#but to know that i could make someone feel not scared??? is so surreal

[sleepyangelkami]

AN ANGEL d.winchester

𝜗𝜚 WORD COUNT - 4.5K

DEAN WINCHESTER X FEM!READER

𝜗𝜚 SUMMARY - You're nervous to lose your virginity, Dean shows you everything that you've been missing out on.

𝜗𝜚 WARNINGS - smut, dom!dean, sub!reader, nervous/shy!reader, unprotected sex, creampie, p!v, teasing, loss of virginity, fingering, hickeys (r.recieving), size kink, praise kink, dean is experienced, reader is inexperienced, (1) thigh slap, big dick!dean, boob fondling, boob sucking, reader is smaller than dean, illusions to past masturbation, reader blushes, petnames, intended lower case, nothing i write is ever proofread 🩷

dean liked having you sat in his lap.

this wasn't the first time, your legs stretched around his waist while your hands scrunched idly at the black shirt he'd been wearing, your lips against his own. making out with you had to be possibly the best thing he'd ever done. it was like getting sent to heaven and back, between each breath he damned the gods that disallowed him to press his lips against yours for forever.

but you were new to all this.

he had to be gentle.

dean was the first real relationship you'd ever had. and if he was being honest, you were sort of the first real relationship he'd ever had too.

he used to hop from girl to girl, bed to bed and not think twice about it. you were the absolute opposite. you were the type of girl that didn't speak unless spoken to, you kept your head down and got through everything without so much as letting your imagination wander with what it would feel like to be with a man.

then you met him.

his hands were pinching at the fat of your thighs, he found it hard to keep his hands to himself when you were like this. between kisses, he could hear the shakiness in your breaths, it drove him unbelievably mad.

you felt almost sorry for dean, knowing it'd taken this long to get comfortable enough to even make out with the man. you knew his history and how he wouldn't go longer than a week without someone in his bed. now he'd went more than three months with you like this, aching for more.

and it wasn't like you didn't want more, believe me, you'd been aching just as horribly.

you were just... scared?

deans hands moved harshly against your skin, right hand coming down to gently slap your thigh before gripping it once again. the feeling prompted a low whimper to leave your lips.

dean almost groaned. he could get used to hearing noises like those.

when the man pulled away from your lips, heavy breaths still leaving his own, you swore you could have whimpered again just from the loss of contact.

he looked down at you, eyes all blown wide, lips slick and swollen, it was a sight he hoped was never erased from his memory. he wanted to remember this forever. "y'so needy." he had that cocky grin on his lips, cocking his head to the side as he viewed you as a whole, all his, right in his lap for the taking.

you felt your cheeks get hot at the sentence, eyes immediately darting anywhere other than his face. "don' be mean." was the mumble you let out, eyes adverting and voice lowering. you weren't able to talk to him, not when he got like this, all 'bigger' than you, it made you feel small, it made you feel wet.

"'m not, 'm not." he spoke with a low chuckle, one of his hands raising to meet your face, you felt the padding of his thumb wipe across your hot cheeks, he could tell you were nervous. then again, you were always so nervous. "i think it's cute."

again, your face got increasingly hotter but dean didn't leave you any room for words, dipping his head so his lips could meet your neck.

there was something so surreal about being like this, your hands gripping at his shirt, top lip clamped down on your bottom as he kissed against the skin of your neck.

again, this wasn't the first time he'd done something like this. makeouts and hickey-leaving was getting more and more natural in your relationship, common, even.

he'd come home from his hunts with sam and all he'd want was you either below or on top of him, his lips against anything they could reach.

you felt his lips part, sucking against your neck as one hand ran up your back, the other cupping the back of your hair. once he sucked, his tongue would smooth over the skin, pleasure to ease the pain. and he'd go again, gradually moving to different places on your neck. marking you.

your own lips were strewn shut, you were hoping and praying on every star that you didn't let a noise slip from you. you were too nervous, too embarrassed but the whole point of this was to feel good, wasn't it? so why did you feel so embarrassed to show him how good it felt?

your eyes fluttered shut, the feeling suddenly overwhelming.

you didn't register the move of your hips until his lips left your neck and his hands clamped down on your waist, low grunt leaving his mouth.

you stared at him with those big eyes and he swore he was gone. "y'can't do that, sweetheart." despite his words, his tone was gentle. "can't start something if you don't want to finish it."

he knew how inexperienced you were, he thought you wanted to hold off on losing your virginity which is why he'd never made such a move but by the way you were looking at him now, he swore you wanted nothing more than for him to take you.

and he'd gladly do so upon your command.

"i do..." you uttered. ".. want to." the words made your insides twinge, made your nose scrunch and your lips purse.

you were too nervous, shaking like a leaf on top of him. even so, with so much anxiety bottled into a human, dean made no movements of caution.

you sort of liked that dean wasn't as awkward or nervous as you were. dean was confident, that much was for sure. but being so confident also gave him this openness, seeping comfort into your veins as his large, warm hands trailed up and down your thighs.

"yeah?" his voice was breathy and his smile had left his features. he didn't need to be so teasing now, he knew you would simply burst of shyness. and he didn't want you in a position of uncertainty. "what d'you want?"

he wasn't trying to tease you, though he knew his fingers that began to dance against your skin were doing nothing to calm your nerves.

he just needed to hear you say it.

you planted your face into his chest with an incoherent mumble, cheeks alight as flames.

dean could have laughed at you but he didn't want you thinking you'd done something wrong. on the contrary, he found it downright adorable how shy you'd been getting. but you couldn't help it, this was such an unfamiliar feeling bubbling in your stomach.

"can't hear you, sweetheart." his head came down to sit atop yours, his voice a gentle whisper. "i need you to tell me what you want, okay?" his free hand tipped your chin upwards to look at him, those pretty green eyes held so much sincerity. "use your words f'me, baby."

words felt stuck in your throat, you couldn't seem to get them out. but dean didn't want to let this get away from him, he steadied your chin between his fingers.

"i want..." your voice was all breathy, all needy. it had dean reeling. "i want you to touch me."

and as the words passed your lips, you swear all the air was knocked from your lungs. listening to yourself talk had made your head feel fuzzy. before dean, you couldn't have even imagined such words leaving your lips.

dean was struggling to compose himself but nonetheless, he did. his lips quirked into this proud yet sly smirk as his fingers ran up and down your thighs. "where, angel? here?" he practically mocked, fingers against your knee.

at this point, dean had never seen an angel, he didn't believe in them. but he was sure that if angels did exist, you had to be one of them.

you could have corrected him verbally, told him to stop teasing or even scolded him for mocking you while you were all worked up like this. but instead, you chose to grasp his bigger hand in your own and trail it towards your core.

as your hand cupped his own, he could feel them shake, he almost cooed at you but he didn't want to make you more nervous than you already were.

but when his hand finally reached your clothed core, he couldn't help but let out a groan.

it didn't take longer than a second for dean to have you flipped over with your back against the mattress of the bed. a noise left your lips as he towered over you, that infamous smirk etched to his lips.

but a type of seriousness washed over him. "are you sure you want this?"

you knew he wasn't asking you to tease you or make you wait, he was being sincere and you couldn't have been more sincere back by bucking your hips with a low whine of the word, "yes." quickly followed by a "please."

"so needy." he mumbled back, lips moving to your neck while his fingers fumbled at the cotton material of your baby blue sleep shorts. he hooked his fingers around the waistband and tore it off skilfully.

he supposed his experience was paying off.

you didn't have any time to counter what he'd said, too focused on the feeling building in your stomach. much of it was worry, anxiety even but the majority of it was this foreign, amazing feeling.

"fuck." his ring clad fingers circled against your panties. you were suddenly hyper aware of how worked up you'd gotten while making out with him, a blush creeping in on your face as you turned away from him.

dean all but tutted, dragging your face back.

"don't get shy on me now, sweetheart. This wet for me, the least you can do is look at me." he had that empowering stare that told you he was in charge here, it had you shrinking further into the mattress.

but dean wasn't demanding, sure he was dominating but he didn't make you uncomfortable. truthfully, you'd been rather scared of getting this far with anybody but you were sure that if there was anybody you wanted it to be with, it was him.

his hands toyed at waistbands of your panties. "this okay?" his eyes were glued to your face, trying to watch every way your face contorted, making sure you were okay.

believe it or not, there was a lot one could tell from just looking at someone.

you nodded your head briskly, darkened and bitten lips parted slightly, covered in the slick left behind from your tongue. your cheeks had turned a darkened colour too, blush spreading across your face.

there was something so surreal about looking at you like this, knowing nobody else ever had. he pulled the panties down your legs, watching you steadily with his own lips parting open. his eyes moved from yours to trail down your body, landing on your sopping core. he couldn't help but breathe in a breath.

"you're so pretty, angel." he moved his hand upwards again, closed fingers gently toying with your clit, which earned a soft gasp from you. his lips quirked as he brought his hand away, using the other to slip off his ring. he took your wrist, holding it up gently. "take care of this for me, yeah?" you nodded as he slipped the ring onto your thumb, seeing as your other fingers wouldn't fit it. "good girl." he mumbled, pressing a kiss to your cheek.

he was suddenly hyper aware of the fact that you were a virgin.

now, dean wasn't necessarily put off by the fact that you were a virgin. dean couldn't have cared less what you were. but he needed to make sure he was gentle, more so than any other time.

because he was the first, the one you'd remember forever.

though, he intended to be your very last, too.

his fingers trailed across your pretty tank top, down to your hips and finally edging between your legs. he peppered kisses against your face and down across your jaw, finally landing on your neck, fingers pushing your legs apart with ease.

as shy as you were, you didn't hide from him, you allowed him to part your legs, his hand was against your inner thigh, softly soothing up and down against your skin.

but he had to make sure, before he touched you. "sure this is okay? not having second thoughts?"

of course dean wanted to but he only wanted to if you wanted to. but you nodded anyway, swallowing though your mouth was dry anyway. "'m just nervous." you admitted softly.

it was no secret to dean that you were a nervous creature already. he knew this was all new to you but he didn't want you to feel shy around him. "you don't need to be." he pressed a kiss against the supple of your cheek, hand moving further as you let out a shaky breath. "not with me." as the whisper left his mouth, his hand came up to touch your hot core.

the noise that left your mouth should have embarrassed you but right now, you couldn't think of anything other than the feeling of his hand right where you needed him.

he collected your wetness onto his fingers, spreading it up and down your folds, two fingers parting from the rest as he gently eased them into your hole.

heavy breaths suddenly left you, chest rising and falling while dean's face was practically hidden in your neck, peppering kisses, sucking and licking against the soft skin while his fingers settled inside of you.

he gave you hardly any time to adjust to the feeling, pulling them out and then thrusting them right back into you. "you're so warm, sweetheart." he mumbled in slight awe. suddenly, the image took over his mind, the image of him inside of you. he couldn't seem to wipe it away.

he knew that giving yourself to him even just like this was a lot for you, he didn't want to push you any further than he already had tonight.

however, the image still tainted his memory.

as the speed of his fingers increased, so did the volume of your noises.

a sticky, wet sound bounced from wall to wall, causing your cheeks to warm incredibly further. you flushed, your own hand coming up to cover your mouth, suddenly aware of how loud you'd been.

a coo left his lips, free hand coming to drag your wrist away from your mouth. "wanna hear every noise you can make, angel."

and his words alone made you whimper.

the palm of his hand bounced against your clit with every thrust of his hand, emitting these noises from you that you'd never been able to draw from yourself.

"y'sound so pretty, you know that, baby?" you made a noise to show you were listening, though all it told dean was that you felt good. "look so pretty too. so beautiful. all mine."

dean couldn't keep his hands to himself.

his free hand dragged against your skin, pushing at it as if trying to get closer to you in any way possible.

against his fingers formed a creamy ring. he looked down at his digits sliding in and out of you, wetness surrounding you both, keeping you together by a wet string.

he let his thoughts wander.

as evil as it was, he simply couldn't think of anything else, he imagined it was his dick sliding in and out of your hot, wet hole, the noises you'd make would be so much louder, you'd be so much fuller.

then he was suddenly aware of your experience once again.

you were tight, incredibly tight which only made him scissor his fingers. if you were going to take his dick, he needed to stretch you out first.

"dean!" you spluttered out as he scissored his fingers inside of you. "c-cant."

your hips bucked backwards, as if you were trying to tell yourself to stop, but it felt too good to stop.

and dean knew your body well, more than you knew it apparently for he only tutted, holding your wrist in his free hand. "you can take it baby, there you go." and he must have known what was happening because your insides were turning to mush.

you'd orgasmed by yourself before but this? this was true bliss.

he held your waist down to the mattress as your body squirmed, head falling back into the pillows as his name fell on your lips, moans and whines blissfully leaving your slick lips.

"good girl." he mumbled, pressing kisses anywhere his lips could reach. "you're so good, there you go. atta girl."

his words of praise fell on your lips, only making you squirm impossibly more. but nonetheless, he kept up his pace, fingers moving to help you ride out your high.

dean swore he'd never seen something so beautiful.

he watched in awe, staring at the way your face scrunched up, pretty lips parted and your eyes screwed closed, though he could only imagine you were seeing stars behind your lids, not that he was being cocky or anything.

the sight was pure bliss, angelic, even.

he swore he'd been to heaven and back, just watching your face contort.

and he'd watch it forever, if he could.

he was suddenly aware of how tight his jeans felt.

"i need to fuck you." he was mumbling with a slight neediness in his tone, kissing up and down your throat, his hand only coming to a halt when your own practically pushed it away, the overstimulation becoming too much. "can i?" a beat passed. "please?"

his face rose to meet yours and you stared at him, all blissed out. you swore that his fingers were the most skilled, pleasurable feeling you'd ever felt, much better than to how it felt when you'd done it by yourself. your lips were glossed over, heavy pants leaving your chest. huge eyes and flushed cheeks.

almost a whine of the phrase, "uh-huh." passed your lips.

and it was enough for him.

his lips crashed into your own, kissing you ever so softly, though there was passion hidden somewhere between your heavy breaths.

needy hands pawed at the end of his black shirt, his own hands reached down to cup yours, helping you tear it off of his body. his amulet dangled downwards, just below your face and he was suddenly very aware of the fact that your top was still on. he supposed he'd been too focused on making you feel good to realise.

his hands reached the end of your own top, helping you push it over your head.

no words left his lips but they parted, tongue passing over the bottom one as he stared.

your pink bra was so pretty on you he almost had to think to decide whether or not he wanted to keep it on. but he decided with the latter, hands unhooking your bra skillfully, as if he'd done it a thousand times before.

he hardly got to see your boobs, for his hands cupped them as soon as they were let out of the bra. he cursed out a grunt under his breath, one hand leaving your breast so his mouth could replace it.

against the mattress, your back arched, stomach against his own while you bit back the pretty whimpers which he yearned to hear. his mouth worked against you, rolling his tongue back and forth, practically flicking your nipple in his mouth making you unable to contain the sounds you so desperately tried to keep back.

"d���dean!" you spluttered, eyes fluttering shut. his own eyes looked up at you, watching your face contort once again.

he had to have you.

as his face left your chest, a string of spit connected your boobs to his lips.

he wiped it away, though nothing could wipe away that smut smirk he held. nonetheless, he helped himself to shimmying out of his jeans, taking his boxers off with it.

it wasn't until he took everything off that reality set in. you stared, eyes blown wide, he was, well... big. and it was sort of hard not to get nervous, even with the fact that his fingers had just been stuffed inside of you, you weren't so sure it was going to fit.

"you okay?" he leaned down, towering over you. he realised your eyes hadn't moved from his dick, pulling your chin up with his two fingers. "are you sure you want this?"

you nodded your head, thoughts a mere muddle of clouds. "i just... 'm nervous." you admitted, feeling your stomach fill with this fuzzy feeling that you only got when you talked to dean.

"you don't have to be nervous, sweetheart, not with me, okay?" the palm of his hand rested on your face. "do you want this?"

"yes." you answered without a beat.

"promise?" you could have melted right then and there. dean winchester was of many things but above all, he was gentle.

"promise." you mumbled, finding yourself relaxing just at the mere sound of his voice. his hand trailed up to find your own, fingers interlocking yours. his free hand moved down to his dick, pressing it in his hand.

you watched with curiosity yet also nervousness. you'd never seen this done in real life, so the shyness was creeping in as you watched him move his hand up and down his shaft, dragging it towards your wet hole. instantly, a sound left your lips, blush instantly creeping in as your eyes snapped up to him. he only smiled gently at you, finding your shyness rather adorable.

the head of his dick slowly pushed inside of you and that alone had you feeling awfully stretched. he wasn't just long, he was thick too meaning he stretched you out completely. "okay?" you nodded at the sound of his question, the feeling of his lips on your cheek moments after. "'s gonna hurt a little, alright?"

you nodded your head, eyes shutting closed as you braced yourself.

you weren't an idiot either, you knew first times were supposed to hurt but luckily for you, you had dean right there, holding one of your hands tight in his own, soft whispers and kisses against your skin.

what more could you really ask for.

he slowly eased himself inside of you, worried he was hurting you. then again, there wasn't really any other way to get inside without hurting you. he watched as your face contorted, a gentle whimper leaving your lips but he knew it wasn't one of pleasure, more of pain, actually.

he mumbled gentle apologies and left a trail of them in kisses from your neck to your cheeks.

finally, he was in completely and he couldn't help the string of curses that he mumbled under his breath.

dean stayed as still as he could. worry set in, he didn't want to hurt you, not when you'd been so nervous in the first place. he'd been with many girls but you were a tight fit around him, swallowing his dick whole. he couldn't help but almost coo at the way your hole clenched around him.

he felt your hips shift, and he knew you were ready. "can i―fuck, sweetheart, can i move?"

again, you nodded with a subtle whine that told him in other words, yes, he absolutely could move. and that was exactly what he did.

he slowly pulled his dick out from inside you then suddenly slammed his hips back in, his dick hitting the spot deep inside your walls. instantly, he was met with a mewl.

"shit." he uttered, wanting to draw as many sounds like that out of you as he could. his two hands now rested on yours tightening his grip as he placed them over your head so he could gain better access. "oh, fuck, sweetheart, you're so fucking pretty."

it seemed as though dean had the mouth similar to a sailor when put in a position like this.

but he couldn't help it, you were staring at him with those doe eyes, pretty noises falling from you. his hips moved with ease, slamming in and out of you, it didn't take him long to pick up the pace either.

your legs lifted to surround his waist, moans leaving the two of you as his hips slammed inside of you.

"shit, you're so good for me." he was a mumbling mess, he meant every word of what he said, though he wasn't too sure what was leaving his lips as of now. "oh, my sweet girl, thaaat's it."

he tipped his head forward, connecting his forehead to your own. your whimpers and whines were swallowed by a kiss, gentle yet so full of neediness, it was exactly what you wanted.

"feels..." you mumbled once your lips had parted, though you were sort of dazed, not all the way there. "feels so good."

"good girl, 's it, take it all." you felt his hand suddenly trail down, fingers soft against your clit while his dick still hot between your gummy walls. "'s okay, you're okay."

you shook your head, swallowing thickly as your hips bucked. "'s―'s too much!" you panted out, moans leaving you as if you couldn't keep them inside.

"you can take it, baby, know you can." but he could tell by the way your face twisted again, you were close.

and so was he.

"you gonna let go f'me? huh?"

at this point, your eyes had fluttered shut and you lips were parted as you nodded, brows strewn together. "gonna... 'm gonna cum, dean."

"that's my girl." he answered, pressing a kiss to your forehead. "cum all over my dick f'me, sweetheart."

you supposed you were more obedient than you thought.

dean watched as you squirmed and moaned, eyes screwed shut as you finally let go around him. he could feel your gummy walls squeezing him tighter, a ring of slick had formed at the base of his dick. the mere sight, his dick still stuffed inside your cunt and you, cumming all over him.

well, it was enough to have any man weak.

which was why he'd finished so quickly, too.

after all, he'd been holding on since you were sat on his lap.

and that one feeling, cumming in your wet, hot walls and watching you with that pretty, stricken and worn out face as you came on him too... he swore he had really been to heaven and back.

when you both rode out your highs, he laid himself on the bed next to you, watching as you reached your hand up, playing with his silver ring that sat on your thumb.

he swore he was staring at an angel.

main masterlist/dean's masterlist

[sunskisser]

Hi i was wondering if you could do a poly wolfstar fic with a fem reader where she feels left out of the relationship because they start to drifting apart which then leads to them breaking up. But then Sirius and Remus realises what they did wrong but reader just doesnt want to because shes scared they'll leave her out again.💗

hi angel! thank you for the request ♡

meant to be | poly!wolfstar

part 1 | part 2

tw: angst

poly!wolfstar x reader

You lean against the doorway, quietly observing them. Something you always seem to be doing these days. Your eyes rake over Sirius, with his legs propped up on one arm of the couch while his head lies in Remus’ lap.

Sirius laughs, and the smile Remus gives him while he strokes his hair is so full of love. It makes you wonder if Remus thought he personally strung up all the stars in the sky or something.

You try not to let it get to you but it does anyway, that same stinging sensation in your chest, as though someone had pierced your heart.

It felt silly to feel as hurt as you did. The boys were so hopelessly in love, it was endearing. They had claimed to love you the same way too just a few weeks ago. When they first proclaimed their love, it felt surreal. Perfect. But now, it felt like a chore.

Not to you, never to you. Loving them would never feel like a chore to you, you were sure of that. But what if they felt that way? What if you were just an experiment gone wrong?

Maybe you were just overthinking the whole thing. Or maybe this relationship was a mistake.

Sirius and Remus perfectly complemented each other already, it was like Remus was a container and Sirius was water. And you were the lid that just never fit right. Remus was calm, peaceful, loving. Sirius was fun, snarky, and full of affection.

What were you? Just a random girl who had the fortune of stumbling across the lovely couple.

They hadn’t done anything in particular to upset you, they never would. But it was the way they instinctively walked closer together, their fingers interlaced. The way they glanced at each other, having silent conversations you would never understand. How they seemed to know everything about the other, from every inch of his skin to every thought in his head.

It was like they could see colours you couldn’t see, speak a language you didn’t understand.

You told yourself it was fine, they had just known each other longer. They stayed in the same dorm room and took the same classes, of course they were bound to be closer.

But wasn’t that exactly the problem? Their lives were inexplicably intertwined, and it felt like you were trying to wedge yourself in. It left you feeling like the side character in your own story.

You heard your name and snapped out of your daze, blinking as you find Sirius grinning stupidly at you from where he lazed on the sofa. His expression softens when your eyes meet his. “Love, come over here! We’ve been looking for you all day.”

That was a lie, your brain screamed at you. You spotted them chatting in lessons, eating together at the Great Hall, taking a walk in the garden. They were not looking for you, it was a lie.

Remus smiles softly, beckoning you over. You will yourself to move, to go sit with your boyfriends, but it’s like your legs have turned to stone.

You silently stand there, watching them. You try to muster a smile or open your mouth to say something. But nothing comes out except for a quiet wrangled sort of noise.

Remus looks at you strangely. Sirius frowns, his eyebrows creasing. He pushes his palms down on the couch, elbows buckling as he sits up a bit. “Y/N, baby? Why don’t you come on over?”

You watch Remus gently move his fingers to Sirius’ forehead to smoothen the lines between his eyebrows, and him turning around to give the sandy-haired boy a lovesick smile. That simple action causes the last ounce of willpower in you to break.

You clench your fists to stop your hands from trembling as you suck in a deep breath, feeling the ache in your chest start to grow. Was it jealousy? Anger? Hurt?

Sirius seemed ready to move to your side right that moment, looking utterly confused as to what was wrong. But Remus kept his hand wrapped around Sirius’ bicep, a silent order to let you be.

“Angel,” Remus breathes quietly. You visibly flinch at the term of endearment, not missing the flash of hurt across his face which he quickly replaced with his usual stoicism.

Your heart was thudding so loudly you wondered if the boys could hear it. You swallow the lump in your throat, stuck between wanting to burn the bridges between you or to walk across them.

“I…” your voice comes out scratchy as you try to explain yourself. You clear your throat, watching Sirius’s frown deepen and Remus bite his lip anxiously.

“I don’t think I want to,” you say quietly, feeling your heart sink to your stomach. You knew Remus would understand, always the perceptive one. It was obvious in the way his eyes widened and his grip on Sirius loosened.

But Sirius just tilts his head, looking at you quizzically. “Okay…? You can sit on the other couch then. You can sit anywhere you want to, love.”

You wince, glancing at Remus for help. But he’s looking at you with that sad look on his face now, the one he only wears when he sees Sirius crying after receiving a letter from home, or when you show up at Hogwarts after the holidays with bruises all over. Did it really hurt him that much?

A sigh escapes you as you decide to try to be gentle with it. That’s the least you could do, after the boys had so generously let you in on their already perfect relationship. You suck in a shaky breath, mustering the courage to croak out the words.

“It’s not about the couch, Siri. I… I mean this,” you mutter, gesturing between the three of you. Immediately, your head ducks down, scared of what you’ll find if you look back up at them.

An uncomfortable silence is cast over the room, the kind that makes your skin crawl. A beat of quietness passes before you find the strength to raise your head, peeking at the boys. Sirius looks cracked open, his face a picture of anguish.

“What?” he rasps out. Remus’ features are tight with something that looks like grief, his hand ghosting over Sirius’ ankle to provide the little comfort he can.

The croakiness of his voice makes your heart feel like it’s being cleaved in two. But you knew you had to do this. For your sake, and for theirs.

“I can’t do this anymore,” you mumble in a rush, eager to get it out and not have to endure watching them in pain for too long. Sirius stays silent, his lips pursed so tight you think he might burst into tears.

“Why?” Remus asks quietly, gaze still trained onto yours as he rubs circles onto Sirius’ ankle comfortingly. “I… I don’t fit in. You guys are perfect for each other. But I just don’t fit in,” you admit, feeling guilt clawing at you. “This just isn’t working,”

“We’ll make it work,” Sirius says immediately, and the sincerity in his voice almost makes you want to concede. But you know that’s not possible. “Just… just tell us what we’re doing wrong, we’ll fix it. I swear.”

Remus nods slowly, looking at you expectantly. The hope on their faces make you feel like the worst person in the world as you give them all you have to offer - a small shake of your head.

“But love,” Sirius murmurs, his voice cracking. “Why… what… where did we mess up?”

“It wasn’t you guys,” you say immediately, even though it was. You just can’t bear to see the pain etched on the black-haired boy’s face. “It’s just not meant to be. We’re better off as friends.”

“But we love you,” Remus speaks up quietly. Sirius nods earnestly.

“I can’t,” you say, relieved that your voice comes out evenly. It’s a miracle with how hard you’re fighting to hold back tears. “I can’t do this. The both of you are always together, and I'm not blaming you for it. It’s in your nature to be together-”

“It’s in your nature to be with us too, dove,” Sirius says, the anguish in his voice leaving to make way for pure sadness.

“It’s not,” your voice coming out as a pathetic sob. “I’m not like you guys. I’m not fun, I don’t take the same classes, I don’t ever get what you mean. We’re just not right for each other.”

You think you can see something break in Remus when you utter that last sentence. Sirius bites down on his quivering lip and wraps his arms around himself, as though physically restraining himself from pulling you into a hug.

This isn’t the first time they’ve ignored what you said, isn’t the first time they didn’t respond. It happened on a daily basis, for Merlin’s sake. But this is the only time it hurt as much as it did right now.

You glance at them one last time, heart breaking at their pained expressions. But none of them say a word as you turn around and leave the room, letting you go all too easily.

Perhaps you were just not meant to be.

[goldfades]

could u write joe burrow and a young gf :3

ouuuu i lowkey love this!!! i forget joe is literally almost 30 sometimes cause he's been my baby since 2020 :(

The thing about loving Joe Burrow is that it never quite feels real.

Not in the way people would assume—Oh my God, you’re dating Joe Burrow—but in the quieter, trickier ways. Like how surreal it is to be brushing your teeth while he’s flopped across the bed scrolling through film, mumbling something about coverages.

Or how it feels when his name echoes from TV screens and sports talk shows, but the same voice that commands huddles and stadiums turns soft when he asks, “You good, babe?” after long days.

It started somewhere simple. It always does.

Before all the noise, before the headlines, before the whispers about her being too young or him settling down so soon. You were just you, balancing college classes and internships, while he was—well, Joe Burrow. Quarterback. Face of a franchise. The golden boy with ice in his veins and Ohio stitched into his heart.

The age thing? People love to talk.

"She's barely legal," Twitter said. "He's almost thirty—what could they possibly have in common?"

But nobody saw late nights where he quizzed you for exams between reps of watching film. No one heard him tease you about your Starbucks order or watched the way his whole face softened when you walked into a room.

You weren’t high school sweethearts or some college love story. You met after his star had already risen. He was 26 then, fresh off another playoff run. You were 20, still figuring out your major and how to parallel park. It wasn’t supposed to be anything. But somehow, between weekend flights to Cincinnati, cheap takeout, and late-night phone calls that stretched till sunrise, it became everything.

Now?

Now, he’s 28. And you’re counting down the weeks until your 22nd birthday.

It’s different now. The stakes are higher. His window is now, and yours is still unfolding. People don’t get that. They think he should be with someone who has it all figured out. Someone closer to his stage in life. But Joe? Joe never seemed interested in the version of you that had all the answers.

He likes you exactly as you are.

And maybe that’s what makes this all so dangerous. Because you love him like you have all the time in the world. But what if you don’t?

What if time, distance, and expectations catch up?

The thing about loving Joe Burrow is that it never feels real.

And maybe that’s what scares you the most.

It started in the most unremarkable way, which, in hindsight, made it all the more impossible.

You weren’t supposed to be there that night.

It was late spring—warm air clinging to skin, cicadas humming like background noise. A friend dragged you out, promising “something low-key” that turned out to be anything but. A rooftop bar downtown, lights strung across beams, music low enough for conversation but loud enough to fill silences. The kind of place where everyone seemed to know someone.

You felt out of place almost immediately—twenty, still figuring things out, surrounded by people who seemed to have their lives together. People with jobs, plans, confidence. You clutched your drink like a lifeline, nodding along to conversations you weren’t part of.

And then—him.

Joe Burrow.

You knew of him, obviously. Everyone did. The city’s golden boy. LSU’s champion turned Cincinnati’s hope. The one with the calm stare and colder game. But seeing him there, in a soft gray hoodie and jeans that looked too casual for someone like him, was jarring.

He wasn’t surrounded by a crowd like you expected. No loud entourage, no flashy bravado. Just him, leaning against the railing, a glass of something in his hand, looking out at the skyline like he wasn’t the biggest deal in the room.

You tried not to stare. Failed miserably.

And he caught you.

But here’s the thing—you looked away first. You didn’t smile or wave or give him that Oh my God, it’s Joe Burrow look he was probably used to. You just turned back to your group, back to your half-finished drink, back to your uncomfortable corner.

But he noticed.

It wasn’t supposed to mean anything. Just a glance. A flicker of interest, easily forgotten. But when you shifted places an hour later, needing air and space, there he was—somehow always there. Close enough to talk to, if you were brave enough.

You weren’t.

He was.

"Not your scene?"

His voice caught you off guard—low, almost shy. He wasn’t cocky about it, didn’t lead with who he was. Just a simple question. You glanced over, squinting against the fading light.

"Not really," you admitted, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. "Yours?"

He shrugged, a small smile playing on his lips.

"Not really."

And that was it. A conversation that began with mutual disinterest in the place you both stood.

No cheesy pickup lines. No starstruck reactions. Just two people, sharing a quiet pocket of space in a loud world.

It started slow after that.

Joe wasn’t the type to rush things. He didn’t blow up your phone the next day. There were no grand gestures. Just texts that came at odd hours—memes, random thoughts, “this reminded me of you” photos. Late-night conversations that started light and ended heavy.

"What do you wanna do after school?" "Not sure yet. Still figuring it out." "That’s cool. You got time."

And he meant it.

He liked listening. That was the first thing you noticed. Everyone assumed he’d be the one with stories to tell, but Joe preferred hearing yours. He wanted to know about your classes, your friends, your opinions on movies you half-watched.

He didn’t treat you like you were younger. He didn’t make you feel like you had something to prove.

And maybe that’s why you fell for him first.

Not that you said it. Not for a while.

You didn’t know it, but Joe liked that you didn’t treat him like Joe Burrow. You talked to him like he was just a guy—messy, complicated, figuring things out. And he wanted that.

For months, things stayed undefined. Texts. Calls. Occasional meetups when he was in the neighborhood. You told yourself it wasn’t serious. Couldn’t be. He had an NFL career; you had classes and part-time jobs.

But then came that night.

It was after a tough loss—one of those games where the city buzzed with disappointment. You shot him a simple text: “Tough one. Hope you’re good.”

Didn’t expect a reply. But he did.

"Come over?"

It wasn’t a question. And when you showed up, hair still damp from a rushed shower, no makeup, heart racing—he looked at you like you were the best thing he’d seen all week.

"You’re here," he said softly, like he didn’t quite believe it.

"Of course I am."

That night, there were no cameras, no expectations. Just Joe—quiet, vulnerable—and you, sitting beside him on a worn-out couch.

He kissed you first.

Soft, tentative, like he wasn’t sure if he should. Like he was giving you the chance to pull away. But you didn’t.

You never wanted to.

So how have you lasted this long?

Patience.

It wasn’t always easy. The age gap made things complicated. He was settling into his prime years—face of a franchise, pressure mounting. You were still growing, still becoming.

But Joe never expected you to catch up. He let you take your time. He liked that you weren’t rushing.

You learned his rhythms—when he needed space, when he needed reassurance. He learned your moods—when you were overwhelmed, when you needed grounding.

You made room for each other.

Not because it was easy. But because it mattered.

And somehow, almost two years later, here you still are.

Joe’s turning 28. You’re on the edge of 22.

Everyone still talks. But neither of you have ever cared much about what they say.

--

The apartment was quiet in that late-afternoon, honey-gold kind of way. The kind of light that stretched long shadows across hardwood floors and made everything feel softer, slower. The game was on mute—highlights from last week’s win looping on ESPN—while you sat cross-legged on the couch, flipping through your laptop.

Joe was in the kitchen, barefoot, wearing a faded Ohio State tee and gray sweatpants that hung low on his hips. His hair was still damp from a shower, curling slightly at the edges. He moved with that same unhurried calm he always had off the field, focused on slicing up an apple with alarming precision for someone who could launch a 60-yard pass without blinking.

"You want some?" he asked, glancing over his shoulder.

"No thanks," you mumbled, eyes still on the screen.

"Liar," he said, grinning. "You’re gonna steal a piece anyway."

He wasn’t wrong.

Joe crossed the room, dropping onto the couch beside you with a quiet oof. The plate balanced on his knee, and sure enough, when he popped a slice into his mouth, he held another out for you without looking.

"Told you," he muttered around a bite.

"Whatever," you said, accepting it anyway.

This was what you two were like—easy.

No big gestures or loud declarations. Just knowing. He knew you’d take the apple slice even when you said you wouldn’t. You knew he’d watch you more than the TV. The spaces between you were always filled with things left unsaid but understood.

"Whatcha working on?" he asked after a moment, nodding toward your laptop.

"Paper. Boring. You wouldn’t care."

"I always care," he said, leaning back. His arm stretched along the back of the couch, fingers brushing your shoulder lightly. "Tell me."

You gave him a look, skeptical.

"You literally fell asleep last time I explained this class to you."

"Nah," he grinned, slow and lazy. "Just resting my eyes. You were doing great."

"Uh-huh."

Joe bumped your knee with his. "Tell me."

So you did. Stumbling through half-formed thoughts about your topic, tapping at the trackpad, rambling. You knew you were probably losing him—this wasn’t exactly thrilling stuff—but Joe kept his gaze steady on you. Not nodding along just to be polite. Actually listening.

That’s what always got you. He listened.

Even when he didn’t get it, even when he was tired or distracted—he paid attention because it was you.

When you finally trailed off with a shrug, mumbling, "See? Boring," Joe shook his head.

"Nah," he said. "You sound smart when you talk about stuff you like."

You rolled your eyes, but your cheeks warmed.

"I always sound smart," you shot back.

"Yeah," he said, grinning wider. "But especially when you’re like this. Focused. All serious."

He reached over, tugging gently at the sleeve of your sweatshirt. "Cute, too."

"Shut up."

"Make me."

You shoved him, and he laughed, warm and low, catching your wrist with a loose grip. Not tight—never tight—just enough to pull you closer until you were half in his lap.

"Say it again," you teased, narrowing your eyes. "Say I sound smart."

Joe’s eyes sparkled with something playful, something soft.

"You sound smart," he murmured, voice dropping.

His thumb brushed slow circles against the inside of your wrist. His gaze flicked down to your mouth, then back up.

"And cute," he added, softer this time.

Your breath hitched, and suddenly the space between you wasn’t so wide anymore.

Joe always did that—brought things back to the quiet. He had this way of looking at you like you were the only thing in the room. Like all the noise—fans, games, expectations—didn’t matter. Just you.

"You gonna kiss me or keep talking?" you whispered.

He didn’t smile this time. Just leaned in, closing the gap, slow and sure.

The kiss wasn’t hurried. It wasn’t some movie-scene, fireworks kind of thing. It was steady. Familiar. Warm. The kind of kiss that said, I know you. I’ve got you.

When you pulled back, his forehead rested against yours. Neither of you said anything for a beat.

Then—

"Told you I’d make you forget about that boring paper."

"You’re the worst."

"Mm. But you love me."

"Unfortunately."

He grinned. "Lucky me."

And that was it. That was you two.

Not always perfect. Not always poetic. But steady.

Because at the end of the day, loving Joe Burrow wasn’t about the headlines or the spotlight. It was this—apples shared on a quiet afternoon, lazy kisses between conversations, and the unshakable certainty that when the world got loud again, you’d both still be right here.

[auroralwriting]

your beauty never scared me

spencer reid x fem!bau!reader

you’re scared no one will ever love and understand you, but spencer always has.

word count: 2.2k

warnings: a bit of unrequited love, comfort/angst/fluff, negative self thought, spencer is always a sweetheart, reader has a darker aesthetic

Maybe it was the fact that you came from a broken family from a young age. No, you didn't have a bad childhood, but it wasn't ideal for a young girl growing up.

It could have been the bad high school relationships, full of boys who didn't understand how to treat a young woman. Stuck at their stupid baseball games or waiting for them to finish their video game, sitting alone on their bed waiting for them to finish.

The most likely cause for your fear of love was simply the fear that no one would ever truly understand you, and therefore, never be able to love you right.

If you looked deeper, though, much further past the surface level, deep into the core, you would've realized that Spencer Reid had been there all along.

When you first joined the BAU, Spencer Reid was a typical little nerd, the glasses he wore even fulfilling the stereotype. His rambles about anything and everything were endearing, and lead you to begin your friendship with the man after he told you the history of your favorite movies.

"...its distinctive style with his signature blend of dark humor and whimsy. His imaginative vision, influenced by German Expressionism, is evident in the film’s surreal sets and exaggerated character designs. Burton’s decision to cast Michael Keaton as the chaotic title character and his encouragement of Keaton’s improvisation contributed to the film’s memorable, unpredictable energy. The innovative special effects and makeup, along with the creative set design by Bo Welch, further showcased Burton's unique approach."

By the end of his rant, Spencer had expected you to have been completely focused on anything else, but your eyes were trained on him, a small sparkle flickering in them.

"Spence, how do you know do much about Beetlejuice? You haven't even seen it before." you'd chuckled.

"I think Tim Burton is an interesting director. Maybe we could, uh, see it together sometime? If you want, of course." Spencer awkwardly fiddled with his fingers, the suggestion of the two of you hanging out outside of the work settle rattling his nerves.

You had given him a big smile, beneath your dark clothes and makeup was a heart of white and gold, a truly captivating soul. "I'd love to, Spencer! I own it, so you can come over whenever."

"Whenever sounds good," Spencer paused, thinking about what he had just said. "I mean, Thursday?"

"Thursday it is, boy genius." That name was usually reserved for making fun of Spencer, but the way you said it actually made his heart flutter.

Spencer would've never guessed that the girl, clad in dark clothing, the complete opposite of his own aesthetic, would be interested in hanging out with him. Then, it happened. And it happened again, and again, until you became friends.

Your friendship with the doctor grew. As you got closer, Spencer began to identify your fears and your tells. You played with your hair when you were nervous, bit the skin of your fingernails when you were anxious, tapped your foot or bounced your leg when you were impatient. He began to understand you on a deeper level.

It began to be the same for you. You knew his likes, dislikes, fears and worries. You understood his struggles with his mother and father, how sometimes this job didn't feel like enough until he made a true difference in someone's life.

Spencer Reid and you had connected in nearly a cosmic level, and that began to scare you.

It was two and a half years after Spencer had met you when he realized he had been falling in love with you for nearly a year. His small crush had grown exponentially. After Haley Hotchner's death, you'd taken in Jack for several days while Hotch planned the funeral and began to clean the house from the murders. Jack had taken to you quickly; he'd gone as far as to call you his favorite aunt.

Seeing the level of compassion and helpfulness you had displayed for Hotch made Spencer begin to realize that your friendship was beginning to move to the next level for him.

He began to think of you night and day, wondering what you were doing, how you were doing, what your plans were. He wanted to be with you, to feel your skin, linger in your existence. It wasn't until JJ had explained to him that that feeling he felt was love that he began to understand that you were in no place for him to admit his feelings.

Spencer never meant to profile anyone unless he was working, but he found it hard to not with you. He noticed your lack of dating, how even when you had the chance, you evaded it. He noticed your disdain to the notion of true love, or love at first sight, or even soulmates. It didn't take him long to piece together that it wasn't a hatred of love, no, it was a fear of it. However, he could never understand the why of the fear.

Now, you and Spencer had met five years ago. You'd both physically changed in looks over the time, but your friendship only remained and grew passionately stronger.

After the death of Emily, and finding out she didn't really die, Spencer had you as his rock. You grieved together, to the point that for three weeks, you lived with Spencer in his apartment. After you'd left, Spencer realized that he couldn't live without you anymore.

Spencer and you sat on his couch, the cold September month made you crave an early Halloween movie. So, Spencer put on his own copy of Beetlejuice he bought a few years back. The soft glow of the lamp cast warm shadows across the room, and the faint scent of popcorn lingered in the air. You could hear the distant hum of the city outside, blending with the soft rustling of the movie’s soundtrack.

"I like Adam and Barbara," Spencer hummed as he watched the screen. "They make a really good couple."

You nodded, "I guess they do,"

Spencer's brows furrowed at your words. "You don't sound convinced."

"I don't know," You shrugged, sitting up and crossing your legs. "He's sort of controlling over her. It's just too much, she's a strong woman."

"You mean he's protective over her in the afterlife filled with dead people they didn't even knew existed?" Spencer raised a brow, turning to you. "I'm pretty sure that's relatively normal."

Turning your attention back to the screen, you replied, "I guess so,"

Spencer sighed, finally deciding to ask you the question he'd been avoiding for too many years now. "Why are you so scared of love?"

His question made you turn back to him, a confused look on your face. "What?"

"You're so pessimistic about it. You always avoid dating, talking about it, anything to even do with love." Spencer explained. "I'm just curious, why?"

"Because, there is no way love that strong exists." You concluded, folding your arms over your chest. "That's why it's all in the movies. It's fake for a reason."

Spencer nearly chuckled at your words, finding himself in disbelief. Sure, he didn't really believe in soulmates, but he definitely believed in love. "Sure love exists," Spencer said. "True love has to come from somewhere to be spoken about. It's why its so deeply rooted into art and literature. Plus, with the psychological evidence of--"

"Okay, okay," You put your hands up in mock surrender. "I believe you, Spence." You'd never cut off one of his rants before.

"This bothers you," Spencer noted, his arms mocking your previous stance as they folded over his chest. "Why does this bother you so much, what aren't you telling me?"

You let out a huff of air in reply, your defences kicking into full gear. "Why do you care so much?"

Spencer stuttered over his words, “Uh- because it clearly affects you! It’s not hard to notice your dislike of it, and I want to know.” Spencer defended. He could see it in your eyes, though. You were too good of a profiler to not know he was lying through his teeth.

“The real reason?” You sharply replied, hating that Spencer was lying.

“Because I’m in love with you,” Spencer’s voice was filled with desperation. “Here you are, constantly belittling the idea of love when that’s all I want to give to you, and I don’t understand why.”

His words cut you like a knife. You hadn’t expected him to say that, let alone feel it. It almost made you feel guilty. “No one has ever understood me, Spencer. I don’t want to settle for just anyone who will pretend for their whole life that they know me when deep down they will never be able to understand who I am, what I need.”

“You think I don’t?” Spencer challenged. He tried not to feel offended at your words, truly. Yet they hit him like a slap to the face. He felt like he understood you.

“Okay, prove it then.”

Spencer was ready for this, “Your least favorite cases involve those with divorced parents. Not because of the affect on their children, but the affect it takes on them. You hate to see when it hurts one of them, or both.” Spencer’s first claim was true, and it caught you off guard. “You hate anything with a pumpkin scent, however, you enjoy real pumpkins because of their look rather than their scent. You bite your lip, tap your foot, shake your leg, all when you feel negatively.”

“Anyone could profile that,” You weakly replied, feeling thrown off at Spencer’s careful acknowledgment of your little tells.

“Are you afraid of love because no one will ever understand you, or because you’re scared you’ll never find someone who will.” Spencer finished. He watched as your mouth opened and closed, the words not quite making it out. “I see you, I hear you. My favorite thing is when you tell me things about yourself, your day, your feelings. Any day without you is a bad day and any day with you is a good one.”

Spencer’s words left your heart beating faster in your chest as you began to realize this is what you were looking for all along, but your own fear that you would never find it blind sighted you to the truth. The truth that Spencer Walter Reid was in love with you.

Spencer often recalled his own struggles with relationships, remembering the long hours he spent studying while his peers socialized. With him being so much younger, he had no way to truly connect with them. The sense of isolation he felt growing up made him cherish the connections he built later in life, driving him to seek genuine understanding and affection. On the other hand, your own problems with family and bad relationships drove you to hold a near-resentful feeling to love. It made you feel like it was something you could never have. That was something Spencer was beginning to see from your perspective.

"Please," Spencer's voice was softer, more vulnerable as his eyes pleaded with you. "say something."

"I'm sorry," you breathed. For a moment, Spencer thought you were about to reject him, until he saw the glistening tears form in your eyes. "I-I should've known sooner."

Spencer nearly chuckled, "I didn't want to make it too obvious."

"Spencer?" you asked.

"Yeah?" he replied.

"Why do you love me?"

Your question made his heart nearly crack at the raw fragility your tone held. All he wanted to do was to take you into his arms and sing you sweet nothings until you believed him, but right now that wasn't an option. "I love you because you're unapologetically you," Spencer's reply made you finally lock eyes with him. "You're so sweet and kind, you never try to hide the things you like and dislike. You're so bold and brave. You make me feel so alive, so wanted. Every moment with you is a reminder of how extraordinary it is to be around someone who radiates such genuine warmth and enthusiasm."

"You really love me?" Your voice felt meek in comparison to how your normal assertiveness and bravato sounded. Your heart felt three times bigger in your chest as a tear dared to slip down your cheek.

Before it could even leave your eye, Spencer brought his sleeve over his hand and soaked it up gently with the cuff. "I love you with every part of me."

"I think I want to love you, too." you admitted. It felt hard to say those words, to finally give into your darkest, most vulnerable desire of unwavering love.

"Even with your fears, you're beautiful." Spencer softly reached to graze your cheek. "This, your fears, nothing could ever scare me. I'll teach you to let me love you if I need to."

"That better be a promise," you slightly chuckled, holding your pinky out to the man.

Spencer smiled, locking his pinky with your own, "It's a promise."

As you held Spencer’s pinky in your own, a sense of peace settled over you. The weight of your fears began to lift, replaced by a tentative hope. "Maybe love isn’t as impossible for me as I thought," You whispered, reaching out to hold his hand. Spencer’s smile was both a promise and a comfort, signaling the beginning of a new chapter in your lives.

[luvkinich]

charismatic fool

notes: kinich x reader, fluff, reposted from an old account, @knnichs as per your request, here is the repost of your fav fic :)

The note Kinich left for you at the Adventurer’s Guild is somewhat worrying. You asked Katheryne about it but she said that Kinich left as soon as he gave that note to her. The note says that you needed to come back as soon as possible because there is apparently an emergency in the house that only you could solve. That was the only thing Kinich had said, and now you’re worrying your ass off because you’re afraid that something bad has happened. Well, Kinich can defend himself pretty well considering that his combat skills are ten times better than you.

Of course, being a great partner you are, you quickly finish claiming your daily commission rewards and head back home quickly. Nothing looks bad when you first arrive back home. No smoke, fire, or flood (Kinich can be a bad cook sometimes).

The house is quiet when you step in, which makes you scared because what if someone broke into your house while Kinich is distracted? “Kinich?” you call out. “Baby, where are you? I’m home, just like you asked.” instead of Kinich answering you, you hear a crash coming from outside, to which you yelp in surprise.

Kinich appears behind you, almost out of breath. “Oh, you got here quick,” Kinich spoke in a casual tone. “I didn’t think you would arrive home this quickly.”

“What are you talking about?” you asked in disbelief. Taking the note out of your pocket, you shove it into his chest. “You left this at Katheryne’s stall saying that there is an emergency at home that only I could fix!”

“Oh, for fucks’ sake…” Kinich sighs, rereading the note. “I asked Ajaw to write and leave the note for me. I didn’t expect him to exaggerate it this much.”

“So? What was that emergency Ajaw is talking about?” you ask. “Pretty sure people were staring at me when I suddenly ran off.”

“Well, considering that you and I have been working hard with commissions and stuff, I figured we could have a relaxing night,” Kinich explains. “I prepared something outside for us to do.” You blink. Outside? How come you didn’t notice? Sensing your confusion, Kinich laughs. “I’m surprised you didn’t notice any of the stuff outside when you arrived.”

“Well, let me see… I think it’s because of the note Ajaw left for me?” you retorted. “Where is he anyway? He’s usually around mocking me.”

“Oh, I put him on timeout,” Kinich says in a matter-of-fact tone. “He kept bothering me while I was preparing the stuff and it was pissing me off.” he suddenly grabs your wrist. “Well, enough about him. Come on, I bet you’ll love what I’ve prepared.”

Kinich leads you outside and there, right in front of your eyes, he’s decorated your tiny garden with a blanket laid on the grass with some pillows on top. Right in the middle of everything is a tray filled with snacks and drinks.

“Woah…” you gape in awe.

“Looks nice, right?” Kinich says. “Mualani told me that tonight will be the best time to stargaze as the stars will look the brightest tonight.” he pulls you down on the blanket, immediately pulling you into his embrace. As you look up, you see stars lighting up the sky. “It’s beautiful, isn’t it?”

“Mhm,” you agree, feeling relaxed. Kinich wasn’t even paying attention to the stars, but he was looking at you. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

Kinich shrugs, averting his gaze back to the sky. “I don’t know. You just look really pretty.”

Your breath hitches. “I-I am not! Plus, I just got home all sweaty from commissions, it’s gross!”

“You’re still beautiful regardless.” Kinich shrugs.

The stars were bright, and you honestly feel like you are in another universe. Everything felt surreal, and it just felt like all the problems and burdens had been lifted from your shoulders.

Maybe you had to thank Ajaw for writing that annoying note.

[zairene]

more misc. earth 42! miles morales bf headcanons <3

genre: headcanons

a/n: i reallllyyy hate writer’s block. anyways ty guys in the delulus server for helping cure my writers block for this one!! ily guys mwah mwah <3!!

miles has enormous baby fever. no matter how many times you would tell him you guys are both too young and very unfinancially stable, he couldn’t help himself. you both could be just chilling in his room and all of a sudden you would see his face soften and a super high pitched, “awwww…” come out of his mouth. from that one thing alone you already knew what he was about to show you. “y/n! look! isn’t she so cute?” you would shake your head and then he would go into this long rant on how he’d think you both make great parents. “can we at least finish highschool first, miles?” you said. he sighed dramatically and fell into your arms. “yeah, i know. ‘m just excited.” “trust me, i know.”

miles likes to stalk your socials. yes, in a weird way. everytime you post yourself on your feed, he’s always spamming the comments with how beautiful you are and how you’re his, or whenever you post yourself on your story and you get numerous story replies after you post yourself to your favorite song. but afterwards he’s scanning to see anybody else who says anything that’s not just complimenting you. he’s spotted a few guys call you “bae” or something in the comments and he’s always in the replies correcting them as quick as possible. or whenever you post the anonymous links on your story, and someone says that they have a crush on you but they’re scared to say so, or something like that, he’s quick to take your phone and post himself on your story saying how much you loved your boyfriend. that would stop these weirdos from hitting on you, at least that’s what he thinks.

miles’ mom actually loves you. from the first time you met her, she already knew that you were meant for miles when you called her mrs. morales instead of rio. miles’ friends had a habit of calling her that and she would be this close to smacking them across the forehead. they do profusely apologize after but the first impression would always leave a bad taste in her mouth. now, she asks miles to bring you over all the time and she even calls you her second daughter.

miles isn’t a ‘going outside of his house for every date kind of guy.’ he’s more of a wanting to just come to your house and chill in your room while y’all watch and rant about movies. his favorite date with you was when you listened to the new brent faiyaz album, wasteland, while he watched you braid your hair. of course you both go to the movies or the mall every now and then—but he just wanted to be alone with you with no one else around because that’s how it always feels to be with you.

🏷️ TAGLIST :: @dojathascammer @pnkweb @planetlunaa @mypimpademia @megurulvr @dreampurpledreams @chinieh @naijagrl @looking4chanel @pixieplush17 @jogeto @laylasbunbunny @jamies-cumslut @sapphicshav @banqnaz @edgyficuselastica @padfootpottah99 @anikaluv @s-surreality @tourbug @fiannee @sakaur-i

TAGLIST FORM

[holylulusworld]

TOL - Like a virgin (1) - Bucky Barnes

Summary: You need money. Hansen’s agency offers the right kind of trade.

Pairing: DBF!Bucky Barnes x Virgin!Reader

Characters: Lloyd Hansen, unnamed other reader (Hansen’s girl)

Warnings: money problems, sex for money, selling your virginity, blindfolding, sex with a stranger, groping, oral (fem rec), fingering, teasing, dirty talk, loss of virginity, slow sex, smut, unprotected sex, possessive Bucky, undefined age gap, dad’s best friend trope, Lloyd being Lloyd, language, mentions of past death of a loved one, fluff

A/N: This story is part of my: Traders of love (lust) masterlist

A/N2: It's also a request fill for my 16.666 followers celebration masterlist. Sorry, this took me so long. I'm working on all the requests left for this celebration.

Words: 3,9 k

“Do you know what you get yourself into if you sign this contract?” Lloyd Hansen, the devil with blue eyes asks.

“I need to money and uh…I tried anything else. I worked my ass off and even sold my car. It’s no use,” you exhale deeply to calm your racing heart. “The debts are eating me alive, and the only thing left that I could sell is my…virginity.”

He watches you squirm in your seat, amused, and aroused at the same time. “Aw, you’re a cute little cupcake. I’d love to have a taste of you myself, but I don’t shit where I eat – you know.”

Lloyd cocks a brow when you reread the standard contract he handed to you. “So, you will put me on your website and your customers will buy me?” You blink a few times to not cry. This feels so surreal and wrong. How did you stoop so low that you sold your body to a stranger?

“Kinda,” Lloyd gets up from his chair to show you his iPad. “We don’t sell you off to a random douche. I don’t want a cute muffin like you to end up under a sick bastard. All my clients are gentlemen.”

You nod slowly and try to remember every detail he tells you. “Okay.”

“You can choose ten out of my clients and, if you want to, a wild card.” Lloyd hands you the tablet. “If you choose only ten out of my clients one of them will have the honor to fuck you first.”

You fight the urge to scrunch your nose up. “What’s the wild card?” You look up from the iPad to meet Lloyd’s eyes.

“If you choose ten men and the wild card, you will get more money,” he explains. “The start offering will be one million dollars. You’ll get six hundred thousand dollars, and I’ll arrange everything for your safety.”

You gasp loudly. This amount of money would save you and allow you to live a better life. You don’t care Lloyd will have almost half of the money. He provides the hotel suite and will make sure that you’ll come home safely.

“The men will attend an online auction. They will bid on you. If you get lucky, they will pay more than one million bucks.”

“Wow!” You exclaim. Even if it’s the worst thing you’ll ever do, this arrangement will help move on from your past and pay your debts.

“Now, I’ll tell you about the wild card,” Lloyd sits next to you. “The wild card is special. You cannot choose this man, but you’ll get two hundred and fifty thousand bucks more. No matter who wins the auction. You’ll get eight hundred and fifty thousand bucks.”

“He’s not a creep, right? I don’t want my first time to be with someone hurting me or ignoring my safe word,” you wring your hands.

“The wild cards are my special clients. These men have my trust, sweetness,” Lloyd says. “The inner circle of my organization. It consists of ten men. You will find none of them in my files.”

“I could need the extra money,” you ponder. “You promise that they are not crazy or shit?”

“I’m the craziest guy in this organization,” he flashes you a smile. “And you are not scared of me, right?”

“You’re intimidating,” you shyly admit as you glance at Lloyd. “But you didn’t hurt me or scare me. You were nice.”

“Hah, did ya hear that, sunshine?” Lloyd yells, making you flinch. The door immediately flies open, and his assistant walks inside. “See, she thinks I’m nice.”

“Yeah, because she doesn’t know you like I do,” she puts her hands on her hips and glares at Lloyd. “Sweetie don’t let him talk you into this wild card shit. His buddies are the worst, and he’s the king of shit!”

“Darling don’t be rude,” he gets up to wrap his arms around her waistline. She squirms in his hold, giggling while pushing against his shoulders. “Give your man a kiss.”

“Not until you get rid of that mustache!”

“You love the mustache. It makes your clit all tingly when I go down on you,” he steals a kiss, and gropes her plump ass. “If not for my new client, I’d fuck you right here and now to put a little Lloyd inside of you.”

“You’ll take care of the sweet girl first. You better not pressure her into this shit,” she grunts and pushes Lloyd off her. “I expect you to be on your best behavior.”

She walks back outside and closes the door with a loud thud.

“A hell of a woman,” he hums and adjusts his pants. “I found her—” Lloyd clears his throat. “Never mind. That’s a story to tell later.”

“Can you tell me what the men will expect? I mean, aside from having sex with me.”

Lloyd smirks. “You don’t have to worry about kinky shit. The contract includes vaginal sex  - missionary, or doggy style. Maybe a blow job. Protection is a must. If you want it to be pleasurable for you too, play with your pussy, or think of something nice.”

“I’d imagine Bucky,” you blur out. “I—fuck.” You curse when Lloyd cocks a brow. “He’s my dad’s best friend, and a little older than me. Not a gramps or something.”

“Bucky, huh?” He nods thoughtfully. “That’s an interesting name.”

“It’s a nickname,” you hastily say. “His real name is James Buchanan Barnes.” You swoon now. “He never looked at me twice, but if I want to get off, I always imagine him.”

“As long as you don’t moan his name, I don’t care what you do to get into the mood,” Lloyd says, but there’s something in his eyes you can’t quite put a finger on. “Back to the options. Wild card yes or no?”

You look at the iPad again. What is one more stranger, right? “Yes.”

“Barnes,” Lloyd grins like the devil. “Hey, no swear words, sunshine. I got a nice little deal for you.” He grunts and mutters into the phone. “Would you just listen for a moment? A nice little bird came to me. I think you know her…”

“Y/N!” Your dad’s best friend jogs next to you. “Hey, long time no see.”

“Uh-hi,” you squeak when he wraps you in a hug. “Nice to see you, Bucky.”

“How have you been?” He releases you to lock you up and down. “You look a little stressed. Is everything alright? You know that you can always come to me. I’m like an uncle to you.”

“Uncle,” you wrinkle your nose. “Right.” You shake your head at the naughty thoughts wanting to force their way to the front of your mind. “I’m good. Really. Nothing to worry about.”

“You sure?” He presses on. “If you are scared to tell your dad, tell me. I won’t say a thing.”

“I said that I’m fine,” you snap at him as a woman gets out of his car and calls his name. “How about you go back to your arm candy and leave me alone? We haven’t heard of you for two years.”

You twirl around and storm off. You don’t need anyone to help you. Lloyd offered more money than you’ll need to pay the debts your dad left you when he passed away.

Bucky didn’t even know about it because he just doesn’t care…

“Pumpkin,” Lloyd claps his hands as you walk inside the expensive penthouse suite. “You look stunning.” He grins as you squirm under his gaze.

He walks toward you to hand you the iPad. “The wild card won the auction,” he casually says. “I transferred the town hundred and fifty thousand bucks to your bank account. This is the point of no return. If you want out, say it now.”

“I know,” you released a shuddery breath. “I don’t want to do this, but I need the money. It’s one night with a guy you trust. So…let’s get this over with.”

“On the bed is something the wild card got for you. OH, and he wants you to put the blindfold on. It’s his special request,” Lloyd gently pats your shoulder. “I promise he’s a good guy, and won’t hurt you, pumpkin. Just remember the only two rules. Never ask why they pay you for sex, and, never let them do anything you don’t want to.”

“Thank you—” you close your eyes and take deep breaths. “I can do this. Please leave me alone now. I need to get ready.”

“If he crosses a line,” Lloyd says. “You say Lloyd, and I take the door down.”

“What? I don’t understand.” You furrow your brows.

“Just say Lloyd.” He whispers in your ear.

“Lloyd,” you say, and the lights in the room turn red. An alarm shrills and you need to cover your ears. “Oh…wow.”

“See, I take care of my girls. Do not let him gag you, though,” he warns. “If he tries anything you don’t agree to, yell my name and I’m there in a split-second.”

You nod and give Lloyd a shy smile. “Thank you.”

“I make money with my girls. I don’t want them to get hurt or worse,” he says. “I’m not a saint or a good guy. But no one hurts my girls.”

You watch him leave the room and release another shuddery breath.

He’s right. This is it. The point of no return…

The gift from the wild card is a silky nightie dress in your favorite color. Midnight blue. It has a plunging back and lace-lined cups. It fits you like a second skin.

You close your eyes and count to ten to calm your racing heart as you put the blindfold on. It’s the wild card’s special wish, and you don’t want to piss him off right away.

Maybe the blindfold will make things easier. You can imagine any face, while the stranger is inside of you.

“You look breathtakingly beautiful.” You shudder as his voice is deep and rough. He entered the room without making a noise, and now he’s already so close you feel his breath fan over your neck. “I see you are wearing my gift.”

“Yes…Sir…” You breathlessly reply. His hands ghost over your arms, touching you gently. “Or do you want me to call you something else?”

“Hmm…” He hums. “We will see, doll.” You whimper at the pet name. “Can I call you doll? Is that alright with you?” His lips press against your neck, he nips at the sensitive spot behind your ear. “I need you to answer me.”

“Yeah, that’s alright with me,” you are already enchanted by the stranger. His scent is intoxicating, and his voice goes straight to your core.

“I’m gonna make you feel so good, doll,” he wraps one arm around your waistline to bring you close to his body. His chest is bare, and you feel his skin pressed against yours. “I dreamed of doing this with you.”

“You did?” You purr and lean your head against his shoulder. “What do you want to do with me?”

“You’ll see,” he chuckles as you press your butt into his crotch. “You’re eager to get me going, huh? Don’t worry. I’m already so hard for you it hurts.”

He releases you and steps away to admire your wrecked state. You’re a panting mess, and your legs quiver. “Beautiful and so responsive.” He’s back on you to slide the thin straps of the nightie down your shoulders. The stranger nips at your neck, leaving little love bites on his way. “I can’t wait to have you.”

“You have me,” you move your hand behind you, blindly grasping for his hair. He’s a stranger but feels so good against you. “I want you to have me.”

“I know, doll,” he whispers in your ear while shoving the nightie down your shoulders. The fabric drops to the ground and pools around your ankles. “I love how you feel against me. I bet you feel even better around me.”

His hands cup your breasts. One warm and soft, the other cold and a little rougher. He gropes your soft flesh and pinches your nipples. This stranger plays with your body and pulls all the right strings.

You don’t have to imagine someone else. His lips nipping at your earlobe, and his hands, those skilled tools press moans and whimpers out of you. “Sir…”

“It’s alright, doll. Be as vocal as you want to,” he smirks against your skin. “Relax and let me take good care of you.”

“Yes—” you hiss when he meaningly tugs at your nipples. “Ouch.”

“You are a big girl and can take it, baby doll,” he grinds into you to rub his aching cock against your butt. “I bet your pretty cunt is wet for me.”

Your voice fails. He’s moving one hand between your legs and pinches your clit through your soaked panties. “I knew it.” He teasingly pinches your clit, igniting another spark deep within you. “You’re mine now. Only mine. After tonight, you’ll never want another man. Say it!”

His other hand rips your panties off of your body, taking you by surprise. You squeak and giggle as he twirls you around. “You’re all I imagined you’d be,” he cups your face and presses his lips to yours.

You’ve been kissed before – but not like this. His lips are soft and tender, but the kiss gets heated when his hands move to your ass to hoist you up.

You end up in his arms and sling your legs and arms around his body out of instinct.

“Your lips taste like heaven.” He purrs while walking toward the bed. “I bet your sweet pussy tastes like sin.” You end up on the soft mattress, the stranger on top of you.

He kisses you again, slowly, and sensually this time. “I’m gotta have a taste, doll.” You wish you could watch him kiss his way down your body. It feels like his lips and hands caress every inch of your body they can reach. “It’s alright. You don’t have to be afraid.”

The stranger moves lower, kissing you right above your belly button. He moans against your skin, making you shiver at the slightest touch.

His hands move over your thighs, spreading them wide so he can settle between your legs.

“Let me have a taste of heaven,” he presses a searing kiss to your pussy. “I’ve got you, doll.”

You shudder feelings his nose brushes your clit. “So pretty down here too,” he murmurs against you. His breath tickles your folds, leaving you wanting more. “Shhh…” He shushes you. “I only want to eat this sweet cunt out.”

He spreads your pussy lips, to look at your clit. “Ah…S-ir.” You stammer. “What are you doing?”

“Did no man ever put his mouth on you?” He looks up at you from between your legs, groaning loudly when you shake your head. “Good. I’m your first for everything then.”

Your mouth falls open. Why would he want to do such a thing? Isn’t this night all about him, not you? “Why?”

“I love eating pussy, doll,” he laughs. “And I want you slippery wet so I can shove my dick right into your tight little hole.”

You grab your tits, squeezing your flesh to do anything but lie there and wait for the stranger to rule your body.

He teases your pearl with the tip of his tongue, eager to please you. A shudder runs through you. You are so lost in his touch that you nearly forget this is about him and that he paid you to touch you.

This is not love-making, but a business transaction. “Please just fuck me…”

“Not yet,” he slaps your pussy lips. “I want you to be a good girl and let me enjoy every moment. “This includes tasting your cunt.”

“Oh-“ It never crossed your mind that a man could be interested in eating you out before getting off. “Be my guest.” You sass and spread your legs wider. “I’m on the menu tonight.”

“That you are,” he kisses the inside of your left thigh, caressing the soft skin with his lips and tongue. “But only for me.” He turns his attention toward your right thigh.  

He wraps his arms around your legs and pulls you closer to his mouth. “Fuck, you smell so good, doll.” You gasp the moment he licks up your sex. It’s a new sensation and you already love it. “Use my face, come on.”

You bite your lower lip. Can you do this? Lloyd said this is all about the man’s fantasy, but he wants to give you pleasure too.

“Fuck,” you nod and start grinding your pussy against his mouth, hoping to get more of this new feeling. “Please.”

“Soon, baby doll,” he purrs and flicks his tongue to play with your little nub. You wiggle on the bed, grinding as he uses his mouth to send sparks of pleasure through your body. You don’t think, just feel.

You whimper and moan hearing him groan against you. He throws your left leg over his shoulder, spreading you wide as he teases your soaked hole with the tip of his index finger. “Oh God, yes. Please just put it inside,” you become impatient. “Fuck…please.”

He laughs but doesn’t say anything. Instead, he pushes one finger inside, curling his digit inside of you. “Relax, doll. I’m gonna give you my cock soon enough.”

“Y-es…p-lease,” you can’t think straight. Your body is on fire, and you need release, or you’ll lose your mind. “Please I want you to…”

“Baby,” he purrs while slowly starting to fuck you with his finger. “Soon…I’ve been waiting to have you for so long.”

He adds another finger, now pressing his fingertips against your sweet spot. “Fuck,” you exclaim loudly. “Ah, there…I need… I want…”

“No,” you don’t get to cum. He scissors you open, ignoring that you beg and plead. “Not yet. You’ll cum on my cock only. I want to feel you fall apart for the first time while I’m inside of you.”

“Fuck!”

“Oh baby doll,” he coos when you sniffle, and slam your fists into the mattress. “I don’t want to be cruel, only to make it easier for you to take me.”

“Please, I only want to feel you,” you hold out your hands, sniffling louder. “I need you to do it now before I get scared.”

“Shit,” you feel his fingers slip out of you. He crawls up your body and kisses you slowly. “Baby doll, tell me if you want me to stop. We don’t have to do this.”

“You pai—” He silences you with his lips and makes you forget that you are only here for him to get what he paid for. “I want you.” You don’t know why, but it’s true. All you want is to feel him inside of your body.

“Are you sure?” He asks against your lips. “Baby doll?”

“Yes,” you blindly grasp for him. “Please fuck me. I don’t want to wait any longer.” You don’t tell him that the man you wanted to be your first would never even look at you twice.

“You don’t have to beg me.” He angles his hips to run the tip of his cock up and down your folds. “I’ll give it to you.”

Your breath hitches in your throat, and a high-pitched shriek escapes your throat feeling his length slide slowly into you. He stills his hips, groaning loudly as your walls strain against his intrusion.

“Fuck, you’re so tight, baby doll.” He buries his face in your neck, murmuring your name as he moves back and forth, always pushing a little deeper. “Open up to me, pretty doll.”

It hurts a little, and you hide your face in his shoulder, whimpering any time he tilts his hips. “I know, baby doll. It will feel good soon. Let me just,” he breathlessly whispers in your ear. “I’m gonna make love to you, Y/N.”

You bite his shoulder when he slides all in with the next thrust. A whimper escapes your lips, and you claw at his back. “Shhh…you are doing so good for me, baby. I’m proud of you, my sweet princess.”

He wraps one arm around you and removes the blindfold with one swift motion. You gasp and dig your nails into his back. “Bucky?” You can’t help but whimper his name. “What?”

“I couldn’t let you do this. I wanted you for so long.” He claims your lips in a soft kiss. “You refused to take my help so I…”

“It’s you,” you cling to Bucky. “Not some stranger…it’s you…” you sniffle. “You’re here…”

“Yeah,” he breathes against your lips. “Do still want to…”

You wrap your legs around his waistline. “Yes…hell yes…” You grunt. “Please don’t stop now. We can’t stop now.”

He nuzzles his face in your neck and digs his knees into the mattress. You melt into his arms, knowing it’s not a stranger, but the man you adored and loved for years.

“We already broke all the rules, Y/N,” he slowly starts rocking his hips. “I can’t believe I’m doing this.” Bucky curses as you claw on his back. “My doll.”

He’s pushing harder into you with every thrust. It doesn’t matter that you feel like you are in a limbo of pleasured pain, or that you forgot the condom. All you are capable of is to stare up at Bucky as he takes you apart.

Your body belongs to him and opens up to Bucky like a flower finally deciding to bloom. Your core burns with desire for more of him. “Please.”

“I’ve got you, Y/N,” he sinks his teeth into your shoulder, causing you to cry out loudly. Something drops to the ground in the room next door, but you don’t care.

You rock your body in sync with Bucky, urging him on to claim you, and your whole being. Even if you should be mad at him for tricking you, you can’t. Not when he pushes you over the edge, his name on your lips nor when he spills into you, cursing your name.

“Baby,” he worriedly looks down at you. You are panting heavily and are unable to open your eyes. “Y/N, are you alright?”

“Yeah…I’m good…” 

Bucky slowly pulls out to lie next to you. He opens his arms and watches you lie on his chest.

“Why did you never come back?” You run your hand over his sweaty chest. “Bucky?”

“Your dad found out that I had a thing for his beloved daughter,” he runs his hand over your head. “I’m sorry. He left me no choice but to stay away from you. I had to keep my distance.”

“You could’ve come to his funeral,” you sniff. “Why did you leave me all alone?”

“I had problems with the law, and I was in the middle of a divorce. You didn’t need a drunk wreck longing for you,” he whispers. “I had to wait until I’m better and then Hansen called, telling me about your problems.”

“That fucker,” you grumble. “I knew he was going to trick me!”

“Don’t worry, baby doll,” Bucky softly says. “I paid all your dues before coming here. I just couldn’t resist you any longer. I had to have you.”

He lifts his head to look you in the eyes. “Can you forgive me, Y/N?”

“I’ll consider forgiving you if you explain everything to me later. Like – how do you know Lloyd Hansen? And what is going on with his assistant?”

“You will get to know everything.” He pecks your lips. “For now, all you need to know is that I love you…always have…”

Tags in reblog.

[selfproclaimedloveologist]

Weddings were supposed to be days of happiness, spent savoring the special day you bound yourself to your partner. This wedding, however, was devoid of joy.

You had heard rumours about the infamous Mydeimos, and had sighed as you learned of each new territory he conjured and people he'd slain. You parents must have known of you horror just from hearing stories about the prince. But alas, you were set to marry him. Today.

You sat in front of a vanity, admiring yourself. You had on a long white dress that flowed like water, along with precious jewels such as rubies and sapphires coating your neck and hands with a gold band. As you stared at your reflection, your eyes showed no joy like stories had told of brides. In fact, there was a ferocious ache and emptiness inside, gnawing at you. You had dreaded this day the moment it was marked. There was something so surreal about marrying someone you didn't know.

Being abruptly snapped out of your mind when a bridesmaid entered your room, and grabbed you by the arm, forcing you to trail after her.

The ceremony was nothing exciting. Truly, it was mediocre. The sky shone a light blue, the bells rang out, you gave a loveless kiss to Mydei. Nothing exciting.

Now you sat on Mydeis bed. His room was rather large, though it was filled mainly with air. Besides a bookshelf and a bed far to large for anyone, the room was vacant, like a ghost was inhabiting it.

You sat on the large bed, spreading your entire body out to make yourself comfortable. You had put on a white skimpy nightgown since it was comfortable enough and your parents hadn't packed anything else since they thought they were getting grandkids, and didn't deem anything more substantial necessary for the night. The silky bedsheets underneath you felt like they were wrapping around your body, making you feel at ease. That comfort was cut short though.

"Well if your going to take up the whole bed, I'll just sleep in the servants chamber." You instantly recognized the voice. Leaning against the doorway of the room was Mydei, small droplets of water fell down his chin and his hair dropped over his face a little. Along with that he paraded nothing but a towel on, letting his bare torso be completely exposed.

"You took a shower?" You question, completely ignoring his earlier remark. Your eyes quickly fell onto his torso, admiring how toned and in shape he was.

"Of course I did. It was hot as hell outside and the wedding was hours." He stated, making his way to the bed. He took long confident strides before hovering over the bed, looking at you, as if for permission to lay. After you give him a nod, he sits down, the bed curving around his body as he sat down.

Now the bed felt so very small. Before it had felt like an entire island, but now with Mydei here, it feels like its just the two of you.

"You know, most people on their weddings nights..." You begin, before being quickly interrupted.

"Have sex?" Mydei supplied bluntly. He now lowered all his weight onto the bed. Now you could really see his body. Despite having a towel on, he still looked hot as fuck. Your eyes once again fell onto his abs, admiring them momentarily, before his voice snapped you out of a trance. "Did your parents tell you that you married me because I wanted you?"

You were taken aback. You never really knew why you were married off, and you never bothered to inquire about it, because you knew they wouldn't have given an answer. But Mydei, wanting you so bad he married you? Was this some sort of cruel joke?

"You.. Wanted me?" The words come out hesitantly, as if your scared to speak in front of your husband.

"Of course I did. Have you seen yourself? I might be known as cold hearted, but that doesn't mean I don't desire." He then abruptly moved to hover over your body, pinning your wrists above you on the bed as he placed his legs around yours, as if trapping your legs between his.

You were yet again, taken aback by this revolution. With him hovering over you, and positioning you like this, you felt as if you were going to burst of lust.

He then moved his face closer to the shell of your ear, whispering lowly, "anyways, your my wife now. And my wife deserved whatever she desires. Including pleasure."

And then you felt soft kisses trail up your neck. His kisses were surprisingly light and airy. He moved one of his hands to your waist, using the other one to still keep your hands pinned. His hands were noticeably bigger then your own.

As he touched you and kisses you, you couldn't stutter a word. You were so lost in everything. In the marriage. Your parents. And most of all, his touch. It was as if his touch was a sedative that completely numbed you as he began to trail kisses up your jawline, until reaching your lips.

His breath was hot and smelled nice against your lips. He slowly used his hand to circle small calming circles on your back, making you feel awfully relaxed at the motion.

His lips finally met your own, he sucked on your bottom lip first, and then gave you light kisses before opening his mouth, while you did the same, allowing him entry into you. His kiss was now filled with desire, like it was pent up rage brimming to get out. He kissed aggressively, making your mouth his toy.

What a wonderful wedding night.

[narcissistcookbook]

I'm finally listening to Myth, and man. Your works always make me want to tell stories. I just wish I knew how to find the stories inside of myself. The most I seem to be able to do is leapfrog off an existing story, weaving frayed ends of canon into something that feels more complete to me and in conversation with itself, adding onto characters so they're more than just a 2d cutout.

Theres always these recurring themes that appear in what I've made, though. I know those must be what the stories rotting in my throat are about- I just don't know how to extract them.

I'll figure it out one day.

(Sorry for the long ask, the details just felt appropriate for these albums in particular.)

okay, well, maybe this will help

the album MYTH is a big hodgepodge of different influences. details below the break for people who don't want the album demystified

the core idea draws on the relatively contrived PR narrative surrounding Bon Iver's first album ('he's just a regular dude with a guitar who got broken up with and recorded an album in a cabin' ) and The Lost Songs Of St Kilda (a collection of lofi recordings of piano melodies written on the real life isolated island of St Kilda before it was cleared, performed by a dying man in assisted living who had learned them from his childhood piano teacher who had grown up on St Kilda)

the idea of being compelled to tell fairytales against your will is lifted heavily from Susanna Clarke's Jonathan Strange And Mr Norrell (in which a character is cursed to tell surreal fairytales whenever she tries to tell people a secret). i also found out after publishing it that a very similar fate befalls a character in the Sandman series although i've never read it

the idea of layered recordings with some kind of entity buried beneath the layers - this is getting into lore than isn't directly referenced on the album - is loosely based on the 1972 horror film The Stone Tape (where a ghost haunting a castle is revealed to be a 'recording' in the castle's stone walls of someone who died of fright - when they wipe the recording the ghost disappears, and is replaced by the even stranger and more frightening entity that scared her to death)

the layers commenting on and later conversing with each other is a trick i vaguely remember in House Of Leaves although i haven't read it since it came out

the islanders who have a cult-like relationship with a magical being is such a well-worn trope i shouldn't even need to reference it

Heavy Rain On Hot Tin Roofs is a reworking of a shitpost i wrote years earlier advertising a pub trivia night i run. it wasn't supposed to even be a story, the characters didn't exist in my head until years after i wrote it. i do wonder sometimes if the notion of writers experiencing their characters as real, living beings inside their minds is an unhelpful myth. a character is a magic trick you are playing on your audience, and the purpose of a magic trick isn't to fool yourself. a lot of writers won't find their characters as convincing as they want to because they know how the tricks they're pulling to make them seem real to everyone else

the fairytales themselves are told in fragments because that was all i had. i knew i wouldn't have time for whole stories so i skipped to the parts of the stories / images that resonated most with me - but also, writing traditional narratives isn't one of my strengths, and i knew fragments that tease the existence of longer stories would be more evocative than any full story i could write

these are only the examples i can think of off the top of my head

my point is, if you sit around waiting for your work to not feel derivative you're robbing a potential audience of your take on familiar ideas. the way ideas and settings and characters you've nicked from other places brew and stew in your mind is unique to you. no one steals like you do 💜

[millsluthor]

Women’s Day had never been a particularly remarkable date for you. Maybe in passing—social media posts, a few discussions in class about gender equality, the occasional deep dive into feminist psychology.

But this year was different.

This year, you were spending it alongside her. SSA Emily Prentiss. Your girlfriend.

Even after months of being together, the title still felt surreal. Dating Emily had been like stepping into another world—a world of sharp intelligence, unwavering confidence, and the kind of presence that could quiet a room without a single word. And yet, somehow, she had chosen you. You, with your self-doubt and your endless worries about whether you were good enough.

The two of you had signed up to volunteer at a local youth center for Women's Day. You had jumped at the opportunity, eager to gain experience working with children in crisis, a path you desperately wanted to follow in your future career. Emily, always supportive, had immediately agreed to come along.

And now, here you were, standing awkwardly near the refreshment table, gripping your coffee like it was an anchor. Your hands shook slightly, and you silently willed yourself to calm down. Emily, ever observant, noticed. She always did.

"You okay?" she asked, her voice low and warm.

You glanced up at her. She was dressed casually—jeans, a fitted blazer over a soft blouse, hair falling effortlessly around her shoulders. She looked at ease, like she belonged anywhere she chose to be. Meanwhile, you felt… well, out of place.

"Yeah," you lied, then sighed. "No."

Her expression softened. She stepped closer, her hand resting lightly on your back. Not enough to overwhelm you, but enough to ground you. "Talk to me."

You swallowed. "I just… I really want to do this right. I want to help. But what if I say the wrong thing? What if I make things worse?"

Emily tilted her head, considering you in that way she always did—like she was seeing straight through to the core of you. It was both terrifying and comforting. "Do you think I always know the right thing to say?" she asked.

You blinked. "You?"

She smirked slightly. "Yes, me" Then she sighed, her fingers tracing small circles against your back. "I can’t tell you how many times I’ve second-guessed myself after talking to a victim. Or a witness. Or a child who’s been through something unimaginable. Sometimes, there is no right thing to say. Sometimes all you can do is be there."

You bit your lip. "But what if just being there isn’t enough?"

"It is," she said simply. "More than you know."

Her words settled into you, soothing some of the anxiety buzzing in your chest. You weren’t sure you believed them completely, but if Emily Prentiss thought you had something to offer, maybe—just maybe—you did.

Still, doubt lingered. "I just feel like… I’ll never be as strong as you."

Emily exhaled through her nose, a mix between a laugh and a sigh. She turned slightly, her fingers tilting your chin up so you had to look at her. "You see me as strong," she murmured, searching your face.

"But do you know what I see?" Your throat went dry.

"What?"

"I see someone with so much heart," she said, brushing her thumb across your jaw. "Someone who cares so deeply that it scares her. Someone who wants to help people—not for recognition, not for validation, but because it’s just who she is." Your breath hitched. "You’re already stronger than you think," she continued, her voice soft yet steady. "And I love you for it."

The words sent a warmth through you, replacing the doubt, at least for now. You leaned into her touch, exhaling slowly.

"I love you too." Emily smiled, squeezing your waist gently before pulling away. "Come on," she said, her tone lighter now.

"Let’s go make a difference today."

And with her by your side, you finally believed you could.

[buryhny]

One Night Stand ; 03

➥ rundown ; as if the unexpected twist of a one-night stand turning out to be your CEO boss wasn't surreal enough, the situation takes a more challenging turn when both of you discover that you're expecting his child.

→ genre ; enemies to lovers | CEO au | pregnancy trope | slowburn

→ Jungkook x y/n → contains smut, fluff and angst → Chapter Three ; wc | 6.5k

primarily on Wattpad

index ⇢ next chapter

"Okay now this is so fucking amazing! he really decided to choose me of all, this was unbelievable but- also what the heck?" You speak to yourself, walking side by side in your living room while you bite your nails and look at the damn email that you received.

Congratulations on Your New Role as Graphic Designer

Dear Ms Lee Y/L/N,

I hope this email finds you well. I am writing to extend my heartfelt congratulations on being selected for the Graphic Designer position at Jeon Industries.

We are thrilled to welcome someone of your talent to our team. Your portfolio speaks volumes about your ability to bring fresh and innovative ideas to our projects. We are confident that your expertise will significantly contribute to the success of our design team and elevate the visual appeal of our brand.

As you prepare to embark on this new journey with us, please feel free to reach out if you have any questions or if there's anything you need to facilitate a smooth transition. We believe that your unique perspective and skills will be invaluable to our ongoing projects, and we look forward to seeing the positive impact you will undoubtedly make.

Once again, congratulations on this well-deserved achievement. We are excited to have you on board and are confident that you will thrive in your role as a key member of our creative team. If there are any preliminary tasks or preparations required before your start date, please let us know, and we'll be happy to assist

Best regards,

Lee Y/L/N

Graphic designer

Jeon industries

See, the mail looks inviting, warm, exciting, and a mix of emotions rush inside your system. It's happiness as well as nervousness and anxiety. Like you're unsure of this yet. It doesn't sound very accepting yet, especially after you've seen the CEO himself. "they really did not have any choice?" You ask yourself and sit on the couch. As you give it thought, it also sounds funny. Remembering your now CEO, Mr. Jeon. You think that he probably has had many nightstands in his life.

It isn't surprising, as he's like every other man who has his needs, besides he's also good-looking and very rich. chuckling, you mentally slap yourself at the though of him fucking other women. "Sounds so fun!" You tell out loud, planning to hook up with someone sooner again. But with work now, you don't think you'll find the time especially after the phone call you received by an unknown number that was from Jeon Industries,

informing you that they need you present tomorrow to sign the contract and immediately begin work as the recruitment process had taken way too much longer than planned and the new project coming up needs you to be a part of the innovations too. That definitely scares you, thinking about how you're gonna work tomorrow and it being your first day sounds so hectic but now you've got nothing to care about except the job. You've finally been recruited after working at multiple cafés for a small salary. saying goodbye to the few friends you made at the cafe wasn't too bad considering how the friendship lasted for just about 3 months. you changed jobs a number of time so it wasn't a big deal neither was it too sad. 

But working your passion, graphic designing is all that you've been wanting, and when the opportunity grabs your hand, all you've got to do is hold it back and tighten it to your palms. Leaving your phone on the couch you moved to your bedroom, grabbing the outfit that you're gonna wear tomorrow so you could iron it with no creases since you must look presentable on your first day.

You're gonna meet the other employees, see everyone there so you must look amazing too. Considering how elegantly the women looked when you first entered the Jeon building for your interview they walk around with files in their hands, their identification card around their necks and their heels clicking on the tiles, carrying them confidently.

You picked out a black turtleneck and wide leg pants that were grey to match with your top. It was classy and simple enough for your 8 hour shift. Dinner was down too, you weren't very good at cooking even though your mother passed down her old recipes to you in her cookbook that's probably somewhere inside a drawer, dusty and torn papers. You're not the cleanest person you know and you are also not one to treasure stuff, the cook book was your moms precious item but it's hidden under tools and you're the least bothered about it. So you stuck to eating food from the convenience stores down the street as it's open 24/7. It's one of the best parts about Korea, having stores open every hour and having a wide range of food to choose from.

It's amazing and there's always something new to try, it's fresh too and keeps you healthy or that's what you think. You missed out on it while you were at college because even though you were born in Daegu and your parents are from Daegu and Ilsan, you three moved to Canada at a very young age due to most of your family migrating there and also for financial purposes since your dad worked there for years and basically lived in Canada all his life even after marriage until he decided to move his family there so he wouldn't have to transfer money and was also welcomed home to his wife's and daughter's presence.

Preparing for bed, you picked up your favourite book 'shatter me' that you've been hooked on the past few days, it's a better way to fall asleep than viewing social media at night. The words blurred a bit while you read, until your eyes completely shut so you placed your book at the night stand and turned to hug your plushy so you could sleep well.

-

You are glad that the loud sound of your alarm broke your sleep and hurried you to dress up. you're glad that your apartment has a close distance to the building you are now working at. It's just a few kilometers and that allows you to be calm. When you stepped into the building, you were guided by the staff member to the CEO's cabin. You take a deep breath before you step inside the room to see the man seated on his chair, in his tailored black coat that was put around his chair leaving him with his shirt and inner waist coat. He was typing into his mac book and when you walked in, his eyes flicked to your figure then back to his screen.

The man who guided you here, whispers over to you to take a seat and pay attention to Mr. Jeon's words. Jungkook looks at you when you've finally settled on the chair, he pushes his mac book down and looks at you with his dark hooded eyes that look empty. Before his eyes could meet yours, he saw the fumbling of your fingers, that portrayed your nervousness to him even though your face showed no sign of anxiousness. He looks into your eyes as yours bore to him. One thing he now knows is that alcohol does shit to people but he doesn't think it affects you much because even though your breath reeked of champagne and your movements assured him that you're so fucking drunk, he can still see the same person seated in front of him. Only a bit more contained and disciplined and who speaks with respect.

"How have you been, Ms Lee?" He questioned you with an intimidating voice, he now places his arms on the table as his palms join together while he glares at you. His stares do make you flush but you avoid thinking about it so the effect doesn't show itself on your face. "Very well, Mr Jeon, how have you been?" You replied to him, keeping up an affirm tone, to hide back your anxiousness that slowly creeps up in between seconds. "Likewise." He responded confidently while his fingers drummed on his table that definitely didn't go unnoticed by you, his slim fingers looked gorgeous and were so beautifully molded.

The man tossed a file in front of you after questioning your wellbeing. "Read this carefully, and sign it if you agree on the terms and conditions and are fully aware of the employment contract." nodding at his words, you open up the document and progress to read each page not missing out on a single word. You don't want to make any mistakes so you go slow and steady with this, as it's the first step.

You signed the papers when you found everything okay, it was all fine and you agreed on all rules and information listed. "If you have any questions, proceed to ask Mr. Jung. He will give you a tour around here. You may leave." He muttered as he got back to his work, opening his mac and typing what he left incomplete. His tone was not something you were a huge fan of, it was arrogant, you could see it but he was also so full of attitude and full of himself. He spoke a handful of words and they were already too painful for your ears. You stood from your chair, bowed at the man before leaving the room.

You left out a loud exhale and walked out of the room. Mr Jung, the man with parted hair, full suit and a long face stood beside you after you walked out, he chuckled when he heard you sigh. "We all feel that when we meet Mr. Jeon. Let me give you a tour of the building" He guided you to the elevator, taking to you on level 31, just one floor below Mr Jeon's office. As the elevator opened up, you could see how well focused and quiet this department was. You walked along with Mr Jung, and he led you to your area.

"So this is the most important department, the graphic designing department, since our company Jeon Industries prioritizes our employees needs and wants, we have a very comfortable and convenient area for you, as you're the graphic director. There's some important features you must know. Before that, let me introduce myself. I'm Jung Hoseok, the manager of this department, you can call me Hoseok."

He reached his hand out to you, which you gladly shook with a smile on your face. The man had a beautiful smile that expressed his kindness and softness in his voice. "So, as you are aware, Jeon Industries specialises in advertising and selling of brands, brands that we own, as well as supporting the biggest companies out there. How does graphic designing work out? Well, we do adverts for the biggest and the best companies in a variety of industries, makeup industry, fashion industry, and even the food industry. And to mention Mr Jeon also has his own brand of clothing. Hence, this falls quite heavy on the graphic director, you."

Hoseok said, this made you exhale a quick breath, which you soon covered with a smile when you hear the man speak about his serious business. "It's not too bad, you'll do it. And The campaigns that you've obviously seen on TV, social media of Dior makeup, Kylie cosmetics, Balenciaga, Calvin Klein, Celine, Gucci, Louis Vuttion, Veneta Bottega and more were done by us, thus increasing their sales like shooo."

He gestured with his hands, showing the increase of sales and exaggerating it. "We've been doing well in the business world and have very high recognition for our amazing advertising team and creativity, so you've got to work a bit harder. We've got a project in two days and that's the reason why I'm explaining things fast and detailed. You must be prepared for anything and please don't hesitate to ask anything from me.

Treat me as your friend." He placed his hand on his chest and bowed. You already liked this man a lot. "So I will leave yo -" "Well, well, look, who's here?" A raspy honey-like voice spoke, you turned around to face it, and there you saw a beautiful man walking towards you with his palms inside his pants pocket. His beauty was out of this world, his expressive eyes that looked into your soul, and his walk? He doesn't walk, he models.

You noticed how Hoseok was sighing deeply when he saw the arrival of this man, he scratched his forehead and looked away, without meeting your curious eyes. "So this is our new graphic director? Ms. Lee Y/n! The one who replaced me in this position with zero work experience." You frown when you hear the words that come out of his mouth. Replaced him? Was he supposed to be taking this job? "Jimin, there's no need to -"

"Ah, ah, there is a need to let her know the damage she's done." The man pushed his silky blonde hair back and smirked. you noticed how plump his lips are, looking at you with a fake smile. "I was supposed to be the creative director, but you, Ms. No work experience replaced me! So you'll have to pay for it. You've got to survive in this job before you fly high." He speaks, gritting his words from his teeth before he walks away, knocking Hoseok with his shoulder. You looked over at Mr Jung, who clicks his tongue and heaves a sigh. You needed an explanation, if that man is gonna bully you at work for something you hadn't done and have no idea about, then you're gonna have to let the CEO know about this, you're not here to tolerate shit.

"Mr Park didn't-" "What did he mean by I replaced his position?" You asked, curious as to why the man was blaming you with hatred. "Since all the applicants weren't to the standard, Mr Jeon acknowledged Mr. Park and considered handing over the position to Jimin but that was not promised, the shortlist of applicants were not up to mark until you turned up so Mr Jeon decided to fill the vacancy with you."

"Why did Mr Jeon not give the position to Jimin? Hasn't he been working here before?" Hoseok looked at the ground, contemplating if he should go into more detail with this, but he decided it would be best if you know what the problem is since it concerns you.

"You see filling the vacancy with internal recruitment is a good idea, Jimin is well aware of how things work but filling the vacancy from external recruitment brings new ideas to the business and that's exactly what Jeon Industries needs you know-" Hoseok spoke, obviously hiding something because his eyes looked everywhere except yours which was quite obvious since he spoke to you making eye contact before. "Is there anything more?" He bit his lower lip, caught.

Is he really an open book with his expressions, he thought. "Well- Mr Jeon does not like Jimin very much, it's due to Jimin's behavior towards work but anyways I'm gonna let you look around your work space, remember if you need me I'm just by the corner of the right corridor."

Hoseok said, and you nodded, thanking him and letting him continue his work. You walked inside your corner, taking a seat on the office chair,looking around your personal office. You've now got a desktop, a laptop, and an ipad of your own to work with. There's some files and papers lying around and expensive stationery too, but overall what you liked the best was the privacy that you obtained here, your own working space.

"Wow, this is very different from a cafe." you speak to yourself and laughed quietly about it, Sighing, you leaned back on the chair and closed your eyes. You finally got a job that can show your abilities. Applying the years of hard work is gonna pay off now, and that makes you feel so happy.

-

waking up at 7 in the morning is difficult considering how you usually work part-time at the cafe so you had your own shifts but full time working is new to you, though it's exciting it is also nerve-wrecking to wake up so early and it's still your second day at work. 

You didn't have much to do today, but you were informed to be prepared for a meeting tomorrow that will test your abilities. It's a meeting with Han Paris, and he's said to be the largest alcohol manufacturer and wants to advertise his latest alcohol flavor to the market. No lie but you're definitely feeling anxious about it but nevertheless you were ready to take up the challenge to showcase the best idea out of all now that you've got the position, you must show justice to it and not disappoint the CEO himself. When you got home, you finally felt relieved, like a burden was removed from your shoulders.

You've been living off with a pretty okay number of won that you earned from the café that you worked part time in. Finally, you're earning a salary that serves the right amount to live off with. To pay your rent, your monthly rations, and even have a very fair percentage to save or get yourself anything you want. Getting into your pj's, you prepared dinner for yourself, just a light salad, nothing too heavy, because Hoseok treated you with an evening snack as a welcome gift from him . That was a very sweet act. You didn't have to think about tomorrow's breakfast because the cafeteria is always open and the food tastes amazing!

You decided to check out some of the advertisements done by Jeon Industries just to get an idea of what they've been doing for years. So you pulled out your work laptop, Hoseok said you could take it home for any preparations, so this was the opportunity to use it. Everything was already saved in the folders. What blew your mind was that each ad campaign was very different from one another. That makes you think how innovative the ideas of the designers are, and that also scares you because tomorrow you will be seated with them and they'll be your competitors, though you all aim to just get the deal for Mr. Jeon.

You've got to present your idea and hear them out but it's not that easy, you want yours to stand out because it's not just about the idea, it's also a test that Mr Jeon has put you to, Hoseok mentioned that if Mr Jeon says you to be prepared he means it. Everything should be perfect, as he's a perfectionist, you can't afford to make a mistake. You're gonna work hard to achieve it. Moreover, it's his reputation and money that's at stake. Anyone would want it to be perfect. Once you've grasped the amazing and unique ideas of the past campaigns, you decided to research Han Paris and his business.

Since apparently, the latest wine has never been in the market before, the target audience is adults that drink and if that's not enough the prices of the wine are premium, that explains enough to you. You really took time to read every detail mentioned in the document that was sent by Hoseok, and then you took some time to think. The alcohol flavour is not just any berry, It's a vanilla mulberry flavour. When you think of berries, you remember the beautiful nature, but also, you remember how you grew up with your grandmother, spending your holidays with her at her lovely cottage where she planted a variety of vegetables and fruits. You smiled, remembering those tiny moments in life. You looked at the bottle and the packaging of the wine, it's very classy and expensive. Nevertheless, you decided to stick to your own vision of creativity. Maybe something new and out of the box could make it? We don't know unless we try.

You did a little presentation, wrote down details and points regarding it, and prepared yourself for what's coming tomorrow.

-

it's meeting day and you're nervous, your face shows and your fumbling with the fingers give it away too. but you're so glad that Hoseok was there by your side to give your company so you don't feel alone. for the betterment of your meeting, Hoseok advised you about how things work here during meetings. He'd also give you more closure to the CEO's working attitudes. How Mr Jeon, has direct communication, he'd give feedback only when he wants to, if he doesn't. Don't expect. Decisions made by the CEO are tough and final, he prioritizes the efficiency for his business and has high standards that he expects his employees to achieve and exceed, as a matter of fact, Mr Jeon has limited social interactions and he avoids making conversations to anyone in the building. "He may also raise his tone, if he's unsatisfied with your job, so don't freak out." Hoseok says at which you roll your eyes. Of course, he's got the money. And the right to do so.

Lucky for you, you haven't seen much of him after signing the contract, but since he'll be here for the meeting, you wont lie that you feel slightly more than just nervous now, knowing more about him. Its funny how he was a totally different human when he fucked you.

At 2 p.m., you walked into the board room along with a handful of other staff members that included Jimin. You took your seat, and Jimin sat in front of you. You didn't miss how his eyes looked right through you or how his eyebrows moved a lot while he smirks. He looked confident, very confident that his idea will be selected, and it's only making you feel anxious but you keep your face as blank as an empty canvas so no one sees what you feel inside. In about 10 minutes, the CEO of Paris Aliénor, Han Paris and three of his staff members walked inside. Everyone in the room stood to greet him. The man had minimal facial action, that means he had no smile. But he did have his chin raised, like he belongs here and holds superiority.

"Where's Mr Jeon?" He questioned and the staff looked at each other's faces, including you. "Uh, Mr. Jeon will be-" "call him now. You -" he pointed at you with his index finger. "Call Mr Jeon right now. My time is precious." You looked at him and pointed your finger at yourself because you weren't certain if he gave the instruction to you, the staff seated beside you elbowed you and gestured you to do as he said as you nodded and stood from your chair to get Mr Jeon.

"Shit, why did he tell me?" You murmured to yourself while walking towards the CEO's cabin. "Fuck, Just knock, poke your head in, and tell him to come, that's it." You exhaled and then pushed the door open only for it to be fully opened by Mr Jeon himself. You stumbled a bit and then looked up at him, and he looked down at you. "Uh- Mr. Han asked for y- "I know, you may leave."

He spoke without glancing over you even once, the tone he uses to speak has a hint of arrogance. It was rude. You nodded your head and walked forward while he followed you. Jungkook looked at your back while you walked, that same back;

"Fuck- let me go! Horny." You speak as the man tried to put his dick back inside you but you're worn out and cant take anymore, its almost 3 am and you've both been fucking each other like animals. It seems like it wasn't just you that was desperate for sex, he was too. Much more than you. "Fuck- one more round." He whispers to your ear in his raspy voice but you pushed him away and stood from the bed that was wet from all that white slime.

"No, i don't think i could walk-" your feet wobbled a bit when you stood, you didn't walk until you balanced well. The man admired your naked back, he loved how you had the perfect proportions. He could not take his eyes off you. "Seems like your ex hadn't fucked you right." This made you chuckle. "He didn't." You picked up your dress and lingerie, hooking it before slipping into the black dress. "Quickie, i'll be fast-" "get your ass home!" You both bickered, he looked up at the ceiling and laughed quietly. "Zip it up for me."

He turns his gaze on you, sees your back out open. Smirking as he grows closer to you, the elbow helps him lift himself higher so he can zip the dress up, he did, slowly as he took the time to kiss. "Fuck! you're one fucking woman!" "Of course I am." He places his palm on your hair, gripping it and pulling you down to kiss your neck. "I'll mark you for the last time, darling. Then leave and don't ever come back."

He shook his head to forget what he did and all that he told you. He had to permanently delete it off his brain, god he was so done with this. He could sense the tension, but he didn't want to act obvious. You both walked into the board room, and everyone greeted each other before the meeting started. Everything was going okay until the staff were asked to present their ideas. Jimin started off first, and his idea was a classy club advertisement. Han Paris seemed to really like it because you noticed how he kept nodding his head while Jimin spoke the details out and explained his vision. Mr. Jeon had no expressions on his face, like a clear palette. No emotions.

"Thank you so much for your attention." He spoke before taking his seat. He looked at you with a smirk like as if he had already won, and that only made things more difficult for you. Jimin mouthed, 'I win' with his plump lips and you sighed in nervousness, Jungkook noticed the interaction between the two of you, glancing at Jimin then you and he understood immediately, this was Jimin's trick to always out on his opponent even if they both work for the same company. "Ms. Lee, anything prepared for us today?"

Jungkook spoke, and you soon looked at him and then nodded. You've always been confident. Just go for it, don't let anyone make you feel nervous, come on. You thought to yourself and stood from the chair, walking towards the center, you plugged the wire to the laptop and the screen showed everyone your presentation.

You cleared your throat and then spoke about your idea. Everyone had their eyes on you, and that somehow made you feel comfortable talking more about your idea as they seemed interested. "When I first read the description of the product, It immediately took me back to my old days where I would spend my vacation with my aunt and grandmother in the countryside. We had a beautiful mulberry tree, that is the main feature of you-" "can we move on to the other details."

Han Paris interrupted your speech, wanting you to skip the part of your opinion on alcohol. He found it unnecessary and a waste of time. "Uh, s-sure." although you were understanding, it somehow broke your confidence and your flow of speech. suddenly you don't know what exactly to say so you just conclude the speech as fast as you can, so you don't feel anymore anxious

"I think a 90s colourful theme of an advertisement would attract more adults to try out the new flavour, in my opinion, that brings us to an end, thank you for hearing me out." Everyone nodded and gave a slow round of applause while you walked towards your chair to take a seat. Jungkook looked at you from the corner of his eyes and sighed. "What do you think, Mr Jeon?"

Han Paris questioned him, and then Jungkook turned to face him with a fake smile. "I think all my employees' ideas are very unique in their own ways. It's best if you decide along with your team." Han contemplated a little, speaking to his secretary and a few other businessmen from his side, and then he nodded when everyone agreed to him.

"I find Park Jimin's idea suitable. I appreciate everyone's efforts, but I'm going with Park Jimin's." Jimin looked at you and scoffed in arrogance, his actions made you feel worse about yourself. Jungkook nodded and then spoke, "we will begin with the preparations of shooting the advertisement." He swiftly looked at you as you're the creative director now and have to engage in the entire creature process.

"That sounds good to me." Han spoke and then shook hands with Jungkook as they both stood from their seats and then Han walked out of the room, Jungkook fixed his tie in place and looked around the room, he could see how upset you looked behind that fake smile you put on. "Everyone did their best, and all ideas were great in their own way. Don't feel down because you weren't chosen today. There's always a next time."

He spoke still coldly, it's what he always says once a meeting is done. you appreciated his words that he said before he walked away, after everyone stood from their seats to pay respect. "Oh, Ms. Lee, maybe next time, mm?" Jimin spoke and chuckled as he left with the rest of the staff, leaving you alone. You're not being dramatic. You're just embarrassed, and that's obvious. In front of your boss? And stupid Park Jimin, who now has something to laugh and mock about. You stood from your seat and took your belongings as you walked towards your desk. As soon as you placed your stuff and sat on the chair, Hoseok ran towards you.

"Hey, I heard the meeting went well. How was it for you?" You looked up at him and gave him a soft smile that he didn't mirror because he could see that it was fake. "What's wrong?" You sighed deeply and said, "it was okay, Jimin's idea was chosen." Hoseok rolled his eyes. He knew Jimin was already too arrogant and proud of his idea. Now that his idea was chosen, he's surely gonna make it a huge deal. "You did your best, and this was your first meeting. Come on. Cheer up"

You nodded and then chuckled sarcastically under your breath as you whispered, "Han Paris literally embarrassed me in front of everyone." Hoseok squinted his eyes and looked at you with concern. "What did he do?" "He shut me when I gave my own opinion and a story about my family relating to his wine." Hoseok groaned loudly and then looked at you, "you know what, screw him. Let's go get you a treat." You frowned and looked up at him.

"Treat?" "In celebration of your first meeting in Jeon Industries. Come on!" He gave you a wide smile, his white smile and oh boy, does that smile look lovely. You nodded, standing from your seat. You followed him to the elevator to get to the cafeteria. Hoseok is the only one who's being nice to you so far. Everyone else seems to have not noticed your presence yet.

"Did you have your lunch?" "Uh not yet, but-" "I need two cheeseburgers, two sprites, and a blueberry cheesecake, please." He ordered lunch for you even though it was not necessary. Maybe you should treat him with lunch next time. In a few minutes, he walked towards the table with the food in his hands, giving you a wide smile as he handed over your share of the lunch.

"Thanks, Hoseok." "No mention." He said as you both took a bite of the oozing cheese burger. He then took out the little box from the brown paper bag and placed it in front of you, "Here's your treat, the best cheesecake in town for your first ever meeting here at Jeon Industries, congratulations! More to come." You began to laugh, and so did he, laughing out really loud.

Like really loud. "You didn't have to." You say, and he waved with his hand, gesturing to you that it's fine. "I wanted to do this, and we can also take it as the beginning of our friendship." "Sure." The both of you giggled and high five. Hoseok took this time to speak a little more about himself and he even mentioned that his family and friends called him 'Hobi,' so you decided to tease him with the name Hobi too, he shrugged and said he doesn't mind it.

You didn't want to speak a lot about yourself, but you're surely excited to hear more about him. Like this, the working day ended and you didn't really feel bad about the meeting after all, it's a part of learning and now you know you should limit your speech when it comes to your opinion, people like Han Paris just don't care.

You learnt quite a lot for the day, and when you thought this was gonna be the worst day, it turned out better than you imagined. Except meeting Park Jimin in the basement. You walked towards your car, humming to yourself in your own world. Jimin rested his back in your car with folded arms and a smirk on his face. He's the last person you wanted to see.

He's getting on your nerves now. "Well, Ms. Lee, I came here to congratulate you." 'How you embarrassed yourself!' He could clearly see the frustration in your eyes and frown lines. Deeply exhaling, you continued to walk to the driver's side, opening the door, but he closed it with his hand and leaned towards it. "Oh, come on."

"What do you want, Jimin?" You murmured exhaustedly, still holding onto your car door not meeting his eyes because you just want to go home and sleep, you laughed too much today, ate too much, Hoseok treated you with his hidden snacks and you spoke for hours. You need some rest to get charged for tomorrow, and Jimin is certainly not helping. He sniggered cockily, not making any eye contact he looked up at the other cars that were leaving the car park.

"What do I want? Mmm, I love that question- I want your position, and I can only get that once you're out of here." Lord, it's been just your second day, and the man here is trying his best to get you out of your job. Why? Like he's already been paid well. "Jimin, not today, please -" "nuh uh, you stay here."

He pouted his index finger at the ground, showing his dominance with them and how he made his eye contact, his eyes so dark that you couldn't even see any light in them. "Jimin, I'm not in a mood to argu-" "So hear me out!" He spoke louder, making you flinch. He smirked at it and chuckled evil, looking up at the cement wall.

"Oh, Ms. Lee, you don't know what I'll do for the position. I'll do anything and everything to get it. And I mean it." The words came out of his mouth, teeth gritting at each letter, and he was dead serious about it. He's trying to scare you, and it's working. You got into the car without any hesitation, you can't stand him any longer, he looked like he would kill you alive. You, now officially, are a closer step to hating Park Jimin to death.

Day two, and it was fucked up.

when you got back to your apartment you removed those heels, threw your bag on your couch and immediately walked to the washroom. You removed your makeup and took a nice warm shower, still hearing Jimin's words in your head. He surely is crazy, crazy for this position, but there's no way you're giving up on it.

you weren't just given this job from the sky. You worked your ass off with part-time messy jobs, and now, finally, you got a full-time job that shines your inner talent. Fuck Jimin. You had no energy to watch TV or eat. God, Hoseok can eat so much! He forced you to eat with him. But he's a lovely guy, made you feel welcomed and all. You drifted off to sleep, and damn was that a good sleep.

-

You felt motivated to work today, and indeed, the day was going well. Rosè, the receptionist greeted you warmly, and of course Park Jimin had to bless your day on the first floor of the building. You discreetly ran away. His presence can literally ruin a good going day. You pressed level 31, the elevator stopping at a few levels, and employees walked in, greeting you with a bow, and you did too.

The elevator stopped at level 17, the door opening only to make eye contact with the CEO himself. Jeon Jungkook. His eyes met yours, and he immediately looked down at the floor, walking inside. You both could feel the tension building up, and it was suffocating because that night's visions always manage to pop up when he's around.

He gets them, too.

The lift began to get full, and he had to make more space for the employees to enter. He unintentionally grew closer to you, his arm rubbing against yours, and he sighed. You gulped and clutched your bag tighter. You've got no reason to feel this way, but you're more afraid. Afraid that people will notice this because that's the worst scenario you could imagine. As the elevator stopped at 24, a few employees left, leaving you with Jungkook and a handful of people. "Lee y/n, right?" A man with glasses who didn't look older than 22 spoke, holding a stack of papers in his hands.

You nodded, and then his smile widened. "I heard about your idea from a few employees. Guess what? it reminded me of my parents, too. My dad loves mulberry, and when I heard about your nature idea, I was surprised they didn't choose you." His words made your heart warm. People really spoke about your idea? For real?

"Thank you, um - there's always a next time." The boy nodded, and you smiled, bowing when he left at level 27. You couldn't hide that smile that kept getting wider and wider. You had to bite on your lower lip to refrain yourself from giving that extremely huge white smile.

Jungkook looked at you from the corner of his eyes, he obviously had distanced himself from you, leaving a meter gap. Seeing you hiding your smile had him scoff. The door opened, and Hoseok passed by. You immediately ran to him, forgetting that your CEO is just standing there watching you.

"Hoseok! Guess what?! "Woah woah, what is it cheesecake?" He joked, and you hit his arm. "What the hell is-" "cheesecake?" Jungkook whispered under his breath as the elevator door closed and had him all confused. Since when did Mr Jung call people by nicknames? 

next chapter ⇢

[celestie0]

hi friends, i won’t be posting or updating any of my works for an indefinite period n will be on hiatus from this blog as well.

i’ve unlisted kickoff & ihm on ao3 (haven’t deleted, they’ve just been made private) and i’ve unpinned my masterlist here on tumblr (again nothing’s been deleted so you could probably find the chapters if you searched my tags)

but the reason i did that is because i don’t want any new readers finding my works during my hiatus because i don’t want to potentially upset more people in the event that, during this hiatus, i decide that i would no longer like to write my fics

that would be an insanely sad decision to make. i put so much thought into my stories not because i am trying to make them entertaining, but it’s because they genuinely mean so much to me and are cathartic in ways i can’t describe. i have spent a great majority of my life self negating for the sake of others, and so writing was just a form of expression where i could talk about all the things i’ve suppressed over the years - anxiety, career stress, financial stress, avoidance, depression, loss, coming of age, navigating love, etc

but lately, and i do think it’s been a build up of just some careless words from a handful of people over the months, i find myself steering towards a practice of writing that is no longer asking the question “how can i put as much of myself in this piece as possible?” but rather “how can i make sure people won’t criticize this…i feel awful that it doesn’t have what they want it to have…other creators are doing xyz, should i be doing that too?…i’m just scared to share this”

not exactly sure when that shift in headspace began, but as of right now, it’s as strong as ever. and i understand that those questions may seem irrational, and i just have to try to not focus on the feeling, n i wish i was someone that could compartmentalize those thoughts better, but here’s the thing — the whole reason i started expressing myself through writing in the first place was because i’ve spent my whole life compartmentalizing. it would feel so ironic & untrue to the lessons i’ve learned in this journey if i just chose to “suck this up” and continue pushing forward until i reach a point of burnout simply because i don’t want to upset anyone

i’m really sorry i couldn’t focus on the positive. especially with all the insane n incredible amount of love n support i’ve received for my works. i’ve said this time n time again but when i started posting kickoff to ao3 back in january of this year, i had NO idea it would be this loved by so many people…i was like ok can’t wait to interact w these four readers for the rest of the year…and then BAM, i find myself fully sobbing after each chapter update because i was so touched by all the sweet n kind words. i don’t want this decision to come off in a way that makes it seems like i don’t love u guys sm or that i’m ungrateful — i’ve always taken pride in respecting my audience. even for a simple hobby, i try to put effort into my works. i proofread, i plan out, i edit in length, all because i am, well, for one, i’m a bit of a perfectionist LOL but also i think there’s a great deal of honor in respecting an audience that gives you their time n attention

but i already am struggling in my life to focus on the positive. medicine has been such an incredibly daunting career to pursue, i’m honestly only doing slightly better now because i’m just filled with relief that i got into med school to begin with lol it’s still surreal to me, so the stress has been kinda manageable so far on that sense of optimism, but dear god the shit i went through to get here…and the shit i know i still face ahead of me. i spend all of my serotonin on trying to stay positive in the face of my responsibilities. so all of this time i’ve spent trying to stay positive for the sake of my stories too has just left me with so much exhaustion — i just don’t see why posting my works should be anything less than fun and endlessly exciting when it’s a hobby that’s supposed to help me thru the actual brunt of life.

anyways, i’m getting a little carried away here. all this to say, i just need to take time away from posting my works so i can see writing as something for myself n not for others again. i don’t want the thoughts swimming in my head to be thoughts of anxiety over people potentially criticizing me n my creative decisions. i want the thoughts in my head to once again be positive, excited, and nurturing towards my stories. i don’t see how i can accomplish that at this point unless i start writing for myself once more, and not for others

i still have a great deal of passion to write, which is why i haven’t formally taken down my works. i anticipate that i may be able to come back in the future to share my writing again. but as of right now, i just want to heal the relationship that i have with this hobby, and i feel like that’s gotta happen in private (lmfao it sounds like im tryna freak my writing)

i’m sorry that i turned off my asks n my replies, i know so many of u care about me n want to support me n i just am beyond thankful. i don’t anticipate this is a forever goodbye, but i do just need some time rn away from all of this.

hope u all have a happy time!! and take care of yourselves :) much love

- ellie

[vidjauser-player-206]

Dae-ho x Pregnant F!Reader

Pairing: Dae-ho x F!Pregnant reader

Triggers: Squid game typical violence and death, brief mention of trafficking, mention of abusive baby daddy, Dae-ho is NOT the father, cursing

Tags: Pregnancy, fluff, 2 endings, 1 angsty ending, 1 good ending

Words: 3.2k

Read on Ao3!

Main blog/Art Commissions/Masterlist:

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BlueSky

I have a couple more chapters planned for this, and two endings. Possibly some bonus smut after this is all finished? : ) I've been on such a hype for this fella. I love him so much.

Also happy Valentines everyone!

CHAPTER ONE

The two of you met in the games. You were approximately 8 months pregnant, so close to popping out your child, but not quite there yet. The only reason you were in these stupid games was because you were desperate. Your baby daddy ran off shortly after you had told him about the baby, around your second month of pregnancy. You weren’t too surprised, however, what did surprise you was the fact that his loan sharks started lurking around your place. You had guessed that he had gone fully into hiding, and they sought out the first person they knew he was close to. 

One of the loan sharks had pressed you against the wall, threatening to do awful things to you if you didn’t get the money by the end of the month. He stared at your belly greedily as he said it. 

After that, you feared what would truly happen when the end of the month came. You weren’t sure how you were going to afford to pay such a big debt, but also your rent and impending bills that would come with all the baby related medical appointments you needed…

You knew your baby was a girl, and you feared the worst would happen once they found that out. 

Despite not knowing what you would be getting yourself into, you still found yourself playing Ddakji in the subway station on your way to a doctor’s appointment, which you ended up skipping after getting slapped a few times by the Recruiter, who wasn’t light on the slaps despite your obvious predicament weighing your stomach down. That card you held in your hands felt like your own hope and savior, so you had called and confirmed your information. 

Being drugged in the limo was scary, and what was even scarier was the fact that you woke up in a room of what felt like a thousand people, now in different clothing. Which meant that someone undressed you. This wasn’t where you thought you would wind up. The room only had bunk beds stretched nearly to the ceiling. You never thought that they could go that high. The walls were mostly blank, other than some childlike paintings. It reminded you of a pediatric waiting room but the doctors had forgotten the colorful paint, scaring the children⁠—and you⁠—rather than making them feel welcomed. You could almost smell the foul stench of bleached floors, making your nose crinkle as you got out of your bunk. At least the person who changed you had the decency to put you on a lower bunk. 

You avoided the people who emerged from the bunks, though when you met the eyes of a couple of them, they always fell down to your stomach with a surprised expression. 

You ignored them and proceeded through a big door to a wacky set of stairways that came straight out of a surreal painting, took your photo, and ended up on a field of sand. Once again, you felt like a kid, though rather out on the playing field, ready to play sports in Physical Education. The first game was…Red Light, Green Light? That threw you off. This felt too weird to believe that you were just playing kid’s games for money…What was the catch? 

It would be a whole lot worse than you thought, and your survival was only thanks to Player 388. The number burned in the back of your mind, becoming your lucky number at that moment. 

After the first gunshot and once everyone scattered⁠—being promptly shot once they moved even an inch⁠—Player 456 called for shorter players to get behind taller ones, claiming that the robot couldn’t see things behind the players. 

“Green light!”

The man in front of you turned and grabbed you by your shoulders. 

“What the hell⁠—” You cried and slammed your fists against his shoulders, afraid he was going to pull you in front of him and use you as some sort of human shield. 

“Get behind me.” He says firmly. 

Instead, his strong arms yanked you behind him, and you got a faceful of that number you would never forget. 388. He kept one hand behind him so he could keep his hands on you while the two of you ran. You kept his shirt balled in your fist but let go when you two stopped, fearing you might knock him over. 

“Red light!”

There were only a couple of gunshots. 

With each gunshot, Player 388 trembled, and you could feel through his grip that it was hard for him to sit still when he heard the gunshots. You couldn’t blame him though, you were trembling too. The two of you remained brave, especially him— for not only carrying himself, but you and your baby too. 

You couldn’t help but admire him from behind. A hero…your hero.

In the beginning, everyone only had five minutes to make it across the finish line, now it was down to one. You swore that you weren’t going to make it. Player 388 should have left you there,but he didn’t. 

There was cramping everywhere in your abdomen and below. Your baby was protesting against all the new movements you had avoided throughout your pregnancy. You pleaded quietly for her to stop kicking your bladder. 

“Green light!”

Everyone moved forward again. 

Soon, close to the finish line, a few players behind you lurched forward after tripping, knocking you in the same direction. Player 388 dug his heels into the ground, and it was like running straight into a stone wall. Your body and stomach were pressed right into him, almost intimately. 

“Red light!” The robot’s head spun around, eyes scanning furiously. 

The players who had knocked into you all stood right as the robot’s head moved. They weren’t so lucky, and you heard the gunshots. Thank God you were behind Player 388 because your head naturally creaked to the side as you peered at the bodies that had thumped behind you. You regretted looking immediately. You realized you moved and waited for another gunshot. Though, it never came. 

After what felt like their final minute was up, the robot’s head spun back toward the tree. “Green light!” 

“Come on!” Player 388 spun around, and for a second you saw his face. You could barely register it though, unable to process details in the heat of the moment. All you knew was that he was handsome and sweaty. 

Player 388 grabbed your elbow and you grabbed another handful of his shirt, the two of you booking it. 

Running across the finish line felt like you were running in slow motion, but you felt a wave of relief when you did. You were safe. You were alive. You and your baby made it. 

Your feet caught and tangled on the man’s and the two of you went down, though your fall was cushioned by his body. It didn’t stop the twinge of pain in your abdomen, however, and you feared that the fall might be the thing that does you in, until your mind focused back onto the playing field. 

Other players either made it across the finish lines themselves or they were promptly shot and killed. Your eyes were glued on the merciless scene, and your own pains were momentarily forgotten, until you broke yourself out of the spell. 

You looked down to your body and Player 388’s, tangled together on the ground. His hand was still on your elbow, and only in that second did he lighten his grip. There might be a bruise later on, but you didn’t care. He saved your life.. 

You looked at his face. His mouth was slightly agape, giving a far-off expression, like he wasn’t there anymore. His dark hair was swept back in a sweaty ponytail but strands of his hair were falling on his forehead. You had to resist the urge to reach up and brush it out of his face. You didn’t want to spook him so you kept your hands to yourself. 

There was one last gunshot, and you saw his face flinch, taking him out of his far-away expression and he met your eyes with his dark ones. 

His grip on your arm tightens. “Are you okay?” He asks softly, his eyes casting down to your stomach for only a second. His hand moved to rest on your upper arm. “Are you both okay?”

You cradle your belly and quickly nod. “Yes, thank you. You really saved my ass out there. I thought it was all a game, until…” You couldn’t say it out loud. Instead, you brought your hand to your mouth, fighting choked up tears. Everything was catching up to you, making you feel overwhelmed. You were sure he was feeling the same way. 

His fingers cupped the back of your neck, tugging you forward. You lean your forehead against his shoulder, and he moves his hand to your trembling shoulders to comfort you. You stayed there momentarily but finally pulled back to look at his face, to take in him fully. You were drawn to the sharp yet somehow soft lines of his face. His hair was dark and so were his eyes as they bore down into your soul, almost touching you in your heart in a way no one else’s had before. You were used to expressions of fury, or the scrunched up eyebrows of someone who was screaming at you. This face was different. It brought you comfort when you most needed it. 

You continued, forcing yourself to snap out of the trance this man had you under, “You could have left me out there when that man said for everyone to get into lines. You didn’t have to risk your life for mine.” Yet he did.

“What kind of man, let alone Marine, would I be if I left a mother and her unborn baby out in danger? A piece of shit…That’s the kind of man I would be. Here, let me help you up.”

Player 388 had to untangle your bodies before he could stand. He helped you up by pulling you up by your forearms, then stabilized you when you faltered.

You were about to thank him when the guards led everyone back to the exit. A lot of the other players didn’t hesitate and listened immediately, rushing for the exit. Player 388 wrapped an arm around your waist, hand resting against the edge of your pregnant belly. “Let’s go. I have a feeling we shouldn’t piss these guys off.”

“Yeah…They’re the ones with the guns.”

“Agreed.” He nods his head firmly. 

For once, you didn’t mind that a man’s hands were pulling you somewhere. You just wanted out of that damn arena more than anything. It was a bit awkward once you got to the stairs, so he moved behind you to help you up. Still…you had no complaints for now. You weren’t sure if you had enough mental or physical energy to support yourself at this point. You kept your hand on the edge of the stairs and the other on your stomach, pushing yourself beyond today.

“I think we’re close to the dormitory now, then you can rest.” Player 388 said close to your ear. 

“Thank god,” you said gratefully. 

You would have jumped for joy when you saw those big doors if you didn’t have a whole ass baby in your stomach.

“I’m never taking a bed for granted again…” You sighed. 

“You and me both, let’s get you sitting down…” Player 388 walked with you back to the bunks stairs. 

Looking around the room, you couldn’t be sure of the exact number, but you could tell that the crowd was thinned out by at least a hundred or so. Now, you felt like your swollen belly stuck out like a sore thumb. 

The entire atmosphere of the dormitory completely changed, it was worse than a hospital, you felt like you were in a prison. 

Player 388 interrupted your thoughts, “Do you want to stick with me?” He asked softly, “I think the more people we have, the better off we’re going to be…” He looked down at your stomach. He didn’t have to say it out loud, but you knew he was thinking about saying something about protecting the baby. 

As the two of you walked to the bed, you noticed how his arm felt large around your shoulders, he definitely had a lot of muscles. The pair of you looked like a couple, really. The way he was clinging to you probably gave others the impression that he put the baby in you. You didn’t know the man that well, but if he really was as sweet as he was acting right now, then you wouldn’t have let him become your ex. If you were one of the other players staring at you two, you would have thought, what kind of stupid man lets his wife join these games and what kind of stupid bitch would you be to put yourself in that situation too?

Wait, why were you even thinking of this?

Player 388 stared at you, expecting an answer but not rushing to get it out of you.

“...Yes.” You nod. “But I think I need to know your name first.”

The man nods in agreement. “Let’s get you seated first.”

You were touched he was so thoughtful about you and your baby’s wellbeing. 

Bringing you over to the lower bunk’s stairway, the man helped you waddle over and then sit. He shifts, sitting down on your left, his legs slightly apart as he sits. You knew that soon, all the pain and discomfort would catch up to you. For now, you savored the man’s sweet smiles. The sweetest one you had ever seen, especially from a man. 

“What’s your name?” You reminded him. 

Player 388 put a hand over his chest, giving his head a small bow. “I’m Kang Dae-ho.” He raises his hands and puts his fingers out in an exaggerated way, like he was a cat showing its claws. He directs it towards your belly, like he was giving the baby a little game of charades. Your stomach fluttered. 

No wait, that was the baby kicking. 

Gasping, you had to lean back and hold your stomach for a second. 

Dae-ho’s face fell and he looked down to your belly in concern, his hand coming out to touch it but letting it hover instead. “Are you okay⁠—?”

You nod, releasing a strained gasp. “Yeah…She just kicked me in the ribs.” You take his hovering hand and pressed it to your stomach, watching as his eyes widen even more. 

Dae-ho’s eyes lingered on your belly before lifting up to meet your eyes. His hand rubbed your belly up and down, feeling the small kicks against his palm. “You’re having a baby girl…? What’s her name?”

You smiled bashfully. “She doesn’t have a name yet. I figured it would come to me once I see her face for the first time…Mine is…” You told him your name, the two basking in each other’s presence quietly, at least until the doors opened and pink guards with guns marched into the room. 

Something snapped in Dae-ho and immediately he took a protective position in front of you, his arm coming out to completely shield you as if he expected the guards to march right up to the two of you and shoot you specifically. They didn’t, rather, they stood at the opening of the door. There was one guard who stood at the front, a square mask on his face. There were a couple with triangles, instead of the square, with guns standing behind them. You admittedly cowered and gripped the back of Dae-ho’s shirt, feeling the pounding of your and your baby’s hearts like drums beating with one another. 

A vote. That’s what came next from the guards. It was O’s, those who wanted to stay, and X’s, those who wanted to return home. 

Dae-ho had calmed down, but remained by your side, comfortably rubbing your shoulder and sometimes your stomach. 

You thought you would have time to think about your vote, but the main guard announced that they would do it backwards, starting with Player 456. You looked down to the number on your shirt. You were Player 451. You were going to vote within just a few players. 

“Player 451.” 

Soon, you stood and with the help of Dae-ho, you were helped to your feet. He was perfectly willing to take you all the way down the line up to the buttons but you put your hand on his shoulder and shook your head. “I can do this…”

“Okay…” he responded hesitantly. 

You made your way down the line, both hands cradling your belly. The eyes of the other players glared like birds with claws ready to slice at you for picking the wrong choice. Soon you stood in front of the guard, the red and blue buttons appearing much larger than what you thought they would be. You looked to the red X, and then to the blue O. You raised your hand…and pressed O. The blue light shined on your face. 

It was impossible to look up to find Dae-ho in the crowd. You weren’t sure what his choice was going to be. You hadn’t mentioned it to each other. And if he was planning to pick X, then you probably fucked everything up. 

Without looking up, you made your way to the O side and stood next to a stranger, who gave you a side eye, but luckily said nothing. Dae-ho’s number wouldn’t be called for a while. 

When you finally heard it, you squeezed your eyes shut, refusing to look up as he made his way down and pressed a button. You heard the noise, but couldn’t register which button it was. 

You didn’t expect a warm and strong arm wrap around your shoulders, pressing you forward. You eyes shot open and you looked up, seeing Dae-ho smile down at you warmly. Your eyes moved down to his chest, and there you saw it…a Blue O patch…He had chosen to stay.

“You can’t get rid of me that easily…” The man mumbled and smiled reassuringly. He pulled you back into his chest, hugging you as tight as he could with your belly in the way. 

You smiled weakly and wrapped your hands behind his shoulder blades, unable to say anything. But you were happy and grateful for him. 

The two of you remained in each other’s arms until voting ended. Thank god, your ankles were about to explode. The guards dismissed themselves, leaving everyone to their own devices. 

“I need to go lay down, please. My body is about to explode.” You laughed weakly. 

“I’ve got ya…” Dae-ho guided you back to the beds with a hand on your lower back. He helped you climb into the first bed you could make it to, and pulled the blankets up to your chest. 

You grabbed at his sleeve before he could pull away. “I might need to go to the restroom later —but for now, I’m just going to sleep. Stay nearby?” At this point, your eyes were already drooping, but you couldn’t take your eyes off his goofy grin as he nodded. 

“Of course. I won’t leave you for a second. I want you to sleep and rest, For you and your baby…” He pressed his forehead to the top of your hair. You fell asleep in his arms, memorizing his warmth and smell.

[i-am-baechu]

✎ᝰ. I Feel Pretty ⁞ J. Jungkook

Summary: Jungkook takes Y/N to try on wedding dress as a surprise date

Caution: Profanities. smut warning. make outs, and Blowjob

Part of ‘ His Fan Girl universe

It's been awhile since Y/N saw Jungkook and she wouldn't say to him but she missed him. She knew he was busy with his release of his album and promoting but she missed her boyfriend fiancé. She still used to calling him her fiancé, it was crazy to think about it. She was just a normal person engaged to someone like Jungkook. It was just a crazy feeling that she didn't know how to explain.

Y/N was in her work office sending an email when there was a knock on the door. She glanced at her clock and raised her eyebrow, Who could that be? "Come in." When the door opened, she jumped out of her chair when she saw the familiar figure with roses in his hand, "Kookie.~"

He set the flowers on her cabinet and opened his arms, "Y/N."

She wrapped her arms around his waist as they went back and forth, "Jungkook, you didn't tell me you were coming over."

"I wanted to surprise you. It's been awhile since I've surprised you."

She pulled away and smiled at him, "I needed this surprise. I was getting bored at work if I'm being honest."

Jungkook raised his eyebrow at this, "You getting bored at work? That never happens."

She glanced at his eyebrow pricing and looked down at her shoes, "Anyone can get bored at something...it happens."

"Well, I'm here to save you."

She looked up with a confused look, "What are you talking about? I have two hours-"

"I already planned everything out." He grabbed her bag on the back of her door and glanced at her jacket on her chair, "Hurry and get your things. I have another surprise."

She shook her head at him but she couldn't stop the smile from forming, "Always full of surprises..."

The two quickly made their way through the private part of the office and headed to Jungkook's car. She sat in the car and looked at him with a curious look, "Where are we going?"

"That would ruined the surprise."

The car was filled with soft music as Y/N was drifting off and Jungkook couldn't help himself from glancing at her. She looked like an angel with the way sun hit her face. He was actually nervous about this date. Y/N has mentioned to him multiple times that she hated her body. Something he didn't understand. She was beautiful with every stretch mark or rolled, she was his everything. The most beautiful women (besides his mom).

He parked the car and shook her leg gently causing her to moan, "Babe, we're here."

Y/N wiped her eyes gently and let out a small yawn out, "That took a long time. Where are we?"

"For an appointment."

"An appointment?"

Here she was standing in the dressing room surround by white dresses that were so delicate that she was scared to touch them. Jungkook was right, this was a surprise. She touched each tulle skirt and she glanced at the mirror with a blank expression. She wasn't sure how she was feeling at the moment. It was a surreal moment to be in this room with fabric that symbolize love and so much more.

There was a knock on the door and a worker came in with one more dress with a smile, "I got a dress that I think you would like."

Y/N nodded her head with a nervous look, "I-I'm not looking for a dress...I guess-"

"Don't worry. He already told us that you just wanted to get a feel of wedding dresses. There's no pressure on picking out the right dress, have fun with it.

Y/N nodded her head and she looked at the dress with wide eyes, "Th-This is so pretty."

The worker smiled at this and nodded her head, "Jungkook picked this out for you. He thought you would like it."

Jungkook was wrong, she loved it. It was a embroidered tiered ballerina dress that had crystals throughout out the skirt. It was a simple dress but when you go closer to look, there was so much more. Her fingers gently touched the embroidered and looked up at the worker, "Can-Can I try it on? Also can you get Jungkook?"

The worker walked outside and smiled at Jungkook who was on his phone with a bored look, "Mr. Jeon."

He sat up and looked at the worker with a confused look, "Where's Y/N?"

"She wanted you to come inside the room."

"Is everything okay?"

"She wanted to show you the dress in private."

The worker took him into her room and when he opened the door, his world stopped. Y/N was smiling at herself in the mirror and she looked like she was having fun. Her fingers touching the edges of the skirt as she twirled in the mirror. She turned and saw Jungkook. She stopped twirling and smiled at him, "I feel pretty."

Jungkook closed the door and slowly walked towards her, "Say that again..."

She looked down at her socks and then back at him with a soft smile, "I feel pretty."

He slowly walked towards her and she stood there with a smile that screamed pure happiness. She looked up at him and he couldn't help myself with her innocent eyes. He leaned down and placed his lips on hers causing her eyes widened but she accepted the kiss. He slowly walked back to the mirror and picked her off from the ground. She wrapped her legs around his waist and let out a small moan when he kissed her neck, "Jung-Jungkook, we can't do this."

"I just want to focus on you. It will be quick." He gripped her ass through the dress and she bit her lip to stop her moan, "My wife feels pretty and I need her to remember this feeling."

He went back to her lips and she wrapped her arms around his neck. He couldn't stop himself, seeing her in this dress was making him go crazy. This was his future wife. No one told him that he would experience this feeling but he was glad he was figuring it out with Y/N.

He finally moved away from Y/N and he wished he had a camera. Her lips were shinning under the light of the dressing room and she was out of breathe, everything about this was perfect. He pushed some hair away from her face and kissed her forehead, "You have to be quiet."

"I-I...I can do that."

"Just pull my hair if you get uncomfortable."

He went on his knees and went under the skirt with a smirk on his lips. He pulled down the white cotton and was met with the wet mess that he created. He leaned forward and started sucking at her clit. Y/N leaned her head against the glass as she let out a small moan, "Jung-Jungkook."

He gripped her ass as he was sucking and licking her pussy, it was as if he was having his last meal. She gripped his hair as he continued, "W-We need to stop Jungkook. I-I can't get this dress dirty."

He lifted the skirt higher and blew on her warm hole making her shudder at the feeling, "Hold the skirt higher."

She nodded her head and now she was completely bare for anyone to see. Usually she would feel embarrassed but at this moment she couldn't care who saw her. She spread her legs apart and Jungkook couldn't help but smirk at her movement. He brought his right hand up and two fingers entered her as she shuddered at the feeling. He looked up at her and he didn't even notice that she took her scrunchie out of her hair and put it in her mouth. It was hot.

He moved his fingers at recored speed as his tongue continued to tease her clit. She felt her whole body get hot and the scrunchie fell from her mouth as she let out a louder moan, "Jung-Jungkook I'm about to come-Oh my g-god."

He took this as a sign and gently bit her clit making her eyes widen at the sudden joyable pain. Jungkook continued to do what he was doing but he was shocked to see Y/N like this. His only ever made her squirt once and he wasn't sure how he did that in the first place. He sucked all of the juice that he could suck up, this was everything he wanted.

Her knees buckled and he quickly moved to catch her. She was breathing heavily in his arms and Jungkook kissed the side of her head, "Baby, are you okay?"

She wrapped her arms around his neck and gave him a tired smile, "I-I'm o-okay."

He glanced down at the dress and smirked, "The dress is dry."

She let out a laugh and shook her head, "What came over you?"

"Seeing you in a wedding dress, I just can't wait to marry you Y/N."

They both locked eyes and they leaned forward for a quick kiss. She looked at the door and looked at him, "Jungkook, we need to leave...we can't get caught."

"He kissed her forehead, "We need to get dinner."

"I have to clean your mess."

Her face got red and she smacked his shoulder, "S-Shut up."

"Can you say it one more time?"

"Say what?"

He kissed her shoulder and smiled at her, "You know what."

"I feel pretty."

[ffleurist]

🕸️ 017 . threads of comfort

synopsis after encountering spider-man from a late-night walk, only to you share a conversation about love, self-worth, and moving on, with Spider-Man encouraging her to stop waiting for someone who doesn’t show up. wc 211

devastated by the fact that michael kaiser had ghosted you after the day you hanged out at your house, you tried to be understanding. after all, he was going through a lot, but you couldn’t help hoping he’d turn to you for comfort. walking along the sandy beach, the chilly wind whipping through your hair, you couldn’t shake the loneliness. it was late, and you decided it was time to head home.

as you walked towards the bus stop, you were suddenly confronted by two imposing men, their builds intimidating enough to make you feel small and powerless. your heart raced as you realised you were completely alone on the beach. was this it? were you about to be robbed?

fear gripped you, and you cursed yourself for not heeding your friend’s advice to head home earlier. the men finally noticed you, and with a menacing step in your direction, panic set in. you turned and ran as fast as you could, only to trip over your own shoelaces. the men caught up to you quickly, and before you could react, you felt a firm hand cover your eyes. you heard thuds in the distance, the unmistakable sound of punches landing.

as he removed his hands from your eyes, you blinked, still in a daze. the air around you felt charged, and your heart was still pounding in your chest. the man in the red and blue suit was standing just a few feet away, hands raised in a non-threatening

“hey, are you okay? don’t worry, i’m not here to hurt you," he said, his voice surprisingly gentle, though there was a slight hint of nervousness in it.

you stared at him in disbelief. "spider-man? you saved me? thank you, i didn’t know what would’ve happened to me if you weren’t there. i was so terrified.” you started crying.

he panicked slightly. "hey, hey, don’t cry, okay? they can’t hurt you anymore, see? what’s a beautiful lady like you doing out here anyway? it’s not safe."

"guess you scared them off for me," you replied, still catching your breath. "i was just getting some fresh air."

his eyes brightened, as if a thought had just clicked. "say, are you afraid of heights?"

you shook your head, still trying to collect yourself, the adrenaline still pulsing through your veins. "no, not really."

"good, but you better hold on tight."

before you could process his words, spider-man gently scooped you up in his arms, surprising you with his strength. "wha—" you gasped, your hands instinctively gripping onto his suit.

"don’t worry, i’ve got you," he reassured you as he leapt, using the webbing to swing you both into the air.

you let out a small yelp of shock as you soared high above the streets, the wind rushing past your face. the world below you suddenly seemed so small.

"spider-man what are you—" you started, but he was already weaving through the buildings, moving with a fluid, graceful motion that made it look effortless.

"you said you needed fresh air, right?" he said with a grin in his voice.

this was unlike anything you’d ever experienced. and despite the shock, a part of you felt exhilarated, your heart racing in a way that had nothing to do with fear.

you glanced at him, trying to make sense of it all. "this is insane."

he chuckled. "you think? you should see it from my point of view." he tilted his head slightly, looking down at you. "better now?"

the view of the city lights twinkling beneath you, the sound of your breath mingling with the rush of the wind, it felt surreal. you nodded, still in awe, though part of you couldn’t help but feel something else stir deep inside you.

maybe it was the danger, or maybe it was the way spider-man had seemed so effortlessly cool and composed, but you realized, for some reason, this was one night you’d never forget.

"yeah," you finally managed, a small smile tugging at the corner of your lips. "this is better."

he finally came to a stop at the tokyo bridge, gently setting you down. as you took in the view, you felt his hand subtly rest on your waist.

"i’ve got you," he said softly, his voice steady. "so, how’s the fresh air?"

you sighed, looking out at the scene before you. "it’s complicated. the guy i thought i liked, he ghosted me. i get it, though, but i just wanted to be there for him, you know? i guess i just wanted him to lean on me for a change.”

"well, i think you’re right to want him to lean on you. but you deserve someone who won’t make you wait around. you’ve got a lot to offer. trust me, anyone who doesn't see that is missing out."

“it’s just hard, you know? i really want to be there for him.” you then look at him, a bit more open than before, asking, "how do you stay so sure of yourself? it’s like you never doubt anything."

he chuckles softly, a confident grin spreading across his mask. "i don't have time to doubt, honestly. life moves fast, and if you're not sure of yourself, you're just holding yourself back. i learned a long time ago that you have to keep pushing”

he steps a little closer, his voice lowering slightly as he adds “so, tell me more about this guy of yours. what makes him so special that you’re willing to wait around?”

you hesitate for a moment, “he's complicated. he's not perfect, but i thought maybe we could figure it out together. but i don't know anymore. it feels like i’m always the one trying, and he’s not showing up the way i need him to."

your words hang in the air, a little uncertain but opening up to spider-man in a way you hadn’t expected.

he leans casually against the railing, “you know,” he says after a moment, his voice calm but firm, “it’s not your job to wait around for someone to figure out how they feel about you. especially if they keep leaving you in the dark. you deserve more than that.”

the words hit harder than you’d like to admit.

“why do you even care?” you ask

he shrugs, a playful lilt returning to his tone. “it’s kind of my job. saving people, listening to them when they need it. besides, you’ve got this way of looking out for everyone but yourself. someone should return the favour.”

“thanks,” you say with a steady voice.

“anytime,” he replies, stepping back and shooting you a crooked grin through his mask. “now, how about i swing you home? unless you feel like talking to more shady guys on the beach.”

you laugh, shaking your head. “i think i’ve had enough excitement for one night.”

series MASTERLIST

notes from lily ❦⋆ : talking about himself babshaha

TAGLIST

@mixolya @x3nafix @96jnie @tamashithe2nd @cookielovesbook-akie @yuiearyi @noomimi @stargirljas @jhsluvv @sof888a @livelaughloveshidou @swagkittybear @axquella @passw-0-rd @hwaassaa @bbladie @tofumiarchives @justanotherweeb666 @metaphorically-here @ravenbc @levihanmyotp @rybunnie @adrnmyknight @etherealrin @shosuki @90s-belladonna @wwastro @shr00mfairy @pan-kojiwa @pctterheadd @shumeow-h [tell me if i missed out anyone]

comments & reblogs appreciated!

© ffleurist 2025 do not plagiarise, translate, or rewrite my writings without my permission !

[03jyh23]

🌏⌇atlas┆song mingi

│part of goes to waste the series based on my favourite keshi songs

│listen here

rapper!mingi x non-celebrity!reader

│synopsis: in the heart of bustling seoul, you and mingi shared a luxurious penthouse apartment. despite the grandeur, loneliness consumed you as mingi's skyrocketing fame distanced him from the loving boyfriend you once knew.

│genre: lovers to strangers, angst

│trigger warnings:  heartbreak (obviously), mature language, mention of past trauma and pain

│words: 8.9 k

│playlist: empty box an album by song mingi, tracklist: after hours, too late, killing me (english), wait, paranoid, drunk, lonely heart, empty box (english)

│reminder: what you’re about to read is purely fiction, so let’s keep it separate from reality.

!minors do not interact!

— hi there! finally, here's the next part of goes to waste series. i had to take some time off after publishing 2soon (check it if you haven't yet), which was a truly personal piece, but now i'm back! atlas is very loosely inspired by the song; it's more about the vibe the song gave me than the actual lyrics. i also changed the original synopsis quite a bit because i honestly didn't feel like sticking with the first version. same as with 2soon, i spent some time creating a playlist, and if you do decide to listen, i hope you enjoy the songs i've chosen. oh! and if you read through my small author notes, then you're lucky because i can finally reveal that both the reaper (jongho) and right here (yeosang) will be published as a mini-series (but only after finishing finding our way back)!

love, monika ♡

i’d be so grateful for a little love – a tagged reblog or comment would truly make my day!

│taglist: @skittyneos │@kyeos4ng │ @vcutparis │@hoeforalbedo

You were sitting on a bed in the bedroom you shared with Mingi in your very own luxurious penthouse apartment in the bustling center of Seoul. It hasn't been long since you moved in here, but the vastness and elegance of the place made you feel even lonelier than ever. Mingi was out, performing at a sold-out arena show, and the glaring reality was that you weren't there to support him. It wasn't that you didn't want to attend; the painful truth was that he simply forgot to invite you—his girlfriend of the last 4 years, someone who had stood by his side through thick and thin. You looked at the floor, your eyes catching the sight of your suitcases and bags packed meticulously with your belongings, ready to move out of this once cherished home. The thing was, you couldn't quite leave without seeing Mingi one last time. Your heart ached at the thought of parting without a final goodbye, and it didn't let you go. You didn't know life without Mingi, and the prospect left you shit scared. The very thought of navigating through your days without his presence was enough to send shivers down your spine. However, you couldn't pretend any longer that Mingi hasn't changed. The boy you once fell in love with, who was caring, attentive, and always made you feel like the center of his universe, seemed to have vanished. In his place was someone distant, preoccupied, and seemingly indifferent to your feelings. You tried to rationalize his behavior, blaming it on the stress of his career and the constant pressure he was under, but deep down, you knew it was more than that. The connection you once shared felt like a distant memory, and the reality of who he had become was impossible to ignore. 

It all started not even a year ago. Mingi's song went viral on the internet, and he gained a massive following in a span of three days. From being an independent artist playing in clubs for maybe a couple of hundred fans, he went straight to signing a contract with a major company, making huge checks and selling out arenas in a span of minutes. The transformation was almost surreal. One day, you were cheering him on from small, dimly lit venues where you could see the sweat on his brow and the fire in his eyes as he performed. The next, he was being whisked away to luxurious studios and high-profile meetings with industry moguls. It felt like you were living in a dream—or a nightmare, depending on the moment. Suddenly, the simplicity of your shared life was replaced by a whirlwind of glitz and glamour. Mingi's phone never stopped buzzing with calls, texts, and notifications. Invitations to exclusive parties, collaborations with big names, and interviews with top media outlets flooded in. While his career skyrocketed, your relationship seemed to plummet into an abyss of neglect and misunderstanding. As he became more entrenched in his new world, you noticed changes in him. The boy who once couldn't wait to spend a quiet night in, watching movies with you was now constantly on the go, his calendar filled with events that didn't include you. The intimate conversations you used to have, were replaced by strained, hurried phone calls and text messages that felt more like obligations than genuine connections. Despite your best efforts to be supportive and understanding, the growing distance between you became an insurmountable chasm. Mingi's success had come at a steep price, and it felt like you were the one paying for it. The man you had known and loved for years was slowly slipping away, replaced by someone who seemed more like a stranger with each passing day. 

The night was getting later, and there was still no sign of Mingi. Maybe he wasn't planning to come back today; maybe he was too busy with his new rapper friends to even care to come back. You couldn't help but feel a pang of disappointment and frustration. You glanced at your phone, hoping for a message or a missed call, but there was nothing. Well, it wouldn't be the first time he had left you waiting, feeling like an afterthought in his increasingly busy life. You tried to occupy yourself, turning on the TV and flipping through channels, but nothing could distract you. The boy who once couldn't stand to be away from you was now someone who seemed to have forgotten you existed.  

With every passing minute, the reality of your situation became clearer. Mingi might not come back tonight, tomorrow, or even the day after that. He was out there, living his life, while you were stuck in a place that no longer felt like home. You still vividly remember your first day in this apartment; it was a momentous occasion. Mingi had received his significant check from the tour ticket sales, as well as the royalties, just a week passed since, and you were moving into the luxurious space. The excitement and anticipation were palpable as you both looked forward to starting this new chapter in your lives together. You left your one-bedroom apartment with a tingle of sadness, each corner filled with cherished memories of the life you had built together. However, the excitement and anticipation of creating a new home in a spacious, luxurious penthouse overshadowed any melancholy you felt. You both dreamed of this moment, envisioning a future filled with endless possibilities and new adventures. The thought of decorating the new place, hosting friends, and building new memories brought a sense of joy and hope. It was a new chapter, a fresh start, and despite the nostalgia for your old apartment, the promise of what lay ahead made the transition feel like the beginning of something wonderful. So, you never thought you would be leaving this place like this. Heartbroken. The walls that once echoed with laughter and joy now felt cold and distant. Every corner of the penthouse, which had been a symbol of Mingi’s dreams and aspirations, now seemed to mock your pain. The spacious rooms that once brought a sense of freedom now felt like a labyrinth of sorrow. You recalled the countless evenings spent planning your future together, the whispered promises of forever, and the dreams you had woven into the very fabric of this home. Now, those dreams lay shattered, scattered like fragile pieces of glass. The weight of your decision to leave pressed heavily on your chest, making it difficult to breathe. You never imagined that the place which once brought you so much happiness would be the same place you'd have to walk away from. 

You promised yourself you wouldn't wait longer than 3 AM, and as the hour approached, you picked up all your belongings and took them to the hallway. Each step felt heavier than the last, the weight of your decision sinking in deeper with every passing second. You glanced once again across the apartment, taking in the memories etched into every corner of the space that once felt like a loving home. With a heavy heart, you left your keys on the kitchen counter. As you put your shoes on, you paused for a moment, feeling the finality of your actions. You were ready to turn off the lights and walk out of the door, the silence of the apartment echoing your own sense of abandonment. Just as you reached for the switch, the doors opened with a soft creak that seemed to reverberate through the entire space. 

There stood Mingi, his face pale and eyes wide with a mixture of shock and disbelief, as if he had seen a ghost. His presence, so unexpected and surreal in that moment, made your heart skip a beat. The silence between you was deafening, filled with the weight of unspoken words and unresolved emotions. For a split second, neither of you moved, as if frozen in time. 

"What is going on?" he asked, his eyes finding your gaze as he swallowed hard. 

You took a deep breath, feeling a lump form in your throat. "I can't do this anymore," you replied, your voice trembling. 

His expression shifted from confusion to concern. "What do you mean? What are you talking about?" 

"I mean us, Mingi. I'm not even a part of your life anymore," you said, tears welling up in your eyes. "I packed my bags. I'm leaving." 

Mingi's eyes widened in shock, and he took a step closer. "Leaving? No baby, you can't just leave." 

You shook your head, feeling the weight of the decision pressing down on you. "I deserve more than this. I'm done. We're done," you said, almost out of breath, your voice trembling with a mix of anger and sorrow. 

Mingi's face contorted with emotion, his eyes pleading as he reached out to you. "Please, let's talk about this," he said, desperation lacing his voice. 

You looked at him, your heart breaking all over again. "It's too late, Mingi," you responded, trying to keep your resolve strong even as tears streamed down your face. "I'm so sick of pretending everything's alright, that you haven't changed," you continued, your frustration bubbling to the surface. 

Mingi stepped closer, his hands reaching for yours, desperation evident in his voice. "What are you talking about? I'm still the same, I’m still your boyfriend who would do anything for you." 

You took a deep breath, your voice trembling as you confronted him. "Are you even aware my birthday was a week ago and you haven't showed up to the party?" 

Mingi's face fell, a look of guilt and realization washing over him. "I... I didn't know. I'm so sorry," he stammered, but the damage was already done. 

"So no, Mingi, you are not the same. My boyfriend would show up to my birthday party, hell he would organize it himself. And you know what you did that night? You were sitting in a fucking club with your fellow rappers doing God knows what," you spat, the pain in your words cutting through the air. "My boyfriend loved me, he wanted to spend time with me, he cherished me, he would never leave without kissing me and telling me he loves me," you said, your voice cracking. "You are not him." 

Mingi's shoulders slumped, the weight of his actions finally seeming to hit him. "I messed up. I know I did, and I'm so sorry," he whispered, his voice cracking. 

‘’Sorry is not enough,’ you took a deep breath, your eyes filling with tears. "I'm so sick and tired of justifying your shitty behavior in front of my parents, our friends, and most definitely myself. Every time they ask me where you are or why you're not around, I must come up with excuses. It's exhausting, and honestly, I'm tired of lying for you." 

Mingi's eyes filled with tears, his voice breaking as he whispered, "I never wanted to let you down. I know I've been distant, but I never stopped loving you." 

You shook your head, "You don’t love me, Mingi. Actions speak louder than words, and your actions have clearly shown me where I stand in your life. When was the last time you took me out, huh? When was the last time you asked me how I was doing? When was the last time you made love to me, not just fucked me after your show, huh?" you demanded, each question hitting him like a blow. 

Mingi's face crumpled as he absorbed your words. "I didn't realize... I thought you understood how busy I've been," he mumbled, his voice tinged with regret. 

"Busy? We all have busy lives. But love means making time, no matter what," you said, wiping away your tears. "I can't keep waiting for you to remember that." 

Mingi's tears began to flow freely, his voice barely a whisper. "Please, don't go. I promise I'll change, I'll make things right," he pleaded, but you could see the doubt in his eyes. 

"Since you went viral, you haven't even taken me to your shows, to the afterparties. I don't know your new friends. Do they know about me?" you asked, your voice rising with each word. Mingi's hesitation spoke volumes, and you felt another crack in your already shattered heart. "That's what I thought," you murmured, more to yourself than to him. "If they don't know about me, then maybe you don't want them to. Maybe that's why it's easier for you to forget I exist." 

Mingi's eyes widened, realization dawning on him. "No, it's not like that," he tried to argue, but the conviction in his voice was gone. The silence between you grew heavier, filled with all the things left unsaid over the past months. 

"Tell me honestly, now. You're rapping about fucking bitches and maybe that's really what you're doing in those clubs, huh?" you spat, the accusation hanging heavily in the air. 

Mingi's face paled, his eyes wide with shock and hurt. "How could you even accuse me of that?" he asked, his voice trembling with a mixture of anger and pain. "I would never do something like that to you. You mean everything to me." he stammered, his voice barely above a whisper. He took a step closer, desperation in his eyes. "I swear, it's not what you think. Those lyrics, they're just part of the persona. They don't mean anything." 

You let out a bitter laugh, the sound echoing through the silent apartment. "Is that supposed to make me feel better? That it's all just an act? Because it doesn't. It just makes me feel like I don't even know who you are anymore," you retorted, your voice trembling with emotion. "You spend all your time with these people, living this life that I'm not a part of. How am I supposed to believe you when you say it's not real?" 

Mingi's shoulders slumped, the weight of your words pressing down on him. "I know I've made mistakes. I know I've been distant, but I never wanted to hurt you. I thought you understood how much pressure I'm under," he said, his voice cracking. 

"Being under pressure doesn't give you the right to treat me like I don't matter," you shot back, wiping away the tears from your rosy cheeks. "You used to make me feel like I was the most important person in the world. Now, I feel like I'm just another obligation, something you can push aside when it suits you." 

Mingi's eyes lit up with a sudden realization. "Please give me a moment, I know what will make you stay," he said, his voice filled with a newfound sense of urgency. Before you could respond, he turned and rushed towards the bedroom. You stood there, your heart pounding in your chest as you listened to the sounds of Mingi frantically ruffling through drawers and opening cabinets. The noise grew louder, punctuated by the occasional clatter of objects being moved aside. After what felt like an eternity, Mingi emerged from the bedroom, his face flushed and his breath heavy. Clutched tightly in his hand was a small, elegant box. He walked towards you, his eyes never leaving yours, and with shaking hands, he opened the box to reveal a stunning, custom-made Tiffany engagement ring. 

"This... this is what I was waiting for," he said, his voice trembling with emotion. "I wanted everything to be perfect before I asked you. I know I've messed up, but please, give me one more chance. I love you, and I want to spend the rest of my life with you." Tears welled up in his eyes as he held the ring out to you, his entire being pleading for forgiveness and another chance. You stared at the ring, the weight of the moment pressing down on you as you tried to process everything. Mingi took a deep breath and then, in one fluid motion, he dropped to one knee, holding the ring up towards you. His eyes were filled with desperation and hope, the tears streaming down his face reflecting the sincerity of his words. "Y/N please, marry me," he whispered, his voice breaking. "I know I've been distant, and I know I've hurt you, but I want to make it right. I want to spend the rest of my life making it up to you, showing you how much you mean to me. Please, give me another chance." You stood there, your heart pounding in your chest as you looked down at Mingi, the man you had loved for so long, now kneeling before you with a ring in his hand. The future you have always dreamed of was right there in front of you, and you cried harder at the sight. The ring, a symbol of the life you had envisioned together, glittered in the dim light of the penthouse. It was everything you had ever wanted, yet the weight of the disappointments and heartbreaks made it difficult to embrace. The tears streamed down your face, mixing with the raw emotions that had been building up inside you. You couldn't help but think of all the broken promises, the lonely nights, and the feeling of being forgotten. The ring was beautiful, but it couldn't erase the pain that had accumulated over time. 

Mingi kneeled there in front of you, his eyes filled with a mixture of hope and desperation, waiting for your response."Now we have enough money to book the beach venue you dreamed of," Mingi started, trying to control his own tears. "I will order you a custom dress from the designer you told me about, inspired by the Disney princess you loved since you were little," he added, his voice trembling with desperation. "And we will go to Belize for our honeymoon," he continued, his words coming out in a rush. "We will rent a whole house by the beach, just like you always wanted. Every morning, we'll wake up to the sound of the waves, and every night, we'll fall asleep under the stars. There won't be a single day when I won't prove to you how much I love you," Mingi's voice cracked, his eyes pleading. "Please, give me another chance. Please marry me. I promise I'll be the man you fell in love with, the one who would move heaven and earth just to see you smile. We’ll make new memories, beautiful ones that will overshadow all the pain I’ve put you through. I swear, I'll spend every moment making it up to you, showing you that my love is real and unwavering. So please, please say yes." The image he painted was truly everything you ever wanted, the plans you made together on countless nights, dreaming of a future filled with love and happiness. The beach venue, the custom dress, the honeymoon in Belize—all of it was exactly what you had envisioned. It was as if he had taken every whispered wish, every secret hope, and turned them into a tangible reality. His words, filled with desperation and promise, tugged at your heartstrings, making you yearn for the life you had once believed was possible. The thought of waking up to the sound of waves, falling asleep under the stars, and creating new, beautiful memories was almost too tempting to resist. In that moment, you saw a glimpse of the life you had always wanted. You closed your eyes, taking a deep breath as you tried to steady your racing heart. The weight of the moment felt almost suffocating, but you knew you had to make a choice. When you opened your eyes again, you looked at Mingi, your voice barely above a whisper, 

"I can't," you choked out, your voice barely above a whisper. The words felt like shards of glass slicing through the air. You saw the hope in Mingi's eyes flicker and fade, replaced by a look of utter devastation. His shoulders slumped as he dropped completely to the floor, the ring slipping from his grasp and falling to the floor with a loud echo. You heard him cry out in agony, and it broke your heart all over again, shattering it completely. For a moment, the silence was deafening, filled only with the sound of your ragged breaths and Mingi's soft sobs. You stood there, frozen, the weight of your decision pressing down on you like a physical force. Every fiber of your being wanted to rush to him, to take back the words and make everything alright, but you knew deep down that it was too late. 

Mingi's tears flowed freely now, his face a portrait of anguish. "Please, don't go," he pleaded, his voice raw with desperation. "I need you. I don't know what I'll do without you." 

"I'm so sorry, Mingi," you said, your voice trembling as you took a step back. "I wish things could be different, but I can't keep living like this." 

Mingi looked up at you, his eyes red and swollen with tears. "Please, don't leave me," he pleaded, his voice cracking with desperation. "I can't lose you. I'll do anything to make it right, I swear." 

You shook your head, "It's not about what you can do, Mingi. It's about what you haven't done." With a heavy heart, you turned towards the door, picking up your bags. Each step felt like a thousand, the weight of your decision making it almost unbearable to move. As you reached the door, you paused, looking back at Mingi one last time. The sight of him, broken and pleading, was almost too much to bear. "Goodbye, Mingi," you whispered, your voice barely audible. "I hope you come across something more than better, something that brings you true happiness and fulfillment. And I’m so sorry it’s not me." With those final words, you turned the knob and stepped out into the hallway, closing the door softly behind you. The echo of the door click reverberated through the empty penthouse, a stark reminder of what you were leaving behind. 

eight months later

It was a Saturday evening, and you were lying in your bed, scrolling through TV channels because apparently your best friend forgot to pay for your Netflix subscription. These past months, you were figuring your life out from the base. With your breakup, everything changed. You were now living in a small apartment, shared with two of your friends to make the rent cheaper. You hadn't saved up much while being with Mingi, mainly taking part-time jobs to be available whenever Mingi needed your help with his career—booking a venue, simply helping around with scanning tickets or delivering merch. You used to spend your days running errands and managing small tasks that kept his career afloat, and in return, he assured you that you didn't need to worry about your own income. Then, when the money came, he simply wouldn’t let you work, claiming what was his was yours, and he had more than enough. His generosity was comforting, but it also left you unprepared for the financial independence you now had to face. So apart from dealing with the heartbreak, you’ve also been struggling a bit with a reality without him. 

Now, as you lay in your small bedroom, you couldn't help but reflect on how drastically your life had shifted. The luxurious apartment you once shared with Mingi was now a distant memory, replaced by this compact space that you now called home. It was filled with laughter and companionship from your two friends, but it also served as a constant reminder of Mingi’s absence. 

The breakup had not only shattered your heart but also forced you to reevaluate your priorities and rebuild your life from scratch. Every day was a struggle to find your footing, to rediscover who you were without Mingi, and to carve out a path for yourself. Despite the challenges, you were slowly learning to embrace this new reality, one step at a time. 

After a long search, you finally stumbled upon a music award show where a band you liked was performing, and you found yourself intrigued. A few other performances passed; the MC announced they would reveal the winner for the Album of the Year in the rap category. Despite trying to ignore all updates about Mingi, you knew he had released a new album earlier this year, so seeing him being nominated didn’t surprise you. You couldn't help but feel a mix of emotions as his name was mentioned. You saw him through your TV screen, his hair now cut short and dyed a vibrant pink, a stark contrast to his previous look. His nose was pierced, and you must admit it made him look even hotter. He was wearing a sleek black blazer with nothing underneath, the simplicity of his outfit highlighting his confidence. He looked absolutely gorgeous, his features as handsome as ever, capturing your attention completely. You couldn’t help but smile, a wave of nostalgia and admiration washing over you. Your heart began to beat faster with the excitement and joy of seeing him again. 

And of course, Mingi won. You didn’t know exactly why, but you couldn’t help yourself—you clapped your hands enthusiastically. You were so incredibly proud of him and his achievement. With a wide smile on his face, he stood up from his seat, took a deep breath, and confidently hopped on stage. He walked over to the microphone, adjusted it to his height, and paused for a moment to gather his thoughts. "Thank you, everyone," Mingi began, his voice steady but filled with emotion. "This album means the world to me, and it wouldn't have been possible without the incredible team behind me and the fans who have supported me through everything." He paused, taking a deep breath before continuing. "I want to dedicate this award to someone very special to me, someone who was with me since my early days." Mingi's words hung in the air, and you felt a lump form in your throat. You knew he was talking about you. The memories of your time together, the sacrifices you made, and the dreams you shared all came rushing back. Despite the pain and heartbreak, a part of you was deeply touched by his acknowledgment. He continued, "I know I've made mistakes, and I've hurt the only person I have ever loved. But this album represents a journey of growth and redemption. It's about learning from those mistakes and becoming a better person." The audience applauded, but your mind was elsewhere, lost in the whirlwind of emotions Mingi's speech had stirred within you. You couldn't help but wonder if he truly had changed, if he had finally realized the impact of his actions. As the applause died down, Mingi took a step back, holding the award close to his chest. He looked directly into the camera, his eyes seemingly searching for yours through the screen. "You know," Mingi continues, "this special person told me that since I gained popularity, I’ve been only rapping about fucking bitches, and she hated that." Mingi smiled and looked at the award in his hands. "So, with this album, I came back to my roots, to lyrics that truly mattered and reflect who I am." As the applause echoed around him, Mingi took a deep breath, feeling the weight of his words and the emotions they carried. He remembered the countless nights he spent writing, the struggles he faced, and the moments of doubt. "I don’t know where she’s at now, what she’s doing," he paused, running a hand through his hair, his eyes filled with regret "I wanted to be a man and respect her decision to leave me, so I never reached out." His voice cracked, the weight of his words sinking in "Because the truth is she deserves way better than me." He swallowed hard, his eyes glistening with unshed tears "I don’t even know if this will reach her, but if it does, I just want her to know that I still, very much love her." A tear finally escaped, rolling down his cheek "And that life without her is shit." He took a deep breath, his voice barely a whisper. He glanced around, seeing familiar faces of fellow artists and friends who knew his story then he looked straight at the camera. "So, to my ex, to the one I prayed to end up with, thank you for breaking my heart. This one is for you." He raised his award and bowed. As he left the stage, you couldn't help but feel a surge of mixed emotions. The love you once shared was still there, buried beneath the pain and heartbreak, but his words made you wonder if there might still be a chance for redemption and healing. You sat there, stunned and overwhelmed, tears streaming down your face. The raw emotion in Mingi's speech had reopened old wounds, but it also made you question if there was a possibility for a new beginning. 

Too caught up in your thoughts, you didn't notice when the cameras started to broadcast live from backstage. An elegant reporter, dressed in a chic green dress, stood waiting with a microphone in hand. Her eyes sparkled with anticipation as she spotted Mingi approaching, clutching his award tightly. She greeted him with a warm smile and a nod, gesturing for him to join her on a plush, cream-colored couch set up for the interview. As Mingi took his seat next to her, the reporter's smile widened. "Congratulations, Mingi, on your incredible win tonight!" she began, her voice smooth and professional. "How does it feel to take home the Album of the Year award?" 

Mingi took a deep breath, trying to steady his emotions. "It feels surreal," he admitted, his voice slightly hoarse from the whirlwind of emotions he had experienced on stage. "This album was a labor of love and a journey of self-discovery. Winning this award means the world to me." 

The reporter nodded; her expression empathetic. "You've mentioned that this album, Empty Box, holds a lot of personal significance. Can you tell us more about the inspiration behind it?" 

"The title of the album, Empty Box, symbolizes a metaphorical space where I have placed all the love I couldn’t give, oh god I hate to call her that but, to my ex-girlfriend." Mingi's eyes welled up with tears, and he swallowed hard. "It encompasses not just the love, but also our unfulfilled dreams, the cherished memories we created together, and the mistakes we made along the way." He paused, taking a moment to gather his thoughts, his emotions visibly overwhelming him. This album reflects my journey, regrets, and lessons I've learned. Each song is a chapter of that story, a piece of my heart that I hope resonates with those who listen." He took a deep breath, his voice cracking as he continued, "I wanted to create something that speaks to the pain of losing someone you love, the guilt of not being able to give them what they deserve, and the hope that maybe, just maybe, we can all find a way to heal from our past mistakes." Mingi's eyes were filled with a mix of sorrow and determination as he spoke, his words carrying the weight of his emotions. He looked directly into the camera, his eyes searching for a connection with those who might be watching. "To anyone out there who feels like they've messed up, like they've lost their way, I want you to know that you're not alone. We all make mistakes, we all have regrets, but that doesn't mean we can't find a way to move forward. This album is my way of reaching out, of saying that it's okay to feel broken, it's okay to struggle, but it's also okay to hope for a better tomorrow." 

The reporter nodded, her eyes reflecting the depth of Mingi's words. "Thank you for sharing such a personal journey with us, Mingi. Your honesty and vulnerability are truly inspiring." She paused for a moment, letting his words resonate with the audience. "What's next for you? Are there any upcoming projects or plans you'd like to share?" 

Mingi took a deep breath, a small smile breaking through his tear-streaked face. "Right now, I just want to take some time to reflect and reconnect with myself. But I promise, there's more music to come, and I hope to continue growing both as an artist and as a person." 

The reporter's eyes sparkled with curiosity as she leaned in slightly. "Is this album some type of closure for you? Are you ready to go out there and find love again? I bet there's plenty of girls, or guys who would die to have a chance with you." 

Mingi took a moment to reflect, his eyes distant. "In many ways, this album has been therapeutic for me. It's allowed me to process my emotions and come to terms with my past. As for finding love again, I think it's important for me to focus on healing and personal growth first. Love is a beautiful thing, but it requires a strong foundation." 

The reporter nodded, her smile warm and understanding. "Thank you for your honesty, Mingi. Your journey is truly inspiring, and I'm sure your fans appreciate your openness." 

Mingi smiled back, a glimmer of hope in his eyes. "Thank you. I'm grateful for the support." With that, the interview concluded, and Mingi stood up, shaking the reporter's hand before walking away. As the camera panned out, you turned off the TV, your mind racing with thoughts and emotions. And you knew you needed to see him again. You've been staying strong since you left him, but now, the wall crashed down and you couldn't stop your racing heart, you couldn't prioritize your mind screaming at you not to do it. The memories of your time together flooded back with an overwhelming force, each one more vivid than the last. The late-night conversations, the shared dreams, the laughter, and even the fights—they all played in your mind like an old movie reel. Despite the pain and the heartbreak, you couldn't deny the love you still felt for him, a love that had been buried but never truly extinguished. Your emotions were a tangled mess, a mix of longing, fear, hope, and regret. You thought about the life you once envisioned with him, the future that seemed so bright and full of promise. Would it still be possible? Could you find a way to rebuild what was broken, to heal the wounds that had festered for so long? As you sat there, your heart pounding in your chest, you knew that you couldn't ignore these feelings. It was as if something was pushing you towards him, giving you a nudge to take a step towards reconciliation. The thought of seeing him again both terrified and excited you, but you knew that you had to follow your heart. With trembling hands, you picked up your phone and stared at the screen, your mind racing with a thousand thoughts. Should you call him? Text him? Show up at his door? You took a deep breath, trying to steady your nerves, and made your decision. You were going to see him. 

You run to your closet, your heart racing with anticipation and anxiety. You put on a hoodie as the autumn air was getting colder, layered a denim jacket on top for extra warmth, and decided to go. Living on the opposite side of the city now, getting to Mingi's place would take more than an hour, but you didn't mind the long journey. As you left your room, one of your roommates looked at you, her eyes filled with curiosity. 

"So, I guess you heard the speech?" she asked, a knowing smile playing on her lips. You could feel the pride welling up inside you, making you even more determined to reach Mingi and share your feelings with him. 

"Yeah, I did," you replied, your voice trembling with emotion. "I need to see him." 

"Honey, I know you want to, but don't forget why you left him in the first place," she said gently, her eyes filled with concern. "You were heartbroken and exhausted. It took so much strength for you to walk away and start rebuilding your life." She paused, her expression softening. "I understand that his speech stirred up a lot of emotions, but please, think carefully about this. Remember all the nights you cried yourself to sleep, all the broken promises. Just don't lose sight of why you made the decision to leave. You deserve to be happy and to find someone who truly values and respects you." 

You nodded, taking her words to heart. "I know, and I won't forget. But I need to know if things can be different now. It's just, I am so proud of him, and I just wish he knew that" you whispered to your roommate, your voice filled with a mix of hope and determination. Your roommate, who had been silently listening, came closer, her eyes reflecting concern and empathy. "I know we've been through so much, and the pain was unbearable at times. But seeing him up there, pouring his heart out, made me realize that a part of me still cares deeply for him. I can't ignore these feelings. I spent so many nights crying myself to sleep, feeling hurt and abandoned, but maybe he's changed. Maybe he's truly learned from his mistakes. I need to see for myself if there's a chance for us to rebuild what we once had, to heal together and find a way back to each other." 

Your friend reached out, gently squeezing your hand, her touch offering a silent reassurance. Her eyes softened as she spoke, "I understand why you feel this way. It's not easy to let go of someone you love, especially when there's still a part of you that believes in him. But you need to be sure that he's really changed, that he's willing to put in the effort to make things right this time." 

You nodded, feeling a lump form in your throat. "I just wish he understood that despite everything, I don't hold any grudges. I want him to know that I forgive him and that I'm willing to give him another chance if he's ready to make things right." Your voice trembled slightly, the weight of your emotions making it difficult to speak. 

Your roommate gave you a warm, encouraging smile. "You have a big heart, and it's clear that you still care about him deeply. Just make sure you protect yourself too. If he's really changed, he'll show you through his actions, not just words. Take it one step at a time and trust your instincts. You deserve to be happy, and if giving him another chance feels right to you, then follow your heart." Her words offered a sense of comfort and clarity, helping to ease the turmoil inside you. You took a deep breath, feeling a renewed sense of hope. 

"Thank you," you said, your voice filled with gratitude. "I need to do this for myself, to know if there's still a chance for us." With that, you hugged your best friend and stepped out into the autumn night. 

The journey to Mingi's place felt like an eternity, each passing moment filled with a mixture of anticipation and fear. As the bus drew closer to his building, you couldn't help but feel a surge of doubt. What if this was a mistake? What if you were setting yourself up for more heartache? But the memory of Mingi's heartfelt speech and the love you still felt for him pushed you forward. 

When you finally arrived, you stood outside his door, taking a deep breath to steady your nerves. With a trembling hand, you knocked, the sound echoing through the hallway. To your surprise, the door is opened by an elderly man, dressed in an elegant suit. His eyes widen in surprise as he sees you standing there. "Good evening, sir," you say hesitantly, trying to mask your confusion. "I’m sorry for the late visit but I'm here to see Mingi. Is he already back?" The man's expression shifts from surprise to bewilderment. 

"I'm sorry," he replies, his voice carrying a hint of confusion. "But I believe you have the wrong address. Nobody by the name of Mingi lives here." He looks at you sympathetically, as if trying to help you figure out your mistake. 

Your heart sank, and you felt a wave of confusion wash over you. "But this was his address," you murmured, feeling lost. 

The elderly man gave you a kind smile, "I moved in here few months ago, maybe he was a previous owner of this apartment?" 

Your heart sank even further as you realized that Mingi had moved. "Thank you," you said softly, turning away from the door, feeling a mix of disappointment and confusion. As you walked back to the bus stop, the doubt began to creep in again. Maybe meeting with him would be a mistake? The universe seemed to be throwing obstacles in your path, as if trying to tell you something. Perhaps it was a sign that some things are better left in the past, that moving forward meant leaving certain chapters closed. You couldn't help but think about all the reasons you left in the first place, the pain and the heartbreak that led you to this very moment. Was it worth reopening old wounds for a chance that things might be different? As you boarded the bus, you decided to give it one last shot, you took your phone out. You scrolled through your contacts and found Mingi's number, your finger hovering over the call button. Taking a deep breath, you pressed it and held the phone to your ear, your heart pounding as it began to ring. After a few moments, you heard a familiar message on the other end, "The number you have dialed no longer exists." 

The automated message echoed in your ear, a stark reminder of the distance that now separated you from Mingi. You pulled the phone away, staring at the screen in disbelief. How could it be? You had been so certain that reaching out to him was the right thing to do, but now, it felt like the universe was conspiring against you. You tried calling again, but the same message played, confirming that Mingi's number had indeed been disconnected. A sense of finality washed over you, making the reality of the situation sink in even deeper. It felt as if a door had been firmly closed, leaving you standing on the outside, unable to reach the person you once held so dear. As you sat back on the bus, the city lights blurring past the window, you couldn't help but feel a mix of emotions. Disappointment, sadness, and a lingering sense of what could have been. The memories of your time together replayed in your mind, each one a bittersweet reminder of the love you had lost. Deep down, you knew that this might be the universe's way of telling you to let go, to move forward with your life. With a heavy heart, you put your phone away and leaned back in your seat, taking a deep breath. As the bus continued its route, you gazed out at the city, the lights flickering like distant stars.  

six months later

You just started your shift; the day was going to be long and tiring. With holidays fast approaching, people were buzzing to buy new goods. You were working as a manager in one of the luxury shopping centers, a position that demanded a great deal of patience and resilience. The opulence of the surroundings was a stark contrast to the stress that came with the job. The elegant displays and high-end brands attracted a clientele that was demanding and often indifferent to the staff's efforts. Managing a team in such an environment was no small feat. You had to ensure that everything ran smoothly, from inventory management to customer service. The rich customers, with their endless requests and high expectations, often tested the limits of your endurance. They seemed to suck the life out of you, leaving you drained by the end of the day. Yet, you couldn't afford to show any signs of fatigue. Your role required you to maintain a calm and composed demeanor, addressing complaints with a smile and ensuring that every shopper left satisfied. The holiday season only amplified the challenges. The influx of customers meant longer hours and heightened pressure. Each day felt like a marathon, with waves of shoppers flooding in, eager to make their purchases. The store was a hive of activity, with sales associates rushing to assist customers, restock shelves, and manage transactions. Amidst the chaos, you had to keep a watchful eye, ready to step in whenever issues arose. 

You were on your way to the staff area to take a break for lunch, feeling exhausted from the busy morning shift. The holiday rush had turned the shopping center into a whirlwind of activity, and you were grateful for a brief break. Just as you were about to reach the staff area, one of your co-workers called out your name. You rolled your eyes, already anticipating another request or issue that needed your immediate attention. With a deep breath, you turned to face her, trying to mask your frustration with a polite smile. 

"I'm really sorry to bother you, but we have a situation that requires your expertise. There's a particularly demanding customer, and the supervisor has tried everything but just can't seem to handle it. She asked me to find you because we really need your help with this. Would you mind stepping in to assist? I know you're on your way to lunch, but it would mean a lot to us." 

You sighed internally, knowing that this was part of the job. "Alright, lead the way," you replied, forcing a reassuring smile. Following your co-worker, you mentally prepared yourself for yet another challenging interaction, hoping that it wouldn't take too long so you could finally enjoy your much-needed break. 

She led you to one of the private dressing rooms. From a distance, you could hear a female voice demanding something from her, you supposed, boyfriend. "Oh baby, what do you think about this one?" you heard as you approached the door. Your heart skipped a beat when you recognized the voice that responded—it was Mingi. You stopped in your tracks, your mind racing. The reality of seeing him again, and with someone new, hit you like a ton of bricks. But you took a deep breath, steadied yourself, and pushed forward, opening the door to the dressing room. Inside, you saw Mingi standing next to a woman who was examining herself in the mirror, holding up an elegant dress. The room was filled with an awkward tension as Mingi's eyes met yours. For a moment, time seemed to stand still, the memories of your past flooding back with a vivid intensity. 

Mingi's expression shifted from surprise to a mix of emotions—confusion, regret, and perhaps a hint of longing. The woman, oblivious to the charged atmosphere, continued to admire herself in the mirror, adjusting the dress and waiting for Mingi's opinion. 

You felt like the air was taken out of your lungs. He was here, standing before you, after so much time had passed. Memories of your time together flooded back, each one more vivid and overwhelming than the last. You had to swallow hard and clench your fist to keep the act up, to maintain your composure in front of him and his new girlfriend. The mix of emotions inside you—shock, longing, regret—threatened to break through, but you knew you had to stay professional. This was your job, your life now, and you couldn't let the past disrupt it. "Excuse me madam, I’m a manager here," you said, your voice steady despite the turmoil inside. "Is there anything I can assist you with?" 

"Oh yes, we've been looking forward to buying the limited-edition shoes from the new collection," she said, her eyes lighting up with excitement. 

You took a deep breath at her words, trying to maintain your professionalism. "I'm really sorry to inform you about this, as my coworker already told you, madam, the shoes I believe you are referring to are only available for special order." 

Her enthusiasm faltered slightly, replaced by a look of disappointment. "Special order? Is there any way we can place one now?" 

"Unfortunately, the special-order period for those shoes has already ended," you explained gently. "They were available for a limited time, and we are currently out of stock. However, we do have a selection of other exclusive items that might interest you." 

You caught Mingi's eyes boring into you, his face pale and expression frozen. He stood still, as if rooted to the spot, and he seemed to not even breathe. The intensity of his gaze sent a wave of emotions crashing over you, each one more overwhelming than the last. You felt your eyes watering, a rush of emotions threatening to spill over. You blinked quickly, trying to get rid of the tears and maintain your composure. This was neither the time nor the place to let your feelings show, but the sight of him, so close yet so distant, made it nearly impossible to hold back the tide of emotions. 

The girl in front of you sighed, clearly disheartened by the news. Mingi, sensing her disappointment, placed a comforting hand on her shoulder. "It's all right," he said softly. "Let's take a look at what else they have. I'm sure you can find something you'll love." 

She turned to you with a sharp expression, her tone shifting to one of impatience. "Do you even know who my boyfriend is?’’ 

You swallowed hard, forcing a polite smile despite the tension. "Yes, madam, I'm well aware. Please allow me to show you some other exclusive items that might catch your interest."  

"Baby, won't you do something about it?" She once again turned to Mingi, her voice carrying a hint of frustration, but his eyes never left yours, the unspoken words hanging heavily in the air between you. 

Mingi shifted uncomfortably, his eyes meeting his girlfriend for a brief moment before he turned to you again. "I'll see what I can do," he said softly, trying to soothe her. 

You took a deep breath, gathering your professionalism. "As I mentioned earlier, the special-order period has ended, and we are out of stock for the limited-edition shoes. However, if you'd like, I can take your contact information and notify you if any new limited editions become available in the future." 

The woman sighed, clearly not satisfied, but nodded reluctantly. "Fine, let's do that then." She handed you her information, and you quickly jotted it down, aware of Mingi's gaze still lingering on you. 

"Thank you for your understanding," you said, handing back her details. "Is there anything else I can assist you with today?" 

She shook her head, her disappointment evident. "No, that's all. Come on, baby, let's go." As they turned to leave, Mingi hesitated for a moment, his eyes locking with yours one last time. You could see the unspoken words and the regret in his gaze, you silently hoped he would say something, anything. You gave him a small, professional nod, and without a word, he turned away, following his girlfriend out of the dressing room. Once they were gone, you let out a breath you hadn't realized you were holding. 

You realized that the man you loved was no more. Instead, you met with someone who wore his face, who had his voice. Someone who was a stranger. The warmth that once radiated from his eyes was now replaced by an unfamiliar coldness. It was as if time had reshaped him into a different person, one that you could no longer recognize. The memories of your past seemed like a cruel illusion, a reminder of what once was and what could never be again. You realized with a heavy heart that the essence of the man you fell in love with had faded, leaving behind a mere shadow of who he used to be. 

Don't talk to strangers, they say, or you might fall in love. And when that love fades, those familiar faces turn into strangers once more. The irony of it all stung deeply. The very person who once knew you inside and out had become an enigma, a puzzle with pieces that no longer fit. As you watched him walk away, hand in hand with someone new, you couldn't help but feel a profound sense of loss. The man you once knew, the man you once loved, was gone. And in his place stood a stranger who bore his likeness but none of the familiarity. 

The journey of love had taken you full circle, bringing you back to a place of solitude and reflection. The lessons learned were etched deeply into your soul, a testament to the transient nature of relationships. You couldn't help but wonder if you would ever recognize that familiar face again, or if he would forever remain a stranger, a fleeting memory in the tapestry of your life.