#god i love them so much i could be sick. daily | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

les4elliewilliams · 8 months ago

Text

With all my heart.

¡! daily click・palestine masterpost・do not buy any game from naughty dog, neil druckmann is a zionist・more daily clicks. ¡!

cw/wc: 10.9k (ik wtf) not proofread ; smut, fingering both r/e!receiving, oral (r!receiving), swearing, fluff, reader has a heart condition. jackson ellie x fem reader (💘)

a/n: I'm not really sure how I feel about this, lol (especially the smut part). I tried to do a lot of research about this type of heart issue to make it as accurate as possible, so if it's not, I'm sorry, I tried. ib one of those romantic movies where one of the characters is sick and has some rare condition (except that no one dies.)

also can we start romanticizing unconditional love and healthy relationships?

You knew you had won the lottery the moment you accidentally bumped into her in the hospital.

Your life has been full of challenges right from the beginning. You were born with a condition that affected your heartbeats, making it difficult for your heart to function normally. So you had to rely on a pacemaker to regulate your heartbeat. This condition has significantly impacted your life, making it hard for you to engage in activities that require physical exertion.

Long QT Syndrome, or LQTS, is a rare genetic condition that can mess up your heart's electrical system. It can cause your heartbeats to go wild, making you faint, have seizures, or even go into sudden cardiac arrest. To keep yourself safe, you needed to take your meds, live a certain way, and have a pacemaker — which you had implanted.

Living a normal life had always been tough for you, and it wasn't only the syndrome's physical symptoms that held you back, but also your parents' protectiveness. They worried a lot about your health, maybe a bit too much, leaving you with very little freedom to do anything. Even simple things like going to a party or hanging out with friends like a regular teenager seemed like a luxury you could never have. Although you understood that your parents were only trying to protect you, their overprotectiveness always made you feel suffocated and cut off from the world. You always felt like an alien who had just been dropped off on Earth; you knew nothing about anything. You've always had to rely on the stories and experiences of people around you, like your friends, to help you figure things out and feel like you had lived a little.

You have been homeschooled ever since you were a little kid. You didn't have many opportunities to participate in social activities and make friends. However, you did manage to meet two people who have remained your only friends to this day. You met them in the park when you were a kid, and to your luck, they stuck around. You often wonder if they stayed with you out of pity or because they genuinely liked spending time with you, but you were glad regardless; it was good to have someone to hang out with.

The memory of the day you met Ellie is still as vivid in your mind as it was when it happened. You had just finished your routine checkup at the hospital and were feeling a bit peckish. You made your way to the vending machine to grab a snack, suddenly feeling a wave of dizziness sweep over you. You hoped a quick snack would help, but fate seemed to have other plans in store for you that day. As you selected your snack, you watched in frustration as it got stuck in the vending machine. You tried everything you could to retrieve it, but it refused to budge. Just as you were about to give up, she appeared.

"Can I hel-" she started, but you were already turning around to leave, and just as you turned around to leave, you accidentally collided with her, causing your chest to hit hers. The impact triggered your pacemaker, causing it to beep loudly and incessantly. "Shit — I'm so sorry" she said as she gently grabbed your arm to steady you. "Oh my god, I'm sorry" you said simultaneously. The sound reverberated through the hospital walls, and your face heated up with embarrassment. You had never experienced anything like this before, not even when you bumped into walls at home.

The auburnette looked at you puzzled and asked, "Why're you beeping? Are you okay?" Worried green eyes scanning you, she was clearly taken aback by the unexpected beeping sound and she couldn't understand where it was coming from. You couldn't help but feel drawn to her despite the awkward introduction, she was the most beautiful girl you had ever seen.

Little did you know that this chance encounter would lead to a series of life-changing events.

You remember sitting in the seating area of the hospital, munching on a snack that she had generously gotten for you, you couldn't help but feel grateful for this girl's kindness. She was so funny and kind, cracking dumb puns every now and then. You admired how perfect and flawless she looked and to this day, she still tells you how mesmerized she was by you when she saw you for the first time. You both chatted away about everything and nothing, you noticed that she had a backpack with her. Being the curious person you are, you couldn't resist the urge to ask her what she was studying. She seemed delighted by your interest and started talking passionately about her field of study — art. The more she talked, the more intrigued you were. When your conversation came to an end, she mustered up the courage to ask for your number, a clear indication that she wanted to see you again; it took you by surprise but you happily obliged. Something about you captivated her attention, although you couldn't quite pinpoint what it was.

You never thought that you would have the chance to become friends with her, let alone her best friend. But somehow, again, fate had other plans for you. Your friendship with her started slowly but surely. She always asked you to hang out, and you couldn't help but say yes. She was so fun to be around, and it was impossible not to enjoy her company. She would come to your place and take you on small adventures, always promising to show you something new and exciting. This was especially important to you, as you had shared that your teenage years were quite dull and you didn't venture out of your house much. She always respected your limits, knowing that you had to be cautious with your heart condition. When she started staying at your place, you were surprised at how well she fit in with your family and friends. Your parents loved her and your friends thought she was great too. She was always taking care of you without being overbearing or suffocating. Her kindness and thoughtfulness made you feel valued and appreciated, and you couldn't help but fall for her. How could you not after all? She was perfect.

You shared every aspect of your life with her, and she reciprocated. You both had a shared love for reading, although she preferred a completely different genre from yours. She forced you to read her favorite Savage Starlight comics, and even though they weren't your cup of tea, you still enjoyed spending time with her while reading them, mostly because of how cute she sounded when she read every line out loud, effortlessly switching tones to match the different characters' voices and even adding sound effects to accentuate the narrative. She would often stay the night at your place and binge-read them with you. She loved to talk about her passions for space, dinosaurs, science, and art. She even showed you her drawings and journal, claiming she had never shown them to anyone. She even made a few drawings for you; it was adorable and impressive how she managed to capture every little detail of your face and put it on a piece of paper, she was a talented one. And, of course, you did the same with her — sharing your favorite comics/books with her, even convincing her to watch movies that she always claimed she hated. After watching them with you, she realized they weren't so bad after all. Not that she actually paid attention to the movie, her eyes solely focused on you.

Soon enough she was introducing you to her closest friends. She was convinced that you would love them, and she was totally right. One of her friends, Dina, was so much fun to be around, always full of energy and cracking jokes, she had a smile that could light up the whole room. Jesse, Dina's boyfriend, was just as funny as her, but he was a bit more serious and responsible than the rest of them. He always looked out for Dina and Ellie, but they never listened to him, which resulted in some pretty hilarious situations. The group had a really cool dynamic, and you loved how they made you feel welcome right from the start.

Your first kiss was a moment you could never forget, etched deeply into your memory. You both were deeply in love with each other, and it was evident in the way you looked at each other. Your glances filled with unspoken feelings and palpable tension that drove you crazy, hoping that you weren't the only one feeling that way. And then the moment finally arrived. You remember it was a hot summer day, and the air in your room was stifling despite the fan pointed at your face. You had a few strands of hair that fell loose out of your messy low ponytail, and they moved with the breeze from the fan. You were both on your bed; she was sitting criss-crossed before you, music playing in the background. She was drawing you in her journal, claiming that she needed more practice, which, after years, she revealed was just an excuse to draw you and spend more time with you; you were her favorite muse and she was just a loser who couldn't help but simp for you. Her cheeks were slightly pink due to the heat (or at least you thought), and her green concentrated eyes flickered back and forth from your face to her journal. When she started drawing your lips you unconsciously licked them, causing her eyes to dart up to look at you in the eyes.

She let out a soft sigh and mumbled under her breath, "m' almost done." A faint blush crept up her cheeks, though you couldn't quite explain why. Intrigued, you leaned over to get a glimpse of her work and asked, "Yeah? can I see?" She straightened up, holding the journal close to her chest, and replied with a slight huff, "Don't move, c'mon, stay still." You raised an eyebrow in amusement and retorted, "What? I'm not even moving." She didn't respond and instead furrowed her brows, focusing intently on her piece of art. The room fell silent, except for the sound of her pencil scratching against the paper.

The silence between you and her was palpable but not uncomfortable, yet you still decided to break it with a joke. "Knock knock," you said, a small smile forming on your face. Her eyes, which had been focused on her journal, darted up to meet yours once again. A playful smile appeared on her lips as she asked, "Who's there?" in a slightly sarcastic tone, giving you an eye roll. "Kiss," you replied, wiggling your brows. "Kiss who?" she played along, her eyes still fixed on you. "Me," you smiled awkwardly.

You knew it was a terrible joke, a very corny one, but you couldn't help it. After all, you didn't have much experience in these kinds of things — the universe only knew how long it took you to muster up the courage to make a silly little joke like that one. She chuckled dryly. "God, that's really bad," she commented, and you laughed along. "I know," you lowered your head and shook it slowly before looking up at her again. Both of you were smiling at each other, the tension between you growing. "So?" you quipped, trying to sound confident. "Do you want to?" you asked, your heart beating fast. "Oh shit, you were serious?" She suddenly sounded nervous, placing her somehow worn-out journal on her thighs as she looked at you in disbelief. You could tell she was surprised, and maybe a little flustered. "I'm sosorry — I didn't mean to make it awkward. Forget it. It's just I really like you a lot, but if you don't—" you started to say, trying to diffuse the tension, but her soft lips cut off your nervous rambling before you could finish your sentence. You felt a jolt of electricity shoot through your body as you kissed her back, your hands reaching up to cup her face. It was a moment you would never forget.

After your first kiss, you and Ellie went on a few dates together. It was during one of these dates that she took you to the park and asked you to be her girlfriend. The setting was perfect — you were having a lovely picnic date, the weather was just right, and a gentle breeze was blowing, caressing your skin and making it erupt in goosebumps as you sat close to the pond next to Ellie, throwing frozen peas to the ducks, their quacking filling the air with lively energy. The water was still and calm, the sun was shining, and the greenery around you was lush and vibrant. You felt a sense of warmth and happiness.

The auburnette sat beside you, leaning back as you fed the ducks in the pond. She wore a tender smile on her face, watching you with a gentle gaze. "I thought they only ever ate bread," she commented, breaking the peaceful silence between the two of you. You turned to her, your eyebrows raised in surprise. "If all they eat is bread, how will they survive in the wild without people tossing them bread all the time?" You replied with a hint of sarcasm. She scoffed and playfully nudged you. "Alright, smartass," she said, you nudged her back, both of you giggling like children. "I'm surprised a know-it-all nerd like you didn't know that," you teased her. "Nerd, huh? you actually like this nerd" she retorted teasingly, a mischievous glint in her eyes as she pointed at herself. "Do I, now?" you asked, raising an eyebrow at her. You couldn't take back your words after all, you did like her and you made sure to tell her, let's say... pretty often.

"Oh yeah, you do," she chuckled, nodding her head playfully. The two of you fell back into a comfortable silence, watching the ducks swim around in the pond. Suddenly, she turned to you, her expression serious. "Listen, I was thinking...you know how we're going out on dates and all," she started, her voice hesitant. Your head snapped to look at her; your heart was beating like crazy, not that it usually wasn't due to your syndrome, but it felt crazier than usual. You felt your palms start to sweat, and you grew more nervous by the second. "Yeah?" you prompted her, waiting for her to continue. "I guess what I'm trying to say is...we already act like a couple, so...will you be my girlfriend?" she finally gathered the courage to ask, her eyes locked on yours.

She seemed a bit tense, although you couldn't understand why. After all, you had told her multiple times before how much you liked her, and the two of you had been acting like a couple for quite some time now. You gave her a cheeky smile "Of course I want to," you said confidently, jumping right into her lap, feeling a sudden burst of excitement as you wrapped your arms around her.

Your love was pure and genuine, and it was evident from the little things you did for each other. She would leave little notes around your room or in your bag whenever you left for a second. These notes would remind you of her love for you, and you would return the gesture by hiding notes in her notebooks or in her journal. She would find them the next day during her classes, and it would brighten up her day.

"you look so pretty"

"are you a keyboard? cause you're just my type ;)"

"i love your freckles and i love you"

"hope you're having a good day :) ps. no more pickup lines im begging D:"

Your love was spontaneous and full of small handmade gifts, full of drawings from her part and origami from yours. Once in a while she'd even write and play songs for you, which had you smiling like an idiot cause how romantic was that?

She was always too caring, and she would make sure that you were feeling okay despite your heart disorder. She would accompany you to your doctor appointments and never leave your side, even though you would tell her she didn't need to be there. Unlike your parents who had always been overprotective, she was always looking out for you without being too much. Since you were the "sick" one between the two of you, she always had trouble accepting help from you, especially when she felt sick or was on her period. But you always insisted on taking care of her, making her chicken soup whenever she had a horrible cold, and ensuring that she took painkillers for her period cramps. You always made sure that she had enough pads and her favorite snacks or helped her through one of her panic attacks. Soon, she got used to it and would always be a whining mess when she was sick, hoping you would cuddle with her or baby her. She loved it more than she liked to admit.

On your anniversaries, you would surprise each other with flowers. The first time you had ever gotten her flowers (which was on your first date), she accepted them with teary eyes, saying that none of her ex-girlfriends had ever gotten her flowers or treated her like a woman; you loved the idea of being her first in something — you didn't get to be her first kiss or her first time in...that, but at least you were the first girlfriend who treated her right.

Your first time together was so special and intimate, it made you feel truly alive. The way she was so gentle and caring towards you left an indelible imprint on your heart. Her touch was like a soft breeze on a calm summer day, sending shivers down your spine, and being with her made you feel like you were safe from the rest of the world. You remember how her tender gaze made you feel like the most special and beautiful girl in the world, making your insecurities fade away. The way she held you close, with a warmth that engulfed you, made you feel comfortable in your own skin. It was your first time ever, and you confided in her about not having much experience. She reassured you that she would teach you, show you the way, and make you feel good, and good Lord, if she kept that promise.

It was a warm and peaceful afternoon, the sun was shining brightly outside, casting a warm glow into the room. You and your girlfriend were both lounging on her comfortable bed, enjoying each other's company in silence. While she was intently watching an action movie, you were lost in the pages of a captivating book. Your attentive eyes scanned each line and paragraph, immersing yourself in the story and oblivious to your surroundings. Unbeknownst to you, Ellie was growing increasingly impatient, huffing and puffing in an attempt to get your attention. Her huffs were airy at first, but as time went on, they became more forceful and pronounced, hoping to grab your attention and draw you away from your book.

Finally, after what seemed like an eternity to her, you turned your head gently towards her, lowering your book ever so slightly "What's wrong, Els?" you asked, concerned. "Put it down, I wanna cuddle." she responded, snatching the book out of your hand and placing it on her nightstand. You couldn't help but smile at her neediness, finding it adorable. "Fine," you sighed playfully, "Needy," you added under your breath, rolling your eyes at her. But she caught your comment, "What? Did you say somethin'?" You couldn't help but chuckle at her reaction as she pulled you on top of her and wrapped her arms around you. "Oh, nothing," you innocently replied.

"Comfy? Anything hurts?" she asked in a gentle tone as she rubbed your back in a slow and soothing motion, and you instantly relaxed under her touch. You took a deep breath, the tension in your muscles slowly fading away. "I'm okay, — m'comfy" you reassured her, feeling grateful for her care and existence in general. You hugged her tightly, burying your head in her chest. You could feel the warmth radiating from her, and the steady beats of her heart were a comforting sound.

You both cuddled up in silence, movie still playing softly in the background. As she kept rubbing your back, you gently scratched her arm something that usually relaxed her. After a little while, you felt compelled to express your feelings and whispered, "I love you." Even though you couldn't see her face, you could hear the smile in her voice when she replied, "Love you more, babe." You remained comfortably nestled in her chest, head buried in her grey hoodie. When you finally lifted your head from her chest, you gazed into her beautiful green eyes, already looking at you with so much affection that made your heart skip a beat. "You mean the world to me." you confessed, her eyes softened even more, and her heart swelled with love for you. She was the perfect girlfriend, always so loving and respectful, and you couldn't ask for anyone better. Finally, she leaned in and kissed you slowly and tenderly, a soft kiss that soon turned into something passionate and full of desire. She rolled on top, pinning you down with her weight, her hands roaming all over your body. She squeezed your waist, your hands cupping her freckled face to keep her close. She sighed quietly into the kiss, her fingers tugging at your tank top, and you knew what that meant — she wanted it off. And to confirm your thoughts, it was Ellie herself. She pulled away, lips slightly swollen and pink. Despite her best efforts, it was pretty evident that she was struggling to control her breathing as she panted uncontrollably, both because of the intense making out and her arousal growing by the second. Her face was flushed; she looked at you to gauge your reaction to her silent request, to which you responded with a little nod. "I'm ready," you uttered timidly, feeling your cheeks getting warmer. "Are you sure? We don't nee-" you cut her words off, repeating yourself, "I'm ready," this time sounding a bit more firm and confident of your choice. She mimicked the slight nod you gave her a few seconds ago, loose strands of auburn hair falling out of her little bun framing her face, her eyes never leaving yours.

She leaned in once again, giving you a peck on your moist lips before kissing your jawline and down to your neck. "Can i touch you?" she asked between damp kisses she left on your neck, "I don't know, can you?" she chuckled and began to suck purple marks on your soft skin as she slipped her hand underneath your tank top, brushing against your bare stomach before reaching her target — your tits. She cupped one of your tits, feeling the fabric of your bra. Your breath hitched, your cheeks were flushed and you were grateful she was too focused on your neck to notice "Can I take it off?" she questioned between cute smooches sounds, "Yeah," you breathed out, looking back into her eyes.

When she did, you were left in nothing but your bra, the visible scar near your shoulder making you feel uncomfortable, same with the implanted pacemaker under your skin, it was visible and you hoped it didn't gross her out. You couldn't help but look away from her, suddenly feeling ashamed for something you had no control over; it was something so small yet so significant for you.

You felt her index and middle finger gently pressing under your jawline to turn your head towards her and make you look into her eyes once again. Her voice was soft, almost like a whisper, as she spoke to you in such a tender tone. "Hey," she started softly, sensing your insecurity. "You're beautiful, alright?" Hearing those words from her sent chills all over your body, and you couldn't help but feel a sense of comfort wash over you. She continued, "We'll go slow. If something feels wrong, you let me know, okay?" Her words were reassuring, and you could feel her gentle touch on your face, holding it firmly so that you couldn't look away. You nodded in response to her words, suddenly feeling shy in front of your girlfriend.

After less than a few minutes, both of your clothes were off, thrown carelessly somewhere in the room. She still had her sport bra on and her underwear while you only had your underwear on. She trailed down, kissing all over your bare chest and breasts, and your scar, the one you were insecure about "smooch smooch..so pretty, smooch beautiful, my pretty girl" she kept murmuring under her breath causing goosebumps to rise all over your body, your nipples stood erect and hard, begging for some attention. She chuckled when she felt your sensible nub harden under her palm, "Didn't mean to make the ladies feel neglected" she joked, her voice was husky. She looked up at you with a cocky grin, and you felt your cheeks heat up even more; you chuckled awkwardly and rolled your eyes at her attempt to tease you about something you couldn't control. "Why are you always like this?" you rhetorically asked with a playful smirk, she shrugged and gave you a lopsided smile as she began to kiss your chest and attack your nipples with her mouth. "mmphh" you let out; a pathetic attempt to swallow a small moan when she sucked on one of your nipples and pinched the other. You bit down on your lip, and you could feel her smile at the small sound that came from you as she continued to work on your tits.

She trailed her hand down your abdomen, her fingers dancing around the waistband of your underwear teasingly. You couldn't deny the arousal building in your panties and at the pit of your stomach, you could feel the uncomfortable stickiness forming in your undies. So fucking wet. Leaving moist kisses all the way down to your belly button, then she stopped. She looked up at you, cheeks flushed just like yours and her eyes looking for a sign of your consent. She wanted to make sure you were completely comfortable with the way she was exploring your body, feeling it, and touching it. "I'm ready, Ellie. I promise" you repeated, your voice was soft and still timid.

"If you want me to stop, just tell me to, okay?" she told you once again and she didn't resume what she was doing until you gave her a light nod. She spread your legs, and her eyes were immediately drawn to the darker spot of your panties, you were so fucking wet. She hissed something under her breath that you couldn't quite catch. Seeing how wet she made you only served to boost her ego (as if she wasn't cocky already, the last thing this girl needed was a boost of her ego). "God, you're so wet," she couldn't help but voice her thoughts. "Thanks, Einstein, I haven't noticed," you responded with a hint of sarcasm, perhaps hoping to divert attention away from your embarrassment. She chuckled and an amused smile appeared on her dotted face, her brows jolting up. "Don't you give me the attitude" Before you could say anything back, her digits gently pressed on your still-clothed pussy, making your hips jerk away and a little moan escape your lips. Your face was on fire as you registered the lewd sound that accidentally left your lips. "That's what you get," A broad grin of pride spread across her face, and a fleeting pout that she found endearing appeared on your face "Oh, what? You mad at me, now?" she continued to taunt you, you let out a deep sigh and turned your gaze away.

"Shut up — god, why are you so annoying even in moments like this?" You covered your eyes with the sweaty palm of your hand as you spoke, feeling your cheeks flush with embarrassment. You could hear her giggle at your shyness, and it was evident that she enjoyed teasing you and playing with your emotions.

"C'mon pretty, m'just messin' with you." but she couldn't stop snickering to herself, finding your reactions quite funny. "Look at me," she commanded in a gentle tone, and you complied; you moved your hand away from your face and looked down at her, who was positioned between your spread thighs. "Want me to stop?" she questioned again, making you huff in response "Ellie. If you ask me that one more time, i swear—"

"Jesus, just making sure, no need to be so feisty about it" her fingers hooked under the waistband of your pink panties, tugging it down and freeing your dripping cunt. "Do I seriously make you this wet?" she was in disbelief, watching the string of precum that connected your pussy to your damp panties she had just pulled down.

"No, I was secretly thinking of Megan Fox, imagining her on top doing naughty things to me," you sarcastically retorted. She gasped dramatically, acting offended. Such a drama queen she was. "I consider that cheating." She played along, keeping that fake offended demeanor on. You laughed softly at her silly expression. "Okay, then, you caught me. Mentally cheating on you right now," you joked.

"I see how it is" You laughed again, and she scoffed, but she wasn't actually pissed at you.

She began kissing your inner thigh, the ache between your thighs becoming almost unbearable. "Els..." you had this whiny hint in your voice, growing visibly impatient, "Hm?" she hummed back, switching to your other thigh, going near your pussy but never actually touching you where you wanted her to. You moved your hips close to her face, but she moved away. "What do you want?" she asked teasingly, playing dumb. Fuck, you hated her guts for doing that. "You know what i want" she clicked her tongue under the roof of her mouth "Don't think I do" you sighed, frustration slowly creeping up inside you "Please?" your voice was delicate, almost as if you were begging her to let you try her fries or asking her to buy you something. She smirked, seeing you all horny and desperate yet still struggling with your words, too shy to tell her what you wanted directly. "Please what?" she encouraged you, that obnoxious cocky grin never leaving her face; she was making fun of you at this point. But you stayed quiet. "Can't read your mind princess, you gotta use your words."

"Touch me?...please?" your voice above a whisper but she heard you, you could tell she did from the satisfied expression casting over her features. "Sorry? Louder. Couldn't hear you" that cunt. You knew she did hear you and that she just wanted to hear it again so, you tried your best to push your shyness aside and please her. "Touch me, Ell-" But she was growing way too impatient, pressing her thumb on your clit, you let out a strangled moan and your hips jerked away at the sudden contact, but she pulled you closer again. Between the two of you, the more impatient one was probably her. Poor baby couldn't even let you say it twice, she was already torturing your aching nub, drawing small circles on it.

"Feeling good?" she questioned, her eyes studying your every reaction to her touch. She knew you felt good but still needed to hear it from you. "Yeah," you breathed out, your breathing becoming more elaborated. "Remember to breathe from your nose, baby. Don't want your heart to go crazy over a little excitement — if it gets too much, tell me." she thoughtfully said. "I'll be fine" you reassured her, grabbing her other hand to squeeze it.

In no time, her lips were on your clit, gently sucking on it. She moaned on it, almost as she she was the one getting head. She could feel her pussy starting to ache, the fabric of her undies sticking to her pussy, but she couldn't help it. The way you sounded, your cute expressions and your pretty pussy were just too much to bare for her. "So fucking beautiful," she mumbled, pulling away from your pussy for a second. She slid a finger inside you and you arched your back, pushing your hips to her face to seek for more contact "This okay, yeah?" her voice was rasp. You whined in response "Ooooh look at her, think she loves me" it took quite a few to understand that she was talking to your pussy instead "God, w-why are you so…" you tried to hide the turmoil in your voice but you interrupted your own words with a slutty moan that left your throat as soon as she pushed her finger deeper into you.

"Fuuuck" you grunted, your eyes rolling to the back of your skull and the grip on her hand tightening. "So responsive," she chuckled. "Ellie, shut..up," you whined, moving your hips slowly to meet her thrusts. "Can't even talk without moaning, so nasty." she snickered, acting like she was totally unaffected by your pretty moans. She was fucking soaked, humping into absolutely nothing, not that you could notice it, too focused on the way she was making you feel. The gushing sounds riverbed throughout Ellie's bedroom, and she absolutely fucking loved it. She loved seeing you like this, whimpering and writhing under her touch, so ethereal, your body was pure art to her.

"M-more" you stuttered, panting a bit, your chest raising and falling quickly "More, huh?" she echoed mockingly, sliding another finger into your little honey jar, wetness dripping down to her knuckles from how wet you were. "Gahh-uhhd" you let out incoherent words, she groaned, feeling your walls clenching around her fingers and feeling her own clenching around absolutely nothing. "Like this, yes?" she questioned in a breathy voice, her brain suddenly struggling to make out sentences that made sense, too mushy to say shit and all because of you. If you only knew how long she waited to see you like this — touch you like this. "Uh-aahh" you trapped little whimpers inside your mouth, biting hard on your bottom lip again. "Nah-uh let me hear you," she immediately scolded you, shaking her head in disapproval, but you didn't listen.

Her face lowered to your pussy, lips attaching to your throbbing clit, teasing it with the tip of her tongue, switching between circling it and sucking it gently. Your mouth hung open, arching your back and bucking your hips against her face as you let out obscene moans. She moaned against your core, a mixture of her own spit and your juices covering her chin. "Taste hmmsoo good" Your other hand reached down to move pieces of her hair out of her face. "Ellie, I-i think I'm gonna-" you trailed off, not that she needed you to tell her, she could feel you squeezing her digits as she kept hitting that soft spot inside you. "Gonna cum, baby? wanna cum for me, beautiful?" she cooed.

"God..I love you so fucking much," she hissed under her breath; you moaned loudly in return, riding her fingers "Babe, m'gonna cum" you squealed, high-pitched moans reverbing throughout her apartment. "i'm here, princess" she cooed, squeezing your hand that she had been holding this entire time, so clingy. She wanted to ensure you knew she was there for you, not only to please you. That little feeling that had been building up in your stomach snapped like a rubber band, milking her fingers as she let you ride your orgasm. Curses falling from both of your lips, your muscles spasming and squeezing her fingers — god if she loved the way your body was reacting to her.

"I know, i know, I'm here baby" she whispered sweetly when a few whiny whimpers left your mouth. When you came down from your high, she withdrew her fingers and sucked them clean, her eyes locked with yours as she did so "You're so nasty" you giggled, feeling yourself blush again "You're the one who came all over my fingers" she teased you, crawling up to kiss your lips. Your tongues tangled together and you could taste yourself on her tongue. You place your hands on her waist, pulling her body closer to yours.

"You must be tired, angel." She reluctantly pulled away, an inch away from your lips as she spoke. "Want me to leave you all wet and needy?" you inquired in disbelief, lifting your brows up at her reluctance. Her eyes silently begging you to touch her, but she still preferred to put your health over her needs. That's how caring and loving she was. "I'm just saying you don't need to push yourself if you feel tired," she repeated.

"Oh, Ellie…" you sighed, pulling her underwear down and taking her by surprise. She seemed to be internally struggling to find the right thing to say, but you preceded her, "Think I can't handle a little fun?" you purred, growing bolder in your actions. You cupped her cunt, feeling all her sweet juices cover your hand; she was so fucking soaked, it was almost unbelievable. "Only if you're sure," she answered, her breath hitching in her throat as she gulped thickly, already trying hard to suppress her cute little moans. "I'm sure you want this," you teased her, the corner of your lips curling up in a smile, almost as if to make fun of her; it was your turn now.

"I do, you know I do," she replied. It was so entertaining to watch her keep her breathing steady. You ran your index and middle finger through her glistening folds and began to tease her puffy clit, rubbing it slowly, almost painfully. "Fuck" she grunted, humping the palm of your hand, desperate to find relief; you hummed back. "Am I doing okay?" you asked innocently; despite your inexperience, you could tell she loved it, and you high-fived yourself for the little mental notes you took while she was touching you just a moment ago. She grabbed your wrist, guiding your fingers to her entrance. "Finger me," she commanded with a raspy voice.

She let out a small gasp when you thrusted into her slowly. "Like this?" you could feel her walls clenching around your inexperienced fingers, "Uh-huh," she bobbed her head, positioning your hand just how she wanted it, guiding you as she rode your fingers. "Fuck, you're so messy — so wet for me," you muttered under your breath, pulling her closer to you; she was supporting her weight on her wobbly knees as she rode your fingers, burying her head into the crook of your neck. Your other hand rested on her hips, holding her in place and not allowing her to move as you kept slamming your fingers into her. The pleasure sounds she let out right into your ear only served to make you wetter and hornier than you already were — if that was even possible. It was almost like your inexperience melted away, with the sole intent of pleasing her. Immaculate sounds left her throat as she chased her orgasm on your fingers, and you couldn't help but groan pitifully after her. Your pussy already yearning for her again, struggling to hold onto the last shreds of sanity. "Just like that." Her voice was weak and breathy, it was fucking music to your ears, making you feel all types of things inside your tummy, butterflies perhaps? She couldn't even speak properly, struggling to suppress her slutty whimpers. Muttering filthy curses under her breath as you picked up the pace, hitting that spongy spot over and over; you could feel her whole body tremble and squirm in your hands. What made it better was knowing that you were causing it.

"You feel so good, El," you whispered in her ear, kissing all the cute little freckles spattered on her bare shoulder and collarbone "'m gonna cum" she gasped, her whimpers becoming more frequent and louder. Who knew she'd become a whiny mess when close to her orgasm, but for some reason, you found it adorable — like her life depended entirely on your fingers, cute wispy brows furrowed together in concentration. "Gonna cum on my fingers, pretty?" you purred. "Please…" she sounded so fucking needy it was almost ridiculous, but you slowed down instead, earning a groan from her part "Nonono, don't stop, pleaseplease," Her words were rushed, sounding like a kid who had just lost the most precious possession. "What is it that you said? Words, right? — you gonna be a good girl and ask or you just gonna cum like that?" for some reason, the idea of playing with her in such a vulnerable state turned you on. You wanted to see how far you could push her. She let out a shaky breath. "Can't believe you're doing this." She slowly shook her head in disbelief. Your digits pressed on the spot that almost made her squirt, and she squirmed. "Words." You spoke with a firmer tone, but you still had a playful, teasing smirk on your lips. "Swear to fucking god— next time, I won't go so easy on you," uttering a threatening remark followed by an imperceptible scoff. "I never asked you to go easy on me." Your pace slowed down even more, and she frowned at you.

"Can I cum? on your fingers? please." her chest heaving with each ragged breath. Her eyes were wide and glossy, her pupils dilated with desperation. "Such a goood girl El, such a good girl…cum for me" but all she could do was crash her lips against yours, leaving you no choice but swallow all her little noises. Her thighs trembled with each thrust, her legs parting slightly to allow better access as your fingers kept thrusting in and out of her wetness harder and faster, causing her to moan into your mouth.

When she came down from her high she collapsed against you, your bodies glistening with sweat, still breathing unevenly. The first thing she said when her breathing went back to normal was "I think I'm gonna marry you," before dissolving into a fit of giggles. You couldn't help but chuckle along with her. "I'm flattered. I guess you liked it then?" you responded, wrapping your arms around her. She snuggled into your chest, a contented smile on her face. "If I liked it?" she repeated, incredulous. You laughed softly, "Well, did you?"

"You were lying when you said it was your first time, weren't you?" she asked teasingly, furrowing her eyebrows at you and looking at you with a mix of curiosity and suspicion. "I take that as a compliment," you smirked, not giving her a straight answer, her eyes carefully studied your features, analyzing every crease and contour, searching for any sign of deception "No, seriously. Were you a virgin?" she asked again, still in disbelief "I guess you'll never know," you said, teasing her further. "Come on. I'm your girlfriend. I'm supposed to know," she said, acting dramatic and waving her hands in the air. "Are you?" you asked teasingly, and she gasped in mock offense. "Excuse you? Am I not your girlfriend?" she asked, pretending to be hurt. You couldn't help but giggle. "I meant...are you supposed to know?" you teased her curiosity. "Pffttt whatever," she said, pretending to be offended and scooting away from you. You continued laughing at her antics. "Babe, where are you going?" you asked, still chuckling as you reached for her tattooed forearm and pulled her back towards you. "Girlfriends tell each other everything," she pouted playfully. "Right. Let's watch Jurassic Park and cuddle," you suggested, grabbing the remote to put the movie on.

You shared a bond that was unbreakable, and every experience you had together only brought you closer as if there was an invisible red string that seemed to connect the two of you, always pulling you closer and closer with each passing day. Your love for each other was like a never-ending flame that grew brighter with time. She never really stopped surprising you with little thoughtful gifts, and she even drew sketches of you when you weren't looking, and you both looked forward to creating new adventures together. She was always this huge simp for you, your number one supporter and fan.

After completing university, she asked you to move into her small but cozy apartment, which was basically a reflection of her personality. The walls were adorned with paintings she had made, stacks of comic books on her shelves, action figures, and her favorite movies and games collection. It was a delightful mishmash of all the things she loved. And slowly, your belongings started to mix in with hers. Her lonely toothbrush now had a companion, and her sneakers left by the door had an extra pair of shoes right next to them — your shoes. The dirty laundry was now a mix of colorful pink clothes and pastel colors, while hers were mostly grey or dark clothes. The wall hooks had more jackets hanging on them, and cute little stuffed animals were carefully placed on her your bed. The shelves filled with cute little plants that you both lovingly cared for, filling the empty gaps between an action figure and another. Living with her was a dream come true; you couldn't have been happier. You both had created a space that was uniquely yours, filled with love and a familiar warmth, it felt like family.

And before you knew it a new member joined your little family — a golden retriever. You had always dreamt of having a dog, but your parents never allowed you to have one when you were a kid. You had been talking about how much you loved the idea of having a furball running around your little apartment, ever since, Ellie had been secretly planning to surprise you with a cute little puppy. She had subtly asked you what kind of dog you would like, and she started doing her research. She had never owned a dog before, so she wanted to learn as much as possible about what puppies needed. Puppies required more than just toys and cuddles, after all they needed proper nutrition, and she was confused about what kind of food to get for the puppy. She went to the grocery store and found a wide variety of puppy food with different flavors and vitamins. After careful consideration, she picked out what she thought was the best one for the puppy. One day, she told you that she was staying out late for work; in reality, the poor baby had to drive for an hour to get the exact puppy she had seen on social media (Facebook, to be exact, Joel had helped her with that). The puppy was a beautiful golden retriever with a shiny coat and an adorable face. The drive back home with the puppy was mostly quiet, except for her talking to the honey-furred baby that sat there in the passenger seat in silence, looking at her lovingly.

The puppy's big, brown eyes had already stolen her heart, and she found herself speaking in a silly, high-pitched voice "I just know she's gonna love you," she cooed, her words directed at the adorable pup. "You're such a good girl, aren't ya?" she continued, praising the puppy for every little thing she did, even breathing. "You better not be stealing her from me too much, though, or else…" she trailed off, her voice filled with mock threats. But her playful words quickly turned to more affectionate ones as she gazed into the puppy's sweet eyes. "Gosh, you're so fuckin' cute," she whispered, her fingers gently caressing the puppy's soft fur while the other remained on the steering wheel "Wonder what your name will be," she hummed, tapping her fingers lightly on the wheel. She began to sing a song she had just made up on the spot, directed at the little furball who was wiggling her tail in excitement. "My cute little shrimp," she sang, her voice filled with love and affection, but when the puppy let out a little whine at her singing, she couldn't help but laugh at herself. "What? Am I that much of a bad singer?" she joked, her voice filled with self-deprecating humor. "Oof, tough crowd," she added, chuckling at her own joke "Just wait till I show you my guitar skills, you little shit."

When she finally made it to your apartment, she had to carry the little shrimp all the way up to the stairs cause the puppy was too scared to climb them and the elevator was currently broken. She had to take small steps to make sure she wouldn't trip over her own feet or something like that. "So heavy," she muttered under her breath before putting the pup down, her arms aching. She unlocked the door and you immediately called out your name. "You home, baby?" she heard from the kitchen, where she assumed you were washing the dishes because she could hear the sound of clinking plates. She responded, "Could you come here real quick? need your help with something." She left the dog outside on the doorstep, behind the wall and out of your sight.

You shouted from the kitchen, "Give me a second," before approaching her. She handed you a plastic bag filled with dog toys and bowls. You looked at her in confusion since you didn't own a pet. "What's this for?" you asked, puzzled. She didn't reply but simply moved to the side and clicked her tongue multiple times. The fur ball appeared and ran to you wiggling her tail. You slapped your hand on your mouth in disbelief, and your eyes widened in surprise, soon welling up with tears.

You got on your knees and held the pup close to you, hugging the fur ball tightly. "Oh my fucking god, iloveyouiloveyou," you kept rambling between cute sniffles, and she couldn't help but laugh at your reaction. "Surprise, babe," she said with a small smile, kneeling down to pet the puppy in your arms. The puppy was small and soft, with big brown eyes and tiny paws. You couldn't believe how adorable she was.

"I love you so fucking much. She is so fucking cute. I can't believe it. I'm a mother now," you said, tears of joy running down your cheeks. She chuckled at your words, happy to see you so happy. "Yep, we're parents now," she played along, scratching the dog behind her ear. "What're we naming her?" she asked then, wiping the tears off your face with her thumb.

"Maple?" you sniffled hard, "Maple, I like Maple." You looked down at the little pup in your arms, and she looked up at you with innocent eyes.

Ever since the beginning, it was clear that Maple was more than just a pet; she was a member of your family. She was such a beautiful and intelligent dog, whenever you or Ellie came home, Maple would be the first to greet you with a wagging tail and excited barks that would fill the room with her infectious energy. She would jump up, her paws dancing in the air, and nuzzle her wet nose against your hand begging for cuddles and kisses. But Maple's abilities went beyond just being a dog. She had an incredible intuition that seemed almost human-like, and had a sixth sense when it came to reading emotions. She always seemed to sense whenever your heart was going a little too crazy and would nudge you with her nose to make you sit down. But your heartbeat wasn't the only thing she could sense; whenever Ellie was about to have a panic attack she could feel it, and if she was having one and you weren't by her side, she would come get you.

You remembered the first time this happened. It was a dark and stormy night, and you and Ellie had just gone to bed. You were sound asleep when Maple jumped up on the bed and began licking your face frantically. You thought she needed to go outside, so you groaned, "Babe, think Maple needs to-" You started, your voice still thick with sleep, but when your hand landed on the empty mattress instead of your girlfriend's shoulder, you instantly woke up.

Following Maple to the bathroom, you found Ellie sitting on the floor, tears streaming down her freckled face, and her breathing uneven. You knelt down in front of her and spoke to her softly, using a soothing tone to calm her down. You knew better than just to touch her; she seemed too absent and lost in her own nightmare to welcome such an invasion. "El, hey…I'm here, honey." As your gentle cooing reached her ears, she seemed to awaken from a trance, her terrified eyes locked with yours, fear etched across her beautiful features. "Hi baby, it's okay." you tried to calm her down, "i'm here, okay?" she was trembling with fear, and your heart sank. You gently placed your hand on her knee and tried to reassure her that everything was going to be okay. With a soft and soothing voice, you said, "You're safe now...let's take a deep breath together, alright?" You could see the tears streaming down her face as she tried her best to mimic your deep breaths. You kept encouraging her to take deep breaths in and out, and she slowly began to calm down. Maple sat in the corner of the bathroom, watching over Ellie with a concerned expression. When Ellie finally calmed down, you sat down next to her and pulled her into a tight embrace. "I'm here for you," you felt her body relax and her breathing steady. She leaned into your touch, and you could feel the tension in her body slowly dissipating. You were her anchor, her everything. You could feel her heartbeat slowing down as she rested her head on your chest, listening to the rhythm of your breathing. You kissed the top of her head tenderly, and she closed her eyes, taking in your scent. Suddenly, she rasped out, "I love you," her voice sounded weak, you knew she was exhausted "I love you more — Feeling better?" You ran your fingers through her messy hair, and she gave you a small nod in response. The golden furball walked to Ellie's other side and laid down, placing her head on her thigh. Ellie smiled weakly and petted her gently "My two favorite girls," you joked with a soft tone, trying to lighten the mood. An airy scoff left her nose as all three of you sat there, cuddling each other.

Maple was an essential part of your family. She was always there, no matter where you went. Sundays were extra special because Ellie would be at home all day. You would spend those days soaking up all her attention and going to the beach with her and Maple, your cute little meatball. There was nothing better than lounging under the warm afternoon sun, and Ellie bringing a big umbrella to shield you from the heat. While you played with Maple, she would often strum her guitar or sketch the two of you, looking at you with heart eyes as she captured the moment on paper. The sound of your laughter would fill the air, as you threw the frisbee to Maple and enjoyed the perfect beach day with Ellie by your side. You were all she ever wanted and she was all you ever wished for.

That's why she felt the need to take your relationship to the next level.

"Baaaabe" you shouted from the living room while browsing through the countless titles on Netflix. "Yeah?" Your girlfriend responded from the kitchen, her voice echoing through the cozy apartment as she paced around, probably making you something to drink. "What do you wanna watch?" your eyes casted across the big TV screen, the multiple titles illuminate your face, making it difficult to choose just one. You heard a sigh from the other side of the couch and looked over to see your beloved dog, Maple, ready to nap after a long day of work. poor dog.

"Uhhh…dunno, a horror movie?" she suggested, sounding unsure. "Wow, thanks for the help, Ellie. Always so useful," You retorted in a fake annoyed tone "Do you remember that new movie with Jennifer Lawrence I told you I wanted to watch?" she asked after a few moments of pondering, emerging from the kitchen with two steaming mugs in her hands. You raised an eyebrow at her and asked, "So, you wanna watch it for her, huh?" She laughed at your words and rolled her eyes. "C'mon, you told me to pick something, and I did," she explained handing you one of the mugs. "Careful, it's hot." You'd never seen this mug before, Ellie was obsessed with collecting new ones, so you didn't really pay attention to it. "Okay, fine, Jennifer Lawrence, it is," you said as you selected the movie she suggested. "Hi, baby," you heard her say in a high-pitched voice, and when you looked at her, you realized she was talking to the dog. "Hi baby? really? I'm literally right here." She giggled at your response and scooted closer to you, kissing your cheek. "Hi baby," she repeated her words, but this time in a sultry tone "Better."

You took another sip of your drink, but you could feel her gaze lingering on you. When you turned to look at her, she quickly averted her eyes and pretended to be interested in the TV. "What?" you asked, brows furrowing in confusion. "What?" she echoed back, acting like she hadn't been staring at you for the last 15 minutes. "No, you what" you repeated, her eyes darting from the mug in your hands to you. "You done with that yet?" she questioned, seeming almost too impatient. "Huh?" she cleared her throat, eyes wandering nervously around the living room for a few seconds before returning them to you again. "Are you done with your latte? Want me to make you more?" she rephrased it, trying to sound less nervous. You looked down at your mug for a second "Not yet"

Her eyes remained glued on you, eagerly awaiting for something, a reaction perhaps, you couldn't tell, she was just acting weird as hell. "Done?" she asked for the third time in a row, after every five seconds, but to her, it felt like an eternity. "Ellie, I swear—" You let out an exasperated sigh "What?" she replied, her voice laced with innocence. "No, seriously. You tryna poison me or something?" you joked,and she simply scoffed at your words and rolled her eyes at you. "Just drink it fast, god," she demanded, her impatience showing. As you take the last sip, your eyes caught a glimpse of a few letters printed on the bottom of the mug.

Your heart skipped a beat as you read the words

Will you marry me?

You felt tears welling up in your eyes, and before you could even process what was happening, you jumped into her lap, crying in her arms. She wrapped her arms around you tightly, and you could feel her heart beating in sync with yours. "Yesyesyesyes" you had whispered between sobs, your voice choked with emotion. Her eyes lit up with joy and she pulled away, revealing a small diamond ring in her hand. You looked at her in awe, realizing that that was the moment you had been waiting for your entire life. The woman of your dreams had asked you to spend the rest of your life with her, and you couldn't have been happier.

"I love you so much," you sobbed, tears streaming down your face as you watched her hands sliding the ring on your finger. She chuckled through her own tears and replied, "I think I love you even more." You sniffled and cupped her face, saying, "I love you with all my heart."

Ellie being Ellie, couldn't help but make a joke about that. She looked at you with a playful smirk on her face; she wiggled her eyebrows up and down and said, "All your heart, huh?"

With a grin, you replied, "It's beating like crazy for you." Then she asked if you wanted to hear a joke from her pun book, but you knew it was a rhetorical question. You prepared yourself for the inevitable dumb joke she was about to tell. "Ellie, I thought we talked about this." You fake scolded her, but she couldn't hold back her smile as she started her joke, almost as if she was about to make the funniest joke ever but everyone who knew Ellie knew that her jokes were...questionable. "Are you pulmonary embolism?" she proceeded, barely containing her laughter.

"Oh no," you frowned, rubbing your forehead. She then delivered the punchline with a wide smile, all proud of herself "Because you take my breath away." You looked at her with a deadpan expression and let out a sigh. You shook your head, and said "Can't believe I'm marrying you," trying to hide the smile that was starting to form on your lips. Ellie looked at you with a cocky grin "Right? I'm great like that — Talented, charming, great jokes...what else could you possibly want?" Rolling your eyes, you responded, "fancy package, lucky me"

After your laughter had subsided, you gazed into her captivating green eyes with a smile filled with affection. You were so deeply in love that it felt almost painful. You could hardly believe how fortunate you were to have found each other. The thought of spending the rest of your lives together filled you with joy and excitement. Both of you leaned in simultaneously, eager to feel the warmth of each other's lips in a tender and passionate kiss.

She was the person who made your life complete. You felt like you had been waiting for her all your life; your life always felt so dull and empty and you never understood why or what it was missing, until you met her. She was your soulmate, your best friend, and the love of your life. You couldn't imagine spending a single day without her by your side. She was the one who made everything better, who made you laugh with her stupid and corny puns when you wanted to cry, who held your hand when you needed comfort. You knew that you could face anything as long as she was with you. You were grateful for every moment you spent together and looked forward to spending the rest of your life with her.

On your wedding day, the weather was perfect, with clear skies and a gentle breeze that carried the scent of flowers from the nearby garden. It felt like a dream come true, and you couldn't believe the day had finally arrived. You couldn't help but feel a sense of excitement and anticipation as you prepared to marry the love of your life. Sure, you were exhausted at the end of the day, but it was all worth it.

As you walked down the aisle, you saw everyone you loved and cared for, all gathered in one place to celebrate your special day. Ellie's closest friends, Dina and Jesse, Joel, your parents, and all your friends were there, beaming with joy and happiness. You were wearing a beautiful white dress that hugged your curves in all the right places, and Ellie couldn't help but cry when she saw you. Her dad rubbed her back, trying to calm the poor baby down, but the tears kept streaming down her face. You were a vision, and she couldn't believe how lucky she was to have you. Ellie was equally breathtaking in her suit, looking sharp and elegant, you couldn't take your eyes off her, she was so fucking fine. You exchanged vows, and it took her a while to finish reading hers, as she was choked up with sobs and emotions. You tried to comfort her by holding her trembling hands, but she was just a wreck.

When the time came for you to kiss your bride, the celebrant said, "You may now kiss your bride." Ellie looked at you with teary eyes, and you both giggled as you leaned in for a kiss, both of you smiling against each other's lips. That moment marked the beginning of your journey together as a married couple, but what mattered most was that you were both committed to being there for each other no matter what.

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yourlocaljonghoe · 3 months ago

Text

Your Gentle Hands (Please Don't Ever Let Go Of Me Again). || Kim Hongjoong. [ Part 2 ]

Part 1 here.

Summary: meeting the local outcast shouldn't have ended with you slowly falling for him. yet you did, all while knowing you could never have this man, because you were already someones else's wife. two lovers, a dress shop, and a violent man between it all. we all know how this ends, right? ... right?

Pairing: dressmaker!kim hongjoong x fem. reader

Genre: angst, fluff, suggestive

Wordcount: 22.7k

Warnings: misogyny, mentions of (domestic) violence, injuries, wounds, scars, lots of tears and trauma, allusions to sex but cuts right before the actual act

A/N: all i have to say is... thank fucking god i finally finished it. i struggled so much, and though i still love it im also so sick of this fic haha. there are so many people i want to thank for listening to my rambling, brainstorming and constantly reassuring me: @ghstzzn, @skteezcursed, @xomakara and also to @pali-writes-atiny-bit who beta read the whole thing <33 please don't forget to reblog and like! divider credits as always to @firefly-graphics!

Available here on AO3.

“When you fall in love, it is a temporary madness. It erupts like an earthquake, and then it subsides. And when it subsides, you have to make a decision. You have to work out whether your roots are to become so entwined together that it is inconceivable that you should ever part. Because this is what love is. Love is not breathlessness, it is not excitement, it is not the desire to mate every second of the day. It is not lying awake at night imagining that he is kissing every part of your body. No … don’t blush. I am telling you some truths. For that is just being in love; which any of us can convince ourselves we are. Love itself is what is left over, when being in love has burned away. Doesn’t sound very exciting, does it? But it is!”

Captain Corelli’s Mandolin by Louis de Bernières

The room around you was quiet, save for the distant ticking of the old grandfather clock in the hallway. As a child, you'd hated this clock. Now, as an adult, you despised it.

Your hands rested in your lap, the delicate lace of the dress you loved so much pooling around you like the last remnants of a life that, albeit short, once felt full of promises. The world outside was moving on, the townsfolk bustling about with their daily tasks, their lives seemingly untouched by the darkness that has taken hold of your heart.

It was funny, hilarious even.

Because despite pretending not to, they all knew, bowed their heads in shame whenever you walked by.

Yet not a single soul had ever cared.

Not until a man was dead, and another one was jailed for his murder.

You leaned your forehead against the cool glass of the window, watching as the winter sun set over the distant hills, casting a golden glow on the town below. The streets were full of people rushing to finish their errands before nightfall, their faces etched with concern and urgency. None of them spared a glance in the direction of your family's old house, none of them knew the depth of your despair.

Or maybe they did. Maybe they just didn't care.

It wouldn't be the first time.

The sound of the door creaking open drew your attention, but you didn't turn to look. You knew who it was. Your mother had a way of entering a room that felt like an invasion, like an unwelcome breeze slipping through a crack in the window.

“You’re still wearing that costume,” she said, voice low and disapproving. “That man. Hongjoong. You shouldn't-”

“Shouldn't what, Mother? Mourn the only person who ever truly cared for me?”

You kept your forehead pressed against the glass, your breath fogging up a small circle. The lace of your dress felt heavy now, like a shroud. Once, you had worn it with pride. It had been a gift from Hongjoong, back when his friendship, care and love felt like a lifeline. Back when you were still able to see him, touch him, kiss him-

“Why do you still have it on?” she continued, stepping further into the room. Her footsteps were slow, deliberate. “It's time to let go of the past.”

You finally turned to face her, your eyes cold. The sight of her stirred a boiling rage within you, a fury that had been simmering for too long. She looked at you with the same passive face she always had, the face of a woman who turned away from the truths she didn't want to see.

“You let him do this to me,” you said, your voice trembling with restrained anger. “You saw the bruises. You heard the screams. And you did nothing.”

She flinched, just slightly, but quickly regained her composure, fidgeting with her hands. You two had that habit in common. “I did what I thought was best. It was a different time-”

“Different time?” you interrupted, standing up. The lace dress flowed around you, the wind making it flare up. “You watched your daughter suffer, and you did nothing. That's not the past. That's just who you are.”

Your mother’s eyes glistened with unshed tears, but you felt no pity for her. Not anymore. The betrayal was too deep, the wounds too fresh.

“E-everything's changed now,” she said softly. “He's gone. You’re free.”

“Free?!” you echoed, laughing bitterly. “Free to live in this prison of horrible memories? Free to be haunted by the faces of all the people who turned away? Free to watch the man I love be behind bars for a crime I committed?”

Silence fell between you, heavy and oppressive. The ticking of the grandfather clock in the hallway seemed so, so much louder now.

“You need to let go,” she whispered, a plea hidden in her tone.

“And you need to face what you did,” you replied, your voice cold and unwavering. “Or, well, didn't do.”

With that, you turned back to the window, shutting her out once more. The sun had nearly disappeared behind the hills, casting long shadows across the town.

You wouldn't stay here much longer. You had a plan, and soon, it would be time to carry it out.

But before that, you had to see your entire family again. And tonight, while celebrating another successful harvest season was the perfect opportunity. Even though the bond you once shared was inevitably broken, they were your family, your people, whom you once loved and shared many memories with.

One last time, you wanted to look them right in the eye.

Because afterwards, you vowed to never speak to them again.

“Miyeon isn't coming today?” you asked as you and your eldest sister set the table. Unfortunately for you, you had to take off Hongjoong’s dress for real this time. To keep the peace, your mother insisted.

“She's with child, Y/N. She can't travel that far. Unlike some of us, she actually fulfills her wifely duties”, she remarked snarky, her voice cold and arrogant.

You didn't take her usual bait. “What a shame. May she and her unborn be healthy,” you whispered. You were being honest; you truly wanted that. Your middle sister was a good human, and you knew if she and her husband Gikwang wouldn't be away so much traveling the world, she would probably be the only family member you could truly lean on.

Unlike Jisoo, the eldest of you. Your relationship had always been strained, even as children. While you and Miyeon were close, Jisoo had always thought of herself as the best of the best, thus never bothering to actually spend time with you.

And when she married her wealthy husband, Juwon, her arrogance reached a whole new level. When your family's fortune went downhill and you had to marry below your status, her evil, cruel nature fully revealed itself to you.

While she was always cordial with your parents and sister, in private, you were her personal punching bag.

Your sister's voice snapped you back to the present. “Father's been asking about you,” Jisoo said, arranging the cutlery with a meticulousness that bordered on obsessiveness. “He's worried.”

“Worried?” you echoed, suppressing a bitter laugh. “Funny, he didn't seem worried at all when he handed me over to a monster.”

Jisoo’s lips pressed into a thin line. “He did what he thought was best for the family. You were meant to secure our future.”

“And look how well that turned out,” you said, the sarcasm dripping from your words. “One dead, another imprisoned, and me... here, all alone.”

For a brief moment, you could swear your sister's expression softened for a moment, a flicker of something almost like sympathy crossing her features. “Y/N...”

But you weren’t in the mood for her half-hearted attempts at empathy. “Save it, Jisoo. You’ve made your feelings clear enough over the years.”

Silence fell over the room as the two of you continued to set the table. God, in moments like these, you really needed Miyeon. Or ‘Always the peacemaker Miyeon’, as you called her. Because now, this large dining room, once a place full of warmth and laughter, felt like a mausoleum, merely filled with the ghosts and memories of happier, easier times. The ornate chandelier above - one of the rare expensive items your family kept after your father lost his job and status -, the polished wooden floors, the family portraits lining the walls - they all seemed to mock the illusion of a perfect family that had long since shattered.

The room fell into an uneasy silence afterwards. Jisoo's meticulously manicured fingers continued moving with precision, setting each fork and knife in its place, perfectly in order.

“Y/N,” Jisoo began again, her voice softer this time. “I know you’ve been through a lot. But we’re still family. We have to… find a way to move forward.”

You looked at her, really looked at her for the first time in years. Behind the cold exterior, you saw traces of the sister you once played with in the gardens, the sister that, despite never being interested in the same things as Miyeon and you, tried her best to somewhat bond with you, all for the sake of the family. Before life had driven a wedge between you. Now, all those memories felt like they belonged to another lifetime, a dream you could barely recall.

“Moving forward,” you repeated, almost to yourself. “It sounds so simple when you say it.”

“It’s not simple,” Jisoo admitted, setting down the last knife and turning to face you fully. “But it’s necessary.”

You opened your mouth to reply, but the sound of footsteps in the hallway made you pause. Your father entered the room, his once robust frame now slightly stooped with age and worry. His eyes, once so full of authority, now seemed to carry the weight of too many regrets.

He looked as miserable as you felt.

“Y/N,” he said, “It’s good to see you. You've been hiding in your room every time I come back from the fields, I thought… I thought you were ignoring me.”

You nodded, not trusting yourself to speak because yes, you totally were ignoring him. Your relationship with your father had always been complicated, and recent events had only made it worse.. He had been the one to arrange your marriage, to send you into the hands of the man who had caused you so much pain. Forgiveness was a luxury you couldn’t afford, not yet.

Not ever, maybe.

“Father,” you finally managed, your voice tight. “Jisoo and I were just finishing setting the table.”

He glanced at the table, then back at you, his eyes searching your face for something, anything - understanding, perhaps, or absolution. “Thank you, both of you. It means a lot to have the family together again, minus your lovely sister of course.”

Jisoo moved to stand beside him, her hand resting lightly on his arm. “Are you worried? She's in good health, father, the delivery will surely go well.”

You tried so hard not to get upset at the scene unfolding in front of you. Seeing him so worried about Miyeon stung, because when has he ever shown you this kind of emotion?

He nodded, but his expression remained troubled. “Where’s your mother?”

“In the sitting room,” you replied. “She’s... resting.”

The truth was, you had left her standing in the middle of that room after yet another argument, lost in her own guilt and sorrow. But you didn’t have the energy to explain that to your father.

“I’ll go get her,” he said, turning to leave. “Dinner will be ready soon. Jisoo, get your sons from the garden.”

As he walked away, you felt a pang of something close to pity. For all his faults, your father was still trying to hold the family together, still clinging to the hope that things could return to some semblance of normalcy. But you knew better.

Jisoo’s voice pulled you back to the present. “We should finish up. Mother won’t be happy if everything isn’t perfect.”

You nodded, moving mechanically as you placed the last of the plates on the table. The scent of roasted meat and freshly baked bread wafted in from the kitchen, mingling with the tension in the air. This dinner, this facade of normalcy, felt like a cruel joke. But for now, you played along, if only to keep the peace a little while longer.

Dinner was… a strained affair, to say the least. Your family gathered around the table, the flickering candlelight casting shadows on faces that had grown distant and unfamiliar. Your mother, seated at the head, looked as if she were holding herself together by sheer force of will. Beside her, your father’s attempts at small talk fell flat, met with monosyllabic responses and uncomfortable silences.

Jisoo, always the dutiful daughter, tried to keep the conversation going. “Father, have you heard from the merchants about the new trade routes? I read that they’re opening up opportunities in the south. It could be good for the farm, we could get more profit and such.”

Your father nodded, seizing on the topic like a lifeline. “Yes, I’ve been in contact with a few of them. They say the prospects are promising. It could be a chance to recover some of what we’ve lost.”

You listened with half an ear, your thoughts all over the place.

You wondered what Hongjoong was doing at this very moment. Was he getting enough food? Was the little prison cell cold? Was he… Was he thinking about you, just like you were thinking about him? All you could think about was the memory of his touch, his voice, once your only source of comfort, now a constant torment. He was the only person who had ever truly understood you, and now he was paying the price for your actions.

“Y/N?” your mother’s voice brought you right back to reality, “Did you hear me?”

You blinked, realizing she had been speaking to you. “I’m sorry, Mother. What did you say?”

She sighed, a sound full of frustration and sadness. “I asked if you had any plans now that... now that things have changed.”

You knew what she meant. Now that your husband was dead, now that the scandal had rocked your family to its core. “I haven’t decided yet,” you said carefully. “There’s a lot to think about.”

Your mother nodded, her eyes flickering to your father, then back to you. “Just remember, we’re here for you. No matter what.”

You wanted to believe her, but the years of neglect and indifference had built walls that were impossible to tear down. “Thank you,” you said, though the words felt hollow.

As the meal wore on, the conversation thankfully turned to more mundane matters - Jisoo’s children, Miyeon’s pregnancy, the upcoming harvest celebration in town. It was as if everyone was trying to pretend that nothing had changed, that you were still a family bound by more than just blood and obligation.

But you knew better. And as you looked around the table at the faces of your family, you couldn’t help but wonder if they felt that, slowly but surely, you were no longer a part of them.

Later on, as everyone else was lingering in the living room already, you turned around to your mother, now all alone with you in the kitchen. “Mother?” you asked.

“What is it?”

“The bread you made… can I have some more of it? It was… very good.”

For a split second, she looked you right in the eye.

“...Sure, my daughter.”

She knew something was up.

But maybe, maybe, not intervening with your plans was her way of finally apologizing to you.

The small police station was cold and dimly lit, the flickering candlelight casting eerie shadows on the stone walls. As you stepped inside, Officer Kim, one of only four officers in your town, looked up from his desk, his expression a mix of surprise and curiosity as he spotted you.

“Mrs. Y/N,” he greeted, standing up. “What brings you here at this hour?”

You took a deep breath, steeling yourself. “I need to see him,” you said, your voice cold and determined. “I need to face the man who killed my husband before he is executed.”

Officer Kim’s eyes widened slightly, but after composing himself, he nodded. “Of course. Just... be careful. He’s not in the best of moods.”

You forced a tight smile. “Thank you, Officer Kim. I brought this as a token of my appreciation.” You handed him the neatly wrapped loaf of bread. “It’s from my mother. She insisted.”

He accepted the gift with a nod. “Thank you, ma’am. That’s very kind of you.”

As he led you down the short hallway to the cells, your heart pounded in your chest. The air grew colder the more you entered the building. At one point, it was so cold you felt multiple shivers run down your spine. God, Hongjoong must have frozen to death here.

You shook your head, taking another deep breath. You had to act, and act well, for your plan to work.

“There he is,” Officer Kim said, nodding toward the second cell. Hongjoong sat on the narrow cot, his head bowed, his hands clasped together. At the sound of your approach, he looked up, his eyes meeting yours instantly.

You saw the turmoil of emotions behind his eyes. Guilt, sorrow, and so much relief to finally see you again.

“Y/N,” he began, but you cut him off with a glare.

“Don’t you dare say my name,” you hissed, stepping closer to the bars. “You have no right to speak to me.”

Hongjoong’s eyes widened, but he quickly masked his emotions. “What are you doing here?” he asked, his voice steady despite the turmoil in his eyes.

“I needed to see you,” you spat, your voice dripping with venom. “I needed to look into the eyes of the man who murdered my husband.”

Officer Kim shifted uncomfortably beside you, clearly uneasy with the tension. “I’ll give you a few minutes,” he said, retreating back to his desk. “But don’t take too long.”

You waited until his footsteps faded before turning back to Hongjoong, your expression softening. “I’m sorry,” you whispered, your voice barely audible. “I had to make it convincing.”

Hongjoong reached through the bars, his fingers brushing against yours. “What are you doing here?” he asked again, his voice trembling. He looked unwell; skinnier than ever before, his eyes sunken in and some torn, old clothes on his shivering frame.

“I have a plan to get you out,” you said, glancing over your shoulder to ensure Officer Kim wasn’t coming back just yet. “The bread I gave him... it’s poisoned. Not enough to kill, just enough to make him sick. When he’s down, I’ll get the keys and we’ll leave. Together.”

Hongjoong’s eyes filled with a mix of admiration and worry. “You’re risking everything for me.”

“I’d risk anything for you,” you confirmed, your voice breaking. “You’re the only person who’s ever truly cared for me. I can’t lose you.”

Before he could respond, you heard a muffled groan from the direction of the desk. It seemed as if officer Kim was already feeling the effects of the poison, his footsteps stumbling as he tried to return.

“Now,” you whispered urgently. “We have to go now.”

You hurried back to the entrance of the cells, finding Officer Kim slumped over his desk, groaning in pain. He looked up at you, confusion and betrayal clearly visible in his eyes.

“Mrs. Y/N... what...”

“I’m so, so sorry,” you said softly, reaching for the keys on his belt. “I had to.”

You returned to Hongjoong’s cell, unlocking the door with trembling hands. The door swung open with a creak, and he stepped out, his hand immediately finding yours.

“Let’s go,” you said, pulling him toward the back exit. “We don’t have much time.”

“Wait,” he said, and halted his steps. Before you could fully turn around and ask what's wrong, he was all over you.

His arms wrapped around you in a fierce embrace, pulling you close as if he were afraid you might disappear. You could feel his heartbeat, fast and erratic, echoing your own.

“I thought I’d lost you,” he murmured into your hair, his voice choked with emotion. “I thought I’d never see you again.”

You held onto him just as tightly, savoring the warmth and solidity of his body against yours. “We don’t have much time,” you whispered, even though you wanted nothing more than to stay in his arms forever. “We have to go.”

Hongjoong nodded, pulling back slightly but keeping a firm grip on your hand. Together, you made your way out, your hearts pounding with a mix of fear and exhilaration. The night was cold and still, the moon casting a pale light over the deserted streets..

“We’ll head to the forest,” you said, squeezing Hongjoong’s hand. “I hid a few resources for us by the tree where we first met. Along with… along with some evidence. Against my former husband.”

“You want… you want to prove my innocence?”

You looked at him, and nodded. “You are innocent after all. And… and I am too.”

Hongjoong’s grip tightened on your hand as the two of you made your way through the dark, narrow streets. “I have someone who can help us,” he whispered urgently. “Someone… powerful.”

You glanced at him. “Who?”

“I can't tell you yet. But trust me, she can definitely help us.”

She?

You nodded, but your mind raced. “...Alright, let’s get to the tree first. We need those resources.”

The two of you moved down the all too familiar path. The town was quiet, the only sound the occasional bark of a distant dog or the rustle of leaves in the wind. Beside you, Hongjoong wasn't as quick as he'd usually be; the weeks of solitary confinement, barely enough food and cold temperatures were clearly evident, yet he did not once fall behind. You reached the tree where you and Hongjoong had first met, a towering oak tree.

The place where it all started.

“There,” you whispered, pointing to a hollow at the base of the tree. Hongjoong knelt down, reaching into the hollow and pulling out a small bag. He opened it, revealing the few precious items you had hidden: food, water, a change of clothes, and most importantly, the evidence that could clear Hongjoong’s name.

“These letters,” you said, pulling out a bundle of crumpled papers. “They’re from my husband. Threatening me, detailing his abuse and plans to ruin our family if I didn’t comply. They’ll prove what kind of man he really was.”

Hongjoong nodded, his eyes hardening. “We’ll make sure everyone knows the truth. But first, we need to get out of here.”

“Don't you want to rest?” you asked, clearly worried about his current state.

He just took your hand and placed a chaste kiss on it. “Later. I have to make sure you're safe first.”

“And you, too,” you added.

“And me too,” he repeated.

So, the two of you set off again, moving through the shadows, your hearts pounding in unison. As you reached the main street, you were determined to make it as far as possible, as quickly as possible. But as you rounded a corner, you came to a sudden halt.

A carriage awaited you, its dark silhouette looming in the moonlight. And standing beside it, his expression grim, was your father.

“Father,” you whispered, your voice trembling with a mix of fear and anger. “What are you doing here?”

He stepped forward, his eyes locked on yours. “I… had a feeling you’d try to run,” he said quietly. “And I couldn’t let you do it alone.”

You stared at him, confusion swirling in your mind. “What do you mean?”

He sighed, his shoulders slumping. “I’ve made many mistakes, Y/N. So, so many mistakes. But letting you suffer in silence was the worst of all. I’m not here to stop you. I’m here to help you. Even if it means I'll never see you again.”

Hongjoong stepped protectively in front of you, his eyes narrowed. “Why should we trust you? You never protected her before, why now?”

Your father met his gaze steadily. “Because I love my daughter.”

“You're a liar,” you whispered, hot, angry tears threatening to escape your eyes.

He fiercely shook his head. “I'm a bad person, Y/N. I do not want to earn my forgiveness with this. But I'm not a liar. Never that. Take this carriage and go, wherever you two want to.”

You looked at Hongjoong, then back at your father. “And what about you?”

He shook his head. “I’ll stay behind and livel with the consequences. It’s the least I can do.”

Tears filled your eyes as you stepped forward, embracing your father tightly. It was the first hug you shared in a long, long time, and also the last one. “Thank you,” you whispered, your voice breaking.

He held you close for a moment, then gently pushed you toward the carriage. “Go. Be safe. And don’t look back.”

You and Hongjoong climbed into the carriage, the soft leather seats a stark contrast to the cold, hard ground you had just left. As the carriage began to move, you looked out the window, watching your father’s figure grow smaller and smaller until it fully disappeared into the night.

The carriage rattled along the narrow, winding road, the wheels clattering over the uneven stones. The night was cold, the air crisp with the promise of frost. You wrapped a blanket around yourself and Hongjoong, sharing the warmth as best you could. The lantern hanging from the carriage’s front swayed with each bump, casting erratic shadows that danced across the landscape.

The path ahead was long and treacherous, leading through dense forests and over rocky hills. Every so often, the carriage would hit a particularly deep rut, jolting you both almost freaking the horse out numerous times.

Luckily for you, Hongjoong was some kind of animal whisperer and managed to calm the horse pretty quickly each time.

As the hours passed, the moon climbed higher in the sky, its pale light filtering through the bare branches of the trees. The forest around you was alive with nocturnal sounds - the hoot of an owl, the rustle of leaves, the distant cry of a fox. You kept a wary eye on the shadows, aware that danger could lurk in the darkness.

Dawn was beginning to break when the carriage crested a hill, revealing a panoramic view of the valley below. The first light of day painted the landscape in soft hues of pink and gold, the rolling hills stretching out like a patchwork quilt. It was a moment of fleeting beauty, a reminder of the world beyond your troubles.

“It's so pretty here,” you whispered. Hongjoong hummed in return, his gaze slowly becoming more and more unfocused.

He was tired, and in desperate need for some rest.

“Let me drive for a while,” you said softly, touching Hongjoong's arm. “You need to rest.”

Hongjoong shook his head, though his exhaustion was evident. “I’ll rest later. We need to put as much distance between us and the town as possible.”

“Please,” you insisted, your voice gentle but firm. “You’re no good to me if you collapse from exhaustion. Let me take over until we find an inn.”

He hesitated, then finally nodded, knowing you were right. The carriage came to a halt, and you swapped places. As you took the reins, Hongjoong settled into the seat, wrapping the blanket tightly around himself. His eyes closed almost immediately, the tension in his body easing as he finally allowed himself to rest a little.

You guided the carriage along the winding road, the rhythm of the horse’s hooves a steady, comforting beat. The landscape around you began to change as the sun climbed higher, the dense forest giving way to open fields and distant mountains.

Hours passed, and you kept a vigilant eye on the road ahead. Occasionally, you would glance back at Hongjoong, who slept fitfully, his brow furrowed even in rest. The evidence you had gathered against your husband lay safely tucked away, a lifeline that could clear Hongjoong’s name and secure your future together.

As the sun began its descent, casting long shadows across the fields, you spotted a small village nestled at the base of the mountains. It was far enough from your town that you felt safe enough to stop for a while. The village appeared peaceful and quiet, only a few people out on the street at this hour.

You gently shook Hongjoong awake as the carriage rolled to a stop at the edge of the village. He stirred, blinking groggily. “Where are we?”

“A village,” you replied, helping him down from the carriage. “We can rest here for the night.”

He nodded, too tired to argue. The two of you made your way to the inn, a modest building with a welcoming glow emanating from its windows.

The inn's common room was a bustling hub of activity, filled with the sounds of laughter and the clinking of mugs. The innkeeper, a plump woman with kind eyes and a warm smile, greeted you as you approached the counter.

“Good evening, dear,” she said, her voice soft and welcoming. “What can I do for you?”

“We need a room for the night,” you replied, glancing back at Hongjoong, who was leaning heavily against the wall, fighting to stay awake.

The older woman nodded, her eyes flickering to Hongjoong before returning to you. "Of course, dear. We have one room available, but it only has one bed. I hope… that’s alright?”

Her eyes flickered towards your hand. There was no ring on it and so, if you took that single bed room, it would be quiet… frivolous.

You felt a flush rise to your cheeks. You yearned to be close to him, to feel his warmth and comfort, but after everything that happened, the thoughts of sleeping close to someone terrified you. And, most important in this current situation; you weren’t married yet.

Hongjoong, sensing your hesitation, stepped forward. “That will be fine,” he said softly, tired eyes settling upon your figure. “Thank you.”

It seemed you were the only one caring about appearances.

The innkeeper's smile widened, and she quickly handed you a key. “Room 3, just up the stairs. If you need anything, don't hesitate to ask.”

You nodded, taking the key with trembling hands. “Thank you,” you managed.

You carefully led Hongjoong up the narrow staircase. The wooden steps creaked under your weight, the sound echoing in the quiet hallway. It seemed that with your arrival, the sound of previous laughter had fully died down. Or maybe the ringing in your ears was too loud for you to notice any other noises. When you reached the door to your room, you hesitated for a moment before unlocking it and pushing it open.

The room was small but cozy, with a single bed pushed against one wall and a small window that offered a view of the village below. The bed was covered with a thick, quilted blanket, and a simple wooden chair sat in the corner.

Hongjoong sank onto the bed with a sigh, his eyes already half-closed. You stood awkwardly by the door, unsure of what to do next.

“Y/N,” Hongjoong murmured, his voice gentle. “You can take the bed. I'll sleep on the floor.”

You shook your head, stepping closer. “No, you need to rest properly. We'll share the bed. It’s... it’s fine.”

He looked at you, his eyes filled with a mixture of concern and gratitude. “Are you sure?”

You nodded, though your heart was pounding in your chest. “Yes. We'll manage. I trust you.”

And you did. What you did not trust though were your inner demons.

Hongjoong fully collapsed onto the bed, his exhaustion finally catching up with him. You sat beside him, brushing a lock of hair from his forehead. “Rest now,” you whispered. “We’ll figure out the rest in the morning. I'll go ahead and fetch us something to eat, okay?”

He nodded, his eyes already closing. You stayed by his side for a few minutes, then quietly left the room to look for food you both desperately needed.

After finding some bread, cheese, and a couple of apples in the inn's small kitchen, you returned to the room. The scent of the simple meal filled the space, mingling with the comforting warmth of the inn. Hongjoong stirred as you entered, his eyes slowly opening.

“Food,” you announced with a soft smile, sitting down on the edge of the bed and handing him a piece of bread. “It's not much, but it's something.”

He took the bread with a grateful smile, his fingers brushing against yours. “Thank you,” he murmured, taking a bite. “This is perfect.”

You both ate in silence for a while. Despite the simplicity of the meal, it felt like a feast after eating little to nothing the past few days. Hongjoong's presence, his gentle smile, and the way he looked at you with such trust and affection made the food taste even better.

As you carefully cut and shared the apples with him, your fingers occasionally brushed against his, each touch sending a small shiver down your spine. The tension of the past days seemed to melt away, replaced by a sense of peace and connection. You found yourself laughing softly at the way Hongjoong tried to juggle the uncut apples, almost dropping them.

“You're hopeless,” you teased, giggling as he finally managed to catch them.

He grinned, his eyes twinkling with mischief. “I'm just a man hopelessly in love,” he corrected, his tone playful yet sincere.

Your heart fluttered at his words, and you couldn't help but laugh, a genuine, carefree sound that you hadn't heard from yourself in a long time. It felt good to laugh, to share this moment of lightness with him.

As the meal came to an end, you both settled back on the bed, the small space forcing you to be close. Hongjoong's warmth radiated against your side, his arm brushing against yours. Despite the comfort of his presence, your body immediately tensed.

The last time a man laid next to you, he'd done unspeakable things to you.

But this… this was Hongjoong. Your Hongjoong.

You trusted him.

Yet at the same time, you were still terrified.

You tried to focus on his steady breathing, the rise and fall of his chest, but your heart raced, and your skin prickled with unease. You felt a knot of anxiety forming in your stomach, your muscles tightening involuntarily.

You couldn't breathe.

Hongjoong sensed your discomfort, his hand gently covering yours. “It's okay,” he whispered, his voice soothing. “I'm here.”

You nodded, but his reassurance did little to calm the storm inside you. Your mind was flooded with conflicting thoughts and emotions. The warmth of his body was both a comfort and a reminder of all you had endured. You wanted to relax, to let go and feel safe, but your body wouldn't allow it.

Your breathing quickened, your chest tightening. You could feel your pulse pounding in your ears, each beat drowning out every other sound. Your hands trembled, and you clutched the blanket tightly, trying to ground yourself.

“Breathe,” he murmured, his voice soft and steady. “Just breathe with me.”

“I can't,” you sobbed.

“Shhh. Just close your eyes.”

You did as he said, focusing on his voice, his warmth. Slowly, you matched your breathing to his. The tension in your muscles began to ease, though the fear still lingered at the edges of your mind.

Hongjoong's hand never left yours, his thumb tracing soothing patterns on your skin. “You're safe,” he whispered, his voice a balm to your frayed nerves. “I won't let anything happen to you.”

Tears welled up in your eyes. You squeezed his hand, finding strength in his presence. “Thank you,” you whispered, your voice trembling.

He pulled you closer, his arms wrapping around you in a gentle embrace. You felt the steady beat of his heart against your cheek, the rhythmic rise and fall of his chest grounding you. “We'll get through this,” he murmured. “Together.”

“You know,” you slowly began, carefully turning around. Now, face to face with him, you carefully lifted your fingers and started tracing husband features; his acquainted eyebrows, over husband prominent cheekbones to his soft, plush lips, where you remained a little longer.

“I don't think I'd be alive without you, Kim Hongjoong. For that… for you, coming into my life and selflessly saving me, I am beyond thankful. But at the same time… at the same time, I can't help but think that if you'd never met me… you could still live your normal life. Sometimes… it gets all too much.”

You held his gaze, your fingers repeating your previous actions of lightly tracing the curve of his lips. “You’ve given me so much, Hongjoong,” you whispered, your voice barely audible. “More than I ever thought I deserved.”

His hand came up to cup your cheek, his thumb brushing away a tear that had escaped. “You deserve everything, Y/N. More than I could ever give.”

The sincerity in his eyes made your heart ache. “I don't know what I'd do without you,” you said, your voice breaking. “You've been my rock, my savior. I... I don't know if I can ever repay you.”

Hongjoong's hand moved to the back of your neck, his fingers gently kneading the tension there. “You don't need to repay me. Just being with you is enough. Seeing you smile, hearing your laughter... that's all I need for the rest of my life.”

You closed your eyes, savoring the feel of his touch. His fingers were warm and strong, yet so gentle. It was a stark contrast to the harshness you had known before.

“You shine so bright, Joongie. Like the sun. My sun.”

He leaned in closer, his forehead resting against yours. “And you will shine like that too again. Soon,” he breathed, his lips brushing against your skin. The intimacy of the moment made your heart race, but it wasn't fear this time. It was something else, something deeper.

Something only Kim Hongjoong could make you feel.

You opened your eyes, finding his face so close to yours that you could see the flecks of gold in his brown eyes. “Hongjoong,” you whispered, your voice trembling. “I'm scared. Not of you, but of losing you. Of the future. Of what might happen if they find us.”

He pressed a soft kiss to your forehead, his lips lingering. “We won't let that happen. We're stronger together. They won't find us. Once we're in the capital, I’ll handle everything, okay?”

His words gave you strength, and you found yourself leaning into him, your lips brushing against his in a tender, lingering kiss. It was slow and gentle, a silent promise of your love and devotion towards each other. His hand slipped into your hair, holding you close as your lips moved together, exploring and savoring each other.

When you finally pulled back, you were both breathing heavily, your foreheads still touching. “I love you,” you whispered, your voice filled with pure, raw emotion.

Hongjoong's eyes softened, his thumb tracing your jawline. “And I love you,” he replied, his voice just as tender. “More than words can say.”

You stayed like that for a moment, wrapped in each other’s arms, the world outside forgotten. In his embrace, you felt safe, cherished, and deeply loved. The fear and anxiety that had plagued you began to fade, replaced by a warmth that spread through your entire being.

“Let’s rest now,” he whispered, his voice a soothing balm. “Tomorrow is a new day, and we’ll face it together.”

You nodded, feeling a sense of peace wash over you. “Together,” you echoed, your voice steady.

He gently guided you down onto the bed, pulling the blanket over both of you. His arms remained around you, holding you close as you settled into the warmth of his embrace.

As you drifted off to sleep, you felt his lips press a gentle kiss to your temple, his breath warm against your skin. “Goodnight, my love,” he murmured, his voice a soft caress.

“Goodnight,” you whispered back, your heart full.

That night, you finally had a good, peaceful sleep.

“How long until we arrive at the capital?”

Hongjoong was leaning against the carriage window, his eyes scanning the horizon. A storm would be coming soon, he said.

“Two more days, if we keep this pace,” he replied, turning to face you. “The storm may slow us down a bit.”

You nodded. The journey had been long and exhausting, the constant tension of being on the run making you an anxious mess. But with Hongjoong by your side, you felt a strength you had never known before.

The carriage jostled along the uneven road, the sounds of the wheels clattering against the stones a constant reminder of the distance still left to travel. You glanced at Hongjoong, his face etched with determination despite the exhaustion that lingered in his eyes.

“We’ll make it,” you said softly, more to yourself than to him. “We have to.”

He reached out, taking your hand in his and giving it a reassuring squeeze. “We will,” he affirmed, his voice steady. “And once we’re there, we’ll find a way to solve all this mess. To start over.”

You leaned against him, drawing comfort from his presence.

You traveled through several more small villages, their inhabitants just beginning to stir. Farmers led their livestock out to pasture, and shopkeepers opened their doors, the smell of fresh bread and morning fires wafting through the air. The sight of these simple, everyday routines filled you with a strange sense of peace, a reminder that life went on, and that, maybe in the future, your life may look like this too.

Simple yet happy and fulfilling.

And then, you arrived.

You gasped as the large gates of the city appeared in front of you.

The capital was a sprawling maze of streets and alleys, bustling with activity. Everything here was just so much larger, louder and generally more impressive, a stark contrast to the quiet, simpler life you had known. The noise and commotion seemed to close in around you, but Hongjoong’s steady presence kept you grounded.

“It's a lot to take in, right?” he asked.

You nodded, mouth opened in awe as you took in your surroundings. “It's huge. I can't stop looking everywhere!”

He laughed, gently squeezing your hand. “We'll have plenty of time to explore everything once we've settled in properly. I'll show you all my favorite places, okay?”

You smiled at him. A gentle, real smile. “Okay!”

Hongjoong looked around, his eyes bright with excitement despite the exhaustion. “Luckily for us, two of my closest friends live here. They’re good people, and I’m sure they’ll offer us a place to stay.”

You felt a wave of relief wash over you. “That would be wonderful. I can’t wait to meet them. You haven't told me much about your past, so I’m really excited, Joongie.”

“In the future, I'll tell you everything you want to know. My past, present and future are yours, Y/N.”

Your heart fluttered, and a deep blush coated your face. A sheepish smile stole its way onto your lips.

Hongjoong led you through the bustling streets, expertly navigating the maze of alleys and markets. After a few twists and turns, you arrived at a modest but welcoming home.

He hastily jumped up the carriage and then held his hand out for you to take it. You smiled at him. Your lover was a true gentleman, and it made you feel all giddy inside, even at such a small gesture.

Hongjoong knocked on the door, and moments later, it swung open to reveal a tall, athletic man with sharp features and an inquisitive look.

“Hongjoong?” the man said in surprise, his eyes widening. The first thing you noticed was his clothes. They looked… expensive. And yet, he lived in such a small home.

You wondered what his story was.

“What are you doing here?”

“San, it’s a long story,” Hongjoong replied, pulling San into a hug. “We need a place to stay. Is Wooyoung home?”

San nodded, stepping aside to let you both in. “He’s in the kitchen. Come in.”

As you stepped inside, you were immediately greeted by the comforting smell of home-cooked food. A few moments later, another man appeared, carrying a tray of freshly baked bread. He had a playful sparkle in his eyes and a welcoming smile on his face.

“Who do we have here?” Wooyoung asked, setting the tray down and wiping his hands on a towel.

“Wooyoung, this is my friend,” Hongjoong introduced you. “She's been traveling with me.”

Wooyoung’s eyes widened in surprise and then softened. “Well, any friend of Hongjoong’s is welcome here. Please, make yourself at home.”

You felt a warmth spread through you at their genuine hospitality. San and Wooyoung led you to a cozy living room where a fire crackled in the hearth. You sank into a comfortable chair, letting out a sigh as your aching muscles relaxed.

“Sorry for the sudden arrival,” Hongjoong said, his tone sincere. “We didn’t have time to send word ahead.”

San waved his hand dismissively. “Don’t worry about it. We’re just glad you’re safe. What’s going on?”

Hongjoong looked at you first, before briefly explaining: “It's too long of a story to share in detail. But, we had to flee from where we came from and are now on a mission to… clear up some misunderstandings. I can promise you two that you'll be kept out of any trouble. I just… need a safe place, especially to keep my woman safe.”

San nodded, curiously glancing towards you as the words ‘my woman’ left Hongjoong’s mouth. You smiled awkwardly at the man. “We have a spare room you can use, Hongjoong.”

Tears of gratitude welled up in your eyes. It wasn't much, but just having a place to stay, surrounded by people you knew Hongjoong trusted, was enough to make you feel all sorts of emotions.

“Thank you,” you said, your voice choked with emotion. “Thank you so much.”

Hongjoong squeezed your hand again, his own eyes full of gratitude. “We’re going to be okay,” he whispered softly. “Wooyoung and San are good, nice people. How about you just relax and befriend them while I'll do the work, hm?”

“I couldn't possibly-”

“Oh, but you can”, he interrupted you, playfully playing with your hair. “My Y/N should never worry her pretty head about anything again now that she's with me.”

You giggled sheepishly. “Oh Joongie, you're such a flirt!”

“Ahem.” A voice interrupted you and suddenly, the bubble around the two of you burst and you were reminded that you were not alone but, in fact, in the house of two men who were now very openly staring at you.

One who was cackling behind his hand like a menace - Wooyoung - and the other one who did not know where he should look. You, or the very interesting ceiling?

“So, ‘my woman', huh?” Wooyoung teased, his eyes twinkling with mischief. “Since when did you become such a romantic, Hongjoong? And most importantly: where’s our invitation to the wedding?”

Hongjoong’s ears turned a deep shade of red, and he cleared his throat awkwardly. “Wooyoung, now’s not the time…”

“Oh, but it’s always the time for love, Joongie!” Wooyoung replied with a dramatic flourish. “Here we were, thinking you were just wandering around from city to city and selling your dresses, but no, you were secretly out there sweeping a lovely lady off her feet!”

San tried to interject, a desperate attempt to hold the man beside him back. “Wooyoung, maybe we should-”

“San, don’t be a killjoy,” Wooyoung interrupted, waving his hand dismissively. “This is the most excitement we’ve had in weeks! Besides, our Hongjoong, who couldn't even look a woman into the eye the last time we saw him, has finally grown up. We must celebrate!”

“I'm older than both of you, Wooyoung!”

Hongjoong buried his face in his hands, clearly embarrassed. You couldn’t help but giggle at the situation, feeling a bit more at ease in the presence of the two strangers now.

“Y/N, you should know,” Wooyoung continued, leaning in conspiratorially, “Hongjoong here is quite the catch. He’s a gentleman, a true and talented dressmaker, and apparently, a poet. ‘My woman’, indeed.”

San finally managed to find his voice. “Alright, Wooyoung, give them a break. They’ve had a long journey, and they need rest, not your joking.”

Wooyoung pouted dramatically. “Fine, fine. But don’t think this conversation is over, Hongjoong. We need all the juicy details later.”

Hongjoong groaned, but there was a hint of a smile on his lips. “You never change, do you, Wooyoung?”

“Never,” Wooyoung replied proudly. “And you wouldn’t have it any other way.”

San shook his head, though a smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. “Let’s get you both settled in. You can rest, and we’ll talk more later. Until then Wooyoung, behave yourself.”

Wooyoung saluted playfully. “Aye, aye, captain!”

Later that evening, after a hearty meal and much laughter with Wooyoung and San, you were led into a small, cozy room. The modest bed in the corner looked incredibly inviting after the long journey. You quickly freshened up, San kindly lending you some spare clothing for the night, before returning back to the room. Hongjoong was already there, lying on his back, staring at the ceiling lost in thought. You quietly slipped in beside him, the bed creaking softly under your weight.

He turned to you, his expression softening as he reached out to brush a stray lock of hair from your face. “How are you feeling?” he asked gently.

“Tired,” you admitted, snuggling closer to him.

Only then did you realize that, despite sharing the bed with him multiple times now, this was the first time both of you wore proper sleeping clothing. Therefore, both of you were a bit… more exposed than usual.

Suddenly, you were very, very aware of the naked skin his hand was occasionally touching.

And your heart skipped a beat. This time, not of the usual warmth Hongjoong ignited within you all the time.

No, this time, there was also a hint of fear rushing through your veins.

You closed your eyes for a moment, savoring the softness of his touch, yet the past clung to you like a shroud, and you felt a flicker of hesitation within you.

“Y/N,” Hongjoong’s voice pulled you from your thoughts, low and soothing, “you can trust me.” There was an earnestness in his tone, a promise that echoed in the silence of the room. He shifted closer, his body radiating heat and a sense of safety that beckoned you to let go of your fears and open your eyes to meet him.

Nothing but sincerity and love greeted you in his gaze.

As his hand traced a gentle path along your arm, you shivered at the sensation. It was a touch that was so different from what you had known, devoid of the harshness that had once marred your skin and spirit. His fingers danced lightly over your wrist, and you felt a rush of warmth that sent a thrill through your heart, igniting a yearning you had thought was lost forever.

“Is this okay?” he asked, his voice barely above a whisper, his eyes searching yours for any sign of discomfort. You nodded carefully. It was a struggle to separate the innocence of his affection from the painful memories that tainted your every being. You could feel your breath quicken as he leaned closer, the scent of him - fresh and comforting - surrounding you like a soft embrace.

Hongjoong’s fingers slipped beneath your chin, tilting your face towards his. The way he looked at you, with such reverence and care, made your heart ache. “You’re safe with me,” he murmured, and it felt like a balm to your soul. You had craved this kind of tenderness, and even though the man in front of you was willing to give it to you, to give you his all, a remaining feeling of panic remained deep inside of you.

“I'm sorry you have to deal with this again. One may think that after we slept side by side so many times already I would get used to it. I don't know why I'm so pathe-”

“Princess, don't you dare finish this sentence. You're incredible and don't have to apologize for a single thing.”

He leaned in, brushing his lips softly against yours, a gentle caress that sent shivers down your spine. It was a kiss that said so, so much, a kiss that was patient and completely unhurried. You melted into him, feeling the warmth of his body envelop you like a protective cocoon.

You did your best to believe in his words.

That night, nothing more happened.

Hongjoong knew that it would take you a long while to truly let go of your fears.

And, while tracing more gentle kisses along your skin, all he said was: “I don't need you to give me your body to know that you are already mine and I am yours.”

The next day, as you slowly woke up and blinked the tears away, you noticed two things immediately: winter was coming, and the temperatures were dropping quickly and, most importantly; Hongjoong's side of the bed was empty.

There was no logical explanation for the panic that immediately set in, yet you felt your chest tightening and your heart pounding quickly. You rushed out of bed, almost stumbling over your own feet as you slipped into the soft pantoffels San provided you with, and sprinted down the stairs.

“Woah, what's the rush-”

“Wooyoung”, you interrupted the man with sleepy, still half-closed eyes, “Where's Hongjoong?”

He scratched the back of his hand. “He left when you fell asleep last night. All he said was that he had some matters to take care of and would be back early in the morning. He… isn't back yet?”

The weight of Wooyoung's words hit you like a train. If Hongjoong had promised to be back by morning, then where was he? The sun was already peeking through the curtains, casting long shadows across the room, and there was still no sign of him. A thousand thoughts raced through your mind as you tried to make sense of the situation.

You took a deep breath, trying to steady yourself as the panic threatened to overwhelm you. “No… he isn't back yet,” you murmured, your voice barely above a whisper. The words felt foreign on your tongue.

Wooyoung's expression shifted from confusion to concern. “Maybe he got held up somewhere? You know how he is… always taking on more than he should.”

You shook your head, refusing to accept that as the answer. “He wouldn't just leave without telling me. Not like this.”

But what if he would?

The unease in your chest grew stronger, the fear tightening its grip around your heart.

Wooyoung reached out, placing a comforting hand on your shoulder. “Let's not jump to conclusions. Maybe he's on his way back right now.”

But you could see the uncertainty in his eyes, the doubt he was trying so hard to hide. The pit in your stomach deepened, and you knew you couldn't just sit around waiting, hoping that everything would be okay.

“I need to find him,” you said, determination lacing your voice. You quickly turned on your heel, heading for the door without another word.

"Wait!" Wooyoung called after you, but you were already halfway out the door, your mind set on one thing: finding Hongjoong.

And then you pumped head first into San.

“Careful, little one. What's the-”

“Have you seen Hongjoong?” you blurted out, your voice trembling as you nearly collided with San.

San’s usually warm expression was replaced with a frown. “No, I haven’t. What’s going on? Why are you in such a rush?”

You hesitated, your mind racing. Should you tell them? Would they even understand? Hongjoong hasn't told them anything concrete about your situation as of now, and you weren't sure if you should tell them without him present.

“He’s… He’s not back yet. Wooyoung said he left last night, but he should’ve been back by now.”

San’s eyes widened. “And he hasn't said where he's going?”

You shook your head, fighting to keep your voice steady. “No. But I... I can’t just sit around and wait. I need to find him.”

San looked conflicted, glancing over at Wooyoung, who had followed you outside. “But you don’t know your way around the capital. You could get lost or… worse.”

You opened your mouth to protest, but San gently placed a hand on your arm, stopping you. “I get that you’re worried, but let’s wait a bit longer, okay? He wouldn’t want you getting into trouble trying to find him.”

The thought of sitting around doing nothing while Hongjoong was out there - somewhere - felt unbearable. He was shouldering all your problems alone, and it made you both guilty and mad that he didn't even tell you a single thing.

Reluctantly, you nodded, and San led you back inside the house. The atmosphere was heavy as the three of you settled into the living room, the clock on the wall ticking away the minutes in agonizing slowness.

“So… uh…”

Awkward silence set in, both men looking at each other concerned. Wooyoung, trying to lighten the mood, leaned back on the couch and stretched.

“Uh.. Did you know that San literally can't sleep without hugging something? And with something, I mean me - like, this man doesn't know how strong he is and literally suffocates me every night!”, he laughs.

You glanced at San, who looked somewhat mortified, a blush creeping up his neck. “Wooyoung…” he muttered, giving him a half-hearted glare. Unfortunately, his joke did nothing to soothe your nerves. If anything, it only made the awkwardness more palpable. “Uh, that's… interesting,” you mumbled, not really knowing what else to say. You liked them both, but conversations with them always felt like you were navigating a minefield, unsure of where to step.

Especially now that Hongjoong wasn't here with you.

San rubbed the back of his neck, clearly embarrassed. “It's not like that, really. It's just… a comfort thing, I guess.”

You fidgeted with the hem of your shirt, stealing glances at Wooyoung and San, who were both trying, in their own ways, to lighten the atmosphere. They were being so kind, so patient, but it only made you feel worse. You weren’t used to this. It was foreign, almost suffocating, in a way you couldn't quite understand.

Wooyoung cleared his throat, breaking the silence, seemingly ignoring that you still haven't said anything to his joking attempt to lighten the mood. “So, uh, have you had breakfast yet? I can make something if you’re hungry.”

You shook your head, though the thought of eating made your stomach twist in a knot. “No, I’m… I’m not really hungry.”

“Coffee, then?” San offered, trying to keep the conversation going. “Or tea? I think there’s still some left in the kitchen.”

You hesitated, not wanting to seem ungrateful. “Maybe… tea?” It felt like the right thing to say, even if you weren’t sure you could stomach anything right now.

San nodded, giving you a small, encouraging smile. “Tea it is. I’ll be right back.” He got up, his footsteps almost too loud in the quiet room, leaving you alone with Wooyoung. The silence between you and the other man was thick, both of you unsure of what to say. You could feel his gaze on you, but you kept your eyes fixed on the floor, afraid that if you looked up, he’d see just how out of sorts you really were.

Wooyoung shifted in his seat, clearly trying to come up with something to break the tension. “You know, I don’t think we’ve really had the chance to talk much… Just us,” he said.

“Yeah,” you murmured, feeling your cheeks heat up. You wanted to be able to talk to him, to say something normal, but the words just wouldn’t come. It was frustrating - feeling like you were locked inside your own head, even when you desperately wanted to reach out. He leaned back, a soft smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. “I get it, though. Meeting new people can be… overwhelming.”

You looked up at him. “It’s just… I’m not really used to this. To any of this,” you admitted quietly, the words slipping out before you could stop them.

Wooyoung nodded, his expression thoughtful. “Yeah, I figured. But hey, no pressure. We’re just… trying to make you feel welcome, you know? You're Hongjoong's girl, after all.”

“I know,” you replied quickly, feeling a pang of guilt. “I really appreciate it. I do. It’s just… hard, sometimes.”

He didn’t press you, just nodded again, his eyes soft. “It’s okay. We’re not in any rush. We’ve all got our own issues, you know?”

Before you could respond, San returned, holding a steaming mug of tea. He handed it to you with a small, reassuring smile. “Here you go. It’s chamomile - good for relaxing.”

“Thanks,” you whispered, wrapping your hands around the warm mug, letting the heat seep into your skin.

San settled back into his seat, the three of you once again falling into a somewhat awkward silence. You sipped your tea, the warmth soothing your throat, but it did little to calm the turmoil inside you. They were trying so hard, and that only made it worse. You could see the effort in every glance, every word. They didn’t know your past, your struggles, and you didn’t know how to tell them - didn’t even know if you should. And so you stayed quiet, trapped in your own thoughts, feeling like an outsider despite their best efforts.

“I guess… I’m just not good at this,” you finally said, your voice barely above a whisper.

“At what?” San asked gently, leaning forward slightly.

“Talking. Being around people. Making… friends I don’t know how to…” You trailed off, unable to find the right words.

Wooyoung chuckled softly, not in a mocking way, but as if he understood more than you realized. “You’re doing just fine. We’re not exactly pros at this either, you know. Most of the time, we’re just winging it.”

San nodded in agreement. “He’s right. It’s okay to not know what to say. We’re just… glad you’re here.”

Their words made something inside you ache. You still weren’t used to kindness without strings attached, to people caring just because. It felt undeserved, even after Hongjoong showed you that you did in fact deserve it, and that made you even more unsure of how to act.

“Thanks,” you whispered, feeling the weight of the moment pressing down on you. You wanted to be better at this, for them, for Hongjoong, but you didn’t know how.

Wooyoung grinned, nudging your shoulder lightly. “No need to thank us. We’re all in this together, right?”

You nodded, managing a small smile in return. It wasn’t much, but it was a start. And that was enough for now.

If someone would've told you that you'd ever be genuinely mad at Kim Hongjoong, you definitely would've laughed right in their face. Because Hongjoong was the kindest, sweetest man you'd ever known, so what would ever make you angry at him?

“Ah, look who's back,” was all you said as you heard the door close behind you.

You had never imagined feeling this way toward Hongjoong, the man who you grew to love so much. But now, as you stood in your shared living room, hearing the door close behind you, that anger burned hotter, fueled by the fear and helplessness that had consumed you all morning.

You didn't turn around to face him immediately, your hands clenched into fists at your sides. Your mind raced with thoughts, each one only making the knot in your chest tighter.

The sound of his footsteps approaching filled the room, and you could feel his presence behind you, close enough to touch. For a moment, you considered letting it go, just brushing it all under the rug like you’d done with so many things before. But this was different. This problem wasn't just his alone; this was your life too, your problems, your fears, and he had just walked away, leaving you in the dark.

Hongjoong hesitated. “I’m sorry I was gone for so long,” he began, but that was all it took to make you whirl around, your emotions spilling over.

“Sorry? You’re sorry?” The words came out harsher than you intended, but you couldn’t stop them. “You left without saying a word, Hongjoong. I don't even know where you went! You promised you’d be back by morning, and then you just… didn’t come back. It's almost midnight now! Do you have any idea what that did to me?”

His eyes widened, clearly taken aback by your outburst. “I didn’t mean to worry you,” he said, his voice softening, but you could see the guilt in his eyes. “I just had to take care of some things-”

“But why alone?” you interrupted, your voice trembling with a mix of anger and hurt. “Why do you always do this? You think you have to handle everything by yourself, like I’m some fragile thing that needs to be protected. But this is my problem too, Joong! I have a right to know, to help, to be there with you! Because…” your voice broke, and you looked at the floor as you wiped a tear away, “because the guilt is eating me alive, Joong. Without me… without me, none of this would have ever happened. It all began with me, so I should… I should take responsibility too.”

Hongjoong’s expression softened as he saw the tears welling up in your eyes. “Hey, hey, no,” he murmured, stepping closer and reaching out to cup your face, but you took a step back and shook your head silently.

“Don’t,” you whispered, your voice trembling. “Don’t act like this is just something we can brush aside, like it’s no big deal. You think you’re protecting me by keeping things from me, but you’re not. You’re only making it worse. I can’t keep doing this, Joong. I can’t keep pretending that it’s okay for you to shut me out. For you to shoulder everything alone.”

Hongjoong’s hand dropped to his side, his face crumbling with regret. “I never wanted to shut you out. I just… I didn’t want you to worry, didn’t want you to feel like you had to carry this burden. You're still so… hurt. I thought I was doing the right thing by handling it on my own.”

“But it’s not just your burden to carry!” you cried, your voice breaking. “We’re supposed to be in this together, Joong. You don’t get to decide what I can or can’t handle. You don’t get to just leave me in the dark, wondering if you’re okay, wondering if you’ll even come back. I was worried sick the whole day!”

His eyes were filled with a pain that mirrored your own, and for a moment, he looked like he didn’t know what to say, like he didn’t know how to make this right. “I’m sorry,” he whispered, his voice cracking. “I thought I was protecting you, but all I did was hurt you. I’m so, so sorry.”

You shook your head, tears spilling over your cheeks as you looked at him, at the man you loved more than anything in the world, the man who had somehow become a stranger to you in this moment.

“I'll be sleeping on the couch tonight,” you mumbled. “You may talk to me again when you're finally ready to include me in your plans. Until then… good night, Joong.”

“Y/N, wait-”

But the door shut close behind you before he could finish his sentence.

“H‐hey, I'm sorry, I really didn't want to eavesdrop, but I heard you two arguing...” San’s voice trailed off, his gaze meeting yours. The moment your tear-filled eyes locked with his, the emotions you’d been trying so hard to keep in check threatened to overflow.

For a second, you hesitated. You weren’t close to San - not really. He was still more of a stranger than a friend, someone who was kind and caring but still somewhat distant. But right now, you felt like you were drowning, and he was the only solid thing within your reach.

Without thinking, you moved towards him. As soon as you reached him, you hesitated again, but before you could pull back, San’s arms wrapped around you in a warm, protective embrace. You buried your face in his chest, and the dam inside you finally broke.

Tears poured down your cheeks as you cried against him, the sobs you’d been holding back all day finally breaking free. San stiffened for a moment, clearly caught off guard, but he quickly relaxed, his hold tightening slightly as he let you cry it out.

The warmth of his body, the steady rhythm of his heartbeat against your ear - it was the first comfort you’d felt all day. But even as he stood there comforting you, you still felt torn. The only person you'd ever fully confined in was Hongjoong. This was new territory for you, and it was both comforting and terrifying at the same time.

San didn’t say anything, just stood there quietly, holding you as you trembled in his arms. His hand moved slowly to your back, rubbing gentle circles as he tried to soothe you. His touch was hesitant, like he wasn’t sure if he was doing the right thing.

As your sobs subsided, leaving you with shaky breaths and red, tear-streaked cheeks, you slowly pulled back, wiping your eyes. You were still in his arms, but you felt the awkwardness creeping back in, and your gaze wandered again, not knowing where to look.

“I… I’m sorry,” you whispered, your voice hoarse from crying. “I didn’t mean to…”

San shook his head, his gaze softening. “You don’t have to apologize,” he said quietly. “You’ve been through a lot. It’s okay to break down sometimes.”

You managed a small, shaky smile, but the uncertainty was still there, lingering between you. “I just… I don’t know what to do, San. I feel so lost. Hongjoong… he means everything to me, but he’s shutting me out. I know he has only my best interest at heart, but… This is my story, too. And I don’t know how to handle that.”

San hesitated, as if weighing his words carefully. “I’m not gonna pretend I know exactly what you’re going through,” he began, “but I do know that Hongjoong cares about you - more than you probably realize. He’s just… used to handling things on his own. ”

You nodded.

“You’re… you’re really kind, San,” you murmured, your voice still trembling. “But we barely know each other. I don’t want to burden you with my problems.”

San’s expression softened even more, and he gave you a small, reassuring smile. “You’re not a burden. We all have our struggles, and sometimes it helps to have someone to lean on, even if it’s someone you’re not that close to… yet.” He added that last word with a gentle emphasis, as if offering a bridge to something more.

You looked up at him, meeting his eyes, and for the first time, you felt a small crack in the walls you've built around yourself.

And so, in the heat of the moment, you told him everything. San brought you to the living room, where he carefully sat you down and wrapped you in a blanket, and as Wooyoung joined you two, you told them everything.

About your marriage, your family, your town - and about the man who took it upon himself to save you from this cruel fate.

The tension between you and Hongjoong had been unbearable for days. Ever since that night, neither of you had spoken more than a few words to each other.

You had thrown yourself into anything that could keep your mind busy - cleaning, reading, anything to avoid thinking about the rift that had formed between you and the man you loved.

Then, one evening, as you sat alone in the living room, lost in thought, you heard the front door creak open. Hongjoong stepped in, his presence immediately filling the room with the weight of everything left unsaid. Your heart clenched at the sight of him - he looked exhausted, worn down by the stress of the past few days.

He stood there for a moment, just looking at you, as if trying to gauge your mood, before finally breaking the silence. “We need to talk.”

The words sent a chill down your spine, but you nodded, too tired to resist any longer. “Okay,” you said quietly, standing up from the couch and facing him.

Hongjoong swallowed, his throat bobbing as he struggled to find the right words. “I know you’re still angry at me,” he began, his voice low and strained. “And I understand why. I learned my lesson, Y/N. But now… now I wanna include you. If you… if you want that.”

You didn’t say anything, just watched him, your heart beating faster as he continued.

“There’s someone we need to see,” he said after a pause, his eyes searching for yours. “Someone who can help us, who can clear my name and… maybe, just maybe, give us a chance at a life without all this running and hiding.”

You blinked, not sure if you’d heard him correctly. “Who… who are you talking about?”

Hongjoong took a deep breath, as if steeling himself for what he was about to say. “The Queen,” he replied, his voice barely above a whisper. “She’s the only one powerful enough to undo this mess. I’ve been trying to arrange a meeting with her for days, but she’s… she’s not easy to reach. But now… now we can finally meet her.”

Your eyes widened in shock. “The Queen? As in… the Queen?”

The Queen was a figure of almost mythical power, someone so far removed from your world that the idea of asking for her help seemed as impossible as wishing on a star.

But Hongjoong’s expression was deadly serious, and you could see the determination burning in his eyes. He wasn’t just grasping at straws - he truly believed this was your last chance, your only hope to end the nightmare that had taken over your lives.

“The Queen,” he confirmed, his voice steady, though his hands were shaking slightly as he reached out to you.

“You know… I… I’ve worked for her for years, Y/N. I made her gowns, her dresses, the wedding dress she wore when she married the King… that was mine. She told me once, when I presented it to her, that if I ever needed anything, anything at all, she would do her best to help me. And I never thought I’d have to take her up on that offer, but now… I have no other choice.”

“The Queen… oh my God,” you whispered. “This is… insane.”

The reality of what Hongjoong was saying began to sink in, and your mind spun with the implications. The Queen, the most powerful woman in the kingdom, someone who could alter the course of your lives with just a single word… It was overwhelming, to say the least. You’d grown up hearing stories about her, tales of her beauty, wisdom, and strength. But those were just stories. The idea of meeting her, let alone asking for her help, seemed impossible. Yet here Hongjoong was, standing in front of you, serious and resolute.

“I know it sounds insane,” Hongjoong said, his voice breaking through your thoughts. “But this is our best chance, Y/N. Maybe our only chance. And we have evidence. The letters, remember?

“-And the scars on my body,” you whispered.

Hongjoong bawled his hands, his jaw clenching immediately. “You never… told me you had remaining scars.”

You nodded. “Ignoring them is easier. I try to… forget them entirely when I can.”

Without a word, he moved closer, wrapping an arm around your shoulders in a silent gesture of comfort. You leaned into him, the warmth of his body making you relax immediately.

After a moment, he cleared his throat, shifting the focus back to the task at hand. “We need to get ready,�� he said, his voice steady. “If we’re going to meet the Queen, we can’t go in looking like this.”

You raised an eyebrow. “What do you mean?”

“There’s no time to waste. I have to make something for us,” he said, determination flashing in his eyes. “We need to look elegant. I might not have my supplies here, but I can work with what we have.”

Your heart raced at the thought of him making outfits from scratch. “Are you sure you can do that?”

He nodded firmly, already moving toward the small room where you were temporarily staying in Wooyoung and San's house. “I’ll figure it out. Just give me a minute to gather some things.”

You watched as he began searching through the limited fabric and materials you had, his hands working swiftly. He rummaged through the closet, pulling out old sheets and any leftover clothing you had brought along. You felt a mixture of admiration and anxiety as you realized the weight of what he was attempting to do.

“What do you need me to do?” you asked, stepping closer to him.

“There's a shop nearby that sells fabrics,” he said, already rummaging through his pockets for money, “I need you to buy me some. Can you do that?”

Your heart raced at the urgency in his voice, but a wave of uncertainty washed over you. “Uh, sure, but... I’m not sure where it is,” you admitted, glancing out the window. The sun was starting to set, and you were acutely aware of the time slipping away.

“I’ll draw you a quick map,” he said, moving quickly to grab a scrap of paper and a pen. He sketched a simple layout, marking the route to the shop with clear, careful lines. “You can do this, Y/N. Just follow the map, and don’t let anyone see you.”

You nodded. “What do you need me to get?”

“Just some quality fabric, something that looks nice but isn’t too extravagant. Maybe something dark for me, something light and flowing for you,” he instructed, glancing up at you. “Can you remember that?”

You took a deep breath, nodding again. “Yes, I can do that.”

“Great,” he said, folding the paper and handing it to you. “I’ll need you back as soon as possible. We don’t have much time.”

“I’ll be quick,” you promised. As you turned to leave, you caught a glimpse of him, already immersed in his work, the fabric and thread strewn across the table like a chaotic canvas.

As you stepped outside, the cool evening air hit your face. You followed the map he had drawn. The shop wasn’t far, and soon you found yourself standing in front of a small fabric store, the sign creaking softly in the breeze.

Once inside, the overwhelming scent of textiles filled your senses. Bolts of fabric in every color and texture lined the walls, and the shopkeeper gave you a curious look as you stepped in. Remembering Hongjoong’s instructions, you immediately focused on finding something that fit his descriptions.

After scanning the shelves, you spotted a soft, flowing fabric in a light cream color that seemed perfect. You could almost picture how beautiful it would look on you. With that in mind, you also searched for a darker fabric for Hongjoong. You settled on a deep navy blue, rich yet understated, that would complement the cream tone perfectly.

With your choices made, you approached the counter, your heart pounding as you handed over the money Hongjoong had given you. The shopkeeper smiled and carefully wrapped the fabric.

“Thank you,” you said, clutching the bundle tightly as you headed back outside.

As you stepped through the door of Wooyoung and San's house, you saw Hongjoong still working diligently. He looked up, his eyes lighting up as he saw the fabric in your arms. “You did it!” he exclaimed, taking the fabric from you. “This is perfect!”

You smiled, relieved to see his excitement. “I hope it’s what you wanted. I wasn’t sure…”

“It’s exactly what I needed,” he said, moving quickly to lay the fabric out on the table. “Now, we can start putting everything together.”

Hongjoong spread the fabrics across the table, eyes gleaming with purpose. “This is going to be incredible,” he said, barely able to contain his excitement. You watched him with admiration as he quickly sketched designs in his notebook, his mind racing with ideas.

The first night stretched on, the room dimly lit by a single lamp casting shadows on the walls. You could hear the rhythmic hum of the sewing machine as Hongjoong lost himself in the work.

Time blurred as the night turned into dawn, and you found yourself falling in and out of sleep. The only sounds were the soft whir of the machine and the occasional rustle of fabric. You’d occasionally catch Hongjoong stealing glances at you, and though he was clearly exhausted, there was a fire in his eyes that wouldn't die down.

By morning, the first pieces of your outfits began to take shape. “Look at this,” Hongjoong said, holding up the bodice of your gown. His excitement was contagious, and you couldn't help but smile. “It’s coming together beautifully, don’t you think?”

“It’s stunning, Hongjoong,” you replied, your heart swelling with admiration. “I can't wait to see the final piece.”

As he set it down and returned to his work, you noticed how hard he had to concentrate just to keep his eyes open. He was clearly pushing himself to the limit. You wanted to urge him to take a break, to rest for a moment, but you hesitated.

Hongjoong moved with practiced precision, cutting and sewing and cutting and sewing; repeating the same routine over and over again.

Yet, as the hours ticked by, his pace slowed down more and more.

“Hongjoong,” you finally said, breaking the comfortable silence. “Maybe you should take a break. You’ve been at this for so long.”

He paused, looking at you with those tired yet determined eyes. “I can’t stop now. We’re so close. I just need to finish your gown, and then I’ll rest, I promise.”

You sighed. “Okay, but promise me you’ll take care of yourself too. I don’t want you collapsing from exhaustion when we meet the Queen.”

A soft chuckle escaped his lips, but the laughter quickly faded as he nodded. “I promise, Y/N. Just a bit longer.”

A bit longer turned out to be one more day full of work.

On the evening of the second day, as the sun dipped below the horizon, Hongjoong finally stepped back, surveying the gown he had made for you. The fabric flowed beautifully, a soft cream color with delicate embroidery that accentuates your figure. It was breathtaking.

“Look,” he said, gesturing to the dress. “It’s finished.”

“It doesn't matter how many dresses of yours I'll see, I'll always be amazed… you're so talented, Joongie,” you said, slowly stepping between his legs and carefully combing through his hair.

Hongjoong slung his arms around your waist and laid his head on your stomach, closing his eyes for a few minutes.

You took a deep breath, letting the warmth of his reassurance settle within you. “So, how exactly will we get to the palace?” you asked, trying to shift the focus from your worries to practical matters.

He pulled away slightly, his eyes brightening as he began to explain. “The Queen’s servants are discreet and efficient. After I sent word to her, she agreed to send a carriage for us. It should arrive tomorrow morning.”

“Tomorrow?” The reality sent your heart racing again. “Do we have everything ready? What if something goes wrong?”

Hongjoong chuckled softly, trying to lighten the mood. “Don’t worry. Everything is in place. The only thing we need to do is stay calm.”

The following morning arrived way too fast. You woke to the sound of birds chirping outside and a warm breeze entering your room through the window.

Hongjoong was already up, carefully folding the outfits he had poured his heart into over the past two days. You stood up and approached him, placing a gentle hand on his back. “Are you ready for this?” you asked softly.

He nodded. “As ready as I’ll ever be,” he replied, offering you a small smile.

You gave him a reassuring nod yourself, though your own nerves were starting to fray. The idea of meeting the Queen, of putting your fate in her hands, felt surreal. But there was no turning back now. You quickly changed into the gown Hongjoong had created for you, the fabric cool against your skin, yet surprisingly comforting. It fit you perfectly, accentuating your form in all the right ways, the soft cream color making you feel both elegant and ethereal.

Though the dress Hongjoong created back in your hometown, the one so blue it reminded you if the sea itself, would always be your favorite, this one was nonetheless nothing but breathtaking.

When you finally emerged, Hongjoong’s breath caught in his throat. He stared at you for a long moment, a proud smile stealing its way on his lips. “You look… beautiful,” he murmured, his voice thick with emotion. “Just like I imagined.”

You smiled, stepping closer to him. “You look amazing, too.”

Hongjoong's gaze softened as you stepped closer. All that mattered was him, standing before you, his eyes tracing every curve and line of your face.

You reached out, your fingers trembling slightly as you brushed a stray lock of hair away from his forehead. His breath hitched at the simple touch, and you could see the raw emotion in his eyes, the love, the desire, and the lingering regret of the days you'd spent apart.

His hands found your waist, pulling you gently but firmly against him. The heat of his body against yours sent a shiver down your spine, and you felt your heart pounding in your chest,

Hongjoong’s eyes searched yours, silently asking for permission, for reassurance. You didn’t need to say a word - your eyes told him everything he needed to know. Slowly, deliberately, he leaned in, his lips hovering just a breath away from yours. The anticipation was almost unbearable.

When his lips finally met yours, the world around you seemed to disappear. The kiss was slow, almost hesitant at first, as if he was savoring every second. His lips were soft, warm, and as they moved against yours, you felt a deep, aching need stirring within you, a need that had been building for days, weeks, months.

Your hands found their way to his shoulders, fingers digging into the fabric of his shirt as you pulled him closer, deepening the kiss. Hongjoong responded in kind, his grip on your waist tightening as his other hand tangled in your hair, tilting your head back to gain better access. The kiss grew more intense, more passionate, as if all the emotions you'd both been holding back were pouring out in this one, desperate act.

You could taste the urgency on his lips, feel the way his heart was racing just as fast as yours. His tongue brushed against yours, sending a wave of heat through your body that made you feel like you were melting into him. The kiss was everything - sweet and tender, yet fierce and consuming.

Hongjoong’s hands roamed your back, pulling you even closer, until there was no space left between you. You could feel the strength in his arms, the way his muscles tensed under your touch, and it only made you want him more.

When you finally broke apart, both of you were breathing heavily, your foreheads resting against each other as you tried to catch your breath. Hongjoong’s eyes were half-lidded, his lips slightly swollen from the intensity of the kiss. He looked at you with an expression that was equal parts awe and desire, as if he couldn’t quite believe you were real, that this very moment here was real.

“I love you, Y/N,” he whispered, his voice rough with emotion. “I love you so much.”

Your heart swelled at his words, and you cupped his face in your hands, brushing your thumbs gently across his cheeks. “I love you too, Hongjoong. I always have. I always will.”

He smiled, a soft, genuine smile that made your heart skip a beat. And then, without another word, he leaned in and kissed you again, slow and deep, as if he had all the time in the world to show you just how much he loved you, how much you meant to him.

“You ready?” he asked as he took a step back. You instantly missed his lips on yours, but you nodded nonetheless.

He offered you his hand, and you took it without hesitation.

As you stepped aside, clearly overdressed in this rural neighborhood, the carriage was already waiting, a sleek, black vehicle with the Queen’s crest emblazoned on the side. The horses were well-groomed, their coats gleaming in the sunlight. A stern-looking driver stood by, his expression unreadable as he held the door open for you. With one last deep breath, you and Hongjoong climbed inside, settling onto the plush seats.

The carriage began to move slowly, the sound of the wheels clattering against the cobblestones filled the silence. You glanced at Hongjoong, who was staring out the window, his jaw clenched.

For a while, neither of you spoke. You simply watched the world pass by outside.

Finally, Hongjoong broke the silence, his voice low and contemplative. “Do you remember the first time we met?”

The question caught you off guard, and you turned to look at him, surprised by the sudden change in topic. But as you met his gaze, you could see the hint of a smile tugging at the corners of his lips, a softness in his eyes that you hadn’t seen in days.

The sudden shift in conversation caught you off guard, but a small smile crept onto your face as the memory came flooding back. “Of course, I remember,” you replied, chuckling softly. “How could I forget that? Ah, Django… I miss him… And Benji… oh God, my little Benji… I hope they're all well.”

“They are, my love. I'm sure they are.”

And then, as the carriage rounded a final bend, the palace finally came into view. It was a magnificent structure, with its white marble walls glowing in the fading light. The Queen’s residence was every bit as awe-inspiring as the stories had said, its towering spires reaching towards the heavens.

Your breath caught in your throat at the sight, and you felt Hongjoong’s grip on your hand tighten.

As the carriage drew closer, you could see a group of palace guards standing right outside the gates, their armor gleaming under the soft glow of the lanterns that lined the pathway to the grand entrance. The carriage came to a smooth stop, and the driver emerged, opening the door for you and Hongjoong.

You took a deep breath. Hongjoong stepped out first, offering his hand to help you down. As your feet touched the ground, you felt a shiver run down your spine.

The grand doors of the palace opened with a slow, deliberate creak, revealing a tall, elegant woman dressed in a deep burgundy gown. Her presence was commanding, yet her expression was kind as she approached.

“Welcome,” she said, her voice smooth and authoritative. “The Queen has been expecting you.”

You exchanged a quick glance with Hongjoong, who gave you a small nod, before you both followed the woman inside. The interior of the palace was just as breathtaking as the exterior, with high ceilings adorned with various paintings and chandeliers that sparkled like diamonds. The floor beneath your feet was made of polished marble, and the soft click of your shoes were echoing through the halls.

As you walked deeper into the palace, the grandeur only increased. Walls were lined with portraits of past kings and queens, their eyes seeming to follow you as you passed.

Finally, you were led to a pair of ornately carved doors, which the woman pushed open with ease. Beyond them was a grand chamber, bathed in the warm light of a thousand candles. At the far end of the room, seated on a throne that seemed to be carved out of pure gold, was the Queen herself.

She was as regal as you had imagined, with an aura of quiet power that made the room feel smaller, the air more charged. Her hair was a rich, dark color, intricately braided and adorned with jewels that sparkled with every movement. Her eyes, sharp and intelligent, fixed on you and Hongjoong as you entered the room.

“Your Majesty,” Hongjoong said, bowing deeply before you had a chance to follow his lead.

The Queen’s gaze softened as she looked at Hongjoong, a small smile playing on her lips. “Rise, Hongjoong,” she said, her voice warm but firm. “It has been a long time.”

Hongjoong straightened up, but his grip on your hand tightened. You could feel the tension in his body as he struggled to maintain his composure. The Queen’s eyes flicked to you, her expression unreadable. “I see you have brought someone with you, Hongjoong. Please, both of you, come closer.”

You nodded, bowing deeply in respect. “It’s an honor to meet you, Your Majesty,” you said, trying to keep your voice steady despite the anxiety that almost made you fall ill.

The Queen studied you for a moment before her gaze returned to Hongjoong. “I understand you’ve come to ask for my help?” she said, her voice carrying the weight of authority.

“Yes, Your Majesty,” Hongjoong replied. “We’ve found ourselves in desperate need of your help. I’ve brought evidence to prove our case, but… there is also something that only Y/N can show you.”

The Queen raised an eyebrow, clearly intrigued. “And what is this evidence?”

Hongjoong hesitated, glancing at you before speaking. “Your Majesty, before I ask Y/N to show you the evidence, I feel it’s important for you to understand her story - our story - in its entirety.”

The Queen nodded, her expression growing more serious as she settled back into her seat, indicating for him to continue.

Hongjoong took a long, deep breath. “Y/N came from a decent, middle-class family. They lived comfortably - not wealthy, but certainly not poor. Her future should have been secure, perhaps with a marriage that would maintain or even improve her standing in society. But things took a dark turn.”

He paused, glancing at you as if seeking your permission to continue. You gave him a small nod, and he went on, his voice heavy with emotion.

“Her father… he made a decision that changed everything. He married her off to a man well below her status - a drunkard, a violent brute. This man - he was no husband. He was a monster. He raped and beat her almost every day, treating her worse than a common servant. She was trapped in a nightmare, until she… until she had to kill him in self defense to save the both of us.”

“And to protect me,” you chimed in, your desperate gaze finding the woman before you before you continued: “J-joong- I mean, Hongjoong took the blame upon himself. He… he was about to be beheaded for a crime he didn't commit, so I… I took it upon myself to release him and flee with him.”

“We are here to plead our innocence, and to ask for a royal pardon of you, your Majesty,” Hongjoong spoke, standing proud and tall beside you, like the safe haven he always was for you.

“A royal pardon, you say?” she asked.

“Yes. Since no one in our town bothered to even investigate, we ask for you to review all evidence and overturn the decision.”

The Queen’s expression remained inscrutable, giving away nothing of her thoughts. Silence stretched in the grand chamber, broken only by the faint crackling of the candles and the distant echo of footsteps in the vast corridors beyond.

At last, the Queen rose from her throne, the jewels in her hair catching the light as she moved. She descended the steps from the throne with grace

“I can see the truth in your eyes, but understand this - granting a royal pardon is not a decision I take lightly. There must be undeniable proof,” she said.

She turned to you, her sharp gaze assessing. “Y/N, I need you to show me the evidence Hongjoong mentioned. Whatever it is, it must be enough to convince me beyond doubt.”

You reached into your cloak, pulling out a stack of worn, yellowed letters tied together with a frayed ribbon. Your hands shook as you untied them, revealing the harsh, almost frenzied handwriting of your late husband. You could feel the Queen’s eyes on you, her gaze intense, as you stepped forward and placed the letters in her outstretched hand.

“These letters,” you said, struggling to keep your voice steady, “are from my deceased husband. In them, he admits to everything - his abuse, his threats, and… even his intent to kill me one day. They are his own words, Your Majesty. Written in moments of drunken rage, or cruel clarity. He was proud of what he did, and he never hid that from anyone. But he was also reckless, and he left these behind, never thinking they might be used against him.”

The Queen’s expression remained unreadable once again as she began to read the letters. The room was silent save for the sound of rustling paper. With each page she turned, you felt your heart pound louder, your hands clasping Hongjoong’s tighter.

After what felt like an eternity, the Queen looked up from the letters. Her gaze was more somber now, tinged with something that might have been pity, or perhaps understanding.

“These letters are indeed compelling,” she said slowly, “but it alone is not enough. The word of a dead man, though through his own admission, cannot fully clear your names. I need more.”

You hesitated, biting your lip. “Your Majesty,” you began, choosing your words carefully, “the whole town knew what was happening. They turned a blind eye, because… because they didn’t want to get involved. I don’t know if I can rely on their testimony. But… my parents, though they looked away for so long, showed great remorse before I fled. They knew what was happening, and they did nothing to stop it. I… though I can never reconcile with them, I have no choice but to trust them this one last time.”

The Queen’s gaze softened slightly as she regarded you. “And you believe they will speak the truth, even now?”

You nodded, though you felt a knot of uncertainty in your stomach. “Yes, Your Majesty. They have to.”

The Queen considered this for a long moment before nodding slowly. “Very well. I will send for your parents and have them brought here to testify. But… there's another thing you want to show me, right?”

You swallowed hard. The letters had made an impact, but the Queen needed more, something undeniable. Your heart raced as you prepared to reveal the evidence that you had hidden for so long, even from yourself.

“Yes, Your Majesty,” you replied, your voice trembling. “There is… one more thing I can show you.”

The Queen's eyes narrowed slightly. You hesitated, glancing at Hongjoong, who was watching you, his eyes telling more than words ever could. His presence gave you the strength to go on.

“My body bears the scars of my husband's cruelty,” you said quietly, “Scars that… tell the story of what he did to me.”

For a small second, something in her eyes flickered - perhaps sympathy, perhaps disgust at the thought of such brutality. But it disappeared as fast as it appeared, and she composed herself quickly. “Very well,” she said, her voice low and measured. “Show me.”

But before you could move, the Queen raised a hand to stop you. “Hongjoong,” she addressed him firmly, “you must wait outside. As you are not married, it would be inappropriate for you to remain here.”

Hongjoong looked like he wanted to protest, but he caught himself, understanding his words would make no impact. He nodded and gave you a reassuring look. “I’ll be right outside,” he said softly. “You’re not alone.”

You nodded, trying to offer him a smile. “Thank you, Hongjoong.”

As he was escorted out of the room, the Queen waited until the door closed before turning back to you. The room felt emptier without Hongjoong by your side, but you tried to stay calm nonetheless.

As he left the room, the Queen gestured to a few of her attendants, and a group of maids quickly approached. Your dress was elegant, more elaborate than you were used to, and you realized you would need help to reveal the scars that were hidden beneath its layers.

The maids moved with practiced efficiency, unfastening the intricate clasps and loosening the delicate fabric of your gown. You felt a wave of vulnerability wash over you as they carefully peeled back the layers, revealing the faint, jagged lines etched into your skin.

The Queen stepped closer, her gaze intense as she examined the marks. She didn’t speak, but her silence was heavy.

After a long moment, she stepped back, her eyes closing for a moment. “These scars… they cannot be ignored.” She turned to one of her attendants, a stern-looking guard who had been standing by the door. “Send for a scrivener,” she commanded. “These letters and the scars on her body must be documented.”

The man bowed and hurried out of the chamber, leaving you alone with the Queen and the maids, who carefully refastened your dress. The Queen’s eyes softened slightly as she looked at you. “Hongjoong has been a long confidante of mine, so naturally, he has my trust” she said, “But there is still a process that must be followed. The evidence will be recorded, and your parents and anyone else willing to testify will be brought before me. Until then, I must uphold the law.”

Once the scrivener arrived and began documenting the evidence, the Queen addressed you again. “You will be given quarters where you can rest,” she said, her tone kind but firm. “And I will ensure that you have everything you need until the trial begins. Be strong, Y/N. The truth will come to light.”

You bowed deeply. “Thank you, Your Majesty.”

And with that, the Queen turned and left the chamber, leaving you alone with your thoughts.

Now all you could do was wait.

“Y/N,” Hongjoong's voice reached you the moment you stepped into the tower room. But before you could even respond, you found yourself distracted by your surroundings. For a place meant to imprison you, the room was unexpectedly luxurious - far more so than anything you'd ever experienced. The walls were draped with rich tapestries and the bed was covered in soft linens. A large, plush rug covered the stone floor, and the air smelled faintly of lavender.

You paused, blinking in surprise at the sight. This was supposed to be your prison? It surely made you feel out of place, like it belonged to a royal guest chamber rather than a cell.

"Are you alright?" Hongjoong’s voice broke through your thoughts, concern etched in his features as he took a step closer to you. But before you could answer, the door behind you creaked open again, and a small group of maids entered.

“Your bath is ready, my lady,” one of them said with a polite bow, her voice soft yet firm. “Please, come with us.”

My lady?

You looked at Hongjoong, startled and confused. He gave you an encouraging nod, though he looked just as confused as you.

“Go on,” he said gently. “I’ll be here when you’re done.”

Reluctantly, you allowed the maids to lead you away, down a small corridor that connected to an adjoining room. The room was even more elaborate, with a large copper tub set in the center, already filled with steaming water that scented the air with rose petals and herbs. Thick, fluffy towels were neatly stacked nearby, and a selection of fine soaps and oils were arranged on a small table besides.

They helped you quickly undress and step into the bath. The warm water immediately melted away the tension from your muscles. As they poured fragrant oils into the water, your eyes closed and you sank deeper into the water. The maids worked in silence, their hands gentle as they washed your hair and scrubbed your skin with fine soaps. Eventually, the bath was over, and you were lifted from the water, wrapped in a thick, warm towel. The maids dried you off and led you to a big mirror where they brushed your hair and dressed you in a white nightgown that felt impossibly soft against your skin.

Once they were done, they stepped back, quietly observing you. You glanced at your reflection in the mirror, almost not recognizing yourself. The nightgown was simple yet elegant, the white fabric almost transparent against your skin. It flowed down to your ankles, delicate lace trimming the neckline and sleeves. It made you look delicate and almost… sensual.

Still deep in thought, you were guided back to the main room where Hongjoong was waiting. As you stepped into the room, you saw him pacing near the window, lost in thought. The moment he heard your footsteps, he turned around, and his breath hitched in his throat when he saw you.

For a long, long moment, he simply stared at you, his eyes wide as they traveled over your figure. His usual calm and collected demeanor seemed to crumble as a faint blush colored his cheeks. He quickly looked away, his jaw tightening as he struggled to maintain his composure.

“You-” Hongjoong began, his voice strained as he took a step closer, his gaze flicking back to you before quickly averting again. “You look… beautiful.” His words were quiet, and you could see the internal battle playing out within him as he tried to keep his emotions in check.

You could see the way his eyes darkened whenever he sneaked a glance at you, something that made your heart skip a beat. His fingers twitched as if he wanted to reach out and touch you but was holding himself back. The air between you was thick with unspoken tension.

Hongjoong cleared his throat, attempting to regain his composure, but the way he avoided your gaze told you that he was struggling. “I… I didn't mean to stare,” he muttered, his voice rougher than usual. "I just… You-”

You took a step closer. Hongjoong's eyes snapped to yours, and for a moment, you saw a flash of something raw and intoxicating in his expression - something that sent a shiver down your spine, something that made your mouth dry and your heart beat faster.

“Hongjoong,” you said softly, the sound of his name breaking the silence that had settled between you. “I'm fine. You can-”

“Sir, your bath is prepared as well,” one of the maids said with a polite bow. “Please allow us to assist you.”

Hongjoong stiffened slightly at the offer, clearly taken aback. “Uh, that's not necessary,” he stammered, his usual confidence faltering as a blush crept up his neck. “I can manage on my own.”

The maid, seemingly unfazed, simply nodded. “Of course, sir. But if you require anything, we will be right outside.” With that, she and the others gracefully exited the room, leaving the two of you alone once more.

Hongjoong let out a quiet sigh of relief, running a hand through his hair as he glanced back at you. “Well, I suppose I should... take that bath now,” he said.

You nodded, offering him a small smile. “I'll wait here,” you said softly, trying to ease the tension in the room.

He stood there for another moment, as if he wanted to say something more, but instead, he simply gave you a nod before retreating into the bathroom. The door clicked shut behind him, leaving you alone with your thoughts.

Desperately, you tried to distract yourself from the fact that the man of your dreams was completely bare just a few feet away. But just after a few minutes, you had to admit that it was pointless, and so, your feet took you to the bathroom once again.

You hesitated outside the door, your heart pounding in your chest. You knew this was a bad idea, that you were crossing a line, but curiosity got the better of you. Slowly, you pushed the door open just enough to slip inside.

Hongjoong was sitting in the tub, his back to the door, the water lapping gently around his figure. Steam filled the room, the scent of the same herbs and soaps you previously used in the air. His head was slightly bowed, his eyes closed, and he seemed lost in thought, completely unaware of your presence.

For a moment, you just stood there, silently watching him. His usually sharp features were entirely relaxed, his shoulders sacked as he soaked in the water. You couldn’t help but admire the way the droplets clung to his skin, the way the muscles in his back moved with each breath he took.

Taking a deep breath to steady yourself, you silently crossed the room. The soft pads of your feet made no noise on the stone floor as you approached the tub. Without thinking, you reached for a cloth that was hanging nearby, dipping it into the warm water.

He still hadn’t noticed you as you knelt beside the tub. Your hand hovered for a moment before you gathered the courage to press the cloth gently against his back.

Hongjoong stiffened immediately, his eyes snapping open as he realized someone was there. He turned his head sharply, his eyes wide as he met your gaze.

“Y/N?” His voice was breathless, and he immediately tried to shield his naked body from you. “What are you doing?”

You bit your lip, trying to fight back the blush that was creeping up your cheeks. “I thought… I thought I’d help you relax,” you said softly, your voice trembling with nerves.

Hongjoong’s gaze flicked down to the cloth in your hand and then back to your face. His expression was unreadable, but you could see the way his breathing had quickened, the way his muscles tensed under your touch.

“Y/N… you don’t have to…” He trailed off, his voice faltering as you began to gently scrub his back, your movements slow and careful. You could feel the tension in his body slowly melting away under your touch.

He let out a shaky breath, his head dropping forward again as he allowed himself to relax. “You don't have to do this,” he murmured, though he didn't sound entirely convinced either.

You smiled a little, continuing your work, the cloth gliding over his skin in soothing circles. “Maybe not,” you whispered, “but I wanted to.”

Hongjoong’s breathing was uneven, each exhale shaky as you worked your way across his shoulders, the cloth tracing the lines of his muscles. You could see the way his body tensed, his fists clenching against the edge of the tub as if he was trying to control himself.

“Y/N,” he murmured, his voice low and rough, almost pleading. “W-we should really stop… I-”

You gently pressed a finger against his lips, silencing him almost instantly. “Hongjoong,” you whispered, “I want to… I’m ready.”

His eyes found yours, wide with surprise and something else - something deeper. His gaze searched yours, as if he was trying to find any hint of uncertainty, any reason to stop this before it went too far.

But you didn’t waver. You had been through so much, had faced so many demons from your past, and now, standing here with him, you felt a sense of clarity you hadn’t in a long time. You wanted this, wanted him - wanted to break down the walls you had built so carefully around your heart.

Slowly, you leaned in closer, your breath mingling with his as you pressed a soft kiss to his temple. His eyes fluttered shut at the contact, a shiver running through his body. You could feel his resistance, the way he fought to hold himself back, but there was also something in the way he leaned into your touch, a silent plea for more.

Your lips traveled from his temple to his ear, brushing against the sensitive skin as you whispered, “I know you try to hold yourself back for my sake. But I’m not scared, Joongie. Not anymore.”

Hongjoong’s eyes were locked on yours, the intensity in his gaze making your breath hitch. Without breaking eye contact, he stood, water cascading off his naked, sculpted body, droplets glistening on his skin in the soft, dim light of the room.

Before you could say anything, his arms wrapped around you, lifting you effortlessly from where you stood. Your breath caught in your throat as he pulled you close, his wet skin soaking through your clothes as he carried you out the room.

He reached the bed and gently laid you down on the soft sheets, the fabric cool against your heated skin. You looked up at him, your heart racing as he knelt beside you, droplets of water still clinging to his skin, his hair damp and falling into his eyes. He was completely bare, his body on full display, and yet his focus was entirely on you.

Slowly, he leaned down, his lips brushing against yours in a slow, passionate kiss. His hand slid up your side, fingers grazing your ribs, leaving a trail of fire in their wake. The kiss deepened, his tongue teasing yours, fighting your own in a battle of dominance you quickly lost.

Hongjoong’s hand moved under your gown, and with a gentle tug, he began to lift it, his fingertips brushing against your skin as he pulled it over your head. The cool air hit your newly exposed skin, making you shiver, but the heat of his gaze warmed you instantly. He paused for a moment, taking in the sight of you, his eyes so full of love and lust it made you ache.

“You’re so, so beautiful,” he murmured, his voice low and rough. He leaned in again, his lips trailing down your neck, leaving soft, lingering kisses as he made his way to your collarbone. Each kiss sent a jolt of electricity through you, your breath coming in shallow gasps as you felt him explore your body with his lips, his hands, his entire being.

He moved lower, his hands sliding over your skin, slowly. You shivered under his touch, your hands gripping the sheets as you tried to steady yourself, your heart pounding in your chest.

His hands moved delicately, tracing the lines of your body, exploring every curve, every dip, every inch of your skin. He was in no rush, savoring it all; every moment, every touch, every breath you took. The way he looked at you, the way he touched you, it was as if he was worshiping you, as if you were the most precious thing in the world to him.

“Y/N,” he whispered against your lips, his voice shaky, filled with emotion. “I want this to be perfect for you… for us.”

You reached up, cupping his face in your hands, your eyes meeting his with a soft, reassuring smile. “It already is,” you murmured, your voice filled with the same emotion you saw reflected in his eyes. “You make everything perfect for me, Joongie.”

He smiled, a tender, almost shy smile that made your heart flutter. “I’ve wanted this for so long… wanted you for so long,” he confessed, his voice barely above a whisper as he pressed his forehead against yours.

“I know,” you whispered back, your fingers brushing through his damp hair. “I’ve wanted this too… I’ve wanted you.”

His breath caught in his throat, his eyes darkening with something deeper, more intense. “I’m scared… of hurting you,” he admitted, his voice trembling slightly. “Of moving too fast.”

You shook your head gently, your hands moving to his chest, feeling the rapid beat of his heart beneath your palm. “You could never hurt me,” you assured him softly. “I trust you, Hongjoong. I’m ready… because I know these hands of yours could never hurt me like he did.”

He closed his eyes, taking a deep breath as he tried to steady himself. When he opened them again, they were filled with an intensity that took your breath away. “I want to love you… properly, Y/N.”

You smiled, your heart swelling with love and adoration for the man above you. “Then love me, Hongjoong,” you whispered, your voice trembling with anticipation. “Love me the way you’ve always wanted to. Make me yours.”

He chuckled, before slowly lowering himself into you. “Silly woman. You've been mine the moment I met you.”

If anyone would've told you you'd ever see your parents on their knees, begging for mercy in front of you, you would've laughed right in their face.

But here you were. Witnessing it at this very moment.

Well, technically it wasn't in front of you - but the Queen, who was looking at them with intense, cold eyes.

You stood to the side, Hongjoong right beside you, close enough to witness every detail, yet far enough to keep the emotional distance you needed to not break down in tears.

The Queen's voice cut through the silence. “You have been called before the court to deliver your testimony. If you lie, it will have severe consequences,” she said, her tone leaving no room for argument. “We have gathered here today because a man was killed. Without any evidence or witness testimony, it was decided that Kim Hongjoong was the one responsible and would be hanged for it. Now, after careful investigation, I and everyone else here is fairly confident that this is not what happened. The man who died abused his wife L/N Y/N for close to a decade. And everyone supposedly knew. On the night of the alleged crime, it is to be assumed he came home to beat her once again. Kim Hongjoong was just there at the wrong time. Y/N had to kill her husband in self defense to protect the both of them,” the Queen continued.

The whole room was deadly silent. Only the occasional sobs of your mother could be heard.

“Now I ask of you to truthfully answer my questions”, she said, looking at your parents directly, “is it true that you knew your daughter was getting abused?”

The silence that followed the Queen's question was suffocating, each second stretching into an eternity. Your father kept his gaze fixed on the floor, his hands trembling slightly as he knelt beside your mother.

You remembered the last time you saw him. The moment where he apologized, where you saw the pain in his eyes. But would he also admit to his faults in public?

The Queen's eyes bore into them. She was not just asking for a simple answer; she was demanding the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth. And there was no escaping it.

Your father was the first to speak, his voice barely above a whisper, rough and strained. “We… we knew,” he confessed, the words stumbling out of him like a boulder finally giving way to gravity. “We knew what was happening, Your Majesty.”

A collective gasp rippled through the courtroom, but you remained still, your heart pounding in your chest as the truth you had been denied for so long was finally laid bare. Your mother’s sobs grew louder, her hands covering her face as if to shield herself from the reality of what was happening.

The Queen’s gaze did not waver. “And yet, you did nothing to help her?” she pressed, her tone hardening. “You allowed your daughter to suffer for years, without lifting a finger to protect her? Knowing that one day she could possibly be killed?”

Your mother finally lifted her head, her face streaked with tears. “We… we were afraid,” she stammered, her voice shaking with emotion. “We didn’t know what to do… We thought… we thought it would be worse if we intervened.”

A bitter taste filled your mouth as you listened to their excuses. They had left you to fend for yourself in a nightmare, and had turned their backs on you when you needed them the most.

Even after you tried for months, years to come to terms with their betrayal, it still hurt deeply.

The Queen narrowed her eyes, but her expression gave nothing away. “You thought it would be worse?” she repeated, “Worse than watching your daughter endure unimaginable suffering? Worse than allowing her to be beaten, night after night, while you did nothing?”

Your mother’s tears flowed uncontrollably now, her sobs wracking her body as she nodded, unable to form any coherent response. Your father remained silent, his head hanging low, as if the weight of his guilt was too much to bear.

The Queen’s gaze flicked to you for a moment, her expression softening just slightly as she took in the sight of you standing there, silent and strong beside Hongjoong.

This wasn't the first time you saw that expression on her face, and for a second you were left wondering if, maybe, she understood your pain. Really understood.

From woman to woman, from victim to victim.

“Your Majesty,” your father spoke again, his voice hoarse with emotion. “We… we failed her. We know that now. We were wrong, and we are deeply sorry.”

For a second, his eyes found yours. And though you knew you could never forgive them, you saw nothing but love and guilt in your father's eyes.

Maybe in another life, where you as a woman would have more rights, you all could have been a happy, normal family.

Maybe.

“But… There is one last thing I want to do for my daughter,” he whispered. “Your Majesty, if I may…?”

Her gaze flicked towards you. You clutched Hongjoong’s hands tighter, before giving her a final nod.

“Go on,” she said.

Your father hesitated for a moment, gathering his courage, before speaking again. “I brought them here, Your Majesty,” he said, his voice trembling with emotion. “The rest of the people who stayed quiet. I brought all of them here today.”

The Queen raised an eyebrow, her gaze flicking between your father and you. The courtroom seemed to hold its breath, waiting for her decision. Your eyes widened and you immediately felt a lump form in your throat.

Finally, the Queen nodded, “Bring them in.”

She turned towards the grand double doors at the back of the room, and with a slight motion of her hand, the guards opened them. One by one, a dozen people began to file in, their faces pale and solemn. You recognized each one of them - neighbors, former friends, even the local shopkeepers who had all turned a blind eye to your bruises and hushed cries for help. They looked as though they were walking to their own execution, eyes downcast, hands desperately clutching their clothes.

As they entered, they arranged themselves in a line before you, and then, as if guided by an unspoken command, they all began to bow. The sight of it - the people who had once ignored your pain now bowing before you, in front of the Queen herself - struck you like a blow to the heart.

You tightened your grip on Hongjoong’s hand, your breath hitching as the overwhelming weight of the moment began to settle over you. Tears welled up in your eyes, and no matter how much you tried to hold them back, they eventually began to spill over, silently tracing lines down your cheeks. Hongjoong’s hand remained warm and steady in yours, his presence grounding you as you struggled to process the scene before you.

Slowly, an elderly woman who had been your neighbor for years, stepped forward. Her voice trembled as she spoke. “Y/N… we have no excuse for what we did, or rather, what we didn’t do. We failed you, just as your parents did. We saw the signs, but we chose to look away, to pretend it wasn’t our business. And for that… we are truly sorry.”

As everyone in line took their turn to speak, offering their apologies, their regrets, and their shame, the emotions you had been holding back for so long finally broke free. You wept openly now, the sound of your sobs filling the otherwise silent courtroom. These were the apologies you had never expected to hear, the recognition of your suffering that had been denied to you for so many years.

Hongjoong wrapped his arm around your shoulders, pulling you close, and you leaned into him, burying your face in his neck. The tears kept coming, and you let them.

After each person spoke to you, they all remained bowed, waiting for your response. The Queen, too, seemed to be waiting, her gaze fixed on you.

You took a shaky breath, wiping your tears with the back of your hand as you tried to find the right words. But there were no words that could truly capture the enormity of what you were feeling. So instead, you simply nodded, acknowledging their apologies once and for all.

“Thank you,” you managed to whisper, your voice raw and hoarse. “Thank you for saying what I needed to hear… even if it’s too late.”

There was a collective sigh of relief from the crowd, but the weight of the moment still pressed down heavily on you. The Queen stepped forward, her presence immediately commanding everyone's attention. “You have all acknowledged your failings here today,” she said, “A man has died, and even if Y/N pulled the trigger, everyone here knows that at the end of the day, she remains an innocent woman. A woman who had to save herself because no one else did.”

As her final words settled over the courtroom, you felt a deep, heavy relief wash over you. The people who had failed you had spoken their apologies, and though it could never erase the pain you endured, the recognition of your suffering soothed your wounded soul.

Hongjoong kept a protective arm around you as you walked outside. The air outside the courtroom was crisp, the world feeling both too small and too vast after what had just happened. You took a deep breath, trying to steady yourself, when you heard a familiar voice calling your name.

“Y/N!”

You turned just in time to see your sister Miyeon rushing towards you, tears already streaming down her face. Her belly was still slightly rounded from her recent pregnancy, and in her arms, she cradled her newborn, your tiny niece or nephew, who was bundled up warmly against her chest.

Miyeon threw her arms around you, careful not to hurt her child, pulling you into a tight embrace as she sobbed uncontrollably. “I’m so sorry,” she choked out between sobs, her voice filled with guilt and anguish. “I didn’t know... I didn’t know everything that was happening. If I had known, I would have been there for you. I should have been there for you!”

You held her tightly, your own tears spilling over once more as you buried your face in her shoulder. “Miyeon, it’s okay,” you whispered, even as your voice trembled. “I know you would’ve helped me if you could. You were far away, and you had no idea. You were also preparing to be a mother… I never wanted to burden you with my pain.”

“But you’re my sister,” she cried, pulling back to look at you with red, puffy eyes. “I should have been here. I should have done something, anything, to protect you. How could I have let this happen to you?”

You shook your head. “You couldn’t have known, Miyeon. None of this was your fault. I don’t blame you, not even for a second.”

Before you could respond, her husband, Gikwang, who had been standing a few steps behind her, joined the two of you. His expression was filled with compassion and guilt as he handed you a small, trembling bundle. “We… we brought something for you,” he said gently. “One of Hongjoong’s neighbors found him in his house and thought you’d want him back.”

Your breath caught in your throat as he placed the tiny, trembling creature in your arms.

“Benji!” you cried out.

The moment he was in your arms, the dam you had been holding back broke entirely. You clutched him to you, your sobs echoing through the quiet corridor as you cried even harder than you just moments before.

Hongjoong stood beside you, his hand on your back, his own eyes glistening with unshed tears as he watched you cradle Benji. Miyeon wrapped her arms around both you and Benji, and for a long, long while, you simply stood there, the three of you wrapped in a comforting embrace. As you finally pulled back, wiping your tears away, you looked at Miyeon and Hongjoong, then down at Benji, who was now purring softly in your arms, and also at Gikwang and their newborn child.

With a trembling but genuine smile, you whispered, "Thank you, Miyeon. Thank you for being here. And thank you for bringing him back to me."

Miyeon nodded, her own smile breaking through her tears. "I’ll always be here for you, Y/N. No matter what. You and I will keep in contact, right? You'll come visit me and I'll visit you, right? And… and you and Hongjoong will be happy together, right?”

As you wiped the last of your tears away, you gave Miyeon a firm nod. “Yes,” you replied, your voice steady for the first time in what felt like an eternity. “We will keep in contact. I’ll visit you, and you can come visit us. And yes… Hongjoong and I will be happy together. We’ll find a way to move forward.”

Miyeon smiled through her tears, her grip on her newborn tightening slightly as she nodded back. “Good,” she whispered, her voice full of emotion. “That’s all I want for you, Y/N. To be happy. You deserve that more than anything.”

Gikwang placed a reassuring hand on his wife's shoulder. “You’re strong, Y/N,” he said softly. “And even if your parents and Jisoo aren't included, you have us that care about you, no matter how far apart we may be.”

You took a long, deep breath before looking down at Benji, who was still purring contentedly in your arms, then up at Hongjoong, who met your gaze with a look of unwavering support and love.

“Let’s go,” Hongjoong murmured, his hand gently squeezing yours. “It’s time to head home.”

You nodded. Turning back to your sister, you reached out and gave her one last, lingering hug. “I’ll see you soon,” you promised, “until then, take care. And also of your bab-”

“Jihoon. His name is Jihoon,” she whispered, carefully cradling the baby in her arms.

You smiled warmly at her and her child. “Take care of Jihoon too, okay?”

With that, you and Hongjoong turned and began to walk away, Benji still cradled safely in your arms.

“Hey, Joongie?” you asked.

“Hm?”

“Do you think Django is doing well?

He laughed. “Oh, I know he is. That damn goat is probably terrorizing the whole town by now.”

My Dearest Husband,

I hope this letter finds you well and you are not too weary from your travels. Though I'm proud the Queen has once again asked for one of your dresses, the house feels a little quieter without you here, though Miyeon, Gikwang, and little Jihoon are doing their best to fill the void. You wouldn’t believe how much he’s grown since you last saw him – he’s already running around like he owns the place. God, I’ve had to take more breaks than usual chasing after him. I’m sure you can guess why.

Miyeon has been a great help, though, and Gikwang even managed to fix the squeaky gate that’s been bothering you for months. We spent yesterday walking along the shore, Jihoon squealing with delight every time the waves came in. It made me think of how much you would’ve enjoyed the sight with him together. The sea is as beautiful as ever, though not nearly as beautiful as it is when I get to share it with you.

Oh, our little shop is thriving more than I could’ve imagined. Your teachings on sewing have paid off wonderfully, and the people can’t seem to get enough of the dresses I make. I'm so honored, though I still try and convince them yours are so much better. They keep saying how elegant the stitching is and how there’s something special about each piece. I always smile and tell them it’s because they were made with love – a love you taught me with every thread and needle. Though I do admit, I’ve had to slow down a bit these days. The shop misses you, too, but it’s running smoothly, and I can’t wait for you to see how well it's been going.

I know you were worried about leaving me alone, but honestly, my love, you overthink too much. I think you forget sometimes just how capable I am. I may be waddling more than walking at this point, but I can still manage just fine, especially with Miyeon here to keep an eye on me. But I can’t help but smile when I think about how you’re already fretting over our little one, even before she’s born. You and your little princess – I can just see it now, the way you’ll spoil her rotten with all those tiny dresses you’ve been making. If she’s anything like her father, she’ll be quite the charmer, and I can’t wait to see you two together, hand in hand, as you show her the world.

She’s been kicking more these past few days, and it hurts like crazy. I can't wait to finally meet her. I’m already dreaming of the day when we’ll finally get to meet her. I know you’re just as eager as I am – I can see it in the way you smile whenever you talk about her. Our little princess. I think she knows, too, because she always seems to calm down when I think about you.

So, my love, don’t worry too much about us. We’re safe, happy, and counting down the days until you’re back home. The sea is waiting, the shop is thriving, and most importantly, your little family is here, eagerly anticipating your return. I’ll keep everything running smoothly until you’re back – though I must admit, I’m looking forward to resting when our little one decides it’s time to make her grand entrance.

Take care of yourself, and don’t let business keep you away for too long. We miss you dearly.

With all my love,

Your Wife

148 notes · View notes

sqyyadina · 4 months ago

Text

A JOINT PRAYER.

Pairing: Lorraine Warren X Reader

Word Count: 4.3k

Tags: fluff, first kiss, period - typical homophobia.

Summary: You weren't raised to worship any God, but Lorraine Warren is starting to make you believe.

Author’s Note: I'd take a bullet for this woman. This is also on my AO3!

“We’d like to take you to the movies tonight. To thank you.”

Her voice is as honey as her perfectly curled hair, and as Lorraine hands you a porcelain cup of tea, you revel in the way your hands briefly ghost past each other.

Though you’ve worked as a secretary for the Warrens for well over a year now, you can’t help but feel intimidated as you sit on their plush couch, nursing your tea, the smiling couple sitting beside you. Their combined gaze is nearly suffocating, as if you are consumed by a demon of your own and they’re trying to rid you of it.

“Thank me? Whatever for?” You ask gently, head cocked to the side in question while you sip on the chamomile you’ve been offered.

“You’ve been a great help to us as of late.” Ed adds, a protective hand patting his wife’s thigh. You hate to admit it, you do, he’s truly a lovely man, but every time Ed begins to speak, you just wish he was out of the picture entirely. You wish that could have been your thumb rubbing circles into Lorraine’s plaid skirt; your lips pressing a kiss to her forehead wrinkle every time she got too focused on her Bible.

But it wasn’t you.

It was him, and it would always be him. You saw the way they looked at each other, the way he sang to her when he thought they were alone in the office. They were practically destined to be together. It’s cliché to say that it made you sick, but there genuinely were nights in which you felt feverish over the fact that Lorraine Warren would never be yours.

“Oh, you flatter me…” You hum back, tucking a stray strand of hair behind your ears. “Really, all I do is organize files… how much of a help can that be?”

You’re much more sheepish than the two sitting across from you, and it shows. Lorraine, ever the investigator, the curious mind, always searching across the face of the person she’s speaking to as if it’s a map into their soul, picks up on your shyness immediately. She always does.

You know that Lorraine has a nurturing spirit, but you rarely expect her comforting gestures. That’s what makes it so special. That’s why it gives you pause when she leans forward to press a warm hand to your knee.

“Please, don’t deprecate yourself.” Her tone is stern, like she truly means to command you into being kinder to yourself, but her voice is so delicate and her smile so warm and inviting that you soften into her minimal touch and nod your head. “Really, you have no idea how having you around has improved our lives.”

You feel your face turn hot at that last sentence, and you fail to maintain eye contact with the older woman any longer. Gently bouncing you heeled foot against the ground, you giggle lightly, and bat a hand as if to dismiss what she’s said.

“You’re too kind…” You hum back, slowly lifting your head again to meet her gaze once again. At this point, you’ve all but forgotten that Ed is even present. “I’m not sure I believe you, but I’d love to go to the movies.”

It’s without pause that Ed claps his hands together and rises to his feet. He says something, quite loud, but you quickly forget what it is. It startles you, to say the least, and you jump back a bit, your tea threatening to slosh onto your blouse. You notice that Lorraine’s hand stays put on your thigh, though, and only leaves once it’s given you a few gentle pats to settle your nerves. She stands as well, always following her husband’s footsteps. You quickly join them, always following Lorraine’s.

“Let’s see something scary!” Ed grins, searching around the room for a newspaper that may have the local theater’s lineup.

“Oh, do you not get enough of a fright out of our daily lives?” Lorraine jokes with that tender laugh of hers, patting her husband on the back and looking at the paper over his shoulder.

“No, I don’t.” Ed replies simply, and plants a kiss on Lorraine’s cheek.

It makes your stomach turn.

“What would you like to see, dear?” You realize that she’s turned her attention back to you. You stumble forward, as if both of your legs had gone numb in the few moments that you had spent sitting on the couch.

You really do hate to agree with Ed, but most of the movies offered sound utterly boring. The thought did cross your mind that watching a horror film would allow you to look to Lorraine for comfort under the guise of fear, which immediately influenced your decision. Sufficed to say, the Warrens’ ghost stories had both satiated your hunger for fright, and completely desensitized you to it, yet you figured you could act scared enough to win a little more of Lorraine’s touch.

Your first few weeks, of course, you had been absolutely terrified of the previously haunted artifacts that your employers always brought home, but with the fervor of their exorcisms and the frequency of their jobs, there isn’t a whole lot that you hadn’t seen nor heard. You had become primarily neutral when it came to horror, but maybe that was because of Lorraine’s calming presence and Ed’s story-telling ability that made the murderous dolls much less terrifying.

“I think I’d like something scary. It is almost Halloween, after all.” You smile to the older woman before pointing to a certain line of text. “This one has the word ‘massacre’ in the title… I don’t believe you can get much scarier than that!”

Ed quickly makes his approval known, and Lorraine playfully rolls her eyes at him before giving his arm a light squeeze.

“I suppose that’s alright.” She hums, her eyes focusing on the page for a second longer. You’ve always known Lorraine to be the bookkeeper of their operation, and suspected she was always the one in charge of appointment dates and important phone numbers. When she rattled off a list of movie times, Ed already having moved to re-read the sports section, your suspicions were proven right.

‘How about eight?” you muse, looking down at your wrinkled dress and chipping nail polish. “It will give me time to change. And fix my hair… and my nails…” You had expected the weather to be bearable this time of year, but you had been burdened by particularly warm weather that caused your hair to frizz uncontrollably. You certainly shouldn’t have chanced long sleeves.

Lorraine, leaving her husband to his muttering about the Yankees, took the half step closer to place her hand on your shoulder. It was shockingly warm, but not at all a warm that you disliked. A comforting warm, that you could enjoy even on a day as sweltering as this one.

“You look beautiful.” She hums, nearly whispering it, as if she doesn’t want anyone else in the world to hear. “As always.” Lorraine adds before disappearing behind your back. She’s picked up your now empty teacup and makes her way to living room door. “We’ll pick you up at seven thirty.” She winks in your direction before exiting the room.

Your knees feel numb, and you try your hardest to wipe the dumb smile off of your face, but it doesn’t disappear, even as you crawl into your car and turn on the radio that just happens to be playing some cheesy love song.

The honking from outside startles you. That’s easy to say; there’s not a lot that doesn’t startle you. You just hadn’t expected them to be so punctual.

You had been sitting in front of your mirror for a little over an hour now, staring at every little detail of your visage to make sure everything was just right, even down to the placement of your beauty marks. It was honestly quite hard to focus, what with Lorraine’s compliment ringing in your ears. You didn’t even need to apply any rouge to your cheeks, they were still so hot.

Now donning a shorter sleeved blouse and a much lighter weight skirt, hair re-curled and nails painted perfectly, you cheerfully snatched your bag and raced out the front door.

Wiggling into the back seat of their fancy new Chevy that Ed couldn’t stop bragging on, you shoot a smile at Lorraine, who returns it through the rearview mirror. You quickly look away after that, yet you can still feel her eyes bore into you. You might just be making that up, but you’re far too scared to glance back up and check.

The drive is primarily quiet, save for Ed’s singing along to the radio, and you even find yourself enjoying his presence for once. He really does sound like Elvis when he tries hard enough.

By the time you arrive at the theater, your heart is racing. Something about sitting in Lorraine’s presence for more than ten minutes at a time causes you a great deal of panic. Despite knowing the woman all this time, you still find her completely enthralling, yet endlessly terrifying.

When she exits the car first to open your door with a playful smile, you feel your pounding heart drop to your stomach. You felt like you were on a date, except your date had brought her husband along. Plus, there’s simply no reality in which said date reciprocates the ways in which you are feeling for her. It’s a very hard pill for you to swallow, but you’ll need to keep reminding yourself that you in fact are not going steady with this woman, but are in fact her employee, and should be furiously professional tonight, no matter what.

It's when you step out of the car that you deeply regret your outfit decision for the second time today. The day had quickly turned to night before you had realized, and the evening’s chill was starting to settle in. You hug yourself tightly as the three of you enter the theater, trying desperately to distract yourself from the cold by figuring out what you’d like to eat.

Your unease must’ve been immediately noticed by the woman that notices absolutely everything that happens around her, because it’s within seconds that you feel a sweater draped over your shoulders. You perk up and whip your head to the side only to catch Lorraine smoothing down your collar.

“I brought an extra, just in case.” She winks at you again, a knowing smirk on her lips. She must’ve picked up on how haphazardly you tend to make decisions, and you appreciated it more than Lorraine could ever know. It wasn’t often that people remembered much about you, so for her to be so prepared for you made your chest swell.

Lorraine sweater is just heavy enough to feel like a hug, and it smells heavenly. Just like her. You don’t want to seem like a weirdo, but you’d be perfectly content to spend the next hour with your nose buried in the soft material, surrounded by the warm vanilla scent of whatever expensive perfume Lorraine wears. Or maybe she just naturally smells that good. You wouldn’t put it past her.

Your attention turns back to the giant menu board as you pull your arms through the sleeves of the sweater, and right away you could feel your brain go silent. It was impossibly difficult for you to decide, especially when there were so many options. That, paired with the steep prices and the very lackluster salary you make as the Warrens’ glorified secretary, make your brain completely stop its functioning for a second. Your worry makes its way into your hands, which fiddle with the sleeves of the sweater that are just an inch too long for your arms.

Lorraine, yet again magically anticipating your every need, places a firm hand on the small of your back, lowering herself to practically purr into your ear.

“Do you need help choosing?” She’s just close enough that her voice, as low as it is, drowns out all of the madness of the bustling theater, and the commotion inside your mind. `

You nod up to her, chewing on your lower lip as the two of you glance over the menu together.

“I can’t decide…” you begin, eyebrows furrowed as you dart over the row of boxes of candy before you. “… between chocolate or popcorn.” You’re getting dangerously close to the front of the line now, and it’s really beginning to wear on your nerves, but Lorraine’s ringed fingers lightly rubbing into your back is calming you tenfold.

The taller woman laughs gently, and you wince a little in fear that she’s making fun of you for having difficulty with something so simple, but you’ve never known Lorraine to be a cruel woman, so the thought is easily dismissed.

“Silly girl.” She says gingerly, giving you a light pat before dropping her hand. “Get both. I’ll make sure Ed pays for it.”

Your cheeks burn once again, and while you yearn for the feeling of her hand to replace itself anywhere on you, you find that Lorraine is already a gift from God and there’s no use praying for any more from the woman.

“Thank you!” you giggle softly, returning the clairvoyant’s playful smile with one of your own as you step forward to the concession counter.

Ed begins rattling off all the things that he wants, and it’s yet again that you remember he’s even there. You figure that if a man as boisterous as Ed Warren can be so easily forgotten in your mind by the likes of his wife, you must truly be under a spell. You shyly give your order when Lorraine ushers you in front of her, hands fiddling with your sleeves again. When you begin to reach for your purse, a hand lightly swats at your own. You really don’t find it necessary for the people that already pay your living wage to give you anymore, and yet you don’t deem it possible that Lorraine will let you pay for anything yourself.

With treats and tickets in hand the three of you make your way into the theater, Ed taking the exact seats that you would have chosen yourself. It’s by a miracle— or rather very careful planning on your behalf— that you’re sitting next to Lorraine, with Ed on her other side. You silently cheer yourself on for what you believe to be such careful maneuvering, because there is just no way in the world that you would spend the next two hours sitting next to someone who will probably talk over the entire movie anyway.

You settle in as the opening credits of the film begin, and right away you feel anxious. Even in a room full of people and the ever so comforting presence of your favorite demonologist by your side, it’s hard not to be scared in a dark room watching a movie about a psycho killer. Your leg begins to bounce nervously as you begin shoveling popcorn in your mouth, anticipating the many scares that are soon to come your way.

And they do come, in multitudes. You’re jumping out of your seat nearly every minute that goes by. The Warrens, as cemented in their occupations as they are, jump a few times as well, which comes as quite the comfort. You had seen them frightened before, when assessing houses for possible spirits, but neither seemed to be as much of a scaredy cat as you.

You’re granted the solace of Lorraine’s hand when she offers it to you about halfway through the movie. It’s after you jump at the sudden sound of a chainsaw revving up, and she must take pity on you, but you don’t care about the implication because you take the hand as quickly as it’s offered. As you’re sitting to her left, you notice that she’s come to the theater with her signature rosary wrapped around her hand. The cool beads do give you a bit of alarm when you first feel them, but then you realize that it only comes as added protection. You’re not sure what the power of the Spirit can do for you in this moment, but you’re very happy that Lorraine is always prepared against whatever dark forces she’s prepared against.

Sitting next to her, hand-in-hand, Lorraine’s gravitational pull is so strong that eventually you find yourself fully leaned against her arm, gripping her hand for dear life. It doesn’t seem to bother her one bit, and if the lights were any brighter, you’d be able to notice a smile planted firmly on her rosy lips.

Just as you feel yourself in a safe position, completely relaxed and feeling entirely safe (or as safe as you can feel during a movie like this), the movie’s third act kicks into gear and you feel your heart start to beat about a million beats a second. You feel a wave of panic wash over you, and it came out of absolutely nowhere. You swallow hard a few times, looking around the theater to keep yourself calm, to remind yourself that there’s not really a chainsaw wielding maniac running around the place, but it doesn’t do much to settle your nerves.

Before you even notice the stinging in your eyes, before you can stop from embarrassing yourself, your cheeks are wet with tears. You swipe at them a few times with your free hand, hoping to not draw too much attention to yourself as you begrudgingly pull yourself from Lorraine’s grasp.

“I… I’ll be right back.” You whisper next to her ear, praying to God that she didn’t notice the crack in your voice.

You can hear her whisper something back, but not well enough to register it, because you’re already out of your seat and rushing to the bathroom.

Standing in front of the mirror, you assess the damage to your makeup.

Your mascara has run down to your neck, and your lips are all smudged from your nervous popcorn eating.

… And you had left your purse, with all of your extra makeup and tissues, beneath your seat.

You felt on the verge of a breakdown, but the very last thing you wanted to do right now was to sit on the floor of this horribly rotten bathroom and cry until your eyes gave out.

You had been staring at yourself in the mirror between broken sobs for God knows how long until you heard someone else enter. Deeply ashamed of your appearance, you turned your back to the door, using a damp towel to try and clean up your makeup.

Then you heard a lock click.

But it was unlike the lock of a stall door.

Then the echoing tap of a pair of kitten heels.

You tense up, too scared of embarrassment to turn around to face whatever movie attendee, or, as you now feared, possible murderer, you were now trapped in this bathroom with.

That’s when you felt the hand press against your back.

“Are you alright?”

That voice was too kind to belong to a murderer.

“Lorraine!” You nearly scream, tossing a hand over your heart to clutch the imaginary pearls that you couldn’t even afford if you tried. “My goodness, you startled me!” You laugh softly, sniffling while you turn to a sink to wash your hands.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to.” She hums, voice barely above a whisper. She’s standing right behind you now.

You’re awfully embarrassed to find that there are no more paper towels in the bathroom, and you have to wipe your hands on your skirt, but Lorraine doesn’t seem to notice.

No, her attention is solely on your face.

Her hand lifts up to push a wayward curl behind your ear. It lingers there for a moment, smoothing down the rest of your hair. Her other hand sneaks its way around your waist, resting just below your belt.

“I just wanted to check on you.” She flashes you that oh-so very endearing smile in the mirror, and lightly runs her thumb below your eyes, wiping away the last remnants of your tears.

You swallow hard, chancing a glance up to her only to miss the woman’s gaze, as her eyes are now glued to your cheek, then your neck. She’s petting your hair, and each stroke is sending a shiver down your spine.

“Oh no, no… I’m alright…” you manage to mumble out, your voice a mere breathe that hitches when Lorraine’s hands maneuver you to turn to face her.

“Good.” She purrs, leaning in until your foreheads nearly meet. “I wouldn’t want my baby to get too scared.”

Dear God.

You didn’t often take His name in vain, but this felt an appropriate time to do so.

Your heart is beating so hard that you’re worried you may pass out.

She called you her baby. You were hers.

Your body betraying you, you practically melt into the taller woman, your hands finding themselves on her hips, holding onto the material of her skirt for dear life.

Lorraine calculates, as is her way, but only for a moment, before her hand slides down to gently grasp your cheek and pull you closer into her.

You gasp into her, her lips latching onto your own before you can even remind yourself that you were meant to remain professional tonight. It seems you’re well past the concept of professionalism by now.

It takes you a moment, a very brief moment, to soften into her kiss. You’re like putty in her hands, molding into the curve of her chest and pressed so hard against her that you’re sure you’ve become one being.

But you haven’t, and before you know it, she’s pulled away.

It takes everything within you to not whine and fuss at her for being so rude as to pull herself away from you.

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have done that.” She says rigidly, fixing her hair in the mirror with one hand, the other still latched onto your hip. “But you have no idea how long I’ve wanted to.” She laughs a little, finally turning back to meet your gaze.

“I…” You’re at a loss for words. Never in a million years would you have expected for Lorraine Warren to waltz in and kiss you out of the blue like that. You must have truly racked up your good karma with the Lord, because this was enough to be considered a miracle. “I… I’ve also… wanted to… with you.” You stutter out, brain just barely conscious enough to put together a string of words.

Lorraine laughs her beautiful laugh again, her hand returning to caress your cheek.

You shut your eyes tight, laying all your weight into her hands. A thought crosses your mind – that she very well may be testing you – trying to sniff you out for being a freak – that there very well be someone right outside that door ready to ship you off to the loony bin –

That thought disappears almost immediately once Lorraine leans down to press her lips to yours again, this time much more confidently.

Her hands wander down to your hips once again, and yours are gripping into her skirt so hard that you’re sure you’ve left permanent wrinkles in the fabric. It’s impossible for you to be any closer to her now, and yet she’s still pulling you tighter, lips coaxing small whimpers from your own.

You’ve gone completely lightheaded now, the lack of oxygen making you a bit dizzy on your feet. Luckily, you’re so sustained by Lorraine’s embrace that there’s just no chance of you falling over.

Her hands threaten lower, her kisses become sloppier, her thigh situating itself between your legs so that you can press your weight there and feel a shock through your entire system unlike you’ve ever experienced before. Lorraine’s whispering some string of messy whispers. Maybe a prayer, much like the one you’re reciting in your own head for someone, anyone, to make this moment last until your dying breath.

Your joint prayer comes to a halt when you’re so rudely interrupted by an angry knock on the door. Lorraine quickly pulls away from you and immediately begins wiping her smudged makeup in the mirror.

You’re stuck in space, stood blinking, mouth hanging open, feet unsure of where to take you.

“Go get in a stall.” Lorraine commands, a gentle finger wiping at your tongue to collect all of the saliva that you had produced in the midst of your affair. She flashes you a sickeningly sweet look before turning you around and patting you towards the stall, where you quickly hide, being able to take her command even though you’re sure your brain can’t conjure any other actions.

Lorraine’s heels tap towards the door, and where she exclaims how sorry she is, how silly she must be for locking the door behind her. Her voice is so pure, so normal. You’re shocked that she can find herself so calm after an event that had nearly introduced you to your maker.

When you hear a stall door click shut, you make your escape, checking your appearance in the mirror just in case. You certainly look bewildered, a little frazzled, but nothing you can’t excuse under the guise of a scary movie.

When you return to your seat, Lorraine is sat with her hand in Ed’s, her eyes glued to the screen. You sit reluctantly, reaching for your popcorn.

It’s less than a minute before she has removed her hand from her husband’s and has given it back to you.

You’re smiling much too brightly, and you can tell that your clairvoyant is smiling just the same. You’re too focused on the way that her hand feels in your own to pay any attention to the God-forsaken movie playing in front of you.

#𓏲🎀ꜝֶָ֢ annie's fics ⋆⸜ ‧₊˚#lorraine warren you will ALWAYS be loved by me #lorraine warren #the conjuring #lorraine warren x reader #lorraine warren x you #lorraine warren fanfic #the conjuring fanfic #horror fanfic #wlw fanfic #lesbian x reader #ff fanfic #lesbian fanfic #x reader fanfic #fluff

103 notes · View notes

whyse7vn · 1 year ago

Text

SEVEN -

[ ot7 x reader ]

sevendaysafreak

8 participants - 8 online

———————————

tae: we are watching jungkook slowly become alpha

namjoon: can you be normal today

jk: do you really mean that bro…

tae: with all my heart..

oh my god i’m tearing up

this is what being a real man is about

jimin: begging for pussy??

jk: I DID NOT BEG??

hobi: you harassed that poor woman for a whole week

yoongi: all for a hand hold

y/n: crazy!

tae: okay??

but it was literally real as fuck so does it matter??

jimin: it was real fucking sad

jin: personally if i was her i would of called the police like sexual harassment hello???

yoongi: right

namjoon: it was a great song jungkook

jk: > //// <

i’m blushing

that was me blushing

and i giggled a little

smiling rn

hehehehehe

namjoon: a thank you would of done it

jk: thank u >.<

jimin: she should of punched him

jin: was there need for an explicit version like??

we got the point the first time

i didn’t need to hear how horny you were for a second time

hobi: he just wanted to swear

tae: no he’s just real as fuck you wouldn’t get it

jk: real as fuck

yoongi: ig it was real as fuck for jungkook

he begs for pussy on a daily

jk: proof?

hobi: by bts

y/n: i’ll leak our dms

jk: DON’T DON’T DON’T

i’m sowyy 😣

jimin: i’m gonna punch him

hobi: fucking seven days a week doesn’t seem right

is that not how you get an std?

jk: no?

yoongi: is that not when you fuck multiple people?

y/n: you fuck multiple people jk?

jk: NO?????

jimin: why is ur no a question

hobi: suspicious

jin: jungkook has crabs

tae: that’s a real man disease

y/n: that’s gross

jk: i’m real

jimin: real itchy

namjoon: can we not talk about stds pls

y/n: i bet jay park has a couple of those

jk: ???

jimin: REALLLL

jin: that’s why him and jk are friends bonded over the burn

jk: i’m not his friend anymore

y/n: character development okay!!!

yoongi: was that bcs he stole from you?

jk: stop talking to me rn

jimin: OMG GUYS

yk i had the worst dream ever yesterday tae was in it

tae: and?

jimin: wdym and

tae: i hope you die

namjoon: pls don’t wish death upon people tae

jimin: yeah tae

tae: all of you can fucking die idc!!!

not jungkook tho he real as fuck

y/n: say real as fuck one more time and i’ll snap ur neck

jin: hot asf

yoongi: ew?

tae: nobody wants to see us winning jk it’s sad 😞

jk: i’m sobbing 💔💔😞😞💔💔

tae: they literally told us to kill ourselves

namjoon: literally no one said that

jimin: in fact YOU said you hope i die

jk: he could of meant by natural causes

tae: right i would never tell you to kill ur self that’s sick and evil

yoongi: kys

tae: ur not going to heaven

yoongi: aw man 🙁

hobi: what if we put tae in the electric chair

jin: what if we put tae and jungkook in the electric chair

jk: wtf ☹️

tae: i could easily survive the electric chair it would feel good to me actually

y/n: i’ve been telling you guys for years we need to lock them up

do you actually read the bullshit they say on a daily it’s actually insane they need help

like professional help

jk: i didn’t even say anything

jimin: you don’t need to

we just know

namjoon: i agree

we could send them to a camp

or something

tae: why are you talking about us like we’re not RIGHT here

jungkook get them omg

jk: i can’t go to camp

too much raw air exposure is bad for my skin

and i have a dentist appointment soon

yoongi: raw air?

jin: how soon is ur appointment?

jk: so soon that i can’t go to camp

tae: JUNGKOOK STAND UR GROUND

WE WILL NOT BE PUSHED AROUND

REPEAT AFTER ME

WE WILL NOT BE PUSHED AROUND

namjoon: tae shut up

y/n: right

tae: i liked it better when you guys just ignored me in this gc

now all you do is be mean

jimin: maybe u deserve it

*you definitely deserve it

hobi: stop talking then idk

yoongi: i will gladly ignore you again

jk: i love you tae i’ll listen to you talk

jin: jungkook the biggest dick rider ever

tae: he’s my little dick rider 🥰😍❤️

hobi: yeah definitely stop talking

namjoon: okay!

y/n: oh my god

jimin: ???

yoongi: um

jin: this is what seven was really about

jk: bro..

tae: lol

jimin: you're really gorgeous i would deadass fight 3 mountain lions in a mcdonald's handicap bathroom stall with my hands tied behind my back and my only weapon is a shake weight glued to my forehead just to get a chance to get to know you and take u out tbh

jin: nurse he’s out again

jimin: wrong chat lol

tae: and you wanna put ME in the electric chair

ur all out of ur minds

namjoon: you were gonna send that to someone????

jimin: is it bad?

y/n: so unbelievably bad

jk: blushing

yoongi: wow

tae: yikes

hobi: bts never beating the rizzless allegations

y/n: who were you gonna send that too?

jk: was it me?

yoongi: that was flirting?

jin: probably the notes app

jimin: no one

jin: told you

notes app.

jk: it wasn’t me?

tae: i’ll be nice and give you some better lines jimin dw

jimin: the only lines you have are of coke

tae: nvm fuck you stay bitchless

namjoon: leave jimin alone

jimin: right leave me alone

namjoon: he’ll open up in his own time

jimin: i fucking won’t

you guys deserve to know NOTHING about me

yoongi: okay don’t care kys

jimin: i have a crush

jin: i’m hungry

hobi: is this the same crush you talked about like 4 weeks ago??

jk: on me?

sorry jimin i’m already in love with someone else

yoongi: didn’t ask

jk: i won’t tell you who it is it’s a secret

namjoon: a secret from who??

jk: what does that mean…

namjoon: don’t we all know…

jin: i SAID i’m hungry

jimin: all you do is eat like omg??

get a job or something??????

jin: i have a job

i serve face for a living i would suggest you look into it since you have so much free time to BULLY and HARASS others but with a face like urs idk if you’ll make the cut

y/n: wow

jimin: i’m not reading all that 💀

y/n: never use that emoji again ew

jimin: 💀💀💀💀💀

y/n: this is why whoever ur trying to rizz up probably thinks ur a loser

yoongi: is it taemin again?

tae: ew you run back to taemin every 4 months it’s kinda embarrassing

jimin: taehyung you actually need to shut ur mouth

breathing the same air as you is embarrassing

and at least i have someone to run back to you are actually genuinely bitchless

tae: u are taemin’s bitch

so technically ur as bitchless

yoongi: gay

jk: don’t be a homocrome

namjoon: stop talking

jimin: it’s not even taemin so shut the hell up

i’m not talking about this anymore

moving on

hobi: what is your mbti guys

jk: physical touch

namjoon: that wasn’t the question

y/n: just say ur horny and go omg

jin: don’t

seven was actually enough

i will hear NO more about jungkooks sex life

everything i have learnt has been without my consent

my lawyers will be in touch

jk: my lawyers are ur lawyers

jin: not anymore

jk: omg…

hobi: oh my oh my god

namjoon: jin stop facetiming me i’m not answering

jin: pls joon pleaseeeeeeeeeeeee

namjoon: i’m not sitting there for you to look at urself in the camera for an hour

i have things to do

jimin: that sounds like very jobless behaviour to me tbh

jin: you can’t be ugly and jealous pls pick a struggle

tae: and rizzless

hobi: i know ur not talking…

tae: ????

hobi: tae i need you to do some self reflection

tae: okay?

i’m hot as fuck

cool as fuck

and real as fuck

i feel well reflected ty for suggesting that hoseok

y/n: i told you i’m gonna snap ur neck if you said that again

start running

jin: coming to watch 🥰

435 notes · View notes

moxfirefly · 2 years ago

Note

Please please please with a cherry on top! I am in NEED of a thigh fuck with Raph xFemReader. I’ve had this scene stuck in my head of Raph and his girl making out and she’s finally had enough of him pushing her away when she’s about to bust so she straddles him on the lair couch. They’ve only made out with some semi-heavy petting before he pulls away and gets all “tough” and tries to change the subject. She’s a needy woman and she needs some attention and validation or at least an explanation as to why he’s so hesitant. She doesn’t get it because she’s been after him forever & now that she has him she’s not about to let him go. This could be completely filthy ❤️‍🔥 I just need my big boy to come undone (pun intended) No pressure but I just love your writing & have been going through and rereading all of your amazing stories! — Much love, Phera

Ngl this has been festering my noggin for a while because I’ve been in a big Raph mood lately. I hope you don’t mind but this is a combination of something I’ve been working on with like a portion of your request into it but I think you’ll enjoy it nonetheless.

Rated Explicit (18+ only)

Raphael always found the word “obsessed” to be a tad too exaggerated.

Whenever Donnie said he was obsessed with some new tech thing, or Mikey was obsessed with a new song, or even Leo was obsessed with some new form of meditation.

Obsessed sounded too big of an adjective to explain it.

Raph didn’t consider himself obsessed with his workouts or even knitting. He liked them sure, maybe even loved them because they brought some semblance of balance to an already complicated brain. But obsessed felt too outrageous of a word.

That all went to hell the second his eyes had landed on yours. Because suddenly the word began to ring out loudly in his brain in blood red caution style letters. Something chemically switched in his brain the very moment you had spoken. He felt sweaty, clammy and downright sick to his stomach.

How many hours in the day could somebody think about another person?

He felt like his ass was going numb from sitting on the bench thing long contemplating this situation. He’d only done one rep of his bench presses when he had to sit up and breathe and quiet his mind.

You were April’s friend, her latest and most stable roommate and somehow the idea of mutants in the sewers had been easier to swallow than he could ever hope for in human reactions.

He felt pathetic, a little dirty but overall weightless whenever you were near by. You’d stepped in several times to help whenever April simply couldn’t. You’d come down with groceries, hand me downs and all sorts of necessities simply because you wanted to help. Raph wasn’t some inconsiderate chump though, he was thankful, he’d (somehow) engaged in his fair share of small talk with you.

And sure your eyes had lit up with him.

Sure there were moments he wanted to do a double take because he swore your eyes had lingered on him.

Pesky pesky pesky ‘ifs’.

Quite often the sensation of your eyes lingering on him had taken him to places he hardly entertained. He didn’t want to place you in that box, that ‘potential’ box where he wondered what a normal life could feel like. He much less wanted to stuff you in the other box.

The one where when he slept and saw nothing but your eyes and mouth and hands all over him. The one where when he woke up and felt like a fever was burning him in the very pits of hell, all because he swore he heard you moan out for him. How many ruined sheets carried your name. How many showers he’s tried to burn you off of him only to simply get off to the idea of your skin against his own.

God he was obsessed wasn’t he?

The hypocrisy alone wouldn’t mortify him.

What would kill him is if you suddenly developed mind reading powers and saw one third of his thoughts on you.

From the fruity gushy romantic ones.

To the filthy debauched images he painted daily ones.

He felt sick again.

Sicker the second you walked in the shorts you wore when summer was approaching.

You had a scar on your knee cap he wanted to taste. He saw how skin spread when you sat down, the plushness, the softest of chubbiness that had him thinking how divine it would be to wake up to those thighs crushing his face. A tremble in his hand urged him to lay a palm on your thigh, just to touch, just to get a taste of human flesh against his calloused scales. Raph wanted nothing more than to feel you sit on his lap and ask him if he could be a good boy for you and-

“Yo bro if you ain’t taking a plate I’m eating it” When had Mikey gotten in front him and why was food being shoved into his face?

Oh, right, you brought dinner tonight.

He had mumbled a grunt of an apology and had poured the rest of his energy into eating.

Unbeknownst to him, you had felt that shift that could only be described as the earth shaking. Raphael wasn’t necessarily subtle, sure he’s gotten away with it a few times but there’s no way he expected you to not notice his eyes burning a hole through your thigh as you sat next to him.

And who said you couldn’t be a little cruel in your endeavors of letting him get the fucking hint that you wanted him too?

So when you had finished eating and Casey and Donnie had started up one of their heated debates, you had placed a hand on his knee to push yourself up from the couch.

You had dug just a little bit of nail.

You had let your palm slide on your way up.

If Raph could implode he would’ve.

If he could set himself on fire he would’ve lit a match by now.

That had messed him up for days. He had rutted against his pillow three nights in a row and none of it had been enough to silence the voice, the itch of his skin.

All it had done was open his eyes a little wider, to watch you like a damn hawk.

And he began to notice things. Notice the little games you played with him.

From the way you crossed your legs when his green eyes landed on you. To the way your smile felt just mischievous enough to let him know he had been had.

You knew.

God, could you read his thoughts?

He had been tasked one evening to walk you to the exit of the Lair. It wasn’t too late, but work and deadlines were impeding you from torturing him longer this evening. He had quietly gotten you to the latter that led closest to your place.

“Ya let us know when ya make it home safe” Came that gruff voice of his, that almost constipated pit nesting in his stomach. Just before your hands could grip the ladder, you had gripped the length of the white cloth that adorned his shorts. You twirled the fabric, gentle twists and a knowing smile that made him hold his breath.

“And you let me know the next time you’re thinking of me at night. I think we’re past this little game.” You didn’t give him a second to recover let alone form a coherent sentence before you were up the ladder and gone.

Raphael looked up, the beam of light as the cover was opened to allow you out into the buzzing city. It felt too much of a spotlight highlighting his desires. You watched him down below, the shadows hiding just enough but not the stunned hungry look. If he were a religious man, he could say that you looked like a god, above him all knowing and with the power to turn him into ash.

And how he wanted to fall to his knees and pray in between your legs.

He hadn’t slept that night.

He had watched the ceiling of his and Mikey’s shared room and contemplated your words. He turned them over and over, examined every vowel and consonant. He tasted the sounds in his mouth. Your haughty smile as the wind blew a few strands of hair.

He lasted a week.

Seven days of self loathing.

A hundred and sixty eight hours of working up the courage.

Ten thousand and eighty minutes of wanting to even the playing field.

So on that last day, last hour, last minute, he had snuck out after patrol and a shower and headed to your apartment. He had climbed up the fire escape with every intention of telling you how evil you were for making him so obsessed.

His simply texted,

‘Window.’

His tried to mask a neutral face as you pulled back the curtains and found him crouched there.

The second you smiled though…

He had lost.

You lifted the window open and rested your hands on the windowsill.

“Couldn’t stop thinking of me?” Your words stabbed him, and he loved it.

He wanted to snarl, wanted to show you that this was stupid of you to even consider. So when he moved forward, brought his face close to yours, you didn’t flinch.

“Don’t be such a coward and show me what kept you up this late?” Your warm breath caressed his scarred lips.

Raph blinked, taken aback on how easily you had taken hold of him. When your hand reached up, knuckles caressing his jaw before they rested on the lip of his plastron, he closed the distance with an innocent kiss. A pressing of lips that froze him against your mouth. He felt that hand run up his neck, a scratch of your nails bringing some life back to him as your lips moved against his own.

Just as his mouth began to catch up, to lose itself against the wetness of your tongue you had backed up into the room and beckoned him inside the living room.

And like a trained pet he slid inside and felt smaller than he had ever imagined he could.

And god, he loved it.

He let you lead him to the couch, watched obsessively as you straddled his lap and kissed him with every intention of devouring all the secrets he possessed inside of him. He can’t and won’t be able to forget the sensation of your hands grabbing his own and letting them hover over your chest.

“Do you want me? Do you want to keep doing this?” You had asked cautiously, adamant in letting him know this could stop the second he felt it needed to. It took every power in him to not yell out a resounding and firm ‘yes’.

“Good, that’s a good boy” And fuck his dick twitched and almost came undone right then and there. He felt his hands cup your breast, the soft tender flesh from above your sleep shirt, just as you rolled your hips against his painfully hard erection.

Between the kisses he groaned out a desire.

“Wanna feel more of ya, can I?” He whispered it against the corner of your mouth as desperate as he ever could.

Your reply came in the simple gesture of lifting your shirt and your reward came in the form of hungry eyes and lips finding your breasts.

He was gutted, how could something this beautiful also be perfect and soft and right now against his lips?

Raph felt your hand on the back of his head and the quiet little yelp as he bit down gently on your nipple almost be his second undoing of the night. He kissed the perked bud, wrapped his tongue around it and savored the texture, the taste, the way that with each suction you grew needier and wetter.

He could feel you so perfectly through the fabric of your underwear just gush against his clothed crotch. His hands held your waist as he devoured your other breast and delighted ‘ha!’ escaped your lips when he his bit down just a little harder than before. Raph’s eyes looked up, the flush pink of your neck, the sweat starting to form.

The two of you still needed to be quiet, you weren’t alone after all.

And this was simply still a taste of things to come.

“I want you, so fucking bad, but not here, not like this” You kissed it up his neck, felt those big hands grip your rear. His eyes held confusion and a stupor that could only mean he was drunk off of this.

“We’re gonna be a little creative and very very quiet” Your hands rested on his shoulders, to which allowed yourself the luxury of a good firm squeeze to the muscle. God he was a fucking sight to behold.

With a remorseful push you got up on wobbly legs and slid your underwear down and off. He had followed the path, mesmerized and hungry. Just to tease, just to be the cruel god you could be, you rubbed along your folds, gathered slick and offered up to his willing and devout lips. He sucked greedily, loved the way you slowly pulled out the digits from his mouth.

Next to his spot you climbed on the couch and rested against the backrest and urged him closer. “Y/n I um, I’m too big-“ And he wanted to cringe at the admission that there was no way this could happen like this without some lube and patience.

“Thighs, use my thighs Raphie” That stupid name sounded like salvation when spoken in your voice. Nervously but ever so in need he settled behind you, pushed his shorts past his hips and saw the mess he had become due to you, much like he did on nights.

His hands ran up the globes of your cheeks and found your waist. He slid himself between the thighs he had dreamt off for far too long and just as he hoped, they felt better than he could ever imagine. “Oh-fuck…” Was his breathless response to the first slide, your thighs locked up as tight as they could be. The move allowed his cock to perfectly slide along your core, rub against your clit and you tighten your lips in a muffled moan.

The next thrust wasn’t as gentle, as slow. But enough to have his navel slap against your rear in that all to familiar lewd slap he often heard in ‘videos.’

He fell slightly forward, massive arms wrapped around your stomach and lips at the top of your head. “God, Y/n, fucking wanted this” He grunted against the crown of your head. “Me too baby, me too” You braced yourself better, if he was like this…

The thought alone made your toes curl as he began to thrust, building a rhythm that had the two of you on the brink of screwing up and moaning louder than allowed. A hand clasped down on your breast as the couch began to protest with the force of his movements.

“Come on Raphie, just like you dreamt of, do just like you’ve always wanted to” You turned your head, did your best to catch a glimpse of his debauched features as he thrusted faster, that squelching sound combined with your moans making him lose control.

“Shit-I’m gonna…” He buried his face against the back of your neck.

“Do it, do it for me, make a mess” Your own undoing so close you could taste it.

It’s a gut punch, it’s like a bomb going off in his chest and stomach all at once. It’s the hardest he has ever cum, and he’s clutching you and not a pillow for once. He can feel it mix in with your own release, feel it drip down against your thighs and shot against the couch. He feels you slap against him as you ride your own wave whilst biting down on your forearm.

He feels dizzy, tired and drained.

He feels you against him. Sticky and sweaty and panting.

He feels so fucking obsessed.

#ask #pheradream15 #requested oneshot #tmnt bayverse #tmnt raphael #raphael x reader #raph #raph x reader #raphael #ns*w

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soliloquy-dawn · 18 days ago

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Day 26: Give your fanfic writers a boost and share your favourite MOTA AU

I'm not taking part in the daily dose challenge, but I saw a couple of posts with incredible fic recs, and could not pass up the chance to share some of my faves.

Quite a few have already been mentioned, like @middlingmay 50s Racing AU (so good I want to scream each time a new chapter comes out), and @joeyalohadream Cooler fic (oh my god, the sweet pleasure pain. So heartbreaking but so tender at the same time).

So, here's my wee list of other faves, in no particular order:

@london-cowboy: All of their fics are wonderful, but especially their newest WIP, Hit Me Where the Heart Is, got me in a chokehold. Two chapters in, and we've been fed morsels of riveting backstory, and it's all coming together, but there's so much more I NEED TO KNOW RIGHT NOW (I will wait, it's fine). Buck and Bucky embark on a (healing?) BDSM journey together, and we're tagging along and going through an emotional rollercoaster while we're at it.

And my favourite potato girl is there!

Also, the smut is delicious. That goes without saying.

@weimarweekly: their Rodeo AU is just.... I am speechless. The tactile, sensual nature of their writing tickles my brain in the bestest of ways.

I think about Gale's blond fuzz you know where probably more often that John does, and that's saying something.

I have just finished this fic, and what perfect timing: @drylite and their Futile Devices. In the grim reality of the stalag, Bucky gets sick, and Buck takes care of him. So good!

Another recent and delicious find: Repressed Vampire Buck by ipsilateral. If someone knows their @, let me know.

@wayrad and their Brokeback Mountain AU. I ACTUALLY THINK ABOUT THIS FIC AT LEAST ONCE A WEEK, and then I panic thinking I've not commented, and I run to check. No, ofc I have commented. It's so good. And again, I have to mention the smut... I can't help myself. So good. 10/10.

We could make it up as we go by youllneverrecme (ah, the irony), who I am not sure is on Tumblr. Please, mind the tags, but aside from that, OH MY GOD. ANGSTY OMEGAVERSE, stalag rendition. So good. Been following it religiously since I found it. We need more MOTA omegaverse. (@wayrad and @euph0riacc looking at you lot, I know you have some delicious stuff cooking).

And finally... last but certainly not least. @angelfruittree.

Theirs is a different form of artistry. They take these stories that we all love so much, and turn them into something else. Something new. An auditory experience. A journey for your senses. The boys truly come alive with her voice.

And she's been on a creative streak recently, releasing a whole bunch of new podfics. Go check them out.

These are by no means all the fics and authors I cherish, but the ones that have been on my mind most recently.

Such a talented fandom.

#ddofab #mota #clegan #masters of the air #fic recs #mota fandom

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thatsmzbitchtoyou · 6 months ago

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Stranded Chapter 3

Summary: Tossed overboard and lost at sea, Bucky washes up on an uninhabited island. Injured, lost and scared, with little to no wilderness training, he fights to survive. But is he really alone?

Warnings: bodily injury, mentions of sexual harassment/assault, eventual smut

Previous chapter Next chapter

They were able to get into a rhythm with each other as time passed. Y/N showed Bucky all the ins and outs of the island, where to find fresh water to drink versus to bathe, where most of the food could be found, and taught him how to fish the ocean around them so they could have more than just fruit to eat and how to cook it properly so he wouldn’t get sick. His chest injury slowly healed, leaving a gnarly scar that spread across his pectorals.

Y/N still had some things left over from when the plane crashed like a few books she and the others had, and Bucky took to reading them on the beach after cooking up a fish for dinner. He could almost always guarantee that he would hear a song being sung throughout the day as Y/N went about doing the daily survival chores. He had always thought she had a nice voice when he’d heard her songs on the radio years before, so getting to hear her in person was a nice soundtrack to his daily routine.

The days turned to weeks and then months. Y/N had already done all the things he’d thought of to try to attract attention from nearby ships or planes or even satellites flying above them, and within the four or so years she had been here nothing had worked. He contemplated ways that maybe they hadn’t thought of, things that could possibly work, but so far had come up empty.

They had talked extensively and learned a lot about each other. She quickly became one of the best friends he’d ever had in his life, not just because they were stuck with each other for the foreseeable future. Bucky could tell that he was getting into dangerous territory as his feelings toward her changed to something more romantic. He did some introspection to see if it was a case of Nightingale Syndrome: falling in love with someone who saves them. As much as he was appreciative of that, he felt that wasn’t it. He loved her voice and getting to hear her sing everyday. He loved her smile and how much wider it became as the months went on. He loved making her laugh, and how loud and boisterous she laughed. He loved how determined she was and how calm and collected she could be in high pressure situations, and that even with all she had been through she could still find it in herself to be soft and kind.

They shared the bed every night and more often than not woke up entangled in each other’s arms, and it was turning into more of a common routine now for them to cuddle together as they fell asleep, rather than doing it by chance overnight. As Bucky’s hair grew Y/N started to hold him to her chest and run her fingers through his hair, humming or softly singing a song she loved called “Nature Boy” that lulled him to sleep without fail. If there was ever a night where she happened to not do it he would have a fitful sleep.

As the winter season started to set in, the nights became colder, making it so sleeping was difficult without being completely snuggled against each other for warmth. On one such night Y/N couldn’t stop shivering, even with Bucky behind her and the blankets cocooned around them, the windows blocked with clothes and other things to keep the cold out.

“Y/N, for God’s sake,” Bucky sighed as he rubbed her arms, her feet freezing against his shins.

“I’m s-s-sorry,” Y/N whined, her arms tight against her chest. “I don’t know w-w-w-what’s wrong with m-m-meee…”

Bucky tried shifting her so she was facing him, tucking her cold nose against his chest, making him gasp. “Jesus Christ, you’re freezing.” Y/N nodded slightly, her fingers diving under his shirt and slotting under his armpits. “FUCK! Okay, we gotta figure something else out,” Bucky said as rubbed her back and made sure she was tucked in by the blankets well enough. He had a fleeting thought as her fingers warmed under his armpits that made him tense. Something about how body heat is the best way to make sure people don’t freeze…

“W-w-what?” Y/N asked, looking up at him as he tensed.

“Um…there’s something that might help,” Bucky said quietly, trying to calm his frantic heart.

“I-I-I’ll do anything…my whole body hurts,” Y/N whispered, her face burying into his neck.

Bucky was becoming genuinely afraid now. He did not want to wake up to a dead woman next to him, especially the love of his life. “We need to take our clothes off,” he said urgently, starting to pull his shirt off.

“Wait…what?” Y/N now tensed, her wide eyes staring at him.

“Sharing body heat will keep us both warm,” he explained as he shifted and took his pants off. Y/N was dumbfounded. “Come on, lovey, or else you’ll freeze to death.”

Y/N exhaled sharply then started pulling her shirt off. Once they were both naked he held her close to him again, desperately ignoring the fact that her breasts were against his stomach and one of her legs was tucked between his, making his cock rest on her thigh. Her cold limbs more than made up for the awkwardness as he rubbed her arms and legs, trying to get her to warm up faster. She tucked her face back into his neck, her hands against his chest slightly tracing his scar as she tried to breathe normally.

Bucky could feel her warming up within a few minutes and it made him sigh in relief. Her fingers no longer felt like popsicles, her feet moving against his legs and not making him flinch away. She sighed heavily as her nose warmed up against him and her breathing evened out. The shivering eventually died down and she wrapped her arm around his back, making her body flush with his.

“Thank you, Buck,” Y/N whispered, her lips moving against his jaw.

“Don’t mention it,” Bucky huffed a laugh, kissing her forehead.

Y/N froze at that. As much as they had cuddled and were now in this crazy predicament, they had never done anything intimate like kissing, even in very neutral parts of the body like on the forehead or the hand or anything else. Bucky waited for her to calm down, but she didn’t. “What happened?” he asked quietly.

“Nothing,” Y/N rushed out.

“Was that not okay? I’m sorry–”

“No, it was okay, I was just surprised,” she said. Her voice was giving off an air of nonchalance but her body was still tense.

“Sure, and I’m not hugging a statue,” Bucky snorted.

Y/N laughed at that, her body shaking at his joke. Bucky laughed along with her. “It…it was just nice, is all,” Y/N said, still giggling.

“Oh you liked it, huh?” Bucky teased her, his hands slipping to tickle her sides. Y/N squealed and twisted in his hold, her hands pushing against his chest to get away. He moved up so he was hovering over her and tickled her neck. Through their movements they found themselves within an inch of each other’s faces, catching their breaths and staring at each other. Bucky’s eyes blinked rapidly as they flicked between her eyes and down to her mouth. Y/N did the same to him. He leaned down and kissed the tip of her nose softly, making her smile. “This is…dangerous,” he whispered as he stared at her lips.

“Yes,” Y/N agreed. “We should probably stop.”

“Probably,” Bucky nodded but didn’t move away.

Y/N took the initiative and pushed away from him again. “Let’s, uh, get some sleep,” she said, disappointment laced in her tone.

“…okay,” Bucky said, feeling dejected but knowing it was probably for the best.

They awkwardly lay close together again, letting the warmth envelop them and eventually dozing off to sleep.

#marvel #smut #bucky barnes #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes x reader #deserted island #uninhabited island #lost #stranded #chapter 3

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binniesbooks · 1 month ago

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• STILL WITH YOU UNTIL THE NEXT TOMORROW

TXT 019 .F05 2024

wc 0.6k

pairings TXT x reader

warnings none, just a light-hearted analysis for the boys :))

faye's note I'm bored soooo let's just make some analysis about TXT! 😋 This is not proofread :)) Also, I've been trying to write fayebies, i swear ⊙⁠ω⁠⊙ but i just can't finish anything :(( especially I'm a little bit sick. I have a fever for like 4 days now. Please wait a little longer ㅠㅠ

Before anything, I would also love to hear your thoughts about this! ;)

Soobin - HE IS A HUSBAND MATERIAL. I'm not even joking! I'm taking my Soobrangdan heart aside (to not be super biased), and for me, he is really husband material. Especially with that shoot where he played with kids-- damn his smile when he's playing with the little girl :( please wife this man up. He's so genuinely happy about it, we can't deny. I just know he would love to be a girl dad. No one can change my mind. And that photo of his nephew, oh my god, don't get me started. His pure heart wants to be an amazing dad, I'm sure. I just know he doesn't want to play when it comes to relationships. If he would have a girlfriend, pretty much his goal is to be married with that person and build a happy little family.

Yeonjun - I've said it before and I'll say it again, he's more of a boyfriend material. Why boyfriend material? Let's not lie and cover things up, he always gives the vibe of "I know what I feel but I don't know how to say it" or some sort. :( He's just a confused baby. Don't get me wrong, he is an amazing person but he's more of a boyfriend material because he just have the difficulty to navigate his feelings, if you get what I mean. People (including me,) would also say that he is the "collector" type because of his vibe-- no he isn't! He is just really confused about how to navigate his true feelings, which would often cause people to misjudge him. He's oblivious about people whom he doesn't love, romantically, of course, and their feelings and would only think he's just doing the bare minimum when, in fact, people have already fallen in love with him—the reason why he is always mistakenly thought of as a womanizer.

Beomgyu - This guy here is boyfriend material too! A silly boyfriend at that! Although he can be a little bit scary and serious at times, he's more on the funnier side. He has a goofy personality that everyone knows. And that makes him a fun and simple guy. Again, don't get me wrong. Because he is the type to be funny and all, yet he is the sweetest when it comes to relationships. Would give flowers on a daily basis. Would do something so cringe-worthy and cheesy just to see you smile. When I say he's the sweetest, I mean he is really the sweetest. But he tends to cry the most. Pure soul only wants true love and can't help but be a little jealous of people who are too clingy with you.

Taehyun - Another husband material. He is a smart husband. Responsible. Reliable. Disciplined. He knows how to stand alone. I mean like, he knows what he is doing most of the time. The most rational of them all. He knows the consequences and doesn't want to do anything risky. He always thinks ahead of time—always two steps ahead compared to others. And he is also firm on what he believes or whatever he says. He knows how to trust himself, and he knows how to be accountable about everything. He's the type that would hurt you with his words rather than fool you with lies. The type to defend you in public and correct you in private. A manly man indeed.

Kai - Of course, he is boyfriend material too. His shy persona tells me so. :) I know, I know, he is big and all. But his shy personality really shows his boyfriend side. The type to go with you every time you need someone. Your one call away partner. A comfortable person you could lean on anytime. He's such a soft guy, and he knows how to show a lot of effort—similar to Yeonjun when it comes to efforts. However, he doesn't really want to stand out—he doesn't want the spotlight for himself—and would rather be hidden away than being watched. This guy is so clingy. Yup. Loves to be around you all the time. He loves to have your hand in his. Shows his extroverted side when he's with you and his friends.

@binniesbooks 2024

#faye's library #soobin's books #yeonjun's books #beomgyu's books #taehyun's books #heuning kai's books #txt fluff #txt imagines #txt scenarios #txt soft hours #txt soft thoughts

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bokutosmochi · 2 years ago

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MAKE HIM JEALOUS! ♡ GETO SUGURU featuring wingman!gojo satoru

geto suguru x fem!reader

ingredients? gojo's sick and tired of hearing you fawn about geto and geto fawn about you so he decides to take matters into his own hands, and that's bad news for both you and geto.

what's it? crack, kind of

allergen warning/s? jujutsu high teacher!geto au, wingman!gojo is a warning in and of itself tbh, gojo calls himself "daddy" twice, reader wears short dresses, mentions of going to bars, nonconsensual filming (just making out), gets a little heated at the end

if you don't like gojo, this may not be for you because his wingmaning ways is questionable lol.

sugar level? 5.4k

regulars? @tokyometronetwork @tahonet

parlor's note? this is tied with clingy mammon in the poll that i made, but in celebration of the new trailer and visuals, i decided to post this one first <33 enjoy!!

bon appetit!

from beside you, gojo poked at the puff of your cheek with the end of the plastic fork in his hand as he shamelessly devoured the strawberry cake that was supposed to be for two -- you opted out of it last minute when lost your appetite upon seeing something that made your stomach churn uncomfortably.

"c'mon, sweetcheeks. it's not like suguru's a manwhore." his mouth is full of the spongy delicacy and you had no idea how you understood him, but you did.

he was right though. girls and boys may be fawning over geto left and right, but he never reciprocated their affections nor take advantage of their attraction to him. most of the time, he'd just smile at them politely then bow as he thanked them. and most of the time, gojo would clasp a hand on his back as if proud of how people fawned over his best friend.

unfortunately, one of the people who fawned over his best friend was you. now, having geto suguru as the person you had a crush on wasn't the worst thing that could have happened. it's certainly a better option than catching a crush on the annoyingly immature white-haired sorcerer, but the amount of attention he got didn't help with your confidence, especially since a lot of pretty girls who looked like they won the genetics lottery frequented his instagram dms as well. it made you second guess yourself at times you swore to finally tell him your feelings which was an embarrassingly large number of times because you've been friends with geto since you were children, and now, with the addition of a certain gojo satoru, you were teachers at jujutsu tech.

the moment right now was just one of those times. if you've kept track - which gojo did, because he's gojo - this would have been number three hundred and sixteen. the three hundred and sixteenth failed confession attempt.

you went to the bakery nanami recommended, he said that it's where he got his daily sandwich back when he worked as a salaryman, and bought their strawberry cake. the kind girl who worked behind the register told you that it was limited edition, only available during the season where the strawberries in the area were especially juicy and sweet. it was paid for with the intention of successful love confessions and being eaten together by you and geto, but when you saw him getting friendly with a girl outside campus, you quickly threw it to gojo who was waiting patiently for the opportunity, though he did defend themself saying but sweetcheeks, i swear to the gods i did not want it to happen this way with an icing-laced grin that did not help his case at all.

"yeah but still," you retorted to his previous statement about geto not being a manwhore. "asking a guy who gets asked out on a daily basis to go on a date with you is nerve wracking." you picked on the skin around your fingernails.

gojo hummed thoughtfully from his place on your left as he bit into one of the fruits. "yeah, i guess you should be scared to ask out suguru. after all, it's not like he knows you inside and out and realizes how much of a catch you are." he grins at you, a dollop of whipped cream on the corner of his mouth; his tongue peeped out to slide through it.

"tell ya what," he roughly wraps an arm around your shoulder and pulls you to him. "let's go shopping tomorrow, okay? my treat. let's buy you a pretty little dress to get your pretty little head off of the boy problems, 'kay?" he stands up and wanders away just as geto sits down on your other side. "what was that about?"

you couldn't help but shrug at him. after all, with gojo, who knew? "god knows."

gojo texted you all the information you needed that night when you were done with your missions and out of school premises.

{from [blue gatorade-eyed menace]: tomorrow. we'll pick you up at your apartment at about ten in the morning. we're going shopping for dresses, so wear something easy to put on and off. peace ✌🏼}

you tried to text him back, asking him about the we in we're picking you up in his text, but didn't get a response back though you're sure he's still awake.

so now it's tomorrow and you're dressed in a casual little black dress with mary jane shoes and white knee high socks. you've already showered, eaten breakfast, brushed your teeth, and packed everything you needed in a neat bag, yet gojo still had no response to the question you asked him yesterday night. you had a festering feeling you wouldn't get one and you'd just have to find out who else he meant by we, although if you were being honest with yourself, you already had a pretty good idea of who it's going to be. one, it was just another person who completed your circle - ieiri shoko did like joining in every now and then when she needs some more chaos in her life - and two, geto, the whole reason that gojo's setting this situation up in the first place.

it's ten fifteen - of course the strongest sorcerer is fashionably late, the way he always is - and you're sat down on your loveseat, bouncing your leg, anxious for what it is gojo has planned out for not just you, but your shared best friend too. you didn't exactly trust the man to not embarass you in front of the black-haired sorcerer for more reasons than what you could count.

you retrieve your phone out of your bag, pressing the power button in order to see if the man send a message, saying anything about cancelled plans - that would only happen if luck happened to be on your side - since they were taking so long. there was none, and when you put the device back where it belongs, you hear a car honk in front of your house, a door slam shut, then a shout. "hey sweetcheeks! get your fine ass out of the house!" you rolled your eyes and left then.

gojo was leaned against the black, sleek, phantom rolls royce he brought for the occasion, a mischievous smirk on his face, and his arms crossed against his chest. when he spotted you, his grin grew even larger as he approached you and threw an arm over your shoulder as you locked your house. "don't take everything i say to heart and flatter yourself, kay? everything's part of the plan."

you didn't need to whisper the way you did since the other man was inside the car which had all windows rolled all the way up, but you did it regardless. gojo already had his back to you, strolling down the pebbled path in front of your house, whistling to himself "the what? what do you mean the plan?" you wanted to catch up to him, to grab him by the shoulder - even though you know it's technically not possible unless he lets you - and ask him what he means by that, why the plan includes him being flirty(?) with you, but the bastard warped quickly got inside the car when he sensed your presence getting close to him.

he looked so smooth doing it too. leaving geto is none the wiser. well, if only you didn't glare at the white-haired menace from where you stood in front of the driver's car door where he sat, before deciding that it was pointless - gojo's as stubborn as a mule - and hopping into the backseat. "what was that about?" one of geto's eyebrows were raised in amusement, looking at you through the mirror. "nothing" was all you grumbled out before looking out through the window and effectively ending the small conversation.

"alright, let's go gang!" gojo cheered, pumping his fists into the air from the front seat as he pressed down on the gas pedal and with that, the three of you were off.

he was a fast driver, so the car ride flew by. you did not even get the opportunity to do some sight seeing as everything was a blur. you stopped looking at the outside world after a while as it would most likely just give you a headache. gojo was behaving strangely throughout the whole time though, pretty over there in the backseat said she needed a new party dress and don't go dozing off on me, sweetheart he smirked at you.

when you got to where he was driving you, you realized that you were no longer in a part of tokyo you were familiar with. the mall standing in front of you as well as the surrounding were unfamiliar.

"never been here before, baby?" gojo's head was tilted to the side, catching your chin between his thumb and index finger, forcing you to look up at him and stare right into his eyes. "just hold onto my arm the whole time, yeah? and cross your fingers you won't get lost."

"you lovebirds done?" a deep voice came from behind you. you momentarily forgot about geto because of how much gojo was distracting you with his "plan" you still didn't know the details about so you whipped around backwards in surprise. "yep!" the white haired sorcerer said, popping the p in the word as he threw an arm around your shoulders and pulled you closer to him.

little did you know, he looked over your head and winked at geto who was narrowing his eyes at his friend. "sorry, suguru. it's either you make a move on her or i will" he mouthed out mockingly before walking towards the entrance.

"okay! how about we get some lunch first. i'm starving." gojo turned towards geto who was avoiding looking at your figure. instead, he kept on focusing on satoru's face or elsewhere in the building. "yeah, sounds good." was his short answer.

much to gojo's relief, it seemed like you were playing along to the song he has been strumming. getting geto to finally muster up the courage to ask you out might be easier than he initially thought.

"where'd ya wanna go for lunch, pretty?" he turned to you, lowering his head so he'd be at eye level with you. on top of that, he also smoothly slid his glasses down the bridge of his nose to expose his eyes, what many people considered to be his greatest asset, physical attraction wise. if gojo wasn't your friend and if you didn't have such a strong feeling of affection and longing towards his best friend, you might have fainted right then and there. many people would kill to be in your position right now, that's something you're sure of -- along with that, you're also sure that those aforementioned people do not know how utterly annoying gojo satoru is.

"i'm craving ramen." you blinked at him, not pulling away from him or getting flustered by the intense eye contact. "d'you know if there's a good ramen place here?"

"i know just the place." he grinned, booping your nose and throwing an innocent look towards geto. "you up for some ramen, suguru?"

the long-haired man hoped that you weren't looking at him right now, him who is gritting his teeth at his second best friend -- he's seriously thinking about giving the title to ieiri instead. "sure. ramen sounds good." his broad shoulders were stiff and there was a forced smile on his face.

he continued to walk behind you and gojo on the way to the ramen place, letting the two of you to lead the way. his arms were crossed and the look on his face was positively dangerous. the playful glint in his eyes that was usually there when the three of you spent time together wasn't there and he was glaring at everything he saw. he looked more intimidating than he does most of the time, and more intimidating than he does whenever he gets send out on missions.

because with those missions, he's confident in his abilities to get them done and exorcise - or sometimes ingest - the curse he needed to get rid off, but in this situation, he didn't know if you returned his feelings for you or if you had a thing for gojo. after all, the bastard told him that he has a thing for you -- the first step of his magnificent plan.

on the car ride to your house, gojo adopted a serious demeanor and asked geto about his feelings for you, telling them that he likes you as well. look man, i know you like her, but if you're not gonna ask her out, i will. i'm not gonna waste any of our times. the seriousness in gojo's voice when he said those words frightened him a bit because he can count the times his friend has been serious on one hand and this just happened to be one of those times.

gojo satoru, you are a royal pain in the ass.

between that and the teasing looks the man has been sending him the moment you got here, he didn't know whether gojo meant it or not.

goddamnit satoru, why must you be like this?

he knew the reason - because he wouldn't stop telling gojo about how much he wanted to ask you out instead of actually asking you to go on a date with him - but it's not like he's going to admit to that anyway.

there wasn't much improvement in either man's behavior when they got to the restaurant. gojo continued to flirt with you, you subtly flirted back -- you didn't reject his advances and shyly looked down, silently thanking him whenever he gave you a compliment. your arms brushed against each other's often, and geto did not find you moving away from gojo, you let gojo feed you one of the deep fried gyozas he ordered, and let gojo tend to the stray strands of hair that was falling onto your face as you blew on the noodles, brushing it to tuck it behind your ear. and finally, geto still sported that annoyed, tight smile on his face. by the way he gripped his chopsticks tightly, skin stretching over the carpals under it and veins going up all the way up to his forearm bulged, the white-haired man sat beside you could tell that your mutual friend was getting pissed off. it would only take just a few more shoves before he broke.

personally, you do not know if this was the best route to take; making your best friend and crush jealous, but then again, you assumed that suguru talked to satoru about his girl problems more than he did with you -- and you weren't wrong thinking that considering the fact that suguru's girl problems orbited around being unable to muster up the courage to ask you out. satoru probably knew what he was doing, right?

"we should go and buy my baby's dress now before he forget about it or spend all our money, hm?" gojo suggested making you nod. he had a hand on your lower back as you led them to your favorite store to finally begin shopping. "and dontcha worry about the price tag baby, daddy's got ya covered." he winked at you, whispering the words into your ear. thankfully, he didn't say it loud enough for the whole store to hear the way he usually does things, he just said it loud enough for suguru, who's walking on the other side of you to pick up. "have some fucking decorum, satoru." he grimaced, wrinkling his nose.

"don't got any!" the man chided playfully, folding both hands behind his head as he strolled around.

you definitely chose a good store to browse through. if gojo wasn't on an in-a-way mission right now, he most likely would have wandered off by himself to look through the different dress shirts and suit jackets they have. the colors they came in were appealing, pleasing to the eye, yet not well-known, and the textures were just as rare. he can go and buy things for himself the next day he doesn't have much on his plate. right now, the most important thing was how the dresses on the racks were exactly geto's type. even if you chose the most hideous one available, he's sure his friend will not be able to take his eyes off of you regardless, but then again, perhaps that has nothing to do with the look of the dress; it's simply because it's you and you're absolutely irresistible to one geto suguru.

geto who tries his best to avoid looking at you or at the assortment of dresses on gojo's arm because he knows the effect that you have on him. geto who separates from the two of you so he could browse through some clothing articles for himself. geto whose only reason for doing that is a pitiful attempt at trying to distract himself from looking in your direction, when in reality, your very presence, the scent of your cursed energy in the air suffocates him and distracts him from thoroughly looking through each article of clothing his hand grazes.

but then, when he hears a whistle in the air that's directed to him, he realizes that there really is no escaping this. "hey suguru, sweetcheeks over here wants to try on some dresses in the dressing room. you should come with." he could have said no. he should have said no, but it was like his feet had a mind of its own. he was already walking towards your direction before he processed gojo's words.

the dressing rooms were big. comparable to the areas in that say yes to the dress show that gojo promises he doesn't like even though he binge watches it every single time he finds himself stressed out.

he cleared his throat as you had your back turned to him, hanging the dresses you had picked out up on the hooks. "i've gotten a few things. you mind if i try em on now too?" his deep voice rumbled making you smile and wave your hand in front of your face.

"of course not, suguru. why're you acting so weird today." and at your words, the other man in the room bursted out in uncontrollable fits of laughter.

"yeah suguru! why the hell are you acting so weird today, huh?" he egged his friend on. gojo had no idea if you meant it that way, but he's entertained and glad you said it regardless.

geto only glared at him, taking all three of the long-sleeved button down shirts he got and getting into the main fitting room; the area you and gojo were in now was still private, just for the three of you, but there was one long couch, a circular platform in the middle of the room, and a large mirror in front of it so you'd be able to observe the clothing you debated on buying from several different angles. the area radiated sophistication and luxury, a spotless bright white color from the floor all the way up.

the first one he tried on was his least favorite. actually, he was still just debating on whether he should get it or not when gojo called his attention to go into the fitting rooms. he grabbed it on a whim, not wanting to be awkward and keep you waiting as he stared at the item of clothing. it was an off white color with gold buttons; the same thread color was used, a shimmering gold lining it. it was made out of a shiny silk, one that had geto's nose scrunching up.

it definitely looked better on the rack and would have preferred it if you didn't see him in the thing, but as soon as he unbuttoned the first button, he heard your voice ring out. "suguruuu what's taking so long?" and of course, gojo being, well, gojo, couldn't help but to follow it up with a "yeah! we wanna see what ya got already!" truthfully, the man scoffed at one of the things on geto's arms when they entered the dressing room and it just so happened to be what the black-haired sorcerer was wearing right now.

with a huff and a short prayer addressed to the gods, hoping that you didn't think he looked ridiculous as he actually did, he puffed his chest out, squared his shoulders, and feigned as much confidence as he can when he walked out of the smaller space within the fitting room.

your eyes widened and gojo didn't even bother covering up his amusement.

thankfully for geto, the next two items of clothing were much better. the three of you thought so and he even ended up with the decision to buy them.

with that ironed out, it was your turn to try things on.

the first one was a lilac-toned dress. it didn't reach mid-thigh, but didn't ride up too much if you were to sit down or bend over. the fabric was glittery, but not to the point of being obnoxious. it had a x-shaped neckline, and showed off the space between your tits. it wasn't the tightest, but still managed to flatter your figure.

"okay, what do we think?"

if you were paying enough attention, you'd see how geto's mouth hung open upon seeing you, and if gojo saw you in the same light as his friend did, he probably would have done the same. "looks good!" he said with a wink and two thumbs up.

"c-could be a little tighter, especially around the waist, but it looks good." geto didn't want you to catch on to him being more-than-flustered, and fortunately for him, he was quick to recover and give you his detailed opinion the way he always does.

"everything looks good on her though." gojo questioned him with a quirk of an eyebrow and it made the man sputter, waving his hands in front of him at both you and gojo.

"i never said it didn't look good! you look good-you always look good-i mean! it just-" you cut him off with a laugh which in his humble opinion resembles that of an angel's. "it's okay, suguru. i know what you meant."

"i might buy this one." you said, smoothing the skirt of the dress out. "it depends on the next ones. if i like this more than one of those, i'll probably buy it." and with that, you were back to the dressing room.

back where your two best friends were sat, there was a whispered one-sided arguement. "don't think i don't know what you're up to, satoru." geto glared making the other man laugh and tilt his head at him.

"oh really now? what am i trying to do then?" he snickered.

geto's fist clenched the same way his jaw did. "you're trying to make me mess up and look like a fool in front of her." was said through gritted teeth, and if anyone else was talking to him, they would probably be on their knees, begging for forgiveness because of how mad and intimidating geto looked, but gojo satoru is not just anyone else. he never was, and he never will be.

he cracks his knuckles and sinks further down into the black leather seat. "it's not my fault you get all fuzzy inside whenever you see her, isn't it suguru?" he grins at him and decides to fess up. "actually, i was trying to get you to confess to her, and guess what? she's on it too. so, are ya actually gonna do it?"

geto's eyes nearly bulged out of his eyes at what left his friend's mouth. does that mean you're aware of his infatuation with you?

who told you about it?

was it satoru? were you able to piece it together yourself? was it painfully obvious that he's painfully in love with you for the past ten years?

how long have you known?

why didn't you do anything about it?

do you find satoru provoking him by flirting with you somewhat entertaining?

do you even want him the same way he wanted you?

so many thoughts were running through his head at an overwhelming speed, but before be could reply to gojo, you were strutting out of the fitting room in a revealing light green number. it was similar to a slip dress, just a few inches shorter than the last one you modeled. it was a spaghetti strap dress and had a rectangular neckline and dipped at the front exposing your neck and collarbones; the color definitely complimented your complexion, geto thought, licking his bottom lip when he thought you weren't looking, when he thought you were too busy gawking at your own reflection because why wouldn't you? his reaction gave you confidence to be bolder, to actually flirt with him. to make it even worse for him now that he's trying to hide his feelings for you - though he recently found out that it's all for naught - was that it was backless. covering nothing of your body posteriorly other than your lower back until the dress reached the hem.

"this one's cute." you commented. the dress much more flowy than the last one, but remained to be sexy and appropriate for bar hopping whenever you - or any of your closest friends - felt the itch to do so. you held the skirt as you spun around in it, stood in the circular platform before staring at your two friends. "what do you guys think? satoru?"

"can't really put what i think into words." he clicked his tongue. "i bet suguru has something to say about that pretty little dress though."

if he was standing up, he's sure his knees would have buckled from the way you quickly turned to him expectantly with the cutest doe eyes and a shadow of a pout on your lips. if you knew about his feelings for you like satoru said, he's sure you're really out to get him, he thought. "i like the other one better." he coughed out. the pout on your lips grew as you looked at yourself in the mirror again. "this one's on sale.. but you're right!"

once again, you heard gojo tsk. "i already told ya princess. 'm your sugar daddy for the day." he smirked, eyes shifting to geto to see his reaction, see the way his eyes dim and the way he irritatingly chews on the inside of his cheek, trying to not let his annoyance show.

you seem to perk up, though, so geto couldn't let himself get angry at gojo for too long. "okay! time for the last one!" you walked into the dressing room, but before you closed the door behind you, you peeked through the gap and winked - was geto going crazy or did you specifically wink at him? - "this last one's my favorite."

surprisingly enough, for the last article of clothing you were going to model for them, neither gojo nor geto knew why you were taking so long. they didn't know if you were trying to get geto on the end of his seat, building up anticipation, or if it was just hard to put on.

from under his breath, gojo uttered out a "you better ask her out after this one." at his friend. "i'm sick and tired of the both of you talking to me about each other. it's getting annoying."

geto gaped internally at that, if the gojo satoru, the person who not only held the title of the strongest sorcerer, but also the title of the most annoying sorcerer found them annoying, then it must be worse than what he initially thought. yet even with this kind of thought, geto simply maintained his calm composure, pairing his inquisitive look directed at gojo with a raise of one of his eyebrows. "i don't think you're in any position to judge someone on them being annoying, satoru."

before the man could reply, you re-entered the room, now clad in the dress that you claimed as your favorite and shit, it's so pretty and it makes you look even prettier, and shit,

it might be geto's favorite too.

you strutted inside the room with an oh-so casual ta-da~ if what you were wearing wasn't enough to put the special grade sorcerer geto suguru to his knees.

the dress was black with cream white colored accents. it was one of those dresses that were very strappy in the back, geto can almost feel the way the skin of your back would warm his hand up whenever he's walking with you at night, guiding you through bars with a palm on the small of your back. the top part of it that's shaped like a butterfly had sequins sewn into it, while the bottom part was made out of a soft velvet-like material. the dress was just long enough to be able to cover your bottom whenever you sat down or bent over to grab something.

it was truly one of a kind, and you in that number was truly a sight to behold.

you didn't need anyone to tell you that though. one, you could see how well the dress complimented your figure, how good you look in it. and two, from the mirror you were facing, you could see the way geto's mouth was slightly hanging open and the way his eyes regarded your form the same way you regard his whenever he rolls up the sleeves of the black button down shirt he wears.

what surprises you though, was the words he spoke while he still found himself unable to strip his eyes away from you. "shit, anybody ever told you how gorgeous you are?" he feels like his mouth is dry, but for some reason, drool can peak out of the corner at any time.

you laughed lightly at him, looking at him from behind a shoulder. "every now and then, why?"

"because," he stands up, still look at you through the reflectively glass in front of you. "you're fucking gorgeous." he's in front of you now with two large warm hands placed firmly on the curve of your waist. after he put his hands on your body, he asked a small you okay with this? which you nodded to. it was all you could do, completely mesmerized and put under the spell of the mint that attacked your senses. the smell of his breath and his perfume as well as his natural scent hit you so hard it almost gave you whiplash.

he wrapped both hands around you now, his hands met at your front. "can i take you out on a date?"

you turn your head to the side and reach up to tangle your fingers into his hair; it messes up the bun he was wearing, and while usually, that would get on the man's nerves, he didn't find it in himself to be the least bit upset when it's you that's doing it. and especially since it's you that's pulling him closer, parting your lips before kissing him.

your lips move in tandem, tongues slipping into each other's mouths as you shift so your body would be facing his. one of your hand remains to be buried in his hair, while the other is wrapped around his shoulders, strong and sturdy after years of workouts and exercise. all the while his hands wander through your frame as if gojo satoru isn't in the same room as you; eventually, his left is on your back, firmly pulling you into him, while the other finds purchase on your ass, groping and grabbing shamelessly.

from in front of you, gojo scoffs. "and he tells me to have decorum." it was only when you pull away that you realize gojo has been broadcasting your whole interaction with suguru on your group chat with your shared friends via video call. your eyes widen in realization while his grin widens at a message he received. "oh, and shoko says finally."

i get: reblog

you get: gojo as your wingman

#order of the day!#order up for geto!#one matcha mochi #with a side of coconut italian ice #geto fluff #geto x reader #geto one shot #geto x you #geto fic #jjk fluff #jjk x reader #jjk one shot #jjk x you #jjk fic #jujutsu kaisen fluff #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen one shot #jujutsu kaisen x you #jujutsu kaisen fic

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