#hopefully it is not too pang!

[mitamicah]

I wasn't happy with my first gig redraw so I redrew it

Here's my new take on Käärijä in Stockholm ^V^

Comparrison under the line

[aria0fgold]

working on oafb again ehehehehe chapter 11 here we go! Time to revive this thing, its been a month and nearly a half at this point whoops... Chapter 11 and maybe Chapter 12 too... Actually yes Chapter 12 too I wanna treat yall for a double update on it and also cuz I luckily! Wrote down plans for the next few chapters so I have a better guideline. (And also cuz Chapter 12 is Omori’s pov and I always have an easier time writing his than anyone else’s.)

[lina-lovebug]

I'd Fight The Devil

Pairing: Alastor x fem! reader

Background: reader is Lilith and Lucifers oldest, and resembles Lilith more. Lucifer has a hard time bonding with her because of this, and Alastor decides to step in.

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

"DAD'S COMING?!"

(Y/N) Morningstar, firstborn daughter of Lilith and Lucifer, was currently having a breakdown over the fact that her father was on his way to the hotel.

She'd have no issue leaving, of course, but Charlie tricked her dear old sister into staying by saying she needed help with the hotel. . .and told her their dad was coming when he was two minutes away.

It's not like she didn't miss him, but things became different once their mother disappeared. Lucifer threw himself into his ideas, and (Y/N) tried maintaining their relationship but he couldn't even stand the look of her.

"I'm sorry! But I thought maybe you guys could talk while he's here?" Charlie suggested with a gulp, twiddling her fingers.

"I'm done trying with dad. If he wants to talk, he can come to me," (Y/N) crossed her arms, firm on her stance.

"I never thought I'd meet someone with worse daddy issues, but here you are, cher," Alastor, with his famous grin, looked down at the Princess of Hell. She huffed, not in the mood for his side comments.

"Alastor, please-"

"He's here!"

"-please fucking hide me!" She ran behind him, despite the mass amount of blonde hair making it obvious.

He chuckled.

Honestly, since meeting the eldest Morningstar, Alastor deemed himself her Protector. Not that the girl wasn't capable or needed him persay, but he cared for her. Being on the aroace spectrum, he wasn't plagued by a selfish desire to fuck her, but it was a sweet concern that slowly turned into a need to be near her.

A need to make her his.

"Hopefully he doesn't-"

"Pumpkin?"

"Fuck," (Y/N) silently cursed under her breath before Alastor stepped aside.

"Hey dad," Lucifer felt a pang in his sinister heart at her tone. She sounded uncomfortable and wouldn't even look at him, but he also remembered that he couldn't look at her at times.

It reminded him of happier times.

Times he didn't want to be reminded of anymore.

"So how've you been? Heard you've got a fancy job now. Probably making loads of money, huh?" He chuckled nervously.

"Dad, it's my company. I made it."

And he couldn't even remember that she did that?

Any dad would remember that his child created her own business.

"Ouch."

"And it's got a fucking duck on the logo. God, dad," She rose her voice, "you can't even remember that?"

"I've been busy, pumpkin-"

"Too busy to call? Too busy to even fucking call?!"

Charlie flinched at the harshness in her voice. She's always been a firecracker but she's never seen her so angry.

"I'm not fighting with you, (Y/N)," Lucifer stepped towards her, "why do you insist on fighting? Especially when I'm here for Charlie."

"Oh, you're here for Charlie?" Her horns started to come up through her skin, rolling back like a rams.

Just like her mom.

"I'm not making this about me. I just wish you'd make the effort instead of it having to be me," She missed who he was.

And during this, Alastor could see the pain on her face. She was furious, and rightfully so.

But he let her fight her own battles.

"I'm sorry that I look like mom. Is that what you want me to say?!"

"Yes!"

He didn't mean it. Of fucking course he didn't mean it, but it slipped out.

"Dad! That's enough!" Charlie ran to her, seeing tears well up in her sisters eyes. "How could you say that?"

"Pumpkin, I-"

"Don't," She sniffled, holding Charlie close, "don't come near me."

But he didn't listen.

He hated being the fact that his little girl was crying because of him.

"I think you've come far enough," Alastor spoke, getting infront of Charlie and (Y/N). He is excellent at saving face, so his pure unadulterated rage was hidden beneath his smile.

She hiccuped behind him, sobbing into Charlie's shoulder.

"Don't make me move you," Lucifer glared.

"And don't make me fucking kill you for hurting what's mine."

His voice turned more static-like than before, his eyes a burning red and his horns outstretched. He was a fucking shield for his Princess, and not even the King of Hell could get through. Lucifer recognized this and humbly backed away, retreating with his tail between his legs.

_ _ ☆ _ _

(Y/N) spent the next hour crying in her room. Over the years, she had started to hate herself for looking like her mom, and Lucifers' confirmation only reaffirmed it.

"Need anything else?" Charlie asked her. Although her sister wasn't searching for redemption, she had her own personal room in the hotel.

"Can you get Alasto-?"

A knock sounded at the door.

"Was he there the whole time?" She sniffled, and a muffled "maybe" came through the door.

Her bed was surrounded by napkins that she quickly placed on her bedside as Charlie allowed Alastor inside.

Alone.

The two of them.

Might as well just throw them condoms and say get to it, is what (Y/N) was thinking. She's known about her crush on The Radio Demon for a few months now, having a fantasy dream here and there, but wasn't much of an active person herself.

"Thank you. I know he tried to fix it, but I couldn't stand to look at him," Her puffy eyes made Alastors eye twitch, still a small spout of anger for her father.

"Of course, my dear," He sat himself next to her on the bed.

"Because your father, although the King of Hell, is a fucking coward", is what he wanted to say but kept those words for himself.

"Did you mean it? That I'm yours?" She asked, her hand inching closer to his.

"I never say anything I don't mean, cher," He grabbed her hand, kissed it, and made the she-demon gasp.

"I thought you hated touch."

He chuckled, "Oh, I do, but not if it's you. Your skin is warm, and it brings me comfort. You bring me comfort."

"You'd have me, even if I want to be glued to your side? Even having petty fights with my dad?"

"Darling, I'd wear your skin if you asked."

"Oh, how romantic," She blushed before both his hands came up to her face, bringing her into a needy kiss. With her, he needed to feel her.

Someday, even all of her.

"And I'd eat demons with you," She whispered against his lips.

"Oh my heart may burst, my dear."

Taglist: @lorkai @droopingdatura @tr1coo @randomuser-89 @abbiedail @evelin1o1 @sseleniaa

[bbydoll18xx]

She's Such a Good Girl

You move in across the hall from Paige Bueckers. It doesn’t take long before she tries to shatter your innocent persona. And you just let her. 

Paige Bueckers x reader

Word Count: 1.9k

Themes: reader is a shy lil baby, a few inappropriate thoughts, paige being a huge flirt

Masterlist

A/N: hiii cuties! So I had a few ideas I've been toying around with, so I merged them together and came up with this. Also the third part of 'I Can Do It With a Broken Heart' will hopefully be out soon but I'm still trying to figure out the direction I want to take it in. Enjoy!

~

Your breaths are ragged as you lug your final suitcase through the front door of your new apartment. It was your senior year at UCONN, and you and your roommates had been assigned a new apartment, which you were ecstatic about. Long gone were the days of being squished into an old dorm room. And you were very excited about the lack of noise, which had kept you from your much needed 10 hours of sleep the past few years. 

The August heat was stifling, but you welcomed the cool air coming through the vents, as you began organizing your new bedroom to perfection. Eagerness bubbled in your chest as you thought about your upcoming year before graduation. You’d finally be free. 

College was supposed to be the time to find yourself before being inevitably dragged into the cruel pits of the real world. It was the time to go wild, get drunk often, and maybe even meet the love of your life. But you had spent your weekends studying and fine tuning the ‘good girl’ persona that you had adopted when you were a child. 

You were the eldest daughter with a raging people pleasing complex, and it was starting to feel like your downfall. Your two roommates had found adoring boyfriends, and they often found themselves drunk as hell on the weekends, reveling in being young and carefree. You were growing to hate your crippling shyness.

You’d be lying if you said your lack of experience hadn’t started to weigh on you. You really wanted to learn how to put yourself out there. But you were dreadfully shy, and the idea of dating or hooking up was terrifying. Your innocence was fucking embarrassing. How would you explain to someone that you were a virgin? And what if they thought you were too timid to be good in bed?

So you just continued on as you had been throughout college; you studied, and you buried yourself in your imagination, and you prayed and hoped that someone would be willing to overlook all of your own insecurities. 

Your thoughts of pity are interrupted by your two roommates calling your name. You walk out of your bedroom into the living room where the two girls are sharing shiteating grins, and you send them a questioning look.

“You’ll never guess who is across the hall from us,” Sarah says slyly, causing a pang of worry to shoot through your chest. The smirk on her face grew as you asked who it was.

“Paige Bueckers,” your other roommate, Taylor, shrieks as your face turns bright red.

Fuck. 

“You’re fucking joking, right?” You whisper, eyes automatically flitting towards your door. 

“Nope! I saw her and Aubrey Griffin walk out of the apartment literally five minutes ago,” Taylor announces, laughing as you fall backwards onto the couch.

“This is not good,” you whine dramatically, hands covering your face. 

“Now you can see her pretty face every day,” Sarah all but sings, taking great pleasure in how uncomfortable you felt.

You scoff in indignation. “I can see her pretty face every day from the safety and comfort of my phone. It’s not like I’m actually ever going to talk to her.”

Your roommates pout at your sheer stubbornness. They had been trying to get you out of your shell from the last few years, much to your displeasure. 

“C’mon, you’re so hot. You could totally catch Paige’s eye. You gotta have more confidence, girl,” Taylor all but whines exasperatedly. 

“Yeah, sure,” you snort derisively. “Maybe while I’m at it, I can rizz up Harry Styles.” You roll your eyes at their ridiculousness.

They sigh in unison, stopping their pleading.

“We’ll just have to see what happens,” Taylor says with a dramatic wink, causing you to stick out your tongue childishly. 

“I have spent the last three years avoiding Paige Bueckers’ beauty. I can do it one more year.”

Little did you know, though, that it would become quite hard to avoid the tall blonde.

~

Friday evening rolls around quickly, and because it was the last weekend before classes started, the students were eager to party it up. You had hoped the apartment building would be quiet, empty from the throngs of students out partying elsewhere. But the girls of the basketball team had other ideas.

The last few days, you had seen multiple girls coming and going from Paige’s apartment. The noise had been loud, but nothing too crazy. It was well known that the girls often went live on tiktok or instagram, and you had heard their laughter across the hall last night. So far, though, the volume levels had maintained a respectable level. 

You had obviously jinxed yourself by thinking that, as the laughter and music pounded through your own walls. The cacophonous sound sent you spiraling. If you wanted them to be quieter, you would have to go ask them to turn it down, and you hated confrontation.

But you were alone tonight, and if you wanted to go to sleep at a decent hour, that was your only option. 

You move in front of the mirror in your bathroom, subconsciously fixing your hair and muttering words of encouragement to yourself. You could do this. Paige is just a regular person. Sure, she was ridiculously attractive, but she was just a girl.

You walk out of the apartment into the hallway, your heart pounding dangerously as you near the door. The volume was insane, and you felt momentarily sad that you were wasting your Friday night alone at home, while everyone was having the time of their lives. 

You shake your head, internally chastising yourself for the brutal thoughts, and with all the courage you could muster up, you knock loudly on the door, hoping the basketball team could hear it through the noise. 

A few moments pass, and you momentarily think you’re about to pass out before the door opens and you are met with the glorious face of Paige fucking Bueckers. 

You gulp, immediately grabbing a lock of hair to play with, desperately attempting to mask your anxiety. You bite your lip and look up at her.

“H-hi,” you stutter, feeling the blush bloom in your cheeks. “I’m so sorry to bother you guys, but the music is a little loud.”

Paige's face morphs into a look of surprise. “Oh shit. I’m sorry. I told KK to turn it down, but no one listens to me around here,” she jokes. “You live across the hall, right? I’m Paige!”

Her friendliness doesn’t necessarily shock you; she was well known for being a genuinely kind person around campus, but the fact that she knew who you were does shock you.

“Uh, yeah I do.” You introduce yourself with a shy smile, growing warmer under her gaze.

“Why don’t you come hang with us?” She prods, gesturing towards the living room with a large grin on her beautiful fucking face. 

Your carefully crafted plan to forget about Paige this year was crumbling around you. And before you could even begin to thinking about stopping yourself, you shyly accept her invitation.

There was no going back now. 

Paige ushers you in, leading you into the chaos, where most of the basketball team were enthralled in making tiktoks. 

As you walk in and stand next to Paige, you look around, all but staring at the tall girls. The whole basketball team was ridiculously attractive, and it made your shyness increase tenfold. Paige gets their attention, and their eyes turn to you as Paige introduces you. 

“She just moved in across the hall. And I told you the music was too loud, KK,” Paige adds, sending a sharp look towards the younger girl. 

She grins mischievously, walking up to you with the swagger you could only dream of having. 

“Sorry, girly pop, we’ll keep it down next time,” KK says, sending you a wink. You giggle in response, feeling more at ease already. 

Paige introduces you to the rest of the team. They’re all so friendly, and your nervous demeanor slowly melts away as you acclimate to their boisterousness. They take turns talking to you, but Paige stays beside you, never being more than an arms length away. 

You weren’t going to read into it. But the little voice in your head was screaming in both apprehension and glee. In the same way, you did not want to leave her side. In an insanely short amount of time, her presence had become a comfort to you, and you weren’t quite ready to give that up yet. So despite it being well past your respectable bedtime, you powered through, Paige’s aura energizing you. 

As you mused over your thoughts, Paige was stuck in her own head. She had seen you around campus before; your pretty face was a difficult one to forget, and she was secretly delighted when she had opened her door to reveal your timid face. 

She was determined to break you out of your shell. Little did she know how much she would. 

~

You look down at your phone a while later, and you’re shocked to see that it was just past midnight. You could not remember the last time you were out that late, and a yawn threatens to escape from the depths of your throat. You subtly rub at your eyes, and Paige doesn’t miss it. 

She nudges you, and you look up to gaze at her bright blue eyes.

God, she was so pretty. 

“You sleepy?” She asks teasingly, and you nod, a blush creeping up your neck again. 

“I’m not used to staying up this late. I should probably head back home,” you say, regret lacing your words. 

Paige nods, standing up to walk you out to the door. You don’t miss how her hand grazes your waist as she guides you. 

You wave goodbye to the girls who still remained, and they enthusiastically bid you a goodnight, making you promise to join them again soon. 

“Thanks for letting me crash,” you profess, heart still pounding dangerously from the subtle touches, tingles on your waist left in her wake. 

“Course,” she shrugs, a smirk on her face. She hands you her phone. “Let me know if we’re too loud again,” she whispers, leaning down to your ear. 

Her closeness has you flustered, and you quickly enter your contact information, avoiding the heat of her gaze. 

As you hand her cell phone back, her fingers brush across yours, and you subconsciously bite your lip to hold back a shaky breath from the view of her long fingers and her big, veiny hands. 

Fuck. 

The smirk doesn’t fade from Paige’s face as she notices you staring, and your face erupts in a vicious blush once more. . 

With a bashful wave and a smile, you leave, all but running back into your apartment. Your heart was pounding, and there was a slight ache down in your most intimate area that had you squirming in desire. 

Your little crush on Paige had been unrelenting the last few years, but it was still just casual. Things had changed, though, and now your feelings were undeniable. Long gone were the days of ignoring your sexuality.

Paige was so hot. And you were so screwed. 

~

Part 2

Part 3

Part 4

Part 5

Part 6

Please, please, please let me know what you think and if you want another part (or more)! Again, thanks for all the love and support!

xoxo katy

[pastryfication]

say yes to the dress

pairing: lando norris x reader (or more likely lando’s family x reader) note: i have been watching way too much say yes to the dress lately so i just couldn’t stop myself from writing this.

the soft chime of the bell above the boutique door rings as you step inside, followed by a warm rush of air scented with lavender and vanilla. the room is bathed in soft light that reflects off the rows of pristine white wedding dresses hanging delicately on their racks. you take a deep breath, feeling the thrill and nerves swirl in your chest. today is the day. today, you’ll—hopefully—find the dress.

your mother is the first to stride forward, her eyes twinkling with excitement. she squeezes your hand, a mix of pride and nostalgia evident in her lingering gaze. “i can’t believe my little girl is getting married,” she says softly, her voice catching in her throat. “i can still remember when you were a little baby resting on my chest.”

beside her, your sister grins, playfully nudging your shoulder. “she’s about to be mrs. lando norris!” she teases, drawing a laugh from you. it still feels surreal, like a beautiful dream you never want to wake up from.

lando’s mother, cisca, approaches you with a warm smile, her two daughters—your future sisters-in-law—flo and cisca, close behind. “i think we’re all in for a treat today,” she says, her eyes scanning the racks of dresses. “we’re not leaving until we find *the* one.”

you look around, feeling surrounded by so much love. these are your people, your family. it’s just the six of you today—no cameras, no fanfare, just a group of women on a mission to find the dress that will make you feel like the luckiest girl in the world.

the boutique owner, an elegant woman with a thick french accent, greets you all warmly. she gestures toward a plush seating area with a mirrored platform. “please, make yourselves comfortable. i’ll bring out a selection to start with. if there’s anything specific you’re looking for, let me know.”

the anticipation bubbles inside you as you take a seat, flanked by your sister on one side and flo on the other. you look over at the group, feeling grateful to have everyone here with you. “so, i’m thinking something simple, maybe lace—”

“maybe lace?” your sister interrupts, raising an eyebrow. “girl, you’re about to marry lando freaking norris. this is your moment to shine!”

you laugh, feeling your cheeks warm as you send her a playful glare. “okay, maybe a little sparkle, but nothing too crazy.”

flo leans over, whispering conspiratorially. “don’t worry, we’ll make sure you look stunning. lan won’t know what hit him.”

the boutique owner returns with a selection of dresses, each more beautiful than the last. as you browse through them, running your fingers over the intricate beadwork and soft silks, you hesitate, glancing at the price tags. it’s hard not to feel a pang of guilt at the sight of the numbers, even though you know lando would give you the world if you asked.

“i don’t want to go overboard,” you say quietly, almost to yourself. “i mean, we have a budget, and i don’t want to spend too much—”

cisca turns to you, her expression immediately softening. she places a gentle hand on your arm. “sweetheart, you don’t have to worry about that. you have no budget. lando wants you to have exactly what you want and he’ll take care of everything. if you even think about being humble, i’ll have him on speed dial.”

you blink, taken aback by her generosity and the easy confidence with which she says it. “i just . . . i don’t want to—”

she shakes her head with a reassuring smile. “this day is about you, and lando doesn’t want you to hold back. you’re part of our family now, and we want you to feel as special as you are.”

your mother nods in agreement, her eyes misty. “you deserve this, honey. you and lando both do.”

you feel your heart swell, grateful beyond words. you’ve always known Lando would do anything for you, but to hear his family say it, to feel their unwavering support—it’s everything. you’re marrying into more than a relationship; you’re becoming a part of something bigger, something that’s filled with love.

you try on the first few dresses, and all of them are gorgeous, but they don’t feel special. it isn’t until you take one of the most simple gowns, a soft lace gown that hugs your figure just right, that your heart gets stuck in your throat.

you step onto the platform and look at yourself in the mirror. for a moment, you’re speechless. you see yourself, not just as a bride, but as a woman surrounded by the people who love her most.

there’s a collective gasp from the group, and you turn to see their faces lit up with joy. your sister is already snapping photos on her phone, and lando’s sisters are whispering to each other, both clearly enamored with the dress.

cisca wipes away a tear, her smile broad. “you look absolutely stunning. everybody’s gonna be speechless.”

you feel a surge of happiness as you spin around, the dress twirling elegantly. “do you think this is the one?”

your mother stands, crossing the room to take your hands in hers. “only you can decide that, but if it feels right, it’s perfect.”

you glance back at your reflection, and you know. it’s perfect. this is the dress you’ll walk down the aisle in, the dress you’ll wear when you say, “i do,” to the love of your life.

and as you stand there, surrounded by laughter, kind words, and the unconditional love of the women around you, you know this is just the beginning of a lifetime of beautiful moments.

[bosbas]

Chapter 4: uh oh, I'm fallin' in love

series masterlist previous part || next part

pairing: anthony bridgerton x fem!daphne's best friend!reader WC: 2.3k words

Warnings: period-typical gender roles, idiots in love, anthony being a big softie, mostly fluff, i still ship y/n and daphne tbh

Summary: At her wit's end after Anthony's multiple attempts to scare away her suitors, Daphne employs her best friend's help to keep her brother distracted while she tries to find a husband. It's a foolproof plan, except it ends up working a little too well. (or, a Bridgerton version of The Taming of the Shrew/10 things I hate about you)

June 16, 1812 - “How’s Mr Norwood?” you asked Daphne, sitting on the couch next to her in the Bridgertons’ tea room, her legs on your lap as the rain steadily poured outside.

Your best friend and her hopefully-husband-to-be had been looking particularly cozy as of late, and you knew that you had played no small part in making that happen. Unfortunately, Daphne’s happiness was often overshadowed by the small pang of guilt you felt every time you had a particularly lovely afternoon with her oldest brother.

“Oh, he’s lovely. I do think he’ll propose in the next few weeks,” she said excitedly, her legs dancing excitedly on your lap.

You squealed in response, absolutely elated at the prospect of seeing your best friend in a wedding gown before the end of the season. It’s practically all she’d dreamed about, and you couldn’t believe the time was so close.

“Where will you live? After you marry, I mean,” you asked, twirling a lock of your hair around your index finger. “If I have to travel to another country to see you, I’ll riot.”

Daphne paused, unsure. “We haven’t particularly discussed it. I think his family has a home a few hours away, but surely his older brother will inherit that…”

You sat up straight, realizing this was a sensitive subject. “That’s quite alright, I’m sure your dowry will be more than enough for a simple estate somewhere nearby,” you reassured, patting her legs comfortingly.

If they were truly in love, it wouldn’t matter how small or large their home was. But Daphne only hummed in response, looking out distractedly at the raindrops hitting the window.

Deciding not to press your best friend and potentially cause her more distress, you changed the subject.

Playing with the hem of Daphne’s dress, you said nonchalantly, “I suppose I’ll end things with Anthony right before Phillip proposes. There’s no real point in continuing the façade if Phillip has to ask Anthony for your hand anyway, so it’s not like we can keep going longer than that.”

Daphne narrowed her eyes at you, smiling slightly. “Really? I thought you two were having a lovely time during your courtship.”

You paused, your hand going still for a moment. “Well, of course. We get along quite well. But it’s not real, Daphne. I don’t really have feelings for him and he doesn’t really have any intention of marrying me.”

“Are you sure?”

“Of course I’m sure!” you laughed at the absurdity of your best friend’s suggestion, sounding a bit panicked. “I couldn’t truly be interested in him!”

Just then, you heard the front door open and heavy footsteps coming down the hallway.

Recognizing her brother’s footfalls, Daphne called out, “Anthony, I didn’t know you’d gone out riding. It’s absolutely pouring outside!”

“I can’t believe it actually rained,” he groaned, his voice carrying across the hall. “I thought Colin just said that to be a nuisance.”

He peeked his head into the tea room, looking completely disheveled from what you could only assume was a hectic horse ride. His hair was soaking and stuck to his forehead, his sleeves were dripping water onto the carpet, and he was shivering slightly from the cold. And yet, you thought to yourself, he still looked more handsome than any other man in the ton.

“Y/N!” he yelped as his eyes fell on you, sitting comfortably on his couch as Daphne had her legs propped on your lap. “I didn’t expect to see you here. I’m sorry, I would’ve looked more… presentable. Or at least dry.”

It was the oddest thing, he suddenly seemed impossibly shy. You only laughed and shook your head, waving off his apology.

“Nothing I haven’t seen before,” you smiled, recalling how reckless young Anthony was when it came to riding.

Anthony crinkled his nose, scratching the back of his neck. “It’s different now, though,” he insisted, still sounding out of sorts. “I can head upstairs quickly to make myself presentable and greet you properly.”

“No, that’s quite alright,” you insisted, finding Anthony entirely too endearing at the moment. “I should probably head home anyway; I’ve been here the better part of the afternoon.”

“Let me walk you home at least,” pleaded the positively soaking man at the entrance of the room. “Or even just call a carriage.”

Your home was only a few minutes’ walk away, and you were usually happy to do it on your own. However, looking out the window you realized it probably wasn’t the best idea to head home in this weather.

“Very well then,” you conceded, finding it impossible to say no to Anthony.

“Alright, give me five minutes, then. Just let me change out of these clothes and I’ll be back,” he yelled over his shoulder, already out the door and rushing upstairs.

“So it's all just pretend, then?” asked Daphne smugly once Anthony was gone.

“Oh, shush,” you grumbled, shoving her legs off you.

But Daphne only laughed gleefully, a knowing twinkle in her eye.

---

June 19, 1812 - Anthony had gone into town on a fine Friday afternoon in search of a new pair of hunting boots when he spotted you some distance away. You were accompanied by your lady’s maid, and you seemed to be leaving the modiste.

Apart from noticing how stunning you looked, even in a simple day dress, Anthony realized a few things.

First, you were far enough away from him and positioned in such a manner that there was no chance that you would see him. He could easily just go on with his day, quickly find the pair of hunting boots he came for, and make his way home.

However, the second thing he took note of is that a gentleman such as himself would always go out of his way to greet the lady he was courting. Perhaps it was time to shift away from the tiring rake act he so often put on and act like a Bridgerton.

And finally, he noted that, in reality, he could come back for a pair of hunting boots at any time. However, he couldn’t unexpectedly run into you every day.

So, with all this in mind, Anthony determinedly shouted your name. When you didn’t hear him and kept walking, he yelled your lady’s maid’s name, who turned around to look at who had called for her. Spotting Anthony through the crowd of summer shoppers, your lady’s maid tugged at your sleeve, turning you around so you could see him.

“Oh, Anthony, what a surprise!” you called, unable to help the bright smile that lit up your face.

How gentlemanly, you thought, for Anthony to go out of his way to say hello. Perhaps he had left behind his rakish ways.

“It’s rather hot today, isn’t it?” said Anthony as he reached you, leaning down to kiss your hand in greeting. “What do you say about going across the street and enjoying some tea?”

Your eyebrows raised in surprise. Greeting you unexpectedly and asking to spend time together? This was quite unusual indeed.

“Is there something you wanted to talk about?” you said, somewhat nervously. Had Daphne somehow let her plan slip? “We were due to see each other this evening at the Featherington ball."

Anthony laughed, enjoying your confusion. It felt quite good to be a gentleman, he thought. “Not at all, I just thought I’d take advantage of the fact that I saw you. I’m not particularly keen on depriving myself of the company of a wonderful lady such as yourself.”

You felt your face growing hot, completely floored by how lovely Anthony was being. It was like his usual charm turned up by a factor of ten.

Looking over at your lady’s maid, you raised your eyebrows to ask if it was alright with her if your plans were derailed.

“Nowhere else to be,” she shrugged her shoulders.

“Perfect, then, let’s go,” you smiled at Anthony.

Hooking your hand into the crook of his arm, you couldn’t help but feel a flutter in your stomach. Bit by bit, you were realizing you were in far over your head. So far you couldn’t even see the ground anymore. Anthony was turning out to be completely unexpected.

And though you were practically giddy every time you saw him now, you were also fighting to bury the uncomfortable thought that you might have made a grave mistake trying to mastermind your courtship with him.

---

June 23, 1812 - “Well, I suppose I should get going,” Anthony said to Colin, getting up from his chair as he looked at his watch. “Y/N will surely be expecting me, seeing as how we went to a ball yesterday evening.”

Upon hearing Colin snickering in response, the eldest Bridgerton shot his younger brother an annoyed look.

“Do you think this is funny? Wait a few years and you’ll be doing this, too,” Anthony scoffed.

“It’s not that,” said Colin, still chuckling to himself. “It’s just that she’s been here since this morning. I ran into her and Daphne a few hours ago.”

“And you didn’t think to tell me?” asked Anthony in disbelief.

Colin shrugged. “I thought you’d surely seen her. You’re the one courting her, after all.”

“Why didn’t she ask for me?” grumbled Anthony, mostly to himself. “Well, even more reason to go see her now. Goodbye, Colin. I would say it was a pleasure speaking with you but based on the last two minutes I don’t particularly think it was.”

In response, Colin half-heartedly crumpled up a piece of paper and threw it at his brother. “Say hello to your wife for me,” he teased, knowing Anthony’s aversion to marriage.

But his jab was only met with a slammed door. Anthony was too focused on finding you.

How on earth had he not noticed your presence in his home the whole day? To be fair, before you started courting, you spent copious amounts of time at the Bridgerton residence, with or without Daphne, and he wasn’t always aware until after the fact.

You had practically already been a part of the family, but it felt different now. He felt panicked that he hadn’t already greeted you, and he was worried you would hold it against him.

Rushing down the stairs, he ran into Daphne, who was shuffling through a stack of letters in the foyer.

“Who are you expecting correspondence from? A suitor?” he questioned suspiciously.

“She’s in the sitting room,” answered Daphne curtly.

Without a second thought, Anthony dashed across the hall, bursting into the sitting room.

There, he found you and Hyacinth sitting next to each other on the pianoforte bench. Your hands were on hers as you guided her nine-year-old fingers over the keys to form a melody. Startled, you dropped Hyacinth’s hands and turned to look over at the doorway.

“Is something the matter, dear?” asked Violet calmly from the other side of the room, quite used to the antics of her eight children.

“No, no- not at all,” gulped Anthony, not expecting to have seen you with his youngest sister. “I just heard Y/N had stopped by, is all.”

“That’s kind of you,” you said, smiling softly at the man you were courting. “Hyacinth seems to be a natural at the pianoforte.”

“Better than Gregory anyway,” said Hyacinth haughtily, eliciting a hearty laugh from you.

“Well, run along, then, Hyacinth,” urged Anthony. “I believe I should like to speak with Y/N.”

Hyacinth groaned, “She’s not yours Anthony. I believe I should like to stay," she said petulantly. "I was having such a lovely time with Y/N before you interrupted.”

She hugged you tight, lest Anthony tried to make her leave by force. Laughing, you hugged her back, patting her head soothingly.

“No one’s making you leave, Hyacinth,” you shot Anthony a playful glare. “I apologize for not finding you earlier, Gregory has just learned how to play chess and wanted to play a match. And then Hyacinth came in and thought it quite unfair that I had spent such a long time with Gregory and not her. And then, well, you know how they are…” you explained, your voice full of fondness for the youngest Bridgertons.

“Oh, do I,” said Anthony, walking over to ruffle Hyacinth’s hair affectionately. “Who won the chess match?”

Resigning himself to the fact that his little sister wouldn’t leave, Anthony made himself comfortable on the couch closest to you. And though he was hoping to spend some time alone– well, chaperoned– with you, he couldn’t deny that his heart was doing all sorts of gymnastics in his chest at the thought of the care you had for his siblings.

“We each won one and the third was a stalemate,” you responded, winking at Anthony and running your fingers through Hyacinth’s hair. “He’s quite good.”

“I want to learn how to play chess,” whined Hyacinth, detesting the fact that you and Gregory shared something she couldn’t join in on.

“I can teach you next time I stop by,” you promised, smiling fondly at her. “It’s quite a fun game, once you understand the rules.”

And at that very moment, Anthony knew he loved you. It had happened slowly, and then quite suddenly he was extremely aware of it. Much like you had made your way into the Bridgertons’ lives, you had made your way into his heart.

He knew he would be a fool not to see it. All he ever wanted was to take care of his family, and seeing you feel the same way was doing all sorts of things to his heart that he found impossible to ignore. You cared so deeply about his family, and it was difficult not to imagine the pair of you having a child of your own.

Anthony had decided. This was the first and last courtship he would ever have. He was falling faster than he could imagine, and he didn't particularly want to do anything to stop it. 

—

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[chamomiletealeaf]

how do you think the cod boys would react to you being on your period…. like i feel like a lot of those mfs wouldn’t let it stop shit … 😳🥰

Tbh I'm not into period sex or anything like that, but I think they wouldn't mind. I think Johnny would be the most into it though.

warnings: period, period sex, suggestive comments, mostly fluff

Johnny wouldn't mind the blood, as long as he gets to fuck you and make you feel good. He'd actually initiate it.

"You feelin' alright love?" He asks.

"Mm ok. Why?" You ask.

"Just curious. You cramping at all?" He asks, almost hopefully.

"No? Not really. A little achey, but, not too bad." You respond, looking at him with furrowed eyebrows, confused as to what he's getting to.

He makes a dissatisfied grunt and pouts.

"What's going on? You want me to be in pain?" You laugh confusedly.

"No no not at all bonnie. I just- know what helps soothe the cramps best." He smirks and you roll your eyes catching on after a second.

"I mean, now that you bring it up, I am feeling a little something." You walk up to him and wrap your arms around his neck smiling.

-

Gaz would be the sweetest, Price right up there with him. He would definitely love to lay on top of you like a weighted blanket giving you kisses and feeding you snacks. If your cramps got really bad, he would shyly suggest sex, only as a last resort.

"Honeyyyy" You sniffle, gripping onto his shoulder with him lying on top of you every time you get a pang of pain in your lower half.

"I know, I'm sorry sweetheart." Gaz coos, pecking your neck with little kisses while on top of you, his arms squeezing you tight.

"Hurts Gaz." You whimper.

"The meds aren't working hun? not the heating pad? nothing?" He asks.

You shake your head teary eyed.

Gaz takes a second to think and he gets noticeably shy, avoiding your eyes.

"Well, uh- I mean- there's another thing we could try. If you're comfortable of course." He mumbles.

"What is it?" You ask, desperate for any sort of relief.

"Well, uh-" He laughs shyly. "I heard that, well- I mean we could try having sex maybe- heard it can help with cramps. Only if you want." He stutters out quickly and you smile.

"Do you want to?" You ask, loving how cute he looks while embarrassed.

"I wouldn't be opposed no. Think it's worth a try- maybe?" He says, ducking his head into your neck, too shy to look you in the eyes after such a suggestion.

You lift his face up from your neck and kiss him.

"Help me get these off yeah?" You say, smile forming on his face.

-

Price would be just as sweet as Gaz, but more controlling, meaning he wouldn't let you lift a finger even to use the bathroom. Uh-uh, he's carrying you everywhere.

You accidentally bleed on his sheets and he wakes up not seeing you in the bed. He gets up, not noticing the stain at first until you walk back in with a wet warm towel.

"Oh. Sorry. I wasn't supposed to wake you. Just- go back to sleep." You tell him, embarrassed and panicked look on your face.

"What are you doing sweetheart?" Price asks, sitting up in the bed. It was pretty early, sun just rising so you both could see without the lights on.

"I- nothing just go back to sleep." You say, walking closer to the bed and pulling the sheets over the spot you stained his white bedsheets.

Price grabs the sheets and pulls them back, confused as to why you were so jittery and what you were covering.

When he pulls them back he sees a big red stain right where you were laying. You must have bled so heavily right through your pad/tampon that it woke you up. You look down at the warm towel you had embarrassed to look him in the eyes.

"Oh sweetheart.." He coos at you as he moves to stand up out the bedd, walking over towards you.

"I'm sorry John I'll clean it up. Just go back to sleep." You say, tears forming in your eyes from the overwhelming amount of hormones taking over your emotions.

"Honey come here." Price whispers, pulling you into a hug. "It's ok sweetheart no need to cry. C'mon let's get you in the shower hm? You want a bath maybe so you don't have to stand love?" He asks, rubbing your back while you cry to soothe you.

"But- the sheets." You sniffle into his chest.

"Love I don't give a bloody damn about the sheets. I'll take care of them while you just rest yourself now hm? Now answer the question, bath or shower?" He says, lifting your chin to look at him with his pointer finger and thumb.

"Shower, standing helps. Don't wanna sit in bloody water either." You say while Price wipes your tears.

"Ok sweetheart. I got you." He says, then picks you up bridal style.

"John I'm gonna get blood on you!" You squeal panicked.

"Oh hush- I don't care. You think I'm afraid of gettin' a little bit of blood on me?" He jokes reassuringly as he walks you to the bathroom.

He places you on the counter as he starts the shower.

"C'mon, give me those clothes darling. I'll wash them and the sheets. You'll have your favorite pajamas waiting for you when you're done. Just relax now hm?"

You strip in front of him and he lets his eyes wander. You look so beautiful even when you're miserable.

You hand him your clothes and he pulls you to him to kiss your forehead.

"And listen, if the shower doesn't help, I know another way to take all those icky feelings away." He smirks and you laugh.

"There we go. That's what I wanna see. Don't ever wanna see you feel bad baby."

-

Simon would be quiet, but always following you around right by your side just in case you need something. He's by your side more usual on your period, silently knowing what you're going through, so he makes sure he's always there and will do anything you ask immediately.

"Siiii" You whine.

He's immediately sitting up next to you on the couch to tend to you.

"Could you get me some tea please? Can't move." You look up pouting at him and how could he say no.

"Of course sweetheart." He says and immediately gets up.

He comes back in a few minutes with your tea to find you curled up in a blanket. He sets the tea down and quietly sits next to you and pulls you into his lap.

"Hey you ok lovie?" He asks and you stay silent, as if it hurts to even speak.

"Hey. What do you need baby?" He asks while brushing your hair from your eyes.

You turn into his chest and close your eyes.

"You wanna take a nap? I'll stay right here with you." He says and you shake your head.

"No? Ok hun. What do you want then? Can't give you what you need if you don't tell me sweetheart."

"Hurts." Is all you say, and you shift in his lap right on his cock and he grunts a little.

You look up at him with wide eyes hoping he'll get what you're saying.

"I know love, I know." He says. "You need me to rub your back? Show me where it hurts bun'."

You grab his hand and move his hands to your sore breasts.

"Aw they sore?" He gently squeezes and kneads your tits with one hand and you whine.

"Yeah. That feels good." You say, whimpering when he squeezes too hard.

"You need more love? Need me to fuck the cramps away?" He coos and you nod.

"Ok bun', let's get you on your back hm? All you gotta do is relax alright?"

You nod your head and close your eyes, letting Simon give you what you need.

[pandapetals]

ong i love your writing! can i please get a x1 logan fic where the reader is a ballerina? she’s been alive for a long time just like logan with the same regeneration ability. they meet when she is invited to the x mansion for something. but he walks in on her dancing swan lake? if not i totally understand. a girl can dream 💗✨

Hi! Thank you so much and sooo sorry for how long it took. I’ve been busy finishing school and sleep-deprived. Hopefully, i did it justice. Idk what this is lol but i ran with it. It turned into a mini fic....anyway, I always wanted to be a ballerina when I was a kid so this lowkey fulfilled my dreams.

logan howlett x fem!mutant reader - angst, minor fluff, reader has established relationships with x-men especially hank, slight reader description, no y/n used, reader has met logan before but he doesn’t remember, timeline sort of follows X1 & X2, ballet references

You stood in the middle of the mansion’s wide, polished hallway, the faint smell of waxed floors and old books swirling around you. The hum of distant voices, laughter, and the occasional crash of something breaking echoed deeper within the sprawling mansion. You smoothed your palms over your thighs, fingers brushing against the soft cotton of your dance tights beneath your coat. This place hadn’t changed—well, not in the ways that mattered.

Storm walked beside you, her silver hair catching the sunlight spilling through the grand windows, while Scott trailed just behind, his arms crossed in his usual no-nonsense stance. You saw your reflection in one of the hallway mirrors—unchanged. Despite the weight of decades, your skin was still smooth, and your body lithe. This place carried ghosts for you, but not the kind that faded with time.

"Still feels the same," you murmured under your breath, your voice almost swallowed by the mansion's high ceilings.

Storm turned, a small smile pulling at her lips. "The kids grow up, and new ones come in, but the mansion stays the same."

"Right down to the same smell of burnt toast from the kitchen every morning," Scott added, his tone dry. He gave you a sidelong glance, the faintest hint of warmth breaking through his stoicism. "You'll fit right in again. Hank’s been talking about your return for weeks. I think he's been counting the days."

Storm chuckled softly, her voice lilting like the whisper of wind through trees. “You’d think he was the one with a photographic memory.”

As if summoned by your name, a deep, rumbling voice boomed from behind. “Is that—no, it can’t be.”

You turned just in time to see Hank bounding into view, his blue fur almost shimmering in the light. His tailored blazer looked comically out of place over his hulking, beastly form, but the warm smile on his face was the same as you remembered.

"Hank!" you exclaimed, your smile splitting wide as you stepped forward. His massive arms enveloped you in a bear hug, lifting you clean off your feet.

"My dear, you haven’t aged a day!" he declared, setting you back down but keeping his enormous hands on your shoulders as if to confirm you were real.

“Well, you know me. Perks of the trade,” you said lightly, but his words brought a pang you quickly shoved aside. You tilted your head up at him. “You, on the other hand, look fluffier than ever.”

Hank laughed, the sound rolling through the hallway like thunder. “You flatter me.” He released you with a fond pat on the back. "Though I must admit, it’s wonderful to see you again. It hasn’t been the same without you."

Scott cleared his throat, his voice tinged with impatience. “As much as I enjoy a good reunion, we still have the tour to finish.”

You smirked. “Still as serious as ever, huh, Summers? Don’t worry, I won’t let Hank hold us up too long.”

As the group moved down the hallway, your footsteps were light against the polished floor. A gruff voice cut through the air, stopping you in your tracks.

“Who’s the new recruit?”

You froze. You knew that voice—low, gravelly like it had been dragged across gravel and left to smolder. Turning slowly, you locked eyes with Logan. He leaned casually against the doorframe, one hand resting on the frame, the other holding a cigar he hadn’t bothered to light. His eyes raked over you, sizing you up with an air of detached curiosity.

“Logan,” you said, the name tasting familiar on your tongue, like a song you hadn’t sung in years.

He cocked an eyebrow. “Do I know you?”

For a second, you almost told him. The memories of a fight decades ago—the clash of claws and fists, the way his grin had split his face after every victory—flashed through your mind. But his blank stare reminded you he wouldn’t remember. Not this version of him. Not after what they’d done to him.

“Not really,” you replied with a shrug, masking the ache behind a practiced nonchalance. “But I’ve heard of you. Big fan of the ‘snikt-snikt’ routine.”

His lips twitched, the barest hint of a smirk tugging at the corners. “Cute.” He pushed off the doorframe, his boots thudding against the hardwood as he walked closer. “What’s your story?”

You mirrored his casual stance, crossing your arms as you looked up at him. “I’m here to teach ballet. Figured the kids could use some culture.”

“Ballet?” Logan snorted, his grin widening. “Yeah, I’m sure that’ll be real useful in a fight.”

You smirked back. “You’d be surprised. I could take you down in three moves.”

“Three, huh?” He tilted his head, his eyes glinting with amusement. “You’re confident. I like that.”

“Is that your way of saying you’d like a demonstration?”

Before he could reply, Storm cut in, her voice carrying an edge of authority. “Logan, play nice. She’s here to help, not trade punches with you.”

Logan raised his hands in mock surrender, his grin never faltering. “Alright, alright. But don’t blame me if she ends up knocking one of the kids on their asses in the Danger Room.”

You rolled your eyes, but couldn’t help the small laugh that slipped out. Logan might not remember you, but some things about him hadn’t changed.

As he walked away, cigar tucked back between his teeth, you turned to Storm, who was watching you with a knowing look.

“Well,” you said, “this is going to be fun.”

Storm chuckled. “Oh, I think you’ll fit right in.”

౨ৎ ˖ ࣪⊹🦢⊹₊ ⋆୨ৎ

The room smelled faintly of lavender, likely from whatever freshener Storm had insisted on using, and the golden light of late afternoon streamed through the large windows. You sat cross-legged on the neatly made bed, hands resting on your knees, staring absently at the few belongings you’d unpacked. A duffel bag in the corner. A framed photo of you and Hank from years ago—his arm slung over your shoulder, your face mid-laugh. It felt surreal, almost too heavy to keep looking at.

You shrugged as if trying to loosen the weight pressing on your chest. It was nice to be back, even if it stirred old memories you’d locked away. Memories of laughter, battle, and the kind of losses that didn’t fade with time. But this was temporary. Just another stop along your endless road, you reminded yourself. You never stayed anywhere long enough to leave roots. You couldn’t.

A knock at the doorframe broke your reverie.

“Mind if I come in?” Hank’s familiar baritone rang out, warm and tinged with his usual politeness. He stood there, one hand resting on the frame, his blue fur catching the golden light.

“Course,” you said, a smile pulling at your lips as you waved him in.

He stepped into the room, his hulking frame seeming almost too big for the cozy space. But the way he moved—careful and precise—kept it from feeling intrusive. He glanced around, his sharp eyes taking in the bare walls and the sparse unpacking. “Travel light as always, I see.”

“Old habits die hard,” you said with a shrug. “Besides, I’m not planning on staying long.”

Hank’s brows furrowed, but he didn’t press the matter. Instead, he crossed the room and plopped into the chair at the small desk, the furniture groaning under his weight.

“We have a lot of catching up to do,” you said, your smile softening. “It’s been...”

“Ten years,” he finished for you, his voice quiet but firm.

Your smile faltered, and you looked away, the guilt settling in your stomach like a stone. “I’m sorry,” you said finally in a whisper.

Hank waved you off, the gesture almost as familiar as the amused twinkle in his eyes. “Don’t worry about it, dear. I know you had your reasons for running off. It just would’ve been nice to know you weren’t, you know, dead in a ditch somewhere.”

That earned a small laugh as you rubbed the back of your neck. “Yeah, I guess I could’ve done better on the whole ‘staying in touch’ thing, huh?”

“Just a bit,” he teased, leaning forward and resting his chin on his massive hand. “I missed you, you know. Things have been... quieter without you around.”

You grinned. “Me? I think you’re confusing me with someone else.”

“Oh no,” he said, his eyes glinting with playful mischief. “I distinctly recall a certain someone sneaking into my lab at three in the morning to swipe beakers for—what was it—homemade glow-in-the-dark paint?”

You laughed, the sound bright and unguarded. “In my defense, it worked! That mural in the attic was a masterpiece.”

“And I had to spend an entire week re-organizing my lab. You’re lucky I’m so forgiving,” he said, though the grin on his face made it clear he didn’t regret a second of it.

The laughter between you settled into a comfortable quiet, the kind of silence only shared between old friends.

Hank cleared his throat, his tone turning curious. “So, how are you feeling about being back? I know it can’t be easy.”

You leaned back on your hands, glancing up at the ceiling. “It’s... weird. Good, but weird. This place has so many memories, you know? Feels like I’m walking through a time capsule. Everyone’s so familiar but different at the same time. Even Logan.”

Hank’s eyebrows shot up. “Logan?”

You nodded, a sly smile tugging at your lips. “Ran into him in the hallway earlier. He asked who I was.”

“And did you tell him?”

Your smile faded slightly, replaced by something more wistful. “Just said I was here to teach ballet and that I’d heard of him.”

Hank tilted his head, studying you. “You’ve met him before, haven’t you?”

“Yeah,” you admitted, your voice soft. You traced the edge of the duvet with your finger, eyes distant. “A long time ago. Before he lost his memory.”

Hank frowned. “And he doesn’t remember?”

You shook your head. “Nope. Not a thing.”

“That must’ve been... hard,” Hank said, his voice gentle, always the considerate one.

You shrugged, forcing a small, tight smile. “It’s not like I expected him to. Besides, it’s probably better this way. Less complicated.”

“Hmm,” Hank murmured, leaning back in the chair with his arms crossed. “Well, complicated or not, he seems intrigued by you. I caught him muttering something about ‘ballet instructors with an attitude’ after he saw you.”

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t help the laugh that bubbled up. “Sounds about right. I think I annoyed him within thirty seconds of meeting him. New record?”

Hank chuckled. “Perhaps. Though, if I know Logan, that probably just means he respects you already.”

You snorted. “Yeah, sure. Respect. That’s what I’m calling it.”

Hank grinned at your sarcasm, but his expression softened as he leaned forward again. “For what it’s worth, I’m glad you’re here. Even if it’s just for a little while. The place feels more like home with you in it.”

The words struck a chord deep in your chest, and you looked down, fiddling with the hem of your sleeve to avoid his gaze. “Thanks, Hank. That means a lot.”

“You mean a lot,” he said simply, his sincerity cutting through any attempt to downplay his words.

The two of you fell into an easy silence again, but this time it was heavier with unspoken things. Things you didn’t have to say, because after all these years, Hank just knew.

౨ৎ ˖ ࣪⊹🦢⊹₊ ⋆୨ৎ

“Great work today,” you said gently, crouching to pat one of the kids on the head. The little girl beamed up at you, her hair still pinned into a slightly crooked bun from class.

“Thanks!” she chirped before bounding off toward the theatre entrance, where a gaggle of other students waited.

“I’ll see you all tomorrow, bright and early!” you called after them, your voice carrying across the empty rows of seats. A few of them waved over their shoulders, laughter spilling into the hall as they disappeared through the double doors.

The stage was quiet now, the faint scent of resin and sweat lingering in the air. You stood there staring out at the rows of chairs that stretched into a shadow. The polished floor beneath your feet caught the faint gleam of overhead lights, reflecting a ghostly version of yourself back at you.

Your shoulders sagged as you sighed, the stillness pressing around you like a heavy blanket. This place stirred something deep in you, something you hadn’t felt in years. You glanced down at your feet, your sneakers looking almost out of place against the elegant backdrop of the stage. Your eyes drifted, drawn to a battered old prop chest tucked just off to the side, partially hidden by the heavy velvet curtain.

Curiosity pulled you forward, and you crouched to flip open the lid. A cloud of dust puffed out, tickling your nose as you rummaged through its contents. Costumes, ribbons, bits of tulle—faded relics from long-forgotten performances. And then, nestled at the very bottom, you found them.

A pair of pointe shoes.

Your breath hitched as you lifted them from the chest, the ribbons cascading down like silk waterfalls. They weren’t yours—at least, not exactly—but they might as well have been. The scuffed toes, the frayed edges of the satin, the way the soles were worn down just so—it was all so familiar it made your chest ache.

Without really thinking, you sat down on the edge of the stage, untying your sneakers and slipping off your socks. The cool satin of the pointe shoes slid over your feet like a second skin, and your fingers moved on autopilot as you laced the ribbons up your ankles. The motions were muscle memory, older than most of the students you’d taught today.

You rose slowly, the faint stretch and pull of the shoes grounding you in a way you hadn’t realized you’d needed. A glance backstage revealed a small sound system someone had left behind, a phone still plugged into it. You scrolled until you found it—Swan Lake.

The haunting strings began to play, swelling and softening as if they were breathing. You stepped back onto the stage, your toes brushing the center mark, and let the music guide you.

At first, you moved tentatively, testing the feel of the shoes and the way your body responded. But soon, the hesitance melted away, and the steps came to you as naturally as breathing. A pirouette turned into an arabesque, which melted into a series of gliding movements that carried you across the stage.

The world outside the theatre faded, and all that existed was the music, the stage, and the rhythm of your own heartbeat. Each movement felt like slipping into an old memory, one you didn’t even realize you’d missed.

You were mid-leap when you caught the faintest creak of floorboards behind you.

The sound shattered your focus, and you landed with a jarring thud, spinning around instinctively.

Logan stood at the edge of the stage, one hand shoved into his jacket pocket. He leaned against the proscenium arch, watching you with an unreadable expression, though something about it wasn’t entirely unkind.

You froze, your breath catching in your throat. The soft strains of Swan Lake still played behind you, the violins aching as the tension in the air stretched.

“How long have you been standing there?” you asked finally, your voice sharper than you intended.

“Long enough,” he said, his gravelly voice cutting through the silence like a knife.

Your eyes narrowed. “And you didn’t think to announce yourself?”

He shrugged, the corner of his mouth quirking upward. “Didn’t want to interrupt. You looked... focused.”

You swallowed hard, feeling the heat rise to your face as you turned away and bent to tug the ribbons loose from your ankles. “Well, congratulations. You interrupted anyway.”

“Didn’t mean to,” he said, stepping closer, his boots thudding softly against the stage floor. “You’re... pretty good at that, by the way.”

You paused mid-motion, glancing at him out of the corner of your eye. “Pretty good? Gee, thanks for the glowing review.”

He smirked, his sharp eyes gleaming with amusement. “Alright, fine. You’re really good. Happy?”

You snorted, slipping the pointe shoes off and flexing your toes. “It’s been a while.”

“Couldn’t tell,” he said simply. His gaze lingered on you even as you busied yourself with tucking the ribbons back into the shoes. “You used to do that, huh? Dance, I mean.”

“Yeah,” you said quietly, turning the shoes over in your hands. “A lifetime ago.”

The silence hung between while the faint hum of the violins still played in the background.

“You should do it more,” he said finally, his tone softer than you expected.

You looked up at him, startled by the sincerity in his voice. The rough edges of Logan’s demeanor didn’t usually leave much room for softness, and it caught you off guard. But before you could respond, he was already turning away, heading toward the wings, his boots thudding softly against the stage floor.

You just sat there, the pointe shoes resting lightly in your lap. You stared after him, unsure whether to laugh, roll your eyes, or call him back just to yell at him for sneaking in. But something about the way he moved—slow, deliberate, almost hesitant—stopped you.

“Logan,” you called out, your voice carrying across the empty stage.

He paused, his broad shoulders tensing, though he didn’t turn right away. When he did, his expression was guarded, like he wasn’t sure what to expect from you.

“How long have you been here?” you asked, gesturing vaguely to the space around you. “At the school, I mean.”

His brow furrowed slightly, and for a second, he looked like he was deciding whether or not to answer. “A good while,” he said finally, his tone gruff.

It wasn’t much of an answer—not something you could work with—but you tried anyway. “Hank tells me you’re just… passing through.” You tilted your head, watching him carefully. “But you’re still here.”

Logan let out a soft huff, the corner of his mouth pulling into something that wasn’t quite a smirk but close enough. “He should mind his business,” he said, though there was no real heat in his words. He paused, stepping closer with a glint of curiosity in his sharp eyes. “You talking to Hank about me?”

You shrugged, the movement casual, but your heart was beating just a touch faster. “Me and Hank are good friends. We’ve—well, I’ve known the X-Men almost my whole life.” You hesitated, glancing down at the pointe shoes in your lap, your fingers idly tracing the frayed edges of the satin. “Been around a long time.”

Logan’s gaze lingered on you, and you could feel the weight of it, heavy and searching. “Yeah,” he said, his voice quieter now. “You give off that vibe.”

You frowned, looking back up at him. “What vibe?”

“Like you’ve seen some things,” he said, his arms crossed loosely over his chest. His tone was unreadable, but there was something in his eyes that felt older than even his rough exterior let on. “Been through it. Same as me.”

You held his gaze for a moment, unsure of what to say. He wasn’t wrong, but it wasn’t the kind of thing you could explain. Not easily, anyway. Instead, you offered him a small, wry smile. “Yeah, well. Time has a way of kicking the crap out of you if you let it.”

Logan let out a low chuckle, the sound more genuine than you expected. “Ain’t that the truth.” He shifted slightly, his gaze dropping to the pointe shoes still cradled in your hands.

“You’re good at that,” he said finally, nodding toward them. “Dancing, I mean. I could tell. Not just talent—it’s in your bones.”

You blinked, taken aback. “What, you an expert on ballet now?”

He smirked, shaking his head. “Nah. But I know what it looks like when someone’s got somethin’ that keeps ‘em going. Something they can’t walk away from, even if they try.”

The words hit deeper than you wanted to admit as you stared at him, unsure how to respond. Finally, you said, “Yeah, well. It’s not exactly something you forget. Even when you want to.”

Logan tilted his head slightly, his eyes narrowing as he studied you. Something was flickering behind his gaze, restless and uncertain like he was trying to solve a puzzle he didn’t even know he had.

“You seem… familiar,” he said suddenly, the words rough, like they’d been dragged out of him against his will.

Your breath caught, and you stiffened, your grip tightening on the pointe shoes. “Familiar?”

He nodded, his jaw tightening. “Yeah. I dunno. I get these dreams sometimes. Flashes of… people, places. Can’t make sense of ‘em half the time, but you…” He trailed off, running a hand through his dark hair. “You feel like one of ‘em. Like I’ve seen you before.”

Your heart was pounding now, and you forced yourself to keep your expression neutral, even as his words pulled at something buried deep in your chest. “Well,” you said lightly, “maybe I just have one of those faces.”

Logan snorted, though there was no humor in it. “Yeah. Maybe.” But the way his eyes lingered on you made it clear he wasn’t convinced.

You stood abruptly, the pointe shoes dangling from your fingers as you moved to set them down on the edge of the stage. “I should probably get going,” you said, your voice a touch too bright. “Long day tomorrow. Lots of kids to wrangle.”

Logan straightened, watching you carefully. “Yeah. Sure.” He hesitated, then added, “Hey. If you ever feel like you need to talk… about all that time kickin’ the crap outta you…” His smirk returned, softer this time. “I’m around.”

You looked at him, caught off guard by the unexpected offer. Then you nodded, a small smile tugging at your lips. “Thanks, Logan.”

He nodded back, stepping away toward the wings. “Anytime.”

As he disappeared into the shadows, you found yourself standing there, staring at the space he’d left behind, wondering if he remembered more than he realized.

౨ৎ ˖ ࣪⊹🦢⊹₊ ⋆୨ৎ

“Leaving already?” Hank asked, his deep voice soft but tinged with disappointment as he leaned against the doorframe of your room. His sharp blue eyes swept over the half-packed duffel bag on the bed.

You turned to face him, zipping up the side pocket of the bag before offering him a faint smile. “Yeah,” you said, your tone light, though the ache in your chest betrayed you. “My job’s done. These kids learned pretty quickly. They don’t need me hanging around.”

Hank stepped into the room, his large frame taking up far too much space as he crossed his arms over his chest. “You could stay…”

His words hung in the air like a challenge, and you looked down at your hands, gripping the strap of your bag. The idea tugged at you, and you couldn’t deny it. A part of you did want to stay. It had been a few months—far longer than you’d initially planned—and yet leaving felt harder than it usually did.

Hank tilted his head, studying you. “I know he would miss you,” he said gently, his voice softening. “In his own weird way.”

Your heart gave a traitorous thud, and you swallowed hard, glancing toward the window. The late afternoon sun cast long golden streaks across the walls, the light catching the faint dust motes in the air. You knew exactly who Hank meant.

“Hank,” you said, shaking your head as if to dismiss the thought. “Don’t start.”

“I’m just saying,” Hank continued, his tone a mixture of teasing and sincerity, “it’s not every day Logan actually lets someone get under his skin.”

You couldn’t help the small laugh that bubbled up, though it was tinged with a bittersweet edge. “Under his skin? Pretty sure he’d describe me as an itch, not a friend.”

Hank raised an eyebrow, a knowing look on his face. “Perhaps. But even Logan doesn’t get that annoyed unless he likes someone.”

You opened your mouth to respond, but the sound of heavy footsteps in the hallway made both of you glance toward the door. A moment later, Logan appeared, his usual scowl in place as he leaned against the frame, arms crossed.

“Am I interrupting?” he asked, his gravelly voice laced with sarcasm, though his eyes flicked to your bag with something far harder to read.

“Not at all,” Hank said smoothly, stepping toward the door. “In fact, I was just leaving.”

You shot Hank a glare, but he only smiled innocently before brushing past Logan and disappearing down the hallway, leaving the two of you alone.

“So,” Logan said, jerking his chin toward the bed. “Packing up, huh?”

You sighed, running a hand through your hair. “Yeah. Time to hit the road. The kids are in a good place, and my work here is done.”

Logan snorted, pushing off the doorframe and stepping into the room. “Work? Looked more like pirouettes and tutus to me.”

You rolled your eyes, a smirk tugging at the corner of your mouth. “Don’t knock it, Logan. Ballet’s tougher than it looks. I’d like to see you last five minutes in a pair of pointe shoes.”

“Yeah, no thanks,” he said, the ghost of a grin flickering across his face. “I like my dignity right where it is.”

You laughed softly, shaking your head as you zipped up the duffel bag. “You wouldn’t know dignity if it hit you over the head.”

“Careful, darlin’,” Logan shot back, his voice teasing but low. “I might actually start to think I’m gonna miss you.”

The playful tone of the conversation faltered for a split second, the weight of his words landing heavier than either of you expected. You looked at him, your smirk fading as your eyes searched his face.

“Well,” you said lightly, trying to brush it off, “don’t get too sentimental on me, Logan. I’ll think I’ve broken you.”

Logan didn’t laugh. His expression grew more serious, his brows furrowing slightly as he stepped closer. “I’m not bein’ sentimental. I mean it.”

You blinked, caught off guard by the sudden earnestness in his voice. “Logan—”

“I’ll miss you,” he interrupted, his gaze dropping before meeting yours again. “In case that wasn’t clear.”

Before you could respond, Logan ran a hand through his dark hair, letting out a low huff. “I don’t know what it is about you,” he admitted, his voice quieter now. “But you feel… familiar. Like I’ve known you before.”

You froze, your pulse quickening. “What do you mean?”

He hesitated, his eyes narrowing slightly as if trying to piece something together. “I’ve had these dreams,” he said slowly. “Flashes of… I dunno, a forest. Snow. And you. You’re there. You’re always there.”

Your breath caught, and you forced yourself to stay still, to keep your expression neutral even as his words sent a ripple through you. “Logan, that doesn’t mean anything,” you said softly, trying to keep your voice steady. “Dreams are just… dreams.”

He shook his head, his jaw tightening. “Maybe. But it feels real. Like I’m rememberin’ something I’m not supposed to.”

You took a shaky breath, gripping the strap of your bag like a lifeline. “Logan…”

He stepped back, giving you space but keeping his sharp eyes locked on yours. “I don’t know what it means, but…” He exhaled, the sound rough and frustrated. “I guess what I’m tryin’ to say is… if I ever figure it out, I’ll let you know.”

You managed a faint smile, though your chest felt tight. “I’ll hold you to that.”

Logan nodded once, his gaze lingering on you before he stepped back toward the door. “Take care of yourself, darlin’,” he said, his voice gruff again, though the softness in his eyes remained.

“You too, Logan,” you replied, watching as he disappeared into the hallway.

౨ৎ ˖ ࣪⊹🦢⊹₊ ⋆୨ৎ

“He isn’t here,” Hank’s familiar voice rumbled as you stepped through the heavy oak doors of Xavier’s mansion.

You froze for a moment, your breath catching in your chest before you schooled your expression into something neutral. “Who said I came back for him?” you quipped, a small smirk tugging at your lips. “Maybe I missed you, you big fluff.”

Hank appeared at the top of the grand staircase, his blue fur catching the soft light streaming through the tall windows. He grinned as he descended, his heavy footsteps echoing in the quiet foyer. “Flattery will get you everywhere,” he said, his tone warm and teasing. As he reached the bottom step, he opened his arms, and you moved forward, letting yourself sink into the familiar embrace.

He pulled back slightly, his large hands resting gently on your shoulders. “My dear, I knew you couldn’t stay away.”

You gave him a faint smile, setting your duffel bag down by your feet. “Well, you were right. This place has a way of sticking with you.”

Your gaze wandered, taking in the grand entryway—the polished wood floors, the scent of old books, and faint traces of Storm’s jasmine perfume lingering in the air. It felt the same as it always had, and yet different, as if the mansion itself had shifted in your absence. It had been three months since you’d left, determined to put some distance between yourself and the memories this place stirred up. But the farther you went, the more you felt the pull to come back.

Something about being here this time had gotten under your skin, burrowed into the part of you that you usually kept locked away.

Hank seemed to sense your hesitation. His perceptive blue eyes studied you carefully, the teasing edge to his voice softening. “What brought you back this time? Missing the kids already? Or…” He trailed off meaningfully, giving you a knowing look.

You rolled your eyes, stepping away to avoid his gaze. “Don’t start with me, Hank.”

“Start with what?” he asked innocently, though the twitch of his lips betrayed him.

You bent to pick up your bag, slinging it over your shoulder as you moved toward the staircase. “I just felt like it was time to come back, okay? No ulterior motives.”

Hank followed you, his footsteps were heavy but deliberate. “Hmm,” he murmured, and you could feel his gaze boring into the back of your head. “I see.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” you asked, glancing at him over your shoulder.

He didn’t answer right away. Instead, he gestured for you to follow him toward the sitting room. You hesitated, but the look on his face made it clear he wasn’t going to let this drop, so you sighed and followed him in.

As you stepped into the room, the crackling of a low fire greeted you, the warmth immediately chasing away the chill that had settled in your bones during your journey back. Hank moved to pour himself a cup of tea from the silver pot on the table and offered you one with a tilt of his head. You shook your head, folding your arms across your chest instead.

When Hank finally spoke, his voice was careful but direct. “Logan left shortly after you did.”

You froze, the words hitting you like a punch to the stomach. You forced yourself to stay still, to keep your expression calm. “Oh?”

Hank’s sharp eyes flicked to you over the rim of his cup. “He went to Alkali Lake.”

Your breath caught for a fraction of a second before you forced yourself to shrug casually. “Is that so? I guess he's still looking for answers.”

Hank hummed, setting the teacup down with a quiet clink. “Indeed. He seemed… restless. More so than usual. Charles sent him there.”

You shifted your weight, pretending to be absorbed in the crackling fire, but you could feel Hank watching you, his gaze pressing against the cracks in your carefully constructed mask. “Well, you know Logan. He’s not exactly one for sitting still,” you said lightly.

Hank didn’t respond immediately, but when he did, his voice was softer, more concerned. “You knew he’d leave, didn’t you?”

You frowned, turning your gaze to him. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

Hank leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees as he regarded you with that gentle yet unyielding intensity that only he could pull off. “You care about him,” he said simply. “And don’t try to deny it. I’ve known you too long.”

You opened your mouth to argue, but the words died in your throat. Instead, you looked away, your fingers tightening into fists at your sides. “It doesn’t matter,” you said finally, your voice quieter now. “He doesn’t even remember me.”

“Doesn’t mean he doesn’t feel it,” Hank said gently.

His words hung in the air, and for a moment, you couldn’t bring yourself to respond. You cleared your throat, straightening your shoulders. “I think I’ll talk to Charles,” you said abruptly, moving toward the door.

“Of course,” Hank said, his voice soft and understanding. “But if you need to talk…”

You glanced back at him, offering a small, strained smile. “Thanks, Hank.”

౨ৎ ˖ ࣪⊹🦢⊹₊ ⋆୨ৎ

You found Charles in his study, the quiet hum of his voice reaching you before you even entered the room. He was finishing up a conversation with Storm, who nodded at you in greeting as she passed by on her way out.

“Ah,” Charles said, his warm smile appearing as he gestured for you to come in. “It’s good to see you back.”

You hesitated for a moment before stepping inside, closing the door behind you. “Why did you send him there?”

Charles raised an eyebrow, though his expression remained calm. “Logan?”

“Yes,” you said, crossing your arms over your chest. “Hank said you sent him to Alkali Lake. Why?”

Charles sighed, folding his hands in his lap as his gaze turned contemplative. “Because he was searching for answers. And I thought he deserved a chance to find them.”

“At that place?” you said, your voice sharper than you intended.

Charles’s gaze softened, his eyes piercing yet kind. “You know as well as I do that Logan’s past is complicated. He came to me, searching for guidance. I simply pointed him toward where I believed he might find what he was looking for.”

You turned away, pacing to the window as you tried to steady your thoughts. Memories of Alkali Lake clawed at the edges of your mind, and the idea of Logan going back there made your chest tighten.

“He’s going to get himself killed,” you muttered.

Charles was silent for a long moment, and when he finally spoke, his voice was gentle. “He’s stronger than you think. And, perhaps, finding the truth is the only way for him to heal.”

You clenched your jaw, your hands balling into fists at your sides. “He doesn’t even know what he’s looking for,” you said quietly. “He doesn’t remember.”

Charles tilted his head, studying you carefully. “And yet, it seems to me that you do.”

You turned to face him, your arms folded tightly across your chest like a shield, but you couldn’t keep the vulnerability from your eyes as they met his. He was right, of course—he was always right. You did remember. You remembered everything.

And that was the problem.

“Sometimes,” you said softly, your voice trembling just enough to betray you, “things happen for a reason. Sometimes it’s better not to remember.”

Charles’s expression softened, his piercing gaze never wavering. He leaned back slightly in his chair, his hands folding neatly in his lap as he studied you. “Perhaps you feel that way,” he said gently, “but Logan doesn’t. He wants to remember—he longs to, even if he doesn’t realize how painful the truth could be.”

You swallowed hard, your fingers tightening against your arms. The lump rising in your throat made it difficult to speak. “You shouldn’t have sent him there,” you said, your voice sharper than you intended. “You could’ve just told him. You could’ve looked into his mind and shown him.”

Charles sighed, his expression tinged with a sadness that only came from decades of making impossible decisions. “I could have,” he admitted, his voice as calm and steady as ever. “But sometimes it’s best to let one discover the truth on their own. To take the journey themselves, rather than having it handed to them.”

You shook your head, pacing a few steps toward the window before stopping, your hands bracing against the ledge as you stared out at the sprawling gardens. The sky was painted with the fiery hues of sunset, the warm colors stark against the shadows creeping across the grounds.

“You don’t know what he’s walking into,” you said, your voice quieter now but no less strained. “Alkali Lake isn’t just some mystery to solve—it’s a wound that doesn’t close. Whatever he finds there… it’ll destroy him.”

Charles’s chair creaked faintly as he shifted, his voice still calm but tinged with something deeper, something more insistent. “Logan is stronger than you think. He has endured more than most men could even imagine. And while you may see Alkali Lake as a wound, for him, it may be the key to healing.”

You let out a bitter laugh, shaking your head. “Healing? Is that what you call it? Ripping open the past just to bleed all over again?” You turned to face him, your voice rising slightly. “You think that’s going to help him?”

Charles remained unshaken, his steady gaze meeting yours. “I think,” he said carefully, “that Logan deserves the chance to decide for himself. To understand who he was, and who he could become.”

You looked away, your jaw clenching as the weight of his words settled over you. “He doesn’t need to remember everything,” you murmured, more to yourself than to Charles. “Some things… some things are better left buried.”

Charles regarded you silently for a long moment, the silence between you heavy with unspoken truths. Finally, he spoke, his tone gentle but resolute. “You could help him.”

The words made your heart jolt, and your eyes snapped back to his, wide with surprise. “What?”

“You could help him,” Charles repeated, his gaze unyielding. “You know him. You understand his pain in ways others cannot. Perhaps you are exactly what he needs.”

You opened your mouth to argue, to protest, but the words caught in your throat. Instead, you let out a breathless laugh, shaking your head as you stepped back toward the door. “No,” you said firmly, though your voice cracked slightly. “That’s not my place. He doesn’t even remember me.”

“Perhaps not,” Charles said, tilting his head slightly. “But that doesn’t mean he doesn’t feel the connection. And it doesn’t mean you don’t care.”

You froze in the doorway, your hand gripping the frame as you glanced back at him. “This isn’t about me caring,” you said quietly, though even you could hear the lie in your voice. “This is about you sending him to a place that’s going to tear him apart, and expecting someone else to pick up the pieces.”

Charles’s gaze softened, his voice almost a whisper. “I’m not expecting anything, my dear. I’m simply reminding you that you have a choice. Just as he does.”

You stared at him, your chest tightening as the weight of his words pressed against the walls you’d so carefully built around yourself. Without another word, you turned and walked out, the faint echo of your footsteps fading down the hall.

Later that night, you found yourself sitting by the window in your room, the pointe shoes you’d brought with you resting in your lap. The moonlight spilled across the polished floor, painting the room in silvery shadows.

You hadn’t danced since the day Logan had interrupted you in the theatre, but now, your legs ached with the restless energy that only movement could soothe. Setting the shoes aside, you rose to your feet and began to move, the quiet hum of your memories guiding your steps.

But no matter how hard you tried to lose yourself in the rhythm, his words echoed in your mind.

“I’ve had these dreams. Flashes of… I don’t know, a forest. Snow. And you. You’re there. You’re always there.”

You faltered mid-spin, your movements slowing until you stood completely still, your chest heaving with shallow breaths. The memories he didn’t fully understand were ones you couldn’t forget. The snow, the forest, the way his eyes—wilder, more broken than—had locked onto yours as if you were the only thing tethering him to the world.

You sat back down on the edge of the bed, resting your head in your hands. You had told yourself that coming back to the mansion was about the kids, about the familiar comforts of a place you’d once called home. But deep down, you knew it was about him.

And now he was gone.

You didn’t know whether to feel relieved or heartbroken, but one thing was certain—if Logan ever truly remembered everything, you weren’t sure either of you would survive it.

౨ৎ ˖ ࣪⊹🦢⊹₊ ⋆୨ৎ

You descended the staircase beside Hank, nodding absentmindedly as he launched into an animated explanation of his latest research—something about neural pathways and genetic mutations. It was fascinating, you were sure, but your thoughts had drifted. A week had passed since you returned to the mansion, and yet it still felt strange to slip so easily back into the rhythm of this place, like stepping into an old pair of shoes you’d forgotten you owned.

“Logan! You’re back!”

Rogue’s excited voice cut through the air, and you froze mid-step, your hand tightening on the polished wood of the banister. Your eyes darted to the entrance below, where Logan stood just inside the door, a worn duffel bag slung over his shoulder. He looked as gruff as ever, his jacket unzipped and his hair slightly mussed, but there was a faint smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth as Rogue darted across the hall to embrace him.

You lingered on the stairs, watching the exchange with a small smile. Rogue stepped back, saying something too low for you to hear, and Logan responded with a grunt that made her laugh. The sight of it tugged at something in your chest—something you weren’t ready to name.

“Wonder why he’s back,” Hank said beside you, his voice low and tinged with curiosity.

You didn’t miss the knowing look he gave you, and you sighed, swatting his arm lightly. “Don’t start,” you said, your voice teasing but edged with a hint of nervousness.

Still, your heart raced, betraying the calm exterior you were trying so hard to maintain. The thought crossed your mind—fleeting and impossible—that maybe Logan had come back because you were here. But no. That wasn’t how things worked. You had left before him, made it clear you didn’t intend to stay, and Logan… well, Logan wasn’t the sentimental type.

As you descended the last few steps, Hank still at your side, Logan’s gaze lifted. His smirk faded as his sharp eyes found yours, and for a second, something flickered across his face. Surprise? Relief? It was gone before you could name it, replaced by his usual guarded expression.

“You… made it back,” you said, your voice softer than you intended as you offered him a faint smile.

Logan’s brow twitched, and he set his duffel bag down by his feet. “Looks like we both did,” he said gruffly, his voice carrying that familiar gravelly tone that always sounded like he’d just woken up.

“Wasn’t planning on it,” you admitted, stepping off the last stair. “But, you know… this place has a way of dragging you back.”

“Yeah,” Logan said, his lips twitching as though he might smile. “Does that.”

There was a beat of silence, not quite awkward but heavy enough to feel like the air between you had changed somehow. Hank, ever the socially astute one, cleared his throat and patted you lightly on the shoulder. “Well, I’ll leave you two to… catch up. I have some experiments to check on.”

You shot him a warning look, but he just grinned and disappeared down the hall dragging Rogue along with him. Leaving you alone with Logan.

“So,” you said after a moment, folding your arms casually. “Alkali Lake. Find what you were looking for?”

Logan let out a low huff, shaking his head as he rubbed the back of his neck. “Nah. Nothin’ there but snow and bad memories.”

You nodded, though your chest tightened at his words. You’d told yourself you wouldn’t let this get to you, wouldn’t let your emotions bubble to the surface. But it was hard. You knew what Alkali Lake meant, not just to him but to you as well.

“Well,” you said lightly, forcing a smirk. “Guess you can cross that one off the list.”

“Yeah,” he said, watching you carefully. “Guess so.”

There was a pause, his eyes narrowing slightly as if he were working up to something. You shifted under his gaze, feeling the weight of it settle on your shoulders.

“What?” you asked, arching an eyebrow.

“Had another dream,” he said suddenly, his tone casual, but there was an edge to it, something unspoken lingering beneath his words.

You froze, your smirk faltering. “Oh yeah?”

Logan nodded, his gaze never leaving yours. “You were in it again.”

Your heart thudded in your chest, but you forced yourself to play it cool. “You sure it wasn’t Rogue this time? Or Storm? Maybe I’m just a stand-in for all the women in your life.”

He huffed out a short laugh, shaking his head. “Nah. It was you.” He stepped a little closer, his sharp eyes narrowing slightly, studying your face as if he were trying to piece together a puzzle. “This time you were… dancin’.”

The breath hitched in your throat, and you felt the heat rise to your cheeks. You broke eye contact, looking down at the scuffed floorboards. “Sounds like a weird dream,” you said, your voice quiet.

“Yeah,” he said, his tone softer now. “Weird thing is, it felt… familiar.”

You looked back up at him sharply, your stomach twisting. “Familiar how?”

Logan shrugged, the movement almost too casual, but his brow furrowed as though he were trying to make sense of something. “Don’t know. I just… felt like I’d seen it before. You, up on some stage or somethin’, spinnin’ around. There was music. Somethin’ old… Swan Lake, maybe?”

Your throat tightened. The memory flashed in your mind—the theatre, the faint strains of Swan Lake, the way you’d let yourself get lost in the dance only to find Logan watching you from the shadows.

“Well,” you said finally, forcing a smirk. “Maybe you’re just jealous of my skills.”

Logan snorted, his lips twitching upward. “Yeah, sure. That’s it.”

He held your gaze for a second longer, and you thought you saw the faintest flicker of something in his eyes—something uncertain, almost vulnerable. But then he stepped back, picking up his duffel bag and slinging it over his shoulder.

“Good to see you back,” he said gruffly, his voice dropping just enough that you almost missed it. “Place is better with you here.”

Before you could respond, he turned and started walking down the hall, leaving you standing there, your chest tight and your thoughts swirling.

Logan might not remember everything, but the pieces were there buried just beneath the surface. And whether you liked it or not, it seemed those pieces included you.

౨ৎ ˖ ࣪⊹🦢⊹₊ ⋆୨ৎ

“Charles suggested I… help him,” you said, your tone sharp as you leaned against Hank’s lab table. The polished steel was cold under your hands, grounding you as you tried to organize your thoughts. “Can you believe that? The old man won’t use his powers to look inside Logan’s mind, but he expects me to do it—in some weird, roundabout sense.”

Hank hummed thoughtfully, his attention divided as he adjusted the burner beneath a bubbling beaker. “Charles has his methods,” he said evenly. “Though I suspect he thinks you’d be a better help because you… knew Logan. From before.”

Your stomach tightened, and you crossed your arms over your chest, your gaze dropping to the tiled floor. “Hank, I’ve known almost everyone. I’ve been alive longer than any of you. It doesn’t mean I have all the answers.” You hesitated, then added in a softer voice, “And you can’t expect me to just… spill my guts to him. What if it triggers something in him? The feral side?”

That made Hank pause. He looked up from his work, concern creasing his blue-furred face. “I’ve heard about that side of him,” he said cautiously, “but I’ve never seen it in person.” His voice lowered. “Have you?”

The question made your chest tighten even more, your heart thudding against your ribs. You turned away, your eyes settling on a shelf of meticulously labeled vials, pretending to study them.

“We’ve seen it, haven’t we?” Hank pressed, his tone gentler now.

Finally, you nodded, the memory bubbling to the surface unbidden. “Yeah,” you said quietly. “I’ve seen it.”

Hank tilted his head, his expression shifting from curiosity to quiet concern. “My dear,” he said carefully, “you’ve always made it seem as though you knew Logan in passing… like acquaintances from a battlefield. But…” His voice trailed off, and he straightened, his sharp eyes narrowing slightly as realization dawned. “You’re not telling me something, are you?”

You exhaled sharply, shaking your head as if to dismiss the thought. “Hank, it doesn’t matter. It happened a long time ago. Just let it go.”

“What happened a long time ago?”

You gritted your teeth, frustration flaring in your chest. “It’s complicated,” you said, your voice low.

“I’ve got time,” Hank replied simply, leaning against the counter and folding his massive arms across his chest.

You threw him a look, but the patience in his gaze—the quiet, unyielding kind that Hank was so good at—made you falter. You pushed off the table and started to pace, running a hand through your hair as you tried to organize your thoughts.

“I met Logan decades ago,” you began, your voice tight. “During a war. A different one from the ones the X-Men are used to. He wasn’t like he is now. He was wilder, more dangerous. Barely in control of himself. A weapon, not a man.”

Hank’s brows furrowed. “Weapon X?”

You shook your head. “No. This was before that. This was… something else. Something darker.”

You stopped pacing, your arms falling to your sides as the memory gripped you. “I was passing through this remote town in the Canadian Rockies. Just trying to stay out of the way, you know? That’s what I did back then. I didn’t get involved. Didn’t put down roots. And then…” You swallowed hard, your voice dropping. “Then I heard the screams.”

Hank’s ears twitched, his expression unreadable as he watched you.

“There were bodies,” you continued, your voice distant now. “Shredded. Blood everywhere. And in the middle of it was him. Logan. He wasn’t himself—not the man you know now. He was… feral. An animal. He couldn’t even speak. Just growled and snarled like a beast.”

Hank adjusted his glasses, his expression turning grim. “And you fought him?”

You let out a dry laugh, though there was no humor in it. “I tried. I had to. He was killing anything that moved. I thought I could stop him, but… I underestimated him. He tore through me like paper.”

Hank’s eyes widened. “But your healing—”

“Exactly,” you cut in, nodding. “He saw me heal. Saw me get back up when I should’ve stayed down. I think it… confused him. Maybe even snapped him out of it a little. He stopped attacking me, but he didn’t calm down completely. He just… stared at me. Like he didn’t know whether to rip me apart or run.”

“And what did you do?”

You hesitated, your gaze drifting to the window. The late afternoon light spilled into the lab, casting long shadows across the floor. “I didn’t run,” you said softly. “I stayed. I talked to him. Calmed him down somehow. It was like he recognized something in me, though I didn’t know what it was at the time. I stayed with him for weeks after that. Helped him regain some sense of himself. Taught him how to fight his instincts. We… we bonded.”

The last words came out quieter than you intended, and you felt Hank’s gaze sharpen.

“You didn’t just know him,” Hank said slowly, as though the pieces were finally coming together. “You cared about him.”

You looked away, your jaw tightening. “I left when he got better. Disappeared. I thought it was for the best. And now he doesn’t even remember me. So, yeah, Charles wants me to help him, but I don’t know if I can. And even if I could… I don’t know if I should.”

The room was quiet for a long moment, the bubbling of the beaker the only sound. Finally, Hank sighed, his voice softer now. “Perhaps you underestimate how much of you he might still remember, even if it’s not clear to him yet.”

You shook your head, the weight of your thoughts pressing down like an old, familiar burden. “He doesn’t remember. At least, not the whole picture. And honestly? It’s better that way.” Your voice softened, but a bitter edge crept into it. “He shouldn’t have to remember all the pain he caused. All the blood.”

Hank froze for a moment, his hands stilling over the set of vials he was arranging. The soft hum of the equipment filled the silence as he carefully chose his words. “I understand—”

“No, you don’t.” You cut him off, the sharpness in your tone surprising even yourself. You turned toward him, your arms crossed tightly over your chest. “Hank, if you had lived as long as we have… seen the things we’ve seen, done the things we’ve done… You’d want to forget too. You’d want it wiped clean, all of it. Trust me.”

Hank straightened, his broad shoulders rising slightly as he considered your words. “You’re speaking for Logan,” he said slowly, his voice calm but firm. “You’re deciding for him.”

Your eyes flicked away, focusing on the far corner of the lab. It was easier than meeting his gaze.

“It’s not like Logan was given a choice back then,” Hank continued, his tone softening but losing none of its weight. “And now he has one. A chance to choose for himself who he wants to be—what he wants to know. You’re taking that away from him by deciding for him.”

The words hit harder than you wanted to admit, threading a knot of tension through your chest. You opened your mouth to argue, to say something to push back against Hank’s steady reasoning, but no words came.

Instead, you closed your eyes, exhaling slowly through your nose. “I’m not taking anything away from him,” you said finally, your voice tight. “I’m just trying to protect him.”

“Protect him?” Hank asked, his eyebrows rising slightly. “From what? From himself?”

“From the truth!” you snapped, your voice rising before you could stop it. The words hung in the air between you, raw and unfiltered, and you took a step back, shaking your head as if to banish the emotions bubbling to the surface.

Hank studied you carefully, his blue eyes searching yours. “You don’t believe he deserves the truth, do you?”

Your laugh came out bitter, almost hollow. “Deserve? What does that even mean? Deserve doesn’t matter when it comes to this. What Logan’s been through, what he’s done—he deserves peace. And that’s not something he’s going to find at the bottom of a memory.”

Hank tilted his head, his expression a mix of empathy and challenge. “You think peace is ignorance?”

“I think…” you said slowly, your voice faltering. “I think there are some things you can’t come back from. Some things you shouldn’t have to come back from.”

“And yet he keeps fighting,” Hank said, his voice quieter now. “Every day, Logan fights to be better. To be more than what he’s been through, more than what was done to him. But you… you’re standing in his way.”

His words struck like a blow, and for a moment, you couldn’t breathe.

“I’m not standing in his way,” you said finally, but the words felt hollow.

“Are you sure about that?” Hank asked, his tone gentle but unwavering.

You turned away, gripping the edge of the lab table so tightly your knuckles turned white. “He doesn’t need to remember me,” you said after a long pause, your voice barely above a whisper. “Or what happened back then. He doesn’t need to carry that weight.”

Hank hesitated before stepping closer, his voice soft but unrelenting. “Maybe. But are you sure this is about what he needs? Or is it about what you don’t want to face?”

The question hung in the air like a loaded gun, and you couldn’t bring yourself to answer it.

౨ৎ ˖ ࣪⊹🦢⊹₊ ⋆୨ৎ

Later that night, you found yourself sitting alone on the stage, the empty theatre shrouded in silence. Your legs stretched out in front of you, the ribbons of your pointe shoes loose around your ankles. Though the music had long since stopped, the soft strings of a violin still lingered in your mind, weaving through the restless thoughts you couldn’t escape.

Dancing used to help, used to be your escape when the weight of everything threatened to crush you. It felt like it only made things worse. The memories, the what-ifs, the fears you’d buried so deeply—all of it rose to the surface when you moved. Hank had been right, and you hated it.

It wasn’t just about Logan. It was about you. About the things you didn’t want to revisit, the things you’d worked so hard to leave behind. The terrifying truth was, if Logan ever pieced it all together—if he ever remembered everything—you weren’t sure either of you could handle it.

The quiet creak of the double doors opening snapped you out of your thoughts. You froze, your hands resting on your ankles as Logan stepped into the theatre, the dim light catching the sharp angles of his face. He looked more relaxed than he had when you first saw him after returning from Alkali Lake, like some of the tension he always carried had finally eased. Maybe his trip had given him some kind of closure. Maybe it had only left him with more questions.

You didn’t know which possibility scared you more.

You dropped your gaze to your pointe shoes, fingers fumbling with the ribbons as if untying them could somehow distract you from the way Logan’s gaze lingered on you.

He snorted, the sound soft but amused as he moved farther into the room. “Didn’t feel like dancin’ tonight?” he asked, his gravelly voice carrying a faint teasing edge.

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t stop the faint smile that tugged at your lips. “What do you want, Logan?”

He shrugged, stepping farther down the aisle until he was close enough for you to feel the weight of his presence. His expression shifted, the smirk fading as his sharp eyes narrowed. “Figured I’d check in. You’ve been avoidin’ me since I got back.”

“I’ve been busy,” you said quickly, tugging your pointe shoes off and setting them beside you. The excuse sounded thin even to your ears.

“Yeah,” Logan said, his voice flat as he folded his arms over his chest. “Sure you have.”

You sighed, pulling your legs up onto the stage and crossing them in front of you as if the position could shield you from the intensity of his gaze. “What do you want, Logan?”

His gaze dropped to the floor before lifting again to meet yours. “I think we both know the answer to that,” he said quietly, stepping closer to the edge of the stage. “You’re keepin’ stuff from me.”

Your breath caught, and you forced yourself to laugh softly, shaking your head. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Yeah, you do,” Logan said, his voice low and firm. He stepped up onto the stage, closing the distance between you. “You know exactly what I’m talkin’ about.”

You looked away, focusing on the empty rows of seats stretching out into the shadows of the theatre. “Logan, I—”

“Cut the crap,” he interrupted, his tone sharper now. “Every time I get close to somethin’, you shut me out. Every time I try to figure out what the hell’s goin’ on in my head, you’re there, lookin’ at me like you already know the answers.” He paused, his voice softening just enough to make your chest ache. “You do, don’t you?”

Your hands tightened in your lap, your nails digging into your palms as you tried to steady your breathing. “It’s not that simple,” you said finally, your voice barely above a whisper.

Logan snorted, his frustration simmering just beneath the surface. “Nothin’s ever simple with you, is it?”

“Logan, please,” you said, finally meeting his gaze. “Let it go.”

He shook his head, stepping even closer until he was standing right in front of you. “No. Not this time.” His voice was quiet but resolute, the kind of tone that left no room for argument. “I went to Alkali Lake and found nothin’ but ghosts. I keep havin’ these dreams, these flashes, and half the time, you’re in ‘em. You tell me to let it go? How the hell am I supposed to do that when I know there’s more? When I know you’re holdin’ somethin’ back?”

You stared at him, your chest tightening under the weight of his words. “You don’t want to remember,” you said softly, your voice trembling. “Not all of it. Trust me, Logan. You don’t.”

His jaw tightened, his fists clenching at his sides. “That’s not your call to make.”

“Isn’t it?” you shot back, your voice rising as the emotions you’d been suppressing finally broke free. “Do you have any idea what’s buried in your head? What remembering could do to you?”

Logan’s eyes narrowed, his voice dropping to a dangerous quiet. “What’s buried in yours?”

The question hit like a punch to the gut, and all you could do was stare at him. Finally, you looked away, your gaze dropping to the floor. “It’s not about me,” you said weakly.

“Bullshit,” Logan said, stepping closer until he was towering over you. “This is about you just as much as it’s about me. You’re scared, aren’t you? Scared of what I’ll remember. Of what it’ll mean for you.”

Your throat tightened, and you swallowed hard, fighting back the sting of tears. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Logan crouched in front of you, forcing you to meet his gaze. His eyes were sharp, but there was something softer, almost pleading. “Then tell me. Tell me what I don’t know.”

You shook your head, tears threatening to spill over as you whispered, “I can’t.”

“Why?” Logan’s voice cracked, and for the first time, you saw the vulnerability beneath his gruff exterior. “Why can’t you tell me?”

“Because it’ll break you,” you said, your voice trembling. “And I can’t be the one to do that to you, Logan. I won’t.”

The two of you just stared at each other, the silence between you heavy with unspoken truths. Finally, Logan stood, running a hand through his hair as he stepped back.

“I’m not gonna stop,” he said, his voice low but steady. “I’m not gonna stop until I figure it out. Until I figure us out.”

You looked up at him, your heart aching at the determination in his eyes. “Logan—”

He shook his head, cutting you off, his tone low but firm. “No more runnin’, darlin’. Not from me. Not from this.”

Your breath hitched, and you looked away, blinking hard to fight the tears threatening to spill. “You—you can’t just expect me to tell you everything,” you whispered, your voice trembling.

“Why not?” Logan said, his gaze piercing as he stepped closer. “Is it a long story? I’ve got the time—we both do.” His voice softened slightly at the end, but the determination in his tone didn’t waver.

You let out a shaky laugh, wiping at your face with the back of your hand. “It’s not that simple.”

“All I hear are excuses,” Logan snapped, his frustration bleeding into his voice. “Excuses from Chuck about my mind bein’ too fragile. Excuses about how I’ve gotta ‘find the answers myself.’” He gestured toward you, his movements sharp. “And now excuses from you about dreams bein’ just dreams. Do you think I can’t handle it? You think I don’t deserve to know what the hell’s been bouncin’ around in my head all this time?”

“It’s not about what you deserve, Logan!” you shot back, your voice cracking as you stood suddenly, your body tense with emotion. “It’s about what you can survive. You don’t know the weight of it—the guilt, the anger, the regret. You think finding all the pieces is going to fix you, but it’s not. It’s just going to break you more.”

Logan stared at you, his jaw tight, his fists clenched at his sides. But something in his eyes—something raw and pleading—made you falter. His voice softened, the edge fading. “Maybe it will. Maybe it won’t. But it’s not your call to make. It’s mine.”

The truth of his words cut through your defenses like claws, and you sank back onto the stage, your hands gripping your knees as you tried to steady your breathing. The silence between you stretched, heavy and charged.

Finally, you broke it, your voice quiet but resolute. “Fine.”

Logan’s head tilted slightly, his sharp gaze narrowing as he tried to gauge your meaning.

“I’ll tell you,” you said, swallowing hard as you looked up at him. “But I can’t promise it’s going to be pretty. And I can’t promise it’s not going to hurt.”

Logan’s posture relaxed ever so slightly, and he exhaled, his shoulders dropping as he moved toward you. He sat down beside you on the stage, the movement slow and deliberate. His elbow brushed against yours, and the quiet warmth of his presence steadied the storm inside you, if only for a moment.

“I ain’t lookin’ for pretty,” he said quietly, his tone gentle now. “And I’m not afraid of hurtin’. Just… tell me the truth. That’s all I want.”

You stared at the floor for a long moment, your hands twisting in your lap as memories you’d buried for years rose to the surface, raw and unrelenting. Finally, you took a deep breath, your voice shaking as you began. “We crossed paths again a long time ago.”

Logan frowned slightly, his brows furrowing. “Again?”

You nodded, glancing at him out of the corner of your eye. “It was…after everything happened when I first found you.” You hesitated, your voice dropping. “I thought I’d never see you again. Honestly, I hoped I wouldn’t. Not because I didn’t care, but because… because you deserved a fresh start. You needed one.”

Logan didn’t respond, but his silence was expectant, urging you to continue.

“I was in New York,” you said softly, a faint, bittersweet smile tugging at your lips. “Dancing. There was this small theatre, nothing fancy, but it was mine. I was performing that night—Swan Lake, actually. I remember being backstage, nerves eating at me like they always did before a show. And then the curtain rose, and I…” You paused, shaking your head at the memory. “I saw you. In the audience.”

Logan’s brow furrowed, confusion flickering across his face. “Me?”

You nodded, your smile fading. “You were sitting in the second row, staring at me like you’d seen a ghost. I almost stumbled through my first few steps because I couldn’t believe it was you. You looked… different. Cleaner. Put together. But the way you watched me—it was like you remembered something. Something buried.”

Logan’s jaw tightened, and his gaze dropped to the floor as if searching for the memory.

“When the performance ended,” you continued, “I went backstage, thinking you’d leave. That maybe it was just my mind playing tricks on me. But when I came out, you were still there. Waiting. I didn’t know what to say, but then you said it first.”

Logan glanced at you, his voice quiet. “What’d I say?”

You hesitated, the memory sharp in your mind. “You said, ‘It’s you. You’re the one who helped me.’”

His expression shifted, his eyes narrowing slightly as though trying to piece together fragments of a puzzle. “I remembered you?”

“Some of it,” you said softly. “Not everything, but enough. Enough to know we’d met before. Enough to know I’d helped you when you weren’t… yourself.” You exhaled shakily, your hands trembling in your lap. “We went out afterward. Got drinks at some dingy little bar down the street. You asked me why I helped you back then, and I didn’t know how to answer. So I told you the truth.”

Logan looked at you, his voice rough. “What truth?”

You met his gaze, your eyes glassy. “That I didn’t want to. That I’d seen what you were capable of, and it terrified me. But there was something about you, Logan. Something human buried under all that rage. And I thought… I thought if I could just reach you, maybe you wouldn’t be lost forever.”

The room fell silent, the weight of your confession settling between you like a fragile thread. Logan’s gaze didn’t leave yours, his expression unreadable but his eyes impossibly soft.

“You were right,” he said finally, his voice low but steady.

You blinked, your breath catching. “What?”

“You reached me,” he said, leaning forward slightly, his elbows resting on his knees. “I don’t remember all of it, but I know one thing: you didn’t let me go. You could’ve, but you didn’t. And that…” He shook his head, his lips twitching into the faintest of smiles. “That’s somethin’ I won’t forget, even if the details are gone.”

Tears welled in your eyes, and you looked away, wiping at them quickly. “I don’t know if I helped you, Logan. Not really.”

“You did,” he said firmly, his voice leaving no room for doubt. “You still do.”

The words hung in the air but they carried a weight that settled deep in your chest. Logan reached over, his rough hand covering yours briefly before pulling back. The touch was fleeting but enough to let you know he meant it.

[strawberriesoup]

there’s always tomorrow ٠࣪⭑

── .✦ sometimes actions speak louder than words

genre: jisung x reader, established relationship, comfort, angst, drabble

warnings: none

wc: .5k

a/n: i’m a sucker for wordless support ok? also i was in such a bad writing slump so hopefully im on my way up! this was just a little practice drabble. i hope you enjoy!❤️

taglist: @jisunggy @holly-here @hannamoon143 @fly-you-dam-fools @hannieslittlerockstar

(if you would like to be added to my taglist, you can comment or message me!)

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

Three soft knocks at your door beckon your attention.

Getting up and opening the door seems too daunting of a task at the moment, so the best response you can conjure up is a grunt of affirmation. Or dismissal. Honestly, it could be taken either way. Your opinion is neutral on that subject.

You are certain if your vision wasn’t obscured by your arm you would be able to pair the soft click of the door opening with the image of Jisung, clad with a tense mouth and furrowed brows, peeking tentatively into the room. You make no effort to move your arm.

No words are spoken, but the soft padding of socked feet across the carpet speak volumes. He walks quickly but quietly, taking care not to step on the pile of clothes in front of your bed, or the broken alarm clock that rests under a suspicious dent in the wall.

His presence settles over you as he sets himself down on the bed. Close enough that you can feel the dip of the mattress but far enough so that you can’t feel his warmth.

You’re not sure how long you lie there, listening to Jisung’s steady whistles of breath. You know you could roll over right now and bury your worries in his embrace. The thought of his fingers carding through your hair whilst murmuring a gentle tune makes you briefly consider throwing yourself on him like some small child.

Before you can make up your mind, you feel a tap on your arm. A question.

Upon peering over the edge of your arm with eyes you’re quite sure are bloodshot, you are met with Jisung’s troubled eyes. A pang of guilt rockets through your stomach. You’re worrying him. Gaze mingling between your own, he searches for something, any sign of what you might need from him. You close your eyes, unable to face his concern.

Once again free from the prying eyes of the world, you relax your arm, and it falls from your face to the bed with a quiet thump.

A touch. So slight you might have mistaken it for a shift in the air. Fingers ghost up your arm and across your cheek, settling under your chin. Jisung presses his mouth to your temple, lingering for several moments before pulling back.

His touch is comforting and his kiss is warm, but all too quickly the sparks fade to the back of your mind, leaving the fog to settle once again.

Gathering up your willpower, you pull yourself onto your knees, looking up at him. You wonder if he realizes that he crinkles up the edges of his nose when he’s worried. Jisung’s arms spread open, offering you his embrace to which you retreat so often. Nothing can hurt you there.

You all but hurl yourself onto him, small, shaky breaths finally releasing from your lungs as he captures you between his arms. He folds himself over you, tracing circles across your trembling back, keeping your troubles at bay until you still beneath his fingertips.

Maybe it’s best to try again tomorrow.

[jayhyunglover]

Mr&Mrs

Pairing: Zayne x non MC! reader

Part 2 to Send my love to your next lover

Synopsis : is he really going to let her go? (no MF go get your girl). You and Zayne have been married for 2 years already but after realizing you probably weren't the one he longed for , you had no choice but leave.

Content: angst , hurt/comfort , smut (I am still ovulating leave me alone) , oral sex (because Zayne is a munch) , unprotected sex (p in v), switch! Zayne , switch! reader

A/N : that's the fourth time I am uploading this if Tumblr make it disappear in a black hole I swear I am gonna...

Edit: hopefully Tumblr didn't make it disappear as I thought, here's part 2 finally finally . Y'all are lucky I am ovulating and boosting with energy if not you'd be getting triple dic- I mean triple angst (no I didn't) , also I just realized the song is send my love to your new lover and not next 💀 , any way I yap too much . Happy reading!!

Now playing : Send my love to your new lover by Adele

Send my love to your new lover played for the 17th time through your headphones, small droplets of tears falling off your cheeks on your lap. 

This was for the best you thought. 

He will be happy,  now he will sign the divorce papers , you will be finally free.

Then why did your heart hurt so badly ? Why did it feel like it was getting wrenched out of your chest and tossed on the floor? 

You wiped your small tears when you caught a little brown haired girl looking at you curiously. 

You offered her a small smile trying to not appear scary but you knew with those heavy eye bags you looked more like a frightening panda than anything. 

What were you thinking , crying your eyes out in a restaurant known for their family gathering while you just lost yours? Pathetic 

To your surprise, the little girl approached you ,her fluffy brown hair bouncing with every step. 

When she finally reached the table where you were sitting at , she pulled out a small flower from her pouch. 

A fragile blue spider  Lily,  faded due to being confined in this small place, longing for sunlight and water just like your heart longing for Zayne's love. 

“Mom said the best way to comfort someone is to offer them something meaningful” she spoke up , her small fluttery voice sending a pang through you. 

“T-thank you” you murmured,  sniffling before taking the small flower from her chubby hands

“You're welcome” she smiled, showing off small dimples that reminded of all the times you managed to pull out a smile from Zayne. 

It always got your heart racing 

“Also smile , pretty lady , crying makes you look ugly” she added, making your eyes widen. 

“Oh sorry” you apologized,  quickly wiping the remnants of your tears,  your cheeks heating up slightly. 

The little menace gave you a toothy  smile before running off to her mom. Leaving you flabbergasted but less depressed. 

With your flower clutched firmly in your hand , you walked down the street,  intending to head to your best friend's house since you didn't want to see Zayne anymore. 

 The wounds were too fresh to throw salt in them. 

“Fuck” you cursed , trying your best to cover yourself with your cardigan as the raindrops started to splatter on your face and hair. 

“You shouldn't stay there , it's raining”

 Zayne's words barely reached your ears too entranced by the sight in front of you. 

“Don't you like the rain , Dr Zayne?” You offered him a sheepish grin , twirling like a fool under the pouring raindrops 

“I dont like the prospect of you catching a cold” he retorted in that familiar monotone voice but the twinkle of concern in his hazel eyes spoke volume.

“Worried about me ?” You chuckled

“You know I am” he retorted without missing a beat , the words sending a warm feeling spreading throughout you despite the cold water soaking through your clothes.

“Let's get you inside Mrs Li” he grabbed your hand to intertwine your fingers and guide you back home . 

Mrs Li . How you loved when he called you that? 

You blinked back your vision, a shiver running through you as you realized you were still standing under the rain and there was no handsome husband/doctor guiding you back home. 

It was all the past now. 

You resumed walking,  now literally jogging to get home as fast as possible. 

 You were lying on the couch , wrapped in a fluffy blanket while Queen of tears was playing on the TV. 

Gulping down spoonful after spoonful of vanilla ice cream,  you were trying to drown out your sorrow but it seemed like this K drama wasn't the right choice for your frayed nerves 

Damn it I should've put Squid Game s2 and giggle at Goong Yoo hotness . 

Maddie your bestfriend went on date with her boyfriend and won't come back until tomorrow which left you , your broken heart and this ton of ice cream in the otherwise empty house. 

You were about to switch the streaming device and play Squid Game as you should've since 2 hours ago when a knock at the Dorado your ears perk up . 

Did Maddie's boyfriend ditch her? 

You didn't know why a selfish part of you was happy at this prospect but quickly squashed it down and got up from the couch to see who it was

The knocking got more fervent as if the person on the other side was desperate. 

“I am coming” you gruffed out , making your way to the front door.  Only  when you opened it , you quickly closed it off .

Why on earth is your soon to be ex husband is standing in front of your (bestfriend) porch ? 

Zayne's eyes widened when you slammed the door shut on his face , every last remnants of hope he had vanishing. 

He was soaked through the bones , hair damp from running under the pouring rain , searching everywhere for you . He might've caught a cold at this rate but he didn't give a damn . He had to find you and now that he finally did you shut the door at his face. 

“Darling” he rested his forehead against the wooden door. 

The familiar nickname had your gut twisting in a very very painful way. 

Why is he here? It hadn't been 24 yours since you left your shared house. 

“I know you're behind this door” he continued. His voice was rough from exhaustion.  He still hadn't has any rest since 24 hours and it was clearly taking a toll on him. 

“Please let me in” he pleaded , small tears running down his cheek,  heart squeezing painfully in his chest. 

Your body slid down against the door , your head resting against the wood ina way that mirrored his own gesture without you knowing. 

“I know I've hurt you” he choked out , voice roughened by his sobs “I know I don't deserve your pretty smile and your sweet laugh,  I know I dont deserve you..” 

Every words,  he spoke was like a dagger they thrusted straight through your chest. It was burning,  painful , making it hard for you to breathe,  to speak.  

“..and I understand if you don't want to see me anymore , I'll sign those damn divorces paper and set you free as you wish” he added , wiping his tears with his hands,  hazel eyes growing red from crying and fatigue 

“But I just want you to know that there won't be any next lover after you , you'll be my last , my love” he bent down to slide something under the door , 

A letter , no your letter. 

“I love you Mrs Li” he whispered before turning on his heels intending to leave  finally you alone 

But you wouldn't let him , not after that,  not after he went all this way under the rain , the rain he hated so much just for you. 

Zayne's steps were resigned as he made his way out , heart heavy with sorrows. 

Just as he stepped under the rain , the door fled open revealing your form clad in sleep short and an oversized shirt. 

His breath got caught in his throat, his whole body going still. 

It's been only 24 hours and yet it felt like forever since he hasn't seen you. 

You approached him slowly,  the letter still clutched tightly in your hand , your tears mixing with the pouring water as you stepped under the rain as well. 

“You-” you didn't know what to sat what to do . Your mind was a whirlwind of emotions , sadness , anger ,relief,  joy all mixing in a concoction that had your head spinning. 

“I love you too” you finally spoke , your words nothing short than a shout under the  rain that was getting more violent just like the storm inside of you. 

“I loved you even when I felt I shouldn't anymore , even when you made me feel like I shouldn't anymore” 

Zayne stood there listening to your heartfelt confessions not daring to move an inch or even breathe too loudly. His hair was sticking to his forehead,  his work clothes damp , turtleneck sticking to his skin. 

“I LOVE YOU ZAYNE LI” you shouted again , voice breaking at the end. Your heartbeat too loud to be drowned out by the sound of tha ragging rain , your feelings too raw to process . The man in front of you too still for someone you just confessed to. 

Zayne always knew you loved him , you always said it and showed it in all the way you could but this felt different,  raw , heartfelt.

Your eyes widened comically when Zayne closed the distance between you in 2 strides , capturing your lips in an heated kiss. 

A kiss where he poured all his unspoken feelings,  his longing , guilt , love , the love that made him.wa and fuzzy even under the cold rain . The rain that washed away your pain , sorrows , guilt leaving your blossoming love like spider lilies blooming in autumn. 

“I love you too Mrs Li” he murmured against your lips before kissing you again more fervently,  tongue licking the small droplets on your bottom lip “so damn much” he added between kisses, his hands cradling your head so gently as though you'd break. 

“I love you” you whispered between needy kisses , lips devouring each other's as if you were starving , the weather didn't even matter in this moment, whether it was raining or snowing or even if an earthquake was happening you couldn't give a damn. Just you needed to keep kissing this man. 

With your hands wrapping around his neck to bring him closer to you . His own on your waist to press your body closer to his. His wet hair tickled  your skin when he started to pepper kisses down your jaw. 

Only pulling away when he was sure you were a breathless mess , chest heaving up and down , droopy eyes that were filled with tears earlier looking at him in a way that made his knees weak. 

“I love you , my wife” he whispered before leaving a small kiss on your forehead , thumbs stroking your cheeks gently 

“I love you even more , my husband” you tiptoed to leave a small kiss on his nose 

“I don't think this is a competition,  Darling but trust me I can show you just how much I love you” his voice in your hear was low heated whisper that sent shivers down your spine . Shivers that has nothing to do with your damp clothes 

“Then show me , husband” your hold on his neck tightened,  bringing his face closer to yours. 

You saw a look of surprise pass through his eyes but it disappeared as soon as it appeared leaving a twinkle of mischief in his eyes. 

“Oh I'll show you wife” the way he said those words,  like a secret promise made your stomach twist in knots,  the lower region of your belly heating up with the rest of your body. 

His strong arms picked you up effortlessly,  your legs wrapping automatically around his lean waist , sticky clothes clinging to you like a second skin. 

Your lips reattached once again as he carried inside the house , his footsteps leaving a wet trail behind that will have Maddie shrieking out hysterically when she'd return but you'll deal with that later . Now all you could focus on was the man kissing you like this was the last time he'd able to. 

By the time you reached the guest room you were staying on which was a miracle with how impatient he seemed to be- you and Zayne already shirt already lost your shirts leaving you only in your bottoms 

He laid you gently on the bed before hovering above you , eyes gazing down at you so tenderly , so lovingly it made you look away. 

“No ,my love. I want you to look at me” he turned your head back to him to plant a soft kiss on your mouth. 

“don't hide this beautiful face from me” he whispered against your skin. 

The adoration in his gaze and voice made your skin prickle , your mind growing hazier and more lightheaded.

“Let me admire you” his compliments and words of praise went straight to your heart , head and cunt making it twitch and ache for his touch . 

His lips left a trail of torturous kisses on your neck chest and shoulders,  his cold hands caressing your body as if he was mapping it out for the first time. His touch tended and reverent like he was worshipping every inch of you. 

How could he had been so blind? Zayne thought. 

How could hasn't he seen how perfect you were for him? 

It didn't matter now he hoped at least he got you back right right ? 

Distracting himself from his thoughts he wrapped his lips around the stiff peak of your nipple to suck harshly making you cry out loud 

“Zayne” his name left you in a moan , hand reaching out to pet his damp hair. Your nails lightly scraping his scalp in a way that made him nearly purr against you. 

See , so perfect to him. 

“I don't deserve you” he murmured against your breast shifting to gave the other the same amount of attention 

“Yeah” you breathed out in a small gasp “but I want you anyway” 

Zayne's lips curved into a smile around your niple before gently biting on it in protest , earning a small yelp from you that was quickly quieted down when you felt his kisses getting lower. Teeth grazing against the soft skin of your stomach until he reached the waistband of your shorts . 

He looked up at you waiting for your consent before going any further. 

You gave him a small hazy nod and it was all he needed to peel out your shorts of your legs , leaving you only in your underwear , spread out for him like his Goddess,  his sacrificial lamb.  

He sat up to admire you like this , so beautiful and all his , his wife ( wife he almost lost but anyway) 

You must have made a sound because it snapped him out of his trance . His body lowering onto the bed to wrap your legs around his neck. 

His soft lips peppered small kisses along your inner thighs,  mouth expertly sucking blossoming hickeys on your skin making you writhe beneath him 

“Zayne” the words left your lips like a plea and a demand all at once. 

“Yes darling?” 

His eyes looked up at you twinkling with mischief and need 

He knew what he was doing this gorgeous bastard. 

“Touch me” you whimpered out , the heat in your belly growing unbearably hotter. 

“But I am touching you darling aren't I?” As if to emphasize his words,  his hands ran up and down your legs the touch sending shiver down your spine. 

“Not here” you shook your head , lips jutting out in a soft pout 

“Where then?” He whispered before leaving a small kiss on your lower belly “here?” 

“No” 

“Here?” another kiss on the right side of your hip 

“No” you shook your head again , patience and sanity growing thinner at his teasing 

“Here?” he kissed the inside of your thighs,  so close to where you needed him the most 

“Closer” you whimpered out , hips shifting to bring his mouth to its destination faster but he wasn't having in . His strong arms pinning them firmly on the bed. 

“You're so impatient darling” he tsked before leaving a fleeting kiss to the damp center of your underwear 

“here?” he whispered against your feverish skin while your head fell bavk.in bliss. You were so fucking sensitive that even the slightest touch sent your mind reeling 

“Answer me , my love” he demanded before gently nipping at your clothed clit making you cry out 

“Yes here” you moaned out , hips bucking against his touch. 

This sight pulled a small smirk at the corner of his mouth before he greedily kissed your heated cunt. Small pecks at first then,  sloppy , greedy French kisses that soaked your already damp underwear. 

The sensation was way too much and not enough we the same time . His kisses were driving you insane but you needed so much more. 

“Zayne please” you begged , hand fisting at his hair to bring him closer, push him away , you couldn't decide 

“What is it , darling?” He spat into your clicking heat , thumb circling your already damp opening   

“Need you” you raised your head to lock eyes with his . 

And Zayne swears ,at this moment, you took his breath away. 

With your hair dishelved,  your eyes wild with lust and your kiss-bitten lips, you looked nothing short but angelic. 

An angel sent by heavens just for him.

 An angel he will cherish forever 

Finally taking some mercy on you , he took off your flimsy panties , throwing them to God knows where across the room. Large palms spreading your legs apart while his eyes feasted on you 

“Beautiful” he whispered before diving in . 

His lips leaving a gentle kiss before literally devouring,  feasting on you like he hasn't eaten for day. 

His lips and tongue greedily licked and slurped everything down with fervor , leaving you a panting and sobbing mess. The only things leaving your parted lips were sinful moans of his name and some occasionally curses. 

It felt so good , heavenly even , his mouth worshipping you like some divine being made you feel lightheaded. 

When he inserted two fingers inside , your brain short circuited , stars exploded behind your eyes and before you knew it you were coming hard and fast. Your orgasm crashing over you like a sea storm that have you screaming his name so loudly you were sure Maddie would earn nose complaints from her neighbors.

Even so , Zayne didn't stop,  tongue still swirling around your clit with fervor while his fingers probed at your walls. 

It was only when you pushed his head off in over sensitivity he finally relented , sticky strands that connected his lips to your pussy breaking as he parted from you to sit up. 

His usual stoic face wore a giddy smile , a pretty pink blush settled on his high cheekbones. 

Why does he have to look so pretty? It's literally unfair. 

“You're ok there , darling?” he asked after climbing up to hover above you once again He tucked a stray strand of hair behind your ear , eyes roving over your face with a mixture of affection and small concern. 

After Finally regaining your bearings (and stopped getting distracted by his pretty face) you spoke up 

“I am alright..” you replied,  wrapping your legs around his waist to bring him closed to you , your bold action making his eyes widen for a fraction of second 

“..but I think you haven't showed me how much you love me yet” you leaned in to whisper against his lips , index finger tracing a sensual  path against his bare chest. 

Of course his insatiable wife wouldn't be satisfied. 

“I guess I haven't yes” he hummed thoughtfully , grabbing your hand that was tracing against his chest to leave a small kiss on your ring finger. 

“Any suggestion to fix that wife?” 

If you knew Zayne calling you wife after you left would have that effect on you you'd have done it sooner. 

Because the way your insides were viscerally screaming for him wasn't normal at all. 

Clearing your throat to get back a semblance of focus, and sanity , you spoke up again. 

“I have a few , mind me if I show you..”  you leaned in closer until your noses were now touching “husband” 

Zayne must be losing his mind , maybe standing for too long under rain altered his brain chemistry because there's no way just you calling him husband in this sultry tone had him cumming in his pants or maybe it was your taste , your sounds , or just how badly he was infatuated with you. 

His head fell in the crook of your neck as ropes of cum soiled his underwear and pants. 

Your hand found his hair , petting it as he hid his face in the crook of your neck in embarrassment 

“What do you think , husband?” you murmured before kissing his temple , earning a small whine from him 

“Show me” he raised his head from your neck to look at you , hazel eyes nearly black from lust “show me what you had in mind” 

He didn't need to tell you twice because as soon the words left his lips you were straddling him , legs resting either side of his muscular thighs as his clothed cock was nestled against your slick heat. 

Zayne's hands automatically found refuge on your hips gripping them for dear life as his breathing got heavier and heavier 

You were going to be the death of him. 

You impatiently tugged his pants and boxers down , too impatient to take your time , you needed him right fucking now. 

“Impatient are we ?” He let out in a breathy chuckle 

“You're any better , Dr” you teased him , hand wrapping around his cock to pump it slowly. 

His head fell back in ecstasy,  an airy fuck leaving his parted lips. His chest heaved up and down as his pants and groans filled the room replacing your earlier sinful moans. 

Zayne ran a hand through his already disheveled hair , body growing hot and bothered under your touch.  And the way you were looking down at him didn't help his state at all 

“D-darling” he breathed out in a moan , body growing taut with Desire and need 

“Mmh” you hummed distantly ,watching fascinated how your hand slid up and down his veiny cock. 

“Please” he begged , voice growing higher in pitch , his pleading hazel eyes looking down at you in a way that made you cave in so fast . 

“How could I ever deny you when you beg so sweetly?” 

It was simple you couldn't. 

Straddling him , you lined his cock with your entrance,  finally giving what you both wanted . 

You both  moaned in unison when you sank down all the way onto him , the stretch making your eyes roll back into your skull. 

He felt as good and full as you remembered . 

You stayed unvoming for a moment,  letting yourself adjust to his size. But Zaybe was a patient man until it comes to you. 

His impatient hips started moving in small jerky movements to fuck himself deeper into you. Each thrust pulling out a breathy whimpers from your lips 

“Fuck Zayne” you moaned head thrown back as you bounced against his lap meeting his thrust halfway in a lewd symphony of skin slapping sounds. 

Zayne was in heaven. The sight of you on top of him combined with each slow drawl of your lips had him gasping for air , mind growing mushy each time you ground yourself against him in small gyrations tthathas him gritting his teeth .

He had to recite every single artery he knew to not come inside you already . 

That's just how good you felt around him.  

“Darling” he whimpered the sound sending a jolt through you . 

Fuck you couldn't take this torture anymore , he couldn't. 

A small yelp left your lips when you felt your back hit the mattress.  Zayne's hips just pounding into you. 

“I love you” he whispered against your lips with every deep thrust. 

“I love you my wife” he continued to pant into your mouth while his hips  just rammed into you. 

“I love you too” you struggled to breath,  the way he was fucking you so deep inside the mattress made it unable to moan or even scream,  now just struggling to breath. 

His forehead rested against yours,  his hands intertwining with yours as he continued his mean cadence. 

“My wife” he breathed out , eyes closing as you both reached your peaks 

You didn't even realize at first that you were coming , just your vision blacking out for several seconds by the intensity of your orgasm , Zayne's body collapsing onto yours as he pumped you full of ropes  after ropes of his seed.

Zayne stayed there for several seconds,  head buried in the crook of your neck , dick still buried deep inside of you. 

“Darling” he looked up at you only to find your eyes closed,  your body unconscious 

“Darling , my love wake up” he shook you but no response came 

Shit did you pass out?

He quickly got off you , hand frantically checking your pulse. 

Fortunately you were still breathing,  just passed out from exhaustion

Maybe he went a bit too rough?  (Just a bit??) 

He caressed your cheek tenderly before leaving a small kiss on it. 

The first thing that hit you  when you woke was this familiar scent piney and so so addictive that reminded you of….

You abruptly sat up only to be pulled back in bed by a sleepy Zayne 

“Stay there with me” he grumbled out in a sleepy voivce that made your heart melt . 

So it wasn't a dream,  Zaybe really came all this way under the rain for you. 

His arms on your waist pulled you closer until your back was flush against his chest , his hot breath tickling your bare shoulder. 

You chewed nervously on your bottom lip , eyes roaming around the room , the sound was about to rise sun.  You could see the pale hue of orange , pink ,violet and blue painting the sky outside. 

A new dawn , a new beginning you hoped 

“I can hear the gears turning in your head” Zayne spoke after a while making your eyes snap back to his face .

“What's on your mind ,wife?” He asked , resting his head against your chest to look up at you. 

“I am sorry” you muttered after a while making his eyes widen in surprise 

What on earth were you apologizing for?

Seing his puzzled look you clarified yourself 

“For leaving you” you added ,looking away from him. 

“Darling” he sat up,  taking your hand to caress your knuckles 

“You don’t need to apologize_” 

“But I put you in pain_” 

“So did I” he cut you off making you seal your mouth shut 

“Darling..” he let out a small sigh before continuing, his fingers still tracing small reassuring patterns on your hand “marriage is about communication,  understanding and forgiveness, I haven't beenuch understanding of your feelings lately . I should be the one apologizing not you” 

You listened intently to his words not daring to say anything.  

“i should have take your feelings in more consideration please forgive me” he finished his eyes looking at you so earnestly it made your heart ache 

“I already forgave you but” you sat up as well to wrap your arms around his neck “I don't want us to fight like this anymore” 

“Me neither’ he shook his head,  wrapping his arms around your waist 

“All good?” You tilted your head at him 

“All good” he nodded before pecking your lips gently “Just please don't ever scare me like that , my hear can't take it” he pleaded against your lips making you smile 

“Can't promise anything Dr” you grinned 

“Now it's doctor huh?” He sighed indignantly making you giggle at his pouty expression 

Akso's chief surgeon pouting ? What a cute sight to behold . 

“Fine,  husband” you rolled your eyes playfully at him before pinching his cheek 

“Much better” he smiled before capturing your lips in a passionate kiss. 

“I love you Mrs Li” he mumbled out through the kiss 

“I love you too Mr Li” you responded before pushing his back against the mattress 

Under the dawn's sunlight Mr and Mrs began a new chapter one they hope won't involve a certain Adele song and Goodbye letters 

...*...*...*...*...*...*...*...

Taglist : @jinwoosbabyboo @yourlocalcatscammer @m00nchildwrites @sunsethw4 @syluslittlekitten @poisonf0rest

[charliemwrites]

Commission: Bastard's Bishop

Hello, hello!! It's been a minute, hasn't it? Here's a commission I did a couple weeks ago for my dear fishstick! I had a blast writing this and learning more about packers!

Please note that I've included some general content tags, specific warnings for intimacy, and lastly, some notes for terminology used for the reader character, Bishop, and his genitalia. All my love <3

Content: FTM reader, obsessive/possessive behavior, mild harassment, dub-con Dub-Con intimacy: thigh-riding, intercrural, unprotected PIV, semi-public, overstim, praise kink, mild dacryphilia, mild size kink Trans Man Reader terminology: cock/clit semi-interchangeably, cunt, hole, he/him pronouns and endearments, reader has a packer

divider by user: gildui

You narrow your eyes as your back twinges for the third time today, grip tightening on your mop handle.

It’s been like this all week, a tight pinch somewhere between your spine and your right hip. A deep ache that no amount of stretching or heat packs has soothed thanks to the demands of your job. Repeatedly stooping to pick up trash, move furniture, and clean floors tends to undo most of the rest and recovery you achieve in your off hours.

Still, after being out all of last week, your PTO is running a bit thin, and you can’t afford to take more. KorTac’s employment package is good – but not that good.

You pause long enough to take a deep breath, willing the muscles to relax.

The clock on the wall reads late afternoon – not much longer now. Just this last hallway (all admin offices and conference rooms) and you’ll be done. Most of the operators have left already at least. In and out of base early, leaving you to clean up after them, when you’re not at risk of hearing any confidential information.

You’re glad for the solitude today, not quite up for polite half-smiles you sometimes get when you accidentally make eye contact. You’d much rather just put your head down and do your job – the sooner you can crack open that bottle of paracetamol in your locker.

All around, it hasn’t even been a bad day, apart from your sore back. You got in on time, your boss is out with appendicitis, and the bane of your existence hasn’t made an appearance at all this week. Lisa in accounting mentioned he’s away on a mission, so hopefully you won’t have to deal with him for—

“Daydreaming on the job, Schatz?”

You jump at the gruff voice next to your ear, headphones slipping down to your collarbones. A startled curse mangled in your throat as you brain catches up, recognizing the gravel-on-stone accent rumbling too close for comfort.

Already scowling, you turn on your heel, face-to-mask with green netting and broad shoulders.

As always, Krueger’s obscured features bring you up a bit short, mouth popping open for a sharp remark your brain lags to provide. Bastard.

“I’m not daydreaming,” you end up huffing. Try to sound clipped, despite the thumping of your heart, but it comes out sullen. Close enough.

“It is okay, I will not tell anyone,” he leers, “as long as you were daydreaming about me.”

The worst part is that you kind of were. Maybe not the way he means – this time, anyway – but close enough to the truth that you feel your face growing warm despite yourself.

“You’re delusional,” you scoff, turning away. You scrub harder than necessary at the linoleum, trying to work out the frustrating mix of irritation and intrigue that Krueger inspires in you.

As always, he fails to take the hint.

“What, you did not miss me while I was gone?” he mocks.

From the corner of your eye, you can see him shifting closer. Too close. Far past politeness and skirting rude, damn near crowding.

It makes you all too aware of the slight angle you’re bent at, pushing your ass out. Thankfully, the baggy fit of your khakis obscures any suggestive shape, providing modesty you shouldn’t need while doing janitorial work.

“You were gone?” you reply, flat. As if you didn’t feel a conflicted pang in your chest when you realized you’d have a few peaceful, uninterrupted days.

He simpers, “I missed you last week. Where did you go, hm?”

His audacity almost coaxes a disbelieving laugh from your tongue. Intimidating and oddly charismatic as he can be, you’re not about to abide him being so blatantly nosy. You’ve already learned this lesson with Krueger – give an inch and he’ll take miles and miles before you even realize what you’ve done.

That’s how you ended up with him calling you “Schatz” so casually.

“None of your business,” you reply.

“You were sick, no?” he continues as if you haven’t spoken. His voice drops to a near purr, “You should have called, I would take such good care of you, Liebling.”

You stiffen, eyes tellingly wide. How the hell does he know that? And why?

It’s the one question that nips at your mind every time he interacts with you – the why of it all. You don’t get it. He’s one of KorTac’s best soldiers, dangerous and competent and funny for all he’s an arrogant prick. You’ve seen plenty of other KorTac employees flirting and checking him out. He’s not hurting for romantic or sexual prospects.

So why the fuck does he ever spend time on you? Teasing you, baiting you? You, the grumpiest of the janitors with chipped nail polish and the baggy clothes and the giant headphones that practically scream “leave me the fuck alone.” Why does he always seek you out?

You don’t trust the answer. It prods at uncomfortable, hurtful suspicions that you refuse to entertain, so you just try not to think about it at all.

Instead, you feel genuine irritation flare in your chest and clutch onto it, pushing away any fondness-born vulnerability aside. You dunk the mophead hard into the bucket, a soapy droplet landing on his scuffed black boots.

“I don’t need taking care of,” you snip back. “Especially not from you.”

It’s the sharpest you’ve ever been with him.

There’s a single, stony beat where you realize this is not the time or man to let your temper get the better of you.

You can feel his gaze boring into you through the netting. You’ve seen him without it before, know that his eyes are dark as obsidian shards and just as sharp. Can already imagine them narrowed, his jaw tense. You peer at him from the corner of your eye, feel your breath catch when his hand starts to reach for you…

“Hey, Bishop?”

You jolt once again. Know your eyes are way too big when you whip around, looking past Krueger to the doorway. One of your coworkers is there, poking their head around the frame and blissfully oblivious to the… well, to whatever this situation is.

“Would you mind helping me move a shelf? Someone dropped their coffee behind it.”

You damn near fling the mop aside, adrenaline buzzing through your veins as you realize just how alone you’ve been with Sebastian Krueger of all people.

“No problem,” you reply, eye twitching when your voice cracks a bit.

You don’t dare glance over your shoulder as you flee like a hunted rabbit. You already know Krueger will be staring after you.

You sigh as you swallow the last of your lukewarm water, easing the paracetamol tabs down your esophagus. Your locker is open just to your right, sparse and bland, but functional. Your casual clothes are waiting, half-folded on the little shelf inside. Mostly clean, still baggy, but a lot more comfortable than your khakis and polo.

Finally, you think, kicking your work shoes off to begin changing.

A flicker of movement is your only warning.

A hand darts past your head, slamming your locker shut with a clang that echoes in the empty lavatory. You yelp and spin around, only to be pushed back against cold, unforgiving metal. Krueger looms over you, nothing but a dark shadow beyond that green netting. Big and intimidating and here.

“What—”

He shushes you, quiet and drawling. Like he’s got all the time in the world. A shiver races down your spine and pools low in your gut.

“You seem to be using your words poorly today, Schatz,” he says, barely more than a rumble in his chest. “Perhaps you should stop using them, hm? Before I find a nicer use for your mouth.”

And you hate that your voice dries up, throat parched despite the half liter you chugged just a moment ago. He plants his other hand beside your head, caging you in. You’re dismayed to realize escape didn’t even occur to you before the option was revoked.

“We are friends, Bishop, no?”

You don’t dare answer. He doesn’t wait for one.

“As your friend, I worry that you work too much. This is why you were sick, you see? It is no good to work so hard all the time. No breaks, no rest.”

He speaks so casually, treating this like a normal conversation with an actual friend. But there’s no missing the edge in his voice, something predatory lurking between consonants and vowels. You heart claws at your ribcage, prey trying to escape a trap it can’t see.

“What is that English saying? ‘All work, no play,’ something like that?” He shrugs, and in doing so, sways closer.

He feels like a furnace without even touching you, making you flushed, sweaty. The scent of gunpowder peppers the heated sliver of air between your bodies, ready to ignite. You try to raise your hands, urge some distance. Overwhelmed by his proximity.

In one swift, yet almost lazy movement, he captures both of your wrists in one big, gloved hand. Pins them firmly over your head. You gasp and try to tug free, to no avail. While not painful, his grip is vicelike, unwavering. Tucking you neatly out of his way.

“Without proper rest, we become mean to our friends.” You shudder as his free hand begins tracing leisurely down your neck, over your bobbing throat. Even with the tactical glove on, his touch is deceptively light, almost ticklish. “You were so mean today, mein Prinz, when I was only trying to be a good friend.”

His fingers trail lower, down to the center of your chest, where he can surely feel your heart pounding. Your breath catches as his attention moves sideways and you realize his goal.

“Kreuger—”

He clicks his tongue as you start to squirm, as much a warning to you as part of his speech.

“Lucky for you, I am a very good friend.”

An embarrassed noise squeaks out of you as his index finger loops around your nipple, already tight and hard against the stiff fabric of your shirt. Little sparks of electricity crackle through your body, lighting up your nerves.

“I will take care of you as I should have when you were ill.”

This is his idea of sick care?! you think frantically, as mean fingers pinch your nipple through your shirt.

Another noise gets caught on the back of your tongue, a high-pitched whimper that you barely manage to swallow down.

“K-Krueger—” you cut yourself off with a whine as his tugs and then releases, swiping his thumb back and forth over the sensitive peak. The friction makes you tender in seconds, knees nearly buckling. “Th-this isn’t funny…”

He switches to the other nipple, giving it the same treatment until you’re throbbing in your boxers. You feel dizzy and needy, horrifically aroused and not even sure if you want to be. Your nipples are going to be sore if he doesn’t stop; they already ache just the way you like but somehow, maddeningly, he never crosses the line into rough.

“I am not laughing,” he replies, dead serious.

You want to say a million different platitudes – all those cheesy lines you usually snort at in romances. Knock it off, this isn’t a joke, you don’t scare me, you can drop the act.

Because you know he won’t, it isn’t, you are, and he’s not.

“Krue – ah!”

“What is my name, Liebling?” he nearly growls. You shudder, ducking your head. But he just follows, the hood brushing your flushed cheek. You’ve never felt more like prey. “You do not call your friends by their last names.”

“S-Sebastian…”

He practically purrs, drawing a heart around your areola with the tip of his thumb. “Good boy.”

You clench around nothing, hole aching, devastatingly empty. Arch into his touch before you realize you’re doing it, needing something, anything.

“You deserve a treat, hm?” he chuckles.

The hand on your chest disappears beneath his hood. Through the weave, you see a flash of white teeth. The rip of Velcro is loud in the otherwise empty locker room. You’re so, so lucky that you waited until the rest of your coworkers went home before changing – you don’t think Krueger would have a problem doing this in front of them…

That train of thought (that definitely doesn’t make your cock pulse) is cut off when Krueger’s hand slithers beneath your shirt. His bare hand.

You moan as his hot, rough palm smooths up your heaving ribs, right back to your sensitized nipples. He twists and pinches and plucks at them, ruthless and relentless. You didn’t think it could get any more intense, but it’s like he’s unravelling your self-control with those clever, cruel fingers. Every bitten off noise and aborted twitch of pleasure just spurs him on, a soldier on a mission.

A particularly sharp squeeze makes your hips jerk, banging back against the metal. You’ve tipped your hand again.

He bullies his thigh between yours and presses it tight against your slick, throbbing core. Your packer presses just right against your clit, sending pleasure rocketing up your spine. There’s no stopping you from rocking down against the thick muscle, chasing after more.

“There we go,” he coos, voice so deep now that it rattles in your cloudy head. “You just needed to be taken care of it, is that it?”

You bite your lip, but it doesn’t stop you from whining, horrified that you’re not more pissed off by his condescending tone. Worse, you’re getting off on it, humping his leg like a horny teenager.

“My sweet little Prinz,” he continues, “mein Shatz. Working so hard all the time.”

You whimper, trembling with the pleasure burning in your veins. Already close, that coil grows tight in your abdomen, pitching your voice up higher and higher, louder and louder. Don’t think you could pull yourself away now even if he let you, too focused on riding his thigh. Just that little bit harder, that little bit faster…

“Are you going to cum for me, Liebling?” he croons. “Do it, show me what a sweet boy you are.”

You fall over the edge with a shout, crumpling against his chest. Shuddering and twitching, panting into his shoulder. It feels like he’s everywhere, all you can see and smell and feel.

“S-stop,” you yelp when he tweaks your oversensitive nipple again. “Too much, Sebastian…”

He tuts sympathetically, giving your side a surprisingly comforting squeeze, before withdrawing his hand from beneath your shirt.

“There, are we feeling like a better friend now?” he hums, lowering your arms.

You take a deep breath, trying to assemble anything like coherent words from the scramble of your brain.

Before you can, the world spins. You blink, staring uncomprehendingly at the flaky grey paint of the locker you were just leaning against.

“Wha…?”

“Time to be a good friend in return, little one.”

You don’t even have a chance to wonder what he means. You can feel him pressing against your lower back, hot and thick and dripping. A pathetic noise eeks out from your throat as you brace your hands against the lockers.

“What are you going to…?”

You gasp again as he jerks your hips back sharply, a big hand between your shoulder blades to keep your chest pressed to the lockers. The cool sensation is heavenly on your sore nipples, but it doesn’t stop the nervous alarms ringing in your mind at the suggestive angle.

He hums, thumb caressing the dimples at the bottom of your spine.

“I have been stressed too, you know. My best friend was mean to me today.”

Your nails scrape against the metal as he tugs your pants and underwear halfway down your slick thighs. He whistles lowly, a satisfied noise in the back of his throat. You glance down and groan in mortification – the fabric of your boxers is absolutely drenched, clinging obscenely to your skin and the ridges of your packer.

“All this for me… such a good little Hase.”

You can tell he’s growing impatient now, though, because he doesn’t waste time teasing. You moan softly as his cock glides between the slick, sticky folds of your cunt. The bulbous tip skates along your own, still twitching with aftershocks and not at all prepared to be touched again so soon.

You whimper and try to jolt away but Krueger’s hands clamp down on your hips and rock you into the cradle of his own. He groans low and rough as he glides through your wetness, arching your spine to give himself a better angle to frot.

“So soft,” he mumbles, “such a good boy for me, I knew you would feel so good. Just had to show you how to behave. Shatz, my Shatz.”

You keen softly, find yourself squeezing your thighs together, giving him a tighter channel to fuck into. He’s so hot against you; you think you can feel drips of precum glossing your cock, the head of his dick catching on your hole when he pulls back too far. It’s tantalizing and thrilling, you don’t know if you want it or not anymore, and justify that he’s holding you too tight to escape anyway.

It shouldn’t be this easy, you think desperately as the flames of a new orgasm ignite from embers of the first. You’re too sensitive, too overstimulated, too—

“You’re going to cum for me again anyway,” he growls, and you realize you’ve been babbling all of that out loud.

Fuck.

It’s not a choice – it never was. He’s going to make you cum again and you’re drooling for it. You loosen your hips and spine, rock freely back into the urging of his hands. His hips pick up speed, settle into a rhythm better than any toy or vibrator you’ve ever played with (always thinking guiltily of him).

The next orgasm practically sneaks up on you. Building up until it’s spilling over all at once, ricocheting through you like a stray bullet. You damn near lock up with the shock and pleasure of it, but Krueger doesn’t let you, rubbing his cock against you until your knees buckle.

“No more games, Liebling,” he snarls.

He practically rips your pants and underwear the rest off the way off, leaving them in a puddle on the ground. A thick arm slithers around your waist, hauls you over to the locker room bench. Krueger drops onto it and drags you into his lap.

You catch yourself on his broad shoulders, staring wide-eyed at his cock jutting proudly between you two. It curves towards his stomach an angry red. Gleaming under the fluorescent lights with your slick, a pearl of it pooled right under the head, oozing down a pulsing vein.

Your mouth waters, but he doesn’t make good on his promise to use your mouth.

Instead, he scoops you up with a hand beneath your ass, the other wrapping around the wide base. Your fingers clench in the fabric of his shirt as you resist, whimpering nervously.

“It’s not going to fit, Sebastian!” you complain.

“It will, it will,” he soothes, “you are a big boy, you can take it…”

It’s not a choice, you think again, as he notches the fat head at your entrance.

You’re in no condition to hold yourself up in defiance. Not at your best, and not now when you’re already shaky and kitten weak on two orgasms, with even a fraction of Krueger’s considerable strength lowering you.

It stings.

You whimper and whine, bowing towards him, trying to relax. He coos and soothes with absent, sugary whispers until the head pops in. With his newly freed hand, he tugs the hood up to his nose and guides you into a wet, filthy kiss. You’re desperate for the distraction, licking the taste of iron and cigarette from his sharp canines.

With you distracted, you don’t notice his hand sneaking down again until his thumb is massaging your clit. You nearly jump out of your skin, only kept in place by his quick reflexes and unyielding strength.

“Hush, little one,” he murmurs against your jaw, “I am helping. Let me play with your pretty cock.”

You moan into his mouth as he works circles into that swollen bundle of nerves. It eases the discomfort of his cock sliding into you until you drop that last, mind-blowing inch and he’s bottomed out.

“Fuck, Schatz,” he groans, head tilting back, mouth parted.

You squeeze around him, so full it feels like he’s in your throat. He’s still rubbing your clit, making your walls pulse around him with every delicious swipe of his thumb.

“Come now, time to bounce, Hase.”

Despite his words, he’s the one bouncing you up and down, your legs barely able to support your weight. You could swear you feel every ridge and vein of the cock stretching you and it’s too much for your fucked out brain. All you can do is hold onto him, tears pricking your eyes. You’re not even upset when you feel his tongue licking them from your cheeks, can only shove your tongue in his mouth to get a taste.

He twitches up to meet your hips on the next thrust and you go cross-eyed at the angle – too good too goodtoogood.

You’re begging and whining, completely gone on ecstasy, grinding down on his lap every time you drop down. It’s loud and wet, something out of your dirtiest dreams. He’s fucking against your g-spot, bullying it, abusing it, and you can’t get enough, rolling your hips with each movement.

“I-I’m gonna, I’m gonna—”

“Milk my cock, scream for me, that’s it.”

And you do, shuddering and squeezing so tight around him that he makes a rough, punched out noise. He doesn’t stop as wave after wave washes over you, until you finally wail his name and go limp. Buried deep inside you, he cums without remorse in long, hot spurts against your walls.

In the aftermath, you’re panting and sweaty. Utterly ruined. Brain not quite online due to three back-to-back orgasms from a man who could probably kill you with two fingers. He’s mumbling in your ear, stroking your back. It’s almost pleasant. Maybe he isn’t so bad…

“Now, then. We will go to dinner like a proper couple.”

What happened to being friends?!

[focusonkayjay]

Wildly Wealthy Koreans (5); inspired by Crazy Rich Asians

Pairing: Jungkook x (f.) Reader

Genre/Tags: photographer/ filmmaker! jungkook, rich girl/ fashion designer! reader, established relationship, angst, fluff, smut

Series summary: When you invite your boyfriend, Jungkook, to accompany you to your brother's wedding in your hometown, Daegu, he’s overjoyed, eager to meet your family and experience a side of your life you’ve never shared with him. However, once he uncovers the truth about who you really are, he’s unable to grasp the full extent of your reality. The situation becomes even more complicated when a certain someone makes him feel profoundly unwelcome, leaving him to question not only your world, but also his place in it.

Disclaimer: This series is heavily inspired by the movie Crazy Rich Asians, with the storyline closely following the original film's plot. However, I wanted to reimagine it as a fanfiction, where Jungkook and OC take center stage as the main protagonists. While I’ve kept the core elements and themes from the movie, I’ve added my own touches here and there, such as altering certain character dynamics and incorporating a few original settings. Some scenes are directly inspired by the movie, and I’ve worked to recreate them in a way that it hopefully resonates with the fans of the movie. Hope you enjoy!!

Word Count: 8k+

Chapter Warnings: vandalization, wooyoung, your mom.

A/N: i’m so sorry for the super late update omg. since it’s the holiday season, my friends dragged me on an impromptu trip to the mountains, and I didn’t have proper wifi for like three days, so I couldn’t really proof read and post updates. anyways, i was thinking it might be a good idea to set fixed days of the week for updates, so I don’t leave you all hanging for too long. how about we make it every tuesday for this one? and if I’m feeling extra motivated, you might even get impromptu updates in between !! let me know what you think <3 also what do you guys think about this part? i really tried to mirror eleanor's character here hehehehe

part 5

Jungkook gulps, the uneasiness in his chest growing heavier with each passing second. His thoughts spiral... how could he not know something so significant about you? The weight of Wooyoung’s words lingers like a dark cloud, and Jungkook feels a pang of frustration at his own cluelessness.

Meanwhile, Wooyoung sits there, exuding smug satisfaction, his tone dripping with judgment and condescension. Before Jungkook can even think of a response, a familiar voice cuts through the tension.

"Hey, Jungkook! There you are. I’ve been looking for you everywhere."

It’s Namjoon, one of your and Taehyung’s cousins. Jungkook immediately recognizes him from the tea ceremony and their brief interactions earlier on the cruise.

Without hesitation, Namjoon strides over, his easy grin never faltering as he helps Jungkook up from the bar, casually slinging an arm over his shoulder in a protective, almost brotherly gesture.

Jungkook blinks, startled but compliant, his gaze lingering on Wooyoung for a moment longer before he lets Namjoon steer him away.

As they weave through the pulsating crowd on the dance floor, Namjoon leans in slightly, his voice pitched low enough to be heard over the booming bass of the DJ’s set. "Looks like you needed some saving." he murmurs, a soft knowing smile tugging at his lips.

Jungkook casts one last glance at the chaotic swirl of neon lights and bodies moving in sync with the music. The atmosphere feels oppressive, the conversation with Wooyoung still swirling in his head, but Namjoon’s steady presence offers a much-needed sense of calm.

"You okay?" Namjoon asks once they’re out of earshot, his concern evident as he peers at Jungkook.

Jungkook exhales deeply, his hand running through his hair. "Who... was that?" he asks, his voice strained, laced with lingering frustration and confusion. Namjoon chuckles softly, his grip on Jungkook’s shoulder steady as they put more distance between themselves and the chaotic energy of the party.

"That?" he repeats, shaking his head slightly. "That was Wooyoung. A bit of a wildcard, but mostly harmless... as long as you don’t let him get into your head."

Jungkook frowns, his mind still caught in the web of the earlier conversation. "He said some... things." he murmurs, his voice laced with tension. "About Y/n, about their past... and how her mom wanted them to—" He stops abruptly, the words sticking in his throat, as if saying them aloud might solidify them into something undeniable.

Namjoon sighs, his expression softening as he glances at Jungkook. "Yeah, Wooyoung does have a knack for stirring the pot." he admits. "And... well, he’s not entirely wrong about some of it."

Jungkook’s head snaps towards Namjoon, his brows furrowed in confusion and frustration. "But you’ve got to understand something, Jungkook." Namjoon begins, his tone measured.

"Y/n’s life before you? It’s complicated. Her mom? Even more so. She’s... traditional. She wanted Y/n to settle down here, to live the life she envisioned for her. Going to New York? Pursuing fashion? That wasn’t part of the plan. Her mom thought..." He trails off as they reach a quieter corner, settling near a small table where the thumping bass of the music fades to a faint hum.

"She thought Y/n would drift away... from her culture, her roots, everything she was raised with." Namjoon continues, his voice lower now. "So, she brought Wooyoung into the picture."

Jungkook leans forward slightly, absorbing every word, trying to piece together this part of your life he hadn’t known.

"They didn’t date." Namjoon clarifies quickly, sensing Jungkook’s unease. "Hell, Y/n couldn’t even stand the guy. He’s off-putting, doesn’t know how to respect boundaries, and, honestly, just a jerk. I don’t even know why Seokjin invited him tonight. Even Taehyung can’t stand him." He pauses, shaking his head in exasperation before continuing.

"Anyway, Y/n’s mom had this whole idea that Wooyoung was the perfect match... stable, from a good family, all that nonsense. She thought marrying him would keep Y/n grounded, keep her here. But Y/n? She wasn’t having any of it." he pauses, looking at Jungkook.

"She rebelled, stood her ground, and thank god for Taehyung and her dad. They backed her up, and eventually, her mom had no choice but to let her go and do what she wanted."

Namjoon leans back, his gaze steady as he studies Jungkook. "Look, Y/n’s family dynamic is... complex. But she’s here now, and she chose her path. And she chose you." His words linger, grounding Jungkook in the present as the weight of the past begins to feel just a little less overwhelming.

Jungkook stays silent, sitting stiffly as the reality of everything sinks in. His hooded eyes stay fixed on the table, his mind churning with thoughts he’s struggling to process. Namjoon notices, his concern deepening at the tension in Jungkook’s shoulders and his distant expression.

"Hey..." Namjoon says gently a few second later, leaning forward. "Why don’t we head back to your room? I’ll call a few friends, and we can just hang out, play some cards, or something chill." He’s clearly trying to distract Jungkook, offering him an escape from the storm brewing inside.

Jungkook finally looks up, his lips curving into a tight, appreciative smile. The gesture speaks volumes, and Namjoon doesn’t push further, understanding the gratitude in his silence. A distraction sounds good, better than sitting here, drowning in the spiral of his own thoughts.

"Yeah, sure." Jungkook agrees, his voice subdued. He rises from his seat, and Namjoon drapes a casual arm over his shoulders again as they make their way out.

"You’re a good guy, you know that?" Namjoon says, his tone light but sincere. "I’ve heard so much about you from Y/n and Tae. Don’t let stuff like this get to you. It’s not worth it."

Jungkook nods, his expression unreadable. He’s heard words like that more than once lately, but they leave him unsure... comforted, yes, but also questioning what kind of person he truly is. Still, he doesn’t dwell on it, choosing instead to follow Namjoon’s lead.

As Namjoon pulls out his phone to text a few friends, Jungkook exhales slowly. The familiar comfort of his cabin feels like a welcome retreat. But the moment he unlocks the door and steps inside, the comfort vanishes.

"What the fuck?" Namjoon blurts out beside him, his voice sharp with shock. Jungkook freezes, his eyes widening as he takes in the chaos. His room is unrecognizable... furniture overturned, belongings scattered everywhere. But it’s the wall that grabs his attention, a chill running down his spine.

GO BACK TO NEW YORK, YOU BROKE MOTHERFUCKER.

The words are scrawled in bold red spray paint, glaringly hostile against the pale wall. Jungkook’s lips part in disbelief as he struggles to process what he’s seeing.

His gaze darts around the wreckage, landing on his camera lying on the floor. The sight makes his stomach drop... the lens is shattered, pieces of glass glinting in the light. His fists clench at his sides, and his jaw tightens as anger bubbles beneath the surface, threatening to spill over.

Namjoon steps forward cautiously, his brows furrowed as he surveys the destruction. "Who the hell would do this?" he mutters, his tone a mix of anger and disbelief.

Jungkook doesn’t respond immediately, his chest heaving as he stares at the damage. Whoever did this wasn’t just trying to vandalize... they were sending a message. A clear, personal message meant to hurt, to unsettle.

Namjoon places a firm hand on Jungkook’s shoulder. “Jungkook...” he says, his tone steady but urgent. “We need to report this. Now.”

Jungkook shakes his head, his jaw tightening. “No, it’s okay.” he breathes out. “I don’t want to make a scene.” He doesn’t elaborate, but deep down, a suspicion simmers. He has a hunch who’s behind this.

Namjoon’s lips press into a thin line, clearly unconvinced. His gaze flickers over Jungkook’s tense expression before he nods reluctantly. “Alright...” he concedes, though the hesitation in his voice is evident. “But at least... let’s get someone to clean this up.”

As they step out of the cabin in search of help, Jungkook’s eyes catch a flicker of movement down the hallway. A group of men stand at the far end, partially hidden behind the corner of a wall. They’re watching him.

The moment Jungkook’s gaze locks on them, they smirk, their expressions dripping with smugness, almost as if they’re proud of what they’ve done.

Jungkook’s stomach churns as the group casually turns and saunters away, their laughter echoing faintly. It’s obvious... they’re Wooyoung’s friends. The realization cements his earlier suspicion, and anger flares in his chest.

Childish. Immature. Petty. That’s all he can think. What kind of people stoop so low, targeting someone just because of who they’re dating? He feels the bitterness rise in his throat but forces himself to swallow it. Dwelling on it would give them more power than they deserve.

Namjoon notices the shift in Jungkook’s demeanor and follows his line of sight. “Them?” he asks, his voice low. Jungkook exhales sharply through his nose and nods, though he says nothing.

Instead, he straightens his posture, his resolve hardening. “Let’s just focus on fixing this.” he says finally, his voice steady. He’s unsettled, undeniably, but he refuses to let them win by giving the reaction they clearly want.

As the staff arrive to clean up the mess, Jungkook quietly requests Namjoon to let the incident go. “Please... don’t tell anyone about this.” he murmurs, his tone firm. “Not Taehyung... not Y/n. No one.” He says and Namjoon nods understandingly though he feels Wooyoung's actions need to be informed, especially to you.

The cruise crew, apologetic and accommodating, offers him a new cabin for the night while all the repairs are arranged. Jungkook accepts with a quiet nod, and Namjoon insists on helping him move his luggage.

Once everything is settled, Namjoon lingers at the doorway of the new cabin. His brows knit together in concern as he looks at Jungkook.

“You sure you’ll be okay, buddy?” he asks gently. Jungkook stands in the middle of the room, arms crossed tightly over his chest. He offers a tight-lipped smile, nodding. “Yeah, don’t worry about me.” he says, his voice quieter now.

Namjoon observes him for a beat longer, noticing the tension in his shoulders, the flicker of something unresolved in his eyes. “Thanks for tonight, Namjoon.” Jungkook says after a moment, breaking the silence.

“No need to thank me, man. Just... if you need anything, call me, okay?” Namjoon’s voice is soft but reassuring. He gives Jungkook a small, supportive smile before stepping out and closing the door behind him.

Now alone, Jungkook lets out a heavy sigh as he sinks onto the edge of the bed. The events of the night replay in his mind, but they’re overshadowed by the larger storm brewing within him.

The spray-painted words and broken camera are bothersome, sure, but they pale in comparison to the weight of the new information he’s learned about you.

Why hadn’t you told him?

The question gnaws at him. His thoughts spiral, each one sharper than the last. He wonders about the secrets you kept... your family’s reality, their influence, their power, their reach. Part of him understands, he really does.

But another part wonders if you didn’t trust him enough or if you were testing him somehow. The doubt curls in his chest, tightening with each passing second.

Before he can sink further into his thoughts, his phone buzzes. The screen lights up, and your name flashes on it. He stares at it for a moment, his thumb hovering over the answer button as he draws a calming breath. He doesn’t want you to know what happened tonight. Not yet.

And even amidst the chaos, he’s missed you, and the thought of hearing your voice is a welcome relief. He finally picks up, holding the phone to his ear.

“Hi, Kook!!” Your voice is bright and warm, cutting through his clouded thoughts. Despite himself, Jungkook smiles, the tension in his shoulders easing just a little. “Hi, baby.” he murmurs softly, his voice carrying a warmth that matches yours. For a moment, everything else fades, and it’s just the two of you again.

“Oh my god, I missed you so much.” you whine, your voice filled with a playful pout. Jungkook exhales a soft laugh, leaning back onto the mattress and clutching his phone tighter against his ear. A smile tugs at his lips, one he doesn’t bother to suppress as he stares at the unfamiliar ceiling of his new cabin.

“Why? Is Jeju that boring?” he teases, the humor in his voice masking the heaviness still lingering from earlier. “Without you? Everything’s boring.” you retort, the response so quick and earnest it pulls a chuckle from him. The sound carries a warmth that he didn’t realize he desperately needed until now.

“How’s the cruise going? Having fun?” you ask, your words bubbling with genuine curiosity. Jungkook’s eyes flit to the corner of the room, where his suitcase sits haphazardly unpacked.

Fun. The word feels almost foreign after the day he’s had. But for you, he keeps his voice steady.

“Yeah, it’s been fun.” he lies smoothly, weaving the words together like armor. “Oh my god, I’m so glad to hear that!” Your excitement is so pure, so untainted, it makes him momentarily forget the day he's had. “I went to the Snoopy Garden today and it was so freaking adorable! You’d love it. We have to come here together.” you beam.

He can’t help but smile at your words. “That sounds nice, baby.” he chuckles. “Make sure to send me pictures. I wanna see.”

“Of course! I’ll send them right after we hang up.” you promise, your enthusiasm so contagious that Jungkook feels the tightness in his chest ease ever so slightly.

As you continue to talk, filling him in on the small joys and whimsical adventures of your day at the island, he feels the tension seeping out of him.

Wooyoung, the spray-painted words, the shattered camera, the mocking laughter from the hallway, all of it fades into the periphery. Your voice, your laughter, the ease with which you share your world with him... it all anchors him in a way he can’t quite explain.

A few minutes later, there’s a sudden muffled noise on your end, and Jungkook recognizes the sounds of your friends calling you. He doesn’t need to ask, he already knows what’s coming.

“Okay, baby, I think I have to go.” you say reluctantly, your voice tinged with guilt. “Miyeon and the girls are dragging me to dinner.”

He hums softly, a small, understanding smile curving his lips. “Of course, baby. Go have fun. Call me when you’re back, okay?” There’s a pause before he adds, with a quiet sincerity. “I love you.”

“Yes, I'll call you and I love you too.” you reply, your voice warm and unwavering. “Bye!”

The line goes dead, and for a moment, Jungkook stays there, staring at the phone in his hand. The cabin is silent again, but it doesn’t feel as suffocating as before. You’ve always had a way of making the world feel a little lighter, and tonight is no exception.

//

The next day flies by in a haze of chatter, laughter, and shared moments as Jungkook spends most of his time with Namjoon and Namjoon's friends.

Despite the tension simmering beneath the surface, he doesn’t let Wooyoung or his friends’ antics claw their way under his skin. He’s determined not to give them the satisfaction of a reaction.

By the next afternoon, he’s in Taehyung's car along with your cousins, Namjoon and Seokjin, driving home back from the port. The ride is filled with easy conversation and the occasional bout of laughter, a welcome distraction from the remnants of unease still lingering in his mind.

“Thanks for coming, Jungkook. I’m sorry I couldn’t spend much time with you.” Taehyung says, glancing over at Jungkook from the driver's seat, his expression apologetic. “You know how it is... my friends were dragging me everywhere.”

“It’s all good, man.” Jungkook replies with a grin. “And I totally get it. It was your bachelor party, after all.” he adds. Taehyung laughs, the sound light and carefree. “Still, I wish I could've spent more time with my sister's boyfriend.”

The familiar sight of your house comes into view not long after as Taehyung zooms past the long driveway, and Jungkook feels a wave of relief wash over him. Exhaustion tugs at his limbs, but more than anything, a quiet longing stirs in his chest. All he wants right now is to see you.

After bidding the others goodbye and hauling his luggage inside, he heads straight to your room. Your flight should be landing any time now. He checks his phone absentmindedly, hoping for a message or a call to signal your return and for now, all he can do is wait.

//

Miyeon giggles as she stretches her arms, stepping out of the car. “Most healing bachelorette party ever.” she declares, a dreamy expression on her face.

“I can still feel my masseuse’s hands on me. I don’t know what magic she used, but it feels like my back and shoulders have been reborn.” she exhales. You laugh as the guards step forward to collect your luggage. “Honestly, same. I want to go back just to get that massage again.”

As the guards carry your bags towards the house, you follow Miyeon inside, the faint chatter of voices growing louder the deeper you go. Your heels click softly against the marble floor as you both approach the lounge, as familiar voices draw your attention.

You peek inside and instantly smile. Seokjin is hunched over the billiards table, holding his cue stick with a dramatic level of precision. Namjoon stands to the side, visibly exasperated, one hand holding his cue stick against the floor while his other hand rests on his hip as he watches Seokjin line up a shot.

“Look Namjoon...” Seokjin drawls, his tone a mix of amusement and condescension. “You're supposed to stand like this. Your posture is a disgrace to billiards.”

Namjoon groans, running a hand through his hair. “Hyung, my posture isn’t the problem. The problem is you’re cheating.”

“Cheating?!” Seokjin straightens, feigning deep offense. “Excuse me, I play with honor and integrity. You, on the other hand, couldn’t aim if your life depended on it.” he shrugs.

“You’re just salty because your aim’s been off the entire game." Namjoon fires back. “Watch. I’m about to sink three balls in one shot.”

“Sure.” Taehyung interjects from his spot by the bar, swirling a glass of whiskey casually. “And when you miss, Jin hyung will find a way to roast you for the next hour.”

You and Miyeon exchange amused glances, both of you shaking your heads as the banter continues. Namjoon leans over the table dramatically, his cue stick angled as though he’s about to make the shot of the century.

Seokjin watches him like a hawk, ready to pounce on any mistake. Taehyung simply sips his drink, muttering something under his breath about “hopeless competitors.”

As you approach them, your thoughts wander. Despite the comfort of home and the familiarity of these voices, a part of you feels incomplete. Your eyes sweep the room once more, subtly searching for your boyfriend.

You’re desperate to see him, to feel his arms around you, to close the unbearable distance that’s stretched between you these past two days.

Somehow, two days have felt like an eternity. You’ve replayed every text and call in your mind, but nothing compares to having him here, tangible, in front of you.

“Oh my god, baby...” Taehyung is the first to notice the two of you approaching. Without missing a beat, he sets his glass of whiskey down on the bar and strides forward, pulling Miyeon into a warm hug. “You guys are back!” he exclaims, his smile wide and genuine as he steps back to take a good look at both of you.

You can’t help but grin at him, waving at Namjoon and Seokjin, who have momentarily paused their game of billiards to acknowledge your arrival.

After a few exchanges of pleasantries and brief chatter about the island trip, you finally ask the question that’s been burning on your mind. “Where’s Jungkook?”

“Oh, he’s up in your room. He seemed a bit tired.” Namjoon answers. Your lips part slightly as you nod. “Okay then. I’ll go to him. You guys enjoy yourselves.” you say, offering a warm smile before hugging everyone. Turning on your heels, you exit the lounge and begin making your way towards the staircase.

Just when you're in the middle of ascending the stairs, a voice interrupts you. “Y/N!”

You glance over your shoulder at the sound of your name, only to see Namjoon trailing behind you, his steps hesitant. His expression holds something you can’t quite decipher, like he’s battling with his own thoughts.

“Joonie?” you say, your voice laced with curiosity and just a hint of concern as you watch him climb the stairs to meet you.

“Hey...” he breathes out, stopping a step below yours, his gaze briefly dropping to the floor before he looks at you. His hesitation sends a ripple of unease through you.

“What’s up, Joonie??” you ask gently, studying his face for clues. The slight tension in his shoulders, the way he exhales like he’s carrying a weight he’s unsure he should share, it all sets your nerves alight.

“Y/N…” he begins, pausing as if choosing his next words carefully. “I’ve been debating whether to tell you this, but…” He trails off, his hand raking through his hair in frustration. You take a step closer, your heart beginning to pound. “Joonie?? Is everything okay??"

He sighs deeply, the sound heavy and conflicted. “Well.. It’s about Jungkook...”

The mention of your boyfriend immediately tightens something in your chest. “What happened to Jungkook?” you ask quickly, your voice rising with worry.

Namjoon hesitates, his gaze searching yours. “He didn’t want me to tell you this... but…” He exhales sharply, shaking his head. “It doesn’t feel right to keep this from you. You should know.”

Your stomach churns, dread blooming in your chest. “Know what? What happened?” you ask again.

Namjoon looks away for a moment, as though gathering the courage to speak, before his eyes meet yours again. “It started at the bar… Wooyoung approached him. He said some things... about your past... about how your mom wanted... you and Wooyoung to get married.”

The words hit you like a punch to the gut, and for a moment, you can’t breathe.

Namjoon presses on, his voice tinged with anger. “But it didn’t stop there. Wooyoung’s friends... well.. they went after Jungkook. They trashed his cabin... broke his camera... spray-painted some cruel things on the wall.” He pauses, his jaw tightening.

“They did what?” you ask, disbelief dripping from your voice. This was the last thing you ever expected to hear. Your chest tightens painfully as the weight of Namjoon’s words settles in. Jungkook had endured all of this alone and you hadn’t had the slightest clue.

And of course, knowing him you understand why he didn't want this to reach you. And somehow that breaks your heart and fills you with guilt, especially because he found out about something you’d been carefully waiting for the right moment to tell him. The layers of emotions overwhelm you, each more suffocating than the last.

“Why... why was Wooyoung even on that cruise?” you ask, your voice rising with frustration now, the disbelief giving way to simmering anger. Namjoon raises his hands quickly in defense. “Hey, That's on Jin Hyung.” he says.

"But anyways, I really thought you should know this." His voice softens as he continues. “Jungkook seemed pretty shaken up by it, even though he tried not to show it. So… please, just take care of him.”

You nod, swallowing the lump in your throat. The gratitude you feel for Namjoon is momentary, overshadowed by the urgency now coursing through your veins. Without wasting another second, you turn on your heel and dash up the stairs, heading towards your room.

//

Jungkook smiles to himself as he rests on the pillow, scrolling through the videos you'd sent him over the past two days. His chest warms as he watches a clip of you playing with two cats on the island, your laughter echoing softly through the speaker.

The way your nose scrunches in delight makes his heart flutter, and he giggles quietly, his thumb hovering over the replay button. "Where are you?" he mutters under his breath with a wistful sigh, the corners of his lips still tugged into a smile.

And just like magic, the door to your room suddenly bursts open with a loud bang. He jumps slightly, his phone nearly slipping from his hand. Before he can even process your sudden arrival, you’re bolting towards him.

Jungkook barely has time to sit up straight before you fling yourself onto him, wrapping your arms around him with a ferocity that nearly knocks the breath out of his lungs.

“Baby—” he starts, his voice laced with confusion and concern, but you cut him off before he can finish. “I’m sorry.” The words tumble out of your mouth in a shaky breath, muffled as you bury your face into the crook of his neck.

Your hold on him tightens. “I’m sorry. Namjoon told me everything. I’m sorry about Wooyoung, I’m sorry about his friends, I’m sorry about your cabin, I’m sorry about your camera…” Your voice breaks slightly as you ramble, the guilt pouring out of you in waves.

Jungkook exhales deeply, and you feel the tension in his body ease as his arms come around you, his hands resting gently on your back. He holds you close, rubbing soothing circles against your spine.

“Is this how you’re going to greet me after spending two whole days in Jeju?” he teases, his voice light with humor, though you can hear the warmth beneath it. “What happened to ‘hi, hello, I missed you?’”

Despite the joking tone, the tender way Jungkook rubs your back anchors you. You pull back slightly, just enough to meet his gaze. There’s a softness in his eyes, a quiet warmth that seems to steady your unraveling thoughts.

“I’m really sorry, Kook.” you repeat, your voice trembling as you try to convey the depth of your regret.

He shakes his head gently, his hand leaving your back to tuck a loose strand of hair behind your ear. “Baby, why are you apologizing for something you had no control over?” he asks, his tone light but earnest. “You’re not responsible for what Wooyoung or his friends did.”

“I should’ve told you about him...” you admit, your voice low, almost wavering. “About us, our past… everything. I should've been honest.”

Jungkook doesn’t answer right away. Instead, he leans forward, pressing a soft, lingering kiss to your forehead. The simple gesture makes your chest tighten with emotion, grounding you in a way that words can’t.

When he pulls back, his gaze is steady but contemplative. “Baby...” he starts carefully, his voice softer now. “Can I ask you something?”

You nod instantly, your heart thudding. “Of course. Anything.” you say. He hesitates, the flicker of uncertainty in his eyes making your stomach churn. “Why didn’t you... why didn't ever you tell me about your family?” he asks at last, the question laced with a vulnerability that makes your chest ache.

Your breath hitches at the question, and for a moment, you feel exposed. But a part of you knew this was coming. You knew that hiding your life from Jungkook and then unveiling it all on a random Thursday would inevitably lead to this moment.

“It's just…” You pause, your voice wavering as you try to find the right words, your eyes searching his face for reassurance. “Kook, when we first met... you had no idea who I was or who my family was and... you were just so... so different from all the men I grew up with.”

Jungkook doesn’t say anything, his gaze steady, waiting for you to continue. Instead, you feel his grip tighten ever so slightly, his silent way of encouraging you to speak your truth.

“You were this bright, passionate man with these beautiful, expressive eyes and that gorgeous, dreamy smile...” you begin, your voice trembling as a fond smile tugs at your lips.

“And for the first time in forever, I felt like I could just… breathe around someone. With you, I didn’t have to be this polished or poised woman who had to fit into some high-class society mold. I didn’t have to pretend to be someone else... because being myself around you... was just... so easy, without having to worry about where I came from and who my family was.”

Your thumb gently traces over the faint scar on his cheek, a gesture so intimate it makes his heart jump. His gaze softens, melting into yours as if you're the only person in the world. “You just... liked me for me. Not because of my family, my connections, or my status, but because of who I was with you. You saw me... the real me... when I didn’t even know how to see myself.”

Your voice falters slightly, but you don’t look away, letting him see the emotion in your eyes. “I know it was selfish of me... but I... so badly wanted to hold on to that feeling... the feeling of being loved in a way that felt so… pure." you pause, a shallow breath escaping your lips.

" I just… I just I didn’t know how to tell you about that part of me...”

Jungkook listens intently, his expression softening even more as your words sink in. Slowly, he tugs you closer, pulling you into his warm embrace. You feel his heartbeat steady against your own, his presence grounding you in a way only he can.

“Baby...” he whispers, his voice low as his fingertips trail soothing patterns along your back. “For me, it’s always been you. It always will be you. None of that other stuff matters... your family, your status, your class... they’re just parts of you that I’ll embrace because they make up the woman I love. But beyond all that, I love you for you.”

His voice dips into something deeper, more vulnerable. “And I’m glad I could bring out the real you. It’s everything I’ve ever wanted, and it’s an honor to be able to experience that side of you." he hugs you tighter, before continuing.

"You have no idea how my world has changed ever since you entered it. You make everything... brighter and just... more bearable. You make it all make sense. So thank you for coming into my life. Thank you for trusting me with your heart.”

Your eyes well up as you close them, leaning into his embrace. The warmth of his words, paired with the steady rhythm of his heartbeat, feels like the safest place you’ve ever known. “Thank you for coming into my life too.” you breathe out, voice thick with emotion.

After a beat of silence, you pull back slightly. “But I’m still sorry about Wooyoung. I'm going to give him a piece of my mind, I swear—”

“Hey.” He cuts you off, a small chuckle escaping his lips as he shakes his head. “There’s no need for that. Let’s just forget it happened, okay?”

You pout, reluctant to let it go, but his soft, reassuring expression makes you falter. “Fine...” you huff, a sigh escaping your lips. “Still...” you murmur, your fingers absentmindedly playing with the hem of his collar. “I’m sorry, Kook. Thank you... for always being so understanding. I truly don’t deserve you.”

He shakes his head, the faintest hint of exasperation softened by the smile tugging at his lips. "You deserve the world, baby. And I’ll spend the rest of my life proving it to you.”

A soft giggle escapes you, the light in his eyes mirrored by the smile that refuses to leave your lips. “I love you.” you whisper, the words filled with every ounce of emotion you’ve been holding in.

His toothy smile, the one that always makes your heart flutter, breaks across his face. “I love you too.” he replies.

And just like that, as if drawn by an unspoken force, he leans in, capturing your lips with his. The warmth of his kiss washes over you, soothing every ache, every worry, and filling you with a certainty that everything is exactly as it’s meant to be.

//

"Do we get to eat them ??" Jungkook asks, leaning against the doorframe, his eyes following your reflection in the mirror as you brush your hair. A giggle escapes your lips at his eager tone. “Of course, baby. You can eat all of them if you want to.” you reply, shooting him a playful grin.

With the wedding just around the corner, the house is bustling with preparations, but today feels different. Your grandma insisted on gathering everyone to make dumplings for the rehearsal dinner that's coming up.

You and Jungkook make your way to the dining room, the air filled with the warm aroma of freshly prepared ingredients. The large table is the centerpiece of the room, and as soon as you step inside, the sight of your family fills you with comfort and joy.

Taehyung and Seokjin are already deep in their dumpling-making attempts, though it's clear they’ve caused more chaos than progress.

Both of them have flour smeared across their faces like war paint, a result of what must’ve been an enthusiastic but poorly thought-out experiment.

“Hyung, that dumpling looks like a deflated balloon.” Taehyung teases Seokjin, holding up his creation for comparison. Seokjin huffs, rolling his eyes. “At least mine isn’t oozing out stuffing like yours, Tae. What are you making? A dumpling that's throwing up?”

“Call it modern art, Hyung.” Taehyung retorts, grinning mischievously as he tosses a bit of flour at Seokjin, who gasps dramatically. “Yah! Taehyung, do you want me to dump this entire bowl of stuffing on your head?” Seokjin warns, clearly frustrated.

Across the table, Namjoon and Miyeon work with quiet precision, their movements synchronized like a well-rehearsed dance. Namjoon occasionally sneaks a glance at the chaos brewing between Taehyung and Seokjin, shaking his head with a fond smile.

“You two are worse than toddlers.” he quips, not looking up from his perfectly shaped dumpling. “At this rate, we're all gonna finish a hundred dumplings before you guys finish ten.”

Miyeon chuckles, her hands deftly sealing another dumpling. “Joon's right. How are you both so bad at this? It’s not rocket science.”

Taehyung gasps in mock offense. “Excuse me, babe, I don't know if you've noticed but Jin hyung is literally sabotaging me!” he exclaims. “I’m the one sabotaging you?” Seokjin laughs incredulously. “Look at my face, Tae. I look like a ghost, thanks to you!”

Namjoon’s mom, your favorite aunt, sits at the far end of the table as she rolls the dough into perfect circles, her laughter ringing like a bell.

“Boys, boys...” she interjects, her voice gentle but firm. “Stop fighting and focus on your dumplings. Otherwise, your future kids will hear stories about how their dads couldn’t make dumplings to save their lives.”

Everyone bursts out laughing at her comment, even Taehyung and Seokjin, who share a sheepish grin before returning to their task.

As you and Jungkook approach the group, everyone greets the two of you with warm smiles. Jungkook pulls out a chair for you to sit, earning a scrunch of your nose in fondness at the sweet gesture. After you’re settled, he takes the seat beside you, his hand instinctively finding yours under the table.

"So, I see Tae and Jin are already setting records... for failure...” you quip, your eyes gleaming with mischief as you glance at the disfigured dumplings piled in front of them. “Hey, those are Tae’s!” Seokjin protests, pushing forward another plate of equally disastrous dumplings. “Mine look way better, see?”

“Ah, yes.” you reply with mock solemnity, inspecting the plate. “Such fine craftsmanship. Truly an expert.” you giggle.

Everyone bursts into laughter and so does Jungkook, his eyes crinkling as he takes in the scene. He looks around, marveling at the tender warmth that surrounds your family.

“Okay, watch closely everyone...” you suddenly announce, picking up a perfect circle of dough. “The secret to making a good dumpling is love. And also, not being like Taehyung.” you grin.

“Hey!” Taehyung protests, earning another round of laughter. You press on, your tone turning exaggeratedly instructive.

“First, you scoop just the right amount of stuffing... not too much, or it’ll explode like Tae’s modern art pieces.” You hold up a small spoonful of filling, placing it precisely in the center of the dough. Jungkook observes your actions, a fond smile tugging at his lips.

“Next, you fold it in half, like you’re tucking it in for a nap. Be gentle, it’s delicate.”

Jungkook leans in closer, watching intently as your fingers press the edges together. “Then, you join the edges, like this... pinch... pinch... pinch.” you continue, your fingers deftly creating a neat, ruffled pattern. “Think of it as accessorizing your dumpling... it needs to be cute, you know?”

“Wow...” Jungkook murmurs, his voice full of awe. “You’re like the Michelangelo of dumplings.” he giggles. “Please.” you reply with a dramatic shrug. “I’m just a humble dumpling artist.”

Emboldened, Jungkook picks up his own piece of dough, determination written all over his face. “Alright, let me try. Scoop... fold.... pinch, pinch, pinch… done!” He holds up his quick creation triumphantly. You glance at it and press your lips together to stifle a laugh.

“Hmm....” you say, tilting your head. “Looks like your dumpling had a very long night.” you tease as the rest of the table laughs. “It’s rustic.” Jungkook counters, grinning despite himself. “Rustic indeed.” you tease, your laugh mingling with his.

As Jungkook continues fumbling with the dough, his brow furrowed in concentration, he glances around the lively table and decides to engage. “So, did you guys do this even as kids?” he asks, his voice light and curious as eyes dart between you, Taehyung and your cousins.

Before anyone can respond, the mood shifts. Your mother strides into the room, carrying a fresh tray of stuffing. Jungkook’s posture stiffens instinctively as her gaze briefly locks with his.

Her expression is impassive... polite on the surface but brimming with subtle tension. She sets the tray down and takes a seat directly across from the two of you, her movements precise and deliberate.

“Hi, Mama.” you greet warmly, your voice bright as you flash her a quick smile. She returns it with practiced ease but doesn’t linger, her attention quickly shifting to the task at hand. Her eyes flick to Jungkook, assessing him with a glance that’s colder than he’d prefer. He swallows hard, the discomfort settling in his chest like a heavy stone.

“It was more like we didn’t have a choice.” Namjoon pipes up, steering the conversation back to Jungkook’s question. His teasing tone earns chuckles from Seokjin and Taehyung, who nod in agreement.

“Exactly.” your aunt chimes in, shooting Namjoon an exaggerated glare. "We taught you, so you'd know the blood, sweat and tears it took to raise and feed you monkeys." she says as everyone laughs. Jungkook smiles faintly, grateful for the distraction, though the unease lingers.

The past few days at your family’s home had been a mix of warmth and tension for him. While the rest of your family had embraced him easily, your mother’s guarded demeanor made him feel like he was walking on eggshells. He’s done his best to stay out of her way, but now, sitting face-to-face, her disapproval is palpable.

“If we don’t pass down traditions like this, they’ll disappear.” your mother says suddenly, her voice cutting through the chatter. She folds the dough around a perfect mound of stuffing, her movements sharp and efficient. Without lifting her eyes from her work, she continues. “I’m sure you find all of this unusual.”

Her words hang heavy in the air, and Jungkook feels the weight of her unspoken judgment. “They don’t teach things like this in the West, do they?” she continues, finally meeting his gaze. Her eyes are cool, her tone sharp enough to draw blood.

The room falls silent, the cheerful chatter replaced by thick tension. Jungkook swallows, unsure how to respond while you shift in your seat, your breath hitching at the unwanted confrontation. Before you can step in, Seokjin's voice breaks the silence.

“Grandma!” he exclaims, leaping to his feet as your grandmother enters the room. He strides towards her with exaggerated enthusiasm, offering his arm. “You’re finally here!”

Grateful for the distraction, everyone rises to greet her respectfully. Her presence is like a balm, soothing the room’s strained energy. She smiles warmly, her eyes crinkling at the corners as she takes in the bustling scene.

“Y/N-ah...” she says, her gaze landing on you before shifting to Jungkook. “You brought Jungkook too.” Her smile widens as she inches closer to him, her hand lifting to cup his cheek gently. “Hello, sweetheart.” she says, her voice warm and affectionate.

Jungkook bows slightly, his lips curving into a polite smile. “Hello, Grandma.” he replies softly, the tension in his chest easing under her kind gaze.

As everyone settles back into their seats, your grandmother sits at the head of the table, near your mother, her sharp eyes scanning the dumplings in front of her. “Did you make those?” she asks lightly, a playful smile tugging at her lips.

Your mother forces out a stiff smile. “Yes, Ma.” she replies. “Hmm.” your grandmother hums thoughtfully, inspecting the dumplings more closely. “It seems you’ve lost your touch.” she adds.

Jungkook notices the way your mother’s jaw tightens, her forced smile barely hiding the undercurrent of irritation. “I’ll do better.” she replies, her voice taut, the words clipped as if forcing themselves out.

It’s a subtle moment, so fleeting it slips past everyone else in the room, including you. But Jungkook catches it. The way her fingers pause ever so slightly over the dumpling she’s shaping, the sharp edge in her tone... it all lingers in the air, faint yet telling.

Just as he processes what he’s seen, your mother’s gaze suddenly snaps up, meeting his. Jungkook’s eyes widen instinctively, caught off guard by her piercing stare. Her expression shifts in an instant, the forced warmth melting away to reveal a sour look that seems to pin him in place.

In that split second, Jungkook realizes... she knows he saw it.

Not wanting to overstep or make things worse he quickly averts his eyes, pretending to focus on the dumpling in his hands. He swallows hard, willing himself to appear unaffected, as though he hadn’t just witnessed the moment.

But the unease remains. He can feel her gaze lingering on him for a second longer before she looks away, her mask of politeness slipping back into place.

Jungkook exhales softly, his shoulders tight as he resumes his task. He glances at you, wondering if you’ve noticed anything, but you’re too engrossed in folding the dumplings to sense the silent exchange.

Still, the weight of your mother's reaction stays with him. For the first time, he wonders if your mother’s reservations aren’t just about him but about something deeper, something unresolved within her.

//

As Jungkook steps out of the dining room, the faint smell of flour and spices still clinging to his hands, he glances around, searching for the washroom. Despite having spent days at your house, he still finds the maze-like layout disorienting. The grand size of the place only adds to his sense of displacement.

He sighs in mild frustration, realizing he’s turned down the wrong hallway yet again. Just as he’s about to retrace his steps, he notices someone approaching from the other end. His stomach sinks slightly as he recognizes your mother.

She seems preoccupied as she carefully dusts her dress. Jungkook freezes instinctively, his smile faltering as she nears. Though he musters up a polite smile when she looks up, she doesn’t return it.

As the silence stretches and her gaze lingers on him, Jungkook decides to break the tension. “I’m…” he begins, clearing his throat nervously. “I’m a little lost.” he admits with an awkward laugh, gesturing vaguely towards the hallway behind him.

Your mother stops a few feet away, her arms crossed loosely. Her expression is unreadable, though Jungkook can feel the weight of her scrutiny. “This house can be... confusing.” she replies, her tone neutral but edged with something unspoken.

Jungkook nods quickly, eager to agree. “Yeah, definitely. I thought I had it figured out, but I keep ending up in the wrong place.” He chuckles softly, rubbing the back of his neck.

She studies him for a moment longer before sighing quietly. “The washroom is down that way.” she curtly says, pointing towards the opposite hall.

“Oh, okay. Thank you.” Jungkook says, his tone earnest. He hesitates for a moment, feeling the urge to say something more... something to break the wall between them. “Also... I… I just really wanted to thank you..." he starts and your mother's brows furrow, trying to understand where this is coming from.

Jungkook notices her confusion and decides to press on, his voice tentative yet earnest. “For, um… for letting me stay here. I know it can’t be easy, having someone new around. But I just… I really appreciate it.” he says, his words measured yet sincere.

She studies him for a moment, her gaze unreadable. Then, a faint, almost imperceptible smile curls one corner of her lips. “It isn’t easy.” she admits, her tone steady, though there’s an edge to it that makes him slightly uneasy.

“But, surprisingly…” she begins, stepping a little closer, her expression unreadable. “I see myself in you.” she says. Jungkook blinks, unsure how to respond. He waits, the weight of her words hanging in the air like a storm cloud.

“Y/N’s grandmother...” she continues, her voice calm. “She was never accepting of me. When Y/N’s father told her he wanted to marry me… well, let’s just say it was far from a warm approval.”

Her gaze locks onto Jungkook’s, her eyes sharp and unwavering. “I wasn’t her first choice. And, honestly...” she chuckles dryly, though the sound lacks humor. “I wasn’t her second either.”

Jungkook’s expression softens as understanding starts to dawn, the earlier interaction between her and your grandmother now making more sense. “Gosh… I’m so sorry. I had no idea.” he says quickly, his voice laced with genuine remorse.

She acknowledges his apology with a small smile, though her gaze remains cold, unyielding. “I didn’t come from the right family, didn’t have the right connections. To her, I wasn’t an adequate match for her son.” she explains.

“But… she eventually came around, right?” Jungkook asks cautiously, his tone tinged with hope. She exhales, the sound heavy with years of pent-up emotion.

“It took many years.” she admits, nodding faintly. “She had her reasons... valid ones, even. But I worked hard, sacrificed more than I ever thought I could. Eventually, she saw how much traditions and family mattered to me, and maybe that earned her respect. But...” she pauses, her faint smile turning somber. “There were many days when I wondered if I’d ever truly measure up.”

Jungkook listens intently, his chest tightening with a newfound appreciation for the struggles your mother seemed to have endured.

“And having lived through all of that...” she begins again, her voice lower now, each word carrying weight. “I know one thing for certain...”

She takes another step closer, her presence suddenly oppressive. Her smile twists into something darker, a faint smirk with a sharp edge that sends a shiver down Jungkook’s spine.

“You will never be enough.”

<- part 4 // part 6 ->

series masterlist

taglist: @mirinaeii @taetaecatboy @tsukiesimp @lovingkoalaface @taekrve @jaytheatiny @loverofannabeth @jaerisdiction @whoa-jo @parkinglot-nights @reneeblack6230 @rrosiitas

[jehhskz]

Love Again - Part 2

she fell first, and she fell harder

summary: you just got back to Seoul, and hopefully you'll get back into his heart too

genre: romance, fluffy cliche, second chances, smut

warning: this fic contains smut, so it was made for adults only, MDNI.

jé's note: did a little something super self indulgent, if you read this, please be kind, it's my first time and english isn't my first language. huge thank you for my girlies for all the support, special thanks to @doitforbangchan & @jeonginsleftcheek for beta reading it, your words made me happy. and it got a little big, so i had to split it into 2, the link for part 1

divider by @saradika-graphics

After the passport issue, Joo-wan rearranged for you to go with the boys to Japan. At first you were excited, making plans just like you did for Australia, but now you were desperate texting everyone from the staff team to go on your behalf, but unfortunately, everybody already had their own plans they couldn’t cancel. 

You wanted to cry, you didn't want to be near Hyunjin, you didn't want to hear his voice, didn't want to see him, because you knew you wouldn't be able to hold back the tears, like you weren't now, already feeling them falling down on your cheeks. 

You were watching everyone's close friends stories, loving to see the boys partying and having fun, you chuckled seeing the picture Changbin posted of him carrying Hyunjin in their ‘honeymoon’ as he captioned, Joo-wan video dancing to My House by 2PM was amazing, but something you saw in the back caught your attention: Chae-hee going upstairs hugging Hyunjin, your laughing stopped and your heart sank.

Then it was Na-yeon's video with Minho, they appeared in the back again, a new angle, making their way to the stairs, Hyunjin's arm was thrown over her shoulder. But the worst was yet to come.

Heyoon rushed home as soon as she finished her work, finding you crying, curled in your bed, she laid behind you, a comforting hand gently tapping your shoulder as you told her all about it. It all started when you saw the green neon ring, Chae-hee added you to her close friends.

There was a picture of Hyunjin, his back turned to the mirror, you couldn’t see his face, but Chae-hee’s, she was hugging him, head resting on his shoulder and she had her tongue out, looking directly at the mirror as she took the picture. 

Next one was them lying in bed, it was mostly their faces but you could still see the clothes on, he had his eyes closed and a slight smile, Chae-hee was doing a peace sign and winking, she wrote ‘the best day’ on it. 

Then the last one made your stomach twist, it was the day after, Chae-hee made a video, Slow Down by Chase Atlantic was playing, it was blurry at the beginning but it was clearly Hyunjin lying there, peacefully sleeping, then she turned the camera, giggling and blowing kisses, wearing nothing but his robe, the Hyunjin engraved appearing as she stopped in front of the mirror, ending the vídeo. 

Timing's really a bitch. As you saw the grey bar of that last stories coming to an end, you got a new message:

Jagiya: about to catch the flight, missing you 😘

The pang in your heart got worse. 

~ {♡} ~

“Oh my God, Na-yeon!” Chae-hee grabbed the younger by her arms roughly “How many times do I have to tell it's three steps then turn to the right, not to the left!” 

“I'm sorry, Chae-hee. I'll pay more attention from now on” Na-yeon's voice was shaky.

“You better, we are about to debut, mistakes like this aren’t supposed to happen” Chae-hee glanced at the girls, as if warning.

Their music was still playing and the volume was up, so they only realized the door was opened when you stepped in. Chae-hee was still gripping on Na-yeon's arms, her long nails digging on the flesh, she let go of her roughly when she saw you. 

Her grip quickly turned into an embrace, a stupid attempt to fool you or whoever walked in that nothing was happening.

“Oh, excuse me” You said as you rushed to the couch “I forgot my water bottle here” 

Of course, of all the people, you had to run on Chae-hee, you didn't notice her grin when she saw you, so triumfant for the way you and Hyunjin fell apart, but you surely noticed the fear in Na-yeon's eyes, when she glanced at you and then your suspicious were confirmed, there it was: the last strike.

With a last glance before closing the door, Chae-hee smirked, waving at you. 

Enjoy while it lasts Chae-hee, that smirk will vanish your lips really soon, you thought while you waved back and closed the door.

Now, all you needed was to come with a plan to gather proof. And tag along with the Hyung Line for their solo mv's shooting, a full group mv shooting, going to do christmas shopping, attend a birthday party all in the meanwhile keep avoiding Hyunjin. Ugh, the end of semesters can be so tiring.

~ {♡} ~ 

You were acting weird, Hyunjin realized it as soon as you reunited after he came back from Australia, barely hugging him when you met at the company, which at first he thought it was because there was people around, but then you were taking longer and longer to answer his texts, so cold and distant, so different from your usual bubbly self. 

Then, you'd give excuses to not be alone with him and didn't even bring coffee for the boys as you usually did. At first he didn’t pay much mind, you were probably pmsing, Hannah would always get moody around this time of the month, Chan told him.  

But damn, how long does a pms lasts? The weeks were passing and it only seemed like you were becoming more distant, more strange. 

He was looking gorgeous, yeah you thought it all the time, but this time, wearing a crop top, he was just extra good, the sight of his abs making you want to cry, because there was nothing you wanted more than kiss and lick the exposed skin. And he knew it, so the fact you didn't push him inside the nearest storage room was weird af. 

Also, what were you doing typing so fast and with your eyes glued on your phone all the time?

Annoyed, during the break from filming, he grabbed the device from you, his fingers wrapped around your wrist and he pulled you inside a storage. 

“Hey, what are you doing? Are you crazy?” You were surprised as you watched him close the door, lean on his back and scroll through your phone, reading your messages.

“All good… will be great… you know the place?… see you tomorrow… can't wait?” He was reading your texts aloud. 

“It seems like you're being the crazy one here” He stared at you “Are you cheating on me?” 

Hyunjin's audacity was something you always loved, but right now?

It was annoying you beyond limits.

“What?” Your eyes widened as you heard his question, he couldn’t be serious “Are you insane? Of course not!” 

“Then what the fuck is this?” He showed the screen to you, your chat with Min Kyu on display. 

“It's just some work stuff” You shrugged and he rolled his eyes.

“Some work stuff?”

“Yeah”

“Just that?” He insisted, hoping you'd tell him what exactly you've been up to, but instead you just nodded and then stayed silent.

“So this is how it's going to be? We've got secrets from each other now” He scoffed, running his hand through his hair. 

“Yeah, I guess so” You crossed your arms in front of your chest “You didn't seem to care when it was your turn” 

“Oh my God, y/n. Is it still about Chae-hee? I told you, I didn’t tell you she was there because it wasn't a big deal!” His tone was hard, he was annoyed you were still holding grudges.

That was what it was for him, no big deal. He cheated on you, he fucked Chae-hee and it wasn't a big deal. 

“Right, no big deal. The party? No big deal either” You scoffed.

“Yeah, it’s nothing serious either, you get drunk and those stuff happens” 

No big deal. Stuff happens.

You clenched your fists, his luck was him being at work, and being called by another staff that was looking for him. 

“Don't think we're done, because we aren’t” His voice was cold, he was clearly mad at you, as if he had any right to be, you thought. 

But he still grabbed your jaw to hold you in place and gave you a quick kiss before leaving to film.

Proving your heart and brain weren’t connected, you kissed him back and it made you even more annoyed.

You were avoiding him the majority of time and would have left if Hyunjin didn’t predict that and walked away with your phone, forcing you to wait until he finished filming.

Hyunjin was mad because you were being a brat for no reason. If there was a person who had the right to be mad at him, it was Felix, and the boy was completely fine.

No, Hyunjin wasn’t a heartless bitch like you were thinking, it was simply that you and him had different pov’s of what happened in Australia. 

Every story has two sides: what people remember and what really happened. 

You knew Chae-hee and Hyunjin's side, now let's go back to that night and find out who was speaking the truth.

~ {♡} ~

“You're so cute, I'm gonna eat bread” Hyunjin threw himself over Jeongin, disheveling the younger's hair. 

“Noo, leave me alone” Jeongin held his hands, and Hyunjin sniffed him, murmuring against his head that his hair smelled good.

“I think you should stop drinking” Jeongin said as he fixed Hyunjin's posture, sitting him properly on the couch. 

Hyunjin nodded and then leaned on his back. 

“No more drinking” He smiled cheekly.

“Seriously, you had enough” Jeongin laughed.

“Inniee, when am I not being serious?” Hyunjin threw his hands up, then looked at Jeongin when the boy opened his mouth to reply “Don't!” 

After a few minutes, Hyunjin seemed to be fine, he told Jeongin he didn’t need to worry and that he would head to their room soon. He wasn’t too drunk, it was okay to leave him alone, so Jeongin thought he could make a quick stop at the kitchen. 

“Hey there” Hyunjin jolted when Chae-hee sat beside him, making her giggle, she held out a drink for him.

“No, thanks. I'm fine” He waved, but she kept her hand still.

“Please Hyun, I insist” She smiled at him “Just a toast, uh? To celebrate the success of the tour” 

He looked at her and then at the cup. 

“Please?” She batted her eyelashes and he thought why not, just a cup wouldn’t be bad, he took it and she grinned.

“Cheers!” She clinked their cups, eyes locked with his as they drank.

Her breath caught in her throat when his face twisted, but she breathed again when she saw he kept drinking.

Just one drink became a few more, until Hyunjin got tired and stood up, he tripped when he took a step. Chae-hee quickly stood up and held him.

“Hey, easy there, buddy” Chae-hee giggled, placing his arm over her shoulder and wrapping her arm around his waist. 

“C'mon, I'll help you” And just like that, she guided him towards the stairs.

Jeongin saw them going, but since he didn’t know about you and him being together and knew about Chae-hee's interest in Hyunjin, he didn't pay much mind. 

Entering the room Chae-hee saw the mirror next to the door and smirked, she turned Hyunjin to stand facing her, hugging him and quickly snapped a picture. 

Too drunk to notice, he plopped down on the bed as soon as she let him go, and she laid by his side.

Chae-hee tried to lean closer to him, but he turned to the other side.

She tried again, using her hand to turn his face to her but he turned back again. Chae-hee scoffed and sat down, crossing her arms, thinking.

“Hyun, why are you being so cold with me? Don’t you like me anymore?” Chae-hee whispered, looking down at him, Hyunjin didn’t say a thing.

The girl grabbed her phone and clicked on the filming icon, hopefully she could take a good screenshot later. She laid back again.

“Is it because of y/n, isn't it?” Hyunjin smiled when she mentioned your name.

“I remember the way you used to look at me, watch me practice…” Her breath hit his neck, making him chuckle slightly and shift away. 

“You wanted to fuck me, didn't you?” She teased him and he drunkenly nodded, Chae-hee smirked.

“Well, I’m here now, this is your chance” Chae-hee shrugged, seeing he didn’t make a move, she tugged him by his shirt, pulling him closer to her, throwing a leg over his, ‘side straddling’ him. 

He groaned, placing a hand on her waist and Chae-hee smirked. 

“Chae-hee?” Hyunjin whispered and she leaned closer.

“Yes, Hyun?” Her voice was sultry, she closed her eyes, leaning even closer.

“I'm gonna…” But he didn’t finish the phrase, because he started vomiting.

“Ewwww” Chae-hee screamed and scooted away from him like a flash “What the fuck??” 

Hyunjin rolled on his back again, his eyes still closed. 

Chae-hee got off the bed with a jump, her face twisted when she looked at the mattress, but then her gaze landed on the Versace robe thrown over a chair and it gave her an idea.

Luckily she decided to wear a sleeveless top tonight, so when she took her jacket off and wore the robe, positioning her phone on the right angle it gave the illusion she was bare under it. Perfect.

Taking a last glance at him, she assumed he fell asleep, because he didn’t shift. So, Chae-hee took the robe off, threw it back on the chair and rushed outside of the room.

She ran into Felix as she was heading back to the stairs, and he believed her lame excuse of the bathroom downstairs being occupied. He was sharing the room with Hyunjin, and was just about to find his drunk friend there. 

~ {♡} ~

It was usual for some idols to have a ‘favorite’ practice room, some would say the aura was different, it gave them good luck and such things. For Chae-hee, her preference for that practice room was because she heard Jong-ho - her staff - saying the security camera stopped working a few months ago.

After you confirmed your suspicions about Chae-hee abusing Na-yeon, you knew you needed more than words to prove it. Learning the camera wasn't working felt very disappointing, but also made sense why that room was always reserved for LuaX. 

You knew Na-yeon wouldn’t have the guts to expose Chae-hee, so you had to come with a plan C, and that's when you texted Min Kyu, being a software engineer, he surely would know what to do. 

Not telling anyone about your plan was difficult, you hated keeping secrets, especially from Hyunjin, but you thought he would think you were just trying to get rid of Chae-hee because you were being jealous, he also didn’t tell you she was there in Australia, and Hyunjin had a lot of chances to, and then… he fucked her there, and couldn’t even man up and tell you he fucked up and apologise or break up. 

Jagiya: where are you? 

To avoid curious eyes, you and Min Kyu met up at the agency on saturday morning, a day you knew the company would be almost empty. 

“Are you sure this will work?” You asked, watching him sat down on the floor, installing a micro camera inside an electrical outlet. 

“You'd be surprise with the quality” He looked up and smirked “Why don't you pick the laptop, I'll move around for you to check?” 

“Okay” You went to sit down on the couch and put the laptop on your thighs “Is this C34 program?” 

“Yeah, just click and it will start automatically” 

“Alright” You clicked and the vídeo player appeared on the screen, you saw the room and Min Kyu walking around perfectly.

“It's great!” You clapped, watching him jumping around and you chuckled.

Jagiya: what do you mean you aren’t coming tonight?

Jagiya: yongbok just told me

Jagiya: why aren't you replying to my messages?

Jagiya: never mind, be ready at 7, i'm coming to pick you up

You: don’t, i’m not going

~ {♡} ~ 

Hyunjin went, and now it was 7:20, you left him on the couch, but he moved to your bedroom, lying in your bed while you were in the shower, because there was no way you’d appear on the holiday festivities of the team wearing sweatpants. Your little jolt of surprise when you walked in and saw him there didn't go unnoticed by him, who laughed even more when you opened your drawer and closet to pick your clothes.

“You can change here, you know?” He said cheekly “It's nothing I've never seen before”

“No!” Your exclamation before shutting the bathroom's door made him chuckle.

You looked pretty, Hyunjin thought when you came back all dolled up, wearing an army green top and dark wash jeans that matched his and black boots. You were putting on your earrings when he got up.

“You're looking good” Hyunjin said as he stood behind you. 

“Thanks, you look good too” He was wearing a light blue shirt that you were pretty sure was from Versace. 

“I know” His cocky grin appeared. 

You looked at you both in the mirror. He wasn’t supposed to be here first place, but damn, why was it so hard for you to ignore him? Why did you have to be the weakest soldier?

Maybe, just maybe… you had hoped it all was a huge misunderstanding, but then…

You saw the photos, the video, how could you still be so delusional if there was proof? 

And why did he keep acting like nothing happened? He didn't have any consideration for you? 

If Chae-hee didn't post, he'd be fooling you all this time. This realization made your heart sink. 

Chae-hee was still a major bitch, of course, but she actually did you a favor, showing you his true colors.

“Where's your car?” You looked around when you left the house, then turned to face him.

“It's home, I’ll be drinking so I’m not driving tonight” His phone buzzed and he grabbed it from his pocket, he smiled.

“Great, Felix's coming” Hyunjin threw an arm over your shoulder and you shivered, but instead of hugging him back, you crossed your arms in front of you.

“Don't you think you're exaggerating?” You couldn’t tell if he was teasing you or being serious. Either way, it annoyed you.

“I mean, I get you're jealous, it was even kind of cute before, but now it's starting to piss me off” You shifted away from him.

“Well, if I'm bothering you so much, why don't you go out with Chae-hee instead?” You saw him roll his eyes, leaning back against the wall “You two seemed to have so much fun together”

“Damn it y/n!” He ran his hand through his hair and then pointed at you “See? That's why I didn’t tell you she was there, because you'd start a tempest in a teapot” 

“Ohh so now it's my fault?” 

“I was thinking about you and…” His tone was raising, but you interrupted him.

“Thinking about me? I think I was the last thing crossing your mind while you were there distracting her!” 

“I told you I accepted to go out because she was crying, she’s about to debut, that’s not easy y/n, I've been there, I know how it feels!” 

“So being the great person you’re, you were just comforting her…” He nodded, despite your ironic tone “Hyunjin's so great, taking his little friend to get ice cream, yeah”

“I know she wasn't sucking just popsicles!” You snapped and his eyes widened. 

“What do you mean?”

“The party, Hyunjin. Stop trying to fool me, I know everything, Chae-hee posted you and her together!” 

Hyunjin had no idea about what you thought that happened at the party, until now. Damn, he barely had any memories from it, aside from some flashes of him dancing, drinking and the worst headache he ever felt on the next day.

“But y/n, I didn’t… I…” 

“Shhh, do us both a favor and don't even start!” You waved him off, turning away, just a little more and you knew you'd be pathetically crying in front of him.

He didn’t have much time to think or even say anything else, because Felix's car was just turning the corner and driving down the street.

You stayed silent the whole drive to the restaurant, staring out of the window and wiping the insistent tears that would escape, glad your mascara was waterproof.

~ {♡} ~ 

Some of the staff and the boys were already there when you arrived. You made sure to sit with Changbin and Chaeryeong, staying very far away from Hyunjin, avoiding even looking at his way.

Joo-wan was grilling the beefs, Seungmin was making sure no one’s cup was empty and you were concealing your sadness really well, enjoying the chat with your friends. 

During the drive there, Hyunjin tried to remember the details of that night, he remembered Chae-hee being at the party, she had some drinks with her, he tripped and then he was already in bed. He remembered her talking to him…

And that was all. He was sure he didn’t do anything, there was no way, but what the hell were those stuff you said you saw? 

That was the question burning in the back of Hyunjin's head… until the alcohol kicked in.

“Alright, alright. Time to reveal our resolutions for next year!” Changbin exclaimed excitedly.

“Are we finally seeing your abs?” Minho teased, making everyone laugh.

“Wait, what resolutions?” Jisung's eyes got wide.

“I have no idea” Jeongin chuckled. 

“Well, you'd know what I'm talking about if you checked the group chat” Changbin said, annoyed and the boys laughed.

“Which reminds me, where's our list from last year? We gotta check if we achieved it or not” He looked over everyone and nobody had a clue.

“Wait, wasn't Han responsible for that?” Seungmin questioned and Jisung grabbed his phone, checking the notes.

“Oh shit, I lost it” He whined.

“Jisung's resolution: stop losing things!” Minho chuckled when Han cursed him.

“Now Chan, what's your plans for next year?” Changbin turned to the older.

“Okay, let’s see…” Chan thought for a moment “Next year I plan on fixing my sleep”

“I'll learn english!” Minho raised his hand.

And so it went, Chaeryeong was taking notes as everyone would list their resolutions. 

“Next year I won’t let people use me as they please” You said looking directly at Hyunjin and despite being drunk, he understood it right away.

“Ohh that's a good one!” Joo-wan high fived you.

“Next year I'll talk to my partner instead of jumping to conclusions” It was Hyunjin's turn, and he stared at you too.

“Oh yeah, communication’s important” A drunk Jeongin nodded.

“I won’t need to jump into conclusions because my partner won’t give me reasons to be suspicious of him” You looked at him again.

“Yes, we love reassuring men!” Nabi, another staff member, clapped. 

Han and Felix exchanged looks.

“I'll wear more crop tops on stage!” Jeongin said completely oblivious to the tension going on.

“I won’t waste my time with a girl who doesn't trust me” Hyunjin scoffed.

“Yeah, if she doesn’t trust you, she isn't worth it” Joo-wan said and Hyunjin right at you as he nodded.

You couldn’t tell what hurted more, Hyunjin's cold tone or him calling you a waste of time. 

“Oh, you'll definitely have plenty of options to pick, let’s just hope you're smart enough to make the right choice and not let bitches use you again” You hissed and Hyunjin scoffed.

“Okay, this is getting a bit personal” Changbin whispered to Chaeryeong.

“Are they dating?” She whispered back at him and he was about to answer when you stood up and left.

“Uhh, don’t think so anymore” Changbin whispered and they both watched as Hyunjin stormed off after you seconds later.

“Y/n!” You froze for a moment when you heard Hyunjin call you.

“Don't waste your time coming after me!” You started walking again, your heels clicking as you stepped determined to the garbage cans. 

“What are you doing?” Hyunjin shouted when he saw you trying to pull the ring he gave to you. His fingers brushed his own automatically. 

“What looks like I'm doing?I'll throw this off!” You hissed, struggling to take the ring off of your finger. You cursed under your breath, it was stuck.

You tried some more, whining but wouldn’t give up until you took it off. Gazing at him, your closed hand reached the recycle bin and you opened, the ring making a clink sound as it hit the bottom. 

“Y/n, what the fuck did you do?” His eyes widened and he shouted, grabbing you by your shoulders.

He let go of you and went to the bin, trying to shove his arm inside to take it back. 

Luckily all the trash was collected earlier and the bins were sanitized. 

“You know what? Why don't you take the opportunity since you're already there and throw yourself too?” You crossed your arms in front of yourself.

“But not on this one, no, no. Let's be organized, dildos belong to that one!” You kept running your mouth, pointing to the plastic ones.

He ignored you, too worried about taking the jewel back.

“Damn it, y/n. It was expensive!” Hyunjin shouted again, he took a few steps back, running his hands through his hair. 

You shut your mouth, reality kicked in, the ring wasn't a simple one you can buy on those little tents on the street.

It was a jewel, original, a whole year of your salary worth it.

Oh shit.

“Oh my God, I fucked up, I fucked up” You cried out, taking large steps to the bin you threw it and leaning onto it.

In your attempt to trying to reach, you were almost falling inside “I'm so fucked up, I belong in the trash too” 

“Y/n, stop…” Han was making his way coming to you.

“Shh, don’t!” Hyunjin stopped him, grabbing him by his shoulder “She started, now she finishes it!” 

“Dude, what if she hurt herself?” Both looked at you, butt up in the air, half body almost all in, struggling.

“Ugh, okay. Fine” Hyunjin walked to you and grabbed you by your waist, easily carrying you out.

“Y/n, enough!” His voice was cold as he hissed at you.

“Nooo, let me go. I fucked up, I need to go to the trash” You cried out, trying to escape him.

“Okay” He rolled his eyes and opened his arms, letting you go. 

“Hunf, too bad there isn't a bin for toxic garbage here” He scoffed under his breath after seeing you sit down in front of the paper recycle bin. 

“Y/nnie, what are you doing now?” Han rubbed his temples, stopping by your side.

Han sighed when he saw you hug your knees and noticed the tears running down your face. C'mon, he was tired, it was late, he just wanted to go back home.

“Hyunjin said I'm toxic, I'm not worth even being recycled!” You sobbed, pointing at him.

“Dude, what the fuck, why are you being mean to y/nnie?” Felix turned to his friend, and Hyunjin's smirk suddenly faded, giving room for the tears appearing in the corner of his eyes.

“Oh shit, what am I doing?” He snapped and when you realized, he was sitting by your side.

“Don't get near me, I'm radioactive, I’ll contaminate you with my toxicity!” You nudged him away. 

“Y/N, HYUNJIN!” Felix's deep voice brought you both attention to him.

“Oh Felix” Hyunjin blushed slightly, giggling.

“Enough of this bullshit, the both of you. Stand up, we're leaving now!” Felix didn't need to order twice, you and Hyunjin quickly obliged.

Hyunjin started following Felix and you followed Han, stopping in your tracks when you realized they were heading to the same car. Han held you by your shoulders, preventing you from running and led you to Felix's car.

~ {♡} ~

Felix drove everyone to his place, and he and Han helped the two of you to get inside. 

“Shit, they are still drunk” Felix complained to Jisung, as he sat Hyunjin by your side on the bed, the other hands playing with the pedants from his necklace.

“I told you it wasn't a good idea to let them drink that bottle of soju. Why did you have that in your backseat, anyways?” Han looked at Felix with his eyes widened, Felix having a bottle in his car was really random, just like that whole night. 

“Are you an angel, Yongbok?” Hyunjin twirled his finger in the blonde's necklace, whispering, mesmerized with the shining pendant. 

“Stop it” He pushed Hyunjin's hand away and took a step back “It was a gift, I forgot it was there until y/nnie found it and chugged half of it before Hyunjin could steal it from her” 

Meanwhile you were a crying rambling mess, trying to calculate how you'd survive without a paycheck.

“Ugh, they are annoying me. Maybe we should push them under the shower, to sober them up” Han sighed, he was really tired.

“Hey hey, nobody's gonna take y/n's clothes off” He pushed the boys off and stopped in front of you, his hands pushing your jacket off your shoulders “Only I can do it” 

“Stop it! Only my boyfriend can undress me” You snapped and pushed him to the side.

He lost his balance and fell on the bed, rolling on it, he groaned dramatically as if you hurted him. You watched the scene unfold in slow motion: Hyunjin rolling off the edge, your hand reaching out to prevent him from falling, losely grabbing his hair, the strands slipping through your fingers and him hitting the floor causing a thud that made you jolt.

“Oh no, Jinniee. Are you okay?” You peaked over the mattress worried, holding your hand out for him who accepted it. 

“I'm sorry, I'm sorry. I didn’t mean to hurt you” You drunkenly cried out, helping him get back and lay down. 

Hyunjin murmured something you didn't understand and threw his arms around your neck, swiftly pulling you to him, making you fall.   

“I missed you so much, love” His voice was low and muffled as he had his face buried in your hair, but you heard it loud and clear, your heart jumped. 

“Me too, jagi. Me too” You softly murmured, a hand reaching up and gently caressing his cheek, he purred.

“That’s just like ferrets sleep, you know? I saw it in the Nature Channel” Jisung chuckled to Felix, who picked up his phone and snapped a picture of you sleeping entangled with each other. 

“Although with those biteable cheeks,y/nnie looks more like a quokka” Felix chuckled, he beckoned to Jisung for them to leave the room.

“Nighty nighty, sweet dreams babies” He said cheekly after turning the lights out and then he closed the door. 

~ {♡} ~

It was past noon when you woke up, the rays of light escaping through the curtains annoyed you, so you decided to turn around and then you realized not only you weren’t at your bedroom but also weren’t alone. 

Although his grip on your waist got tighter, Hyunjin was still sound asleep as you turned around facing him. You opened your eyes slowly and sighed looking at him, sleeping so cutely, a strand of his hair fell in front of his face and you gave in the urge to brush it off, fingertips gently caressing him and he sighed.

So cute, doesn't even look like you test my patience 24/7, you thought, still caressing his face. You leaned a little closer, wanting to kiss him, like you used to do before, but then your gaze fell on your hand, the absence of your ring being a hard confirmation that the last few weeks weren’t just a bad dream. 

“You know it’s rude to stare” His hoarse voice made you jolt and you rolled away.

“I wasn’t staring” You scoffed.

“Yeah, right” He chuckled, his eyes still closed as he stirred up like a cat.

You heard knocks on the door and when it opened, Felix appeared covering his eyes.

“Wakey wakey, are you decent?” He said cheekly and you saw Hyunjin's grin when he tossed a pillow at his friend.

Felix grabbed the pillow and threw himself on the bed, between the two of you. 

“I came to say that lunch's ready” 

“Lunch? What time is it?” Your eyes widened and you covered your mouth in surprise.

“It's 1pm” Felix chuckled and leaned forward, disheveling even more your hair “Seems like you had a great night of sleep” He teased.

“Shut up” You used your pillow to hit him.

“My head hurts” Hyunjin complained and Felix touched his forehead.

“Poor baby, c'mon. Let's eat some lunch, you're gonna feel better” He pouted at the brunette.

As a big fan of their bromance, deep down you were loving the private hyunlix session, but you had to stop watching their chat to go to the bathroom. 

Downstairs, Seungmin and Han were finishing settling the table, the delicious aroma of the food made you float towards the dinner table. After enjoying your meal, you offered to wash the dishes, and while you were drying the plates, something small and shining on the counter island caught your attention.

“Is it mine…” Your fingers were just about to touch the ring when Hyunjin covered it with his hand and pulled it to him.

“It's mine now” His smirk didn't meet his eyes as he put the ring on. Felix and Jisung rescued the jewel earlier this morning.

“Yeah, of course” You whispered, looking down, it would be too much audacity of yours to do that whole scene and still want the ring back.

You weren’t even together anymore. 

You weren’t even together anymore,

wow, it's real and official now.

~ {♡} ~ 

Every night after work you grabbed your fluffy blanket, something good to eat and snuggled up on the couch to keep up with C34 like it was Netflix. As if it was a stupid trick of destiny, nothing happened.

Day after day, Chae-hee seemed to be… Lovely, with the girls. 

Hugging them, hyping them up, bringing them water and snacks, that Chae-hee made you wonder if you were overreacting, if what you saw that day was just an isolated event, but what about the other times Na-yeon seemed to be hurt? It couldn’t be a coincidence.

And it wasn't. 

One night, you were smiling, watching Minho and Na-yeon chatting, then he gave her a quick kiss before running out, the girls appeared minutes later. Your smile stayed in your face as you watched them dancing, they were really good.

Their song was catchy and you were dancing on your spot when it happened, Chae-hee pushed Na-yeon down and the girl fell on her butt. You stopped and leaned closer, paying attention you saw Chae-hee was yelling at her, then another member approached and helped Na-yeon get up, you recognized her it was Ha-ri, she said something to Chae-hee and then covered herself with her arms as Chae-hee stepped up ready to smack her.

You clicked a few times and then the video was saved on the cloud. Your gaze went to the calendar, marked with a star was the date of their presentation pre-debut, which meant they would do a pocket show for the big names in the industry, a little warm up before the actual debut, a little something before their names would drop and their faces would be all over the internet. 

~ {♡} ~ 

“Relax, you're gonna do great!” Minho whispered in Na-yeon's ear, he was hugging her when you walked in.

You laughed slightly when he broke away from her, tapping her shoulder.

“Uh, I'm going to meet up with the boys. Keep up, fighting!” You both waved him bye and you turned to face a tomato-like Na-yeon.

“Ohh, special support from the boys? Sounds nice” You said cheekly and Na-yeon waved her hand in a silent plea for you to stop teasing her and you chuckled.

“So, where's the girls?” You leaned against the vanity, absentmindedly playing with the makeup brushes with your fingers.

“They went grab something to eat and will be here soon” Na-yeon sat on the little couch there and you realized her shoulders were trembling slightly.

“Don't be nervous, Na-ye. Everything will work fine, I saw you dancing and you're really good” You smiled at her and she smiled back.

Na-yeon opened her group's chat and saw a picture Chae-hee sent of the boys waiting for their presentation, the older one made a heart around Hyunjin and sent a screenshot of a text where she basically intimated him to come. She sighed, putting her phone down.

“Y/n, can we meet up for a coffee later?” Na-yeon said shyly, fidgeting the hem of her skirt.

“Sure, I would love to! Coffee's on me, let's celebrate your debut” Seeing Na-yeon's shyness, you assumed she finally gathered courage to share what was happening in her group.

Maybe she was finally ready to ask for help? This would be such a sweet surprise to her, you both would celebrate Chae-hee's departure, but you couldn’t tell her that yet.

But Na-yeon didn't plan on talking about the abuse she has been suffering, the reason she invited you was because she thought you were a good person and didn't deserve what Chae-hee did to you and Hyunjin, so she'd tell you what really happened during their time in Australia.

The door opened and you saw the girls entering, giggling and teasing each other, Chae-hee smirked when she saw you.

“Y/n, what a nice surprise. Came to support us?”

“I wouldn’t miss it for anything” Your smile was genuine, you were really eager to watch them on stage.

You checked on your phone, just a few more minutes.

“Well, guess I'm going. See you later girls, fighting!” You stood up and waved for them, Chae-hee was still smirking, she had no idea.

You met the boys at the auditorium, and it would be a lie if you said it didn't hurt when you saw Hyunjin was there. Okay, all of the Stray Kids were there, but still.

“Hey y/nnie, come sit with us!” Chan beckoned at you, Hyunjin acted as if you weren’t even there as you passed him by.

You sat down beside Jeongin, Hyunjin was two chairs away, you avoided looking at him until the lights were out. 

He had the same idea, peeking over to check on you while you weren’t looking.

“Hello, we're LuaX and we are going to show you our first song, please enjoy it” Chae-hee said shyly, it was insane how different and fake she looked on stage.

Their first mv started being played on the big screen, it was good, they went for a domestic style, mostly of the scenes being filmed by them and it seemed to please the audience. 

Everybody clapped when it ended and then another video started, ‘get to meet the girls from LuaX', some claps and whistles could be heard as flashes of clips from each girl appeared, until it all turned into a full black screen and Ha-ri's name appeared blinking, starting her introduction. 

After Ha-ri, it was Na-yeon's turn and then Chae-hee, you shifted on your seat. It started like the others, showing little Chae-hee dancing in a school presentation, more videos of her dancing as she grew up until the screen went black again and stayed like this for a minute. The staff exchanged worried glances, imagining it was a malfunction.

“What are you doing? Fix it!” Chae-hee whispered between gritted teeth to the intern who was in control of the laptop.

As the boy was about to tap on the keyboard, the image appeared again, but instead of the interview with Chae-hee, what appeared on the screen made everybody gasp. 

Footage of Chae-hee abusing not only Na-yeon, but the others too, yelling at them, harshly stumbling on them during their dances making them fall, gripping them by their arms…

“What the fuck is this? Turn this off, now!” She hissed at the intern and he clicked over and over, but nothing happened. 

Desperate, Chae-hee went to him, palms slamming the keyboard, but the images were still up, so she looked around and ran to pull the plug, the last image appearing was her pushing Na-yeon. 

“I… I can explain… I…” The lights were turned on, Chae-hee stared desperately at everyone watching, but something inside her clicked when her gaze met yours, the smirk on your lips telling her all she needed to know.

She stormed away from the stage, the whispers filled the room, Hyunjin noticed you chuckling lightly, he was shocked. Hong-jo went to hug Na-yeon, checking if she was alright and the girl nodded, then she looked at you and you smiled, she understood it right away too.

~ {♡} ~

“I still can't believe you exposed Chae-hee, I could never imagine we were being filmed” Na-yeon blushed slightly, playing with the straw of her caramel latte. 

You softly chuckled because you knew she was wondering if you saw her and Minho too.

“I had to gather proof because it was a serious accusation” You leaned forward, whispering “But don’t worry, I made sure to save only those parts, all the rest was deleted” 

“What happens to us now? Aren’t we going to debut anymore, is LuaX ruined forever?” She asked after thinking for a moment, was her dream ruined?

“No, no. You, Hari and Ji-soo will debut, don’t worry” Na-yeon smiled, relieved.

“You'll just have to work a lot and harder, because there will be need to erase every single trace of Chae-hee” 

“Thank you, for helping me…” Na-yeon smiled shyly “The girls appreciate it too, they just aren’t here because I needed to talk to you in private” 

“Is there anything wrong?” You put your mocha latte down and looked at her with concern.

“It's about you and Hyunjin” She picked her phone and unlocked it, opening the chat app.

“Oh, Na-ye, I'm sorry but I don’t wanna talk about him today” You looked down and Na-yeon touched your hand.

“No, y/n. It’s really important, listen, please” She said softly and then she clicked play on the audio Chae-hee sent to her a couple days ago.

Your stomach twisted as you heard Chae-hee describing what happened after she took Hyunjin upstairs, followed by her plan of adding only you to her close friends, that way nobody could contest her and you'd break up with him. Hyunjin was telling the truth and you didn't believe him.

“That's why he was acting so nonchalant about it…” You murmured to yourself, feeling the tears coming.

“We had a fight and he said nothing happened, and still I didn’t believe him” You covered your face with your hands, crying.

“Oh y/nnie, it's not your fault, I'd fall for her tricks too” Na-yeon tried to calm you down.

“I didn’t believe him and now he doesn't want me anymore, he said I was a waste of his time” You cried and Na-yeon reached out, gently tapping your arm.

“He's ignoring me, he's probably already dating her now” 

“No, no, they aren’t together, I can guarantee you” Na-yeon shook her head.

“Chae-hee's mad af because she wanted to give him another chance after the er… incident, but he keeps turning her down” She whispered and you felt a little relief.

“He still likes you, y/nnie. Minho told me Hyunjin talks about you a lot” She blushed at the mention of Minho, and omitted the part where Hyunjin's talks about you were all complainings, all that mattered was that he was thinking about you, right?

~ {♡} ~

Hyunjin was surprised, he knew Chae-hee was nice to him because she wanted to pull down his boxers, but he didn’t think she was such a bitch. And he still had no idea what she did to him that night, all he remembered was her helping him get to his room and then Felix changing the sheets and taking care of his drunk ass.

Chae-hee leaving was the hot tea on the halls of JYP, no one knew who manipulated the video, but most of the people praised the one who did, saying if they had the chance, they would do the same. Hyunjin would smirk walking down the halls, he knew it was you right away.

So that was that mysterious work thing you didn't want to tell him. He was still hurt because of that, and a lot of other things too, the top on his list was you not believing him, that’s why he has been ignoring you and pretending you didn't exist, and he thought he was doing a great job at it, but the boys wouldn’t agree since he couldn’t stop talking about you. 

The girls from LuaX were super busy recording their songs again and changing choreographies, but the days were much better now, without a trace of Chae-hee. You were relieved to walk around the company and not run into her anymore, not big on believing in energies and stuff, but the vibes definitely felt better without her there.

Speaking of vibes, yours weren’t the best as you finished packing for Japan. You tried for the last time to change it, but it didn't work, so you were here, zipping up your last suitcase. 

You checked everything in the house one last time, all good, then went out to wait for Felix, you'd both head to the airport together, the boys flew the day before and he stayed because he had an event to attend on the date.

Leaning on your back on the wall, waiting outside on the street, you sighed when you realized your headphone ran out of battery. As you were putting it back inside your purse, a familiar voice shouting your name caught your attention.

“Chae-hee?” You blinked as you watched her hard steps towards your direction. How the hell did she know where you lived?

“You bitch, I know it was you who made that video!” Chae-hee kept shouting and pointing at you, she was coming closer now.

“Yeah, it was me. Did you like my editing skills?” You scoffed, crossing your arms in front of your body and grinning at her.

Chae-hee closed her hand into a fist and groaned as she advanced towards you, in a quick move, you grabbed her fist mid air as it was about to hit your face and smirked. 

“Chae-hee… were you going to punch me?” You pouted, grip on her wrist getting tighter as you shook your head feigning disbelief “I thought we were friends? Close friends even” You mocked. 

“Ughh, let me go!” She tried to pull her hand, and you thought for a moment, you weren’t planning on it, but you saw the car parking near you, so you had to, you needed to take the ride.

Unfortunately, that wasn't yours.

“Bitch!” Chae-hee spat, massaging her bruised wrist after you pushed her away, letting go of her hand.

Chae-hee came ready to punch you again, trying to catch you off guard. 

“Bitch, don’t you ever try to lay a finger on me again!” You said through gritted teeth as you grabbed her wrist again and lifted her arm, at the same time in a swift move you used your dominating hand to punch her on cheek. 

A strangled sound came out of Chae-hee's lips and she fell down, she touched her face, it was stinging really bad and red, you took a step and leaned down, grabbing a fistful of her hair and forcing her to look at you. 

“And just so you know, this one was for what you did to Hyunjin. If you wanna keep that pretty face intact, don’t ever get near him again!” You pushed her and she trembled.

“Now get out of here!” You ordered and she crawled backwards a few steps and then awkwardly stood up and ran away.

You sighed, rubbing your temples, the rush of adrenaline slowing down and you were realizing what happened, your hand hurted.

“Y/nnie, are you alright?” You jolted when you turned around and saw Felix walking up to you.

“Lixie, oh my God. For how long were you here?” 

“Long enough” He chuckled and pulled you into a hug. 

“Oh, that’s embarrassing” You said shyly, hiding your face on his chest.

“Don't be, it was good. You learned it really well” He chuckled. 

When you asked Felix to teach you some taekwondo moves, you were just playing around, but in the end turns out it was very useful.

“Thanks to my Sensei” 

“This is for karate, in taekwondo we say Sabomnim” He pinched your cheeks.

“Then thanks Sabomnim!” You said cheekly.

“That's better. Now, let's go, I don’t want you picking more fights on the streets” He disheveled your hair, and you groaned. 

~ {♡} ~

The moment you stepped in Japan, you changed your mind, you were glad you came, as you looked out of the window, you were excited to go out and explore it all, although fitting your list of places to go and things to do was a real challenge with the busy agenda of the boys.

You and Hyunjin? Well… it was complicated.

In the perfect world, you'd run into his arms as soon as you'd step into the hotel, and you'd tell him all about your talk with Na-yeon and later would be at his room showing how sorry you were for not believing in him. Unfortunately, life wasn't a fanfic and he reminded you that when he ignored you as he passed you by.

But as the days went by, something changed, Hyunjin even quickly grinned at you at the Versace store, during the event he participated and if your mind wasn't tricking you, he murmured to the pinkish fluffly plushie he won, that his new additional's name was now ‘y/nnie’. 

When you texted Heyoon about it, she told you not to get your hopes up - too late. You knew she just wanted to protect you from another heartbreak, one more and you could request a song on that TV show where players who score 3 gols get their favorite song played, but what if this time it worked out?

What's the saying? Third time’s a charm? 

Yeah, maybe you could request a song, after all, but a romantic instead of a sad one. 

~ {♡} ~ 

Few things made you so happy as day offs, sleeping until noon, going to eat out, shopping, today was the day. You smiled as you checked your phone, the time marked 12:20 when you woke up, no alarm, no messages, no notifications, just silence and peace, wow, when was the last time you felt that?

You sat down, lazily stirring up and went jumping to the bathroom, thinking about the stuff you had planned for today. Your day was going great, you checked out almost all of your list, you realized as you placed your purchases on your bed, admiring all the shopping bags laying there.

And to end it perfectly, time to relax, you said to yourself as you walked though the hotel heading to the hot tub. Your smile got wider when you saw the sign written Relax & Enjoy, oh you'd definitely would.

Your eyes sparked when you opened the door, unraveling the coziness inside, the room was large, floor and walls made of wooden with two walls made fully of glass, presenting a beautiful view of a garden, the trees offering privacy to the guests that can enjoy the hot tub or just light up some incenses and meditate on the lilac futon, adorned with fluffy cushions, you wondered if it was okay to take a nap there later. 

You lit some lavender incenses, then kneeled  down, pressing some buttons and stood up again, you let the white robe slid down your figure and you stepped into the hot tub, wetting your foot slowly, testing the temperature before lowering your body down in the warm water, sitting down.

Sighing, would be a lie if you said you didn't wish Hyunjin was there with you, thinking about him made you realize, you haven’t seen or heard from him or any of the boys the whole day. 

“Wow, I can even hear my thoughts, nice” You giggled, leaning back and closing your eyes “So peaceful…”

Being so relaxed, you were almost napping right there, but your peace didn't last long. You didn't hear the crack of the door opening or the footsteps walking where you were, until you heard the sound of giggling and the water splashing around.

“Spoke too soon” You rolled your eyes after opening them and seeing Jeongin, Han and Felix sitting down around you. 

“C'mon, don’t act like you weren't missing us” And there he was, sitting down in front of you, that annoying grin playing on his lips. Your heart skipped a beat.

The whole time, you tried and failed to look away from him, and Hyunjin would often chuckle, not because he thought what one of the boys said was funny, but because he could see his effect on you. The struggle was real, and the boys were noticing too, giggling and exchanging looks.

After what felt like hours, the boys decided to leave, their smirks were unnoticed by you as one by one they stood up, waving you goodbye. You looked at Hyunjin and he shook his head, not making a move to leave, great, you thought.

You laid your head back down and closed your eyes, his soft giggle made you feel butterflies. 

“Heard you punched Chae-hee because of me” Hyunjin broke the silence after some time, you weren’t seeing it, but you knew the smirk was there.

“It was…” You started saying, but he interrupted.

“Really hot…” You looked at him as he approached you “Felix showed me the video, that punch was really good, wish I was there to witness in person” 

“Oh c'mon” You covered your face, embarrassed that Felix filmed the whole thing and especially that Hyunjin watched it. 

“Admit it, you've been wanting to do this since you laid your eyes on her” He teased you, closer now.

You giggled, but nodded, your face still covered.

“I knew it” He chuckled, gently pulling your hands down.

“What are you doing?” You whispered as he held your hands and placed them over his shoulders, leaning closer. You wondered if he could hear your heart beating faster.

“Something you're dying for me to do, since the show last night” He said cocky and before you could say anything, his lips pressed against yours.

Hyunjin's hands went to your waist, pulling you close to him as he teased your bottom lip with his tongue, you gave him entrance and wrapped your arms around his neck, he smiled against your lips when he felt you coming up to sit on his lap, a soft sound escaped your lips as his big hands reached your ass, gripping the flesh hard, pulling you even closer, he groaned as it made you grind against him. 

It felt good, he did it again and again, his hands guiding your hips, while his lips left yours to make a trail of kisses on your neck, going straight to the spots he knew you were more sensitive, licking and sucking on the skin. 

The way you moaned so softly, digging your nails on his shoulder, dragging your pussy up and down on his bulge, adjusting yourself, he knew you were about to come soon and if he didn’t do something quick, he would too.

You whined in protest when he held you in place, stopping your moves and it made him chuckle.

“Oh I'm sorry, did I interrupt your fun?” He chuckled teasingly. 

“Jagiya” He chuckled again, finding your annoyance cute, but he wouldn’t tease you further, not today…

Hyunjin moved you, making you straddle his leg, tensing up his thigh, he helped to adjust you and gave your butt another squeeze, before you started grinding on him again.

You leaned forward, kissing his neck, moans muffled against his wet skin as you kept going, his hands roamed all over your body, until they stopped by the strings of your bikini, working quick to untie them, letting the piece float on the water, hands cupping your breasts, thumbs teasing the sensitive buds. Your legs started getting shaky and your moves sloppy, Hyunjin held you by your hips, guiding your moves as he knew by the way your moans were getting louder and your body tensing up, you were about to come. 

And you did, holding tight onto him, burying your face on his shoulder, you gave it a delicate kiss, lips lightly brushing against his skin, nibbling on it as you came down from your high.

“Let’s move to the fuck futon” He whispered in your ear before lightly nibbling your earlobe, making you shiver. 

“It's not a futon for fucking, oh my God” You murmured under your breath, embarrassed and he chuckled.

Hyunjin gently pushed you off him and you stood up, followed by him and both walked to the futon, you couldn’t help but smile as he sprawled out a towel on it, before beckoning for you to lay down. You obliged, and he kneeled in front of you, hands running up your thighs until they reached your bikini bottom, his fingers hooked on the waistband, watching in awe as his hands slowly pulled the fabric down your thighs until it reached your ankles and then it was tossed behind him. 

“So pretty” He whispered and twiched inside his swimtrucks, that grin appearing.

You wasted no time in wrapping your arms around him when he crawled on top of you, slotting between your legs, he kissed you and his hand started exploring your body again, gripping on your waist, your curves, until it slid down to your thigh, he alternated between caressing and squeezing the flesh, the kiss getting deeper as his touch got bolder, fingertips slowly making their way to your inner thigh, until it reached your middle.

Your own hands explored his body too, feeling his muscles up, pulling him closer, your fingers digged on his biceps as he slid his fingers between your folds, then pressed on your clit, starting to rub lazy circles on it. Hyunjin smirked, feeling how wet you were already, and you moaned against his mouth, nibbling his bottom lip as his finger slid inside you. He pumped it a few times before adding a new one, his lips making a trail of wet kisses to your jaw, then your neck and going down.

“Jinnie…” You moaned a little louder, when he found that sweet spot inside you. 

“Here?” His fingers curled up, and his lips attached to your nipple, tongue swirling around the hardening bud, before he started sucking. 

You nodded, a little breathless, your hand went to his hair, fingers carding through his locks and his free hand slid up, fondling your breast, while he sucked on the other. 

“Don't stop…” You pleaded, hips moving against his fingers that were pumping in and out quickly, his lips latching on your other breast, he kept alternating between them. 

Hyunjin withdrew his fingers and started to rub on your clit, he could tell you were about to come again, from the lightly trembling of your body under him, the way you pulled him closer and kept lifting your hips again.

Just one more rub and you'd be gone, he softly chuckled, when you protested as he stoped his moves completely. You groaned in frustation.

“Ah, don’t worry. You're gonna cum…” He brought his coated fingers to your mouth, slowly sliding the digits inside, your eyes locked with his as you licked his fingers clean off your juices. He smirked and stood up. “...but around my cock”

You watched his hands working fast to get rid of his clothing, clenching around nothing as you saw the pinkish tip glistening with precum. He looked at you, biting into his lower lip as he stroked himself a few times before finding his way back between your legs.

He dragged his cock over your slit, hissing as he coated the length with your arousal. Hyunjin stared at you as his tip teased your entrance, and you nodded slightly, he leaned down, capturing your lips as he slid in slowly, opening you up inch by inch. 

Even though he prepared you with his fingers, it still burned as he got in, your nails digging on his back and your eyes closed, Hyunjin caressed your cheek and started peppering kisses all over your face and your lips, distracting you as he pushed up until he bottomed out. 

The kisses kept going, slowly and sweet. He stood still, letting you adjust to him before he started moving, slowly the burning sensation was disappearing.

“Too big, Jinnie…” Your sweet cry made him push deeper, grinning against your lips.

“Shhh, it's alright. You take me so well, baby” He picked up the pace, going faster.

He held your thigh, lifting it up, the new angle letting him reach deeper, yours and his moans filling up the room. Your nails scraped his back and he hissed with the mix of pleasure and pain.

“So fucking tight” He groaned and you instinctively clenched around him “Oh shit” 

Hyunjin leaned in, sucking on your breast again, earning more moans from you as he moved fast, angling his hips to hit that spot that made you see stars as you moved against him, meeting his thrusts.

He made a trail of wet kisses up until he reached your lips, swallowing your moans, you held him tight against you, clenching more around him and pushing him closer to the edge, so his hand reached between you, finding your clit and rubbing circles against the bundle of nerves. Your sweet moans getting louder and more desperate were like music to his ears.

“I love you” The words easily slipped out of your lips when he broke the kiss, it wasn't a reflection of your foggy mind, consumed by the pleasure he was giving to you. You truly meant it. 

“I love you too” His words made your heart fluster, and you pulled him closer again, passionately kissing him. 

“Jinnie… please” You cried out, breaking the kiss. 

“I've got you, doll. You can cum, now” He rubbed faster.

A thing he loved about you, how easily he could make you cum, it was both exciting and endearing for him, every time he felt you were about to, he would slow down his thrusts and his fingers moves, forcing you to last longer, but now that he was almost gone too, he would let you go all the way. 

“Jinnie, oh shit!” Your legs started trembling, followed by your body, your nails dug on him as you came, almost making him come too, from all the clenching so hard around him. 

He kept rubbing your clit as you came down from your high, his thrusts were getting sloppy and his balls tightening. You noticed when Hyunjin started pulling out.

“Don't you dare!” You said through gritted teeth, wrapping your legs tight around his waist, locking him in.

His eyes widened as he looked at you with surprise, damn, he thought that was hot, he quickly picked up the pace again. Hard, fast, deep.

He groaned against your neck and you felt the warm, white ropes of his release filling you up. You embraced him, legs still wrapped around his waist, keeping him close as he still thrusted a few more times, not letting one drop go to waste. 

The moans were replaced by “I love you's” and the sound of breaths hitched, hearts beating rapidly and in sync, you kissed his hair when he collapsed on top of you, lying his head on your chest. 

~ {♡} ~

You were nervous, after the fog of the moment dismissed. You knew you both would have to talk, you still needed to apologise to him, make everything clear, and all, plus there was a not so small train of thoughts creeping in the back of your head, what if it was a spur of the moment thing? What if he would change his mind after he kisses you goodnight and leaves you at your door? What if he would come back to his senses and ignore you the next day?

Luckily, all those worries were pushed away as he pulled you closer against him, his grip tight on your waist as he moaned, burying himself into your tight heat. 

You hated waking up early in the morning, but that day, you couldn’t be happier to be woken by him. Spooning you, his hard on pressed against your butt, lips teasing your neck, lazily licking and sucking on the skin, and hand shoved under your pajama top, cupping your breast, of course.  

“Damn, doll. This pussy's perfect, just made for me” His thrusts were getting sloppy, and you gripped the sheets, his hand rubbing circles against your clit, making you cry out, calling his name as you came for the second time in the morning.

He came shortly after, gripping on your hips and holding you in place as he filled you up, and as you watched him swing off the bed, admiring his cute little butt as he went to the bathroom, to grab a washcloth to clean you both, you couldn’t help but smile. You could get used to this.  

Turns out, your trip to Japan was amazing.

You realized that as you two spent the last day there exploring and enjoying your time together, like you used to imagine it would be. No, it was better, because this time it was real.

Was real in the way his fingers intertwined with yours, as you walked on the streets; in the sweet sound of his giggles when you said something that he found funny; in the way his eyes sparked when something caught his attention; in the warmth of his embrace, as you watched the sunset in a park before heading back to the hotel. 

And it was perfect, as you received a goodnight kiss, and snuggled up against him to sleep again. 

~ {♡} ~

Every fruit produced here's organic, delivered with love from our family to yours. 

A smiling and sweet old lady said to the camera, as she walked in joining a small group of people standing in the field, holding baskets, each one had a variety of fruit. A girl, wearing a denim jumpsuit, with a straw hat to conceal her face and a basket full of apples, stepped forward.

Take care of your health, start the new year in the right way, with Organic Life. 

You didn't need to see the hat being gone by the wind to recognize that voice, but the scene made everyone in the living room laugh, watching her desperate frown for being recognized, a short desperate shot where you could clearly see she was dropping the basket before the ad ended. 

“So, what is it? Chae-hee's an actress now?” Seungmin wondered, switching the tv channel.

“I thought she was banned from the industry, after everything that happened” Chaeryeong

commented, snuggling up against Changbin on the couch.

“And she is!” Na-yeon picked her mug from the coffee table “That's actually her family's farm, she was forced to get back with them because nobody wanted to sign her” She had a smirk as she said that, ever since Na-yeon knew Chae-hee, the older always told her how much she hated the country life, and that she would leave and never look back. 

“Well, she can be the cows’ idol now” Minho shrugged and everyone laughed.

The group was reunited at Han and Minho's place to celebrate the New Year's. It’s been some weeks since you came back from Japan, you were suppose to be used to reality by now, but as you felt Hyunjin suddenly wrap his arms around your waist, hugging you from behind and nuzzling his nose against your neck, you giggled and realized you were still in a daydreaming state. 

He turned you to face him, everyone gathered in the living room, the last presentation of the night ended and now the singers were starting the countdown. 

10, 9, 8… 

The bright and big numbers flashed on the screen. 

7, 6, 5, 4… You wrapped your arms around his neck, both smiling as you leaned closer. 

3, 2, 1… Your lips finally connected, happy New Year! 

Same night, last year, you were at a party that Heyoon dragged you, closing your eyes and making a wish as the clock hit midnight. Now, one year later, your wish came true.

You and Hyunjin were embracing at the balcony, watching the fireworks.

“Give me your hand” Hyunjin grabbed your wrist and you watched intently as he took his - yours - ring off of his finger.

“I believe this belongs with you” He smirked, sliding the band on yours, then he gazed at you “Just stay away from bin's this time around, okay?” 

“Oh wait, wait!” Han stood up and rushed inside, you watched with confusion. 

Jisung came back a minute later, waving a tiny bottle, you identified what it was when he approached you.

“Super glue?” Hyunjin's eyes widened, surprised.

“Just to make sure” Jisung explained, trying to grab your hand but you pulled back.

“Hey!” You protected your hand, eyebrows narrowing at him before turning to Hyunjin, your tone soft as you talked to him “Don't worry, this ring's never leaving again” 

“It better not, although Jisung's idea isn't so bad” He teased you and you slapped his arm. 

Later that night, the subtle sound of clothes begin discarded on the floor, kissing, giggling and whispering were filling your room. 

“Thank you, for the ring and for letting me love you again” You whispered between the kisses you were peppering on his face, the last being on his lips.

“I'm the one who should thank you, for coming back to my life” He smiled so sweetly, gently caressing your cheek with his thumb, before swiftly rolling you both, lying on top of you and capturing your lips again.

Maybe it's right, maybe wishes do come true, if you wish hard enough.

[cruel-seduction]

Night Changes

(Based on a request sent by @moonymeloncholymoney, I accidentally deleted your request but hopefully I remembered your username so here it is. I have tried to come up with something. I hope it's worthy. Feel free to request next time if you have any other scenario. Love you <3)

CONTENT WARNING - Proceed with caution: this story contains excessive fluff, nostalgia, Sirius being his usual dramatic self, James developing a questionable man-crush on Hrithik Roshan, and Peter quietly wondering if everyone’s lost their minds. Oh, and Remus Lupin? He’s here to single-handedly raise your standards for boyfriends. ,and possibly a bit too much snark—don’t say I didn’t warn you.

Summary - Remus Lupin has his own ways of making you feel why exactly you choose him. When You started missing your childhood, he knew exactly what to do.

────୨ৎ────

The library was quiet, the air thick with the familiar scent of old parchment and ink. The glow of candlelight flickered gently across the room, casting soft shadows that danced on the wooden tables. Remus sat across from you, his chair slightly angled as though he couldn’t quite bring himself to fully focus on his book.

His gaze kept flickering up, catching the way your brows furrowed slightly as you stared at the pages before you. You hadn’t turned a single page in nearly ten minutes, and the way you were gripping your quill—so tightly it looked like it might snap—was enough to make him sigh softly.

“Alright, that’s it,” he said, closing his book with a decisive thud. The sound made you jump slightly, your eyes darting up to meet his. “What’s going on?”

“What do you mean?” you asked, tilting your head just enough to seem casual. But the way your eyes shifted away from his gave you away entirely.

“You’ve been quiet lately,” he said gently, leaning forward so that his forearms rested on the table. His voice was soft, his concern evident in every syllable. “Sad, even. And before you say you’re fine—”

“I am fine,” you interrupted quickly, plastering a smile on your face that didn’t quite reach your eyes.

Remus stared at you for a moment, his honey-brown eyes scanning your face as though searching for the crack in your facade. He let out a soft hum, leaning back in his chair and crossing his arms.

“Alright,” he said simply, though his tone was far from convinced. “If you’re fine, then I suppose that’s the end of it.”

You nodded, relieved that he wasn’t pushing further. But the way his gaze lingered on you, thoughtful and almost calculating, sent a small pang of guilt through your chest.

────୨ৎ────

Two days later, the guilt had turned into something heavier. Remus wasn’t one to pry unnecessarily, but his worry for you was becoming more evident. The way he’d gently squeeze your hand when passing in the halls, the soft but concerned “Are you alright, love?” he’d murmur when you seemed particularly distant.

You wanted to tell him you were fine. You wanted to be fine.

But that evening, as the two of you sat together in his dorm, the familiar warmth of the fire casting a golden glow across his features, Remus finally pressed again.

“Alright, sweetheart,” he murmured, his voice breaking the comfortable silence that had settled between you. “We’re not doing this anymore.”

You blinked, glancing up from where you’d been idly fiddling with the hem of your jumper. “Doing what?”

“This,” he said softly, gesturing toward you. “You pretend you’re alright when you’re not. I know you, baby. And I know something’s been eating at you.”

You opened your mouth to protest, but before you could speak, Remus leaned forward, cupping your face gently with one hand. His thumb brushed against your cheek as his lips pressed softly to your forehead.

“I know you’re not, baby,” he whispered, his breath warm against your skin. “So please, tell me what’s wrong.”

The tenderness in his voice unraveled you. The walls you’d been so carefully holding up crumbled, and before you knew it, the words were spilling out.

“I miss my family,” you admitted, your voice shaky. You hesitated, glancing away as tears pricked at the corners of your eyes. But Remus’s hand on your cheek kept you grounded, his thumb tracing soothing circles against your skin.

“I miss… my cousins, my siblings. We used to live together—a big, noisy, chaotic house. We’d stay up all night watching movies, all four of us crammed into the smallest room because it felt cozier that way. There’d be snacks everywhere, arguments over who got the biggest share, and ridiculous fights about which movie to watch next.”

You let out a soft, tearful laugh, the memories vivid in your mind. “It was always so silly, but it was ours. And now… one of them is getting married. It feels like everything’s changing so fast. We grew up too quickly, you know? I just… I just want to go back. Back to when I was that little six-year-old with pigtails, running around the house with my cousins, no worries, no responsibilities. Just… us.”

Your voice broke slightly, and you felt a tear escape, sliding down your cheek. You quickly swiped at it, forcing a smile even as more tears threatened to fall.

“I’m sorry for being like this,” you said, your voice barely above a whisper. “For… I don’t know. Being stuck in the past, I guess.”

Remus’s hand shifted, both of them now holding your face as he leaned forward, his gaze steady and filled with so much love it made your chest ache.

“Stop that,” he said firmly, though his tone was still impossibly gentle. “You have nothing to apologize for. Missing the people you love? Wishing you could hold onto those moments a little longer? That’s not silly—it’s beautiful. It just shows how much you care.”

He leaned in, pressing another kiss to your forehead, lingering for a moment before pulling back slightly.

“And for the record,” he said, a lopsided grin tugging at his lips, “if you ever want to relive the chaos of fighting over snacks and watching movies, I am more than willing to argue with you over popcorn. And more than willing to make everything go away from your mind. You know what I mean” He smirks and raises his eyebrows. 

You let out a watery laugh, the sound bubbling up from somewhere deep in your chest. “You’re ridiculous.”

“And you love it,” he shot back with a wink, earning another laugh from you.

The warmth of his words, his presence, and the sheer sincerity in his eyes melted away the ache that had been weighing on you for days. You felt lighter, like a piece of your heart had finally found its way home.

As you rested your head against his chest, his arms wrapping securely around you, you couldn’t help but smile.

And in that moment, Remus knew exactly what to do.

────୨ৎ────

The week that followed felt like a blur of passing days and stolen glances. You and Remus barely crossed paths, caught in the whirlpool of schoolwork, house duties, and, in his case, whatever the Marauders were plotting. You’d see him occasionally in the Great Hall, his head bent low as James leaned in to whisper something conspiratorial, both of them bursting into laughter moments later. You two used to sit together but you thought maybe he needs some time so you sit with your group. 

At first, it didn’t bother you. Remus could be consumed by his friends and their antics now and then—that was just part of who he was, and you adored that about him. But as the days stretched into a week, a small pit of unease settled in your stomach. He hadn’t even paused to sit with you under the usual tree in the courtyard, where the two of you would talk about everything and nothing while the hours melted away.

Still, you shrugged it off, convincing yourself that the Marauders were probably up to their usual mischief. Maybe planning an elaborate prank that required all hands on deck. You tried not to take it personally, even though a part of you missed the quiet comfort of his company.

The afternoon sun filtered through the canopy of leaves above you, casting soft dappled light over the page of the book in your lap. You were perched against your favorite tree on the edge of the courtyard, the rough bark pressing lightly against your back. The air was warm, carrying the faint scent of freshly cut grass, and a gentle breeze ruffled the hem of your robes.

You had just turned a page in your book when you heard the unmistakable sound of hurried footsteps on the stone pathway. You looked up, your brow furrowing as Peter Pettigrew skidded to a stop a few feet in front of you, his round face flushed and slightly out of breath.

“Hey!” he panted, doubling over with his hands on his knees for a moment before straightening up.

“Peter?” you said, blinking at him. “What’s going on?”

Peter fumbled with something in his hands, and you realized it was an invisibility cloak. He thrust it toward you without preamble, the fabric spilling over his arms like liquid silver.

“Remus wants to see you,” he said quickly, glancing around as if checking for eavesdroppers.

Your heart skipped a beat at his words, a mixture of relief and curiosity flooding through you. “Oh, okay. When?”

“Tonight,” Peter replied, his tone clipped and hurried. “In his dorm.”

“Wait, what—” you started, standing up and brushing bits of grass off your robes. “Why couldn’t he just tell me himself? And why the cloak?”

But before you could get another word out, Peter had already turned on his heel. “Just—just go, alright?” he called over his shoulder, already jogging away toward the castle.

“Peter, wait!” you called after him, but he didn’t stop.

You stood there for a moment, the invisibility cloak draped over your arms and a puzzled frown on your face. The whole interaction felt... odd. Remus wasn’t the type to send messages through someone else. If he wanted to see you, he usually found you himself, his calm and steady presence impossible to ignore.

Still, the thought of seeing him after a week apart made your chest flutter with anticipation. Shaking your head to clear your doubts, you sat back down, folding the cloak neatly and placing it beside you.

You glanced down at your book, the words blurring together as your thoughts drifted to the evening ahead. What could he want to talk about? Was something wrong? Or maybe this was just his way of making up for the week of silence.

A soft smile tugged at your lips as you closed the book, tucking it under your arm. Focus, you told yourself. If Remus wanted to make a big deal of this, then the least you could do was meet the occasion.

Your mind wandered to your wardrobe, mentally sifting through options. Something casual, but not too casual—after all, this was Remus. Maybe the soft sweater he always said looked nice on you, paired with—

You shook your head again, laughing softly at yourself. “It’s just Remus,” you murmured under your breath, though the way your heart raced at the thought of him made you think otherwise.

The biting chill of the winter night crept into the castle, its icy fingers weaving through the drafty corridors and sneaking under doors. It was the kind of cold that seeped into your bones, no matter how many layers you wore. You’d bundled up as best you could—an oversized hoodie that practically swallowed you whole, paired with your fluffiest pajama bottoms, patterned with tiny stars that shimmered faintly in the low light of your dorm.

A woolen cap covered your head, its edges tugged down snugly over your ears to stave off the cold. You wrapped your favorite muffler around your neck, the soft fabric brushing against your nose, which, predictably, had started running again. Winters always did this to you—your nose would run, your cheeks would flush, and the occasional sneeze would sneak up on you at the worst times.

You sniffled, frowning slightly as you pulled the invisibility cloak over your head. The fabric settled around you like water, rendering you invisible to the world. It felt strange, sneaking out of your room like this, but the note of urgency in Peter’s earlier message had left you little choice.

You crept through the dormitory with practiced ease, careful to avoid the creaky floorboards that always threatened to give you away. The common room was empty, save for the dying embers in the fireplace casting a faint, flickering glow across the room. The cloak swirled around you as you moved, the silence of the castle amplifying the soft sound of your footsteps against the cold stone floor.

The chill grew sharper as you climbed the stairs to the Marauders’ shared room, your muffler pulled up to cover your nose. You paused outside their door, hesitating for a moment as your breath fogged the air in front of you.

Knocking softly, you waited, half expecting to hear Sirius’s teasing voice or James’s overly enthusiastic greeting. But the door remained stubbornly closed, the silence on the other side thick and unyielding.

You knocked again, a little louder this time, but still nothing. Your brows furrowed as you shifted on your feet, the weight of the cloak suddenly feeling heavier.

“Okay, then,” you muttered under your breath, your fingers curling around the cold metal handle. With a quiet click, you pushed the door open.

The sight that greeted you stopped you in your tracks.

The usually chaotic room had been transformed into something entirely unexpected. A bed near the far corner of the room was covered in a soft blanket of fairy lights, their warm glow casting an ethereal shimmer over the dark wood. The lights weren’t just draped haphazardly—they were carefully arranged, framing the bed like a halo and weaving through the posts in delicate loops.

Scattered across the blanket were a few small cushions in mismatched colors, as though someone had raided the common room for every cozy pillow they could find. A small tray sat at the foot of the bed, holding what looked like steaming mugs of hot cocoa, the faint scent of chocolate wafting through the air and mingling with the faint hint of pine that lingered in the room.

But what struck you most was the sight of the Marauders themselves. All four of them stood near the bed, their expressions a mix of nervous anticipation and barely contained excitement. Sirius was the first to notice you, his face lighting up with that unmistakable mischievous grin as he elbowed James in the ribs.

“Look who’s here,” Sirius drawled, his voice dripping with exaggerated nonchalance.

James turned toward you with a wide smile, his arms crossed as though he were trying to play it cool. “Took you long enough,” he teased, though the glint in his eyes betrayed his amusement.

Peter waved awkwardly, his round face flushed with what looked like a mixture of pride and embarrassment. And then there was Remus, standing slightly off to the side, his hands tucked into the pockets of his jumper. His gaze was steady, his warm eyes locking onto yours the moment you stepped inside.

You tore your gaze away from them for a moment, your eyes landing on the centerpiece of the room—a muggle laptop perched precariously on a makeshift stand made of stacked textbooks. The screen was frozen on a scene from a movie you’d recognize anywhere, no matter how many years passed.

Kabhi Khushi Kabhi Gham.

Your stomach flipped at the sight, your heart caught somewhere between nostalgia and confusion. It was a movie you’d seen more times than you could count, a staple of your childhood that you’d practically memorized. But seeing it here, in the middle of the Marauders’ dorm room, surrounded by fairy lights and cocoa and the faces of your friends, felt... surreal.

You looked back at Remus, your brows furrowing slightly as you tilted your head in question. “What...?” you began, your voice trailing off as a soft smile tugged at the corners of his lips.

But he didn’t answer, not yet. Instead, he took a step closer, his expression calm and steady as the others watched silently, a knowing spark in their eyes.

And though the question lingered on your lips, you felt the flicker of something warm settle in your chest.

────୨ৎ────

Remus stepped forward, the soft glow of the fairy lights casting golden highlights across his sharp cheekbones and kind eyes. His gaze never wavered as he closed the small distance between you, the familiar warmth of his presence enveloping you like a favorite blanket

Slowly, his hand came up to cup your cheek, his fingers warm against your slightly chilled skin. His thumb brushed over your cheekbone in a tender, absentminded motion, and you saw the faintest flicker of nerves in his expression—like he wasn’t sure if this was enough, if this would ever be enough to convey how much he cared.

“You missed these moments,” he began softly, his voice barely louder than a whisper. The sincerity in his tone made your heart clench. “So I tried to bring those moments to you. I know it’s not perfect. It’s probably not even close to what you wanted, but...” He paused, the corners of his mouth twitching in a faint, almost shy smile. “Even if it makes you feel nice for just a second, I’ll feel blessed.”

You felt the familiar sting of tears welling up in your eyes, but this time, they weren’t born of sadness. Happiness and love bubbled up inside you, threatening to spill over as you stared at the boy who always seemed to know exactly what you needed, even when you couldn’t say it yourself.

Without thinking, you leaned in, pressing your lips to his in a kiss that was equal parts gratitude and affection. His hand slid from your cheek to the back of your neck, holding you gently as though he was afraid you’d slip away.

The sound of exaggerated gagging shattered the moment, and you broke apart just in time to see Sirius dramatically clutching his chest. “Oh, Merlin, they’re doing that again,” he groaned, his voice dripping with mock horror. He pointed a finger at you, And naked his head “One night. One night I want without seeing you two snog. One night. Give me a break.”

You rolled your eyes, though you couldn’t help the laughter that bubbled up as you glanced back at Remus. His lips were quirked into a wry smile, his hand still resting lightly on your arm.

“Should we stop?” you asked, your voice teasing.

“Definitely not,” Remus replied without hesitation, earning another groan from Sirius.

Eventually, the two of you pulled away and joined the others on the bed, settling into the cozy pile of blankets and cushions. The muggle laptop still displayed the paused frame of Kabhi Khushi Kabhie Gham, and you felt a warm pang of nostalgia as you looked at it.

“We charmed it,” James explained, patting the laptop proudly. “It’ll play in Hindi for you and in English for us. You know, so we can all follow along.”

“That’s... actually brilliant,” you admitted, a little surprised.

“Thank you,” James said, puffing out his chest. “I am a genius.”

Remus snorted. “You didn’t do the charm, James. I did.”

“Well, I supervised,” James shot back, grinning.

As the movie began to play, you quickly found yourself lost in its familiar rhythms. The opening scenes felt like slipping into a favorite memory, and despite the occasional interruptions from the boys, you couldn’t stop smiling.

“Wait, wait,” James interrupted during one scene, leaning forward with wide eyes. “Who’s this guy? The one with the... the abs?”

You stifled a laugh. “That’s Hrithik Roshan,” you said, the name rolling off your tongue like second nature.

James whistled low, nudging Sirius. “Look at that guy! I mean, come on. Those arms are unreal.”

“Oh, please,” Sirius scoffed, tossing a pillow in James’s direction. “I could pull that off if I wanted to.”

“Sure you could,” you teased, raising an eyebrow at him. “But Hrithik Roshan isn’t just about the abs, you know. He’s got moves.”

You laughed, the sound bubbling out of you unbidden. “He is ridiculously handsome,” you admitted, and immediately regretted it when three heads turned to look at you in mock scandal.

“Wait, wait,” Sirius said, holding up a hand. “You’re saying you had a crush on him? And you never told us?”

“Not just Hrithik,” you added, a mischievous glint in your eye. “Shah Rukh Khan too. I mean he is just too much, His dimples are also very cute. I had a crush on him since I was 10 or 11 years old.”

Remus’s jaw dropped in exaggerated offense, and he clutched his chest as though you’d physically wounded him. “You mean to tell me I have competition?”

“Oh, loads of it,” you teased, grinning at him. “Better step up your game, Lupin.”

The others roared with laughter, Sirius wiping a fake tear from his eye. “Don’t worry, Moony,” he said, slapping Remus on the back. “You’ve got something those blokes never will—an unhealthy obsession with books and chocolate.”

Remus rolled his eyes, but you could see the corner of his mouth twitching as he fought back a smile.

The rest of the movie was filled with moments like that—Sirius and James bombarding you with dumb questions about the plot, Peter’s wide-eyed fascination with the lavish sets, and Remus quietly pointing out every little detail he noticed, his whispered observations making you smile even more.

When the emotional scenes played, you caught Remus sneaking glances at you, his hand brushing against yours under the blanket. And when the iconic songs began, Sirius couldn’t resist attempting to mimic the choreography, earning loud protests from James about blocking the screen.

By the time the credits rolled, your cheeks hurt from smiling so much, and the room was filled with the warm hum of shared laughter.

And as you leaned back against Remus’s chest, his arms wrapping snugly around you, you couldn’t help but think that this—this messy, chaotic, and utterly perfect night—was exactly what you needed.

[sadnymi]

「 ✦ One of your girls .✦ 」

[Theodore Nott x reader]

Summary: Theodore Nott was the love of my life, the one I'd trade my whole world for. But this summer, I yearned for a different role in his life, even if it meant becoming just one of his girls

Warning:fluff,angst,smut, oral (f!received), fingering, lying about virginity,(+18)

Words:8k

In this world of labels there are , "good boys" and "bad boys," Theodore Nott existed in a category all his own. like devil in disguise, but manlier. And definitely hotter by like a thousand degrees .

As I stood there, captivated by his interaction with a Gryffindor girl, two stark realizations crashed over me. First, I desperately needed to refine my Marauder mischief skills. And More importantly, I needed to bridge the chasm between myself and Theodore. This summer, I wouldn't just be his little sister's best friend; I craved a different role in his life.

Lana's voice, sharp and cutting through my reverie, jolted me back to reality. "Y/N, are you with me?"

"Forgive me, my thoughts wandered," I muttered, composing myself with practiced neutrality.

“I was just saying, I really want Dad to approve this environmental camp," she continued, her enthusiasm undeterred.

"Absolutely," I agreed, forcing a smile. "Those Larus birds undeniably deserve all the protection we can offer." However, my gaze remained tethered to Theodore and his seemingly animated conversation with the Gryffindor girl.

"Right?" Lana beamed. "Perhaps Theo or Christian could help us sway Father?" Lana suggested hopefully.

"An excellent suggestion," I managed, a barbed comment forming on my tongue.

Perhaps your brother would engage in more productive activities than fraternizing with the Gryffindor girl. But I swallowed the retort.

"Christian can be a bit overprotective, bless his heart," Lana began, "but I do believe the 'puppy-dog eyes' technique, as he calls it, might work on Theo," Lana mused cheerfully.believe

A pang of curiosity shot through me. Could this "puppy eyes" technique be effective on Theo as well? I stifled the urge to inquire.

As if sensing my scrutiny, I almost choked on a gasp when he turned, our eyes locking for a beat too long. Then, as if a switch had been flipped, he resumed his conversation with the Gryffindor girl. My mind conjured elaborate – and disturbing – daydreams of her demise.

"Are you alright?" Lana's voice held a hint of worry.

"Perfect," I muttered, the word a lie heavy on my tongue. My heart hammered against my ribs, a frantic drumbeat against the backdrop of my escalating jealousy.

"Then let's proceed," she declared, taking my hand in hers.

The world became a blur as we walked, the proximity to Theo and his unwelcome companion amplifying my agitation. My pulse pounded in my ears, a relentless drumbeat against the backdrop of muted classroom sounds.

Finally, we passed them. Still, Theo's gaze lingered on me, a silent connection that sent a wave of heat through my body. Just as abruptly, , Then in a move that stole the breath from my lungs, the Gryffindor girl cupped Theodore's jaw, pulling him down for a rough, aggressive kiss. I averted my eyes, a wave of nausea washing over me.

“ EWWW “ Lana muttered, mirroring my own disgust.

“Perhaps," I ventured, my voice tight with unspoken emotions, "you should utilize those puppy dog eyes sooner before he gets distracted again “

Potions became a blurry mess of bubbling cauldrons and swirling fumes. Snape's usual scathing commentary faded into the background, as my mind replayed the scene on loop: Theo, his lips locked with the Gryffindor girl, a stranger who somehow managed to snag his attention. Her triumphant smirk as she pulled away felt branded onto my eyelids.

Jealousy gnawed at me like a rogue Flobberworm. Every stolen glance his way felt like a betrayal, a secret message only I could decipher. Was this what Lana meant by "puppy eyes"? Because right now, all I wanted to do was unleash my inner dragon and set the damn girl ablaze.

The Great Hall echoed with the boisterous chatter of lunchtime. As I joined my friends at the Slytherin table, a familiar warmth washed over me – camaraderie, yes, but something more potent simmered beneath the surface. My stolen glance at Theo, however, sent a jolt of conflicting emotions. He was already there, his dark eyes locked on mine for a lingering moment before he averted his gaze.

A playful tug on my braid brought me back to reality. Lana, a mischievous glint in her eyes, was trying to get me out of my misery that she can’t quite understand what gets me into

Mattheo, being his usual blunt self, decided to stir up some trouble, "Just want to make sure the rumors are true. Did our little Y/N break Cedric Diggory's heart?"he said, causing Theo's gaze to intensify on me, igniting a mix of excitement and nervousness within me.

"Sorry, what?" I stammered, my voice barely above a whisper.

"It's okay, y/n, we can see that you're at that age for those kinds of things. What puberty did to you can't go unnoticed,"

My cheeks burned a furious red. The air crackled with tension as Blaise's words hung in the air.

Before I could retort, a cold fury replaced Theo's usual nonchalance. "Shut the hell up, Zabini, before I make you."

His sharp tone silenced the table. I stole a glance at him, he looked relaxed despite his tone , his eyes locked in a silent battle with Blaise. And that was well- very awkward

Matteo, unfazed by Theo's outburst, pressed on. "Back to the broken heart thing, did you really ditch a date with Diggory?"

My cheeks burned under the scrutiny of the table. "It wasn't like that, he understood," I stammered, desperately trying to salvage the situation. "I just said I had to study."

Lana, oblivious to my boiling frustration, jumped in. "No, no, she's just being humble! Cedric was head over heels! He was moping around for days after she said no, his heart practically shattered. Still he can't seem to take his eyes off her today."

I shot her a glare that could curdle milk, but she just winked back, clearly enjoying the drama.

"Why'd you turn him down, then?" Blaise pressed, his amusement evident.

Theo, however, surprised everyone. "She's still too young for that," he muttered. Really? The audacity! My hand twitched, a silent promise of violence aimed at his handsome but infuriating face.

My temper flared. "First of all," I stated, fixing him with a hard stare, "I'm only a year younger than you. Second, I said no because it wouldn't be fair to either of us. I already have feelings for someone else."

A collective gasp rippled through the group.

"You never told me that!" Lana exclaimed, her eyes wide with surprise.

"No," I said, trying to project a confidence I didn't entirely feel. My gaze locked with Theo's, daring him to look away. "I was planning on telling you… tonight."

"Who is this mystery man?" Matteo leaned forward, his tone laced with curiosity. "Do we know him?"

"No, you don't," I lied smoothly, a flicker of defiance sparking in my chest. "He graduated."

A wave of disappointment washed over Blaise's face. "Oooh, Y/N, you sneaky minx! Who knew you had that in you?"

The Hogwarts Express rumbled to a halt, signaling the end of the semester and the glorious (or dreaded, depending on who you asked) freedom of summer. Bidding farewell to Lana, whose eyes held a knowing glint that made me sweat, I trudged off the train, eager to reach the familiar comfort of my own home.

Living just two houses away from Theo and Lana meant constant proximity, which could be either a blessing or a curse depending on how things unfolded. The lie about a mysterious older boyfriend sat heavy in my stomach. It was a desperate attempt to buy myself some breathing room, a chance to navigate the confusing maze of emotions swirling within me.

The oppressive heat of summer hung heavy in the air, mirroring the nervous knot in my stomach. Lana's father had finally approved the conservation camp, and while I was happy for her, a pang of disappointment shot through me. That meant less time to figure things out with Theo.

Taking a deep breath I slipped into a summer dress – the kind that hugged my curves perfectly and left a trail of cool air on my skin.

Taking a deep breath, I crossed the two houses separating our homes and knocked on Theo's door. My heart hammered a frantic rhythm against my ribs. What was I even doing here?

The door creaked open, revealing Mrs. Finch, the Nott family housekeeper, her face etched with surprise. "Miss Y/N? What a surprise! Mr. Theo is the only one home, I'm afraid. Miss Lana's still out."

My cheeks flushed crimson. This was not the grand entrance I'd envisioned. "Oh!" I feigned surprise. "Goodness, how forgetful of me. I just realized I left something in Lana's room. Terribly sorry to bother you, Mrs. Finch."

The housekeeper's expression softened. "No trouble at all, dear. Just head on up, third door on the right."

With a mumbled thank you, I practically sprinted up the stairs, my heart thundering in my chest. This impulsive, poorly-planned visit was already spiraling out of control. Would he see through my flimsy excuse? Most importantly, what was I going to say to him once I was alone with him under the guise of borrowing something from Lana?

The familiar chaos of Lana's room swam before my eyes. Clothes littered the floor, forgotten textbooks sat precariously on the desk,I don’t know why she insisted that no one else but her clean her room when she barley do it

"Are you lost?"

The sound of Theo's voice cut through the mental fog. I spun around, heart hammering against my ribs like a frantic hummingbird. He stood in the doorway, leaning against the frame, his gaze lingering on me a beat too long.

And then, his eyes scanned me from head to toe, a slow, deliberate sweep that sent a jolt of heat straight to my core. Merlin's beard, I wanted to be on my knees (respectfully, of course). That summer dress, the impulsive visit - everything suddenly felt like a terrible, wonderful mistake.

"N-no," I stammered, my voice barely above a whisper. "I, uh, just came to… borrow something from Lana." The lie tasted like ashes in my mouth, but I couldn't bring myself to confess my real motive. Not yet, anyway.

Theo pushed himself off the doorframe, taking a slow step closer. The air crackled with a tension that had nothing to do with the summer heat. "Is that right?" he drawled, his voice a low rumble that sent shivers down my spine. His eye held an unreadable depth that made my breath hitch.

"Yes," I managed, forcing myself to meet his gaze. "She mentioned a book on… Larus migration patterns? I thought I might borrow it for some summer reading."

He raised an eyebrow, a hint of amusement playing on his lips. "Larus migration patterns, huh? Sounds like a fascinating read for a summer day."

His words were laced with a double meaning, and a blush crept up my cheeks. Was he teasing me? Did he suspect my real reason for being here?

The silence stretched, thick and heavy. My carefully constructed plan was falling apart faster than a poorly brewed Amortentia potion. But before I could stammer out another excuse, Theo surprised me with a soft chuckle.

"Well," he drawled, his voice softer now, "since Lana's not here, perhaps I could help you find the book."

The breath caught in my throat. Here I was, caught red-handed (or rather, red-dressed), and yet, Theo's amusement was oddly disarming. His casual demeanor didn't quite match the intensity I'd glimpsed in his eyes moments ago.

"Really?" I squeaked, my voice barely above a whisper. The air crackled between us, charged with a sudden shift in energy.

A slow smirk played on his lips. "Yeah, why not? Did you want someone else to help you, maybe?"

He took a slow step forward, his presence filling the room. I instinctively leaned back, my back hitting the wall with a soft thud. A thrill shot through me as his eyes lingered on my face, a storm brewing beneath the surface.

"He's not here, though," he drawled, the amusement leaving his voice. "So bad."

Confusion clouded my mind. "He?" I stammered.

Theo's brows furrowed. "Oh, your older, hot crush? That's what you said, right? So you're here all dressed up and making excuses for nothing." The smile that had been playing on his lips vanished completely.

A wave of panic washed over me. "Are you kidding me?" I blurted out, unable to contain my frustration. Heat crept up my cheeks. "Are you that blind?" just then I realized the depth of my mistake. He thought my crush was Christopher, his own brother!

He was close now, so close I could feel the warmth radiating from his body. His hands braced themselves on either side of my face, caging me in. My breath caught in my throat.

"Trapped?" he murmured, his voice a low growl.

If looks could kill, I would have been dead. Theo's expression was a mix of anger, hurt, and confusion. I reached out hesitantly, my fingers brushing against his cheek. Thankfully, he didn't pull away.

"It's not Christopher," I whispered, my eyes darted drawn to the tempting curve of his lips.

"Oh yeah?" he challenged, his voice husky.

I couldn't hold back any longer. This was it. With a surge of desperation, I cupped his face with one hand, the other finding its way to the back of his neck and I kissed him.

It was a moment of pure, unadulterated passion. I was kissing Theo it wasn’t a dream , feeling the heat and intensity of the moment wash over me. My lips on his, our breaths mingling, it was my first kiss, but that fact faded into insignificance. He was the only thing that mattered.

Panic briefly gripped me when he didn't immediately respond to the kiss. I pulled away, searching his eyes for any sign of reciprocation, my heart pounding in my chest.

"Fuck," he muttered, pulling me closer, lifting me effortlessly until my legs were wrapped around his waist. His kiss this time was harder, more urgent, our bodies pressed against the wall as he devoured my lips.

It was a hungry kiss, filled with raw desire and longing. I moaned into his mouth, unable to contain the pleasure that surged through me. As his tongue sought entry, I responded eagerly, my hand finding its way to his shoulder, the other tangling in his hair. It felt intoxicatingly good, every touch sending sparks of pleasure coursing through me.

He didn't stop, his kisses growing more intense, more mind-blowing with each passing second. I felt myself teetering on the edge of something powerful, something I had never experienced before.

When he finally pulled away, our lips still touching, he whispered, "We shouldn't do that." I leaned in, wanting more, desperate to recapture the fire he had ignited within me. But this time, he stopped me with a gentle hand on my cheek.

"We shouldn't," he repeated, his words laced with a battle between desire and control.

" You ... don’t want this?" I asked, desperation creeping into my voice.

"Fucking hell," he muttered, before claiming my lips once more in a kiss that left me breathless and wanting more.

He kept kissing me, then his lips dipped lower, trailing a path of fire down my neck. Each touch ignited a new spark within me, a desperate need for more. But just as quickly, he pulled away, his hand clamping over my mouth the moment a moan escaped my lips.

He released me with a ragged breath, fingers brushing my lips – a touch that felt both accidental and deliberate. "Don't fucking let me do that again," he growled, his expression unreadable.

"Theo..." My voice trembled, a choked whisper lost in the deafening silence.

"Don't," he cut me off, his voice laced with a raw emotion that sent shivers down my spine.

I ignored him, the dam of my emotions threatening to burst. "No, Theo, I do like you so much! No, I think I love–"

He slammed his hand down on the nearest surface, the sharp crack echoing through the room. "Stop talking! Stop fucking talking and get out!"

My heart plummeted to my stomach. I stared at him, disbelief etching lines on my face. This couldn't be happening. This wasn't the answer I'd envisioned.

"I said, get out!" he roared, his voice raw with something akin to despair.

My body reacted before my mind could catch up. Fear, a primal and cold sensation, gripped me. I couldn't stay there, not with that look in his eyes. Tears blurring my vision, I turned and fled. I ran blindly out of the room, my feet pounding against the wooden floorboards. I didn't stop until I was out of the house, gasping for breath on the front porch steps. My legs felt like jelly, my vision obscured by a torrent of tears.

After four days of crying in my room, watching romcoms, and indulging in ice cream, I had practically shut myself off from the outside world. Ignoring calls and messages, I had no intention of leaving my room anytime soon.

But then, my phone started ringing, and the name that flashed on the screen caught my attention – Blaise Zabini. Why was he calling me? I debated whether to answer or not, but curiosity got the better of me.

"Hello?" I answered tentatively.

"Hello, beautiful lady. What are you doing tonight?" Blaise's smooth voice flowed through the phone, surprising me.

"Did you mistake my number for someone else?" I asked, slightly bewildered.

Blaise chuckled. "No, Y/N, I'm calling you. There's a party tonight, and you should come."

I couldn't believe it. Blaise inviting me to a party? It seemed surreal, especially considering how distant I had been lately. "Is this some kind of dare?" I half-jokingly asked, recalling how Lana and I had once begged to be included in their circle last year.

"No, of course not. Lana is away at camp, and I figured you must be bored. Plus, you're old enough now. So, are you coming?" Blaise explained.

I was shocked but managed to say, "Yes."

"Good, I'll pick you up," he said confidently.

"Um, what should I wear?" I asked, feeling a bit out of my depth.

"Something hot for sure," Blaise replied, causing my mouth to drop open. Surely, there must be more to it than just small talk and an unexpected invitation.

I dragged myself out of bed, feeling a bit more alive than I had in days. The prospect of going out, even to a party, was both daunting and oddly exciting. I made my way to the bathroom, deciding that a hot shower would do wonders for my mood.

The water cascaded down my skin, washing away some of the heaviness that had settled over me. I washed my hair, taking extra care to make it look presentable. After all, Blaise had mentioned something about looking hot, and I wanted to at least make an effort.

Once out of the shower, I wrapped myself in a fluffy towel and stood in front of the mirror, contemplating my options. My wardrobe seemed to mock me with its array of dresses, each one a reminder of happier times. But tonight was different. I wanted to feel good, even if just for a few hours.

My eyes settled on a vibrant off-shoulder red dress, short enough to be playful yet elegant. It had been a while since I'd worn something so bold, but tonight felt like the perfect occasion. Slipping into the dress, I couldn't help but admire how it hugged my curves in all the right places.

With my hair styled in loose waves cascading down my shoulders, I turned to my makeup. Opting for a subtle smokey eye and a bold red lip to match the dress, I added a touch of highlighter to give my skin a healthy glow.

Just as I finished applying the last stroke of mascara, my phone rang again. It was Blaise, letting me know that he was waiting outside. Taking a deep breath, I grabbed my purse and headed out.

A slow smirk spread across Blaise's face as he took in my entire outfit. "Damn, Y/N," he said, his voice dropping a cool octave. "You look goodness. Tonight, you're not just breaking hearts, you're shattering them."

"Thanks," I managed, trying to project an air of confidence I wasn't entirely sure I possessed.

The drive to the bar was a blur of conversation and upbeat music. Blaise gave me a heads-up that this was a different scene than the usual hangouts Lana and I frequented. No sticky floors or questionable punch here. This place oozed sophistication with a healthy dose of trendy vibes.

The closer we got, the bigger the butterflies became. "Just a heads-up," Blaise said casually, "Theo's gonna be there."

My eyes widened like headlights caught on high beams. "Why are you telling me this?" I blurted, my voice shaky.

Blaise held up his hands in mock surrender. "Whoa there, little firecracker. Easy now. Listen, I know what happened," he said, his tone gentle but firm.

He paused, his gaze meeting mine in the rearview mirror. "You've got two choices tonight," he continued, his voice low and serious. "Option one: Go in there, drown your sorrows in overpriced cocktails, and cry yourself to sleep like you have been for the past week. Option two: You walk in that door, head held high, and have the best damn night of your life. Show him what a colossal mistake he made. But more importantly, have fun. Forget Theo for the night. You deserve it."

My initial suspicion flared. How did Blaise know about Theo? Did Theo tell everyone, maybe even paint some twisted narrative of what happened? The worst-case scenario played in my head: everyone knowing I'd forced myself on him. I pushed those thoughts down, refusing to let them take root.

"Why are you being so nice to me?" I asked, my voice laced with a hint of suspicion.

Blaise raised an eyebrow, feigning offense. "Oh, the nerve! Here I am, trying to be the ever-so-charming host, and you accuse me of… niceness?" He placed a hand dramatically over his chest. "Honestly, Y/N, I'm deeply wounded."

I couldn't help but laugh, the sound light and genuine. It felt good, a welcome change from the constant ache in my chest. As we pulled into the bar's crowded parking lot, I spotted a familiar face – the Gryffindor girl from school, the one with a permanent case of RBF.

Suddenly, the prospect of a night out filled with new faces and zero Theo drama seemed a whole lot more appealing.

"Alright," I announced, a determined glint in my eyes. "Going inside and having fun sounds way better."

Blaise's smirk widened. "Now you're talking," he said, finally pulling the car to a stop. "Let's do this."

We pushed through the heavy bar doors, the sudden wave of loud music and flashing lights hitting me like a physical blow. My eyes squinted against the assault, struggling to adjust to the dim, pulsing atmosphere. The air was thick with the scent of sweat, spilled alcohol, and something vaguely floral that I couldn't quite identify.

Then I saw it.

Bodies. Everywhere bodies. Couples intertwined on couches, limbs tangled in a way that left little to the imagination. People grinding against each other on the dance floor, clothes barely clinging to their sweaty forms. My mouth fell open in a silent scream.

"Are you kidding me, Blaise?" I shrieked, my voice barely audible over the pounding music. "Did you invite me to an orgy ?"

Blaise chuckled, his earlier cool persona replaced by something a little more… suggestive. "Not quite, sweetheart," he drawled. "But if you're interested, I know a guy…"

Blaise winked, then turned his attention to a group of women across the room. My stomach churned. Had he brought me here just to ditch me?

"Where are you going?" I demanded, grabbing his arm before he could slink away.

He looked back at me, a sly smile playing on his lips. "You wouldn't want to know, sweetheart. Trust me." Before I could argue, he was weaving his way through the crowd, leaving me stranded in a sea of strangers.

Panic clawed at my throat. I was completely out of my element, suffocated by the throbbing music and the overt displays of affection. Trying to navigate the throng of people felt like trying to walk through a mosh pit. Elbows jabbed, drinks sloshed, and muttered curses collided with the music. Every step forward felt like a battle.

Just when I was on the verge of tears, a familiar voice cut through the din.

"Y/N? Is that you?"

I snapped my head towards the source of the sound, relief washing over me like a tidal wave. There, standing a few feet away, was Cedric Diggory, a friendly face from Hogwarts. He looked as surprised to see me as I was to see him.

"Oh, thank God!" I exclaimed, practically throwing myself at him. He caught me with a smile, a steady presence in the swirling chaos.

"What are you doing here?" I blurted out, clinging to him like a lifeline. "I came with Blaise, but… well, he kinda ditched me."

Cedric's smile faltered slightly, but he recovered quickly. "Don't worry about him," he said reassuringly. "I can take you home if you want."

The offer was tempting, a safe haven from the overwhelming sensory overload. But then my gaze fell across the crowded room, landing on Theo. He was… well, making out with someone. Not just anyone, but two someones. His hands were everywhere, his lips moving feverishly between two very enthusiastic girls.

The sight of him sent a fresh wave of anger and hurt coursing through me. I wanted to scream, to cry, to set the whole place on fire. But instead, I did something completely unexpected.

"Actually," I said, my voice surprisingly steady, "Do you want to dance?"

A slow smile spread across my face as Cedric offered his hand. Relief momentarily eclipsed the anger simmering beneath the surface. He led me onto the dance floor, his touch light and hesitant on my waist. Compared to Theo's rough possessiveness, it felt… foreign.

"Theodora Nott," I muttered under my breath, the name a bitter curse on my tongue. Every fiber of my being ached to tear my gaze away from Theo.

Cedric's breath tickled my ear as he spoke, but my mind was elsewhere. Then, our eyes met. Theo's. His face contorted in a mixture of surprise and disbelief, like he'd seen a ghost.

Theo seemed momentarily speechless, his jaw clenched tight. Then, in a move that surprised even me, he shoved the two girls aside, their confused faces momentarily forgotten. He barged his way through the crowd, a determined scowl on his face.

"Diggory," he spat, his voice laced with venom.

"Nott," Cedric replied, a flicker of confusion crossing his features.

"Think I can take this from here?" Theo said, his gaze never leaving mine. "Thanks for keeping Y/N company."

Cedric glanced between us, a hesitant frown creasing his brow. Knowing I needed to act fast, I plastered a sickly sweet smile on my face.

"It's alright, Cedric," I chirped, my voice dripping with fake sincerity. "Theo's here now, and you know, practically like a brother to me."

Theo's jaw clenched tight, his anger barely contained. It fueled a fire within me, a perverse satisfaction at seeing him squirm. Cedric, oblivious to the undercurrent of tension, simply nodded and melted back into the crowd.

As soon as he was out of sight, I reached out and lightly touched Theo's arm. "Hello, brother," I purred, the word laced with mockery. "Enjoying yourself?"

He swatted my hand away, his voice tight with irritation. "What the hell do you think you're doing here?"

"Dancing, drinking, you know ," I replied, my voice light and carefree. "Hopefully getting some… you know, without having to share." I couldn't resist adding a pointed jab at his earlier display of affection.

A muscle ticked in his jaw. "That's not the right answer, Y/N."

"Oh, so now you're the authority on what's right and wrong?" I scoffed. "Just get lost and let me enjoy my night."

"Not happening," he growled, stepping closer. For a fleeting moment, I swear his eyes flickered to my lips, sending a tremor of something unexpected through me.

"Not happening," he countered, his eyes flickering towards my lips for a fleeting moment.

A shiver ran down my spine, but I refused to let it show. "So you get to have fun, but I can't? Because from where I'm standing, it looks like you were having a blast with your little… (here I paused, searching for the perfect comedic insult) …buffet." I forced a smile, pushing myself away from him in a playful, yet firm, manner.

He didn't get a chance to retort before a gasp escaped my lips. A clumsy dancer, fueled by who-knows-what concoction, careened into me, spilling the entirety of his drink down my dress. The scarlet fabric clung to my body like a second skin, leaving little to the imagination.

Theo let out a frustrated curse under his breath. "Damn it, Y/N, and your damn stubborn red dresses ," he muttered, before grabbing my arm and pulling me away from the crowd. His gaze darted around frantically, before settling on a nearby staircase.

The world spun a little faster as Theo pulled me through the crowd, his grip tight on my arm. We navigated through bodies and flashing lights, finally ending up near a darkened stairway leading upwards. He pushed open a door, revealing a large, beautifully furnished room – a stark contrast to the party raging outside.

"Stay here," he instructed, his voice low and urgent.

I rolled my eyes, annoyed at his bossiness but strangely comforted by his protectiveness.My mind was still reeling from the sudden alcohol shower, my thoughts fuzzy and disconnected.

Theo's presence alone was overwhelming. All the anger, hurt, and confusion I'd been feeling seemed to coalesce into a potent cocktail of emotions. My mind, however, wasn't processing things clearly. The red dress clinging to my body, the sting of Theo's earlier words, the memory of seeing him with those girls – it all swirled together in a chaotic mess.

Ignoring the instruction to stay put, I crossed the room and locked the door with a satisfying click. Grasping the hem of the ruined dress, I ripped it upwards in one swift motion. There, standing before a giant mirror, was me in all my red lace glory – bra and panties matching the ruined dress.

Theo stepped in, a black t-shirt clutched in his hand. His gaze locked with mine, a slow burn spreading across his face. He scanned me from head to toe, his eyes lingering on the shocking red lace bra and matching panties that were now my only attire.

For a moment, the room seemed to shrink, the music fading into a distant hum. The air crackled with a tension that sent a jolt of electricity through me.

"You're drunk, aren't you?" he finally managed, his voice rough with a mix of concern and something else – something deeper.

The question snapped me out of my haze. A defiant chuckle escaped my lips. "Not a single Shot," I replied, my voice surprisingly steady as I walked towards him.

The t-shirt fluttered to the floor, forgotten. His eyes were fixed on me, his face a mask of conflicting emotions. I stopped just inches from him, tilting my head up to meet his gaze.

"What are you doing?" he whispered, his face just inches from mine. The heat of his body radiated against mine, intensifying the buzz in my head.

"We don't have to be in love," I slurred, my heart pounding a frantic rhythm against my ribs. A part of me knew this was insane, But another part just craved his attention, his touch.

All I craved was his attention, his touch.

"I just wanna be… one of your girls tonight," I continued, my voice barely above a whisper. A shiver ran down my spine as the reality of my words hit me. Was I really saying this? But then I remembered Theo with those other girls, the way they would whisper about him at school, the way they boasted about their "experiences" with him.

Suddenly, a strange sense of defiance mixed with a simmering desire fueled my next words. "I want what you give them," I confessed, my eyes locked on his. "The kind of thing they brag about to their friends for years."

He reached out, a single finger brushing against my cheek. My breath hitched at the contact.

"Give me tough love don’t hold back," I whispered, my voice thick with emotion. "Push me, choke me. Show me what it's like to be… yours even if it’s just for a night ." My voice dropped even lower. "Anything," I whispered, "just don't pretend you don't want me."

My words hung heavy in the air, the audacity of them making my cheeks burn. But before I could even think about backtracking, Theo surged forward, scooping me up into his arms. A gasp escaped my lips as he pulled me close, the familiar scent of his cologne washing over me.

He lifted me, wrapping my legs around his waist as he pulled me close. My hands instinctively found purchase on his broad shoulders, the heat radiating through his shirt setting my skin alight.

"That's wrong," he rasped, his lips brushing dangerously close to mine.

"It's not," I insisted, the defiance laced with a desperate plea.

He didn't answer. Instead, he kissed me. It was a hard kiss, desperate and hungry, as if he was trying to erase everything that had come between us. My body melted against his, all thoughts fleeing my mind except for the fierce press of his lips against mine.

He carried me across the room, depositing me onto a large table. pulled away after what felt like an eternity, his eyes blazing with an intensity that sent a tremor through me. He pushed a stray strand of hair from my face, his eyes searching mine. "I'd hold onto something, if I were you." he murmured, his voice thick with possessiveness that both terrified and excited me.

My fingers brushed against his face, his warm breath ghosting over my lips as he leaned down.

His hand moved down my body, a slow, deliberate caress that sent shivers erupting across my skin. His fingers grazed my thighs, a light touch that somehow managed to ignite a fire within me. My breath hitched, a moan escaping my lips as desire battled with the remnants of reason.

His lips brushed against my ear, his voice a husky whisper against my sensitive skin. "Choose a word," he murmured, his breath sending shivers down my spine.

I nodded numbly, unsure if I would even be able to speak if I needed to.

"Red," I managed to whisper, my voice laced with desire as his lips trailed along my neck, eliciting a soft moan from deep within me.

"Fucking red again," he muttered, his lips pressing against my skin with a hunger that ignited a fire within me. I arched my neck, offering him more access, more of me.

"You use this if it gets too much, understood?" he said, his voice commanding. I nodded eagerly.

He continued to kiss my jaw and neck with an intensity that left me breathless. My hand tangled in his hair, urging him closer. When he bit down on a sensitive spot on my neck, I couldn't contain a scream of pleasure.

His hand cupped my core through my panties, and I instinctively gripped his shoulder, my body responding to his touch. I had never experienced anything like this before, but I couldn't admit that to him.

"Have you done anything like this before?" he asked, his breath hot against my earlobe. I moaned softly as I lied, nodding in response.

"Yes," I whispered, my voice barely audible over the rush of sensations.

He parted my legs forcefully and held my jaw in his hand, locking eyes with mine. "You did?" he questioned, a hint of possessiveness in his tone.

I nodded again, unable to speak as desire coursed through me.

"He's dead, whoever he is," he declared, sending a shiver down my spine. His fingers slipped inside my panties, and I gasped at the sudden intimacy, my body responding eagerly to his touch.

"Theo," I managed to gasp out, my heart pounding in my chest.

"Yes, baby?" he responds, his voice deep and husky. The way he says "baby" sends shivers down my spine. It feels too good, too right, felt like a sweet caress to my soul.

"You can do whatever you want to me," i whispered, my fingers tracing his jawline. "Anything."

He responds by parting my lips with his finger leaning down to take my lower lips into his kiss. It's so soft, so gentle, that I feel like I've been transported to heaven. His tongue enters my mouth at the same time he touches my clit, and I moan.

He rubs my clit in gentle circles, and I hold onto his shoulder, digging my nails into his skin. He pulls away from the kiss, my lips are still on his, and I moan into his mouth. His tongue continues to explore mine as his fingers work their magic.

"Oh Merlin," I cry out, and he smiles against my cheek.

"Not Merlin, baby, but me," he whispered against my cheek, his touch sending me spiraling further into ecstasy. He added a finger inside me, and I cried out, my back arching with pleasure.

"Fuck, you're so tight. You sure you've done this before?" he questioned, a hint of disbelief in his voice. I've done this before, in my dreams, with him. I bite my lip to keep from moaning too loudly, and he looks displeased with that.

"Keep making those sounds, I love the sound of your voice," he says, and I do it again. He stops kissing me” you did that again and i stop, understood? “ I nodded immediately.

He’s not done yet. He pushed my bra strap down, placing kisses along the exposed skin.

His fingers start to move faster, as he kissed me, swallowing all my moans. He adds another finger, and I scream, my back arching again.

I bite my lips without even noticing and he slowed his movements I hold onto his hand fast, afraid he'll stop.

"Please don't stop, I'll be good, I promise," I beg, my voice barely above a whisper.

"Fuck, say it again," his gaze intense with desire.

"I'll be good, Theo," I repeated, my voice a desperate plea.

He moves his fingers faster in response, hitting a spot inside me that makes me see stars. He keeps hitting it, over and over again, while circling my clit.

"I'm going to--" I try to say, but I can't finish my sentence. Pleasure consumes me, and I scream his name. He plays with my hair, pushing my tears and hair away from my face.

"I know, sweet girl," he murmured, his words pushing me over the edge into a mind-blowing orgasm."So sweet, so good."

He watched me with intense desire as I came, his fingers never ceasing their movements. "And so fucking hot," he added as he looked at me while experiencing his own release.

“you look so pretty when you’re cumming for me,” he murmured, placing soft kisses on my neck

I breathed heavily as he pulled his hands from me, bringing his fingers to his mouth and savoring my cum. "You taste so sweet, baby," he murmured, his gaze locked on mine.

He cupped my face, placing soft kisses on my lips, again and again. "So sweet, so angelic,"

With a gentle touch, he lifted me from the table, carrying me softly and placing me on the bed. His face was close to mine, his nose brushing against mine, and he kissed me deeply. I moaned as he opened my bra clips, leaning down to place a soft kiss on my jawline, then my collarbone.

He traced his way down, kissing every inch of my body until he reached my breasts. I closed my eyes as he put a soft kiss on them, my heart pounding in my chest.

"Eyes on me, baby. Don't shut them," he commanded, and I nodded, my breath heavy. I looked at him, my love for him overwhelming.

With each lick and kiss, I moaned louder, the pleasure building with every touch, and I arched my back, my fingers gripping the sheets.

With a final lick, he traced his way down, kissing every inch of my body. He kissed my stomach and looked up at me, his gaze intense.

He parted my legs, the sight of him between them is my idea of heaven. I nodded, and he pulled my panties down.

As he pulled my panties down, I felt a rush of shyness,"You will keep them open," he said, and I nodded again , my breath hitching.

"Good girl," he praised, his lips trailing kisses along my thighs. I couldn't resist running my fingers through his soft hair, pushing it from his face.

"You want rough love, you say?" he stated, using my own words against me.

"Yes," I moaned, my mouth gasping as I felt his mouth on my wet pussy.

"And you keep listening to what those girls say?" he asked.

"Yes, and it hurts," I managed to say.

"So I have to make up for it then, baby, don't you think?" he asked,

He didn't waste time. His tongue explored my folds, and it felt strange but in a good way. He licked and sucked, and I felt like I might explode.

He kept doing it, for what felt like an eternity. He kept my legs open, and my back ached. I cried heavily, it was the best thing I had ever felt. I could feel my body already over the edge.

"Don't cum," he said, and I shook my head. He continued eating me out, so much. I could feel his fingers inside me, and I screamed again.

"Please," I begged, unable to resist the overwhelming pleasure he was giving me.

"You cum, and it's over," he warned, his finger entering me gently.

I held onto his shoulder tightly, my body teetering on the edge. "Say the word, and I'll stop," he offered.

But I couldn't bring myself to say it. "No," I managed to whisper, my voice filled with need and desire.

His tongue flicked my clit, and I felt my orgasm building. I screamed his name, and he kept going, pushing me further and further over the edge. I screamed again, and again, and again. I couldn't take it anymore, and I came hard, my body shaking with the force of it.

He looked up at me, his lips glistening with my juices.

I was still trying to catch my breath from what just happened as Theo's words registered in my mind. "You are a virgin," he said, and I shook my head fast, trying to dispel the shock.

"No, no, I'm not. The boys I've been with before weren't experienced," I managed to say, feeling a rush of embarrassment at my slip of words. Why did I say "boys"?

Theo's gaze held fire as he processed my words. "Boys?" he repeated, his voice tinged with something I couldn't quite decipher.

I immediately felt the need to defend myself. "You don't think I'm attractive enough to be with more than one boy in my life?" I asked, a hint of defiance in my tone.

"Quite the opposite," he assured me, but his expression remained serious. "I want to know who dared and did that," he added, his eyes searching mine.

I bit my lip nervously, realizing the implications of what I had unintentionally revealed. Boys were afraid to pursue Lana because of Theo's reputation, but the way he reacted made me wonder if he wasn't threatening the boys for just getting close to lana .

"You can't just control who I can be with, Theo," I said, surprised at my own boldness.

"I think I can," he asserted firmly.

I took a breath, trying to calm the tension that crackled between us. "I won't mind," I said softly, my voice pleading. "I would do anything to please you. I would do anything you ask me to."

"Stop talking like that, y/n," he ordered, his tone strained.

"Okay," I acquiesced, sensing that I had crossed a line.

"Fuck," he cursed under his breath, clearly struggling with his own emotions.

I reached out and touched his hand that was on my face, trying to ease the tension. I smiled while kissing his hand, then surprised both of us by putting one of his fingers inside my mouth and sucking on it gently.

"You are going to be the death of me," he muttered, but there was a hint of amusement in his voice.

"I need you, Theo, all of you, even just for the night, please," I pleaded, desperate for him to understand.

"Don't cry, unless it's from the pleasure I give you," he said, brushing away my tears gently.

I propped myself up on my elbow to get closer to him, craving his touch and his reassurance. He kissed me again, and in that moment, I felt like I could live in this bliss forever.

He reached for a condom, and I tried not to show my nerves as he prepared himself. His size was daunting, and I couldn't help but wonder how it would fit inside me. My head hit the pillow again as he spread my legs, his hardness teasing my entrance.

He entered me slowly, and I cried out as the pain shot through me, tears streaming down my face. "You are a fucking virgin," he exclaimed, his own frustration evident.

"It's not a fucking game, y/n," he continued, his tone softer but still edged with tension.

"I'm sorry, please do something," I pleaded, feeling overwhelmed.

He wiped my tears away, his features softening. "Fuck, baby, don't cry. It will get better, I promise. Just relax," he reassured me, his voice soothing.

"Breathe, it's just me," he added, placing kisses on my forehead and then my cheek.

"I think... I think you can move now, please," I managed to say, trying to regain my composure.

He held my face in his hand while the other supported him as he moved slowly, allowing me to adjust to him. I closed my eyes, focusing on the pleasure and the connection between us.

"You want fast, I can take it," I said, unsure if I was ready but wanting to prove myself to him.

"It's not a competition, y/n. You don't have to prove anything, baby,"

"The girls you've been with, they must have..." I started to say, but he cut me off.

"They didn't matter. You do," he said, surprising both of us with his confession.

He settled into a rhythm that felt perfect, and I closed my eyes, reveling in the sensations. His thrusts ranged from slow and tender to fast and intense, driving me wild with pleasure.

"Talk to me," he urged, and I struggled to form coherent sentences amidst the pleasure.

"It feels... good," I managed to say, my words coming out in fragmented breaths.

"Yeah?" he questioned, and I nodded, unable to articulate just how amazing it felt.

He increased his pace, and I arched my back, meeting his movements eagerly. "What about this?" he asked, his touch sending waves of pleasure through me.

"Do it again," I begged, wanting more of him, more of this intense pleasure.

He obliged, and the pleasure intensified, pushing me closer to the edge of ecstasy. I moaned and cried out his name, lost in the sensations that only he could evoke.

He thrust a few more times, then finally reached his own peak, his body collapsing slightly against mine as we both caught our breaths.

After a moment, he pulled out and disposed of the condom, then lay beside me.

Silence stretched between us, thick and suffocating. I was afraid to talk afraid to ruin what we just had, My hand hovered in the air, reaching for his face, but Theo stopped me, his grip surprisingly tight on my wrist.

My heart hammered against my ribs, a frantic drum solo against the backdrop of my racing thoughts. Please, no. Not the cold shoulder again.

" The- Theo," I whispered, my voice trembling, but he pushed my hand away before I could say more. His sudden change left me feeling lost and vulnerable, like I had done something terribly wrong.

"You… sore?" he finally spoke, his voice strained.

I blinked, tears pricking at the corners of my eyes. The Theo who had been making love to me just minutes ago seemed to have vanished. This was the cold, distant Theo I knew all too well.

"A little," I managed to whisper, my voice cracking.

"Then get dressed," he said curtly. "I'm taking you home. Your big night is over." his words cutting through me like knives. I tried to speak, to explain, but he silenced me with a stern command. "Not a word, y/n. Not a fucking word."

He got out of bed and started putting on his clothes, tossing a t-shirt and his jacket in my direction. As he grabbed my phone and things, I felt my heart shatter into a million pieces. It was as if everything we had shared meant nothing to him.

As shaky legs carried me to my feet, I pulled on the clothes, tears blurring my vision. A choked sob escaped my lips, and another, and another.

"Congratulations, Y/N," I whispered to myself, my voice raw with emotion. "You're officially one of his girls."

"Congratulations, y/n. You’re officially one of the girls," he remarked, his words cutting deep into my already wounded heart.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆

Part2

[robobarbie]

I love quest and I miss his pretty face as my week of hell(finals) is starting 🥺

That is all

Quest laughs into the phone. "You miss me that much, angel?"

You scoff in faux embarrassment, and he smiles wider at the sound. He misses you even more -- not that he would put that pressure on you, not now during finals. He knows you'll see him when you can.

It's just that... yeah. It's been a while this time. You've had to study nearly all semester, not to mention that part-time (nearly full-time) job you picked up just a few weeks ago.

The last time he called, you had to hang up twice because of bad service at work, and then an hour later (when he tried again) you couldn't talk because a friend needed to study. He had asked if he could tag along too, but you insisted he stay home. "It would be boring for you!" And then the call dropped. On accident, he thinks.

He wondered if there was a message in that, too. But you wouldn't do that to him, right?

"Quest? Are you there?"

He shook his head. "Yeah! Sorry, lost in thought. What did you say?"

"Ah, nothing important."

A small pang in his heart. It's all important to him. "Sorry, angel."

"I have to run, catch you later?"

"Sure, when?"

You chuckle, clearly tired. "Soon, hopefully."

"Haha. Love y-"

Your line cuts abruptly. Bad service again, probably.

He holds the phone to his ear for a few seconds more before placing it on the counter and grabbing his coat. Maybe a walk will clear his mind.