#i actually... love drawing this stupid flower so much

[otlwoozi]

seventeen right here... everywhere?

[puppppppppy]

Was nobody gonna warn me that I would fall a little bit in love with every character in Stardew

[bamgyuuuri]

⸝⸝ blue hydrangeas ┈ kth.

⸝⸝ IN a world where soulmates are tied by "soulblooms," flowers that manifest on the hand when touched by fate’s match, you have spent your life with an empty wrist and a guarded heart. but when a fleeting touch with taehyun—a boy you find insufferably perfect—awakens a blue hydrangea on your grasp, everything you thought you knew about fate, connection, and him, turned on its head.

pairings and tags. academicrival!taehyun x fem!reader . soulmate au. enemies to lovers . slowburn . grumpy x sunshine . forced proximity . slowburn . taehyun is a huge tease . tension !!!! not actually unrequited love? angst

word count. 29.7k

short note! it's finally here!!!! it was such an honor to work alongside such talented moas! i am beyond grateful to be part of something this special >< every moment spent working on this was filled with so much love and excitement, and i hope you all enjoy it as much as we did creating it!! <3

you hated kang taehyun with every fiber of your being.

there was something about him that irked you to your very core, something that made your teeth grit and your stomach twist every time you were forced to be near him.

it wasn't just his irritatingly perfect smile, or his perfect grades, or his constant ability to somehow do everything just a little bit better than you, no. it was something more insidious—something about how effortlessly he seemed to exist in a world where everything was perfectly aligned in his favor. he was always better, always one step ahead.

and it wasn’t just in the classroom either. taehyun's reach extended far beyond that, into places where you thought you had some semblance of control. in the student council, for example, where you held the position of vice president—a role you worked your ass off to attain—taehyun somehow made being the president look like a walk in the park.

with his easy charm and flawless leadership, he outshone you at every turn. it wasn’t that you didn’t have the capacity for leadership, you knew you were just as capable. more capable. but taehyun? he was like a magnet, drawing the attention of everyone in the room with a simple flash of his smile, a soft laugh that echoed off the walls of the council room.

you hated how easy he made it look.

every time you thought you had finally gained some ground, taehyun would be there. standing just a little bit taller, a little bit more poised—effortlessly securing the praise, the respect, the adoration. it was maddening.

you hated him.

and yet, it wasn’t just the ways he made you feel small, it was how he never let you hide it. how, no matter how obviously you displayed your contempt for him, he remained annoyingly unfazed, like he could see right through the walls you tried to build. he never flinched, never reacted in the way you expected. he’d simply laugh, his voice low and warm, as though everything you did to push him away was just a minor inconvenience.

the worst part? taehyun was nice to you. you could never understand it.

it was almost like he reveled in it—like he enjoyed seeing you fume in frustration. he would do things like open doors for you, something so simple and innocent, yet it felt like a taunt. he’d hold the door wide, with that stupid, gentle smile of his. he would always ask how you were, even though it felt like a question that was both too casual and too personal, as if he could sense the tension in your voice, the subtle crack in your facade whenever you answered him.

you hated how taehyun made you feel seen, how he seemed to know you better than anyone else, even though you barely let anyone in. he noticed the way you hesitated, the way your voice would shake when you pretended not to care. it was infuriating. you’d shove it all down, but he’d always come back for more, always patient, always gentle, like a relentless force pulling at the edges of your defenses.

you hated that no matter how many times you tried to push him away, he would be right back the next day, like nothing ever happened. you’d look away, stubborn and angry, trying to ignore the faint flutter in your chest when he smiled at you. his smile—always so warm, so effortless—made everything worse. because deep down, you knew you hated it... but you couldn’t look away.

before you could shove the thought away, before you could shake off the way his gaze lingered just a second too long, the static hum of the intercom crackled through the classroom, making you flinch.

“president and vice president of the student council, please report to the principal’s office.”

the words rang in your ears, a sudden disruption to the taut thread of your thoughts. you let out a slow breath, forcing your shoulders to relax, pushing down whatever unwanted feeling had started to creep in.

you turned on your heel without another glance in his direction, your steps measured and purposeful as you headed towards the door. the room buzzed faintly behind you, students murmuring about why the two of you were being called this time. probably another event to oversee, another responsibility stacked onto the ever-growing pile. 

but just as you reached the door, he moved ahead of you, stopping right at the threshold. his hand rested lightly against the frame as he turned back, expression as unreadable as ever—soft yet calculated, warm yet knowing.

“after you,” taehyun says smoothly, tilting his head ever so slightly.

your eyes flickered to him, lingering for only a second before you scoffed. of course. always so proper, so polite. always so perfectly composed.

“just go, kang.” your voice was clipped, your patience thinning at the edges.

but he didn’t budge. instead, a small chuckle escaped him, low and unhurried, like he found your irritation amusing. he remained still, waiting, that same infuriatingly gentle smile tugging at his lips.

for a moment, you considered pushing past him, ignoring his presence entirely. but something about the way he stood there—calm, unshaken, as if he had all the time in the world—made your skin prickle. unwilling to prolong the moment, you rolled your eyes and stepped through first, feeling the weight of taehyun’s gaze trailing behind you as he finally followed.

the hallway was quieter than usual, the usual rush of students dwindling between periods. your footsteps echoed faintly against the polished floors, the rhythmic tap of your shoes the only sound filling the space between you. for once, you wished it would stay that way.

but taehyun was never one to let silence settle for too long.

“you did well on the last presentation,” he said, his voice cutting through the quiet with an ease that made your fingers twitch.

you kept your gaze ahead, eyes fixed on the stretch of hallway before you. “so?”

taehyun hummed, slow and thoughtful. “the teachers were impressed. even the principal didn’t have anything to correct, which is rare.”

there was something in his tone—something easy yet deliberate. you weren’t sure if he was just making conversation or if he was testing you, seeing how long it would take before you snapped at him.

your fingers curled at your sides. “is that supposed to mean something?”

taehyun let out a soft chuckle, hands tucked casually into his pockets. “it means you’re good at what you do.”

you stole a glance at him from the corner of your eye, but his expression remained neutral, unreadable. there was no teasing lilt to his voice, no smugness in his words. just a simple statement, spoken like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

you looked away, exhaling through your nose. “obviously.”

taehyun laughs, a quiet, breathy sound that sent a shiver up your spine. “you’re awfully cute when you’re smug.”

your steps faltered—just barely, just for a second—before you snapped your head towards him with a sharp glare. “don’t say weird things.”

but he only smiled, eyes twinkling with something unreadable, something that made your stomach twist.

“it’s not weird if it’s true.”

your fingers twitched at your sides, a heat creeping up the back of your neck. you hated this. hated how easily he got under your skin, how effortlessly he chipped away at your walls like it was second nature to him. like he wasn’t even trying.

but more than anything, you hated that, despite everything, you never had it in you to stop him.

before you knew it, the office door was already looming ahead, its dark wooden surface polished to a near mirror-like shine, reflecting the dim glow of the hallway’s overhead lights. despite the countless times you had stood before it, waiting to be summoned inside for meetings, discussions, and the occasional reprimand over minor council disputes, it never failed to fill you with a familiar sense of dread. not because you feared the principal—he was reasonable enough—but because you knew that whatever awaited you beyond that door would inevitably mean more work, more responsibilities. more time spent in taehyun’s infuriating presence.

your fingers twitched at your sides, itching to get this over with. but before you could reach for the handle, taehyun was already moving, stepping forward with that effortless confidence that made your teeth grind. it was miniscule but it never fails to cause irritation to bubble up into your already wounded ego.

his knuckles met the wood in three firm, evenly spaced knocks—never too loud, never too soft. just right. of course.

then, without hesitation, he twisted the handle and pushed the door open. but instead of stepping through, he turned to you—that familiar, insufferably polite smile curving his lips.

“after you,” he says once again, his voice smooth, as if this wasn’t the hundredth time he’d done this.

your lips pressed into a thin, irritated line, and you felt the immediate, burning need to roll your eyes. instead, you inhaled sharply, resisting the urge to push past him just to spite him.

“stop doing that,” you muttered, stepping into the office without sparing him a glance.

behind you, taehyun let out a quiet chuckle, the sound low and warm, like he had been expecting your reaction all along. you could practically feel the amusement radiating off him as he followed you inside at an easy, unhurried pace, as if this was all some game to him.

the office was warm, the scent of freshly brewed coffee mingling with the faintest traces of old paper and polished wood. the large mahogany desk stood at the center, stacked neatly with files, reports, and what you assumed were upcoming event proposals.

behind the desk sat the principal, an older man with sharp, perceptive eyes that held a kindness just beneath their surface. his neatly pressed suit was accompanied by a tie that looked slightly askew, as if he had been rushing between meetings all morning. at the sight of you both, he offered a welcoming nod, his hands clasping together in front of him.

“ah, president,”  he greeted, his voice carrying that authoritative weight you had grown used to. “vice president,” somehow, the fact that he regarded you a little later adds another stack of reasons to be vexed as you remain in this room with not only him, but also the principal. “thank you for coming on such short notice.”

you returned the gesture with a curt nod, holding your hands behind your back in an attempt to brace yourself for whatever was about to be dropped onto your already full plate. beside you, taehyun dipped his head in acknowledgment, his posture effortlessly composed.

the principal didn’t waste time, leaning forward slightly as he rested his forearms on the desk. his sharp gaze flickered between the two of you, a knowing glint settling in his eyes.

“i’m sure you both know what time of year it is,” he began, his tone measured, expectant.

your brows furrowed slightly, the question lingering in the air for only a second before taehyun, ever the perfect student, filled the silence.

“the winter ball,” he supplied smoothly, the answer rolling off his tongue like second nature.

the principal’s lips curled into a satisfied smile. “precisely. it’s one of our school’s most anticipated events, and this year, we want it to be even more memorable than the last.” he gestured towards the neatly stacked files on his desk, his fingers tapping lightly against the topmost folder. “as always, we’re prepared to provide you with all the budget you need to bring it to life. however, the student council will be in charge of every aspect of the planning.”

your stomach twisted.

of course it was. as if the student council didn’t already have enough responsibilities—event coordination, student affairs, disciplinary oversight—now you had to organize the biggest event of the year on top of everything else. had it not been for your role and how you regaled yourself as orderly, you would have questioned if the school boards even did anything apart from providing budgetary funds. you held your tongue and kept yourself poised despite yourself.

swallowing the sigh that threatens to escape your lips, you focus on maintaining your total composure. breaking would be unnecessary and you knew better than to crack under pressure just because something began to grind your gears.

“understood,” taehyun said without missing a beat, his tone carrying that same unwavering confidence he always spoke with. “we’ll handle everything.”

your eyes snapped to him, barely concealing your incredulity. we? we weren’t the ones who would end up buried in logistical nightmares and last-minute disasters. you were. while taehyun would breeze through meetings with his stupid, easy charm, you’d be the one pulling late nights, making sure every detail was perfect.

but of course, he looked completely at ease, his expression betraying none of the stress you already felt settling onto your shoulders.

the principal nodded in approval, leaning back in his chair. “good. i expected nothing less.” he glanced between the two of you once more before offering a small, knowing smile. “i trust that the two of you, along with the rest of the council, will make this year’s ball unforgettable.”

as the meeting wrapped up, you and taehyun dipped into a synchronized bow, offering the principal a respectful farewell before turning towards the door. you moved first, your steps quick and eager to escape the weight of unadulterated expectations that had just been placed on your shoulders.

the moment you stepped out into the hallway and the door clicked shut behind you, the sigh you had been holding back finally slipped past your lips. it was long and heavy, filled with every ounce of exasperation you had swallowed down in that office.

taehyun must have noticed, because just as you were trying to compose yourself, you caught the slightest movement from the corner of your eye—his hand, lifting ever so slightly, as if to place a reassuring touch on your shoulder.

you moved away before he could.

your sharp glare met his gaze, and for a second, the air between you crackled with tension. his hand dropped back to his side, but the teasing curve of his lips remained.

“don’t,” you warned, voice flat.

taehyun let out a soft chuckle, utterly unbothered. “what? i was just going to tell you that you’re gonna do great.”

“oh, shut up,” you muttered, rubbing your temple as if that would somehow ease the headache forming at the thought of the endless planning ahead. “this is a lot of work. again. do they not realize how much we already do?”

taehyun hummed in thought, shoving his hands into the pockets of his blazer. “well, to be fair, the winter ball is a big deal. people look forward to it all year. it makes sense they want to go all out.”

“great. good for them,” you deadpanned. “meanwhile, i’ll be drowning in event proposals, budgeting spreadsheets, and people asking if we can add a ‘winter wonderland’ theme for the fourth time.”

taehyun chuckled, tilting his head slightly as he glanced at you. “you’re being dramatic.”

you shot him an exasperated look, one that should’ve been enough to burn through his unshakable confidence. should’ve been, but of course, this was kang taehyun you were dealing with—unfazed, infuriating, and always ready with some smooth remark that made your blood boil.

“oh, am i? am i really, kang?” you seethed, voice laced with frustration. “because guess who’s going to be stuck micromanaging everything while everyone else just throws out random ideas and disappears?”

taehyun blinked at you, the picture of innocence. “us?”

you let out a humorless laugh, shaking your head as you leveled him with a sharp glare. “me,” you corrected, jabbing a finger against your chest. “because you’ll probably just sit there smiling and nodding while i suffer.”

his laughter came easily, light and unhurried, like the idea of your impending misery was genuinely amusing to him. the corners of his eyes crinkled in that stupidly endearing way, and for a moment, you forgot what you were mad about.

“come on, give me some credit,” taehyun replies, and before you could take a step back, he nudged your arm playfully—so effortless, so natural, like touching you was just second nature to him. you recoiled instantly, pulling away before the warmth of his skin could linger against your jacket. “i help out a lot too. i mean, i am the president.”

“oh, please,” you scoffed, folding your arms over your chest like a barrier, like it would somehow protect you from his relentless confidence. “you showing up to meetings with an iced americano and nodding along to whatever’s being said is not helping.” taehyun’s grin widened, all sharp amusement, like he was enjoying this far more than he should. “hey, that’s unfair. sometimes i write stuff down.”

“you doodle.”

“art is important for brainstorming.”

you shot him a deadpan look. “so is actual brainstorming.”

but taehyun didn’t waver. his smile softened just a fraction, the teasing edge in his tone giving way to something quieter, something dangerously close to sincerity.

“i do mean it,” taehyun said, and this time, he didn’t laugh. didn’t flash that insufferable, knowing smirk. didn’t lace his words with teasing or smug amusement. instead, his voice came quieter, steadier—like an oath meant to be kept. “i’m not just going to let you do all the work. i’ll help, i promise.”

his words should have rolled right off you, should have been easy to dismiss like every other time he made empty assurances with that effortless confidence of his. but something about the way he said it—the way he looked at you—made you pause for just a fraction of a second too long.

you scoffed again, but the usual sharpness in your voice was missing, dulled by the unexpected sincerity lingering between you. “i know you,” you muttered, grasping for the familiar rhythm of irritation that kept you balanced around him. “you’ll just charm everyone into doing things for you while i handle the logistics.”

taehyun’s grin stretched wider, his eyes glinting with something dangerously playful—like you had just unknowingly handed him the perfect setup for a joke. “well, yeah,” he admitted with a casual shrug, the corners of his lips twitching. “that’s called teamwork.”

you groaned dramatically, tilting your head back, pressing your fingers against the bridge of your nose as if you could physically push away the headache he was undoubtedly going to give you. “you are so—”

“but,” he cut in smoothly, and there was something in his tone that made you drop your hand and actually look at him. he wasn’t done. “since you’re so convinced i’m just going to sit back and make you do everything, let me put it on record—i’ll be in charge of buying the decorations. i’ll help with booking the venue, the catering, and dealing with the faculty.”

your arms, which had been folded tightly against your chest, slackened just slightly.

“i’ll help set up, too,” taehyun continued easily, ticking things off on his fingers like he was reading off a checklist. “and—” he shot you a knowing glance, “—i’ll make sure no one dumps last-minute work on you like they always do.”

your mouth opened—whether to argue or to question him, you weren’t even sure—but nothing came out.

taehyun noticed. he always did.

“what?” he teased, leaning in slightly like he was studying your reaction up close. “shocked into silence? i should say sincere things more often.”

you snapped out of it, glaring as you stepped back. “i just didn’t expect you to actually think about any of this.”

“what, you think i don’t pay attention?” taehyun hummed, tilting his head. “i know you do all the heavy lifting every year. i know you always end up picking up the slack when people flake. and i know you’d rather pretend you don’t care than let anyone see you stressed about it.”

taehyun smiled, but it wasn’t smug this time. it was softer. easier. genuine.“so, yeah,” he said, as if his words hadn’t just shaken something loose inside you. “i’ll help. properly.”

you swallowed, forcing yourself to scoff, to keep your defenses up. “yeah, well,” you muttered, looking away. “you better.”

he chuckled, unfazed as always. “see? we’re making progress already.”

“i hate you.”

“no, you don’t,” he said, and the worst part was that he sounded like he knew it. ꒰💐꒱ the student council room buzzed with the quiet shuffle of papers and the faint hum of conversation as the members gathered around the long wooden table, settling into their seats. the late afternoon sunlight filtered in through the windows, casting elongated shadows across the polished surface.

you sat near the head of the table, arms crossed, posture composed, but your patience was already thinning before the meeting had even begun. beside you, taehyun leaned forward slightly, his usual composed expression unreadable as he flipped through a neatly organized binder—probably filled with notes and plans that he had somehow managed to put together in the few hours since you both left the principal’s office. you wondered if an actual job would be just as exhausting as this—but at least having work meant you were paid for all of this trouble.

the moment the last person took their seat, you cleared your throat, drawing everyone’s attention. “alright, let’s get this over with,” you said, ignoring the amused glance taehyun shot your way. “as you all know, the winter ball is coming up, and since the school is giving us the budget we need, it’s up to us to handle all the planning.”

taehyun, ever the composed leader, leaned forward with his arms resting against the table, scanning the three of you with his usual unreadable expression. “which means first things first,” he says, “we need a theme.”

a beat of silence followed, filled only by the distant chatter of students lingering in the hallways and the rhythmic ticking of the clock on the wall. then, with a loud thud, beomgyu—who had been balancing his chair precariously on two legs—let it drop back down, the abrupt sound making jiwon, the treasurer, flinch. he leaned forward, propping his elbow on the table and resting his chin on his palm, his eyes glinting with easy confidence. "what about… a black-and-white party?"

you blinked, eyebrows furrowing. “you mean… just two colors?”

"yeah," beomgyu confirmed, nonchalant. "like, everyone wears black or white. sleek. simple. no weird decorations." he shrugged as if he had just solved an age-old dilemma, clearly satisfied with himself. "it’ll be easy."

taehyun hummed, tapping the end of his pen against his notebook in thought. "it’s not bad, but it might be too minimal. people like having something to work with beyond just a color palette."

you nodded, already envisioning how utterly lifeless it would be. "and it could get boring fast. we need something with more… i don’t know. atmosphere."

before beomgyu could defend his idea, jiwon suddenly straightened in his seat, his perfectly styled hair falling slightly over his forehead as he tilted his head in what you knew was supposed to be a calculated display of charm. “hmm,” he mused, twirling his pen between his fingers. “what about an enchanted garden theme? twinkling fairy lights, roses everywhere, maybe even a little love-seat corner for couples…” his eyes flickered towardss taehyun, the end of his sentence laced with a easy lilt. “it’d be so cool, don’t you think, taehyun?”

taehyun, either genuinely oblivious or just expertly unfazed, regarded him with a blank expression, blinking once. “...that’s just prom with plants.” jiwon’s smile faltered for half a second before he recovered, running a hand through his neatly styled hair. “well, not just a prom! we could—”

“it’s a winter formal,” taehyun cut in smoothly, his tone polite but unwavering. “not a midsummer night’s dream.” jiwon huffed, his expression tightening for a split second before he forced another airy laugh, though the slight flicker of irritation in his eyes didn’t go unnoticed by you. “fine. whatever,”

taehyun paid him no mind, glancing at the rest of you. "anyone else?"

beomgyu, who was still highly entertained by the exchange, perked up once more, his lips stretching into a grin. "okay, okay," he sighed, lifting his hands in mock surrender. "what if we do… a retro neon theme?"

you, taehyun, and jiwon turned to look at him at the exact same time, identical expressions of sheer disbelief written across your faces.

“…beomgyu,” you deadpanned, eyeing him as if he had just suggested you all hold the event in a convenience store parking lot. “this is a winter formal.”

beomgyu blinked innocently. “yeah, and?”

taehyun tilted his head slightly, looking at him as if he were trying to decipher an alien language. “so, you want people to slow dance under fluorescent pink lights?”

beomgyu crossed his arms, clearly standing by his idea. “who said anything about slow dancing? picture this—electric blues, neon signs, a dance floor that actually lights up. vintage, but modern.”

you stared at him. “that literally makes no sense.”

beomgyu groaned, throwing his head back dramatically. "you guys are impossible.”

before another argument could erupt, jiwon clapped his hands together, his eyes brightening with excitement. "ooh! what about a winter wonderland?"

you physically felt your soul leave your body. slowly, deliberately, you turned to face him, fingers tightening around your pen. "jiwon," you said, voice calm yet edged with thinly veiled exasperation, "it is already winter. people are literally living in a winter wonderland right now."

he pouted slightly, tilting his head as if that would somehow make his idea sound more appealing. "but we could make it cute! like, snowflakes everywhere, and maybe a big fake ice castle—"

“so… the exact same theme the school has used like four times before?” beomgyu interjected, raising an eyebrow.

jiwon frowned, tapping his pen against the table in thought. “well, i mean… yeah, but it’s classic.”

you exhaled through your nose, pressing your fingers against your temple. classic or not, it was painfully predictable, and if you had to sit through another event drowning in fake icicles and blue-tinted lights as if you were in the antartica, you were going to lose your mind.

“we need something fresh,” you muttered. “something that actually makes people excited to go.”

taehyun glanced at you, a knowing glint in his eyes. "so, you want something that stands out?"

you turned to him, narrowing your eyes. "obviously." beomgyu, who had been silent for a beat too long, suddenly leaned back in his chair, stretching his arms over his head. “alright, then.” he let his arms drop back down, his gaze flickering between the three of you before a slow grin curved on his lips. “what about a masquerade ball?”

the room went quiet.

taehyun’s pen stilled between his fingers. you turned your head just in time to catch the way his gaze flickered to yours, brows raising slightly in silent acknowledgment. huh.

you narrowed your eyes, already seeing the gears turning in his head.

he knew.

you knew.

and beomgyu, perceptive as ever, caught onto the silent exchange in an instant. his grin widened, mischief flickering behind his eyes as he leaned forward, bracing his forearms against the table. “what’s with the looks? did i just blow your tiny little minds?”

you scoffed, but the corners of your lips twitched, betraying your amusement. “please. let’s not get ahead of ourselves.”

taehyun hummed, drumming his fingers against his notebook, the sound a steady, thoughtful rhythm. “she’s right. however, it’s actually a solid concept.”

beomgyu clutched his chest dramatically, leaning back in his chair like he had just been struck by an arrow. “oh my god. did the two scariest people in the student council just agree with me?”

jiwon, who had been slouching in his seat ever since his winter wonderland idea got shot down, straightened up slightly, interest piqued. “so… like those fancy, mysterious balls in movies?”

“exactly,” beomgyu confirmed, voice brimming with satisfaction. “dim lighting, chandeliers, intricate masks—people get to dress up and pretend to be someone else for a night.” he wagged his brows. “cool, isn’t it?”

taehyun ignored his theatrics, already scribbling down notes. “formal but not boring. atmospheric without being overly complicated. it works.”

you tapped a finger against your chin, pretending to deliberate. “hmm. it does sound good, but i don’t know, gyu. the fact that it came from you makes me a little skeptical.”

beomgyu gasped, feigning betrayal as he placed a hand over his heart. “come on, don’t you have faith in me?.”

you smirked, tilting your head. “oh, i have faith in you. just not in your taste.” “says the girl who still thinks vanilla ice cream is the superior flavor,” beomgyu shot back, eyes gleaming.

your jaw dropped. “what does that have to do with anything?”

taehyun, barely glancing up from his notes, murmured, “she’s right, though. it’s a classic.”

beomgyu let out an irked groan, throwing his hands up. “oh, so she gets a pass for being boring, but i make one suggestion and suddenly—”

“masquerade it is,” taehyun interrupted smoothly, tapping his pen against the page for emphasis. “it’s decided.”

beomgyu sat up a little straighter, his usual playful arrogance giving way to something softer—something closer to pride. he actually contributed something worthwhile, and he knew it.

you glanced around the table, noting the shift in energy. what started as a frustrating mess of half-baked ideas had finally settled into something concrete. something promising.

as the meeting neared its end, the room gradually emptied, leaving behind the quiet remnants of rustling papers and the faint echo of footsteps against the tiled floor. beomgyu was the first to sling his bag over his shoulder, stretching his arms high above his head with a satisfied groan. he looked far too pleased with himself, as if he had just single-handedly saved the winter formal instead of throwing out the most ridiculous suggestions until he accidentally landed on the perfect one.

“alright, my job here is done,” he announced, adjusting his strap before flashing a lopsided grin at you and taehyun. “don’t stay too late, lovebirds.”

“we are not—” you started, only for beomgyu to duck out the door before you could finish.

you let out a frustrated huff, but before you could dwell on it, jiwon stepped forward, his movements unhurried as he gathered his things. he lingered near taehyun’s side, adjusting the strap of his bag with an easygoing air, as if trying to find the right words.

“hey,” he started, offering a small, casual smile, “if you ever need help with anything, you can call me. you know, student council teamwork and all.”

taehyun, ever the picture of polite indifference, barely spared him a glance. “sure, noted.”

jiwon hesitated, clearly expecting something more—maybe a nod of acknowledgment, maybe even a small thanks—but when taehyun remained as detached as ever, he let out a short laugh, shaking his head as if to brush it off. “right. see you guys later, then. goodluck!”

and then, it was just you and taehyun.

the door clicked shut behind him, sealing your fate.

you exhaled, resting your elbows against the table before letting your forehead drop against the cool surface. “this is cruel and unusual punishment.”

taehyun barely looked up from his notes. “it’s called responsibility.”

you groaned. “i have plenty of responsibilities, thank you very much. this just happens to be the one i want to run from the most.”

“too bad.”

taehyun’s tone was frustratingly even, the very definition of someone who had already accepted his fate. you peeked up at him through your arms, watching as he methodically sorted through the remaining paperwork, his expression unreadable. it was strange. you were used to him being sharp, snarky, always finding ways to make your life harder rather than easier. but right now?

right now, he was just… doing the work. without complaint. without prodding.

you slowly sat up, watching him with narrowed eyes.

“okay, what’s your deal?”

taehyun finally looked up, raising an eyebrow. “what?”

“you.” you gestured vaguely at him, then at the neatly arranged papers in front of him. “you’re being helpful. like, actually helpful. it’s weird.”

his lips curled slightly, though the amusement didn’t quite reach his eyes. “i told you i’d help, didn’t i?”

“yeah, but not like.. this..” 

he huffed a quiet laugh, shaking his head before flipping through one of the documents. “you seriously underestimate me.”

“i seriously don’t.” you crossed your arms. “which is why i’m suspicious.”

taehyun sighed, tapping his pen against the table. “if it makes you feel better, i’ll handle the layout and catering logistics. you can start drafting the seating arrangements.”

you stared at him.

he stares back.

“…you already planned half of this, didn’t you?”

his silence was answer enough.

you blinked, momentarily thrown off by the sheer efficiency of it all. then, something flickered in his expression—something almost unreadable, something sincere—and suddenly, you didn’t know where to look.

“i told you,” taehyun murmured, his voice quieter now, as if he didn’t want to break whatever fragile moment had settled between you, “i’ll help.” you huffed out a breath, pushing aside the odd weight pressing at the edges of your mind, and refocused on the papers spread before you. whatever strange moment had just passed between you and taehyun—whatever flicker of something that had settled in the quiet between you—it didn’t matter. you had work to do.

the room sank into a silence that, against all odds, felt… natural. not suffocating, not strained, not heavy with the usual tension that came with being near taehyun for too long. it was a stark contrast to the earlier chaos of the meeting, the air now humming with something softer—less sharp edges, less sharp words.

it was almost unsettling how easily you both worked like this.

every now and then, one of you would break the silence.

“do we need to confirm the dj by the end of the week?”

“yeah, and the photographer too.”

or—

“should we let people vote for their own ball court, or do you think it’ll just turn into a popularity contest?”

“kang, every ball court is a popularity contest.”

for once, there were no playful jabs, no attempts to rile each other up—just efficiency. a rare, mutual understanding.

and yet, the hours dragged.

outside, the sun had begun to dip below the horizon, casting the room in streaks of orange and pink, elongating shadows across the table. the once-bright fluorescent lights above now felt too harsh, highlighting the exhaustion that had begun creeping into your bones. the weight of the day settled over you in increments—shoulders aching, head growing heavier, eyelids drooping ever so slightly.

then, as you were scanning through a list of venue restrictions, a yawn tore its way out of you before you could stop it.

taehyun’s head lifted at once. “tired?”

you blinked at him, rubbing your eyes as inconspicuously as possible. “no.”

his gaze flickered towardss you, sharp yet unreadable. “you should just go home. i can finish the rest.”

you scoffed, dropping your hand from your face. “what, and let you mess everything up? not on my watch.”

his brows raised slightly, the corner of his mouth twitching. “mess everything up? bold words, considering i’ve been handling student council work longer than you have.”

“exactly,” you countered, deadpan. “which means i know what you’re capable of, and frankly, it’s concerning.”

taehyun exhaled, shaking his head in mock disbelief. “you really don’t trust me with this, huh?”

“would you trust you?”

his lips curled, eyes glinting with amusement. “i trust myself way more than i trust you.”

you let out an exaggerated gasp. “excuse me?”

“you heard me.”

“taehyun, i carry the weight of this council on my back, and you know it.”

he let out a soft chuckle, leaning back in his chair. “right, because your world would fall apart if you admitted i actually help out around here.”

you narrowed your eyes, pointing a pen at him. “if you actually helped, i wouldn’t be here right now.”

“or maybe,” he mused, tilting his head, “you just like spending time with me.”

you nearly choked.

“as if,” you spluttered, eyes widening.

taehyun smirked, seemingly satisfied with your reaction. “so dramatic.”

you let out a groan, too tired to argue as you drag a hand down your face. “you’re insufferable.”

“and yet, you’re still here.”

“because i have to be,” you shot back.

he hummed, tapping his fingers against the table. “alright, then. let me—”

without thinking, your hand shot out, curling firmly around his wrist.

your breath caught in your throat, the moment stretching impossibly thin, charged with something you couldn’t name. your fingers were wrapped around the bare skin of taehyun’s wrist, his pulse thrumming steadily beneath your touch—warm, solid, real.

taehyun stilled.

for once, he looked just as caught off guard as you felt, his gaze flickering downward, lips parting slightly. you could see the exact moment realization dawned on him, something shifting in his expression, his breath coming just a fraction sharper.

but neither of you moved.

the air between you thickened, something unspoken curling into the space left behind by your bickering. your heart pounded against your ribs, so loud, you were convinced he could hear it. your palm burned against his skin, a sensation you weren’t sure was entirely physical.

you ripped your hand away, as if you had been scorched.

taehyun blinked at you, his expression unreadable, caught between something unreadable and something almost… curious. then, his lips twitched, the ghost of a smirk forming, though this one was softer—less teasing, more thoughtful.

“okay, okay,” he said, voice quieter now, almost teasing but not quite. “i’ll let you finish your own work.” you barely heard taehyun’s voice. barely registered the joyful lilt of his words or the soft chuckle that followed.

because something felt wrong.

not wrong in the way that set off alarms in your head—not danger, not fear—but something different. something foreign pressing against the edges of your awareness, unfamiliar yet impossibly warm. your wrist tingled, the sensation starting as a faint whisper beneath your skin before deepening into something more insistent, something that crawled up your arm like a quiet, lingering heat. it wasn’t painful, but it burned in a way that made your breath catch, a way that made your fingers curl against the table as if grounding yourself would somehow steady the sudden unease settling in your chest. your brows furrowed as the warmth pulsed again, slow and steady, like a heartbeat against your palm. for a second, you tried to ignore it, forcing your focus back onto the scattered documents before you. but the feeling refused to fade, refused to be dismissed as something inconsequential. it lingered, curling beneath your skin, insistent, waiting. a strange, quiet whisper of a sensation that made something stir uneasily in your chest.

your fingers twitched.

the urge to check clawed at you.

hesitantly, almost cautiously, you turned your palm over. your breath felt uneven, the steady rhythm of your chest rising and falling suddenly harder to control. your fingers flexed once, twice, before finally, with a sharp inhale, you reached for the sleeve of your jacket.

you hesitated.

just for a second.

then, slowly, you peeled the fabric back—

and you felt your breath hitch.

there, resting in the curve of your palm, was a single blue hydrangea.

it was small, delicate, impossibly soft-looking, its petals shimmering faintly with an ethereal glow. the light was subtle, barely noticeable, but it was there, a quiet pulse of something that shouldn’t be real. your eyes widen, your chest tightening, the air around you suddenly feeling too thick, too heavy, as if the weight of the moment itself was pressing down on you, demanding to be acknowledged. your fingers twitched again, hesitant, unsure, before finally moving—just barely grazing the petals. they were cool beneath your fingertips, soft as silk, fragile in a way that made your stomach twist. and yet, the moment you made contact, a warmth surged through you—different from before, deeper, curling through your chest, spreading outward in gentle waves, like ripples disturbing still water.

panic clawed at your ribs.

this wasn’t real.

it couldn’t be real.

cautiously, carefully, you lifted your gaze—

taehyun wasn’t even looking at you.

he was still focused on his own work, completely unaware of the storm unraveling within you. his expression remained neutral, his hands moving with practiced ease as he gathered the last of the documents, his posture relaxed as if nothing had happened. he hadn’t noticed the way you had frozen. he hadn’t heard the sharp breath that had caught in your throat. he hadn’t felt what you had felt.

you sat there, staring, mind spinning in frantic circles, barely registering the movement of his hands, the faint sound of paper rustling as he organized everything into neat stacks. he was still working. he had moved on.

your fingers tightened around your sleeve, pressing the fabric into your palm, concealing the impossible proof still resting there.

taehyun had no idea.

he hadn’t seen it.

but you had. suddenly, the way taehyun had been looking at you earlier—the way his voice had softened when he told you he’d help, the way his fingers had tapped against the table absentmindedly, as if waiting for something—felt different.

suddenly, the small, glowing flower sitting against your skin felt heavier than anything you had ever held.

your stomach twisted, fingers still curled tightly around your sleeve as you forced yourself to keep your expression neutral, to act as if your world hadn’t just been turned upside down.

but deep down, you already knew.

taehyun was your soulmate.

the chair scraped against the floor as you pushed back suddenly, the legs dragging loud and jarring against the quiet that had settled between you and taehyun. the movement was too sharp, too abrupt, and when you stood, a wave of dizziness hit you like a punch to the chest. taehyun’s head snapped up at the sudden movement, brows knitting together in something close to confusion. “where are you going?” his voice was steady, but there was a slight edge to it—one that might’ve gone unnoticed if your heart wasn’t already hammering in your chest. “i thought you wanted to stay?”

you swallowed, trying to mask the way your breath felt uneven, the way something inside you trembled like a frayed wire sparking against itself. “i—” your throat felt dry. you shook your head, barely able to string together a convincing excuse. “i-i just remembered i have something to do.”

taehyun’s eyes narrowed slightly, his gaze sharp and assessing as he leaned back in his chair. “really?”

you exhaled sharply, trying to pull yourself together, trying to keep your feet moving before you did something foolish. “yes, really,” you bit out, words a little too rushed, too forced. you took a step back, then another. “i should go.”

“now?” taehyun’s voice carried a note of incredulity, as if he was trying to make sense of the contradiction. just minutes ago, you had argued tooth and nail about staying, yet now, here you were, bolting for the door like something was chasing you.

you nodded once, stiffly, pressing your lips together. “yes. now.”

before he could say anything else, before the weight of his gaze could pin you down, you spun on your heel and hurried for the door. your heart thundered violently against your ribs, your pulse roaring in your ears, but you didn’t stop. you couldn’t.

the cool evening air hit you like a shock to the system when you finally stepped outside, your lungs burning with the weight of everything you had just run from. but even then, even with the distance now stretching between you and taehyun, your fingers curled instinctively tighter around your sleeve, as if the mere act of holding it close could somehow make the truth disappear.

but it didn’t.

because pressed against your palm, glowing softly beneath the fabric, the tiny blue hydrangea still remained. ꒰💐꒱ you couldn't sleep.

you lay on your bed, staring blankly at the ceiling, but the silence in your room was anything but peaceful. it was suffocating—thick and pressing, curling around your ribs like invisible vines, making it impossible to breathe. every time you closed your eyes, you saw it. that flower. delicate and impossibly vibrant, glowing softly against your palm as if mocking you. and with it came the realization you still weren’t ready to accept, the one that had rattled you so deeply you could barely think straight.

kang taehyun was your soulmate.

your stomach twisted, a cold weight settling deep in your gut. it didn’t make sense. it couldn’t make sense. the universe, fate—whatever cruel force had determined this—must have made a mistake. had to have made a mistake. because out of all the people in the world, why him? why the one person you could barely stand, the one person who got under your skin like no one else could?

a frustrated breath tore from your lips as you sat up abruptly, shoving your blanket off. you couldn’t just sit here, drowning in the sheer absurdity of it all. your fingers reached for your phone, unlocking it in one swift motion before you began typing furiously into the search bar, your heart hammering so loudly it nearly drowned out the quiet hum of the device.

how to break a soulmate bond?

your thumb hovered over the screen as you hesitated, an uneasy feeling creeping into your chest.

then you pressed enter.

your eyes scanned the results, fingers scrolling hastily, only for a sharp sting of disappointment to hit you when the answers all read the same:

soulmates are predetermined from birth.a soulmate bond cannot be unbound.a soulmate connection is permanent.

your grip on your phone tightened.

you tried again.

can you reject your soulmate?can a soulmate connection fade?is there a way to erase a soulmate bond?

but again, every response remained cruelly, infuriatingly unchanged. your chest constricted, heat rising to your cheeks as frustration built like a storm inside you. you hated this. hated the idea that some unseen force had decided your fate without your consent, tying you to taehyun in a way you couldn’t even begin to understand.

your pulse pounded in your ears, but you forced yourself to keep reading, scanning through endless articles, forums, old folklore—anything that might give you a loophole.

and then, finally, you found something.

your eyes locked onto a passage buried within a lengthy explanation on soulmate manifestations. the words swam before you, but you forced yourself to focus, breath catching as you reread the key line over and over again.

"the flower will continue to appear until the bond is acknowledged and reciprocated."

you swallowed hard, gripping your phone tighter.

"only through mutual recognition—through intertwined touch—can the cycle be broken."

a shiver crawled up your spine, slow and deliberate, like a creeping realization settling deep into your bones. the weight of it pressed against your chest, making it harder to breathe, harder to think past the overwhelming truth that had been forced upon you. your stomach twisted at the thought. as long as he didn’t know—as long as you never let your hands fully intertwine—he wouldn’t find out. the flower would keep returning, yes, but it wasn’t permanent. it wasn’t an unshakable mark of fate binding the two of you together in an irreversible way.

your breath caught as you hesitated, then slowly peeled back your sleeve, heart hammering wildly against your ribs. but when your gaze flickered down—

nothing.

the flower was gone. a sharp exhale left you, a rush of relief so sudden it nearly made you laugh. it wasn’t a mark you were doomed to wear forever. it could be hidden, erased, kept entirely to yourself. your fingers curled into a fist, as if trying to physically trap the secret away, to hold it tight before it could slip through the cracks and ruin everything.

taehyun didn’t have to know.

you could keep this to yourself. you could pretend it never happened. as long as you avoided direct contact, as long as you stayed careful, the truth would remain buried. and taehyun—your soulmate—would never have to find out.

the thought should have been comforting, should have eased the sick feeling that had settled in your stomach. but it didn’t. because no matter how much you tried to ignore it, push it down, pretend it wasn’t real—

the fact remained.

the universe had chosen taehyun for you.

and worse—

it had chosen you for him.

you exhaled slowly, pressing your palms over your eyes as if the darkness behind your lids could somehow erase the thoughts running rampant in your mind. it was useless—no matter how much you tried to push it away, the truth remained, lodged deep beneath your skin like a splinter that refused to be ignored.

still, you had to at least try.

dragging in a breath, you shifted onto your side, curling beneath the covers in a last-ditch effort to find rest, even if only for a few fleeting hours. the room was silent, save for the faint ticking of the clock on your desk, a reminder of just how little time you had left before the world would start moving again. you squeezed your eyes shut, forcing yourself to focus on the steady rise and fall of your chest, on the softness of the sheets beneath your fingertips. if you could just empty your mind, even just for a moment.

but sleep never truly came.

instead, you drifted in and out of a restless haze, thoughts tangling and unraveling like threads in your mind. each time you closed your eyes, you swore you could still feel the lingering warmth against your palm, the faint ghost of a touch that had changed everything. and before you knew it, the sun had already risen.

a sliver of golden light filtered through your curtains, painting soft, dappled shapes across your walls. you barely had time to register the shift before your alarm blared to life, the sharp, grating sound pulling you straight back into reality.

with a heavy sigh, you rolled onto your back, staring at the ceiling as exhaustion settled deep in your bones. the weight in your chest hadn't lessened overnight—if anything, it had only grown heavier, sinking deeper now that you had to face what came next.

school. preparing for the winter ball. more responsibilities.

and worse than that, taehyun.

your jaw tightened at the thought. there was no avoiding him. no ignoring his presence, no pretending he didn’t exist when he was the student council president, when you had to work with him to organize the ball, when he was everywhere. when, no matter how much you wanted to, you couldn't just erase him from your world.

but today, you had no choice but to pretend.

pretend like nothing had changed. pretend like you weren’t walking into the same room as the person you were now inexplicably tied to. pretend like he wasn’t your soulmate.with one last deep breath, you swung your legs over the side of the bed, steeling yourself for the day ahead.

as you got ready, the soft rustle of fabric filled the quiet of your room as you slipped into your jacket, fingers instinctively pulling the sleeves down past your wrists. you had always worn one out of habit, for comfort more than anything else, but today—it served a different purpose.

today, it was a barrier.

a thin layer of protection between you and the one person who could never know the truth.

your hands lingered for a moment, curling around the edges of your sleeves as if gripping them tighter would somehow ease the weight pressing against your chest. it didn’t. but still, you exhaled slowly, steeling yourself, before finally grabbing your bag and heading out the door.

as you got off the bus, the walk to school felt longer than usual. every step was heavy, your mind still tangled in the sleepless hours of the night before. the closer you got, the more you could feel it—that slow, creeping sense of unease settling in your bones, tightening its hold with each passing second.

but you kept your head low.

you had no interest in conversation. no interest in being perceived. the last thing you needed was someone taking notice of the way your mind was still reeling, the way your body was thrumming with something unsettled, something wrong.

“you in a hurry or something?”

your breath caught.

a voice. familiar. casual. far too easy going for how completely, utterly not easy this situation was. you didn’t have to look to know who it was. your fingers curled tighter around the strap of your bag, your knuckles turning faintly white from the force of your grip. as if holding on to something tangible could tether you, could anchor you to a reality that suddenly felt unbearably fragile.

his voice was light, threaded with that signature confidence that made your stomach curl uncomfortably.

"you practically ran out of the council room yesterday," taehyun mused, the curiosity in his voice so casual, so innocent, that it almost sounded like he wasn’t completely prying. but you knew better. taehyun never asked without reason. "thought you were so insistent on staying late and finishing up the work. kind of weird that you suddenly changed your mind."

your pulse stuttered.

so he noticed.

of course he did.

you forced yourself to keep your expression neutral, to fight against the tension creeping into your shoulders, the way your skin still buzzed with the weight of yesterday’s discovery.

"i changed my mind," you muttered, your voice clipped, carefully detached. "had more important things to do."

a hum. slow. drawn out. deliberate.

"oh?" taehyun says, his voice dipping ever so slightly, laced with a knowing lilt that sent an uncomfortable prickle down your spine. "that doesn’t sound like you. you never leave work unfinished, no matter how late it gets. if anything, you’d rather scold me for trying to leave early. i think that’s why it’s kind of… suspicious."

your fingers twitched. he was digging. picking at the cracks in your carefully composed exterior, sifting through the spaces where your walls weren’t quite thick enough. and you could feel it—the weight of his gaze as he examined you, silently cataloging every tiny inconsistency, every hesitation, every shift in your posture.

your stomach twisted.

he couldn’t know.

"look, i don’t know what you’re talking about," you said, feigning indifference, eyes fixed ahead. "i went home. did what i needed to do. end of story."

a silence stretched between you, thin yet impossibly dense.

"you’re a terrible liar."

the words were soft. simple. but they landed like a blow, striking something deep within you.

"seriously, what’s up with you?" taehyun continued, voice quieter now, softer around the edges, but no less insistent. his eyes were sharp, searching, tracing over your profile like he was trying to piece together a puzzle he wasn’t meant to solve. "you’ve been acting weird since yesterday. not just weird—weird in a way that actually bothers me. and that’s saying something."

your breath hitched before you could stop it, and for just a fraction of a second, your steps faltered.

it was slight—barely noticeable, barely anything—but taehyun caught it. of course he did.

his gaze sharpened, quiet and unrelenting, brushing over the rigid line of your shoulders, the tightness in your grip, the way your breath had become just a little too controlled.

"seriously," he pressed again, more deliberate this time. "what’s going on with you? you don’t usually avoid eye contact like this. or, you know, sprint out of rooms like you just saw a ghost." he was watching you. waiting. reading between the spaces of your words, searching for something—an answer, a tell, the truth.

and it was too much.

too much when your thoughts were still tangled in the ghost of a blue hydrangea, too much when the memory of it felt like a brand against your skin, too much when your own chest felt like it was caving under the weight of what you could not let him know.

"i told you, it’s nothing!"

the word came out too fast, too sharp, too frayed at the edges, spilling into the space between you like a crack in fragile glass.

"nothing’s wrong, okay?" you snapped, exasperation bleeding into every syllable as you finally turned to glare at him. "i don’t know why you’re so fixated on this, but if i say it’s nothing, then it’s nothing!"

taehyun’s steps slowed, just barely, but enough for you to feel it.

then, after a beat, his lips curled.

"there’s my girl."

the words were light, teasing, but something about the way he said them—low, warm, unbearably fond—made your breath catch in your throat.

your stomach flipped.

heat crept up your neck, curling at the edges of your resolve, licking at the barriers you had so carefully built.

"don’t call me that," you snapped, voice edged with irritation, but the way your chest tightened betrayed you. taehyun only grinned wider, unfazed. "why not?” you let out a scoff, shoving past him with a force that felt more like fleeing than anything else, quickening your pace towards the school entrance, desperate to put space between you, to shake off the warmth he left behind.

taehyun only chuckled, the sound rich with amusement, smooth and unbothered, trailing after you like a shadow you couldn’t escape.

as you and taehyun made your way towards the principal’s office, you could still feel the weight of his earlier words clinging to your skin. you forced yourself to set it aside, straightening your posture and steeling your expression as the two of you stepped into the office.

the principal greeted you both with a bright, approving smile, clearly pleased that the student council had taken the initiative to organize such an elaborate event. as you and taehyun pitched the ideas you had gathered from the meeting—the masquerade ball, the theme, the various activities planned—their expression only grew more delighted, nodding along enthusiastically.

"this all sounds wonderful!" he beamed, already reaching for the budget reports. "i'll grant you the funds you requested, and since this will require a lot of preparation, i'll allow you both to skip certain classes leading up to the event. just make sure to check in with your teachers and stay on top of your work."

you forced a polite smile, nodding in agreement, though internally, you grimaced at the thought of spending even more time with taehyun outside of your usual council duties. meanwhile, beside you, taehyun merely gave an easy, knowing grin, as if he could already sense your reluctance.

with the necessary approvals in hand, the two of you left the office and quickly made your way to find beomgyu and jiwon, easily spotting them in the hallway between classes. after explaining the situation, excusing them from their schedules, and going over the event details, the four of you gathered in the council room once again to divide the responsibilities.

"beomgyu, jiwon, you’ll be in charge of designing and putting up the promotional posters," taehyun started, his voice smooth and sure, as if he had already planned out the entire structure of the event in his head. "you’ll also be handling the setup for the photobooth and confirming everything with the dj and photographer."

beomgyu perked up at that, a spark of excitement in his eyes as he nodded. "oh, i have ideas already. don’t worry, the posters are gonna be a masterpiece." “so do i!” jiwon chimed in, nodding with a soft smile.

"good," taehyun said before turning to you. his gaze was steady, too steady, and you already had a bad feeling about what was coming. "that leaves us to handle the venue arrangements, the catering, and organizing the seating plans."

your stomach dropped.

"wait, what?" you blurted, brows knitting together. "why do i have to be paired with you? can't i switch?"

taehyun barely looked fazed, tilting his head in amusement. "because you’re the vice president, and i’m the president. it makes sense that we handle the major logistics together."

"but—"

"besides," he cut you off smoothly, a teasing lilt creeping into his voice, "you wouldn't want to leave all the important decision-making to me, would you? i might pick the absolute worst venue just to spite you."

you opened your mouth to protest, only to close it again when you realized he had you cornered. he knew you couldn’t let him handle this alone—not because you trusted his judgment, but because you absolutely didn’t.

your fingers clenched around the edge of the table before you finally let out a sharp exhale, shoulders dropping in reluctant defeat. "fine," you muttered, crossing your arms. "but if you make this unbearable for me, i swear—"

"i wouldn’t dream of it," taehyun interjected smoothly, lips quirking up in that ever-infuriating smirk of his.

beomgyu, watching the exchange, let out a low whistle, shooting you a look that was half amused, half pitying. "good luck," he mused, already turning towards jiwon to start discussing the poster designs.

as much as you wanted to drag your feet and stall for time, taehyun was already leading the way towards the computer lab, walking with that effortless confidence that somehow always managed to get under your skin. you followed begrudgingly, arms still crossed over your chest, every step weighed down by the unfortunate reality that you were stuck with him for this part of the planning.

the computer lab was mostly empty when you entered, save for a few students hunched over their screens, quietly typing away. the hum of the machines filled the air, the glow of the monitors casting a cool, sterile light over the room. taehyun wasted no time claiming a spot near the corner, settling into one of the chairs and gesturing for you to take the seat beside him.

reluctantly, you did.

"all right," he murmured, fingers already flying across the keyboard as he pulled up a search tab. "we need a venue that’s available in less than two weeks, big enough for the whole student body, and actually within our budget."

you scoffed, leaning back against your chair with an unimpressed look. "wow, really? i had no idea. it's not like i wasn’t at the meeting where we came up with this idea or anything."

taehyun barely spared you a glance, but you could see the corner of his mouth twitch. "just making sure we’re on the same page," he said smoothly, scrolling through a list of banquet halls. "i know how slow you can be sometimes."

your head snapped towards him, eyes narrowing. "excuse me?"

he hummed, feigning deep concentration as he clicked through different options. "i mean, it took you ages to realize you liked working with me. maybe this will take just as long." "i do not like working with you," you shot back, voice low and sharp.

"mhm," he teased, tilting his head. "whatever helps you sleep at night."

your fingers curled into fists as you resisted the urge to reach over and shove him off his chair. instead, you let out a long, slow exhale, rolling your shoulders before refocusing on the task at hand. arguing with him was getting you nowhere, and you refused to give him the satisfaction of throwing you off track.

"just focus," you muttered, pulling up a different search window. "we need to find a venue, not waste time on whatever nonsense is coming out of your mouth."

"you wound me," taehyun sighed dramatically, placing a hand over his chest. "but fine, i’ll behave. for now."

you didn’t believe that for a second.

the next minutes were spent in a tense yet oddly efficient silence, both of you scanning through listings, occasionally typing out emails or jotting down notes. but of course, peace was never meant to last when taehyun was involved.

"how about this one?" he asked suddenly, turning his screen to your direction. "it’s big, has great lighting, and look—it even comes with a dance floor."

you barely glanced at it before shaking your head. "too expensive."

"oh, so now you're frugal?" he teased, clicking his tongue. "you didn't seem to care when we were talking about decorations."

"because decorations actually matter," you retorted. "unlike whatever overpriced ballroom you're looking at right now."

"overpriced?" taehyun leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms. "you have no taste." "and you have no concept of budgeting," you shot back, matching his posture with a challenging stare.

he grinned. "fine. your turn. pick a place."

you turned back to your screen, scanning through the options until you found one that seemed promising—spacious, reasonably priced, and still available within your tight timeframe. with a victorious smirk, you veered your laptop in his direction. "this one."

taehyun hummed, skimming over the details. then, to your immense irritation, he shrugged. "eh. it's decent."

"decent?" you repeated, your eye twitching. "it's perfect."

"i don't know," he mused, dragging out the words. "it’s a little plain, don’t you think?"

"you're plain," you grumbled under your breath.

taehyun chuckled, shaking his head as he clicked on the venue’s contact page. "all right, i’ll admit—it’s not bad. let’s call and see if it’s available."

"thank you," you huffed, leaning back in your chair.

taehyun shot you a look, his smirk still annoyingly present. "see? wasn’t that fun?"

"you’re insufferable."

"oh, please," he said, spinning slightly in his chair, "we both know that’s not true."

you exhaled sharply, closing your eyes for a brief moment to collect what little patience you had left. taehyun wasted no time pulling out his phone, fingers tapping swiftly as he dialed the number listed on the venue’s website. you followed suit, opening your email and drafting a message to another potential location, your heart already sinking at the thought of waiting for replies.

"come on, pick up," taehyun muttered under his breath, tapping his fingers against the desk impatiently as the call rang. his expression remained neutral, but you could tell from the slight furrow of his brows that he wasn’t the biggest fan of uncertainty either.

you pressed send on your email, leaning back with a sigh. "i hate this part," you admitted, watching as the message disappeared into the abyss of cyberspace. "just sitting around, waiting, hoping someone actually gets back to us soon."

"patience, grasshopper," taehyun mused, shooting you a teasing glance before straightening when someone finally answered his call. "yes, hi," he said smoothly, his tone shifting into something professional yet casual. "i was wondering if your venue is available for a school event in—"

he suddenly went quiet. you watched as his lips pressed into a thin line, his expression darkening slightly.

"... oh," he said after a pause, voice flat. "i see. no, that’s fine. thanks anyway."

you already knew what had happened before he even ended the call. "booked?"

"booked," taehyun confirmed with a sigh, tossing his phone onto the desk. "for the next three months."

"great," you muttered, rubbing your temples. "just our luck."

"don't be so dramatic," taehyun teased, picking up his phone again. "we still have options. just gotta keep trying."

"yeah, yeah," you sighed, refreshing your inbox just in case. nothing yet. not that you expected an immediate response, but it didn't stop the impatience from creeping in. your fingers moved swiftly over the keyboard, the soft clicks filling the quiet space between you and taehyun as you sent out the last of your inquiries. with a sigh, you leaned back in your chair, rubbing your temples before glancing at him. "i'll start looking for catering too," you said, already pulling up a new tab. "no point in wasting time while we wait."

taehyun glanced up from his phone, his lips curling into an approving smile. "look at you," he mused, amusement laced in his tone. "so efficient. what would we do without you?"

you rolled your eyes. "fail, probably."

he chuckled, tilting his head as if considering it. "you might be right." then, before you could react, his hand lifted slightly, fingers reaching towards your head, the familiar motion making it painfully clear what he was about to do.

your body reacts before your mind fully processed it. panic surged through you, a sharp, instinctual jolt of alarm shooting down your spine as you immediately ducked out of his reach. your chair scraped against the floor as you leaned away, eyes widening slightly before narrowing into a glare. "don’t," you snapped, voice sharp with warning.

taehyun blinked at you, startled for all of a second before a slow, knowing grin stretched across his face. "wow," he laughed, clearly entertained by your reaction. "didn't realize you hated me that much."

you scowled, heat prickling at the back of your neck. "i just don’t like being touched."

"uh-huh," he drawled, unconvinced, but he let it go, instead leaning back in his chair with a smirk that made you want to throw your laptop at him. too bad you had nothing to reimburse the ruin if you did decide to do just that. "whatever you say."

you huffed, turning back to your screen with more force than necessary. ignoring the way your heartbeat was still uneven, you focused on scrolling through catering options, clicking on the ones that looked promising. taehyun, meanwhile, resumed his calls, his voice switching between polite and slightly frustrated as he dealt with yet another rejection.

"seriously?" he muttered under his breath after hanging up. "do people just book venues for fun? why is everything taken?" you barely spared him a glance, typing out another inquiry. "maybe the universe just enjoys watching you suffer."

taehyun exhaled a sharp laugh, shaking his head as he dialed another number. "if that's the case, then it really needs to get a new hobby." your lips parted slightly as a soft chuckle slipped out before you even realized it, the sound light and fleeting amidst the quiet hum of the computer lab. you didn’t dwell on it, simply shaking your head before shifting your focus back to your screen, fingers gliding over the keyboard as you continued to scroll through catering services, listing them down one by one in a growing document. beside you, taehyun remained engrossed in his own task, his voice occasionally dipping in and out of conversation as he made yet another call.

and so, the afternoon passed in a steady rhythm—clicks of the keyboard, the quiet murmur of emails being typed, the occasional sigh of frustration whenever another rejection came through. time blurred into an endless cycle of inquiries and planning, every second dedicated to ensuring the ball would come together despite the ridiculous time constraint.

but eventually, exhaustion began to creep in, a slow and subtle weight pressing against you. the lack of sleep from the night before clawed at your consciousness, your eyelids growing heavier with every passing moment. at first, you tried to fight it, blinking rapidly and straightening your posture, but it was no use. the lull of soft ambient noise, the gentle warmth of the room, the repetitive motions all pooled together into something dangerously lulling, and before you knew it, your head dipped slightly, your body leaning into the comfortable haze of rest.

meanwhile, taehyun was still fully engaged in his work, the tip of his tongue pressed against the inside of his cheek as he skimmed through his emails. his patience was wearing thin after what felt like the hundredth rejection, but then, his screen lit up with a notification, a new message appearing in his inbox. when he opened it, his eyes widened slightly.

"finally," he breathed, his tone shifting from weary to triumphant in an instant. then, louder, "we got one! a venue just confirmed they’re available!" but no response came.

taehyun furrowed his brows, turning his head slightly. "hey, are you—"

he stopped mid-sentence.

his gaze landed on you, and for the first time that day, he fell completely silent.

your body was relaxed, posture softened in a way he’d never seen before. your breathing was slow, steady, your lashes resting lightly against your cheeks as you remained completely still. the exhaustion you had been so clearly fighting had finally won, lulling you into an unguarded moment of peace.

taehyun’s lips parted slightly as he took in the sight before him, the sharp edges of his usual teasing demeanor smoothing out into something gentler.

his eyes traced the curve of your cheek, the way a few stray strands of hair had fallen into your face, shifting slightly with each slow exhale. for a fleeting second, his fingers twitched, the urge to reach out and tuck them away bubbling up inside him.

but he hesitated.

he knew you wouldn’t like that.

instead, taehyun simply sighed, a quiet, barely-there smile tugging at the corners of his lips. shaking his head to himself, he leaned back in his chair, voice a hushed murmur as he muttered, "maybe another time." ꒰💐꒱ the world around you was slow to come into focus. a quiet groan slipped past your lips as you sat up, stretching your arms over your head, your body protesting the hours spent slumped over in an awkward position. your fingers moved to rub the sleep from your eyes, the lingering haze of exhaustion still clinging to you like a thick fog. for a moment, everything was a blur—the dim hum of computer screens, the distant echoes of muffled footsteps from outside, the faint glow of the overhead lights. but as your mind caught up with your surroundings, realization settled over you like a sudden jolt.

you were still in the computer lab.

blinking away the remnants of sleep, your gaze drifted over the space, taking in the faint glow of the monitors, the scattered notes, and the quiet that had settled into the room like a thick, undisturbed blanket. it was late. way too late.

but then, as your eyes continued to wander, they landed on something—or rather, someone. just beside you, head tilted ever so slightly to the side, arms loosely crossed over his chest, was taehyun. asleep.

you stilled.

for a long moment, you simply stared, your breath caught somewhere between surprise and something far too unnameable to grasp. taehyun was never this still, never this quiet. he was all sharp edges and smooth confidence, all witty remarks and knowing smirks. yet, in this moment, every single ounce of that usual energy had melted away.

your eyes traced the softened lines of his face, the way his lashes rested against his cheeks, casting delicate shadows against his skin. his lips, usually curved into something smug or teasing, were parted just slightly, his breathing even and unhurried. he looked… peaceful.

your fingers twitched slightly against your lap, as if unsure of what to do with themselves. you had never seen him like this before, had never had the chance to observe him without his usual air of unwavering self-assurance. your body moved before your mind could even begin to comprehend what you were about to do.

it was irrational. reckless, even. completely devoid of the careful distance you had sworn to maintain between the two of you. but despite every screaming thought urging you to stop, despite the warning bells ringing furiously in the back of your mind, your hand was already moving, trembling slightly as it hovered just above taehyun’s skin, caught in a delicate hesitation that lasted all but a second.

and then, before you could so much as blink, before common sense could come crashing down like a tidal wave and pull you away—

your fingertips brushed against his cheek.

warm.

taehyun was warm.

so impossibly warm that the contrast against the cool air of the computer lab sent a shiver down your spine. it wasn’t much—just the lightest touch, barely there, fleeting like a whisper of wind. so delicate it could have easily been mistaken for a trick of the mind.

but it wasn’t.

because the moment your skin made contact with his, an all-too-familiar heat unfurled across your wrist—burning, spreading, blooming like ink in water. your breath caught in your throat, your entire body stiffening as realization slammed into you with the force of a freight train.

oh.

oh no.

it was happening again.

the hydrangea—it was back. you didn’t even need to roll up your sleeve to check. you felt it, felt the warmth seeping into your skin like an irreversible brand, a cruel reminder of the connection you were desperately trying to ignore.

your heartbeat stuttered, then picked up pace, pounding against your ribs like it was attempting to escape. what have you done? what on earth had possessed you to—

a shift.

a breath.

a quiet inhale, followed by the faintest stir of movement.

taehyun was waking up.

your stomach twisted painfully, panic slamming into your chest with dizzying force as his body tensed slightly, as his lashes fluttered ever so faintly, as the slow pull of consciousness dragged him from sleep.

you ripped your hand away as if burned, shoving it into your lap, curling your fingers into the fabric of your skirt in a poor attempt to ground yourself. but the damage was already done. you had been too late.

taehyun’s eyes cracked open, hazy with sleep, dark irises unfocused as they attempted to adjust to the dim lighting. for a moment, he looked dazed, blinking sluggishly, his expression lost in the remnants of slumber. but then his gaze settled on you.

still sitting too close.

still stiff with the remnants of panic.

taehyun’s brows furrowed slightly, a quiet breath escaping his lips, his voice still heavy with drowsiness. “were you just—?”

“no.”

the word shot out of your mouth before he could even finish his sentence, abrupt and sharp, too quick, too defensive. you barely resisted the urge to flinch at how obvious it sounded, how guilty it made you seem.

taehyun blinked again, sluggish and confused, his gaze flickering between your face and the way you were suddenly clutching your hands together as if you were trying to physically restrain yourself. his gaze lingered for a second too long, sharp despite the remnants of sleep still clouding his features, and then, as if a switch had flipped, his lips stretched into that insufferable, knowing grin—the one that always meant trouble.

taehyun sat up straighter, stretching his arms out with a low hum before tilting his head towardss you, expression brimming with mischief. “so,” he drawled, eyes glinting, “are you gonna tell me what that was about, or should i start guessing?”

“nothing,” you muttered, a little too quickly, shifting in your seat, fingers curling tighter around the ends of your sleeves, your grip near suffocating as you tugged the fabric down as far as it would go.

taehyun leaned in slightly, feigning deep contemplation. “hm, you sure? because it really seemed like—”

“it wasn’t,” you snapped, gaze locked stubbornly on the desk, anywhere but at him, anywhere but those sharp eyes that always seemed to see far too much. “just thought you had dirt in your face.”

“you’re a terrible liar.”

“and you’re annoying.”

“a little defensive, don’t you think?”

your grip on your sleeves tightened further, fingers curling so desperately around the fabric that your knuckles turned white, nails pressing in with enough force that they nearly pierced through.

taehyun simply leaned back against his chair, smugness dripping from every inch of him as he studied you with lazy amusement. “what, did you get tired of glaring at me and decide watching me sleep was more entertaining?”

your patience, already worn dangerously thin, snapped. “i told you, it’s not what you think!” you groaned, pushing yourself up from your seat and shoving your things into your bag with far more force than necessary, each motion sharp and hurried—zipping up folders with a little too much vigor, stuffing loose papers inside with no care for whether they crumpled or not. taehyun’s grin only widened as he watched you all but stuff your things into your bag, each movement hurried and brimming with frustration. you could practically hear the amusement dripping from his voice as he tilted his head, unbothered by your growing irritation.

“you know,” he mused, stretching his arms out as if he had all the time in the world, “you’re acting really suspicious right now.”

you rolled your eyes so hard it was a wonder they didn’t get stuck. “oh, please. if anyone’s suspicious, it’s you.”

“me?” he gasped, placing a hand over his chest in mock offense, though the effect was ruined by the barely contained smirk tugging at his lips. “i just woke up, and now i’m being accused? unbelievable.”

“yeah, well, believe it,” you shot back, zipping up your bag with more force than necessary. “you’re always up to something.”

taehyun hummed, resting his chin on his hand as he studied you with lazy amusement. “you’re deflecting.”

“you’re projecting.”

he let out a low whistle, shaking his head. “this is the worst attempt at changing the subject i’ve ever seen.”

your grip on your bag strap tightened. “maybe if you shut up, we wouldn’t need to change the subject at all.”

taehyun only smirked, his eyes glinting in that way that always made your stomach twist. “so, let me get this straight,” he says, tapping a finger against his chin as if deep in thought. “you’re telling me you really weren’t just staring at me while i was sleeping? because from where i’m standing, it really looked like you were admiring me.”

your entire body went rigid. “i was not—!”

“no need to be shy,” taehyun continued, his voice syrupy sweet, the kind of tone that dripped with amusement and a touch of self-satisfaction, tilting his head just slightly, leaning into your space like he was savoring every second of your frustration. “i get it. i mean, you don’t get to see me this peaceful that often. i must’ve looked pretty cute, huh?”

your jaw nearly dropped, lips parting in sheer disbelief at the audacity—the absolute gall—he had to say that with a straight face. “oh my god. shut up.”

taehyun gasped again, clutching his chest as if you had just personally wounded him, eyes wide with faux shock, though the mischief never left his face. “you were watching me, weren’t you? i knew it!”

your fingers curled around the strap of your bag, knuckles turning bone-white from how hard you were gripping it, the pressure grounding you against the unbearable mix of panic and irritation bubbling in your chest. “you know what?” you huffed, your voice sharp and clipped, already done with this conversation before it could escalate any further. “i don’t have to stand here and listen to this.”

without another word, you spun on your heel, movements stiff with frustration as you stormed towards the door, each step fueled by the desperate need to escape before he could dig any deeper into your flustered state. but, of course, taehyun was already up, barely missing a beat before falling into step beside you, effortlessly matching your hurried pace with infuriating ease. his laughter trailed after you like an ever-present shadow, light and teasing, his amusement practically radiating off of him.

“hey, don’t run away now,” he drawled, his voice laced with amusement, the playfulness evident in every syllable as he shot you a look that only made your irritation spike further. “i have more questions!”

you groaned, pressing your lips together in a firm line, refusing to dignify him with a response as you quickened your steps—but taehyun was right there, undeterred, his grin only widening as if he thrived on seeing you squirm.

as if sensing the utter exasperation radiating off you in waves, taehyun finally—mercifully—let the teasing subside, falling into step beside you without another word. you kept to yourself, keeping your gaze ahead, shoulders still slightly tense from the lingering remnants of his antics.

every now and then, your fingers twitched at your side before subtly moving to check your wrist, barely lifting the fabric of your sleeve as you stole a glance at the skin beneath. you weren’t sure why you kept looking, but each time, your stomach twisted with a strange mix of nerves and anticipation.

eventually, on what must have been your fifth or sixth check, you finally let out a quiet sigh, relief washing over you at the sight of bare skin. the soft exhale wasn’t loud by any means, but taehyun, ever perceptive, immediately picked up on it.

“what’s got you so relieved?” he chirped, his voice breaking through the quiet with an almost childlike curiosity.

you tensed for half a second before quickly schooling your features back into indifference, rolling your eyes as if to dismiss his question entirely. “none of your business,” you muttered, keeping your voice even, though you didn’t miss the way his gaze lingered on you for just a moment longer than necessary.

but instead of prying, which was something he would normally do just to get a rise out of you, taehyun simply smiled. not the usual smirk, not the playful glint of mischief, but something softer, something almost… fond.

“okay,” he said easily, like he wasn’t the least bit offended by your refusal to answer. the two of you walked in silence after that, the rhythmic tapping of your footsteps against the pavement filling the space between you. the air was crisp, carrying with it the distant hum of the city, the occasional rustle of leaves as the wind passed through.

after a while, taehyun spoke again, this time without any trace of teasing in his tone. “by the way, the venue’s set,” he said, glancing at you briefly before turning his gaze back ahead. “we got the confirmation while you were asleep. the deal’s all settled.”

you hummed at that, not quite looking at him as you muttered, “that’s good.”

another beat of silence stretched between you before something nudged at the back of your mind, something that had been lingering there ever since you had woken up in the computer lab. furrowing your brows slightly, you turned to him, your voice laced with mild confusion as you asked, “why were you sleeping too, anyway? you could’ve just gone home.”

taehyun barely blinked, as if he had been expecting the question. his expression remained as casual as ever, hands tucked into his pockets as he shrugged. “well, i couldn’t just leave you sleeping there all alone,” he said, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. “and i’m pretty sure you wouldn’t have liked it if i woke you up either, so…”

his voice trailed off, but the implication lingered between you. your steps faltered for just a fraction of a second, eyes flickering towards him instinctively, but he wasn’t looking at you. instead, he just kept walking, his expression unreadable, as if what he had said wasn’t anything significant at all.

the silence lingered between you, stretching with each step as the station gradually came into view. the sky had dimmed to a deeper shade of blue, the distant hum of the city settling into its evening rhythm. streetlights flickered on one by one, casting pools of golden light onto the pavement, their glow catching in the strands of taehyun’s hair as he walked just a little ahead of you.

you weren’t sure why, but you found yourself slowing down, your feet moving with less urgency now that you were nearing your stop. it was strange; usually, by this point, you would’ve been itching to part ways, to shake off the exhausting push and pull that always came with being around taehyun. but tonight, the usual exasperation felt… muted. replaced by something quieter. something you couldn’t quite name. taehyun was the first to break the silence.

“well,” he said, stopping just before the steps leading down to the station. he turned to you then, hands still tucked into his pockets, his smile softer now, lacking its usual sharp edge. “guess this is where we part ways.”

you blinked, caught off guard by the sudden finality of it. but before you could even think of something to say, he was already stepping back, tilting his head slightly as he regarded you with something unreadable in his expression.

“don’t stay up too late,” taehyun added, and though his tone remained casual, there was a quiet sincerity beneath it, woven into the way his gaze lingered for just a second longer than necessary.

your fingers curled around the strap of your bag, tightening for reasons you didn’t quite understand. “yeah,” you muttered, shifting your weight from one foot to the other. “you too.”

taehyun exhaled a quiet laugh, shaking his head as if amused by your halfhearted response. then, with one last glance, he turned, descending the steps with an ease that made it seem like this was nothing more than an ordinary parting.

but as you stood there, watching his figure disappear into the station, you couldn’t shake the feeling that something had changed. that, for the first time, you weren’t entirely relieved to see him go. ꒰💐꒱ the next few days blurred into a whirlwind of endless tasks, a relentless cycle of emails, phone calls, and meetings that left little room for anything else. mornings bled into afternoons, and afternoons stretched deep into the night, each one spent buried under an ever-growing to-do list. it felt as if the four of you were caught in the eye of a storm—one of your own making—drowning in preparations with barely a moment to come up for air.

the student council room had practically become your second home, its once neat and organized space now overrun with scattered papers, sample designs, and half-empty cups of coffee that none of you had the energy to clean up. rolls of fabric for table decorations sat in one corner, half-unfurled and abandoned, while poster drafts covered every available surface, some marked with hurried notes and others discarded altogether. the air was thick with the scent of paper and ink, the soft hum of printers and the occasional frustrated groan the only constants in the chaos.

beomgyu and jiwon were deep into their share of responsibilities, bouncing between designing promotional posters and confirming song choices with the dj. beomgyu, ever the perfectionist, went through what felt like a hundred drafts, grumbling under his breath every time jiwon pointed out a detail he had missed. their bickering became white noise at this point—background music to the madness—though, to be fair, it was nowhere near as bad as yours and taehyun’s.

because while the two argued over shades of blue and font choices, you and taehyun had the far more tedious task of finalizing the seating arrangements and catering. it meant making endless calls, negotiating over prices, and somehow fitting everything within the budget. it meant working side by side for hours on end, forced to cooperate despite how often you got on each other’s nerves. and somehow, even in the midst of all this exhaustion, taehyun still found the time to tease you—throwing in an unnecessary comment every chance he got just to watch your patience wear thinner and thinner.

"what would you do without me?" he mused one afternoon, stretching his arms behind his head as he leaned back in his chair. "actually, don’t answer that. i already know—this whole event would be a disaster."

you didn’t even look up from your laptop. "i swear to god, kang, if you don’t shut up—"

"what?" taehyun grinned, feigning innocence. "you’d miss me."

your glare could’ve set something on fire.

but despite all of it—the chaos, the exhaustion, the relentless teasing—the ball was finally beginning to take shape. details were falling into place, confirmations were being made, and the days that once seemed endless were now hurtling towards the event itself. there was still so much to do, but for the first time, it felt within reach. the halls of the campus were practically buzzing with anticipation, filled with the kind of excitement that only came around during events like this. everywhere you looked, people were either wrapped up in their own little worlds with their significant others or fluttering around in hopeful search of their soulmates, their eyes filled with that dreamy sort of longing. laughter echoed off the walls, whispered confessions were exchanged in corners, and the air itself seemed to hum with something light and intoxicating.

it was nauseating.

you rolled your eyes, a quiet scoff slipping past your lips as you adjusted the strap of your bag over your shoulder. the entire scene before you was so painfully cliché, it almost made your skin crawl. and yet, despite the irritation bristling at the back of your mind, there was something else beneath it—something quiet, something you didn’t want to name. a strange unease settled in the pit of your stomach, an odd sort of weight pressing against your chest.

but like always, you ignored it.

beside you, taehyun walked with easy strides, hands tucked into his pockets, the usual self-assured air about him. today, the two of you were heading out to check on the venue for the winter masquerade ball, making sure the decorations were all set and that everything was coming together smoothly. with only a few days left before the event, the pressure was starting to settle in, but for now, you were stuck navigating through the suffocating atmosphere of romance filling the campus.

taehyun, ever perceptive, caught the eye roll almost instantly.

"oh? what’s this?" his voice was dripping with amusement, and when you turned to look at him, he was already wearing that insufferably smug smirk. "jealous, aren’t we?"

your head snapped towards him, shooting him a glare sharp enough to cut through steel. "excuse me?"

taehyun only laughed, clearly enjoying this far too much. "come on, it’s okay to admit it. all these happy couples, all these people finding their soulmates just in time for the ball—" he gestured lazily at the scene around you. "i get it. it must be hard, watching all this when you’re still so tragically alone."

your lips parted, utterly scandalized. "i am not—" you sucked in a breath, fingers curling into your sleeves as you struggled to find a proper retort. "oh, shut up. just because you have nothing better to do than pester me doesn’t mean you get to act like you’re above all of this."

he hummed thoughtfully, tilting his head as if he was actually considering your words. then, with a completely straight face, he replied, "oh, but i am above all of this."

you groaned, throwing your hands up in exasperation as you quickened your pace, determined to put some distance between yourself and his insufferable teasing. but, as always, he was right there beside you, matching your steps with ease, his laughter trailing behind him like an echo.

the crisp winter air greeted you the moment you stepped outside, biting at the exposed skin of your cheeks despite the layers of warmth wrapped around you. the sun hung low in the sky, its golden light diffused by thin clouds, casting long, spindly shadows across the pavement like delicate cracks in ice. you barely spared a thought for the route ahead, already expecting taehyun to lead the way towards the bus station, except, when you glanced over, he was walking in an entirely different direction, his strides unbothered, as if this was the plan all along.

your steps faltered, boots scuffing against the pavement as you abruptly came to a halt, brows knitting together in confusion. your gaze followed his path, trailing after him as he moved further and further away from the usual route. "...where are you going?" you called out, your voice carrying across the quiet afternoon air, laced with equal parts bewilderment and suspicion.

"to the venue."

his response was casual, so effortlessly nonchalant that for a brief second, you thought you had misheard him. but he didn’t stop walking. he didn’t even bother to glance back at you, hands shoved into his pockets as he strode ahead with unwavering confidence.

you blinked. once. twice. then, as if compelled by some cruel force, you turned your head slightly, following the path of his footsteps until—

your stomach plummeted.

there, parked neatly along the sidewalk, was a row of bicycles, their metal frames gleaming coldly beneath the pale winter sun. they stood like silent witnesses to your impending doom, completely harmless to anyone else—but to you, they may as well have been a death sentence.

"you're joking," you deadpanned, your voice void of any amusement, the words falling from your lips like lead.

finally, taehyun turned his head just enough to flash you a slow, lazy grin, the kind that sent warning bells clanging in your head. "nope."

"you're going the wrong way," "nope," a sharp huff of disbelief escaped you, frustration curling in your chest as you hastened your steps to catch up with him. "taehyun," you said, his name leaving your lips like a warning, like a thread pulled taut. "the station’s that way." with a swift movement, you jabbed a gloved finger behind you, pointing at the correct direction as if he had somehow forgotten the most basic detail of your usual routine.

but taehyun didn’t so much as falter. instead, he merely hummed, finally coming to a stop beside the bicycles, his movements as fluid as ever as he bent down, fingers deftly unfastening one of the helmets before straightening back up. "and the buses during noon are either overflowing with people or completely nonexistent," he countered smoothly, his voice carrying that infuriating ease that told you he had already thought this through. "so, unless you’d rather stand around for an hour getting elbowed and shoved by strangers, we’re going by bike."

your breath caught in your throat.

by bike.as in, you would have to sit behind him. on the same seat. with your hands gripping onto him for balance. close. too close.

panic flared within you like a sudden spark, igniting a wildfire of dread that spread rapidly through your veins. this was bad. this was very, very bad.

your fingers curled at your sides, tightening into fists as you scrambled for an excuse, anything that would get you out of this. "absolutely not," you blurted out, the words spilling out in an instant, rushed and firm. "there is no way i’m getting on that thing."

taehyun finally turned to you fully, one brow arching in that insufferable way that made your blood simmer with irritation. "oh?" he drawled, tilting his head slightly, his lips twitching at the corners as if barely restraining a smirk. "what, scared you'll fall?"

"no!" you snapped, far too quickly, far too defensive.

his smirk widened, amusement twinkling in his dark eyes like a cat who had cornered its prey. "then what's the problem?"

you opened your mouth, ready to throw back a sharp retort, ready to argue—but nothing came out. because you had no real excuse. not one that you could say aloud, at least.

because what were you supposed to tell him? that if you got too close, if your fingers so much as brushed against his skin, the hydrangea might bloom? that if he saw it, if he noticed, he would know?

taehyun, of course, was not one to back down so easily. he tapped his fingers against the bicycle’s handlebars, pretending to contemplate something, his expression exaggeratedly thoughtful. "hmm," he mused aloud, his tone light, almost playful. "well, if i go by myself, i’ll just have to check on the decor alone." taehyun sighed dramatically, shaking his head as if the very thought was exhausting. "and you know what that means. one second, the decorations are fine, the next, they’re a complete disaster. bows tied the wrong way, color schemes clashing, centerpieces all tilted and uneven—" your eye twitched violently.

"you're doing this on purpose," you accused, voice tight, heat creeping into your tone as frustration bubbled dangerously close to the surface.

"i have no idea what you’re talking about."

your jaw clenched.

you inhaled sharply, a single, measured breath, before exhaling just as forcefully. then, with a muttered curse under your breath, you ripped the helmet from his hands, yanking it onto your head with far more aggression than necessary. the strap snapped against your chin, stinging slightly, but you ignored it, too preoccupied with the simmering frustration roiling in your chest.

taehyun simply grinned, utterly unfazed by your obvious annoyance, and with an easy flick of his wrist, he patted the seat behind him before nudging his chin towards it. “alright, hop on.” your entire body refused to move.

standing there, feet rooted firmly to the ground, you stared at the bicycle as if it were some kind of trap, a snare carefully laid out just for you. your fingers twitched slightly at your sides, curling inward, heart drumming steadily against your ribs as your mind whirred through all the possible ways this could go wrong.

if you got on, you wouldn’t be able to avoid touching him—not entirely. even the smallest brush of your skin against his, even the briefest moment of contact, could be enough. and if it bloomed, if the petals unfurled along your wrist, or worse, his—

you swallowed hard.

the helmet suddenly felt suffocating, its strap pressing against your chin as if trying to ground you, trying to force you into action. but you hesitated, standing frozen on the pavement, unable to shake off the overwhelming weight of uncertainty pressing down on you. taehyun notices. “what? don’t tell me you’re scared now,” he drawled, amusement still evident in his voice, but there was a flicker of something else in his expression—curiosity, maybe, or just the simple act of waiting.

you scowled, snapping yourself out of your daze with a sharp inhale through your nose. you couldn’t stand here forever.

gathering whatever was left of your resolve, you stepped forward, moving stiffly as you approached the bicycle. your movements felt painfully deliberate, like you were walking straight towards a decision you couldn’t take back. then, with a slow, reluctant motion, you lifted your leg over the seat, settling yourself behind taehyun, barely touching him.

your hands hovered uncertainly in the air, fingers twitching slightly as you debated where to place them. his shoulders? his waist? no. definitely not his waist. the thought alone sent a rush of warmth up your cheeks.

finally, hesitantly, you let your hands rest lightly on his shoulders, barely applying any pressure, as if keeping yourself from pressing too close would somehow change anything.

taehyun must have felt your hesitance, because he turned his head slightly, a knowing grin tugging at his lips. “you’re gonna fall off if you sit like that,” he remarked, his voice laced with something dangerously close to amusement.

“i’m fine.”

“mhm. sure.” he didn’t sound convinced.

then, without warning, he pushed off the ground with an effortless ease, his foot pressing against the pavement before the bike lurched forward.

the sudden movement sent a sharp jolt through your entire body, a startled gasp slipping past your lips before you could swallow it down. the world tilted for a split second, the ground beneath you no longer stable, no longer unmoving, and the realization crashed over you all at once—you were on a bike, with taehyun, and you were moving. Fast.

your fingers curled around his shoulders, grip tightening instinctively, and for a brief, terrifying second, you thought you felt something stir beneath your sleeve—a faint, barely-there sensation, like a whisper against your skin. but before panic could sink its claws into you, taehyun’s voice broke through the moment. "relax," he mused, his voice carrying that ever-present amusement, like he was thoroughly enjoying your distress. "hold on tight, yeah? don’t want you flying off."

your head snapped up, indignation flaring in your chest as you gritted your teeth. "don’t move so fast, idiot! you’re gonna kill us both!"

but taehyun only laughed, the sound warm and unbothered, like the very thought of crashing was so far-fetched that it didn’t even deserve consideration. the bike swayed slightly as he shifted his weight, adjusting the pedals with a practiced ease, and your breath hitched, grip tightening further.

"oh, come on," he sighed dramatically, though there was no mistaking the grin in his voice. "have a little faith, will you?"

you squeezed your eyes shut for a brief second, inhaling sharply as you willed your nerves to settle. the cold air whipped past your face, stinging against your skin, but that was the least of your worries right now, no, what truly had your heart in a vice grip was the fact that you were still on his stupid bike, still pressed far too close to taehyun, still painfully aware of every little movement he made.

you prayed silently, desperately to whoever was out there listening that you wouldn’t fall off to your untimely demise, that you wouldn’t end up sprawled across the pavement in a tangled heap of limbs and regret. but, more than anything, you prayed that your skin wouldn’t touch his. not even for a second. not even the faintest brush.

your hands remained stiff where they rested on his shoulders, fingers curled awkwardly, hovering more than gripping, as if maintaining even the smallest gap would somehow be enough to stop the inevitable. it was ridiculous. stupid, even. and yet, you couldn’t shake the fear that if your wrists so much as grazed against him, the delicate petals of a hydrangea might bloom in betrayal.

taehyun, of course, was completely unaware of your silent internal crisis. if anything, he seemed to be enjoying himself, weaving through the streets with an effortless ease, as if he wasn’t carrying the weight of someone actively trying not to touch him. the bike glided smoothly along the pavement, tires humming against the road, and despite the sheer panic buzzing in your chest, you had to admit—he was good at this. confident. steady. in control.

not that you would ever tell him that.

“you’re awfully quiet back there,” taehyun noted after a moment, his voice laced with amusement. "don't tell me you're actually scared."

you scowled, even though he couldn’t see it. “i'm not scared,” you muttered through gritted teeth.

"right," he drawled, clearly unconvinced. "is that why you’re holding onto me like i’m your last hope for survival?"

your cheeks burned. "i’m most definitely not—"

before you could finish, he suddenly shifted his weight again, making a sharp but controlled turn onto a smaller road, and you barely swallowed down a yelp, fingers tightening against his shoulders by instinct.

taehyun laughed, a full, delighted laugh that rang through the air like a bell. "see? told you to hold on tight."

if the threat of a hydrangea blooming on either of your wrists wasn’t dangling over you like a guillotine—if it wouldn’t immediately make it known to taehyun that you were soulmates—you would have already smacked him straight to the ends of the earth without hesitation.

but, as it stood, you could only grit your teeth and endure, willing yourself to focus on anything else, anything other than the warmth radiating from where your fingers clutched his shoulders, anything other than the way his laughter curled around you like an infuriatingly bright ribbon. thankfully, after what felt like an eternity of praying, of resisting the urge to strangle him, of cursing whoever decided bikes were a viable mode of transportation, the venue finally came into view.

and it was… perfect.

even from the outside, the building exudes elegance, standing tall with its grand, arched windows and smooth stone façade. the entrance is framed by a set of wide, ornate double doors, the deep mahogany polished to a gleam, reflecting the soft, winter light. despite the season, the space feels warm and inviting, as if it had been plucked straight out of a fairy tale and placed in the heart of the city.

the mere thought of the upcoming event—the swirling gowns, the mystery of masked faces, the way the night will undoubtedly hold something unforeseen—sends a strange sensation curling in your chest. something close to anticipation, but not quite.

you quickly shove the feeling aside, choosing instead to focus on the fact that you have, miraculously, survived the journey in one piece.

taehyun rolls the bike to a stop just outside the entrance, planting his foot down to steady you both before tilting his head back slightly. "see?" he hums, the smugness practically dripping from his voice. "told you i'd get us here alive."

you roll your eyes, exhaling sharply as you finally hop off his godforsaken bike, your legs feeling slightly wobbly beneath you. stretching your arms over your head, you try to shake off the lingering tension, as if that might somehow erase the memory of the past ten minutes clinging onto taehyun for dear life.

taehyun, of course, was completely unaffected, effortlessly swinging his leg over and parking the bike right near the entrance. you followed suit, brushing your hands against your coat, as if smoothing out invisible creases, before the two of you step forward, pushing through the grand double doors and into the venue.

and the minute you do, it's… everything. you step further into the ballroom, your gaze sweeping across the breathtaking transformation before you. for a moment, you allow yourself to take it all in—the warm, golden light filtering through the chandeliers, the way the sheer, icy-blue drapes cascade from the walls like frozen waterfalls, the way the entire space shimmers with an almost dreamlike quality.

it feels unreal. after all the planning, the endless meetings, the stress and exhaustion of making sure everything fell into place… it’s finally here. almost.

taehyun lets out a low whistle beside you, shoving his hands into his pockets as he surveys the room. “not bad,” he muses, tilting his head. “almost looks too good, actually. like if someone breathes wrong, the whole thing will fall apart.”

you scoff, “let’s hope that doesn’t happen, then.”

as if summoned by your words, one of the hired decorators suddenly calls out, struggling with a particularly stubborn garland that refuses to stay in place. without hesitation, taehyun strides over, sleeves rolling up as he offers a hand, his sharp eyes quickly assessing the situation. you follow, stepping in to adjust a centerpiece that’s slightly off-center, making sure every little detail is aligned to perfection.

but as you reach for the delicate arrangement, your gloves—thick and slightly cumbersome from the cold—made it difficult to adjust the smaller details. you hesitate, glancing down at your hands before exhaling softly. with a swift motion, you tug them off, tucking them into your coat pocket. bare fingers now meeting the cool surface of the table, you press forward, ensuring everything was as precise as possible.

it took a while, moving from one area to another, helping the staff tweak small things here and there—fixing a misplaced bow, adjusting the arrangement of fairy lights along the balcony railing, making sure the candles in the lanterns were evenly spaced. the chill in the air bites at your exposed skin, but you barely register it, too focused on making sure everything is just right.

but then, just as you’re adjusting the placement of one of the floral centerpieces, your fingers freeze mid-motion.

blue hydrangeas.among the delicate clusters of winter roses and baby’s breath, the soft, cerulean petals stand out like tiny fragments of the sky, woven seamlessly into the arrangements, as if they belonged there all along.

your heart stutters.

you turn to taehyun, pointing at the flowers, your voice carefully neutral. “since when were these part of the arrangement?”

he follows your gaze, eyes landing on the hydrangeas, before he shrugs with an easy, unconcerned expression. “i don’t know. added them to the mix since i thought they’d look really pretty.”

you swallowed, shifting your weight from one foot to the other, fingers absently curling onto the fabric of your coat sleeve. they were just flowers. nothing more. just a simple, aesthetic choice. that’s all.

and yet, you couldn’t shake the feeling that the universe was laughing at you.

at one point, you found yourself untangling a mess of fairy lights that had somehow gotten knotted beyond reason. your fingers worked through them carefully, but the knots were stubborn, refusing to budge no matter how gently you pried them apart. frustration bubbles up in your chest as you huff, brows furrowing in concentration.

and then, without warning, taehyun’s hands appear beside yours.

your breath stills, body going rigid, heart lurching into your throat as his fingers slip effortlessly into the tangled mess. for one agonizing second, panic flares beneath your skin—what if you touch? what if, just for a moment, his fingertips graze yours? what if—

but before the thought can spiral any further, before disaster can strike, he’d already flicked his wrist, unraveling the last of the tangles with infuriating ease, his hands retreating just as quickly as they arrived. "you're too slow," taehyun teases, a smug grin tugging at his lips.

you exhale sharply, a breath you hadn’t realized you’d been holding, forcing yourself to relax as you straighten. you narrowed your eyes at him, trying to will away the lingering tension in your spine, but before you could snap back with something equally smug, he was already walking off, adjusting the final row of lanterns along the walls like nothing had happened. time slips by unnoticed as you both continue, making minor adjustments, ensuring that every single detail was as perfect as it could be. and when you finally step back, surveying the entirety of the ballroom, it hits you—this is it. it was done.

everything was set.

with a slow, satisfied exhale, you turned to taehyun, who stood a few feet away, hands on his hips as he scanned the space with an approving nod. "not bad," he mutters, more to himself than to you.

"not bad?" you echo, raising a brow. "try amazing."

taehyun chuckles, shaking his head before motioning towards the stage. "c’mon, let’s sit for a bit before heading back. i think we earned it."

you don’t argue, your feet already aching from standing for so long. together, the two of you made your way towards the stage, slipping past the elegant centerpieces and rows of carefully arranged chairs. as soon as you reach the steps leading up to the platform, you drop down onto the edge of it, stretching your legs out with a quiet sigh. for a moment, neither of you spoke, simply taking in the sight before you. the ballroom, once a hollow, undecorated space, now glows under the golden hue of the chandeliers, the candlelight flickering against the polished floors, the sheer drapery billowing gently with the faintest movement of air. the hydrangeas—those damned, perfectly arranged hydrangeas—stood out among the floral displays, their deep blue petals catching the light in a way that made them look almost otherworldly.

it was beautiful. truly.

and yet, as your eyes flicker to taehyun, who sits beside you on the stage steps, you find the weight of his gaze is already on you.

your breath catches in your throat.

his eyes held a certain softness to them, something quiet and knowing, as if he had been watching you for longer than you realized. it sends a strange, unwelcome warmth creeping up your neck, and before it can spread any further, you quickly tear your gaze away, looking straight ahead instead.

"the flowers," you murmur, forcing the words out before the silence stretches too long. "they're really pretty."

you didn’t look at him when you said it. you didn’t dare.

but taehyun, who kept his gaze trained on you, only smiles—slow and fond, something unreadable flickering behind his eyes.

"yeah," he says, his voice impossibly gentle. "really pretty indeed." the silence stretches between you again, heavier this time, though you refused to acknowledge it. you kept your gaze fixed ahead, determined to avoid taehyun’s eyes, pretending that the steady warmth of his presence beside you wasn’t throwing you off balance.

you shift slightly, putting a little more distance between you. it wasn’t much, but it was enough to make you feel like you could breathe properly again.

and then, taehyun spoke.

"say…" his voice was casual, almost too casual, but there was a lilt of something unreadable beneath it. "do you already have your date for the winter ball?"

your fingers, still idly toying with the edge of your sleeve, still at his words. you scoffed, more out of reflex than anything, before rolling your shoulders in an attempt to feign nonchalance. "i’ll be too busy," you say, as if that was the most obvious thing in the world. "you know, making sure everything goes smoothly. unlike you, who’ll probably spend the whole night slacking off."

taehyun huffs out a laugh, shaking his head. "still have no faith in me?" he says, placing a dramatic hand over his chest. "and here i was, thinking you’d at least take a break to enjoy the night."

"not happening."

"oh, come on," he drawls, nudging your arm with his elbow. "you mean to tell me that out of everyone in the entire school, no one's lined up to ask the vice president to be their date?"

"i don’t know, kang," you deadpan, finally glancing at him, only to be met with his smug little smirk. "why don’t you take a wild guess?"

his smirk deepens, a flash of white against the dim glow of the fairy lights. “ouch,” taehyun drawls, tilting his head slightly as he watches you with playful intent. “so, what, are you just gonna spend the whole night running around, making sure forks are perfectly aligned or something?”

you let out a huff, crossing your arms over your chest, trying to ignore the way his teasing lilt sends an unwelcome flutter through your stomach. “someone has to,” you counter, lifting your chin in defiance.

taehyun hums, a quiet sound that vibrates in the space between you, and for a moment, his gaze flickers—just for a fraction of a second, like he’s thinking about something, weighing his words before he speaks. and then, after a pause that stretches just long enough to make you shift uncomfortably, he says, voice smooth, casual, yet somehow deliberate.

“well, if you don’t have a date… then go with me.”

the world seems to tilt beneath you. your breath stills, caught somewhere between your lungs, your entire body locking into place as if you’ve been turned to stone. the words didn’t register at first—not fully, not properly—because there was no way he just said that.

but then, taehyun’s eyes were on you, unwavering, unreadable, and suddenly, it was real.

your head snaps towards him so fast that your vision blurs for a second, a sharp jolt running down your spine from the sheer force of your reaction. “what?”

taehyun doesn’t laugh. he doesn’t smirk, doesn’t follow it up with some teasing remark like you expected him to. instead, he just looks at you, gaze steady, unwavering. there was something different in his expression—something softer, something that sent your heartbeat into an erratic, stuttering rhythm that you couldn’t seem to control.

he tilts his head slightly, brows lifting in the faintest hint of amusement, but his voice remains even, genuine, when he repeats, “be my date for the winter ball.”

and that’s when it truly sinks in.

taehyun wasn’t joking.

he wasn’t messing with you, not throwing out an empty invitation just to get a reaction out of you. he was asking—really asking.

your pulse pounds so loudly in your ears that you almost missed the way his fingers tapped idly against his knee, the only sign that he might not be as unaffected as he looked.

you stare at him, mouth opening, then closing, then opening again, but no sound comes out. your brain was short-circuiting, struggling to process this new reality, to make sense of the fact that kang taehyun—the sharp-witted, ever-teasing, infuriatingly smug student council president—just asked you to be his date.

and what’s worse was he was still looking at you like he was waiting for an answer. your throat feels dry as you blinked rapidly, the weight of his words settling over you like a thick, suffocating fog. you struggle to find your voice, to piece together a response that doesn’t make you sound completely and utterly unhinged, but all that comes out is a broken, stuttering—

“w-why are you asking me?”

taehyun stiffened, just slightly.

it was barely noticeable; the way his shoulders tensed for half a second before he exhales slowly, as if trying to compose himself. and then, just like that, the boy in front of you suddenly wasn’t quite as composed as before.

he clears his throat, glancing away for a moment, his fingers absently picking at an invisible thread on his sleeve. “well,” he starts, voice a little quieter now, a little less teasing. “i just thought… i mean, you’re always so busy with everything—running around, making sure everything is perfect, taking care of things no one even notices..”

taehyun pauses, pressing his lips together as if debating whether to continue, but then he sighs and pushes forward, gaze flickering back to you.

“i guess i just wanted you to have a reason to enjoy it, too. with me.”

his words hung between you, soft yet unbearably heavy. and maybe it’s the way he says it, so matter-of-factly, like it was the most natural thing in the world—like it was obvious, like it was something he’s thought about before.

maybe that was what left you speechless.

your lips part before you could stop them, the words slipping past your tongue in a breath, barely louder than a whisper—fragile, uncertain, like a secret not meant to be spoken aloud.

"that’s it..?"

the moment they left your mouth, you realized your mistake. taehyun stilled.

it was subtle at first, just a flicker of something unreadable passing through his eyes, a split-second shift in his posture, the faintest tension in his shoulders. but then the silence swells, thick and suffocating, pressing against your lungs like a weight you couldn’t shake off. your own breath falters, hitching ever so slightly, and you swore you could hear the soft, sharp inhale taehyun took in response.

he didn’t expect that.

and neither did you.

and you didn’t know what was worse—the fact that you let it slip or the fact that taehyun seems so thrown off by it.

his fingers twitched at his sides, just the barest movement, but you noticed. you noticed the way his lips parted slightly, as if he had something to say, only to press them together again, hesitation flickering behind his sharp gaze.

then, finally—

"do you really want me to say it?"

taehyun’s voice was softer this time, lower, laced with something heavier, something cautious, yet impossibly steady. his gaze never wavers, eyes locked onto yours with an intensity that sent a sharp jolt down your spine.

you didn’t realize you’ve stopped breathing until the air rushes back into your lungs all at once, too fast, too sharp. because he was close again, too close, and the space between you felt thinner than paper, more fragile than glass.

and as if the moment wasn’t already dangerous enough, he leaned in. not much, just a fraction, just enough to make the air around you shift, just enough that you could feel the heat radiating off his skin, just enough that you panic.

you shifted back almost instantly, pressing yourself further against the stage as if it’ll somehow create more distance, more space, more room to breathe. but all it did was make your flustered state even more obvious, the warmth on your cheeks burning deeper, spreading to the tips of your ears.

taehyun notices.

his eyes flicker, his lips twitch, and for the briefest moment, he almost looks amused—like he caught onto something, like he learned something. but there was something else beneath it, something more hesitant, more careful, as if he was testing the waters, as if he was waiting for you to stop him.

"do you really want to know why i asked you?"taehyun’s voice was impossibly softer, if that was even possible, barely above a whisper, yet it crashes into you like a tidal wave. your stomach twists, your hands curling into the fabric of your coat, as if that might somehow ground you, as if that might keep you from spiraling any further into whatever this is.

the space between you grew smaller, inch by inch, breath by breath. it was agonizingly slow, deliberate in a way that made your pulse pound against your ribs, making your breath hitch at the back of your throat. he wasn’t just leaning in, he was watching you—taking in every flicker of emotion that crossed your face, every shallow inhale, every unspoken thought that lingered in the air between you. you couldn’t do this.

the weight of his gaze, the closeness, the way his voice curled around the edges of something unspoken—it was too much. your breath was coming in short, uneven bursts now, your heartbeat hammering loudly in your ears, and you know, you know, if you stayed here any longer, if you let him get any closer, you were going to fall into something you wouldn't be able to climb back out of. so you move.

your legs pushed you up before you could think twice, a desperate attempt to escape the heavy pull of his presence. but you barely take a step before—

warm hands hold around your wrists. your world tilts.

not in the way it had earlier, when taehyun had sent his bike into motion and nearly launched you both into the afterlife, but in a way that felt heavier, deeper—like the very foundation of your understanding has cracked beneath your feet, sending you spiraling into something you weren’t prepared for.

because there, just above the place where his fingers wrap around your wrist, something was blooming.

not metaphorically, not in some abstract, romantic sense, but literally.

soft blue petals unfurled against your skin like a whisper, delicate yet impossibly real. a hydrangea, its blue hue rich and vibrant, appearing right where his touch lingered, as if drawn forth by the warmth of his hand against your bare wrist.

and before you could even comprehend it, before the weight of what’s happening can fully settle, you see it—

another one.

on his wrist.

a mirror to yours.

your breath stutters.

a sharp, unsteady inhale rushes through your lungs, but the air felt thick, too thick, like the moment itself was pressing down on you, sinking into your bones, refusing to be ignored. you couldn't move. couldn't breathe. couldn't  think. the world has shrunk down to this single, impossible reality, this moment suspended in time where nothing existed but this.

taehyun sucks in a breath.

his grip on you falters, just slightly, but it was enough. enough to tell you that he was feeling it too—the way the air has shifted, the way the ground no longer felt steady beneath your feet. and when you forced yourself to look at him, to really look at him, what you saw made your stomach twist.

he was frozen.

taehyun, who always had something to say, who teased and taunted and never hesitated to throw a playful jab, was speechless.

his eyes were wide, dark pupils blown with something unreadable, something teetering between disbelief and sheer, undiluted shock. his lips parted, then pressed together again, as if he was trying to find the right words but coming up completely empty.

he blinked once.

twice.

then, slowly, almost hesitantly, his gaze dropped back down—to where his hand still holds your wrist, then to where the hydrangea had bloomed against his skin.

the proof.

the impossible, undeniable proof.

you didn’t know how long you both stood there like that, suspended in the moment, locked in place by something you didn’t yet have the words for. the silence between you was deafening, thick and weighted, pulsing with something neither of you know how to name.

“what…” taehyun’s voice finally comes, but it was quiet. too quiet. fragile.

“what just—”

but he didn’t finish. didn’t have to. because the answer was right there, imprinted against your wrists, marking you both in a way that cannot be ignored. “you’re my soulmate?”you couldn’t speak.

you couldn’t reply.

you couldn't do anything.

the weight of reality crashes down on you with an intensity that made your head spin, your breath hitching painfully in your throat. the room suddenly felt much too small, the air thick and unsteady, pressing in from all sides as if the universe itself was forcing you to acknowledge the truth—the truth that had been lingering just beneath the surface for weeks, waiting, biding its time, until this exact moment. until now.

taehyun knows.

he finally knows.

and you didn’t know what was worse—the fact that you kept it from him, or the fact that deep down, a part of you had always known this moment would come. you had feared it, dreaded it, had told yourself over and over again that you were prepared for it, that you had built up enough walls to keep yourself safe when the inevitable finally arrived. but standing here now, under the weight of his gaze, you realize you weren’t prepared at all. your body refused to move. your fingers, still curled slightly from where they had almost—almost—reached back for him, felt like they were frozen in place, caught between instinct and hesitation. the silence between you was so thick, so deafening, it drowned out every other sound in the room, leaving only the frantic pounding of your own heartbeat, a desperate, uneven rhythm that betrays every attempt at composure.

taehyun was just as still, just as caught in the moment as you were. his expression was unreadable, his lips parted slightly as if he wants to say something but doesn’t know where to start. his gaze flickers down to his wrist, his breath visibly hitching when he takes in the intricate petals of the blue hydrangea, now settled against his skin like an unspoken truth that neither of you can deny. his fingers twitch once, twice, as though testing to see if the mark is real, as though part of him is still grappling with the weight of what this meant.

it was real.

it had always been real.

finally, after what felt like a lifetime, taehyun spoke.

“did you know?”

his voice was barely above a whisper, each syllable laced with a quiet, underlying emotion that you couldn’t quite place. there was no anger, no accusation, nothing sharp or cutting—only something softer, something careful, something almost hesitant. it was a question, but more than that, a plea, a desperate attempt to bridge the gap between you, to make sense of the revelation that had just unraveled before him.

but still, you said nothing.

your throat was dry, your mouth refusing to form the words that sat heavy on your tongue. your breath came in shallow, uneven exhales, your fingers on your other hand curling into the fabric of your sleeve as if that alone might keep you from falling apart.

and that silence—your silence—was all he needed to know. taehyun exhales, the sound slow and measured, but you saw the way his jaw tightens, the way his fingers pressed onto your skin before uncurling again, the way his entire posture shifted ever so slightly as realization settled deep into his bones. his face remained composed, but his eyes—his eyes that have always been so sharp, so piercing, so impossibly hard to fool—betrayed him entirely.

“why…” his voice faltered, catching slightly before he swallowed and tried again, this time more resolute, more certain. “why didn’t you tell me?”

taehyun took a single step forward, slow, hesitant, and careful in a way that made your stomach twist with unease. it was as if he was afraid that any sudden movement would send you running, as if he was walking on fragile ground, unsure of what might shatter beneath him.

you felt your breath catch, the air between you growing heavier, charged with an intensity that made it impossible to look away.

“how long have you known?”

your hands trembled, the weight of his words pressing down on you like a force you couldn't  escape. you swallowed hard, forcing down the lump in your throat, willing yourself to find your voice, to say something, anything.

“i…” the word barely made it past your lips before you had to clear your throat, forcing yourself to steady the shake in your voice. “since about… two weeks ago…”

taehyun breathed in sharply, his expression flickering with something you couldn’t figure out, something shifting, something unraveling. you watched as his gaze drops slightly, as though he was replaying every moment, every conversation, every fleeting glance from the past two weeks with a new understanding.

and then he laughs.

soft, breathless, light as air.

not in mockery, not in disbelief, not with amusement, but something else entirely.

relief.

taehyun’s shoulders eased, his posture relaxing just slightly as the realization settled deep within him. he lifted his free hand, pushing back the hair that had fallen into his eyes, before shaking his head with a quiet chuckle.

“i knew it,” he murmured, more to himself than to you, as if the words had been lingering in the back of his mind all this time, just waiting to be spoken. “so this was why… why i’ve always felt this… pull towards you… no matter how much you tried to push me away.”

his voice was filled with certainty, with something raw, something so achingly sincere that it makes your breath stutter in your chest.

because you know exactly what he meant.

that pull.

the way your eyes always found him in a crowded room, the way his voice had always cut through the noise, the way his laughter had always settled so easily in the spaces between you. the way his presence had always been something you could never quite shake, no matter how much you tried to ignore it and tell yourself that you hated it.

and now you both know why.

taehyun takes another step forward, closer this time, close enough that the warmth of his presence began to seep into your skin, making your pulse pound against your chest.

his hand lifts, his fingers brushing against your other one, just barely, just enough to send a spark of warmth racing up your arm. it was the softest touch, barely there, but it made your entire body go still.

he hesitated for only a moment before fully taking your hand in his.

you inhaled sharply.

his grip was firm but gentle, steady but careful, like he was afraid of pushing too far, like he was still waiting for you to pull away. his thumb brushes against the side of your palm, the warmth of his skin bleeding into yours, grounding you, anchoring you to the moment.

“you feel it too, right?”

your lips part, the answer right there, right at the tip of your tongue, so close you can taste it.

but then—

panic.

it surged through your veins like wildfire, swallowing you whole before you could stop it, before you could even try to fight against it. your chest tightened, breath shallow and uneven, and for a split second, the weight of taehyun’s touch—the warmth of his fingers wrapped gently around you—became unbearable. because if you admit it—if you said it aloud, if you give in, if you let yourself fall—there would be no turning back.

no running.

no pretending.

no more hiding behind the walls you spent so long building.

your fingers twitched, your entire body tensing as if preparing to flee even before your mind could catch up. taehyun’s presence was everywhere—his touch, his gaze, the quiet steadiness of his breath filling the space between you. it was overwhelming, suffocating in a way that had nothing to do with discomfort and everything to do with fear.

so you do the only thing you know how to do.

you yanked yourself away. the movement was so sudden, so desperate, that taehyun barely had time to react before you were stumbling back, ripping yourself from the warmth of his grasp as though it burnt. his hands slipped away from yours, the loss of contact immediate, startling, like stepping into the cold after being wrapped in the sun’s embrace. but the absence wasn’t just physical—it was something deeper, something that lingered in the air between you like a wound torn open too soon.

taehyun didn’t move.

his brows furrowed, the lines of his face tightening, a flicker of confusion passing through his wide, searching eyes. his mouth parted slightly, as if he was about to say something—to ask, to reach, to hold—but you didn't give him the chance.

you didn’t even give yourself the chance to think.

you turned.

your breath hitches, your pulse roaring in your ears as your legs move on instinct, on impulse, on fear.

and then you ran.

you didn’t stop, didn’t look back, didn’t let yourself process the way your vision blurs at the edges or the way your heartbeat pounded against your chest, each thud a deafening reminder of what you’ve just done. your limbs felt weightless yet heavy all at once, like you were floating through a dream you desperately wished to wake up from. your hands tremble at your sides, curled into fists so tight that your nails bite into your palms, a feeble attempt to anchor yourself, to ground yourself against the storm raging inside you.

but there was no grounding yourself from this.

there was no outrunning the way your soul ached, the way something inside you screamed at you to stop, to turn back, to look at him just once, just for a second.

but you couldn’t.

not when his words still echoed in your mind, wrapping around your thoughts and pressing against your lungs. you feel it too, right?

not when the memory of his laughter still lingered, warm and full of relief, the sound of someone who had just found something they had spent their whole life searching for.

not when you know—when you know—that if you let yourself turn back now, you will never have the strength to leave again.

so you kept going. you push past the door, your movements frantic, your breath coming out in broken, uneven exhales as you slipped away, disappearing into the night like a shadow retreating from the light.

and taehyun?

taehyun just stood there.

his hands were still outstretched, fingers curled ever so slightly, as if still reaching for something—someone—who was no longer there. his expression was blank, his chest rising and falling with steady, measured breaths, but his eyes—his impossibly expressive eyes—were frozen in place, locked onto the spot where you stood only moments before.

and yet, despite the stillness, despite the quiet composure he had always carried so effortlessly, taehyun looked shattered. ꒰💐꒱ the night felt endless. you lay in bed, eyes fixed on the ceiling, but sleep refused to come. the weight of your actions, of everything that had unfolded just hours ago, sat heavy on your chest, pressing down like an unbearable force. you tried to shut your eyes, tried to will yourself into oblivion, but every time you did, you saw him—saw the look on his face when he realized, saw the way eyes brightened like never before.

taehyun was happy. no, he was ecstatic.

you could still hear his laugh, that breathless, wondrous kind, like the world had just revealed its greatest secret to him. i knew it… he said, voice laced with something so soft, so full of relief, as if everything in his life had suddenly fallen into place. you had never seen him like that before—never seen kang taehyun, with all his sharp wit and unwavering confidence, look so utterly and completely at peace.

and then. and then you ripped it all away.

the moment your hands had left his, the moment your body turned, his joy had shattered. you had felt it, even with your back to him, even as you pushed past the door, as you fled like a coward. you had felt the shift in the air, the quiet devastation settling in behind you.

now, as you lay in the suffocating silence of your room, you wondered if taehyun was still standing there, staring at the empty space where you had been. wondered if he was replaying everything in his mind the way you were, trying to make sense of it, trying to understand why—why—you ran.

you squeezed your eyes shut, but it didn’t help. the memory of his expression—the way his brows drew together, the way his mouth parted just slightly in stunned disbelief—burned behind your eyelids.

the ache in your chest only grew heavier, sinking deep into your bones like a weight you couldn’t shake off. it was unbearable—this gnawing, twisting feeling of guilt, regret, and something else, something even more terrifying.

because it wasn’t just taehyun’s expression that haunted you. it wasn’t just the way his joy crumbled into confusion, into hurt, into quiet devastation—it was the way he had reached for you, the way his fingers had brushed against yours so gently, so tentatively, as if he was afraid you might disappear if he held on too tightly. and in the end, you did.

you saw the light in his eyes, the unguarded, unfiltered joy written all over his face, and you destroyed it.

a strangled breath left your lips as you curled in on yourself, pressing your hands against your chest as if that could somehow hold everything in, as if that could stop your heart from unraveling at the seams. the past few weeks—every moment, every lingering glance, every teasing remark that had felt just a little too soft—they all came crashing down on you at once, suffocating in their intensity. and morning arrived too soon.

no matter how tightly you curled into yourself, no matter how desperately you tried to will the world away, time didn’t stop for you. it marched forward, indifferent to the storm that raged inside you throughout the night.

you didn’t sleep a wink—you simply drifted, slipped in and out of restless, fragmented dreams, only to jolt awake each time with his voice echoing in your head, with the memory of his warmth ghosting over your skin. you turned onto your side, onto your back, onto your stomach, but no position, no adjustment, no desperate attempt to push the thoughts away helped.

so when your alarm finally rang, shrill and unforgiving in the silence of your room, you had no choice but to face the day.

your limbs felt heavy as you dragged yourself out of bed, exhaustion pressing down on you like a weight. the mirror was unkind, reflecting back dark circles beneath your eyes, the dullness in your gaze, the exhaustion carved into every line of your face. you moved through the motions of getting ready on autopilot—washing up, dressing, gathering your things—but the entire time, your mind remained stuck on one single, inescapable fact.

you would see him today.

you would step into the council room, and taehyun would be there. and you had no idea what would be waiting for you on the other side of that door.

was he angry? hurt? indifferent? did he spend the night thinking about it, just as you did? had he regretted it?

or worse, did he realize that maybe, maybe this whole thing had been a mistake?

your thoughts clung to you as you made your way to school, each step feeling heavier than the last. the usual morning sounds—the chatter of students, the rustling of papers, the distant ringing of a bell—faded into background noise as you moved through the halls, your heart hammering with each step that brought you closer to the council room.

and then you stepped inside.

you barely had time to take in the familiar sight of scattered documents, opened planners, and the faint scent of coffee before your eyes landed on him.

taehyun.

and he… he looked hollow.

the sight nearly knocked the breath out of you.

gone was the sharp glint in his eyes, the ever-present amusement, the effortless ease he carried himself with. instead, his features were dull, tired—shoulders slumped, gaze distant as he stared down at the papers in front of him, pen loosely gripped in his hand.

the weight in your chest only grew heavier as you hesitantly stepped further into the room, the familiar scrape of the chair against the floor sounding much louder than it should have in the suffocating silence. you lowered yourself into your usual seat, forcing yourself to settle, to breathe, to act as if everything was fine.

but nothing was.

because taehyun didn’t even look at you.

not a glance. not a teasing remark. not even the usual exasperated sigh when you made a little too much noise pulling out your notes. nothing. he simply remained as he was, unmoving, his gaze still fixed on the papers before him as if they held the answers to something greater, something deeper, something that could explain why.

and the absence of his attention, of his presence, of him—stung far more than you ever anticipated.

you swallowed hard, fingers curling into your lap, nails pressing into your palms as you willed yourself to keep your expression neutral, to not let the weight of your own guilt show. but the silence stretched, pressing down on you like a vice, wrapping itself around your throat until you thought you might suffocate under it—

“what’s with you two?”

the voice cut through the tension like a blade, startling you from your spiraling thoughts.

beomgyu.

you turned your head just slightly, enough to see him watching the both of you with furrowed brows, arms crossed over his chest. his gaze flickered between you and taehyun, sharp, calculating, observant.

beside him, jiwon leaned back in his chair, one elbow propped on the table as he arched a brow. “yeah, seriously. it’s weird in here.” he gestured vaguely between the two of you, lips pulling into a frown. “you guys didn’t, like, mess up the decor together yesterday and made a pact of silence, right?”

you flinched.

taehyun didn’t even blink.

beomgyu’s frown deepened. “okay, what the hell. what is going on?”

you spoke—too forced, too strained. “nothing.”

“bullshit.”

jiwon scoffed, nudging beomgyu with his elbow. “look, man, maybe they’re just in a bad mood.”

beomgyu didn’t look convinced. but taehyun didn’t give him a chance to press further, because before beomgyu could open his mouth again, he quietly cleared his throat, finally shifting, finally moving—only to stand from his seat, pushing his chair back with slow, deliberate movements.

“i need some air,” taehyun muttered, and just like that, he walked out, and now it was your turn to be left dumbfounded and hurt.

the days leading up to the ball passed in a blur, but the weight in your chest remained the same. if anything, it only grew heavier, sinking deeper into your bones with each passing moment.

and throughout it all, taehyun didn’t speak to you. to anyone, rather.

he wasn’t gone, not physically—he was still here, still doing his work with the same meticulous precision, still showing up early, still staying late. but he was missing in a way that was impossible to ignore, and the weight of it pressed against you, suffocating and relentless.

and it wasn’t just you who noticed. at first, beomgyu had been the most vocal about it. he had tried everything—nudging taehyun’s shoulder playfully, cracking jokes that usually earned him an exaggerated eye-roll or a deadpan retort, even deliberately messing up the seating chart just to get a reaction. but nothing worked. taehyun barely reacted, only offering the occasional hum of acknowledgment or a clipped, indifferent response before returning to whatever task was in front of him.

he had always been diligent, always the type to follow through with his responsibilities, but this was no longer dedication, this was detachment.

"seriously, what is his problem?" beomgyu had muttered under his breath one afternoon, throwing his pen onto the table with a frustrated sigh. he turned towards you then, his brows furrowed, gaze sharp. "he’s been acting like a ghost for days.”

your breath caught in your throat, fingers tightening instinctively around the clipboard in your lap.

jiwon, who had been watching the entire exchange with thinly veiled curiosity, shifted in his seat, drumming his fingers idly against the desk. "maybe he’s just tired,” he mused, though even he didn’t sound convinced.

beomgyu scoffed, shaking his head. "no. no, this isn’t tired—this is something else. he’s not just quiet, he’s—” beomgyu hesitated, frowning as he searched for the right word before finally settling on, “empty.”

and god, wasn’t that the truth?

taehyun had always been level-headed, composed, but never like this. never so distant. his sharp wit and effortless charm had dulled into something barely there, and the shift was so stark, so jarring, it left an undeniable hollowness in the air.

you wanted to say something, needed to say something. but what could you possibly say? that it was your fault? that you had seen the light in his eyes, the happiness that had appeared in his features when he first saw the flower on both your wrists, and how you crushed it beneath your own fear?

the weight of your own cowardice sat heavy on your shoulders, suffocating, unbearable. so you said nothing.

the ball was only days away. the decorations were finalized, the arrangements had been double-checked, and everything was falling into place, piece by perfect piece. and yet, for all that careful planning, for all the progress and preparation, everything still felt like it was falling apart. ꒰💐꒱ the night of the ball finally arrived.

golden lights illuminated the grand hall, casting a soft, ambient glow that seeped through the tall windows, flickering like distant stars against the darkness of the evening. inside, the sound of laughter and lively chatter drifted through the open doors, mingling with the faint melody of a waltz playing from within. everything was perfect—just as the council had planned, just as everyone had spent weeks ensuring.

but you simply stood outside.

your fingers curled around the delicate mask in your hands, the material pressing against your skin. the evening breeze brushed against your shoulders, carrying with it the distant hum of celebration, but you couldn't bring yourself to move forward, to step inside and immerse yourself in it all.

your dress, a simple yet breathtaking gown, clung to your frame in all the right places, accentuating without overwhelming, elegant without being extravagant. the fabric, a soft black satin that shimmered under the moonlight, cascaded down your figure in smooth waves, pooling ever so slightly at your feet. it was understated, refined, beautiful, and yet, despite how perfectly it fit, despite how much care had gone into choosing it, you had never felt more out of place.

you had spent days, weeks, preparing for this night. every detail had been planned, every decoration meticulously arranged. this was supposed to be a night of celebration, of triumph—a culmination of all the hard work the council had poured into making this event a reality.

but the thought of stepping inside, of weaving through the sea of masks and laughter, of pretending that everything was fine? it terrified you.

because you didn’t know how you would feel once you see him tonight. and perhaps, worse than that, you didn’t know if you even would.

your stomach twisted painfully, an ache that no amount of deep breaths could ease. would taehyun even be here? had he decided to stay away, just as you had considered doing? or would he be inside, blending into the crowd, masked and distant, just another face in a room full of strangers?

or would he be there, looking the same as always, standing in a corner with that quiet confidence, that knowing gaze, that presence that you could never quite shake, no matter how much distance you tried to put between you?

your heart pounded at the thought.

you had spent the past week avoiding his eyes, ducking away from his presence, watching helplessly as he withdrew further and further into himself. and yet, even as he distanced himself, even as the banter faded and the stolen glances disappeared, he never confronted you. never pushed, never asked for an explanation.

but tonight, there would be no desks between you, no schedules to hide behind.

if taehyun was here—if he sees you—then there would be no more avoiding it.

the weight of that realization sat heavy in your chest, pressing down, making it harder and harder to breathe.

you squeezed your eyes shut, willing yourself to move, to take a single step forward.

but your legs felt rooted in place, your body paralyzed by the what-ifs, by the uncertainty, by the unbearable truth that no matter how much you wanted to run, no matter how much you wanted to hide, you wanted to see him. god, you wanted to see him.

but did he still want to see you? taking a deep breath, you steeled yourself, gripping the delicate mask in your hands one final time before slipping it over your face. the satin ribbon tied keeping it in place felt tighter than necessary, as if it was binding you in place, but you refused to let yourself hesitate any longer.

with slow, deliberate steps, you moved forward, the soft fabric of your gown brushing against your ankles as you entered the venue. the moment you crossed the threshold, you were met with a breathtaking sight—warm golden light spilling from crystal chandeliers, illuminating a sea of elegantly dressed students, their gowns and suits shimmering beneath the glow.

a small smile ghosted over your lips, a rare moment of relief settling in your chest. this was it. after weeks of planning, after endless discussions and meticulous arrangements, the masquerade ball came to life. and seeing it unfold, watching as your peers twirled across the floor, their laughter ringing through the air, made all of the exhaustion worth it. it was beautiful.

as you weaved through the crowd, exchanging polite nods and returning greetings, a sudden poke at your shoulder made you pause. blinking, you turned on your heel, only to be met with a grinning masked beomgyu, standing beside someone whose presence, even behind an intricately designed mask, was unmistakable—soobin. their hands were intertwined, fingers loosely laced together, a silent testament to their bond.

“there you are!” beomgyu beamed, his enthusiasm practically radiating off him as he gestured wildly around the venue. “you have to admit, this is pretty amazing.”

soobin, ever the calmer presence, chuckled softly before dipping his head slightly in greeting. “congratulations,” he said, his voice smooth and sincere. “everything turned out beautifully. thank you for all the effort you put into making this happen.”

before you could even respond, beomgyu huffed, dramatically tossing an arm over soobin’s shoulder. “my idea, by the way,” he interjected, puffing out his chest in pride.

soobin, despite his mask obscuring half of his face, still managed to exude exasperation as he shot beomgyu a tired look. “i know, beomgyu. you’ve told me like a billion times.”

a quiet laugh left your lips as you shook your head, momentarily allowing yourself to bask in their familiar bickering. there was something comforting about it, something steady and unchanging. but just as quickly as that warmth settled, it vanished, replaced by a dull ache in your chest. because watching them—watching the ease in their dynamic, the way they played off each other so effortlessly—it only reminded you of one person.

your breath hitched, the tightening in your chest returning with full force. you forced a smile, pushing down the lump forming in your throat. “i should, um, check on the food,” you murmured, the words slipping from your lips before you could second-guess them.

soobin gave you a small nod, and beomgyu, thankfully, didn’t press further, only giving you a playful salute as you stepped away. with each step, your heart felt heavier, your resolve beginning to crumble once again.

you barely registered the laughter, the music, the clinking of glasses around you. all you could focus on was the overwhelming weight pressing against your ribs, the relentless pounding of your own thoughts. you shouldn't have come.

but then—

but then you saw him.

it was almost cruel how effortlessly your eyes found him, how no amount of dim lighting or the sea of masks could ever make him anything less than noticeable.

taehyun stood near the far side of the ballroom, a vision of effortless poise and sophistication. his suit was a deep shade of charcoal, tailored perfectly to his frame, accentuating the sharp lines of his shoulders and the lean definition of his form. the crisp white of his dress shirt contrasted against the dark fabric, and the black tie on his collar was neatly knotted, adding to the refined elegance of his appearance. but it was his presence—the sheer gravity of him—that made your breath catch.

his mask, sleek and simple, framed his eyes in a way that only enhanced their depth, making them appear even more calculating. the dim lighting cast delicate shadows over his features, highlighting the sharp cut of his jaw, the soft curve of his lips—lips that had once smiled so easily, so playfully, but now remained pressed into a thin, unreadable line.

you stopped in your tracks. you watched taehyun, unable to look away, unable to tear your gaze from the way he stood—poised yet distant, present yet entirely unreachable. the ballroom carried on around you, the music swelling, distant conversations rippling through the air, but it all faded into nothing as your eyes remained fixed on him.

his posture was impeccable, as always, shoulders squared, chin lifted ever so slightly, an image of effortless control. but there was something different now, something restrained in the way his fingers curled slightly at his sides, in the way his weight shifted subtly from one foot to the other, as if he were caught between the instinct to move and the need to stay still.

and then, as if he could feel your gaze, as if some invisible thread had finally pulled tight between the two of you—

his eyes found yours.

and the moment they did, something in the air shifted, as if the world seemed to narrow, the sounds around you dulling into nothing more than a distant hum.

taehyun’s stare widened just slightly, the faintest flicker of surprise betraying his otherwise composed expression. and god, was he taking you in.

taehyun was looking at you—truly looking at you. not like the stolen glances from before, not with the distance he carefully put between you these past few days. this was different. this was open, raw, something achingly vulnerable slipping through the cracks of his carefully built composure.

and the way he looked at you…

it was as if he had never seen you before.

as if he were discovering something entirely new, something he hadn’t realized until this very second. his gaze traced over you, taking in every detail, every curve of your form, every shimmering fold of your gown. his lips parted slightly, his breath hitching just the tiniest bit, and even with the mask covering half his face, even with the dim lighting softening his features, you could see it—the quiet, unspoken admiration that flickered across his face.

your heartbeat roared in your ears, your body frozen in place, unable to move, unable to breathe. neither of you stepped forward, neither of you dared to break the fragile silence that had settled between you, balancing on the edge of something terrifyingly real.

and then—

he blinked.

just once.

but when his eyes opened again, something was different. something had shifted.

taehyun’s throat bobbed as he swallowed, his jaw tightening ever so slightly. his hands twitched at his sides, his fingers curling inward like they ached to reach for something—for someone. you watched as a breath, deep and shaky, left his lips, his shoulders rising with the weight of it.

and then he turned away.

the moment shattered.

the spell broke.

before you could process it, before you could make sense of the way your chest constricted so violently at the loss, taehyun pivoted on his heel, his movements sharp, hurried. his polished shoes barely made a sound against the ballroom floor as he slipped past the sea of guests, weaving through the crowd with quick, purposeful steps.

he was leaving.your heart lurched, panic flaring in your veins, the shock of it slamming into your chest like a physical blow.

no.

your breath caught in your throat, the realization settling in all at once. he was running away.

and before you could stop yourself, before the fear could paralyze you, before you could make the same mistake twice—

you ran after him.

you pushed through the crowd, rushing between the clusters of students lost in conversation, their voices nothing but a muffled blur against the frantic pounding of your heartbeat. your pulse roared in your ears, your breath coming in sharp, uneven bursts as you dodged flurries of students and pressed forward, not caring if you stumbled, not caring if you brushed too roughly against someone.

taehyun was running, and you couldn’t let him get away. not again.

your fingers clenched at the fabric of your dress, lifting the hem just enough to keep yourself from tripping, but your feet barely felt the ground beneath you. all that mattered was him. all that mattered was the sight of his retreating figure, slipping past the grand archway leading to the open night air, disappearing beyond the cascading ivy that framed the ballroom’s second entrance.

the cool night hit you like a breath of fresh air the moment you broke free from the suffocating warmth of the ballroom. the murmurs of the crowd dulled, replaced by the soft rustle of the wind through the trees, the distant hum of music fading behind you. but none of it registered, not the chill against your bare skin, not the way your lungs burned from exertion, because taehyun was still ahead, his silhouette cutting through the garden’s moonlit paths.

the silvery glow of the moon bathed everything in an ethereal light, casting long shadows along the pathway, painting the world in hushed shades of blue and silver. the neatly trimmed hedges and delicate blooms swayed gently with the breeze, their fragrance lingering in the crisp air.

your steps faltered as you sucked in a breath, throat dry, chest tight—but you couldn’t stop now. not when he was slipping away again.

so you did the only thing you could.

"kang taehyun!!"

your voice cut through the quiet, sharp and desperate, carrying through the still night air.

and just like that, he finally stopped. taehyun’s steps slowed, hesitating, before finally coming to a full halt. your fingers curled into the fabric of your gown, gripping tightly, as if grounding yourself, as if holding on to the last bit of courage you had left. you didn’t trust your voice—not when your heart was still hammering like crazy, not when the ache in your throat made it impossible to swallow. but still, you forced the words out, soft, almost fragile in the way they broke past your lips.

"please..."

the sound barely carried over the distance between you, but it reached him somehow. you knew it did.

but taehyun remained unmoving.

his back stayed rigid, his shoulders taut, rising and falling in slow, measured breaths. he didn’t turn, didn’t even so much as flinch, as if he was willing himself to stay still, as if he was caught in the same unbearable moment as you, yet refused to acknowledge it.

the silence between you stretched, thick and suffocating, heavy with the weight of all the words neither of you had spoken. it clung to the air, to the space that felt impossibly vast despite the few feet separating you.

and then, after what felt like an eternity—so slow it nearly made you dizzy—he turned around.

taehyun’s body tensed before he shifted, hesitant, deliberate, as if caught in a decision he hadn’t quite made yet. the motion was almost careful, painfully slow, as though he feared what he would see when he finally turned to face you.

taehyun’s gaze met yours instantly, locking onto you with an intensity that stole the breath straight from your lungs. the silver glow of the moon framed his silhouette, casting soft shadows over his face, over the smooth planes of his mask.

and his eyes… they held something unreadable. something you couldn’t name, something tangled between a dozen emotions, flickering too fast, too fleeting for you to grasp.

but he was looking at you.

yet for the first time, you didn’t know if that was a good thing.

taehyun’s gaze never wavered, never softened, not even for a second. it was sharp, cutting through the space between you like a blade, dissecting, waiting. and you, standing beneath the weight of it all, feeling it press into your skin, into the marrow of your bones, suddenly felt small. exposed. self-conscious.

your throat tightened, the sudden awareness of yourself creeping in, making you shift where you stood. your shoulders straightened, your hands fidgeting at your sides, as if fixing your posture would somehow anchor you, would somehow make you feel like you belonged in this moment instead of drowning in it. your tongue darted out, wetting your dry lips, yet the words—whatever words you were meant to say—refused to come.

it was silent. painfully, deafeningly silent.

now that he was here, standing before you, now that you finally had him where you had been desperate to keep him—you didn’t know what to do. what to say.

"if you're not going to say anything, then i'm leaving."

taehyun’s voice cut through the stillness, low and cold, distant in a way that sent a sharp pang straight to your chest. it was piercing, impassive—so unlike him. where was the warmth? the teasing edge? where was the taehyun who never let a moment pass without a quip, a smirk, a knowing look? where was the taehyun who once made the air between you feel light, easy? the thought hit you so hard that it sent you stumbling forward, hands moving on instinct, reaching—desperate. and before you could stop yourself, before hesitation could creep in and steal this moment away from you, your fingers closed around his wrist.

a sight too familiar.

but this time, you weren’t the one running.

this time, you were the one trying to stop him.

"wait," the word barely came out, breathless, trembling. you let go of taehyun’s wrist, and then—then, the floodgates broke. "taehyun…"

his name wobbled on your lips, barely a breath, barely a sound, but it held every ounce of desperation clawing at your chest, every ounce of regret that weighed heavy on your shoulders. your throat tightened, a lump lodging itself deep within, suffocating, unrelenting, but you forced yourself to swallow it down. because if you didn’t speak now—if you let this moment slip through your fingers like sand—you knew you’d never forgive yourself.

"i’m sorry."

the words trembled, cracked, barely held together by the fragile threads of your unraveling composure. and yet, they still weren’t enough. nothing felt like enough—not for all the pain you had caused him, not for all the hurt you had left in your wake, not for the way you had looked into his eyes that night and still walked away.

"i’m so sorry, taehyun."

his name shattered from your lips this time, breaking somewhere between a sob and a plea.

"i was stupid. i was so, so stupid."

you inhaled sharply, hands curling into fists, nails biting into your palms in a desperate attempt to keep yourself from completely falling apart. but it was no use. everything was spilling over—emotions too big, too raw, too heavy to be contained anymore. "i didn’t mean to push you away. i didn’t mean to hurt you. god, i never wanted to hurt you." your voice wavered, cracking under the weight of your own words, and you squeezed your eyes shut for a fleeting second, trying yet failing to steady yourself. "but i did."

you exhaled shakily, forcing yourself to meet his gaze even as your own blurred with unshed tears. "i hurt you, and i was too much of a coward to admit anything." your fingers twitched at your sides, aching to reach for him, aching to grasp onto something—anything—that could ground you in the midst of the storm raging inside you. "i was scared," you whispered, voice barely above a breath, the admission tasting bitter, like guilt and shame and every unsaid thing you had buried deep inside yourself for far too long.

"i was scared because i didn’t understand it," a hollow laugh escaped you, but there was no humor in it. only pain. "because i didn’t understand you." you exhaled sharply, shaking your head as if that could erase all the years of denial, all the wasted time, all the moments you had spent pretending. "from the very start, taehyun, you made me feel things i had never felt before—things i didn’t know how to name, things that made my heart race and my hands shake and my mind spin and i—" your breath hitched, a sob catching in your throat, but you pushed through it, voice trembling. "i hated you for it. or at least... i thought i did."

you felt him stiffen, barely perceptible, but you noticed it. of course, you noticed it. your lips quivered, your hands clenched, and you forced yourself to take a step forward, closing even the slightest bit of distance between you. "but it wasn’t hate, was it? it never was," you whispered, voice softer now, gentler, but heavy with the weight of every unspoken word you had swallowed down over the years, every moment you had ignored, every glance you had forced yourself to look away from.

"it was fear."

you sucked in a shaky breath, blinking rapidly against the tears threatening to spill over. "you saw through me. you knew me—really knew me—even when i didn’t want you to," another step, another shaky breath. "and i hated that. i hated that no matter how much i tried to convince myself you were nothing more than a rival, a nuisance, an annoying presence in my life, i—" you exhaled sharply, voice breaking, barely holding yourself together, "i was wrong."

you were right in front of him now, so close, yet still, he hadn’t moved. he just stood there, staring at you, silent, unreadable, unflinching.

"i was wrong about everything," your voice wavered, barely above a whisper now, but the words carried the weight of everything—of every mistake, every regret. your fingers twitched at your sides before, finally, finally, you found the courage to reach out, grasping his wrists once more with trembling hands.

"i never should've left that night," you choked out, shaking your head, tears clinging to your lashes. "i should’ve turned back, should’ve looked at you, should’ve realized what was right in front of me." a single tear slipped down your cheek, warm against your skin, but you didn’t wipe it away. "i should’ve told you then," you hesitated, voice cracking, "i should’ve told you that it was always you."

the words shattered from your lips like glass, like something irreparable, something fragile and delicate and painfully, unbearably sincere. "it was always you, taehyun." your voice trembled, thick with emotion, thick with everything you had locked away for so long, and yet, for the first time, you weren’t afraid to say it. "and i’m so, so sorry it took me this long to see it." you sniffled, the sound barely audible over the pounding of your heart, a weight lifting off your shoulders with every word that had finally, finally escaped your lips. yet, despite the relief that came with your admission, fear still gripped you, sinking its claws into your chest, twisting deep. because this—this was the part that terrified you the most. not the confession, not the rawness of your emotions spilling over, but his response. what he might say. how he might look at you now. how he might—

taehyun moved.

and for a split second, panic seized you as he pulled away from your grasp, slipping from your trembling hands. your breath hitched, your body tensed, and your mind raced with the worst possibilities, already bracing for the moment he’d turn his back on you. already dreading the sharp sting of rejection. but he didn’t leave. he didn’t take a step back, didn’t let the silence stretch too long, didn’t let the space between you grow. instead, taehyun lifted his hands, reaching for you, cupping your tear-streaked cheeks in the warmth of his palms, grounding you in the way only he ever could.

your lips parted, a sharp breath escaping as his thumbs brushed over your damp skin, gentle, deliberate, erasing the remnants of your sorrow with the softest touch. your eyes widened, searching his face, drinking in the features you had spent so long memorizing yet never truly allowing yourself to admire.

and then, without a word, taehyun reached for the ribbon of your mask, fingers curling around the delicate material before he carefully, slowly, undid the knot and lifted it away.

your breath caught, the cool night air brushing against your now-exposed skin, and before you could react, he let the mask slip from his fingers, the sound of it hitting the ground barely registering in your ears.

but taehyun wasn’t done.

with the same tenderness, the same certainty, he lifted one hand to his own mask, unfastening it, letting it fall to the earth beside yours. and for the first time in what felt like forever, he smiled. not the small, hesitant smiles you had seen him give in passing, not the careful, guarded ones he wore when he was unsure, not the polite ones he had offered in fleeting moments. no. this was real. genuine. a smile that stretched across his face, lighting up his features, reaching his eyes in a way you had forgotten was possible.

"that’s it?"

his voice was warm, teasing, laced with something light and playful—something unmistakably him.

and the moment you heard it, the moment you saw that expression on his face, it was as if every last bit of fear, every last trace of doubt, melted away.

a breath of laughter left you, a mix of relief and disbelief, and before you could even think, before you could hesitate, before you could convince yourself otherwise, you surged forward—hands finding his face, fingers threading into his hair as you pulled him in, pressing your lips to his in a kiss that was everything.

the moment your lips crashed against his, it was as if something had burst open—years of pent-up emotions, unsaid words, restless nights, stolen glances, all unraveling in a single heartbeat. and taehyun kissed you back like he, too, had been waiting for this his entire life.

his hands, still cradling your face, tightened their grip, fingers digging into your skin as if he was terrified you might slip away again. but you weren’t going anywhere. not anymore. your hands slid up to his jaw, trembling, desperate, pulling him impossibly closer. the sheer warmth of him, the way he exhaled shakily against your lips—it was dizzying. intoxicating. you were drowning, and you never wanted to come up for air.

the kiss was frantic, a collision of breaths, sighs, and need. his lips moved against yours like he had something to prove, something to make up for, something he couldn’t put into words—but you understood. you understood in the way his hands fell from your face to your waist, fingers curling into the fabric of your dress, gripping like he needed something to hold on to, something to anchor him. you understood in the way he let out a shuddering breath when you tugged at his hair, when your fingers slipped into the strands, when your body pressed flush against his.

a sharp exhale left taehyun, something like a laugh, something breathless and wrecked, and then he was kissing you harder, deeper, like he wanted to consume you, like he wanted to make up for every second lost, every moment wasted. and you let him. you let him steal your breath, let him take everything you had to give, because god, you had been starving for this. for him.

his fingers traced up your spine, slow, deliberate, and you shivered at the feeling. it was overwhelming—the heat of him, the taste of him, the way he kissed you like he was afraid you would vanish if he stopped. your back hit the edge of the stone fountain behind you, but neither of you cared, too caught up in the way your mouths moved together, in the sheer desperation between you.

when you finally broke apart, foreheads pressed together, gasping for air, taehyun’s grip on you never loosened. his fingers stayed at your waist, his breath fanning over your lips, and when you opened your eyes, his gaze was already on you—dark, burning, fond. taehyun exhaled, a quiet, breathy sound that mingled with the space between you, and when he smiled—soft, real, yours—you felt something in you finally settle.

"so... you like me." he murmured, his fingers curling just a little tighter at your waist, as if he still didn’t quite trust that you were here, that this was real.

you blinked, still dazed, still trying to catch up to everything—everything you had just spilled, everything that had just happened, everything you had just done.

"kang."

"no, no, say it." taehyun grinned, the teasing lilt returning to his voice, but there was something softer beneath it, something almost in awe. "i need to hear you say it."

heat crept up your neck, the weight of his hands still lingering on your skin, his touch burned into your memory. "i just confessed my entire soul to you, what more do you want?"

"just three little words." his voice dropped slightly, his fingers brushing along your jaw, tilting your chin up ever so slightly. "for confirmation."

you groaned, tilting your head back, but the fondness in taehyun’s eyes, the warmth in his touch, the way he was looking at you like you were all he needed, it was unfair.

"i like you, taehyun." the words left you in a sigh, as if they had been waiting to escape all along.

"yeah?"

you rolled your eyes, but your smile betrayed your feigned annoyance. "yeah."

taehyun hummed, looking entirely too pleased with himself before he leaned in again, murmuring against your lips, "about time." “i like you too.”

꒰🧸꒱ @pagelets @hoefororeo @sbnslver @missychief1404 @brrytears @saejinniestar @imlonelydontsendhelp @urlocal-moa @melmochii @jettithink, @killa-1009, @j-ji-jia, @frankghgr, @usuallyunlikelyfox @sxmmerberries @napipope-ta @bamgeutori @xylatox @hyunj00 <3

this is 1/5 from a valentine’s event with other talented and incredible moas! click here to see the full masterlist <3

[miabebe]

Two Many Beds (Choi Seungcheol) Teaser

Reverse Trope Series Installment 1.5

Choi Seungcheol was your parent's best friend's son, the man you lived with for two odd years and the face you woke up to everyday but that didn't mean the two of you didn't have issues to navigate. After all, everything changed when one argument turned into two beds and seven days apart. Your only worry was that in all this, the distance it took over twenty years to cover, might just find its way between the two of you again....

Pairing - Choi Seungcheol x afab! Reader

Word Count- 3.4k for teaser (Estimated full fic WC - 13k)

Genre - Ah our sweet little idiots have gotten some issues so angst, romance, hurt/comfort, obviously banter cause it's these two. Oh and smut.

Warnings -smut, making out, cheol lifts reader, fingering (that's all for teaser, lots more coming in the full fic hehe)

A/n - Hello my loves, surprise surprise! This is super duper overdue - The love Too Many Beds gets to date still makes me feel so touched so I wanted to have a little something out for everyone who, like me, is so attached to our little idiots in love! If you want to be tagged in the full fic, please leave a comment below and if you want to be tagged in all fics of the series, then drop a comment on the taglist!

TUESDAY

You glanced at Seungcheol silently getting ready in front of the mirror. The man still doesn't know how to tie his tie. 

On any other day, he would've asked you to do it, looking down at you fondly while you worked the knot but today he just threw it on the bed with a frustrated sound and walked off. Sighing, you picked it up, folding it neatly, putting it on the rack.

Seungcheol also really loved to eat breakfast with you. Yeah it was his favourite meal of the day but what he really liked was watching you in the kitchen, humming and swaying around to the music as you cooked. You, of course, loved having his eyes on you first thing in the morning - more often than not, it was you who ended up on the table for him to have his fill. 

Today though, he barely glanced at the kitchen before he grabbed his bag, slipped on his shoes and closed the door behind him with a resounding slam. No kiss today. In the two years that you’ve lived together, he’s never not kissed you. 

Huffing annoyed, you threw your half eaten pancakes in the bin and followed his suit - grabbed your bag, wore your heels and slammed the door shut behind you. 

This was stupid. 

This whole fight was stupid. 

You didn't mean for it to escalate this far. What had been a casual statement that stemmed purely out of frustration had turned into a full blown Cold War. 

You picked up the photo of the two of you in your office, the one that you had framed, the one from your wedding. From your first wedding actually, when the two of you got sick of your parents fussing over the arrangements and simply flew to Greece overnight, getting married there, all by yourselves. You really love this picture - Seungcheol wearing a perfectly fitted white shirt, his arms wrapped around you from behind while you matched him, donning a white beach gown, a pretty crown of flowers on your head as you half turned to look at him, the two of you laughing. 

Being married to Seungcheol was.....like a dream. To be honest, you hadn't ever dreamt this was possible - that your parents best friend's son and childhood arch rival would be the one whose arms you'd wake up in everyday.

Again, except today. 

Today you woke up on the bed alone while he spent the night on the couch. Given how much Seungcheol liked to cling onto you in his sleep, you were habituated to waking up all suffocated, pulling away from his grip while he’d draw you back, snuggling in your arms, asking you for five minutes more. Sometimes he let you go in five, sometimes it became twenty, with two orgasms added. Either way, with him you always woke up hot, sweaty and mildly annoyed but you missed his warmth today.

You missed him terribly.  

But not anymore.

This had to end. 

Seungcheol didn’t expect to see you at home so early. 

Ever since your event management venture had started, you had been busy with the logistics of it all - hiring people, setting up the office, and dealing with your first ever event, your dear cousin’s wedding. That meant you often reached home around midnight, way after Seungcheol finished his dinner, when he would be slipping into bed. To see you in the kitchen, whipping up a meal should have been a pleasant surprise yet Seungcheol showed no change of expression - he simply threw his bag on the couch, changed into his gym clothes and left the house. 

Sighing, you grabbed his bag and slid it on the shelf in his office room. It had been years yet his habit of leaving things around hadn’t changed one bit. Neither did he - he was just as caring, just as in love with you and just as much your best friend as he had been since day one. It was you who was the idiot. 

Last night, even though you had come home earlier than usual, for some reason you were more exhausted than you had ever been. Seungcheol of course, like any doting husband, was happy to see you, pulling you onto his lap the moment you dropped on the couch, finding your lips with a long, much needed kiss. It wasn’t like you didn’t want to be intimate with him, but there was something weighing on your mind when you walked into the house, something you had been meaning to ask him. But before you could get a word out, gripping your thighs he lifted you in his arms, walking you towards the room. 

“Cheol, I wanted to ask you something.” 

“What?” Setting you on the bed, he hovered over you, pulling his shirt over his head. You were feeling unnaturally hot too, so you quickly unbuttoned your shirt and like he had been deprived for months, Seungcheol ravenously descended on your breasts, littering the curve of it with hurried kisses and bites. It hadn’t even been that long since the two of you last had sex… okay, it had been a week which was considerably long given how often you two got at it but you had been really busy launching your business, just like you were busy thinking about it now.  

“Cheol, listen to me.” 

“I’m listening.” He said but his hands worked on your pants, pulling them down as his mouth found your neck. 

“No you’re not.”

“Okay, fine, I’m not.” He sighed, slipping his fingers below your underwear, finding you wet between your legs. “But I’m also not going anywhere, we can talk after-” 

“But this is important-”

“So is this.” He muttered, sliding his fingers in slowly, pulling out a soft moan from you. “Fuck, I missed you baby.” 

Screw this man. Nothing made you feel as good as he did.

“I missed you too…” Holding his face in your hands, you kissed him softly, clenching around his digits. “F-faster Cheol.” 

Groaning he adjusted over you, putting himself in an angle that allowed him to slip another finger in, pumping them faster, curling them when needed.

“Oh god yes…” Forehead pressed against his, you felt your eyes shut as the knot deliciously tightened in your guts. Watching you ready to fall apart, Seungcheol found your clit with his thumb, the sensation of him rubbing circles making your walls flutter around his fingers, soaking them. 

“That’s it baby.” He whispered, encouraging you to ride it out, allowing you to grind your hips against his hand. “Come for me.”

And within minutes, you did, your orgasm washing you in waves as you wrapped your arms around your husband, nails digging into his back as the most wonderful sigh of relief left your being. 

Seungcheol chuckled as you held on to him, your breath fast and shallow. “Are you okay? You just seem so wound up these days, I thought this might help.” 

You grimaced as you let him go, allowing him to roll off you. “Yeah, work’s really been a bitch off late, which is why I-” 

“Shhh.” Seungcheol pulled you into his arms again, dropping a soft kiss on your head. “Just leave work behind for a bit Y/n. You’re home now, take a breather and relax.” 

“I’m not too tired or anything.” You pulled away from him, sitting up. “And I know I shouldn’t bring work home but the business is just launching and I don’t want to mess things up.”

“Hey,” Seungcheol followed your suit, sitting on his knees. “You won’t. You’re one of the most capable people I know, you got this.” 

You sighed. 

He was always so encouraging, he always believed in you so much. But maybe if he just listened he’d know the truth. He’d know you weren’t that capable after all. That things were messing up. That you really needed help. 

“How about you just-ow!” You shrieked as you shifted, trying to put some space between the two of you. 

Your hand had found that bumpy crack between both beds, slipping right in between it, the edges of the mattress grazing your palm.

Yes both beds - Unfortunately, you and Seungcheol had to bring the beds from your childhood in your parents' house because thanks to um certain activities, the comfortable king size bed in your master bedroom had effectively…. broken. Since then, the two of you had put together the two single beds you had grown up in, promising to go mattress shopping when you were free. It had been a month now but somehow, the time for it never came. 

“We really need a new bed.” You mumbled, rubbing your hand, moving away to your side. “It's been days since we slept properly.” 

Seungcheol hummed, half crawling towards you. “I told you, we didn’t need two, you and I can manage on one-”

“Cheol…” You let out a breath, knowing what he was approaching you for again. “You said we’d talk after-” 

“Yes after.” He smirked, pushing you back gently, hovering over you again. “But I’m not done with you.” 

Oh he was only just getting started. You could feel his erection pressing against your groin and considering it had been a while since the two of you were intimate, you knew it wouldn’t end anytime soon. Seungcheol had the tendency to go on for hours sometimes. 

Softly pushing him off, you turned away. “What if we spoke first and then continued-”

“You know I don’t like leaving things halfway-” 

“Yeah well you shouldn’t have started it in the first place-”

“You say that after you’ve had your turn.” He pulled you back, his chest pressing against your back, his mouth by your ear. “It’s too late to back out now baby.”  

“No it's not too late,” You wiggled in his grip. “We could just stop-”

“Nope,” Seungcheol smirked against your skin, his hand going between your legs again. “It's my turn now-”

“Cheol, I said stop!” 

You didn’t mean to push him with such force or for your elbow to land right in his stomach - all you wanted was to simply get away for a minute. Seungcheol looked at you wide eyed and surprised as you slid off the bed, buttoning your shirt again. 

“For God’s sake Cheol, I’ve been trying to talk to you for so long but all you want to do is have sex!?” 

Sitting up, Seungcheol looked confused, concerned and hurt all at once. “Y/n I… I thought-”

“How about you stop thinking and listen to me!” You exploded, glaring at him accusatorily. “I really wanted to talk to you Cheol, I wanted to share something but you just….” 

Pinching the bridge of your nose you turned away from him.

“Y/n I’m sorry…” You didn’t notice the way he winced, holding his abdomen as he slid off the bed, approaching you hesitatingly. “You seemed so stressed, I thought I was helping-” 

“The way for you to help was to listen to me!” You threw your hands in the air. “Do you have any idea how much pressure I am under? I’m trying to do something for us, for our future, but all you want to do is just…. it’s been barely a week Cheol, why is sex always the only thing on your mind?” 

“You…” Seungcheol looked at you like he couldn’t believe what you were saying. “You think this was about me? That sex is all I care about?” 

The moment those words left him, you knew you were wrong. Of course not, Seungcheol loved you, more than anything and you knew that. He was just trying to help - how was he to know that you weren’t just trying to vent like always, that you wanted to ask him if he could quit his job and join you in the business? How was he to know the severity of things? 

“I…” You turned around to him, finding him clutching his stomach, wincing in pain. “Oh my god Cheol, I’m so sorry-”

“Don’t.” He held his hand out as you approached. “Please don’t.” 

And with that, he walked out of the room, leaving you alone, regretting your words. 

That night, you tried to approach him again but Seungcheol was uncharacteristically subjecting you to silent treatment. You knew that wasn’t his way of working through things - Seungcheol was a mature man. He talked things through, he knew how to fix issues. The fact that he wasn’t having any conversation with you clearly meant that your words had hurt him beyond belief. Of course you were sorry about it, and you tried telling him that, many times, but he didn’t seem to listen. Instead, for the first time in two years of marriage, Seungcheol slept on the couch, away from you. 

You had hoped he would at least be more receptive to you in the morning but his cold behaviour continued and his stubborness irked you. Fine, if he was going to be such a child about this, so were you. But as the day progressed you realised how stupid it all was. You didn’t want to play tit for tat with your husband, you just wanted things to be normal with him again. That’s why leaving all your work behind, you wrapped up the last meeting of the day as quickly as you could and arrived home way before the sun set, making his favourite meal as an apology. 

But it seemed like he still didn’t want to hear it. He didn’t smile when you smiled at him. He didn’t smirk at you when your eyes ran down his water streaked, towel clad body as he stepped out of the shower. He didn’t even eat dinner - just donned his pajamas and got ready to sleep on the couch. Again. 

“Cheol,” You walked up to him as he threw his comforter on the couch. “I understand you’re mad but that’s no reason to avoid eating.” 

“I already ate.” His answer was curt. Hurtful. He would never forgo the chance to eat a meal made by you. 

“Cheol I’m so sorry about yesterday, you know I didn’t mean what I said, it was just in the heat of the moment.” 

Silence. That’s all he gave to you in return. Silence. 

You watched as he settled on the couch, turning on the tv, ignoring your presence. You could’ve just walked off. You could’ve just let your ego take over - after all you had been constantly apologizing to him since last night while he was behaving like a five year old. But at least one of you had to behave like an adult so you did, sitting on the floor before him, taking his hands into yours. 

“Cheol listen to me-”

“Y/n please, don’t do this, get up.” 

You ignored him. “Cheol I’m really sorry, tell me what I should do to fix this-” 

“First get up please, just…” He pulled you onto your feet, making you sit on the couch next to him. “You don’t have to apologise like that.” 

“Then what do I have to do to make things right again? To make us okay again?” 

“It’s….” Seungcheol sighed looking away. “It’s not you. I…. I was just thinking about things. I didn’t mean to seem cold.” 

“You ignored me all day.” You turned his head to you, glancing at him sadly. “You didn’t even kiss me goodbye…” 

“I didn’t know if I should.” He whispered, looking away. “I didn’t know what you’d think of me if I got close to you again.” 

“Cheol…” You could feel tears pricking your eyes. You had really hurt him. 

Throwing your leg around his waist, you climbed into his lap, wrapping your arms around his neck, hugging him tight. Too tight. 

But Seungcheol didn’t hold you back. 

“I’m really really sorry Cheol.” You muttered in the crook of his neck. “I’ve just been so stressed about work. I don’t know what’s wrong with me, it was not fair to take my frustration out on you.” 

When he still didn’t wrap his arms around you, you pulled back, holding his face in your hands softly. “I know it wasn’t just about sex, I know you were trying to help and I’m sorry I lashed out. Please just….. Please talk to me, we can talk it out-” 

“No, no I’m sorry Y/n.” He tucked a stray strand of your hair behind your ear. “I didn’t mean to shut you out, I just…was thinking about what you said and-”

“Please don’t.” You hugged him tight again and this time, Seungcheol hugged you back, placing a soft kiss in your hair. “Just forget what happened, okay? It was my bad, it was just in the moment.” 

You could feel him hum, his chest vibrating against yours as you held onto your husband, relieved to have finally put this behind you. The two of you sat like that till the sound of the rain hitting the glass with a soft pitter patter took over the silence and you drew back, looking at him with a small smile. 

“Come sleep in the room?” 

Seungcheol nodded, letting you go as you quickly slid off his lap and grabbed his bedding, heading to the room.

“You didn’t have dinner either Y/n.” 

“Not hungry!” You called back as you put the pillows on his side of the bed again. “I’m kinda nauseous actually.” 

Walking into the room, Seungcheol looked he didn’t believe you before his eyes fell on the bed you were making and he gulped. 

“Y/n I…”

You turned, looking at him confused. “What happened?” 

“I can’t do this.” He confessed, taking a step back. “I can’t…”

“But Cheol I apologised-”

“No, no.” He quickly approached you, noticing how your face fell. “You didn’t have to, you were right, I… I’m the problem-” 

“That’s not true-” 

“If helping you was what I wanted, I would've stopped after you were done but I...” He ran his fingers through his hair. “I didn’t listen when you kept saying you wanted to talk, I just kept going on, like some untamed animal-”

“Cheol stop it.” You reached for his hands, trying to talk sense into him again. “You know its not like that-”

“Do we?” He looked at you frowning. “How do we know I’m not some sort of crazy sex addict?” 

“Because you…what?” You looked at him like he wasn’t making any sense. Clearly, whatever went down last night was still not letting him think straight. “Cheol what are you saying?” 

“I just… I don’t want to sleep here.” He pulled away from you. “I don’t want to sleep with you till I know I’m…”

You let out a deep breath, shaking your head. “You’re being really unreasonable right now.” 

“I just want to prove to myself that it's… it's not all about sex.” 

“There’s nothing wrong in wanting to have sex with your wife!”

“But I also want it to be more! To listen to you, to look after you, to be there for you.” 

“And you think not sleeping with me is the solution?” 

“I’m not trying to solve anything.” Seungcheol insisted. “I just want to put some space between us…. Didn’t you say last night that it had only been a week? So just, give me another, I’m… just trying to see something for myself.” 

You blinked at him. You had so many rebuttals to counter him, so many things to point out that didn’t make sense. But you also knew Seungcheol well enough - there was no point arguing with him, not when he was so emotionally driven. The only way to do it was to give him what he asked - seven days. You could do that much, right? 

“Your back is going to hurt if you sleep on the couch for a week.” You crossed your arms, letting out a heavy breath. “You can just sleep on the bed. Nothing has to happen between us.” 

Seungcheol glanced over your shoulder, lost in thought. Then suddenly he walked over and grabbed the bottom of the bed, pulling the cot apart, turning one bed into two. You watched as he dragged it away, putting a considerable distance between the two of you. “Cheol….” 

“Just seven days.” 

You looked at him across you, sitting at a distance it had taken over 20 years for the two of you to cover. All you could hope was that the next seven days did not put a lifetime of distance between the two of you again. 

A/n- Ahhhh I'm so excited to have the full fic out! I didn't think I would ever continue the story for these two but not gonna lie, they're always on my mind hehehe Do leave your thoughts and comments - it'll truly push me to get the full fic out fasterrr

[leaawrites]

Good Graces (LN4)

Lando Norris x fem!reader

Summary: when he does something suspect, he has to live with the consequences. Unless he stays in her good graces.

Warnings: swearing, talk about insecurities, almost breaking up, fluff, a bit of angst, secret relationship

Wordcount: 1.8k

Masterlist, Short n'Sweet Series

She could tolerate a lot, she really could. But a line must be drawn before everything and a thin one can have contrasts like no other. White can turn into black in a mere second by one wrong step. Or one too much.

“You’ve been acting so weird lately,” Lando said, standing on the opposite side of the room. Hands on his hips and a sour look on his face.

The photos and the rumors were enough to make her mad, though she decided to keep quiet until she saw him in person again. Now, that he was home, standing in front of her, she cornered him the moment he walked into the apartment. Instead of a sweet kiss he was greeted by red eyes and a mad woman.

It wasn’t the first thing he said, it wasn’t even the second or the third. But slowly, with every question following the last, his worry turned into annoyance. The jet lag taking a tool on him. All he wanted was to lie in bed with his girlfriend and cuddle until it was all over, but she wasn’t having it. She could tolerate a lot, but him overstepping the line with every rumor he doesn’t shut down and letting people believe what was not true and only feeding into their take on his reality even more was becoming too much.

“I’m acting weird? You’re being out more with this girl than your own girlfriend at this point,” she defended herself. Tears threatening to spill once more. Spilling more of her feelings than she ever meant to reveal.

“I’m with you every second I can get off from work. I take time off from my sleep to talk to you no matter how late it is, what are you talking about?” His voice got harsher the more he talked.

“You know how I feel about you hanging out with her so much,” she tried getting her point across. “You know it and still you go on vacation with her! Fucking vacation, Lando! I wasn’t even there, I was working and had to find out over fucking Instagram.”

“I told you, that I was going with friends and you were fine with that!”Lando stepped closer to you, his arms flying around the air with every word he spoke.

“I thought it would just be Max or so.”

“Why are you so god damn insecure?”

When you overstep that line it’s hard to get back, but it’s easy to notice. It’s easy to notice to everyone involved. Lando notices as his eyes go wide, filling with guilt, noticing his stupidity. He started stuttering and stumbling over his words, trying to fight his way back but she wouldn’t let him. Not like that.

“Oh, I’m sorry that I actually care about this relationship,” she said, walking past his frozen body and towards their bedroom. “Seems like I’m the only one.”

Flowers and chocolates in the morning wouldn’t get her to soften at the mere sight of it, Lando knew that. He needed something more, something better and more validating. Something that truly showed he cared about them. And when she walked into an empty apartment the next morning with flowers and chocolate decorating the dinner table, she knew it would just be the beginning of a very long week of putting down her lover.

Messages were next, hundreds of texts and even more little letters hidden away in pockets or on his pillow when she woke up alone once again. ‘I love you’s’ or ‘I hope you’re having a great day’. Sometimes little drawing were next to the words, and sometimes he left a flirty comment. But after all it were just written words, not spoken ones.

“Maybe you’re expecting too much?” One of her friends said as Y/n complained to her about the situation and how Lando seemed to still not have time for her. It even seemed like he was just more distant now. Maybe she was too much. Maybe she wanted too much for a woman in love with a racing driver.

“I just want to feel validated,” she confessed, taking another sip of her drink. “Is that really expected too much?”

Maybe she expected too much from the wrong person, she thought as she laid in bed that night.

“Lando,” she called out once she heard the door to their apartment open. Footsteps stopping for a moment to listen carefully if he’d just imagined her calling out to him or if it was real. When she repeated it he finally closed the door and stepped into the living room.

Seeing his girlfriend up at this hour with her laptop prepped up on her legs and working, the TV playing some show or movie in the background. Glasses on her face.

“Hey, baby,” he greeted her, walking up to her and kissing her head.

Looking over her shoulder to see the screen in front of her filled with work stuff. Stuff she assumed he was never interested in. Truth been told, he enjoyed listening to her talk about her job. It felt like a completely different life in contrast to his. Nothing there was filled with paparazzi or strict diets and work-out plans. She actually had time off. Colleagues she didn’t had to fight with in order to keep her job. Colleagues that were completely different people on and off track. For her, it was all one straight, maybe with some curbs or turns on the way, but never too many for her to get as impacted by it as he did.

“What are you working on?”

“Oh, nothing important. Just lousy work stuff.” Shutting the laptop as he sat down next to her, she put it away to turn to him fully. She didn’t want to loose him, she really didn’t. But some things were meant to be spoken out loud, no matter the outcome. “I wanted to talk to you, actually. That’s why I stayed up.”

“What about?” He threw an arm over her shoulders, pulling her closer and resting his lips on her hair.

“I knew, I couldn’t talk to you in the morning because you’d already be busy when I wake up and after training and everything you’d pack your stuff, game a bit and then get ready for bed early to get your plane tomorrow.” She took a deep breath, sitting up and looking at him properly. “I want you to be completely honest with me and I want you to know I will not hate you, OK?”

“Baby, you’re scaring me. What’s up?” Lando looked genuinely, sickly worried. Sitting up straight to show his concern, taking her hands in his.

“If you wanna break up with me, say it. I can’t take more distance or confusion. I just want clearance and if that is us breaking up, I think it’d be better than dancing around each other as if we’re just roommates or some shit.”

His whole face dropped at the proposal, she could see it all unfold in front of her. His jaw went slack, his eyes grew wider and it seemed like all of the colour left his face the moment her words were spoken. “No, no, no, no,” he quickly said, taking her shoulder and rushing out every word he could think of. “I - fuck, no. That was never even a thought I had. God, please don’t think that. I was just so busy with everything going on at the moment, you know. The potential Championship and having to show that I deserved that seat at McLaren. I don’t want you to think that, ever. OK?”

“I just thought, maybe you were getting bored of me. With all the other stuff happening around you.”

“I could never get bored of you.”

If only there was proof to his words. Proof she could rely on. She was supposed to trust him blindly, so why did it seem so unbearable now? The thought of relying solely on one person and their words. He said that now, but what would be in a few years? What would be after another holiday she couldn’t accompany him on? What would be after another long, drunk night in a club he was in alone? Without her. All because of work, all because she couldn’t go with him and had to stay home. All to keep their relationship hidden and safe from the public. Only that it was breaking behind the curtains.

“I don’t think I can go on like this any longer,” she finally said what had been on her mind for weeks now. “I love you, I really do. But I can’t help but think that maybe we aren’t meant to be together for longer than now.”

“You’re being ridiculous.”

“I’m being ridiculous?”

He had to be kidding, right? He had to. How was she being ridiculous in this moment? All she said was valid, right? Right?

“How can you firstly think, that I’m gonna get bored of you, when you’re literally the most interesting, funniest, most beautiful person, I’ve ever met. Secondly, I believe I have a word to say about this relationship and it’s future as well. I hated the thought of sharing you with the public and all it’s opinions. But the more I thought about it, I don’t hate showing you off.”

“Hold up.” She put her hands up to make him stop talking, looking at him directly and serious. “What are you trying to say? I’d like a short summary of the whole speech and all I haven’t yet heard, of course.”

“Of course,” he nodded with a smile on his face. “Y/n Y/l/n, I love you and if you’re willing to, I would like to make you my publicly known girlfriend.”

“I think I’m gonna faint actually,” she joked with a still rather straight face. “Are you being serious?”

“You can take Thursday and Friday off of work and come with me and Max on his private jet. Kelly said she missed you, so that would be the prefect opportunity for you to catch up and meet all the others. I’d be perfect,” he started rambling his already made up plan. A huge smile covering his face and excitement radiating from him not going unnoticed by no one. “What do you say?”

“I-,” she started talking, but quickly cleared her throat when her voice went an octave higher than normally. “Yeah, I’d love to. I’ve thought about it as well, actually. I know it could be hard, but I’m willing to go through that, with you.”

Capturing her lips with his, she knew this was worth it. The sole feeling of him against her was enough to make was between them worth fighting for. A simple touch and he made her feel whole, and vice versa.

Pulling away from his lips, she pointed her finger at him, “But I swear, you do something suspect and you can kiss my ass goodbye. I’m not kidding.”

“Me neither, baby. Me neither.”

[elodieunderglass]

I hope your evening is better than your day was. ✨💫

In reference to me haggardly saying in the tags that after the day I’d had, everything (horrible things with legs) that my loved ones (you guys) were doing to heal me (send me horrible things with legs) was a help. And it was. And you are.

It was a tough old month already. But it’s all swings-and-roundabouts, snakes-and-ladders, win-some-lose-some, 🫴🫳.

I sleep about 9 hours in 48 at the moment, which is not especially great, owing to the Wretchedness of Mouse (2), a largely nocturnal animal. But then when Mouse is awake at Mouse o’Clock and quietly pottering around on Mouse Business, there isn’t much I can usefully do, so I’m just curled up with Dr Glass’s tablet, peacefully drawing Killie the jockey OC. As a result I’ve realised something massive for me, that my creativity is THERE, but fuelled by self-indulgence! Like, with stuff like fanfic projects and Killie, there was always a lot of “mental braking” on before, with me anticipating (based on evidence experience of posting my writing online for mumblety-many years) how much people would dislike it - put the brakes on, Elodie, we can’t let the haters know that we yearn. But hey, I started rambling on about fics and my own OCs, and YES it’s probably startling and annoying for some people and I do apologise, but ALSO you’ve all been very kind, and I think that it’s better for me to have the brakes off. 4 am takes notwithstanding, it’s better to have the brakes off. So what if I’m cringe and occasionally annoying - I have paid my dues and done my duties.

The new shed at the allotment blew down, but we have been forgiven for our carelessness in allowing it to happen, and two people on the committee have approached me with kindness - one committee member even stopping me in a shop to tell me, “people want to help you, Elodie, we’re your friends, you know.” Citation needed, but there you go.

Saturdays are always made especially for me dreadful by taking children to swimming lessons, on foot both ways, but usually we walk on to meet friends for coffee after. I go out with my friends and play board games with our neighbours and have learned how to play Wingspan.

Dr Glass received an official diagnosis of ME, but I bought a robot vacuum in the strength of that - saying, well, why assume things will ever get easier? Let’s get easy now! - and actually I really like having a robot vacuum!!

There have been more causes than I could help with, but my promotion has strengthened the coffers, so this month I’ve been able to donate to a few!

Due to childcare falling through, I had to take all three kids to an antifash protest in the cold and was dreading it - the walking, the whining, is it going to be awkward, i trust the organisers but HE’S not bringing his kids, GOD. But then my neighbour and her giant puppy came with us! on purpose! And we knew a lot of people there and the kids played.

I had to buy some clothes for work, and I never buy anything new (never having money) and was scared I’d get it wrong (stupid and weird) but I buckled up and bought these: https://www.disturbia.co.uk/products/rosamoth-button-up-midi-skirt https://www.disturbia.co.uk/products/swamplife-frog-embroidered-linen-blend-high-waist-midaxi-skirt

And it sounds bonkers, but the amount of people at work, etc, who have come up and instantly allied themselves with me on the strength of Frog Skirt / Moth Skirt has strengthened my convictions. Strongly recommend Frog Skirt / Moth Skirt and their emotional equivalents if you hit a stage of career where you need to suddenly level up.

I am thinking about counterweights. And kindness. And the balance of the turning world. And the light in the sky coming back. And, unfortunately, Killie, but he’s a counterweight too; sure, he’s awful, but we already know he contains the seeds of becoming okay.

As evidence suggests that many things do.

Thank you for your shining kindness, and my love back to you 💫

[tthoroughfare]

garden daisy (part 3) // ellie williams

*･゜ﾟ･* summary: things are sort of back to normal. ellie lends you the fuck ass gray hoodie, and you do what you will with it.

*･゜ﾟ･* pairing: modern!ellie x reader

*･゜ﾟ･* content: nsfw. masturbation and fantasizing, you're a loser

*･゜ﾟ･* length: 2.6k

this is part three of this series! find part one here

masterlist

i'm back for real!! thank you for your patience while i took a break. i don't wanna lose my momentum with writing so if anyone has any requests for blurbs feel free to let me know. i really love the way this part turned out, i hope you do too :)

for a little while, you feel comforted by your half-admission. you note that ellie, subconsciously or otherwise, draws back towards you. she starts planning more things for the two of you again, stops talking about haley so much.

while you feel a selfish relief, something still feels off. you get pangs of guilt out of nowhere, hoping she’s doing it because she wants to and not simply because she doesn’t want to upset you. she’s a selfless pacifist when it comes to your friendship, never wanting to disturb the balance. you’ve barely had three arguments the whole time you’ve known each other, each over pathetic things, each ending with her crawling back and settling herself at the side of you, quipping an ellie version of an apology.

while her pride would always get in the way of the words i’m sorry actually coming out of her mouth, you knew what she was trying to say. she’d always show, never tell.

you also feel guilty for lying to her. try to soothe yourself by saying you’re not lying, just not telling her the whole truth. is lying by omission still as bad as regular lying? you can’t decide. 

still, it feels a million times better than the anxiety clenching at your chest whenever you entertain the concept of telling her.

“no jacket?” ellie’s voice sounds as she emerges from down the hall, breaking your train of thought.

you snap out of it, glancing down at yourself. maybe not layering in early spring was a risky one; regardless, you’re too lazy to walk back to your room. “nah, last time they were blasting the hot air in there. and we’re only walking to and from the car, right?”

“your call,” she shrugs, shoving her wallet into her backpack and picking up her keys. “ready?”

“yessir.”

the drive to the nearest cinema is a short one, ellie nevertheless deliberating on which playlist to choose for the equivalent of half the journey.

“bro, just pick one,” you groan, head falling back against the seat as you watch her flick through spotify. “coulda’ fucking been there by now.”

“jesus, my bad for trying to curate the vibe.”

“you’re so stupid,” you reply, but the fond sheen in your eye and the way your mouth curves gives you away. “who says ‘curate the vibe’?”

“uh… me? thank you very much.” she catches your eye briefly as she finally hits play, putting her old ford into reverse and backing out of her spot.

“the only vibe you’re curating is that pink monstrosity dina got you for christmas.”

her nose scrunches as she lets out a chuckle, checking either side for traffic before pulling out of your building’s parking lot. “shut up.”

taking a pause, your gaze flits between your hands and ellie’s profile. you keep your tone light, teasing. “you actually used that thing?”

ellie answers without thinking. “nah, it sucks. it’s, like, a cheap ass battery powered one. i think she got it from a corner store.”

“damn. didn’t realize you were so picky about your… vibes,” you jest, noticing the way her freckled cheeks flower a light dusting of pink at the topic. despite your closeness, you never really talked about sex. “what’s wrong with battery powered?”

“nothing, just…” she trails off with a small shrug, laughing uncomfortably.

it’s hard not to continue poking at her when she gets like this. while a somewhat awkward individual, there aren’t many subjects that make ellie squirm. “is this why there’s an aux cable plugged in next to your bed?”

“stop.”

“what? i’m intrigued.” sitting back and folding your arms, you tut. “thought you were trying to play music through the walls.”

“i will turn the motherfucking car around,” she deadpans, unable to keep her act up when she takes her eyes off the road for a split-second to meet your gaze. the both of you share a laugh, ellie’s face still tinged beet.

you know you’re only joking, but you have to try and ignore how the thought of it makes you feel. the way your lower stomach twists a little at the idea of ellie making herself cum in the room next to you, skin the same pretty tone of pink as it is now, muffling her sounds so you can’t hear.

readjusting yourself in the seat subconsciously, you swat the image firmly from your mind. it’s one thing to fantasize about your best friend under the shield of nighttime and solitude — another entirely while she’s right next to you.

upon arriving, you begin to question your choice of clothing. the last few times you’d been to this particular cinema, you’d dressed for warmth only for them to apparently be attempting to cook the movie-goers. this time, once you’d gotten settled in and the trailers were rolling, a chill started to permeate. you don’t think they have the heat on at all. 

classic.

you do your damndest to convince yourself you’re not cold. not only do you not want to admit to yourself you made a mistake, you don’t want to admit it to ellie. ‘well, i did say…’ her know-it-all voice chimes through your head.

however, it gets much more difficult to pay it no mind. you shuffle and reshuffle in your seat the whole first half of the movie, tucking your arms around yourself. in your peripheral, ellie’s clearly taking notice; she turns her head each time before finally leaning in. 

“you cold?”

you’re stubborn, pausing before answering, avoiding looking at her. “no. these seats just suck. not comfortable.”

“dude, you’re cold,” she scoffs quietly. you think she’s just making to sit back again, until you realize she’s slipping her arms out of her hoodie. 

“no, no, it’s fine,” you whisper, resting the back of your hand on her upper arm to try and stop her. of course she doesn’t listen, tugging it off all the way and holding it out.

“it’s fine, i have my jacket.” when you don’t do anything, she shoves it gently into your hands with a smirk. “if you aren’t cold, don’t put it on.”

pulling a face at her, you relent to the playful challenge. ellie’s smell, the one you’ve grown to associate with home, envelops you as the fabric passes over your face. it’s still warm from her wearing it, the goosebumps prickling at your arms soothed.

satisfied, she grabs her jacket from the empty seat at the side of her and slips it on. you almost think you’re scot-free until —

“i did say ‘no jacket?’” she mumbles at you, leaning in once more. you just keep your eyes trained on the screen, flipping her off from the armrest with an amused smile.

after the movie ends, she doesn’t ask for it back. you decide to grab food after, and she doesn’t ask for it back then either. it’s only when you get home that you tell her you’re gonna take a shower, and try to hand it over.

“just give it back whenever,” she responds, looking at her feet when she continues. “kinda… suits you more, anyway.”

her eyes flicker back up at you, then across the room. you can feel your cheeks turning red, unable to help the way a smile spreads across your face. that could mean nothing, you say to yourself. tone it down.

“what are you gonna wear in the meantime?” you joke, a meager attempt to reestablish your footing after the way her comment flustered you. “never see you in anything else.”

ellie blinks slowly, corners of her mouth twitching and shrugging lightly. you’re sure she’s blushing a little, too.

there’s another pause, one that feels heavier than normal. after a few seconds of the both of you doing your best to avoid eye contact, you speak softly as you pass her to get to the bathroom. “whatever, weirdo.”

the whole encounter replays in your head while you shower, you convincing and unconvincing yourself she was flirting ten times over. there had been strange moments like that littered throughout your entire friendship with ellie.

most notably, the time you were both fifteen and she stole a bottle of whiskey from joel, the two of you passing it back and forth on the living room floor. it was childish, each sip and grimace getting your lightweight heads fuzzier, giggles increasing in volume. at one point, you were leaning back against the sofa when she inched closer to you, resting the side of her face on the upholstery.

“i gotta tell you something,” she’d stated lowly, trying to hide the slight slur in her words. you nodded, pivoting your body to face her. you’d been so close, you could smell the liquor on her breath.

“it’s, like, totally cool if you don’t wanna be friends with me after this—“ she paused, visibly thinking before interrupting herself. “—actually, no it’s not, you’d be a really shitty person.”

that had made you laugh, a burst escaping you before you could stop it. ellie had shushed you so as to not wake joel, trying not to laugh herself. “stop. i’m trying to be serious.”

“okay, be serious.”

“uh… i, uh… damn, lot of pressure now…”

you smiled and let out a groan of her name, her floundering around both irritating and adorable.

“okay, i… uh…” she’d looked down and her face had twitched before meeting your eyes again. “i like girls.”

you remember having a funny feeling in your stomach upon finding that out. you already knew you looked at girls differently, too. maybe even ellie.

still, all you could muster was an earnest smile and a quiet, “that’s okay.”

a moment had passed, ellie fidgeting slightly and swallowing. “okay.”

something hung in the air. in your state, you’d accidentally caught yourself looking at her lips too long. and you thought she’d done the same — no, you were positive. you even thought she could have been about to lean in, eyelashes fluttering, right when the ceiling light was hit and joel’s voice rang out.

“do you know what time it is? get the hell to bed,” he’d grumbled, rubbing at his forehead. you and ellie had leapt apart, and you’d felt so guilty at the proximity you’d forgotten all about the mostly-empty bottle at your feet. 

that is, until joel had rounded the sofa and spied it, grabbing it with a sigh and muttering under his breath as he made his way to the kitchen. “jesus christ, you couldn’t have picked the cheap shit.”

you sat like a scolded dog as he placed it back in the cabinet, messing awkwardly with your hands. you didn’t look at ellie once, not sure if you’d be more nervous to see her looking away, or at you. joel had turned back around and padded over towards ellie, more frustrated than angry. “you know tommy bought that for me? was supposed to be savin’ it.”

she’d pursed her lips, sheepish. “my bad.”

everyone in the room knew he wasn’t going to get an apology out of her. so, he’d simply blown air out of his mouth after a beat, turning with a hand on his hip and the other pointed towards you. “you’re lucky i’m not gon’ call your parents.”

“thank you,” you’d replied pathetically.

“what in the hell were you thinkin’?” he stated, looking between the pair of you before shaking his head, knowing there was no point attempting to debate. “you know what, i ain’t even — just get to bed. go on.”

you hadn’t said another word to ellie that night, slept facing the wall as far away as the bed allowed. sure, you felt terrible for being caught stealing alcohol, but your spinning head was honing in on the moment before.

in the morning, you woke up to raging nausea and ellie pretending she was too drunk to remember anything. you could see through her, though.

out of the shower, you sift through your drawer for something to sleep in, yet your eyes keep falling on ellie’s hoodie atop your chair. you pull out an old t-shirt you got at a concert, fingertips brushing against the sweater underneath that was relegated to nightwear when you spilled coffee down it. you don’t want to wear either of them.

“stupid,” you murmur to yourself, grabbing a pair of shorts and slipping them on then stuffing the drawer closed. the hoodie’s swiftly tugged back over your head, light flipped off and you’re in bed before you have time to scold yourself into taking it off.

as much as you try to settle, there’s too much on your mind. too much of someone. it starts off as ruminating over if you stand a chance, culminates in imagining what could happen if you do. 

how it would feel to kiss her; plush lips you try so hard not to look at working against yours. her mouth moving downwards and tongue darting out, wet and hot against the skin of your neck.

letting out a sharp breath, you turn over onto your back. you allow a hand to slide underneath the fabric of ellie’s hoodie, gently kneading at your breast, rolling your nipple between thumb and forefinger. as you trail the fingertips of your free hand over your stomach, you give a squeeze to your waist. you tell yourself you don’t know why you did that — you know. you’re pretending it’s her hands all over you.

you’re still pretending when you dip underneath the waistband of your shorts, allowing a gasp to escape as you arrive at your clit. you’re soaked just from thinking about it. beginning a steady rhythm, your brain flashes back to the conversation before, the one where you’d been messing with ellie. the consequential images littering your mind’s eye.

what if that’s what she’s doing now, too? pressure builds as you delve back into the concept you’d so intensely shut down earlier, allowing it to take hold. thinking of her fucking herself on the other side of the wall, mouth in the crook of her elbow as she grinds her puffy clit into the pads of her fingers. forgoing that to reach for her vibrator, desperately fumbling at the buttons as she presses it between her slick lips.

you know you could make her feel so much better.

the way she’d tilt her head back as you brushed over her pussy, stopping to firmly circle at her sweet spot. the pretty noises she’d make, sighs of your name punctuated by breathy moans. the way you’d suckle at her collar, easily sliding two fingers inside and savoring how blunt fingernails dig into your shoulder.

you’re right on the edge imagining it — grabbing for your throw pillow in an attempt to mask the sounds you’re incapable of holding back, you’re met with it just beyond reach. desperate, you go for the next best thing.

balling up the fabric of the hoodie, you tug it over your mouth. the familiar scent overwhelms your already on-fire senses, a layer of immersion. as much as you’d never admit it to yourself, you know that’s what tips you over; heat spiraling until it comes crashing down, waves pulsing through you.

you twitch your way through it until you’re spent, allowing one hand to drop to your side, the other resting over your sweat-sheened forehead. the collar of the hoodie keeps its position by your mouth, your breath fanning back over you.

fuck.

you’d just wash it before you gave it back.

tags: @abbysleftbicepp @dollinrehab @liztreez @vahnilla @xaaaavleg @fatbootymuncher @sqandroct14 @yasmilks @piercedome

[straows]

Garden injuries p.3

—In which you find yourself missing your garden. <<part one, part two

A/n: This is probably going to be my last part, but anything after this that is related to this prompt/mini series will be just like stupid little blurbs, yk?

Sighing in relief, you wiped the sweat from your brow. You’d just managed to change the bandages on your leg, and that by itself was a workout.

It was irritating. You felt useless. Your only job was to tend to the garden— but he’d given that to some half pint, half assed little man. You didn’t like that little man, he let some flowers die.

And while having Sukuna’s affections and favor toward you was nice— you missed being special— being valuable for that reason. You knew the garden and everything it needed. No one else knew. No one took care of it like you did.

And while you were glaring at the wall, a pissy pout on your lips, you didn’t notice walking in, only to pause and stare at you. His eyes narrowed and it was like he tried to read your thoughts.

“What’s on your mind, brat?” Sukuna sat down a bowl of meat and fruit— thankfully not human, and just grilled chicken. Sukuna had tried that once, but when you’d figured out what it was— before eating it, you screamed and screamed and screamed at him. It didn’t matter if he threatened you, you were appalled.

Lessons were learned.

You’re not a cannibal.

Blinking from your trance, you look up to Sukuna, eyeing the frustrated frown on his lips. “What’s the matter? Eat.” He poked the side of your head and finally nodded in satisfaction when you did eat.

“You’ve replaced me.” You huffed, before gladly choking down the food. Being critically wounded in the leg would do it to a person. You’ve found yourself much more hungry and thirsty now a days. Maybe it was just having to deal with Sukuna’s energy. Or how he had his fingers or face shoved up your cunt 24/7.

“What are you on about now? If anything, I’ve raised your status. Of course, you’ll almost be as powerful as me when I make you my queen.” He grinned when he heard your heartbeat pick up. Oh he loved knowing the effect he had on you.

“Ok, but, now all I do all day is sit around and watch as your replacement ruins the garden.” You turned away from him, glaring outside the large open window and down at the garden.

“You’re still mad about that?” Sukuna rolled his eyes before wrapping an arm around your waist and pulling back into him as he sat. Your back rested on his chest and his knees were propped on either side of you.

“Yes.” You melted back against him nonetheless. His warmth always had you relaxing into him.

“You don’t want to be my queen?” Sukuna’s voice dropped a level, his eyes turning to a narrow glare.

“What? No. I never said that.” You turned your head to look at him so fast it gave you whiplash. “I just don’t like that some man is touching my garden.”

Sukuna wordlessly raised a brow, looking both amused and unimpressed at the same time.

“Your garden, hm?” Leaning in, he pressed sweet little kisses all along your neck, before promptly biting down on your shoulder, deep enough to actually draw a bit off blood.

“Ow! Hey— that hurts!” You tried to push him off by his forehead, hissing at the sting when he finally pulled away. “You are so mean.”

“You’re the one letting power get to your head. Calling it your garden, human you truly are something.” Sukuna grinned away the wound, happy with the way he could see each teeth mark imbedded into your kiss. The little pricks of blood giving him a level of satisfaction he’d never admit.

“Well— I- whatever.” Scoffing, you crossed your arms and looked back out the window.

“Seeing you so upset over something so trivial is quite amusing.” His arms tightened around you, and your scowl deepened.

“When will my leg heal?” Ignoring his comment, you tilted your head back to peak up at him.

“Hopefully not for a long time. I enjoy having you here like this… having to lean on me completely.” Sukuna just bit into your cheek. Grinning, almost smiling, when you whined and pulled away.

“Stop biting me! I’m going to have bruises everywhere. The servants look at me weird— and your concubines??? Where have they all gone?” You side eyed him, only for him to scoop you up and sit you on a table. Your legs dangling from the table.

“I don’t need them. Unfortunately for me, you’ve infected my brain like a little parasite. Well, humans are parasites, yet you seem to be my favorite.”

“How are you so mean but sweet at the same time?” You sighed, only to glare out the window again.

“You are impossible to please, woman. I will give you the garden, as long as you swear you’ll be my queen once you heal.” Sukuna pulled your face back over to him, his hand coming up to hold you cheeks.

Your eyes widened and a big smile pulled at your lips. “Really?”

Sukuna just sighed and rolled his eyes.

“Then yes! I will.” Pressing a kiss to his lips, only to pull away when he moved to take a step away.

A shit eating evil little fucking smirk on his lips, “of course, if you said no I’d still make you my queen and would flay the earth ‘til you said yes, but I am glad you did.”

You could only roll your eyes, “Anddd you ruined it.” Sighing, you looked down at your leg, before giving him a cheeky grin, “can I have some mango’s, my king?” You teased him.

Sukuna could feel his eye twitch and his cock throb, “and you call me evil. When you heal, be prepared to not walk for another week, woman.” Sukuna pressed a deep kiss to your lips, only for you to smile into it.

“Yeah, yeah.”

Taglist @sofi4dsam @xyinparadise @satttanx

[starkenobi]

Can you write drunken confession with tony stark please?? 😻😁

masterlist

Hope you like this one! 💜

pairing: tony stark x avenger!reader.

warnings: same universe of menace, draw me like one of your french girls.

Usually, the person with the history of getting drunk at parties was none other than the host of the party himself, Tony. But it's been years since his terrible behavior, no more party animal with no control. Being Iron Man gave him purpose - and the troubles that came attached to his status required some changes.

Of course, he didn't really stop drinking. Oh no, sometimes he drank like he thought he could keep up with Thor. Some days were harder than the others, but they were becoming rare.

And all thanks to one person.

Frosty, another excellent addition to the Avengers — the nickname he gave her on their first meeting and that she proudly decided to use as her hero name.

It was overwhelmingly cute.

It made him nauseous how sweet that move was.

She had game.

She was better than him.

So, of course, the outcome couldn't be any different.

The two became attached to the hip. It was worse than his friendship with Bruce. She was curious, had a wild imagination and a dangerous creativity, compensating her lack of knowledge on science. He loved how she could keep up with him, with her oohs and aahs, and feeding him dumb ideas that became good in his capable hands.

He fell hard.

So damn hard it was actually stupid.

He tried to play it cool.

Then, Tony noticed he stopped going out and having one night stands after six months of Frosty joining the team.

It's been two years.

The. Fuck.

How he never noticed before?

Oh, yeah.

His time when he wasn't working, avenging, or being with the team... he was with her.

And when he was alone and felt horny...

Dammit.

He was a genius but so fucking dumb sometimes.

No one needed to know, of course.

So he played cool.

Super cool.

He made her a new uniform with a new nano tech.

He upgraded her room.

And her motorcycle.

He gave her super access to his personal lab.

He asked friday to keep an eye on her favorites and buy before she could miss something.

He smiled more.

He started calling her sweetheart.

Ugh, fuck.

He wasn't playing cool.

At all.

And now the party.

His worst nightmare.

He wanted to order everybody out and be a party popper.

But she was having fun.

With Sam, Pietro and Bucky.

Tony forgotten at the side, forced to talk business and watch her from afar.

He hated it.

She was drinking tequila like water, doing shots with everyone of the team.

And then he lost her and the rest of them in the crowd.

Tony found her two hours later.

Or, rather, Bucky and Natasha brought her to him.

"All yours, Tony." Natasha said simply, an amused smile on her lips.

Bucky patted her head in goodbye after Tony held her waist. "That one's trouble, but your trouble now, Stark."

"Huh, thank you?" Tony frowned, confused. Should he be offended? Hell no.

She giggled, hugging him without care and not even paying attention to the couple of spies. "You smell like mine."

Oh, he understood now.

Trouble. So much trouble.

But he loved.

"I bet you say this to every chick you wanna bang." Tony retorted playfully because he loved to banter with her, even more so her drunk version.

"No!" She answered quickly, worried wild eyes staring at him. "You're it for me, Tony! Can't you see?"

What.

"What?"

There's no way.

"Ugh, why are you so mean and dumb?" She lamented, body collapsing dramatically and making him take her in his arms.

"Alright, sweetheart, time to go." Tony declared, starting to walk with her to one of the doors that led to the avengers' private area.

His heart beating so hard, he was scared of dying right there.

"Wanna snuggles and burgers, Tony." She said after a bit of silence, oblivious to his internal crisis.

She loved him too.

Oh, Tony was going to have a blast tomorrow.

Yeah, he was already making plans.

He needed to buy her favorite flower, breakfast in bed, take her to one of his places for privacy and ask her to make him hers as long as she wished.

Ugh, he was so going to marry her.

But, for now, he needed to take care of his drunk princess.

Booping her on the nose, he answered. "You're lucky that I love you."

She never heard him, already asleep in his arms before even getting into the bed.

[silkscream]

CHAPTER 19: FLOWERS OF BLOOD

ੈ✩ gojo satoru x reader

You hum as you close your eyes, feeling the warmth in your veins. His proximity makes your skin feel electric along with whatever curse is inside of you. It gives you a heady feeling. You’re often needy with him, but this feels like a new beast.

ੈ✩ chapter cw/tags: angst, fingering, vaginal sex

ੈ✩ wc: 9k

ੈ✩ a/n: why is this so long u may ask. i don't fucking know

playlist ✸ read on ao3 ✸ series masterlist

May, 2005

Satoru is fifteen the first time he figures out how to warp. The second time he does it is to get inside your room while the two of you are fighting.

His mother offers to take you in for the weekend when yours has to go out of town to visit your grandmother. You think it’s excessive considering you’re certainly old enough to stay home by yourself, but Mrs. Gojo enjoys your company as if you were her own daughter. That, and she thinks that you’d be a good influence on Satoru, who, at the time, was on his second week of being grounded.

You have your own room in the house. It’s mostly sparse save for a few polaroids and drawings from your younger years. It’s odd to be inside it, on the twin-sized bed that you and Satoru used to make blanket forts in. Back when all you had was each other.

You mostly keep to yourself. You don’t exactly know what to do with him besides sharing the couch with him quietly while he plays on his Gamecube. You read your book because you don’t know what to say to him, either. You hadn’t been friends in over a year.

As the afternoon wears on, the silence between you grows heavier, more oppressive. You glance up from your book, catching Satoru's eye for a brief moment before he quickly looks away, his fingers fumbling on the controller. The air feels oddly thick.

"Do you have to mash the buttons so loudly?" you snap, the words tumbling out before you can stop them.

Satoru pauses the game, turning to face you with a raised eyebrow. 

"Does it bother you?" he asks, his tone deceptively light.

“It’s distracting.”

His blue eyes narrow. “It’s not that loud. Maybe if you weren't so uptight, you wouldn't even notice it."

The barb stings, reminding you of why you drifted apart. "I'm not uptight," you retort. "I just don't waste all my time on video games like you do."

"Oh, right," Satoru scoffs, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "Because keeping your nose is so much more productive."

You feel your face flush with anger. "It is! At least I'm learning something! What are you learning from that game? How to jump on mushrooms?"

“You used to love jumping on mushrooms when we were kids, if I recall. Sorry that you forgot how to have fun, Twigs.”

His words hit a nerve, and you lash out. "Maybe I'd have more fun if my best friend hadn't abandoned me for his stupid jujutsu training!"

The room goes eerily quiet. Satoru's face, usually so animated, becomes a mask of cold indifference.

"Is that what you think happened? That I abandoned you?"

"Didn't you?” you accuse. “We’ve barely spoken in the past two years! Ever since you started getting stronger, you've been different. Distant. Like you're too good for normal people now."

"You have no idea what it's like," he hisses. “You know how much pressure is on me all the time. Not like you’d understand, anyway. You’re just a fucking window.”

“Excuse me?”

“What?” he scoffs. “Just stating a fact.”

“Oh, Satoru, don’t worry. I’m completely aware of how much better you think you are—”

“Oh, give me a fucking break—”

“I just thought you weren’t into that bullshit. But I suppose everything looks better when you’re at the top of the food chain, doesn’t it?”

“Jesus, Twigs. Sorry that I made some friends who can actually keep up with me.”

The words hang in the air, prickling the back of your head like a death blow. You rub your temple, feeling a headache coming on as tears threaten to spill over. You refuse to give him the satisfaction of seeing you cry.

“Keep up with you?” you spit back, your voice trembling. "Is that what this is about? You need other people to stroke your ego now?"

Satoru's eyes flash dangerously, a flicker of something inhuman passing across his face. 

"You have no idea what I need," he says, his voice low and cold. "You can't even begin to comprehend the world I live in now."

“Go ahead and explain it. Or have you outgrown me so completely that it’s not worth it?”

Satoru runs a hand through his white hair, a gesture you've seen a thousand times before. But now it feels like watching a stranger. 

"That's not what I meant," he says, but his tone lacks conviction.

“Then what did you mean? If you even thought of me as a friend still, which you don’t, you’d at least try instead of pretending you’re some kind of god.”

He looks back at you, and for a moment, you see a flicker of the boy you used to know. But then his walls come back up, and he's once again the untouchable Satoru Gojo. He narrows his eyes.

“A god? How flattering,” he bites, laughing bitterly. Satoru’s face feels too warm with irritation. Out of all the things he’d heard, that had to be the most ridiculous. All his life, he’s heard it. He’d never expected it to come from you, who had only known him when he was human. A defenseless child.

“You’re not invincible,” you whisper.

“Well, maybe I am,” he shrugs coolly. “Ever considered that?”

You scoff in disgust. “You’re not. You’re just an asshole.”

"You don't understand," he mutters, almost to himself. "You can't understand."

There’s a pang in your heart you wish you could ignore. The reality of your love for him comes crashing down, even when you’ve been distant from each other for so long. The habit of thinking about him as a security blanket comes back. You hate it.

Your fingers twitch as you stare at him before quickly averting your gaze. You want to show him how much power you really have. You’ve thought about it plenty of times before — suddenly unveiling your technique to see how he would react to your fingertips decaying something living.

You aren’t prepared for the anger that would probably be unleashed on you. The look of betrayal he’d have.

So, instead, you turn away and bolt for the stairs right as Satoru opens his mouth to say something else. As you hole yourself up in your room, alone in the growing darkness, you can't help but wonder if this is the price of loving someone touched by destiny. You're not sure if you're strong enough to pay it.

__

Dinner that night is tense. You can tell that Satoru’s mother gets the hint, given how often she flickers her stare between you and Satoru.

The head of the household has left for a work meeting, which leaves the three of you. If you were younger, Satoru would’ve had something snarky to say about his father, whether it was just to you or at the dinner table, where he would be scolded. But right now, he sits next to you and doesn’t say a word.

The silence is deafening, broken only by the soft clink of chopsticks against porcelain. You keep your eyes fixed on your plate, pushing the food around more than eating it. The weight of Mrs. Gojo's concerned gaze feels heavy on your shoulders.

"So," Mrs. Gojo says, her voice cutting through the tension like a knife, "how was your afternoon? Did you two have fun catching up?"

“Mhm,” you hum with an air of insistence. Your tone is higher than usual.

“Yeah,” Satoru offers. “Caught up and played video games. And stuff.”

You nod in agreement, avoiding eye contact with anyone that wasn’t your bowl of rice under you. You feel the slight graze of Satoru’s foot against yours. You glance at him briefly to see a small smile on his face, and it surprises you so much that you have to look away immediately.

The rest of the meal passes in silence. As soon as it's polite to do so, you excuse yourself and retreat back to your room. You curl up on the bed and hug your knees to your chest, willing yourself to think of anything other than him.

You’re about to get yourself a cup of tea when you hear footsteps in the hallway, pausing outside your room. For a heart-stopping moment, you think it’s Satoru about to knock. But then the footsteps continue, fading as he walks away.

You let out a breath you didn’t realize you were holding. Part of you wishes he had knocked, that he’d barged in like he always did and maybe apologized. You aren’t sure what his habits are anymore. They certainly had nothing to do with you.

Hours later, it’s impossible for Satoru to sleep. His mind is stuck on you, wondering if you’re still a heavy sleeper. Wondering what things would be like if he didn’t push you away.

Since you’ve been in his home, it’s been hard to look at you.

He warps to your room. It’s the second time in his life that he’s used the technique, and he nearly stumbles onto the bed. He holds his breath with wide eyes as you stir.

Your body is curled into itself, chin tucked underneath your fist. He always thought you looked like a bunny rabbit when you were a child, your nose twitching whenever he’d tease you. You look serene when you’re asleep. Pretty in the moonlight.

He isn’t exactly sure why he’s here, or why he warped at all, considering you probably didn’t lock the door. He had only thought about needing to see you like an itch he needed to scratch. He hadn’t even thought you’d be asleep. 

Truthfully, he imagined that he’d startle you, then you’d yell at him, then he’d make up some half-assed apology and try to humor you. Invade your space. Probably get you to lay with him so he could —

No, he thinks to himself. Out of the question.

But he does feel the need to crawl into your bed. You have a habit of curling towards the sides instead of staying in the middle, as if expecting someone to join you.

He hovers you and taps your forehead lightly. You don’t move. He taps your bottom lip and gets fascinated by the softness. Grazes your nose and gasps slightly when you twitch. You adjust your position, still sleep-ridden, still dead to the world. The comforter falls away to reveal your chest underneath the flimsy material of your cotton tank top.

He forces himself to look away, grunting when he feels his stomach tighten with vague want. It was stupid, being a high school boy. He’d lost his virginity only a few weeks ago and your face had popped into his head without warning. Hormones, he’d told himself. Hormones and familiarity —

He freezes when you let out a whimper. God, he can’t be here. Not with you making sounds like that.

Your breathing picks up. There’s a furrow in your brow that wasn’t there before as you fidget in your sleep. Your body twitches erratically, your knuckles tightening around the sheets. All the sounds you’re making are signs of distress.

“Twigs,” Satoru whispers, caressing your arm lightly. You whimper again, still asleep until he shakes you. With a gasp, you jolt awake.

“Satoru?” you blink at him, frowning. Sweat collects in your brow. “What are you doing here?”

Satoru widens his eyes, scrambling for an excuse.

“I— I couldn’t sleep and I heard you were having a nightmare. I just came to check on you.” A half-truth.

You exhale, closing your eyes before opening them to look at his electric blue ones.

“You okay?” he mumbles.

“Yeah. Just.. anxious.”

He doesn’t know why, but he sits down at the edge of your bed with you. The hairs on his neck prick up from the proximity of your warmth.

“Satoru.”

“Mm?” He pretends to look out the window.

“Will you stay with me tonight? Like you used to when I had nightmares?” you whisper.

He looks at you, eyes softening. He hesitates, his heart beating fast. He knows it’s not a good idea, but something in your voice breaks through his defenses.

“Yeah,” he murmurs, his voice low. “Yeah, I’ll stay.”

He settles onto the bed beside you, careful to maintain a sliver of space between your bodies. The mattress dips under his weight, and you can feel the heat radiating from him. It's comforting and unsettling all at once.

For a while, you both lie there in silence, staring up at the ceiling. The moonlight casts strange shadows across the room, and you're attuned to every breath, every slight movement.

As your eyes droop towards slumber, you feel his body adjust. There’s a tentative touch to your hip, then an arm slung around your waist. The vague sound of his heart beating lulls you to sleep.

__

June, 2012

There seemed to be a permanent dread in Satoru’s heart when it came to letting you out of his sight. Exacerbated greatly when you’d gone to study in Kyoto, he feels it again when he overhears Shoko and Yaga discussing a mission together.

“Yeah, no, I think I should be retired from missions altogether. I’m trying to be a doctor, here, sensei,” Shoko scoffs. Mumbling, like something was in her mouth. A cigarette, Satoru would bet.

Ironic, he thinks. Smoking away your life while trying to become a doctor.

It’s a mission in Kyoto, something too minor for a Special Grade like him. He’s about to walk past the room until he hears your name.

“You know, she’s better suited for combat even though she technically heals.”

“I suppose she hasn’t been on a solo mission with a Grade 1 or Special Grade yet,” Yaga nods. “And she's still a Grade 2.”

“Yeah. She’s getting better every day.”

And you are. It makes Satoru feel guilty that he hasn’t considered your strength, hasn’t seen it for himself in perhaps years between you being gone and you confining yourself to the greenhouse. He’s always on solo missions, used to being trigger-happy on Grade 1 curses and exorcising Special Grades like the final bosses in his video games.

You are not his damsel but he feels the need to lock you up sometimes. It’s an ephemeral feeling now, but it lingers nonetheless. Part of it must be security, he’s sure – the need to be your safe space when knowing you are his. 

It had been simpler years before, when he had you to himself (and Suguru, too). Now, you have grown older, always as lovely as you’ve been, but with a reformed shell that has stuck to you since your school days. 

He couldn’t believe you had let him kiss you all those years ago. He knew that he’d fucked up something good, was afraid of your friendship as a teenager because of how deeply entwined the two of you used to be. Convinced he would taint something as good as you.

Satoru couldn’t help but indulge in the things he wanted. He’s convinced he’s ruined you somehow anyway. Consumed with you, the architect of his lust. 

He wonders what would happen if he let you use your technique on him. Born with the Six Eyes and prodigious, he had his maximum potential. If he let himself get cut, would your hands heal him faster than his own? If you touched him with the intent to hurt, would he rot from the outside in?

You’re so secretive about your studies. Part of it must be ritualistic – you’re extremely particular about your practice. Satoru often jokes that you would make a great monk.

You’d been warming up to him lately. He knows not to beg. 

Satoru leans against the wall outside Yaga's office, mind racing. You, on a solo mission not in Tokyo? The thought makes his stomach tighten uncomfortably. He knows he shouldn't interfere—you'd resent him for it—but the idea of you facing danger alone makes his blood run cold.

He pushes himself off the wall and heads toward the greenhouse. That's where you'd be at this hour, tending to your medicinal plants with that quiet concentration he's always found mesmerizing. The way your fingers move among the leaves, gentle yet purposeful—it does something to him he can't quite explain.

The greenhouse door is ajar when he arrives, sunlight filtering through the glass panels and casting dappled patterns across your form. You're hunched over a workbench, grinding something in a mortar, your back to him. The air is thick with herbal scents—earthy, sweet, and something sharper that makes his nose tingle.

"Knock knock," he says, not wanting to startle you.

You don't turn around. "I know it's you, Satoru. Your cursed energy announces you like a foghorn."

He grins despite himself. "Is that a compliment?"

"It's an observation." You continue grinding, chuckling. “What do you want?”

Satoru saunters in, running his finger along a leaf of a plant he doesn't recognize. It curls away from his touch. "Can't I just visit my favorite botanist?"

Now you do turn, fixing him with that level stare that always makes him feel transparent. "You never 'just visit.' What is it?"

He looks around, examining the foliage. His eyes settle on a row of strange flowers — black petals with luminescent blue veins that pulse like heartbeats.

"Those are new," he comments, making you jump.

You turn, wiping soil from your hands onto your apron. "They're corpse lilies. They only grow when fertilized with cursed energy from the recently deceased."

"Morbid," he says with a grin, approaching to examine them closer. "I like it."

“What’s up, Satoru?” Your voice is casual but wary. He can hear it.

He watches as you carefully extract a petal from one of the flowers, placing it in a glass vial. Your movements are precise, methodical—so different from the impulsive girl who used to chase him through summer fields.

He hesitates, then decides on directness. "I heard you're taking a solo mission in Kyoto."

Your hand stills for a moment before continuing its work. "Eavesdropping again?"

"Information gathering," he corrects, leaning against your workbench. "It's what I do."

You cap the vial and set it in a wooden rack alongside others. "It's just a Grade 1 curse in Kyoto. Nothing special."

"I could come with you."

Now you look at him directly, eyebrows raised. "The great Satoru Gojo, offering to accompany me on a mission? What would the higher-ups think?"

"I don't give a shit what they think," he says. He means it.

"I don't need a babysitter, Satoru."

"I know that." He steps closer, invading your space in that way he knows annoys and thrills you in equal measure. "Maybe I just want to see what you can do now. It's been a while since we've worked together."

You study his face. He maintains his carefree expression, but your eyes have always seen through him better than most.

"You're worried about me," you state, not a question but a fact. Your fingers trace the edge of the workbench, leaving faint imprints in the layer of soil scattered there.

Satoru shrugs, his casual posture betrayed by the intensity in his blue eyes. "Is that a crime?"

"No, but it's unnecessary." You turn back to your plants, carefully adjusting the position of a potted seedling. "I've been handling myself for years now. While you've been off being the strongest sorcerer in the world, I've been growing too."

He watches your hands work, thinking about those same fingers intertwined with his. His hand twitches.

"I know you have," he says, softer now. "That's why I want to see it."

The greenhouse falls silent except for the soft patter of water droplets falling from the misting system. The air between you feels charged, like the moment before a thunderstorm breaks.

You return to your plants, fingers dancing over the leaves of something that looks like mint but smells like copper. "I'm sure you've heard all about my skills from Shoko."

"Shoko only tells me you're improving. She doesn't give details." He leans closer, watching your profile. "I want to see for myself what you can do now."

Your hands still. "Why? So you can tell me how I could do it better? Or so you can swoop in and save me if things go wrong?"‘

The accusation stings more than he expects. "That's not fair, Twigs."

"Isn't it?" You turn to face him fully now, arms crossed. "Every time I've tried to stand on my own, you've been there, hovering. Even when we weren't speaking, I'd feel your cursed energy following me."

Satoru doesn't deny it. Can't deny it. "I was protecting you."

"I never asked for that."

"You didn't have to."

The silence between you thrums. Your eyes drift to the window, where the afternoon sun casts long shadows across the greenhouse floor.

"This mission is important to me," you finally say, voice softer now. "I need to do it alone."

Satoru studies you—the determined set of your jaw, the quiet strength in your posture that wasn't there when you were younger. Something inside him aches with a mixture of pride and loss.

"Fine," he concedes, surprising himself. "But I want details when you get back. And if anything—anything—feels wrong, you call me."

You look up at him, a small smile playing at the corners of your mouth. "I'll consider it."

He reaches out, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. You don't pull away, and he counts that as progress.

"What are these really for?" he asks, nodding toward the corpse lilies.

You hesitate, a private smile flitting across your face. "They're for a new technique I've been developing. The nectar can temporarily reverse decay."

"Reverse decay?" Satoru asks, genuine curiosity replacing his protective instinct. "That's the opposite of your usual method."

"Balance," you say simply, running a finger along one of the pulsing blue veins of the flower. "I've been studying both sides of the equation. Death and regeneration. Destruction and creation."

Satoru watches your movements, fascinated by the confidence in your hands. This is new—this certainty in your abilities that wasn't there before.

"They're also, um, for a new healing technique I'm developing. The corpse lilies absorb cursed energy from the dead, but I've been experimenting with using that energy for regeneration."

Satoru's eyes widen slightly. "Turning death into life. That's ambitious."

"It's theoretical," you admit. "But the preliminary tests are promising. If I can perfect it, we might be able to heal injuries that would normally be fatal to sorcerers."

He moves closer, examining the pulsing flowers with newfound interest. "And the mission in Kyoto? Is it connected to this research?"

You nod, feeling a small thrill at sharing your work with him. "There's a specific type of cursed spirit there that feeds on decay. I need to collect samples of its energy to complete my formula."

Satoru's expression shifts subtly, the playfulness giving way to something more serious. "That's not just a Grade 2 mission, Twigs. Those spirits are rare and dangerous."

"Which is why Yaga assigned it to me," you counter. "My technique is uniquely suited to handling them."

"Show me something else," he says suddenly.

You look up, eyebrow raised. "What?"

"Show me something you've learned. A technique. Anything." His eyes are bright with interest now, not just concern.

You consider him for a moment, then reach for a small potted plant on a nearby shelf. It's withered, brown, clearly dead. Placing it between you on the workbench, you hover your hands above it.

"I haven’t been able to regenerate living things since I was a kid. That cat I had – it took a lot out of me, you know? And it was only the one time," you explain, your voice taking on the measured cadence you use when discussing your work. "But now..."

Your fingers begin to glow with a soft green light, different from the angry red of your decay technique. The air around the plant seems to shimmer, time itself bending around your hands. Slowly, impossibly, the brittle brown stem begins to straighten. Color seeps back into the leaves, spreading from the center outward like watercolor on wet paper.

Satoru watches, transfixed, as the plant resurrects under your touch. Within minutes, it stands vibrant and alive, leaves reaching toward the light.

"That's..." he begins, then stops, genuinely at a loss for words.

"Not as flashy as your Infinity," you say with a small smirk, "but it has its uses."

He reaches out, touching one of the revived leaves gently. "This is incredible. When did you figure this out?"

"Last year. It takes a lot more cursed energy than decay," you admit. "And I can only use it on recently deceased organisms. The longer something's been dead, the harder it is to bring back."

Satoru studies you with new eyes. You've always been powerful, but this—this is evolution. "Does Yaga know?"

You shake your head. "Not the full extent. I've been perfecting it before showing anyone."

"Anyone except me," he points out, unable to keep the satisfaction from his voice.

You roll your eyes, but there's fondness there. "Don't let it go to your head."

"Too late." He grins, leaning back against the workbench. "So this mission in Kyoto—"

"Is still mine alone," you finish firmly. "But if you're good, maybe I'll tell you all about it afterward."

"If I'm good?" Satoru repeats, his voice dipping into a lower register. "That's quite the condition, Twigs."

You turn away to hide your smile, busying yourself with rearranging vials. "I know your track record with behaving."

He moves closer. "I can be very good when properly motivated."

Your hands are still on the glass containers. The greenhouse feels smaller suddenly, the air thicker with more than just the humidity needed for your plants. You can feel him behind you, not touching but close enough that his warmth radiates against your back.

You step back, needing the space to think clearly. "I leave on Monday. Early."

Satoru drops his hand, accepting the boundary. "Will you at least let me walk you to the station?"

The request is so unexpectedly modest that you almost laugh. "The great Gojo Satoru, reduced to asking for a walk to the train?"

His smile is self-deprecating. "I'm trying this new thing called 'respecting boundaries.' How am I doing?"

"Terribly," you say with a laugh. "But yes, you can walk me to the station."

"Good." He brightens, turning to examine one of your experimental plants. "So, hypothetically, if someone were to get, say, a limb severed by a curse—"

"I could potentially reattach it," you finish. "If I get there quickly enough. The corpse lily extract extends the window of viability."

"And what about internal damage? Organs?"

You nod. "Those are actually easier in some ways. The body naturally wants to heal. I just accelerate and guide the process."

Satoru's eyes gleam with genuine interest. "The applications for jujutsu sorcerers are enormous. Have you considered teaching this?"

"Eventually," you admit. "But I want to perfect it first. There are... side effects I'm still working out."

"Side effects?" Satoru's voice sharpens with concern. "What kind of side effects?"

You hesitate, debating how much to reveal. His intensity has always made you want to both confide in him and shield yourself from him.

"Nothing dangerous," you assure him, turning back to your workbench. "Just... the balance is delicate. When I reverse decay too quickly, it sometimes creates an energy deficit that has to be filled."

"Filled from where?" he presses, moving closer.

You sigh, knowing he won't let this go. "From me, usually. I feel drained afterward. Sometimes dizzy, sometimes worse. But I'm learning to modulate it better."

Satoru's expression darkens. "And you're going after a decay-feeding spirit alone? With this technique that drains you?"

"I don't plan to use the reversal technique on the mission unless absolutely necessary," you say firmly. "My regular decay acceleration works fine for combat. Better, actually."

“You’re not telling me everything about these side effects.”

With a sigh, you roll up your sleeve, revealing a network of faint dark veins running from your wrist to your elbow. They pulse slightly, like the blue veins in the corpse lilies.

"The decay has to go somewhere," you explain quietly. "When I reverse it, I have to channel it through my own body first. I'm working on a technique to disperse it more effectively, but for now..." You shrug, pulling your sleeve back down.

Satoru's expression darkens. He reaches for your arm, but you step back.

"It's not as bad as it looks," you insist. "And it fades after a few days."

"You're absorbing death into yourself," he says flatly, eyes narrowed. "And you didn't think to mention this?"

"I'm handling it," you reply, matching his tone. "This is exactly why I didn't tell you. I knew you'd overreact."

"Overreact?" Satoru's voice remains controlled, but the temperature in the greenhouse seems to drop several degrees. "You're poisoning yourself with cursed energy, and I'm overreacting?"

"It's my technique, Satoru. My body. My choice."

He runs a hand through his white hair, frustration evident in every line of his body. "And what happens when you absorb too much? When the decay doesn't fade?"

You turn away, focusing on your plants. "That won't happen."

"You don't know that."

"Actually, I do." You face him again, chin raised defiantly. "I've been studying this for years while you've been off playing the untouchable god. I understand the risks better than anyone."

The accusation hits its mark. Satoru's expression flickers with something that might be hurt before smoothing into careful neutrality.

"Is that what you think I've been doing? Playing god?"

You sigh, suddenly tired. "No. That's not fair. I know what you do is important."

"So is this," he gestures to your arm. "So are you."

He studies you with those piercing blue eyes that always make you feel transparent. "Promise me something."

"What?"

"If you get in over your head—"

"I won't."

"If you do," he continues, "call me. I can be in Kyoto in seconds."

The concern in his voice makes something in your chest ache. You want to bristle at his protectiveness, but there's something different about it now—less controlling, more partnership.

"Fine," you concede. "But only as an absolute last resort."

Satoru relaxes visibly. "That's all I ask."

You turn back to your plants, aware of him watching you work. His presence used to make you nervous, but now there's a comfortable familiarity to it, despite everything that's happened between you.

"You know," he says after a while, his voice thoughtful, "your technique has evolved in ways mine can't."

You look up, surprised by the admission. "What do you mean?"

"Infinity is... static," he explains, gesturing vaguely. "Powerful, but unchanging in its fundamental nature. Your ability to both accelerate decay and now reverse it—that's growth. Evolution."

The compliment warms you more than you'd like to admit. "It's not a competition, Satoru."

"Everything's a competition," he says with a grin, but then his expression softens. "But seriously, I'm impressed. You've come a long way from that shy kid who was afraid to touch anything because it might rot."

Memories flood back—your tears when you accidentally killed your first houseplant, Satoru holding your hands and telling you it wasn't your fault. How far you've both come since then.

"We both have," you say quietly.

The afternoon sun slants lower through the greenhouse windows, casting long shadows across the floor. Time seems suspended in this quiet space, filled with the scent of earth and growing things.

Satoru watches your hands move among the plants with practiced precision, a strange ache building in his chest. "Do you remember," he asks suddenly, "that weekend at my parents' lake house? When we were what, nineteen?"

You don't look up, but your hands pause briefly. "When you convinced me to try using my decay on the algae in the lake?"

"And it worked," he says, smiling at the memory. "You cleared that whole cove in minutes."

"And then panicked because I killed all the fish too," you remind him, but there's a hint of amusement in your voice.

"But then you cried for hours," Satoru continues, moving closer. "Until Suguru showed us the fish had just moved to the deeper water."

You shake your head, finally meeting his gaze. "I was so scared of my own power back then."

"And now look at you," he says softly. "Creating life instead of just taking it away."

The greenhouse falls silent except for the gentle hiss of the misting system. 

"I keep preparing for the mission," you say, breaking the moment.

Satoru nods, stepping back. "Monday. I'll come by at six. For our very platonic walk to the station."

"Five-thirty," you correct him. "The train leaves at six-fifteen."

You try to ignore your blush. Platonic. All of your time alone together in his apartment has been anything but.

He grins. "Five-thirty it is."

As he turns to leave, you call after him: "Satoru?"

He pauses at the door, looking back.

"Thank you. For not insisting on coming with me."

His smile turns softer, more genuine than his usual cocky grin. "You're welcome, Twigs."

After he's gone, you press a hand to your chest, feeling your heartbeat beneath your palm. The corpse lilies pulse in rhythm with it, their blue veins glowing slightly brighter in the dimming light.

You look down at your arm, pulling back the sleeve to examine the dark veins spreading beneath your skin. They've grown since this morning—a fact you carefully concealed from Satoru. The reversal technique is taking more from you each time, but the potential benefits are too great to stop now.

"Just a little longer," you whisper to yourself, touching one of the corpse lilies gently. "Just until I perfect it."

Outside the greenhouse, Satoru leans against the wall, his confident posture gone. He stares at his hand, remembering the darkness he glimpsed spreading under your skin. He's seen cursed techniques consume their users before—seen talented sorcerers destroyed by their own power.

He won't let that happen to you. Not even if it means letting you go to Kyoto alone.

Not even if it means watching from a distance, ready to step in only if absolutely necessary.

Not even if it kills him to wait.

__

Satoru surprises you the night before you leave by showing up to your apartment. He doesn’t often leave the kids alone, but neither Tsumiki nor Megumi are particularly rebels. He’d left them in their shared room, a Ghibli movie playing on the TV while they drifted off to sleep.

“You could still use the door,” you scoff when you sense his presence. He laughs and puts a hand on your shoulder, his other one running through your hair in a way that makes your body heat up.

“But I don’t have to. Surprise.”

You snort. “What do you want? I’m trying to pack here.”

He pulls you closer, his arms around your waist. “Just wanted to see you again.”

“Well, my night time routine is pretty boring.”

“Nothing about you is boring, baby. I could watch you brush your teeth for hours.”

“Now that’s a lie.”

"Is it?" Satoru's voice drops lower, his breath warm against your ear. He spins you around to face him, those blue eyes searching yours with an intensity that makes your heart skip. "What if I told you I've memorized every little thing you do? The way you always start with the left side of your mouth when you brush. How you fold your clothes in perfect thirds before putting them in your suitcase."

You try to look away, but his fingers catch your chin. "Stop it," you mutter, uncomfortable with his scrutiny. The dark veins in your arm throb painfully.

"Let me see," he says suddenly, reaching for your sleeve.

You jerk back. "It's nothing."

"Don't lie to me, Twigs. Not about this." His playfulness has vanished, replaced by something harder, more desperate. "I saw it earlier."

"It's under control."

"Is it? Because it looks like it's spreading." His fingers hover over your arm, not quite touching.

The blackened veins have spread further, now reaching your elbow in intricate, web-like patterns. His expression doesn't change, but the temperature in the room drops several degrees.

"It's taking too much from you."

You pull away completely, turning back to your half-packed suitcase. "I don't need your concern, Satoru. I need your respect. This is my choice."

The silence stretches between you, heavy with unspoken fears. When he speaks again, his voice is uncharacteristically quiet.

"What happens when there's nothing left to take?"

The question hangs in the air. You've asked yourself the same thing during sleepless nights, watching the darkness crawl beneath your skin. But admitting that fear would mean admitting failure, and you can't—won't—do that.

"I'll find a balance," you say finally. "The corpse lilies are helping me understand the decay cycle. If I can master the reversal at the cellular level—"

"Theory won't matter if you're dead," he cuts in, an edge to his voice.

You slam the suitcase shut. "I'm not having this conversation again."

"Fine." He runs a hand through his white hair, frustration evident in every line of his body. "But… are you sure you don’t want me to come–"

"We've been over this. I need to do this alone."

Satoru watches you for a long moment, his usually playful demeanor completely gone. "Kyoto has strong curse concentrations right now. You'll be vulnerable if—"

"I'm stronger than I was before," you cut him off. "I'm not that helpless girl anymore."

His expression softens slightly. "I never thought you were helpless. But even the strongest sorcerers need backup sometimes."

You zip your suitcase closed with finality. "Then I'll call if I need you."

"You won't call." It's not an accusation but a simple statement of fact. He knows you too well.

You avoid his gaze, focusing instead on checking your supplies. The small vials of preservation fluid catch the light, their contents shifting with an unnatural shimmer. Each one represents hours of work, experiments conducted in the darkness when pain keeps you from sleep.

"Maybe I won't need to," you reply, arranging the vials methodically in your case. Each one glows with a faint, sickly luminescence—evidence of your progress, despite what Satoru believes.

He moves closer, and you feel the familiar pull of his presence. It's always been this way—like gravity shifting when he enters a room. You steel yourself against it.

"Those veins have spread," he observes, his fingers hovering above your forearm without touching. The dark lines have indeed crept higher, branching like river deltas toward your heart. "Shoko mentioned you've been skipping check-ins."

You snap the case closed. "Shoko talks too much."

"She's worried. We both are."

"I don't need your worry," you say, but the words lack conviction. The truth is more complicated—his concern both irritates and comforts you in ways you're not ready to examine.

Outside, thunder rumbles. The storm that's been threatening all day is finally breaking. It matches your mood perfectly.

"The Kyoto branch isn't expecting you," Satoru says, changing tactics. "I checked."

You stiffen. "You're monitoring my communications now?"

"When you're being reckless? Yes." He doesn't apologize, doesn't even look remotely guilty. "The corpse lily experiments are banned for a reason. If the higher-ups find out—"

"They won't," you interrupt, turning to face him fully. "Unless someone tells them."

The accusation hangs between you. For a moment, hurt flashes across his face before his expression hardens.

"You think I'd betray you like that?"

"I think you'd do whatever you believe is necessary to protect me," you say quietly. "Even from myself."

Rain begins to lash against the windows, casting wavering shadows across the room. In the half-light, the veins on your arm seem to pulse with each thunderclap.

Satoru moves to the window, his silhouette stark against the storm-dark sky. "You remember what happened to Amanai," he says finally. "How it felt to watch someone fade away and be powerless to stop it."

The mention of Riko Amanai sends a cold spike through your chest. Of course you remember. How could you forget the blood, the screams, the way her technique had consumed her from within before the end?

"This isn't the same," you whisper, but uncertainty creeps in. The comparison is too close for comfort.

"Isn't it?" He turns back to you, blue eyes intense. "Your technique feeds on you. Every time you use it, you give away a piece of yourself."

You look down at your arm, at the network of dark veins that map your sacrifice. Each one a testament to power gained through something surrendered.

"That's the price," you say, flexing your fingers and watching the dark lines shift beneath your skin. "Every technique has one. Even yours."

Satoru's jaw tightens. You've struck a nerve.

"Mine doesn't threaten to hollow me out from the inside," he says, voice low. "Yours is different. It's... hungry."

You've felt it too—the slow, creeping emptiness that follows each use of your technique, as if something essential is being siphoned away. But you've also felt the power, the rush of connection to something vast and ancient that makes the sacrifice seem worth it.

"I'm close to understanding the reversal," you tell him, softer now. "If I can master it, I can heal what's taken. Balance the equation."

Lightning flashes, illuminating Satoru's face. For a brief moment, his carefully constructed mask slips, and you glimpse the raw fear beneath.

"And if you can't?" he asks.

“Then, I’ll deal with the consequences.”

Satoru sighs. There’s no point in arguing with you further. He moves closer to you, running his fingers through your hair affectionately. You hate how much it makes your core throb with heat. You almost preen to this touch.

"You can't deal with consequences if you're gone," he murmurs, his fingers lingering against your scalp. Despite yourself, you lean into his touch, craving the warmth that bleeds from his fingertips.

The dark veins on your arm pulse in response, as if jealous of this connection. A sharp sting radiates up to your shoulder, and you pull away with a wince.

Satoru notices immediately. "It's getting worse."

"It fluctuates," you say dismissively, though you both know it's a lie. The veins have spread past your elbow now, creeping toward your heart with each passing week.

Rain lashes against the windows of your apartment, the rhythm matching the throbbing in your arm. Outside, Tokyo glitters beneath storm clouds, oblivious to the battle waging within your flesh.

"Let me see it," Satoru says, his voice leaving no room for argument.

You hesitate, then slowly roll up your sleeve. The veins have darkened since he last saw them, now a deep violet-black that seems to absorb light. They pulse with a rhythm that doesn't match your heartbeat.

Satoru kneels before you, taking your arm in his hands. His touch is clinical now, professional, though his eyes betray his concern. "The pattern's changed," he observes. "It's forming a circuit."

You've noticed it too—the way the veins are no longer spreading randomly but creating deliberate pathways across your skin. "It's adapting," you say. "Learning."

"Learning what, exactly?" Satoru's eyes meet yours, searching.

The question hangs between you, unanswered. The truth is, you don't know. You only understand that each time you use your technique, the veins respond, as if they're recording information, storing it within your flesh.

His expression is crumbled, his bottom heavy with a pout he tries to contain. He looks away, then rubs his thumb over your wrist. He leans down and kisses a vein.

"Don't," you whisper, but make no move to pull away.

His lips are cool against your fevered skin, and something inside you stirs—not just desire, but the thing that lives in your veins now. It writhes beneath his touch, curious and hungry. You feel it reaching toward him, and panic floods your system.

“What’s this?”

"It's... reactive to you."

A flash of lightning illuminates his face, revealing a smile that doesn't reach his eyes. "Of course it is. Everything about you has always reacted to me."

"That's not what I mean," you say, finally pulling your arm away. The moment his lips leave your skin, the veins seem to calm, settling into their unsettling rhythm once more. "It's different. Like it recognizes you."

Satoru's eyes narrow, that brilliant blue catching the storm light. "Interesting. What else does it recognize?"

You stand and move to the window, pressing your forehead against the cool glass. The rain forms rivulets that mirror the patterns on your arm. "Everything. Nothing. I don't know, Satoru. Sometimes it feels like it's... cataloging. Cursed energy, emotions, intent."

Behind you, he's silent for so long you think he might have left. Then his reflection appears beside yours in the window, his height dwarfing you. “I’ll give it something important, then.”

“Sato—”

You’re interrupted by him, the softness of his mouth melting into the seam of yours.

The kiss is gentle at first, almost hesitant—so unlike him that it startles you more than any forceful gesture could. Then his hands find your waist, and the gentleness gives way to something more familiar, more desperate. Your veins pulse in time with your racing heart, dark tendrils crawling up your neck in response.

The kiss is like electricity, a current that runs from his lips straight to the veins in your arm. They pulse violently, glowing with a faint blue luminescence that matches his eyes. You gasp against his mouth, and he takes the opportunity to deepen the kiss, one hand cupping your face while the other finds your wrist again, his thumb pressing against your pulse point.

You wrench away, panting. The blue glow beneath your skin intensifies, spreading up your shoulder and flaring across your collarbone like a spiderweb of light.

"Satoru, stop." Your voice trembles. "Something's happening."

His eyes are transfixed on the pattern that now crawls across your chest, his expression a strange mixture of fascination and concern. "It's beautiful," he whispers, reaching out.

You back away. "It hurts."

That snaps him to attention. The playfulness vanishes from his face, replaced by something harder, more focused. "Tell me exactly what you feel."

"Like it's... recording you. Saving you." You clutch your arm to your chest, the veins pulsing in time with your heartbeat. "It's never done this before."

Thunder crashes outside, and the lights flicker. In that momentary darkness, your veins cast eerie shadows across the walls.

"Your technique is evolving," he says, voice low and serious in a way that makes your stomach clench. "It's not just reversing anymore, is it? It's... adapting."

Lightning flashes again, casting harsh shadows acrossl face. In that instant, he looks almost frightened—an expression so foreign on him that you reach out instinctively.

"I don't know what's happening to me," you admit. "Sometimes I feel like I'm losing myself to it."

Satoru's grip on your wrist tightens, his thumb pressing into your pulse point. "You're not losing yourself. You're becoming something else. Something more."

Your eyes flutter as you surrender to his touch. You’ve gotten better at saying no. With Satoru, it’s the first word that’s come to your head when you see him in person. It’s not fair, maybe, with how much he adores you. How good he’s been.

“You’re so good,” he drawls. “Always something otherworldly, baby.”

You let yourself let go, just this once. His mouth is on your neck and you can’t really think of anything else.

His lips move against your skin, and for a moment, the pain recedes. It's always been like this with him—the world narrows to just the two of you, everything else fading to background noise. But the relief is fleeting. The veins pulse again, more insistent this time, and you gasp.

"Satoru, wait—"

He pulls back immediately, blue eyes searching yours. The darkness of the room only makes them more striking, like ice catching moonlight. "What is it?"

"I don't think we should be doing this right now." Your voice is barely above a whisper. The veins are spreading faster now, creeping up your neck. Each new inch feels like ice water in your veins. "It's... reacting to you. To us."

A storm rages outside, but the one brewing inside you feels more dangerous. Satoru's expression shifts, that rare vulnerability replaced by calculation. He's analyzing you, the way he does with powerful curses or complex techniques.

“Is it making you feel good?” he whispers.

“Yes,” you whisper.

"Then don't fight it," he murmurs, his fingers tracing the dark veins with reverence. "Let it come."

The sensation is overwhelming—his touch against your cursed skin sending electric currents through your body. Your technique responds, the blue glow intensifying as if recognizing him, wanting him. The veins pulse in rhythm with your heartbeat, each throb a mixture of pleasure and pain so intense you can barely distinguish between them.

Satoru's fingers trace the dark patterns on your skin, following them up your arm to your collarbone. The veins pulse beneath his touch, as if responding to him directly. You shiver, feeling the strange energy inside you surge toward his fingertips like iron to a magnet.

The veins spread further, creeping across your collarbone, threading beneath the thin fabric of your shirt. You feel yourself changing, cellular memories rearranging, your cursed energy intertwining with something ancient and hungry.

Your back arches involuntarily as a surge of power courses through you. The room darkens, shadows stretching unnaturally across the walls. Outside, the storm intensifies, lightning illuminating the room in staccato flashes that reveal Satoru's face—fascinated, possessive, and something else. Something you've rarely seen there.

He kisses you and every tendril in your body electrifies. You kiss him back with more fervor than you anticipate and he moans.

You’re the one who initiates, surprisingly. You have your hands all over him, grazing the hardness tightening in his lap. He moans when you touch him. You keep touching him, knowing what makes him tick while he uselessly attempts to nip at your neck.

Your movements feel like autopilot. All automatic motions towards the next path of evolution.

Nonetheless, Satoru moans under your touch. Revels in the way your mouth feels against his skin.

Your fingertips trace the contours of his chest, leaving faint blue luminescent trails in their wake. The veins have spread further now, wrapping around your shoulders like dark vines, pulsing with each accelerated heartbeat. You should be terrified—this transformation is unprecedented, dangerous—but with Satoru here, his presence anchoring you, the fear dissolves into exhilaration.

"It's like it knows you," you breathe, watching how the cursed energy responds to him, reaching out when he's near, retreating when he pulls away. "Like it's always known you."

Thunder crashes outside, and the lights flicker, plunging the room momentarily into darkness before returning. In that split second, you see something else in the shadows—shapes moving, watching, drawn to the power emanating from your body.

"Maybe because you’ve always known me,” he mumbles.

You hum as you close your eyes, feeling the warmth in your veins. His proximity makes your skin feel electric along with whatever curse is inside of you. It gives you a heady feeling. You’re often needy with him, but this feels like a new beast.

He slowly removes your sleep shirt from you, eyes widening when he sees your skin. He’s always adored your body – every freckle, every stretch mark. With his Six Eyes, he sees you more vividly than anyone else can. When he undresses you to complete bareness, it’s like you’re glowing. 

“Satoru,” you gasp.

“Yeah, baby?”

“Touch me.”

He does. He should be more concerned, he knows this, but he feels spellbound. Your body is glowing and it’s beckoning him like a ship to a lighthouse. His hands are all over you – caressing soft skin and electric veins. He can feel your pulse thumping in tandem with his, his cock warm and throbbing at the same time. 

His fingers dive into your heat. You’re already wet. 

He groans at the sensation, pressing his face into your throat as he revels in the hummed vibrations of your moans. The more he touches you, the hotter you feel. His fingers disappearing into your cunt, melting him. Such a ripe girl – as soft as you were when he’d first fucked you.

You come without warning, thighs shivering. It’s so fast that it takes Satoru a second to recognize it. He has to wipe the drool from his mouth as he watches. 

He’s frantic when he takes you. It’s easy. His cock nudges into your cunt – when had you undressed him? Suddenly, he’s bare all over, skin to skin with you. He’s drunk on lust, sharing your delirium. He slams his cock into you quick but deep. Widens his eyes at the way you look like you were born from the moon. 

It feels way too fucking good. You always feel too good, he realizes, but this is something entirely different. Something out of his fantasies and wet dreams. You don’t even feel real to him right now. 

He can’t stop. All the sounds you make encourage him. He nearly forgets himself when he’s inside you. Magical girl. When he’s with you like this, he is no longer the strongest. Just a weak man in love.

Sometimes it makes him feel rotten. The feeling in his stomach is hot and syrupy, too sticky to get rid of. He groans as he fucks you, kissing the corner of your mouth and licking the side of your jaw. Too sweet, all of you.

Every plunge into your pussy makes you jump – he can feel it in your pulse. His eyelids dip as he pulls back to look at your face. Mouth parted, cherubic. Sweat clings to you like a second skin and Satoru has the urge to clean you with his tongue.

“F-Fuck,” he gasps, “How do you feel so fucking good?”

You attempt to reply but it comes out in nonsensical babbles. You’re too distracted from being loosened by him, your insides fluxing. Tightening on reflex and making him groan like an animal.

“Like that,” you whisper, eyes rolling back, “Keep going like that–”

Satoru swears he sees your pulse in motion right beneath your skin. Glowing like lightning against an inky sky. It can’t be real. Feels too psychedelic. When you clench around him, his eyes are all over you, watching you cum as your eyes roll back into your head.

His stomach twists into something akin to pleasure and longing. 

He applies pressure to your clit with his fingers and sees it again – your whole heart jumping with arousal. 

Your hips cant up to meet his thrusts, getting him so deep that he whimpers. 

“Gonna cum, baby –”

Every slam of his hips brings you towards the edge. You squeeze him until it’s all over, until he’s flooding you with warmth. There’s white hair in your mouth from him burying his nose into your neck. Breathing in your skin.

You gasp in pleasure, the feeling of him too heady. The way Satoru hums into your collarbone makes your cunt throb again. 

You blink your eyes open and there’s rouge all over his cheeks. He looks at you like he’s falling in love for the first time.

“Dunno if I’ll be able to let you go tomorrow morning,” Satoru sighs, pulling out gently and grunting.

“You have to,” you hum. “You’ve done it before.”

Satoru says nothing in response, only nods. He has nothing to argue about, but feelings of anxiety still pool in the place right below his lungs. Instinct is what keeps you so close to him. Without it, he only feels lost.

“Yeah,” he breathes, nodding slightly. His past boyish self wants to argue. “I have.”

[lacucarachapisser]

give me your honesty colin zabel x f!reader

warnings : smut, oral sex fem! receiving, make up sex, fingering, fluff slash angst, cringe lol, edging i guess, pwp? reader have pubes leads to insecurity, overstimulation, um yeah pretty much thats all. 1.3k wc.

a/n : im trying to get back into writing and ngl this is actually um for me since yknow, somebody has to keep writing for him. i decided to write for part two of this fics, you can read the first chap, but this could stand alone so you dont have to read the first, suit yourself. every like, comment and reblog are very appreciate, i hope you all enjoy this. and apologies if its suck. sorry.

colin holds your body tight, his fingertips pressing onto your back, afraid that his grip might slip if he loosens it even scarcely a little. your fearful thoughts, about his feelings possibly changing, his silence, and the thousand excuses he’d given are nothing compared to his fear of losing you. not again. he doesn’t want to be left again.

“i should be the one who say sorry. i was so stupid.”

you gently stroke his back with your hand, drawing gentle circles against his broad back before slowly pulling away from his embraces, however still in the same position, sitting side by side on the couch.

“you know i love you,” his voice sounds like a whimper, sad and desperate. do you know he loves you? for a split second, your mind assure you that he does, but the rest is filled with doubt about whether his heart is still truly yours.

“i got so caught up,” he crouched closely beside you, clearly unbothered about the fact that you just draw back from his body. “it’s been a really terrible time at work, i’m exhausted and became such a complete ass when you’re certainly trying to be just there for me, i’m so ungrateful. never thought about making you feel left out. i never meant to. i’m really sorry.”

you let him continue his monologue, listening and nodding all along. colin gently moves a strand of hair away from your face, slips it behind your ear. his gaze fixed on you, as if waiting for you to say something. “baby, look at me,” he says.

his brown eyes are flickering. even the lines at the corners of his eyes make him seems even more woeful. “i’ll take a day off, and we can do anything you want, together. what do you think?” you didn’t respond but it put a small smile on your face, and he returns it.

“maybe we can go to the new coffee shop with all the puppies you mentioned earlier, hm?”

no. it doesn’t feel exciting anymore.

“anything you want,” his grip on your waist becomes a little firm, lips lightly starts traveling your face, planting soft kisses on your cheeks and the tip of your nose. you remain silent. colin’s apologies have always been like this. his sorry was just like a routine, continuously repeating. there’s a long pause after those kisses drift across your face. you stay still, fidgeting with the thread in the edge of your shirt.

“let me make you feel better, yes?” he asks, slow and soft as possible. you haven’t even respond at that yet he makes another assertion “come on let me make it up to you” his eyes hungrily scanning your body and face, as if he tries to expose you. “baby, say something.” he sighed and took your face in his hands and turned it towards him.

hearing him saying how he wanted you for making a voice makes you frustrated. now that he talk. where was him all along?

“what do you want me to say?” your silky voice came out like a whisper.

“say you want me,”

he shoots you with his big brown eyes, serious but gentle. his hands start grabbing your hip making their way up slowly to your waist.

“…i want you,”

the smile emerges like a blooming flower, his eyes shone like someone actually got their first jackpot. colin pushes you slowly on the couch to make you more relax. his eyes never leave yours as he gets down and sit on the floor so now that his body perfectly wrapped in between your spread thighs.

“wait, here?” a short hesitation vibrates through your voice.

the unwillingness of waiting sparks through his expression. he nods and quickly unbuttoning your pants, working hard to pull it off. at that moment, the only thing that troubled your mind was, are you clean? like down there? and suddenly never in your entire life you have wanted to take a bath so bad.

in a blink, you have no idea where’s those fabric that supposed to cover up your private. he shamelessly leans his right cheek to your bush. it somewhat abashed you to witness him this way, clinging onto your thin curls and delicately spreading butterfly kisses across of it.

using his skillful jaw, he begins to get your thick lips apart to another. passionately making out with your fold in a very slow motion. he relentlessly hold your labia in his mouth, slightly biting and creating the most obscene sounds you have ever heard. there’s nothing you can do besides squirming and moaning, listen to the slurping sounds he made with your aching cunt.

he grasps your both thighs to prevent you from moving, face pressed to your abused pussy. he starts to add his talented tongue to play around, kitten-licking your clit causing you to jolt in surprise with intense pleasure. the smooth and sweet chuckle which leaving colin’s lips sending a sweet buzz inside, body jerking while gripping his shoulders hard.

“baby, stay still..” he speaks softly, lips still connected to your pussy which criminally doesn’t help to make you stay still at all.

“relax, enjoy it,” he continues to drown his face.

“c-colin…” body arching even more as you writhe, and that didn’t make him stop. he breaths a moan while vibrating his tongue inside you, and it feels like your head is consumed by a huge clouded cyclone.

his eyes flickering back and forth from your core up to your face, watching your reaction when he brutally gobble it up, sucking you as if a baby is suckling at their mama’s.

he starts pushing his two fingers inside you, pumping you slowly. the ecstasy sensation makes your toes curl once more, legs instinctively close, worry you might crush his head between your thighs.

“mm’ taste so good..” he mostly sounds so sweet and cute when talking, but this activity surely make him a bit different. he enjoys every respond you have made. your eyes light up and roll back uncontrollably, imagining those fingers as a violent flesh entering you with a sharp blow, touching your sweet spot over and over. thus makes you grab his hair hard and scream even harder.

“ah colin.. i’m close..”

he quicken the pace and the orgasm feels so much better when he does that. even after the long orgasm, colin still kissing you there. tasting every drop of your honeyed hot syrup that can cause him high, he definitely doesn’t wanna waste it.

“too much.. too much..” you choked and its like an electric shock escalates in every part of your body, hitting hard on your sternum. he smiles and slowly pulls away.

“i’m taking such a good care of my little girl,” he whispers, more like talking to himself rather than to you. the admiration sculptured on his face, another art that he proudly created. “you’re doing amazing, sweetheart,”

it almost makes you work up again listen to his mesmerizing voice, lips so close to your tired pussy, deliberately blowing the hot breath. he did that effortlessly, he always managed to get you work up so easily. the soreness ate your limbs and muscles you can’t move your body properly. the only thing you can do is just draw up a sluggish lazy smile.

“you okay? how was it?” still with a soft smile, a gazing wide brown eyes concerned towards you.

“hm..’mazing like always,” you both let out a little chuckle and he looks exceedingly satisfied.

“let me take you to bed, okay?” you nod and with a last strength you had, you open your arms to welcome him. he places your hands around his neck as he slips his big arms beneath your body, grab and scoop you up in one swing whilst he gets up. he affectionately kisses you on your temple before walking to your shared bed.

“good. i need to get you more comfortable,” you come up with nothing as you think about what’s gonna happen next, whether he’ll let you rest or he’ll take his turn, either way you’d end up take it gladly.

•

•

•

another notes: yes i do remember someone asked me to do pt 2, literally only one person and of course why not. this is for you jazzy @lockedxroses not sure if you remember hehe but yeah this also for all colin’s wives out there. love yall sm<3

[opalemo]

homecoming. ✿

the ache of longing, the spark of anticipation, the joy of reunion. the way they greet you at the airport when you finally arrive home.

xiao / childe / scaramouche & gn reader. just sweet happy moments.

xiao

xiao is scared for an entire week leading up to your return. it’s so stupid how he’s afraid of the thing he wants the most, but he has no idea what he’s supposed to do or how he’s supposed to act. does he buy you gifts? clean your room? bring you flowers? does he act normal or extra nice? does he say he missed you? but you already know that… so should he say he loves you more than anything and never wants you to leave without him again?

okay, he probably can’t manage telling you that without combusting on the spot.

as the date draws nearer xiao feels his heart grow lighter in anticipation - the weight of waiting and longing slowly dissipating as the sun rises over the dawn of your arrival.

he can sense you coming before he even lays eyes on you, bobbing in and out among the sea of other people rushing out and celebrating reunions with their loved ones. anxiety gnaws at his thoughts - what if you’re different? what if you’re unhappy to be back? what if you realised you’re actually better off without him?

“hi, xiao.”

your voice is still as beautiful as ever. so are those eyes, your smile, you. he opens his mouth to say sorry for zoning out and for doubting you for no reason but before he can speak, your hands are on his collar and your lips are on his for the first time in what feels like forever.

your fingertips drag softly across his jaw.

“i’ve missed you”.

xiao’s embrace is gentle in spite of his poorly concealed desperation. you, on the contrary, completely fling yourself into his arms. his hands shake with unbridled excitement, unfamiliar euphoria consuming his very being.

unlike the excruciating grip his mind usually has on him, this feeling is so light in every way.

your laugh bubbles against his chest, and he realises how much he missed the sound - the sound of happiness. yours is his, and his is yours.

childe

you’re on high alert, scanning the rows of people left and right for that familiar mop of ginger hair. with the way your heart is pumping you’d think you were more afraid than excited. after all, dating your beloved ajax of all people means you have to be prepared for a jumpscare at absolutely any second. and the fact that you don’t see him anywhere doesn’t disappoint you or make your heart drop. with the way he was counting down the weeks, days, hours to this moment, there’s no way he would forget or even be a second late to pick you up. it just makes you question what the hell he’s up to this time.

you look down at your phone to check the time and whether or not he’s texted you. nothing yet. you scroll through his instagram to see if he’s uploaded anything. nothing.

you only realise your mistake when you look back up again.

slowly turning around, you come to face that cheeky grin, his smile stretched as wide as ever, and you have to try and contain a laugh at his obvious childlike excitement at being able to sneak up behind you.

it sounds cheesy, but you swear the whole world slows down when you’re finally in his arms again.

childe swings you around about five times and proceeds to squeeze the very life out of you (you can’t breathe and this is literally so embarrassing, but you couldn’t care less). he’s here, he’s alive, and he’s still as annoying as ever - just the way you like (love) him.

scaramouche

to any bystander, it would’ve appeared as if he didn’t even miss you. hell, why was he waiting for you at the airport in the first place? did you coerce him into it? threaten to break up with him?

in fact, he thinks to himself, that sounds more like something i would do.

you don’t even need to look for him when you enter the arrivals area - he’s standing at the back near the exit, hood on, headphones in, arms crossed like some wannabe gangster trying to look intimidating. he pretends not to notice you waving (embarrassingly) at him, but you know he does - you know he’s simply overjoyed to see you.

just expresses it in a strange way is all. not that you’re complaining.

“kuni!” you squeal, letting go of your suitcase to jump into his arms. he uncrosses his arms so fast to catch you (and your suitcase which is now rolling away), holding you tight against his chest like you might fall down and disintegrate if he doesn’t. you can’t see his face, but you know he’s trying so hard to contain a blush and a smile right now.

when he finally lets go to take you to his car, he mutters a “will you stop holding onto me or what?” under his breath.

the audacity.

he kisses you when you get in the car.

[jnnul]

I JUST READ THE DATING RINA DRABBLE AND DIED HEADASS……………… do u have any thoughts for dating ning? :3

word count: 933 words a/n: LMAOOOO that's so real anonnie that's me with ningrina on any given day tbh genres: fluff and nsfw content

ningning is THE girlfriend tbh

very feminine, very princess vibes

but i feel like ningning is the epitome of a 50/50 girlie

she will definitely expect princess treatment but she will also def be giving princess treatment

it doesn't matter age, gender, race, nationality

you are her princess™️ just like she is your princess™️

for example, she might be the one to ask you out on a date

but once you hit it off, she'll expect you to be the one to make it official

i honestly feel like ningning would ask you out within like a couple hours of meeting you

she gets your number, thinks you're cute, and then asks you out on a date

and on that first date, she puts her expectations for a relationship out in the open and highkey she's just so confident in what she wants that you're like ???

i'm??? in love with her???

(she knows you are)

once you ask her to be your girlfriend, she absolutely dotes on you

there's a new side of her that you've never seen before

she's like a sweet best friend that also drops 2 grand on w/o batting an eye bc she saw you eyeing a pretty watch and what her baby looks at, her baby gets

and she expects that you love her like that too!!

not monetarily, but definitely at least in emotional aspects

affirm her feelings, express how much you love her, initiating dates, buying her flowers randomly to surprise her

but outside of that, she wants you to be her best friend and vice versa

like she genuinely wants to have inside jokes w you, do stupid things w you, and lowk wants to be your absolute best friend

def isn't very controlling and she herself has a lot of friends

but she def prioritizes you the most out of everyone

and kinda wants you to do the same (or at least have her in the top 3)

is actually the best person to rant to bc she'll just listen to you like this 😍 while you're swearing like a sailor

will def join in and bash whoever's making her bb feel bad

but thinks you're so incredibly lovable regardless

lowk loves showing you off in public?

like she doesn't care when you're wearing revealing clothing or when ppl are checking you out, in front of her, mind you

bc she knows that you're hot and she appreciates you knowing that too

what she draws the line at tho is literally anyone threatening her spot in closeness to you

lowk will get toxic abt it too

like if she feels like you met someone who's able to make you laugh like she does, she immediately brings it up to you

and asks you to distance yourself from them

unless she's 100% sure that it's platonic from their side

bc she trusts her baby

but not the rest of the world

hand in hand w the whole showing you off/best friend thing

she loves going clubbing w you!!

the best thing abt dating ningning is that she makes you embrace life to the fullest

genuinely 0 shits given to the world

you're violently drunk after 12 shots at the club? she's holding your hair/clothes back as you hurl your guts out and she's still having the time of her life

will take so many pics of you two together

like actually she has to upgrade her icloud storage every 3 months

bc she doesn't want to delete a single picture of you

or the two of you tgt

probably singlehandedly supporting apple atp

so incredibly in love w you <333

[NSFW CONTENT BELOW]

ik so many ppl hc her as a pillow princess

and she def has her moments!! where she just wants to be spoiled rotten

but she love love LOVES putting in the work when y'all are getting nasty

highkey that's one of the only things she'll rlly go 75/25 on

she has an y/n fixation so you can expect her to go down on you (wtv that looks like for you!!) 25/8

you're watching tv? her hands are in your pants

you're washing the dishes? she's backhugging you and her hands are in your pants

you're breathing? her hands are down your pants

NINGNING JUST WANTS TO MAKE YOU FEEL GOOD ALL THE DAMN TIME

i don't rlly think she's into power play

but she's def prone to 'taking the lead' in bed

i also think that once you guys get more comfortable w each other, she lets out her inner freak

like i genuinely think that she'd leave you tied to the bed w a vibrator at your core and just watch you

she thinks you look gorgeous when you cum

and therefore, overstimulates you whenever she can

not a fan of edging bc she hates seeing you cry

but she will use it against you if she ever feels like you're not loving her as hard as she wants to be!!

also lots of romantic, heated sex

where she pushes you up against a wall and kisses the shit out of you

and then takes you to the bedroom where she has a bunch of fairy lights and candles lit

she's v v spontaneous tho so she can flip the vibe however you want!! will never do the same thing twice!!

aftercare has to be 50/50 tho!! she runs you a bath and massages all of the sore spots and you make her cheese toasties <333

overall, ningning who is your needy/sexy/silly best friend and girlfriend all in one!!

[pixiesfz]

p3 of this ….more jill next chapter I promise

lyrics more than words j.r x reader

plot: you get back into song writting after the incident

warning: mentions of sa and assault, it ends with us themed

She apologized.

She apologized a thousand times.

And for some stupid fucking reason you forgave her.

Why?

It could’ve been because you didn’t have many friends, she promised it was a one-time thing and it wouldn’t happen again.

You had no parents to go to.

It was a Thursday night, Ellie was opening the red wine to celebrate your eight-month anniversary but you didn’t find yourself excited. You sat on the ground of the living room, no matter how much it numbed your bottom half you hadn’t sat on the couch since the ‘incident’.

Ellie walked in with the wine and a charcuterie board you had made earlier and sat down on the couch behind you.  

“How was work?” You asked and Ellie played with your hair “The usual, clients lying and me having to cover up for them” She shrugged and you nodded.

“How about you?” Ellie asked and you thought about it.

You hadn’t had the most inspiration to write lately, at least the inspiration to write good songs, songs that weren’t filled with heartache.

“I’ve got a bit of writer's block at the minute,” you told her and she furrowed her brows.

Just listen to your old songs, you said that little things like that help” You nodded your head “Maybe”.

You tried.

Really fucking tried.

But it all leads to crying on your studio’s couch.

Listening to how much you once loved Ellie, trusted her, called her your home.

Now you dreaded going to her home, checked twice before she sat next to her and looked away once you told her you love her.

It wasn’t until you dug through your papers and found your old songs from high school you found the motivation to put your pen to a page.

The thoughts about your childhood, the love that you shared with Jill, the adrenaline that ran through you both when you ran away from your dates at the school dance to go into the only open classroom where you could still hear the music.

But then came the thoughts of sadness. You couldn’t hold her in public, or share kisses in the street. You couldn’t gush to your friends about her, the only person you could talk about Jill with… was Jill.

The whole ordeal was frustrating but when you thought back to it, you never regretted a single thing.

Your words wrote themselves on the page as you hummed a melody, this song was yours, and yours only.

You didn’t let anyone read it.

Not even Olivia who begged and begged, you hid it in your draw in your private office at the studio, it was reserved for no eyes but your own.

Now back into your groove, you watched as Ellie walked into your office with a bouquet.

Shocked you leaned back “Hi El, what are you doing here?” you asked and she shrugged “Just thought I’d say hi, you’ve been working hard and staying after hours” She smiled and you blushed.

It was a sweet gesture, and you hadn’t even noticed that everyone had left and you were the only one left.

“Well, is this for me?” you ask, pointing at the flowers and Ellie smirks “It’s actually for Olivia,” she says before you both laughed

“I just wanted to say I’m proud of you” she told you before handing them out “Let me grab a vase from the kitchen spot” you told her, placing a kiss on her cheek before leaving the office door.

Ellie looked around your office as you left, noticing a small key next to your keyboard, furrowing her brows she picked it up and looked around for a place it could go into.

You had always been trustworthy into the relationship and would always be loyal but ever since the game Ellie saw your eyes twinkle when Jill said hello to you.

She had never seen you look at her that way.

So she took it out on you that same night, she regretted it afterwards. When you forgave her she knew she had to keep you forever. You were hers.

When she finally found the keyhole at your desk she opened the draw to find pieces of paper with lyrics on it, a melody on the back.

‘secret love song’

Ellie annotated your writing as she read, this couln’t have been an old writing piece as your handwriting had changed and your writing was slightly mess, some of the letters connecting which meant you were on a roll, the feelings pouring out of you as you wrote.

Anger started to pour out of her, dropping the flowers onto your floor.

You walked in after and stopped at the door when you noticed what papers she had in her hands.

Fear washed over you.

“Ellie?” you asked, walking slowly to her, placing the vase down at your desk.

“When did you write this?” she asked and you panicked “Years ago” you shrugged and she placed it down “You’re lying”

You stepped back “Ellie-“

“Are you cheating on me?”

You rolled your eyes “no I am not cheating on you, this song is about something that happened years ago” you told her, ripping it from her hands.

It seemed to be enough reassurance for her since her shoulders sagged down “I just get self-conscious you know” she said and you nodded, stepping back from the girl.

You were scared

No.

You were petrified.

Stepping to the desk you grabbed the glass vase, putting it as far away as possible.

You looked from the vase and back to Ellie.

You shouldn’t have to stand with your partner and hide objects from them.

You had to leave.

[wannaeatramyeon]

Ryuhei Kuroda x Reader: Flowers

G/N. He's still pathetic, but you've claimed this pathetic mess.

"For our first date!"

Ryuhei grins, placing a bouquet of flowers on your desk.

You glance down at the extravagant arrangement. A small pink card cushioned between petals with what looks like a crude drawing of two people humping and a lipstick kiss.

You look back up at Ryuhei, and his suspiciously red lips, and sigh. You find yourself doing so more and more these days ever since you two became a thing.

(It's really your own fault, you've got no-one else to blame.

For months, it was very much casual. No strings attached. And then, well. You don't know what happened.

…That’s not actually true.

It was casual until it wasn't and you found yourself daydreaming and thinking about him and his texts would make you smile and seeing him in the office would perk up your day. You would go for lunches just the two of you and instead of kicking him out after sex, he would stay the night and eventually he had a side of the bed that belonged to him and matching toothbrushes, and would cook you breakfast and lunch and dinner in a ridiculous frilly apron you know isn’t yours.

It was casual until it became painfully domesticated. 

And when he asked you on an official date, you said yes before he could even finish his sentence.

You know exactly what happened, and yes. It’s your own fault.)

"Aren't you supposed to give me these on our actual date?"

He tilts his head, scratching at his temple. "Umm... sure. I can do that too!"

Which is how you ended up with a second bouquet later that evening. Squashed between yourself and Ryuhei as you weave through the roads of Seoul on his bike.

Bless this idiot.

.

.

The third one appears on your desk the next morning.

"For last night :)" it reads in Ryuhei's chicken scratch, and below, an explicit drawing of two people together, one on their knees and-

Another sigh. It's sweet really, you suppose.

You've never received flowers for sleeping with someone before.

.

.

Sometimes you wonder if this is a good idea and then you will notice Ryuhei following you around looking at you like the moon shines out of your ass and you’re the only thing that matters.

And then you realise that it’s not a bad idea.

.

.

Ryuhei holds out another bouquet

"Happy one week anniversary!" He beams, a rose between his teeth and you don't know whether to throw up or to swoon.

"...Swoon?" You think to yourself, when you're alone in your office and the only traces of Ryuhei left are the flowers and the hickey below your collar. Heavens above, six months ago you found him pathetic as hell. "Damn it, Y/N. He’s turning you soft."

.

.

"Kuroda, clear this up," Samuel scowls at the petals spread over the boardroom table and the lit candles covering every surface.

"Must be Kenta," Ryuhei shrugs.

Samuel readjusts his glasses and squints at the pattern,"You are saying that Magami wrote ‘I love Y/N' with the petals," he deadpans.

“Must have.” Ryuhei ignores Samuel’s left eye twitching, and flips him off.

"You-!"

Ryuhei hears the sound of your voice and immediately shoots his head up like a meerkat. He spots you entering and leaps out of his seat. "Y/N!"

He doesn't notice that you're engaged in an important conversation with Eugene, nor that Samuel is a second away from grabbing his brass knuckles.

"Happy one month anniversary!" he smiles, and pulls out a red envelope from his pocket, sprayed liberally with cologne. He spent extra care on the drawing this time too. 

You resist gagging and ignore the look of judgement from everyone around you. Eugene's lips are thinner than you've ever seen and Samuel looks like he wants to strangle both you and Ryuhei.

You know for sure this has set your reputation back-

But you look at Ryuhei, with his stupid card and stupid hair and his stupid grin and his stupid fond look and you wonder if this is how you look to everyone these days.

You can’t bring yourself to care. He makes you happy.

"Happy one month," you tell him and he plants a kiss, messy and obnoxious with a MWAH!, on your cheek.

[heeliopheelia]

"everything reminds me of you and it's driving me insane" (jay x fem! reader)

genre: smut word count: 0.7k requested by @forjongseong ♡

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!!

a/n: the last fic for the event!! i had so much fun guys, will definitely do it again once we hit another milestone!! nana babe i'm sorry it took me so long 🤍

masterlist

The floor is already drenched when Jay pulls out his thick fingers out of you. Letting go of his firm grip on your hips, he pulls away slightly to smirk at your trembling thighs as you struggle to keep yourself up on your feet.

"Fuck!" You gasp breathlessly, fingers clutching on the edge of the marble kitchen counter for your dear life.

If somebody told you that this is how the party would end – with your ex boyfriend fingering you stupid in the apartment that the two of you used to share together, you doubt you'd ever believe them... Or maybe you would?

With the way your heart increased three times on its pace when you first saw Jay after almost half a year of being deprived from his ridiculously handsome face – it's actually quite obvious you'd bend to every will of the man you're still shamefully in love with.

Even though you were the one who initiated the break up in the first place.

"Couldn't wait to get my hands on you, sweetheart," Jay mutters, closing the distance between the two of you again and grabbing you by your waist to pull you flush to his clothed bulge.

"Oh, really?" You scoff quietly, fingers brushing the sweaty hair away from your forehead as you turn your head to him over your shoulder. "Could've fooled me with this bitch hanging on your neck the entire night."

"No need to be so jealous. She could never be you," he chuckles underneath his breath and before you know his pants and underwear are dropped to the floor and he rubs his hard cock over your swollen folds. You moan simultaneously when he finally slides it inside of you, bottoming out slowly. Jay's knees feel as if made of cotton when he feels you clenching around him and now he's damn sure that you were literally molded just for him. "Missed this pussy so much," he breathes out, burying his face in the crook of your neck.

He's got you caged in between his arms and the counter as his deep thrusts rock your body into the cold surface. You're already dizzy from the two previous orgasms you've had couple minutes before, and now as you listen to his ragged breaths into your neck, all of your senses are completely blocked out in the favor of him.

The way he fucks you is so messy, so needy and it's thrilling and it's so Jay that you can't help but let your tongue run loose and spill your guts to him right then and there.

"There hasn't been a day that I didn't think about you. Everything reminds me of you and it's driving me insane. Even that stupid orchid I've seen on my way back home in a flower shop today," you confess breathlessly, voice stuttering with every thrust of his. Jay immediately catches the reference to your second date when he bought you the pink flower you desired so much. "We were so good together, weren't we, Jay?"

He groans, grabbing your hips a little firmer. "Shit, that we were, sweetheart."

Your abused hole squelches and drips after each time he bottoms out and you let out a whimper, body draping over the counter as you grip the wooden cupboard with your shaky hand. The sound only spurs him on to fuck you even harder, better, his eyes clenching tightly as he relishes in your small whines of his name. His fingers dig into the plush of your hips as he draws his body into you from behind, panting loudly and pushing you even further into the counter.

When your walls tighten nearly painfully around him, that's when he knows your third orgasm begins to build up. He snaps his hips faster and with you calling his name over and over again, you eventually let go and feel the hot pleasure swallow your tired body again.

It's impossible for him to last any longer with you falling apart before him, your doughy cunt throbbing around him mercilessly, and Jay cums hard, body slouching on top of yours as he holds you tightly with face pressed to your neck.

And maybe, just maybe you're not the only one who's been having a hard time moving on from your irrational decision all these months ago.

And you're sure of that when you feel his arms turning your body around, eyes looking softly into yours before he pulls on your chin and plants a hungry kiss on your wet lips.

permanent taglist: @bambisgirl @arizejkt19 @luvmura @milisabunny @cathy-1997 @satoruskitchenrag @ramenoil @jenjnk @jaylaxies @yoongspi @nichoswag @s00buwu @dazzlingligth