#i just feel like he feels so out of nowhere...

[lily-bisque]

𝒹oin' 𝓉ime 𓍯𓂃 𝓈ummer 𝒷ash 𝒸ollab 🐚

your dream destination on the coast of the amalfi waters in italy awaits 𓂃 ོ☼𓂃

teaser ˚⋆𓇼˚⊹

pairing: assistantfem!reader x childhoodfriend/prostitute!toji

synopsis: sparkling turquoise waters, hidden coves, and limoncello for days in the illustrious city on the amalfi coast was just how you wanted to start your work-trip—now instead struggling to find a room for the night thanks to your arrogant boss leaving you to fend for yourself. yet your hopes begin to float just above the surface when your fate crashes with your old childhood neighbor with a questionable past but an annoyingly dashing charm beneath the sun-kissed shore glow. it really is a small world after all.

contents: tba, nothing in this teaser!

a/n: this oneshot is part of my summer bash collab that i have been lucky enough to get sixteen other writers on board with! was far too excited writing this, so here's a little snippet. comment to be tagged on the oneshot once it's posted <3

“You know, the whole ‘macho mystery man’ look is getting old,” you deadpanned with finger quotes, despite him not being able to see it. “I’ve literally seen you trip over your own feet and fling your arms at nothing.”

“Well, thankfully I’ll only have to indulge in your presence for the evening since I’m kicking you out at dawn,” he retorted, kicking the door open after shoving his key into the keyhole.

“Yeah yeah I’ll get out of your hair—.” You cut yourself off when you got a view of the room. Don’t get it wrong here, the room was fucking gorgeous.

The issue? There was a singular bed—no connecting door to another room or anything.

What the hell were you expecting?

You huffed a laugh, swiveling your head to your childhood friend. “So I’m guessing this is where I’m staying and you’ve got another room?”

He looked at you over his shoulder as he tossed your bag onto the mussed mattress, where you can only assume he slept in the night before. “Fuck are you talking about? There’s a pullout couch.”

You laughed incredulously at him, not even caring that you could get a noise complaint at this hour. “...Seriously?”

He turned around, crossing his arms over his chest and cocking his head. “Yeah. Wouldn’t even be our first time sharing a room, anyway.”

You twitched at that, your heart stalling in your chest for a moment as words died on your tongue. Give it to Toji for making things weird.

“Uhm. Just… give me a second.”

You hurried out of the room, shuffling down the winding steps and stopping right before the jaded receptionist at the front, heart roaring in your ears. “Are you guys fully booked for the night?”

She had her legs and arms crossed, peering up at you whilst smacking her gum, an annoyed and tired expression coloring her. She leaned over the computer and clicked a few things out of your view. “We’ve got one room left.”

You breathed a sigh of relief, feeling your shoulders slump. “Perfect. I’ll take it.”

She gave you a feigned smile. “It’s our presidential suite, however. It requires proof of high status such as dignitaries or heads of states. Otherwise, we keep it open.”

You furrowed your eyebrows at that. “What? Who the hell cares who I am if I’m a paying customer?”

She shrugged, panning her screen towards you. “Well, can you afford it?”

Your gaze followed the screen, squinting against the harsh light, when you made out the multiple zero’s coming after the euro symbol, your maw falling slack.

The walk back to Toji’s suite was a dreadful one, being told that every other hotel in a thirty mile radius was also booked out, dragging your feet and pushing the door open with your head downcast.

The television was now droning on with some static-y hotel-like cable sitcom that aired after hours, enough to make you shiver.

Your bags were in the same place Toji had left them, but the man was nowhere to be seen. Your eyebrows drew in as your head turned on a swivel, peeking into the bathroom and the closet warily, as if he were waiting to jump out and catch you off guard like a deer in headlights, but no.

“Oi. Get in here,” you heard his voice bellow past the ajar balcony door.

Your head cocked curiously, following the sound out onto the balcony, the white drapes flitting in the warm night breeze. Peering over the edge, you could see Toji just one floor down, veiny forearms and broad shoulders draped over the edge of some hot tub, the roman-style pool beside it empty.

It was a beautiful set-up, the area littered with potted plants and shrubbery from poppies to sunflowers to roses, giving it a bright glow even in the night.

Toji was sporting black swim trousers, shirtless as the water pooled around his massive pecs. Your thighs subconsciously rubbed against each other at the drooling sight, before you tore your gaze to match his, just the slightest bit curious how on Earth he made it down there without you noticing.

You could imagine him scaling the balcony wall, hopping down barefoot all primal-like.

Hugging yourself, you leaned down to yell-whisper, “Uh, no thanks. I think I’ll just get some sleep.”

He ran his tongue over his lower lip, eyes dancing across you. “Couldn’t get a room, huh?”

You shook your head in defeat.

“Alright, well don’t let your first night in La Dolce Vita go to waste just because you’re a little scared of talking to me,” he teased with an accusatory tone, adjusting his manspread. 

You rolled your eyes at his gall, ready to bite back. “I’m not scared of you, Fushiguro.”

“Prove it, bird.” He called out immediately, voice husky and resonating through the charged air.

You clicked your tongue, narrowing your eyes, the slightest bit pissed that Toji was unbelievably talented at riling you up. He knew you far too well, even after all this time.

“Give me five minutes.”

You turned on your heel, heading back into the room and parsing through your bag for your swim trunks.

You’d brought two.

One that you could wear around your boss and her boyfriend without feeling unprofessional—a basic white one piece with a few frills, modest enough. The second, however, was a black strappy two-piece that quite literally left nothing to imagination.

You’d packed the latter in case you’d had a night to yourself and would be able to possibly hook up with someone fun you’d come across, a bit of a reach of your expectations for the weekend but you always came prepared nonetheless.

That’s not what you were planning here though, with Toji—no way in hell, that was nowhere near the front of your mind… ahem.

You simply wanted to get back at the audacious man. Let him know if he could make you uncomfortable, you had no issue doing the same to him.

You grabbed a lotus claw clip and tied your hair up, slipping into the suit and adjusting it so that your cleavage was on full view before slipping your sandals on and padding quickly down.

[ivyyisbored22]

𝐏𝐫𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐲 𝐩𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐞?—𝘉𝘢𝘯𝘨 𝘊𝘩𝘢𝘯 𝘹 (𝘧𝘦𝘮) 𝘙𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳

A Stray Kids one shot

Synopsis: When's the best time to ask him for a new addition to the household? When he's in the middle of loving you obviously.

Warnings: SMUT 🔞. Unprotected sex. A bit rough then sweet, fluff fluff, a bit of humour, pet names.

Minors do no interact!!!

Note: Sorry for my inactivity, I've been busy with work and things, I didn't get much time to write. Here's a quick short one shot I came up with when waiting for the train.

If this isn't your thing, you're more than welcome to skip it. Reblogs, likes, comments and feedbacks are always appreciated.

ɪ'ᴠᴇ ᴘʀᴏᴏꜰ ʀᴇᴀᴅ ɪᴛ ᴀ ᴍɪʟʟɪᴏɴ ᴛɪᴍᴇꜱ ʙᴜᴛ ɪꜰ ʏᴏᴜ ꜱᴘᴏᴛ ᴀ ᴍɪꜱᴛᴀᴋᴇ ꜱᴏᴍᴇᴡʜᴇʀᴇ, ᴘʟᴇᴀꜱᴇ ʟᴇᴛ ᴍᴇ ᴋɴᴏᴡ.

Word count:2.2k

𝑬𝑵𝑱𝑶𝒀!

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Soft rain drops pattered gently against the windows, a soothing lullaby in the background of your dimly lit shared bedroom.

The air was thick with sex and love, sheets tangled around your bodies, skin to skin, breath on breath, limbs twined like muscle memory.

It wasn't a rough night but rather slow and sweet, the kind of night when even silence felt like a conversation.

Chan was hovering over you, his weight carefully bracing on his arm while his other hand held you, rocking his hips, letting out a gentle growl.

His mouth met the hollow of your throat, then your collarbones, leaving a trail of open mouthed kisses as your legs wrapped loosely around his waist.

"So fucking good for me baby," his voice rumbled across your chest and you pulled him deeper, your walls fluttering around the thick length of his cock disappearing inside of your sloppy cunt.

A moan escaped your throat, nails dragging across his shoulder blades, the warmth between you building like the night had nowhere else to be.

You loved when he was like this. Focused. Gentle. Making love to you like he had all the time in the world.

Your wrapped your arms around his neck, making his eyes lock with yours, before you leaned up, pressing your lips on his, slipping your tongue past in, swallowing his sounds of pleasure.

You pulled back just a bit, to look back into his whiskey eyes, before the question that has been going through your mind for the last few days slipped out.

"Channie," you mumbled between a moan and a breathless giggle, voice quiet against the sound of flesh against flesh.

"Hmm?" His brows furrowed gently, lips lightly swollen.

“If I let you finish,” you murmured, barely holding back a smile, “can I get a cat?”

He blinked. Then froze mid thrust. Like he was trying to compute whether he heard you right while still buried inside you.

“…What?”

"Pretty please?" You cooed, raking your fingers through his sweat damp hair. "A small Ragdoll or a Persian or even an orange one. You can choose," you clenched around him involuntarily making him grunt as you spoke.

"Can we get a kitty?"

Chan was still frozen above you, blinking like his brain had just bluescreened. You watched, amused, as about five different emotions flickered across his face in rapid succession.

“…Did you just bribe me with sex for a cat?” he asked, breathless, hips twitching as if debating whether to punish you or pull out and give you a full interrogation.

You gave a small, devilish grin. “Depends. Is it working?”

He let out a groan—half frustration, half admiration—and pressed above you, still careful not to crush you with this weight, nose brushing yours. “You’re unbelievable,” he mumbled into your cheek, but you could feel the smile pulling at his lips.

“And yet,” you teased, "you’re still inside me."

His laugh was muffled against your throat. “I swear, you only pull this kind of shit when I’m literally balls deep in you.” He nipped at your jaw lightly, then pulled back just enough to look into your eyes again.

“A cat, baby?”

Before you could reply, his hips snapped forward in a hard thrust that made you gasp loudly, making you arch into him and he continued, tearing another gasp.

"You,"—thrust—"want a cat?" He pushed again then stopped mid thrust, making you whimper for breaking his pace.

"Yeah, I want a cat. We can—ah—," he slammed into you before you could finish the sentence. Your walls hugged him tighter, making him half moan and growl as he drilled harder into your greedy cunt.

"Go on, you were saying baby?" Chan drawled, voice smug and wrecked at the same time. His thrusts slowed to a cruel pace, pulling all the way out until only the tip teased your entrance, then sliding back in with a languid grind that had your toes curling.

You clutched at his shoulders, barely able to breathe, let alone speak. “I—Chan—”

His grin turned devilish. “Come on, I wanna hear it. Tell me all about this kitty you want while I’m buried deep in this sweet little pussy.”

“Fuck—” you choked on the curse as he angled his hips and hit that spot inside you that made your vision blur.

He groaned low, cock twitching from how tightly your walls hugged him. “You feel that? No kitty talk eh? Only dick.”

You could’ve cried from how good it felt, from how ridiculous he was, from the fact that you knew he’d say yes in the end and was just dragging this out to mess with you.

“I-It could sleep at the end of the bed,” you gasped out stubbornly, clawing at his back. “It wouldn’t bother you—”

He snorted. “You think anything could sleep when you sound like this under me? You want that innocent creature to watch you get wrecked or what?"

To prove his point, he pistoned into you again, faster now, his rhythm building with every slick, filthy slap of skin against skin.

You let out a loud breathy moan, your nails digging crescents into his back as your hips bucked instinctively to meet his thrusts.

Each roll of his hips was deeper, filthier, like he was determined to fuck the idea of a cat right out of your brain.

It was working. Or maybe not.

“Chan—Channie—”

“What, baby?” he panted, voice husky. “That little cat still on your mind? Or is your brain too dumbed out from my cock to remember what you were bribing me for?”

You whimpered—part scandalized, part turned on beyond belief. Chan's mouth twitched at your reaction. He loved seeing you like this. Falling apart while still trying to argue.

“You were gonna say?” he prompted, cock grinding right into that spot again, drawing a sharp gasp from your lips. “Hmm? Something about how it’ll behave? Maybe we can train it to wait outside the room when you’re on your knees for me?”

Your eyes rolled back at the mental image, your body already trembling again from how close you were, feeling the tight knot down at the base of your spine close to snapping.

“You’re awful,” you breathed.

“And you,” he groaned, dipping to suck a bruise into your collarbone, “are a terrible negotiator. You bring up cats mid-fuck and expect me to say no?”

“Then say yes,” you moaned, clenching around him, your voice climbing pitch with every deep thrust. “Just say yes and I’ll—I’ll be good.”

He smirked against your skin, his thumb finding your clit and circling it lazily. “You’re already being so good for me, baby. Look at you, shaking under me and begging for a kitten while getting fucked.”

“Chan—!”

He didn’t let up, pushing into you so fast now it was maddening.

“You want a cat?” he whispered, nose brushing your cheek as he kissed the corner of your lips. “You'll get a cat. But you better come hard for me. Cream all over this cock, baby. Show me you really deserve it.”

The earlier gentle rolls of his hips now turned punishing and ruthless, pounding into you hard enough to bang the headboard against the wall.

You didn’t even have time to process the demand before it slammed into you, your orgasm ripped through you like lightning, thighs shaking, tears brimming at the corners of your eyes as your walls spasmed around him.

You let out a high, broken cry, nails clawing into his skin as your entire body writhed beneath him.

“Fuck, that’s it—fuck, baby, you’re so fucking pretty when you come,” Chan gritted through his teeth, barely holding on as he watched you fall apart.

“Gonna fill you up, yeah? Stuff you full and then we can go get you a kitten with my cum dripping down your thighs. How’s that sound?”

You whimpered something incoherent, your body too wrecked to argue. With one final thrust, Chan's head fell between your neck and shoulder, hot white ribbons painting your insides, his body twitching as he collapsed, breaths ragged from the force of it.

You held him close, inhaling the musky scent of his colonge clinging onto his sweaty skin, the two of you remained tangled in each other till you caught your breaths.

His cock was sheathed inside your warm cunt till the continuous twitching stopped, yet after he remained in as if he couldn't let you go.

After what was like long minutes, he slowly slid out, dropping to your side, pulling you into his chest.

He leaned forward, capturing your lips, all tongue, hot and messy, almost as if he couldn't get enough of the way your mouth tasted.

"So," you pulled back softly, "what are we going to name him?" You asked, tracing lazy circles over his chest.

Chan let out a groggy laugh, eyes closing, his arm snug around your waist. “You mean if he survives watching his owners rail each other into the mattress every night?”

You slapped his chest gently, giggling. “Stop. He’ll be innocent.”

“He’ll be traumatized,” Chan said without missing a beat, cracking one eye open to look at you. His gaze was soft, heavy-lidded, full of affection.

"I suppose I like the name Mochi." He said after a few seconds. "Round, sweet and soft, like his mommy."

Your cheeks bloomed in a faint shade of pink and you nuzzled close into Chan's chest, holding him as close as humanly possible.

"I like that name." You mumbled.

Chan kissed the top of your head, wrapping his arms tighter around you, smiling, mentally preparing himself to bring a new addition into the household.

***

For the next few weeks, you and Chan rearranged your apartment to welcome a kitten and went to the local shelter to find a baby to give him a new home.

Today was finally the day to bring him home.

The shelter was quiet that morning, warm beams of sunlight spilling through the windows and casting soft glows on the tiled floors. You stood beside Chan, your fingers laced with his, the anticipation buzzing low in your chest like static.

“This is it,” you whispered, eyes flitting from one small enclosure to another, all filled with twitching whiskers, lazy stretches, and sleepy meows.

Chan gave your hand a small squeeze. “We’re really doing this.” He sounded a little in awe.

You walked slowly past each enclosure, the two of you crouching down now and then to coo at the kittens. There was a loud ginger tabby pouncing on its siblings, a jet-black ball of fluff who hissed at everything, and a quiet white one that refused to wake up.

Then you saw him.

A light grey tabby kitten with darker stripes along its head and body and impossibly round eyes looking up at you both curiously. He blinked sleepily up at you, then gave a tiny chirp and trotted right to the front of the enclosure, pawing at the glass like he’d been waiting for you.

Your heart clenched.

“Chan,” you whispered, voice breaking into a smile. “It’s him.”

Chan crouched down beside you, eyes wide with gentle wonder. The kitten tilted his head, then flopped on his side dramatically, tiny pink paws stretching out as if to say, take me home already.

You giggled, wiping at the corner of your eye, surprised to find yourself tearing up. “I love him.”

Chan looked over at you, soft and still, then kissed your temple.

“Then he’s ours.”

~

The ride back home was filled meows from the carrier and the sound of your giggles as Mochi pawed at the door, desperate to be let out.

Chan kept glancing over at you at red lights, his heart doing ridiculous things at the way you cooed and whispered to your new fur baby like he was the most precious thing in the world.

Once you reached home, Chan opened the door, letting Mochi step into his new home. The cat who was acting like he was in jail now took careful steps as he came out of the carrier, his big eyes curiously looking around his surroundings.

You and Chan sat cross-legged on the floor, watching as the little guy took his first tentative steps. He sniffed the rug, pawed at a plush toy, then turned and meowed—a soft, questioning little chirp before he walked towards Chan.

Your eyes widened as he pawed Chan’s knee, then—without hesitation—hopped onto his lap with all the confidence of a kitten who’d already chosen his favorite human.

Chan froze, mouth parted in disbelief. “Did I just get picked?”

You giggled, leaning your cheek against your knee as you watched the scene unfold. “He knows who the real pushover is.”

Chan scoffed, but his hand instinctively reached down, gently scratching behind Mochi’s tiny ears. The kitten let out a happy purr, quiet at first, then growing louder as he curled up into a little ball right in the center of Chan’s lap.

Your heart clenched at the sight, so much love unfolding that it felt overwhelming in the best way imaginable. You crawled closer and rested your head on his shoulder, eyes fluttering shut as Chan wrapped an arm around you, careful not to disturb the sleeping kitten on his lap.

Mochi twitched once in his sleep, then purred continuing with his slumber, dreaming whatever cats dreamt of.

Chan turned slightly, pressing a kiss to your temple. “You know, I never imagined this would be us. I didn’t think I’d be the guy sitting on the floor with a kitten asleep on my lap and my girl leaning on me like this.”

“And yet,” you murmured, eyes still closed, “here you are. Daddy.”

He groaned. “Please don’t call me that while the cat’s present.”

You laughed, and the sound made something flutter in his chest. Like everything was finally falling into place.

Eventually, you all ended up on the couch, the three of you tangled together, Chan stretched out with you curled next to him and Mochi sleeping contently on his chest, purring like a little engine.

“Hey,” he murmured.

“Mmh?”

“I’d let you bribe me a thousand times over if it means more nights like this.”

You smiled, pressing a long, soft kiss onto his cheek.

"Good." You giggled. "I have a list."

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Enjoyed this one shot? Consider checking my masterlist for more. Requests? Check 𝚁𝚎𝚚𝚞𝚎𝚜𝚝𝚜 (& 𝚁𝚞𝚕𝚎𝚜)

Taglist: @velvetmoonlght @de-uns-tempos-pra-ca @greyyeti

If you want to be added to the taglist, drop a comment <3 (If I missed someone please lmk)

Thank you for reading!

xx,

Ivyy

[dreamivyisla]

ᯓ 𝐒𝐓𝐑𝐄𝐄𝐓𝐖𝐀𝐋𝐊𝐄𝐑 ᯓ

𝐅𝐄𝐀𝐓𝐔𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆 ➤ Sammie Moore, Bo Chow, Elijah “Smoke” Moore, and Elias “Stack” Moore.

𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒 ➤ a seductive streetwalker crosses paths with four troubled men from Sinners—each seeking release in their own way.

𝐀𝐔𝐓𝐇𝐎𝐑𝐒 𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄 ➤ before anyone says anything, i didn’t know how to include Remmick in this at all. if anyone has any suggestions, i’ll update this and put him in it. i really don’t just do smut, i do angst and fluff as well— these are just things i had in my notes. also, i love Annie and Mary, im sooo sorry to their fans! enjoy!

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 ➤ sexual content, profanity, 1930s au, misogyny, implied social inequality, prostitution, hair pulling, praise, mirror voyeurism, light breath play, threesome (MFM), dirty talk, creampie, facial, spit roasting, slight sibling voyeurism (if you squint), unprotected sex (wrap it), mild infidelity (Smoke is married to Annie), reader is black (but anyone can imagine themselves), semi public settings (woods, shop, and car). 𝐌𝐃𝐍𝐈! 𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐎𝐑𝐒 𝐃𝐎 𝐍𝐎𝐓 𝐈𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐀𝐂𝐓! 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐇𝐀𝐕𝐄 𝐁𝐄𝐄𝐍 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐄𝐃!

-ˋˏ��┈┈┈┈ ┈┈┈┈ ┈┈┈┈ ┈┈┈┈

ᯓ 𝐒𝐀𝐌𝐌𝐈𝐄 𝐌𝐎𝐎𝐑𝐄 ᯓ

the cicadas were loud that night.

sammie slammed the front door so hard the frame shook, jaw clenched and chest puffed out like he meant to carry all his hurt in it. his daddy had gone off on him again, red in the face and hot with shame over something sammie never got a say in. didn’t matter what the boy tried to do—wasn’t never enough. so he stormed out ‘round sundown, boots crunching dry leaves, hands balled in fists like he might hit something just to feel his own power.

he didn’t go far. didn’t need to. the trees just outside town were close enough, thick and dark enough to hide in. he liked the quiet, liked being alone with his thoughts. but he wasn’t alone tonight.

you were leaning up against a tree with one leg bent, cigarette glowing between two fingers, dark skin catching what little moonlight broke through the branches. you looked him over once, then again slower, like you could taste the anger still burning off him.

“ain’t safe out here, sugar,” you said, voice low and knowing.

he didn’t say nothing at first. just stared. you were pretty in a way he didn’t know how to name. face soft, mouth even softer. but it was your eyes that got him—eyes that saw through folks, picked apart whatever armor they thought they had on.

“ain’t safe nowhere,” he muttered, finally stepping close.

your brows lifted, and your lips curved. “you lost or just mad?”

“don’t matter,” he said. “just needed outta there.”

you took a drag, then reached up to pull the cigarette from your lips and hold it out to him. he hesitated, then took it, fingers brushing yours. you leaned in real slow, smelling like something sweet and strong—cheap perfume, maybe, or flowers from town. you were dressed for work, short skirt and a blouse with too many buttons undone, but you held yourself like a woman who didn’t owe no man anything.

“you wanna work some of that heat off?” you asked, voice thick and sultry. “i can help you forget.”

his breath caught. he glanced back toward home, then down at your hand, now trailing slow along his belt. he didn’t ask what you meant. didn’t ask your name. just nodded, voice low and hoarse: “yeah… yeah, i want that.”

you took his hand and led him deeper into the trees, heels barely making a sound. the woods swallowed you both up.

the clearing was narrow and quiet. moss underfoot, pine needles falling slow from above. you pushed him back against a tree, rough bark scratching at his shirt. you moved like water, smooth and certain, all hips and hands and heat. he let you kiss him first—eager, unpracticed—but full of hunger. his mouth chased yours, breath ragged, teeth grazing your lip like he didn’t mean to but liked how you gasped.

his hands found your thighs, then slid up your skirt. you didn’t stop him. just whispered, “slow down, baby. let me take care of you.”

he didn’t expect you to drop down like that, knees sinking into dirt. didn’t expect your mouth warm around him, tongue patient and filthy. he bit down a groan, one hand braced on the tree, the other fisting your hair like it was all that grounded him. when you looked up, eyes glossy and full of heat, he damn near lost himself.

“shit—keep goin’. don’t stop,” he begged, voice cracking like something inside him just snapped loose.

you didn’t. you worked him slow, teasing your tongue along the underside, letting your spit coat him all the way down. he was thick and twitching in your mouth, hips jerking forward despite himself.

when he pulled you up, it was clumsy and greedy, mouth crashing against yours as he walked you backward. he laid you down on your back over the moss, one knee between your legs, your skirt bunched up around your waist.

“tell me you want this,” he murmured against your throat, voice almost broken.

you cupped his jaw, dragging your nails against the stubble. “i do, baby. want it all.”

he slid inside you slow, shuddering at the way your walls pulled him in. it wasn’t rushed—it was messy and breathless, him holding onto you like a lifeline, like you were the first real thing he’d touched in weeks. the moon hung overhead, pale and distant, but down here on the forest floor, it was hot skin and gasps and sweat.

“feels good?” you whispered, biting his earlobe.

“yeah… yeah, you feel too damn good.”

his rhythm got rougher, hands gripping your hips, eyes half-lidded and wild. he muttered your name between curses, begged you to keep sayin’ his. you scratched down his back when he hit that spot just right, and he moaned—loud, unashamed. the boy was falling apart inside you.

you wrapped your legs around him tighter, rode each thrust like it meant something. and to him, it did.

he came with his face buried in your neck, hips stuttering, voice hoarse and needy. he didn’t pull away right after. just lay there, chest heaving, arms wrapped around you like the woods might take you away if he let go.

-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈ ┈┈┈┈ ┈┈┈┈ ┈┈┈┈

ᯓ 𝐁𝐎 𝐂𝐇𝐎𝐖 ᯓ

the streets were quiet by the time you wandered up to the front of chow’s store. lantern light flickered dim behind the window, casting long shadows over the cans and jars still lined up neat on their shelves. you leaned against the wall beside the door, arms crossed, watching through the glass like you’d come to shop after hours.

but you weren’t there for dry goods.

bo chow was inside still, methodical as ever. sleeves rolled, eyes sharp. he didn’t rush—not even to close up. he moved with purpose, like a man who’d never known sloppiness, who found control in every motion. the silence around him was almost holy. you waited.

when he finally came to the front, key in hand, he noticed you right away. his gaze flicked up, settled on you for longer than polite. he didn’t open the door just yet.

you knocked once, slow. “evenin’, mister chow.”

he looked at you through the glass for a long moment. “store’s closed.”

“i figured,” you said. “but i ain’t here for bread.”

his eyes narrowed, but his mouth stayed soft. curious. you knew what you looked like—dark skin glowing against the lamp, lips painted, skirt short, the coat you wore not doing much to hide what you were. you watched the way his gaze dipped, then came back up to meet yours.

“you followin’ me?” he asked, finally unlocking the door.

you smiled and stepped inside as he held it open. “nah. i just know a man who needs unwindin’ when i see one.”

the shop smelled like dust and spice and something earthy. bo locked the door behind you. his footsteps were quiet against the floorboards, but you heard him coming close, stopping just inches away. the air was thick between you.

“you offer that to every man workin’ late?” he asked.

“just the ones who look like they never let themselves want somethin’.”

he didn’t answer right away. didn’t even touch you. he just looked—at your throat, your chest, your mouth. he smelled like tobacco and clean linen, the scent of someone who took care with how he carried himself. when he finally spoke, his voice was low.

“how much?”

you tilted your head. “depends on how long you want.”

he reached for his pocket, pulled out a few folded bills. “then don’t rush.”

you took the money and slid it into your coat, not breaking eye contact. “what do you want me to do, mister chow?”

he stepped forward, close enough for you to feel the heat off him. his hand rose, brushing the collar of your blouse. “take that off,” he said, quiet. “slow.”

the coat dropped first. then your fingers worked open the buttons of your blouse, one at a time, the soft fabric peeling back to show your bare chest. he watched like a man starved, eyes hooded but steady. he didn’t interrupt. didn’t speak. just let you give it to him slow, like he was studying something sacred.

“that all right?” you asked.

“it’s good,” he said, stepping behind you now. “but you’re overdressed.”

his hands came to your skirt, tugging it up inch by inch. you felt the rough callus of his thumb over the curve of your thigh, the warm breath against your neck. he didn’t kiss. not yet. just looked at you through the mirror behind the counter, hands sliding up your waist to cup your breasts, thumbs brushing your nipples until you gasped.

he liked that sound. you could feel it in the way his hands lingered, in the way his belt clicked open behind you.

“don’t turn around,” he murmured. “keep lookin’.”

you did. your reflection stared back, dark and glowing under the store’s lone overhead light. you looked fucked before he even touched you proper. he knew what he was doing—slow, careful, but deliberate. he lifted your leg up onto the edge of the counter, one knee bent, and slid two fingers between your thighs.

“you’re wet already,” he murmured, his voice flatter than it should’ve been.

“wanted you soon as you opened that door,” you breathed.

he pressed into you slow, fingers curling just right. his other hand wrapped around your throat—not choking, just grounding. your mouth parted, a moan caught low in your chest. he leaned in, finally letting his lips brush your jaw.

“you make a lotta noise?” he asked.

“when i’m fucked right.”

he grunted, then pulled out his fingers and pushed his cock between your thighs. he was thick and warm, sliding in slow while you braced yourself against the wood. the stretch made your eyes flutter, but you didn’t look away. he held you open with one hand on your hip, the other gripping the back of your neck.

“watch yourself take it,” he growled. “watch how good you look.”

you did.

he fucked you like he had something to prove—slow, deep thrusts that made the jars on the counter rattle. he didn’t talk much, just groaned low when your walls squeezed him, when you pushed back against his hips and begged for more.

“you ever done this here before?” you panted.

“no,” he said. “only you.”

you smiled, even through the moans. “guess i’m lucky.”

he didn’t answer. just fucked you harder, both of you framed in that dusty mirror, skin slick, eyes burning. he wrapped your braid around his fist and tugged just enough to arch your back.

you came first, gasping out his name, your whole body shuddering. he kept going through it, let you ride the wave before he stiffened behind you and came with a grunt, hips jerking against your ass.

when it was over, he stayed close. his breath was warm at your nape.

“you need water?” he asked, voice quieter now.

you nodded. “and a seat.”

he helped you fix your blouse, even though it stayed wrinkled, and led you to the back where it was darker. he didn’t say much more. just gave you the drink and let the silence fill back in.

-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈ ┈┈┈┈ ┈┈┈┈ ┈┈┈┈

ᯓ 𝐒𝐌𝐎𝐊𝐄𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐂𝐊 ᯓ

the gravel kicked up soft under the tires as smoke turned off the main road. they weren’t far outta town—just where the streetlights started thinnin’ and trees lined both sides like shadows that kept quiet. it wasn’t late, but it felt it. the kind of quiet that came after a long night, the kind where everything settled except the things boilin’ up inside a man.

stack had his boots propped up on the dash, jaw tight, cigarette half-burned between his fingers. he hadn’t said a word since they got in the car.

smoke kept his eyes on the road, hands tight on the wheel.

“mary said she ain’t waitin’ around,” stack muttered, finally. “she mean it this time.”

smoke didn’t answer right away. he never rushed his words. just drove a bit slower, head dipped like he was thinkin’.

“you love her?” he asked.

stack scoffed, took a drag. “i’m mad at her, not in love. she don’t listen. always talkin’, never hearin’ me.”

“so you pick fights to get her to feel you.”

stack turned to look at him. “you pickin’ sides now?”

smoke sighed through his nose. “i’m sayin’ you hurtin’. that’s all. figured drivin’ out here might cool your blood down.”

“ain’t nothin’ gonna cool me off tonight,” stack said, eyes low.

they pulled over by the edge of the trees, engine cutting out. smoke leaned back in the seat, rolled his shoulders, the air around them thick and humid. cicadas buzzed, same as they always did this time of year.

then came footsteps.

soft ones, but with a purpose. a shadow moved out from behind a bush up the road—a woman, hips swayin’, dark as night and wearin’ red like she meant for someone to stop. you had on heels, a skirt too short for decency, and lips painted like a sin.

stack leaned forward, grinning. “well, look at that.”

smoke frowned. “don’t.”

“don’t what?” stack asked, already half out the window. “evenin’, darlin’. you lost?”

you laughed, soft and low. “nah, baby. i found exactly where i need to be.”

“mm. that right?” stack stepped out the car, walked up with his usual attitude. “you workin’?”

“i ain’t standin’ here for fun.”

smoke stayed in the driver’s seat, watching you through the windshield. his jaw ticked. he was married. he didn’t play around. not like stack.

but you looked good. real good. skin like honey at dusk. lashes thick, hips round. you leaned over the passenger side, resting your arms on the open window.

“i can make you both feel better,” you said, eyes on stack first, then smoke. “you mad at your girl. and he—” you nodded at smoke, “—he look like he ain’t been touched in months.”

stack laughed. “she read you like a book, boy.”

smoke shook his head, but didn’t argue. “we don’t need all that tonight.”

“i do,” stack muttered.

you grinned, leaning in more. “i can start with him, if you wanna watch.”

stack looked to smoke, eyes lit with something cocky. “that alright, big brother?”

“man, you crazy.”

“you stay in the car. just lemme get a taste.”

smoke opened the door slow. stood up. the moon lit up half his face, serious as stone.

“she a stranger.”

“so? so was mary.”

smoke looked at you hard. you didn’t flinch. instead, you reached for stack’s belt, tugged it loose with a teasing smile.

“you want this?” you asked.

stack nodded, breath hot. “hell yeah.”

“then get in the back.”

you straddled stack in the backseat, legs spread over his lap, your hands braced on the window behind him. the car creaked under you, but you didn’t care. his cock was thick and twitching, and you took him slow, your slick heat swallowin’ him inch by inch. he grunted, head falling back, fingers bruising your hips.

“goddamn, girl… you tight.”

“you like that?” you breathed, rollin’ your hips deep.

“fuck yeah. bounce f’me.”

you moved with practiced rhythm—slow grind, fast drop, every motion makin’ stack grunt and curse. his head knocked the glass behind him, but he didn’t slow. his hands pulled your blouse down, mouth suckin’ hard on your nipple, groanin’ like a man finally let off his leash.

smoke stayed up front. for a while.

but he kept lookin’ back through the mirror. kept hearin’ the wet sound of your pussy takin’ stack’s cock, the slaps of skin, the little moans you made when stack whispered filth in your ear.

you caught his eye once—right in the mirror—and said, soft as sugar:

“you ain’t gotta just watch, baby. i got a mouth too.”

his hand clenched on the steering wheel.

“annie waitin’ for me.”

“so go home hard,” stack called, smirkin’. “or stay and get it wet like me.”

smoke opened the door.

he didn’t say nothin’. just walked around, opened the other back door, and slid in behind you. his hands went to your waist, grip firm.

“you sure?” he asked low against your neck.

“yeah,” you whispered. “i want both of you.”

stack didn’t stop fuckin’ up into you, even as you leaned forward to take smoke’s cock into your mouth. you opened wide, tongue out, eyes locked with his.

he hissed. “fuck, you nasty.”

you moaned around him, the sound buzzin’ down his spine. he held your head with care at first, then firmer, guiding your rhythm as you sucked him deep. his cock hit the back of your throat, and you took it, droolin’ all over his length.

stack was close. he fucked up into you faster, sweat runnin’ down his temple.

“she squeezin’ me so good. damn.”

you moaned again, drool and spit runnin’ down your chin as you choked on smoke’s dick. both of them were pantin’—stack inside you, smoke in your mouth, both brothers losin’ their minds.

you were used, worshipped, fucked full on both ends.

stack came first, holdin’ your hips tight as he spilled inside you with a loud groan. he bit your shoulder, ridin’ it out. smoke pulled your head back, stroked his cock over your tongue until he came too, thick and hot, lips parted as he cursed your name.

they both sat back, breathless.

you wiped your mouth, smiling slow. “anybody feel better now?”

stack laughed, chest still heaving. “shit… i feel brand new.”

smoke stared at you for a beat, then nodded once. “don’t tell nobody.”

“your secret’s safe,” you whispered, pulling your blouse up slow.

-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈ ┈┈┈┈ ┈┈┈┈ ┈┈┈┈

𝐀𝐋𝐋 𝐑𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓𝐒 𝐑𝐄𝐒𝐄𝐑𝐕𝐄𝐃 𝐓𝐎 𝐃𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐌𝐈𝐕𝐘𝐈𝐒𝐋𝐀.

[ladylaviniya]

This fic is gonna put me in a fucking wheelchair cause how hard can a girl flick the bean without going PARALYSED LIKE BESTIEEEEEE WHAT DID YOU JUST DO TO ME 😭😭😭

i am NOT okay like pls i was just here to read a lil fic and now i’m on the floor?? sobbing??? KICKING MY FEET??? WAVING MY HANDS AROUND LIKE I JUST GOT PROPOSED TO?????? the way you wrote old man logan being all gruff but secretly SOFT for her??? and he’s all grumbly but lets her take care of him??? HELP ME. and then BOOM out of nowhere ANOTHER LOGAN??? IN THE UGLY LITTLE YELLOW SUIT???? LMAO not the canon accuracy but make it HOTTTT 🔥🔥🔥 asdfjklsjdf and the way they were jealous but also 👀👀 teaming up lowkey to ruin her??? the TENSION, the DRAMA, the FILTH 😩🤌🏻✨

LIKEEEE THE RULES JAMES SET???? sir what do you MEAN "no kissing" WHY IS THAT SO HOT??? I’M GOING FERAL. and then logan just destroying her like he KNEW HER BODY??? like he’s been there before??? I’M SCREAMINGGGG. AND JAMES WATCHINGGGGGG like 👁️👄👁️ SIR PLS i’m sweating. also NOT LOGAN whispering “missed this” under his breath... STOP IT RIGHT NOW??? the angst?? the pining??? i can’t breathe 😭

THEN THE ENDING??? LIKE OH SO WE’RE JUST GONNA RIP MY HEART OUT TOO??? THE REVEAL THAT HE KNEW HER IN HIS WORLD AND LOST HER??? AND JAMES JUST WANTING TO MAKE SURE SHE’D BE OKAY?????? the love, the heartbreak, the mutual respect??? pls i am wiping my tears with my shirt rn this is so unserious 😭

anywayyyy brain fully rotted, soul snatched, life ruined 10/10 would do it again. pls never stop writing stuff like this bestie i am BEGGING. asdkjfaslkdf 💖💖

These Logan's are like two cups of whiskey spiked coffee to caffeinate my week. 🫡 You are doing the damn multiverse a favour by writing this Rosenclaws ❤️🌹

The fact they didn't kill each other lowkey feels so uncanon (jk jk) but gawd I loved that nasty spicey hate fucking raw ass angsty mix combination.

Birds of a Feather || Old Man!Logan x Reader x Worst!Logan

summary: Logan loves you even if he can't say it but he knows that given his old age he's been lacking in the intimacy area. When a strange portal opens up and another Logan tumbles out of it, things get a little messy. (Or Worst Logan cucks Old Man Logan)

warnings: SMUT, MINORS DNI, fem!reader, cucking, fingering, rough sex, cum eating, masturbation, thigh riding, oral (female receiving), overstimulation, mating press, doggy style, dirty talk, kinda mean!worst logan (he taunts old man logan a lot), slight pain kink (Logan), ass play, nipple play, breast play. Also neither logan ever interact with each other beyond talking.

a/n: Soooo Merry Christmas!! Here is my gift to all of you lmao. So to set a few things up, At the start both men are called Logan but a couple paragraphs in is when I separate them into James and Logan. I really hope it doesn't get confusing but I did my best lol. I really hope this lives up to peoples expectations im kinda nervous lol. Anyways happy holidays and I hope u love it!!!

Logan was an old man now. The adamantium was seeping itself into his blood. Killing him. It had been for years but with his healing factor starting to fail him the poisoning was truly taking its effect. He was weaker, tired. His heart was touched by a poison and it was turning him cold. There's only one good thing in his life now and it's you.

You're too kind. He tried to keep you away from his fucked up life but you were relentless. You were an experienced nurse who could take care of Charles. Free of charge. He fought you at every step of the way. Not wanting your pity. But he caved. 

Eventually you started taking care of him too. You were just too pretty, too charming. He couldn't stay away. This old man doesn't believe he gets to be happy and you try to change his mind every day. He did his best to take care of you too but the one area he knows he's lacking is the sex life. He tries, he really does. But he's old and while you're the sexiest thing on the planet, sometimes he just can't keep it up or he just can't finish.

It's embarrassing. Humiliating. You wave him off, telling him that it's not a big deal. That he still pleases you in a million other ways. Riding his face, his big fingers, you don't need his cock to know that he can take care of you. But it still bothers him. Still you lived your lives and things were fine. Until something weird happened. Really fucking weird. A large yellow portal opened up in your house. Logan bared his claws and pushed you behind him, ready to fight whatever the hell stepped out of it. 

To both of your shock another...him? 

Beaten up and bruised but its him. He looked younger but his hair was in these little tuffs and he was wearing a god awful yellow suit. He was kind of cute. Is this what your Logan would have looked like when he was younger? You snap out of your thinking, this is another man. It's Logan but not Logan. 

"Fucking shit!" The other Logan yells as the yellow door closes behind him. 

"Wade you dumb motherfucker I'm going to rip your head off!" He roars. He turns around, wiping the blood from his face. His eyes go wide when he sees you. He calls your name and steps towards you. Your Logan growls, putting up his claws. 

"Back the fuck up bub." The other Logan looks between the two of you and just narrows his eyes. Both their shiny claws come out to threaten the other. 

"Logan?" You call softly. Both of the men turn to you. 

"Can we just talk?" They look at each other and slowly retract their claws. 

After getting both of them to calm down the other guy explains exactly how he got there. He's from another universe, another time. He was pulled from his world into this one by an asshole with a stupid face and red suit. His stupid friend was messing with a little time machine thingy he stole and now he's here. That was his summary of things. You...tried to grasp it. You live in a world with mutants so time travel and universe hopping wasn't exactly strange. But to see another Logan. He also keeps glancing at you. 

Every time he does James, you've decided to start calling your Logan by his childhood name to make it easier, James tightens his grip on your hand. The way this other Logan looks at you, they're such sad eyes. He must have had a you in the other universe. 

"You can stay with us for a while, until you can get back to your time." You offer sweetly. 

"Thank you sweetheart." Logan's hands twitch, like he wants to reach out for you but he doesn't. James reluctantly gets up, pointing to the spare room and keeping his eyes on Logan's every move. 

"Don't drink my liquor." James mumbles as he heads to your bedroom. 

"He's the anchor being, really?" Logan whispers but you catch him. 

"What was that?" Logan freezes and turns to you.

"Nothing sweets," He flashes a smile you know he's lying. This Logan has the same tell as your own. 

"Who am I? In your world?" You ask curiously. Logan's face drops and he seems to close up. 

"No one, just a friend." He stalks to his room and closes the door behind you. Sighing you wonder what you've got yourself into now.

Living with two wolverines was not easy. Especially for you. They didn't get along and you had to play peacemaker. It was exhausting. Logan was nice enough to you but closed off and James was pissed off and protective. You were worried they'd slit each other's throats.

Plus...it was hard living with two Logan's when they were both ridiculously attractive. You never wanted anyone else but James. But this was just confusing. He was James but he wasn't but he looked like him and fuck he was ripped. James had a body to envy but so did Logan.

You were ashamed to admit you thought about Logan, just a little bit. You never let it go far but your dreams ran wild. They were hot and dirty and you woke up feeling soaked and guilty. You didn't say a word to James or Logan. What good could come of that? But they're perceptive men and you could feel Logan's eyes on you in the mornings. James' too. You couldn't escape them forever.

You should have known something was up the moment you walked through the front door and saw both boys sitting together in the living room. Normally they'd stay far away from each other.

"Hi..." You say suspiciously as you set down the grocery bags. 

"Come here." James pats his lap and you walk over. He pulls you down onto his knee and smashes his lips onto yours. You can't help but moan as his hand squeezes your ass. 

"James!" You moan as you try to push him away. You look over at Logan who was watching with hungry eyes. Licking his lips as his eyes trail up and down your body. 

"We had a talk sweetheart," Logan's voice is deep and primal as he stands up and grabs your chin.

"We both know what you want. The old man over here can't fuck you the way you want to be fucked." James tightens his grip on your waist as Logan flirts up a storm. 

"I...James I-" You look at James with a guilty look on your face. 

"It's okay honey, I want you to feel good." He says while glaring at Logan. He isn't going to just hand you over, but he knows you crave to be destroyed, ruined and he can't do that for you anymore. So reluctantly, he's going to let his other self fuck you. 

"Rule one. You don't get to come inside." James situates you on his thigh. Slowly rocking you on it until you're squirming. 

"Rule two. She says stop, you stop." Logan eyes your cleavage with a hungry look. 

"And rule three. You don't get to kiss her." He says possessively. 

Logan rolls his eyes but agrees to the terms. The three of you head to the bedroom. James sits on a chair facing the bed. He groans as his bones creak. You shoot him a worried look but he waves you off. Unbuttoning his pants and letting his cock free. Logan pulls your focus as he leaves hickeys up your shoulder, sucking on a particular spot on your neck. 

"Shit.." You groan. How did he know that was your sweet spot? You don't have much time to think as you hear a claw come out. Logan waits and you nod your head. He cuts through your clothes and they fall to the floor in shreds.

"Fuck." Logan groans as his hands trail up your body. Your bare skin drives him nuts. He closes his eyes as he takes his time exploring. Committing your body to memory, each curve and dip. 

"Missed this." He whispers softly for only him to hear. 

"Lay down sweetheart." Logan hums and you obey. Crawling onto the bed as Logan sheds his yellow suit. Your eyes trail down his built chest to his already hard cock. 

"Damn." 

"As big as your boyfriends over there?" Logan says with a smirk. 

He kneels onto the bed and grabs your legs, putting them around his waist as he bends down and goes back to biting your neck. Your nails dig into his biceps as you buck your hips. His cock presses against your thigh as he moves down your body. Stopping at your breasts, squeezing and teasing one of your nipples while sucking on the other. You whine when he bites down. Licking over the spot he bit. 

"Sorry, I couldn't help myself." He smiles through his apology. He moves down your stomach and rests himself in between your legs. 

"Let's see how sweet you taste." You gasp as he buries himself into your cunt. His hands locking you in place, not letting you move against his pleasurable assault. 

"Logan!" You moan as you claw at his hair. Raking your hands through it until you find a grip. Pulling on it only eggs him on. His tongue moves against your clit over and over again. He refuses to let up as your moans get louder. You try to move but Logan growls like an animal. 

"Don't fucking move." He licks his lips as he raises his head. He looks over to James and smirks. 

"I see why you're so protective, wouldn't want to share a girl as sweet as this either." You look over to James who was slowly stroking his cock. It was painful watching another man feast on his cunt but he can see how much you're loving it. 

"Play with your tits." James commands as Logan goes back down. 

You listen and slowly play with your nipples. Squeezing your breasts and arching your back when Logan sticks his tongue into your cunt. Fuck he knows what he's doing.

"I can't- fuck! I-" Your back arches high as Logan sucks on your clit. 

He doesn't let up. One of his hands lets go of your thigh and his thumb presses on your clit. His tongue is now moving to your cunt. You roll your hips as Logan fucks you with his tongue and rubs your clit with his thumb.

It's a deadly combination that leaves you helpless. You come around his tongue hard. He groans as you leak around him. Licking up the sweet taste until he's satisfied. As you start to relax you feel Logan's tongue back on your clit. 

"Fuck!" You gasp in surprise as he places himself back on your cunt. 

"Too much! Can't take it!" You claw at the sheets but Logan pays no mind. 

"You can take it, always have you crying on my face." James says huskily. 

He wants a taste, mouth watering at the sinful sounds of your went pussy. Tears threaten to fall as Logan shoves two fingers into your cunt. He fucks you like he knows you, curling his fingers just how you like it. The sounds of your cunt get louder as he roughly fingers you. 

"One more come on, fuck give me one more." Logan props himself on his elbow as he pistons his fingers into you. 

"No No I can't." You cry. You don't want him to stop but it's so overwhelming. It's too much pleasure. 

"Yes you can." Logan cups your cheek and wipes away a stray tear. 

"I got you," Your eyes roll to the back of your head as you come again. Your cunt clenching around his fingers as soak his hand. Both of them watch in awe as you make a mess. 

"Knew you could take it." Logan takes his fingers out and sucks them clean. He eyes James who hasn't taken his eyes off your cunt. 

"Want a taste old man?" You look over with pleading eyes at your boyfriend. You need him too. He winces as he stands up but leans down and gets between your legs. 

"Shh baby, just want a taste." James squeezes your thighs softly.

Your cunt twitches as he leans down and takes a fat lick up. You're on edge from your previous orgasms and it's borderline painful. Both men look up at you when you gasp. 

"I'm okay, just please be gentle." Your lips form into a small pout and James melts. 

"Course baby," He takes a few soft licks and you sigh as Logan strokes his cock. 

He takes your hand and wraps it around his cock. Fuck he's big and hard and leaking over your hand. You can't help but notice it's different from your Logan too. But you keep that thought to yourself. James grunts as he gets back to his feet. His beard slick with your juices. He slips two fingers into your cunt and pumps them slowly. 

"Did so good, baby." He praises and you smile. You bite your lip and close your eyes as you take in James' thick fingers. They work you like magic, he knows you inside and out. 

"Are you gonna take my cock now sweetheart?" Logan purrs in your ear. 

"Tell me, what dirty fantasies do you have up there." Your breath catches in your throat as he cups your breasts in his hands. 

"Any positions you want to try? Face down ass up is always a favorite of mine, or I can put your legs on my shoulders and press you into the mattress." You moan just picturing each scenario in your head. 

"I can hold you against the wall. Bounce you on my cock so you're forced to take every inch of me.

"Even better, we can do all three." Logan lets go of you and nods his head, telling James to go sit down. James takes his fingers out and brings them to your lips, pushing them into your mouth as you suck on them like he trained you to do. 

"You okay?" James asks and you nod. 

"M'alright baby, are you okay?" You reach up and grab his hand, squeezing it gently. Is he still okay with this? If he's too uncomfortable you'd stop but he just smiles. He leans down and kisses your head, then moves to sit back down. 

"You've been talking a lot of shit bub." James says gruffly as Logan nudges his cock at your cunt. You're on your back with Logan pressing your hands into the mattress. 

"Don't worry old man, I'll take care of her." He slides in and you moan. He's going too slow, relishing with every inch.

"Faster!" You beg but Logan doesn't listen. Instead he pushes all the way in, balls deep and throbbing just being in your sweet cunt. 

"Oh fuck yeah." Logan purrs as he draws his hips back, slamming them back into you.

His pace is slow and hard. He watches your breasts bounce with each thrust, enjoying the way they move because of him. He's still got you pinned down and you want to move, you want to hold onto him as he fucks you but he won't let you. Logan's got stamina and it's clear as he doesn't let up. 

"Logan I-" He growls and pulls out much to your dismay. Manhandling you to your knees, grabbing your neck and forcing you to look right at James. You couldn't meet his eyes as Logan sinks back into you. 

"Ah ah, don't you want him to see how good you feel?" Logan says in a mocking tone. Smirking as he sees the fire lit in James' eyes.

"It's okay baby." James says as your head falls down to the comforter. Logan's just so big. He's overpowering all of your senses. He just keeps going and going. Logan tilts his head back as he digs his fingers into your hips. 

"Such a tight fucking cunt." He presses your face into the bed and grabs a handful of your ass. Pounding his hips into your pussy and loving every little noise he's fucking out of you. 

"She likes it when you choke her." James says, his breath ragged as he watches you get fucked. Logan chuckles and puts his hand around your neck.

"Of course she does, such a dirty little whore you got on your hands." His mouth is filthy, the degradation pouring from his mouth with ease.

James mixes his praise with his meanness but Logan is pure filth. The pressure on your throat sends you into fucking orbit. A fat cock pounding your sweet spot and rough hand on your throat is lethally delicious. You could die happy. 

"That's it, just let me use you sweetheart. Doesn't that sound fun? Being my little toy? Our little toy?" You look at James who's perked up at the mention of him, your cunt clenching around Logan's cock. 

"Oh that got you interested huh?" Logan teases. 

"You can be our plaything sweetheart, just nothing but a couple holes for us to use. Big man over here can stick his cock down your throat while I get the back." Logan rubs his hand along your ass, his thumb trailing down until its teasing your asshole. 

"He ever been in here before?" 

"O-Once." You mewl as he presses his thumb, not breeching you yet but knowing he could if he wanted to. 

"Is it as tight as her cunt?" He asks James. 

"Even tighter." James spreads his legs, he was getting hot. He sheds his jacket and unbuttons his white button up. Being this old and still ripped was so fucking unfair. His pants were already at his ankles and his cock was stirring just remembering that day.

How you cried and whined as he prepped you with his fingers. How fucking tight you felt when he slid his cock in. You were a mess, babbling and whining and begging to be ruined. James opens his eyes and sees you staring at him. Hunger in your eyes as you take in your handsome boyfriend. You may be getting fucked by another man but you only ever want James. 

“Maybe next time." Logan moves his hands back up your body.

He sits back on his knees. His hands come to your breasts and pull you up so your back is against his chest. His cock somehow sits deeper as he bounces his hips up and down, spearing his cock deeper and deeper. One of his arms wraps around your waist while the other plays with your breasts. 

"Logan!" You chant over and over. He's grunting in your ear whispering dirty things that only you can hear. 

"I know you're loving this sweetheart, you may love the old man but you love my cock more." You whine, words failing you as you try and talk. You start to go limp in Logan's grasp so he tightens his hold. 

"Come for me sweetheart, go on." He purrs as he lets go of your breasts to pleasure your clit. Rubbing small circles until you're squirming out of his grip, or trying to.

"It's okay, I got you." Logan whispers as you tilt your head back into his shoulder. 

Eyes rolling back as you fully submit to the man. Your legs shake uncontrollably as you come harder than you have in a while. He holds you up as you melt, your vision blurring as you're sent to cloud nine. You were clawing at his arms, digging your nails into him until he bleed which only made things better for Logan as he humps you like a crazed animal. Grunting and groaning. 

"Fuck!" He lets go of you to pull out, whimpering at the loss of your wet cunt.

He's rough with his hand as he jerks himself until he comes all over your back. Hot cum spurting from his cock and drenching itself on your skin. Your eyelids are heavy as you collapse into the bed, your body aches with a delicious sort of pain. With all the energy you could muster you glance over at James. He had cum staining his chest, breath ragged. He was worn out just from watching. 

"I love you." You say softly, reaching out for him. Your hand doesn't make it very far so he meets you halfway. His pants pulled up and cum still on his stomach. 

"Feel good baby?" He pets your head and you nod sleepily. Logan has gone off to take care of himself. Redressing into that god awful suit and coming back with a towel. 

"Can I?" He looks over at James who nods. Gently he wipes his cum off your back, cooing when he accidently stimulates your clit again. 

"Sorry sweetheart, just gotta get you nice and clean." Logan looks at James before leaning down and kissing your forehead.

James doesn't argue. Once you're cleaned up James tucks you into bed. He sits on the edge as you curl into his lap. Logan comes back with water and a towel for James. You're sound asleep by the time he's back. Logan smiles at you with a fondness that James can only recognize as love. 

"You know her." Logan looks up and shrugs. "Heard her say she was just a friend. You were lying." James continues. He knows Logan was lying because they're one in the same. They may not like each other but they knew each other better than anyone ever could, even you. 

"Look. You may think your life is fucking miserable but you had your family, you have her. You don't know how lucky you have it." Logan growls. 

"Lucky? You think becoming a shell of who we were is lucky?" James feels the anger surging inside of him. 

"At least she's alive in your world." Logan hisses. The truth comes out. Why Logan worked you like he already knew you, why he looked at you with such sad eyes. Why he listened to you. James caught all of it from the start but you never did. He looks down at you and you barely stir. 

"What happens to us, in the future?" James asks while staring at you. Timelines don't need two of the same man and he knows that. He just needs to hear it. "I don't think I'm supposed to say." Logan mumbles. 

"Who fucking cares?" Sighing Logan looks over at you before revealing the truth. 

"You die and your world starts to fall apart, that's why I got pulled into it."

James knew that death was coming. He could feel it. He had been slowly dying his whole life. That's not what bothers him. There's only one thing holding him back in being ready for the end. You. He can't leave you alone but it sounds like he does anyway. Failing you once again. 

"What about her? Is she okay?" 

"Yes.” James nods, he doesn’t ask what happens. He doesn’t want to know. As long as you’re okay then that’s all that matters. 

“Take care of her. Please.” James asks, for once letting Logan see his gruff façade break. 

It feels like an odd request. Both of them know it, but he wants you to be safe and protected and no one will love you more than him. In any timeline, any universe, he loves you. 

“I will.” Logan promises.

The two of them don’t share many words after that. It’s not like they’re suddenly friends now but they’re less hostile towards each other.

Eventually the strange yellow portal appears once again and Logan leaves. The time he spent here feels like a fever dream. Maybe it was? But you notice that James holds you a little tighter for a little longer now. He also rests a little easier. He knows where he’s headed, what’s to come.

But its a little easier knowing that no matter what, you’ll always have him. 

[shra-vasti]

I DON'T LIKE YOUR GIRLFRIEND, PJS (PART 2)

• SYNOPSIS: A fleeting encounter with Park Jay at a high school party leaves a quiet imprint on your then broken heart. Years later, you find him again, now as an icy guitarist of the campus boy band, HYPHENIX. You never spoke again, but you remembered his eyes, his words, his presence and how he lingered at the back of your mind years after. You wanted to reach for him, but he was so far, popular, untouchable that you decided to pour your heart to him in secret, until the secret was revealed but someone else claimed it before you could.

Or in which you pour your heart into anonymous letters for the cold, distant guitarist, Jay, only to watch your best friend claim every word as her own.

• PAIRING: Park Jongseong (Jay) x afab!reader

• WORD COUNT: 20.9k

• CONTENT TAGS: Non idol au, university settings, angst, hurt/comfort, fluff, strangers to lovers, slow burn, shy reader x popular Jay, down bad reader, betrayal, abandonment, miscommunications or lack of communications, profanities, name calling, stereotyping, best friend's boyfriend, reader is nosy and loves other people's business way too much (my twin fr), fear of rejection and unwanted attention, body image issues in the beginning, toxic relationships and friendships, low-key stalker reader, reader wears glasses, not proofread, lmk if I missed anything.

• WARNING TAGS: MDNI, smut, soft dom!Jay, sub!reader, choking, hair pulling, dry humping, oral (fem receiving), multiple orgasms, reader isn't a virgin but is inexperienced.

PART 1

• AUTHOR'S NOTE: This is the second part, I hope you'll like it. Your likes, comments and reblogs are always welcomed and appreciated. Thank you so much for showering my write ups with your love. Happy reading♡♡

Your heels clack sharply against the tiles, still you're moving, pushing away people from your way, almost knocking over drinks that were kept on the counter. By the time you're near the door, he's already walking down the stairs. You turn around briefly to look at Ava's room from where Jay walked out but you were disappointed to see her nowhere in sight. The thought made you angry, if she was going to take what should've been yours she should've at least done it properly. She should've taken care of his heart, she should've at least pretended to care, instead she didn't even make an effort to follow him out. You turned back around, feet barely stable as you ran down the stairs, "Jay, wait!"

His steps don't flatter, his shoulders hunched as he walked towards his car, you increased your pace, because you couldn't see him like this, couldn't watch him walk away from her, away from you, when he doesn't even know the whole truth behind everything that is happening in his life. His steps slow down as he reaches near his car and you extend your hand to grab his arm. "Jay-" your fingers clasp around his jacket, "wait please." And he stops, not because he wanted to but because the voice that rang in his ears is yours and not hers. His shoulders stiffened, then he spun, and suddenly, before you could even react, he crashed into your arms with a force which felt more emotional than physical. His arms circled around your waist tightly as a sob escaped his lips.

You sighed deeply, unable to form words as his body shook in your arms. You held him tightly, one hand cradling his head as he buried his head in your neck. You stayed still, trying to be his anchor when his world was falling apart right in your arms. You could feel his tears slide down your chest from your neck, you rubbed his back in order to console him. After a while his sobs subsided but his hold on you remained tight, not too much to hurt but enough to remind you of their presence on your body, firm enough to know you won't disappear. He pulled away from you, his movements abrupt as if someone had just poured a bucket of ice water on him in the middle of the winter. He took a few steps back, hands grasping the door of his car. He looked at you.

"What are you doing here?" His eyes glassy as he questioned you, his gaze fell behind your figure to see if there's anyone else. You took a few deep breaths to calm yourself, ears ringing and eyes sensitive, "are you okay?" You saw his bottom lip quiver at your words, his shoulders slumping as if everything around him was weighing him down. "You should be inside, enjoying your night-" "I should. But I couldn't stay when I saw you walk out." The grip he had on the car's door wavered and he let his hand fall. "Why?" He questioned, eyes hazy as steps drifting closer, his hand lifting up to your face, "you seemed to be enjoying yourself on the dance floor though..." he mumbled as he swiped his thumb against the corner of your mouth, hand trembling slightly, "what do you mean?" Your breath shuddered, one hand clasping around his jacket.

"Your lipstick smudged a little," his gaze locked into your lips, "there, all good." You exhaled the breath you were holding when he stepped back, his thumb stained with the lipstick he removed from the corner of your mouth. He turned towards the car and you grabbed his shoulder to hold him back, "Jay, it isn't what it looked like." He faced you, tongue poking inside of his cheek as he scoffed softly, "doesn't matter to me, it's your life anyway," he opened the door and you stepped forward, the hand grabbing his shoulder moving up to rest softly against his face, "don't shut off, you always do this when you're stressed," your thumb brushed against his cheek, wiping the tears that had fell, "and it hurts to watch you lock everything inside you like you're alone in this. Lean on me, talk to me, just don't shut yourself out."

He observed you for a while, unable to find any words that would contradict yours. His eyes fell upon the people coming out of Ava's house and he held your hand, tugging you towards the passenger's seat and quickly running back towards the driver's seat, "I don't want people to misunderstand us, let's talk somewhere else." You turned around in your seat to look at people leaving the party, "you're right..." he looked at you before watching the people through his rearview mirror, "yeah." He started driving, and you couldn't tell where exactly he was trying to take you. He pulled up in an empty parking lot, got out and opened your door for you. He locked the car door and made his way towards the curb and sat on it, hands in his head as he took deep breaths to calm himself.

You slowly made your way towards him, giving him time to calm himself, you sat down beside him, not too far, nor too close. You removed your heels, feet aching with all the running, you put them beside you, hands instinctively holding your ankle to massage it a bit as you waited for Jay to say something. "Are they hurting that bad?" Your eyes found his face but his hands were focused on your leg, you stopped your movements, folding your arms on your knees, "tell me what happened." His eyes finally met yours and he sighed, "we had a fight, and I walked out." You put your head on your knees as you nodded at his words, "I don't like big parties, I'm allergic to chocolate, she knew about this, I wrote those things in the letters I sent back to her and she's trying to make me the crazy one for not appreciating her efforts."

"Jay," you started even though you had no idea what to say. "I don't get it anymore," he sighed as he run his hand through his hair, "those letters mean the world to me, gave me the strength when I almost gave up, they talked about me, not the popular guitarist of HYPHENIX, those letters understood my silences and that's why I fell, that's why I thought I could have something real with Ava." You watch him unravel in front of you and you swallow back the burning feeling igniting in your stomach at his words, "maybe she never expected you to hold those letters so dearly, Jay." He looked at his eyes darkening as the possibility of your words being true settled inside him, "how could I not hold those letters close? They were the foundation of our relationship, the Ava who wrote those letters saw through me when everyone else just expected me to be perfect."

You smiled softly looking down at your hands at his words, "maybe you're trying to hold onto a version of her which only existed in those letters, sometimes people portray a version of themselves which they can't live up to, which leads to disappointment and heartbreak." He nodded at your words feeling confused yet understood, "maybe I am but is that my fault? For believing in it?" You shook your head at its words, laughing slightly, "It's not your fault for believing, its hers for not living up to it, sometimes it's easier to pretend especially if the words are wrapped in kind and comforting words inside an envelope."

"But her kind and comforting words were the exact reason why I fell for her, but now when I try to connect with her, she diverts the topic like it isn't a big deal. For her spotlight is everything, she always gushes about it, but when she wrote me those letters, she never once mentioned about my popularity, her letters rather focused on my musicality," you nodded your head as if you don't remember every single thing you wrote on those letters, like it doesn't hurt to watch him going through so much pain when all you wanted was for him to be happy, "maybe she doesn't know you the way you thought she would. Maybe she wasn't as serious about those letters as you were."

He turned his body towards you fully, eyes narrowing deep in thought, "no one can notice things that deep if they aren't serious about it," you play with the bracelet in your hand nervously, "how am I supposed to find a solution to this?" He sighed as he buried his head on his hands, you contemplated to reach out to him but you did it anyway, your hand slide up to run your finger through his hair, he didn't stop you, "don't force yourself to be somewhere you don't belong, if you feel she's not the person you fell in love with then it's better to break things up." He lifted his head enough to look at you, "It's not that easy," you let your hand fall on your lap, sighing deeply you muttered something which always lingered at the back of your mind, "Jay, don’t build your entire world around someone who can’t hold it for you."

Your eyes fell upon the stars that shone brightly above you, and his eyes were focused on you as those words left his mouth, "I think I might confront her about this whole situation, I really don't like how things are going in between us, we always fight and pretend in front of others that everything is fine. I don't like it." Your mind drifted far off as you watched the night sky, feeling exhausted at the events that unfolded today. You thought Ava would take notice of basic things and at least pretend to care for Jay, but it was clear that all she wanted was popularity rather than a companion. You blame yourself for supporting her reckless choices cause now you're doubting every single thing you did that led you to this moment.

Your lips twitched in discomfort, you knew watching Ava in Jay's arms would be hard but watching him break down in front of you because of her was harder. You wanted to tell him he deserved the kind of love he hoped he'd get from Ava, that it's not wrong to fall for someone and be disappointed when their actions wouldn't match their words. But how would they match when both of you were two different people? You cursed internally, taking a deep breath, if only she never lied, if only you never supported her. God you hated her so much for complicating things. "Jay," his name left your mouth like a confession, he hummed, eyes still trained on your face, "I don't like your girlfriend."

Sunghoon checked the time on his phone, squinting slightly as the sun was up, he knocked on the door, stepped a few steps back and waited, "oh! You're here!" He heard the person at the door say, leaning his weight on one of his legs, eyes glued to his phone as he scrolled to instagram. He barely hummed in response, finally looking up, "Where are the gifts?" Ava's smile dropped at his dull tone, "well good morning to you too," she said, rolling her eyes and stepping aside to make way for him. Sunghoon wordlessly put his phone inside his jeans pocket, entering the same house he was in yesterday night, he looked at the surroundings. The house was yet to be cleaned fully, "I'll call some cleaners to help you with the cleaning-" his words were cut off when Ava grabbed his arms, "no, I've got this, though thank you for offering your help, you're such a gentleman Hoon."

Sunghoon gulped, removing her hands from his arm, "it's Sunghoon for you." Ava frowned at his words, pout forming on her face as she glared at him, "but you let her call you Hoon though." He sighed, looking anywhere but her face, "she is allowed to call me that. I allowed her to call me that. I don't recall asking you to call me Hoon." She stepped forward, closing the distance between them, and Sunghoon stepped back, "you should be close to me not her, I'm your best friend's girlfriend!" He exhaled deeply, already regretting coming to her house, "exactly, my best friend's girlfriend, and your association with Jay doesn't define if you'll get close to me or not, it's actually based on how you are as a person."

Ava scoffed, flicking her hair back as if she couldn't grasp the concept, "she's not even that fun, doesn't do parties, isn't popular, has nothing special about her, she's not interesting....I don't know why you pay so much attention to her!" Sunghoon looked at her, boredom laced on his face but his eyes showed the quiet furry he felt within, "well at least she doesn't back-bitch about her best friend! Maybe we like her better because she's a better person than you'll ever be Avalyn." She flinched at his harsh tone, footsteps retreating, "Sunghoon....don't get close to her please." He scoffed at her, eyes trained on the main door then towards the huge cardboard box placed in the corner labelled 'Jay's gift', "you greedy woman, you're dating my best friend yet you're trying to continue to hit on me?"

He took a few steps towards her, and she backed off, suddenly trembling under his intense gaze, "isn't he enough for you? I thought you stopped being a fucking whore and finally came to your senses, guess I was wrong, huh?" She fell down on the chair behind her, eyes shut closed as Sunghoon's words rang in her ears, "you kept on harassing me to sleep with you, even after I clearly declined, then suddenly my best friend introduced you as his girlfriend to me, you think I'm stupid?" Her lips trembled as she looked up at him, eyes glossy but he continued, "and I know your games Ava, you think I believed you when you said you wrote those letters for Jay? I don't think your pea-sized brain could even comprehend a single sentence written on it. I'm entertaining you just because I care too much about Jay and his feelings to hurt him bluntly by the truth."

"Sunghoon, please don't tell him, I beg you. I really love Jay, I'll take care of him well..." His hand slammed against the wall near him, "you're dating him for quite some time and yet you don't know what things he likes and dislikes and you're telling me you'll take care of him?" Tears fell from her eyes, hands shaking at the possibility of her truth being exposed, "Sunghoon, I'll be a good girlfriend, I'll keep him happy, please I beg you." He just looked at her, walking towards the gift box and picking it up in his arms, "you still try to hit on me subtly and say you'll be a good girlfriend? You think I don't notice your advances? Don't notice how whenever me and your best friend are close you take her away from me? You can't even be a good friend Ava, how will you ever be a good girlfriend? You're just a selfish bitch who only thinks about herself."

Sunghoon turned around towards the door, taking a few long strides to reach his car, he put the gift box in the backseat and shut the door of his car. He opened the door of the driver's seat when Ava grabbed his hand, and turned to face her, "I can ruin your friendship if I want, you know?" She spoke through gritted teeth, hands now clenched in fist by her side, "you think Jay would be by your side if I tell him you tried to take advantage of me?"

Sunghoon blinked at her once, twice, then laughed loud and full, straight from his chest as he threw his head back. He grabbed the hood of his car to keep his balance. He wiped the tears that escaped his eyes as he calmed himself, "I wanted to say something hurtful but your words just made me realize how pitiful you are," Ava frowned at his words, "maybe if you weren’t so selfish and actually knew how to keep real friends, you wouldn't be so quick to throw out threats like this. But go ahead and see if he believes that over someone who has known him better than you ever will." He turned around, sliding into his driver's seat and driving off without giving her a single chance to speak.

Sunghoon parked his car in Jay's parking place, taking notice of Jay's car being parked in its usual spot. He picked up the gift box and made his way towards the main door. He kicked his door, flinching slightly as the door was unlocked so it slammed against the wall. The sound woke Jay up from where he was curled up on his couch in the living room, "what the fuck is up with you?" Jay mumbled although he wanted to lecture his friend about guest etiquette. "Ah close the door for me yeah? As you can see my lord, my hands are full." Sunghoon took off his shoes and invited himself into his best friend's house, keeping his gift box on the coffee table and jumping to sit on the couch.

"Since you weren't replying to your girl, she asked me to pick up your gifts from her house," Sunghoon grumbled reminiscing about the texts after texts he got from Ava which forced him to go and get Jay's gift. Jay just shrugged, still half asleep, rubbing his eyes as he approached Sunghoon, "did you atleast eat something?" Jay nodded at his friend's words, "yeah, I woke up, got fresh, made breakfast and ate it, washed the dishes, then slept again." Jay slumped beside Sunghoon, yawning. "Wow, I expected more sulking and less functioning adult energy from you."

Jay rolled his eyes, sitting up straight to open the box, "why did she call you? Could've waited for me to reply to her back..." Sunghoon looked at Jay, his mind drifting back to Ava's house, "she said her parent's will be home tonight, she needed to get rid of everything before they arrive," Jay nodded, remembering Ava telling him about her parents being very strict about everything. He remembered her telling him that you are her only friend whom her parents trust. "I'll get going, I am having some issues with my keyboard, I'll have it checked." Jay bid him goodbye and made his way back inside the house to open up the gift box.

He took off the gifts inside the box one by one, placing them neatly on the ground or on the coffee table as he emptied the box and folded it to throw it in the trash bin at the back of his house. He folded the cardboard box and made his way towards his backyard, he placed the box near the trash bin and started making his way back towards the house. His footsteps halted when he saw an envelope fallen near the backdoor of his house. He crouched down to pick it up, turning it around to inspect it carefully, 'Dear, Jay.' it read.

His eyebrow furrowed while looking at the envelope, a sense of familiarity growing within his heart as he read the label of the envelope. The handwriting, a huge smile etched upon his face at the familiar scribble of words, though in the letters he received the writer used to call his name a bit differently, he found himself feeling relieved. He made his way inside his room, rummaging through his closet to take out the box where he kept all the letters together. He took out one random letter to compare the handwriting, praying continuously for it to be the same. It had been a while since he saw the handwriting and he laughed at himself for being so excited over a trivial thing.

He grabbed his phone, when he found the handwriting matched, grinning happily even before opening the envelope to see what's inside. After a few rings Ava picked up the phone, her voice shaky as he finally called her back after being ignored for a whole night, "Jay, I'm sorry for yesterday baby, please don't be mad at me, I love you so much." He smiled at her, eyes focused upon the envelope on his hand, "It's okay Ava, I love you too, I just got your gift, thank you so much, baby. You made me so happy you have no idea." She laughed at his excited tone, breathing in relief that Sunghoon didn't share anything with him about what happened at her house, "you loved your gift?" She asked, her voice relaxed now, "yes I did."

"Thank god, Jay. I was stressed if you'd love it or not, I mean it took me days to find that limited edition watch, I'm so glad you loved it. Don't forget to wear it when you come to meet me, okay?" Jay's smile flattered as he focused on Ava's words then back at the envelope in his hand, a watch? His brows twitching in confusion, "did you attach anything else with your gift Ava?" He questioned, inspecting the envelope as if it would answer his questions, "umm just a bow." Jay hummed, his heartbeat frantic, "okay baby, I'll meet you soon." "See you." He hung up the phone, scoffing at himself as he laid back on his bed, the letters and envelope still spread near his legs. He picked up the envelope, sighing as he looked at it.

He dialed Ava's number again, mind swirling with thoughts waiting for her to pick up, "Jay? Did you forget something?" He sighed, putting the phone on speaker and keeping the letters back inside the box, "umm," he wondered, an idea popping in his head, "be ready in 2 hours, wanna spoil you a bit for giving me my birthday gift..." he could hear the excited squeal left leaving from her mouth, "why? You didn't have to, what do you want me to wear?" He chuckled, "wear anything, you look pretty anyway." He hung up the phone before she could speak further.

Jay was getting ready to pick Ava when his phone rang, the called ID showing 'Dikeu' in bold, he chuckled looking at the contact name for Jake, realizing Sunghoon must've changed it when he wasn't looking at his phone, "I'm free, wanna hangout?" Jay's eyebrows furrowed as he concentrated on the soft background music playing, "since when did your music taste change?" He could hear Jake chuckle as he turned the music off, "nah, the song is good, but I wasn't the one playing that..." Jay's heartbeat quickened, "who were you with?" Jake blinked once before your name left his lips.

"Oh what was she doing with you?" Jake pouted on the other end of the phone as if Jay could see him, "you aren't even interested in me anymore?" Jay groaned and a chuckle left Jake's mouth, "I dropped her home, our classes ended at the same time. Are you gonna tell me if you're free to hangout or not?" Jay rubbed his temple but replied nonetheless, "I've a date with Ava, I can't hangout today," Jake hummed, thinking on who to irritate next now that Jay was busy, "okay, I'll irritate someone else then!"

Jay leaned on his car as he waited for Ava to come out of her house, "Jay!" He lifted his head, eyes taking in her short satin dress that fit her body perfectly, she smiled at him, one hand stretched out for him to take, he held her hand, pulling her closer to give a quick kiss on her cheek, he guided her towards the passenger's seat and made himself comfortable on the driver's seat. The engine hummed beneath them as Jay scrolled through his playlist. When he found the song, he pressed play and Lee Hi’s Breathe poured softly into the car’s hush. He gave a quick glance towards Ava who didn't even utter a single word about his choice of the song.

"You wanna change the music or is this song fine?" She nodded at him, before he watched her lean towards the screen to play another, more upbeat song, "We are going on a date, I don't think dull songs like that match the vibe." Jay's eyebrows twitched but he didn't press further, just hummed in response and started driving off. After a while, "Jay," Ava called softly as she looked at him, he signaled her to continue, his eyes trained on the road, "I shouldn't have argued with you yesterday, I'm sorry, it was your birthday I should've been more patient," Jay smiled at her, one hand clutching the wheel while other was placed on his own lap.

Ava looked at his expressions before continuing, "It's just that I was so angry, I had to do everything alone since your friends decided to exclude me, even my own best friend didn't tell me about the surprise party. I felt so betrayed, I tried my best but it all crumpled down when I accidentally ordered the wrong cake, I mean, people can make mistakes right? But still, I'm sorry for making you feel like you don't matter to me..." she trailed off realizing Jay had barely acknowledged the words that slipped her lips, "didn't you say that it was the bakery who made the mistake?" Her breath hitched as she clasped both her hands together on her lap, "Isn't that the same thing?" Jay didn't question her further.

He stopped his car near a high end restaurant, handing over his car keys to the valet, he slid his hand on Ava's waist to pull her close. The restaurant was beautiful, with high ceilings and open plan structure so one could enjoy the view of nature around it. Ava gasped, thrilled to be at such a place, she turned around, giving Jay a little kiss before she dragged him towards a spot she wanted to sit. He pulled a chair for her, then made himself comfortable. The waiter handed both of them the menu card and left, but as soon as Ava was about to discuss what she wanted to eat, he stopped her, his smile sickeningly sweet as he looked at her.

"I'll order for you," he said, leaning a bit towards the table, "I remember you writing about your favorite dishes in the letters, I want to be a good boyfriend and prove you that I remember all those things you wrote," Jay held her hand, softly rubbing circles at the back of her hand. She laughed awkwardly, nodding her head with way too much enthusiasm, he looked at her for a second too long, before dropping his gaze back on the menu, "since it's still day time, let's order tea first," He signaled the waiter to take the order, "two chamomile-lavender tea please," the waiter nodded asking if they needed anything else and Jay informed him he'll update further.

"Chamomile-......lavender tea?" Jay grinned at Ava's expressions, "yeah? I never tried drinking that combination but now that you're with me I thought why not? If in case I don't find it pleasing I can just pass it to you since you're so crazy about it." Ava's lips twitched but she managed to mask it behind a polite smile, swallowing a lump from her throat, "I hope you'll like," she trailed off, looking at the view, "I feel so refreshed after drinking it." Jay hummed clearly amused by her ability to still try her best at blending in, "refreshing? Didn't you say the bitterness of this combo helps you stay awake when coffee doesn't do it for you?" She pulled her hand out of his grip and clenched her hands tightly on her lap, "yeah that too."

"Here's your tea," the waiter placed the drinks on the table and Jay looked at Ava expectantly, she smiled at his direction, placing a trembling hand on the cup and take a sip, "I thought you'd be more enthusiastic about drinking it," Ava grimaced at the taste, but masked it with a semi-awkward smile which didn't even reach its full potential, "I am, just feeling tired from yesterday's party." He nodded solemnly at her words and urged her to continue drinking, smiling as he took a sip of the tea himself, "Ah it's too bitter for me," he pushed the tea towards Ava, "please finish this for me too baby." He could see color drain from her face but still acted oblivious, humming a song or complimenting the restaurant's architecture.

Ava finished both the tea, he grinned at her, kissing her hand and complimenting her, "I need to go to the bathroom, one second." He watched as Ava rushed off to the bathroom, leaning back on the chair and sighing. Ava came back, a bit breathless, Jay ordered the food and she sighed in relief that he ordered something she could eat without feeling like throwing up. "You okay baby? You don't look good," Ava sat on her chair, dabbing the sweat off her forehead with tissues, "Yeah, I don't know, I'm feeling suffocated suddenly," Jay watched her, nodding his head, "okay, let's get out of here then." He paid the bill and made their way towards the next destination he had in his mind.

"Baby what's this?" Ava wondered when he stopped the car in an unknown lane, getting out of the car and helping her with it. "You don't recognize? Didn't you say you loved this place?" Ava's heartbeat quickened, eyes wondering on numbers of small shops and stores lining up one after the other. Her eyes took in the surroundings, "haha, yeah. I remember this, it's just that I'm feeling so tired that my brain isn't working." Jay hummed, holding her hand and pulling her inside a bookstore hidden in between two large clothing shops. "It's okay, you said the smell of books calms you down, that's the reason I brought you here." She nodded wordlessly at his words, rubbing her nose slightly at the lavender candle lit at the entrance of the bookstore.

Ava panicked, realizing that Jay planned this whole date based on the letters written by his secret admirer. She could still feel her throat itching even after forcing herself to throw up the tea in the bathroom and if this thing continued she wasn't sure if she would be able to cover up. Jay made his way towards her, hand holding a couple of books which Ava didn't recognize and another holding a lavender scented candle. "Ava? You good baby?" Her nose itched, turning a bit red as she looked at Jay, clearly anxious, "Jay, it's getting late, shall we go back? I'm not feeling good at all, baby." He sighed, placing the candle back on the shelves and paying for the books before agreeing with Ava. She sighed in relief as they made their way back towards the car.

"Baby?" Ava hummed as she looked at the passing cars, "wanna hangout at my place before I drop you off at yours? We don't have to do anything, just cuddle, maybe drink some alcohol if you're up to it? Hm?" He glanced at her, before concentrating back on the road, "okay, sounds good to me." Jay smiled, extending his hand to give her hand a gentle squeeze. When they reached his house, he helped her remove her heels, taking her hand and guiding her towards his bedroom. Ava laughed, nudging Jay a little bit, "Wait here, I'll bring the drink." Ava sat on the bed, looking at his room, "open the sliding door, we'll drink outside, you'd love it."

Ava nodded, opening the door and helping Jay with the drinks. They were in the middle of drinking when the weather became gloomy, dark clouds spreading all throughout the sky, few drops of rain fell upon their clothes and Jay urged Ava to get inside. He bought the drinks and glasses inside, neatly putting the glasses on the sink. Till the time he returned from the kitchen, heavy downpour had blurred the word around them, and in the distance, thunder rolled low and slow. Ava flinched slightly, her hands clutching the comforter, "you okay baby?" She looked up, smiling slightly and he made his way towards her, eyes trained on the rain.

"Yes, just startled." Jay squinted his eyes at her, tilting his head, "thought you said you loved storms, why are you startled?" Ava shrugged, flinching again when lightning struck again, "why would I say that, I hate storms!" He crouched in front of her, his gaze hardening, "isn't that crazy? You said you loved the storms as it made you feel like you aren't the only one who is unraveling. I remember it clearly, you wrote about it, how they make you feel at peace." Ava froze, her eyes widening and body trembling under his fierce gaze, "I was just in a different headspace at that time."

"You always say that Ava, I was in a different headspace, I was feeling poetic, I didn't think you'd think so deeply of it, my opinion changed. It never ends!" Ava stood up, walking towards the bedroom door to create some distance in between them, "I was just trying my best to impress you because I love you, Jay. You're comparing me to a version of myself I curated just for you." Jay followed her, breath ragging, "are you sure that's the truth?" Ava paused, hesitating to say another word, "what do you mean?" she mumbled, leaning against the door.

"I just think, Avalyn," He taunted, voice low and dangerously calm, "I think you saw someone laying their heart bare, you saw how everyone noticed, you saw something genuine, which you could never be, and instead of respecting it like everyone else, you dressed yourself in someone else's devotion and had the audacity to call it yours!" He took a step closer, eyes burning through her, he slammed one hand on the door beside her head, "you saw someone bleed their love on the paper and got greedy. You never wanted love, just attention, and you didn’t care whose heart you had to break just to get what you wanted."

Ava looked at him, tears welling up in her eyes, she pushed Jay away, scoffing in disbelief, "you really think I would do something like that? After everything I've done for you? God! I knew this would happen, you just want a reason to get rid of me now that you're bored." Jay's jaw clenched at her words, "I'm sorry I didn't live up to your fantasy Jay, sorry that I couldn't talk in ink and metaphors for you." Jay pushed her against the door, eyes narrowing at her words, "it isn't about ink and metaphors, it's about the meaning behind them, you claimed those thoughts were yours, you silenced someone Avalyn, you banned someone from loving me the only way they knew how." Ava's jaw clenched but she kept quiet, unable to say anything in her defense with the way Jay was looking at her.

"Here's what you're going to do now Avalyn," he started, stepping back and glaring at her, his tone calm and calculated, "in few weeks it's your birthday, you're going to tell everyone there that you lied about those letters, and I'll tell them I don't hold any grudge against you so that we can both part ways without creating anymore mess." Ava's eyes widened at his words, all the things she did to gain the popularity wilting away in front of her eyes, "please Jay? Can't you give me a chance? We were doing fine, we can continue to do that. If the person who sent those letters to you loved you enough she would have exposed me long ago, but she didn't right? Please Jay, I beg you." Jay rubbed his temple, groaning as he threw his head back in frustration, "no, just do as I say, in a few weeks, at your birthday party, tell everyone the truth, and we're done for!"

You heave a sigh as you stand, leaning on one of the pillars of your university campus, looking at the downpour. It had been raining since yesterday night and hasn't stopped since then. Most of the students had either left the campus or found home in some corner or the university where they could wait till the downpour was light enough to travel through. You heard someone call your name, you turned slightly, smiling when you found Heeseung wave at you. "Done with your class?" You questioned, your eyes falling on your mobile screen to see if Ava responded to your texts or calls. "Yes, I wanted to go home but the rain is so heavy, you can't even see what's in front of you." You offered him a quick nod, eyes trained on the rainfall, but your mind drifted towards something else. Ava didn't attend any classes today, which was completely normal but what irked you most was her skipping the cheer practice. Her friends had stopped you to ask about her whereabouts and the only thing you could do was shrug in response.

"Yah, both of you," you jumped a little at the sudden voice, Heeseung chuckled before turning around to face his friend, Jake, "are you just going to stand there and watch the rain? Might as well come inside the music room and chill." You and Heeseung made your way inside the music room, you walked towards the window, dragging a chair with you, and sat on it, sighing. "I don't think the rain is going to stop anytime soon...." Sunghoon's voice trailed off as he spotted your figure sitting near the window as he walked inside the music room while talking to Jay. "Looks like someone loves rain way too much," Sunghoon smirked as he dragged a desk near your chair and sat on it, startling you in the process.

Jay quietly made his way towards the couch, slumping against it as he watched you interact with Sunghoon, a weird knot forming in his chest as he remembered you and Sunghoon sharing a kiss right in the middle of his birthday party. He kept wondering why he would feel so jealous in the first place, it wasn't like any of you were betraying him but he couldn't help but feel weirdly hurt whenever he saw both of you together. He was sure that if he kept on glaring at both of you with the same intensity then he'd actually be able to punch a hole in Sunghoon's face.

"Jay, did you bring your car?" Heeseung's voice brought him back to reality, his eyes looked around the room to see everyone already looking at him, he blinked a few times before nodding his head yes. Heeseung eyed him skeptically before nodding his head at his words, "so, Sunghoon, Jake and I slept over my house yesterday so we just took my car to come here," Jay nodded, hands playing with the ripped part of his jeans, "yeah so I need to take these two back to my house to retrieve their cars which is in complete opposite direction to where she lives," he pointed his index finger at you and you glared at him, "so will you drop her off?" Jay's eyes met yours, you smiled a little and he nodded, "ofcourse, I would. It shouldn't be a question."

And now you were sitting inside Jay's car as he pulled out of the university's campus. You leaned your head against the window, trying your best to not steal glances at Jay. You noticed he looked tired than usual, like he didn't get any sleep last night and with the way Ava had completely shut you out today, something must've happened between them again. You remember Jake texting you yesterday to ask if you were free to hangout, you had planned on deep cleaning your apartment that day so you declined and he told you Jay was busy taking Ava on date, you figured they mended the things between them but guess you were perhaps wrong.

You were busy with your thoughts when Jay's phone rang, he pulled his car aside and stopped, picking up the phone. You looked at him briefly as he was busy talking with someone on the phone. After sometime he hung up, giving you a side smile, "give me a few minutes, I just need to send this location to my cousin." You nodded, taking out your own phone to scroll through instagram when a loud thunder roared through the sky, your eyes widened at the sound, "damn, that was loud," you couldn't help but say as you leaned towards the windshield to look at the sky. Jay looked at you, surprised as you finally spoke something. "Scared of storms?" He questioned, giving you a quick glance before resuming his task, "no, I'm not. Just amazed by the intensity."

He locked his phone screen, throwing it somewhere in the compartment, the sound of thunder immediately sent his brain in a flashback mode, his mind drifting to the events that unfolded the previous night. He then turned his eyes on your figure which was still leaning towards the windshield, hands placed on the glass to wipe the condensation and see the view clearly. "You seem quite fascinated by the view," he couldn't help but chuckle at your wonder-like expressions, "oh I love storms, it brings me peace! I could sit and observe it all day!" Jay's smile flattered at your words, chest tightening at the familiarity of the words. He quickly swallowed the tension building in his throat and started driving towards your apartment.

You reached your apartment building, the thunder still loud above you, even the trees hazardly swayed left and right, and you could barely manage to stand still without struggling a bit against the wind. You knocked on the window of Jay's car and waited for him to roll it down. "I think it will be better if you wait for the weather to calm down a bit," you suggested. He shook his head, turning around his seat to look at the scenario out of the parking space of your building, "I think I can manage-" His words got cut off when a large tree branch flew past both of your line of vision, ripped from the tree like it was nothing, "yeah I think I can wait for a little bit." You smiled at him, stepping back and moving towards the elevator to press your floor button. Jay joined you inside the elevator and you sighed waiting for it to reach your floor.

"Would you like something to drink? Tea? Hot Coffee?" Jay paused to think, fingers tapping against his chin in deep thought as he sat on your couch, "what type of tea do you have?" You smiled bashfully, leaning against your kitchen door, "Mr. Park, what type would you like to drink? Your wish would be my command." He laughed at your words, "do you have chamomile tea?" You nodded your head in enthusiasm which Jay couldn't help but reciprocate, "I have all the types of tea, I sort of have a weird fixation on it." He smirked, getting up from the couch and following you inside the kitchen. He leaned against the kitchen counter, humming softly as he watched you gather the ingredients to make the tea. "Wow, you indeed have a crazy collection of tea."

You grinned back at him, opening the cabinet wider for him to get a better look, he stepped closer, hands raking his fingers through the jars. "Damn, you could open a tea stall," you solemnly nodded as if actually considering his suggestion. "What tea is your favorite? Taking a look at the jars I would say..." he trailed off, looking through the jars, "black, chamomile and lavender tea are your top picks." You gave him a thumbs up, taking the chamomile tea's jar off the cabinet and shutting it close. He made himself comfortable on the chair against the kitchen counter as he watched you make the tea, comfortable silence settled between them, the only sound being gentle clatter of cups, and soft bubbling of the water.

You poured the tea into two cups and slide one in front of him as you sat beside him, he smelled the tea, "oh it smells calming..." you grinned, taking a whiff of the tea yourself, "the weather is so beautiful, and the chamomile tea just made it more perfect, but do you want honey added into yours? I like to drink it bitter, I have to submit an essay tomorrow so I need to stay awake..." you mindlessly trailed off searching the cabinets for the bottle of honey, not realizing the weight of your words, mind temporarily forgetting about you mentioning about it in one of the letters. Jay felt a sense of deja vu take over inside him yet again but before he could say a single word to you the doorbell rang.

You put the bottle of honey in front of him, wondering who would visit you at this time. You made your way towards the living room and looked at the window at the end of the hallway, the weather had calmed down significantly. You opened the door, swinging it open to see Ava standing in front of you, she huffed a breath, "I've been ringing your doorbell since forever," she rolled her eyes, stepping forward and pushing your figure aside slightly since you didn't move an inch. "I've been trying to reach you since last night and you ignored me, and now you randomly showed up at my apartment without replying or calling me back?" You complained as you followed her figure back into your living room.

"Do I need to always inform you about my whereabouts or something?" She hissed, sitting on your couch rather harshly, "my mood is so off, my life is about to turn upside down and you only care about me ghosting you?" You crossed your arms over your chest, leaning your weight on one of your legs, "well yes since I texted and called you to ask about those exact things Ava!" You saw Jay slowly making his way towards the living room from your peripheral vision, he stood just near the kitchen door, Ava's back against his. "You should have tried harder to reach me, you could've skipped classes and visited me home, I even missed my cheer practice for God's sake!" You nervously glanced at Jay before speaking, "you know I had an important exam today, I told you about it ages ago, and it was raining so heavily how do you expect me to visit you?"

"I don't care, you should be beside me when I shut you out, shouldn't you as my best friend seek me when I pull away from everyone?" She complained, hands pulling at her head. "Well she tried reaching out to you through texts and calls, what more do you want her to do when there's a storm going on and she doesn't have any vehicle?" Ava sat up straight, eyes going wide as Jay stood beside you, "Jay? What are you doing here?" Her gaze travelled in between you and him, wondering how he had time to be at your apartment when he didn't reply to even a single text from her. "That shouldn't be your main focus, is this how you always talk with her?" You grabbed his arm when he stepped closer to her, his jaw clenched, Ava's gaze landed on your hand on Jay's arm, you released your hold when he stopped his steps.

"Answer me!" You flinched at the tone of his voice, Ava swallowed, clenching her fist tightly, "no, I'm not thinking straight and wanted to seek solace in my best friend especially after what happened last night!" Jay scoffed, pinching his nose in annoyance, "this isn't how you seek solace in someone..." Ava slammed her head against the back of the couch, clearly not prepared for Jay's interrogation, "I'm sorry, what are you doing here anyway?" Jay shrugged, turning towards you, "I think I should get going, the weather is calm enough for me to drive back, thanks for the tea." You nodded at him, bidding him goodbye and closing the door behind him, confusion etched upon your face.

"How come my boyfriend was in your apartment?" You turned around to look at Ava who was already on her feet, making her way towards the kitchen. You followed her to find her standing near the kitchen counter, taking a sip of tea from your cup. She instantly spit it out in the sink, throwing the rest of the tea along with it. "I didn't even take a single sip!" You groaned as you approached her, "since when do you drink this shit?" You squint your eyes at her words, her face contouring into that of a grimace, "what do you mean since when? You should know I prefer drinking tea to calm myself." Ava stopped midway, your words dawning heavy on her shoulder as she remembered what Jay said about drinking chamomile-lavender tea. She shook her head, making her way back into your living room.

"What happened to you anyway? Are you guys fighting or something? He didn't even say goodbye to you," you sat beside her, keeping your head on the back of the couch. "He found out I didn't write those letters..." she trailed off, her fingernails digging at her skin, "what?" You straightened up, eyes going wide at the realization, "how?" She scoffed, slumping against the armrest, "I didn't even get to bask in my popularity that much, how am I supposed to explain this to my other friends and cheer team?" You rubbed your temple, feeling anxious, "is that what you're worried about?" Ava rolled her eyes, "he wants me to confess about lying in my birthday party."

"What?" Ava sat up, looking straight into your eyes, no guilt about what she did, "he said something about confessing that I lied and then he wouldn't make a big deal out of this and then we can part ways," you looked at her for a moment, taking in all the things she dumped into you in a span of 5 minutes, "I warned you about this, but you didn't listen, just apologize to him, tell him you want to silently part ways, maybe if you look sorry enough he'll forgive you." She threw her hand in the air, "no he won't make this any easier, he was quite angry." You sighed, "well of course he is, you literally lied your way into the relationship, he must be feeling so betrayed and hurt, I told you not to do that, why do you have to be so selfish Ava?"

"Oh you two seem to be so deeply connected with each other to always defend each other's feelings in front of me, who's best friend are you? Try to think of something!" You shook your head at her, completely declining to be the one to help her after what she did, "you are going to do what he said, that's the only way you can get him to forgive you." She groaned, slamming her head against the armrest in frustration, "you aren't helping me with this," she got up, gathering all of her belongings and slamming the door shut behind her when she left. You thought about reaching out to Jay, your fingers hovering just long enough to feel the weight of the choice. But doubt slipped in quietly. What if he thought less of you too? What if saying it out loud only pushed him further away? You didn’t have the answers and maybe, deep down, you weren’t sure you were ready to hear them from him.

You were sitting on the bleachers, the court empty aside from a few students lounging around the area, "why do I always find you as if you're in mid-philosophical mental breakdown?" You tilt your head upward, removing the headphones from your ears, "I don't know Heeseung, you tell me." You saw him playfully roll his eyes as he sat down next to you. Jay, Jake and Sunghoon join right after with Jay sitting on your other side, Jake and Sunghoon sitting in front of you. "Why are you guys here anyway? Don't you guys have practice or something?" Jake gasped, an offended expression forming on his face, "why do you hate us so much? Are we not cool enough to hang out with you?"

"Stop with that 'too cool for you to hangout with' joke, you're stretching it so far up it's gonna explode," Sunghoon laughed at your expressions, "I did not think of you as a violent type pretty." You opened your mouth to retaliate but nothing came out, you just looked at him, trying to ease the rapid beating of your heart after hearing him call you pretty. After the kiss, Sunghoon didn't pressure you to explain anything to him, didn’t even ignore you but he stopped calling you pretty, your own name sounding so foreign when it left his mouth, you thought with time you'd get used to it but there he was, once again with that silly smirk of his, calling you pretty.

"Oh how blessed do we have to be to find HYPHENIX sitting here!" All of your head turned towards the voice, the captain of the cheer team, Gyuri smiled, behind her stood Ava along with a few other members of the cheer squad. "We were just leaving," Jake announced, already standing up, "why would you do that? Ava, does your boyfriend's friend hate us?" She pouted, eyes trained on Jake who just rolled his eyes in annoyance, a complete 180° from how he teased you a few minutes ago. You wondered if both of them had any history, Sunghoon didn't even glance at them after initially looking to see who called their name, Heeseung pretended to be busy on his phone. "It's not like that Gyuri," Ava mumbled looking down.

Gyuri scoffed, crossing her arms across her chest, "It's Ava's birthday next week, I'm pretty sure I'll meet all of you there, right? It's going to be so much fun, everyone's going to be there." Jay nodded, not really looking towards Ava or even trying to have any sort of interaction with her, Gyuri noticed, she turned her head towards Ava, "did you two fight or something, you guys were fine just a few weeks ago!" Ava smiled awkwardly, making her way towards Jay, sitting beside him and leaning against his arm, "it's lovers quarrel, nothing we can't work upon." Gyuri looked at her skeptically before shrugging off and turning around and leaving.

Other three boys exchanged a look, clearly sensing the tension between Jay and Ava, they looked at you and you just smiled, clutching your notebook hard in your hands, they didn't press further. "What are you guys up to?" Ava questioned, her eyes trailing towards a few students who were looking in her direction as she sat with you and the boys, "nothing, just hanging around," Jake shrugged taking a seat. Eventually Ava sat awkwardly beside Sunghoon, and right in front of Jay after realizing he didn't tell his friends about them. She watched as Jay refused to acknowledge her presence at all and Jake and Heeseung exchanged glances at each other from time to time.

You were somehow also ignoring her presence, focusing on the reels on your phone rather than starting a conversation and Ava thinks it's maybe because she rudely left your apartment a week back and you haven't reached out to her after that. "You were going to send me a video of the recipe you saved to make that tea, you haven't sent it to me yet." Jay spoke, nudging your shoulder with his and you gave him an apologetic smile before copying the link of the video and sending it to him. Ava's eyes watched you both like a hawk, eyes narrowing at the newfound closeness in between you two. She gulped, feeling as if the perfect world she tried so hard to build was crumbling down the more she tried to save it.

"Oh shit, I forgot I had a seminar to attend, I should get going," you hurriedly zipped your bag and checked the time, cursing under your breath and running off towards the hall where the seminar would take place. "Oh she dropped her notebook," Sunghoon leaned down the grab the notebook which fell down from your lap, dusting it off, he opened the first page to look, "Give it to me, I'll pass it to her," Sunghoon turned his head towards Ava, eyes sharp and unmoving as he passed your notebook towards Jay instead. Ava sighed, eyebrows twitching at everyone's distant behavior, sure they took less liking for her somehow, even Heeseung and Jake, just acknowledged her as their bandmate's girlfriend but somehow each of them had soften themselves for you and she didn't like how you were getting more attention than she could.

"You're sure everything is alright between you two?" Gyuri questioned Ava as they stood in the locker room changing their clothes after finishing practicing, Ava gulped not maintaining eye contact with her caption as she hurried to put her things inside the bag, "you know you're only in the cheer squad because of Jay right? Since you bought so much attention towards our team after your whole secret admirer agenda?" Ava nodded, zipping up her bag, Gyuri held her shoulder, forcing Ava to face her, "try to mend things in between you both, if you were good enough with your talent alone, you wouldn’t have to enter the team through popularity, I hope you remember all the times you got rejected by different people from the team okay? But now that you finally made it into the team, try to maintain your spot."

"Yes, we are doing fine, Gyuri, we just need a little bit of space, that's it. Everything will go back to normal." Gyuri gave her a skeptical looks, not buying her reasoning at all, "you used to write all those letters to him which made him turn from icy to soft, he looked so smitten by you initially, I don't know what you did, but try to handle it properly, don't be a disappointment, I already get yelled at by our coach for allowing you in the team with the amount of mistakes you do, but I let him drag me since I know you bring attention to the team, don't do anything stupid to further taint my name, Ava." Ava sighed, leaning her head on the locker after Gyuri left. There was so much pressure on her head, she didn't know how she would even handle that.

Ava left the locker room, her feet dragging towards the main gate of the university. Her steps halted as she saw you standing few feet apart from her, you gaze trained on your phone as you sat on the stairs by the entrance of the university's building. She contemplated reaching out to you, her texts and calls left unattended since weeks, you wouldn't entertain her now, but this wasn't the time to whine over things like that, she needed your help to get out of the mess she had made, just like how you always did. Ava took a deep breath, deciding that apologizing to you and asking for your help would be the best case scenario for now, she could always deal with your attitude problem after this mess is solved. She took a step towards you but stopped when she spot Jay walking out of the music room, guitar case hanging off his shoulder and eyes turning ever so soft as they landed on you.

"I didn't think you'd still be here, your classes ended early today," He said, dropping his guitar case gently beside him, his voice casual but his eyes said otherwise. You hummed, smirking at him, "oh so you keep a tab on my schedule now?" Jay shrugged, smiling too wide for someone just having a casual conversation with a friend, "I need to look after you." You squint your eyes at him, elbowing his stomach, "I don't need anyone to look after me," Jay groaned as if your little nudge to his stomach actually hurt, "I know you don't need to be looked after, but I want to." He scooted closer to you, elbows pressing together, knees touching, you didn't move away. "Why do you always do that?" Jay questioned after sometime, "do what?" He reached up, tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear, thumb rubbing against your earlobe a little too long.

"You never properly hold eye contact with me." You blinked, caught off guard by his observation, Jay's gaze softened like he wanted to ask something more than that, you didn't notice the way Jay looked at you but Ava did. She stood there frozen, clutching her phone in her hand tightly, she noticed everything, the way Jay would always listen to your words attentively, how he had this soft smile on his face whenever he talked with you, how his eyes always found you despite being surrounded by a large crowd, Ava noticed everything. And as you packed your things and Jay snatched the bag from your hand and carried it on his shoulder instead, as you both walked off towards Jay's car blissfully unaware of Ava's presence, she realized, in that moment, that you weren't invisible anymore. And she hated it.

Your eyes were trained on the birthday invite sent by Ava on your phone. You both haven't talked with each other after she stormed out of your apartment, it wasn't the first time she did that, neither will it be the last time but you were done trying to save your friendship. You always apologize for things you didn't do just to protect your friendship but you couldn't let her do that repeatedly, you were done with her toxicity. But still your mind keeps on drifting towards how she'll manage to confess about her lying, if she'll be able to handle people throwing taunts at her. You didn't have to, but you felt bad for her. You looked at the following text she sent after sending the invite, 'I know we aren't on good terms but your presence would mean so much to me, especially for what I am going to do today, I will think of it as a last birthday gift from you.' You sighed, locking your phone and stood up to get ready for the party.

"Wow she really went all out for the party," Jake chuckled in amusement after he reached Ava's house, "I know right, I heard she invited more than half of the campus..." Heeseung trailed off, Sunghoon looked at Jay who had his jaw clenched as he looked at the scene in front of him, "you good bro?" Jay tore his eyes from the house and looked at Sunghoon, "It's weird, why would she invite so many people to a party where she's going to announce our breakup?" A loud gasp escaped Jake's mouth, "she's going to announce about your breakup?" Jay nodded looking at them, "she lied about those letters, they were never written by her."

"What? How did you even find that out?" Jay sighed watching his friends look at him with worried eyes, "I always felt disconnected from her, I started questioning her more about the letters but it would end up with us fighting and long story short, she confessed about her lies. I told her to tell everyone about her lies on her birthday when everyone will be present there and I will make sure no one will harass her over it and that we could part ways in peace after that." Heeseung nodded, still a bit shocked at how everything turned out, "if that's the case then it is indeed weird for her to go all out with the party."

"Let's just hope she isn't trying to pull any new stunts then," Sunghoon huffed looking at his friends, hands resting on his hips, "if she can steal someone else's identity for her greed, let's not think she is incapable of doing something mundane again." Rest of them nodded their heads, exchanging a look of wariness before making their way inside the house. Sunghoon stopped Jay from going away, one hand clutching his friend's shoulder, "Jay, I never got good vibes from Ava, don't let her get inside your head, be prepared for whatever okay? She's crazy enough. All you need is to look at me and I'll be there to help you." Jay smiled, nodding his head and assuring Sunghoon.

The party was in full swing, people were dancing around, some were already passed out on the couch, each corner of the house was crammed with people. The room smelled like sweat, alcohol and too many perfumes. Whenever you tried to move, your shoulders would brush against someone. The lights were dim but somehow harsh enough to make you squint. You had previously spotted Ava talking with her cheer squad, and called her aside to greet, give her the gift and go back into your apartment, but she stopped you, requesting you to wait since someone else called her name. Now you were standing beside the alcohol section, near the entrance of her house, waiting for an opportunity to find her alone and get done with it.

"Pretty," you didn't need to turn around to see who called you, his presence, his voice, the way you could feel his body heat on your back was enough for you to confirm who it was, "you're waiting for someone?" You nodded your head but didn't make any effort to change your position, eyes still trained on Ava who was now in the middle of celebrating her birthday. Jay stood beside her, his expressions hard as she cut her cake. She offered the piece of cake to Jay to which he just took it from her hand and fed her instead. The crowd cheered, their screams almost overpowering the music blasting through the speakers.

Then Ava signaled the DJ to pause the music, and the crowd quieted down, everyone gathered around Ava, who stood on the mini-stage along with Jay and some of her friends from the cheer team. Your heartbeat quickened but you felt a gentle squeeze on your shoulder, you looked up and Sunghoon gave you yet another squeeze of reassurance, you smiled at his gesture, a silent thank you, then you trained your eyes back on Ava, who was now looking at everyone with an anxious expression on her face as she announced she wanted to confess something to everyone. You swallowed, crossing your arms across your chest as you waited for her to continue. Jay stood beside her, eyes dark and intense but they softened slightly as he looked at you, your smile was enough to tell him you knew what was going to happen and he heaved a sigh, waiting for Ava to start speaking again.

"Thank you so much for attending my birthday and making it so much special for me," Ava smiled looking at everyone, "I am sure I won't be able to forget this birthday ever." Choruses of oohhs and aahhs spread all throughout the house, Ava shook her head, "I just want to confess something to you guys.....I've been holding it in for a while now." Everyone looked at each other, waiting for Ava to elaborate further, you watched as she looked back at Jay for a minute before her gaze turned back towards the crowd. You held your breath, anxious feelings creeping up on you as you waited for her to continue. "Everything is alright Ava?" Gyuri came forward, the rest of the crowd humming in agreement. She smiled at her, nodding her head, "I will be Gyuri." Sunghoon scoffed at her words as he leaned down towards you, "Oscar season came early huh?" You shivered as his breath hit your ears, a chuckle left his mouth watching her act.

"I feel like everyone deserves to know the truth about what's going on," you froze in your place when she stood beside Jay but her eyes locked in with yours. "The two people I trusted the most went behind my back," Ava's voice trembled as she looked at Jay, "he cheated on me," she exclaimed, pointing directly to you, "with her, my very own best friend." A ripple of gasp fluttered around the house, people glanced in your direction, whispering to each other low and biting. Tears welled up in your eyes, throat closing in, making it hard for you to defend yourself as you watched everyone look at you as if being in your vicinity made them impure.

"I trusted them, both of them but they intentionally chose to betray me like I was nothing." Your chest tightened as Ava continued her sob story of how you betrayed her, people around you started calling you names, whispers of you being a homewrecker, a whore, an attention seeking good for nothing slut, a nobody with a pretty best friend, a jealous bitch who couldn't watch her friend be happy. You shut your eyes, covering your ears with humiliation. "Avalyn!" Jay approached her, his tone dangerously even, "what the hell are you talking about?"

Sunghoon sighed as three of them made their way towards the stage where Ava and Jay were standing. Everyone's attention was fixed on the three band members who now stood at the foot of the stage as they watched the scene in front of them. Ava laughed bitterly, nose and cheeks red, and eyes glassy with unshed tears, "why are you acting innocent, I'm surely not the only one who noticed you pulling away from me, you didn't even sit next to me in cafeteria anymore, instead you were always around her, talking in whispers, about anything and everything, you think I wouldn't notice? You thought no one would believe the truth just because you're popular?"

"Oh I know you're not the one talking about popularity Ava!" All eyes turned towards Sunghoon who stepped up on the stage, eyes burning into Ava's, "you claimed to be the person who wrote those anonymous letters to Jay, you lied to everyone just so you could date Jay and get attention," everyone turned quiet, watching Sunghoon behave so rudely for the first time. Some of them turned towards you, trying to puzzle the pieces together. Jay stepped forward, grabbing Ava's arm to make her face him, "you lied to me, took advantage of someone else's words of love and used it for your selfish reasons and I pulled away from you when I caught your lie." Ava's eyes scanned everyone's face, lips trembling as she could feel everyone doubting her words, then her eyes fell upon you, her eyes darkening with anger, again.

"You're just deflecting because I caught you cheating!" She yanked her arm off his grasp, stepping back a little, "no! I'm clearing my name, if I was someone who treated relationships as casual, I would've dated countless girls and not waited for the right one!" The crowd started murmuring, words of agreement spread throughout as they realized the honesty Jay's words held, they never saw him entertain any girls before. Ava's breathing grows uneven when the room remains silent, no sympathy in their eyes, just observing, watching the drama unfold. "Are you done with your lies now? I told you we could part ways peacefully if you just confess about lying and come clean but you decided to drag me and your best friend through the mud just so you could have an upper hand."

Ava stepped closer to him, voice low but filled with venom, "you're really painting me as a villain because I claimed something that wasn't mine?" Jay stood there, his posture stiff and jaw clenched as Ava wasn't giving up, "you lied, Ava." She scoffed, tears clinging to her lashes, "but you believed me without a second thought Jay, and you believed me because you were desperate to be loved and I did just that, so how am I the villain?" You stepped back, unable to keep yourself together, the room felt too suffocating, you turned around towards the door trying to get out of the situation, to where? You didn't know, you just needed to get out of there. People watched as she spiraled more and more, concern spreading throughout the room, "and don't defend her like she needs to be saved," her voice lowered enough only Jay could hear, "she knew."

Slow smirk forming on her face, "She knew the whole truth but she chose to stay quiet." Jay froze, heart stopping at the cruel revelation, "you're lying..." but the look on Ava's face was enough for Jay to realize she wasn't lying this time. "She knew from the beginning, she watched me take the credit for those letters, watched you fall for them, and still chose to say nothing. So how are we different now?" Jay's eyes scan your figure amongst the crowd, like looking for you would give him some answers. Jay could barely hear a word coming from Ava's mouth, he felt his chest tightened, with disappointment? Betrayal? Or something else entirely? He wasn't sure.

Sunghoon leaned closer to Jay, informing him about you leaving the house. He pushed Jay down the stage so he would follow you. It took some time for him to snap out of everything and his feet started moving before his mind could catch up. Ava stood still, eyes trained on the way the crowd watched Jay run towards the door. Ava's figure trembled with anger, but underneath all the fury there was fear. Because she could see the closeness you and Jay shared couldn't be erased, not even now, now even after her lies were laid bare in front of everyone. Her feet moved, she couldn't let this moment be the one responsible for her downfall, Sunghoon grabbed her hand, pulling her back harshly, "we aren't done with you Ava," He looked back, Jake and Heeseung joining him as they cornered Ava, "can’t really let you walk away without leaving a scar for what you did to our best friend, now can we?"

Sunghoon turned towards the door, watching Jay run off towards the direction he gave him, Jay stopped when he reached the door, turning around to find himself locking eyes with Sunghoon who was holding Ava back from following him. Jay waited for him to say something, but Sunghoon just smiled, nodding his head at Jay and ushering him to follow you. Jay's lips trembled but he nodded back, turning around with newfound determination to find you. He walked down the stairs, looking around to see if he could catch a single glimpse of you, he ran his fingers through his hair, messing up the neat style he previously did. He swallowed hard, taking deep breaths, when he spotted something sparkling around the corner of the block. He ran towards that direction, praying and hoping you'd still be there.

You were walking down the sidewalk, mind too clouded and eyes too hazy to hear footsteps edging closer. You felt someone grab your hand and yank you back, then you heard the faintest whisper of your name, the voice slightly laboured, out of breath. A shiver ran down your spine at the sight of him, not expecting him to follow you out, you wanted to say something, anything but the look in his eyes, the way his lips trembled as he looked at you, the way his jaw was clenched as if he was holding something back, stopped you to saying anything further. For a moment he just looked at you, at your reddened eyes and tears stricken face but all it did was take him back a few moments ago when Ava told him the truth.

"You knew," he stated, his voice low and laced with something too broken to name, "Avalyn told me you knew she didn't write those letter, and you never told me..." your heart cracked at the slight crack in his voice as he talked, you opened your mouth but no words came out. He removed his hand from you, stepping closer till your toes touch, "all this time," he laughed bitterly, blinking a couple of times to wash away the tears that threatened to fall, "you watched me believe her, fall for a fake version of her, I trusted her, I trusted you, you're the only person with whom I shared the struggles of my relationship with, about how the letters made me feel seen, about how your best friend wasn't living up to it and you just let me?"

His words cut through you like a knife, you swallowed hard, throat dry, "it wasn't my place-" "wasn't your place?" He spat, eyes burning with betrayal and underlying heartbreak, "I thought you were my friend." Your head hung low, tears slipping down your cheeks, ashamed that you let everything spiral to this, "I'm your friend," your voice cracked, hands clenching into fist, you couldn't bring yourself to look at Jay, too guilty to feel worthy enough to do so. He shook his head as he watched you trembling in front of him, his hands itched to just pull you closer and hug you till it all started making sense. But he just shook his head instead.

The silence stretched for too long, none of you moved, your mind was swirling with hundreds of reasons you could give in order to justify your actions to him but none of them felt worthy enough to say out loud. Jay's hand trembled as they cupped your face, he placed his thumbs below your chin to tilt your face upward, "do you know how humiliating it was to find out that the entire foundation of my relationship was fake? That the girl who confessed about writing letters to me just played with my heart to get a few people to glance her way?" He wiped away the tears that fell down your cheeks, and leaned his forehead against yours, "and you? You let me believe in all of those things, you watched me make a fool of myself and didn't feel I'm worthy enough to know the truth."

Your breath hitched, hands reaching up to curl around his jacket to ground yourself, "I didn't want to hurt you Jay." He brushed his nose against you then stepped back, eyes red, hair disheveled as he narrowed his eyes at you, "isn't it too late to say that?" You closed your eyes as a choked sob escaped from your mouth, you couldn't even look at him without feeling the need to rip your heart apart. He was hurting, and he was hurting because of you. He studied you for a moment, even though every fibre of his body told him to just reach out to you, he took another step back, "I just," he ran his hand through his hair, visibly overwhelmed, "I don't know who I can trust anymore."

You opened your eyes at his words, "Jay," you started but he backed away even though you stayed glued in your spot, "wait here. Sunghoon will come and drop you off." And you watched him turn around and walk back towards Ava's house. You could see the weight of the betrayal, the disappointment, the truth weighing on his shoulders as he walked away and you stood there, watching the boy you love unraveling and breaking right in front of you. After a while, Sunghoon's car pulled up beside you and he got off, running towards where you stood, your arms circled around his waist, tears streaming down your face and sipping into his shirt. He held you close, rubbing your back to console you. The drive towards your apartment was silent, he glanced at you from time to time to check if you were doing fine. You bid him goodbye, assuring him that you'll call him if it felt too suffocating. He kissed your forehead, and pulled out of your building.

Jay was laid wide awake in his bedroom, still wearing the same clothes from the party, now slightly crumpled and disheveled. He blinked at the ceilings, recalling back to everything that led him to this moment. It felt surreal, the anonymous letters, the lie, the hope he had, the connection he shared with you, your lie, and the moment it all crashed down. He rubbed his face, groaning in his hands for being so stupid, he blamed himself for not verifying Ava's claim, for trusting her blindly. He wondered how his life would've been if he never received those letters, if he never let himself believe that someone was out there loving him the way he didn't know he needed. Maybe he got selfish after reading those letters.

He wondered how the person who originally wrote the letters must've felt after learning Ava claimed the letters as hers, about why that person never came forward to expose her lie, then his thoughts drifted to you. He still remembered the way his heart dropped when Ava told him you knew the truth all along, how even after knowing you deliberately chose to lie his heart still ached for you. How watching you crying in front of him felt like thousands of glass pieces pierced his skin, all at once. How one teary look from your eyes was enough for him to get on his knees for you. And it all confused him to no extent, he was sure he loved the person who wrote him the letters and he knew there was no one else who could see him the way they did, or make him feel the way their words did.

But now here he was, drowning in your thoughts, realization dawning upon him that even if you somehow decided to stab him with a knife, he would happily help you by placing it in the middle of his heart. That he somehow managed to fall in love with you so hard that he isn't sure what to do with his feelings. He knew he should've told you off, called you a liar, broken ties with you just like he did with Ava, because you were her best friend and you took part in her lies, that should've been the case but it wasn't. Instead, he just found himself looking for you amidst the crowd, his heart pounding and he ran off to find you, how his heart clenched at the sight of your trembling form and how relieved he felt after knowing you were safe.

He sighed, sitting up straight and switching on the lights of his room. He had been trying to sleep but he couldn't with all these thoughts running in his mind. His eyes wandered around his room as he grabbed the glass of water from his nightstand and drank it. He stopped when his eyes landed on the notebook neatly placed on his desk, your notebook, which you dropped as you rushed to attend the seminar. Despite his better judgement, his steps carried him towards his desk anyway. He picked up the notebook, fingers tracing the stem of the book, smiling softly at the little heart you drew at the corner of the cover page. He traced the heart with his thumb as if to picture you doodling it while you were thinking about something.

There wasn't a single thought behind his eyes when he opened your notebook, no suspicion, no curiosity, just a causal reach, a familiar motion which one does when they have a book in their hand. He didn't mean to see anything inside the book, but the second the pages parted and his eyes caught the words written inside, something shifted, like his heart recognized something his mind was yet to figure out. His fingers stilled against the paper, breath hitching as he looked at the pages, turning over a few more, just in case. He stumbled a bit, like the floor beneath his feet decided to slip off, and fell on his bed, he exhaled a deep breath, eyes trained on the book and your handwriting staring back at him, achingly familiar, too familiar and it hurt.

His fingers hovered over the ink, as if he felt the words would vanish if he touched them carelessly. But they didn't, they stayed, etched in the unmistakable way you write your words, the same pauses, the same rhythm. He flipped open the last page of the book and his throat tightened as he read a few lines that were scribbled recklessly, the handwriting a bit messy as if you wanted to hold onto the words before they disappeared from your head. Lines he recognized instantly, the one he knew he had read before, not in your notebook but in one of the letters that are neatly tucked inside the box. He grabbed the box and searched for the letters where you wrote those exact same lines dedicated to him. Keeping them side by side.

'I think you look the best as the sun sets, the sun's rays kissing your face in a gentle goodbye. Even the ground beneath you looks beautiful coated in your silhouette, and I wonder if I'll ever be able to stop seeing that version of you when I close my eyes.' He remembered those lines, he remembered how you wrote that you watched him enter the campus with his bandmates as he laughed at something his friends said, how you watched him till he disappeared from your sight from the library's crooked window, how you couldn't help but feel overwhelmed by how beautiful he looked and how deeply you were falling for him. His hands trembled as he clutched the notebook in his hands and made his way towards his car, towards you. He couldn't wait till next morning to talk to you, not after everything you both have been through, not after all the wait and longing.

You were sitting on your couch, hands in your hair, regretting everything that led you to this moment. All you wanted was to express your love for a person who helped you when you were at your lowest, a quiet support to let him know he wasn't alone. You still recalled writing him your first letter after you heard his parents berate him for choosing a musical career instead of their family business, they way his shoulders slumped, how hurt embraced him like an old friend. All you wanted was to let him know that he's loved, he's seen, and that his struggles aren't invisible. And maybe you did reach your goal, made him feel all the things you intended on making him feel but then everything shattered, like a twisted fairytale. And here you were, replaying it all, wishing you'd never sent those letters to him to spare him from the hurt that now made home in his eyes.

You wiped the tears that streamed down your cheeks, they seemed to be never ending, you'd sit for a while, blankly staring at nothing in particular then a sudden wave of emotions would dawn on you and tears would well up. You didn't try to stop them, didn't try to think of something that would numb all the pain. You deserved it, after all you had chosen to side with Ava instead of correcting her mistakes, so you let yourself feel, let yourself cry, let yourself hurt. You stood up, deciding to let sleep distract you from your feelings for a few hours would be a good option, you didn't want to bother Sunghoon with your feelings, he already did so much for you.

You turned around towards your bedroom, stopping mid-step as the echo of your doorbell bounced off your apartment walls. You frowned, wondering who would be visiting you at this hour. Still, you made your way towards the door, and opened it without a second thought, Jay stood in front of you, breathless, eyes red, then your eyes fell upon something he was holding tight in his hand. A notebook, yours to be specific. He didn't say anything right away, just stared at you as your brain pieced together the puzzle. You tilted your head upward, heart racing as you looked at him when a voice at the back of your head chimed in, he knows.

You weren't sure what to expect now that your secret has been revealed, you didn't not expect to see him again so soon, especially not with your notebook clutched in his hand at least. He walked towards you, and you wordlessly backed away to give him space, he hesitated before reluctantly stepping forward and keeping the book on the table by your entrance, "you left this behind," he mumbled, looking towards the notebook and not you, his voice hoarse as if it had been scratched. Then he turned towards you, stepping forward till there was no space left for you to go, "I read it." You swallowed, heart thundering inside your chest, "why did you? It was you....all this time....you." You inhaled sharply, mind racing with countless of things you could say to make this situation less messy and complicated than it had become, but before you could speak, he closed the distance, almost desperately, almost as if staying one second away from you was eating him up alive.

His lips met yours, not softly, not hesitantly. His fingers tangled in your hair, another one snaking around your waist to pull you close. Your hands found home on his shoulders, gasping at the sheer shock of it all. He kissed you like it was his elixir, the only thing that made the ache in his heart subsidize for a while. The kiss was everything, pain, longing, anger, love, all wrapped into one reckless moment of affection. He pulled back enough for both of you to breathe the air but not far enough that you'd miss his touch. His hand was still tangled in your hair, he gave it a gentle tug to tilt your head towards him, "I'm so fucking mad at you," his lips brushed against yours as he uttered those words, low and seething, "but I've never wanted anything else more than this."

He stepped back while you were still frozen in one place, his kiss lingering on your lips like a confession and goodbye at the same time. You opened your eyes, your breathing shallow, a little bit shaky as you watched him pace around your living room. You hesitated reaching out for him, like if you moved quickly the moment would shatter and vanish like it never happened in the first place. "Jay," you started, softly this time, fearing he would stop you yet again and leave you hanging, when he didn't, you took it as a sign to continue, "I never meant for you to know it's me." He stopped, his back turned towards you, "but I needed to..." turning around and stepping closer to you, "I needed to know it was you." Your lips trembled, you looked down to prevent him from watching you break yet again.

His hand reached up to cup your face, other reaching forward to hold your hand, "I was so angry," he breathed, leaning his forehead on yours, "At Ava, at you, at myself. I thought maybe all of it was just a fragment of my imagination, that none of this was real." You blinked, nodding your head, unsure of whether this is where he leaves or forgives you, "but then I saw this notebook, your handwriting, and I knew it was real, that you are real." Tears pricked your eyes but you blinked them back. "Why didn't you tell me?" He questioned, his nose brushing against yours, "I didn't tell you because I never thought you'd ever see me that way."

He kissed away the tears that managed to escape your eyes, your heart swelling with emotions at the softness of his actions, "don't say that, you don't get to decide how I feel about you, about us." He kissed your forehead, staying there for a beat or two, "I was looking for someone who was by my side the whole time, who made me feel seen, yet I was blind enough to never recognize the calm I felt in your presence was so achingly familiar."

"I never planned on coming out of the shadows, Jay. I just wanted to love you from afar, because I felt someone like me would never be able to keep up with someone like you. But Ava changed everything and I couldn't do anything about it. I tried warning her, but you looked so happy when she confessed that I couldn’t bring myself to tell the truth." You choked a sob, leaning your head on his shoulder as you cried. He held you close, kissing your head as he tried to blink back his own tears. "I fell in love with your words first, but it was your presence that made me fall deeper." And then without another word, he pulled you in for another kiss, soft and slow before it turned into something hungrier and needy.

"You said you weren't sure if I wanted you right?" He mumbled, not breaking the kiss, he pushed you towards your bedroom, a soft gasp leaving your lips at the abrupt movement, he took it as an opportunity to ease his tongue in your mouth, exploring, carving and claiming every corner of you as his, "let me show you how much I want you." His kisses trailed down from your mouth, to your jaw, his hand tilting your head slightly to pepper kisses down your throat. Your hand clutched his shirt, other sliding up from his chest to the nape of his neck and pulling his hair lightly. He groaned against your neck, sending shivers down your spine, his tongue lapping at your sweet spot. You moaned, he took it as a sign to suck on the same spot till a mark bloomed on it.

He pulled away, your body trembling as the air hit the spot where he licked. "You want me to show you?" He whispered, giving you a chance to back out if this isn't what you wanted, you gulped, taking a step closer, lips hovering above his, just enough, enough to drive him crazy with the distance, enough to have him begging for more, "yes," you sighed against his lips before grabbing his collar and pulling him down for another kiss. His hands travelled down from your neck, to your waist and finally they settled down low on your hips, pulling you closer so you could feel his hardening length against your thigh. You bit his bottom lip in response, which pulled a hiss from his mouth, hands tightening around your hips like he didn't want you to stop.

You felt his hand knead on the skin at the swell of your ass, your hands curling around his neck to bring him closer. He tapped your thigh, once, twice while leaning down and you took it as a sign to jump as he gave you support and carried you. Your legs wrapped around his waist and he pushed your body against the wall. He pulled away from the kiss, a string of saliva connecting your lips making him moan. He looked at you with a heavy, drunk in euphoria stare, a lopsided smile adorning his face as he took in your form, breathing heavily, cheeks flushed, hair messy and swollen lips. He decided it was one of his favorite looks.

His hand slid up from your waist, to your chest, stopping briefly to see you whimper before it reached your neck. He curled his finger around your neck, giving it a firm squeeze and you whined, throwing your head back, legs instinctively tightening around his hips. He smirked, leaning closer, "I need you to use your voice for me, butterfly. You think you could do that for me?" You nodded your head, aroused by the intensity of it all. He gave your neck another squeeze, a bit more firm, like a warning, "use your words, butterfly." You moaned, eyes rolling back, "yes." He smiled, releasing his hold from your neck and giving your neck a gentle kiss, "good girl."

Your hands that rested on his shoulders, rose up to cradle his face as he continued to lick, suck and bite your neck. You tilted his head, reconnecting your lips with his as if you couldn't just get enough of it. He groaned, one hand sliding at the nape of your neck to deepen the kiss and the other pressing into the skin of your arm, squeezing the flesh to anchor himself. He traced his tongue on your lips, before capturing your lips again, biting at the skin, silently asking you to let him in. His fingers then pulled at the hem of your top, tugging at it impatiently, you broke off the kiss, pulling the top over your head and throwing it somewhere in the room. His pupils dilated, hunger creeping in as he looked at you like he had been starving.

You swallowed hard, for the first time in your life you were watching someone unravel because of you without even doing anything wild. His ragged breath made you bold, you ran your fingers through his scalp before grabbing a fistful of hair and tugging it. He moaned, his lips attaching to the unmarked area of your chest, his hands sliding up and stopping just below the swell of your breast, "is this okay butterfly? Can I touch you here?" You whined, arching your chest, needy for his touch, "please," you whispered, almost as if it physically pained you because he wasn't touching you and he sighed, biting his lips and reaching up to squeeze your boobs.

"Let me take this off," His hands found the clasp of your bra, detaching it in one swift motion, he pulled the bra off of you and threw it down. Your eyes widened, low-key impressed by his 'bra-removing-expertise' but your train of thoughts broke off just as you felt his lips on your nipple, he liked it, then blew air on it, sending shiver throughout your body, his hand softly massaging the other one. You closed your eyes, leaning your head against the wall as he switched between both of your boobs, heat pooling between your legs, begging for attention. He took his time with your boobs, relishing at the sound of your soft sighs. He licked up your neck, placing a slow kiss on it, you grind your hips against his, a groan ripping out of his throat at the sudden sensation. His hands supported your back as he turned around and walked towards the bed, gently laying you down.

He stood at the foot of the bed, his eyes roaming on your half-naked self, he climbed up, gulping at the sight before him, "so beautiful." Your hands instinctively cross over your chest, frown appearing on his face at your actions, "don't be embarrassed, it's just me." He hovered over you, hands on your side, he removed your arms from your chest, dipping his head low and placing gentle kisses all over your chest, mumbling sweet nothings in between. Your hands fists the sheets, as he moved lower, his eyes trained on the way your expression changed with every movement of his. He stopped as he reached near the waistband of your shorts, sucking and marking the area around your hips. Your breath shuddered, eyes closing.

"Are you sure you want to do this?" Your body relaxed as you felt Jay's voice vibrate through the skin of your stomach, you looked at him, hands on both sides of your hips as he found home in between your legs, chin propped up on your stomach, pupil blown wide as he waited for your answer. You ran your fingers through his hair, a small smile gracing your lips before the heat in between your legs became too much to handle, "yes, love." He got up, sitting on his knees as he started removing his shirt. You reached up, rising slightly to help him, eager to have him close. He threw his shirt somewhere near the bed, you sat up, trailing kisses from his torso to his chest. He tangled his fingers on your hair, not pulling, just holding. His eyes met with your lust filled one and you bit on his nipple, then placed a kiss, he moaned, loud enough that he surprised himself, and he pushed you back on the bed, connecting his lips back to yours.

His hands travelled down your body, squeezing, gripping, tracing, the skin beneath his hands, "you're so soft, butterfly." His fingers dig inside the waistband of your shorts, your breath hitched in anticipation, he looked at you once before he pulled both your shorts and panties off of you, together, in one swift motion. You tried closing your legs, the air around you feeling cool against the slick in between your folds. "You're dripping butterfly, all this for me?" He dipped down, fingers separating your folds to get a better look at your dripping hole, you whined, clenching around nothing as his words went straight into your core. His breath fanning against your folds, he slid up two of his fingers on your slit, your hips jolting with surprise, legs shaking.

He kept an eye on your face, in case you felt uncomfortable, he rubbed your clit in small circles, your legs digging in the bed, back arching. Your hand gripped his shoulder, the other one holding the wrist of his hand which was making you see stars. "I'll be putting a finger in love," he waited for your reply then carefully inserted his middle finger inside your hole, you gasped, lead lifting off the pillow, his head dipped down, capturing your lips in his to help you get distracted. He started moving his finger when you let out a strained whine, his movements slow and steady as he waited for your body to adjust to the feeling. "So good, Jay." He smiled at your words, carefully inserting his index finger and curling them inside you to test out the waters.

"Jay," you moaned, eyes rolling back, he continued his movements, increasing his pace, he could feel your walls clenching around his fingers, "damn love, you're doing so good for me." Your chest rose and fell, heart racing, mind filled with pleasure, you could feel a knot forming in your stomach, "Jay, I think- I think I'm gonna cum," Jay smiled at you, already feeling your release close before you even said anything, "yeah? Cum all over my fingers butterfly, make a mess." You nodded, brows furrowing at the overwhelming feeling, "shit, Jay don't stop," your breath shuttered, pleasure washing over you. Jay's movements slowed down, his eyes trained on the way your juices coated his fingers, his head dipped down, licking a long strip on your pussy, your hands flew onto his head, pulling at his hair at the sudden action.

His fingers gain their pacing again, as his tongue works on your clit, "Jay, it's too much, I can't." He groans when he feels you pull at his hair, "you can do it love, give me another one please." He laps at your pussy, eating it like it's his last meal, his hips slightly rut against the bed, aching to get some friction, you bite your lips, trying to supress your moans with how good he's making you feel and it's not long before you come undone again. He removed his fingers from your pussy and you whined at the empty feeling, you watched as he looked at you before putting his fingers at his mouth and licking them clean. His hands then spread your legs wider, tongue darting out to lick you clean. You shiver, legs closing around his head, feeling overstimulated after cumming twice, he laps at your pussy, smiling at you when he's done.

You pull the waistband of his jeans, a little impatient but eager to help him with his needs, "take it off." He chuckled at your needy tone as he removed his jeans and boxer, his hardened lock slapping against his abs. You gulped, mouth salivating at the sight, he looked so gorgeous as he kneeled before you, eyes closing momentarily as he stroked himself lightly, spreading his precum on his length. He climbed over you, his cock slapping against your thigh. He sighed, wiping the sweat dripping off your forehead and removing the hair sticking on your face. "So beautiful, could eat you out for hours, butterfly, you taste so good." You flush at his words, slapping his chest lightly, he laughed, leaning up to place a chaste kiss on your forehead.

He rubbed his cock against your fold to gather you slick, his hands placed on either side of your head, one of your hands held his shoulder while the other ran through his hair. He kissed you, gentle and soft as he lined himself up in your entrance, your breath hitched at the mere contact, legs tightening beside his waist, he groaned against the kiss, his hand sliding down to keep your legs open wide as he pushed himself in you, slow and steady. You hissed, feeling his tip enter your dripping cunt, he kissed you all throughout, mumbling words of encouragement and praises in between as he slowly bottomed out inside you. "Fuck butterfly, you're so fucking tight around me, it's like you're sucking me in, love."

You whimpered, feeling full, he looked at you, showering kisses across your face till you adjusted to his size so he could move. "Tell me when you'll be ready, okay love? Take your time." You nodded your head, kissing and marking his neck to distract yourself from momentary pain, his neck chain shining, against your face, "please move, Jay, fuck." He gave you a peck before pulling out of your pussy all the way, then sliding back in, in one swift motion. Your back arched, as a strangled moan left your lips. His hands trembled just hearing you moan right next to his ears. The sounds are going straight in his cock.

He pulled out, only to thrust back in, slow and deep, his eyesbrows furrowed as he tried his best not to lose control and fuck you senseless. You moaned, your walls clenching around his length, his chain hitting your face in the same rhythm his hips snapped against yours. "Faster, please." He leaned his head on yours, his movements steady as he smirked at you, "you want it faster my love?" You nodded frantically, and he bit your lip as he adjusted himself to increase his pace. He started slamming his length into you faster, and harder and with the way your walls were trying to suck him into you, he knew you were close. One of his hands slid down your body to rub circles around your clit to heighten your pleasure.

"Ah fuck, Jay!" He smirked as you held onto him like your life depended on it, "you're taking me so well baby, this pussy," he groaned, hand never stopping their movement on your clit, "made for me." You whined, nails digging on his shoulders, his chain repeatedly hitting your face, you frowned tilting your head up and parted your lips, and as the chain hit your face again, you trapped it between your teeth, Jay froze at he felt a abrupt tug on his neck, looking down towards you he breathed out a pained sigh, completely unraveling. His hips recovered their pace, hips slamming against yours. You released the chain and he dipped his head to suck your nipple.

"Fuck, Jay, I'm close so close," He released your nipple only to focus on the other one, "me too, I'm close too butterfly, cum with me, cover me with your juices, love, fuck." His movements became sloppy, losing the rhythm as he fucked you recklessly, you moaned one last time as your orgasm washed over you, he rode you through your high before spilling his seeds inside of you, long spruts if cum dripping out of his cock, you whined feeling the heat of his cum spilling inside if you. "I love you," you opened your eyes to see smiling down at you, the soft glow of your bedroom light framed him in gold, casting a quiet halo around his body, he chuckled lightly, wiping the tear that escaped your eyes without even you knowing, your lips trembled, "I love you too."

He closed his eyes, dropping his weight on you as he hugged you close, burying his face on your neck, still buried deep inside you. You hugged his shoulders, massaging his scalp as both of you regained your breath. "Come one, let me clean you up so we can sleep." You whined at his words and he chuckled, scooping you in his arms instead and took you inside the bathroom to clean you and himself up. You shuddered as he cleaned your pussy, feeling overstimulated and sore. He mumbled quick apologies, cleaning himself up, changing the sheets and climbing up on the bed with you to finally sleep.

The hallway is empty, save for a few students who are scattered across in little groups, you're sitting inside the empty classroom, gathering your belongings as you texted Jay that you'll be heading to his house soon. A small smile gracing up on your face at the mere thought of spending time with him. You're so busy with yourself that you don't hear her approach you. But the moment a pair of heels come into view, you glance up and Ava is already looking down at you, standing in front of you like she had been searching for you all day. Her eyes are red, almost as if she had been crying all week, her perfect hair frying at the edges, but it's her eyes, raw, wild and angry, you stand up.

"You're such a great actress," she says, low and seething as she looked at you, "you wrote those letters and let me play the role of a fool as I claimed to be the one who wrote your letters. You let me be the thief." You opened your mouth but she cut you off, stepping forward, every movement sharp with fury, "was this your ultimate plan? To humiliate me? Let me take the fall so you could step on me and reclaim the spot as yours?" Your eyebrow twitched, words flying off of your mind at her accusations, "No!" You sharply declined, stepping towards her instead of backing away like you always did, "you don't get to play the victim here Ava, you did this all upon yourself. Yes I wrote those letters, yes I let you claim it as yours but I did it for Jay."

You stood tall, having enough of her tantrums and manipulation, "I did it because he looked so happy when I saw him with you. You didn't ask me when you claimed those letters as yours, I even warned you but you are so selfish, you only think about yourself." She laughed, eyes squinting, "you let me live in the spotlight while you sat there watching me like some pathetic loser, what does that make me now?" Her voice crumbled, not from pain but from fury, "nothing, that's what I am now! I lost Jay, I lost my spotlight, I lost....you. and you were supposed to be someone who would never leave." Your heart broke watching her breakdown in front of you but you knew better.

"You were mine, my best friend, my shadow. You weren't supposed to overtake me, you were supposed to stay behind me!" She stepped closer, but you stepped back, she froze, realization hitting her on the face that the power she once had on you is over now. "You don't complain when you make your own plate, Ava. I warned you but you never listened. I stayed with you even when I knew you were using me to satisfy your ego, I thought you'd change but no, you don't care about anyone else but you and your image, and now that you've lost it, you're trying to manipulate me into thinking I was at fault. You wouldn't be in this situation if you never lied." She laughed, "wow, you really are the cruel one," she whispered. She stepped back, her heels echoing off the empty classroom and she left. And you were left standing there, watching her go out of your classroom and your life.

"Yeah yeah, I'll be there soon," Jay replied to Heeseung while packing his things inside his bag. He was currently in the music room of the university while everyone else was waiting for him to join them at a hangout spot they usually go to, the bridge that overlooks a river. He hung up the phone, his screen blinking with Heeseung's contact photo. He shook his head, locking his screen and continuing with his actions. He looked around to check if he forgot anything when he noticed he left his music book on the table, he grabbed the book hurriedly before placing it inside his bag.

An envelope fell down from his book due to his frantic movements and he stopped, crouching down to pick it up. His chest fluttered when he opened it, a handwriting which he had seen countless times appearing in front of his eyes, he smiled in amusement, wondering when you put this letter inside his book. He opened the letter anyway, deciding that waiting till the day was over would be too much for his curious heart.

My Jay,

If you look into my eyes, you'll find me thanking the heavens for blessing you in my life, smiling at the thought that I was lucky to have you, thinking about how I ended up with you.

If you look into my eyes, you'll find me looking for you everywhere I go, trying to trace your face amongst the crowd, yearning for being in your presence.

If you look into my eyes, amidst all the lingering eyes and subtle glances, you'll find me staring at you, watching you giggle, and when I get caught, I look away hiding my blush.

If you look into my eyes, you'll see how much your presence affects me, wanting to be the center of your universe. If I could, I would spend eternity with you.

If you look into my eyes, you'll find me clutching onto our dreams, a bit insecure about our future, still determined to take the tempting risk.

If you look into my eyes, you'll find how deeply I'm into you, so much so to the point I sometimes scare myself, thinking about how hard life would be without you.

If you look into my eyes, you'll find me standing by the river, gently letting the wind engulf my heart, looking at you longingly as you try your best not to fall.

If you look into my eyes, you'll see a tired soul, just wanting to love and to be loved, wondering if you feel it the way I do.

If you look into my eyes, you'll feel the love that pours out of me, just look up and stare directly at my eyes, you'll find me clutching at our dreams.

If you look into my eyes, you'll find yourself.

Yours,

Butterfly.

PS: I know you're wondering when I put this letter inside, but you'd never know, I'm kind of very good at this whole secret admirer agenda. Don't expect anything else, just because I'm dating you doesn't mean these letters will stop. I'm very much in love with you, but there are still some moments where I'm too shy to say what I want to say, but I need you to know how much I love you, so these letters are my armour. I wrote this for you recently, and I wanted you to read that!

He smiled, feeling warmth spread all throughout him as he folded the letter and put it inside the envelope, making a mental note to keep it inside the box when he reached back home. He sighed, content at how things have turned out. He still had a long way to go with his parents but you were by his side now, so he was glad he wouldn't have to face it alone. He felt at peace with you, never felt the need to say much. He was zoned out, drowning in his thoughts when his phone rang again, he snapped out of his thoughts, answering Heeseung's calls, "I'm done bro, I was just leaving."

"How many fingers can you see?" You glared at Jake, who currently stood beside you holding up 4 fingers in front of your face, "four," you muttered through gritted teeth, you could hear Heeseung chuckle from behind you, which annoyed you more. You put your glasses back, shoving Jake's shoulders. "You can see, why do you need glasses," you rubbed your temple, sighing in disappointment, "I'm not THAT blind, I just need them to see more clearly, stupid." Jake looked at you like you had just committed a crime against his dignity, "woah, did you just call me stupid? After all the love and affection I shower you with?" He placed a hand on his heart, staggering back a step, "me? The one who puts up with you squinting at traffic lights?"

Your mouth fell open at his words, you lurched forward, attempting to grab his precious hair as he didn't seem to back down from his teasing you. Heeseung laughed at both of you, clutching his stomach, beside him Sunghoon just shook his head, an amused smile plastered on his face as he stepped forward to separate Jake from your fury. "See, and you wonder why I call her trouble!" You stuck your tongue out at Jake, who was trying to make his hair more presentable after you messed it, trying to win an argument like a five year old, which worked somehow because Jake whined, clearly more irritated.

Jake gave you a side eye before turning around dramatically and walked off, joining Heeseung and complaining about how mean you are and how you never seem to return the love he showers you with, and how he feels that his best friend's agenda is one sided and you never considered him as such. You laughed at him, and he threw you an annoyed glance. You heard Sunghoon clear his throat from behind you and you turned around, standing beside him, overlooking the river as both of you leaned against the railing. "You know," you turned your head in his direction, but he wasn't looking at you, instead focusing his eyes on the view in front of him, "you used to make my heart race, at some time." You saw him swallow, a soft smile adorning his face, your heart skipped a beat, but you still hummed in response, "now you make me question your maturity level on a daily basis."

You gasped in mock offense, turning your head back at the river flowing gently in front of you, "excuse you, I just reciprocate the energy people give me." He chuckled, his fang-like teeth making an appearance, "whatever helps you sleep at night pretty." You pout at his words, bumping your shoulder with his playfully, he bumps back, just enough to make you slightly wobble on your spot. "Hey! I could've fallen," you whined, holding onto the railing tightly as if he would try to bump into you again, "don't worry, I would have fallen with you before letting you do it alone." You felt your heart tightened at his words but when you looked at him, you could see a teasing glint in his eyes, like he knew those words would make you stumble a bit.

You shook your head, smiling softly at his words, "see I don't doubt your words but I was hoping you'd just pull me back instead of falling with me." He chuckled at your words, ruffling your hair before retracting his hand back. "I'm glad it's you," He mumbled after sometime, "with Jay, I mean." He was already looking at you when you turned your head towards him, the wind messing his hair. You smiled, feeling warmth spread over you, "and I'm glad, you are still beside me." He nodded, tearing his eyes away from you, "I know....I think I'm exactly where I am supposed to be." You gulped, still looking at his face, you could see he wanted to say something more, so you just nudged his shoulder and arched your eyebrows at him.

It got quiet for a second, wind flowing through your hair as you stood with him in silence yet it was enough, for you both, it would always be enough, "I think some part of me loved you even before I realized it, you're good, a steady kind of good, the type where I know I could lean on you and never have to worry about falling apart." You nodded, biting your lips at his sudden confession, "and I loved you, not in the way like I love Jay, but something just as real, something I still do." His smile turned a little melancholic but still held the same warmth nonetheless, "I'm glad at the way things turned out, that you got Jay just how you wanted, it pained me to watch him be with Ava, second guessing everything in his life." You exhaled, memories resurfacing in front of your eyes, "you pushed me towards him when all you wanted was to hold me, it's something which I will never forget, Hoon."

"Oh, this dangerously looks like someone is trying to bond without me," you both turn around at the voice, you don't move but you're already grinning like a lovesick fool, the wind mess with your hair lightly and Sunghoon just smiles like he had been waiting for Jay to make his entrance. "Relax, lover boy, she's still yours." Jay rolled his eyes at Sunghoon's words, making his way towards where you stood and sliding his arms around both of your shoulders, pulling you both in. "We were just talking," you grinned, nuzzling into his warmth, "talking huh?" He teased, playing with your ear. Sunghoon snorted, clearly amused at the exchange, "yeah talking, want me to narrate everything to you so you'd feel included?"

Jay shook his head as Sunghoon leaned his head on his shoulder, "trouble comes in pairs in my life." You and Sunghoon laughed at his words, not really defending his claim, then Jay sighed, a content smile gracing on his lips, "lucky for me though, I'm clingy and not emotionally constipated." You scrunch your nose in response, just as Sunghoon faked his cough, "and humble too, apparently," you joked, rolling your eyes though you had a fond smile on your face. "Seriously though..." Jay trailed off, kissing your temple as you hand reached up to give his hand a gentle squeeze, "I don't think I've ever felt this steady in my life, like I know even if the world around me starts to spin I've got people who would have my back."

"And we've got your back too," Heeseung replied, standing beside Sunghoon, who then draped his hand on Heeseung's shoulder, while Jake joined your side, his hands interlocking yours as he looked at everyone, "Wow, this shit almost made me cry." Everyone groaned, nagging at him for ruining the moment. "It's so stupid, but I feel so lucky right now," Jay chuckled, biting back his emotions. "You're definitely stupid, but hey at least you're self aware," Heeseung laughed, looking at everyone with softness. Jay shook his head as he dramatically sighed, "I take it back, I'm not lucky, I'm doomed." Sunghoon chimed in, not missing a beat, "you still chose us, real tragic."

Jay threw his head back, mumbling quiet curses and you all laughed at him, Heeseung stepped forward, reaching up to ruffle Jay's hair, and Jay groaned, fighting with him to ruin his hairstyle too. Jake slid his arm around your shoulder and Sunghoon turned his back towards where Jay and Heeseung were fighting and leaned against the railing, you sighed, relaxing under Jake's hold, "you still love us though." Jay's eyes found you, before they landed on the other boys, he watched all of you look at him with expectant eyes, waiting for him to say something in retaliation, but deep down they knew Jay would never disagree with you so with a frustrated groan he mumbled, "unfortunately, I do."

[wakandas-vibranium]

What You Want With Me…?

Summary: Annie takes control one smoldering Mississippi night, and Smoke inevitably learns what it feels like to be completely undone.

Pairing: Annie x Elijah "Smoke" Moore

Warnings: smutty smut, milking, edging, degradation, praise, dom!annie, sub!smoke, use of the n-word

Word count: 2.9k

The ceiling fan clicks impotently. The room feels sweltering, damp, and too intimate. Smoke is on edge, as he always is. Without even moving, Annie dances around him like she owns the air he breathes and the floor he paces. She isn't trying to dominate him necessarily; she's just seeking the truth of him. She's experienced the tingling bite of his submission in flashes and flickers. She’s had but a mere taste the last few times. Tonight, she wants it all.

Annie is casually leaning against the doorway of the small barn house she and Smoke have grown to frequent over the last month or so. She’s wearing a pale blue nightgown that subtly hugs all of her curves. Cocoa brown skin that’s softer than room-temperature butter glistening lightly from the relentless Mississippi summer sun.

She watches Smoke light one of the two cigarettes that she saw Stack roll for him earlier as she contemplates how to get Smoke to give in fully not only to her but also to what his body craves.

She finally speaks, “You gon’ let me touch you the way I know you need, or you gon’ keep frontin’ like you don’t flinch every time I get close?”

Smoke doesn’t look up, but she catches the tiny smirk on his face as he says, “You talk too damn much, Annie.”

Annie straightens up and takes a few steps towards him, slow and calm. “Mmhm. But you ain’t moved since I started. C’mon, Elijah. I ain’t tryna break you. I just wanna see you melt.”

Smoke finally lifts his head and glances up at her, stormy brown eyes sharp. “I don’t melt, woman.”

She grins as she brushes her fingers up his inner thigh. “Yeah, you do, Elijah. You just don’t want me to see it.”

She removes the cigarette from his mouth and puts it out. He turns away from her to exhale the last bits of smoke hanging on his breath.

He holds her by the waist as he looks up into her eyes again, this time with an intense gaze of determination that surprises her. He exhales deeply and nods once as he pushes his body into Annie, giving her permission to take the reins. 

She takes her time removing his shirt and trousers. She gently pushes him back until he sits comfortably on the wooden chair. She uses his suspenders to tie both his muscled arms to the chair legs. There’s a brief moment of protest in his eyes, but he pushes it down. He sighs deeply again and relaxes his shoulders and completely surrenders to Annie, the woman he loves. God help him.

After stripping herself bare, she straddles him, but she doesn’t line his hardening cock against her wet heat. Not yet. She kisses his collarbone. She plants a kiss on the corner of his mouth. His jaw clenches and unclenches with each kiss. Then his full lips and his mustache tickle her top lip the way she likes it every time he deepens the kiss.

Annie breaks the kiss and whispers, “Every time we fuck, you fight it. You rush. Like you scared of what happens if you slow down.” His eyes drop, and she cups his face, eyes softening as he gazes back into hers. “I ain’t scared of it. So let me take you there, Elijah.”

He finally admits the truth, “I trust you.”

Her hands slid down his chest. Over his toned stomach. To his cock. She grips it loosely, and his breathing stutters.

Annie lifts off his lap and circles him slowly as she thinks on how to start first. 

It smells like sawdust and summer heat in the barn. Moonlight seeps through the slats in the walls, catching the fine sheen of sweat already glistening across Smoke’s chest.

The ties ain’t too tight, but they’re intentional. Just enough tension to remind him that he ain’t goin’ nowhere unless she says so.

Annie stops behind him, her voice low and as warm as molasses as she says, “You ever notice how jumpy you get when you ain’t the one callin’ the shots?”

She drags her fingers up his bare arms, tantalizingly slow. He shivers. He doesn’t answer her. His mind and body are tussling for control and his body is in the lead. 

She leans down, mouth against his ear, “You trust me to pull your trigger, Elijah? Hmm?” She places a hot kiss below his ear, a spot that always makes his brain short-circuit. “Or you still convinced all I wanna do is tame you?”

With gritted teeth and tensing thighs, Smoke says, “I told you before, woman, I ain’t nobody’s pet.” 

Smoke feels her smirk against his skin and bites back a groan. Annie takes his ear between her teeth, nibbling gently. “And yet here you are, tied up with your own damn clothes. Eager to watch me peel you open like one of my sweet potatoes.” 

He grunts, cock twitching twice against his thigh, but he doesn’t say another word. 

Annie slides in front of him now, crouching between his knees. She rests her chin against his knee and looks at his raging hardness, then up into his eyes, her gaze soft yet commanding. “I don’t want your obedience, Elijah. I want your surrender. That part of you you only show when you think I’m not payin’ attention.” 

His voice is tight, eyes burning with a ferocity so intense only she could handle. “You don’t know what you askin’ for, Annie.” 

She nods once and whispers, “Yes, I do.”

She wraps her hand around the base of his cock. It’s warm and heavy. Eager. She doesn’t rush. She doesn’t squeeze or stroke. She just holds him there, firm. “Look at that… already halfway there. You ain’t even fightin’ it no more.”

The wood creaks once under his weight as he shifts in the chair. He hates not having access to his hands but doesn’t comment on it. Annie can already tell from one look. He shifts again, extending one of his legs. Not to pull away from her but to ground himself. She watches his abs tighten and his teeth sink into his bottom lip as he fights back a moan. 

His cock has an impressive rigidity…it is harder than it’s ever been. She files that away in her mind for later. He’s heavy, throbbing, and leaking already, which is where the real fun begins. 

And he hates how fast it happened.

That is what she loves the most. He talks like he is in charge, but his body has been telling on him since she first touched him. 

She spits in her hand and gets a grip on him, stroking loosely just enough to make him twitch. Not enough to give him any kind of relief. 

“Aww, what’s the matter, Elijah? Already breathin’ like you close, and I ain’t even really started.”

Smoke glares at her, “Shut the hell up, woman.”

Annie smirks, her voice laced with sweet cruelty, “Ohhh, there he go. Talkin’ tough while I got your dick in my hand.” She leans forward and kisses the swollen tip. “You always this mouthy when you’re tied up and needy?”

He flinches at the kiss, half from sensitivity, half from embarrassment. She licks a slow stripe up the underside of him, and his thighs tighten instinctively.

Smoke grunts, struggling to keep his composure, “You keep runnin’ that mouth, and I swear—”

Annie cuts him off with a snicker, “—You gon’ what? Hmm? Buck against the restraints I put on you?” Her eyes soften just a tad as she sees the raw desire burning in his eyes. “Baby, you talk like you got power in this moment. But you’re already spillin’ in my hand.”

She pumps him slowly. Cruel. Just the kind of pace that makes a man ache instead of climax.

He’s breathing harder now, trying to stay still, not wanting to give her the satisfaction of seeing him unravel.

Annie kisses the inside of his thigh and asks, “You know what I love?” She pumps him a little faster. “Watching you fight it. Watchin’ your jaw clench, your chest rise, your pretty little dick beggin’ for mercy while you pretend you don’t love this shit.”

He hisses through his teeth. He’s close. So close. But he won’t say it. Won’t warn her.

Annie coos, “Go on, Elijah. Cum for me. I know it’s right there. Be a good boy and gimme that first one.”

Smoke groans again, louder this time, breaths coming in shorter, “Fuck you—”

Annie giggles, “You wish. Now hush and cum.”

She twists her wrist just right, leans in, and whispers, “My good fuckin’ boy,” right as his whole body seizes.

Smoke groans, deep, guttural, and involuntary. His thighs jerk, toes curling in his boots as he spills hot and messy across her hand and thigh.

He’s panting. Shaking. Spewing all kinds of filthy curses. That doesn’t stop Annie because she’s already reaching for him again. 

Smoke half-drunk off release, body on fire with ecstasy, slurs out, “Annie… wait, wait, I—fuuckk, I need a minute.”

Annie hums while stroking him slowly again, already coaxing him back to full hardness. “No, baby. You needed a minute. That was one.” She leans in slowly to kiss him, pink tongue pushing past his full lips with filthy precision, “Now I wanna see what that mouthy attitude sounds like when you cum for the second time.”

A deep, low whine escapes his throat. He shocks himself, completely unaware he could even make a noise so desperate. She laughs softly, presses her forehead to his, and whispers, “You so fuckin’ pretty when you give up the fight, Elijah. My sweet, stubborn mess.”

He’s still breathing heavily. His thighs are shaking, his wrists tug uselessly at the suspenders holding him in place. But she hasn’t stopped. Won’t stop. One hand still pumps him slick now, easier, crueler. His cock is sensitive, reddening at the tip, twitching like it’s confused between pain and pleasure.

Smoke grunts and gasps, “Annie… f-fuck… I said I need a goddamn second—”

Annie giggles mockingly, “Aww, and I said I ain’t done with you.” She leans in to kiss his nose. “You gave me one. I want more. You said you could handle me, didn’t you? What happened to all that bark, huh?”

He jerks in the chair when she thumbs the crown, swiping the underside with the perfect amount of pressure. His cock is sensitive as hell now. His hips lift like his body’s betraying him.

Annie continues, “Still tryna pretend like you ain’t mine? Even when you moanin’ through clenched teeth and squirmin’ like this?”

Smoke chokes out a moan, “You ain’t… I ain’t…”

Annie says sharply, her voice laced with lust, “Say it.” She pumps him with both hands now, drastically slow and downright mean. “Say who you belong to right now, Elijah.”

He shakes his head, his face scrunching like he’s trying not to cry. She kisses him again even more possessively than the last time and still doesn’t stop stroking.

A broken, shaky moan slips out of his throat. “Shit…Annie, please.”

Annie freezes mid stroke, but only for a few seconds. “Ohhh?” She leans back and tilts her head cockily, “Did you just beg? Elijah Smoke Moore…said please?”

He jerks again, head dropping back against the chair, throat exposed, lips parted in something that’s not a scream but damn sure wants to be.

Annie strokes him even faster now and whispers, “That’s what I wanted. That’s what you been fightin’ this whole time. You know how beautiful you are like this? All messy and needy and mine?”

Smoke lets out a desperate sound, barely coherent as he begs, “A-Annie… I’m close—again, I—fuuuckk, I can’t, it’s too much, I—”

Annie leans in again, mouth dropping by his ear, “Yes, you can. You gon’ give it to me. Gonna let go, baby. You hold so much shit in, you forget how to fall apart.”

She speeds up, her hand steady even as his body jerks and trembles. He can’t even form words. Too blissed out.

Annie moans, drunk on lust and love and pure domination, “Let me ruin you, Elijah. Come on. Be good for me.”

That’s it. That’s the word that undoes him.

He lets out a strained, broken sound. His back arches, thighs trembling uncontrollably as he comes again. It’s messier this time. Louder. He groans her name like a confession, like one of her bayou curses and one of his uncle’s Sunday prayers all at once.

She slows her hand but doesn’t completely stop. 

Not yet.

His chest is heaving. Sweat drips down his temple. He’s slumped in the chair, wrecked, blinking slowly like he just woke up from a dream he didn’t want to leave.

Annie climbs into his lap, careful not to overstimulate him again…yet.

She cradles his face and kisses him gently this time. Tender. Safe.

Annie shushes him, “There he is. The real you. The one I’ve been waitin’ on.”

Smoke slowly comes to, unable to look her in the eye just yet, but asks anyway, “You… you gon’ tell Stack?”

Annie chuckles softly as she rests her forehead against his. “What? That I tied your proud ass up and made you say please twice? Hell no. That’s our secret.” Then she whispers, “Unless you act up. Then I might have to remind you who really runnin’ shit ‘round here.”

Smoke's ears and cheeks warm immediately. He shakes his head fondly at her, “You evil.”

Annie kisses him again, smiling brightly. “No, baby. I’m just honest. And tonight? So were you.”

His head lolls back against the chair, body limp, thighs still twitching from the second orgasm. He’s covered in sweat, hair sticking to the back of his neck, lips parted like he’s trying to say something but forgot how words work.

And Annie? Annie’s glowing. THRIVING. Annie is captivated by his sounds, brimming with power, yet her satisfaction remains unfulfilled.

Annie drags her nails down his chest and lines him up, “One more, Elijah. That’s all I want. One more. You got it in you, I know you do.”

Smoke lets out a shaky breath, eyes heavy. “Annie, baby, I—” He groans deeply when he feels her wet heat sliding over him. “Fuck. You tryna kill a nigga or what?”

Annie moans loudly as she sinks down onto him, slow and deep. “No, baby. I’m tryna feel you. Just like this. All of you.”

He gasps when he’s fully buried in her soaked heat, tight walls squeezing the life out of him. The overstimulation hits like a lightning strike, but the warmth of her, the rhythm of her hips? Her warmth and the rhythm of her hips simultaneously soothe and wreck him. 

She’s so wet, so soft around him, and still so fucking intentional. She moves in slow rolls, grinding deep instead of bouncing, letting him feel everything.

Annie braces her hands on his broad shoulders, panting softly, “Let it happen. Don’t fight me this time.” She moans loudly as she swirls her hips, “Let it be good, Elijah. For both of us.”

He tries. God, he tries. He whimpers against her lips, too far gone to be ashamed of the desperate noises he makes now because her rhythm is too much and too perfect.

She kisses him like he’s long-lost treasure and only she can locate it without a map. 

Her own orgasm builds slowly and low in her belly. It burns. Tightens. She can feel him throbbing inside her, close again even though he swore he couldn’t go another round.

He’s trembling. Arms yanking at the restraints. His breath is stuttering against her mouth. But he won’t look away. His voice barely manages to crack out a warning, “Annie…shit woman. I’m—I’m gonna—”

Annie clenches around him tighter, panting into his mouth, “Me too. Cum with me, baby.”

Their sweat-glistening foreheads press together as they both tip over the edge—his third, her first. Her nails dig into his shoulders as she shudders around him, crying out his name, hips still moving through it. He lets out the softest, most broken sound of the night, almost a sob, and spills inside her, twitching and gasping, completely wrecked and utterly fucked.

She stays on him for a moment, chests pressed together, heartbeats wild and tangled.

He’s limp in the chair. Breathless. Shaky. His arms are still tied, and his wrists are tugging slightly against the suspenders.

Annie whispers softly, brushing sweat off his face, “You did so good for me, Elijah. I got you now. I got you always.”

She reaches behind the chair, slowly unhooking the suspenders from around his wrists. Red marks bloom across his skin. The marks are faint but tender. She lifts each wrist to her lips and kisses the spots gently, reverently.

Annie asks him, “You okay?” 

Smoke is too out of it to form words, so he just nods. Barely. His massive arms wrap around her waist like it’s all he can manage. He buries his face in her neck, breathing her in like fresh air after drowning.

She shifts just enough to pull a tattered blanket from the nearby haystack and wraps it around both of them while they sit in the chair, tangled, sweat-slick, and completely undone.

Annie rocks him gently while whispering into his ear, “You can let go with me. I ain’t goin’ nowhere.”

He doesn’t say anything. Doesn’t need to now. He just holds her tighter against his spent body.

And outside the barn, the crickets chirp. The night stretches on, reticent and revered.

ach. To

[freakmcnastyy]

Weak Hero Boys x P!Reader Headcanons

Weak Hero Class boys x pregnant!reader (fluff)

Includes: Geum Seongjae,Na Baekjin, Ahn Suho, Yeon Si-eun, Kang Woo-young, Oh Beom-seok, Go Hyuntak, Park Humin (Baku)

Note: This was an anon request! AND GOD, I swear writing — let alone reading — stuff like this makes me feel all kinds of weird. And I wrote each character at a different time of day so they wouldn’t all feel the same. Hope I pulled it off.

⸻

Geum Seongjae

1. The Moment He Finds Out:

Silence. He just stares. Then his lip twitches.

The second you tell him you’re pregnant, Seongjae goes quiet for a few seconds. He looks unbothered on the outside, but you know a thousand things are racing through his head. In that moment, his whole “world” shifts.

“I knew no one else could ever give me something like this.”

He says it softly, but something breaks in his eyes — like the idea of ever letting you go has become completely impossible.

2. Possessiveness:

Obsession. Protection. Paranoia.

He’s not just protecting you anymore, but everything you’re carrying inside you. Even the tiniest bit of stress is enough reason for him to lock you in the house. If someone bumps into you by accident? Seongjae might beat them up in the middle of the street without a second thought.

“I better not see you cry again. I’m dead serious.”

Even the dark circles under your eyes feel like a personal insult to him.

3. Physical Obsession:

He’s obsessed with your belly. Every time he talks to you, his hand goes there like a reflex. At night, he lays his head against it and whispers things to the baby. He starts acting like a “family” way before the baby’s even born — but not in a normal way.

“There’s a piece of me inside you. That means you don’t get to leave. Ever.”

4. Jealousy & Going Insane:

Another guy checking you out while you’re pregnant? Your best friend trying to take you out of the house? It’s all a problem. At some point, he might even try to hide the fact that you’re pregnant altogether.

“Don’t wear that. There’s no reason to show your stomach like that. People don’t need to see. That’s mine.”

5. Random Kindness Spikes:

He’ll suddenly start talking about baby room ideas, sweet little dreams, out of nowhere. In those moments he seems normal, like a regular excited dad — but there’s always a breakdown bubbling underneath.

“If it’s a girl, you can name her. But if it’s a boy… I’ll decide.”

6. Before & After the Birth:

The closer it gets to your due date, the more controlling he becomes. He chooses the hospital, who’s allowed in the room, even the nurse that’s going to be with you.

“If anything goes wrong… someone’s paying for it. Got it?”

And after the birth? He isolates you, the baby, and himself like it’s a three-person world. He wants to build everything from zero — just you three.

“It’s only us now. Everyone else out there is dangerous. What else do I need to do to make you understand that?”

⸻

Na Baekjin

1. When He Finds Out:

Silence. He masks his emotions, but his pupils shake. After you tell him, he holds your gaze — and stays exactly the same. Cold. Serious. Neither happy nor mad. Then he lowers his head a little.

“Is it mine?”

He trusts you. He does. But he still asks — not because he doubts you, but because he wants to believe so bad it physically hurts. And maybe… because he hates himself a little too much.

2. He Doesn’t Say “I Can’t Be a Dad,” but…

Responsibility? That’s not something he’s ever believed he deserved. He tells himself, “Someone like me can’t raise a child.” But he still parks outside your place every night, just watching. Making sure nothing happens.

“Don’t be alone. I’m behind you like a shadow — just act like I’m not there.”

3. His Way of Protecting You:

Silent. Brutal. Shadowed. Baekjin never publicly claims you. But anyone who threatens you? They start disappearing one by one. He’s given a silent order across the whole Union.

“If anyone even thinks about getting close to her — they better have their grave ready.”

4. How He Sees the Pregnancy:

It’s guilt mixed with obsession. When he sees your belly, his eyes freeze for a second. Because there’s a life inside you — his life — and he’s still struggling to believe something so pure could come from someone like him.

“If I were someone cleaner… maybe we could’ve really had this together.”

Still, his hands always go to your stomach. Every time he touches you, it’s careful. Gentle. Like he thinks you might break.

5. He Cuts You Off From the World:

The closer it gets to your due date, the more he isolates you. Friends? Family? Opinions? None of it matters to him.

“I don’t care what anyone says. If something happens to you… I’ll burn the f*cking world down.”

6. “Family” Becomes Real for the First Time:

Baekjin never had warmth growing up. Never had a real home. But now? Now the idea of building a house — not a place, but a feeling — with you and the baby is something he clings to in the dark. One night, he says without thinking:

“If someone had hugged me growing up… maybe I could’ve loved as good as you do.”

7. After the Baby’s Born:

He’s a wall. Cold, distant. But always there. He won’t hold the baby and coo over it, no. But he stands by the crib at night while you sleep, silently watching the tiny hand curled around his finger.

“Would it be okay… if I picked the name?”

⸻

Ahn Suho

1. When He Finds Out:

Shocked. Eyes wide. “Wait, what? Are you serious?! We’re PREGNANT?!”

At first, it doesn’t compute. He asks you to repeat it like three times. Then his hands start shaking. He might even tear up.

“I’m… I’m gonna be a dad? For real?!”

His first reaction is pure joy — mixed with straight-up panic. He wants to pick you up and spin you around, but the moment you say “Stop, I’m nauseous!” he freezes and immediately puts you down.

2. Ridiculously Affectionate:

He flips into “mom mode” in two seconds. Tries cooking for you, watches YouTube videos on pregnancy massages, double-checks every corner of the house like “is this safe for her? for the baby?”

“No more junk food. Less salt. Sit down, feet up. This baby’s not stressing you out!”

3. Fighting His Own Demons:

Deep down, he thinks, “I didn’t have a good childhood… what if I mess this up too?”

But he never says it out loud. He just holds you at night and whispers to your belly:

“If I raise this baby with someone like you… maybe I won’t mess it up.”

4. Emotional Rollercoaster:

Your hormones? Yeah, his are worse. You cry, he cries. You snap, he sulks — but then brings you a fruit bowl with a pouty face. One time, you probably ended up ugly crying together while eating stuffed grape leaves.

5. Silent Jealousy:

If he sees you talking to another guy? His whole vibe shifts. He won’t say anything, but the pout, the slumped shoulders, the quiet little stares — they’re all there.

“Go out if you want, just… wear something warm. And text me. At every step. I just— I worry, okay?”

6. The Birth Itself:

Sweating. Shaking. Crying. Loving. If they let him in the room, he’s right there, holding your hand like it’s the only thing keeping him alive. If they don’t — he’s on his knees outside the door, praying like his whole soul’s in it.

“You’re both okay, right? Please… that’s all I need.”

⸻

Yeon Si-eun

1. When He Finds Out:

His brain literally freezes for a second before it starts processing. When you say “I’m pregnant,” Si-eun just stares at you in silence. No yelling. No running. No hugs. His hands tremble a little.

“How long has it been? Are you okay? How many weeks?”

He hides his emotions — but every question screams, “I’m scared to death of losing you.”

2. Switches to Practical, Strategic Dad Mode:

Hospital? Booked. Doctor? Researched. Nutrition? Charted. Stress? Monitored.

“You’re not eating anything on this list. I’m serious.”

But also:

“But… if you’re craving something… I kinda snuck in a little chocolate. Please don’t be mad.”

3. He Suppresses Emotion, But Never Leaves You Alone:

He didn’t grow up with love, so he genuinely has no clue how to treat you or the baby. But one thing’s for sure: he’s not going anywhere.

He’s not the jealous type — but he is controlling. He won’t say “who did you hang out with?” but he’ll definitely check your phone later and mentally profile anyone who could hurt you.

“Don’t see anyone who might stress you out. Please. Not for me — for our child.”

⸻

Kang Woo-young

1. When He Finds Out:

Silence. Eyes on the floor. Then suddenly, his breath catches. He doesn’t say a word at first — just stares blankly. But if you look closely, you’ll see he literally forgot how to breathe.

“…I’m gonna be a dad?”

His voice shakes, but he tries to play it off. His jaw clenches.

“Okay. I’ll… I’ll figure this out. Just give me a little time.”

And then he leaves — not because he doesn’t care, but because he never planned to build a family. It was always just you and him. But later that night, he comes back. Finds you asleep, puffy-eyed from crying. Slips into bed behind you, holds you tight, buries his face in your neck.

“Don’t ever think you’re alone. No matter what… I’m here.”

2. Shows Love Through Actions, Not Words:

He can’t cook soup, but he’ll leave water by your bed every night. He can’t write you poetry, but he’ll tie your shoelaces without a word. And the first time your belly starts to show, his eyes well up.

“God, this is so weird. But so beautiful.”

3. Protection Style:

Quiet But Deadly.

Someone bumped into you? Woo-young doesn’t say a word. But a few days later, you’ll hear that guy got beat half to death in some underground ring.

He promises no more fights — “for the baby.” But of course he still does it.

4. Obsessed With Your Belly — But Too Shy To Show It:

His eyes keep drifting to your stomach when he talks to you. But he’s too shy to touch it. One night, you place his hand there — and he literally forgets how to breathe. His fingers tremble.

“Did you really love me this much?”

That night, for the first time, he rests his head on your belly and whispers for hours:

“Don’t be like your mom. She’s too soft. This world’s harsh.”

5. Emotional Breakdowns: Silent Crying:

As your pregnancy progresses, every time he feels like he’s not doing enough, tears fall. But he hides in the bathroom so you won’t see.

“I have to be strong. For both of you.”

6. Day of the Birth:

Looks like he just stepped out of a street fight. Doesn’t yell at the doctors, but the fire in his eyes says enough.

7. Fatherhood:

He can’t stop the baby from crying. Can’t change a diaper right. But every single night, he stays up beside the crib. He lets you cry in his lap without saying a word.

“You don’t have to be scared. I’m right here. Always.”

⸻

Oh Beom-seok

1. When He Finds Out:

Stares blankly. He thinks you’re joking at first.

“Wait… are you serious? From me? Like, really…?”

Then his voice breaks. His eyes fill up, but he tries not to cry. Honestly? His world crashes down. Because his dad… well, you know. And it’s not about what’ll happen to him — it’s the fear of something happening to you or the baby.

“I’m gonna… be a dad?”

His voice cracks saying it. Because his father made sure the word “dad” left a scar on his soul.

2. Wants To Run — But Can’t:

In his head: “I’m someone who doesn’t know love, who grew up on violence, who shuts everyone out. What do I have to do with someone like you?”

But leaving you would be death to him. So instead, he goes quiet. Closes in on himself.

“I don’t want to hurt you… so I might keep my distance for a while. But I won’t leave. I promise.”

3. Blames Himself Deeply:

Lays in bed staring at the ceiling every night.

“What if I turn out like him? What if I am him?”

4. Hyper Emotional, Super Fragile:

Every time you’re tired, he blames himself. Don’t feel like eating? He tears up, thinking he messed something up.

“I can’t stand seeing you upset. I’ve already been so awful… don’t turn into me.”

To him, your pregnant body feels sacred. Sometimes he can’t even touch you.

“You’re carrying something inside you now. I don’t even wanna accidentally hurt you. I’m scared.”

6. The Birth:

He breaks. Shaking. Sitting in some hospital hallway, hands covering his face, sobbing like the world’s ending.

“Please… God, please don’t take her from me.”

7. Fatherhood:

Slow, but deeply tender. Doesn’t know how to hold a baby. But watches over yours every second of the night. Talks to the baby while you sleep.

And one day, watching the two of you together — he smiles. For the first time. A real, slow, genuine smile.

“I thought I had no place in this world. But… you gave me a room in it.”

⸻

Go Hyun-tak

1. When He Finds Out:

This man goes feral. In a good way. Just stands there with this shocked, joy-filled smile, completely speechless. Then suddenly:

“Wait WHAT? OUR baby? PROJECT LEBRON JAMES BEGINS!”

2. Protective Soft Side Comes Out:

He shows up for every single doctor’s appointment. Tries to learn everything he can. At home, he leaves little surprises — hot soup, a fruit plate, a stack of pillows. But he does it shyly, almost embarrassed.

“You feeling okay matters more to me than anything.”

3. His Excitement Is Contagious:

Shopping for the baby? He treats it like a mission. Toys, clothes, the perfect paint color for the nursery — he’s got opinions.

“Our baby’s gonna sleep in the nicest room on the block, alright?”

4. Tiny Panic Attacks — But He Bounces Back:

He sometimes spirals like “what if we’re not ready?” But then breathes in, looks at you, and says:

“We’re in this together. No matter what. We’ve got this.”

5. Jealousy Is Soft & Silly:

Sees you chatting with another guy? Pouts a little. Then immediately smiles again.

“Sorry… I just. You’re kinda my whole world.”

6. Birth Time = Full Support Mode:

He’s right beside you, holding your hand, hyping you up with every push.

“You’re strong. I’m right here.”

When the baby cries for the first time, he’s standing right there, trying to feed it with trembling hands.

“Look at our tiny Lebron James.”

7. Dives Into Dad Life Fast:

He’s hungry to learn. Wakes up for every night feeding, writes down every little milestone.

“We’re building something new. You, me, and our baby. It’s gonna be amazing.”

⸻

Park Humin (Baku)

1. When He Finds Out:

He screams. For real. Like he just scored the game-winning goal in the final second. Pure, goofy, chaotic happiness.

2. A Little Insecure:

His relationship with his dad? Yeah. Complicated as hell. He’s terrified of telling him, and even more scared he might turn into him. Just like Beom-seok, he fears becoming a bad father.

3. Quiet, Emotional Protection:

With you? He’s tough. Out in public? He smiles and holds your hand like you’re fragile glass.

“No one’s touching you. Baku’s right here.”

But when he’s alone, his chest aches with the memories of his dad.

4. Tiny Surprises & Care:

You’re tired? He sets up cute little things around the house. Brings your favorite dessert. Buys fresh chicken from your favorite spot.

“I know this isn’t easy… but we’ve got this. Together.”

5. Jealousy & Trust:

Sees you talking to other guys? His eyes tear up — but he never says a word. Keeps it buried.

“Just… understand me, okay? I just wanna protect you.”

6. During Birth:

Nervous as hell but stands strong. His palms sweat like crazy, but he holds your hand the whole time.

“You’re gonna be okay. You and the baby — you’re both okay.”

7. Fatherhood:

Soft. Steady. Scared. But loving. He’s clumsy at first, scared to touch the baby. But he never leaves your side. Stands by the crib every night.

“I’m not just here for you anymore. I’m here for them too.”

[jakesimfromstatefarm]

──── IT'S US ↳ requested // part of the no doubt series !

✎ᝰ.ᐟ aka the one where jake & yn have a rule that whenever they fight, if one of them opens their arms, the other must go in for the hug. no matter what.

♡ જ⁀➴ based off of this request! ok this one was lowkey hard because i usually just write super fluffy & cutesy stuff for jakeyn that i just couldn't think of a reason for them to be arguing in the first place..but i think this suites them well :) hope you like itttt <3

The apartment is too quiet. 

Too quiet in the way that you can hear your heart pounding.

Too quiet in the way that you can hear Jake’s breaking. 

“I just—“ Jake’s voice is tight. Frustrated. His brows are furrowed, jaw clenched, but his eyes—they’re worried. Hurting. Like he’s trying to piece you together and getting it all wrong. “I’m trying so hard to help, but you never let me in when it matters the most!” 

You’re still, standing across the room like your feet are glued to the floor beneath you. A lump swells in your throat, burns at the edges. 

You swallow it down anyways. 

“Because, Jake! God—you’re not listening to me!” 

The words hang there. Sharp. A little too loud. A little too honest.

Jake exhales hard. Runs a hand through his hair. His jaw tightens all over again.

He opens his mouth like he’s going to say something back. Like he could. But instead—

He opens his arms. 

And for a second, you just stare at him. 

Because you’re mad. And tired. And everything is too loud and too much. 

Because your chest is heavy and your throat is tight, and this wasn’t supposed to be a big deal, but somehow it became one.  

You stare at him across the room, frozen in the middle of all the tension you built—brick by brick, built out of stress and missed signals and Jake always trying to solve things that weren’t his to fix. 

He’d been going it again lately—trying so hard to hold you up. Trying to fix your bad days the second hinted at having one. Trying to be your solution when sometimes—sometimes all you needed was space to think. To feel. To figure it out on your own. 

And you know he means well. You know he just cares—so deeply, cares so genuinely. 

But sometimes—you didn’t want someone to catch you before you fell. You wanted someone to sit with you at the bottom and wait until you were ready to climb back out. 

And sometimes, Jake cares so much that he didn’t get that. 

Until now. 

Until he says nothing. Moves nowhere. 

His expression just softens. Cracks at the edges. 

And his arms stay open.

Because a rule’s a rule. 

And that’s all it takes. 

Your own shoulders fall, heavy under the weight of all the things you couldn’t say. 

Of all the ways you tried to protect your own peace by pushing away the person who is your peace. 

So you take a step forward. 

And another. 

Until you fall into his chest—and it’s not graceful. Not cinematic. You crash into him like you needed him. 

And he catches you. He always does. 

His arms wrap around your waist so tight, like he’s trying to press you into himself, trying to hold all your pieces together in his own hands. 

His nose buries into your shoulder. His hands runs up and down your spine. His other curls against your hair, his fingers shaking a little as they thread through the knots. 

Neither of you say anything. 

You just breathe. 

You let yourself melt into him. 

And then Jake whispers, voice breaking quietly against the curve of your neck, “I’m sorry. I’m listening. I promise I am.” 

You close your eyes. Curl your fists into the front of his shirt. Breathe in the smell of him. The warmth. The ache and the comfort all at once. 

“I know you have a lot on your plate,” you murmur into his chest, the words barely forming. “And I do too. And I know that you try your best to be there for me—and you have been. You’ve been there for me through everything and I’m so, so grateful for that.” 

Jake listens as he holds you there—tight with no intention of letting you go, a hand still pressed to the small of your back. 

“But some things…,” you go on, voice gentler, softer, your fingers now holding onto the hem of his shirt. “—some things I just want to tackle on my own. I just need to think. Figure it out by myself first. And it doesn’t mean I don’t need you. Because I do. So much.” 

Jake stays silent, just nodding against you, his breath shaky. You can feel the weight of it on your shoulder. 

“I want you by my side through it all. I just—I’m sorry I shut you out sometimes. I’ll try to be better. And—“ 

You swallow the lump in your throat. “—and I’m sorry I raised my voice too.” 

Jake pulls back—just a little, just enough to look at you. 

His hands move to cup your face like you’re something delicate, something irreplacable. His thumbs brush beneath your eyes like he’s checking for tears. Like he’s already blaming himself for every one. 

“I’m sorry too,” he whispers, his voice cracking. “I love you. So much. And it scares me sometimes. I don’t want to sit back and watch you hurt—not if I can do something about it. But I know I need to learn when to be there and when to just be there.” 

You nod. A hand comes up to hold one of his that’s still holding your face. 

Jake leans in—forehead resting against yours. His breathing slows. Yours does too. 

A long silence settles between you. 

And then—he closes the gap and kisses you. 

Not rushed. Not urgent. Just quiet and honest. 

He kisses you once. 

Then again. 

Then again, slower. Softer. 

When he finally pulls back—when the tension simmers down and all that's left is the warmth and comfort and love—his hands go down to your arms, subconsciously rubbing up and down as he smiles down at you, “I told you the hug thing would work. No matter what.” 

You smile back at him—a real one, as you lean back into his chest, your arms wrapping around his back again as you murmur against him, “Of course it did—” 

He kisses the top of your head. 

“It's us.” 

no doubt m. list

tag list pt 1!: @bluxjun @ki2rins @why-did-i-just-do-this @favoritten @lovialymisc @xylatox @vivimura @leehsngs @puma-riki @lezzleeferguson-120 @enhaprettystars @laurradoesloveu @sievenderz @somuchdard @kristynaah @hinryh @ltfirecracker @lov4hoon @taeheexx @niyzu @chunkzdeluluwife @jakeflvrz @fangirl125reader @0429jw @dreamy-carat @yuons @thestarinstarbucks @miszes @llearlert @ppeachyttae @hoomin10 @teddybeartaetae @tanisha2060 @therealmrsbahng @beomgyu-bears @ikeulove @jiyeons-closet @youngheejay @wxnderingthoughts @fuevrois @soobundle1009 @isoobie @enhypenova @zoemeltigloos @lizdevorak @deluluscenarios @bloomiize @hasuyv @ijustwannareadstuff20 @heekolazz @dreamiestay @jakeyyyjakexoxo

[justwinginglife]

Stuck With You

I feel like no one is gonna read this cuz it's objectively so, so dumb, but honestly, this is the kinda shit that goes through my head on a daily basis and I just thought it would be funny to write it out. Anyway, here goes.

Synopsis: You're handcuffed to Sylus and he decides to make it the biggest pain in your ass. Approx Word Count: 1300 Tags: There's really nothing of note unless you get grossed out by the happenings in the bathroom. This really is just me fucking around for roughly 1300 words.

You held out as long as you could. You really, really did. But you couldn’t hold out forever. 

You cursed heaven, hell, and everything in between for your bad luck. It seemed there was no getting past this now. You cleared your throat, already regretting the confession that was to come, even before it’d left your lips. “Alright…the moment we’ve been dreading has finally come.”

Sylus raised a brow at you curiously. 

”I… I need to go to the bathroom.” You admitted, crimson soaking into your cheeks, as you shifted your weight around. 

A grin spread across his face, slow and smug, as he processed this new information (leverage). “Well, I, for one, have not been dreading this moment at all. If you have to go, then go, sweetie.” 

Your eyes narrowed, threatening to gun him down with nothing more than spite and spite alone. “You- you know damn well it’s not that simple! You have to… turn around or something!”

He lifted the wrist that was currently cuffed to you, and had been cuffed for the last two hours. The two of you hadn’t figured out much about the link that conjoined your bodies besides the fact that it was extremely inconvenient, and now, it was even more inconvenient. 

“Not very much turning space in here, is there?” He gave shaking your wrists a weak attempt. An hour or two ago, he might’ve actually tried to escape these restraints (the asshole even suggested cutting your hand off at one point), but not now. Not when you’d single-handedly, willingly provided him with the most entertainment he’d had in decades. 

You knew this. And you refused to be his shiny, new plaything. ”So close your eyes then, damnit!”

”Ah, but the thing is, kitten-“ He leaned forward, arrogance and audacity dripping from his lips, “I just don’t feel like it.”

”So what? You’re just going to watch me pee???”

He shrugged casually.

You scoffed before slouching back against the couch. Apparently you’d have to hold it a little longer until you could figure out how to sever the connection between the two of you. But how exactly were you supposed to sever it? The more you struggled against it, the tighter it got, but it was impossible to just completely relax- not when he was looking at you all beady-eyed and brat-faced. And the longer you pondered the situation, the more you regretted admitting to Sylus what your current condition was. Because he was insufferable. 

He feigned playing a game on his phone to cure his boredom, but you knew he was behind the random waterfall noises that had begun to drift into the previously-quiet air. And even though he’d shown no signs of being thirsty before, he soon began to gulp down his water (that he’d seemingly procured out of nowhere!) as loudly as he could. And then there was his absolutely ridiculous dialogue. 

“You know what sounds good right about now? Some peas.”

”Or maybe a piece of pie.”

”I hope nobody peeks into our room and sees the situation we’ve found ourselves in.”

”Goddamnit-Sylus! I already said I’m not gonna pee with you attached to me!” You huffed, whacking him across the face with a decorative pillow. 

“Well, kitten, we’ve got another issue now. Or at least, you do. I have no issues with it whatsoever.”

You threw your head back, groaning in frustration. “WHAT, Sylus, WHAT? What’s the issue? Just spit it out already!”

He grinned, the devil in his eyes. “Well, you see, after drinking all that water, it appears that I need to pee now. So you can either watch or turn around.”

”What happened to no turning space??” You yanked at your joint wrists angrily. 

“So watch then.”

”Can’t you just hold it?!” You exclaimed, exasperated.

”I could but where’s the fun in that?”

”Sylus- this isn’t funny!”

“On the contrary- I find it to be quite amusing. Up we go.” He slipped one arm underneath you, giving you no choice but to accompany him to the bathroom, as he carried you squirming and squealing all the way. 

He didn’t waste any time dropping his trousers (without warning- mind you!) and positioning himself over the toilet (to which you very quickly squeezed your eyes shut). You heard a low chuckle rumble in his throat- the irritating evidence of his enjoyment. 

“Bastard.” You grumbled under your breath.

”Ahhhhhhhh, feels so nice to just…let go.” He narrated.

”Yeah, yeah, I get it! Just hurry it up!” You groaned, squeezing your legs together tightly, trying to ignore the overbearing pressure building up in your bladder. 

”Why? I’m quite enjoying myself.” He leaned in so his breath tickled your ear, “And you could be too if you just let yourself.”

You bit your lip. 

You knew he was right. You knew you would feel so, so much better if you just relieved yourself. After all, your legs couldn’t squeeze together any tighter at this point and your core muscles were already strained beyond belief from holding back the raging floodwaters. But you couldn’t help being stubborn. You’d barely gotten used to having Sylus being around you at all let alone gotten comfortable enough to let him see you piss. This had to be some cruel twist of fate; someone somewhere had to be laughing their ass off, just thinking about how tormented you were. You didn’t want to give them, or Sylus, the satisfaction. So you squeezed your eyes shut and began thinking of random numbers to distract yourself… but you didn’t realize you had started mumbling them out loud.

”Fourteen…fifteen…sixteen…”

Sylus caught on quickly and proceeded to antagonize you further. “Seventy three…twenty one…one hundred and sixty four…five million…” 

You glared at him as he interrupted your train of thought. 

“Just helping.” He teased.

”Shut up, I don’t need your help.”

”But you do need to relieve yourself at some point.” He poked your nose. 

You waved him away but, once again, you knew he was right. 

You glanced down at your joint wrists and made one last, desperate attempt to sever your connection to him, but it remained as strong as ever. At this point, your options were either you pee in front of Sylus or you pee your pants in front of Sylus; both options unfortunately required a sacrifice of your dignity, but one a little more than the other. So you made your choice. 

”Fine, fine. Move!” You tugged him out of the way and sat him on the ground in front of you. 

“We’re sitting now?”

”Yes, we’re sitting! When was the last time you saw a girl pee standing up? You know what, never mind, don’t answer that. Just- face that way.” You planted your hands on his head and turned him towards the wall, attempting to maintain some small semblance of privacy while you went about your business. 

When you were finally sure he wouldn’t peek, you let loose. You didn’t remember the last time using the bathroom ever felt so good, but today, it felt incredible. So incredible that you almost even forgot that there was a 6’2 man sitting on your bathroom floor waiting for you to finish. But, of course, Sylus never stayed quiet for long. There was always a new button to push, a new nerve to unravel. 

As if testing out the new level of intimacy you’d accidentally reached together, he decided to push the boundary even further, because, well, he was fucking Sylus.  “You know, now that we’re in the bathroom, I may as well try to empty my bowels too-”

OH, HE DID NOT JUST- 

“Abso-fucking-lutely not!”

Taglist: @tbaluver @pixelcafe-network

[deadwizardsoci]

i bet the "till was completely fine with everything ivan did and reciprocates his feelings fully, he was just surprised when he was kissed which is why he reacted the way he did" alnst fans clutched their pearls watching karma (if those fans have any media literacy like at all)

i absolutely love my miscommunication tropes. delicious.

i saw someone say that till started to love-admire mizi because they were friends and had a good bond together while, in contrast, his bond with ivan had always been somewhat of a rollercoaster, and i 100% agree with that. ivans inability of expressing his feelings in a healthy way and tills obvious rebellious nature aswell as impulsivity resulted in useless and meaningless fights. then, all of a sudden they were all buddy buddy and hanging out like friends do. it was all obviously incredibly confusing for till, seeing as he bases and diminishes his feelings on someone from what their general relationship looks like (like we see him doing with mizi). obviously, he wouldn't know how to classify his and ivans bond, because as i said some days there was affection, some days there wasnt. because of ivans lack of social awareness, there were some obviously uncomfortable elements in their time together aswell, even if they werent being hostile with one another at the given moment.

this in no way goes to say ivan is "the bad one". all of his issues, aswell as tills, result from a lack of understanding of basic human emotions and needs. having grown up as literal pets for a species that is nowhere close to relating to their issues (and even if they were, unwilling to get all touchy and vulnerable with them and solely treating them as nothing more than what they see them as— entertainment), they'd certainly have trouble dealing with it when their complex emotions inevitably surface. they live and grow with no validation of their feelings, no instructions, nothing, therefore, how could we blame either one for how their relationship turned out?

i personally think till did reciprocate ivans love, maybe even as fiercely as him, but while he tried showing it and, as seen in karma, quite literally pushed his love down till's throat, till decided to keep the distance because he couldn't understand it, didn't know how to deal with it. this of course also doesn't mean he was fine with being kissed. he still didnt know what his feelings for ivan looked like (he had no time to even process them as they'd been so complicated for so long, and he obviously avoids being vulnerable, even within himself), he was in an extremely sensitive place, grieving mizi and on top of it all was the natural panic and fret of his fight or flight to stay alive in such a situation, where death is looking you straight in the eye.

perhaps it was hard to realise seeing as the music and his lyrics kept going, but till's exhaustion (a natural grieving response) overcame him and he eventually gives up. he knows he could die. he knows he will die. but he is simply too exhausted to continue.

ivan notices, and goes over to him not because he sees an opportunity to get revenge, but to lower his own score so till can win either way. he sacrifices himself for his sake. he goes over and forcefully kisses him, even as till pulls away, he keeps going, making the audience think he wants to hurt him. he goes as far as putting his hands on his neck to give the impression he's being strangled aswell, and in the end, his sacrifice is worth. he's not doing it because he wants to, he's doing it so till can win because he loves him.

also would like to say, for the other side of the fandom thats like "ivan is a monster! he made till uncomfortable and wanted to hurt him because he was rejected!", NO BUDDY. ivan's hands are shaking as he goes on to grab him, he's even pressing on the sides of his neck, not forwardly blocking his airway, and even if you missed all of that, HE QUITE LITERALLY GOES ON TO STARE AT THE SCORE AS HE DOES IT. he braces himself to be shot and PULLS AWAY FROM THE KISS AS TO NOT HURT TILL ASWELL. he lets go the very moment blood spills from his mouth, at peace with the thought that till survives. and yeah, obviously till is grabbing at his own neck after 😭 while not fatal, the discomfort was still there, and mixed with the previous panic, it was much more intense.

then, gazing down at ivans body, he understands what his intention truly was.

in the next round, till avenges ivan by trying his best to beat luka. we can see this from his physical desperation, both in body language and expression

he is also on his mind CONSTANTLY. he is grieving a love he didn't even realise he had until it was too late. he quite literally hallucinates luka as ivan the whole time, finally understanding how he loved him.

wild that i have to make this post. its so clear. everything is SO clear. if you paid slightly more attention you could tell so too 😭😭😭

[ilovemarvel97]

In Every Note, I Choose You

Elizabeth Olsen x G!P Reader

Summary: After almost two years being together, Y/N is ready to propose. 

Word Count: 6,739

Warnings: fluff

Series Masterlist || Main Masterlist

---

Y/N hadn’t planned on staying long.

Lizzie was booked the entire day—photoshoot in the morning, press interviews until evening—so Y/N had the rare freedom of a quiet afternoon to herself. No schedule. No studio session. Just a sense of nervous excitement she couldn’t shake.

There was only one place she wanted to go.

The drive to her mom’s house always calmed her. It was a small, cozy home tucked into a quiet neighborhood just outside the city. No paparazzi. No pressure. Just peace—and the warm scent of whatever her mom happened to be baking that day.

She didn’t bother knocking. “Mom?” she called, stepping inside and hanging her coat by the door.

From the kitchen, she heard the familiar clink of dishes and her mother’s voice: “In here, sweetheart! You two are really twins. Your brother just arrived too.”

Y/N blinked in surprise. “Jay’s here?”

Before she could take another step, Jay’s voice called out, “Well, well. If it isn’t the famous one.”

Y/N rounded the corner to find her twin brother sitting at the kitchen island with a half-finished sandwich and a smug grin.

She smirked. “Don’t get jealous just because I have better hair.”

Jay stood up and pulled her into a hug, clapping her back. “Good to see you, troublemaker.”

“I was literally the good twin,” Y/N said with mock offense.

“Were. I’ve seen your stage outfits lately.”

Melissa turned from the stove, beaming at the sight of her kids together. “I’ll leave you two to your nonsense. There’s tea and some of that lemon cake you both like.”

Y/N dropped into the chair next to Jay, her fingers still slightly fidgety. She didn’t even want cake—and she always wanted cake. She was too wired, too full of something unspoken.

“So,” Jay started, eyeing her. “Lizzie doing another shoot today?”

“Yeah. Full day. She won’t be home until late.”

Jay gave her a knowing look. “And you came here for emotional backup or cake?”

“…Both?”

He laughed. “Figured. So what’s up?”

Y/N leaned her elbows on the counter, fingers twisting her rings. “You remember when we were kids, and we used to switch places in school to mess with teachers?”

Jay grinned immediately. “How could I forget? I aced your English quiz, and you tanked my math one.”

“Okay, rude. I got a C-plus. That’s not a tank.”

They both laughed, the kind of laugh that only came from decades of shared stories and childhood scars. Their mom hummed quietly in the background, giving them space, but always listening.

Y/N grew quiet after the laughter faded. She reached into her coat pocket and fingered the box there—small, velvet, impossibly important.

Then she looked at Jay. “Can I ask you something serious?”

He sobered instantly. “Of course.”

“How did you know you wanted to marry Natalie?”

Jay leaned back, brows raising. “That’s out of nowhere.”

Y/N shrugged. “Just… curious.”

He didn’t rush his answer. “I think I always knew she was special. But it was when I realized that being around her made everything else feel quieter. I could just be. You know? And I never felt like I had to earn her love—she just gave it, without conditions. That kind of thing doesn’t come around twice.”

Y/N swallowed, eyes suddenly misty.

“Why?” he asked more softly now. “You thinking about it?”

Without saying anything, she slowly reached into her pocket and set a small velvet box on the counter between them.

Jay’s eyes widened.

Y/N opened it.

The emerald glinted in the kitchen light, deep and brilliant—just like *her* eyes.

Melissa gasped gently from the stove. “Oh, honey…”

“I wasn’t even looking,” Y/N said, voice soft, eyes locked on the ring. “I saw it in this tiny boutique in Paris months ago, and I just knew. I couldn’t stop staring at it. It reminded me of Lizzie’s eyes—the way they look first thing in the morning, when she hasn’t said anything yet, just looking at me like I’m her whole world.”

Jay whistled low. “Damn. That’s beautiful.”

“I’m not nervous,” Y/N continued, still staring at the ring. “I’ve never been more sure of anything in my life. I knew she was the one the second I met her. I just… wanted to tell you both. Wanted to say it out loud to the people who’ve known me the longest.”

Melissa came over and wrapped her arms around her from behind, resting her cheek on Y/N’s shoulder. “I’m so proud of you, baby. You’ve always had a heart that knew exactly where to go.”

Jay reached over and flicked a tear off her cheek with a grin. “So? What’s the plan? Gonna get a skywriter? Hire a flash mob?”

Y/N chuckled. “Not quite. But it will involve candles. And a new song.”

Jay groaned. “God, you’re such a romantic. Natalie’s gonna cry when she hears about this.”

“I hope Lizzie does,” Y/N said quietly, closing the ring box. “Because I mean every word.”

She left the house that afternoon with hugs, love, and her family’s blessing tucked around her like armor.

The ring was still in her coat pocket.

But her heart? That was already with Lizzie.

---

The sun was setting by the time Y/N pulled into the driveway.

She had taken the long way home, music low in the car, fingers grazing the velvet box in her coat pocket over and over. The conversation with her mom and Jay replayed in her head like a chorus. She felt full—of peace, of certainty, of love.

As she unlocked the front door to the home she shared with Lizzie, the scent of something floral and soft hit her first. Peonies? No—whatever it was, it was warm and familiar, like Lizzie’s perfume lingering in the air.

“Hey,” a gentle voice called from the living room. “You’re late.”

Y/N stepped inside, smiling instantly.

Lizzie was curled up on the couch in one of Y/N’s oversized hoodies, makeup washed off, hair up in a lazy bun. She looked relaxed, legs tucked under her, a glass of wine in one hand and the remote in the other.

“You’re home early,” Y/N said as she dropped her keys into the bowl by the door.

Lizzie raised an eyebrow. “You think six p.m. is early after a twelve-hour day?”

Y/N chuckled, walking over to lean down and kiss her on the head. “Touché.”

Lizzie grabbed her wrist gently before she could pull away. “Where were you?”

Y/N hesitated just a second too long.

Lizzie tilted her head. “Hmm?”

“I went to see my mom.”

Lizzie softened. “Everything okay?”

“Yeah. I just… wanted to talk. Jay was there too.”

“Ooh,” Lizzie said playfully. “That must’ve been a chaotic trio. Did your mom survive?”

“Barely,” Y/N grinned.

Lizzie reached out and gently tugged her down onto the couch. “Come here. I missed you today.”

Y/N didn’t hesitate this time. She slid onto the couch, her body fitting naturally against Lizzie’s as Lizzie laid her head on her shoulder.

For a while, they just sat there—cuddled in the dim light of the living room, the sound of some half-watched documentary playing in the background. Lizzie’s hand rested lightly on Y/N’s thigh, tracing soft, lazy circles.

“Did you eat?” Y/N murmured.

“Mmm. Craft services was decent. You?”

“Mom sent me home with lemon cake.”

Lizzie perked up. “You brought me some?”

Y/N grinned. “Some? You weren’t even there!”

“I’m your girlfriend. That means I get half by default.”

“Wow. That’s a bold claim.”

Lizzie looked up at her then—bare-faced, eyes tired but warm, a small smile tugging at the corner of her mouth. “I love you, you know.”

Y/N’s heart swelled.

“I know,” she whispered, brushing a thumb across Lizzie’s cheek. “I love you too.”

So much, it scared her sometimes.

But not tonight.

Tonight, it only filled her to the brim.

She looked down at the woman nestled against her chest and thought, You have no idea what’s coming.

The ring was still in her coat pocket, just a few feet away.

And in just a few days, she'd ask the most important question of her life.

---

A Few Days Later – Dinner at the Olsen House

Dinner at Lizzie’s mom’s place was always a bit of organized chaos—and tonight was no exception.

With Ashley and Mary-Kate both in town, the Olsen household was full of overlapping conversations, glasses clinking, and the kind of laughter that could only come from siblings who knew each other inside out. The food was rich and homey—stuffed pasta shells, roasted vegetables, and a pear and goat cheese salad that Y/N couldn’t stop raving about.

“Seriously,” she said between bites, leaning toward Jarnette at the head of the table, “if you ever release a cookbook, I’ll be your first customer.”

Jarnette smiled, brushing off the compliment but clearly pleased. “Well, if I ever slow down long enough to write one, you’ll get the first copy—signed.”

Lizzie nudged Y/N from beside her with a smirk. “You’re just saying that because she did the dishes last time.”

“I’m trying to earn points,” Y/N murmured into her wine glass.

After dinner, Ashley and Mary-Kate pulled Lizzie away into the living room, all of them talking over each other as they settled into the couch with tea and a tray of cookies.

Y/N rose from her seat, collecting a few empty plates. “I’ll help clean up.”

Jarnette was already stacking dishes. “You don’t have to, sweetheart.”

“I want to.”

Y/N followed her into the kitchen, rolling up her sleeves. The clink of plates and the rush of warm water filled the silence as they settled into the easy rhythm of rinsing and drying. Y/N glanced once toward the living room where Lizzie was laughing at something Ashley had said—her smile relaxed, her head thrown back.

Her heart ached in the best way.

“Mama J?” Y/N said softly, setting down a plate and wiping her hands.

Jarnette turned slightly, brow lifted, sensing a shift in the air.

Y/N reached into the pocket of her jacket draped over a nearby chair and pulled out the ring box.

She opened it slowly, revealing the emerald nestled inside—rich, deep green with a subtle sparkle under the kitchen light.

“What do you think?” she asked gently. “What do you think, Mama J?”

Jarnette blinked, taken by surprise—but the kind of surprise that warmed into emotion quickly. She leaned in, gaze lingering on the ring, lips parting slightly in awe.

“It’s beautiful,” she said after a beat. “It’s... her.”

“That’s what I thought too,” Y/N said, a little breathless. “I wasn’t even planning it when I found it. But I saw this and… I saw her eyes. The way they look when she wakes up beside me. The way they sparkle when she’s excited, or when she’s about to cry at a movie.”

Jarnette smiled, eyes now shining just a little. “You love her so much.”

Y/N nodded. “With everything I’ve got.”

“She’s never looked as happy as she has since you came into her life,” Jarnette said quietly. “I mean that. You’ve given her something steady. Something soft.”

Y/N’s throat tightened.

“I’m not doing it tonight,” she clarified, closing the box gently. “But soon. Everything’s already planned. I just—wanted to tell you first. Because I know how much she looks up to you. And I… I wanted your blessing.”

Jarnette placed her hand over Y/N’s without hesitation. “You have it. Fully. I’d be honored to call you family.”

Y/N smiled, a little overwhelmed. “Thank you. That means the world to me.”

They stood there in the kitchen, the hum of the dishwasher behind them, the faint sound of Lizzie laughing from the next room. It was a quiet moment—but Y/N knew she’d remember it forever.

She slipped the ring back into her coat pocket just as Lizzie peeked her head around the corner.

“Hey,” Lizzie said. “Are you hiding from me?”

“Never,” Y/N grinned, grabbing a towel. “Just charming your mom.”

“Well, stop charming her and come eat cookies.”

Y/N winked at Jarnette before following Lizzie out of the kitchen, heart a little lighter, one step closer.

---

Lizzie’s POV – That Same Evening

Lizzie loved having her sisters in town.

It didn’t happen often—Ashley was always somewhere coastal, and Mary-Kate had made Europe her second home—but when they did get together, it was like flipping a switch. No matter how long it had been, the rhythm returned instantly: teasing, finishing each other’s sentences, poking old wounds just enough to laugh at them.

She was curled up between them now on the couch, a blanket across her knees, a warm mug in her hand, and laughter buzzing in her chest.

“You’re glowing,” Ashley teased, nudging her with her elbow.

“I am not.”

“You are,” Mary-Kate said, narrowing her eyes. “It’s the ‘I’m in love and life is good’ glow.”

Lizzie smirked, sipping her tea to hide the blush rising in her cheeks. “I can’t help it if I’m happy.”

“You’re more than happy,” Ashley added, wiggling her brows. “You’re in it.”

“I’ve been in it,” Lizzie said, unable to keep the smile off her face. “Since the first week.”

Both her sisters looked at her knowingly, and Lizzie let her head fall back against the couch cushion.

“It’s just…” she sighed, softer now. “I feel safe with her. Like I can actually breathe. Like I don’t have to perform, even when everything else is noise.”

Mary-Kate touched her knee. “That’s how you know.”

Lizzie stared into the steam rising from her mug. She didn’t want to jinx it, but the truth was—she’d been feeling something shifting between them lately. Not distance. Just… a stillness. Like the sky before a first snowfall.

Y/N had been thoughtful lately. More quiet. She’d vanish for an afternoon, come back with stars in her eyes. She’d look at Lizzie a little too long when she thought she wasn’t watching. And when they were in bed, she held her just a little tighter.

It wasn’t fear. It wasn’t doubt.

It was love, thick and full and right on the edge of something more.

Lizzie looked toward the kitchen. She could hear faint water running, a cabinet closing, and her mom’s voice—soft, low, impossible to make out.

Y/N had offered to help clean up, and Lizzie didn’t miss how quick she’d volunteered. Her Y/N, always charming, always eager to pitch in. But also… kind of suspicious.

“You think she’s in there sweet-talking Mom for intel on my childhood?” Lizzie asked.

Ashley grinned. “Or maybe asking for embarrassing stories.”

Mary-Kate leaned her head back. “Or maybe she’s just being sweet.”

Lizzie bit her lip.

Maybe.

Still…

She turned her head and peeked toward the kitchen doorway—just as Y/N emerged, drying her hands with a towel, cheeks a little flushed, eyes flicking briefly to Jarnette, who smiled quietly behind her.

Something in Lizzie’s stomach fluttered.

She sat up straighter. “Hey,” she called. “Are you hiding from me?”

Y/N’s grin was instant. “Never. Just charming your mom.”

Lizzie narrowed her eyes playfully. “Again?”

“Can you blame me?” Y/N winked.

Her sisters giggled beside her, but Lizzie couldn’t stop staring. She didn’t know what Y/N had said in that kitchen. But she knew this—something was coming.

And whatever it was, it felt like love.

It felt like forever.

---

A Week Before ‘The Day’

Y/N was late again.

It was nearly 11:30 when the front door clicked shut. Lizzie didn’t move from where she sat curled up on the couch, her laptop glowing in her lap, but she heard the familiar sound of boots being slipped off and a bag being set down gently by the door. Like always, Y/N was trying not to wake her.

“I’m up,” Lizzie called quietly.

She didn’t mean for it to sound cold. But it came out distant. Hollow.

Y/N poked her head around the corner, sheepish. “Hey. Sorry I’m late. Studio ran over.”

“Again,” Lizzie said, not looking away from her screen.

Y/N’s smile faltered. “Yeah. It’s almost done though.”

“That’s good,” Lizzie replied, typing something just to have her hands moving. “You’ve been spending a lot of time on it.”

There was a pause before Y/N nodded. “Yeah. I want it to be… right.”

Lizzie forced a tight smile. “Of course.”

Y/N didn’t say more. She just crossed the room and leaned down to kiss the top of Lizzie’s head, her lips soft and warm against her hair. Then she disappeared into the bedroom.

Lizzie didn’t follow right away.

---

Over the next few days, the pattern continued.

Late nights. Soft apologies. Quick pecks. And always the same explanation—“studio.”

Y/N wasn’t cold. If anything, she was still sweet—maybe even sweeter. But something was… off. Like she was holding her breath around Lizzie, like her mind was always somewhere else. And Lizzie didn’t know what to do with that.

She tried not to overthink it. She tried to trust. But late at night, when she rolled over and found only the empty side of the bed, her mind filled in the gaps with fear.

What if Y/N wasn’t happy anymore?

What if something had changed?

---

She brought it up to Mary-Kate on the phone a few nights later.

“She’s distracted,” Lizzie said, sitting on the floor by the bedroom window, hugging her knees to her chest. “And I don’t know what she’s working on. She won’t tell me anything. Not even a hint.”

“She’s an artist,” Mary-Kate said gently. “You know how it is. Sometimes we disappear into things. Maybe she just wants to surprise you.”

“But that’s the thing—she doesn’t hide anything from me,” Lizzie said. “We’ve always been open. And now she’s just… closed off. She disappears into the studio and comes home exhausted. I don’t even know what she’s writing anymore. What if it’s not about me?”

Mary-Kate hesitated, then said softly, “Do you think there’s someone else?”

The question made Lizzie flinch. “No. God, no. I don’t think she’d ever—”

“But you’re scared,” Mary-Kate finished for her.

Lizzie swallowed hard, eyes burning.

“Yeah,” she whispered. “I am.”

---

That night, Y/N came home past midnight.

Lizzie was pretending to sleep, but her heart was thudding hard in her chest as Y/N tiptoed into the bedroom. The scent of her—faint cologne, warm vinyl, a little sweat from long hours—wrapped around Lizzie like a blanket she couldn’t pull close enough.

Y/N undressed in the dark and climbed into bed behind her, spooning her gently, arms slipping around her waist.

Lizzie’s eyes stayed open.

“I love you,” Y/N whispered against her neck.

Lizzie didn’t respond.

Not because she didn’t believe it.

But because some small, cruel part of her was starting to wonder if maybe the person she loved most was slipping away—and she wouldn’t even know why.

---

Y/N’s POV – Three Days Before

The studio was dark, quiet—only the low hum of the speakers still buzzing as the final note of the track faded.

Y/N sat there in the sound booth, still, breath caught in her chest. Headphones slid off her ears, but she didn’t move. The silence after music always hit differently—especially when it meant something was done.

Really done.

The song was finished.

It had taken weeks. Every lyric carved out of her chest, every harmony layered with care. She’d rewritten the second verse three times before finally deciding to keep the original because—it was her. It was them.

The melody swelled around the moment they met. The bridge cracked with vulnerability. The final chorus? It was a promise.

Y/N had never written anything like it.

And Lizzie hadn’t heard a single note.

She closed her laptop and stood, heart pounding harder now than when she’d recorded the vocals. Everything else was already ready—the vineyard reservation, the lighting, the table under the olive trees, the string quartet waiting for their cue. Even the dress code had been quietly arranged with the help of Ashley, who swore she’d get Lizzie in the perfect outfit without tipping her off.

Now all Y/N needed… was time.

---

Two Days Before

She got home around 10:45 that night, humming the chorus under her breath as she stepped through the front door. She didn’t expect fanfare—but she didn’t expect cold silence either.

The lights were still on in the living room. Lizzie sat on the couch, arms crossed, face unreadable. She didn’t turn her head when Y/N walked in.

“Hey, baby,” Y/N said softly, dropping her bag by the door. “Sorry I’m late again. I just finished the—”

Lizzie stood up.

“You said that last time,” she said flatly.

Y/N blinked, pausing mid-step. “What?”

“You said it was almost done. Days ago.”

“I know. It just—tonight was the last touch. I wanted it to be perfect.”

“For what?” Lizzie asked, voice rising just slightly. “What are you even working on that you can’t tell me about? You come home past ten almost every night this week, barely look at me, and now I’m just supposed to pretend everything’s fine?”

Y/N’s heart dropped. “Liz—”

“Don’t Liz me,” she cut in, voice trembling now. “I know you say you love me, but lately it feels like I’m not even part of your life. It feels like I’m waiting for the other shoe to drop. Like you’re preparing to leave me.”

Y/N stepped forward quickly. “No—no, God, Lizzie, never. I’m not going anywhere.”

“Then why are you shutting me out?”

There it was. Her voice cracked at the end of it, all the softness behind the anger finally spilling through.

Y/N crossed the distance between them and gently took her hands, her voice trembling now too.

“I’m not shutting you out. I promise. I’ve just… been working on something important. Something for you. And I couldn’t show you yet because it’s a surprise. But it’s not bad. It’s the opposite of bad.”

Lizzie stared at her, eyes rimmed with hurt. “Then why do I feel like I’m losing you?”

Y/N cupped her face, gently tilting her chin. “You’re not. You couldn’t. I’ve been pouring my heart into something for us. Every minute I was gone, I was thinking about you. I swear.”

Lizzie searched her eyes for a long moment. Then, quieter, more guarded, “Is it something I should be worried about?”

Y/N shook her head immediately. “No. But… I do want to ask you something.”

Lizzie’s brows furrowed.

Y/N’s lips curled softly. “Not tonight. Soon. But first… I want to take you away. Just the two of us. This weekend.”

Lizzie’s voice was wary. “A weekend?”

“A ‘mental health break,’” Y/N said gently. “We’ll leave Friday. Just trust me, okay?”

Lizzie looked at her for a long moment, and Y/N could practically see the battle behind her eyes—hurt, confusion, and that guarded tenderness she wore when she wasn’t sure what to believe.

Finally, she exhaled. “Fine. But I want to know everything eventually.”

Y/N kissed her forehead, lips lingering there.

“You will,” she whispered. “More than you know.”

---

Lizzie’s POV – Friday Morning

Lizzie woke to the sound of movement in the kitchen.

The sun had just barely started to peek through the curtains, casting soft lines of gold across the bed. Y/N wasn’t beside her. The sheets on her side were still warm, slightly rumpled, and Lizzie reached out to touch them before she even opened her eyes fully.

Part of her wanted to pull the blanket over her head and stay there—safe in the half-sleep, where things didn’t feel so tangled. But curiosity won out.

She sat up, stretching quietly, then slipped into one of Y/N’s old shirts and padded barefoot down the hall.

In the kitchen, Y/N was packing a small cooler with snacks. A thermos sat next to it. She was moving around with that particular kind of focused energy she always had when she was preparing for something that mattered—an interview, a show, a big performance.

Lizzie leaned against the doorway. “Are we going on tour or just a weekend trip?”

Y/N looked up quickly, and her face lit up the way it always did when she saw Lizzie—like nothing else in the world existed. “Hey, you’re up.”

“Barely.”

“I was gonna bring you coffee in bed.”

Lizzie arched an eyebrow. “That’s suspiciously romantic.”

Y/N walked over and kissed her lips, arms sliding loosely around her waist. “Maybe I just missed you.”

“You saw me eight hours ago.”

Y/N grinned. “Still.”

Lizzie looked up at her, eyes scanning her expression. She could tell Y/N had barely slept—there was a tiredness around her eyes, but underneath it was… excitement? Nerves?

“Where are we going again?” Lizzie asked. “You’ve been annoyingly vague.”

“You’ll see when we get there,” Y/N said with a teasing smile. “Just pack comfy clothes, and maybe one dress you like. Something flowy.”

Lizzie squinted. “Something flowy? Y/N, if you take me to a surprise wedding I swear to God—”

Y/N burst out laughing. “Relax. No secret weddings. Just... a weekend of peace. Quiet. You and me. I promise.”

Lizzie wanted to believe her. She really did. And maybe she was being too sensitive—but Y/N had been acting so strange lately. All these late nights, the constant deflections, and now this sudden romantic getaway?

Still, she couldn’t deny that when Y/N looked at her, when she held her like that, it didn’t feel like a goodbye.

It felt like something else.

Something bigger.

Something... waiting.

She pulled away gently. “Okay. I’ll go pack my ‘flowy’ dress.”

Y/N kissed her temple. “Thank you.”

“For trusting you?”

“For loving me,” Y/N murmured.

Lizzie blinked, surprised by the sudden weight in her voice. But before she could say anything, Y/N was already heading back to her bags, pretending not to notice the flicker of confusion in her eyes.

Lizzie watched her quietly.

There was definitely something in the air. She didn’t know what—but whatever it was, it was coming.

And soon.

---

Lizzie’s POV – Friday Afternoon

They’d been driving for a few hours.

The roads had grown quieter, narrower, the city fading behind them like an old memory. Now, rolling hills stretched out in every direction—soft greens and golds under a wide-open sky. The sun was beginning its slow descent, casting the world in that honey-colored light Lizzie always secretly adored.

“Where are we?” she asked as she leaned forward in her seat, scanning the endless rows of grapevines beyond the windshield.

Y/N glanced over, smiling softly. “You’ll see.”

Lizzie exhaled through her nose, amused despite herself. “You and your secrets lately…”

They turned off onto a private gravel road flanked by cypress trees, winding gently uphill. Lizzie’s brows furrowed as the car rounded a final curve and a stunning old vineyard estate came into view. Stone walls. Clay-tiled roofs. Terraced gardens and rows upon rows of vines glinting in the sun.

Y/N pulled up to a small secluded guesthouse tucked behind the main villa. Everything looked impossibly picturesque—straight out of a romantic film.

“This is where we’re staying?” Lizzie asked quietly.

Y/N nodded, parking the car. “All weekend. Just us.”

Lizzie blinked, almost caught off guard. “It’s… beautiful.”

Y/N unbuckled her seatbelt and turned to face her. “Good. You deserve beautiful.”

There was something about the way she said it—so sincere, so full of intent—that Lizzie had to look away for a moment.

They grabbed their bags, and as they stepped out of the car, a soft breeze lifted through the vines. The scent of lavender and ripe grapes hung in the air. Somewhere in the distance, she could hear water—maybe a fountain, maybe a stream.

Y/N opened the door to the guesthouse and stepped aside, letting Lizzie walk in first.

The interior was breathtaking—light, airy, rustic with soft linens and golden wood. Candles lined the mantle. A small handwritten note in Y/N’s scrawl was left on the bed.

Take your time. Sunset’s waiting.

Lizzie turned slowly toward her, her heart already skipping.

“Okay…” she said cautiously, eyes narrowing playfully. “This is not a mental health break. What are you doing?”

Y/N stepped forward, gently taking the bag from Lizzie’s shoulder. “Nothing crazy. I just wanted to give you something quiet. Just you and me, no cameras. No noise.”

Lizzie studied her face. Y/N looked both calm and jittery—like someone who had been carrying a secret so carefully for too long and was nearly ready to lay it down.

Still, Lizzie nodded slowly. “Okay. Then I’ll shut up and enjoy it.”

Y/N smiled, brushing a kiss against her cheek. “Change into something you feel good in. I’ll meet you outside in a little bit.”

Lizzie raised an eyebrow. “Are we going somewhere?”

Y/N only smiled, then slipped back out the door, leaving Lizzie standing in the quiet room with a strange flutter in her chest.

She looked toward the window.

The sun was sinking now, low and golden. The vines were glowing.

Something was coming.

She just didn’t know what.

Not yet.

---

Lizzie’s POV – Sunset

She changed into a soft linen dress—the kind she usually saved for beach getaways or lazy Sundays with Y/N. Flowing, light, cream-colored with delicate straps and just enough fabric to dance in, if dancing were ever to happen.

She didn’t know why, but her hands shook slightly as she pulled her hair back loosely. Her chest was tight with something unspoken. Something building.

Y/N hadn’t told her anything, not really—but the way she looked at her lately, the way she moved, the softness in her voice—it all told Lizzie something was coming.

And it was coming now.

She stepped outside onto the stone path, following the small string lights that had been wound carefully around the olive trees. The path curved gently past a low vineyard wall and opened into a quiet clearing where a small table was set for two. A private dinner under the sky. Candles. Wildflowers. Two glasses of wine.

And there—standing in the middle of it all—was Y/N.

She’d changed into a simple, elegant black suit. No tie. Collar slightly open. Hair tousled just enough to be dangerous.

Lizzie’s breath caught.

“You look…” Y/N started, eyes raking over her, smile breaking. “Like every lyric I ever tried to write before you.”

Lizzie blinked rapidly. “You’re really pulling out the lines tonight, huh?”

“I’m nervous.”

Lizzie paused. “Why?”

But Y/N didn’t answer.

She just shook her head and stepped closer, reaching out, her palm up, wordless.

Lizzie hesitated only a second before placing her hand in Y/N’s.

And the moment she did, Y/N gently tugged her forward—closer, until Lizzie’s chest met hers—and kissed her.

Not softly.

Deeply.

With all the words she wasn’t saying yet.

Lizzie melted into it, her hands curling into Y/N’s jacket, her eyes fluttering shut. The world disappeared in that kiss, in that warmth, in that familiar mouth that somehow always felt like home.

When they finally pulled apart, breathless, Lizzie blinked up at her, dazed. “What was that for?”

Y/N smiled and whispered against her lips, “That one was for me.”

Her eyes lingered on Lizzie’s face as she added, just a touch hoarse, “You look absolutely beautiful.”

Lizzie’s cheeks burned, and for the first time all day, her heart settled. Something about the way Y/N looked at her—like she was memorizing the moment—eased her nerves.

Y/N slid an arm around her waist and guided her toward the table, pulling out her chair like the perfect gentleman. Lizzie sat down, a little breathless still, smoothing her dress.

The moment her napkin was in her lap, two servers quietly emerged from behind the trees, placing the first course in front of them—heirloom tomato tartlets with whipped feta and microgreens, paired with a chilled white wine.

Lizzie glanced across the table at Y/N, who raised her glass slightly, her smile crooked and nervous.

“To you,” Y/N said softly.

Lizzie clinked her glass against hers.

“To us.”

The meal began.

But the real feast?

That was still to come.

---

It was, without a doubt, the most thoughtful dinner Lizzie had ever experienced.

Every course was tailored to her favorites—from the wild mushroom risotto with truffle shavings to the arugula and peach salad that reminded her of their first trip to Italy. Even the dessert—a warm chocolate soufflé with raspberry coulis—was the one she'd once joked about wanting as her last meal.

She had laughed through most of it, caught between teasing Y/N and trying not to cry at how *seen* she felt. Every bite tasted like a memory.

“I can’t believe you remembered that I like basil with stone fruits,” she’d said, narrowing her eyes at Y/N across the table.

Y/N only smirked. “Of course I did. You lectured the waiter for five minutes about it that night in Napa.”

Lizzie rolled her eyes. “That was *one time.*”

“You were very passionate,” Y/N said with a grin, sipping her wine. “It was adorable.”

By the time dessert was finished and Lizzie leaned back in her chair, full and glowing from wine, laughter, and love, she was ready to melt into the moment completely.

Then the candlelight shifted.

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw a server approaching the table again—not with another course, but with something else in his hands.

A guitar.

He handed it gently to Y/N, who stood slowly and nodded her thanks.

Lizzie sat up straighter, heart skipping.

Y/N met her eyes with that look—that same quiet, reverent look she'd had the night they first said I love you and every morning since, when she thought Lizzie was still asleep.

“I have one more thing for you,” Y/N said, fingers wrapping around the fretboard. “Something I’ve been working on for a while.”

Lizzie’s lips parted, but she couldn’t speak.

Y/N adjusted the strap over her shoulder, walked a few feet closer, and sat down on the edge of the low stone wall across from her. The vineyard spread behind her in soft, golden twilight. The string lights swayed gently above.

And then—

She played.

Soft at first. Just a hum of strings. Then the first verse, quiet and steady, like a secret Y/N had been keeping in her chest too long. Her voice trembled slightly but never wavered.

The lyrics were undeniably personal.

The way they met.

The way Lizzie’s laugh filled a room before she even entered it.

The way her hand felt in Y/N’s for the first time.

How love crept in gently—and stayed.

The second verse cracked Lizzie open.

“I built this song from quiet things,

your sleepy sighs, your wedding dreams.

If I could write you into time,

I’d never need another rhyme.”

Tears rolled freely down Lizzie’s cheeks now.

She couldn’t even wipe them away. She just… felt them.

When the final chorus began, Y/N stood up slowly, the guitar now quiet, still hanging over her shoulder. She reached into her pocket and pulled something small and familiar—a velvet box Lizzie somehow knew before it even opened.

Her breath caught.

Y/N’s voice shook. “Elizabeth Chase Olsen…”

She stepped closer.

“I’ve loved you from the moment you sat across from me and asked if I wanted to share fries even though you already ordered your own.”

Lizzie laughed through a sob.

“I’ve loved you in every quiet moment, every loud fight, every night I came home and found you wearing my hoodie and drinking tea like you owned the whole damn world. And I want to keep loving you like that. For the rest of my life.”

She opened the box.

The emerald glinted like a secret only they shared.

“Will you marry me?”

The tears didn’t stop. Lizzie blinked through them, eyes locked on the ring, then up at Y/N’s trembling face.

She was already nodding.

“Yes,” she whispered, then louder. “Yes.”

Y/N’s whole body exhaled. She stepped forward, slipped the ring onto Lizzie’s finger with shaking hands, then kissed her—deep, smiling against her lips, and maybe crying too.

They didn’t hear the quiet clapping of the staff in the distance.

They didn’t notice the lights around them grow a little warmer.

They just held onto each other.

In the middle of a vineyard.

Under the stars.

With a song still echoing in the air.

And forever beginning right now.

---

Lizzie’s POV – The Next Morning

Sunlight poured through the curtains like honey.

Gentle. Golden. The kind of light that didn’t demand you wake up—it just invited you to exist.

Lizzie stirred slowly, the sheets warm and tangled around her legs, her bare skin pressed against softer skin beside her. The room was quiet, save for the soft rustling of the breeze and the even sound of Y/N’s breathing.

She blinked open her eyes.

Y/N was still asleep.

On her back, hair messy across the pillow, one arm loosely draped over Lizzie’s waist like her body refused to let go even in sleep. The other was tucked beneath the sheets, rising and falling with her steady chest.

Lizzie didn’t move—didn’t want to. She just let herself exist in that moment, half-draped over the woman she loved, completely bare.

Except for one thing.

Her eyes drifted down to her hand resting gently against Y/N’s ribs.

The ring.

That delicate, deep emerald—so vivid in the morning light it almost didn’t seem real. But it was. It was there. Solid. Warm from her skin. Her heart thudded gently at the sight of it.

Fiancée.

That word hadn’t quite settled yet. It felt both enormous and completely natural.

Her lips curled into a small, private smile. She shifted slightly, just enough to lay her head on Y/N’s shoulder, her nose brushing against the curve of her neck.

She breathed her in.

God, she loved her.

Y/N murmured something in her sleep, shifting just a little, but didn’t wake. Lizzie watched her—lids fluttering, lashes brushing against her cheeks, lips slightly parted. Her face was relaxed in a way it rarely was during the day. Like every part of her had finally exhaled.

Lizzie reached up and gently brushed a piece of hair from her forehead.

“You have no idea how much I love you,” she whispered.

She didn’t need a response.

Just being there—skin to skin, heart to heart, with forever on her finger and Y/N’s arm around her—was enough.

She closed her eyes again, sinking deeper into her warmth, letting the morning hold them in its quiet promise.

No rush. No noise.

Just them.

Y/N stirred with a faint hum, her nose brushing against Lizzie’s hair as she shifted sleepily. Her arm tightened a little, pulling Lizzie closer against her chest.

“Mmm… morning,” she mumbled, voice low and raspy from sleep.

Lizzie smiled, eyes still closed. “Hi.”

There was a pause, and then a long, soft exhale. “Still real?”

Lizzie lifted her hand slightly, letting the sunlight catch the emerald again. “Still real.”

Y/N nosed at her temple, her lips brushing the side of Lizzie’s face before she dropped her head back on the pillow with a lazy, content sigh. “God, I love you.”

“I know,” Lizzie whispered, curl into her chest even more.

Y/N immediately wrapped her up tighter, one strong thigh sliding between Lizzie’s legs, her hand resting low on her back.

They stayed like that for a moment—breathing each other in, the world still a million miles away.

Then Lizzie shifted again… and frowned slightly.

She wiggled.

Frowned more.

Y/N’s eyes opened halfway. “What?”

Lizzie pressed her hand between them, suspicious. “There’s something poking my thigh.”

Y/N blinked. Then smirked. “Uh-oh.”

Lizzie tilted her head and gave her a look.

Y/N raised a hand like she was swearing an oath. “It’s not my fault. You’re naked. You’re warm. You’re wearing my ring.”

Lizzie laughed, pressing her face into Y/N’s neck to muffle the sound. “I can’t believe this is how we’re starting our first full day as fiancées.”

Y/N grinned. “You say that like it’s a bad thing.”

They both burst into laughter, the kind that came from deep in their stomachs, full and real and unfiltered. Lizzie ended up half on top of Y/N, still tangled in sheets, still flushed from giggling and everything that came before.

And as she looked down at her, that ring glinting again between them, she swore—she’d never seen anything more beautiful than this moment.

Y/N reached up and brushed a strand of hair from Lizzie’s cheek. “So… breakfast in bed, or round two?”

Lizzie grinned, kissed her nose, and whispered, “Yes.”

To which part, she didn’t say.

But the answer was the same.

To all of it.

---

Leave your thoughts in the comment!

[hyuckiefluff]

casual pt 2 | mark lee

pairing: idol! mark lee x fem.reader genre: fluff, smut, angst wc: 9.6k summary: you fell for mark lee through blurry facetime calls and late-night voice notes, but when the distance starts causing a strain in the relationship, you board a plane to seoul with nothing but a suitcase and a heart that won’t stop beating for him. content warnings: 18+ explicit sexual content, phone-sex, oral (fem. receiving), protected sex, explicit language, long-distance relationship stress, idol pressures, light alcohol consumption, mentions of food & brief mention of disordered eating habits (skipping meals due to stress), tooth rotting domestic fluff. a/n: here it is finally!! i cannot believe i told myself this would take less time than my hogwarts fics and it ended up taking me LONGER 😭 and it’s not even that long so i was 100% just procrastinating. BUT GUYS. i freaking love mark in this because i literally wrote it the way i imagine a relationship with him would be and like… fawk. i want this life so bad. mark give me one chance juseyoooo. anyways, hope u enjoy <3 also! tiny author suggestion: listen to turning page by sleeping at last during the final scene if you wanna fully immerse yourself.

ps: divider by kodaswrld

Another practice room light flickered out down the hallway, and with it the building finally emptied out. Mark was the last one there again.

He peeled off his in-ears, let them dangle around his neck, and flopped backward onto the studio floor. Sweat slicked the vinyl under his shoulder blades. His hoodie had been abandoned somewhere near the mirrors, but he was still running hot, humming with the choreo that refused to leave his muscles even after twelve straight run-throughs.

His manager would murder him if he was late to call time tomorrow, but his brain was nowhere near sleep. It was too busy spinning in the familiar orbit it had fallen into every night for months: you.

Mark fished his phone out of his joggers and opened the last message he had sent hours ago.

on my way to rehearsal. i think you’re gonna love our new song :)

No reply.

He exhaled through his nose. You were probably not awake yet. The quiet between messages always managed to feel personal after a tiring day like this. He scrolled up anyway, re-reading pieces of your conversation. There was a blurry photo of your family’s cat sitting on a stack of Murakami paperbacks. His own late-night voice memo humming a chorus that didn’t have lyrics yet.

The memory of your laugh shoved its way in, uninvited and perfect. Mark shut his eyes. For a second it was easy to pretend the fluorescent hum overhead was your apartment’s old fridge, that the scuffed practice floor was the couch where you’d sit while you argued about pineapple on pizza during video calls.

Mark opened his eyes before the fantasy got too good, pushed up onto his elbows, and grabbed the half-empty water bottle beside him. As he drank, a few texts from his manager pinged through. Mostly schedule changes, wardrobe notes, and a reminder to ice his knee. He swiped them away and pulled up the blank chat bubble with your name again.

Type something, Mark. Anything.

The rehearsal room clock read 01:39 a.m. That was—what, mid-morning for you? You would probably be getting up, maybe grabbing coffee before heading out to work. He pictured you in that oversized cardigan you loved, eyes squinting at your phone because you’d forgotten to put on your contact lenses again.

The thought kicked his pulse into a sprint.

Before he could think, he started typing.

hey, i can’t sleep. just finished practice.random question: if you could teleport for exactly 10 minutes, where would you go?

Mark stared at the message. Too weird? He was about to unsend it when the typing indicator popped up on your side. His chest cinched.

jiwon says i should pick somewhere romantic so i don’t waste the free trip lol. maybe the han river at sunset? i’ve never been.why, where would you go?

He pictured you on the couch, eyes bright, seriously discussing such a silly question with Jiwon the way he probably would have done with Haechan.

His fingers moved before he could overthink.

wherever you are. ten minutes is enough to steal a hug right?

A second passed, and then the dots appeared again.

bold, lee. i like it.also i’d tackle-hug you so it might be nine minutes of us laughing on the floor, hope that’s okay

Mark’s face broke into an idiotic grin. Sleep was officially lost.

He pushed up, snagged his hoodie, and headed for the door, phone still glowing in his hand while your next bubble popped up.

anyway, go shower before you catch a cold. text me when you’re safe in bed

He stared at the screen, thumb hovering.

deal. goodnight for now ;) p.s. you just gave me lyric ideas. hope you don’t mind being a muse

Mark pocketed the phone, heart drumming a new beat that had nothing to do with choreography, and jogged toward the dorms, already humming the melody you had just sparked to life.

He stepped into the night, sweat chilling under his hoodie, headphones pulled over his ears as the city noise swallowed him up. Seoul at two in the morning felt almost peaceful, all the rush muted, and he could finally hear his own thoughts again which was dangerous territory, but better than silence.

There was a bounce in his step he couldn’t explain, even with his knee twinging and his bones begging for a hot shower. All he could think about was your messages, how you always managed to make him feel like a regular guy, not the name thousands of people screamed at concerts.

By the time he was back at the dorm, the lights were low, but Haechan’s voice filtered down the hall—arguing with Johnny about leftovers or LoL or something equally stupid. He slipped off his shoes, tiptoed past the noise, and ducked into the bathroom before anyone could spot him.

Steam billowed as Mark stood under the shower, letting it pound against tired muscles. He replayed your conversation again, grinning at nothing, mouthing the words he had typed, imagining them as lyrics already.

wherever you are. ten minutes is enough to steal a hug right?

He said it again, quieter, letting the steam swallow the edges. Would he actually do it—show up to your door, wrap you up, laugh until his sides hurt and the world faded out? God, he would.

He toweled off, tossed on some sweatpants, and flopped onto his bed. His phone buzzed just as his head hit the pillow.

i hope you’re actually resting and not writing a sad song about me being halfway across the planet

Mark smirked, typing back.

not sad i promise. i’ll probably finish it tonight #insomnia

Your reply hit after a few seconds.

:( insomnia is beating my ass too.i’m sure it’s gonna be cute tho. i wanna listen

He couldn’t help it when a laugh came out, soft and breathless, afraid to wake the others. He wished he could call you, but you were probably heading to work now.

Still, he opened his voice notes and hummed the chorus that had been haunting him. The words fit better now that you’d given him the missing piece. He knew it was corny, but he didn’t care. This was the part they didn’t see, the part that made him want to risk all the rules, just for a few more minutes like this.

He’d been working on a song for weeks now—sometimes he called it “loser,” sometimes he sang it like “lose her.” It started as a joke lyric, a throwaway, but it kept coming back. The words were different every night, but the chorus always landed on you.

i don’t wanna loseri don’t wanna lose her

He hit send without thinking.

for you. don’t laugh if it sucks.

Seconds passed while Mark stared at the phone. The little read indicator popped up almost immediately.

…i love it(and i’m definitely saving this in my secret folder)

He buried his face in his pillow, his pulse racing.

Johnny’s voice floated in from the hallway, half-annoyed. “Mark! You sleeping or composing another heartbreak song in there?”

He shouted back, “Go to bed, hyung!”

Johnny laughed, the door creaking as he walked away. “Don’t blame me when you’re a zombie tomorrow.”

Mark grinned, pulling the blanket over his head and letting his mind drift back to you. He pictured your smile, the shy way you looked away when you were flustered, that little laugh he wanted to hear in person, not just through a phone speaker.

For the first time in days, Mark actually felt sleepy—in a good way. He let the tiredness take him, already counting down the hours until he could text you again.

Soon enough, both of you fell back into your natural rhythm. With calls coming more often, you were back to sharing every little moment of your day.

Practice had ended hours ago, but the thrum of bass still vibrated in Mark’s bones as he padded into the dorm kitchen for a bottle of water. He thumbed his phone, opened your chat, and hovered over the call button. It was late, but the lingering jet lag plus rehearsals meant he didn’t have a normal sleep cycle anyway. He just wanted to hear your voice for thirty seconds, maybe a minute.

He tapped FaceTime before he could talk himself out of it.

The tone rang twice, three times, then connected.

Steam clouded the camera lens first, followed by a startled gasp. You stood in your bathroom, hair dripping, wrapped in nothing but a white towel knotted above your chest. Water beaded across your collarbones, and you were half-laughing, half-mortified as you fumbled with the phone.

“Mark! Give me a sec—”

His throat closed. “I—I’m so sorry! I didn’t think—I’ll call later—”

“You’re fine, just—” You shifted, the towel slipping a centimeter lower.

Mark’s brain short-circuited. “S—sorry! Talk later!” He hit End so fast his thumb stung, then flopped onto his mattress with a hammering heart.

For a full minute, he stared at the ceiling, willing himself to breathe normally. It didn’t help. The image was branded behind his eyelids: your damp hair, flushed cheeks, a single droplet tracking down the slope of your chest.

Great. Now his pulse was pounding in the wrong place.

He rolled onto his side, pillow over his face, trying to think of choreography counts to distract his brain from sending all the blood to his groin. Instead, all he could hear was the soft gasp you made, all he could see was the towel sliding down—

A frustrated groan slipped out. Fine.

Hand sliding under the waistband of his sweatpants, he let the fantasy take over: you standing there for him, towel loosening under his fingertips, your breath catching the way it did when you laughed too hard. The tension coiled fast—months of late-night calls, that night you spent together, everything he hadn’t been able to touch.

When his hand wrapped around his cock, he imagined it was your lips instead. How warm and soft they’d feel. Your wide eyes looking at him so innocently even as your mouth sucked him off so perfectly. His orgasm came quick, feeling nothing like what he really wanted, but it still ripped a low moan from his throat. He bit the edge of the pillow to muffle it, hips stuttering once then stilling as relief flooded every aching limb.

Breathing hard, Mark wiped a hand across his jaw, suddenly self-conscious. He grabbed tissues, cleaned up, and collapsed on his back, guilt and heat mingling in his chest.

He finally glanced at his phone, about to text an apology, when he noticed the screen was still glowing.

The little green bar at the top still said Call In Progress.

His stomach dropped through the floor.

You were standing frozen in your bathroom, towel clutched under your arms, the phone face-up on your counter where you’d set it in a panic. Mark’s voice echoed from the tiny speaker, followed by a sudden shuffle and a muffled curse. You reached for the screen, intending to end the call, but then you heard it.

The breathy, almost desperate sound of his voice, low and strained, your name a broken whisper under his breath. You went still, barely breathing, cheeks burning as the realization dawned. Oh.

Oh.

You should have ended the call. But you didn’t.

Too enthralled by the idea of sweet, careful, too-polite Mark falling apart on the other end of the line.

You heard a ragged breath, then another.

“Fuck, Y/N,” he whispered.

His voice was low and rough, the kind of tone you’d never heard from him. Needy. Then your name again, this time broken in the middle of a moan.

Your hand flew to your mouth. Oh my god.

He kept going, panting harder now. The way his hips were probably stuttering into his fist, the bed creaking under him—it all played in high-def through your speaker.

“Wanna touch you so bad,” he groaned.

Your entire body was on fire.

When the line finally went quiet, you waited, heart racing. Then, Mark’s face appeared, looking absolutely horrified, eyes wide as he finally realized.

“Oh my god—wait—were you—”

You couldn’t help it as you burst out into nervous laughter, cheeks burning. “Yeah, I…heard all of it.”

His face went so red it was almost purple, both hands flying to cover his eyes. “I’m—I swear I thought I hung up—”

“Don’t worry,” you reassured him with a little smile. “I liked it.”

And with that, you hung up, letting a mortified Mark lose his mind on the other side of the world.

You didn’t directly address that night again, but there was a clear shift in your late night video calls.

They always started the same way: Mark sprawled on his bed, pretending to focus on the story you were telling about work or your idiot neighbor who kept parking in your spot. The truth was that he hadn’t caught a single detail in minutes.

Why? Because you were wearing a tank top that looked like it was designed for a doll, legs pulled up so your shorts barely counted as shorts at all, and every time you stretched, the hem inched just a little higher.

Mark tried. God, he tried to play it cool with a sweet smile, eyes glued to your face like a good boy, but it was a lost cause because your skin was glowing, your hair damp from a late shower. You shifted on the bed, moving closer to the camera. Did you have any idea he was fighting for his life?

“So, anyway, I told my boss that if he wanted to schedule me a third weekend in a row, he’d have to cover my therapy bill.”

Mark blinked, realizing you were waiting for a reply.

“Uh, yeah, absolutely. You should… definitely… do that.”

You grinned. “You didn’t hear a word I said.”

Busted.

Mark coughed, rubbing the back of his neck. “Sorry, I—uh, got distracted.”

You leaned in. “By what?”

His cheeks flushed, eyes darting lower, and you just laughed that soft laugh that always made his stomach flip. You knew exactly the effect you had on him and you loved it.

“Nothing. Just… thinking.”

“Tell me.”

“Just stuff.”

“Hmm. Must be important stuff.” You stretched again, and Mark’s ears turned red to the tips.

“Do you ever think about what you’d do if you were here?” you asked suddenly, your voice syrup sweet, teasing but vulnerable too.

Mark’s eyes darkened. He hesitated, then nodded. “Yeah, all the time.”

“Show me.”

His breath stuttered. “What?”

“Show me what you’d do.”

You bit your lip, letting the camera slip lower so he could see the line of your thigh, your fingers tracing soft circles at your hip.

“Uhm…” he started shakily, “I’d kiss you first,” he murmured quietly, voice strained, words tumbling free before he could reconsider. “Your neck, then your shoulders. Kiss down your chest.”

Your breath caught audibly. Mark could almost see your pulse jumping at your throat.

“And then?” you whispered.

He swallowed, his throat thick with desire. “Then I’d pull that shirt off. Nice and slow.”

You held his gaze, your fingers sliding up to the thin strap of your camisole. “Like this?” you whispered.

You slipped it off your shoulder, the silk gliding down your arm, teasing every inch of skin. Then the other strap. You pulled the shirt up, exposing more of your breasts, your belly, the delicate curve of your waist. Your bare skin glowed in the blue light of the room.

Mark’s breath hitched. He was transfixed, speechless.

“You said you’d kiss down my neck,” you murmured, your own hand tracing lightly from your throat down between your breasts, mimicking where his lips would be, eyes fluttering at your own touch. “Then lower. Every inch, right?”

Mark nodded, helpless. “Yeah. I’d take my time. Make you feel good.”

You shifted, propping the phone so the angle caught your entire body, head to toe, stretched out over the messy sheets. Your hand glided over your chest, circling your breasts, teasing your nipples until they hardened under your fingers. Mark’s breath came harder, every movement mirrored in his gaze.

That was when he realized he could just tell you his fantasies and you’d follow without question. So he did exactly that.

“Slowly,” he told you, his voice dropping. “Play with your nipples, just like that.”

Your fingers obeyed, pinching and rolling, your hips shifting in response, breathy moans slipping out that went straight to his cock. Mark palmed himself, focused only on you.

“That’s it, baby. Keep going. Tell me how it feels.”

“So good,” you gasped, arching into your own hand, your eyes fluttering as pleasure sparked across your skin slowly.

“Take off your panties. I want to watch you tease yourself.”

You did, trembling a little as your fingers pulled down the thin fabric, your legs parting for him, breath stuttering as you touched yourself just how he’d want.

“Tell me what you feel,” he urged, his voice ragged. “Let me hear you.”

“I’m… wet. So wet, Mark. All for you.” Your hips rocked gently against your hand, every touch performed for him.

He groaned, unable to help it, his own hand working himself inside his sweats. “Good girl. Circle your clit, slowly, just with the tips of your fingers.”

You moaned, your head falling back, thighs tensing under the new sensation. The camera shook, a little unsteady, but still angled perfectly so he could see you spread out, open, desperate for more.

“Go a little faster, baby,” he murmured. “Make yourself feel good for me. Let me see you fall apart.”

You obeyed, your movements turning needy, hips bucking as your pleasure built. “Mark, I—I need you so bad,” you whined, your voice barely holding together.

“You have me,” he promised, rough and loving. “I’m right here. Rub your clit harder. That’s it. Now slide a finger in. Can you do that for me, baby?”

You gasped, doing exactly as he said, your body shuddering. “Oh my god—Mark—”

“Yeah, baby, just like that. Another finger. Stretch yourself for me. God, you look so fucking pretty like this, you have no idea.”

You were a mess now, hips rising off the bed, your hand pumping in and out as your thumb circled your clit, the camera catching everything. Your flushed cheeks, the desperate look in your eyes, the sounds you were making for him.

Mark matched your rhythm, his hand squeezing his cock tighter, his breath coming short. “Don’t stop. I wanna see you cum. I want you to scream my name.”

You were almost there. He could see it in the way your toes curled, your thighs shook, your free hand clutched the sheets. Your eyes found his on the screen, wide and wild.

“Mark—I’m—I’m so close, please—!”

“Let go,” he commanded, his voice rough, eyes burning. “Cum for me. Right now.”

Your body bowed, your mouth falling open in a cry that sounded like his name. He watched you fall apart, every second seared into his memory. It was enough to push him over, his own orgasm crashing through him as he bit back a groan, never looking away from you.

When it was over, you both lay there, spent and shaky, smiling like fools at your screens, still hungry for more.

You broke the silence first, your voice low, sweet, and wrecked. “Same time tomorrow?”

He laughed, warm and breathless, feeling the ache already. “I’ll be there.”

Mark couldn’t stop staring at the coffee in his hands. It wasn’t even the right order—too much sugar, no oat milk—but he didn’t say anything. He just stood there, blank-faced in the middle of the rehearsal room, music still thudding from the speakers while everyone else reset for the next take.

“Hyung.” Haechan clapped him on the back. “You good?”

Mark blinked, coming back to himself. “Yeah, yeah. Sorry.”

“You forgot the second count again,” Doyoung muttered, not unkindly, but with that sharp edge he got when he was worried. “You’ve never messed that part up before.”

“I’m fine,” Mark said automatically. “Just tired.”

It wasn’t a lie. But it wasn’t the truth either.

He was exhausted, but not from practice. It was from the way every night ended with his phone overheating from video calls, his body tight and unsatisfied, his head spinning with flashes of your voice, your fingers, the way you looked when you whispered, “Do you want me to take this off too?”

He had seen everything. He had heard you moan his name, made you come with his voice alone. But he hadn’t felt you. And it was driving him insane.

He couldn’t smell your shampoo, couldn’t taste your skin, couldn’t bury his face in your neck and fall asleep with your heart beating under his hand. He could only imagine it. And imagining wasn’t enough anymore.

“Mark, focus!” Their manager snapped from across the room, already irritated. “We’ve got a full day ahead and you’re drifting.”

Mark nodded tightly. “Sorry, won’t happen again.”

But it would happen again. It kept happening. On stage, during shoots, during meetings—his attention kept slipping. He was caught texting you behind a prop during a promo shoot. He zoned out completely during wardrobe fitting, didn’t even notice when they tried to put him in Johnny’s too big clothes. Taeyong was the first to pull him aside for real.

“Are you okay?” He asked quietly in the hallway, concern furrowed between his brows.

Mark rubbed the back of his neck, eyes heavy. “Just… dealing with stuff.”

The leader didn’t press, but his next words were too knowing. “Maybe it’s time you saw her.”

Mark’s breath caught.

He hadn’t said anything about what was troubling him, but Taeyong knew. They all knew. His members had heard the late-night calls through thin hotel walls, seen the way he locked himself away after soundcheck, carrying tension in every muscle. It wasn’t subtle anymore.

Later that night, you received a message from a number you didn’t know.

Hello. I’m from Neo Center at SM Entertainment. I hope it’s okay to reach out. It’s about Mark. He’s not doing great.

You sank onto your bed, adrenaline flooding every limb, heart racing so hard it actually hurt. You were used to texting Mark at ungodly hours, but you had never been contacted by his manager before.

is he… okay?what happened?

The reply was almost instant.

He’s been distracted, keeps zoning out during schedules. He seems exhausted too, but it’s different from his regular self. According to the members, he’s been missing meals as well. Management is worried, the members are worried. Honestly, we were hoping you’d have some advice, or…Is there any chance you could see him soon?

You read that twice, your pulse thudding. The fact that Mark was going through a harsh time and you were too far away to do anything was pushing hard against your heart. But going across the world? It didn’t feel real. Just last month, flying across the ocean for a boy would have sounded insane. But right now, with your own chest feeling hollow from missing him, it felt like the only thing that made sense.

You texted Mark, your fingers flying.

are you okay?i just got a weird message from someone at your company. mark, talk to me.please.

There was no answer. He was probably at practice. You called Jiwon.

She picked up on the first ring. “What’s up?”

“I think I need to go to Korea.” Your voice cracked.

“What? Holy shit!” she breathed, “do you want me to help you look at flights?”

You nodded, even though she couldn’t see you. “Yes, please.”

For the next hour, you and Jiwon were hunched over laptops and phone screens, searching for anything—standby tickets, direct flights, last-minute deals. Every option was expensive, inconvenient, barely possible.

But still your hands shook as you clicked purchase on the first flight you could actually afford, your heart leaping and plummeting all at once. You were really doing this.

Jiwon grinned at you. “You’re insane but I’m proud of you.”

You almost laughed, except you were terrified. “I’m not sure if this is brave or just crazy.”

She shrugged. “Sometimes it’s the same thing.”

You checked your phone again, but there was still no answer from Mark.

But it didn’t matter. You were going anyway.

i can get on a plane tomorrow.can someone meet me at the airport?

You texted his manager. The reply was instant and full of gratitude.

Thank you, y/n. We’ll take care of everything.

The alarm blared long before sunrise, and for a panicked second, you couldn’t remember why you had set it so early until your eyes landed on the half-packed suitcase perched at the foot of your bed. Right. Korea. Mark. You bolted upright.

It was ridiculous how fast adrenaline kicked in. You showered on autopilot, tossed two extra outfits into the bag (who knew what you’d be dragged to?), then yanked them back out because the zipper wouldn’t close. You ended up sitting on the lid, knees to chest, wrestling the slider across stubborn teeth.

Jiwon texted a string of blow-kiss emojis and a final “give me updates pls!” before you even left the apartment. She had pledged to babysit and water the already half-dead pothos.

You climbed into the rideshare with a jittery stomach, watching the city streets smear into a watercolor of headlights and neon until the airport lights finally swallowed you whole. The last time you traveled internationally had been with your parents on a winter holiday. Your dad had a color-coded folder for every document and even timed your bathroom breaks. Without his relentless organization this time, the check-in process quickly became a nightmare.

The kiosk spat out your passport on the first scan, the second, the third. Each time making you feel a little more helpless. Without your parents, there was no one to save you but a bleary-eyed agent, who finally waved you over, fixed the problem in twenty seconds, and sent you sprinting for security.

You fumbled every step of TSA. First, you dropped your boarding pass, forgot to remove your laptop, and nearly walked off without your shoes. Somewhere between the metal detector and the end of the conveyor belt, you realized you were actually shaking. Not from fear of flying but from the weight of seeing Mark, touching him, after so long.

At the gate, you collapsed into a plastic chair, clutching your phone. Still no reply from Mark, so to keep from spiraling, you texted his manager.

through security. boarding in 20. i should arrive at around 8 am.

He responded with a thumbs-up and a polite “safe flight, i will meet you at arrivals.”

You got a window seat, a bit cramped, but at least sunrise painted the tarmac a pretty gold. You buckled in, stashed your bag, then stared out at the wing while passengers jostled past. The guy next to you nodded politely, pulled a hoodie over his face, and went comatose. Lucky him.

As the plane taxied, your nerves peaked. You pulled up Mark’s last voice note and let it loop in your earbuds. His voice steadied you better than any deep-breathing app.

The engines roared, the cabin tilted, the city slid away beneath cloud cover. You pressed a palm to the cold window and whispered, “Mark, I’m coming.”

The first hour slipped by in a haze as you made a half-hearted attempt to read a book, but after rereading the same paragraph twice with zero retention, you gave up. Resigned, you tilted your seat back and closed your eyes, somehow managing to drift into a surprisingly comfortable sleep. But somewhere high above the Pacific, turbulence snapped you awake with a sharp jolt. You instinctively clutched the armrest, heart pounding—and then your phone buzzed.

Mark:

just finished rehearsal. sorry i didn’t reply, my phone died. are you awake?miss you like crazy tonight.

A soft smile tugged at your lips as you typed back.

keep an eye out for a surprise. i’m closer than you think.

The three little dots flickered on and off, like he was typing, deleting, then typing again.

Mark: what do you mean???

When the captain finally announced descent, you were hit with a wave of relief so intense you almost laughed and cried at the same time.

Customs felt like purgatory as your rusty Korean tripped over the officer’s questions, your sweaty fingertips smudged the scanner, and jet lag scrambled any coherent thought. The queue crept forward by millimeters, long enough for you to imagine fossilizing right there behind a lady and her kid who kept sticking his tongue out at you.

By the time you retrieved your bags, your phone battery blinked red and a fresh wave of panic swelled as you pictured yourself marooned in this cavernous airport with nothing but anxiety for company.

Then a familiar-looking guy waved a sign bearing your name. Recognition clicked when you remembered him as one of the staffers from the last time you saw Mark. “Y/N? I’m Jiwon,” he said, bowing with effortless grace. You bowed back clumsily.

“This way, please. We’re so glad you made it.” Relief flooded through you as you trailed after him.

The car ride was quiet. You stared out the window, trying to rehearse what you’d say—what you’d do—when you finally saw Mark.

You arrived at the SM building, and it looked so much bigger and more imposing than in the pictures. Jiwon guided you through a warren of gray hallways where muffled music thrummed beyond a set of double doors.

“Wait here,” he whispered. “He’ll be out soon.”

Your pulse hammered everywhere at once. You smoothed your shirt, swiped under your eyes, though it didn’t help the puffiness.

Footsteps approached and then a door swung open. Mark burst through, sweat-damp hair plastered to his forehead, water bottle in hand. He was talking with a tech when his eyes met yours.

His mouth fell open and the bottle slipped, clattering to the floor and rolling away unnoticed. He looked at you with wide eyes and trembling breath—which was exactly how you felt, mirrored back at you.

“Y/N?” It was a croak, disbelief cracked right down the middle.

You tried to answer, but your throat folded in on itself. So you nodded, stepped forward, and watched relief crash over his features like sunlight breaking through a storm.

He crossed the space in three strides, hauling you against him. That familiar cologne and a tinge of sweat overwhelmed you; all of him suddenly real and solid after countless pixelated nights.

His voice was a hushed, broken mantra in your hair. “You’re here. You’re here. You’re really here.”

You melted into his arms and said the only thing that mattered.

“I’m not going anywhere.”

“This way,” Mark murmured after a few seconds, his fingers wrapped around your wrist.

You followed him down a narrow hallway. Staff voices echoed somewhere behind you, but he didn’t slow. He pushed open a door marked STANDBY – DO NOT ENTER and pulled you in behind him, locking it with a shaky breath.

Once inside, he cupped your face with both hands like he needed to confirm you were real. His thumbs brushed beneath your eyes, fingertips pressing into your jaw softly. “You came,��� he said again, hoarse. “You’re actually here.”

You nodded, hands slipping under his open jacket, feeling the heat of his skin through the soaked t-shirt. “I was told you needed an intervention.”

“You have no idea,” he admitted, laughing breathlessly. “I couldn’t stop thinking about you.”

You reached up, brushing damp hair from his forehead. “So you decided to spiral instead of texting back?”

He groaned. “Don’t call me out when I’m this emotionally compromised.”

You smiled, but your chest ached. “You scared me, Mark.”

His eyes softened. “I know. I’m sorry. I just… I missed you so much, and the calls weren’t enough anymore. I need you. I need—”

You kissed him before he could finish.

Months of longing folded into one desperate press of lips and hands, his mouth opening under yours instinctively. He exhaled your name into the kiss softly. Your fingers tangled in the back of his shirt, tugging him closer, while his hands slid down to your waist.

He walked you backward until the backs of your knees hit the dressing table, then lifted you effortlessly onto the edge. Your legs parted, wrapping around his hips, and he stepped between them, lips never leaving yours.

“How long do we have?” you asked against his mouth.

“Not long enough,” he murmured, kissing along your jaw, down your neck. “But I don’t care. I just need you close.”

You tilted your head to give him access, fingers raking through the damp strands at his nape. His hands moved under your shirt, palms warm and steady against your ribs. “You kept me sane,” he said softly. “Every night.”

Your throat tightened. “I meant it when I said I wasn’t going anywhere.”

“I know.” He kissed you again, slower this time. “And I’m not letting you go now, either.”

His forehead rested against yours, both of you catching your breath, limbs still tangled. It was quiet here—just the sound of your heartbeats finally in the same time zone.

A knock jolted both of you.

“Mark, two minutes!”

He groaned, pressing a quick kiss to your cheek. “I have to go.”

You nodded, smoothing his hair, your shirt, anything to make this moment last one second longer. “Go be amazing.”

He lingered by the door. “I’ll see you after?”

“Of course. I’ll be waiting for you.”

He grinned like he was seventeen again, slipped out the door, and left you breathless in a room that still smelled like his skin.

The ride through the city was quieter than you imagined. You expected to have a million things to say, stories to spill, jokes to catch up on, but nerves kept you both a little quiet at first. Mark’s hand found yours in the backseat, his thumb drawing gentle circles over your knuckles. Every now and then, your eyes met and you laughed quietly, overwhelmed by the reality of just being together again.

He pointed out little things as the car moved through Seoul—the café where he liked to write lyrics, the corner store where he got snacks after late practice, the street where he once lost his keys and had to call Haechan at two in the morning. You listened, smiling, letting his voice fill in all the gaps you’d only ever imagined during your calls.

When the car finally pulled up to a nondescript building on a leafy side street, he squeezed your hand once before letting go, glancing around out of habit to check for fans or cameras. Then he waved you through the entrance.

His apartment was nothing like the dorm. It smelled faintly of clean laundry and something familiar you couldn’t name. There were stacks of books on every surface, a guitar leaning against the couch, and a chipped mug with faded writing beside the sink. The windows let in soft city light, making the space feel open and quiet, almost suspended.

“It’s kind of messy,” Mark said, scratching the back of his neck, suddenly shy. “I don’t get to stay here much. Sometimes I just come here to nap or write when things are too loud at the dorm.”

You stepped out of your shoes, smiled at him, and shook your head. “It’s perfect. It feels like you.”

He grinned and shrugged off his jacket, tossing it over a chair. “You want water? Tea? Ramen? I probably have… one of those weird vitamin drinks left, too.”

You laughed softly. “I just want to sit with you for a minute, if that’s okay.”

Mark nodded and followed you into the living room. You both sank onto the couch, sitting close but not quite tangled up yet, knees bumping together.

He glanced at you sideways. “I kept thinking about what I’d say first, you know? But now that you’re here, it’s like… none of it feels big enough.”

You leaned until your shoulders touched, warmth blooming where you met. “You could quote the back of a cereal box and I’d still be happy.”

Mark’s smile curved. “Do you remember that night we talked until sunrise? I don’t think I ever told you, but that was the night I realized I was falling for you. You were going on about constellations and whatnot, and I just kept thinking that there’s no one else I’d rather listen to at three in the morning.”

For a second, you were flooded by this dizzying joy. You had waited for this, wondered about it in the quiet hours, but nothing prepared you for hearing it out loud.

You took his hand, feeling the comfort of his fingers wrapping around yours. “Can I tell you when I fell for you?” you asked, heart pounding.

Mark blinked, a little startled. “I mean, I always thought it was before we even met. You know, with the whole fan thing.”

You shook your head, smiling. “Back then I was dazzled. I admired you, but it was different. I fell for you the day I realized you remembered everything I ever told you… all the little things no one else cared about. My coffee order, the name of my childhood dog, the fact that Tuesdays freak me out because my dad always traveled on Tuesdays when I was a kid. You’d ask about each one with so much interest. That’s when it hit me that I mattered to you. All the tiny details you could have forgotten but you held on to them. That’s when I knew.”

Mark’s eyes widened, soft with wonder. “I—wow. I thought those details were just… basic boyfriend homework.”

He grew quieter, gaze dropping to his hands. “I was anxious, you know,” he admitted, voice thick with honesty. “That this wouldn’t work… that I was losing you. I kept thinking you’d wake up and realize all this was too much.”

You touched his cheek, your thumb brushing the shadow there. “I was scared too. But I’m not going anywhere. Not tonight. Not ever, if you don’t want me to.”

His expression softened, a smile breaking through as he leaned in and kissed your forehead. “Please stay as long as you want. Move in, for all I care.”

You both laughed. For a few minutes, you just sat there together, talking quietly about nothing and everything—the different times he messed up the choreo, tiny disasters in the kitchen, the way you both missed each other in the strangest, smallest ways.

Eventually, Mark shifted closer, one arm wrapping around your shoulders. He pulled you in until your head was tucked under his chin and his hand was smoothing gentle circles on your back. His lips pressed soft kisses to your hair, your temple, your cheek.

“I missed you,” you whispered, letting yourself sink into the feeling.

He hummed, words warm against your skin. “Missed you too. Every single day.”

You pressed your forehead to his, feeling his breath mingle with yours, utterly certain for the first time that you were standing on equal ground. You tilted your head and found his lips. The kiss started unrushed and tender, just the two of you relearning what it meant to be close again. You moved together easily, his hands slipping up to cradle your face, your fingers twisting in his hair.

The moment stretched, deepening into something needier as you shifted, pressing closer, wanting to memorize every bit of him, not just with words but with touch. When Mark finally pulled away, breath short and eyes shining, you saw everything you’d been missing in his expression.

“Come with me,” he whispered, leading you down the hallway to his bedroom.

Mark’s bedroom was quiet aside from your breathing and the muted hum of the city beyond his window. You sat perched on the edge of his mattress, watching as he approached you slowly, his gaze heavy but gentle. When he settled beside you, his knee brushed yours softly.

His eyes held yours, questioning. “You sure you’re okay?”

You smiled a little, nerves fluttering warmly in your stomach. “Yeah. Just nervous, I guess.”

“Me too,” he whispered with a small laugh, the sound soothing your nerves instantly.

He lifted one hand carefully to your cheek, brushing his thumb across your skin. You leaned into his touch instinctively. Your eyes slipped closed when he kissed you, slow and gentle at first. His lips parted yours gradually, and your breath escaped in a sigh that he swallowed eagerly.

You raised your hands to his hair, threading your fingers gently through the strands at the nape of his neck. Mark leaned into your touch, deepening the kiss just slightly, careful not to rush. He was savoring every second of finally having you here, close enough to touch, close enough to taste.

His hands traveled from your jawline to your shoulders, fingertips leaving a trail of warmth as they skimmed your skin. He guided you gently down onto the bed, following until his body hovered carefully above yours.

Mark pulled back for a moment to study your face. The tenderness in his gaze nearly broke your heart. He ducked his head slowly and pressed a kiss to the corner of your mouth, then your cheekbone, then lower, just beneath your ear.

Your breath caught as his lips brushed softly against your throat. He paused to press a slow kiss to your pulse point, lingering as your heartbeat quickened beneath his mouth. His lips parted, and you felt the gentle scrape of his teeth followed by the warmth of his tongue soothing the spot. A soft moan slipped from your lips as you arched your neck further, silently begging for more.

He chuckled quietly against your skin, pleased. The sound vibrated down your spine, leaving goosebumps in its wake. Mark continued his slow path along your collarbone, kissing each inch of exposed skin he found. His hands slid up your sides beneath your shirt, fingertips grazing your ribs gently, reverently.

You lifted your arms to help him remove your shirt, feeling the cool air kiss your bare skin. He tossed the fabric aside carefully before leaning back to look at you. The hunger in his eyes made your pulse race and your skin heat under his gaze.

“You’re perfect,” he whispered softly, almost like a confession.

You tugged gently at his shirt in response. He sat back just enough to pull it over his head, letting it join yours on the floor. His skin was warm as you touched him, tracing your fingers down his chest and across his stomach, memorizing the lines and planes you’d only admired through screens before tonight.

Mark dipped down again, his mouth finding the sensitive hollow between your breasts. Your breath hitched softly, your fingers tightening on his shoulders. He placed gentle kisses along the curve of your breast, deliberately avoiding where you needed him most until you arched upward with a quiet plea.

He finally gave in, lips brushing your nipple softly before taking it gently into his mouth. You gasped softly, your back curving off the mattress. Your fingers gripped his hair tighter as he drew careful circles with his tongue, driving you slowly toward blissful frustration.

He repeated this on the other side, taking his time, his touch patient and unrushed. By the time his lips started to drift downward again, you were trembling softly beneath him, needing more.

His fingers slipped carefully beneath your waistband, tugging your remaining clothes down your hips until you kicked them off completely. Mark paused, sitting back to take in the sight of you, completely bare and vulnerable beneath him. The look on his face—adoration mixed with desire—made your cheeks warm and your heart race even faster.

He lowered himself again, placing soft kisses along your stomach, lingering at your hipbones and leaving careful marks with his mouth. Your fingers threaded through his hair as you tried not to squirm impatiently beneath his touch.

“Mark, please,” you whispered, your voice quiet but needy.

He smiled softly against your skin before finally giving you what you were asking for. His mouth was gentle but insistent, lips and tongue moving carefully, building your pleasure slowly. Your hips shifted beneath him as your breath came quicker, louder, his name escaping your lips in soft gasps and whispered pleas.

He took his time, watching every reaction, listening to every sound you made. You finally shuddered softly beneath him, your thighs trembling against his shoulders as pleasure washed through you.

Mark crawled up your body again, kissing you deeply as your breathing slowly calmed. You felt his warmth pressed against you, skin to skin now, and your heart stuttered gently in your chest.

“Still okay?” he asked softly, his lips brushing your forehead.

“More than okay,” you whispered, pulling him closer. “I want you, Mark.”

He reached for a condom quickly, his movements still gentle as he settled back between your legs. Your eyes met again as he lined himself up, slowly easing forward until your breath caught again and your fingers dug into his shoulders.

He moved slowly at first, letting you adjust. Then his hips rocked into yours steadily. Each thrust was deep and careful, pulling you closer to him, his breath warm against your neck as he held you tightly.

You wrapped your legs around him, pulling him deeper still. Your movements became synchronized, bodies perfectly attuned to each other as you moved toward your shared orgasm.

"So fucking good" he groaned.

Your nails scraped softly down his back, drawing a quiet moan from his throat. He kissed you again as his pace grew faster, more urgent as you both neared the edge. His fingers intertwined with your fingers as he pressed your joined hands into the mattress beside your head.

“Look at me,” he breathed shakily. You did, and the intensity in his gaze finally pushed you over the edge. Your body tightened around him as you whispered his name again, soft and desperate.

He followed moments after, breathing ragged as he clung to you, face pressed into the curve of your neck. For a while afterward neither of you moved, content to remain tangled and breathless, your heartbeats gradually syncing into something slow and peaceful.

Eventually he lifted his head just enough to kiss your lips softly. You smiled into the kiss, fingers brushing his hair away from his face.

“I really love you,” he whispered, lips barely brushing yours.

“I love you, too,” you whispered back, and it felt like the simplest truth in the world.

You woke slowly, and you weren’t sure where you were for a moment, but then you felt the weight of Mark’s arm draped across your waist and his breath warm against the back of your neck. 

You shifted carefully, looking over your shoulder. Mark was still asleep, his hair a mess, lips parted in the faintest snore. His face was relaxed in a way you’d never seen before. He looked younger, softer, as if the weight of the world had finally eased for a few hours.

You let yourself watch him for a little while, memorizing the curve of his jaw, the moles on his cheek, the way his fingers flexed gently against your stomach even in sleep. You turned to face him, noses almost touching, and whispered, “Hey. Wake up.”

He mumbled something incoherent, brow creasing as he tightened his hold. “Five more minutes,” he pleaded, voice thick with sleep.

You laughed softly and pressed a kiss to his cheek. “C’mon, you promised me breakfast.”

That got a smile out of him. His eyes blinked open, unfocused at first, but when he saw you he grinned like a kid on Christmas morning. “Hey.”

“Hey yourself.”

Mark leaned in, pressing a slow kiss to your lips. His hand slid up your back, thumb tracing lazy circles. “You’re still here.”

“Where else would I be, silly?” you murmured, letting your forehead rest against his.

You stayed like that for a while, tangled in sheets, trading gentle kisses and sleepy jokes. Eventually, the rumble of Mark’s stomach broke the spell, and you both started laughing.

“Okay, okay,” he said, untangling himself and rolling out of bed. He padded over to his closet, grabbed a t-shirt, and tossed it to you to wear. You slipped it on and it swallowed you whole.

You watched him move around the kitchen, hair still sticking up, humming quietly as he started coffee and pulled out bread and eggs. You leaned against the counter, grinning at how domestic it all felt. Mark caught your eye and winked.

“What?” he said, brandishing a spatula. “Never seen a master chef at work before?”

“Pretty sure you’re known as the worst enemy of eggs.”

“Hey, that was one time.”

You hopped up onto the counter and stole a piece of toast from his plate. He playfully tried to swat your hand away, but you were faster.

You ate on the kitchen floor, backs against the cabinets, plates balanced on your knees. He kept reaching over to tuck your hair behind your ear or to press quick, silly kisses to your shoulder.

When the dishes were rinsed and stacked to dry, Mark stretched, muscles flexing under the thin fabric of his T-shirt.

“Wanna shower?” he asked, his voice still a little husky.

You nodded, happy to follow him down the hall. The bathroom was surprisingly wide, clean white tile, soft towels folded neatly, the scent of his shampoo lingering in the air.

Mark twisted the tap, checking the temperature. He peeled off his shirt first, glancing over his shoulder with a shy grin when he caught you staring. You tugged yours off in response, then stepped under the spray together.

Warm water drummed across your shoulders. Mark’s hands settled at your hips, guiding you under the stream until your hair slicked flat against your neck. He reached for a bottle, squeezed shampoo into his palm, and started working it gently through your hair. His fingers massaged your scalp in slow circles. You closed your eyes, the simple touch turning your knees to jelly.

“Lean back,” he murmured. You did, letting the suds rinse away. When you opened your eyes he was smiling, foam clinging to his own hair like a crooked crown. You laughed and swiped bubbles from his forehead. He tried to retaliate, streaking soap across your nose, so you flicked water at him in defense. The playfulness echoed off tile and glass, louder than it probably should, but neither of you cared.

Mark grabbed body wash next, lathering it between his palms before running his hands over your shoulders, down your arms, across your back. The touch was slow and steady, more patient than the night before. You mirrored him, sliding your soapy palms over his chest, feeling the steady rise and fall of his breath. His eyes fluttered closed for a moment, head tipping back into the spray.

“Turn around,” you whispered. He did, and you trailed suds across his spine, mapping each vertebra with your fingers. You pressed a soft kiss to his shoulder blade and felt him exhale.

The water started to cool, so Mark reached around you to shut it off. Droplets clung to his lashes while he grabbed a towel for you, another for himself. He patted your hair dry, then wrapped the towel around your shoulders like a cloak before tending to his own. There was no rush. The morning belonged to both of you.

Back in the bedroom, the mid-afternoon sunlight sat warm on the sheets. You dropped onto the edge of the mattress, towel still wrapped snug around you. Mark pulled a clean sweatshirt over his head, then rummaged for one of his spare shirts and a pair of soft shorts for you. He tossed them over with a gentle, “Here, these should fit.”

Once dressed, you crawled to the middle of the bed where he was already propped against the headboard, legs stretched out. You curled into his side, damp hair spreading across his shoulder. He threaded his fingers through the strands, combing lazily while the city hummed beyond the window.

“You know,” he said after a while, “I never thought a quiet morning could feel this big.”

You shifted to look at him. “Big how?”

“Big as in… everything I wanted, but simple too.” His thumb brushed your cheek.

You smiled, letting your eyes drift shut. “Simple sounds perfect.”

Mark pressed a slow kiss to your temple. You breathed him in, warmth and clean laundry and his addictive natural scent.

His fingers were combing lazily through your damp hair when he asked, “Do you have a Seoul bucket list?”

You tilted your head up from where it rested against his chest. “Bucket list?”

“Yeah,” he said, grinning a little. “Stuff you’ve always wanted to do if you ever came here.”

You thought for a moment. “I mean, I always wanted to walk around the Han river.”

“That’s it?” he said, faking offense. “What kind of tourist are you?”

You laughed. “Fine, I also wanted to visit a traditional palace. And maybe try street food from a cart like in the dramas. Oh, and take one of those cheesy photo booth strips. Happy?”

“That’s better,” he said warmly. “Get dressed. I’ll be your tour guide for the day.”

He took you everywhere.

The first stop was the Han river, just before the sun dipped too low. He rented two bikes, insisting on racing you down the path even though his legs were still sore from rehearsal. At one point, he lost control, swerved into the grass, and tumbled off earning a chorus of startled gasps from a family nearby. After making sure he was okay, you laughed until your sides hurt and promised to never let him live it down.

Next, you stopped at a food cart and got odeng, tteokbokki, and a hotteok that was almost too sweet. Mark bought way too much and insisted you both finish it, grinning through powdered sugar and spice.

He took you to Changdeokgung Palace, where you borrowed hanboks and wandered the quiet paths, giggling when Mark kept bowing to strangers like a royal guard. The afternoon was warm but breezy, the light gentle and soft on your faces. Everything felt impossibly light.

Later, he dragged you into a photo booth in Hongdae. You took one serious shot—both of you trying to look hot—and then the rest were silly. Tongues out, bunny ears, noses squished together, a kiss that took you both by surprise because it felt so natural in that moment.

“I’m keeping all of these,” he said afterward, shoving the prints into his wallet.

You nudged his side. “I better be in there for life.”

He looked at you, something soft passing through his eyes. “Deal.”

As the sun dipped lower, Mark brought you back to the Han river because he insisted the view was better at sunset. He was right. Everything was tinted gold, the water shimmering and cool. He bought two convenience store beers, and you sat on the grass sipping and watching the light change.

“I used to come here when things got too loud at the dorm,” he admitted, watching the horizon. “When we debuted, I didn’t know what I was doing.”

You rested your head on his shoulder. “Does it still feel like that sometimes?”

He nodded. “But less, now that you’re here.”

You stayed there long after the sun had set, city lights flickering on around you, breeze tugging at your clothes, his fingers laced tightly with yours.

This wasn’t the Seoul you had imagined. It was better, because he was showing it to you, because you were seeing it together.

Later that night, Mark led you up a narrow stairwell, fingers still laced with yours. You could see how the city stretched out in all directions from there. Seoul glittering below and the Han river in the distance tracing a silver ribbon through the darkness. 

He looked at you, a little shy even now, and tugged a tiny Bluetooth speaker from his jacket pocket. “Wait here.”

You watched as he set the speaker on the concrete, fiddled with his phone, and then a familiar melody floated up, soft at first, then swelling. His song. Not the demo you’d heard the other night, but the finished version. His voice was clearer, more confident, full of everything he’d been holding back.

Mark stepped closer, pulled a slightly crumpled Polaroid from his wallet and pressed it into your palm. It was your favorite from the photo booth, both of you making ridiculous faces, happiness written all over your features. Scrawled on the back in his messy handwriting We’ll keep adding frames.

He tucked a strand of hair behind your ear, gaze serious and gentle all at once. “I wanted you to hear it first. And I want you here for every song, every stupid photo, all of it. Okay?”

You nodded, tears threatening even though you were smiling. “Okay.”

He took your hand and slow-danced you in a tight circle under moonlight, the music washing over you both. You could barely hear the city anymore, just his voice in your ear, singing a promise he’d already made you a hundred different ways.

When the song faded, Mark leaned his forehead to yours. “I don’t want to lose you. And now, I never will.”

[straylightdream]

beg for you

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: kim mingyu x afb.reader x jeon wonwoo

𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐭𝐮𝐬: coming soon for Wonwoo’s birthday

𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞(𝐬): romance, porn with a little plot, smut, roommates to lovers

𝐚𝐮(𝐬): nonidol

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: teaser 980 full story 5k

𝐭𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐠𝐞𝐫 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: cussing

𝐬𝐦𝐮𝐭 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: unprotected sex and protected sex (mc is on birth control), soft dom wonwoo and mingyu, wonwoo is in charge even while the mc is with mingyu, voyerism, readers hands are bound, begging, cock drunk reader, use of lube, big dick wonwoo and even bigger dick mingyu, pussy streching, multiple positions, oral (female rec), hand job, fingering, pussy whipped mingyu, p in v intercourse, threesome, breast worship, nipple play, nicknames: Princess, good girl, baby (hers) baby (wonwoo)

𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠: 18+ nsfw

if you would like to be tagged please fill out this form.

- PREVIEW -

You know when this day started you thought it was just going to be a normal Saturday. For once you finally got to sleep in. You were starting your day by having a cup of coffee and cooked yourself some bacon and eggs.

Sitting at the kitchen table in the little nook by the window, you scroll through your phone aimlessly. Wonwoo is sitting across from you working on his laptop and enjoying his favorite morning beverage, an americano.

Mingyu is nowhere to be seen. You assume your other roommate took an early morning trip to the gym. Him and Seungcheol often like meeting to work out.

The front door opens and sure enough, in walks Mingyu. He’s dressed in those god forsaken sweatpants he’s been wearing too often. The whole time you have lived with the two boys you have tried your hardest not to catch feelings for either of the boys. You thought you were doing a good job. Wonwoo and you were best friends and you knew you worked well as friends. Mingyu on the other hand was more of a problem. In recent months him and his wonderful grey sweatpants have been hunting your horny dream. This man is a giant and you can’t help but imagine, every part of him is huge. The issue is, his sweatpants do nothing to hide how big he is down below. Closing your eyes you tried to push away your indecent thoughts.

Mingyu walks over to the table almost frantically. He says your name, and you glance up at him. “Opinions on being tied to the bed?” You almost choke on your coffee. Mingyu decided to ask you this very blunt question out of nowhere. Wonwoo lets out a laugh looking up from his laptop. In the whole two years you have lived together you and Mingyu haven’t really spoken about your sex lives. Sure you and Wonwoo have talked about things of this nature. But Mingyu has always liked to keep this part of his life private. The whole time you have lived together he only brought one girl home, and oh god was she loud. Luckily your bedroom is near the kitchen. Wonwoo has the unfortunate luck of sharing a bedroom wall with Mingyu. This girl was so loud Wonwoo’s noise canceling headphones didn’t even help. About an hour into Mingyu's little sexual encounter, Wonwoo came to your room to sleep to attempt to escape the noise.

“Maybe, hello how are you? Or even I have a wild question I would like to ask?” Sitting your coffee down on the table.

“Hello my dear roommate. How are you?” He literally doesn’t even give you a second to answer. “Now, what do you think about being tied to the bed?” He’s calmed down, maybe a little, but not much.

“Like during sex?” Wonwoo lets out a snicker at your question.

“Obviously during sex.” Mingyu responses.

“Gyu why are you being weird?” Wonwoo closes his laptop.

“Cheol said I’m vanilla.” Bingo, we have a winner. Of course this conversation is all because of Seungcheol. Seungcheol and his god damn big mouth once again is causing chaos in your life. This is the same man that once had you jump into a pool naked to prove a point.

“That doesn’t explain why you’re asking our sweet roommate about being tied to a bed.”

“Cheol said girls normally like it when a man takes control.” Well it seems like Seungcheol has frazzled Mingyu, and now he’s a rambling mess. Next time you see Seungcheol you’re definitely going to yell at him. “He was telling me all about his girl he had sex with and tied to his bed. According to him she was crying and begging him to go harder.”

“Why are you listening to Cheol?” Wonwoo knows all too well that Seungcheol knows how to run his mouth.

“I don’t know.” He sighs, pulling out the chair and sitting down between you and Wonwoo.

“Have you ever had a girl complain?” Wonwoo has fully stepped into the conversation. You’re left silent, still in shock this conversation is even happening.

“No.” He sounds defeated.

“Dude, not all girls like to be dominated.” Wonwoo responded.

“Are you dominant in bed?”

Wonwoo sighs and leans back. “I wouldn’t say I’m a hard dom or anything like that. But I’m in charge in bed.” You definitely didn’t expect your breakfast conversation to consist of learning more about Wonwoo’s sex life.

“What about you did you want to be dominated?” Mingyu turns his attention back to you.

“I don’t want to be fully dominated or anything like that, but—“ You pause, you aren’t exactly sure how much of your sex life you want to share. “I like when whoever I’m with is in control.”

“Is our sweet girl a pillow princess?” Wonwoo is wearing a wicked grin. His words do something to you.

“I’m not a full blown pillow princess, but I like when a man is in control.”

The room feels suffocatingly small suddenly. You can feel Mingyu’s eyes burning into you. Your eyes haven’t left Wonwoo’s. Even behind his glasses you can feel him almost undressing you with his eyes.

“Maybe _____ can let you test out being in charge?” Wonwoo speaks, finally breaking the screaming loud silence.

“Wonwoo?” You say his name not even sure what you want to say. This whole situation feels crazy.

“What?” He tilts his head giving you a smirk.

Glancing over at Mingyu you see him blushing. It’s clear he definitely didn’t see the conversation going this way.

[yunalinwrites]

one-on-one dance practice with abby + confession | abs saja/ur fav x idol!reader

scene summary: abby catches you late at night in the studio and helps you master your choreo. as he watches you move, he can't help but be moved himself--enough so that he can't hide his feelings for you anymore (based on this req for my ohshc-inspired series described below but can pretty much be read as a standalone. also think this could b read with any of the guys in mind, esp jinu ^o^)

series summary - saja boys' sixth member is... a girl?: in this story, you are pretending to be a boy. not just any boy--a saja boy. but what will you do when not even your fellow members--the ones you now share a dorm with--can find out you're actually a girl? stay tuned for more!! (heavily based on you're beautiful kdrama + ouran high school host club)

It was sometime in the evening, and Abs had forgotten his water bottle in the dance studio. He planned to just swing by and head back to the dorm to relax, but he was curious to find the lights to the studio still on, the floor thumping with bass notes, and the sound of rubber soles squeaking against the floor.

Pushing open the door, he found you in front of the floor-to-ceiling mirrors, snapping your body to the song you had all been practicing earlier that day. Other than morning rehearsal, it was supposed to be your guys’ day off. But, based on your disheveled hair and empty water bottle next to his, he could tell you'd been here for hours since.

Your work seemed to have paid off; you looked amazing, hitting every move powerfully yet gracefully. Well, for the most part. The second you heard the beat signifying Abs’ verse, your foot gets caught on your other ankle, causing you to lose balance and land flat on your ass with a thud.

“Dammit,” you mutter, lying back on the floor and spreading your limbs like a starfish. 

You take in the cool feeling of the lacquered wood panels against your sweaty skin, using one of your forearms to shield your eyes from the fluorescent lights above you.

“Still here?” a familiar deep voice asks you.

You laugh, exasperated, lifting your arm to peek at the familiar head of pink hair hovering over you before covering your face back up out of shame. “Please tell me you didn't see that.”

“Oh, don't worry, I didn't,” he jokes. “Definitely didn't see you put our choreographer to shame. All I saw was the part where you ate total shit.”

You roll over onto your stomach, smushing your cheek on the floor. “Ugh…” you groan.

“Hey, come on, the floor's dirty,” he scolds.

“Whatever. My shirt’s holding more sweat and stink than this floor has ever felt,” you contest.

“I ever tell you about the time Derpy pissed on my sneakers right before I walked in here?”

You shoot up immediately. “Abby! Gross!”

“I’m just playing with you,” he chuckles, crouching next to you. He unscrews his water bottle and passes it to you. “Here, since you lost so much sweating.”

You grab the bottle with a smirk and take a sip. When you wipe your mouth, he extends out his hand. 

“What’s got you--the second verse?” he asks, his speech not even the slightest bit strained as he pulls you up with ease.

ou brush yourself off. “Yeah, I don't know. The footwork is tripping me up. Literally. Keep mixing it up with the sequence at the beginning…”

“Maybe get some rest,” he suggests. “You seem tired. There’s always tomorrow.”

“No!” you refuse sharply, not meaning to sound so harsh. “It's gonna keep me up if I don't get this right.”

“Plus,” you add, less bite this time, “Gwi-Ma's gonna, like, trap me in here if he sees me mess it up tomorrow morning.”

It's supposed to be funny, but even you have to force a smile at what is, at the end of the day, the truth. He knows this too, and his signature smirk is nowhere to be found. His brows furrow at the thought of you overexerting yourself.

“Fine,” he concedes, patting your shoulder. “But you're gonna let me help you.”

The next hour proves to be unexpectedly tense. It's quiet; instead of playing the track on the speaker, he sings it for you at a slower tempo, allowing you to break down the moves while he emphasizes the syllables on the downbeats. 

Occasionally, he’ll stop to demonstrate the moves. Other times, it'll be to adjust your body. “It's more like this,” he'll say, gently pulling your arms or pushing your legs into place.

Soon enough, he goes from clapping the beat to keep you on tempo to applauding you with a spreading smile on his face.

“There you go,” he praises. Crossing his arms, he lets out another praise under his breath: "That's my girl..."

You're too busy celebrating to catch that last part.

“Ugh, yes! Finally” you cheer, jumping up and down. “W-woah…”

On your way down from another celebratory hop, you had landed weirdly and lost your balance. Before you can reconvene with the ground, you feel something--someone--sturdy wrap around you. 

Abby was a good few feet beside you with his arms crossed, so you don't even register that he's behind you until you see him holding you up by your underarms, his forearms bulging in the mirror as they cross over your chest.

You laugh nervously. “Sorry.”

“Don’t worry about it,” he tells you, taking a step back after helping you to your feet. “I'm… really proud of you.”

“Thanks,” you reply sheepishly, staring at your sneakers to try and hide your blush.

A large outstretched palm enters your vision. You look up at him.

“Call it a night?” he offers, his eyes seeming to plead with you.

You bite your cheek, considering it for a moment--not so much tempted by relaxation as you are by the opportunity to walk home with him. 

“I…”

But, before you can surrender, you hear the echo of Gwi-Ma's voice in your head.

“I should probably try it to the music…”

You don't mention his name, but Abby acknowledges what you really mean with a solemn expression.

“You don't have to wait up on me,” you assure him.

“No,” he says firmly. “I'm staying.”

You smile. “Suit yourself.”

With a stretch of your back towards the ceiling and a long yawn, you turn on the speaker.

You've barely even gotten into position, but Abby is already watching you with awe. As the music crescendos, you're moving in time with the music with a confidence he couldn't even dream of. Your productless hair is sticking to itself and flopping everywhere, your stupid Saja Boys T-Shirt drowns your body, and you're covered in so much sweat that if it weren't for the smell, it was as if you'd just showered. But to Abby, it's the most beautiful show he's ever seen. It's a thousand times more elegant than any show of tutus and tippy toes you could offer him, and he never wants anyone else to see it.

When the song comes to a quiet, you're panting like a dog, but Abby is completely breathless. Not just in wonder, but something else--something unexpectedly bitter against the sweetness of the sight that puts a pit in his stomach.

You find his eyes in the reflection of the mirror and wait for him to say something, but he doesn't. He just stares at you with an expression you can't quite place–something between admiration and devastation. 

“Abby…?”

You had shown him a perfect demonstration of muscle memory. It made sense–he'd seen the effort to build those reflexes with his very own eyes. But the way he approaches you–the way he grabs you by your waist and turns you to face him–has no such business feeling as familiar as it does. Even so, it can't help but come so naturally to lean into each other.

“Should--Should I do it again…?” you stutter, feeling yourself heat up underneath his touch.

He shakes his head, but there's still something sad in his eyes.

“Did I… do something… wrong?” you ask him.

“No, you… you're perfect. Just… keeping looking at me…”

His hands move upward, cradling your jaw as he leans his face closer to yours. His eyes flicker to your lips--his own just centimeters away–silently asking, begging for permission.

Even when you feel his warm breath ghost over you, your body shows no signs of protest; your eyelids are already drifting shut in expectation. But, albeit weakly, you still resist, not out of aversion but disbelief. “This isn't part of the choreo…”

"It's not,” he affirms.

“Then… what are you…”

His whole career flashes before his eyes–a career that he'd been able to keep because of his precise control over his muscles. The entirety of this painstaking job relied on his ability to puppet every part of himself like a marionette, pulling the strings of his calves to the beat, sucking in his six-pack for the camera, making his vocal cords hit frequencies with all but the mercy of a lozenge. But right now, in this moment, he can't maneuver even a single cell in his body to stop himself--not even the parts of him that know it's selfish, that it's rumors and scandals with your career on the line, too.

That withstanding, “I'm sorry,” is all he can whisper in reparations before he's crashing his lips onto yours.

It's so hungry--so depraved; you're melding against each other so desperately. It's the first time between the two of you, but the way you're pulling him closer by his shirt and he's backing you up against the mirror with his arms around the small of your back--you're savoring each other like it's your last; there's a mutual understanding that it very well could be.

There's another mutual understanding: the both of you have decided there's no need for air or water or food--just the other needing you. Nothing–not even your own lungs’ urgency for oxygen–can separate the two of you. Though, gravity makes a good attempt at it.

Just before you reach the wall with your back, you feel something round underneath your heel. You quickly pull away from him, almost slipping on the plastic crunching beneath you. Instinctively, you throw your hands around his neck as he tightens his hold around your waist.

The both of you catch your breath in heavy synchronised pants. You're still staring at the ground, where the empty plastic bottle had so rudely interrupted you. 

“Look at me,” he tells you.

You realize you've spent the last few hours doing everything he said and wanted and yet, now that you were out of the moment, you couldn't bring yourself to do even that. Not with the way your cheeks were burning.

He grabs your chin and forces your gaze towards him. “Y/N.”

“We'll get in trouble if we're not back at the dorm soon,” you utter, but it's not necessarily a contest–it’s really nothing more than a statement with the way you're staring at his lips.

He brushes his thumb over your bottom lip. “Y/N, if you’d let me–”

“Yes. Whatever it is, yes. Just do it. Make it quick,” you interject eagerly, pulling him closer.

He can't help but laugh, sending a rumble through both of you. “No, really, listen–Hear me out.”

“What is there to hear out about you?” you try joking, but your smile drops a bit at his uncharacteristic seriousness.

Gazing deeply into your eyes, he reaches around his neck and grabs your hand, holding it to his beating heart. 

“I… I promise to protect you,” he tells you earnestly. “I don’t care about the fans. I don't care about any other godforsaken demon in the underworld. I don't even care what Gwi-Ma might do.”

He squeezes your hand tighter. “If anything--anyone tries to hurt you…”

“I promise I…” 

He trails off, not even wanting to fathom the thought of something happening to you. Your eyes soften. He never finishes his sentence, but it isn't any less convincing. He pulls you closer into a hug, his mouth right by your ear.

“I know you don't need me. But I…”

He takes a shuddered deep breath.

“I need to be by your side…”

Pulling back, he holds your face and brings your foreheads together.

“Please. Let me be the one to catch you when you fall,” he whispers.

You bring your hands to cup his jaw. “Abby, that’s…”

Just as quickly, though, one of them leaves to cup your mouth. “...that's so corny,” you laugh.

He smirks. “Yeah, but it's working. I can feel you falling for me right now.”

He tries pulling you up towards him, but you push his face away playfully. “That's me slumping because I'm so tired of you.”

“Ah! Abby!” You swat at his chest as, before you know it, he's lifting you bridal-style.

He gives you a swift peck. “You don't mean that.”

“I don't,” you giggle.

As he carries you out through the door, you let your head rest on his shoulder, giving him the perfect position to plant another quick kiss on your forehead. It's the first time you're seeing outside of the dance studio in more than eight hours, an unfortunate reality for the both of you.

Placing your hand back on his heart, you say one more thing before letting your exhaustion take over.

“Abby?” you whisper.

“Yeah?”

“I promise to protect you, too.”

***

this pacing kinda stinks now that i read it all together im sorry im a first draft warrior always </3

i have other ideas in mind for one-on-one rehearsal + confession for the other guys but i thought id upload this one first to give myself a bit of time cuz i can already feel myself burning out LMAO

but can u tell abs is a veryyyy close second fav to jinu :3 sometimes I think I like him better...

masterlist

tags (open ^o^): @hornehlittleweeblet2 @foxta1l @prettylittlelavvy @ch1cky-093 @thoughtsfrom1985 @feelya @doodle-with-rhy @fries11 @katzline @iivantablackii @mysteris-things @maybeethan69

[thatonegrimm]

Hi, do you take solo reqs for the boys? If so can I get a scenario of how would Jinu protect the reader from Gwi-ma? I got inspired by this one fanart where he just goes ABSOLUTELY FERAL in protecting Rumi from Gwi-ma and I want smth like that cause its hot lol, full fangs demon form and claws and all (Lets pretend that he didnt sacrifice himself and fought with the reader/rumi in the climax)

Yes, I absolutely take solo requests—and I love this one. 👀💥 Full feral Jinu? Fangs, claws, and no self-sacrificing in sight? Say less.

What is this “death” you speak of? Never heard of it. 😌 Let’s pretend he stayed and fought beside you and Rumi—because honestly? That’s hotter anyway.

When He Stops Holding Back

Summary: Jinu was always quiet. Always careful. Until the night you nearly died—when he stopped holding back. What he becomes to protect you is terrifying, beautiful, and something he never meant for you to see.

TW: light angst

-----------------------------------

You’d always known Jinu was powerful.

Not just from the way the others deferred to him, or how his gaze could silence a room when he chose to let it harden. But from something quieter. Something deeper. The stillness he carried, like a lake right before it cracked under ice.

But you had never seen him like this.

Not until tonight.

-----------------------------

The battlefield is chaos.

Magic burns in the air, crackling wild and angry. The ground is a ruin of scorched stone and shattered barriers. Screams echo—some human, some not. And at the center of it all: Gwi-Ma.

He’s not just fire anymore.

He’s becoming—pulling solid mass out of flame, his body forging itself into jagged muscle and molten bone with every soul he devours. His core pulses orange-gold, rage and hunger made real.

You and Rumi move together, blades drawn, breath ragged. You’ve fought demons before—but this isn’t a battle. It’s a countdown.

And you’re running out of time.

------------------------------------

You don’t see the blow coming.

One moment you’re moving—dodging, slashing, circling behind Rumi—and the next, the heat shifts. It changes direction.

You feel it before you hear it: a deep crackle, the air thickening into pressure so intense it sucks the breath from your lungs. And then you hear it—like a furnace detonating. A sound that comes with the gut-deep certainty that this one’s meant for you.

You turn—too slow.

Flames, not just heat, come screaming toward you, coiled into tendrils of living fire, spiraling like whips. You flinch back instinctively. There’s nowhere to go. Nothing to block it.

You see your death coming—sharp, searing, inevitable.

You hear Rumi scream your name.

And then

He’s there.

Jinu slams into you from the side like a meteor. His arm wraps around your waist, the momentum sending both of you flying out of the tendrils’ path. The world flips sideways, then crashes into stone. You hit the ground hard—your shoulder first, then your back, the impact ripping the air from your lungs.

You tumble once, twice, before slamming into a half-toppled pillar. Pain blooms white-hot across your ribs. Your weapon skids away, forgotten in the rubble. The stone beneath you radiates with leftover heat—Gwi-Ma’s fire still lingering in the cracks.

Your body screams. You can’t breathe. Smoke stings your eyes.

But you’re alive.

And when you blink—gasping, shaking, trying to remember how to exist—you see him.

Jinu.

He’s already standing between you and the flames, posture tense, head low, back rising and falling with sharp, uneven breaths. The fire-light paints his figure in gold and violet. His control is gone.

And something inside him has snapped wide open.

Magic bleeds off him in thick pulses. His hands are claws now. His skin glows faint lilac, and just beneath the surface, markings twitch like they're coming alive. You can feel the air warping around him, not from Gwi-Ma—but from him.

And when he lifts his head, just slightly, you see the flash of his eyes—Molten gold. Slit. Feral.

You’ve never seen him like this.

You’ve never seen anyone like this.

----------------------------------

He’s not hiding anymore.

Gone is the careful, controlled expression. Gone is the boy who laughed too softly and made finger hearts when he didn’t know what to say—the one who was all awkward charm and warm silences, who rarely asked for attention even when he deserved it.

Standing between you and Gwi-Ma now is something untamed.

Jinu’s demon form is fully unleashed.

His skin glows a low, shimmering lilac—lit from within, like starlight trapped under flesh. Deep violet markings fracture across him like lightning frozen in time, etched into his body like ancient scripture. The lines pulse with a rhythm that doesn’t feel human—alive, erratic, too vast to name.

They crawl up his throat, wrap around his neck like a collar of flame, fan across his shoulders and arms in jagged, brutal shapes. His chest rises and falls in heaving bursts, but he doesn’t falter. If anything, he looks more solid than you’ve ever seen him.

More real.

His hands are clawed—curved and gleaming, capable of tearing through steel. His fangs catch the firelight when he snarls, long and bone-white and meant to sink into something. Even the air around him changes, heavier, thrumming with power that buzzes in your bones.

And his eyes—Gods, his eyes—

They’re molten gold, split vertically down the center, shining with a fury so wild, so all-consuming, it doesn’t look like it belongs in this world. Those aren’t the eyes of someone protecting you.

Those are the eyes of someone who saw the thing that tried to take you—and decided to destroy it.

For a second, you can’t breathe.

Because it’s not just rage written across his face—it’s something deeper. Possession. Loyalty. A kind of terrifying, unshakable devotion. He’s not just standing in front of you.

He’s drawing a line in the battlefield.

And everything on the wrong side of it is about to burn.

-------------------------------

You barely register the way Gwi-Ma falters at the sight of him.

But you feel it.

A shift in the air—sharp, almost electric. The fire demon’s body hiccups mid-formation, flames crackling unevenly along his shoulders, one molten arm stuttering as it tries to reform. His golden core pulses too fast, like it’s bracing for impact.

For the first time since the battle began, Gwi-Ma hesitates.

Not because of some clever strategy.

Because of Jinu.

Because whatever he sees standing across from him—lilac skin glowing with ancient markings, golden eyes burning with wrath so focused it borders on divine—it’s enough to make even a creature born of fire and death reconsider.

Jinu doesn’t give him the chance.

He lunges.

No war cry. No warning. Just movement—impossibly fast, like he was launched from the earth itself. One second he's standing; the next, he's a blur of claws and glowing lines, carving through flame like it’s mist.

He crashes into Gwi-Ma with enough force to rupture the stone beneath their feet, claws slamming into molten skin. There’s a flash—fire and magic colliding—a crackling roar as demon meets demon in raw, brutal chaos.

Gwi-Ma howls, staggered.

But Jinu doesn’t stop.

He drives him back with relentless precision—strike after strike, claw after claw, tearing through Gwi-Ma’s forming limbs before they can stabilize. It’s not clean. It’s not elegant.

It’s furious.

It’s the kind of fighting born not from discipline—but from refusal. Refusal to let this thing touch you again. Refusal to let it exist.

And gods, it's working.

For the first time, the fire recoils.

------------------------------

The fight is brutal.

Not fast. Not cinematic. Not the kind of battle you can watch and cheer for.

It’s the kind of violence that silences even the wind.

Jinu doesn’t shout commands or call for backup. He doesn’t bark warnings to the others, doesn’t signal to regroup. He doesn’t speak at all.

He just moves—with unrelenting purpose.

He tears through Gwi-Ma’s fire-hardened body like it’s made of wet paper—still flickering, still fusing itself from the souls it devoured, trying desperately to become solid enough to fight back.

But Jinu doesn’t give it time.

Each strike is fast, deliberate, devastating. His claws don’t just cut—they rend, breaking through half-formed limbs before they can anchor. One swipe splits open Gwi-Ma’s chest in a burst of sparks. Another severs a flaming tendril before it can strike a second time. Every motion is exact. Like he’s not reacting—he’s calculating. Like he's memorized every weak point and is now dismantling the demon piece by piece.

And all the while, the heat doesn’t touch him.

The flames lick at his skin and recoil. They part around him like he’s something older than fire—something it remembers, and fears. The battlefield bends to him, just slightly, like even the broken ground recognizes what’s been unleashed.

You’ve seen the others fight before. You’ve even seen Jinu spar—measured, graceful, held together by discipline.

But this… This is something else.

This isn’t practice. This isn’t strategy. This is personal.

He’s not holding back. Not his strength. Not his speed. Not his rage.

And not the part of himself he’s always kept tucked behind awkward silences, downcast eyes, quiet jokes that barely landed. The part of him that flinched when others flinched at demons. The part he never wanted you to see.

He’s unmade every mask.

And he’s doing it for you.

Not because he wants to be seen. But because you almost died.

And now he’s making sure nothing touches you again.

-----------------------------

You watch, helpless and awed, as the fury unfolds before you—violent, beautiful, and burning itself alive. You try to stand, legs trembling, but your knees nearly give. The air still tastes like smoke and magic—thick and electric—and you can’t stop shaking.

Rumi appears beside you, slipping an arm around your waist before you can fall again. She’s bruised, bleeding from a cut along her jaw, but her grip is steady. Her eyes, though—they’re locked on Jinu.

And for the first time all night, they’re afraid.

“He’s burning himself out,” she says, voice low but urgent. “Look at him.”

You do.

He’s a silhouette of fury—claws flashing, markings flaring bright enough to cast long shadows across the scorched ground. The heat warps the air around him. Every strike comes with a low thunderclap, like his power is cracking against the edges of his own body. Like he doesn’t care if it breaks him.

“He’s not pacing himself,” Rumi mutters. “Not pulling back. Not leaving room to recover.”

She swallows hard.

“He’s not going to stop until Gwi-Ma’s ash.”

You watch as Jinu lands another hit, driving Gwi-Ma backward with a force that rattles through the stone. But his breath stutters. His shoulders hitch.

And suddenly it hits you.

He’s not fighting to survive this.

He’s fighting like you dying would’ve been the end of him.

----------------------------------

The final blow isn’t flashy.

It’s personal.

There’s no spell. No triumphant cry. Just the sound of something ancient being done holding back.

Jinu grabs Gwi-Ma by what remains of his solidifying torso, claws digging past searing flame and cracked bone. The demon writhes, howling as molten limbs twist and reform, trying to survive, trying to claw one more breath out of the ashes.

But Jinu doesn't let go.

He lifts him—his entire body illuminated from within, markings pulsing like a heartbeat—and slams Gwi-Ma into the ground so hard that the cracked stone beneath them splits with a deafening crack. The battlefield shakes. The sky responds with thunder.

And before the demon can pull itself back together—before it can even fully scream—

Jinu drives his claws straight into Gwi-Ma’s core.

Not just into the chest. Into the heart of the thing. The golden flicker at the center of its being—the fire that was never just fire, but every soul it had stolen, every scream it had hoarded.

His claws sink into that light.

And rip.

The fire sputters.

Shudders.

And then—shrinks.

It doesn’t explode. It folds in on itself, like a flame starving for oxygen, collapsing with a desperate, high-pitched whine.

The moment it dies, a pulse of force rolls outward in a perfect ring soft and silent, like the world letting out a breath it had been holding since this all began.

And then—

Gwi-Ma crumbles.

His limbs turn to ash. His twisted face dissolves. The molten veins running through the earth dim, then vanish.

The fire dies.

The air stills.

And the battlefield, for the first time in hours, falls quiet.

It’s over.

-------------------------------

The fire dies.

The air stills.

And the battlefield, for the first time in hours, falls quiet.

You don’t move. No one does.

For a moment, all you can hear is the hush of ash settling.

Somewhere in the distance, someone sobs. A weapon clatters to the ground. The sky—blackened by fire—begins to clear, just slightly.

But your eyes stay fixed on the center of it all.

Jinu is on his knees in the center of the wreckage, shoulders hunched, claws still buried in scorched earth. His chest rises and falls in shallow, ragged breaths. The markings on his body are glitching—bright, then dim, like a light trying to go out but refusing to die.

You move to him slowly.

“Jinu,” you whisper, kneeling in front of him.

He doesn’t lift his head.

“I’m fine,” he says, voice rough and low. “Don’t—don’t look at me like this.”

“Like what?”

“Like I’m still worth trusting.”

His golden eyes flicker up to meet yours, and your chest aches.

You don’t see a monster. You don’t even see the demon.

You see the boy who makes you soup when you’re sick. Who covers your eyes during gory movies even though he’s the one who’s squeamish. Who texts you updates on your favorite shows just so you won’t fall behind.

“I saw what you did,” you say softly. “And all I feel is lucky.”

He flinches at that. “You weren’t supposed to see me like this. I didn’t want to scare you.”

“You didn’t scare me,” you whisper, reaching up to cup his jaw. “You saved me. That’s all I saw.”

He trembles.

And then—you lean in.

You kiss him.

It’s not frantic. Not rushed or desperate.

It’s grounding. Honest. Your lips meet his slowly, carefully, with the same patience he’s always given you. His claws twitch, then still. His breath catches. And the glow in his eyes softens.

When you pull back, he looks wrecked.

“Why?” he whispers.

You brush your thumb along the line of his jaw, where his markings pulse just faintly beneath the skin.

“Because you didn’t scare me,” you say again. “You’ve never scared me, Jinu.”

You pause, then add:

“But if anyone else had gotten between us tonight—I think you would’ve scared them.”

A slow, broken laugh escapes him.

And then, finally, he exhales.

-------------------------------

The fire’s gone. The night is still.

But in the center of the battlefield—surrounded by ash and ruin and moonlight—Jinu lets himself be held.

His claws don’t pull away. His body doesn’t tense. He leans into your arms like he’s never done before, like he doesn’t care who sees the glow beneath his skin, or the jagged markings, or the boy beneath all of it who’s still learning how to be loved.

And for the first time, he lets himself be seen—All of him.

And you don’t look away.

You never would.

-------------------------------

M-List

[cinnamorollcrybaby]

cw - stepcest, dead dove, fem!reader is making rounds with the whole zenin family, stepcousin!naoya x reader, smoking, drinking, mdni

< prev |

the new year’s party is in full swing, and stepdad!toji’s small house is packed.

you’re bobbing and weaving through the crowd, trying to make it upstairs to your room. stepdad!toji was busy playing poker, and stepbrother!megumi was nowhere to be found.

it’s obscenely loud with everyone chatting to each other. someone stops you every few seconds to introduce themselves to you. normally, you’d try and be friendly, but the raging party was so overly stimulating. you just need to have five minutes of peace.

the entire place smells heavily of booze, black and milds, and weed. your head feels like it’s on a tilt-a-whirl. you’d think you’d be used to it since you work at a bar, but even the bar doesn’t smell this offensive.

you sigh with relief as you make it to the hallway, but your relief doesn’t last long as you lock eyes with stepcousin!naoya

he doesn’t look like the rest of the zenin’s. his hair is a lighter dyed blonde with dark undertones, and he has piercings along both his ears and even his nose and lip have metal in them.

stepcousin!naoya who hates crowded family functions, but he isn’t afforded the same opportunity to hide away like stepbrother!megumi. thus, he’s forced to sit at the end of a dark hallway with a cigarette tucked between his lips.

“what are you looking at?” he grunts, flicking his cigarette ash into an empty beer can. even while he taunts you, his eyes take their time slowly following each one of your curves. his tongue lazily runs over his teeth in response.

you freeze, feeling equally as offended as you are intrigued. he doesn’t have the same energy as the other zenin’s. while the rest of the family is rugged and rough around the edges, he almost feels dark and depraved.

“i haven’t figured that out yet,” you stammer, inwardly chiding yourself for not sounding more confident.

stepcousin!naoya chuckles, and he shoves the butt of his cigarette into the aluminum can. he then slowly climbs to his feet, and you take a step back as you realize he’s taller than you thought — taller than stepbrother!megumi but not as tall as stepdad!toji.

“you wanna find out?” he asks, opening up the bathroom door behind him. it’s luckily vacant.

you stare in wide-eyed shock from his boldness. all he had to his name was audacity. “do you normally proposition relatives at family gatherings?” you retort, narrowing your eyes.

stepcousin!naoya bites back a grin. one of his angel bite piercings flex as his lower lip is tucked between his teeth. “no, and you’re not technically a relative.” he takes a calculated step forward. “besides, i bet that hasn’t stopped toji from propositioning you, has it? you’re exactly his fucking type.”

your mind involuntarily reminds you of how toji casually fisted his massive dick right in front of you. you remember just how wet you were, completely soaking through your panties just from watching him.

a coil of unwanted and jealousy settles into your stomach as stepcousin!naoya’s words sink in. “what do you mean i’m his type?”

he immediately scoffs, rolling his eyes. stepcousin!naoya had always hated toji as much as he wanted to be toji. “don’t be so naive. you’re not the first or second problematically young girl to fall for him. it’s too bad, really. he’s too emotionally constipated to ever really care after he has his fill of them.”

your heart lurches in your chest. you don’t know when you started to care — when you started to get attached to stepdad!toji, but it happened. now you’re being told that you’re not even special.

“c’mon, you’re too pretty to be hung up on an old man like him,” stepcousin!naoya says with a slight smirk. he’s a venomous snake who just successfully wrapped around his prey. cocking his head towards the empty bathroom once more, he reaches out and takes your hand. “you’re not the type to just take being played, are you?”

you wrap your fingers around his hand, allowing him to lead you towards the bathroom. fuck stepdad!toji.

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