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invoncible · 23 hours ago

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BLUFF ✰ mark grayson & mohawk mark w/ childhood bsf! fem! reader cw. canon compliant themes (ex. distress)

SUMMARY. when mohawk mark doesn't find debbie at his childhood home, he goes after the next best thing: you. he thinks you're together in this world too, and when he realizes you're not... well, how could he possibly give up such a perfect opportunity? / wc. 10k oops

— i started this to train my writing skills but it got out of hand T-T anyways enjoy <3

You didn't even notice your phone ringing. It must've been the third time it buzzed on your kitchen counter but for the life of you, you could not look away from the news. Invincible was laying waste to all the major cities of the globe, seemingly unprovoked.

Your breath caught when the news broke to process new information, senses finally tuning into the whirring behind you. You swiped your phone, barely glancing at the caller ID before answering.

"Hel—"

"Y/N, thank goodness." Debbie gasped on the other end.

You stood rigid. You've known Debbie your whole life. You and Mark were inseparable growing up—it was a rare occurrence to hear her so unnerved. Her unease was contagious, zapping through the wireless connection and taking root in your conscience.

"Are—" You cleared your throat, clutching the phone tighter. You walked over to the window, dragging down the blinds with two fingers and peeking outside. "Are you okay? You sound—"

"Fine, I'm fine." A shaky exhale was what you were met with, along with the sounds of a car starting up. "Honey, have you seen the news? You need to stay safe." A pause followed, too long to be natural. "Do you have anywhere else to go?"

You scrunched your brows in confusion. "Um... no, I don't. But from what they're saying on the news, the Invincibles are only targeting big cities."

"Listen. If you stay there—" Debbie's line crackled as you assumed she was driving away, far away from the neighborhood and fast. “—‘ll come for you.”

“No, you don’t have to do that. I've got my car if something goes wrong.” You pulled away from your phone, glancing at the call screen when you got no response. "Hello?"

"In light of new footage, we have information that—"

The TV fizzled out next, the low drone of cable replacing rowdy chatter of the newsroom. A low-pixel message of NO SIGNAL floated around the screen, bouncing off the edges.

You stared at yourself in the black reflection, wishing it would flip on again so you weren't alone with your thoughts. The paranoia was setting in... you could hear your heartbeat in your ears.

“Mark is—”

beeeeeep.

"Hello?" You whispered over the phone, desperate for Debbie's familiar comfort. “...Debbie? Mark is what?”

A rhythmic beeeep beep met your ears instead. You glanced at your phone once again—CALL FAILED.

"Ohhhkay." You muttered under your breath. This is fine, you soothed yourself.

The electricity in your house died out, gently setting you into darkness. With the TV signal lost and your phone disconnected, the cell towers and power grid were probably down.

This is fine. As long as you stayed inside, you'd be fine.

You pulled down the blinds once more, letting a shred of the sunset glow into your home. Your gaze travelled to Mark's house; across the street, a couple houses down. So easily accessible yet so distant at the same time.

You and Mark were attached at the hip for seventeen years—your entire lives. Separation should have felt strange. But just two years since growing apart, his absence almost felt... normal.

Almost like he was never there to begin with.

You went off to university. You assumed he did, too, but got more reliable intel when you connected with William. He shared that they both got into Upstate, as well as his girlfriend, Amber.

Girlfriend?

You remember the pause you took to process that information—the moment you realized he was moving forward while you remained where he left you. Facing the reality that you were no longer a part of his life.

"Stop fidgeting," You whispered with a little chuckle. "It's high school, not the end of the world."

"High school is where things start to happen." Mark whined as he pulled down the hem of his sweater. "Grades matter, who you hang out with matters, girls matter."

"Uh-huh."

"You think I would make a good jock?"

"You've got the look for it."

"Dumb?"

"Yes."

Mark rolled his eyes, a smile playing on his lips as you both walked up the steps to the next phase of your life. "That's not very nice."

"You can be anything you want, Mark." You groaned, deciding to be encouraging. "Literally. You're good at everything. You'll fit in wherever you want to."

"Okay. Too nice." He huffed and bumped into your side. "But thanks. I just..."

Your brows furrowed in concern when his head dipped, distress sneaking its way through his cheerful disposition.

"Stuff's supposed to happen this year. Big stuff." He was mumbling, unfocused like he regretted taking the conversation this direction to begin with. "I don't want to mess this up."

You wanted to tell him high school wasn't that deep. There were complete losers that all turned out just fine. Something about his expression, though... it was heavy.

You weren't sure what he was talking about, but you knew what he needed. You always did. "Whatever stuff you're talking about... it's gonna work out. You'll take it one step at a time just like you always have, and you have your parents at your side.... William, me."

He offered you a little smile. "We'll do this together?" He held out his pinky finger.

You giggle and interlocked yours with his. "Together."

He broke that promise pretty quickly. Different classes were the first step apart. From there, it only got harder to see each other.

Family stuff was Mark's favorite excuse—vaguely explaining family stuff had become 90% of your conversations. You figured he didn't want to tell you whatever he was really going through, which was fine. It hurt, but it was fine.

Before you knew it, you stopped talking altogether. You didn't think much of it at first—you were approaching adulthood, obviously you were going to get busy. You just thought you'd get busy together. You didn't even know what he was up to these days.

You drew back from the blinds with a long sigh, hoping that Debbie and Mark were safe. Wherever they were.

You trudged down into the basement to turn the generator on. The wooden stairs of the unfinished space crrrrrreaked under your feet. You waved away the dust, pounding your chest to cough the particles that snuck their way into your airway.

It was cooler down here, much darker without the ambient lighting of the sunset above. With your trusty phone flashlight, you managed to maneuver your way through the storage buckets and old boxes to the backup generator.

You grunted trying to pull the lever down. "Shit..." you cursed in disgust, feeling the grime and dust underneath your palm. i want electricity i want electricity, you repeated over and over to block out the icky sensation.

"Need some help?"

"Ah—!" you shrieked, spinning around in a panic. Your flashlight illuminated the figure in front of you, shadowed by the soft light of open door upstairs. "What—" who—?!

"Damn. Relax."

Vaulting over your initial dread, you grabbed something—a wrench or a hammer, you didn’t know, you didn't care—and swung it with all your might.

They caught it in their fist. Your breath shriveled up in your throat at how stiff they were, intercepting your attack without even budging. Their fingers curled tight around the tool and yanked you close.

"tsk, tsk," Their low voice chuckled. "Thought you'd be happy to see me, pretty girl."

You shone your light into the intruder's face, the tension in your body dissipating when you recognized—

"...Mark?" You squinted in the darkness, the flashlight just barely illuminating his face in a ghastly glow. "Wha... what are you doing here?" You huffed.

Blood was pumping through your system, telling you to get ready to run. Your nerves wouldn't calm their tingle even though you realized it was just Mark. Cuz it was Mark, right?

"Checking on you."

"Where's your mom?"

"Smart enough to leave home."

"Oh, yeah. She called. I thought you'd be with her..." You trailed off, frowning when you heard him laughing. "What?"

"Nothing." He hummed. "You're just so..."

"What?"

"Nothing, nothing."

"Okay..." You gave him a weird look. Then your brain caught up to you: Pretty girl? "Aren't you dating Amber?"

He took a moment to think, tossing the wrench aside and grabbing your wrist in his hand instead. "Am I?"

You pursed your lips, eyes narrowing. "I'm... asking you?"

He shrugged. "I wouldn't know."

"What—" You exhaled, brows knitted in confusion. You tried to pull away but he held firm; for every step back, he followed. "Mark, wait—"

Your phone clattered to the ground, the ray of light spinning chaotically through the darkness before it fell on its back.

"I missed you." He murmured lowly, almost reverent in the way he boxed you against the cold generator. "Shhh..." He calmed your trembling frame with his strong arms (when'd he get so strong?) wrapped around your shoulders.

He burrowed his nose in your hair. "It's me, bunny. Why're you so scared?"

This isn't Mark. Your heart pounded at your chest, eyes frozen and piercing into the darkness over his shoulder—Wake up, dumbass. This isn't Mark.

When your tremors refused to quiet, he pulled back with what you hoped was concern. That's when you saw his hair...

"Is that..." You whispered. The soft light from the main floor was fading, but reflected off the shiny sides of Mark's head. "Are you bald?"

What was he doing in the two years since you saw each other?

"Aw..." He laughed heartily, leaning further towards you and flattening his palms over the top of the generator. "Not quite."

He leaned to your side, breath fanning over the shell of your ear as he continued to snicker to himself softly. He grabbed the lever of the generator and shoved it down.

Your body jostled into his firm chest as it sprung to life. It went clank-clank-clank-clank, pumping electricity back into your home. You heard the melodic trills from upstairs as devices booted up again.

The light in the basement flipped back on. It didn't reach you. Mark towered over you and kept you in shadow. But you could see him—rather, who he wasn't.

"What?" Mohawk Mark grinned down at you, sadistic and teasing. "Not who you were expecting?"

No, not who you were expecting. He looked like Mark, sounded like Mark, felt like Mark... But your Mark had a kind face.

"You're not..."

"Nope."

You felt the heat drain from your body as you simply stared up at him, wide-eyed. Run. Where? Why the fuck was he dressed like ... Invincible...

A connection snapped together in your head, synapses clicking together like legos. Oh. Invincible. Everything made sense now, and you felt a little stupid for not figuring it out sooner.

And now one of those murderous variants you saw on the news was in your home.

"You're really out of it, huh?" He frowned, waving a gloved hand in front of your face. He sighed and looked away, "I thought you'd—"

You had the itch to burst into a sprint. You snatched your phone off the floor and ducked under his arm, skipping stairs to the main floor. Car. Keys? Where the fuck did you put them?

A shuddered whimper tumbled off your lips. You felt helpless, mind racing with too many things at once to pick one task and get out of there. You snatched your purse from the sofa, rifling through it to make sure your keys were inside before going outside.

"Come on, come on," You whispered, out of breath.

"Don't run from me, Y/N," Mohawk Mark sang teasingly, drawing out the last syllable of your name. "Hey, I'm just playing with you."

You screamed anyway, the sound harsh and high-pitched. He pouted, hand firmly around your arm to prevent you from breaking away.

"C'mon, baby. You're hurting my feelings. We're just having fun, yeah? A little roleplay?"

First off, you wished he'd stop calling you things like that. It felt wrong, but... good. With every pet name, he let butterflies loose in your tummy. Your heart pulsed, sending heat to your cheeks. Your brain reminded you, this isn't Mark... this isn't Mark... this isn't the real Mark...

Second, what kinda freaky ass fuck did he turn into?

You rolled out of his grip, barely making it a step away before his arm circled around your stomach, pulling you back into his chest.

"Get the fuck off me—" You squirmed uselessly, your phone and bag tumbling onto the floor. You yelped when he threw you over his shoulder, patting the small of your back affectionately as if securing cargo. "Mark!"

He just laughed, taking off through the door at a abnormal speed. Your nose smushed into his back under the acceleration, stomach somersaulted twenty times over as you soared up into the clouds.

He stopped in the air. With a hoarse shriek you clung to him as if he was your lifeline. He was, in this moment, despite everything. Your legs immediately latched around his waist, and he supported you with hands under your thighs.

"Oh, come on, now." He chuckled with a shake of his head. He easily held you and brought a hand to wipe your cheeks. "I'm just playing around. If I'd known you were this sensitive, I would've taken it a little bit easier on you..."

You hadn't even realized you started crying.

He stared at you, eyes trailing over your face. He laughed softly to himself. "Who am I kidding. No, I wouldn't have. You know how cute you are when you cry?"

You glared at him but his grin only grew wider. "What? M'not gonna hurt you! Haven't I shown you that?"

You stared at him incredulously, finally finding your voice and blowing up at him. Your fists curled, pounding at his chest and jabbing a finger in his face. "You broke into my home and have me hanging 100ft in the air?!"

"So? I'm not dropping you, am I?" You felt his fingers tap against your thigh.

"That—" Your cheeks burned. but from being embarrassed or flustered, you couldn't quite place.

"This world's Mark is the biggest piece of shit for leaving girlfriend all alone."

You blinked, "Girlfriend?"

"Yeah, you're..." Mark's head tilted, sharp eyes acutely aware of your confusion. "Ohhh. Don't tell me that fucker didn't lock you down."

You didn't even know what to say. Things were being thrown at you left and right and you were still on the fact that Mark was Invincible. Your mind rifled through all the headlines that had his name... all that pain, death, and destruction... and how you weren't there for him.

He clicked his tongue in disappointment. "Well. I'm a better version, anyway."

[]

The sun finally set on day 2 the war with no hope in sight. Mark just admitted Eve into the hospital—she stubbornly decided to help him with two of his variants and paid the price. Her broken leg was under construction, and she was unconscious.

Mark sighed as he closed the door behind him, looking up to see Cecil waiting for him in the hallway.

"You can't be here, kid."

Mark scowled. "The other Invincibles know about this place. They could kill her to get at me. I... can't lose another friend. I won't."

After Amber, Mark wanted to be with Eve. It was the next logical step, right? Both superheroes, went through a lot together, understood each other... But he couldn't bring himself to do it. Not even under Future Eve's advice.

Not when he still held space for you in his heart.

He was an asshole for it, he knew that. He couldn't put a date to the last time you spoke and he selfishly held onto your memory. Were you pining for him like he was pining for you?

His time with Amber taught him a lot. He wasn't going to make you suffer like she did. He wasn't going to ruin the friendship he had with you just because he selfishly wanted your love.

"We're losing this, Mark." Cecil sighed, snapping Mark out of his thoughts. The bruise on his face throbbed with every word. "The world needs you."

"You got every superhero on the planet fighting for you right now." Mark shot back angrily, shutting his eyes only to see you behind his lids.

"Mark. Oliver's out there. Your mother's out there." Cecil pressed, pulling out his phone. "Which reminds me. She left a voicemail."

With his interest successfully piqued, Mark listened as his mother's panicked voice played over Cecil's device.

"I can't reach Mark—if you see him, tell him I'm at Paul's. Oliver insisted on going out there, and I let him on the condition he finds his big brother."

Mark's gaze dropped down to the floor guiltily, a war of emotions swirling inside him.

"I couldn't stop him if I tried. He was going to sneak out anyway, but..." A sharp inhale. "I'm worried. I know they're strong, I know that. But these other versions... they're nothing like Mark." Seconds of silence passed as she collected her thoughts. "Can you check on someone for me? If all these Marks grew up the same, there's a childhood friend on our street that he was never without. I tried to reach her but service went down. Please."

Cecil pulled back his phone. "I already sent agents to her home—"

Mark's head snapped up, gritting his teeth in annoyance. "What did I say about going near my family?"

"I wasn't aware she was family." Cecil raised an eyebrow, pocketing his device and pulling down his cuffs.

"They're my responsibility. She's my responsibility." Mark retorted, running a anxious hand through his hair.

"A thank you would be nice." Cecil mumbled, unperturbed by the boy's argument. "Seeing as you are currently shirking said responsibility."

"Don't—" Mark lurched forward, a threat on his tongue. Cecil flinched backwards, his hand firmly in his pocket finding his controller.

Mark pulled back, dropping his fist. "...Just shut the fuck up, Cecil." He blasted off through the halls.

Cecil watched him leave with bated breath, exhaling slowly when he got the intel that Mark was off the grounds. At least he was out there.

[]

"I killed the Guardians, yeah."

"All of them?"

"Yeah. No big deal."

You raised your eyes in surprise but the notion wasn't as gruesome as you thought it would be. Blinded by love, maybe? Or were you just happy to be talking to Mark again, regardless of the version?

Hours ago, you couldn't imagine sitting in your bedroom with the man who invaded your home. But, genuinely, what were you supposed to do? Pick a fight and lose? Worse, die? You weren't so stupid to waste the goodwill he held for you.

"What happened to me in your world?" You asked, your voice quieter now.

Mark tilted his head, exhaling through his nose. His jaw flexed, like the memory alone was an irritation.

"The resistance killed you to get at me," he muttered, his voice dark, laced with something sharp and unhinged. The crazed gleam in his eye flickered under the dim lighting, like a fire burning just beneath the surface. Then, with an almost amused sigh, he shifted his weight, offering you a small, self-satisfied smile. "Don't worry. I made them pay for it."

You didn’t bother asking how.

Mark’s arm stretched behind you, draping lazily across the back of the pillows, his fingers idly toying with the fabric of your sleeve. Every casual brush of his fingertips sent a ripple of goosebumps across your skin.

"We were a good thing, you know," he mused, voice lower now, softer. gentle. "You didn’t fight me. You didn’t run. You loved me." There was a teasing lilt in his voice that you recognized.

That’s not so different here, you swallowed the thought, masking it with a roll of your eyes. "Did you love me?"

That made him pause. His gaze flicked to yours, brows furrowing slightly, like the question had caught him off guard. Then a slow smirk tugged at his lips, amusement flashing in his expression before he let out a low chuckle.

He leaned in so close you could feel his breath ghost over your lips. "Let me show you," he murmured, voice dark and filled with intent.

The air between you tightened as his hand trailed from your sleeve, fingers dragging along the bare skin of your arm, slow and deliberate. His touch was light, teasing, like he was waiting for you to react—to pull away or lean in.

You offered him nothing but a careful stare and the slow rise and fall of your chest.

His eyes narrowed, delighting in the challenge. His nose brushed against yours, his lips lingering just shy of touching.

Pull away, your brain screamed at you, ringing every warning bell it had in the book. This isn't right.

But his other hand came up, grazing along your jaw... and his fingers slid beneath your chin, tilting your head up, forcing you to meet his eyes... all of it felt so familiar, like something out of a dream. And it'd been so long since you saw his brown wells, you couldn't tear your gaze away.

Your daze was broken when you heard him laugh again. He adored the way you frowned in confusion, the moonlight twinkling in the reflection of your eyes.

“Aww,” he cooed, lips curving into a knowing smirk. “look at you. So easy. This world’s Mark has left you all alone, hasn’t he?”

Your chest rose and fell with uneven breaths as he tilted his head, watching you squirm.

“S'like you’ve been waiting for this," he hummed. His hand gripped your chin, tilting your face up, forcing you to look at him. His eyes darkened at whatever he saw.

“I’ll take care of you,” he murmured, brushing his lips over yours—you could feel him smiling. “Since he won’t.”

Stop, stop, stop. You wanted Mark, wanted him desperately, but not like this. Not with him.

You released the breath you were holding when he paused his fixation on your lips, head turning minutely to the side as if he was hearing something.

"For fuck's sake..." Mark scoffed, a low chuckle passing through his lips. "Speak of the devil."

What?

Mohawk Mark heard the whistle of air before you did, only clueing in when it grew louder. It reached a peak when a projectile CRASHED through your window—

You scrambled backwards on your mattress as splinters flew everywhere. Mark caught you before you tumbled off the bed, shielding you from the broken glass and wood.

"What's—" You began to ask, but over Mark's shoulder you saw him—the real Mark.

You just stared at each other for a moment, though you couldn't see much past his tinted goggles. But the slow scowl growing on his lips communicated all you needed to know.

"What the fuck are you doing here?" Mark—the real one—growled. "Get off her."

Mohawk Mark laughed into your shoulder, turning to face him. "Why? She's not yours, is she?"

Mark's eyes twitched behind his goggles, abandoning his inhibitions and diving at him, grabbing his variant's hair and yanking him off of you—

"Mark..." you warned, fear bubbling in your gut.

—your caution fell on deaf ears; Mark threw him up and drove him through the floor.

"Mark!" you yelled behind him, feeling the air whip past your face, following him as he crashed into the living room below. "Shit—"

Squeaking as you fought against the slope of the cavity, your feet, only clad in socks, provided the worst possible grip and you began slipping down the gap. Your breath caught in your chest as you felt yourself plummeting—

"Hey." His voice was urgent yet comforting, his arms tightening around your body in seconds, pulling you back from the edge. "I got you."

Your hand instinctively gripped his shoulder, grounding yourself as you realized you were suspended in his embrace. As he gently descended to the floor, your eyes moved quickly, scanning the outline of his goggles.

"You... I guess you know now, then." His voice was low, heavier than usual, like a weight he’d been carrying finally released.

The moment your feet met the ground, you stepped back, your heart pounding. Across the room, Mohawk Mark was sprawled on the floor, blood leaking from his nose, unconscious for now. Your gaze flicked back to your Mark, heart still racing.

"Yeah, I know." You snapped, the anger rushing through you, the frustration and confusion bubbling up.

His expression faltered, something unreadable flashing across his face before he sighed, almost too quietly, as if he were disappointed in himself.

"You’re angry," he observed, his voice tinged with regret.

"No shit, I’m angry!" Your hand shot out, slapping against his chest before it balled into a fist at your side. Every inch of you was yelling at him, every question, every unspoken feeling, everything that had been left unsaid for the past two years. "The first time I've seen you in two years and it's—it's not even you?"

"I know, I know," Mark’s hands moved to his mask, tearing it off with an impatience that only grew when it caught on his nose. He grimaced as he yanked it free, tossing it to the side. The dim light of the room revealed the exhaustion etched into his face, but even through that, you could see him—the real him, just... different. Worn down, tired.

"I can explain."

"You better fuckin start."

"Be mad at me all you want, but look at this." His arms gestured wildly around your place. "I was right to not tell you! It could've been way worse, way sooner if you knew anything about what I was really up to. Why didn't you leave when Mom called you?!"

"The phone cut off, asshole, I didn't hear everything she said, and I certainly wasn't aware that you were the one behind Invincible—"

He shook his head, dismissing the topic. He stepped into your space and held onto your arms. "Did he touch you?"

"Get off me."

"Did he touch you?" He pressed, shaking you slightly as his grip tightened around your biceps.

You blinked at him, caught off guard by the urgent crack in his voice. "Yes, but I let him."

He pulled away from you as if burnt. A heavy silence hung in the air, nothing but the clattering of broken floorboards crashing down from above.

"...He's a murderer, Y/N." He whispered, eyes narrowed.

You knew that. You knew he was right. "I was... vulnerable."

"He killed people—"

"Shut up," You snapped, cutting him off. "Don't lecture me; this is a nonissue. What was I supposed to do? Hm? Want me to pick up my fists and come out swinging like you did—"

"I thought he was hurting you!"

"My hero." You rolled your eyes, the words dripping with bitter sarcasm. You knew you were being unfair, maybe a little cruel, but you couldn’t stop yourself. You were exhausted from the many near death experiences you've somehow survived in the last few hours. Strung so tight you felt like you might snap.

Every inch of you was begging to cry and let him hug you like you both so clearly wanted... but the fact that it took something this bad to get him to show up? That hurt more than anything.

Mark stared at you, his face an amalgamation of emotions, like he couldn’t decide on one.

Should he be angry at you for being difficult, for making him work for this moment when all he wanted was to explain? Should he feel pain, the sharp ache in his chest that another Mark got to hold you before he did? Or was it jealousy, searing heat into his face, that another version of himself had been the one to touch you, to be close to you before he had the chance? Maybe... maybe it was the bittersweet happiness, the relief that he was finally standing here in front of you.

He didn’t even care that you were glaring daggers at him—he missed staring into your eyes, albeit hardened and displeased, making his heart race; the way you’d furrow your brow when you were frustrated, the way your voice would call out to him.

Mark’s hand twitched at his side, wanting to reach out, but he held himself back. Would you even allow it? The distance between you was far more than physical. He had a thousand things to say but in that moment, words felt hollow.

“Don’t look at me like that,” he finally muttered, his voice quieter, more vulnerable than he intended.

Childish.

You scoffed lightly, rolling your eyes again. "All that time and that's all you have to—"

Before you could finish, your world spun. The floor tilted beneath you as Mohawk Mark launched himself into you, sweeping you off your feet and through the door.

[]

"Y/N!" Mark yelled after you, breathing heavy in a panic. "No, no, no, no—" He launched himself from your home, bursting through the roof after you.

You barely heard him over the rushing wind. You clawed at Mohawk Mark's back, the height siphoning the air from your lungs. "Stop..." You ordered weakly.

"Changed your mind already?" He laughed, cradling you in his arms. Your head lolled against his chest. "Don't tell me you buy his bullshit."

"Mm..." The sharp ascent from ground level to the clouds made your head spin, vision darkening as you grew dizzier.

"You're fucking dead!" Your Mark came out of nowhere, shooting up beside Mohawk Mark and bashing his nose in. With a pained groan, he dropped you. "Shit—"

"Look what you made me do, dipshit!" Mohawk Mark snarled, shoving Invincible away and bolting after you.

"Don't—" Mark growled in frustration, racing against time. He watched as your limp body dropped helplessly against gravity.

It never changed. Whether he told you or not, you would end up in these perilous situations regardless. He cursed under his breath, catching Mohawk Mark's ankle and catapulting him into the night sky before pushing forward.

He collected you in his arms before it was too late, wasting no time as he shifted his direction and carried you off to GDA's hospital.

[]

The steady beep... beep... beep of your heart monitor was the first thing you tuned into upon waking up.

"Oh, good."

Your eyes fluttered open, slowly drifting towards Mark. He was bent over your cot, his hand on your forehead while staring down at you with stars in his eyes.

"You just passed out. Nothing serious, but I wanted to make sure." He mumbled, pulling back.

Your eyes drifted back to the ceiling, unfocused and hollow. There was too much—too much to process, too much to feel, too much weighing down on your chest all at once. It pressed against your ribs, thick and suffocating, a tidal wave crashing over you before you could even take a breath. Every nerve in your body screamed with something—fear, exhaustion, embarrassment, confusion—but it all blended together into one overwhelming, crushing force. Your mind was shutting down for its own sake.

The sounds around you dulled into distant echoes, the weight of your own limbs barely registering. Your chest rose and fell, but it felt mechanical.

"Y/N?" Mark whispered, brows furrowing in concern. "Hey." he poked your shoulder.

You shook your head, turning away from him as tears pooled in your eyes. God, you felt so embarrassed.

Mark frowned when you shifted away from him, any comfort he planned to offer dying in his throat. "I'm... sorry." was all he could say.

Nothing.

His leg bounced nervously, chewing at his lip as he fought with his own emotions. "I want to kill him for putting hands on you."

Your brows tightened. Not what you wanted to hear either.

He sighed heavily, running his hands through his hair. "M'sorry for blowing up at you. It's not your fault—"

"It is." You sniffled. "I missed you... so much, that I pretended that he was you..." you choked on the words, turning your back to him and burying your face into the pillow. "How pathetic is that?"

Mark's heart squeezed, kicking off his shoes and climbing onto the bed next to you. "Stop. Not your fault." He reiterated.

You scoffed and shook your head, laughing wryly. He frowned, and pulled you to face him. He saw your tears and felt his own pile up behind his eyes.

"I'm sorry." He whispered. "I told my.... uh, last relationship that I was Invincible. It didn't end well for her, and I didn't want to put you in that same position. Always unsure, always in danger, always waiting..."

"I'm not her, Mark." You muttered.

"I know." He pursed his lips. "I was gone for months at a time—"

"I waited two years for you, didn't I?" You pushed away from him and sunk back into the cot. "You didn't even give me a chance."

Childish. That’s how you sounded. Because in the end, that’s all you two were—two kids who once grew up side by side finding each other once more, with all the petulant hurt coming through the surface.

A beat of silence passed between you, with nothing but your heart monitor to keep the time.

"You said he touched you." He started.

You sighed, pinching the bridge of your nose. "...don't bring that up."

"No, I want to know." He shifted his weight, hovering over you. His face was painted with something foreign, green-eyed and greedy. "Show me."

Heat blossomed on your face as you lay in his shadow. "Mark..." You laughed nervously. "It was barely anything."

"You missed me so much you had to settle for that." Mark didn't look away from you for a second. "I want to give you the real thing."

You screwed your face up. Again, the thought passed through your mind: you wanted Mark, but not like this. "I don't want this to be a pity thing."

"No," Mark shook his head firmly. "not pity. Everything I feel for you has been there since... since I can remember. And it fucking boils my blood that a different version of me got to you before I had the balls to do it myself. Please," he whispered. "I need this."

"Need what?"

"You." He answered, like the answer was obvious. To him, it was. "I'm done waiting around."

You blinked at him before a soft smile spread across your face. "Me too."

Mark's lips brushed against yours with a gentleness that made your heart ache. He cupped your face in his hands, and you melted into him, your arms wrapping around his neck.

You let out a soft sigh when his lips parted slightly, allowing you both to breathe. You pressed forward, kissing him harder, feeling the intensity of everything that had been building between you over the years—years of longing, of waiting, of wanting something more.

Mark responded with equal hunger, his hands sliding down your back, pulling you closer. His chest rose and fell with each breath, his heart pounding against yours.

Where had he touched you? Mark didn't care anymore. By the time he was done with you, you'd know his touch and his alone, and he'd know every inch of you like the back of his hand. He wasn't leaving this room without it. He was allowing himself to be selfish for once; for you, it was worth it.

He sat back on his haunches, tugging his gloves off by his teeth before diving back into you, sliding his bare fingers underneath your shirt, sighing into your mouth as he squeezed your skin in his palm.

"You'll never need anyone ever again," He nosed your cheek, trailing kisses down your jaw to your neck. "Promise."

This time, you believed him.

— wayyy too self indulgent lmk if it was boring at places :)

#invincible #invincible show #mark grayson #invincible x reader #mark grayson x reader #invincible season 3 #mohawk mark #mohawk mark x reader #invincible variants #invincible war #invincible variants x reader

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maskedbyghost · 1 day ago

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You and Simon aren’t together. Never have been. Never talked about it, never even thought about it.

You just click. You always have. It started as a mission thing—paired up for some op because Price figured you worked well together, and then it just… stuck. You got each other in ways that didn’t need explaining. You liked the same things, moved the same way, anticipated each other’s actions before they happened. You didn’t have to tell him what you needed in the field, and he never had to ask you to cover him. It was easy. Comfortable. The kind of thing that felt natural before you even noticed it happening.

And then it bled into everything else. Eating together. Training together. Sitting next to each other on long flights, in debriefs, in the rare downtime you got between missions. It was never planned, never discussed. Just a thing that happened, like muscle memory. If you were in a room, Simon was there too, and if he wasn’t, he was on his way.

The others noticed, of course. Soap especially. He was the loudest about it, but even Gaz had taken to shooting you both pointed looks when you showed up somewhere at the same time, or when you answered Simon’s half-formed thoughts like you knew what he was going to say before he said it.

Which, honestly, you usually did.

It all comes to a head one evening, the lot of you gathered in one of the common rooms, half-done with the day but not quite ready to call it a night. You and Simon are on the couch, shoulder to shoulder, idly watching something on the TV while Soap, sitting across from you both, groans into his hands.

“You two make me sick.”

You blink at him. “We’re literally just sitting here.”

“That’s the problem!” Soap gestures wildly. “You do everything together. You finish each other’s bloody sentences. You know what the other is thinking. And you’re just—what? Friends?” He scoffs. “Aye, and I’m the Queen of England.”

Simon leans back, tilting his head slightly. “Don’t think you’ve got the legs for a crown, mate.”

Gaz snorts. Price, watching from his spot near the door, only shakes his head like he’s seen this conversation play out a hundred times before. (He has.)

Soap ignores them, pointing a finger between you and Simon like he’s solving some grand mystery. “There’s only one thing you haven’t done,” he declares. “You just need to kiss. That’s it. Only thing missing.”

Silence.

You turn your head. Simon is already looking at you.

There’s nothing in his expression that gives anything away—no smirk, no challenge, no humor in his eyes. He’s just watching you, waiting. And then, with a tiny shrug, he leans in and kisses you.

It’s short, unhurried. Just a press of his lips against yours, like it’s the most natural thing in the world. When he pulls back, his eyes are still on you, searching.

You don’t react. Not outwardly, anyway. You can feel Soap’s disbelief burning into the side of your face, hear the noise he makes—the strangled mix between a gasp and an outraged protest—but you don’t acknowledge it. Instead, you look back at Simon, forcing yourself to stay still even as your heart does something stupid in your chest.

Because, sure, maybe this was just to mess with Soap. Maybe it meant nothing. Maybe it was a joke.

But it didn’t feel like one.

Simon smirks and leans back, turning his attention back to the TV like nothing happened. “Happy now?”

Soap looks like he’s reconsidering every life decision that led him to this moment. “What the fuck?”

—

Later, when Simon walks you back to your room, he’s quieter than usual. His hands are in his pockets, his head tilted down slightly like he’s working through something in his mind.

“I wasn’t trying to make things weird,” he says after a beat. “Didn’t mean—well, didn’t want you to think it was—”

He stops, exhales sharply through his nose. “Just don’t want you to be mad.”

You glance at him. “I’m not mad.”

He nods, but his mouth pulls into something uncertain, like he doesn’t believe you. “Good. That’s—good.”

You reach your door and turn to face him fully. He’s still looking at you, his usual easy confidence nowhere to be found. And it’s funny, really, how the thought of kissing you in front of everyone hadn’t made him hesitate, but now? Now, he’s hesitating. Now, he’s thinking too hard about it. About you.

So before he can say anything else, you push up onto your toes and kiss him.

It’s quick, barely a breath between you before you pull back, but the impact is immediate. Simon’s lips part slightly, his brows drawing together like he can’t quite process what just happened.

You step back, hand on your door handle, and give him a small nod. “Goodnight, Simon.”

Then you slip inside, shutting the door behind you, leaving him standing there in the hallway, staring at the empty space where you just were.

And for once, Simon doesn’t have a single thing to say.

----------------------------------------

@daydreamerwoah @ghostslollipop @kylies-love-letter

#simon ghost riley x you #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley x you #simon ghost riley #simon ghost riley x female oc #simon riley x reader #simon riley imagine #simon riley #cod x reader #cod mw2 #cod

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cottoncandywoof · 2 hours ago

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👉👈 ive been trying my best... i think partly it helped to be poor, since i couldnt really get references done, so i was like "fine... ill do it myself". and seeing improvement has been... insane. ive been sometimes sad about my own art, but... some of the latest things actually working?? wheww

Appreciation post for all the beginner artists who work hard despite the AI looming over us. You are fabulous. You are precious. Keep up the hard work, you are needed.

#im also so jaded about ai #i start to think the world is terrible #i look at people made art #and its just... a breath of fresh air #a while back i went to a museum #i was having an ai convo beforehand #(pixel knows about this lmaoo. i be talking about it...)#and then i went into the painting exhibits #and i was speechless #its as if i was out of air #i kept looking so deeply #trying to think about how they mustve felt when making them #my friend went to school for art #so he was seeing the techniques and what they mustve been trying to do with the materials/tools #he got me talking #we both had different perspectives #but came together beautifully as we conversed about the paintings #it was a religious experience #art is so inherently *human*#not like. just on paper art. not just actual physically made art #but also the understanding of the beauty of things #like the sky when it dusks #yeah ai art can look “good” or whatever #but even if it does #thats not what art is *about*#maybe im rambling. maybe i lost the plot.#but there are cathedrals for everyone with eyes to see them #its not about just looking good. or about money. money is a good bonus (and art is a luxury that should be paid well)#but at the end of the day.the artist who made the work youre paying for put effort into it. and put effort into getting there to give you it #ccw rambles

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daryltwdixon · 2 days ago

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Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 4.5

Summary: Tensions rise as the three of you try to find clarity in the aftermath of lines crossed and feelings laid bare. In the weeks that follow, you begin to wonder if something this messy could still become something that lasts.

|| smut MDNI 18+, some mentions of pregnancy, angst and feelings, some fluff, dirty talk, pinv, blowjobs, love triangle (?), no outbreak, jealousy, possessiveness, power play, joel talks you thru it of course, fair warning this isn’t exactly healthy, bad communication, don’t do this ok || notes: eeeehhehe okay I love this one. its a long boy! I listened to you and didn’t delete any of it lmao I love this dynamic so much and it makes me so happy to know everyone is as filthy as I am // pic of Joel & Tommy is mine //

“So, when you saw them, what went through your head, Tommy?” Dr. Servopoulos asked. The office was neat, almost unnervingly so. The walls were bare except for a few framed photos—serene lakes, white sailboats drifting across still water. A false sense of calm in a space built for unraveling things that weren’t calm at all. The air smelled faintly of old books and lavender, a weak attempt to soften the weight of conversations like this.

It had taken a lot to convince either of the men beside you to come today.

Bringing anyone into this mess was hard enough, but laying it bare for someone outside the three of you, having someone watch, analyze, pick apart what happened behind closed doors felt like something private was being dissected under a microscope.

Joel hated this. You knew he hated this. He was a man who carried his feelings in silence, whose apologies lived in things left unsaid. He didn't do this—didn’t sit in stiff chairs like this, in stuffy offices like this, didn't put words to things that made his throat tight. Yet, he still agreed to be here.

And Tommy—you knew this was hard for him too. Not just because of what had happened, but because sitting here, having someone else pick at the wounds, meant acknowledging that things weren’t okay. That they couldn’t just fix it themselves. That you had invited someone in to see the cracks that had formed over the past few months.

It made the walls feel closer, the chairs feel stiffer, the quiet feel too loud.

You watched Tommy as he sighed beside you, his fingers rubbing at his brow. His eyes flickered to the doctor before dropping to the floor. “I don’t even remember,” he muttered. “S’like I’ve blocked it all out.” He exhaled sharply, shaking his head. “I do remember the right hook I gave ‘im when Joel was tryna say somethin’ to me.” His voice darkened. “Ya know. When they were finally dressed.”

The last word dripped with bitterness.

You flinched. Your fingers curled together in your lap, knuckles pressing tight.

Joel shifted beside you, the slight movement drawing your attention. He sat stiff in his chair, his thumb rubbing absently at the bruised, purple swell on his cheek—the evidence of Tommy’s fury. He hadn’t said a single word since the session started.

You cleared your throat, forcing yourself to meet the doctor’s gaze. “Dr. Servopoulos—”

“Tess,” she offered smoothly.

“Tess,” you amended. “We never meant… this was never supposed to get this far. I just want him to know I never—” You turned to look Tommy in the eyes. “I never intended for this to happen.”

Tommy let out a rough scoff, shaking his head. His arms crossed over his chest. “Yeah, well, neither did I.”

A quiet beat.

Tess glanced at Joel then, waiting.

Joel felt the weight of her stare and finally looked up. His dark eyes met hers, unreadable.

Tess raised a brow. “Anything to add?”

His jaw ticked. “What d’you want me to say?”

“You tell me, Mr. Miller.” Tess mused, tapping her pen against her notepad. “What about how you ended up sleeping with your brother’s wife?”

Joel exhaled slowly through his nose. His knuckles flexed. “Didn’t start out that way.”

Tess hummed. “Right.” She flipped to a page of her notes. “So let’s lay this out. You—” she nodded at you, “wanted a baby. You—” she pointed at Tommy, “were willing to ask your own brother to be a sperm donor, which then turned into you—” she turned to Joel, “what, just doing your brother a favor? By sleeping with his wife?”

Joel’s fingers drummed against his knee. “I did say no at first. But yeah, somethin’ like that.”

Tommy mumbled under his breath, “Yeah. A real big favor.”

You swallowed.

Tess scribbled something down. “Okay,” she said, flipping her pen between her fingers. “So when you three agreed to try for a baby in this… hands-on way, you never foresaw the possibility of… complications?”

You shook your head, stomach twisting.

“Not once?”

“I didn’t think about it,” you admitted, voice small. “I thought we were just—we were focused on the baby.”

Tommy snorted, rubbing a hand down his face. “Yeah? Well, neither of you seemed focused on it when you were sneakin’ around.”

You flinched again.

Joel finally looked up at him, his expression dark. “We weren’t sneakin’.”

“Sure as hell felt like it,” Tommy shot back.

Tess sighed, leaning forward, her gaze flicking between the three of you. “Alright, let’s just call it what it is: things got complicated. Lines that were there for a reason got crossed. And the problem wasn’t you trying for a baby—it was everything that happened outside of that agreement.”

She gestured between you and Joel. “You broke the boundaries you set. Maybe you ignored it, maybe you thought you could handle it, but now you’re here. And not because the plan failed, but because you broke your own rules. You had sex outside of what you all agreed to.”

A brief pause. Her eyes scanned each of you, as if silently asking any of you to deny it, before she tilted her head.

“So let’s cut to it. Why are you here? What do each of you actually want?”

Tommy exhaled sharply, shaking his head. “I don’t know, okay?” His voice cracked slightly. “I just—I ain’t ready to throw away my marriage, but I also ain’t stupid enough to pretend like nothin’ happened.”

Tess nodded, absorbing his words before turning to you. “And you?”

Your throat felt tight. “I—” Your hands fisted in your lap. “I don’t want to lose either of them.”

Tommy’s head snapped toward you.

Joel’s fingers twitched.

You swallowed, your voice steadier now. “My marriage with Tommy is important to me. He is important to me.” You turned toward your husband, eyes pleading. “But things are complicated. Because Joel is important too.” You hesitated, shifting your gaze to Joel’s hands, his knuckles tight and white where they pressed together. “I don’t want to just cut him out of this just because of one mistake.”

Tommy’s jaw ticked, but he didn’t interrupt. His fingers drummed against his knee, his gaze flickering between you and Joel like he was waiting for something.

Tess sat forward slightly, pen poised. “And Joel?”

Joel dragged a hand down his face, exhaling through his nose. “I don’t wanna make things worse than they already are,” he muttered, voice low, unreadable.

Tess hummed, unimpressed. “That’s not really an answer.”

His fingers tapped against his knee. “Ain’t got another one.”

You turned toward him, heart pounding. “Joel.”

His jaw flexed, his eyes staying downcast away from you.

You didn’t push right away, letting the silence stretch between you before trying again, voice softer this time. “What do you want?”

His throat worked, but he didn’t speak.

Tess glanced between you both. “It doesn’t have to be a speech, Joel. Just say what’s in your head.”

Joel breathed in a slow, heavy breath, rubbing the heel of his hand over his mouth. His fingers dragged across the stubble on his jaw. When he finally looked up, his eyes locked onto his brother. “I know what we agreed to,” he said, voice steady but low. “I know this was supposed to be your kid, that I was just…” He trailed off for a second, shaking his head, like the word didn’t sit right with him. “That I was just helpin’.”

The room felt very still.

Joel shifted, his knuckles flexing against his knee. “But shit changed, Tommy.” His voice roughened. “I can’t just—" He exhaled sharply, shoulders tensing. “I won’t just step back like this don’t mean nothin’ to me.”

The weight of it settled between all of you. Tommy’s knee bounced, his hands gripping his own upper arms where they were crossed. His mouth pressed into a hard line, but he didn’t speak, didn’t argue.

Joel swallowed, gaze flicking downward for a second before lifting again. “I ain’t askin’ for—” He hesitated, his jaw flexing like the words were hard to force out. “I don’t even know what I’m askin’ for.” His eyes flickered to Tommy’s. “But I do know I ain’t gonna be left out to dry.”

“No one said you would be,” you tried to soothe, your hand reaching to rest on his forearm, shaking your head. His skin was rough, warm, solid beneath your touch.

Your eyes traced the worn lines of his face, the quiet tension in his jaw as he looked at his brother. He was handsome in a way that felt etched into him, shaped by time and hardship, by everything he’d carried.

And you knew—better than anyone—how much Tommy meant to him. That neither of them trusted anyone as much as they trusted each other. That this needed to be amended before anything else could carry on between the two of you. You took your hand away from his arm.

Tess let out a slow breath. “Okay,” she murmured, nodding slightly. “Thank you, Joel. I think everyone needed to hear that.”

Joel’s fingers flexed again, and this time, his gaze flicked toward you, studying you for the first time since you arrived. There was something there—a charge, a quiet pull that hadn’t been there before. Or maybe it had, and you were only noticing it now, now that everything had changed.

You let the silence stretch as you kept your eyes on his, trying to read between everything he wasn’t saying. That he wanted to be part of this, that he wasn’t going to give this up easily.

Then Tommy sighed, rubbing a hand down his face. “Alright,” he muttered, shaking his head. “Then we gotta figure out what the hell we’re actually doin’ here.”

Tess tapped her pen against her notepad. “Right. So let’s talk about our options.”

“Options?” Tommy echoed, his voice edged with skepticism.

Tess nodded, uncrossing her legs only to recross them the other way. She leaned forward slightly. “The way I see it, there are ways to make this work—even if none of them are simple.” She flipped to a fresh page in her notebook. “But make no mistake: it’s going to take work.”

Her pen tapped lightly against the paper as she continued. “Let’s start with the obvious: you can walk away from this entirely, go your separate ways—but none of you seem too eager to do that. Or, you and Tommy could stay together, work on the marriage, and Joel can remain in the background. Be some kind of father figure to this child and nothing more.”

She lifted a brow and looked directly at him. “But I’m not sure, with how far this has gotten, that that’s actually what you want.”

Joel didn’t answer right away. His jaw worked, tension shifting through his shoulders as his eyes dropped to the floor.

Then, quiet but certain, Joel said, “It’s not.”

Your chest tightened. The urge to reach for him surged again, stronger this time, but you didn’t move. You let him sit in the silence he’d chosen, even as it said more than anything else could.

Tess gave a small nod, like she’d expected that answer.

Joel didn’t elaborate. Didn’t look up. But the shift in the room was immediate. Whatever this had started as—it wasn’t just about the baby anymore.

Tess paused, giving the moment space before she spoke again.

“So the third option…How do we feel about the possibility of an open relationship?”

The silence that followed was thick, charged.

Tommy looked at you. You looked at him. Then at Joel. Joel stared at the floor, his jaw tight, expression unreadable.

Tess leaned her elbows on her knees, voice calm but direct. “I’ll be honest—I rarely see that work in situations like this. But it’s an option. If you’re willing to set clear, honest boundaries—and actually respect them.”

Tommy let out a breathy, humorless laugh, running a hand down his face again. “Boundaries. We’d need real ones this time. Ones that actually get followed.” His voice was edged, not cruel, but firm. “Not just shit we say and then ignore the second someone gets all… worked up.”

You tried not to let the flush creep onto your face as you kept your eyes on Tess as she went on.

“Now, let’s talk about Sarah.”

Joel immediately stiffened, his eyes shooting up to look at the doctor. Tommy did too.

“She doesn’t need to know about any of this,” Joel said, voice sharp.

“Not right now,” Tommy agreed. He turned to his brother, “But eventually, she’s gonna ask questions. And if we’re talkin’ about raising a baby together too, we can’t just not think about how this looks to her.”

Tess nodded, writing something down. “And if you don’t figure out what you actually are to each other, she’s gonna pick up on that long before you’re ready to have the conversation.” She flicked her gaze between all of you. “Kids are perceptive. The more unsure you are, the more confusing it’s gonna be for her.”

“When the time comes,” Joel said, measured, “I’ll tell her.” He glanced at Tommy, then at you. “Not before. Not unless she starts askin’.”

Tess watched him closely. “And if she does?”

Joel exhaled, rubbing a hand over his jaw. “Then I’ll explain it to her. In a way that makes sense.” His eyes flickered between you and Tommy again. “She don’t need to know more than what’s right for her age.”

You let out a slow breath, nodding. “Alright.”

Tess closed her notebook. “Alright. It’s a start. But you’ve got work to do. This isn’t just about a baby anymore.” She looked directly at Tommy. “It’s about your marriage. About your relationships with each other.” Then her gaze flicked between you and Joel. “And whether or not you two can actually handle boundaries, or if this is just a slow crawl toward something blowing up in your faces.”

You swallowed. Joel’s hands clenched.

Tommy just sighed. “Yeah,” he muttered. “Guess we’ll find out.”

The walk into the parking lot was a quiet one, with the buzzing of unsettled energy between the three of you. Once outside the door, you all seemed to turn to each other, waiting for someone to speak.

“Thank you,” you said finally, your voice soft. “Both of you. For coming to this. I know it was…” You couldn’t finish the sentence.

“Weird,” Joel offered, with a dry edge.

“Necessary,” Tommy muttered, crossing his arms.

You nodded, arms folding across your chest. “So…” you trailed off, unsure what came next. None of you were.

Tommy gave a short sigh and looked off toward the lot. “I’ll go grab the truck.” He didn’t wait for a response—just turned and walked, shoulders tight, hands stuffed in his jacket pockets.

You and Joel stood in the stillness he left behind.

He glanced at you, then away, rocking slightly on his heels. “I don’t know what the hell I’m supposed to say right now.”

You huffed a quiet breath. “Yeah. Me neither.”

He looked like he wanted to say more, like something was caught just behind his teeth—but he didn’t speak.

And you didn’t reach for him, even though you wanted to. Even though your hand twitched like it might. To squeeze his, to graze his wrist, to pull him close and maybe even kiss him goodbye. But it was still too weird. Too soon.

So instead, when Tommy pulled up and the tires crunched on the pavement, you stepped forward and let your fingers brush lightly over Joel’s shoulder. Just for a second. Just enough to say something without having to speak.

The window on Tommy’s side rolled down, elbow braced on the edge. He was watching his brother with a resigned look in his eyes.

Joel met his eyes. They exchanged a short, silent nod. Nothing more.

You climbed into the passenger seat, heart thrumming. Joel stayed standing where you left him, hands in his pockets, watching as the truck pulled away.

And even though nothing had been said… it felt like something had shifted. Just enough to make it through the rest of the day.

For mid-October, the sun sure was baking you in the bleachers. But it was the good kind of heat—cozy, not oppressive. The air smelled like dust and hay and horses. Behind you, the fair buzzed with life—kids screaming on the roller coasters, bells ringing as prizes were won, music from the concert stage floating over the field like static.

The Austin Fall Festival was in full swing.

Tommy sat beside you on the sun-warmed metal bench, one hand deep in a bag of kettle corn, the other resting easy on your knee. Down in the arena below your seats, another bull rider went airborne, thrown like a ragdoll into the dirt. The crowd let out a collective wince.

“Damn,” Tommy said, watching the guy scramble to his feet. “That’s gonna bruise.”

You snorted, grabbing a handful of popcorn. “Bruise? That man’s spine just folded in half.”

Tommy grinned, leaning in. “Bet I could do better.”

You raised a brow. “You can’t even get outta bed without your back crackin’ like fireworks.”

He laughed, mouth full of popcorn, then pressed a quick kiss to your lips—warm and familiar. “True. But I’d still look good tryin’.”

You smiled as you sipped your soda. The air smelled like caramel and something fried—probably the funnel cake stand you passed earlier. You sat close enough to the arena that you could hear the thud of hooves, the pop of the announcer’s mic, the wave of cheers and groans rolling through the stands behind you. It felt electric.

Sarah was up soon. Her first barrel race. She’d been buzzing about it for weeks.

You leaned into Tommy’s side, and he brought his arm up to wrap around your shoulders, giving you an affectionate squeeze.

This was good. A sense of normalcy again.

Then, a familiar face caught your eye making his way up the bleachers. Joel had a bag of cotton candy in one hand and was weaving through the crowd with ease up the stairs. He reached your row and slid in beside you, a small smile already on his face.

“Just left Sarah with her trainer,” he said, a little out of breath. “She’s up in the next few.”

Then he leaned in to greet you, pressing a quick kiss to your cheek meant to be just a casual familial ‘hello’. But still, his stubble scraped your skin just enough to leave a spark, and he smelled like horses and leather and that subtle cologne he always wore. It hit somewhere low in your stomach, but you didn’t let it show.

He greeted Tommy with a nod, and popped a puff of cotton candy into his mouth.

You made a face. “Ugh. How can you eat that stuff?”

Joel grinned around the sugar, his eyes crinkling at the corners. “It’s what makes me so sweet.”

You laughed, shaking your head and taking another sip of your soda. Tommy reached down for more popcorn, his arm brushing against your back as he dropped his hand from your shoulder, and Joel leaned forward to watch the next event being announced.

You sat between them, shoulders brushing, the sun warming your back, the crowd rising around you.

For a moment, it almost felt like things could settle. Like the three of you could fit into this new normal—comfortable, easy, like it was supposed to be this way all along. At least you hoped.

The announcer’s voice crackled through the speakers, calling out Sarah’s name, and your heart gave a little skip.

“There she is,” Joel said, sitting forward with his elbows on his knees.

You leaned, too, eyes scanning the gate. Sure enough, Sarah was there behind the posts on her horse, nerves painted all over her posture even though she tried to play it cool. Even from here, you could just make out the furrow in her brow—the same quiet, determined look she got from her dad.

“She’s gonna kill it,” Tommy said beside you, resting his hand high on your thigh. He gave it a gentle squeeze, leaning into you as he said, “Ain’t no way she don’t win.”

You smiled, but it felt slightly delayed. Joel’s knee pressed against yours as he leaned close on your other side, eyes still locked on the arena.

“Hope she don’t cut that second barrel too close,” he muttered, mostly to himself, his voice low and rough. “She keeps doin’ that in practice. Gets excited and leans too early.”

“She’ll be fine,” you said, but you could hear the tension in your own voice. Joel’s hand had come to rest behind you on the bench, close to your lower back. Tommy’s fingers were still on your leg.

Sarah burst out of the gate, and the crowd roared. The three of you shot to your feet as her horse charged forward, hooves kicking up dust. She moved fast—tight, clean—rounding the first barrel like she’d done it a hundred times.

Joel was grinning ear to ear. “That’s my girl!”

His arm slid around your back, his other hand curled into a loose fist, pressed just beneath his mouth as if to contain the rush of emotion building in him. The hand at your back caught in the fabric of your blouse, fingers curling there, like he was tethering himself. Like he was bracing.

You tried to focus on Sarah, but all you could feel was the heat of his fingers, the way he clung to you, like your body was hyper aware of him.

You smiled, cheering, barely breathing, eyes fixed on her horse thundering toward the second turn. She hugged the barrel tight—too tight. A little wobble, a gasp from the crowd, but she corrected at the last second.

“She’s got it,” Tommy said beside you. His hand came to rest against the small of your back—right below where Joel’s hand was already bunched in your shirt. The two touches nearly met.

Neither of them moved.

Sarah charged toward the third barrel. Clean. Her final sprint down the home stretch brought the stands to their feet.

The three of you clapped, cheered, whooped, your heart racing, the electricity between the two men fizzing silently beside you. Tommy’s hand splayed wide across your backside. Joel barely moved, watching the timer screen flash across the display.

“That’s a good run,” he said, low and proud. His fingers loosened from your shirt, but he didn’t move his hand away.

“She’s gonna place,” Tommy agreed.

“She might win it,” you added, turning your head to look at them.

Both of them were already looking at you.

You smiled, flushed from the excitement—but something in the way they each looked at you made your skin feel hot for an entirely different reason.

Neither of them said anything, and for a second, the moment just… hung there. Their hands on you. The roar of the crowd fading into something muted.

Then the announcer called the next name, and the energy around you snapped back into motion.

Joel pulled his arm back to grab the cotton candy. Tommy slid his hand away like nothing had happened.

But your body remembered. And so did theirs.

After catching up with Sarah after her event, she was still buzzing with adrenaline. Practically bouncing.

“Did you see how fast he took that last curve?!” she gasped, practically skipping between you and Joel. “I was freaking out when the second barrel started to tip—did you see that?! Were you guys watching?!”

Joel was all pride and smiles as he walked beside her, teasing and nodding along, soaking in every word. She rambled on about her trainer’s horses, how they’d competed at Rodeo Austin for real, how she couldn’t wait to do it again. Eventually, she managed to talk the three of you into a round at the BB gun booth.

All four of you took a stance—Sarah coached dramatically, and you, predictably, failed miserably your first try. Joel and Tommy moved to the next round, and you watched from the side with Sarah, both of you hollering in support.

“Hit it! Hit it!” Sarah screeched at her dad. You let out a whoop as Tommy nailed the bullseye again and again.

When the game runner handed him a giant teddy bear, Tommy swung it into your arms with a triumphant grin before kissing you full on the mouth, unbothered by the crowd.

You laughed against his lips, hugging the bear tight, bouncing a little despite yourself.

“Uncle Tommy!” Sarah groaned, tugging at his arm until he pulled back from the kiss, grinning at her wide-eyed look. “Win me one too! Please?”

Tommy’s eyes sparkled as he looked at Joel, clearly amused that he was the one winning today. Joel rolled his eyes, but you caught the tightness in his jaw, the way his gaze lingered just a second too long as he glanced at your oversized teddy hitched on your hip.

“Go on, then,” Joel said, nodding toward the booth. “I’m gonna grab another beer.”

“I’ll join you,” you added quickly, glancing toward Tommy. But Sarah was already dragging him away, his hands back on the BB gun, ready for round two.

You and Joel peeled off quietly, heading toward the food and drink stands.

“Sarah was beggin’ for a funnel cake earlier,” Joel said, hands in his pockets. “Okay if we stop by one of the stands?”

“Yeah, ’course,” you murmured, falling into step beside him.

The walk was quiet—not awkward, exactly, but the air between you had thickened. Every step felt like it carried the weight of something unsaid.

You hadn’t talked much since the therapy session. Not really. Not about anything that mattered. The three of you had agreed to give it space—to breathe, to not immediately push into definitions or rules or boundaries.

But space didn’t feel like clarity. It felt like walking on eggshells. Like waiting for someone else to speak first, only no one ever did.

You weren’t sure what this was supposed to look like now. The idea of exploring an open relationship had been thrown out into the room like a life raft, but no one had said if they were actually ready to grab onto it. Not Joel. Not Tommy. Not even you.

You made it all the way to the counter before either of you spoke again.

“Make that two funnel cakes, please,” you said, just as Joel ordered Sarah’s.

He raised an eyebrow.

“What?” you laughed, lifting a shoulder. “Can’t help the cravings.” You reached for your wallet. “I’ll get Sarah’s too.”

Joel stopped you, his hand catching your wrist as you moved to your back pocket.

“Don’t be ridiculous,” he muttered, already pulling out cash.

Then, quieter—low enough that the vendor wouldn’t hear, but just loud enough for you—he added, “Guess that sweet tooth runs in the genes.”

Your heart stumbled a beat. He didn’t look at you. Didn’t smirk, didn’t wink, but you could swear there was a twinkle in his eye when he turned back to you as you both stepped aside to wait for your order.

And just like that, the silence settled back in—only now it wasn’t neutral. It was charged.

When the funnel cakes came, you didn’t hesitate—tearing off a bite, still warm and soft, powdered sugar sticking to your lips.

You sighed in delight. “Oh my God.”

Joel was watching you when you looked up. That slight smirk on his face.

“What?” you asked, mouth full.

“You got a little somethin’,” he said, gesturing vaguely near his own mouth.

You licked your lips automatically, tongue sweeping the corner.

“Nope,” he murmured, chuckling. “Still there.”

Before you could try again, his hand reached out. Fingers warm and rough as they curled under your chin. His thumb dragged gently across your upper lip, brushing away the sugar with a slow swipe.

You froze—your breath caught somewhere in your throat as your eyes searched his face. The lights from the festival sparkled in his eyes, and behind him the sky had deepened into a wash of orange and violet.

Then his gaze dropped to your mouth, and he moved.

His lips brushed yours—soft, hesitant—like he wasn’t sure if this counted as crossing a line, or if the line had disappeared altogether. But he didn’t pull back right away. Instead, he paused there, the warmth of his breath ghosting against your mouth, and for a second neither of you moved.

You stood still in that sliver of space where touch becomes choice, where you could pretend it hadn’t happened yet. But then his mouth pressed into yours fully, slowly, like he was tasting something he already knew. It wasn’t hungry. It wasn’t rushed. It was deliberate, drawn out and gentle.

His hand stayed at your chin, his thumb pinching just barely as if to steady you, and your lips parted instinctively beneath his. You felt the sigh in his chest more than you heard it, like something deep inside him had let go the second your mouths met.

Your hands stayed at your sides, fist clenched around the paper tray still holding your funnel cake, the other hugging the teddy bear to your side, your heart pounding so hard you could feel it in your throat. It wasn’t a kiss born from adrenaline or jealousy—it wasn’t the kind of kiss that begged for permission. It simply was.

When he pulled back, it wasn’t abrupt. It was slow, like he didn’t really want to stop, but knew he had to. His lips hovered a moment longer—just close enough that you could still feel the heat of him—and then he stepped back half a breath. You didn’t dare move. Couldn’t. You stood there staring at him, your lungs burning like you’d been holding your breath the entire time. Joel’s eyes dropped to your mouth again, and then, with a subtle flick of his tongue, he licked the last trace of powdered sugar from his bottom lip. The gesture was unthinking, automatic, but the sheer sight of it landed somewhere low and electric in your stomach, like a match being struck.

And then the world came rushing back in.

The noise of the fairgrounds—the buzz of voices, the bark of game operators, the soft whir of rides—returned all at once, like someone had turned the volume back up. You swallowed hard and looked away, trying to force air into your lungs, trying to stop the trembling in your fingers. Joel didn’t say anything. He just nodded once, almost to himself, and turned to start walking back toward the game booth. You followed beside him, the heat still high in your cheeks, your steps too careful, like if you moved too fast you might lose your balance.

You glanced up at him once, just to see if he was as composed as he acted, but the faint pink flush at the tips of his ears gave him away.

“Dad!”

Sarah’s voice snapped your head up. She was running toward you, a giant stuffed horse clutched in her arms, nearly half her size. She was beaming. “Can I go find Claire and Maddie again? They’re headed to the ferris wheel!”

Joel handed her the funnel cake without hesitation, “Yeah, go on, just stay where we can see you.”

“Thanks!” she chirped, already spinning away with her prize in tow, the funnel cake tipping dangerously as she ran off.

But your eyes weren’t on her.

They were on Tommy, just catching up to you—beer in one hand, the other stuffed in his front pocket, a smile on his face as he watched her go. When his eyes found yours, they flicked to Joel beside you, and something in his expression changed. Not angry, not suspicious… but aware. Like he was conscious of some shift between the two of you.

You tried to will the pink from your cheeks, steady the pulse in your throat as you stepped toward him and offered your funnel cake like nothing had happened.

“That kid had me goin’ three more rounds to get her that prize,” Tommy chuckled, clearly trying to break whatever tension had settled back between the three of you as he tore off a piece and popped it in his mouth.

Joel let out a quiet laugh, eyes following in the direction Sarah had run off. “Better go catch up with her before I lose ’er.”

Tommy nodded, then glanced at you. “Think we’ll call it a night after this. She’ll be wired for another hour and then crash hard.”

You smiled, grateful for the exit.

As Joel nodded and began to step away, Tommy called after him casually, “Hey—when you drop her off, mind swingin’ by the house? Think I left that box of tools in your truck bed last week.”

Joel glanced over his shoulder. “Yeah. Sure.” his eyes landed on you for the briefest moment, “See ya in a bit then,”

Tommy gave him a two-finger wave, then turned his attention back to you, the last bite of funnel cake pinched between his fingers, wrapping his arm around your shoulders as the two of you walked out of the fair.

The drive home wasn’t long, but it felt like it stretched forever.

Tommy’s hand had been on your thigh from the moment he slid into the driver’s seat—steady at first, but now, it was creeping higher with every turn he made. His fingers flexed just at the top of your leg, the pad of his thumb brushing over your jeans in slow, distracting strokes.

“Tommy,” you said, a quiet breath more than a word.

“Yeah?” His voice was low, too casual for the way his fingers were moving now.

“You’re bein’ handsy.”

He glanced at you out of the corner of his eye, smirking. “Yeah, well. You’re lettin’ me.”

This wasn’t like him.

Yes, Tommy was affectionate—always had been. Touching your lower back as you passed through a crowd, brushing his lips over your shoulder while you stood at the sink, nudging your knee under the table just to remind you he was there.

But his gestures had never been… naughty.

Never anything that lit a fuse under your skin like the way his hand was gripping your thigh now. Never anything that made your breath stutter in your chest just from the press of his fingers curling possessively around your skin.

He was usually more careful with you. Gentle.

Tommy was the kind of man who waited until you were both tucked under the covers, warm and safe, soft and sleepy, before climbing over you with a smile and a kiss to your neck. The kind of man who made you smile first, made sure the world had quieted before he pulled you under.

You turned your head, looking at him from the passenger seat. He was focused on the road, jaw tight, eyes hard on the curve of the pavement as he turned into the neighborhood. But there was a spark there, flashing hot and alive beneath his usual easy exterior.

Your gaze slid down as he shifted in his seat, and your eyes caught on the undeniable shape in his jeans.

Heat bloomed in your face. Your chest. Lower.

The tight bulge in his lap pulsed like a secret between you, and it made your thighs press together involuntarily. But it wasn’t just the fact that he was aroused—it was that he wasn’t hiding it. That he was feeling you up in the front seat of the truck, on your quiet neighborhood street, away from the safety of the four walls of your bedroom.

Tommy, who usually waited until the house was dark and the doors were locked. Who kissed you slowly, slid his hands under your shirt and whispered “you okay?” even after years of being together.

He just slid his hand between your legs and gripped your inner thigh like he’d been thinking about it all night.

It sent heat rolling through you, sharp and dizzying. Not just from the touch, but from the awareness of how out of place it was. How unlike him it was to let go like this, to need like this, especially outside the safety of home.

And God help you—you liked it.

You pressed your legs together, your breath catching in your throat, trying to remember how to sit still while every nerve in your body screamed at you to climb into his lap and ride him right there in the middle of the road.

He felt your squirming as he pulled into the driveway, the tires crunching softly over gravel. The second the truck shifted into park and the headlights clicked off, the cab was swallowed in quiet shadow, only the streetlamp catching the edge of his jaw.

He turned toward you, that smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth—the kind that made your stomach flip. His hand slid from your thigh to the top of your seat, arm stretched across the backrest, his gaze drinking you in from the other side of the bench.

“C’mere,” he said, low and smooth, nodding for you to slide over.

You bit your lip, heart thudding, and obeyed without a word—scooting across the cracked leather until your thigh brushed his.

His hand dropped from the headrest to cradle the back of your neck, warm and firm. The other left the steering wheel, finding your cheek, fingers spreading across your jaw like he needed to anchor you in place.

And then he kissed you.

Not the sweet, half-thought kisses he’d given you throughout the day. Not careful, not playful. This was deep. Needy. Starving. Like he’d been holding it back for too long and didn’t care anymore if it showed.

His mouth slanted over yours again and again, open and hot, tongue sweeping past your lips like it belonged there. The soft sounds he made—those low, growling hums that rumbled in his throat—sent heat surging through your core.

Your breath stuttered as his grip on your neck tightened, his other hand trailing slowly down from your face to trace along your body until it was back at your denim clad thighs. He gripped hard, his palm sliding up along the seam of your jeans, squeezing just enough to make you shift in your seat.

When he tugged gently at the base of your hair, just at the nape, a moan slipped from your throat before you could catch it.

You broke the kiss just long enough to gasp, “Who are you and what have you done with my husband?”

He huffed a breath against your skin, already moving to your neck, kissing a line down the column of your throat. His mouth was open, his tongue slow, dragging heat behind every press of his lips, and then—teeth. A soft bite that made your body jolt.

“Wanted to get my hands on you all day,” he muttered between kisses, voice muffled against your skin. “Lookin’ so pretty,”

You whimpered, nails curling into the fabric of his shirt as he worked lower, pushing your neckline aside with one hand just to mouth at the new skin he found there.

You were panting now, flushed all over, your thighs pressing together as he kissed, bit, sucked like he was trying to brand you.

“Tommy,” you breathed, completely undone, and when he looked back up at you—lips swollen, eyes dark—you barely recognized the hunger in his face.

“Get your ass inside,” he rasped. “Now.”

You climbed out the passenger door, giddy like a teenager all over again, your skin still tingling from his hands and mouth and voice. As you made your way up the walk, Tommy’s hand came down in a playful smack against your rear, making you squeal and laugh over your shoulder at him.

He didn’t smile—not fully. His eyes were too dark, too focused. But the edge of his mouth twitched like he was barely holding himself together.

By the time you reached the door, his chest was already at your back, his arms snaking around you, mouth grazing your ear. “You drive me crazy, baby… you know that?” he murmured, voice low and breath hot.

You fumbled the keys, giggling as he pressed closer. “You’re the one who couldn’t keep your hands to himself.”

“And you didn’t stop me,” he whispered, nuzzling your jaw. “Didn’t want to, did you?”

You didn’t answer. You didn’t need to.

The door clicked open and the second you were inside, his hands were on you again—spinning you around, backing you up against the wall just inside the entry. His mouth crashed into yours, deeper this time, slower but no less desperate. His hands slid up your sides, over your waist, thumbs hooking into your belt loops to keep you flush against him.

He kissed you like he hadn’t touched you in weeks. Like he’d been starving for you.

By the time you pulled apart for air, you were both breathless and a little dizzy.

“Upstairs,” he murmured, voice ragged, his hands slipping down to grab yours, guiding you behind him.

At the top, he didn’t even pause—just pulled you straight into the bedroom and kicked the door shut behind you with one solid thud. And then his hands were back on your hips, his mouth on your throat, and whatever this was—it wasn’t slowing down anytime soon.

Your back hit the bedroom wall with a soft thump, and Tommy barely gave you time to catch your breath before his mouth was on you again, pressing into the curve of your neck, open and hot, his hands splayed across your hips like he couldn’t keep his hands still.

You gasped as he nipped at the base of your throat, your hands tangling in his shirt, gripping the fabric tight. He groaned softly against your skin, one hand sliding up under your top, rough fingers skimming over your ribs like he needed to feel all of you.

“Tommy—” you breathed, but it came out more like a sigh.

He pulled back just far enough to look at you, his chest rising and falling hard, eyes dark and locked onto yours. “Tell me if you want me to stop.”

You shook your head before the words even formed. “Don’t.”

That was all he needed.

He tugged your shirt up, slow but sure, breaking contact just long enough to pull it over your head and toss it to the floor. His eyes dropped, sweeping over your bare skin like it physically pained him to look away. One of his hands slid behind you and unclasped your bra in a smooth motion, and let it slide from your shoulders. His hands were reverent, warm and wide as they came up to cup you, thumbs brushing over your nipples, and the groan that left him was raw, almost pained.

“You’re so damn beautiful,” he said, like a thought spoken out loud.

You reached for the hem of his shirt, dragging it up over his stomach and chest. He helped you the rest of the way, yanking it over his head and tossing it behind him. His mouth was back on you before you could get a good look, lips trailing heat down your collarbone, your sternum, the swell of your breast. He kissed your flesh until you were arching into him, fingers tangling in his hair.

His hands moved to the button of your jeans next, and you gasped when he popped it open and dragged the zipper down, his knuckles grazing the skin just below your belly. You toed off your shoes, the soft thud of them hitting the carpet barely registering over the pounding in your ears. His hands slid to your waist, and he dropped to his knees, pulling your jeans down inch by inch, kissing the skin he uncovered like it was a map he already knew by heart.

By the time he got your jeans off, his mouth never left your skin, kissing along your hip bone, his breath hot and shaky. His hands slid up your thighs, slow and worshipful—until they weren’t. Until they were gripping.

His fingers dug into your flesh, pulling you closer as he moved up to kiss your stomach, chest, throat—claiming every inch like it was his and his alone. You were breathless by the time he kissed you again, and when he pushed you back onto the bed, you went willingly, your back sinking into the sheets, arms stretching above your head.

He hovered over you, eyes tracing every inch of your face. And then something flickered there. Something sharp.

“You let him touch you like this?” he asked, voice low but tight, as his hand moved between your legs, cupping you over your panties. The lace was already damp beneath his fingers, your arousal bleeding through the fabric. He dragged a finger along the center, slow and deliberate, and you felt the heat bloom deeper as the pressure built.

Your breath caught. “Tommy—”

“Just tell me,” he murmured, kissing your jaw, then your throat. “Did he touch you like this?” He pressed the heel of his palm in, slow but firm, dragging a moan from your lips even as your brows pulled together.

“Stop,” you breathed, trying to push up on your elbows. “It doesn’t matter.”

But he shook his head, his hand sliding your underwear down your thighs, slow and rough all at once. “It does to me.”

He kissed you again—deeper this time, almost bruising until his hands guided you to roll over, his touch less gentle now, more insistent. He pulled your hips up until you were on your knees, chest pressed into the bed, your face turned toward the pillows. You barely had time to catch your breath before you felt him—hot and hard, the blunt weight of his cock pressing against you.

You arched back into it instinctively, needing him to forget everything else, to just feel this—feel you.

“You’re mine,” he breathed, pushing into you with one steady thrust that made you gasp, your fingers curling into the comforter. “Always been mine.”

You moaned, eyes shutting tightly as he moved inside you—rougher now, his rhythm firm, controlled, but not cruel. Just desperate. Like he had something to prove.

Every sound that left him was strained, thick with emotion—his hands spreading across your hips, his thumb trailing up your spine like he needed to feel every piece of you to believe this was real.

The sound of your moans and Tommy’s grunts filled the air, the sheets rubbing against your skin beneath you, it was almost loud enough to drown out the front door opening.

But then you heard his voice.

“Tommy?”

Your eyes flew open, breath catching in your throat. That was Joel’s voice coming from downstairs. Your mind scrambled to remember why the hell he was here. And then you remembered Tommy’s request. Some stupid tool box he needed.

Tommy stilled for half a second—just long enough for your heart to lurch—before he started moving again, slower this time, deeper. Like he was doubling down.

You grunted, biting your lip to swallow the moan that threatened to give you away. Your hand scrambled for the edge of the sheets, something to grip, something to hold you to earth.

Your blood ran hot and cold all at once.

Joel’s voice came again—closer. “You home?”

“We’re up here,” Tommy called back, voice completely steady.

No.

Your entire body tensed under him, your head whipping to the side, eyes locked on the closed bedroom door.

“What the fuck are you doing?” you hissed, panicked, but he only dropped more of his weight onto you, one hand pressing flat between your shoulder blades, the other tightening around your hip. You were locked in place beneath him, your breath coming fast.

“Shh, shh, shh,” Tommy cooed, his voice sweet but mocking as his hips kept moving, slow and steady and deep. “Ain’t gonna stop now.”

There was a creak on the stairs.

Your heart slammed into your throat.

“Tommy,” you hissed again, but it came out half-broken, your voice catching in your chest.

And then—

The door swung open.

“Jesus—” Joel flinched hard, turning away with a grunt and lifting a hand to cover his eyes. “What the hell, man!?”

Tommy didn’t stop.

His grip on you tightened, his thrusts slowing just a hair—but only to lean down, breath hot against your ear as he rasped, “That what you wanted, huh? Him seein’ you like this?”

You whimpered, caught between mortification and a heat that made your knees weak.

“Tommy—please—” you gasped, struggling half-heartedly beneath him.

But he was gone.

“Think you can just fuck my wife whenever you want?” Tommy growled, looking over at Joel now, chest heaving, voice thick with rage and something else—something darker. “Think you do it better?”

Joel turned slightly, eyes caught somewhere between fury and disbelief. “You’ve lost your goddamn mind—”

“Have I?” Tommy snapped, his voice low and dangerous as he fucked into you harder now, like he was trying to prove something with every movement. “’Cause she’s drippin’ all over my cock right now. You seein’ this?”

You let out a broken sound, face buried in the mattress. You wanted to crawl out of your skin—and yet the way Tommy was holding you, the filthy things coming out of his mouth, the heat between the three of you…

It was too much.

Joel’s mouth opened like he was about to say something else—but he didn’t.

He stared.

He stayed.

And your heart nearly exploded as Tommy chuckled low in his throat, thrusting deep and slow again like he wanted Joel to see it.

“That’s right,” Tommy said, never looking away. “Go on. Watch. See what it looks like when a man takes care of what’s his.”

“Call this takin’ care?” Joel said, voice low, sharp with something mean and taunting beneath the surface.

Your eyes flicked up, wide, and found his—and the heat there made your breath catch.

“Tell me, little brother,” Joel drawled, “you ever felt her come all over that dick of yours?”

Tommy’s movements faltered. Just for a second.

You felt it—his grip loosening slightly on your hips, his breath catching.

Your heart was in your throat, beating so hard it hurt.

Joel stepped forward, slow, measured. His eyes dragged over your body—not like it was new to him, but like he knew every inch of it already. Like he could trace it blind, by memory alone.

“Didn’t think so,” he murmured.

Then his gaze locked with yours.

“Should we show him, sweetheart?” he asked, and your stomach dropped clean through the mattress. “Show him what he’s been missin’?”

Your mouth parted, no sound coming out.

Joel tilted his head, eyes twinkling with mischief. “Think my pissy little brother needs some pointers?”

Tommy let out a rough breath behind you, a mix between a growl and a scoff, his hand sliding up your spine possessively.

“She’s my goddamn wife,” he snapped, but his voice wasn’t steady anymore.

Joel’s gaze flickered up, darkening, “Then fuckin’ act like it.”

The silence was deafening—so thick you could hear your own pulse in your ears.

Tommy’s hands flexed on your hips again. And then he thrust—hard. Deep. A sound ripped out of you that wasn’t quiet at all.

And Joel’s expression changed. Softer. Almost smug. Almost… proud.

“She sure makes the prettiest sounds, don’t she?” he said, and he approached the bed. Your skin felt like it was on fire as Tommy stilled completely, but he was still hard inside you to your surprise.

“Turn her over,” Joel said steadily.

Tommy’s head snapped toward him. “Get the hell out.”

“You invited me in here, little brother.” Joel’s tone was exasperatingly calm.

You couldn’t believe what you were seeing. Both men. In the room with you while you were naked and taking your husband’s cock.

Your heart pounded against your ribs, wild and uneven, like it was trying to warn you. Or maybe it was just overwhelmed.

You didn’t know where to look. Joel, standing there with that infuriating calm like this was just another Tuesday. Tommy, still inside you, bristling with fury, sweat sticking his hair to his forehead as he tried to process what was happening.

And you—trapped in the middle, hips pinned beneath the man you married, body still burning for the one you hadn’t stopped thinking about since that first night.

You should’ve felt humiliated. You did. But your skin still tingled everywhere Joel’s eyes touched.

Tommy was quick to snap at his brother, “And now I want you out.”

Joel didn’t flinch. “And what do you want, sweetheart?” he asked, gaze cutting to you, his head tilted slightly as his eyes took in the flushed features of your face.

You exhaled slowly, your lungs feeling like they’d deflated. Your mouth was dry, but you licked your lips anyway, then turned your face to look back at Tommy, biting down gently on the inside of your cheek.

Tommy’s face twisted in disbelief. “You’re kidding.”

“Just…” you breathed, heart pounding in your throat, “let’s just see. It could be fun.” You swallowed. “We haven’t made any rules yet.”

Tommy looked between the two of you—his jaw tight, his eyes wide, stunned. “Jesus Christ,” he muttered, dragging a hand down his face before he finally pulled out of you, breath ragged. “Alright. Turn over.”

You moved quickly, your skin flushed and glowing, body still trembling as you flipped onto your back. The sheets were warm under you, your thighs still slick, still open.

Behind you, you heard the unmistakable rustle of clothes—the metal clink of a belt, the soft drag of a zipper—and then Joel was there.

The heat of him hit you first. He was so warm, and as he stepped to the side of the bed, the mattress dipped slightly with his weight.

“This is so fuckin’ weird,” Tommy muttered, shaking his head as he moved to kneel between your legs again.

You sat up a little, cupping his face, dragging your hand down the center of his chest, his stomach. “I love you,” you whispered, searching his eyes. “If you don’t want this, we stop. Say the word.”

Tommy stared down at you for a long second. His lips pressed together, pulled inward like he was thinking too hard. His eyes flicked to Joel, then back to you.

He sighed, jaw clenching. “Just this once. And if it doesn’t work—”

“Never again,” you finished softly, nodding.

Only then did you glance up at Joel.

He nodded once, slow and assured, his hand already moving to the bulge in his briefs. Your eyes followed—broad chest, tan skin, strong forearms—and you couldn’t help yourself. You leaned back, just slightly, hand drifting up to cup him through the fabric. Joel exhaled, low and rough, eyes fluttering shut as your palm rubbed against him.

“Show him,” you said softly.

His eyes opened again, sharper now, a slow smirk curling at the corner of his mouth.

“Not sure he deserves it after all that attitude,” Joel muttered, voice teasing but laced with heat.

“Joel—” you warned.

“Yeah, yeah,” he said, rolling his eyes—but his voice was dark now, thicker. “But then it’s my turn.”

You watched him hook his thumbs in the waistband of his briefs, pushing them down with one slow motion that revealed all of him—hard, heavy, already flushed. Your breath caught at the sight, heat flooding through you like a second pulse.

He fisted himself gently, watching you, waiting.

Above you, Tommy shifted. You turned to look at him and his mouth was drawn tight, eyes hard with conflict. But he didn’t pull away. Instead, he moved closer, settling between your legs again, hands sliding up your thighs.

You stared up at him, unsure if he’d really go through with it. But then he lined himself up, his cock dragging through your folds, and you gasped at the contact.

He sighed low, almost like relief, as he sank into you with one long, slow push. The weight of him settling into your hips, the feeling of him filling you again—it made your head fall back, your mouth falling open.

The tension in the room turned molten.

Tommy’s hands slid to your thighs, gripping tight like he needed something to hold on to. His eyes flicked up to Joel, who was still settled at your side, close enough now that you could feel his presence, warm and electric.

You barely registered Joel moving until you felt his hand close around your wrist. Firm. Certain. He guided your hand to his cock—thick and hot and heavy—and curled your fingers around him like he was placing something sacred into your palm.

Your breath hitched, but you didn’t hesitate.

You wrapped your lips around the head, soft and swollen and already leaking, and sucked—slow, reverent, like you’d been dreaming of this since the last time. And you had been.

Joel hissed through his teeth, his hand threading through your hair as you hollowed your cheeks and pulled him deeper. “Good girl,” he muttered. Your entire body clenched at the praise.

Tommy groaned above you, building up his thrusts, erratic and messy as you pulsed around him.

“Slow down,” Joel said, calm, instructive. “Long, even strokes. Deep.”

Tommy cursed under his breath but obeyed, grinding into you with a slower, heavier rhythm that made your whole body arch forward, your mouth taking Joel deeper.

“Good,” Joel murmured. “Now thumb her clit.”

You whimpered around his cock, the sound thick and broken. Tommy’s thumb slid over your swollen clit in soft, careful circles, and your whole body clenched around him.

“She’s grippin’ the hell outta me,” Tommy breathed. “Fuck.”

Joel’s voice was right above you now, rough but steady. “Spit on it.”

“What?”

“You heard me. Spit on her clit. She likes it messier.”

You moaned, mouth full of Joel, your thighs twitching.

Tommy grunted again, but when you felt the warm wet hit of spit on your skin, you moaned loudly, hips bucking. His thumb slid through the slickness building there, the glide smoother, filthier, perfect.

“That’s it,” Joel growled. “Keep her right there. Thumb her just like that. Don’t stop. Her throat is squeezin’ me so good when you do that.”

You couldn’t breathe. Your body was clenching up, something coiling in your spine and hips as he kept up the pace. Joel’s cock dragged across your tongue, thick and pulsing, while Tommy thrust into you—slower now, more precise, but still not quite enough.

You loved Tommy’s rhythm—the care in it, the way he was doing everything to get you there, the way he wanted to get you there. But your orgasm wasn’t building the same way. It was harder to catch, harder to ride. Joel’s cock had a weight, a stretch that reached something deeper in you—something that made your body respond instantly. With Tommy, it took more. He was only slightly smaller, narrower, not lacking, just… different.

Still good. Still yours. But different.

“She’s close,” Joel said, voice ragged now, eyes locked on your face. “I can feel it.”

Tommy groaned, cock twitching inside you as you clenched down hard. “Jesus, she’s—fuck, she’s so tight.”

“You wanna come for Tommy, sweet girl?” Joel asked, still beside you on bed, one hand fisted in your hair where it spilled across the bedspread, thumb brushing softly over your cheek.

Your eyes fluttered open to meet his—and in the same breath, Joel guided his cock back between your lips, sliding into your mouth with a slow, deliberate push that made your throat stretch and burn in the best way.

You gagged softly, the movement rippling through your body. Tommy moaned at the sudden convulsion of your walls around him, his one hand gripping your hip so hard it would leave bruises. The other kept circling your clit with his thumb, your eyes warring between rolling back and trying to focus on Joel.

“Fuck—she just—goddamn,” Tommy breathed, his hips faltering for half a second before finding that rhythm again. Deep, slow strokes that had your whole body arching beneath him.

Joel pulled back with a wet pop, a string of spit and precum connecting your lips to the flushed tip of his cock. You were gasping for breath, whimpering and moaning as he leaned down close, hovering just over your face, thumb wiping at your mouth like it was his.

You were hovering now, your spine tingling with the build up. So close. But not there yet. Your body wanted more.

And Joel knew.

Of course he knew.

“Tommy’s got you so full, huh?” Joel murmured, voice like gravel soaked in honey in your ear, low enough that only you could hear. “Still not enough to make you come, greedy girl?”

His breath brushed the shell of your ear, and your whole body twitched.

You couldn’t answer—not with words. But your eyes found his, wide and pleading, glassy with need. You looked up at him from where your head rested on the sheets, Joel crouched beside you now, shadowing over your face like he could read everything you couldn’t say aloud.

And he could. He always could.

Your chest rose with a broken breath as your mouth parted—no sound, just air. One of his hands stayed tangled in your hair, grounding you. The other drifted down, palm dragging with reverence over your chest, and when it reached your breast, his touch went still.

He watched you as if testing the waters. The second your back arched into his palm, just a little, the faintest tremble of pleading… he smirked.

“There she is,” he murmured, his thumb brushing your nipple slowly and deliberately before twisting and palming, kneading your flesh. Your thighs jerked and your eyes fluttered closed, breath stalling in your throat.

Joel leaned in, voice like silk soaked in heat.

“Gonna have to beg him for it,” he murmured, this time loud enough for his brother to hear, dragging his thumb over you again as your back arched once more. “Go on. Show him how sweet you sound when you’re right at the edge.”

He kissed your temple, lips warm and just barely there before sitting up again.

“Show him what you gave me.”

Your breath was a broken thing, chest heaving, your legs locked around Tommy’s waist as his cock filled you over and over again, his thumb grinding against your clit with every thrust. You could barely speak—but you tried.

“Please,” you whispered, blinking up at Tommy. “Please don’t stop.”

His eyes were wide, blown out, sweat dripping from his brow, “Fuck,” he muttered. “Say it again.”

“Please, Tommy,” you gasped, fingers gripping his arms. “Please let me come—need it—need it so bad.”

Joel’s hand moved from your hair to stroke slowly over his cock at the edge of the bed, gaze flicking between your face and Tommy’s. “There it is,” he murmured. “You hear that? That’s yours, little brother. Make her fuckin’ come on your cock.”

Tommy’s rhythm picked up, driving into you with slow, hard strokes that hit deep, his thumb never stopping the delicious circles over your clit just like Joel had told him.

Your head fell back. Your thighs shook. Your whole body started to come apart.

As your jaw fell open, Joel took your mouth again—his cock thick and slick as it pressed past your lips, filling your mouth with one steady thrust. You welcomed it greedily, your moan muffled and broken, your tongue flattening beneath the weight of him.

Your back arched off the bed, body seizing with pleasure as your orgasm hit like a tidal wave—white-hot, all-consuming. Joel’s hand was back in your hair, holding you down, guiding your mouth as your throat fluttered around him, his cock pressing deeper with every pulse. The other squeezed and twisted your breast as you rode your high.

Tommy groaned loudly above you, his voice rough, desperate, like he’d just been torn open.

“Holy fucking shit,” he gasped, and his hips jerked once, twice—then stilled.

You felt it. The heat of him spilling into you, thick and heavy, your cunt already so wet and wrecked it only made you twitch harder around him. His breath stuttered out in harsh bursts, body shuddering as he emptied himself deep inside you.

“That’s it,” Joel growled. “That’s a good girl, baby.”

He fucked your mouth with slow, controlled strokes—gentle now, reverent—before finally pulling out, letting you fall back against the bed with a gasp, your chest heaving as your climax still rippled through your body.

Your vision blurred at the edges, nerves lit up like static. You barely felt Tommy at first—his hands adjusting on your hips, his breathing shaky.

Then, after a long, weighted pause, Tommy slowly eased back, slipping out of you with a wet drag that made your entire body jolt. You gasped softly at the loss, walls still fluttering from your orgasm, sensitive and aching.

The room went quiet again, thick and buzzing under the surface. You could hear Tommy’s breathing above you, could feel the shift in his body as he sat back on his heels, one hand sliding down your thigh as if to steady himself. He moved slowly to sit against the headboard, breathing heavily.

Your pulse thrummed at your neck, loud in your ears. You turned your head toward him, your skin flushed, lips swollen, heart racing. Tommy’s eyes found yours—dark, uncertain, something different behind them. Not anger or sadness, but something new and raw.

“Tommy,” you whispered, voice low, hoarse. You swallowed. “Can he…?”

You hesitated, heat prickling across your cheeks. You weren’t even sure what words you were looking for. You just knew what you needed.

“Can Joel… please?”

Tommy’s eyes scanned your face, then dropped to where your thighs were still parted, to the slick between them, to the tremble in your breath. He took a slow inhale, like he was weighing the cost of the question. Then he nodded. “Go on then. Show me what’s worth all this trouble.” You could swear there was a twitch at the corner of his mouth, a faint crinkle at the edge of his eyes. Not quite a smile. Maybe a dare.

Joel was already moving.

His hands found your body—confident, warm, rough as ever—as he pulled you up onto your knees and flushed your back against his chest. His arms wrapped around you easily, like they belonged there. Like he knew this body like the back of his hand.

You inhaled sharply at the feel of him behind you—solid muscle, the heavy press of his cock nudging against your lower back. He leaned in, mouth brushing your ear. His voice was low, rich, and dripping with something that made your skin tighten.

“Hope you’re payin’ attention, little brother,” Joel murmured, his grip tightening on your waist. “Gonna show you just how sweet she sounds when she gets what she needs.”

You watched Tommy’s jaw clench, and you muttered a short warning to Joel, “Stop,”

Joel ignored you and his hand slipped down between your legs, fingers gliding through the mess Tommy left behind, gathering it in his fingers and spreading it through your puffy center, making your thighs shake.

“Jesus,” he muttered, almost to himself. “Still so wet.”

He let his fingers trail back up to your hip, palm splaying across your stomach as he held you there—against him, for him, like he was staking his claim right in front of Tommy.

Then he shifted. You felt the blunt head of his cock press against your entrance, thick and already slick from your mouth. Your breath caught.

“Hold on to me,” Joel murmured. His other hand slid up, cupping one of your breasts, his mouth brushing just behind your ear as your arms held tightly to his splayed over your torso.

And then he pushed in—slow, deep, deliberate.

Your body seized the moment he started to push in. The stretch was immediate—thicker, deeper, unforgiving. Your legs trembled, a broken moan slipping from your throat before you could stop it. It felt like your body forgot how to breathe, how to think—every nerve lit up as he filled you, inch by inch, until you couldn’t tell where you ended and he began.

Pressure bloomed deep in your core, sharp and aching, and still he kept going, his cock dragging against every hypersensitive spot until your thighs were shaking, your nails biting into his arm.

You gasped—"Joel!" sharp and high—and your head fell back against his shoulder like you couldn’t hold it up anymore. Your mouth parted, but no words came out. Just sound. Just a helpless, wrecked whimper that made Joel groan behind you.

Joel gritted his teeth, voice strained through a groan. “Fuck. Always so tight for me, baby. Takin’ me so good. Feels like he barely even touched you."

“Fuck off,” Tommy snapped from somewhere below you, voice rough, and you didn’t need to look to know he was watching—his breath hitched, uneven.

Joel noticed, too.

“My little brother’s gettin’ all worked up again,” he rasped, his cock sliding deeper, arms tightening around you. “Look at him, baby. Watchin’ you take my cock like this.”

You lifted your head just enough to find Tommy’s face—jaw locked, hand slowly fisting his already hardening cock as he sat back against the headboard, his chest rising and falling in shallow bursts.

Joel’s hand slid back between your legs, fingers circling your clit with unrelenting precision as he fucked you slow and deep.

“Talk to her, Tommy,” Joel said roughly.

Tommy shook his head, jaw clenched. “I—I don’t—”

“C’mon,” Joel grunted, thrusting into you harder, making you cry out. “You don’t want me talkin’ all this shit? Huh? Even if it makes her this wet—” his fingers slid lower, gathering slick, “—thinkin’ of us fightin’ over this sweet, perfect pussy?”

He fucked up into you hard as he growled, and it made you gasp in pleasure.

“Then talk, dammit.”

Tommy’s breath stuttered. You looked at him—desperate and open, mouth parted. You watched his throat bob as he tried to swallow whatever pride or hesitation was left.

Then, finally, his voice came low, rough, uncertain.

“You like this, baby?” he rasped, the words strange in his mouth but soaked in truth as he leaned forward, looking up at you. “Like me watchin’ while he fucks you?”

You moaned, the sound unholy and obscene as your body twitched. You tried to nod while Joel’s cock dragged deep again, slow and relentless, the stretch still too much, still perfect.

“Oh, she fuckin’ loves it,” Joel growled in your ear. His palm slid up your chest, fingers curling over the other breast as he kept your back flush to him. “That look on her face? All fucked-out and needy.”

Tommy let out a shuddering breath. His eyes never left yours.

“Look at you,” he said, a little bolder now. “You’re so pretty like this. Letting us ruin you.”

Your breath hitched. Your thighs were shaking again, a whimper escaping as Joel’s fingers found your clit once more, slick and swollen. He rubbed you just right—tight, insistent circles that made your eyes roll back.

“Fuck, that’s it,” Joel grunted. “You close again, baby? I can feel it. You’re squeezin’ me so tight.”

Tommy leaned forward, looking up at you as he reached for your trembling legs, rubbing your skin and kneading it in his hands as his cock twitched in his hand, “That’s it, sweetheart. Come for us. Show us how much you love bein’ ours.”

That did it.

Your body clenched hard, a cry ripping from your throat as the orgasm slammed into you—fierce, fast, and overwhelming. You trembled violently, hips jerking, mouth open but wordless as you came again, harder this time, unraveling between them.

You were still shaking when your body started to shift—Joel's cock still buried deep, grinding against your overstimulated walls with every slow, hungry thrust. You reached forward, chest dropping toward the bed, bracing yourself on your hands as you whimpered through the aftershocks.

But you weren’t done. Not even close.

“Tommy,” you gasped, voice hoarse and half-broken. “Let me—please, let me touch you. Wanna make you come again.”

You reached for him blindly, your hand finding his thigh as he knelt close, cock hard again in his grip.

He looked stunned, blinking at you like he couldn’t believe it. “Jesus, baby,” he muttered, and he looked up at Joel, “How the hell are you still goin’ after that? The way she gripped me when--”

Joel gave a low, breathless laugh behind you, his thrusts never faltering. “Not my first time, remember?”

He leaned forward over your back, his voice rough and possessive in your ear.

“She gets like this,” Joel said, fucking into you harder now, making your arms tremble. “Once you open her up, she just needs. Can’t help herself, can you, baby?”

You moaned, loud and desperate, your hand finally wrapping around Tommy’s cock again, bringing it into your mouth.

Your husband groaned, hips twitching toward your touch. “Fuckin’ insatiable,” he breathed. “You’re gonna kill me, sweetheart.”

Joel grinned, lips brushing your shoulder before pulling back to straighten, gripping your hips. “She’s gonna milk us dry.”

You moaned at the filthy words, too far gone to be embarrassed, too full to care. You rocked between them, wrecked and desperate—Joel’s cock dragging deep inside you with each powerful thrust, your mouth stretched wide around Tommy’s length, tongue flattened along the underside.

Every time Joel thrusted forward, it shoved you farther onto Tommy’s cock. Your throat clenched, gagging slightly, and both men groaned—low and guttural at the dual sensation of your body constricting around them.

Your eyes watered, spit pooling at the corners of your lips as you tried to breathe around it, the slick sounds obscene in the best way.

Tommy’s hand came to your cheek, his thumb stroking gently along your jaw as he looked down at you. His face was tight with restraint, flushed and glassy-eyed, jaw twitching, “Look so pretty with a cock in her mouth, doesn’t she?”

Joel grunted behind you, slamming deep, making your body jolt forward. “Sure does,” he growled. “Takin’ us both so good, baby. Just like that.”

You whimpered, the only sound you could manage, body fluttering with overstimulation, throat spasming around Tommy’s cock as he hissed through his teeth.

Joel’s grip tightened, his thrusts getting faster, more desperate, and you could feel the wave starting to build again—relentless, all-consuming. You didn’t know how much more your body could take.

“Come on, baby,” Tommy groaned. “Fuck—your mouth feels so good, sweetheart. Just like that. Don’t stop.”

Joel leaned in, his voice thick with heat. “You gonna come again with your mouth full, baby? Think you can come for both of us this time?”

Your whole body responded—tightening instinctively, like those words alone triggered something deep inside. Joel’s hand slid beneath you, and you flinched with a soft gasp as his fingers found your clit again—soaked, swollen, aching from how close you already were.

It was too much. Too good. You couldn’t take it, and yet your body begged for more.

The touch was too light at first—then perfect. Circling. Pressing. Your spine arched, your thighs trembled, and your moan vibrated around Tommy’s cock, still heavy and hot on your tongue.

You could barely register where one of them ended and the other began—just pressure and stretch and friction and heat. Joel’s thrusts stayed deep and punishing, perfectly timed with the slow drag of his fingers.

Suddenly your whole body locked, muscles spasming as another orgasm tore through you—sharp and blinding, your vision whiting out as you clenched hard around Joel’s cock, milking him through every brutal thrust.

You moaned around Tommy’s length, the sound desperate and guttural, and that was all it took for either of them.

Joel cursed behind you—low, rough, wrecked. He thrust once, twice more, then buried himself as deep as he could go, spilling inside you with a broken growl. His hands were shaking where they gripped your hips, holding you there like he couldn’t let go.

The hot pulse of him filled you completely, thick and heavy, and the sensation only dragged your orgasm out longer, your legs trembling violently beneath you.

Tommy let out a choked moan above you, his hips stuttering as your throat fluttered around him. His hand cupped your cheek, and with one more shaky breath, he came—spilling into your mouth with a soft, desperate, “Fuck, baby.”

You took it all, swallowing around him as gently as you could, the muscles of your throat still spasming from Joel’s final, deep thrusts.

Then—finally—everything slowed.

Tommy pulled back with a groan, slumping onto the bed beside you with a heavy exhale, one arm flung over his face as he tried to catch his breath. Joel eased out of you from behind, and you whimpered at the emptiness, already missing the stretch of him, the weight. Your body felt boneless, dazed and trembling, as you rolled to your side and melted into the mattress beside Tommy.

Joel didn’t stay far. Within seconds, he collapsed on your other side with a low, satisfied grunt, still half-wrapped in heat and sweat. His arm slid beneath your head, pulling you gently against his chest until you were tucked in close, skin to skin, your cheek resting just below his collarbone.

You were fully tangled between them now—Joel’s leg brushing yours, Tommy’s chest warm against your back, his hand finding your thigh and resting there like a grounding weight.

The heat of three bodies lingered in the air—sticky and quiet and strangely comforting.

Tommy’s hand found your stomach and gave it a slow rub, and when you looked over at him—he was watching you, not angry, not brooding. Just… tired. And stunned.

You let out a laugh. A small, breathless one, but real.

Then another.

Your face tucked against Joel’s arm, shoulders shaking with laughter, and Joel chuckled too—low and lazy, like he couldn’t even muster the energy to be smug, “Troublemaker.”

Tommy let out a breathless huff, still holding you tight, and nuzzled into the curve of your neck. “I’m not sure I survived that,” he murmured, and then he started laughing too—open, surprised, stunned, “Feel like I blacked out halfway through,”

You turned your head toward him, smiling wide, and kissed the side of his mouth. “You were perfect.”

The three of you fell into an easy silence, wrapped up in sweat and warmth and the quiet hum of something unspoken—something new.

“Shit,” Joel muttered, his chest shaking from a chuckle, “Think we’re gonna need a bigger bed.”

And for the first time in a long time, the three of you were laughing together.

tag list: @alidiggory92 @pinkylouise @izzy698 @doblasftcisco @devotedlypaleluminary @elsplayground @puduvallee @victoriaholland @legoemma @leenieweenie12 @possiblyafangirl @alitaar @mads198-9 @emmaoc10 @auteurdelabre @the-last-twin-of-krypton @lilasskicker2 @levislegislation @flowercrowns-goodvibes

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knightyoomyoui · 2 days ago

Text

Lose Our Control - PART 1 [+18] (COMMISSIONED)

ft. TWICE (x Male Reader) ft. Aespa and IU

TYPE: Fluff, Smut

WORD COUNT: 5744

NOTE: This is my first fic to feature LOTS of idols in just a single one-shot, that’s why I had to divide this story into two so that it won’t look too long and confusing to read and for the sake of every character’s involvement in the plot. Also, don't expect IU too much in here yet, She'll only be teased for now, and her huge part will be on Part 2. ORDERED BY: @vl-47

DONATE OR REQUEST FOR COMMISSION HERE: https://ko-fi.com/knightyoomyoui TAGS: harem, lots of sex and kinks, alcohol, cheating

DESCRIPTION: You are a songwriter who was offered to construct a song for TWICE's upcoming album, leading to a surreal romantic relationship with all of the members. They proposed engaging in sexual activities to prevent unbalanced attention and affection, but this also led to manifestation of a problem when you encounter another group of idols seeking for their lust to be satisfied while your partners are away for work.

===OOO===

START

You've had big ambitions about the career that will propel you forward ever since you realized how talented you are as a songwriter. Popularity rise, hit songs that shatter mainstream records, and surprising partnerships with other musicians.

It all happened fortunately, thanks for everything that you did to make your name well-known in the industry as a hitmaker, but it would be selfish to do so if you would just discard the truth that other people also helped you to achieve that.

Although you adore your admirers who value your ability to write lyrics that speak to everyone in a variety of life circumstances, you feel that one particular group deserves special recognition.

While their primary contribution to your song is simply to sing what you've written, they went above and beyond for your career. People became so interested in and eagerly awaited your songs because of their personalities and their current position in the industry as well-known K-Pop idols.

You were referring to TWICE, a nine-member girl group signed to JYP Entertainment. It went on from there since you accepted an invitation to participate in one of their tracks. Although it's a typical situation for most people, the success, the delight, and, outside of your job, your partnership with them allowed you to to experience what it's like to be in a relationship with someone you are drawn to.

For the majority of people, this is a typical situation. However, you? You would never have imagined that getting involved in love would lead to a rare series of events that would cause not only one person but also a group of stunningly beautiful women to fall in love with you all at once.

When the company and even the members realized how well your song was received and how it helped their record, it all began when you wrote another song for them.

It wouldn't hurt to have a second conversation to help you all start to feel at ease working together, so you all made a choice to learn more about each other far from only as collaborators.

You started to create friendships with 9 new people. Different personalities yet same values. Determination, hardworking, and sacrifice all for the height of dreams aiming in their careers.

Nayeon, Jeongyeon, Momo, Sana, Jihyo, Mina, Dahyun, Chaeyoung, and Tzuyu. Nine bunches of beautiful women are the last things you would consider to add from those qualities they possess.

On the other hand, during the times when TWICE gets to spend more time with you, they’ve gotten closer to what you truly are aside from just being a professional who helps them to maintain the expectations that fans are anticipating for them to deliver.

They’ve observed your attitude as well, little aspect that they find interesting, and most importantly your looks. It may be not the type of visual for a guy that some of them would admire, but there’s difference to it that otherwise makes them consider it to be.

Every moments, every time passes, every self-reflection they do in their own space; they’ve all been realizing that this is starting to become more than what they could imagine it to be.

For the first time, they found love in the midst of their career.

They were gathered in the living room, a perfect timing to discuss what truly these all means for them.

“What do you guys find about YN?”, Nayeon began the topic.

“”He’s nice, cool person to get along with. I get so comfortable being with him because we share the same hobbies.” Jeongyeon shared.

“He also makes me feel not worried about the times that I just make myself embarrass with him whenever I do dumb stuffs and such. Like I feel that he’s the only guy aside from all of you who gets me.” Momo said.

“Yeah, agree. But let’s set aside how good he is, I know some of yall would also follow as well. Can we also acknowledge how cute he is? Like, I just want to cuddle him forever.” Sana spoke it with a dreamy tone.

Jihyo chuckled and shook her head. “I think you can say that to him and he’ll allow you, Sana.”

“Oh I definitely will, but I’m afraid he might take it different. Maybe he-”

“Ignore you when he starts take it as something? I get that because I relate too.” Jihyo seconded. “He’s handsome, no doubt. Everytime he’s there, whatever he do I just couldn’t help but to watch him.”

“Didn’t you also do that to us all the time?” Jeongyeon asked.

“I do, but he’s different. I’m not looking at him proudly like you girls, I rather stare at him like… yeah you got it. I’m admiring him a lot closer.” Jihyo said while her expression contorts as if she’s literally seeing an illusion of your presence with them to stare like she does at you.

“Unnies right, YN is very good-looking. I bet he’ll pass as a visual if only he’s an idol.”

“Yet he sucks at dancing.” Momo teased you which made everybody laugh with Mina covering her mouth at how unexpected that roast was. “But I don’t mind, that’s what makes me adorable to me.”

“I think Momo unnie is also getting to the fact that YN is the complete opposite of what we are in other things and that’s what makes me get intrigued at him aside from his face.” Dahyun clarified.

“Was he even aware that there could be an instance that one of us is going to have a crush on him? Because if he does, such cruel of him to get into our feelings and make us struggle with it.” Chaeyoung touched her chest. “Sorry guys, I know I’m obvious but I can’t hide it anymore. I’m just like you all.”

“Weren’t we all? I wonder if YN already knew.” Tzuyu responded. “I like what Dahyun unnie has said by the way, my ideal guy is someone who is the complete opposite of what I can do but not who I possess, and I believe YN is the perfect person for me to give as an example.”

“So that’s what it is then. After all we’ve heard from one another, we all do love him huh.” Nayeon concluded.

“Yeah.” They all answered.

“But wait, if nine of us are having a crush on him, will it be fine for the rest if one of us ends up confessing to him? Also, is there anybody from us right now who is planning to do so?”

Nayeon herself, Momo, Dahyun, and Chaeyoung were the ones who raised their hands.

“How about you guys?”

They all shared one common thought: they were still hesitating due to fear.

“Now that we’ve confirmed that we all like him equally, doesn’t that make you guys bothered? Seeing him might end up on one of us? I’ll start, I do.”

“Kinda.” Momo followed.

“Nope, but I’ll be disappointed if I couldn’t have him. He’s that kind of guy.” Dahyun admitted.

“Same.” Chaeyoung said.

“I know this is stupid�� but for the sake of us all, what if we all figure it out together?”

“What are you suggesting, Sana?”

“What if we confess together at him? To be honest, I’ll be sad if I don’t get YN. But at the same time, if I ever have a chance, I don’t want to break all of your hearts because of what I did. So, what if we all face it together?

If only he could love us at once instead.”

“Woah wait, Sana isn’t that too much?” Jeongyeon shockingly questioned.

“But what can we do? I don’t mind if that happen. It’s either he loves us or none would be getting it back, much worse to witness one of us and him painfully in person.”

“Hmm… that could be impossible but are you really saying that we should consider it on our option for him to decide?”

Sana nodded.

“You know what, it’s already dumb and stupid for all of us to fall for the same guy. We can’t make ourselves look more ridiculously hypocrite if we decline Sana’s idea.” Nayeon said.

“So… we do it tomorrow?”

ACT 2

The girls carried that plan within themselves until they kept managing to act professional under your guidance as they record your song on the studio with the other staffs. The more they talk and glance at YN, it helps them to reevaluate further the decision they’re going to make, and based from how their hearts react, there’s no more denial anymore to it.

After the producer called the day done, all of them began to left until TWICE immediately called you to halt you from your tracks. You turned to gave them a curious look.

“Can we talk to you about something first, oppa?” Nayeon initiated the move.

“Sure, go ahead.” You openly allowed them.

“Okay… please hear us out from start to finish, oppa. This may not be the one you expect, but we just really want to ask you this.” She understood before letting the others speak.

“So uhm… last night we discussed about something to clear up our minds that’s been boggling us for couple of weeks now.” Jeongyeon began to take the turn.

“We suspected that we share the common curiosity, that’s why we decided to assist ourselves by clarifying what is this that we hold deep inside to ourselves that’s affecting us how we act around.” Momo added.

“You’re gonna be shocked to learn this but… It’s about the feelings we all developed… for you, oppa.” Sana shyly said, gripping her arm.

Your eyes widened after hearing that. You were unsure if you caught that right. Did she just said that it’s not just she… but them who feels something more for him?

They were right, this isn’t exactly what you were predicting. Insane to believe, so you wanted to know more from them.

“Girls…hold on, what do you all mean with that? Like really-”

“We have a crush for you, oppa.” Jihyo made it comprehensible. You turned at her and gave her a baffled reaction. How did this end up in this situation? What luck or rare charm that you have for you to pull out nine baddies at the same time?

“W-what? S-seriously?” You stuttered at how surreal it is.

“We get it, oppa. Even each of us know that it’s ridiculous that not just one of us were admiring you but all of us do as well. But we have our own reasons to justify and not that we’re just going along with the ride that’ll make one of us feel betrayed.” Mina continued.

Dahyun nodded, agreeing with Mina. “Just like what we’ve all shared with one another, it all began from how you started to make us comfortable in your presence. You wanted to get to know more about us and not just for work because you’ve heard that we’re good person. Because of that, our heart probably reacted different that we expected from you how perceive and treat us.”

“That you were more eager to become closer with us because of who we are and not just by our talents that we use for us to be recognized by many. Our appreciation for that, well it blossomed a lot that it came to this moment where at first we’re oblivious to the fact that we’re harboring equal level of admiration for you.” Chaeyoung iliterates.

“Which is why right now, we wanted to ask you personally and find out what would it be when we say that we are confessing our feelings to you. It’s either you chose one of us or…” Tzuyu sighed and chuckled at this ridiculous thought that the girls just smiled in guilt knowing why did the youngest paused like that.

“Love us together at once would be a lot better. It’s all up for you to pick oppa.”

“And we’re not rushing you, oppa okay? You can give us your answer days later, no matter how long it is, we’ll wait.” Nayeon assured, patting your blank state. “We’ll be making our leave now, thank you for hearing us oppa.” They all bowed and one by one they exit at the door, leaving you dumbfounded in the studio alone.

It took you a week reprocessing what they just said. It also made you lost in reality and get a lack of proper sleep thinking about it. Mixed emotions rising with you as the outcome of their confession.

Confused because of how impactful your kind actions for them that led for them to develop crush on you, relieved that you’ve being cherished more than you have to get, and scared of hurting them.

You just shrugged and shook your head at how crazy these all have been. The girls may have noticed how it affected you, but you tried to compose yourself so that it won’t make them assume that it’s distracting you in a bad way. Instead, their approach of you was the one you used to observe them and help you to comfirm your answer you’ll be making.

It came to the point where in a Monday morning, the last recording of TWICE for their upcoming album. You visited the studio and gave an excuse to support them to avoid confusion for the staffs since he’s not technically the lyricist anymore for the song they’re recording.

As they finished, some remained which prevented all ten of you to share the space privately again. Fortunately, Jihyo has another spot in mind to relocate yourselves and continue the topic.

You find yourselves now standing in their eco-friendly garden on the top of their agency’s building. They all stood in front of you, forming like a barricade of beauty.

Giving them one last observation of their visuals, the growing tightness in your chest was enough for you to proceed.

“It seems you’ve finally came up with an answer, oppa.” Jihyo said. “We have to admit, we’re a bit scared but… it’s our fault anyway so…”

“No, don’t regret it, Jihyo-ah. Girls, please, I don’t want to make you guys regret falling in love with somebody. For me. And I don’t want neither to feel like I’m such a bad option to be considered for that.” You disregarded it.

“Actually, I want thank you all instead that you girls find me as what you’ve all said about me. I feel appreciated and… I wanted to return the favor, but ofcourse just as how much you girls thought about it, I have to do the same.

And it seems that… after a week of observing you all, I realized that… I did fall in love also.”

Their face all lifted when they heard it. It was the exact positive words they wanted to learn. However it didn’t lasted long as it slowly shrank because they remembered about the choices they laid for you. This just could be bittersweet for them to accept.

“I fall in love… for every single one of you.”

They all looked at you with trembling smiles and almost teary eyes. “I don’t know how this will work loving all nine of you at once but… for now, I’ll just enjoy how lucky I am to have all of you.”

You grinned and let out a surprised sound when Sana immediately ran to hug you before the rest joined her, wrapping you into a group embrace instead. Their cheers and soft expressions made you chuckle at how adorable they were.

A year later and a half later, your relationship with them was stable despite some challenges. Thankfully, your frequent conversations with them allowed you to develop a way to keep things all too well between all of you.

Attention, affection, and time has to be given equally and for that, they offered a recommendation to make your relationship discover better amusement and another form to feel each other’s love.

Nayeon was the one who proposed the idea of trying sex to make things interesting and test each other's resiliency to withstand witnessing another member being highly intimate with you. They all agreed with it for the sake of another opportunity to have with you and the willingness to measure their endurance.

Since Nayeon was the mastermind, she was the one who didn’t wasted any much time to make it official. She initiated to have the pleasure of having it with you for the first time, and surprisingly for a beginner, the way she shows you how she does it was far from that.

You and her did it on the couch, Nayeon took off your shorts and gets to see the enormous cock she’s been picturing sometimes whenever she gets a sight of your bulge, pretty confident that its size would match how immensely attractive you are, and it sure did not disappoint.

All you had to do is to watch her please you while eating your food. She licked her lips before gently lifted your cock with her fingertips as she led it into her warm mouth. She sucked you off, feeling the slickness of her soft tongue and plump lips taking every inch of you.

Her grip become full-fisted as she began ejaculating you while her mouth isn’t full, taking a breather for a second. She didn’t forget about you hanging testicles too, she knew it also requires the same attention at how delectable its size was. Pointing your cock upwards, she pumped you fast while she handled each of your balls into her naughty mouth.

She went back at your cock, gathering some bubbling pre-cum of yours and slithering it around your reddish mushroom-shaped cockhead before returning it to her warm cavern . You swayed some hair blocking her face and placed your hand on top of her head as you savor the feeling of her blowjob. Her continuous upward stare at you as she locked you into her deepthroat turned you on.

You shivered when she vibrates in your cock with her gags and hums. You move her head again for few more strokes until you start to feel the tempting climax. Nayeon then felt your semen erupting in her mouth, she let go and presented your load in her tongue before swallowing it off including the remaining drops from your tip flowing in which she pinched your head for some.

It then followed with the other members, whether they get it solo on the following days or having two or more of them on the same day. You got a taste of Jeongyeon’s milf physique on her bedroom, taking too much time pounding her thickness in a breeding position around the bed.

You fucked Momo in the shower after taking a bath from the gym. Being helpful you are other than supporting her in every position you took her in the shower walls and in the bathtub, you washed her body with soap and ofcourse you paid too much attention on her perfect round tits and ass.

Sana likes it rough, you made sure as per request to make her completely spent and possibly unable to walk straight the next day. As a result of ferocious hammering into her that made her scream loud, hair dishevelled, and getting bounced aggressively, she was left on bed spewing with cum.

Jihyo serviced you more with the biggest asset she has on her godly built body which is her impressive pair of breasts. She did almost everything with it to make you feel good along with her Titjob, massage, another breastfeeding, you name it.

Mina was the one who showed difference than the rest of the girls. She likes it being more in control, having this mommy kink that had you submitting with her dominant charm.

Taking a break from getting exposed too much on playing games, that’s why she rather used you as her plaything instead, edging your cock for an hour until she lets you give her a creamy facial where its streak felt neverending.

Dahyun and Chaeyoung decided to double-tandem you, they wanted to contribute something new as well to your sexual life with them while assisting each other’s tension of trying sex for the first time. If Dahyun has her hourglass body to offer, then Chaeyoung has her petite quality. You ragdolled each of them in any angle possible while still applying a bit of care into it, taking advantage of how vulnerable they appear.

You enjoyed using Dahyun’s surprisingly packing rear, probably because of her small waist that is an effective handle for you to use while putting her in doggystyle. Chaeyoung endured your roughness by bending her to the limit as you force her to take your cock all the way. It ended with both of them laying on your side, exhausted at your performance.

Lastly, Tzuyu has some similarity with Momo, Jihyo, and Mina. She likes it when she showcases the proudest part of her body as an effective tool to provide euphoria in sex.

You emptied your load you have in store in her puffy pussy and mouth, until she decides to conclude your time with her by letting you use her perfectly meaty thighs in any way possible, making sure that it’ll be the part she’ll have to clean a lot later by how much cum it’ll receive.

It all were amazing, and they will absolutely beg for more if they need it. It became challenging for you both to control your lust while one of you was unavailable because it had now become a habit in your relationship with them.

That’s why when one day, TWICE had to fly to another country to start their world tour, resulting in their months long disappearance. Both were affected by it, yet it turns out that you are the one who were unable to resist the urge in the end.

Brought on by the struggle of longing and desperation, you attempted to look for something else to spend your time with. First thing that came to your mind is to call your childhood bestfriend Ji-eun or better known right now as IU by many, the name she uses as an actress and a soloist in the industry. She regretfully informed you that she's not available because of her current busy schedule for the filming of her new project. She apologized and promised you by the end of the call that once she's done, she'll catch up right ahead and always be there around you when needed. You appreciated and understand her, but the decrease of your patience goes by in the following days. It then came to an end when one of your other friends invited you to a club to celebrate for their job promotion, and you joined them. It was loud and lively inside, but it doesn’t help you yet with the other uncomfortable problem.

You took too much glass of alcohol, your senses starts to slowly drift away from your consciousness. A woman approaches on the counter and saw you, her interest piqued.

“You seem alone. Nobody’s with you.”

You pointed behind lazily and spoke gibberishly. “There, my friends.”

“Oh. They look like they’re having fun. Why are you here?”

“Bored. Dancing sucks.”

She giggled. “Can’t say the same.” She took a gulp of another drink in her wineglass.

“Want to get out of here? I’m free to accompany you. Maybe I can help you enjoy the rest of the night with my friends.”

“Whatever you say, gorgeous. But sorry, I’m taken.”

“She’ll never know.” She comforted you, caressing her hands across your arm. “Come on,don’t be a bummer. Whoever that girl of yours is, including those friends of yours. They’re pathetic leaving you alone here, so just forget everybody for now.”

She made you stand up from your seat. “We’ll make sure that all you’ll be going to think about tonight… is us.” She smirked before she pulled you with her. Too drunk and weak, she easily directed you to the table where three other women are laughing together.

“Girls, look what I found.”

They all looked at the long curly black haired woman cuddling your arm.

“He looks hot!”

“You snatched a perfect guy.”

“Way to go, Karina!”

Karina grinned proudly before she eyed you mischieviously. “Come on, let’s go found ourselves a place to start.

You and them entered a vacant VIP room through the hallway. Right after the door went shut, Karina pushed you to the left wall and stared seductively at you, studying your eyes weakly flickering and lips partly gawked open.

Her image were becoming blurry, and each snap of your vision were trying to recover a glimpse of a sight. That didn’t do much help rather, as it only casted an alluring disguise of Chaeyoung sporting black curly hair just like Karina’s.

Your unstable condition made you believe that the girls are now back to reconcile with you after such long tiring days. Even the three other unfamiliar girls turned into them after you turned at them.

Karina forcefully turned your head back to face her. She cupped your cheeks and bit her lips. “You must be wondering why you? Baddies only deserve to be with the hotties, that’s why… and I find you to be one.”

She escaped a warm breath at your ear before going below to your neck, trailing kisses and sucks all over it before she starts undressing your shirt. Karina goes back on mauling you, with your hands now placed through her packing rear.

“We got all organized now here, Jimin. Let’s have him somewhere more comfortable, will ya?” Giselle said, popping out a cork of the champagne.

“Heard them? We’re going to give you a fuck of a lifetime, baby. So good that you’ll be coming back for more.” She chuckled before grabbing your wrist and took you to the side of the bed.

The rest of the three members began taking off their clothes. Karina went back to have your attention again, sharing french kisses with you in which she has leading the action at first until her intimacy gets you more hypnotized that your senses started to join along to the heating temptation growing on you.

She felt your hands inspecting her figure from behind while her arms wrapped around your head. After a minute, she decided to turn things even wilder.

Crashing to the sofa, you sat at the edge when Ningning and Winter crawled from behind and captured your sides. You reciprocated Ningning’s lips while Winter made you moan with her mouth planted at your jaw and your neck.

Distracting your attention for a moment allowed Karina to take off her white shirt and jeans, revealing her matching black laced bra and panties. She walked sexily at you and straddled your lap, signalling that it’s time to focus back at the most well-endowed woman in the room.

Karina deeply kisses you again and began grinding on your crotch. She roamed her hands up and down at your pecs. Her head thrown aback as she was now the one who is feeling her chest and shoulder more attention, licking and sucking them enough to form hickeys.

With one last sniff on her neck, you reached at the lock of her bra behind and unclasped it, releasing two huge natural pillows of fat hanging above her midsection. Karina mewled as she felt your hands grasp from underneath of her tits and squeeze them roughly.

You were playing them together, stimulating her nipples to erect when Giselle appeared behind Karina, now wearing only a blue bra. She raised the champagne bottle and poured it down on Karina presenting her entire front at you.

Alcohol flowing down across her body would be a waste of an amount, it encouraged you to make some of it worth it by lunging down on her tits, hungrily chomping at them like a lion enjoying his prey brought by the pent up frustration of longing. Karina sways her body side to side to help you rub your face through her wet breasts.

One last kisses on each of those pink areolas, Karina had enough to give the others turn while she minds her own business. Ningning and Winter sat each at your thighs and grinded at them while you claim each piece of their sizes.

On your back, Giselle helps her two friends be soaked in alcohol as well before massaging your back with her own package. Karina strips down your pants and boxers, she grins at the sight of your 7-inches cock throbbing at the lewd act you’re participating in.

All of them are now busy pleasuring you. Giselle with her tits pressed at your back, you alternating Ningning and Winter’s bodies, and Karina choking at your cock.

It went for minutes before Karina gave you some few fast strokes and handed your cock to Giselle. Before she does so, she requested something unique for you to do first.

“Go all fours, baby. I want each of us to have a taste.”

You followed afterwards. Through Giselle’s direction, Ningning and Winter spreaded their legs together in front of your head while Giselle and Karina went near at your hanging manhood.

“Would you look at this? So thick and girthy. Can’t believe we can finally all have something like this after long attempts to search.” Giselle said while flicking your erect shaft back and forth.

“Save all the thanks, all that matters now is we drain his semen inside these precious testicles in its last drop. We’ve craved for a long time to get some of this, and now we’re here. ” Karina said as she choked your balls around the gap of her thumb and index.

“Yeah, we better not waste this moment. I’ll go with his dick, you go with his balls then we’ll switch. Deal?”

“I’m fine with either of them, both are massive anyways.”

Giselle inserted herself between your legs, laying down and facing your cock. You adjusted a bit, lowering it for her to suck slowly. Karina then kneeled behind you, she starts rimming at your ass first as she realizes how this position granted her an extra reward as well.

Everybody is now creating slurping, smacking, and gagging sounds in the room. Ningning moaned lustfully while her pussy is being eaten, Winter almost screamed feeling your fingers getting erratic invading her insides, Giselle hums as she swirls her tongue around while you filled her mouth with your cock, and Karina formed her lips in an O-shape to fit into your balls each and suck them until they’re a mess of her spit.

Reaching each others climax, Ningning and Winter staining the bed as they squirted together. Giselle swallowed some of your cum with your cock giving few more pushes down to her throat, then she gets up to remove herself so that you can spin around and sat with Karina making sure your cock is still in its erect size by giving you a short titjob.

The next morning, you woke up in an unfamiliar room in shock to find three women sleeping with you. It was late for you to realize that all of you are naked, with no memories of the lengthy fivesome that happened through the whole five hours of dawn after relocating to a nearby motel.

“Oh, you’re now awake.” Karina greets you, holding her mug of coffee as she appeared from the balcony. She was only wearing her bathrobe.

“Who are you and them? H-how did I got here?” You asked as you tried to remove yourself between these women.

“Tone it down, it’s rude to interrupt someone in their sleep, especially if its my friends.” Karina said.

You hopped out of the bed, trying not to awake them. “Seriously, what is this? Did something happened last night?”

“Oh, you don’t remember do you?” Karina said. “Your tolerance sucks and yet your girlfriend even let you hang around on a bar alone. She must be stupid or something.”

“Don’t talk like that about them- uhh her.” You immediately corrected yourself after accidentally spilling out that it’s not just singular. “Shit, okay whatever that happened to us, it’ll be the last time. Okay?”

“Well that was fun until it lasted.” Karina shrugged. “Although I admit, it kind of sucks knowing how hard you fucked us around the VIP room and even here. All of us are stuffed with your load.” She teased as she rubs her tummy. “I even woke up with some still leaking on my thighs.Your stamina is insane, my guy.”

“W-wait, I came inside?” You horrifying questioned as the possibilities of that ran in your mind.

“Yeah. But don’t worry, were idols so… we take birth controls. Pregnancy ain’t for us yet.” Karina assured you as you breathed in relief.

Your eyes went wide as you also noticed something. “Hold on, you are idols?”

“You didn’t know? We’re Aespa, I thought you knew us. Ain’t bragging but we do are popular.”

“Heard of it but I never that much of a huge K-Pop fan to do more research.”

“Okay, well it’s fine and congrats too, I guess. You’re a lucky guy who got to bang one of the hottest women that probably most of the male fans of ours out there were fantasizing to gain an opportunity with us.” She smirked.

“Anyways, don’t worry. You can leave now. Keep it a secret and we’ll do mine as well. You have a relationship to protect and we have our image too.” She told you.

You picked up your clothes and dressed yourself to prepare leaving. Karina gets closer at you. “But still, if ever you need to unwind and take your troubles away… dial us up.” She hand gestures a phone call and kisses your cheek before leaving the door without any response.

As you exit the apartment, you cursed under your breath frustratingly. You just fucked another women beside TWICE. Worse, behind their backs and that means you just committed a sin in your relationship with them.

You know to yourself that you’re screwed, but to keep yourself safe, you just have to forget that nothing just happened.

Unbeknownst to you, it was only for a matter of time… END OF PART ONE ===OOO===

#twice smut #aespa smut #twice x male reader #aespa x male reader #twice oneshot #twice au #aespa oneshot #aespa au #kpop au #kpop oneshot

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im-a-loaf · 1 day ago

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@ghostertoasted

uh-oh! you’re stuck in double life! spin the wheel to find out which life series member the string of fate has tied you to.

#GRIAN ooooooooh #we're similar in the fact that we're quite logical(? he comes off to me that way)#...although he'd likely influence me to be more mischievous lmao #but i think we'd go well together!#grian #life series #double life #inspo #? maybe :0 #✦ my idiot brother's here

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luveline · 2 days ago

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hi 🙈 would u do a request of steve with a reader that’s an emotional drunk? love ur work 💖

thanks for requesting lovely! fem, 1k

“I think that you think you have a way higher threshold for getting drunk than you actually have.”

You nod emphatically. “Yeah!”

Steve grins. You’re sitting on the high stool next to his slowly attempting to spin yourself around. He’s holding the chair steady with his leg under the bar. A milkshake and a burger sit in front of you largely untouched.

Steve takes a sip of his own milkshake and feels the frozen vanilla hit the roof of his mouth as you fill the silence. “‘Cos I always drink a bunch right at the start of the night thinking it won’t get me, and it does!”

Steve doesn’t drink at all anymore. He doesn’t like the idea of being inebriated, whether of his own will or not, but he doesn’t mind being your guardian for the night, any night you want. Robin got you plastered because you’re drinking for two, a joke she insists on and nobody finds all that funny sober. If she said it to you now you’d crumple off of your seat to the floor and cry tears of joy. Everything is heightened. Your excitement, your boredom, your hunger. You’d pleaded with Steve to buy you a burger, and have quickly forgotten it’s there.

He takes your knife and cuts the burger in half, then again into quarters. “Here,” he says quietly, more subdued than he means to be in the face of your freneticism. “Before it gets cold, baby.”

He likes all of the pet names now he’s with you. You’re a sweetheart, an angel, his bub, babe, baby, it doesn’t matter how corny the word is, if he thinks about you in the right way he can say it with full sincerity. Babygirl was a bad phase, but baby sticks.

“Thank you,” you say, reaching under his arm to link you together as you pick up one of your quarters, lettuce and tomato and sauce spilling out the sides.

“You’re welcome. You know that.”

You smile around a huge bite and wipe your appled cheeks clean with the side of your hand, giving him these looks you’ve perfected, not shy but almost, I’m so lucky unsaid but felt. Steve can’t really understand why you’d feel that way about him, he’s a loser, he’s not pretty, he doesn’t work out anymore, but none of that stuff matters because why should it? He doesn’t care that you’re a lightweight, that you snore like a freight train, that you pull your lip in between your teeth whenever you’re thinking too deeply and accidentally look like the victim of a botched face lift. It’s all inconsequential. The stuff that matters is your arm like a weight through his and how happy you were when he paid for your burger and fries.

He squeezes you under the chin as you chew to hold you still for a kiss. “Love you. You look beautiful.”

“I do?” you ask through burger. You try to cover your mouth best you can, but Steve doesn’t care.

“You do. Tonight was fun, yeah? I had a great time with you, like always.”

Your eyebrows pinch up. Your eyes begin to swim. Steve blinks in shock as you swallow and grab onto his wrist, your lips shiny with what might be ketchup as you begin to pout. “Steve…”

That’s his fault. My bad. He knows what kind of drunk you are but he knows how much it means to you regardless to hear that you’re appreciated. He shouldn’t have said it yet, maybe a little later when you’d calmed down and your fries had soaked up the beer in your stomach, but it’s too late. He lets his gaze soften. “I mean it,” he says, rubbing your chin with his thumb swiftly, before wrapping his arm around you, lest you feel wobbly again. “Spending time with you is my favourite thing to do.”

“What’s your problem?” you ask, eyes filling with tears, the biggest one he’s ever seen flushed over you waterline as you screw up your face. “That’s so nice. I love you, too.”

“I know,” he says, and if he dips into a babying tone, well, that’s his business.

“You had a good time?” you ask through a shuddery sob.

“I had the best time.”

You turn your face into his arm. Steve ignores the waitress staring at you both to smile into your temple. “You’re not supposed to cry, it’s a good thing!” he says lightly. “I just wanted you to know I had a good time tonight.”

“I had a good time too!” you splutter.

“I know,” he says, “I know you did, why don’t you try and eat some more of your food? You’ll feel less… like this.”

“Sorry!”

“No, don’t be,” he says, firmer now, “it’s okay, I don’t mind, I just don’t want you to be upset–”

“I’m not upset! I love you!”

He can hear the girls in the booth by the door giggling. Steve laughs into your head, ushering your face into his neck to give you some time and a space to calm down. “I love you too. Even if you’re, like, ninety percent bud light right now.”

It takes you ages to calm down and he can’t blame you. You’re super, super drunk, and despite your best attempts at dinner you’ve basically got an empty stomach. He’s trying to save you from puking with the burger, so after a couple of minutes of you saying that you love him and that tonight was really fun, he pulls you out of his neck to meet your eyes. “Can you eat some more for me?” he asks, smiling, knowing it’s ridiculous.

You love it, digging in with your cheeks still wet. Steve wipes at them with the back of his index finger.

“Thank you for taking care of me,” you say around a crinkly bite of romaine lettuce.

“I’m not, but I don’t mind.”

You sniffle. “You have to eat too,” you say.

He offers his hand for holding. You take it, letting them swing between your two chairs, returning for now to your meals. Steve’s opened the floodgates and he’s expecting another bout of crying before bed. Hopefully not while he’s holding your hair back over the toilet bowl.

#steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington #steve harrington fic #steve harrington blurb #steve harrington drabble #stranger things x reader #stranger things fic #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington fanfiction #stranger things

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pyrrhiccomedy · 2 days ago

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"I hate mark s for what he did," "mark scout is evil" cups your face between my hands. do you understand that sometimes in life two people who are basically good and have no intention to do harm - indeed, two people who might be very, very, VERY much alike - can want things that are incompatible with their mutual success. do you understand that when that real, human, inevitable circumstance occurs, deciding to pursue your own happiness in favor of the happiness of someone you don't know is a tacit statement that, at least to you, you are more important than they are. And that is simply a fact about any time you decide to put your own well-being ahead of the desires of others, and that it isn't fundamentally wrong to do so, it's just a symptom of living in the world together. do you understand that living in the world with other people sometimes means there will be struggle and sorrow even if there are no bad actors, and that the failure on display here is not that one man wants a life with his wife and can't have it, and another man wants a life with his lover and can't have it, but that both men are failing to extend compassion and understanding to each other: the compassion and understanding that is the only thing that will save us in a world where pain is inevitable, despite Lumon's best efforts?

like. do you understand that this is what the show is about

#severance #severance s2 spoilers

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jaylver · 2 days ago

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WE CAN'T BE FRIENDS (WAIT FOR YOUR LOVE) — P.SH

SYNOPSIS: Loving someone was easy, but losing them without knowing the truth was far from easy. How Park Sunghoon returned into your life wasn’t the same as what you had in mind. The heartbreak you experienced over the years he was gone had materialised and was haunting you wherever you went. Dealing with your emotions wasn’t enough when Sunghoon was there, waiting for your love. You knew you had two choices to overcome this: either to regret loving him and lose him yet again, or to rediscover your love for him.

PAIRINGS: writer!sunghoon x editor!afab!reader

GENRE: exes to lovers, angst, romance, slow burn, forced proximity

WARNING(S): mentions of drinking/alcohol, profanities, (lots of) miscommunication

WC: 25k

PLAYLIST: we can't be friends (wait for your love) by ariana grande, back to friends by sombr, the great war by taylor swift

AUTHOR'S NOTE: first fic of 2025! a quite lengthy one too! can't believe time is passing by so quicky, and i haven't been posting since november TT hope you enjoy this one where i (tried my best) to pour every emotion into! please leave a feedback and reblogs are greatly appreciated! muah xx

How did you end up standing in front of your first love after years of not crossing paths?

It should've been just like any other day where you came to work with a cup of coffee in hand, waiting for the day of endless typing and proofreading to end, but somehow, the universe always had a way to surprise you. This surprise, however, was an unfortunate one that would take years for you to recover from.

“Y/N, meet Park Sunghoon, the author of ‘Chaconne’,” your boss, Miss Lee was smiling ear to ear at eight in the morning at the prospect of having one of the country's biggest authors to be in her publishing house. “Sunghoon, this is Y/N L/N, chief editor. She'll be working with you for your new novel,”

No matter how you tried, you just couldn't reciprocate her enthusiasm. Even if you tried to put on a smile, the muscles on your face failed to cooperate with your mind and it only resulted in a deeper frown forming instead. There, standing before you wasn't the famous author that made a name for himself through his breakout novel, but in actuality, it was your first love, Park Sunghoon.

The same man who left you stranded when you needed him most. The very man that broke your heart and left it in pieces. Those teenage years spent together praying for a future where you and him would chase your dreams side-by-side had gone to waste. To you, it looked as if he was the one who succeeded the most out of the two of you. Was it resentment or anger? It didn't matter what it was, after all it was no use denying that there was an underlying grudge you held for the man who achieved everything he wanted after leaving you with no explanations. After those long years of not seeing him in person, fate managed to play him into your life. How funny.

Sunghoon doesn’t look equally excited to be working with you either. He, too, had an expression that was far from enthusiastic. There was a slight tinge of guilt that you sensed, unless it was a figment of your imagination that told you so. He could barely meet your eyes, an uncomfortable unfamiliarity about him hung in the air.

No, he wasn't the same Park Sunghoon that you knew. He was probably a stranger. Despite knowing him well in the past, you couldn’t bear to cling onto the small hope that he was who he used to be. If he was, he wouldn’t have left the country without telling you in the first place and proceeded going no contact till the point where the news became your source of confirming he was alive and well, living too well while basking in fresh money from his newly published book.

“N–new novel?” you looked over at Miss Lee, trying your best to mask the panic in your voice. Out of many publishing houses, must he really choose the one you worked in? What happened to the one publishing his previous books? The question marks were probably written all over your face at some point.

“Yes, a new novel,” Miss Lee affirmed, the unwavering smile sitting perfectly on her expression. “Sunghoon here is planning to publish his new book next year. It’s called ‘Wait For Your Love’. Isn’t that exciting? Anyway, I’ll leave him to you to explain the content, you’ll be working together starting from today onwards. By the way, meeting starts in five minutes, we need to discuss everything about the new book,”

“Right, I’ll get ready,” you watched as your boss disappeared into her own office, heaving a sigh of relief now that she was out of sight and you could finally drop the act of being nice. If anything, you were feeling everything but nice. You met Sunghoon's eyes almost in an instant, the awkward silence filling the space between you and him only made the atmosphere worse.

Out of decent respect, you bowed your head a little and left to head back to your own workspace, hopefully taking advantage of that five minutes to sort out your thoughts. You took one step forward just to be stopped by him calling your name. The sound of your name coming out of his mouth was something that you dreamt of for ages. However, hearing it in reality seemed to have crushed every part of your fantasy.

“Hey Y/N,”

You turned around, slowly and cautiously. In that split second, a million possible scenarios played out in your mind. Maybe he was finally going to explain himself for leaving you, or what if he was offering an overdue apology? An unmistakable feeling of anticipation and hope swelled in your abdomen. It was all wishful thinking.

There was a faint smile on his lips. The look in his eyes said otherwise with an icy barrier that prevented you from reading him further. He truly has changed. Other than the freshly dyed hair and being a couple inches taller, he remained physically the same man from your past that returned to your life recently, the only difference was that he wasn't someone you knew anymore.

“I look forward to working with you,”

He was the first to draw the line.

Just as he's always done, from the point where he disappeared from your life till pretending as if you weren't his first love, he's drawn an invisible line that you failed to realise, an indicator for you to know that you were no longer needed in his life.

You tried to swallow the lump growing in your throat, blinking back the tears piercing your eyes, the corners of your lips twitching in spite. “Right. I hope everything will work out smoothly.”

Truth be told, you wished you had quit your job instead of facing Park Sunghoon once again.

There wasn’t a day in your teenage years transitioning to your early 20s where you hadn’t wondered what exactly went wrong, specifically between you and Sunghoon.

There were countless times you found yourself stuck in endless thoughts of whether it was you who was the one that drove him away. How could he do such a thing to someone he loved? Was it ever truly real? The hurt you experienced was immeasurable, it left a deep cut that was taking forever to heal. Over the last four years since Sunghoon’s departure, you were practically spending your days alone. You were too afraid to get close to anyone to start a serious relationship, neither having the energy to attend those stupid blind dates your friends proposed. All of them were deemed worthless to you anyway, because as much as you hated, dreaded to admit it, some part of you still longed for Sunghoon.

Now that he was actually here, back in your life, crashing into you and your already fragile mental state with no prior warning, you didn’t think the same as before. You wished he had kept his distance from you. Actually, you wished he had stayed far away in the foreign land he was residing in.

Luckily for you, it was another Wednesday with a cup of coffee drunk halfway sitting next to your laptop, overly preoccupied with a pile of work to settle to even think about Sunghoon for a second, that was until you were met with your actual task which you should be tackling instead of doing other things in order to avoid it. The bright screen of your laptop displayed the bolded italic letters, ‘WAIT FOR YOUR LOVE’. Just from the title alone, it ignited an odd sense of ill feelings that dreaded you to scroll down further.

“Hey,” Yunjin tapped you on your shoulder, pulling a chair to sit next to you. She was your coworker that has transcended the tier of being just work friends. You could still remember the first time she introduced herself to you where she accidentally spilled coffee over a newly bought carpet in the office and proceeded to get away by lying. From the point where you promised her you wouldn’t snitch, you somehow built a strong friendship with her.

“What’s up? Lunch break isn’t until an hour later,”

“I know that,” Yunjin broke out in a small smile at the fact you thought she was about to pull you to some new cafe she found. On the contrary, food wasn’t on her mind. She nodded to your laptop, the screen on display with Sunghoon’s name under his book title. “I want to ask about the author,”

“Sunghoon?”

Yunjin raised an eyebrow at you, looking both inquisitive but also interested. "You say his name so naturally,"

"Do I?" you unconsciously bite the insides of your cheek, a habit you’ve grown to have whenever you are anxious. His name alone was enough to send a wave of anxiety through your bones. It also didn't help that Yunjin pointed out how his name rolled off your tongue like second nature. “Whatever. What's up with him?”

“Were you guys … from the same highschool?” the pause in Yunjin’s sentence before finishing it whole almost caused your heart to stop. You expected her to confront you about your past with Sunghoon knowing how well she utilises social media to her will. Did she manage to dig up your past that you tried so hard to escape from?

“We were,”

“Did you know him well?”

What’s with the sudden interrogation going on?

“Somewhat,” you supposed being vague was the safest way to dodge her question, and it seemed she had taken the bait too.

“I saw you in his old post. You were with him and a bunch of other people too,” Yunjin shrugged, mentioning that ever so nonchalantly, but all you could do at that moment was feel the horrors of knowing she’s seen the picture of you and him together. You were more surprised he kept a remnant of you in his account that he barely posted on. Now that he had gained a reputation for himself, you expected him to have deleted his old posts, but you were wrong.

“Oh, right. We had mutual friends,”

“Is that so? What was he like? I’m down to get some inside scoop of a famous author’s past,” she raised her eyebrows, displaying a cheeky smirk that told you she was up to no good. Between work gossip was definitely one way to fuel passionate energy for the rest of the day.

“He’s…” what could you even say? Tell the truth about how great of a person he was to you or lie and say something he wasn’t? Either way, that version of him solely existed in the past, there was no longer any credibility to your words if you were to compare the person he was in present times. “He’s alright, I guess? Don’t know him that much,”

Lies.

“I was thinking you’d have much more information on this guy. He was in America for years before coming back. No one really knows him much, huh? There’s barely anything about him,”

“I guess you can put it that way.”

Avoidant couldn’t last forever. It was proven by Sunghoon’s presence and his draft waiting for you to be edited once you got back from lunch. The screen was still stuck on the front page just as you’ve left it, only then finding a small bit of courage to scroll down to where the main content lied. Staring at the number of pages you had to read through had pulled a groan out of you, and oddly enough, whether it was a coincidence or not, the three numbers of the total pages was also the date of your birthday. Maybe it was a strange coincidence the same as angel numbers were, except you chose not to believe in whatever hidden meaning it has behind it.

Adjusting the pillow behind your back, you settled into your chair for some hours of reading. The story began with two characters in their youth who befriended each other after an interesting accident, getting closer as they spent more time together, and before you knew it, feelings developed. All of those brought a saddening sense of reminiscence to you, every feeling evoked from his words was strangely familiar, even the characters and storyline were somehow relatable in some ways. How weird.

The more you read his story, the distance between you and the screen of your laptop only becomes smaller. You couldn't believe what you were comprehending and the things your eyes were reading. It was a retelling of your life story with Sunghoon that was replaced by fictional characters that had turned into a plot that Park Sunghoon could manipulate into whatever he wants. The confession between the characters, their first date, them in college together, every one of those specific scenarios were exactly what you experienced in the past.

Were you just a short, momentary phase in the story of his life?

This was the story that he's planning to publish? Was he playing some sick joke on you by coming to your publishing house in the first place? To let you know that he's written a story about how you and him first met leading up to the part where he left? If this was a way of him explaining his side of a story through fictional characters in some alternate universe, then it's a shit way of saying sorry.

Slamming your laptop shut, you swallowed down a groan that was threatening to escape. You closed your eyes, wishing you could stop thinking about the draft that brought back a flood of memories that you missed. Even then, you couldn't help picturing those moments you had together, there was a bitter taste in the roof of your mouth at the constant haunting of Park Sunghoon.

You had no choice, there wasn't any other way to face this. So, your hands moved according to their will, picking up your phone and finding the contact under the name ‘Author Park (BLOCK AFTER)’. One press of a finger and it started to ring. For the first time since his reappearance, you didn't feel an impending sense of doom or even the slightest of weariness. Blinding rage at his audacity played a role in it.

“Mr Park, I have some things to discuss with you about the draft.”

Sitting before your ex lover, now a renowned author that you're working with was a foreign and incomprehensible concept.

Agreeing to meet up at a cafe was probably a good choice. The awkward silence between you and him was masked by the loud conversations in the vicinity. He took a particularly long, loud sip from his cup, earning a furtive glance over the laptop from you.

“Mr Park, I think there are some … issues about the plot,” you slid your laptop over to him, making sure he's reading every highlighted sentence along with your careful annotations and remarks.

Other than the obvious fact that he was basing the story off of his life with you as a focus, there were actual plot developments that you needed to address with him. One of them was a major plot hole where the main character, Lee Eunhyeok, disappeared out of the blue, thus introducing a new character as a second male lead for a certain time being. How cliche.

Sunghoon pushed your laptop back over to you, an impassive look on his face that you couldn't read, unable to determine what he was thinking or even feeling about your opinions on his story. Sure, you wanted to write out every curse word you knew and pour your heart out the moment you finished analyzing the story, but for the sake of keeping your job and staying professional, you would rather not do so.

You took his silence as an initiative for you to continue, scared of any possible outburst, though you knew it was unlikely with Sunghoon's personality. Despite the fierce look he had on all the time, he has a gentle heart that would never change.

“Mr Park, I think you shouldn't—I mean—reconsider making some adjustments to the part where Eunhyeok leaves Saeon's life and a new lead appears. It's quite a massive plot hole that might be deemed unfavourable,” you were trying your best to remain as courteous as you could. Frankly, the thought of the main character disappearing and making his appearance years later was hitting too close to home. But why should you be surprised at this point onwards? Sunghoon was the one who took inspiration from the pain he caused, not even bothering to add some closure for the characters that neither you nor him got.

Fingers drumming softly on the wooden table, Sunghoon seemed to be collecting his every thought as he stared at you for a split second then averted his gaze to a potted plant that sat at a corner. A sigh escaped his lips. "You're right, Miss … L/N," there was a hint of reluctance when he spoke of your name with formality, as if it somehow pained him to act unfamiliar with you even though he was the first to push you away. “I'll make some adjustments and send them to you over the weekend,”

You nodded slowly, not expecting him to have gone with your idea that easily. Job's done for the day, you thought. You had pictured him to be a little more resistant towards your constructive criticism or at least fight back with an argument, but he didn't do either of those you envisioned.

“Thank you for your time today, Mr Park. I'll take my leave now, and I'll see you at the next meeting.”

The sharp scrap of your chair against the floor filled the silence that followed. You had your laptop packed up, your bag held tightly in your hands, prepared to leave at once to escape whatever this awkward and suffocating situation. You were already standing, ready to take your leave when Sunghoon said your name, the ring of it sounding just like the last you've remembered in the past. Soft, careful.

“Y/N,” he started, following suit to stand as well, seemingly much more intimidating compared to him sitting. You held your breath, not daring to let out a single word that might interrupt what he was about to say. As much as you hated to admit it, you still held onto a ridiculous amount of hope that some miracle would happen to you and Sunghoon, especially at times like this where Sunghoon reminded you of the person you once knew.

“H–how have you been?”

You blinked. Once, then twice. It was something out of a scenario you've imagined one two many times. How have you been? Are you doing well? Those sort of questions were what you armed yourself to face if you happen to run into Sunghoon with the condition that he somehow had the decency to talk to you. Well, this was playing out exactly how you wished for it to be. Answers such as 'I'm doing good, great, fantastic actually. I'm the chief editor too' that you prepared for this day only ended up dying in your throat.

How were you to answer his question either? It was simply agitating to see him acting as if nothing had happened. Pretending like he hadn't ruined your life before this then coming back to play the role of an old friend, what was he truly hiding? You wished you could understand, you wished you had a reason to understand.

“I'll be done with the next round of editing before our team meeting.”

There was nothing left to hide the coldness in your voice and the sadness that flowed in your irises. Just as he had done before, it was your chance to draw the line as well. The more you created a distance between you and him, the closer he was trying to get to you.

Maybe everything would've hurt less if you went back to the days where you were stuck wondering whether Sunghoon remembered you rather than pretending like you don't know each other at all.

“You're seriously going to stay here to complete your editing?”

The clock had struck five o'clock on the dot, just in time for everyone to pack up and leave for the day, except for you. It was a new week, another day in the office, yet you couldn't stop thinking about the last private meeting you had with Sunghoon at the cafe. Him sending his newly edited draft to you over the weekend only spurred you into further madness as though he's announced his existence was not a figment of your imagination. He was a thorn stuck to your side, annoyingly and frustratingly stubborn.

That perfectly explained why you were feeling a massive block when it came to editing his story. Nothing could go through your mind when you read through his freshly edited story that contained new content and back stories. Your brain was as blank as a sheet of paper. The moment you thought of his story, you'd think of him, and that pathetic 'how are you' which you brushed off.

Who told you that it'd be a great idea to say you would be done with the editing before the meeting in two days? You were suffering the consequences of your own actions now that you were stuck with a non-proofread script.

Bidding farewells to your colleagues was almost as if you were bidding your freedom goodbye as you watched them leave one by one until nobody else was there except for you. The worst part of all was that you were the one willing to stay back, because you knew if you brought your work back home, nothing would be completed after a long day at work.

The sun outside of the window eventually set, the dark hues of pink and purple faded into a bleary black sky with stars accompanying your lonely figure. It should be dinner time for you, you should be thinking of what you eat, but fatigue was the only thing pricking you and enticing you to sleep.

So, that was exactly what you did. Head laid in your arms, you slept before your laptop that was wide open, not even bothering to shut it off even though the brightness was bothering you. A power nap, that was it, a ten minute recharge that would spring you back into action then you'd only think of dinner, right!

Wrong.

You've slept for an hour. It was past eight, close to nine, and the sole reason you got to know was because someone had woken you up. That 'someone' happened to be Park Sunghoon. At times like this, you couldn't but think if he was simply a part of your dream, but then his feathery touch was too much for it to be just a dream.

“Y/N?”

It took some effort for Sunghoon to shake you awake until he heard a groan from you, one eye opening just the slightest to realise where you were and who you were facing. Though groggy, your back straightened out of pure shock and impulse,

“Sunghoon—I mean, Mr Park?”

The small falter in his expression went unnoticed by you in your haggard state, still unable to get the sleepy state out of your system. Sunghoon, however, felt a pang of disappointment at you maintaining your formality, though he chose to shake it off.

“What time is it?”

“It's close to nine,”

Nine? Your eyes nearly popped out of their sockets at the thought of your power nap turning into a full blown nap time that turned another day into unproductiveness. A sigh left your lips, deciding to let go of your mistake, and your focus was now on Sunghoon, who you just realised was squatting in front of you. At this angle, you could finally see his face fully. The mole of his nose sat prominently as it always did, the faded freckles which decorated the expanse of his cheeks were a telling of how time slipped past both of you.

“Drink some water,” he handed you a bottle of mineral water, making an attempt for you to stop your gaze intensely lingering on his skin that made him crawl in discomfort. You carefully accepted without any questions asked, taking a big gulp.

“What are you doing here?” You set the bottle down on your desk, piercing eyes following his every move as he stood up to his full height. You didn't mean to cut straight to the point, but your bluntness definitely caused a slight rise of awkward tension.

“I texted you and you didn't answer, so I called you, but you didn't pick up either. I asked your colleague and she told me you're here,” his hand reached for his shoulder and rubbed it softly, an unconscious habit of his whenever he got embarrassed or uncomfortable.

“You called?”

His eyes widened a little, just a fraction that you didn't seem to have seen. There was an abashed smile to his face. “I—uh—wanted to ask you something,”

“Is it urgent?” You shifted in your seat, back aching from the sleeping position, but it didn't bug you as much as the reason behind Sunghoon's sudden appearance.

“No, not exactly …” he muttered, trailing off for a bit and pressing his lips into a thin line as he figured what to say after. “I just wanted to see you,”

The silence was practically deafening. What Sunghoon failed to realise was the weight of his words that befall onto you. As simple as a slip of a tongue that confession might be, in the context of the history you had with Sunghoon, nothing about what he said was simple or casual.

“Have you eaten dinner?” Taking advantage of your lack of response, he managed to switch the topic even if it pained him to see his words rebounding off of the walls you built around yourself.

“I haven't,” admittedly, you had the urge to run away like how you always did whenever you were met with an awkward situation, but given the effort Sunghoon was putting, you gave him a chance. Besides, your stomach was about to betray you for the hunger you've put it through.

“Me too,” a beat passed, his hand that once rested on his shoulder travelled to the back of his neck, the sound of your breathing was loud enough to fill the quietness lingering in the air. “Do you … want to grab dinner together? I can pay,”

There was an edge to his voice, as if he was trying his best to persuade you into joining him for dinner. Was it desperation that you saw flickering in his eyes or were you just mistaken? You didn't understand why he was bothering to get close to you after years of being apart that he caused to happen in the first place.

“You don't have to be so nice to me,” it was quietly uttered, another unconscious barrier you put up against him.

Sunghoon averted his gaze away from you, looking out of the window and letting out a small sigh. He turned back to you, a hint of hurt present in those once shining eyes of his. “But I want to.”

There you were, sitting opposite him once again in a restaurant close to your office which you frequented, waiting for your food to arrive as another round of spine crawling silence sets in between you and him. Should you be the first to speak? You couldn't figure out what to say, or where you should even start. The many unexplained questions that lulled in the air contributed to the quietness. Neither of you were willing to budge, not one bit.

Sunghoon let out a rather strained cough, then proceeded to take a big gulp out of his glass of water. You regretted not ordering any drinks, you needed something to gulp down for some faux confidence as well.

“I just wanted to ask you how your progress is doing,” Sunghoon spoke out of the blue, breaking the icy silence that formed. “That's why I texted you in the first place. I added quite a lot,”

The feeling of your heart dropping to the pits of your abdomen shouldn't be bothering you, but it unfortunately did after Sunghoon revealed the reason for his visit. You were to blame for expecting something more from him, thinking he might've come to tell you a more important thing that wasn't related to work. Alas, you were disappointed to know he wasn't there to explain himself. You should expect less from him.

“Oh,” you bit back a frown, remaining tight lipped. “Quite frankly, I haven't really started yet. I'm having a little editor's block,” you bowed your head, smiling apologetically.

“Don’t be sorry, I understand. I experience writer’s block too, it’s only natural to be stuck sometimes,” he waved his hands frantically, a panicked expression plastered on his face. The small details as such made your smile progressively sadder, every little thing about him was the same as it was before, reminding you of his specific habits and motions he’d do at different times. “It’s not the content that’s the problem, right?”

Everything about the content of his story was a problem to you. How he managed to feign ignorance about the inspiration of his story despite being the creator behind it was astounding to you. You hated it. You hated pretending everything was normal, that he was just someone you’re working with and not your first love. In the end, you remained as a coward that was scared to confront him anyway.

“I haven’t fully reviewed it yet,” you said dismissively, hoping your food would arrive sooner just so that you could stop this conversation from progressing.

Sunghoon hummed in acknowledgement, nodding a little. “What do you think about the story so far? Or about the characters?”

If you could let out a scoff at that moment, you would’ve. The sheer audacity of him to play games with you was an indirect slap to your face. There was no way he had zero idea of what he was doing or the meaning behind his words. What was Park Sunghoon doing?

“I think Eunhyeok is an asshole,” your eye contact never once wavered, neither were you backing down from the fight he initiated from the start. “He abandoned Saeon when she needed him most, then disappeared without a trace just to come back and expect her to accept him back. It’s quite confusing, really, his character and the way he thinks,” you swallowed, pausing for a second to gather yourself. “I just wish I could understand him,” you put on a small smile in an attempt to diffuse the tension right after seeing Sunghoon's furrowed eyebrows. Surely you didn't touch a nerve … right?

“I agree,” you tried to mask your shock from his response, thinking he would've attempted to redirect the conversation away from the fact that you indirectly called him an asshole. The smile he had on his face was small, but it had a twinge of guilt and sadness to it. “Saeon went through a lot because of him,”

You were glad your hands were out of sight from Sunghoon with the way they were clenched into tight fists, turning nearly white, indents of your fingernails were probably formed on your palm. “I'm sure what she needed most is an explanation from him,”

“Do you think she hated him at some point?”

There was a suspenseful pause that gripped onto your skin, finding yourself unable to open your mouth to say something, literally anything. He had struck bullseye at landing on your weakest point: the unspoken grudge you held against him for leaving.

“I think she has always hated him ever since he left without saying anything.”

If there was a hole that would swallow you whole during dinner and teleport you back home, you would've climbed into it as quickly as you could. The atmosphere surrounding you and Sunghoon throughout dinner could only be described in one word: unfortunate. Stemming from the unresolved tension created from the short conversation you had while waiting for your food, neither of you wanted to talk anymore, both of you were still soaking in the responses from all the questions asked.

“Thanks for the dinner. I can pay you back—”

“There's no need, Miss L/N. I was the one who invited you out for dinner anyway,” he shook his head, smiling. “Treat it as a token of gratitude from me for your hard work,”

“Well then, thank you. I appreciate it,” for the first time ever since his return, you smiled with full genuinity instead of those awkward, half sincere smiles you put on out of courtesy.

Sunghook waved his hands, shaking his head a little. It was a common thing for him to do as a response to people thanking him. Another part of him that stayed the same. “How are you heading home?”

“I drove to the office today, and my car's just around the corner. I can walk back,”

“In the dark? I'll drive you back to the office,” his words had a finality to it, determined to not take ‘no’ as an answer.

“You don't have to. You've already paid for dinner,”

“And put your life at risk? I'm not doing that, especially not to you, Y/N,”

You didn’t know what came over you when he uttered your name with some ounces of emotions you never knew he would still harbour for you. Longing, desperation and guilt, a total mix of tragic feelings that bled through his voice and piercing into your heart. He had no rights for showing you his weakest parts after all the things you’ve been through because of him.

“Fine. I’ll come along.”

The car ride lasted no more than ten minutes, yet that short duration you spent in his car felt longer thanks to the uncomfortable atmosphere that never went away. Years ago, you’d never once thought Sunghoon’s presence as bothersome, not even the slightest, it never occurred to you that one day you’d find yourself wanting to implode instead of spending another passing second next to him.

The line drawn between you and Sunghoon for the sake of professionalism was turning into a blur. Sunghoon was doing his best to salvage whatever that was left of your ruined relationship while you put everything in maintaining a tall wall between you and him. His efforts, to you, were in vain despite his determination. No matter how he tried, nothing could return to how it was back then.

You and Sunghoon couldn’t be friends.

“Thanks for the ride,” you unbuckle your seatbelt once the car comes to a stop, turning to look at Sunghoon with an appreciative smile. “And also for dinner,”

“Like I said, it’s nothing. I hope you’re not overworking yourself,” there it was, the shred of worry and care that overstepped a boundary you set. It would’ve hurt less if he was cold to you, and yet, he was still the same as ever, soft hearted and always looking out for others. For once, just this one, you wished he gave you a reason to hate him, but he was only making it difficult for you. “I’ll see you at the next team meeting,”

“Right. I’ll make sure I’ll have some progress in the editing,”

Sunghoon nodded, another round of silence filled the spaces around you and him. You took it as your queue to leave. “I’ll get going now then. Drive safe. Goodnight,” you reached for the handle, hoping to get a breath of fresh air and away from the stifling tension that has yet to be resolved, but a hand stopped you. It was Sunghoon.

You looked down at his hand that rested on your shoulder, then you met his eyes that widened in both shock and panic. He retracted his hand away, averting his gaze for a moment from pure awkwardness and letting out a cough to diffuse the situation.

“Is there … anything?” You stared back at him, curiosity filled your expecting gaze. Sunghoon didn't respond at once, choosing to stay quiet for a few seconds without taking his eyes off of you.

“I … I just wanted to say I’m sorry,”

“What?”

Sunghoon's jaw was tense, his grip on the steering wheel was tightening as each second passed, knuckles gradually turning white. He knew he couldn’t turn back on his word now that he’s said it. “I'm sorry for the pain that I've caused, for letting you go so easily and giving up. It's just … there’s a reason behind all this,”

You should've ran out of the car right before he had the chance to stop you.

A part of you had high hopes for where this was heading, that you were finally getting the apology and explanation that you deserved, but the other part has long given up on wanting or needing to know. You find yourself struggling between the two, yet you knew what you had to do.

“You don't get to do this right now,” you murmured, barely audible enough for him to catch and almost as if you were saying it to yourself.

“What?”

“I don't need your apology,” you found some courage at last, your tone combined with the straightforward response was harsh and absolutely throat-cutting for Sunghoon to hear. Unbeknownst to him, your heart was breaking despite being the one to say the cruel truth. “Let's just maintain this professional relationship while your book is still in progress,”

“Y/N, please—”

“You know we can’t be friends,”

You should be used to the amount of uncomfortable and suffocating silence by then, but nothing could prepare the sting you got from your own words. It was painfully true, the fact that your connections with him couldn’t just be “casual” or platonic, neither was it easy to shift from something deeper to something more casual or distant. You couldn’t see him as a friend, not after having history together, one that was too deep to disregard.

Sunghoon couldn't even get the rest of his sentence out, mouth closing to digest what you had just thrown into his face: a reality ever so cruel and blunt where the pain of being together overwhelmed the pain you experienced while apart.

“But I'd like to just pretend … that maybe we can—that we have a chance,”

“What chance is there now when you never once gave me a chance from the start?” You brushed a hand through your hair in frustration, mentally chanting positive affirmations to yourself so that you wouldn't be the first to break. “Look, I–I think we should talk about this some other time, maybe after we're done with your book. You should sort your thoughts out first. For now, let's just be professional,” you paused, gouging his reaction that was hard to decipher. “I'll get going.”

Sunghoon didn't respond, mainly because he couldn't bring himself to, feeling as if his lips were sewn shut from either embarrassment or a mix of guilt and shame. He merely nodded, and you took it as a sign to leave, closing the door shut in his face as you slipped through his fingers once more.

He could cling to his papers and pen, writing as many stories as he could with the perfect ending that he couldn't recreate in his reality, but in the end, it wouldn't bring him back to the time where you were by his side.

We can't be friends. Sunghoon just had to accept the fact that he was at fault for letting you go even if you didn't know the actual truth behind it.

Things weren't the same as it was before.

Hell, it never once was the same between you and Sunghoon in the present ever since he came back, but the entire interaction that night only turned the dynamic into something worse. Throughout the entire team meeting with Sunghoon in the room, you couldn't fix your attention on anything. Your mind would often drift to Sunghoon and the memory of his desperation or the part he almost revealed the truth constantly plagued you with the reminder sitting at the other end of the room.

Right, the truth. He wanted to tell you about it, or it was implied that he wanted to. You were close to finding out the reason behind his erasure from your life. Alas, it was your ego that won over your heart, choosing to let Sunghoon bathe in the consequences of his actions first before you could reach your desires.

“How was work? You look extra dishevelled these days,” Minjeong, your roommate and life-long best friend since high school, brushed a finger through your hair, then took a seat next to you.

“Thanks,” you mumbled at the last part she added, suddenly craving for a beer to drown away your sorrows. “It's just some work stress,”

“Didn't you mention you were editing Sunghoon's book?”

“I did,”

“How's it going? Sunghoon, that's what I mean,” Minjeong was picking her words carefully, you could tell. She was the only person to have seen you at your lowest point when Sunghoon left, being the witness of you and Sunghoon's relationship throughout high school and even coming to your defence by dialing his number the entire night that he left. The least you could do was be honest to her about how you felt when it came to Sunghoon.

“It's … rough,” you exhaled sharply through your nose, letting your true exhaustion bleed through your voice. “His new story's about me … about us, actually,”

“No way!”

“That's why I'm going insane,” you groaned, throwing your head back to lay your head on the headrest of the couch. “I'm reliving our every moment together through editing his story,”

“That's evil,” she shook her head, placing a hand on yours in an attempt to provide some comfort. “I'm going to beat him up if I see him. How could he do that to you? And also for leaving without telling any of us,”

“He tried to explain himself the other night, he apologised too,”

Minjeong scooted closer to you, eager to dig out more information from you. “Then? What did you say?” She pressed on, staring closely with full expectations.

“Nothing. I didn't really accept his apology and I told him I'll hear him out another time,”

“What?” She shrieked, body fully jerking backwards from the shock that coursed through her. Somehow, she managed to regain her composure. “You know what? Good on you. I would've done that too,”

“Would you?”

Several changes of expressions flashed across her face, ranging from deep consideration to disgust. “Maybe?”

You chuckled, shaking your head knowing there was little to none truth value to that. “Is it a mistake? Drawing a line and keeping a distance?”

Minjeong pursed her lips thoughtfully, crossing her arms. “Honestly, you're entitled to do that until you're ready and your heart is fully healed. After all, he was the one who broke it in the first place.”

The whole entire situation was pathetic. Minjeong has already seen you losing it over Sunghoon in the past, you couldn't believe she would be getting a part two as well. However, you and her were no longer in your teen years, which meant Minjeong had an excuse to drag you to her favourite club as a getaway even if it meant you had to be stuck in hell.

“How is this going to make me feel better?” You were referring to the bodies of people dancing in one place, the stench of alcohol and smoke lingering in the air, the unfavourable vibe of being in a club itself was present with the loud music screaming into your eardrums.

“Get drunk, then there's no need to think anymore,” Minjeong pointed to her head, giggling, but it was more to herself.

“You're a really bad influence,” you mumbled, clutching onto her forearm for both physical and mental support.

The place she led you off to was the bar, ushering for you to take a seat next to her designated spot (you had no idea how and why she had one). You let her take the initiative by ordering her favourite drinks, then listened as she poured her heart out over the loud music that distracted you. Her plan was working. At least the music was too loud for you to hear your own thoughts.

“I didn't think this would be your favourite club,”

Minjeong made a face, shrugging. “It's one of my favourites. A colleague brought me here, and even though it's not the best, I still find myself coming back. It's weird,”

You hummed, finding her words ringing in your mind, feeling oddly close to your heart and the emotions you had. “That's lowkey really deep. Are you drunk already?”

“Ha-ha,” she let out dryly, completely unamused, but still cracked a smile after. “I wish I was. This is a call for some more drinks!”

You were mostly on the sidelines trying to control Minjeong with her alcohol intake, consuming only a few shots and calling it a night to be the designated sober one. At that point, you wondered if it was you or Minjeong that needed to destress the most judging from the difference in manner.

The time has come for you to end your night and find Minjeong to take her home before she ends up regretting it in the morning. The dance floor was packed with people, it took you barely a minute to give up your search and give yourself another five minutes to catch your breath. You lingered around the area, walking past booths occupied by groups of people.

There was a particular group that attracted your attention, a voice piercing through the loud music which you knew too well who it belonged to. Minjeong wasn't on the dance floor grooving her worries away, instead she was busy screaming at someone drunkenly. You were going to ban her from coming out ever again.

You rushed to the booth, seeing Minjeong's back while a man loomed over her figure. Was it her ex? There was no reason for Minjeong to get herself into fights when she was too cowardly to raise her voice up at someone in the first place. It didn't matter, all you needed was to pull her out of there or else something worse might happen.

“You fucking bastard—”

“Minjeong!” You yelled over the music, hoping that she somehow managed to hear you in her drunken state. Grasping onto her arm, you made sure she was intact physically. She was fine, eyes a little bloodshot and makeup slightly smudged, but other than that, she was fine.

“I'm sorry—” you turned to the person she was yelling at, only to find yourself unable to continue speaking. You were not fine. “Sunghoon?” Minjeong hadn't seen her ex, it was your ex that she ran into.

“Y/N,” your name left his lips in a hushed, breathless manner, as if he was having a hard time comprehending that you were there and that you had actually said his name without some formality that he scorned. Despite that, the cold, piercing look in your eyes never wavered once while you stared at him.

“I'm sorry about Minjeong. She's a little drunk,” you wrapped a hand around her waist, letting her lean onto you for support as she slipped in and out of consciousness, blabbering incoherently.

“I figured. I didn't expect this to be my first time meeting her again, especially not here,” he sighed, dropping his gaze to the floor for a moment, pondering. “I didn't think you'd feel … that way about me,” he looked up at you, this time with an expression you couldn't read.

Your eyes widened a bit, mostly in panic and confusion. “What? What did she say? She's drunk, don't take her words seriously—” you averted your gaze over his shoulders for a split second, catching some of his friends looking, but you didn't miss the girls that were in the group, particularly a girl that sat next to an empty spot you assumed to be Sunghoon's. She was the same girl you saw on one of his friend's posts online, posing next to Sunghoon in almost every group picture they had.

You sucked in a sharp breath, rushing to say something before Sunghoon had the chance to do so. There was a gutting feeling to you that you hated, it wasn't foreign, more or less something you've grown to adapt around Sunghoon after he came back into your life. “I'm sorry, I didn't mean to ruin your—” you couldn't help but spare another glance behind him, the girl was staring right at you, “—fun. I'll be leaving, please don't take any of her words seriously, she's drunk. I'll tell Minjeong to apologise in the morning.”

“Y/N, wait—”

It was cruel for turning away and practically running into the crowd with your drunk friend to escape your ex, you'd admit it, but you'd rather get blackout drunk than to face Sunghoon for another second with his friends around. The chilly night air was welcomed into your lungs once you stepped out into the open, realising it was almost one in the morning. Minjeong was slightly more sober after you forcefully had her chug a bottle of water. She was seated on a curb while you looked through options to call a cab.

“Y/N,”

What you expected was Minjeong calling for you, but the last you recalled, her voice wasn't deep and masculine. Your head snapped towards the source only to be met with the same person you were trying your hardest to get away from. The exhaustion was clear in his face, the worn out expression he had paired with the lingering smell of alcohol hung on him definitely got some pity points out of you. You sighed, your voice suddenly trapped in your throat as you didn't know what to say. Unlike you, it seemed Sunghoon did know what he would like to say.

“Are you really going to leave like this?”

“What?”

“Are you going to continue being cold to me?” Sunghoon's breath was shaky, the question he held in for far too long was actually leaving his lips, the slight smell of alcohol traceable. “Do you hate me?”

“I—” lost for words was what you were experiencing. The amount of times you've pictured yourself having a confrontational conversation with Sunghoon ended up turning into a waste. Nothing could've possibly prepared you for the moment where it actually happened, and you were the complete opposite to what you imagined yourself to be. “I–I don't hate you,”

“Then why are you treating me like you do?”

There it was. He had successfully touched a nerve. “Are you seriously asking me that? Sunghoon, you were the one who left me without saying anything. You came back thinking I'm going to be jumping when I see you? What do you want me to say? That I forgive you?”

“Can you please give me a chance to explain myself,”

“No, Sunghoon. Actually, I wish life was back to the times where I find myself thinking about you instead of having to face you. It’s much harder this way—to live pretending like we don’t know each other, to know you left me and embarrassed me, to make me feel like I’m not enough for you. So, no, Sunghoon, I want to move on and you’re only making it harder to,”

You were almost catching your breath at that point. The pain in your heart was much bigger than the feeling of your fingernails digging into the skin of your palm. It was impossible to hide your vulnerability by then, your upper lip was quivering and the hairs on the back of your neck were standing upright.

The whole situation was laughable, you were going into a state of frenzied disbelief and shock, something not even alcohol could induce but purely from the audacity of Park Sunghoon. “Okay, I admit it, I never got over you, so what? But I've learnt to live with the pain of knowing you're never coming back,” you were turning into a pile of pitiness, your voice becoming smaller just as how you felt as you poured your heart out. “Why are you back in my life, Sunghoon? I never asked you to come back,” the last part nearly came out as a desperate sob, the amount of mental fatigue was overwhelming.

Sunghoon opened his mouth just to close it after a beat. He was speechless, practically unmoving from the effects of your emotions slapping him in his face. Defeated, that was how he looked, shoulders slumped and eyes brimmed with tears that were threatening to flow out at any moment. “I never … I never meant to let you go in the first place. I should've never left, but I was too selfish,”

Your frown deepened, practically etching fine lines into your skin. “What? What do you mean?”

“It was my father, you knew how he was, always obsessed with the family business, he was the one who made me pick. Either I was going abroad or he was going to force me into a marriage with another woman to strengthen the family's business,” he let out a laugh, sounding nearly maniacally as he ran a hand through his dishevelled hair. “Funny, isn't it? Sounds almost like a plot from a movie. But that was exactly what I had to face, and I know it's selfish. It's just … I didn’t want to lose you completely, and I didn’t want to make it harder for you so I left without telling you. It was one of the worst decisions I’ve made in my life, I realised I still lost you in the end,”

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Feeling betrayed was an understatement. Certainly, that was a tough pill to swallow. You thought Sunghoon's father, despite being the cliche epitome of a rich, strict businessman, had accepted you as Sunghoon's partner. Instead, it was the contrary where he rather Sunghoon marry someone on his ‘level’. For a second, you mistook yourself for the main character in some low budget film.

“I thought it would be easier if you hated me instead,”

“Well, congrats, you got what you wanted,” you scoffed, taking a step back when he tried to get closer. Distance was what you needed in that moment, not closure in any shape or form, all you wanted was to be away from him. “I'm sorry that happened to you, but I don't think anything could change or fix the damage that's already been done,”

“Wait—”

You were already backing away from him, another excuse for you to run away yet again like a coward that didn't wish to face reality. Wasn't this what you wanted after all? The real truth being revealed on a random night where Sunghoon was slightly buzzed and your friend was on the verge of blacking out was the last you wanted. There was no space for you to absorb the truth, so you chose the easier way out by running away.

Calling Minjeong's boyfriend, Jaehyun, was the best decision you made right before Sunghoon appeared. He seemed to have answered your prayers and arrived just in time to pick the two of you up. You did feel bad for calling him this late in the night, and you swore to buy him lunch as a way to pay him back.

By the time you hoisted Minjeong up, wrapping a hand around her waist and letting her place her support on you, Sunghoon had already made a few cautious steps towards you two. You met his eyes, body facing him despite the weight that was about to crush you, not that it could compare to the weight of his gaze that fell onto you.

“Sunghoon, let's talk about this another time, please? I need time to think, and editing your book isn't helping all that much with this whole … pile of something,” you were making wild gestures with one hand, a frenzied look to your face. “Go back to your—” you paused, the faint memory of the girl coming back to your mind for a beat, “—friends.”

Sunghoon couldn't respond, all he did was watch your figure disappearing into the car of some other man that he didn't know. You left him out in the street, many unspoken frustrations that were unable to be poured out through alcohol stuck with you like a sore thorn. Jaehyun turned to ask if you're alright, but you shrugged it off, though knowing you were the complete opposite of just 'fine'.

You didn't know how to forgive Sunghoon. That is if you could even find the courage to forgive him in the first place.

Whoever initiated a team dinner with Sunghoon should be out there watching their backs.

You hadn't seen Sunghoon ever since that night. The last time you heard his name was when Minjeong told you about her lengthy apology to him, and that was it. He didn't turn up to the publishing house either, most times you had to communicate through email—yes, email—in order to get a hold of him. That was how bad it got, straight till the point where your boss asked you of his whereabouts. You could tell he was reluctant to show his face again. Just the same as you were in avoiding him.

That was until a scheduled team dinner at some fancy restaurant to celebrate the progress of Sunghoon's soon published book. The hours leading up to it was dreadful to say the least. You hadn’t felt this way since your petty fight with Minjeong over the last slice of pizza. It was the horrible gut feeling where you knew you had to either confront or be confronted. Both of which were equally despised.

“Once this book is out, our workload will be less,” Yunjin stretched her arms, letting out a yawn while adjusting in her seat. “I’m glad everything is in its final stage now, all there’s left is the printing, and it isn’t our job!” she laughed gleefully, shooting you a knowing wink that you responded with a smile.

Once everything was over with Sunghoon’s book, would the ties between you and him finally become severed? Was there a chance that after this fateful reunion, things would return back to normal? For him to come into your life and mess things up again then leave was quite unfair for you. There was no other chance but to find a way out of this, as much as you hated confrontations.

Speaking of confrontations, the seating arrangements seemed to have set you up for a perfect opportunity. Not only was it a roundtable, but Sunghoon was also somehow pushed to sit to your right, leaving you no space to run like how you always did.

“Heard the food here is good,” Yunjin whispered to you, flipping through the menu with a happy smirk, totally in blissful ignorance of the blaring ‘SOS’ screaming in your eyes. “I think I’d like to order this one…” she trailed off with the look of gluttony, whereas you were aimlessly staring at a specific bowl of rice in the menu, trying to not make it obvious that you were bothered by Sunghoon’s presence.

The longer you sat there pretending he wasn’t literally next to you, the more suffocated you felt. This wasn’t the way to go. You knew that you had no choice but to be the person to speak up first, to officially break the ice and ease the odd tension even if you weren’t the type to do so. It was either that or a lifelong torture of living with the truth that you left the relationship to die.

You breathed in deeply, pressing your lips into a thin line. “Hey, Sunghoon—”

“Sunghoon!” your boss announced her presence with a shout of Sunghoon’s name, barrelling into the room and making a bee-line towards the man sitting beside you. As expected, your voice was naturally drowned out by your boss, his attention was focused on your boss’s attack of praises and excitement. There you were, stranded and shrinking back into your shell.

That was what you got for trying.

You shouldn’t be bothered by the constant glances from Sunghoon all throughout dinner, but you were. Living up to your reputation of being stubborn, you persisted to ignore his advances. The glances, the occasional accidental skin contact, you feigned ignorance to all of them. Being the first to reach out and failing, you no longer dared to do it again, and instead, Sunghoon was forced to come crawling back.

At the end of the night, the team insisted on having drinks at a bar downtown, but you decided to call it a night and declined their invitations. They didn’t know you had already promised Minjeong to a session of binge watching ‘Sex and the City’. The front of the restaurant was crowded with you and your team, still stalling for time by having lengthy conversations before making the journey downtown.

“Hey,”

You spun around, quick enough for the wind to be knocked out from your lungs, abruptly facing Sunghoon head on with nowhere to hide. It was hard to place a finger on it, yet you had a feeling he was hiding his emotions despite always wearing his heart on his sleeves. Was he trying to create an imaginary boundary?

“Hey,” you said softly, slipping a hand into your pocket to hide your nervousness and easing the chills running through you. “How have you been? I … didn’t see you in a while,”

“I’ve been fine,” he nodded, following with a pulsating silence that was eating you alive. He kept his answer short and simple, leaving room for discomfort only. There was a moment of uncertainty, not knowing which one of you would be the first to speak. That was until Sunghoon took the initiative to start the conversation. “Look,” one sharp inhale of a breath, he steadied himself. “I’m sorry for the other night, really sorry … for dumping all of that on you,”

“It’s fine. I think it was time for me to learn the truth,” you shook your head, looking at anywhere but him. “This is probably not the best place to talk about this, but after you avoided me for a while, I had lots of thoughts about … us,”

Sunghoon winced at the harshly thrown word, ‘avoided’, even though it was mostly true. He stayed silent, aware that there was no rebuttal to deny that he had done that. “I can’t bring myself to forgive you completely, Sunghoon, I hope you understand that. It may take time … for the wound to heal,” you paused, the tension in his shoulder yet to disappear as he waited for you to continue. “But I don’t want us to end. I missed you, I really do, and I don’t want to lose you again,”

The wall was starting to crack, emotions began to stream into his eyes like watercolour on a wet paper, the conflicted furrow of his eyebrows spoke louder than words did. “You won’t lose me again. Never. I’m here to stay,” he reached out for your hands, and you let him, powerless against his touch. At that point of time, you were glad you were standing in a corner and away from your coworkers.

“I still love you,”

Those words came out of his mouth almost like a spear to your heart. Despite knowing deep in your heart that he always did, hearing it from him was different compared to your imaginations. You froze, shell shocked and wide eyed. The only sound you were hearing was the hammering of your heart against your ribs. He still loves you. His voice echoing those exact same words played in your head, and for a moment, you wondered if you had even heard him correctly. Maybe you had misunderstood, or perhaps your mind was playing tricks on you.

Your eyes searched his face, hoping for a sign that he was joking, but there was none. His expression was serious, vulnerable even, and that made it all the harder to breathe.

The weight of it pressed down on your chest, too much to bear, yet too real to ignore. Your mouth opened, but no words came out. You were scared to say anything, to confess that you weren’t on the same wavelength as he was, to admit that the spark of your love for him wasn’t as bright as his. There he was—still standing before you with all those unspoken feelings laid bare.

This couldn’t be real. Not after everything…

“I’m sorry,” he dropped your hand, momentarily panicking from your lack of response, eyes widening at what he had just said. “I shouldn’t—I—you’re probably uncomfortable—I don’t know—” he turned into a stuttering mess, and again, an invisible wall started to build between you and him again.

You shook yourself out of the state you were in, sheepishly mustering a smile that did nothing to salvage the situation at hand. “It’s alright, I’m totally fine and I’m not uncomfortable at all. Just a little … shocked,”

Sunghoon attempted a smile that ended up too stiff and asymmetrical, his body language was blaring red. Oh God, how did this turn from bad to worse? He ran a shaky hand through his hair, his voice quiet, almost to himself. “I didn’t mean to make you feel weird or anything... I just—” He stopped himself, breathing out in frustration, unsure of how to put his thoughts together. “I don’t know how to explain this... I guess I just thought... maybe... if I said it out loud, it wouldn’t be something I regret not saying later.”

He shifted uncomfortably on his feet, glancing down at the ground before looking back up at you, his face flushed with embarrassment. “I’m sorry if that was too much. I didn’t want to make you feel like... like you owe me anything. Or like I’m putting pressure on you.” His eyes flickered away for a moment, his voice dropping to a near whisper. “I just—honestly, I didn’t know how else to handle it.”

You swallowed, similarly not knowing how to handle his sudden outburst of a confession.

“You don't have to say anything, I understand. I'm not expecting you to reciprocate, all I want is for you to know,” Sunghoon wore a sad smile, an attempt to mask his actual feelings. To you, he was easy to read like an open book, it was hard to know the truth and pretend that you didn't.

“Sunghoon—” you started slowly, bracing yourself to say whatever that came to mind, ignoring the confused thoughts playing in the back. What were your actual feelings when it came to him anyway?

It was never truly hatred to begin with. Resentment was probably the most fitting. As time passed, with the interactions you had together, everything boiled down to be a confusing mess. You didn't know what Park Sunghoon meant to you anymore.

“Sunghoon! We’re leaving for the bar! Come on!”

The voice of your colleague calling for him interjected at the right time. You were saved from having to reply while Sunghoon was saved from knowing the truth. Either way, you didn't wish to be confrontational at all, not when your thoughts were in a mess from his sudden confession.

You and Sunghoon exchanged a brief look, an awkward one where you both realised it's time to depart. More likely, it was an official end to the conversation that either of you wanted out of for separate reasons.

“I—I think—” Sunghoon nodded over to your colleagues, offering half a smile.

“Right, right, you have to go,” you let out a small laugh to fill in the still air. “It's alright. Go, have fun. I'll talk to you soon.”

Sunghoon casted a rather reluctant glance at you as he walked away, whereas you stood rooted to the ground watching him leave. Your words rang in the back of your mind, you doubted if you'd ever get the chance to talk to him again, especially after the entire conversation you had.

The night ended up turning into a sleepless one as you tossed and turned in bed, wide awake and haunted by the face of your ex together with the words he said. All you wanted to do was address the problem in the room, not creating a larger one that blew up in your face. He still loved you after all this time, while you only grew larger resentment in that period of his absence, it just seemed unfair to you for not knowing.

A loud knock on your front door brought you away from your string of thoughts. It was then followed by your door bell ringing, alternating between the two and it became an annoying combination that assaulted your ears in the dead of the night. Groggy, and rather annoyed, you got out of bed to check who was bothering you through the peephole.

The figure on the other side of your door was slumped against the wall, eyes barely open. Yet, there wasn’t any mistake in recognising the person that terrorised you both day and night. “Sunghoon?” you half-shouted, scared to open the door as you didn’t dare to face him, maintaining your position at the peephole, monitoring his every movement. “Hey, are you okay—” your hand was nearly on your doorknob until he spoke, sounding sluggish but panicked.

“Don’t. Don’t open the door,” he was almost begging you, the desperation in his voice was evident, and so was the fact that he was very likely drunk out of his mind. You wondered what exactly was his thought process when it came to calling a cab straight to your place. The hand you had on the doorknob remained there, but you didn’t have the strength to turn it. “I … I just wanted to hear your voice,”

“What?”

There was a moment’s worth of silence. You took a look through the peephole, seeing Sunghoon slumped against your door, unmoving. You thought he was unconscious and had fallen asleep somehow, but when a choked sob sounded past his lips, you figured it wasn’t that simple. You called out his name again, palm pressed against your door, feeling rather helpless, but also too much of a coward to burst straight through your door and face him crying.

“I–I’m sorry, I’m a mess, fuck,” he mumbled, still audible for you to hear and distinguish the pain in his tone, as if every word he said to you was physically tormenting him. “I’m just scared,”

You paused, slightly dumbfounded. “Scared? Of what?”

“Of losing you,” he sounded as if he had given up on trying to hold the truth back, letting his vulnerability take over the lonesome hanging in the cold night air. “I tried so many times, to fix things, to make us … us again, but I think I’m just fucking things up instead,” his hands curled into a fist, resting on your door. “I know I’m selfish for wanting you back, I’m aware that I don’t deserve you … but I can’t let you go,”

You couldn’t let him go either. Despite the initial burning hatred and resentment you had for him and what he did, you realised those feelings gradually dissipated the longer you were with him. All those times where he poured his heart out, revealing the truth and what not, you came to a conclusion at last: you had finally let go of your past grudges. Although it was true that you weren’t as cold as you were to him, you still found yourself having a hard time opening up to him. The trust that was built over the years was broken the moment he left, as for now, time was what you needed.

“Please … please … Y/N,” Sunghoon let out a sob, louder than the last, the alcohol seeping into his system and taking charge. After all these years, Sunghoon remained an emotional drunk. Some things never change, do they? “I won’t ever leave, so please … don’t leave me too,”

A deep sigh left your lips unknowingly, your hand fell from the door knob, suddenly breathless and powerless against yourself. You’ve never seen Sunghoon in such a state, weak and pathetic in contrast to his composed self. The walls you tried so hard to maintain between you and him were crumbling in front of you, before you knew it, you had fallen into a deep hole that you couldn’t crawl out of. There was no turning back, not after you pulled your door open, facing a pair of blood-shot eyes.

Sunghoon didn’t expect you to actually open the door, to witness him in a dishevelled state that was embarrassing to the human eye. Even in his drunken mind, he could remember your every feature that seemed to have engraved itself into his memory. There was a round of silence, you were trying to gouge the situation standing before you while Sunghoon was stunned into quietness.

Thinking straight wasn’t your first option, instead you did something you would only dare to do if you were drunk. You reached out for Sunghoon’s arm, grabbing onto him and pulling him in with every ounce of your strength. He crashed softly onto you, and at a speed faster than he could process, you embraced him into your chest, wrapping your arms around his larger body.

You could feel him freezing into your embrace, the touch that was once so familiar to him needed some time to get used to. It didn’t take long before he melted into you, letting his head fall onto your shoulder and engulfing you closer to him with his arms. The position was oddly intimate, but you didn’t mind it at all. Your hearts were much closer than it had been in years, both physically and mentally. In fact, you hadn’t felt this way in a long time, a specific feeling that only Sunghoon could rekindle.

No words were exchanged, but you understood much more than before. Sunghoon’s arms tightened around you, scared that you were a figment of his imagination, that you were going to leave just as he had feared. Your hand reached for his head that rested on your shoulder, slowly and carefully making the initial move to stroke his hair.

“I’m not leaving, Sunghoon,” you whispered, hoping that he was sober enough to process your words and take it into account. “I’ll always be here,” you paused, blinking away a sudden wave of tears that threatened to fall out of nowhere. “Just … just don’t leave me, you jerk,”

He removed his head from the crook of your neck, pulling away ever so slightly, just enough to face you, barely minding the small gap between you and him. “I promise, I promise I won’t ever make the same mistakes. I’ll be by your side for as long as you need,”

His words, though shaky, settled in your chest like a comforting weight. For some reason, he managed to say the right things that caused the past to wither away gradually from your mind. But the reality of the moment hit harder than you expected. You weren't sure what would come next or if you could fully trust him again, but right now, in this fleeting moment, it didn't matter.

Neither of you dared to break eye contact, holding each other tightly, terrified to let go. All of a sudden, those past months where you acted cold to one another seemed to be much further than imagined, as if it never happened. You stared deeply into those saccharine eyes, searching for any sign of doubt, but all you saw was sincerity, mixed with exhaustion and regret. A part of you wanted to pull away, to keep your distance, but you didn’t. For once, you let yourself breathe, let yourself lean into this fragile connection, even if it was built on broken trust.

“I forgive you, Sunghoon,” you started off slowly, cautiously, picking your words one by one. “But, you’ve got a lot to prove, and I don’t know if I can forget everything right away,” you paused, feeling a tightness in your throat, “maybe we can start over. Maybe.”

Sunghoon’s eyes softened, the momentary glaze over his eyes were gone, a telling sign that he was somehow much sober than earlier on. A faint, genuine smile tugged at the corners of his lips. “I’ll prove it to you. Every day, if I have to.”

You nodded slowly, still unsure of everything but knowing one thing for certain: this was not the end. There was too much history, too much love, even in its broken state, for it to end here. You and him couldn’t be friends, not when there was something more than that existed between the two of you.

As cliche as it sounded, you knew fate had a play in hand. There was no denying that life led him back to you. Despite all odds, there you were, holding onto the warmth of his embrace, discarding the questions left to be answered after for a glint of hope. A fragile hope that, perhaps, things could still be fixed, even if they never fully returned to what they once were.

For now, you stayed in his arms, while he couldn’t bear to let you go, waiting for your love to return the way it used to be.

In the next month, with Sunghoon’s book being officially published, the office had turned increasingly busy managing the marketing, promotions, sales and much more. Each department was scrambling to settle the piling work, including the editors, who were thrown into the mix to help out the rest of the team. That meant you were equally busy too.

First, it was the book launching party.

Sunghoon seemed to have a loyal local fanbase, garnering a full house that sat patiently waiting for him. The cheers were indeed loud once he entered the room, his handsome face paired with great writing skills definitely was one way to be favoured by the crowd. He took a seat on the chair situated in the middle of the mini stage.

“I’m grateful that you’re all here to celebrate the launch of my new book. I believe it’s one of the few books I’ve published here since coming back from America,” he paused, eyes flickering, tongue darting out to wet his lips. “It’s also a book that I wrote based on my experiences here … ” in a room filled with strangers and staff, he managed to find you in the midst of them, eyes locked onto you and the silence somehow thickened.

He averted his attention back to the crowd, and cleared his throat, his voice was noticeably softer now, as if he was choosing his words carefully. “… I wrote this book with a lot of personal feelings, a lot of things that I’ve been holding onto, and some of those feelings, well…” He let out a quiet, almost imperceptible sigh before his eyes flickered back to you, the intensity unmistakable despite the crowd around you. “Some of those feelings are about a person who's meant a lot to me. One I might never be able to fully explain how much they’ve impacted me, and sometimes…” He hesitated, then smiled faintly, the kind of smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes, as if he was hiding something. “… sometimes you just hope they’re listening. Even if they don’t always know it.”

The room was still, the noise from the crowd seemingly muted. It felt like the world had narrowed to just the two of you, that the people in the vicinity had disappeared. His words hang in the air with unspoken weight. Sunghoon’s gaze softened slightly as he looked at you, the faintest twitch in his lips betraying the emotion in his tone.

“I guess, in the end,” he continued, lowering his voice just a little more, “it’s the things you can’t say out loud that end up being the most important to you.” He quickly shifted his focus back to the audience, his smile returning, but the brief crack in his composure lingered like a delicate thread between you both. “So, that is why I dedicate this book to my first love,”

The shock didn’t just pass through the crowd of readers, but also in the group of staff standing around you. You were lucky that nobody else noticed his tunnel vision that was trained on solely you. It didn’t need a second thought to know that he was referring to you. Just as you were his first love, he was also yours, it should be a no brainer that the book he wrote about the two of you was dedicated to you.

Sunghoon cracked a smile, breathing out a small laugh to ease the collective shock in the room. “I hope this book resonates with you, for those who experienced an unforgettable romance with your first love and stay up thinking about the endless possibilities. Pour your regrets, sadness and anguish into this book,”

His gaze wandered over the crowd, but you could tell he wasn’t really looking at anyone, he was making an effort not to stray his gaze to your figure. However, old habits are hard to die. His eyes, those familiar eyes, drifted back to you once again, the intensity of his stare never breaking, making the room feel even smaller, forcing you into an imaginary corner.

“Sometimes, the people who mean the most to you… are the ones who leave you with all the things you wish you could’ve said,” Sunghoon continued, his voice barely above a whisper now, but still reaching you as if the words were meant only for your ears. “But I think… I think that’s what keeps the memories alive. It’s not about the things you lost, but the things you never got to say.”

His hand hovered over the microphone for a second, fingers brushing it lightly, and for a brief moment, the faint tremor in his hand betrayed the calm composure he was trying to maintain. The air between you felt charged, an unspoken tension that made it hard to breathe.

“I guess we all have our regrets. But it's how we carry them, how we turn them into something meaningful, that makes all the difference,” he said with a slight shrug, a soft, almost sad smile tugged at the corners of his lips. His gaze lingered on you for just a heartbeat longer before he shifted his attention back to the audience. It was then you could breathe properly again.

The tension remained in the room, thick and unspoken, as the silence stretched just a bit too long before the next round of applause broke it. His speech was moving, sure, but to you, the meaning behind every word was deeper than what it seemed, following you around throughout the day like some pesky itch.

The event rolled by with questions answered, a short reading session and book signing. You and your team were tasked to run around setting things up, making sure everything was in place so that the event would run smoothly. Thankfully, it did, and your hard work had paid off. Being occupied for most of the time, you momentarily forgot about Sunghoon and what he said, unbeknownst to you, it was sitting in the back of your mind waiting for you.

At the end of the day, you and your colleagues were working hard to clean and put things away, loud laughs and noisy conversations filled the empty venue, replacing the crowd from hours ago. The atmosphere was only heightened when Sunghoon made his presence known, hands carrying multiple bags of take out coffee. “Thanks for the hard work! Here’s some coffee, my treat,” loud hollers followed suit in celebration of free drinks, he bowed to those around him, lending a helping hand to carry the boxes while the drinks were taken from his hands. “I’m having a small party tomorrow night to celebrate the release of the book, and I hope every one of you will be there too. Don’t worry, food and drinks are all prepared,”

The thought of another celebration had pleased your colleagues and brightened the entire mood despite the tiredness. Coffee was passed around just as the job was done. Instead of heading home immediately, everyone chose to stay for a little more to chat and finish their coffee. You, on the other hand, lingered in a corner to arrange the books in a box. In reality, you were mostly using it as an excuse to hide and think. Turns out, Sunghoon’s words never left your head once, and the intensity of his eyes had burned itself into your memory.

It was then you were startled by a tap on your shoulder, basically spinning around to see who it was. Speaking of the devil … Park Sunghoon stood right before you, a cup of coffee in one of his hands, the other retracted in a blink of an eye. Seeing him right after thinking about everything he had said felt like a whiplash, or quite close to a slap to your face.

“Coffee?” he extended the coffee cup towards you, wearing a wry smile.

You accepted his coffee, taking a quick sip to hide the embarrassment from showing on your expressions. “Thanks,” you replied, lowering the cup from your face, swallowing at the unexpected awkwardness that grew between the silence. One glance at him, you met his eyes, the silence suddenly became less uncomfortable, a smile tugged at the corner of your lips. “Hey,”

Sunghoon couldn’t help smiling, being much more transparent with you than yourself. He shook his head, amused. “Hey,”

“Good job today, Author Park Sunghoon,”

“You too, my dear editor,”

The softness in his voice and the genuine smile he had shouldn’t have tugged at your heart strings, but it did, no matter how much you tried to ignore it. The moment you decided to break down the walls and opened your heart to him was when you realised there was no turning back.

“I’m expecting you at my party tomorrow. No backing out,” he continued, pointing a finger sternly at you.

You let out a quiet laugh, mostly at his action, totally unaware of the fact that his eyes wavered for a second, his smile faltering at the realisation that you were laughing, and it was because of him, even if it was merely a giggle. “I’ll be there, don’t you worry,”

Sunghoon cleared his throat, coughing a little to bring himself back to reality. “I can’t wait,” he was casual when saying that, but to you, it only made you wonder what exactly he meant by that.

You bounced on the balls of your foot, hands crossed, waiting for the right time to speak your mind. It seemed the opening to that conversation was there for you. “So … that was a nice opening speech,”

Sunghoon’s eyes slowly turned wider at the realisation, recalling all the things he had said in his speech, wincing—more so cringing—that he had to be reminded of it. He was stalling, holding back and contemplating his next response. “I meant everything I said,” he inhaled sharply, searching your face for any message to decode. “This book … it’s more of a letter to you. The things I wished I said, they’re all in there,”

“I know,” you set the coffee down, your fingers lingering on the warmth of the cup, trying to steady yourself. “Of course I know, I read it all,” you heaved a breath, unable to tell if you were picking your words correctly. “You’ve got a funny way of asking for forgiveness,” you tried to smile, making an effort to lighten the tension.

Sunghoon’s gaze softened, responding with a weak smile, but the attempt was futile once you saw him looking away, suddenly avoiding your gaze. For a moment, you could see the vulnerability and hurt in his eyes. He was no longer the confident, composed man he tried to project during his speech. Instead, he was just… Sunghoon, your Sunghoon. The man who had once meant everything to you, now standing before you, laid bare in a way that you weren’t sure how to respond to.

“It was probably a shit attempt at it, wasn’t it? I couldn’t even face you properly until this book,”

“I mean, it did somehow work, didn’t it?”

Sunghoon’s eyes flickered up to meet yours, finding your response a complete 180 to what he had in mind, a flash of surprise crossing his features before he let out a small, self-deprecating chuckle. His shoulders seemed to relax.

“You think so?” he asked, his voice laced with both uncertainty and a hint of hope.

You nodded, a soft smile tugging at the corner of your lips. “Yeah, I do. To be honest, I was surprised that you wrote about us in the beginning—actually, I was pissed, to be precise—but the more I read, I could tell you were trying to find a way to fix us through the characters. I’m glad you actually did try, and it wasn’t just in writing. That means something to me,”

Sunghoon stared at you for a moment, as if processing your words. He seemed to be searching for something more—more validation, more understanding—but when his gaze softened, he looked away again, as though the vulnerability was too much for him to bear at the moment. There was an unspoken desire for something that you and him shared in that second, a mutual comprehension passed through the air, which was going back to the way it always has been, to stop the awkward, uncomfortable silence and return to the times you were carefree with one another.

“I never wanted to be the guy who hurt you,” he said, his voice low, close to whisper, more so a silent confession in disguise. “I never wanted to be the one to screw things up so badly that I’d lose you. But I did, didn’t I?”

“Yeah, you did,” your answer was blunt, piercing through the stillness. Sunghoon’s gaze snapped back to you, his expression unreadable for a beat before his lips parted, as if to say something in response. But he paused, swallowing the words. Instead, he let out a slow breath, his hand reaching up to rub the back of his neck. You studied him for a split second, carefully reaching out and placing a hand lightly on his arm, a small gesture of reassurance. “But I thought we’d agree on putting it in the past, to start afresh,”

Sunghoon’s eyes softened as your hand touched his arm, the familiarity of your touch brought a sense of assurance to him, easing the tension that had built between the two of you. “You’re right. What matters most is right now, and the future,” he placed his hand on yours, a gentle smile gracing his features. “I’m just happy,”

You raised your eyebrows in question, head tilted slightly at his random outburst. “About what?”

“That we’re … us again, even if it’s not fully,”

A breath of sigh escaped your lips, a faint smile rested on your face, eyes sparkling just the slightest under the bright lights. “Took us a while, but at least we're here,”

Sunghoon nodded, his fingers brushing against yours, the intensity of his gaze was unwavering. There was a lingering spark straying in the air between you and him, the entirety of this—him being so close to you, basically holding your hand—was far from casual. If anything, it was hard to ignore the sound of your heart beating hard in your chest, or that tingling sensation up your spine.

“H–hey, this coffee’s pretty good,” you slipped your hand away from his touch, turning your head to the other side so that he wouldn’t see you panicking. Heat crept up on the back of your neck, spreading to your cheeks, painting you a blushing mess. It was a curse to be too aware of what’s happening to you. “So, tomorrow’s party. What time does it start?”

“Seven,” Sunghoon replied simply, squinting his eyes at you, noticing your change in behaviour. He got closer to you, leaning in to scrutinise your face, unaware of the gap barely existing between you and him. “Are you okay—”

“Great! Fantastic, actually,” you breathed out, forcing out a laugh to cover the fact that you were far from just ‘okay’. “I’ll see you tomorrow, alright? I need to finish some stuff and head home. Great job today,”

“You don’t seem that great—” Sunghoon stood firmly with his deduction, only to be met with your dismissiveness. Unlike you, he was blissfully oblivious to the effect his insignificant actions had on you, and that it wasn’t just a friendly interaction between two ‘friends’.

“I’ll get going now, bye!” you held tightly onto your coffee, waving at him with a tight lipped smile.

“Bye?” That was the last thing you heard before slipping into a storage room, the confusion in his voice still ringing in your ears. You left a very dumbfounded Sunghoon stranded, all to find yourself breathless after the whole conversation that seemed to have sucked out every bit of your social energy.

The realisation has finally hit you and was slowly sinking in. This was the first time you felt your heart racing again after years, the type where you get giddy and nervous over a small interaction till the point it becomes hard to breathe. That was what Sunghoon did to you, your first love, your first heartbreak, and the first to mend your broken heart once more.

Just as quick as your hatred grew over the years, the feelings you had for him were equally fast in returning back, the same feeling that never once left, staying stubbornly rooted, waiting for you to discover it again.

You would admit, Sunghoon did pick a perfect place to have his private party. That wasn’t the point though. The focus was mainly on the restaurant being the favourite restaurant that you and Sunghoon would go to in your high school years. This time around, you had access to the bar unlike before, which seemed to be forever ago. That showed how long you’ve been avoiding places which reminded you of him, something you wouldn’t admit to.

The place was the same as you remembered, the dim lighting accompanied by jazz music playing in the background, the entire venue provided an ambiance that proved to be the reason why you loved it there in the first place. It was hard to deny that you were feeling nostalgic the moment you stepped in, bringing back many memories whether you liked it or not.

On the way to the private room, you walked past the spot that you and him claimed, a table by a large window. The memory of you dragging Sunghoon here every weekend, hogging the spot by the window, ordering a set meal to share came rushing into your mind. Mixed emotions bubbled in the depths of your heart, secretly longing for those great old days to return even if you knew it was impossible. However, it was possible to start something new now that you weren’t on bad terms with him, and that was how you remained hopeful.

You were brought back to reality once you realised you had stopped in your tracks, staring blankly at the empty table, reminiscing about your past like an idiot. Embarrassed, you rushed away and found the private room while cringing without a pause, finally feeling more relieved when you saw your friends and colleagues.

“Hey!” Yunjin wrapped an arm around your shoulder, pulling you into a low effort side hug to which you reciprocated. The mood in this room was similar to the outside. The same dim lighting complimented by a soft background music, trays of food already prepared, catered by the restaurant itself. There was a banner hung

“Look who’s here, our dear editor,” her attempt to hype you up was responded with cheers from the group, earning an exasperated eye roll from you. “Enjoy this party, okay? You’ve worked hard,”

You had indeed worked hard for this book. Having to put up with the realisation that it was written about you, then needing to deal with your ex in the whole process of it, you surely deserved a Pulitzer prize just for your efforts. You simply nodded at her words, knowing that nobody here would ever find out about the truth behind the story in Sunghoon’s book and the experience you went through because of it.

“I’m going to go grab a drink, excuse me,” you smiled politely at the rest of them, then carefully escaped from the circle of your colleagues and out of the door, releasing a breath of relief that you didn’t know you were holding in. Walking out into the open space of the restaurant, it was much busier and larger than you recalled it to be.

You settled yourself into a stool, glancing around and seeing most of the seats were occupied mainly in pairs. Were you the only one alone here? More reasons to be drinking. Being completely lost in thought and spacing out at the bartender making drinks for the customers prior to you, you didn’t notice a figure slipping into the seat next to you, sneaking a glance at you and proceeding to follow your line of sight.

“They’re a bit busy, aren’t they?”

You didn’t even flinch at the sudden intrusion, already knowing who it was without needing a second guess. Turning your body to face the person next to you, you stared at him with a deadpan expression, completely unfazed. “Hey,” Sunghoon greeted you softly, smiling sweetly at you, as if your presence had graced him, disregarding the pointed look you shot at him.

“I didn’t see you just now,”

Sunghoon pursed his lips, resting both his arms on the counter, leaning into it, shying away from your gaze for unknown reasons. “I was walking around here,”

“Leaving your own party?”

A snort came from him in response, the corners of his lips were pulled higher than a second ago. He was amused, shaking his head at you. “I came here to relive the same feeling I had years ago,” a second of silence passed, as if he was letting his words sink further into the open wound. “The same feeling I have whenever I’m with you,”

You couldn’t tell if your heart skipping a beat was a normal reaction or whether it should be one. However, one thing’s for sure, it wasn’t something that occurred to you on a daily basis. There was a hint of unspoken yearning buried deep in those pupils of his, the additional mention of the past only brought a shift in atmosphere around the two of you. “I walked past our table,”

You were unconsciously holding your breath in, waiting for his reaction, unknowingly looking forward to what he has to say. He didn’t respond immediately, seemingly deep in thought at that fleeting moment, an unreadable smile on his face. “So did I,” he shifted in his seat, adjusting to his comfort, his body was now facing towards you more. “It’s still the same as before,”

“I remember those times we were here,” you said slowly, tip-toeing on the edge, testing the waters to make sure it was safe enough for you to dive into the topic. “I would drag you here so many times till the point where it became our go-to dating spot. You didn’t even try to fight me about it and accepted it,” you couldn’t stop yourself from smiling at the mention of those fond moments, letting a genuine, wide smile naturally creep itself onto your lips.

Sunghoon never once took his eyes off of you, scared that even if he blinked for just a second, he would miss the look of your smile, the carefree smile that you allowed yourself to express around him unlike before. His attention squared in on you, memorising every part of you like life depended on him to do so. “I remember,” he nodded mostly to himself, pressing his lips in a flat line. “I knew I stood no chance anyway,” he laughed, resisting the urge to fully burst out laughing at the change in your reaction.

You crossed your arms, scoffing, but still remained a lighthearted smile. “Hey! You’re saying it like I forced you,”

Sunghoon shrugged, choosing to rest his head on his hand, the look in his eyes were unwavering, making you gradually turn smaller under his gaze. You couldn’t describe it, yet you knew it was there, existing in the air. There was something between you and him in that second, in that conversation, and it was far from being just a casual talk. “I just wanted to be wherever you were,”

His words hung heavily in the space between the two of you, almost uncomfortably so, adding another layer to the thick tension that seemed impossible to get rid of. It shouldn’t hit you hard, the simplicity of his words shouldn’t be something you interpreted differently, but the only thing it did was sink deeply into your skin, prickling you just the same as needles did.

He searched your face for any sign of a response, whatever it could be, but you failed to react, both physically and verbally. Your mind betrayed your senses, rendering you helpless against Sunghoon, against your fragile heart. There was desperation painted in the edges of every feature, calling out for you to give him a sign, any sign, to assure him that he hadn’t crossed any invisible line.

You opened your mouth, wishing you had a proper response ready, but in reality, you had no idea what you could say to him. He was the same person you were with in this restaurant many years ago, yet it only seemed you were sitting with someone you could barely breathe around. You realised it then, a picture clear as light, that no matter how you tried to start afresh with him, you couldn't brush off your past together, not when deep connections and feelings were still present.

“Excuse me, what would you two like to order?”

Your attempt at trying to say something was futile. A part of you was glad that you were interrupted by the bartender, the other part just wished you had the courage to reply to him instead of freezing and cowering whenever he makes your heart jump. The bartender’s appearance was the only chance you had in breaking eye contact with Sunghoon, diffusing the heavy load pressing in on you, releasing a shaky breath.

“One cosmopolitan and one scotch on the rocks,” Sunghoon stole a glance at you, noticing your expressions falling, deciding to take the initiative to order on your behalf. He casted another look at you, seeking approval to which you nodded in validation, mind already wandered off to someplace else. That wasn’t what surprised you, in fact, it was him knowing your usual drink order despite barely drinking together.

The bartender wasted no seconds in getting to work, leaving you and him alone once again to bask in the aftermath of the conversation. There was a moment of silence weighing on the both of you, waiting for either one to break it. You chose to be that person, wanting to fix the cracks you caused for turning everything into an uncomfortable mess.

“How … How did you know? My order, I mean,”

Sunghoon shrugged, leaning his weight onto the counter, keeping both his arms resting on the surface of it. He remained facing forward, not immediate in turning back to look at you. “The team dinner. You ordered a cocktail, and Yunjin said ‘again?’, then I heard you saying it’s your usual order,” he stated plainly, as if it was common information that everyone should know. “You’ve always drunk the mocktail version of it when we were together too. How could I forget …” his voice faltered, fading into the faint chatters around you.

“Right,” you breathed out, fiddling with your fingers, keeping your gaze on him, even if he wasn’t ready to meet yours. “You …” you stopped, the words were suddenly stuck in the back of your throat, hesitating to come out. “You still remember everything about me, even after all these years apart,”

Sunghoon didn’t say anything at first, waiting for a few seconds to pass slowly, agonisingly, silently suffering in his head while you couldn’t find a way into it. He dropped his head, breathing in deeply to fill his lungs with air, ignoring the way his heart clenched. He finally turned his head, meeting your eyes that were begging for a reply. A weak, half smile was all he could muster. “Of course I do,”

I still love you.

Those words automatically translated themselves into your head. The same sorrow, grief, and even longing hung in his voice, cutting deep into your heart. You stared at him, recalling the last time you were here with him, innocently thinking that everything would last in the future. If only you could turn back in time to tell yourself that you would be sitting with him in uncomfortable silence instead, looking at each other for some sort of a sign that never worked.

“Here are your drinks,” the bartender cut in, placing your drinks down in front of you, the pink of your cocktail shined under the lights hanging over your head. You and Sunghoon both expressed your thanks in return, hands reaching out for your drinks and wasting no time to take a big gulp of them.

Setting your glass down, you stole another glance at Sunghoon, watching his face scrunching up at the strong taste of his whiskey, a quiet hiss followed after. You never knew Sunghoon would be a guy who likes whiskey, it was something you couldn’t picture. It only made you wonder what else you did not know about him, what he grew to like or hate over the years, or if he was still fully the Sunghoon that you personally knew.

“So, how were your years in America?”

Sunghoon pulled a face, both a reaction to your random question and also a response signalling that it wasn’t a positive experience. He sighed, using one finger to trace the mouth of his glass. “Lonely, I guess?” He wore a smile that was enough to tell that there weren’t many happy memories regarding his years abroad. “Truthfully, I never really connected to the people, the culture and the country. I figured my heart was still stuck here,”

You nodded, absorbing his emotions like a sponge, feeling a tinge of sympathy for him. Those years of cursing him and holding a severe grudge against him, you’d never once thought that he was hurting too, that he had to go through something he didn’t want in the first place. The resentment was built up from the lack of knowing and misunderstanding. Years, valuable years were wasted over being kept in the dark. “I wonder how things would’ve turned out if you never left,”

Sunghoon partially stiffened, not expecting the topic of possibilities to be thrown into his face, a sensitive subject that he often mulled over about. “It would’ve been different. For starters, we wouldn’t be here talking about what-ifs,” he laughed, though it was weak. “I couldn’t settle down. It was hard, knowing that I left many people I care about here,” there it was again, a pause that made you hold your breath, counting down seconds till his next word. “And that I left you too,”

You offered a brief smile, one that fell just as quick as it appeared, finding yourself having no energy to try and fake one. The hurt in your eyes mirrored his, the difference lied with the reason behind it. “What matters most is that we’re both here now, right?” your hand unintentionally crept closer to his, twitching in wishful thinking that you could just hold him, even for a second.

“You’re right,” he hummed in agreement, the look of affection flashed across his expression for a quick second, just in time for you to be totally oblivious to it. “At our favourite spot too,”

“Well, cheers to that.” you held up your drink, staring expectantly at him. He chuckled at your actions, finding it rather amusing. A genuine smile pulled at his lips, he held his glass up, clinking it with yours to produce a short-lived sound. Shared laughter poured from the two of you, mixing into the taste of your drinks, the unbearable atmosphere from earlier on was long forgotten.

The night was young as everyone would say, just like your coworkers who yelled for more drinks once you and Sunghoon returned. Nobody questioned it, neither did they notice you and him disappearing for a strangely long time. You were certain, no one else could sense the lingering yearning you grew to have after your drinking session with him, or the way you stared at him from across the room for longer than a second, minutes even.

Everyone was oblivious, too engrossed in the luxury of partying to take a hint, while you and Sunghoon were overly aware of each other and the burning ache you had for one another.

Sunghoon has been officially reintroduced back into your life as days go by. Before you knew it, he had imprinted himself onto your day-to-day life, returning to the times where his presence alone was a norm to you. You didn’t question it when he picked you up from work, called you out for lunch or even dropped by your house for a casual dinner. None of those seemed out of the ordinary to you anymore, though it did take months for you to get used to the dynamic.

“So, what are you writing nowadays?” It was another Friday evening in Sunghoon’s car, sitting in the passenger seat after work, contemplating your choices for dinner. You looked over at him, watching him maintaining his concentration on the road ahead, taking more than a minute to process your question.

He raised his eyebrows, pursing his lips, thinking of his response. “I haven’t been writing. Well, not yet,”

“No wonder you have so much time to pick me up for dinner,” you snarkily muttered, feeling his eyes roll without having to confirm it personally.

“Is this your way of thanking me?”

“I’m very grateful for my personal driver, Park Sunghoon,” you said dryly, poking his shoulder teasingly, stifling your giggles. Sunghoon took a brief glance at you, but he said nothing in return, shaking his head and smiling to himself. “Where are we going now? It’s a bit too early for dinner,”

“It’s a place I’ve been wanting to go for a long time,”

You frowned, confused at the lack of information and vagueness behind his reply. “What?”

“It’s a botanical garden. I heard the flowers are blooming,”

The confusion in your face didn’t entirely dissipate, only increasing at the fact that he had a whole plan to bring you to a garden in the first place. This was completely out of character for him, you didn’t recall him being someone who liked gardens or nature. “Are you … stressed?”

“Why’s that your first assumption? I’ve just been doing some thinking, that’s all,” his fingers drummed slowly on the steering wheel, the music in the background seemed to be drowned out the longer your conversation went on. “I’m fine,” he turned to cast a reassuring smile, a sign asking for you to trust him and move on from the topic. “I was thinking we could get some fresh air and a nice scenery,”

“You sure do have many things up your sleeve.”

Sunghoon didn’t say anything in response, merely shrugging with a silent smile on his face. You glanced out of the window, letting the music overtake the space between you and him, watching the evening sun slowly set now that it was spring. Thinking back to last spring, everything you were experiencing currently was a complete one-eighty to then, you wouldn’t even be sitting with Sunghoon in his car at that time.

The chilly air bit at your skin, the only warmth provided was from Sunghoon as he walked closely next to you, shoulders occasionally bumping each other, but neither of you dared to acknowledge it. Even with the sun hiding behind the horizon and sunlight was scarce, the flowers in bloom were as beautiful as you had in mind.

“Thanks for bringing me here,” you kept your eyes trained on the flowers and plants you walked past, not sparing a glance at him. You were afraid that if you did, that if you met his gaze for just a second, you might not be able to contain some hidden emotions that you’ve been trying so hard to hold back.

“What’s with the sudden gratitude?”

“No idea, I’m just grateful that you bring me to places that I thought I’ll never go to,” you stopped in your tracks, right by a small land planted with tulips of different colours. “I get to experience new things with you all the time,” you turned to face him, a genuine smile accompanied by your sparkling eyes was enough for his heart to swell in satisfaction, though he did not let it show on his expressions.

“I’m glad then,” he hummed, staring at the tulips with newfound interest, unfazed by your lingering eyes at him. “They’re really pretty,” he nodded at the flowers, the variation of colours were dimmed down by the dark, but it happened to be oddly more fascinating under the street light.

“Yeah, they are,” You wished, at that moment, in that split second, that you could tear your eyes off of him. He was just as delicate as those tulips, the prettiest you’ve ever seen. Spellbound, that was what you were. Your heart was only increasing in speed, inconsistently skipping a beat at the thought of him. How long were you and him going to stay in this state where the lines between being friends and lovers were blurred?

He seemed to sense the energy coming off of you, or maybe it was your unwavering gaze that pierced into his soul. Turning his face, he met your eyes at the right moment, an electric wave passing through the air around you. “Why are you staring at me like that?”

Freezing like a deer in headlights, you realised he had caught you in the middle of the act. You were shameless, but thoroughly embarrassed, feigning ignorance that he could possibly see through. “Huh? Like w–what?”

“I don’t know,” he was relentless, even if he didn’t say it, you could feel his stare on you, pressing you to fess up. Classic Sunghoon, he knew what he was doing and he enjoyed teasing you, the grin on his face was clear evidence.

“It’s just because—” you paused, fighting inner thoughts to come up with an excuse. Seeing the smug look on his face while he stared expectantly at you for your answer was close enough to induce an annoyed eye roll in you that you managed to hold back. “I’m cold,”

Sunghoon tilted his head to one side, making a face that sent a clear message: he wasn’t fully convinced. Nevertheless, he didn’t sound it out, wordlessly peeling the scarf off his neck, then proceeded to wrap it around yours. An action as simple as this shouldn’t have caused you to freeze, automatically holding your breath until it ended, but it did.

“Why didn’t you bring an extra layer? You don’t do well with the cold anyway,” he focused on fixing the scarf properly before averting his eyes back to you, to meet yours, a hint of sincere worry along with disapproval in them. A gust of wind that came after brushing against the strands of his hair softly, the mole on his nose resembled a lone star in the sky.

“You’d be cold too,” your hand flew to the scarf, mindlessly touching it, as if you were still in disbelief that he had personally put it on you.

“I’ll be fine,” he waved your concerns away, shifting on his feet. “How about we get out of here and have dinner?” he threw an arm around your shoulder, an action so natural as if it was a muscle memory, slowly moving you away from the flowers and back onto the walking path.

“Sounds good.” All you remembered from that moment on was an awakened feeling which made its presence loud and known, staying with you for longer than you thought: love. It was quietly creeping up on you and waiting for its turn to get into action. The urge was becoming stronger as time passed. With Sunghoon’s being there in your daily life, you could barely avoid him, holding back was just a torture.

The torment was becoming worse when he sent you home that night, relentlessly denying your rejection in walking you to your door till the point where you had to give up for the sake of avoiding an argument. He was stubborn, adamant that he was going to see you safely go. Sunghoon was making it harder for you to escape his grasp, even though he was completely unaware of your internal turmoil that struggled to come to terms with your actual feelings.

“Thanks for walking me back. You didn’t have to, genuinely,” you were at your doorstep. It was already late, the corridor was empty, leaving you and Sunghoon to some privacy. He shrugged, hands in his pockets, posture relaxed.

“I want to, Y/N,” he said earnestly, shaking his head at you, occasionally averting his gaze away. “Let me do this for you, okay?”

“I don’t want to trouble you,”

“How is it troubling to me when I never once complained,” he raised an eyebrow at you, trying his best to get his point across. You knew he was right, there was no chance for you to fight that. After all, he was the one insisting. It was you that wasn’t used to his act of service, though it’s been the same since you first knew him.

“Fine. You win,” you scoffed, yet your smile betrayed the annoyance in your voice. The staring game you had with him lasted longer than it should have. You could point out every delicate feature of his that you liked from the top of your head with the way his face was basically imprinted on your mind. That was when you realised his scarf was still wrapped around your neck, giving you an excuse to look away from him. “Oh, I just remembered,”

You grabbed onto the scarf, pulling it off of you in a swift motion, but instead of giving it back to him immediately, you took a step forward, closing the distance between you and him. Sunghoon didn’t move, barely budging one bit, his eyes following your every move like a hawk, breathing turning more shallow as seconds passed, anticipating your next move.

You ignored the sound of your heart pumping noisily in your ears, trying your hardest to avoid his gaze, focusing on the scarf alone, moving your hands quickly to wrap his scarf around his neck, making a loop to secure it tightly on him. Even then, you didn’t dare to look at him, choosing to turn your head towards the empty corridor. “Your … scarf,” you didn't remove your hand from the cloth that was properly placed around his neck right away, another additional layer creating a barrier to his heart.

“Thanks,” Sunghoon said slowly, his eyes searching fervently for yours, only to be avoided at every given chance. He could feel the heaviness weighing in the air, an invisible string tied around the two of you was getting tighter, pulling you closer to him. A chill ran up your spine when you felt his stare intensifying, as if he was desperately calling for you to stop avoiding his eyes. “Hey,” he whispered, drawing your attention back to him. “Look at me,”

His words were a powerful command despite his gentle tone, convincing you to follow without a second thought. You met his eyes, blinking faster as if it could magically make him disappear. Those brown irises stared back at you with furrowed eyebrows, wandering every crevice of your face until he could find the reason behind your avoidance. “What’s wrong? Are you okay?”

“I’m fine. I really am,” you assured him, attempting to sound as believable as you could, adding a smile to the equation so that he wouldn’t question you further. It was true, you were flustered simply because of him, and no, you didn’t want him to know, but it was hard for you to hide. “I should go, shouldn’t I?” you were about to drop your hand from his scarf, but his hand appeared, grabbing onto yours, holding it close to his heart.

“Stay. Just a little longer,” his voice was low, a quiet confession escaping his lips no matter how he tried to hold it in.

A genuine smile replaced the one you forced earlier, pulling the slightest chuckle out of you. “I’ll be seeing you tomorrow anyway,”

“But it’s different tonight,”

So, you weren’t overthinking all along. There was truly something in the air at that moment, undeniable and alive, forcing you and him to acknowledge it even if you didn’t want to. From the second you stepped onto that garden with him, you knew you were in deep trouble. Those feelings you suppressed for months, denying their truth, had only returned to bite back at you. It was then you rightfully realised it: you still had feelings for Sunghoon. You still loved him, but you were scared, terrified that you had missed your chance considering months had passed.

You decided to do something that you could never imagine yourself doing in a million years. Taking advantage of the situation along with the momentary silence, you leaned in, inching your face closer to his, letting everything occur naturally. Sunghoon has always been sharp, quick to get the memo, this was another testament to that fact. Closing his eyes, he tilted his head, bending his body just enough for you to reach him without any challenge.

This was it. You were about to kiss Park Sunghoon. The months worth of built up tension, silent cries of desperation, a hidden confession you couldn’t bring yourself to say, all of those were going to be melted into this kiss. A kiss that wasn’t as simple as it seemed to be. Instead, it was a promise, a seal to an end to the push and pull that the two of you were stuck in. Just a little bit more, you could practically feel his lips—

“Y/N! What are you doing out there?” the voice of your roommate, Minjeong came from behind the door. Unexpectedly so, the door was ripped open after, your soon-to-be-evicted roommate was standing there, hand on one side of her hip, staring accusingly at you and Sunghoon as though you were guilty of a crime.

You pushed yourself from Sunghoon, slipping your hand from his, almost choking on your spit from how fast you tried to remove any remnants of the ‘almost kiss’. The suspicions were only more obvious, but you couldn’t be bothered to care about that, thoroughly embarrassed and cringing on Sunghoon’s behalf. Being caught by a roommate wasn’t a bad thing, unless that roommate happened to be Minjeong, your best friend that cussed your ex out, and also listened to your endless rants about him. Now, that was the problem.

“Minjeong, hey,” your tone was the complete opposite to your eyes that were furiously shooting daggers at her. “This isn’t the right time to appear,” you mumbled quietly to her, nodding over at Sunghoon without being too obvious. Disappointment with a pinch of confusion was what you could describe her expression at that precise moment, withholding any judgements that were saved for later. “I’ll come in after I say my goodbyes, okay?”

Minjeong had no other choice but to close the door even though it was written all over her face that she was against the idea of leaving you alone with Sunghoon. Once you heard the door closing behind you, that was only when you let out a sigh of relief. Facing Sunghoon again made you wish a massive black hole would appear to swallow you up. He, on the other hand, was smiling at you. Whether it was out of awkwardness or he was just secretly laughing at you, there was no telling which one it was.

“Sorry about that. She has really … bad timings,” you bit the insides of your cheek, fiddling with your fingers anxiously. Kissing him meant no return, but a close call of a kiss was far worse when you could barely explain yourself.

“It’s nothing. She’s probably worried about you,” Sunghoon shook his head, offering an assuring smile that did nothing to soothe your anxiousness. Well, there was your attempt at going for a kiss that ended up in a ditch. “Don’t worry about it,” his eyes flickered between your fidgeting hands and your face, noticing the change in your expressions. He reached for your hands, holding them tightly in his. It was sudden, but not too surprising. “I know,”

You looked up at him, a glint of hope sparked in your eyes, your heart picking up speed, threatening to escape your chest. He … knew? Sunghoon was unwavering, a look of determination flashing across his features. “I know,” he repeated, doing everything he could to ease your worries. Even with the lack of explanations, you understood him, needing no more than that to know he has been aware of you and your heart all along. “Let’s talk about this tomorrow, okay?”

“Alright,” you squeezed his hands, a way of thanking him and also for a seek of reassurance. “Let’s leave this for a proper time,”

Sunghoon nodded, rubbing his thumb softly against your skin. “It’s getting late. You should get going. I think Minjeong is too protective over you,”

You scoffed, the thought of your roommate only haunted you with those new memories. “She just needs some time,” you were referring to the time at the bar where she nearly skinned Sunghoon alive if you hadn’t interfered at the right moment. Who knew what she would’ve done with her out of her mind? “Anyway, goodnight. Text me when you’re home.”

“I will. Goodnight, Y/N.”

Minjeong was relentless, practically hunting you down for every single information possible once you entered your supposedly safe home. She was still mildly unconvinced about Sunghoon even though she was willing to hear you out, worried he might break your heart once more. Instead, you were convinced you were the one breaking your own heart from holding back longer.

There were many things you were scared about when it came to starting a relationship once more, fearing the existing uncertainties and doubts hidden behind the curtains to stand in the way of you and Sunghoon. However, there was one thing you were wholeheartedly certain about, and that was you loving Sunghoon in every stage of life.

You were a mess.

Ever since that night, you were sure you had left many things hanging and unsaid. The kiss that was meant to happen turned into dust right before you, making the complications between you and Sunghoon worse than it originally was. Not to mention, you haven't seen Sunghoon since then either. The promise of seeing each other the next day went into the gutters when the two of you were coincidentally roped into matters from your jobs. It didn’t stop there. Your busy lives resulted in days of not seeing each other, taking a turn from your usual routine.

Truthfully, there were times where you wanted to pour your heart out over a text message. The overwhelming thoughts you had accumulated in the days you and him were apart was eating you alive. ‘Hey … I think I like you’ surely, a message such as that wasn’t going to suffice. You were stuck in a limbo, going back and forth between having the confidence of confessing to none. In a nutshell, you were petrified out of your mind to face your fear: coming to terms with your feelings.

Tossing and turning in bed has become a habit when the worries seem to pile up with time. You still had the last message of Sunghoon stuck in your mind as you lay awake, considering the meanings behind it that you were convinced you were overthinking about. ‘Let’s meet tomorrow, no more excuses this time, it’s a must’ since when did he turn into such a clingy person? Or was there some ulterior motives hiding up his sleeves this time around?

You slipped out of bed, pulled a hoodie over your head and headed straight for the front door. It was an impulsive decision to be leaving the comforts of your home in the middle of the night, you knew that, but you also needed some fresh air to think. Your feet brought you to a spot you’ve neglected for a long time, the overhead bridge close to your home. It has been years since you last crossed it, either choosing the long way to walk or drive just so you could avoid the memories resurfacing.

The overhead bridge was the place you would often cross to head home when you were in highschool. Coincidentally, you and Sunghoon were connected by that bridge. He lived on the other side of it, creating many excuses that walking home with you was on his way home as well, knowing it was the complete opposite, but eventually you gave in, which ended in you and him going on many adventures after school. At the end of every day, your time with him ended on that overhead bridge, though you spent at least half an hour purely talking before going your separate ways.

Now that you were there again, you found it much surreal that years have passed and nothing has changed. It was as if the memories you made there with Sunghoon were frozen in time, that this place has become an artifact which proves the existence of you and Sunghoon’s relationship. Just by standing there, you could see every scenario you experienced playing out right in front you. There was once where you and Sunghoon did nothing but just share your secrets until the time of your curfew arrived.

“You’re here?”

You wondered if you had accidentally thought about Sunghoon too hard to the extent of you vividly hearing his voice in your head. Overlooking the quiet cars passing by on the road under the bridge, you didn’t turn your head immediately, listening carefully to the sounds of footsteps approaching first, only then you dared to look over to the direction of the source.

“You’re here too,” your eyes weren’t tricking you, even though you doubted yourself for a second. His figure in the dark was dimly illuminated by the street lights, the familiar rhythm in his steps exposed himself to you. He stood beside you, resting his arms on the railings, staring up at the night sky.

“I couldn’t sleep,” he replied, shoulder brushing gently against yours, mindlessly leaning closer to you. “I thought of coming here. I live near my old home anyway,” he shrugged, averting his attention back to you, an intensely inquisitive look flashing across his face. “What’s your reason?”

“I needed to think,” about you, about us, specifically.

“Something’s keeping you up?”

“Well …”

“Or is it someone?”

He surely knew how to read minds, didn’t he?

You masked the initial shock from showing, covering the guilt of hiding the truth and turning it into impassiveness. However, your silence with the addition of avoiding his gaze gave away the impression that you were, in fact, hiding something from him. He could read you like a book, painfully so.

“I’m right, aren’t I?” Sunghoon continued to egg you on, crossing his arms, moving his face closer to fix his eyes on you, scanning your expressions to determine an answer. “Is it someone at work causing trouble?”

“Not exactly. There’s no one, Sunghoon. I’m just worried about work,” you waved him off dismissively, hating that the person you had in mind happened to be the same person questioning you as well. Sunghoon leaned back a little more, creating a small space between you and him compared to earlier.

“You’re not seeing anyone?”

You raised an eyebrow at that, frowning just the slightest. “No. Are you?”

He shook his head, exhaling quietly. “I don’t think I’m interested,”

“What does that mean? You’re going to stay single forever?” you teased him, nudging him a little, yet internally, you contemplated the meaning behind his words. Did you truly lose your chance?

“It means, I’m not looking for anything now. Well, at least I haven’t found the right person anyway,” he shook his head, sounding equally dismissive as you did. “How … Why did you think of coming here out of all places? I thought there’s a nice park below your apartment complex,” he was quick to change the topic at hand, although you found it odd, you didn’t complain. You didn’t want to know more when your heart was already fragile because of your worries over him.

“I thought it’d be nice to revisit an old place,” you breathed in deeply, appreciating the quietness of the night, leaving you and Sunghoon in your own bubble, the world seemingly revolving around only the both of you. “I haven’t been here in many years,”

“So, did coming here after all these years somehow cleared your mind?”

“Not exactly,” you were being completely truthful this time. With Sunghoon’s sudden appearance and the resurgence of old memories, you were far from sane and having your mind straight. However, him showing up right at the moment of you thinking about him was a sign and also a confirmation to your everlasting questions. “But I did find an answer,”

“Oh, really? That’s good then,” Sunghoon glanced away, unaware of your eyes lingering on him, focusing on the way his chest moved up then down, letting the comfortable silence engulf you and him. You didn’t mind the fact that his side was basically pressing into yours, the warmth from his body provided an invisible blanket wrapped around you. The sudden sound of a yawn coming from him disrupted the ambiance, his sheepish grin met your amused chuckle.

“Ready to sleep?”

“Seems like it,” he let out a genuine laugh, looking a little apologetic. Sunghoon rested his head on his arms, glancing up at you, a soft twinkle in those eyes as if you were his world, cradling you in the reflection of his pupils so that you wouldn’t leave his sight for even just a second. “I’m not ready to leave yet,”

“We’ll see each other tomorrow anyway, you demanded it,” you pointed a finger at him, watching his smile turn wider at your direct call out. “Do you have something planned?”

“Of course, I do. Who do you think I am?” he was confident in whatever he had in mind, the smugness in his face said it all. You could see it wearing off in just a split second, letting a slip of his actual emotions. “I thought it could make up for the days we didn’t see each other,”

You blinked mindlessly, allowing the meaning of his words to marinate in your mind, processing the weight of it all. Flickering eyes stared back at him, you put on a nervous smile that was trying its best to hide the fact that you were panicking about the urge to say something you wouldn’t. “You’re acting like we’re something,”

Sunghoon shrugged, raising his eyebrows at you, not showing much of a change in his expressions. “But we’re not exactly nothing, aren’t we?”

“Touche,” you nodded, suddenly grateful that it was mostly dark enough to hide the flush in your face. “Get your beauty sleep tonight, I’ll see you in the morning. It’s the weekend, you should be sleeping in,”

Sunghoon straightened his spine, holding onto the railings, shifting on his feet. “Fine, fine,” he was rather reluctant, doing double takes between the night scenery before him and you, his eternal sunshine. “So, I guess this is a goodbye for the night,” he tilted his head slightly, staring at you with a sense of hesitation, as though he wasn’t ready to part.

“It’s a temporary goodbye, don’t be dramatic,” you clicked your tongue, narrowing your eyes at him.

Sunghoon laughed softly, mostly humoured by your reaction. He lowered his gaze onto the floor for a few seconds, hiding the affection that filled his irises, before he met your eyes once more, an unreadable look took over instead. “Goodnight, Y/N,”

You smiled, a sudden wave of deja vu hit you, the memory of your past coming back to you in a rush. There you were, at the same place, together with the person that was there by your side years ago, an identical replay of your nightly routine where you bid each other goodbye before parting ways.

“Goodnight, Sunghoon.”

Sunghoon slowly nodded, taking a few steps back, his eyes never leaving you once. He raised his hand, waving goodbye, to which you reciprocated, an uneasy feeling creeping up on you knowing you had yet left things incomplete, the things you wished you said were buried in your heart again. The moment he turned his back on you, you wondered if you had missed your chance of saying what’s on your mind.

From wanting to settle your emotions quietly, and very much alone somehow turned into an answer that was always there for you to discover and realise: you were not going to let Sunghoon slip away again. You opened your mouth, hoping something, anything would just come out and pull him back, but there was nothing. He was getting farther, with every step he took, you followed, your feet instinctively bringing you closer to him, your heart naturally seeking for him.

“I love you,”

The eight letter word poured out from the deepest parts of your soul, reaching his heart through a single thread connecting you and him together. It wasn’t the first thing you had in mind, and yet, your heart confessed the secret it's been holding onto for far too long. You stopped in your tracks just as Sunghoon did, the silence becoming deafening when neither of you said anything in response. You couldn’t tell what he was thinking, hell, his face wasn’t even facing you. There was only room for you to imagine his reaction in that fleeting moment.

“I love you,” you repeated, a little more louder this time, as if saying it once wasn’t convincing enough. In your case, you were still in denial that it ever left your lips. Lowering your head, you could only place your attention on the ground, not having enough courage to face him. “I thought that if I don’t say it now, I’ll never get to say it again. I’ve been thinking about us, and I didn’t want to lose another chance, another year without you. I was scared I’ll lose you completely, that your heart would be someone else’s—”

Heavy footsteps cut through your voice, a sense of urgency followed with every step taken to get to you. You couldn’t finish your sentence, mind instantly turning blank when you saw his shoes directly in front of you. Still, you didn’t look up, you couldn’t bring yourself to, not until Sunghoon’s hands met the side of your face, palms resting gently on your cheeks, tilting your head upward, lips crashing into yours without any prior warning.

The initial shock gradually withered away, you closed your eyes, letting yourself melt into him. The walls were no longer there, you had fully, wholly given your heart to him, no longer afraid of him breaking it again. The feeling of his lips wasn’t something you’d forget easily. An overwhelming amount of desperation, longing, and love that the both of you had were silently exchanged, the vulnerability was raw, finally understanding that you could fully love one another without anything standing in between, not even the past and the grudges it held.

A choked sob left your lips, the tears were flowing before you could find the strength to hold it in. Sunghoon only deepened the kiss, pulling your trembling body closer to him. There was a weight of his emotions as his lips moved against yours, you could feel it, the desperation of his own to heal whatever pain that was inside of you.

You pulled away for a moment, gasping for air, the heaviness in your heart becoming more apparent, the tears flowing down your cheeks were met with Sunghoon’s thumb, softly caressing the expanse of your face, wiping away the tears that brought pain to his heart. “I thought I was okay, but I’m not. I’m still in love with you, Sunghoon. I’ve always wanted to tell you this, but I couldn’t find the right time, and I was scared I’d lose you … again,”

Sunghoon stared at you with an infinite amount of admiration, as if you were the sun in his darkest days or the prettiest painting in an art museum, the only person that was made for him, an undoubtable fact that he was wholeheartedly certain about. You were his past, his present, and his future, a mark in every timeline there is in his lifetime. “I love you too. I haven’t stopped loving you, and I don’t think I ever will. You’re my person, you’ll never lose me,”

His eyes were red, brimming with tears, but he didn’t allow a tear to fall, maintaining a smile, though it was weak. You held onto his hand, feeling it shake under your touch. Intertwining his fingers with yours, you gave his hand a reassuring squeeze. “You’re my person too,”

“I wish … I wish I could give you back the years you’ve spent resenting me,” his voice was weak, defenceless against the emotions that overwhelmed him. “I wish I could’ve been there, so that you didn’t have to be in pain because of me,”

“It’s okay, Sunghoon, really. The past can’t hurt us anymore, and it doesn’t define us either,” your hand travelled to his face, cupping his cheek. “What matters most is we’re us again,”

Sunghoon breathed deeply, letting out a shaky breath. His eyes flickered, a faint smile appearing in the midst of his tired face. “So, does that mean we’re officially back together?”

“Yes, we are. Back to how it always was,”

He slipped his hand away from yours, instead, he threw his arms around you, pulling you into his embrace, holding onto you tightly. A part of him was scared that everything was just a dream, that you would disappear in any moment. “You’ll always be a part of me, a part that cannot ever be erased,”

“That’s good, because you also make up a big part of my heart.”

His laugh was enough to erase the bittersweet pain that you felt from erasing the past and starting a new path with the person that took up most parts of your life. He was always there in your life even when he became a memory, there was no way in hell you could ever replace him, not in a million years, not in this lifetime of yours.

From the day you saw him again, you had a feeling he was never leaving, not anymore. After all, the ones that were meant to be a part of your life would come back to you, while those that don’t would never cross paths with you ever again. In Sunghoon’s case, he was the one that was meant to be in every stage of your life, whether it was physically or just mentally.

You and Sunghoon could never be just friends, because the two of you were already predestined to be lovers.

“You’re going to let that go, right?”

Just because you and Sunghoon were officially back together didn’t mean that there was a change in your dynamic. You were still continuing on with your life as usual, Sunghoon had started writing his new book, and once it’s time for you to get off work, his car would already be there to pick you up. Nothing has changed except for the title of your relationship with him.

Telling Minjeong about it should’ve required a mental preparation beforehand. There you were, in your apartment, eating take out with an addition to the duo, Park Sunghoon, who was being interrogated by an old friend. You were the bystander having to witness everything unfold, occasionally getting embarrassed by Minjeong’s antics that Sunghoon found amusing in the contrary.

“Right, that time in the bar where you came up to me and cussed me out,” Sunghoon laughed, clapping his hands at the memory. It was hard not to let out at least a giggle at that. Somehow, the most complicated times of your life were far, far away from you, becoming a laughable memory for you and your friends to reminisce about.

“I was drunk!” Minjeong tried to fight back, knowing it was a losing battle against her.

“It was funny, I’ll give you that,” Sunghoon pointed his chopsticks at her, shaking his head when Minjeong started to mumble incoherent things under her breath. “Don’t worry, I’m not going to hold it against you. You’re an old friend anyway, and I get where you were coming from,”

“I never got to formally apologise to you though, I swear it was eating me up. How about I pay for our drinks the next time we go out?”

“Sounds like a deal.” Sunghoon nodded in satisfaction, glancing at you to catch your reaction, eyeing you stifling a laugh. He raised an eyebrow at you, to which you shook your head in response to his unspoken question that you understood without a doubt. His eyes lingered on you for another beat before looking away, a faint smile resting on his lips.

Dinner ended with a new promise to meet up for drinks that was enthusiastically met with collective agreements. Instead of the usual routine where Sunghoon walked you home, you decided to follow him till a certain distance from your apartment complex. Despite his rejection, you still clung onto him, leaving him no choice but to let you walk him home, even if it was midway.

“Thanks for joining us for dinner,” you had your arm looped around his, sticking your side to his, close enough to be compared to a koala clinging onto a tree branch.

“I was scared she’d come for my head,” Sunghoon jokes, but realistically speaking, you shared the same worry as he did, knowing how Minjeong disapproved of him after your breakup up till the time he returned, the memory of her confronting him at the club was concrete evidence to back up your worries.

“I was scared for you too,” you laughed even though you promised yourself you wouldn’t slip, unaware of the look he had in his eyes. Sunghoon smiled at you, not because he found your response funny, but seeing you laugh was all he needed for his heart to feel full from contentment.

“I made a dinner reservation at our usual spot for tomorrow. I’ll come pick you up after work,” Sunghoon was always pulling the most spontaneous plans when you least expected it, this time wasn’t an exception either.

“It’s specifically our table, right?” you remembered that night at the restaurant where you and Sunghoon escaped the entire party just to be with each other, ignorant to the fact that you and him were building something stronger than the whiskey he had.

“Who do you think I am?”

“Right, the one with many tricks hidden up his sleeves,” you heard him chuckling under his breath, not before long realising that you were already at the foot of the overhead bridge. The both of you slowed down your steps, eventually stopping, standing before each other, hands still tightly holding onto one another.

“I guess it’s time to end the night,” Sunghoon squeezed your hand, not missing the frown slowly forming on your lips.

“Can’t you stay a little longer?”

“If I do, I don’t think I would even make it home. Is that your master plan?” he pulled your hand, closing the distance, letting you fall into his embrace without a pinch of shame. You, on the other hand, weren’t expecting his bold action, landing with your hand planted on his chest, heat crawling up the back of your neck till your face. “I’ll make sure tomorrow’s better than tonight,”

Steadying yourself on your feet, you made sure to land a slap on his shoulder first before thinking of a response. Sunghoon simply smiled, seemingly proud of his own impulsive act. “You promise?”

“I promise,” he pinched your cheek, eliciting a genuine laugh from you, a smile appearing on his face right after as if it had turned into a natural response. For a moment, the two of you stood there with barely an inch in between, thankful that there wasn’t anybody around to intrude, basking in each other’s warmth. Neither of you were ready to say goodbye, though knowing it was inevitable.

“I’ll see you tomorrow, okay?” you whispered, as if seeking a kind of reassurance that only Sunghoon’s confirmation could provide.

“Of course,” Sunghoon squeezed your hand one more time, assuring you once again. His touch was gentle, the gaze he had on you was something irreplicable, just as his feelings were for you. “Goodnight, Y/N,”

“Goodnight, Sunghoon.”

He kept his eyes on you for another moment before he slowly let go of his hand, leaning in to press a kiss on the top of your head. As he backed away, waving, you watched him with his promise swelling in your heart, some sort of anticipation building on its own, already looking forward to the plan he had in store.

You knew that as long as you had him by your side, spending the rest of your days with him in your life, your world was going to be much brighter than it had been with him in it.

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