#it’s been in my head all week i had to get it out

[cherryxbooo]

I’ll do anything to make you happy

Summary: You were excited for winter break to start because it meant one thing: spending more time with Lando. But little did you know, that was the one thing you wouldn't be getting.

Reader x Lando Norris

Genre: fluff/angst

Winter always held a special kind of charm for me.

The frosty mornings, cozy blankets, and steaming cups of cocoa had always made this season my favorite.

But this year, it held a different promise: Lando finally had a break from racing.

After months of hectic schedules, jet-setting across the globe, and stolen moments in between races, I was looking forward to having him all to myself.

At first, it was everything I’d imagined and more.

We spent lazy mornings tangled in bed, with me teasing him about his messy hair while he pulled me closer, claiming I was his personal heater.

Breakfasts turned into brunches because we couldn’t stop talking or joking around.

We watched movies, baked cookies that turned out terrible, and played endless rounds of Mario Kart, which I always managed to win.

“You’re only winning because I’m letting you,” Lando said one evening, his grin teasing as he tossed the controller onto the couch.

“Sure you are,” I replied, laughing as I grabbed my victory snack from the table.

Those first few days felt like we were in our own little world, where nothing else mattered but us.

But soon, reality began creeping in.

It started innocently enough.

“Babe, Max just called,” Lando said one morning, leaning against the counter with his coffee mug in hand.

“He’s organizing a karting session. Shouldn’t take long.”

I smiled, my heart swelling with pride.

Racing was his passion, and I loved seeing him happy. “Go have fun. Just don’t let him beat you.”

“Never,” he said with a wink, kissing my temple quickly before heading out.

That day, I didn’t mind the quiet. I worked on some projects, caught up with friends, and even took a long bath.

By the time he got home, his cheeks were flushed with cold, and he couldn’t stop talking about how much fun he’d had.

But karting soon turned into golf.

Golf turned into poker nights. And poker nights turned into outings that stretched late into the night.

“I’ll be back soon,” he’d text, always with a heart emoji. But “soon” became later and later each time.

I told myself it was fine. He deserved this break.

He’d worked so hard all year, and if spending time with his friends helped him unwind, who was I to complain?

But as the days wore on, the house began to feel emptier, and so did I.

One evening, I decided to surprise him with his favorite dinner.

I spent hours in the kitchen, setting the table with candles and dimming the lights for a cozy atmosphere.

When Lando walked through the door, his expression softened as he took in the setup.

“You didn’t have to do all this,” he said, wrapping his arms around me.

“I wanted to,” I replied, smiling up at him.

“You’ve been so busy, and I thought it’d be nice to have a quiet night together.”

“That’s so sweet,” he said, leaning down to kiss me.

“But the guys are waiting for me. I promised I’d meet them for drinks tonight. Let’s rain check this?”

My smile faltered, but I nodded. “Of course.”

He kissed me again and was out the door before I could say anything more.

I sat down at the table, staring at the empty chair across from me.

The candles flickered, their light reflecting off the untouched plates. I took a deep breath, telling myself it was okay.

But deep down, a tiny crack had formed in my heart.

Days turned into weeks, and the cracks only deepened.

Lando’s absence became more noticeable, and I began to feel like a ghost in our own home.

One evening, after scrolling through endless photos of him with his friends on Instagram, I called Mia, my best friend.

“What’s wrong?” she asked the moment she picked up.

I sighed, the weight of my emotions pressing down on me.

“It’s Lando. He’s been spending so much time with his friends lately, and I feel like I’m… invisible.”

Mia was quiet for a moment before saying, “Y/N, you’re not invisible. But you need to talk to him. He’s not a mind reader.”

“I don’t want to seem clingy,” I admitted, my voice barely above a whisper.

“You’re not clingy. You’re his girlfriend. He should want to spend time with you. Talk to him.”

Her words gave me the push I needed. That night, when Lando came home, I gathered my courage.

“Can we talk?” I asked, my heart pounding in my chest.

“Of course,” he said, sitting down next to me.

I took a deep breath.

“I’ve been feeling… neglected lately. I know you’re enjoying your break, and I want you to have fun, but I miss us. I miss you.”

He frowned, reaching for my hand.

“Babe, I’m sorry if it feels that way. But I’m here now, aren’t I?”

I nodded, but his words didn’t ease the ache in my chest. Before I could say more, he kissed me and stood up.

“Max needs help with something,” he said, grabbing his keys. “Love you!”

And just like that, he was gone. Again.

I tried my best to push away all negative thoughts until I thought about the positive ones.

Our second anniversary was just days away, and I held onto the hope that he’d make it special.

I told myself the late nights didn’t matter. He was probably planning something incredible for our anniversary.

The next day,

The morning light filtered through the curtains, painting the room in soft golden hues.

I stretched lazily, a content smile curling my lips as I reached across the bed.

My fingers met cold sheets. The space beside me was empty.

I frowned, the giddy excitement I had woken up with faltering.

Today was our second anniversary.

I had imagined waking up wrapped in Lando’s arms, whispering sleepy “Happy anniversary” wishes before sharing breakfast together.

Instead, he was gone.

I also realized that I hadn't heard him come back last night.

He told me he was just helping Max out with something, but he probably went out partying with his friends afterward, again.

I tried to shake off the disappointment as I climbed out of bed, brushing my hair out of my face.

Maybe he had planned a surprise and needed to step out early.

A flutter of hope lifted my spirits as I grabbed my robe and headed toward the kitchen.

The scent of coffee greeted me, but there was no sign of Lando.

Instead, on the counter, I found a note written in his familiar scrawl:

“Gone golfing with the guys. Be back later. Love you.”

My heart sank. Golfing? On our anniversary?

I swallowed the lump rising in my throat, trying to focus on the fact that he had said he’d be back later.

He wouldn’t forget our dinner, right?

We’d planned this evening together weeks ago, and I’d been looking forward to it ever since.

I folded the note and placed it aside, telling myself not to overthink it. He would be back in time.

He promised.

After a quick breakfast, I set to work preparing for the evening.

My heart thudded with a mix of excitement and nervousness as I laid out my plans.

Lando had been so busy lately, and this was my chance to remind him how much I loved him, despite everything.

I spent hours in the kitchen, cooking all his favorite dishes: his go-to pasta, a roasted chicken dish he always requested, and even the dessert I’d failed at three times before finally perfecting.

The smells of herbs, garlic, and chocolate filled the apartment, making it feel warm and inviting.

Between stirring pots and chopping vegetables, I took breaks to set up the dining table.

I draped it with a soft cream tablecloth, adding candles and a scattering of rose petals for a romantic touch.

Fairy lights hung along the walls, casting a cozy glow that made the space feel magical.

On the counter, I carefully placed his gift, a sleek watch he had admired months ago but never bought for himself.

Not forgetting to attach a handwritten note to the box.

With everything ready, I checked the clock.

It was almost evening. So I had to hurry up to get ready.

I slipped into the dress I had chosen weeks ago, a soft, fitted number I knew he loved on me.

My makeup was simple yet elegant, and I added the finishing touch, a spritz of the perfume Lando had gifted me for my last birthday.

I felt beautiful, excited, and nervous all at once as I sat on the couch, watching the clock.

Five minutes passed. Then ten.

By the time twenty minutes had gone by, I grabbed my phone, texting him a quick, “Hey, are you on your way?”

No response.

An hour later, I texted again. Then called. Still nothing.

My excitement turned into a gnawing worry that sat heavy in my chest.

Where was he? Had he forgotten?

Two hours passed.

The candles on the table had burned down halfway, their flickering flames reflecting off the now-cold plates of food.

The fairy lights, once magical, now felt like mockery.

Finally, three hours later, I gave up.

Tears stung my eyes as I blew out the candles, packed away the food, and removed my dress, exchanging it for soft pajamas.

My makeup was smeared with tears by the time I climbed into bed.

I grabbed my phone one last time, and my heart shattered when I saw the Instagram story.

It was one of Lando’s friends, showing a clip of him laughing, drink in hand, surrounded by his friends.

He looked happy. Carefree.

And completely oblivious that tonight was our anniversary.

The tears came faster, hot and uncontrollable. I buried my face in the pillow, the ache in my chest overwhelming.

I had been so sure he’d come back, that he’d remember. But I was wrong.

Later that night,

The apartment was cloaked in silence when Lando opened the front door, the click of the lock echoing faintly in the stillness.

He stumbled inside the weight of exhaustion and faint traces of guilt tugging at his chest.

The soft glow of the streetlights outside illuminated the darkened space just enough for him to make out his surroundings.

Something felt… off.

He reached for the light switch, and as the room was bathed in warm light, his eyes landed on the dining table across from him.

He froze.

The table was beautifully decorated, candles placed strategically, now melted into small stubs, surrounded by rose petals that had been artfully scattered.

Plates of food were neatly covered with lids to keep them from going bad, but even from a distance, Lando could tell they were his favorites.

He took a tentative step forward, his stomach sinking further with each movement.

Resting near the center of the table was a small, wrapped box with a note attached to it.

The sight made his chest tighten, a creeping realization clawing at the edges of his mind.

His fingers trembled as he picked up the note. Unfolding it carefully, he read the words in her familiar handwriting:

"To my Lando, the best thing that ever happened to me. Thank you for being my partner, my love, my everything. Happy anniversary, baby. Love, Y/N."

The words hit him like a punch to the gut. His heart sank as the full weight of the evening’s significance crashed over him.

Anniversary. He’d forgotten their second anniversary.

Lando stood there, the note still clutched in his hand, his throat tightening as shame washed over him.

He thought back to the past few weeks, to the times he’d brushed you off or come home late without so much as an explanation.

He couldn’t even recall the last time you two spent real, quality time together.

You had tried to talk to him about it, about how you felt neglected, and he had dismissed your concerns every single time.

Now, standing there amidst the evidence of your effort and love, he felt like the worst boyfriend in the world.

Lando exhaled shakily, running a hand through his hair as regret threatened to overwhelm him.

He couldn’t blame anyone but himself.

He glanced around the room, noticing how quiet it was. He knew you were asleep.

His eyes landed on his phone, dead from the night’s events.

With a heavy sigh, he plugged it into the charger, pacing nervously as he waited for it to turn back on.

When it finally lit up, the screen was flooded with notifications, missed calls and unread messages from Y/N.

The time stamps told the story of your evening:

“Hey, are you on your way?” - 8 p.m. “I’m waiting for you… everything’s ready.” -8:30 p.m. “Lando, please call me.” -9 p.m. “Are you okay? I’m starting to worry.” -10 p.m.

The last message was hours old, her tone shifting from hopeful to concerned.

Each notification felt like another jab to his heart, the guilt almost unbearable.

He dropped his phone onto the counter and made his way toward their shared bedroom.

Pushing the door open quietly, he stepped into the dimly lit room.

His gaze immediately found her curled up under the covers, her face half-buried in the pillow.

His breath hitched when he noticed the faint streaks on her cheeks, traces of tears she hadn’t been able to hide.

The sight made his heart clench painfully. She’d cried herself to sleep, and it was his fault.

Lando approached the bed slowly, kneeling beside her as he took in her tear-streaked face.

She looked so peaceful yet so vulnerable, her chest rising and falling softly with each breath.

Guilt swirled in his chest as he reached out, brushing a strand of hair away from her face.

“I’m so sorry, baby,” he whispered, his voice barely audible, thick with regret.

Leaning down, he pressed a gentle kiss to her temple, lingering for a moment as if hoping it could somehow convey all the apologies he couldn’t say while she was awake.

His thumb grazed her cheek, and he sighed deeply.

“You didn’t deserve this,” he murmured, his voice breaking.

“I’ve been such an ass… the worst boyfriend. I’ll make it up to you, I promise. I love you so much.”

She stirred slightly at his touch but didn’t wake.

Lando watched her for a moment longer before standing, his mind racing with plans to fix what he’d broken.

Tomorrow, he vowed, would be all about her.

The next morning, I woke up with a dull ache in my chest, my body heavy from the night before.

My eyes were sore and puffy from crying myself to sleep.

I glanced at the empty side of the bed, already prepared for the familiar sting of disappointment.

Figured he’d leave again before I woke up, I thought bitterly.

Dragging myself out of bed, I moved to the bathroom to freshen up.

The cold water on my face didn’t do much to wash away the exhaustion or the emotional weight from the previous night.

With a sigh, I tied my hair back and made my way downstairs, expecting another day of hurt to unfold.

Halfway down the stairs, though, something unusual stopped me in my tracks.

The smell of coffee, rich and inviting, wafted through the air.

There was another scent too, pancakes? My brow furrowed in confusion.

"That can’t be right. Lando doesn’t cook... does he? Who am i kidding he can't even boil eggs."

I cautiously descended the rest of the stairs, each step filling me with equal parts curiosity and hesitation.

As I rounded the corner into the kitchen, I froze at the sight before me.

There he was, standing by the stove, flipping a pancake with a focused but slightly clumsy determination.

Plates of food lined the table, croissants, fresh fruit, juice, and what looked like store-bought pastries.

It didn’t take long to figure out most of the spread wasn’t homemade, but the effort was unmistakably his.

“Morning, love,” Lando greeted me, his tone soft and tentative, his lips curling into a nervous smile.

I raised an eyebrow, my arms crossing instinctively. “What’s all this?”

He put the spatula down and stepped closer, wiping his hands on a kitchen towel.

“It’s breakfast... and an apology,” he said, his voice earnest.

My eyes flickered between him and the spread on the table.

I could see he was trying, but the hurt from last night still lingered like a heavy cloud over my chest.

“Come sit,” he said gently, pulling a chair out for me.

I hesitated for a moment before sitting down, my arms still crossed defensively.

Lando grabbed a plate, placing a pancake in front of me before adding a small pile of fruit and a croissant on the side.

I eyed him suspiciously as he poured me a cup of coffee, then sat across from me.

“What are you doing, Lando?” I asked, my voice tinged with a mix of confusion and frustration.

He leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table as he met my gaze.

“I messed up, Y/N. Big time. And I need you to know how sorry I am.” His voice was steady but filled with regret.

I stayed silent, waiting for him to continue.

“Last night,” he began, his brows furrowing,

“I forgot our anniversary. I forgot the one day I should’ve been making you feel like the most important person in the world. And it’s not just last night, I’ve been neglecting you for weeks. You told me how you felt, and I brushed it off like an idiot.”

His voice cracked slightly as he spoke, and I could see the weight of his guilt etched into every line on his face.

“I’ve been selfish, caught up in my own world, and I didn’t see how much I was hurting you. You deserve so much better than that, Y/N. Better than me.”

I felt my throat tighten as his words sank in. The sincerity in his tone chipped away at the walls I’d put up.

“I was so hurt, Lando,” I said, my voice trembling.

“I waited for you all night. I planned everything because I thought… I thought you’d come home and we’d celebrate together. I stayed up, hoping you’d walk through that door with a smile, ready to tell me how much you love me. But you didn’t.”

Tears pricked my eyes as I continued.

“I saw that video of you and your friends. You were laughing and having fun while I sat here, alone, on what was supposed to be our night.”

Lando’s face fell, his hands gripping the edge of the table as if grounding himself from the weight of my words.

“I know,” he whispered.

“And I hate myself for it. Seeing what you did for me last night, the decorations, the food, the note. I realized just how much I’ve been taking you for granted. I never want you to feel that way again, Y/N. You’re the most important thing in my life. I need you to believe that.”

He reached into his pocket and pulled out a small box, sliding it across the table to me.

“What’s this?” I asked, my voice softer now, though my heart still carried the sting of last night.

“Open it,” he urged.

I carefully lifted the lid, revealing a delicate necklace with a sparkling pendant.

The intricate design caught the morning light, making it shimmer.

“Lando…” I trailed off, overwhelmed.

“It’s not enough to make up for what I’ve done,” he said quickly,

“but it’s a start. And today, it’s all about you. Whatever you want to do, wherever you want to go, we’ll do it.”

I stared at the necklace for a moment before meeting his eyes.

“It’s beautiful,” I said, my voice thick with emotion. “Thank you.”

“But,” I added, my tone firm, “this doesn’t mean I’ve fully forgiven you yet.”

“I know,” he said, nodding.

“And I don’t expect you to. But I’ll spend every day proving to you how much I care, how much I love you. I won’t stop until you believe me again.”

The determination in his voice made my chest tighten.

I wanted to hold onto my anger, to make him feel the depth of my hurt, but seeing him now, vulnerable, regretful, and desperate to make things right.

I couldn’t help but feel the smallest crack in my resolve.

As the morning unfolded, Lando’s sincerity shone through.

He insisted on clearing the table and cleaning up, stealing small glances at me as if trying to gauge my mood.

I wasn’t ready to let go of all the hurt just yet, but for the first time in weeks, I felt a glimmer of hope.

Maybe, just maybe, we could find our way back to each other.

The morning's heartfelt apology set the tone for what became one of the most memorable days Lando and I had spent together in weeks.

While I was still guarded, I couldn’t deny that he was trying, really trying, to make things right.

As I got ready to leave the house, he was already by my side, holding my hand, his other arm slung casually around my shoulder.

“I promised today would be all about you,” he said, giving me that signature soft smile.

“So, where to first?”

We started with a trip to the mall. At first, I felt a little awkward, hesitant to fully enjoy the experience.

But Lando was like a lovesick puppy, following me from store to store, holding my bags, and insisting I buy anything that caught my eye.

“Do you like this dress?” I asked, holding up a flowy sundress against myself.

“I love it,” he said without hesitation. “But I’d probably love anything on you.”

I rolled my eyes at his smooth comment but couldn’t help the blush creeping up my cheeks. “You’re just saying that.”

“Nope,” he replied, grabbing the dress and adding it to the pile of things he’d insisted on buying.

From clothes to accessories, he didn’t say no to anything.

When I protested, saying he was spending too much, he brushed it off.

“I’d spend everything on you, Y/N,” he said with such sincerity it made my heart ache.

Afterward, he took me to my favorite café for lunch.

The cozy little place was one we often went to in the early days of our relationship, and the nostalgia hit me hard as we sat down.

“I missed this,” I admitted as I sipped my coffee.

“Me too,” Lando said, reaching across the table to hold my hand.

“And I’m going to make sure we never lose this again.”

Next, he surprised me with a visit to a local pottery studio.

I couldn’t help but laugh when Lando struggled to shape a vase, the clay slipping through his fingers.

“Okay, you’re supposed to keep your hands steady,” I teased, leaning over to guide him.

“Oh, so now you’re an expert?” he joked, though his grin softened as I showed him how to shape the clay.

It was messy, chaotic, and perfect.

By the end, we both had clay smudged on our faces, and we were laughing like we hadn’t in weeks.

From there, we stopped at a flower shop.

Lando picked out the biggest bouquet of my favorite flowers, holding it out to me with a boyish grin.

“For you,” he said, like it was the most natural thing in the world.

“You’re really pulling out all the stops today, aren’t you?” I teased, though my heart swelled as I buried my nose in the fragrant blooms.

“Only the best for my girl,” he replied, his tone playful but his eyes serious.

For the rest of the day, he didn’t leave my side.

He held my hand as we walked through the streets, his arm draped protectively around me whenever we stopped to rest.

He peppered me with kisses at every opportunity; on my cheek, my forehead, my temple.

“You’re being extra clingy today,” I said with a small laugh as he pulled me into another hug.

“Making up for lost time,” he murmured, his chin resting on the top of my head.

Bit by bit, the walls I’d built around my heart began to crumble.

His efforts felt genuine, and I found myself smiling more easily, the hurt from the night before slowly fading into the background.

By the time we got home, the sun was setting, painting the sky in soft shades of pink and orange.

We were both tired but happy as we curled up on the couch together.

Lando tucked me under his arm, his fingers gently tracing patterns on my shoulder.

“Y/N,” he said after a long moment of silence.

His tone was serious, and I looked up at him curiously.

“Yeah?”

“I need to say this again because you deserve to hear it,” he began, his voice steady but filled with emotion.

“I’m so sorry for everything, for neglecting you, for forgetting our anniversary, for making you feel like you weren’t my priority. You are my priority, Y/N. You’re the best thing in my life, and I hate that I made you feel otherwise.”

His words hit me straight in the chest, and I felt tears pricking at the corners of my eyes.

“I know I hurt you,” he continued, his hand cupping my cheek as he looked into my eyes.

“But I swear, I’ll spend every day proving how much I love you. I’ll never let you feel like that again.”

My heart felt full as I reached up to hold his hand.

“You’ve done a lot for me today, Lando,” I said softly.

“And it’s helped. I can see how much you mean it.”

“So... does that mean you forgive me?” he asked, his tone hopeful but cautious.

I smiled, leaning up to kiss him. “Yeah, I forgive you.”

The relief on his face was almost comical, and he immediately began peppering my face with kisses, my cheeks, my forehead, my nose, even the corners of my lips.

“Thank you, thank you, thank you,” he murmured between kisses, his joy infectious.

Just when I thought the day was over, Lando suddenly sat up.

“Wait, I have one last thing,” he said, standing and disappearing into the other room.

I frowned, confused, as he returned with a small envelope in hand.

“What is this?” I asked as he handed it to me.

“Open it,” he urged, a playful but nervous glint in his eyes.

I carefully tore open the envelope, and my breath caught as I pulled out two plane tickets.

My eyes widened as I read the destination: Maldives.

“Lando… are you serious?” I asked, my voice trembling with disbelief.

He grinned. “You’ve always said you wanted to go. So, I booked us a two-week stay. Just you and me. No distractions.”

Tears welled in my eyes as I looked at him, overwhelmed.

“You didn’t have to do this…”

“Yes, I did,” he said firmly, pulling me into his arms.

“I’ll do anything to make you happy, Y/N. Anything.”

I hugged him tightly, burying my face in his chest.

“Thank you,” I whispered.

“I love you,” he murmured, pressing a kiss to the top of my head.

“I love you too,” I replied, my voice muffled but sincere.

We settled back into the couch, cuddled up together, the weight of the past few weeks finally lifting.

After a long silence, I broke it with a playful smile.

“If you ever neglect me like that again, I’m breaking up with your ass,” I teased.

Lando laughed, his arms tightening around me. “Fair enough. But don’t worry, I won’t. Not ever again.”

And for the first time in weeks, I believed him.

The end

[aesthetically-dying101]

Wifed up

A/N: im trying this type of thing out, but what happens if the JJk men saw you without your wedding ring? (tbf, im sure this has been done by others before, i sure as hell aren't the first to write this, won't be the last.)im genuinely so scared of posting this lmfao, okay but anyways

Characters: Nanami, Gojo, Geto, Toji, Sukuna, Shiu. (in said order)

Nanami:

Nanami almost got whiplash when he noticed the ring—your wedding ring, for heaven’s sake—wasn’t on your finger.

But when he stepped through the door of your shared home, grocery bags in one hand, jacket slung over his arm, and caught sight of your bare hand…well, he nearly dropped the tomatoes.

It wasn’t like him to jump to conclusions—he prided himself on logic, on maturity. But standing in the doorway of your shared home, the scent of vanilla and butter wafting through the air, his heart skipped a beat for all the wrong reasons. He could see you through the archway leading into the kitchen, flour dusting your forearms, a faint smear of chocolate on your cheek.

You looked radiant, as always. But the empty space on your left hand? That detail stood out sharper than a curse in a crowd.

Nanami’s mind, traitorous for the first time in years, whispered an awful thought: Was she hiding it? Why? What if she’s inviting someone else over while I’m at work?

He hated the thought. Hated that it even crossed his mind. But he was only human—humans with hearts could be irrational, especially when they cared so deeply.

The seconds stretched, but his mind was already racing. His rational side kicked in almost immediately, reminding him that you were probably just taking it off while baking—something harmless, right? You’ve always done that. It’s just a ring.

But... It had been a conversation in the office that kept nagging at him all week. His coworker—someone he’d known for years—had just found out that his wife of ten years had been cheating on him. The betrayal had rocked him to his core, and for the last few days, Nanami had been wondering how something like that could happen. His mind lingered on the idea that a partner could hide something so big, and the doubt, for just a second, crawled into his own relationship. What if you were hiding it too?

He shook his head. Get a grip, Kento. Still, he couldn’t quite quell the question lingering at the edge of his thoughts.

“Y/N,” he called softly, stepping closer.

You turned, a bright smile lighting up your face.

“You’re home early!” you exclaimed, wiping your hands on your apron.

“I am,” he replied, voice steady, though his sharp eyes didn’t miss the bare ring finger you so casually flaunted. “Where’s your ring?”

Your eyes widened in realization.

“Oh, that!” You laughed, waving a hand dismissively. “I took it off while baking. Didn’t want to get dough all over it. It’s right over there.”

You pointed to the windowsill by the sink, where sure enough, both your engagement and wedding rings sat neatly side by side.

Relief flooded him so fast it almost made him dizzy. He nodded, keeping his tone light. “I see. I suppose I should’ve known you wouldn’t be that careless with it.”

“Careless?” You scoffed, playfully offended. “I’m meticulous, thank you very much.”

He smiled faintly, his heart settling back into its usual rhythm. You stepped closer, your grin turning mischievous. Before he could react, your flour-dusted hand slapped his backside with an audible smack.

Nanami froze, incredulous, as you dissolved into laughter.

“There,” you declared between giggles. “I marked my territory. Now wash your hands and help me.”

Nanami followed you after shrugging off his jacket and loosening his tie. He slipped off his own wedding ring and set it carefully beside yours on the counter before rolling up his sleeves. For the next hour, the two of you moved seamlessly, kneading dough and rolling croissants together. The air filled with the warmth of the oven and the soft melody of your laughter.

By the time the pastries were golden and flaky, Nanami leaned against the counter, his hand resting on your lower back. The soft touch quickly turned into something more as his lips brushed your temple, then your cheek. You turned to meet him halfway, mouths molding together in a kiss that deepened quickly, his hands firm against your waist.

Nanami’s lips were warm and urgent against yours, every brush of his mouth sending a shiver down your spine. His hands, once gently resting on your waist, now gripped you tighter, pulling you flush against him as your body aligned in all the right ways.

You could feel the heat building between you, your chest pressed against his as your hands worked on the button of his shirt with determination, your fingers fumbling only slightly as you pushed him further against the counter. He groaned against your lips when you tugged at his tie, undoing it with quick, practiced movements.

“Someone’s eager,” he teased, his voice low and rough, but the words disappeared as your lips traced the edge of his jaw-his perfect jaw, your teeth grazing the sensitive skin of his neck.

“I’ve been waiting all day,” you murmured, hands sliding down to the waistband of his pants. His breath hitched when you unbuckled his belt and slid your hand inside, brushing against him with the kind of intention that made him gasp, his body instinctively bucking into your touch.

You grinned against his skin, the heat of the moment clouding your mind. This wasn’t just about passion—it was about claiming him, showing him with every touch that he was the only one. You slid your hand lower, your fingers grazing him with a teasing pressure that made his breath quicken.

“You’re the only man I need, Nanami Kento,” you whispered, meeting his eyes as you pulled him closer, grinding your hips against his. The friction had your pulse racing, a primal need building in the pit of your stomach.

His hands gripped your hips, pulling you even tighter against him as he kissed you again, this time with a desperation that matched yours. His lips were insistent, almost possessive, as his hands slipped under your shirt, his thumbs brushing against your skin in a way that made you shiver.

The air was thick with heat, your body aching with want, when suddenly—

DING!

The oven timer went off.

You both froze.

The croissants.

“Oh no—!”

You shoved away from him with a frustrated gasp, already heading toward the kitchen, but not before you shot him a glance. “You’re so distracting!”

Nanami watched you, his chest rising and falling as he tried to steady his breath. His eyes darkened with amusement, and he chuckled, running a hand through his hair.

"We'll finish this later, don't worry."

Gojo

Gojo’s feet dragged heavily as he entered the apartment, the door clicking shut behind him with a soft, final sound. The weight of the mission still hung over him—bones aching, mind buzzing with residual adrenaline.

He didn’t want to think about the cursed spirits he'd just fought or the cursed techniques he'd barely been able to avoid using in full force. All he wanted now, all he craved, was the soft familiarity of home.

And you.

His wife.

There you were—curled up on the couch, your form relaxed and peaceful, your face lit by the flickering light of the TV screen. It looked like you'd fallen asleep while watching something, your body sinking into the cushions, soft and beautiful.

But then—

His eyes narrowed.

His eyes immediately fell to your left hand.

Empty.

No wedding ring. No engagement band.

His heart skipped a beat. For a moment, the rest of the world disappeared. The weight of exhaustion, the tightness in his chest, everything—it all vanished in the face of that empty ring finger. His mind instantly went blank, and then... panic.

Where the hell is it?

A thousand questions shot through his head at once, each one more suffocating than the last. His mouth went dry, and he stepped closer to you, his mind reeling. It didn’t make sense. You’d always worn your rings, no matter what.

During the mission he hadn't used his Six Eyes and scan everything in the house, to check on you, but.... He’d been distracted. Too focused on that cursed mission, on the job, on things he shouldn’t have let slip.

His eyes flicked back to your hand, that empty space where your ring should have been. His mind spiraled further into dark thoughts.

She... She took it off? But why?

His heart thudded painfully in his chest. Was this it? Had it finally happened? Was this the moment when everything changed? When you... left him?

He couldn't breathe. He couldn’t think.

Did she meet someone else?

His pulse quickened at the thought. He wanted to scream, to shout, but the silence around him felt suffocating. Every step closer to the couch felt like a thousand pounds pulling him down. He stopped in front of you, staring at your unconscious form, the way you seemed so... peaceful, like everything was fine.

But it wasn’t.

What the hell is going on?

It was almost like a switch had flipped inside him—like something deep within him, something raw and protective, had been triggered. His anger, his fear—it boiled over. It had to be something. She wasn’t just going to forget her rings.

His voice was low, rough, as he bent down close to you, his tone colder than he meant it to be.

"Hey," he said, almost a hiss. "What the fuck is going on?"

His heart clenched at the coldness of his own words, but his fear was all-consuming. He needed answers. Now.

You stirred, your eyelids fluttering open at the sound of his voice, but it was the confusion in your gaze that stopped him for a second. For just a moment, it was like the anger and fear drained out of him, replaced with a spike of guilt. This wasn’t the way to approach you. He wasn’t supposed to be... scaring you. But he couldn’t help it.

What if I’m losing her?

You blinked up at him, your vision still blurry from sleep, but the panic in his eyes didn’t go unnoticed.

"Satoru...?" Your voice was soft, laced with that sweet, familiar confusion he loved. The panic in his eyes, the intensity in the way he stared down at you—it wasn’t the Gojo you were used to. He looked almost... unhinged.

Your heart thudded in your chest as you pushed yourself up slowly, feeling the exhaustion still clinging to your body. There was a fleeting second of fear that rose in you—this wasn’t how he usually acted.

What’s going on?

The man who had always been the first to laugh in the face of danger, the man who could break down any barrier with a joke or a smile, was now standing there—almost trembling. This was no playful teasing. No, there was something else in the way his body stiffened, the way his voice cracked with uncertainty.

His voice was a harsh, cold rasp as he bent down closer, demanding answers he wasn’t sure he wanted.

“What the fuck is going on?” He tried to keep his voice from trembling, "Where’s your ring?"

"Huh? What are you talking about?" Your hand instinctively went to your finger, but it was bare. You frowned. "Oh..." The fog of sleep was lifting now, and the look on his face was making your heart race.

But before you could even say anything else, Gojo’s eyes narrowed, and he straightened up, suddenly tense.

"I’m not playing games, [Y/N]." He could feel the anger bubbling up again, his breath coming faster. "What the hell is going on? You’ve been in this house, and now you’re not wearing it? Are you seriously gonna tell me it’s some accident?" He gestured wildly, his frustration impossible to hide.

You recoiled slightly, caught off guard by his tone. The fear in his voice, the desperation that edged every word, it hit you hard. He was scared.

But you could feel it, too. You could feel the rage he was hiding beneath his frustration, the doubt gnawing at him, the belief that something was wrong—that he wasn’t good enough to keep you.

The thought almost made you ache. You couldn’t believe he’d think that. Gojo Satoru, the strongest sorcerer, so terrified that his wife had... what? Cheated on him?

"Gojo," you whispered, your voice trembling. "I didn’t—I didn’t take it off for any reason like that." You looked at him, trying to calm his rapid breath. "I was cleaning the bathroom earlier... with bleach. I didn’t want to risk damaging the rings, so I took them off and put them in a little dish in there while I worked. I... I must’ve forgotten to put them back on after I collapsed on the couch."

The explanation was so simple, so mundane, that Gojo felt an overwhelming rush of relief flood through him. He closed his eyes and sank back onto the couch, rubbing his face with both hands.

You were just tired.

You hadn’t been out with someone else. You hadn’t thrown away everything they’d built together.

His mind had created a monster out of nothing. He had jumped to conclusions because he was weak, scared of losing the only person who mattered. He wasn’t used to this kind of vulnerability, and yet, here he was, completely unraveling over the thought of you slipping away from him.

"God," he muttered, voice breaking slightly. "I thought you... I thought I wasn’t enough for you. That maybe you'd—"

"Stop," you cut him off, pulling him close with a soft tug on his shirt. You pressed your forehead to his chest, feeling the tension in his shoulders. "Don’t even think that, Satoru." You wrapped your arms around him, grounding him. "You’re my everything. I wouldn’t throw that away."

Gojo’s arms tightened around you, his face buried in your hair as he exhaled a shaky breath. For a moment, neither of you said anything. Just the sound of your breathing and the rhythmic beat of your hearts.

When he finally pulled back, he cupped your face gently, his blue eyes searching yours with a mix of relief and affection. A small smile tugged at his lips.

"Next time," he said softly, almost shyly, "just leave a note. Like, ‘I’m cleaning and definitely not inviting other men over,’ so I don’t go insane."

You rolled your eyes playfully, but you couldn’t help but laugh. "Yeah, I’ll do that."

Gojo pulled you back into his arms, this time much softer, as if the whole world could melt away in this moment. He could feel his heart finally steadying. You were here, you were safe. The rest of it didn’t matter.

He kissed the top of your head, whispering softly, "Just promise me one thing, okay?"

You looked up at him.

"Never scare me like that again."

You smiled, a soft, sleepy smile, and nodded.

"I promise."

Geto:

The last thing on your mind was the delicate gold band around your finger, the symbol of your marriage to Geto, which you had carefully removed so as not to get it covered in dirt.

Geto paced through the entrance, his brow furrowed with a mixture of frustration and curiosity. After being away on business for a few days, the first thing he was told upon his return was that something had happened with you—his wife—and that you weren’t wearing your wedding rings.

Before he could utter a word, one of his cult followers had nervously approached him, eyes wide with anxiety.

"Master Geto... We... we noticed the absence of her rings. The lady—"

"Where is she?" he snapped, his voice low, yet carrying an unsettling edge.

His follower hesitated for just a second before pointing toward the garden. "She's there, with your daughters."

Geto’s heart skipped a beat. He clenched his fists, a flood of emotions threatening to overtake him. Did you really... no, he refused to believe it. You couldn't be removing your rings over something so trivial.

He strode quickly, irritation bubbling beneath his calm exterior. As he reached the garden, the sight before him stopped him in his tracks.

There you were, kneeling on the soft earth, laughing as his daughters ran circles around you, their giggles filling the air. You were covered in dirt from working in the garden all day.

You glanced up and saw him standing there, eyes dark with unspoken words. He was staring at you with a strange intensity.

“Suguru,” you said, wiping dirt from your cheek, and then you noticed the look in his eyes. His pupils were dilated, hands gripping the edge of the stone wall with white-knuckled intensity. “What’s the matter?”

His gaze dropped to your bare fingers before snapping back to your face.

"Why are you not wearing your rings?" he asked, his tone colder than usual.

You blinked. The question caught you off guard, and a wave of amusement flooded over you.

“What?” you asked, incredulity mixed with humor. "I just didn’t want to get them dirty. I’ve been in the garden all day with the girls.”

His eyes narrowed in disbelief. "You think I care about that?" His voice rose a little, frustration bubbling to the surface. "You don't understand... how much it means to me—"

You stood up slowly, brushing your hands off and laughing softly. “Suguru, calm down. You’re acting like I’ve sold the rings for magic potions or something,” you teased, holding them out to him with a playful grin.

The sudden tension in the air seemed to break with your words. He stared at the rings, then back at you, his expression wavering between annoyance and relief. He wasn’t sure whether to be mad or laugh at himself for overreacting.

But when you walked toward him, digging in your pocket, then placing the rings back on his hand with an amused smirk, he couldn’t help but release a breath he didn’t know he was holding. His arms pulled you into a tight embrace, his chin resting against the top of your head.

"I was worried, okay?" he muttered. "I've done so much for you, and I... I couldn’t figure out what was going on."

You snorted, wrapping your arms around him. "You’re a disaster sometimes, you know that?"

"I’m just... protective," he mumbled, his voice now laced with a touch of vulnerability.

"You’re sweet," you said, smiling up at him, "but a little too protective for your own good sometimes."

He rolled his eyes but couldn’t stop the small, tender smile from forming on his lips.

“I can’t help it when it comes to you... And these,” he added, tapping the rings, “are more important than you realize.”

You chuckled softly, your fingers tracing the edges of his rings.

"I know, Suguru. But I’m not going anywhere. I just didn’t want to ruin them in the dirt. I still love you just as much."

His hands gently cupped your face as he gazed down at you. “I know. But if you ever take them off again, make sure I’m there when you do."

You raised an eyebrow. “You want to be the one to take them off for me?” you teased.

A smile tugged at his lips. “Maybe I’ll start taking them off myself, then.”

You laughed, reaching up to kiss him lightly on the lips. His arms tightened around you, the world outside of the garden fading into the background.

Your laugh echoed in the air, soft and sweet, as the tension between you melted into a comfortable warmth. Suguru leaned his forehead against yours, his breath a little ragged from the release of his worries.

"You're impossible, you know that?" you whispered, pressing your lips against his.

"Only when it comes to you," he replied softly, his smile genuine and fond. "But I love you anyway."

Toji:

It was a late afternoon when Toji returned home, exhausted but relieved to be done with another job. He stepped into the quiet apartment, the faint smell of Megumi’s favorite snacks still lingering in the air. It had been a good day for the boy, he’d told Toji earlier that he’d had fun at the park with you.

Toji was just about to toss his jacket aside and relax when something on the bathroom counter caught his eye. His wedding ring. But... not hers. Her band was sitting alone next to the sink, glinting in the dim light, empty.

His heart skipped a beat.

His stomach twisted. He couldn’t breathe for a second.

He picked up her ring, turning it over in his hands as if some answer would magically appear. But nothing came. The silence in the bathroom was suffocating, and his chest began to tighten as his mind spiraled into chaos.

She wouldn't... But the thought was there, like a seed growing inside him.

Shit. Not again.

It had happened once before—his ex, the woman who had broken his trust in ways that still haunted him. That memory burned his skin like acid as the anger surged through him. He could feel the old rage coming back, the bitterness of betrayal cutting deeper than ever before.

He paced in a circle, trying to make sense of it. His mind raced—had she really gone that far? Were they just another statistic, another couple destroyed by his own mistrust? He couldn’t imagine it. Not with her.

But there it was: the absence of her ring. What else was he supposed to think?

His hands trembled as he grabbed his phone, fists clenching around it as he typed out a text to Shiu: She’s gone. I fucking knew it. Packing. She’s been seeing someone else.

The words were harsh, but they felt right in the moment. The ring was gone, the reminder of what they had was now nothing but a cruel joke. He stormed into the bedroom, ripping open the closet doors. His mind was working too fast to think straight—he started shoving clothes into a bag, his chest tight. He should have never trusted her. Never allowed himself to be vulnerable.

He allowed her to become a stepmother to Megumi, let her get close to his son. And now, this. How could I be so stupid? he thought bitterly.

Toji’s blood boiled, and his mind spiraled further into the pit of grief and disbelief. He’d let his guard down, let her become a part of his life, a part of his family, and now this? He slammed a fist against the wall, shaking with fury.

An hour passed. He didn’t care. The world outside continued as usual, but in here, in his heart, everything was falling apart. He couldn’t do this again. He wasn’t going to let someone else ruin him.

Then, the sound of the door clicking open interrupted his spiral.

He turned, eyes wild, ready to unleash all of his pent-up rage.

And then he saw you. Megumi was holding your hand, looking at him confused, but his gaze didn’t linger long on the kid.

“Is everything okay?” she asked cautiously, eyeing the half-packed bag by the door.

"Where the hell is your ring?" Toji's voice was low, laced with the venom he was trying to suppress. He crossed his arms over his chest, staring her down. "Where's your fucking wedding ring?"

She blinked at him. "What?"

Toji's glare didn’t soften, and he lifted her ring from the counter, letting it dangle between his fingers. "I thought we were past this bullshit. Thought you’d at least have the decency to—"

She deadpanned, and without a word, raised her hand to his face. His eyes followed her hand, expecting some gesture of defiance, some excuse. But then he froze, seeing the bandaged pinky and ring finger on her hand, the fabric wrapped tightly in place.

Her gaze was flat, her voice devoid of humor as she stated, “I didn’t want to lose my damn finger. It’s swollen, and I couldn’t take the risk of it getting worse. I thought you’d be worried about that.”

Toji stared at her hand, feeling the rage that had consumed him moments before start to fade, replaced by a dull ache in his chest.

“You—” He couldn’t even form a coherent sentence. He dropped her ring back onto the counter, as if the weight of it suddenly felt too much.

“Shit,” he muttered under his breath, his head lowering, suddenly feeling like a fool. His fists unclenched, and he rubbed the back of his neck. He couldn’t even look you in the eyes right now, but his voice cracked with regret. “I thought... I thought you were—”

"Cheating on you?" You finished the sentence for him with a quiet, amused tone, raising an eyebrow. You slowly walked over to him, your expression softening.

“Yeah,” he said, unable to hide the embarrassment in his voice. “I fucked up, huh?”

You chuckled, shaking your head.

“Toji... really? You thought I was gonna leave?” You scoffed and rolled your eyes, “I’ll make you dinner, okay? Just... next time, try asking before packing your bags.”

He let out a defeated sigh, finally lifting his eyes to meet yours. “Yeah, yeah. I overreacted. I’m sorry, sweetheart.”

You kissed him... which quickly turned into more, until:

"Ew."

You broke the kiss, laughing lightly.

Sukuna:

It was an ordinary day at the palace—at least, that’s what it seemed like. The sun streamed through the large paper windows, casting a soft light on the traditional tatami mats, where you were seated, diligently working on your calligraphy with Uraume. The brush glided over the paper as the delicate strokes formed beautiful characters, ink staining the tips of your fingers as you focused.

Your wedding ring, that simple yet precious band that bound you to the King of Curses, was nowhere to be seen. It was placed on the nearby wooden table to avoid smudging ink on its gleaming surface.

Sukuna’s voice broke the silence.

"Where is it?"

The low, thunderous tone could only mean one thing: Sukuna was furious. His eyes—four of them—narrowed as they scanned you, focusing on your left hand where the ring should’ve been. His breath quickened as the pressure in the room thickened.

Uraume, sensing the tension, stepped back slowly, not daring to make a sound. You, however, remained seated, doing your best to hide the small smile tugging at your lips. You couldn’t help it—Sukuna? Jealous? Oh, this was going to be entertaining.

"What are you talking about?" you asked innocently, not lifting your gaze from the ink-stained paper.

"The ring, woman," Sukuna growled. "You know exactly what I mean. Where is it?" His voice shook with a barely contained fury as he approached.

You could almost feel the heat radiating off of him. The air around him crackled with murderous intent, but it was impossible to ignore the mix of frustration and… confusion? Ah, he didn’t know what to think, and that only made it funnier.

"I left it off for now," you replied casually, trying to mask your amusement. "I didn’t want to get ink on it while I was working with Uraume."

"Don’t lie," Sukuna hissed, his four arms crossing tightly in front of him. "You’re telling me you, a lowly human, can’t even remember where you left your precious wedding ring?" His voice was cutting, sharp as a blade.

You almost snorted, but you swallowed the laugh just in time. Oh, Sukuna really was something else when he was jealous. The sheer audacity of him to think you’d even remotely be unfaithful was beyond hilarious.

You stood up slowly, turning to face him as he loomed over you like an ominous cloud. His eyes were wild, like he was ready to destroy everything in his path.

"Is that why you’re so upset?" you teased, the corners of your mouth curling up. "You really think I would take off my ring to… go play around with someone else?"

Sukuna’s gaze flickered. His four arms twitched as if to lash out at you, but he held himself back. The tension in the air was suffocating.

"Don’t play with me," he growled, his voice dripping with venom. "What kind of fool do you think I am?"

You couldn’t help yourself anymore. The laughter bubbled up inside you, and you laughed, covering your mouth as you did so. Sukuna stared at you, his eyes burning with confusion and fury. He looked like a king who’d just been betrayed, but somehow even more terrifying in that moment.

"Oh, come on," you teased further, walking up to him and standing on tiptoe to whisper in his ear. "You didn’t seem to think I was a ‘lowly human’ a couple of days ago when you were pounding into me like a savage."

Sukuna’s eyes widened in surprise, and his face turned a shade darker, his body stiffening with rage.

"Don’t you dare," he spat, his four arms reaching out and grabbing you by the waist with a force that would make most humans break. But you? You weren’t just any human. You were his human.

"And now you’re talking about it?" he demanded, his voice dangerously low. "You’re trying to make me look like a fool, huh?"

Despite his anger, you couldn’t suppress your grin.

"You’re the one who’s acting like a fool, Sukuna. Jealousy doesn’t suit you."

His eyes narrowed further, but he didn’t admit he was wrong. No, he wouldn’t do that. Instead, with one swift motion, he picked you up, his grip unyielding. His four arms surrounded you, holding you close.

"You’re lucky I don’t kill every single person in this palace for daring to let you out of my sight without that damn ring on your finger," he muttered through gritted teeth.

You couldn’t help but chuckle softly. The fact that Sukuna—the Sukuna—was losing his temper over something as trivial as a ring was almost too ridiculous. Almost.

"All this over a ring?" you asked, raising an eyebrow, still smiling. "Really, Sukuna? You almost killed everyone because I took off my ring for a couple of hours?"

He didn’t respond, but his grip tightened around you, lifting you effortlessly and carrying you toward your shared quarters. As he walked, you wrapped your arms around his neck, not able to stop the teasing smile on your face.

"You’re kind of cute when you're jealous, you know that?" you teased, nuzzling his neck lightly.

Sukuna’s eyes flickered to you, the hint of a growl rumbling in his chest, but he didn’t say anything. The king of curses was undeniably a jealous man, even if he refused to admit it.

And when he finally laid you down on the futon in your quarters, his hands were soft—almost gentle—as he placed a hand on your cheek, his expression still dark but… not as angry as before.

"I’m not going to let you out of my sight again," he murmured, eyes burning with possessiveness. "You’re mine."

You smiled, reaching up to touch his face. "I’m yours," you whispered back.

And just like that, all the tension in the air seemed to melt away, leaving only the comfort of being together.

Shiu:

Shiu Kong was not a man prone to sentimental gestures or overt displays of affection. His love was quiet, steady, and often hidden beneath his sharp tongue and stern demeanor. But he was observant—painfully so. It was this keen eye for detail that had always served him well in his work. Today, however, it left him grappling with a tight knot of unease that coiled around his chest like a curse.

You hadn’t been wearing your wedding ring.

Shiu noticed it that morning when he passed you in the kitchen. You were distracted, bustling around with your usual energy, and when you handed him his coffee, his sharp eyes caught the faint, bare line on your finger.

No glint of the ring he’d placed there.

It wasn’t like you to forget something like that. Shiu wasn’t the type to jump to conclusions, but the thought nagged at him throughout the day. The image of your bare hand replayed in his mind as he handled the paperwork on his desk, and when the hours dragged on, so did his thoughts.

Were you upset about something? Did the ring bother you? Or—no, that was ridiculous—was it deliberate?

His workday felt endless. By the time he stepped into the apartment, his shoulders were tight with tension. Shiu kicked off his shoes and loosened his tie, his heart heavier than he cared to admit.

“Hey,” you called from the kitchen, bright and cheerful. “You’re home! Dinner’s almost ready.”

He stepped into the room, leaning casually against the doorframe. But you knew him too well to miss the way his brow furrowed or the faint stiffness in his posture.

“You okay?” you asked, tilting your head.

Shiu’s lips pressed into a thin line. He never shied away from confrontation, but this… he wasn’t sure how to phrase it. Still, he was Shiu Kong, and hesitation wasn’t in his nature.

“You weren’t wearing your ring this morning,” he said bluntly, his voice even but laced with an edge of something vulnerable.

You blinked, startled, before looking down at your hand as if just realizing the absence yourself. “Oh!” You quickly held up both hands, palms open. “It’s not what you think. I took them to the jeweler to get cleaned today. I didn’t want to forget and leave them on, so I took them off last night.”

His gaze softened, the tension in his shoulders easing as he exhaled a slow, almost imperceptible breath. “That’s it?”

“Of course that’s it!” you said, laughing. “What, did you think I was mad at you or something?”

Shiu clicked his tongue, his usual deadpan expression returning, though the faintest flicker of relief danced in his eyes. “Tch. You could’ve mentioned it. I’m not a mind reader, you know.”

You stepped closer, reaching for his hand and squeezing it with a warm smile. “Sorry, I didn’t think it’d be such a big deal. I’ll make it up to you. Promise.”

You winked and he grumbled something under his breath, but his fingers curled around yours, holding on just a little tighter than usual.

Later that night, when you slipped the ring back onto your finger and flashed it proudly at him, Shiu allowed himself the barest smirk. He didn’t say anything, of course, but the way his hand lingered on your back when he walked past spoke volumes.

Maybe he wasn’t the romantic type, but damn if he didn’t love seeing that ring on your finger.

A/N: oki so this was an attempt, i dunno if this is any good but hey, you live you learn

Masterlist

:)

[letsbangts]

answer your phone || jjk

⤷ summary: when the consequences of his actions come calling

⟡ sequel to mutt ⟡

⟶ pairing: jungkook x reader

⟶ word count: 12.8k+ (I couldn’t stop 😳)

18+ // mdni

⟶ genre: angst, smut, fluff, friends with benefits au

⟶ content: fuckboy!jk, tattooartist!jk, jk is on a downward spiral (it's what he deserves), oc is struggling as well, taehyung is the shoulder to lean on everyone deserves

⟶ warnings: explicit language, explicit sexual content: kissing/making out, groping, protected sex, nipple play, oral (m. & f. receiving), markings (hickeys & other bruising), a bit of dirty talk & praising, fingering, teasing, multiple orgasms…I think that’s it?

↬ a/n: HERE IT IS MUTT PT 2! firstly I want to say thank you for all the love & support i received on pt 1 it truly meant so much to me ♡ OKAY so you all wanted #justiceforoc and to see jk grovel so the tables have definitely turned on him ;). angel xoxo

↬ a/n2: p.s the flashbacks are indicated by the arrows (《,》)

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Answer your phone I've got to talk to you

Jungkook is sitting on his couch with a girl's lips all over his neck and her hands all over his body, but his eyes are fixed on his cell phone lying on the coffee table. Instead of focusing on how her tongue is licking at his throat or how her hands grope him through his pants, he can only focus on you.

He stares at the phone that won't ring, at least not with you on the other end. It has been over a month since you stormed out of his place. At first, he left you alone and didn't try to reach out because he thought you needed to cool off. Jungkook has dealt with this hot and cold shit with others before; he knows they’ll be back eventually, whether he makes any effort or not. And it’s so much easier not to. But he has been calling you for weeks now with no success.

This past month, Jungkook has been with a handful of women, hoping to feel something, but he hasn't. Not even with the aid of an empty bottle or a joint— and he's certainly had plenty of both— nothing makes him feel as good as you do. Whether it's getting his dick sucked by any of the random women he’s taken into the bathroom of a club or bending one over in the backseat of his car in the parking lot of the tattoo studio, getting on top of someone else to distract him from you hasn’t helped as he thought it would.

Even though the girl with him right now is attractive, with a nice body and a skilful set of hands, he is trapped in his thoughts. He’s annoyed that her lips don't send tingles down his body like yours do, that her hands aren't as soft as your own and that she doesn't have her fingers running through his hair the way you do.

He misses you.

He pries the girl's hands off him and pushes her back as he lets out a deep sigh. She looks at him with a confused expression.

Jungkook licks his lips and, without looking at her, says, "I think we better stop; you should go."

The girl attempts a seductive smile as she moves to unbuckle his belt.

"Stop? We haven't even started anything. Come on, I'll make you feel good, big boy."

Jungkook rips her hands off of his belt, he rubs his hands over his face in frustration.

"Look, I'm just not feeling this, okay?" he says exasperated.

The girl's face drops and her whole demeanour changes.

"Are you fucking serious, Jungkook? Not feeling this? Can you not get it up or something? Is your dick really that pathetic?" she snarks, her eyes scanning him up and down.

He gives her a pointed look with his pierced eyebrow raised as he rolls his tongue against the inside of his cheek and chuckles bitterly. He shakes his head, sniffs, and sits up straighter.

"Okay, listen here, Emilia—"

"It's Emily!"

"Whatever the fuck your name is, I don't care. I tried to be nice about this, but if you want to provoke me, that's fine. You're right; I can't get it up because I can't even pretend for a goddamn moment that you turn me on, not even in the slightest, so get your ass out of my fucking house," he sneers through clenched teeth.

Right after Jungkook finished speaking, he felt a sting on his cheek. The response to his words was a sharp slap to his face and, once again, another upset girl storming out of his place, slamming the door behind her.

Jungkook shuts his eyes and takes a deep breath through his nose. A metallic taste begins to form in his mouth; he must have bitten the inside of his cheek on impact. He rises to his feet and walks to the bathroom. He leans over the sink, gripping the porcelain edge as he spits out blood. Jungkook stares at himself in the mirror and runs a hand over his reddened cheek, marked with a fresh cut from the girl's ring-clad hand.

He isn't bothered that the girl is upset because he doesn't care about her. Jungkook couldn't care less about whether he was an asshole to Emma; all he cares about is you and how he needs to talk to you.

Answer your phone Give me a minute, please Has your heart turned to stone? Have you no sympathy?

He has texted and called you an embarrassing number of times, waiting with every ring to see if you'd pick up so that he could hear your sweet voice. And he does, but only when he's met with your voicemail — "Hey, this is Y/N. Sorry, I missed your call. Please leave me a message, and I will get back to you as soon as possible. Thanks!"— which is a lie because you never do. Still, he leaves voice messages, hoping you will listen to them and call him back. He hopes that with every call, his persistence will make you curious enough to answer and talk to him—even if only for a minute.

Jungkook turns on the tap and washes his face; the cool water momentarily clears his head. However, once he raises his head and looks at his reflection again, his fringe drips with water, droplets falling onto his shirt. He is overwhelmed by the thought of you all over again.

He knows you can't be too mad at him because you haven't blocked him—not his number or on social media. This is how he knows you're not that hung up on what happened since he sees you posting, whether casually going out for coffee or all dressed up to go party with your friends; regardless, in all of them, you look stunningly beautiful.

This makes him miss you even more and makes him unsure if blocking him might have been better since Jungkook has seen some guys in your posts and noticed how they sometimes have an arm around you or how you lean in a little bit too close to them for his liking. He wonders if they are just friends; even if they are, he's sure they want to be more. Have they tried anything with you? Are you dressing up like that for one of those guys? Are you trying to move on with one of them? Is that the reason you're ignoring him?

The thought alone of you with someone else drives him crazy, but having to see you with some guy who probably doesn't even know you that well makes him furious. Jungkook knows you better than any one of those chumps could, yet they get to be around you while he is stuck looking at your angelic face beside some happy idiot through a screen like a loser.

Jungkook bets none of those guys know that you hum while getting ready, don't know that when you're in the car while it's raining you turn off the radio to listen to it fall, don't know that you can't sleep wearing pants or socks, don't know that you hate drinking room temperature water, don't know that you do this adorable little happy dance when you really like the food you're eating, and bets they don't know that the guy who put that tattoo on your hip has fucked you every way under the sun.

Shit. He misses you.

Misses how you would thread your fingers through his hair, scratching softly at his scalp while he had his head in your lap as you both watched TV, misses how you would listen to him complain about a client while you fiddled with his earring but with such attentive eyes that showed you were paying attention, misses how you would scrunch your nose and blush when he made a flirty comment, misses how you would somehow take the pressure of the day off him simply by hugging him.

Why won't you answer? Why won't you give him a proper chance to explain himself and apologize? Did all your feelings for him vanish; has your heart just turned to stone? Don't you see how hard he's trying? Don't you have any sympathy for him?

Upon realizing that his teeth are grinding together and his fists are clenched so tightly that his knuckles have turned white, he pulls himself together, relaxing all his muscles, and heads back to the living room with determination.

Jungkook grabs his phone off the coffee table before sitting on his couch. With his elbows resting on his knees, he goes to his call log filled with your name and presses it, lifting the phone to his ear as he listens to the ringing for the umpteenth time.

I know I fucked this up I know I let you down But I've suffered long enough And you're still not around

He bites his nails while tapping his foot anxiously; he concentrates on what seems like endless ringing. His eyes glance at the clock. You should be home from work by this time, he thinks. When your voice finally comes through—voicemail, of course. Jungkook didn't honestly expect anything else.  

He leans back, tips his head back against the backrest, and shuts his eyes for a second, trying to keep up with the rapid pace of his thoughts, and when he hears the beep of the answering machine, all those thoughts spill out of his mouth.

I know I don't deserve it But please have some mercy 'Cause I just might die if you don't

Y/N POV

You hold your buzzing phone in your hand and watch as the screen dims once it's finished, only to light up a few seconds later with a notification about a voicemail.

You hit on the notification and bring your phone to your ear, you bite your lip when you hear the deep voice of the man you've been keeping at bay.

"Hey Y/N, I don't know if you even listen to my messages anymore or if you ever did, but I'm not going to give up. I'm sorry, I know I fucked up and I know I let you down, but—fuck, Y/N, I miss you so goddamn much. It feels like I've been suffering for so long like there is this knife that's buried in my chest and keeps twisting the more time you're not around. I know I don't deserve it, but please have some mercy and answer me. Fucking shout at me and curse me out. Answer me and don't say anything— stay silent if you want, but just answer me, please. I need to hear your voice, or see you, something—anything, because this is beginning to feel like a slow, painful death."

You sigh as you lower the phone from your ear, swallowing the lump in your throat. You've never heard his voice so shaky; you've never experienced Jungkook being anything but confident.

Jungkook has been persistent in reaching out, and you have told yourself you must be just as persistent in your resolve not to answer. This past month has been devoid of any trace of him, but just because he hurt you doesn't mean all your feelings for him have vanished. It's been hard on you; many times your thumb has hovered over the accept button when he called, but by the time you contemplate it, the call has already gone to voicemail.

Regarding that night, you have calmed down significantly since leaving his place feeling angry and upset. You have thought it over countless times, and although you still don't condone what he did, you genuinely believe he didn't act with ill intent. You just expected more from him; he always told you how it was different with you, that you meant more to him than anyone else. Only to then treat you like any other one of his insignificant flings. It made you question if you were so whipped for him that you failed to see he viewed you as a girl easy to fool. But you know Jungkook is more than just that one night; he may have disappointed you, but there have been many times he hasn't.

You have ignored every attempt he made to communicate with you; yet, you haven't blocked him on anything—it feels too final. Instead, you have been keeping yourself occupied. When you're not working, you've been going out with friends, reminding yourself of who you were before Jungkook. Of course, you didn't completely ignore your friends when he came into your life, but he did take up a big part of your free time.

They knew about him as well; while they may not have known all the dirty details of your relationship, they did know that you spent a lot of time with him and enjoyed doing so. And if you were happy, so were they. So when you replied in the group chat that you'd be joining them for a night out, they were shocked but didn't ask any questions. They were excited to have the gang together and didn't hesitate to ensure you had a good time.

Usually, you'd spend your weekends with Jungkook since you both were off then. You would be tangled in his sheets, a sweaty mess put in various positions inducing multiple orgasms. You had forgotten the thrill of being in the middle of a crowded dance floor, sweat rolling down your body from the heat of so many bodies so close together. Throwing back countless shots, you and your friends could barely dance in your heels and tight dresses without stumbling over.

You'd also forgotten how much male attention you receive when going out and mingling with new people. Although there are still many creeps around—for whom you had to get your guy friends to come to your rescue—sometimes there would be someone who seemed harmless enough to flirt with, but then you would remember a certain doe-eyed, dimpled-smiled man and would turn them down.

One time, when you had used your friend Taehyung as an escape from an otherwise seemingly good guy, pulling him behind you and wrapping his arms around your dancing figure for protection, he asked you why you didn't go for it. That was when you opened up and told him the full story about you and Jungkook. Taehyung has been a caring and understanding person for as long as you have known him, and he empathized with you when you explained your feelings and complicated situationship.

Since that night, he has been your confidant, your shoulder to lean on. He has witnessed firsthand how this month has not been easy for you, no matter how much you tried to forget about your fuck buddy/friend. After hearing about the detailed story of the last night you spent with Jungkook, he has been vocal about how you deserve someone who wants to be with only you and that you are more than enough. Yet, he never judges you and understands that you know a different side of Jungkook.

You know the Jungkook who moved all the mugs to the lowest shelf in his cupboard so that you could reach them, the Jungkook who sings loudly in the shower, the Jungkook who when he first falls asleep starts twitching with a cute, peaceful smile on his face.

You miss him.

You've passed the tattoo studio on your way home, stared at that flashing neon-red sign, and thought how all it would take to see him is for you to step through that door; if you just walked in and talked to him, maybe everything could turn around in your favour. You both could patch things up and be happy. You could be together.

You've looked through that window from afar, hoping to catch sight of the pierced, tattoo-covered man, reminiscing about when you were on the other side with him.

✧ ──── 《《 ──── ✧

The bell of his studio dings, signalling your entry. At the counter stands the pierced, tattoo-covered man you came for. He looks up from the book with his scheduled appointments, and when his eyes land on you, he flashes you that big, dimpled smile, the corners of his tired eyes crinkling in delight.

"Hey, baby. I wasn't expecting you. What are you doing here so late?"  

He drops his pen onto the book and rounds the counter, meeting you halfway. His lips press against yours in a quick kiss as his hands settle on your waist while yours find their way around his neck, playing with the ends of his hair.

"I could ask you the same thing. When you texted that you were still here, I thought I would stop by to see you," you shrug.

Jungkook sighs and gives you a tight-lipped smile, lifting a hand to brush through his hair.

"My last client of the day cancelled on me, so I decided to stay back and work on some designs. I sent the others home, and I guess the time got away from me," he scratches the back of his neck.

"Mmm, handsome and hard-working, what a catch," you smile and tiptoe to give his cheek a peck.

"I don't want to disturb you, though. Should I go?" you continue, rubbing your hands up and down his chest.

Jungkook shakes his head as he removes your hands from his chest.

"No, stay. I could use your presence; it has been a stressful day."

He walks over to the studio's entrance, flips the open sign, locks the door, and pulls down the blinds, now closing for the day. Lastly, he switches off the main lights, leaving only the multiple neon lights on the walls in various designs and colours to keep you from darkness.

He takes one of your hands into his, interlocking your fingers, and leads you through the dimly lit room to behind the counter, and to the desk you've seen him work at many times. He rolls out his chair and sits at his desk, looks up at you, and pats his thigh, and you comply with his silent request. You sit, his muscular thighs between your legs. He puts one arm around you, holding your waist to keep you steady, while his other arm rests on your thigh, his chin resting on your shoulder.

Once in his lap, you look at the glance over the wooden surface covered with scattered papers, all filled with his artwork. Some designs are drawn with intricate detail, while others are simple sketches. But they are all equally impressive—sometimes you forget how talented Jungkook is.

"Oh my gosh, Kook! These are amazing!" you gasp, picking up one of the sheets and turning your head to look at him.

He takes the paper from your hands and places it back on the desk. You see the tips of his ears turning red.

"They're alright," he shrugs; you notice he seems sullen.

You turn in his hold, your body sideways on his lap, and you wrap your arms around his shoulders.

"What has got you so stressed out?" you ask, pushing back his fringe before moving your hand to fiddle with his earring.

Jungkook closes his eyes at the feel of your touch, exhaling a breath in relief. He leans forward, rests his forehead on your shoulder and hugs you tight.

"I just—that client, that was the fifth cancellation this month. I don't understand why; we had several consultations, and I listened to all his requests. I showed him so many different design options that I had sketched for him. I don't know maybe I—maybe I lost my touch or something."

"Hey, now that's not true; this stuff is unbelievable, Kook." you gesture at the multiple illustrations on his desk. "And you have been completely booked up with back-to-back appointments every day, I have never seen you so busy."

You tug on his hair and he whines, nuzzling his face into the crook of your neck and pulling you closer.

"Plus, do you think I would let a guy who's lost his touch anywhere near my skin with even a drop of ink?" you tease, your lips brushing his ear.

"That was months ago," he mumbles into your neck, and you feel the coolness of his lip rings against your skin.

“Yeah, and I would still let you be the one to do it."

Jungkook looks up at you as he argues, “Not like I’m going to let anyone touch you besides me.”  

You boop his nose with your own, which makes him chuckle.

“I’m serious, Jungkook. You are passionate about your job, and it shows in your artwork. You are such a talented artist, people see your pieces online and come from all different places just to get inked by you. You. Because you are fucking Jeon Jungkook,” you poke at his chest.

“Okay, okay,” he smiles softly as he brings your hand to his lips, kissing it gently. “How do you always know what to say to calm me down?”

Your eyes sparkle at his question, and you smile gently as you hold his cheek, your thumb caressing the soft skin while pressing your forehead to his. “I know you. Everything I said is simply the truth.”  

Jungkook’s mouth parts slightly in surprise, but his gaze softens. You weren’t sure due to the low lighting in the room, but his cheeks seemed to flush as well. 

"Thank you, baby,” he says almost shyly, and you couldn’t believe this was the same man who flirts with you so shamelessly at every chance he gets, nor the same man who has had you screaming in pleasure several times a night.

There are many sides to Jungkook, and you adored all of them.

You wrap your arms around his torso, embracing him tightly, burying your face in his neck, and he hugs your waist just as firmly, kissing your forehead.

You both sit like that for a while, and your breathing becomes in sync as if your bodies had become one.

“I-I'm…I'm glad you came here,” he clears his throat as his arms tighten around your waist, basking in your warmth and comfort.

Jungkook has vented to you about work before, but this time, it feels different. You’ve never seen him like this.

"I'm here anytime you need to talk, Kook," you reassure.

“Well, that's good to know…” He said with a nervous smile. “But I meant…I'm glad you came here that day to get your tattoo, that you came into my life.”

Your body freezes momentarily at his words, but soon a fire ignites in your heart and spreads throughout you. You are filled with pride and relief that he feels comfortable and trusts you enough to share his personal feelings so openly.

"I'm glad I did too," you whisper, "I meant what I said though, I'm here if you ever need to talk."

“Okay,” he whispers, “Okay. But on one condition.”

"What?"

He tilts his head to look down at you, you look up at him through your lashes.

"You have to come and hold me like this when I do."

"Deal," you giggle.

"Seal it with a kiss," he leans down slightly.

You lift your head and meet his lips in an emotional kiss which soon turned more heated as your tongues mingled together.

You move down his body, kneeling between his thighs. Your hands grip his belt, and Jungkook pants lightly, his anticipation and need high. You unbuckle it and unbutton his jeans effortlessly, then quickly pull them down far enough for his bulge to be exposed. As expected, he is already hard for you. The effect you have on him is always intense. You glance up at the heavy-breathing man above you, eyes hooded and bottom lip caught between his teeth.

You shift your focus from his bulge to his t-shirt, gripping it by the hem and pulling it up. When he realizes what you want, he assists you; he sits up a little, grabbing the back of the collar and pulling it over his head with one hand, fully exposing his toned core. Just like that, his shirt is off, and he tosses it to the floor to be found later.  

Your hands create goosebumps across his exposed skin as they brush against his lower abdomen when you grab the hem of his boxers and pull them down. His erection springs up and rests against his abdomen, impatient for your touch.

At the sight of his big, veiny dick, you unconsciously drag your tongue along your upper lip. You quickly remove his jeans and boxers, along with your shirt, leaving you in your bra, panties, and skirt.

Your hand wraps around his shaft, and your thumb swipes across his head, smoothing the precum over his length to make it feel better. You stroke him gently a couple of times before leaning down and placing a soft kiss against the tip of his cock. Jungkook hisses at the sensation, and he throws his head back.

You slowly begin to move your hand up and down his cock; you enjoy building him up gradually and prolonging his release. A knowing look flashes across his eyes when he discovers what you are doing. He chuckles, and then you swirl your tongue around his head, causing the smile to fall from his face immediately as his hand grips the sides of the chair.

“D-don’t tease,” he breathes heavily.

Your lips curve up into a barely noticeable smile at his reaction. You lick him from the base of his length to the top, swirling your tongue around his head once more before slowly pushing him between your lips and going down on him, your tongue pressing against his hardness as you take him in.

His abs clench at the contact, and a moan slips past his lips, “Fuck, yeah." 

You glimpse up at him; his eyes are closed tightly, and sweat is forming on his golden skin, the exact way you like seeing him when you suck him off. The fact that you could affect him like that without even doing very much boosts you with confidence.

You start moving back up slowly, your hand wrapping around the base of his shaft and squeezing him gently, earning a whimper. You repeat your movements with eagerness.

You love giving him head, hearing his moans of pleasure, having him fall apart at your touch.

After a few rougher squeezes from your hand, you suck harder and take as much of him as you can into your mouth, using your hand to pump the rest of him that you can’t fit.

"Feel good?" you ask the obvious question.

He whines and raises his hand to your hair, pushing his fingers through the locks and out of your face. “That feels so good," he rasps.

You hum around his dick; you look up and find him already gazing down at you, his eyes dark with lust—an image you will carry with you to your grave.

You flutter your eyelashes at him and take him even deeper, fully engulfing his dick, his tip hitting the back of your throat each time you bob your head. 

Jungkook gulps and his eyes roll back in his head. You feel his hands tangle in your hair, pulling slightly as his hips thrust up into your mouth on instinct.

You go back to slowly moving your hand up and down his length, and it lasts for a few seconds until his hands are over yours, stopping you. Before you can question him, he takes your head in a tight hold and forces you to move faster, his large hands enveloping your head. He gently pushes down against your head until his entire cock is in your mouth and holds you there, your nose touching his pelvis. Your eyes water, but you power through, breathing deeply through your nose.

The man appears to be in pure bliss. His thighs are shaking, and his eyes are blinking rapidly, trying hard to stay open. His mouth is agape as he releases breathy moans, his chest heaving up and down.

“Your mouth feels so good, baby, fuck,” he growls.

When he is satisfied, he pulls you up off of his cock and removes his hands. You pop back up and let go of his throbbing length, a string of saliva briefly connecting your mouth to his tip. You gasp for air with tears streaming down your face, and you wipe your mouth with the back of your hand.

“Always such a good girl for me, aren't you?” he says, lifting your chin and wiping your wet cheeks.

You nod with a sniff, your eyes still glassy.

Jungkook suddenly reaches forward to grab your hips and pulls you onto his lap. You quickly straddle him, your hands pressing against his chest as you grind softly against his dick. His lips crash into yours in a messy kiss; it lasts for a little while before he pulls away and looks straight at you, “You know I love having your mouth around me, baby, but I need to be inside you." 

Then he’s capturing your lips once more, his arms encircling your legs around his waist as he does so. His hands rest under your thighs, effortlessly supporting your weight. You’re so immersed in how seamlessly his lips meld with yours that you don’t notice you both have shifted from the chair until you feel him place you on the desk.

Jungkook glides his hands up your thighs, only to have them wound around your waist, pulling you against him with force. He stands between your legs, with your pussy pressed directly against his member.

You grind your soaked panties against him, causing his lips to detach from yours, letting a groan escape from his lips as he tilts his head back, exposing his neck in the process. You trail small, wet kisses from the side of his face, along his jawline, and down his neck, before stopping at the junction between his neck and collarbone. You suck harshly on his skin, earning yourself a few moans from Jungkook, and you feel his chest vibrate.

Jungkook takes hold of your neck, his hand on your throat and kisses you intensely, attempting to express the longing he has felt for you since the moment you walked into the studio. His tongue swipes against your lower lip asking for entrance, and you don’t hesitate to let him in. As his tongue dances with yours, you feel his hands tug at your skirt before he pulls it down, pausing to allow you to lift off the desk enough for him to remove it along with your bra, tossing them to join the rest of the clothes on the floor.

The sight of your naked torso distracts him from doing anything else, his gaze lingers on your breasts before it shifts to your hip where your tattoo is. Jungkook’s hand instinctively glides over the skin adorned with black ink.

“It's still my favourite piece I've ever done,” Jungkook mutters before he plants kisses along your sternum and then finally on your breasts. Before his lips can explore further, you cup his face and bring it back to yours, and you both smile into the kiss. He gathers you in his arms and moves toward the tattoo chair behind him.

Jungkook carefully lowers you onto the reclined chair, and you watch as he stands at the edge of it, removing the black jeans that are already halfway down his legs. Jungkook doesn’t seem to mind that you’re watching every movement of his; you bite your lip and smirk, and it seems to turn him on even further, which urges him to discard his pants and join you quickly.

He crawls over you, supporting his weight with the arms on either side of your head. He gives you a quick kiss on the lips before he begins his exploration of your body, using his lips. Open-mouthed kisses are placed along your neck, across the curve of your breasts, and back up to your neck, where he decides to leave his mark by sucking on the skin at the base of your neck. The noises that escape your lips only motivate him to suck even more aggressively, creating even more red marks as he moves down your body.

“Kook, do something,” and as if he had been waiting for those words, Jungkook starts to move lower on your body until he’s hovering over your clothed pussy. You watch as his nose skims over the wet patch on your underwear. His hands smooth over your legs before they settle onto your hips, which he doesn’t leave unmarked as he sucks on the skin above your tattoo. Your hips rise, yet his stronghold stops you from squirming. “Kook, I need you.”

Upon hearing your desperate begging, Jungkook presses a finger to your covered heat, skillfully finding the bundle of nerves that have you writhing beneath his touch. He begins to rub between your legs, with the sole barrier to full contact being the delicate piece of cloth. He keeps teasing you through your panties, relishing the sounds you make as you squirm beneath him. Deciding that you’ve had enough of the torture, Jungkook hooks a finger under the waistband of your panties before pulling them down, revealing your glistening cunt. He locks eyes with you, and you observe from above as he slips a finger inside you, his stare unwavering. As he pumps his finger inside you, your head tilts back, and you let out a string of moans.

“You’re so tight, baby,” Jungkook comments before inserting another finger inside you, gentle kisses along the inside of your thighs as your hands weave into his hair. You’re surprised when you feel him sucking on your clit; the extra stimulation makes you tremble against his thrusting fingers.

“Mmm, and so wet. Your pussy tastes so good, so fucking sweet.”

“Oh my god, K-kook,” your back arches off the bed as he adds in a third finger while keeping his mouth on your sex. He smiles triumphantly upon hearing you repeat his name like a mantra, and he sets out to ensure you’re moaning it even more loudly. You bite your bottom lip, trying to suppress your desperate moans, but it's in vain when Jungkook curls his fingers within you, hitting a specific spot that causes you to clutch his hair tightly and cry out his name shamelessly.

Jungkook relentlessly drives into you, his fingers curled to target the spot that makes you moan his name, while his mouth remains attached to your clit, teeth lightly tugging and grazing the bud before his lips form a tight seal around it. You feel the pressure in your lower stomach intensify with every thrust of Jungkook's fingers and every flick of his tongue, all leading up to your orgasm.

Jungkook watches as the wave of ecstasy flows through your body, and he swears you’re the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen, with the way your face contorts in ecstasy. His fingers are still thrusting inside, helping you ride out your high, but the oversensitivity soon becomes too much, and you have to push him away.

As you catch your breath, you take a moment to notice what a handsome man Jungkook truly is. Complementing his defined biceps and strong thighs were his abs, impeccably shaped, and you observe as the stunning man above you licks the remnants of you from his fingers. The sight has you wrapping your legs around his waist, pulling him down so that his chest meets yours. Jungkook smirks at your action before he hungrily attacks your lips with his glistening ones, letting you taste yourself as you recover from your climax.

“Take this off,” you mumble against his lips, your foot at his lower back attempting to push his boxers down. He quickly complies with your request, shedding the dark grey boxers before leaning down to his jeans on the floor to retrieve his wallet from his back pocket and get a condom. He rips open the foil with his teeth, being careful not to tear the condom in the process, before rolling it down his length. He hovers over you again, keeping most of his weight off of you with the support of his arms.

Jungkook kisses at your navel before trailing upward towards your breasts. His mouth envelops one of your nipples, sucking on it, he takes his time sucking one breast while kneading the other one before he switches. Your hands hold onto his biceps, gliding over his skin as he prepares your body for another climax. When he’s satisfied with the marks he’s left on your two mounds, he places one more kiss against your lips before looking into your eyes.

“Are you ready, baby?”

“Mhm, Kook. Want you so bad.”

And so Jungkook takes his length and aligns himself at your entrance, the tip of his member almost pushing past your folds. He gives you one last peck on the corner of your mouth before his member sinks into your pussy, making you wince at the stretch of your walls. He pushes himself until he is buried deep within you, causing you to whimper when you feel his full length inside of you. Jungkook groans loudly as he feels himself being embraced by the warmth and tightness of your wet, velvety walls. He reaches for your hands and lifts them to rest on both sides of your head and interlocks your fingers with his. His forehead meets yours, and both of you share a longing gaze while relishing the moment. Once you've adjusted to his size, you move beneath him, and Jungkook takes it as a signal to begin his ravaging.

He pulls back all the way, leaving only his tip inside of you, before pushing himself balls-deep within you once again. You urge him on with your voice, calling for him to go faster and harder, and he complies by thrusting into you at an astonishing speed. With each thrust of his, Jungkook’s name escapes your lips in moans that fill the studio, along with his panting and the sound of skin slapping against skin.

You feel the warmth of his chest leave yours when he sits up, his hands gripping your waist, pressing his fingernails into your skin. The new position allows him to pull you to meet each of his thrusts, hitting at a new angle that makes you cry out his name. When he starts hitting that same spot that tipped you over the edge earlier, you grab his arms and pull him so that he’s on top of you again. His entire weight is on top of you, but you don’t care, not when his thrusts are paired with his lips on your neck.

You moan loudly, which is followed by your pussy convulsing around his cock, and Jungkook knows that you’re close. Your nails scratch against his broad back, leaving a stinging sensation that only adds to his pleasure. You're sure he’ll have red marks all over his back as if he’s been attacked, but it's a fair trade because he’s marked you plenty with his lips.

Jungkook feels you clenching around him even tighter than before, and he’s slamming his hips against yours, urging you to reach your climax. When Jungkook feels your nails dig deeper into his back, his hand reaches between your two sweaty bodies and draws circles on your clit, which sends you off into euphoria. Your second orgasm of the night hits you harder than the first, and your body would have trembled if it were not for Jungkook’s body in the way—the body that is still connected to yours and continues thrusting into you. Your swollen walls clench so tightly that Jungkook starts chasing his high. He groans loudly against your neck as he shallowly thrusts into you, helping the both of you ride out your orgasms.  

Jungkook sighs in release, unaware of how long he’s been holding his breath. Jungkook detaches himself from you, and you gasp lightly, feeling somewhat empty as the warmth leaves with him. He rolls off of you, and the two of you lie close together, side by side, attempting to regain your breath after the intense exchange. You sense his gaze from the corner of your eye, and when you turn to face him, your eyes meet his round, dark brown ones.

"Come here."

Unsatisfied with just your shoulders touching, Jungkook turns onto his side, and you do the same before the both of you shift closer to each other. His hands rest naturally on your hips as if returning them to their rightful place. No words are exchanged between the two of you, but there is no need to because you find yourself lost in the softness of his brown eyes, and he can’t help but mirror the wide grin that’s plastered on your face. His hand moves to your tattoo, and you observe his expression as his fingers hover over the indelible design on your skin. His eyes hold a sparkle that evokes a certain emotion to wash over you.

“So, do you feel better?” you ask, breaking the silence of the afterglow, but he looks confused at your words, and you find the sight adorable. “You were stressed out...”

“Me? Stressed out? Huh, I don't know what you're talking about.”

You are the one who's confused this time, but not for long, because the realization hits you when you see his mischievous smirk. You punch his arm playfully, and he grins almost too widely, his eyes forming crescents. His hands, which were placing feathery touches on your tattoo, are now tickling your sides, and he’s elated at the sound of your joyful laughter before pulling you against his chest.

Jungkook looks around the studio, the neon lights casting shadows on his face, "I feel good; how could I not? This is a first for me though— fucking at work."

You look up at him with raised brows in surprise, Jungkook smiles down at you and continues.

"You know, I didn't think the next time I had you back in my chair would be like this."

"Oh my gosh," you blush and hide your face in his chest, a little embarrassed but mostly shy at his remark. He laughs, and you feel it rumble through his chest; his hand lifts to pet down the back of your head.

"You can't be shy with me after all that. Every time I'm working on a client now, all I will be thinking about is you beneath me in this chair."

"I can't imagine what the crew would think if they found out what we did," you mumble into his chest with a little laugh.

"They would think I'm a sterilizing expert because there will be no evidence of what happened here," he sits up and gently strokes your ass, and then gives it a pinch, eliciting a gasp from you, "You're in charge of the desk, you little minx; I'll do the chair," he winks at you.

You're left to blush again, swooning as you both get up to remove any trace of the two of you in the studio.

✧ ──── 》》 ──── ✧

You blink away the tears forming in your eyes. Your thumb hovers over his name, considering calling him back just as you hear a knock at your door.

Answer your phone I've got so much to say I'm at my all-time low And it's just too much to take

Jungkook can raise his hands and admits he didn't handle that night as well as he could have, but he is truly sorry. He realizes that even if his intention wasn't to hurt or offend you, what he did wasn't his best moment. As much as he tells you that you are special to him and that what you two have is different—which is true—his actions didn't match his words, and you deserve better than that. Jungkook may not be the perfect gentleman, far from it, but he is better than that, especially when it concerns you.

As the hands of the clock tick away and more time passes, he gets up and begins pacing.

If you listened to his message you would have called by now right?

Jungkook isn't used to this—needing someone. Sure, he has desired certain women, and he always got them, but once the lust faded, he never wanted them to stay; never needed them to stay.

He hasn't always been like this, and he knows where it all began: the fear of giving his all to someone and then losing them, of handing over his heart to another and having them desecrate it.

Jungkook refused to be like his father; he watched him give his mother everything and love her immensely, only for her to run off without regard for him or Jungkook.

He fears emotionally connecting with someone else will end as he has always seen: being left alone and heartbroken.  

Because inevitably love is never simple, nor is it equal in the sacrifice of pouring oneself into another.

He can't imagine what could be worse than letting someone in and loving so wholly only to be left empty because you offered yourself up to someone undeserving.

Jungkook knows how good of a man his father is, and if he could get burned and scarred by love, Jungkook knows he doesn't stand a chance.

And who would willingly walk into a fire?

When people asked him why he didn't get into a serious relationship, he would say, “I like change. Life is too long to commit to one person and too short not to explore your options.”

But that was before he discovered you. Once you fit into his life so perfectly he knew he wouldn’t be able to live without you. He knew he had found that one constant in his life. 

The constant being: Y/L/N Y/N.

What he shared with you has always been simple, and the effort you both put in has always been equal.

Jungkook never believed he would find that kind of connection, one that flows with ease. Now that he has found it, he desires to keep you in his life and wants you to remain a part of him.

He will walk through the flames if you're on the other side.

Jungkook has never been fond of lingering and preferred moving from one thing to the next, one woman to the next. He didn't enjoy being too close; he always kept people at a distance maybe not physically but emotionally. Tattooing has been the only steady thing in his life; he was committed to his craft.

But you broke down his walls, shattered the pattern—you got close. He found the courage to let his guard down. He knows there is nothing to be wary of, no looming feeling that he will be met with disappointment. Everything is easy with you.

His cowardice had him ruling out a love that hadn't happened yet. Maybe he is a fool, but he can't live with regret. He's ready to dive off the deep end. It's draining to always be on the defence, ready to push people away, and he's tired. He wants to settle down and commit to you.

Jungkook can be vulnerable around you; he knows you won't use his weaknesses against him like people have in his past. You don't even view them as things that make him weak just what makes him human, because no one can be perfect. However, he would argue that you seem to be pretty damn close.

He feels most comfortable with you; he trusts you and can be himself. There is no pretence with you; Jungkook likes who he is around you.

Jungkook loves you.

In your eyes, he is the guy who comforted you when he saw how nervous you were while getting your first tattoo. The one who keeps an extra hoodie in his car for you because you are never dressed for the weather. The one who finishes work and picks up takeout for the two of you to eat together. That's the Jungkook you see, the one you know better than anyone else—the one you have wrapped around your precious finger.

You've never asked him to be any different from who he is, despite his shortcomings in many aspects. You never judge him for the life he's leading and never pressure him to change his ways, no matter how flawed. Yet you still never expect the worst from him.

So now, all he fears is that he has accomplished the one thing he dreaded the most, and has destroyed the link holding the two of you together.

Should he go to your place?

Jungkook hasn't gone over because he didn't want to seem overbearing; he wanted to give you your space until you felt ready to talk to him on your terms. Also, if you weren't answering his calls, you most likely wouldn't answer your door either.

But he doesn't want you to think he won't fight for you. He won't lose you without a lack of trying. If Jungkook is anything, he is persistent. He has too much left to say to you and he isn't about to sit here and take this distance any longer. He's willing to do whatever it takes.

As he looks out of his window and stares at the hundreds of lights, he feels a new surge of determination; he is rising from this low point he has sunk into, fed up with wallowing in his self-pity.

He turns and strides to his door, yanking it open with vigour. He sprints down the stairs and rushes outside into the chilly night, heading straight for his car.

Jungkook pulls out of his spot and drives the familiar route to your house, accelerating down the road at the maximum speed permitted by law. In his state of urgency, it seems that all he encounters are red lights and stop signs.

His grip on the steering wheel tightens, and he has to hold himself back from stomping too hard on the gas pedal when the light turns green.

Answer your phone I've got to get to you God, I hope you're alone And someone new isn't next to you

Y/N POV

You gather yourself and halt your wandering thoughts to get up and check who is at your door. You are not expecting anyone, and you told your friends you won't be going out with them tonight. Your excuse was being too tired from work, but honestly, you just were too sad to pretend that you were okay.

Could it be him? He said he wouldn't give up, that he had to see me.

Do you want it to be him? You would be lying to yourself if you said no.

So it's a surprise when you open the door and see Taehyung standing there with his hands in his front pockets, teetering back and forth on his heels.

A part of you is disappointed, not because it's Taehyung but because it's not Jungkook.

"Tae? I said in the group chat that I'm not going out tonight. Didn't you see my message?"

He looks you up and down and barges in, walking past you.

"And didn't you see my message? I said you are going out tonight and I was coming over to pick you up. Why aren't you ready?"

To be fair you were so preoccupied on your phone, listening to Jungkook's message and reminiscing, that you didn't notice any other messages. But when you go to your chats, you see his words are true.

He plops down on your couch, stretching his arm out on the back and gives you an expectant look, his eyes wide and his brows raised.

"What?"

"What do you mean, what? Go get ready," he makes a shooing gesture with his hand and continues.

"The clubs aren't open all night—well, actually they are..." his brows furrow as he looks off into the distance for a brief moment, then catches himself. "But I don't have all night, so let's go!" He demands with a clap of his hands.

"I'm not going out tonight, Tae. I told everyone I'm staying home."

You lie down on the couch next to his seated figure, with your back resting against the armrest.

"Didn't we just go over this?" he points between the two of you. "You are going out; everyone is already at the club. They got a table, and I'm sure Jimin has already downed a shocking amount of shots, so we have to leave soon if we want to catch up."

Taehyung taps your knee twice and then shoves your legs off the couch, bringing you to a sitting position. You take a deep breath and throw your head back, crossing your arms while closing your eyes.

"I don't feel like going out. I want to stay home."

"And do what? Continue to sulk over pretty tattoo boy?"

You open your eyes and turn your head toward him, pouting, "I was not sulking."

He stares at you with a raised brow, filled with doubt.

Rolling your eyes and letting out a sigh, your arms drop to your sides, "I'm just not in the mood, I'll only bring down the vibe."

Taehyung turns his body to face you, a sympathetic expression on his face.

"You're only making this harder for yourself by just sitting around and thinking about him, Y/N. I understand that you like him a lot—I do—but a guy like that isn't worth wasting your life waiting for him."

You look down at your hands in your lap and chip at your nail polish.

"He's been leaving me messages. He tells me how sorry he is and that he misses me. He sounds like he's having a rough time, too. That doesn't erase what he did, I know, but it was just one mistake. He's a good man, Tae. I've always known he wasn't perfect, but everyone has faults, right?"

Taehyung holds your hand and squeezes it, leaning down to meet your gaze. His voice is careful when he speaks.

"People like him always know the right thing to say. If he were such a good guy, he wouldn't have used you the way he did. Yes, everyone has faults, but you can find someone whose faults don't hurt you. It may have been only one mistake, but if he truly cared about you as he claimed, he would have never treated you that way."

Tears form in your eyes and your voice cracks. "It's just—I know him; it sounds pathetic, but he has shown me a side of himself that I know he doesn't show everyone. The real him and that's the Jungkook who has my heart. That's the Jungkook I love. We've experienced so much together, it's difficult to just move on from him."

"If you don't try to move on from him, how can you expect to, babe?"

He's right; you haven't tried. Throughout this entire period of your ignoring him, you have consistently kept Jungkook in your thoughts. Every time you went out with friends, every time a guy tried to flirt with you, and every time you held your phone—Jungkook. When you woke up, when you were at work, and when you went to bed—Jungkook. Even when you heard a knock at your door, as Taehyung did earlier, you hoped it was Jungkook.

Jungkook. Jungkook. Jungkook.

Your mind and heart were devoted to Jungkook. Everything revolved around him.

Your tears overflow, and you finally break. Taehyung wraps his arms around you, and you cry into his shoulder. He holds you until you calm down, and your sobs turn into sniffles.

You lift your head and wipe your cheeks.

"I'm such a mess, I'm so sorry, Tae. You came out to have a good time, and here you are consoling me. I have probably fucked up your fun night out," you croak out. "I must seem so stupid, all hung up over a guy."

"You haven't ruined anything, and you certainly aren't stupid. I would never think that of you. I know how much of yourself you give to someone important to you. I wish you would give yourself to someone worthy, not someone who takes advantage of you. You are an amazing person, and if Jungkook hasn't realized how lucky he is to have you, then he's the stupid one, Y/N."

"Thank you, Tae. Not just for tonight, but for listening to me go on about Jungkook this past month like a sad, broken record. You stuck by me, have been so caring, and always validated my emotions. I swear I'm the one who's lucky and unworthy of you."

"Nonsense, you know you can depend on me anytime," he says, patting your head and smiling affectionately.

You smile back, glance down, and see his shirt is stained with your tears.

"I ruined your shirt," you sniffle, pinching at the fabric.

Taehyung looks down at it and shrugs, "Hey, I prefer your tears to stain my shirt rather than Jimin's vomit," he jokes to lighten the mood.

You laugh, and he points at your face, his expression bright.

"Aha! There she is! Happy Y/N, I thought I had lost her!" he exclaims.

He turns his head, looking around, arms stretched out as if speaking to a crowd, "Ladies and gentlemen, no need to fear; I have managed to make Y/N laugh."

Taehyung once again proves to be the best friend one could have; you can always count on him to cheer you up and gather the pieces of your broken heart without fail.

"Shut up, Tae. I have neighbours," you giggle, playfully pushing him.

He joins your giggles and returns your playful push, "Well then, go get dressed! If you don't I will run up and down the hallway screaming. I came here to take you out and have fun. Sitting at home alone can't be better than partying with your insanely funny, incredibly handsome best friend. And if that isn't enough, Seokin's dancing is a sure way to lift anyone's spirit."

"Okay, fine," you agree, getting up with a big smile. The image of Seokjin's dancing already boosts your mood.

Making your way to your bedroom, you yell out, "But if anyone comments on my swollen eyes, you'll be dealing with them!"

"I've got your back, babe. Don't worry!"

You can always count on Taehyung.

Tell me, tell me now am I too late Is there somebody new taking my place? Is there somebody's lips on you Where mine used to be, yeah?

Jungkook parks across the street from your building; he sits in his car, pondering whether it's too late to knock at your door. Are you already asleep? Should he have waited until tomorrow? If you answer and open it to find him standing there, will you shut it in his face?

He knows right now he's not your favourite person, but he doesn't believe you would be so cruel as to turn him away at your doorstep.

He rubs his hands down his face and lets out a deep sigh.

How could he let things end up like this?

He ruined something so special, so sacred. Building a relationship so pure and superior doesn't happen to everyone, and he managed to have it hanging by a thread.

Your relationship can't just end because of one mistake—a big mistake, yes, but he believes that what you two have is strong enough to overcome this. The two of you have made so many wonderful, meaningful memories.

Jungkook remembers how good things were before this—before he ruined everything.

✧ ──── 《《 ──── ✧

Jungkook never imagined he would witness such a breathtaking sight: you bare before him, glazed eyes and slightly parted lips, lovely sounds escaping as he traced wet kisses along the nape of your neck, down your throat, over the curves of your breasts, pausing to swirl his tongue over a sensitive bud, drawing out his name from your throat, the same one now decorated with shades of blue and purple.

“Please, Kook,” you beg, pleading with him for more, and he is more than willing to give it to you, knowing he can hardly deny you anything.

He smiles, kissing his way back up to your lips, positioning his body over yours and aligning his hips so he can slide into your warmth with a soft thrust, the wetness coating the inside of your thighs showing how aroused he has made you.

You clutch at his shoulders with a moan, nails digging in and creating crescent shapes with every thrust he makes. Jungkook fucks you slow and deep, hitting every nerve within you, making you unravel before him in no time at all. His lips move slowly against yours, tongues twirling together as your legs wrap tightly around his body, drawing him closer and deeper into you, his sighs of contentment pouring into your mouth.

Jungkook is sure this is what heaven feels like: his hands on you, hips rocking against your own as you devour the sounds escaping each other's lips. You encourage one another until he picks up pace, gazing down at your face, cheeks flushed and lips swollen.

The coil in your stomach tightens, twisting, and is ready to snap. Jungkook is also at his limit, eyes hooded but maintaining eye contact with yours, his forearms supporting his weight on either side of your body.

Overcome with pleasure, the feeling of his skin against your own, united with you in the most intimate way two people can be. The act is sinful but fully infused with the profound bond you both share. What you and Jungkook have cannot be expressed in words, and he does not think the two of you need to articulate what you both understand.

“Come on, baby, cum for me,” he husks, gently nibbling at your jaw.

One of his hands moves to where your bodies meet, flicking his thumb over your clit repeatedly. Then you come undone, the release so intense that his name echoes off every corner of the small bedroom. He continues throughout your orgasm, prolonging it until the sensation of your walls tightening around him brings him to his climax, spilling inside of you with a groan of your name, lips pressed harshly to yours, putting everything he feels into a single kiss.

He pulls away, carefully removes the condom and ties a knot at its end before disposing of it and falling onto the bed, shifting onto his side to look at you. The moonlight streams through the window, illuminating your skin in a radiant glow. Jungkook trails his fingertips along the surface of your arm, moving down until he reaches your hip, pulling you closer to him as you tuck your head into his chest.

Jungkook spots the numerous red crescents on your body already beginning to take on a darker colour — almost as deep as the black ink he used for your tattoo. Jungkook wishes for nothing more than the colour of the marks to be so deep that it will cover you forever.

He holds you close, his thumb brushing over the familiar tattoo on your hip— the everlasting mark that brought you two together. You found each other that day months ago when you walked into his studio and had him ink his design on you, and ever since then, you have been a part of his life. The ink serves as a reminder of the bond between you and Jungkook, etched onto your skin just as you are to him.

“You should let me give you another one."

“What do you think I should get?” you whisper against his chest.

"My name, here," he replies, his inked finger tracing just above the left side of your chest, right over your heart.  

You smile as you push him so that he lies on his back; you move to lie on your stomach between his legs, your chin resting on his chest. His hands come to your back, caressing it up and down.

"Hmm, and you'll get my name here," you lightly run your pointer finger over his left pec.

Jungkook lifts a hand to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear, smiles tenderly, and nods while humming in agreement. His fingers linger, skimming your face as his gaze softens. His eyes are filled with adoration as he looks at you.

Jungkook can feel your heartbeat against his stomach; he wonders if you can feel his own under your touch. Both of your hearts are beating rapidly, which he assumes is due to the physical exertion you both just experienced and not from this impassioned moment you two are having.

He can physically feel how much affection there is between you two. He has never felt that before. It's moments like this that make Jungkook feel incredibly fortunate to have you in his life.

"Aren't tattoo artists usually against getting other people's names tattooed?" you tease with a smirk and a raised brow.

Jungkook shrugs with a smirk, his tongue playing with his lip rings, "I live by my own rules."

You roll your eyes, shaking your head, "Oh, what a rebel you are."

Jungkook's hands go to your sides and tickle you with a gentle pinch.

"Kook!" you laugh as you jolt further up his body.

"Kook!" he mocks in a high-pitched voice, imitating you before wrapping his arms around you and hugging you close.

You pout and make a soft 'hmph' sound so insanely cute that Jungkook can't resist the smile spreading across his face; he laughs and then kisses your pouty lips and all over your face. You giggle and lightly tug his necklace with your finger, bringing his mouth to yours for a long, sweet kiss. When you break apart, Jungkook gives one final peck above your left breast.

"I was serious, you know," he murmurs, voice low. He juts his chin lightly to where he last placed his lips.

"Haven't you marked me enough?" you stretch out your neck and gesture at the hickey-covered skin.

"I wanna mark you every way I can, baby," he smiles smugly.

One of your hands plays with the hair at the nape of his neck, and the other plays with the hoop in his ear. You avoid eye contact, keeping your eyes focused on the earring.

"Tattoos are forever, Kook," you say sheepishly.

"You're telling me," Jungkook chuckles, tilting his head toward his right arm covered in a sleeve of tattoos. He turns his head to kiss your wrist and then cups your face with both hands, making you look at him, "Hey, you planning on going somewhere and not telling me?"

You shake your head, his big hands still holding it.

"Hmm, I'm a bit worried now; I need to hear you say it," he squints his eyes, teasing.

"No, I'm not going anywhere," you grin.

Jungkook mirrors your grin and nods, "Good," he pulls your face closer and nudges his nose against yours, "Because I'm not either."

He squishes your cheeks together in his hands, making your lips pucker out.

"It's not easy to find someone this cute," he coos, shaking your head.

You pull your head from his grasp and lightly slap his chest. His hands slide down to your ass and give it a firm squeeze, long fingers digging into the smooth flesh.

"Even harder to find someone equally as sexy,” he whispers in your ear, his teeth grazing lightly. His voice is so deep you feel it vibrate through his body against yours.

"Huh, it can't be too hard, I found you," you quip, poking his cheek.

Jungkook gives your ass a spank, and you gasp as he flips you both over, with you now under his hovering body.

"Why don't I show you just how lucky we both are?" his tone dripping with seduction.

The tip of his nose trails down your neck as his lips ghost over your skin, down to the valley of your breasts. He stops to knead the soft mounds, surging forward to swirl his tongue over one of the hardened nubs before taking it into his mouth and sucking gently. He hums in satisfaction. He releases it, giving it a gentle bite, and switches to show the other the same attention.

Once pleased, he continues his trail past your stomach and stops at your pulsing heat. He nestles his head between your legs, his hands grip your thighs and spread you wide open, your already slick folds clench around nothing in anticipation.

Jungkook gives your clit a teasing lick before diving in without hesitation. You whimper when his mouth latches onto you, his wide tongue licking a slow, filthy stripe over your slit, your hands flying into his hair. He groans, his eyes rolling back as he tastes you, his tongue circling your clit and then flicking over it repeatedly before dragging down to press at your entrance. Your hand tightens in his hair as his tongue presses deep into your dripping hole.

“Fuck, Kook,” you whine, grinding harder as your thighs tighten around his head.

He exhales through his nose, eyes crinkling as he smiles into your pussy when you buck your hips against his face. The sequence of sucking, licking, and prodding with his lips and tongue has you both writhing in ecstasy. The wet, sloppy sounds of his lips and tongue working against you fill the room. The intimate night of passion continues until the moon gives way to the sun.

✧ ──── 》》 ──── ✧

Jungkook is pulled out of his memories when he sees the door of the main entrance to your building open. He watches you step out, and his heart nearly leaps out of his chest upon seeing you.

Your short, tight dress hugs your body in all the right places. Your tall, thin high heels complement your legs phenomenally. Your hair cascades down your figure, making you look like an angel. You look gorgeous.

The sight of you would bring any man to his knees. You must be dressed to go out for the night, so he must act now if he doesn't want his drive here to be for nothing. He moves to get out of his car, but just as his hand touches the handle, he sees a man walk out right behind you, and Jungkook freezes.

Jungkook looks closely at the man's face; he's good-looking. He's sure he recognizes him from your posts. He looks like one of the guys you've tagged in your pictures, the ones where he's had his arm around you. The happy idiot. What was it... Taemin? Taejin? Taewoo?

Whoever he is, he extends his arm for you to link with yours, and you do. You're about to step down the stairs when you stop and say something to the man. You have an anxious expression, but whatever you say to the man beside you only brings a fond smile to his face. He responds to you and leans down to kiss your cheek.

The cheek that Jungkook's lips have been on more times than he can count.

And you light up as if he made everything better. You walk down the stairs, arm in arm with the man whom Jungkook worries has taken his place.

Once you step off the last step, you stop once more, unlink your arm, and pull out your phone. The light from the screen shines on your face; you tap your fingers on it for a few seconds before putting it back in your purse. You relink your arms with who Jungkook thinks is the luckiest guy in the world and set off down the street, heading to your destination.

Jungkook feels the wind being knocked out of him. He hadn't even realized he had gotten out of his car. He stands far enough that you don't notice him, but close enough to see you perfectly. To see how you were on the phone he knows is full of his messages and calls—that you are still ignoring.

Tell me, tell me now, what can I do To make it up to you Won't you tell me, please? Tell me, please

All the hope and determination he had when he left his house seemed to have disintegrated. He feels small, much like your figure becomes as you walk further away from him on the arm of another.

Jungkook stares at your back until he loses sight of you as you round the corner. He stands there feeling like he has just been slapped in the face for the second time tonight, but this one stings much more.

What else can he do?

Jungkook doesn't know how to make it up to you, and at this point, he's unsure if he's fighting a losing battle. You seem to be doing just fine without him. It hurts to see you happy when he has been miserable without you.

He needs you to talk to him, to tell him what to do to win you back. What he has to do so he can hear your laugh, smell your scent, and touch your skin. He needs to have you back in his arms, on his lips—in his life.

He tilts his head back, eyes focused on the moon and how it mocks him, shining brightly while he is filled with darkness.

He stands there, disoriented; all he can do is let out a bitter laugh at the irony that he drove all the way here to watch you walk away from him—now and quite possibly forever.

With a sad smile, he is overwhelmed with questions, out of his mind. Why are you two ending? How can you? How can you two end?  

All your memories together overflow out of his perforated heart, he puts his hand over his chest trying to block them and keep them inside, but they escape through his fingers.

Jungkook had you by his side and took you for granted; now he is watching you be cherished by another man while he stands by like a stranger in the night.

He doesn't want to be like this, he doesn't. He hates this, really hates this.

He doesn't believe it would hurt this much even if his heart stopped.

Answer your phone I've got to talk to you I'm out here in the cold Trying to get through to you, oh

Jungkook never envisioned that when he finally loved someone, he would be left alone and heartbroken— not because you decided to run off, not because you were undeserving, but because he pushed you away.  

He took too long to walk through the flames and got burned. He dove off the deep end too late into a pool of emptiness and hit the bottom.

Jungkook stands in the street, the cold air biting at his cheeks, but he can't find the strength to return to his car and drive home. He came here on a mission to talk to you face to face. He hopes that if he stands here long enough, you might walk back around that corner and come straight to him. He hopes you will answer his plea and do something to fix him. Hold him in your arms and tell him that everything will be okay and that the two of you will work together to mend what has been broken.

But you don't, and Jungkook's heart may be beyond repair at this rate.

Jungkook's heart hurts so badly that it's strange that he's even alive.

He should have followed you, chased you blindly even if you were trying to run away from him. He should have yelled at the top of his lungs that there's a hole in his heart that can't be filled and he's dying of pain.

How can he forget you? He doesn't know how to do that.

Like the tattoo he inked on your hip, you are etched in him— an indelible impression on his heart.

You are the only person he wants, your hands to comfort him, your voice to soothe his heart.

He'll have to settle for listening to your voice through the phone, even if it's only your voicemail.

Jungkook digs into his pocket for his phone, unlocks it and with your name already on the screen, presses the call button and waits.

Answer your phone, answer your phone Answer your phone, answer your phone Answer your phone

But he doesn't have to wait for long.

He's immediately met with a voice, but not your sweet voice; instead it's an answering machine.

And now he has been slapped for the third time tonight, so hard that he stands there in the cold, gripping his phone so tightly that his knuckles might bleed. He releases a shaky breath as his eyes fill with tears, and spill over before he knows it.

Jungkook is hit with the reality that you still refuse to talk to him. You have now blocked his number on your phone and blocked him out of your life.

"We are unable to reach the person you are calling at this time. Please try calling back later."

↬ so how do we feel? hope he suffered enough for your liking. let me know what you think! muah! 💋

taglist: @bangtans-momma @celticcountrygal @annafarrr

[wstviewvidal]

valerie- w. maximoff

summary: cupid is actually a four year old with a pink sequins backpack

pairing: rich!wanda x r

a/n: this one was fun to write lol

minors do not interact

“are you ready, bubba?” you yell out to your niece who’s sat at your couch watching another episode of her favorite cartoon.

you can hear a muffled reply in response as you walk into the living room where valerie is sat with a small zip lock bag full of cookies. you give her a pointed look, one she acknowledges in embarrassment as she puts the cookies away that you’d told her not to eat yet.

it’s been a week since the company dinner you’d accompanied wanda to. after the slight altercation with the woman who tried to insult you, wanda decided it was time to leave shortly after. she then made it a point to remind you that she was going to take both you and valerie out— which happened to be today.

wanda apologized profusely after the event, the guilt of putting you in an uncomfortable weighed heavily on her conscience. she sent you a bouquet of flowers the day after.

you got over the whole ordeal that same night, but seeing wanda act so caring and soft towards you was the reason you allowed it.

“when is auntie wanda coming?” valerie asks, going through her pink sequins backpack that she brought specifically for the aquarium.

you’d told her on numerous occasions that wanda was just your friend and nothing else, but you’re always met with a smug look on valerie’s face and a, “whatever you say.”

as soon as valerie says that, you both are met with wanda’s black car pulling into your driveway and her walking to your front door.

you move towards the front door to let wanda in, but you’re beat by the four year old in pigtails running to open it for wanda.

“my valerie!” wanda exclaims, immediately crouching down to hug the little girl, “how are you? i missed you!”

the little girl squeals and giggles as wanda presses a kiss to her cheek, “good! i’m excited for the aquarium!”

valerie had been gushing about going to the aquarium with her aunties for the past few days.

wanda nods and lets go of your niece, then standing up to her normal height as she smiles at you warmly, “hi.”

laughing at her bashfulness, you greet wanda with a twinkle in your eye, leaning on one hip, “hi, maximoff.”

valerie watches the two of you with a giggle, finding it amusing how the two of you got nervous just saying hi.

“we should head out,” wanda says when she’s brought back to earth my valerie’s snicker, “we can get lunch after the aquarium.”

the two of you head out in wanda’s car, valerie blabbering about how she’d missed wanda and updating her with what’s new in her class.

you look over at wanda, who meets your gaze with a subtle smirk. you can tell she’s amused by the whole situation— it all seeming very domestic to her.

arriving at the aquarium, you hold valerie’s hand as wanda falls into the routine of holding the door open for the both of you. you thank her as you pass by, brushing your hand along her waist as you past in front of her.

with your back to her, wanda silently groaned and shut her eyes as you did so, internally freaking out. she follows behind you trying to suppress a flushed smile with the pre-bought tickets in hand to scan.

“you pretty ladies ready?” wanda asks as she leads the both of you toward the doorway to get into the actual exhibits.

valerie nods enthusiastically as she rushes in front of you, shoving her pink sequins backpack into your hands as she runs off to look at the glass tunnel of fish.

wanda laughs as she watches the interaction play out, seeing valerie’s wide toothed grin as her brown curls bounce as she takes off past the two of you. you roll your eyes at wanda, “it’s not funny, wands.”

wanda playfully nods, reaching for the backpack in your hands, “you’re right, it’s not funny at all,” she puts her arms through valerie’s backpack and pulls you forward with her so neither of you lose sight of the girl.

you take in wanda’s casual outfit, not used to seeing her outside of her normal business attire. the light blue denim and white t-shirt making her look comfortably put together.

noticing your gaze on her, she raises her eyebrows, silently asking what’s going on.

shaking your head and turning away from her, “i just think you look pretty,” you say smugly as you walk a few steps ahead of her in hopes of not showing your flushed face at being caught gawking.

wanda watches you waltz off, her lips pursed in amusement, “oh, do you now?” she calls after you, her tone teasing.

she can tell that you have a thing for subtly catching her off guard and leaving her palms sweaty. she runs a hand through her hair, biting back a smile as she watches you walk ahead of her.

glancing back, “don’t get used to it, maximoff. im just being honest.”

catching up to you, wanda walks on your right side and points out all of the different fish. you somehow found yourself absentmindedly holding onto her arm as you two walked through the botanical garden that you followed valerie into.

wanda tensed subtly at the contact, but easing almost immediately as she watched your side profile with a gaze of adoration.

“i’m not that used to people being honest,” she says after a few minutes of silence, sitting on a nearby bench while valerie watched butterflies, “nor have i had anyone tell me i look good in denim.”

looking over at her with a head tilt, “then i think you’ve been around the wrong people.” your tone carries a bit of a playful edge, one that carries a bit more weight than intended.

wanda’s smile tells you she acknowledges the weight, it faltering just a bit but enough to recognize something softer about her.

in attempts to break the tension, wanda pulls you gently to a section, “look, these are my favorite,” as she points at hibiscus flowers.

you can tell she’s grasping for a change in topic and you decide to humor her. nodding along, you turn to her, “i’ll make a mental note of that.”

your small world is interrupted by valerie’s squeals echoed in the garden.

letting out a slight sigh, you nod towards valerie who’s now running full speed to the waterfall, “come on, before she tries to climb something she shouldn’t.”

the little girl’s giggles echo throughout the garden, and she tugs you both to an empty bench and pointing at the butterflies and flowers, “look, they’re so pretty!”

wanda nods, agreeing with valerie’s excitement, “they are, aren’t they?”

leaning back on your hands as you sit at the bench, you admire the two— how they easily fit into each other’s world. the way valerie easily has wanda wrapped around her finger and how wanda goes with whatever valerie says. you smile to yourself at how wanda carries valerie on her hip and points around the exhibit with a smile on her face.

after putting valerie down to do her own exploring, she joins you on the bench. your legs brushing against each other— neither one of you pulling away.

clearing your throat in hopes of not sounding nervous, “you’ve got competition now. val thinks the butterflies are prettier than you.”

with a mock offended face, “that’s so mean!”

shrugging playfully and lifting your chin, “what can i say, you’ll just have to work on impressing her even more.”

“i’ll let it slide for today, but,” smirking just the smallest bit, wanda moves in closer to you, “i hope you don’t think i’ve given up on try on to impress you.”

your heart stutters and your face immediately goes red— yore caught off guard by her bold words. wanda chuckles a bit before walking off to valerie and leaving you behind on the bench to collect yourself.

wanda walks with valerie around the aquarium, her small hand fit into wanda’s. the young girl points at different fish and listens to wanda spill facts about them.

the two laugh with each other, wanda adopting a caring attitude for the small girl. walking across a bridge, valerie tugs on wanda’s hand with a furrowed brow, “wanda..”

recognizing the slight waver in her voice, she immediately looks down to her and cups her cheek, “what’s wrong, bubba?”

valerie pouts and with a small voice, “jesse’s here,” she reaches up for wanda to hold her.

immediately pulling the girl onto her hip, “is that a friend from school?” wanda questions gently, not caught up to speed with who this person is.

shaking her head and playing with wanda’s necklace, “she’s my aunties old girlfriend.”

wanda’s steps halt, immediately looking in the direction valerie was looking. spotting a dark haired girl walking with someone. she watches her carefully, her bottom lip being tugged between her teeth in deep thought.

“i didn’t like her very much,” valerie speaks softly, as if she didn’t know if she should be speaking her opinion, “auntie used to cry a lot when they were together.”

upon hearing this, wanda’s heart clenched and she couldn’t help but let out a sigh. nodding, she held valerie a bit tighter. wanda’s expression was unreadable, but her eyes followed the ex with a sharp, deliberate focus.

wanda didn’t glare— she’s not the glaring type, but she studied the stranger showed nothing with a silent steel expression.

adjusting her hold on valerie, she walked back to the bench where you were sat— intending to get the both of you out of there before you had to come into contact with your ex.

however, there you were— conversing with your ex.

her breath hitched slightly, her steps faltering for just a second as she processed the picture in front of her. she took in your expression, the forced polite smile and the way your arms were crossed.

and then there was jesse— standing far too close for comfort, her head tilted in a way that seemed too smug.

whispering into valerie’s ear, “is that her, bubs?”

the small girl nodded into wanda’s shoulder, wrapping her arms around wanda’s neck, “yeah.”

she adjusted her posture and stood as tall as possible while she made her way closer. she walked with purpose, her steps not faltering— her presence unmistakable.

you turn around at the sound of steps coming closer, a genuine smile and breath of relief escaping your lips as you take in the sight of wanda with valerie in her arms.

“hi,” you say through a wide grin, pushing a piece of hair from valerie’s face.

“hey,” wanda greeted, her voice laced with warmth when she directed it to you, but her eyes flickered with something a bit cold when she looked over at jesse.

you noticed the subtle expression, but knew not to say anything of it.

even valerie noticed it, “auntie..” she whispered, her voice broke you out of your moment, her little arms reaching for you.

pulling her into you, you look over at wanda, “what’s going on?” a flicker of confusion in your expression.

her hands settling into her back pockets, a polite smile graced her face, “baby saw someone she recognized.”

wanda subtly glanced over at jesse, whose lips were still holding the smug smile— one wanda wished she could wipe off.

jesse raised an eyebrow, her eyes narrowing the slightest bit as she looked at wanda, “and you are?”

wanda tilted her head, her expression alarmingly calm, “i’m wanda.”

she offered no further elaboration, just a quiet gaze that somehow felt like a challenge.

glancing nervously between the two of them, you feel the weight of the air around you but are unsure of how to break it— and you know valerie feels it too.

“uh, jesse, this is wanda,” you hesitate, swallowing hard, “wanda, this is jesse.”

wanda’s smile didn’t falter, in fact, it somehow became even more alarmingly polite. there was a flicker of something in her eyes— something almost protective, territorial even, as she gave jesse a once over.

“nice to meet you,” wanda extended a hand out of her.

jesse meets her hand, her grip lasting a second too long, “likewise.”

turning back to you with a gentle voice, “the baby said she was hungry already. i think we should head out to eat.”

turning your full attention back to wanda after witnessing the tense moment, you nod and agree, “let’s go.”

you give a quick goodbye to jesse, not even intending to continue whatever conversation you were having before wanda swooped in.

“take care,” wanda nods to jesse as she guides you out with a hand on the small of your back.

you don’t even turn back to know that jesse is watching the three of you. you allowed wanda to take the lead, trusting her instinct to leave, even if you couldn’t explain why.

“are you okay?” she asks as you three are in the car, looking over at you as you’re stopped at a red light. you seem to be lost in thought, wanda’s eyebrows furrow the slightest bit.

you nod, looking over at her with a polite smile, “thank you.”

part of you wonders why wanda acted the way she did, but the other part of you knows that wanda is perceptive— and the fact that valerie probably told her something.

valerie gasps as wanda pulls into the parking lot lot, “pizza!”

the three of you are sat in a corner booth,

except this time valerie is sat with wanda rather than you— not that you mind. in fact, you prefer to admire the way wanda colors with valerie on her kid’s menu and the way she wipes valerie’s mouth when she smears marinara sauce on her face.

your head is tilted slightly, chin in your hand as you watch the two of them intently. you find yourself smiling without even realizing, laughing at the two of them in their own world.

your chest is warm and you can’t help but trace the lines on wanda’s face. the smile that’s painted on her lips, the way her hair falls over her shoulders, the way her voice is gentler when she speaks to valerie.

giggling softly at the sight, “you’re cute.”

valerie doesn’t look up from the drawing, but wanda does. she nods in agreement, assuming you’re talking about your niece.

with a playful roll of your eyes, “i’m talking about you, maximoff.”

wanda’s eyes widen slightly, a flush creeping up her neck as the two of you hold eye contact. she clears her throat, trying to keep some semblance of composure, but the way you are looking at her so intently has her falling off her seat.

her voice is soft, like she’s trying to keep it as steady as possible, “well, coming from you that means a lot,” she tries her best to seem confident, but you can see you got her nervous by the way she’s fiddling with the ring on her finger.

from the corner of your eye, you can see valerie smiling at the two of you.

you know your niece well enough to know she’s been plotting this whole time. for a four year old, she’s incredibly aware of the people around her— which in your case may be a good thing.

“auntie,” she begins.

you hold in a breath, afraid of what she may say, “yeah, bubba?”

“i like wanda a lot better than your old girlfriend,” she states matter-of-factly, “she’s nice to you and buys me food.”

does valerie know that you and wanda aren’t actually dating? or is she up to something?

that doesn’t matter though because now wanda’s laughing at your nieces words. she’s laughing and you can’t even be bothered to correct valerie because wanda is grinning from ear to ear and that’s the only thing that matters right now.

sighing, you decide it’s best to keep quiet, “don’t be mean, val.”

the little girl just shrugs and turns to wanda with a hushed voice, “you’re a lot nicer to my auntie. you better stay around.”

wanda just nods and holds out her pinky to valerie, “i pinky promise ill do whatever it takes.”

a giggle escapes valerie’s voice as she laces her tiny pinky around wanda’s, the two of them smiling at one another’s promise.

wanda finally brings you two back home, the sun setting. wanda stares out the windshield as she realizes the day spent with you is now over, her heart feeling heavy.

“i loved being with you and val today,” she says as she looks over at you, her hand tracing the gearshift out of nervous habit.

you nod, placing your hand on top of hers without a second thought, “thank you for thinking of us.”

wanda looks at your hand on top of hers, wondering if she should turn it around and interlace your fingers. the gears turn in her head, wondering if that’s too much too soon.

“i’ll see you soon?” you ask, brushing your fingers across the back of her hand in a soothing manner. you don’t mean for it to come off flirty, but you can see how it causes wanda to force back a smile.

she nods, finally looking you in your eyes after watching you trace lines on her hand, “of course.”

valerie makes her way out of the car on her own, grabbing one of her outdoor toys she kept stashed in your rose bush.

you scoff, not even knowing she’d hidden it there, “can you believe that girl? half the time i’m not even aware she’s plotting something.”

but wanda wasn’t listening, she was more focused on the way the sunset was making your eye color pop out, how your smile seemed even more beautiful now that she had her full attention on you.

she nods absentmindedly, her body facing toward you as you speak.

“i want to see you again,” she says, her voice just barely above a whisper, “please?”

the subtle pleading tone in her voice causes you to face her. you’re met with a smiling wanda who looks nothing but awestruck as she watches you.

you giggle softly at how soft she looks right now, “you will.”

a small pout adorns her lips at how you don’t give a solid answer as to when she’ll see you again, but she nods knowing that your schedules don’t always align.

as valerie plays in the background, the moment between you and wanda is quiet but charged. you two take time gazing at each other, smiles lingering.

“good,” her voice is low.

you can tell she wants to say more, but instead she chooses to continue gazing at you— studying the details of your face.

the weight of her stare is settling into your chest, and you know you need to get out of the car soon.

“let me know when you get home,” you say, placing a hand on wanda’s forearm, giving a gentle squeeze.

as wanda’s car pulls off, you stand there for a moment longer, watching until the taillights of her car disappear.

valerie calls from the yard, her voice light and playful, “you’re smiling again.”

you glance over at her, rolling your eyes a bit, but she’s not wrong.

[hannieehaee]

TRAINING SEASON

18+ / mdi

summary: unfortunately for vernon, all his friends were gym bros, leading to constant harassment for him to join the lifestyle. after weeks of twelve men constantly bugging at him to accompany them, all it takes is one girl for vernon to finally give in.

content: strangers2friends2lovers!vernon, fitness!reader, vernon's kind of a loser here, reader is friends with the other 12, vernon's not into fitness, downbad!vernon, reader is implied to be into fitness but her body's not really described in any specific way, afab reader, smut, semi-public sex, handjob, kind of sub!vernon, dry humping, penetrative sex, etc.

wc: 9.3k

a/n: not really sure why i keep writing vernon like a loser with no game lol im sure in real life he's got a ton of game lets just pretend he doesnt<3

masterlist

"C'mon, Nonnie. Come with us. Just this once."

"You don't even have to work out, we just want-"

"No, if I have to work out, he has to work out. You guys have been dragging me with you to engage in your masochist tendencies for weeks. He deserves the same treatment."

Vernon simply groaned at all the noise, uncaring of what Seungkwan, Mingyu and Jeonghan were saying, respectively. Instead, he opted to cover his face with a pillow, attempting to muffle all the noise his friends were making so early in the morning.

Then suddenly, the comfort of his blanket left him, followed by his pillow being pulled from his hold and used to deliver a swift smack against his head before being whisked away and landing on the opposite side of the room.

One more, he groaned, but this time louder. His eyes opened to find the culprit standing above him, squinting due to the sudden surge of sunlight into his vision at having opened his eyes.

"Dude, stop being a lazy piece of shit and come with us," nagged Joshua.

God, how many of them were in his apartment? It was supposed to be just him and Seungkwan who lived here, where did the rest come from?

"What time is it?" he finally grumbled out, sitting up. It's not like he had any options anyway.

"It's 9:16 in the morning," informed him Wonwoo from outside his bedroom. God, was he here too?

"Why are all of you in my apartment? Seungkwan, we agreed that-"

"We all have keys, you idiot. Now get up. We're going to the gym," this time it was Chan.

"Do all twelve of you go to the same gym at the same time? God, they must hate you."

Vernon finally sat up against his headboard, head counting a total of five of his friends currently in his room, assuming the rest to be either in his kitchen or living room.

God damn you, Boo Seungkwan.

"We're pretty well liked, actually."

A few of the members nodded along to Mingyu's rebuttal.

Yeah, that made sense. Twelve muscly and more than objectively attractive men were likely magnets for clientele over at the gym.

All the more reason to not join them.

All his friends were fitness addicts (sans Jeonghan, maybe). Simply gym bros who had developed what Vernon liked to call an unhealthy habit to exercise — despite how ironic that statement sounded. Vernon, on the other hand, had never been one to put too much emphasis on fitness. He liked his build as it was; some slightly toned muscle and a slim frame. He never really saw any need to bulk up like most of his friends, so he never gained an interest for it.

Yet his friends had tried to convince him to join them, time and time again.

Jeonghan had been the one other friend they had to convince to join them. Other than Vernon, Jeonghan was the only other member of their large friend group who had a proclivity against the gym. But his love for spending time with his friends had won him over, making him tag along just for the mere purpose of not feeling FOMO.

Now, Vernon did not have that issue. He didn't mind missing out on hang outs. He was a pretty lowkey, chill guy. Staying at home unless it was vital for him to leave, now that was more up his alley.

Except now he had twelve men nagging at him to get up, put on some basketball shorts and a flimsy tank top and join them at their gym. It had been a few weeks of this insistence, leading to this moment — all his friends breaking into his and Seungkwan's apartment in order to drag him out.

And the sad thing was that it worked. Apparently it took twenty-three consecutive days of bugging at Vernon to convince him of doing something he didn't want to do for him to budge. He hoped this didn't become some sort of pattern.

~

Vernon felt out of place.

All his friends had arrived in extremely casual fashion, immediately comfortable in the familiar environment and dispersing themselves in their respective smaller groups.

Meanwhile, even after half an hour of being there, Vernon felt like he stuck out like a sore thumb.

The agreement they'd settled on was that Vernon would try out the gym. If he didn't like it, — more like, if he truly despised it, in Seungcheol's words — they all agreed to leave him alone (other than Jeonghan, who insisted he'd move into his closet and haunt him until he came back).

So, really all Vernon had to do was hang out for an hour or two and then let his friends down easy.

It should've been easy enough considering how out of place he felt surrounded by other unfamiliar gym bros in their natural habitat.

"Dude, at least try not to look like you have no idea what a gym is."

His thoughts were interrupted by Mingyu who suddenly materialized next to him.

"Huh?"

"You've been standing here staring into the distance for five minutes. Here, just follow me. I just finished my cardio You can do arms with me and Seok today."

The statement felt like a threat. Looking at Mingyu, at his muscles, was enough to tire Vernon out. Was he supposed to keep up with that?

Still, Vernon shrugged to himself and followed after Mingyu. Something which he regretted soon after realizing it'd take an entire flight of stairs to get to what he presumed to be the area of the gym where they usually did arms. There, he found Seokmin and Chan, seemingly already in the middle of some set of some workout while Jeonghan sat on a bench press with a coffee in hand.

"You're actually gonna work out? I thought you'd just go to the spa room," commented Jeonghan upon spotting him approaching.

"There's a spa here? Sick."

"And you can use it after a few sets with me. Follow me, let's go figure out how much you can lift," once again, Vernon began to trail after Mingyu towards the stack of dumbbells on a mirrored wall nearby.

"Oh, Y/N was looking for you earlier, by the way," Seokmin stopped Mingyu before he could walk away.

"Y/N? What for?"

"Your bet, you idiot. She said she can bench press 80 pounds now. You owe her $50," interjected Chan, setting down the two dumbbells he'd been holding.

"Nah, no way," Mingyu crossed his arms, "Where's she at?"

"Are we going to get the weights or-"

"Hold on, 'Sol," Gyu interrupted him, "I have something to settle."

"She just went to fill up her water. She should be back soon," added Seokmin.

"Who's Y/N?", Vernon asked.

"Wouldn't you like to know?", snickered Jeonghan.

"What does that even me-"

"Chan, just hand me those weights. Vernon should be able to lift those," Mingyu reached over to Chan, grabbing the dumbbells he'd been using with an ease that made it seem like they were weightless.

But this theory proved to be wrong the moment Mingyu attempted to hand them over to an unsuspecting Vernon. Embarrassingly enough, the most predictable thing happened.

But what was most embarrassing was the timing. Suddenly the main character of the conversation showed up, just as Vernon's hands failed to hold onto the heavy weights, dropping them at his feet and barely missing a hospital visit by a few inches. His hands had stupidly attempted to catch them mid flight, but it only resulted in him almost falling over, body now bent down as he caught himself before falling.

That's when he saw an unfamiliar pair of converse standing in front of him.

"Hey- oh, shit!" were the first words he heard from you just as he created the biggest clanking sound resonating through the entire floor.

Looking up with a mixture of surprise and embarrassment on his face, he found you standing right in front of him. Like his own, your expression showed surprise, though he also found amusement in it. In any other situation, he may have laughed along with you (and the rest of his friends who he heard cackling from behind him), but this instance was different.

Because Vernon hadn't expected for a girl his friends had merely mentioned in passing to look like you. Makeup-less and in some worn band shirt with some tiny spandex underneath, you had Vernon's mouth catching flies.

Vernon didn't have a type. Was never one to care for appearances too much. But he suddenly found himself gulping at the sight in front of him. Your eyes stated down at him with some sort of wonder, and he felt a sickly feeling in him that told him he wanted them on him at all times from then on — even if it was due to something embarrassing he'd done.

An incredibly out of character thought for Vernon to have, but here he was.

Instead of picking up the dumbbells he'd stupidly dropped and introducing himself as he usually would've done, his brain malfunctioned along with his body. Losing balance as he straightened himself up, he stammered out what he believed to be a greeting (though he wasn't too sure; he was too distracted by you) while Mingyu offered him support to properly stand.

"Hi?", you responded, "Sorry, was that my fault?", you turned to the other members with slight concern.

A soft slapping sound resounded as Mingyu patted Vernon on the back, chuckling over at your concerned expression.

"Nah, you're fine. Vernon's hand-eye coordination just isn't that good."

"Dude, you handed me like a hundred pounds with no warning!", Vernon recoiled from his touch, attempting to save some of his dignity.

"That was just forty on each dumbbell actually," corrected Chan.

Vernon groaned internally.

Thank you, Chan. Make him look like even more of a wimp than he already did.

"Uh, anyways. Hi, I'm Vernon," he extended his hand out dumbly.

"Oh, you're Vernon?," your hand squeezed his own (a feeling which Vernon would have to get back to later), "I've been looking forward to meeting you," you smiled before letting go.

"Uh, what?"

He was really killing it today.

"What Hansolie here means to say is, it's nice to meet you too," Mingyu interjected, "Now, onto more important matters - I want evidence," he said in reference to the previous subject.

"Not even a 'hello'? Not even gonna let me get to know your friend?", you looked over at him with a grin that Vernon was too flustered to return.

Before he could even consider interjecting, Mingyu grabbed onto your wrist, pulling you over to the bench press Jeonghan had been sitting on to demonstrate the skill Seokmin had declared you'd been looking to show off to Mingyu. Jeonghan got up as soon as you approached, giving you a grin that told Vernon you were familiar with each other before walking over to where Vernon was standing. He seemed to always keep some distance between himself and any actual exercise. Respectable.

Without even needing to be asked, Seokmin and Chan stood nearby, ready to spot you in case it were necessary while Mingyu helped you load the weights onto the bar.

"So. She's cute, huh?", Jeonghan leaned over to Vernon's side, voice low to ensure the others didn't hear.

"Huh?"

"Y/N. She's really pretty, isn't she?"

"Dude, shut up."

The elder simply snickered, going back to slurping at the basically empty cup of iced coffee he'd been nursing this entire time.

Vernon continued watching you, spacing out from any commentary the other boys had been giving you as you began a set, instead solely focused on you.

As you laid on the bench, your shirt rode up, exposing the tiniest spandex shorts that dug into the muscle hidden under them. Your back arched in order to lift the weighted bar, giving him perfect sight of your silhouette despite the baggy shirt you had on.

God, your body was sculpted ridiculously. Your body was toned, which showed through perfectly from the position you were currently in. The sweat dampening your clothes didn't help matters either.

Vernon wasn't one to thirst on a random Tuesday afternoon, yet here he was, eyes glued to you as if he hadn't just met you. He might've felt more guilty, but both you and his friends were too distracted to notice him, so he let himself indulge this one time.

But then Jeonghan interrupted again.

"Are you sure you don't think she's pretty?", he snickered.

"Fuck, fine! Yes, she's obviously very pretty. What do you want?", he took his eyes away from you to face the manifestation of annoying standing next to him, a satisfied grin on his face.

"Nothing. I was just wondering," he shrugged, lying through his teeth.

Meanwhile, two of his other friends were cheering you on while Mingyu half-heartedly attempted at trash talking you into failing. Even as you carried what to Vernon was incomprehensible weight, you cursed out at Mingyu, something which Vernon appreciated.

Fuck. You were cool.

You were pretty, clearly very confident, strong, got along with his friends, and just incredibly cool. And Vernon had only known you for like ten minutes.

Was this a crush? Did he have a crush on a girl he'd just met?

He was 26. Crushes were so high school, what the hell was happening to him?

"Dude, are you blushing?"

"Han, I swear to god-"

"Oh my god, you are!", the way his eyes lit up at the realization was like it was christmas morning to him. Jeonghan had a strange fascination with mischief Vernon never really understood.

"Who's blushing?"

And suddenly there was another presence next to him, coming to a halt to watch you on what was now your second set of bench presses.

"Nonnie's in love," Jeonghan snickered.

"Shit, with who? Wait, don't tell me," Hoshi stopped for a second to ponder before shaking his head as he gave up, "Never mind. Tell me."

Vernon shook his head. He was friends with idiots.

"Y/N!"

"Dude, not so loud!", Vernon's eyes widened, face only going back to its natural poker face when he noticed you were still being entertained by his three loud friends.

"Dude, wait, that makes sense. They'd make the perfect couple," Hoshi gasped at the revelation., "They're both movie freaks and couch potatoes. But Y/N's way cooler than Vernon," he added.

Jeonghan nodded along in agreement.

You were into movies? You didn't give him the vibe of a couch potato, though. I mean, you were lying there, immense weight on your hands as you challenged the biggest gym buff he knew.

Vernon was about to question them on this assessment. They'd clearly thought about this before, which he wasn't sure whether it was good news for his newfound crush or not. But before he could at least complain at the slight thrown at him, he heard cheering from the spot where he'd been watching you, finally turning back to face you.

"Dude, three sets of eighty pounds with your frame? You're crazy. You might actually be stronger than Mingyu," Seokmin praised you as he offered up a high-five.

"I can do 200 pounds-"

"But you're a tree. It doesn't count," Chan disregarded him, instead choosing to join Seokmin in dapping you up.

Vernon hadn't noticed as he watched you, but Hoshi and Jeonghan had also joined in, leaving him alone in watching you from a small distance away. He went back to feeling kind of out of place.

But he liked seeing his friends with you. It was odd. He'd met many of his friends' friends, but he always felt entirely indifferent about them.

You were different. Vernon felt himself smiling as he watched you snatch the $50 from Mingyu's hand and turn to Hoshi and Jeonghan with a triumphant smile on your face.

And then you looked past them, spotting him and walking the few steps over to him.

"So, gonna congratulate me, new guy?"

He scoffed in amusement.

"I'm new?"

"Here? Clearly. I have seniority at this gym. Now, be a gentleman and congratulate me on robbing your friend of $50."

Vernon couldn't help but return your satisfied smile. You were fun.

"Congrats. Well deserved," he chose to say. He needed to remain nonchalant after his earlier embarrassment.

"Now, c'mon. I'm buying everyone something from the snack bar to celebrate Gyu's defeat," you turned back to head over to the guys, Vernon now following along.

"Fifty's probably not gonna be enough for six people-", someone spoke, Vernon wasn't sure who, too focused on walking by your side.

"It's fine. Gyu'll pay the difference," you shrugged.

"Hey!"

Were you into him? Were you into Mingyu?

You'd been pretty friendly with all his friends that day, but it was impossible not to notice the special attention you paid to Mingyu. But then again, who didn't have a soft spot for Mingyu?

There was no indication you liked him, or that he'd even left some sort of impression on you. If anything, you probably remembered him as the idiot who almost took out both your and his foot. Or maybe as the dumbass who couldn't lift the measly forty-pound dumbbells Chan had been carrying with ease.

Meanwhile, you'd looked for Mingyu, looking far too happy to tease him and take his money.

Maybe Vernon was behind on the current dating world, but the two of you gave him more-than-friends vibes.

But then again, Mingyu held a flirtationship with literally everyone who came into his vicinity. Hell, he was pretty sure he'd at some point flirted with him without realizing it. Except this was an instance in which Vernon needed to be sure before he made a move. Not that he was too scared to do it or anything ...

Sadly for Vernon, he had been too much of a wuss to ask Mingyu about you directly, so he went for someone who he hoped wouldn't tease him.

"So, uhm, do you know Y/N?"

God, he sounded so needy. He was usually smoother than this. He had game. Right?

He'd decided that Joshua his safest bet. He was the only one out of all the guys who could maybe be normal about his curiosity about you.

Joshua could only chuckle at him. His eyes were too focused on scooping at the remnants of the fro-yo Vernon had bought him under the pretense of just hanging out. Casual.

"So you've met. You like her, huh?"

"Dude, what is this? Why does everyone keep asking me that? We've met once," Vernon frowned.

Was he that easy to read?

Joshua shrugged, "She seems like your type. She's single too."

"She is?"

"So you are interested," Joshua grinned.

He groaned. Did all his friends have to be such instigators? Men were the nosier gender, he was sure.

"Listen-"

"It's fine, 'Sol. I don't judge you. She's very pretty. Fun too."

"You talked to Jeonghan, didn't you?"

"Yeah. He told me you almost broke your foot in front of her and proceeded to fuck her with your eyes for like ten minutes straight. Not your finest moment."

Maybe Vernon's memory was failing him, but he was pretty sure those weren't the actual events that happened. Sure, he'd made the entire situation way more embarrassing in his head, but it hadn't been that bad. Right?

"I did not eye-fuck her," he rebutted, "I checked her out. I don't think she really noticed, though."

"Is that good? Wouldn't you rather just ask her out?"

"Uh, am I even her type?", Vernon scratched the back of his neck awkwardly as he reclined back on his chair, "She seemed to be kind of into Mingyu."

"Dude."

"Listen, it's just-"

"Mingyu just has that effect on people. They don't like each other. Not like that. They're just friends," clarified Joshua, "We all met when we started going to this gym last May. She just became closest to Gyu and Kyeom cause they practically live there."

"So they've never ..."

"No, man, I swear. You can ask Gyu. Or better yet, ask her out,."

"It's not that easy!", Vernon grumbled, hand crumbling the fro-yo container in his hand.

"Why not? You've never had trouble with girls. That's Channie. He's a mess," Josh chuckled.

There was just something about you. Vernon had never become this infatuated with someone. It was kind of embarrassing.

"She just ... She makes me nervous for some reason," Vernon admitted, "She's friends with all my best friends and I never even knew about her. She's funny and cool and confident, and-"

"And she's hot," finished Joshua for him.

"She's so fucking hot, man," Vernon groaned as Joshua chuckled.

"So, what, do you think she's out of your league or something?"

"Maybe? You tell me. I need an objective opinion," Vernon said with more seriousness than intended.

Joshua pretended to mull over it, hand scratching at chin as he started up to contemplate it up until Vernon groaned at him to stop.

"Dude, you're such an idiot. I'm not answering that. Just ask her out!"

All Joshua received in response was a muffled groan as Vernon let himself fall back on his chair. The dramatics felt necessary to him at that moment.

"So, are you going to keep going to the gym?", Joshua laughed at his friend.

"I'm a man on a mission."

"Lost?"

"Fuck! Wh- Oh, shit, hi. Sorry, you scared me," Vernon's hand clutched at his chest in surprise, ears slightly red in embarrassment.

Did he really have to embarrass himself every time he saw you?

"Sorry I keep catching you off guard," you chuckled, "You just looked kind of lost. You've been staring into space for the past three minutes."

"Oh, uh, right. It's only my second time here. I'm not sure where all the guys went," he mumbled.

Now facing you, he tried to take quick note of your appearance. You'd come from the opposite direction as him, meaning you'd likely only gotten here just now. That explained the lack of sweat and your pristine hair, as opposed to last time. It made him wonder what you looked like on a regular basis, outside of the context of the gym.

"Right. Well, they usually go to the basketball court on Sundays, so most of them are probably there now. I hate playing sports with Han and Boo, so I usually just avoid them," you explained.

You seemed to have a great hold on his friends' gym lifestyle.

"We could go look for them," you began, "Or we could hang out on our own."

You smiled at him expectantly. It was a cute and innocent smile, as if you'd been hoping for an opportunity to get him alone.

"Do you, uh, do you mean in the gym?"

You nodded, "C'mon. I'm sure none of the guys actually showed you around, did they?", he shook his head, "Men suck. I'll give you a tour, y'know since you're new," you extended your hand out to him, eyes expectant.

With no time (nor dignity) to wipe his hand of any possible sweat, he grabbed onto your own, gulping at your hold.

This was moving faster than he thought. But then again, you probably just felt comfortable around him due to his association with the rest of your friends. It must be that.

Once you made it out of the general area of the gym, you let go of his hand, now opting for walking side by side instead. The place was quite spacious, so it gave more than enough room for the two of you to take your time walking without getting into anyone's ways. Not that Vernon wanted to extend his time with you as much as possible or anything.

"So, how come you've never been here before?", you suddenly asked whilst showing him what you'd donned as the 'poser gym buff' part of the gym. It looked like it, considering it was filled with shirtless muscular men, all ignoring the blatant 'No Nudity Allowed' sign you'd just walked by.

"Uh, before I answer that - How much did the guys tell you about me?"

You chuckled, "Just, stuff. I'd rather hear it from you, though."

Then you smiled at him again. As if you had no idea it messed with his brain chemistry.

"Just, uhm, not really a gym guy like the other guys. Not sporty, like at all. Always got hit by balls in P.E. Kwan drags me to street basketball matches sometimes, but I always end up embarrassing myself. Oh, and I can't really lift, as you probably noticed the other day," he found himself rambling. Very unusual of him.

"Hmm. Yeah, I can see why you don't come to the gym with the rest of them," you laughed, "But I think you should. You bring a nice balance to whatever's going on with the rest."

"Well, uh, I could be persuaded," he made his attempt at flirting, internally cursing at himself while also praying that it didn't fall flat and force him to never show his face in front of you again.

"Oh, really? I think I could help with that," your tone turned a little softer as you gave him a suggestive smile, "Wanna go check out the pool with me? It's usually empty this time of day."

"Oh, uh, yes! I- uh, yeah," he mumbled his way through, gulping when you took his hand again and led him out of the room.

That's when Vernon's mind started going a mile a minute, but instead of freaking out, he let himself be taken away by you.

~

So, maybe taking you up on your offer to use the pool hadn't been the best idea.

Everything was fine. Really. The pool area was pretty clean and the water felt nice. The temperature was just perfect, allowing for anyone who wanted a quick dip to enjoy themselves without risking frostbite like at the local community pool.

Only issue was you.

According to all prior experience, you had proven to be nothing but a health concern for Vernon since meeting you only a few days ago.

Despite the lukewarm water, Vernon was burning up.

Who thought it'd be a good idea to go to the pool, alone, with his crush as she paraded herself around in a sad excuse for a bikini? Was this even allowed? He was seeing too much skin. Which wasn't an issue for Vernon! He'd never call himself a prude, but ... In this one instance, he wished for some of puritanical rule to prevent him from having to see you swim laps in a bikini that left very little to his imagination.

Except, of course, the material in front of him did give him a lot of room for some very imaginative thoughts.

Vernon had no option but to dip his feet in the pool, sitting at the edge with a towel on his lap in order to cover what he was sure was a small chub growing under his trousers. Meanwhile, he watched you swim for a good ten minutes, dreading the moment you stopped and approached him again.

"Are you really not going to swim with me?", you called from afar, having reached the other side of the pool, "The water's so nice and there's no one here."

"Uhm, nope, I hate getting wet. I'll just watch you," he slapped himself mentally as soon as he said it.

"Well, I wanna get to know you," you told him as you exited the pool, killing Vernon with every step you took in his direction up until you sat next to him. Your legs were practically touching.

"Hi," you smiled at him.

There was an air of confidence you carried every time you spoke to him. He was half sure you were fully aware of his crush and were simply banking on it.

"Hi," he said back, unknowing of where to settle his eyes.

You likely caught onto this, giggling under your breath.

"Vernon."

"Yeah?", he looked to you. He deliberately avoided looking at any of your bare skin, staring directly into your eyes with widened eyes.

"You can look at me, you know. I want you to."

"Oh, uh, I- I didn't want to be rude or anyth- Wait, what?"

You giggled again, "You're funny. Are you this much of a mess with everyone else, or am I getting special treatment?"

"Special treatment for sure."

Again, you laughed. Good. At least he wasn't fucking this up.

"You know, the guys told me you were this ... very stoic and chill type of guy. I was wondering if I'd get to see that guy if I got you alone. But you're even worse without the guys around to hackle you," you accused jokingly.

"So you're doing this on purpose?"

He turned his body to face you more, allowing for your knees to actually knock together this time. The dampness of your skin graced his leg, but it was your bare touch that made him shiver. Still, he felt like less of a loser now. He had somewhat of a handle on the conversation this time around.

"Depending what you mean by 'this.'"

"The bikini? Getting me alone? Sitting this close to me knowing I have to override my brain in order to not look anywhere past your eyes?"

Okay, he was flirting now, apparently. Unexpected, but he welcomed it. His mouth was going faster than his brain. But the slight shift in your expression told him it was a welcomed development.

"Yes," you bit back a smile as you confirmed it, "I wanted to see whether the feeling was mutual or if you were just socially incompetent. No offense."

"None taken. And, uh, what's your verdict?"

"I think it'd be more fun if you tell me," you challenged.

Either he was crazy or you were gradually leaning closer to him. Or maybe it was him. Both? Either way, the proximity increased.

"I do like you. It's painfully obvious and probably worrying how much since we've only met once, but I even went asking my friends about you," he found himself admitting.

"Really? That's funny, because I was asking Mingyu about you," you revealed.

So you didn't like Mingyu. Noted.

"Oh? I, uh, what'd he say?"

You hummed, scooting over and shamelessly laying one of your legs atop his, body leaning completely towards his own. The distance between you was practically nonexistent now, with your eyes even zeroing in on his lips as you spoke.

"He told me you can be shy sometimes. That I should help you out a little."

"A-and, are you? Going to help me out, I mean," he could hear his own gulp.

"Nope," you popped the 'p,' "I want you to take what you want."

"That's ... You're kind of mean," he chuckled breathlessly.

You chuckled back, but you were clearly frustrated by how much he was dragging it.

Without having to move, his arm wrapped around you, courtesy of you literally taking it and placing it on your hip. He was obedient, so he followed along. Next, your hand placed itself on his cheek, tilting his head down and abolishing any sort of distance left. Your lips were practically touching now.

"Vernon, just do it. I want you to. I really want you to."

And so he kissed you.

Immediately, you deepened it, taking control of it all.

All you wanted was for him to take the first step, which in reality he didn't. You held all the power, which you knew. Still, he enjoyed this. He liked that you knew the effect you had on him and that you knew what to do with it.

Plus, he'd be an idiot to complain about your sticking your tongue in his mouth.

Like any thinking, breathing man, he continued to kiss you, not bothering to stifle any groans he left against your lips. He completely disregarded the fact that you were in a public space, that anyone could walk in at any moment — maybe even one of his friends. But it was hard to care when your fingers tangled through the tresses of his hair and sucked at his tongue.

The kiss only stopped when you harshly pulled at his hair, physically removing his face from your own. He mumbled out a few complaints as you did, but eventually woke up from his trance and cleared his throat as you pulled away.

"It's almost 1 o'clock," you said, but all he paid attention to were your swollen lips, "There's a swimming class at one," you began getting up, towering over Vernon as you dried yourself up, "So unless you want to get a fine for fondling in private property, we should go."

You held out your hand for him to stand up, surprising Vernon when your stance didn't falter when helping lift up his weight. That's when he was reminded about your affinity for weight lifting. Hot.

The fleeting thought of you manhandling him crossed through his mind, but he shook it away not wanting to risk a boner at the gym.

"You planned this, didn't you?"

"Maybe. But it's more fun like this, isn't it?", you giggled as you walked away.

Vernon shook his head to himself as he watched you — very focused on the show you gave him as you walked away.

Vernon continued to see you on an almost daily basis after that — or at least every day in which he got dragged to the gym. Except maybe not in the way that he had hoped.

After that time in which you led him to the privacy of the empty pool patio, the two of you did not spend any time alone. Every single time he saw you was exclusively at the gym, with all the other guys in your immediate vicinity. He didn't even get the chance to speak to you, mostly unable to due to your attention being shared between thirteen men seemingly starved for attention (with him being the biggest culprit).

Like a dumbass, he didn't ask for your number at any time. His shyness around you had mostly left him, but he was still an awkward idiot when it came to taking further steps towards you.

And it wasn't as if you'd stopped provoking him. If anything, your efforts had doubled. Your gym outfits went from baggy shirts and spandex to tiny little sets that showed off as much skin as possible — he had even confirmed with Seungkwan that this was a brand new development in your wardrobe. You were insistent in eyeing him down any time it was his turn to do some sets. You'd bite your lip and stare at him as if you wanted to jump him on the spot. It was safe to say that this messed with his performance (not that he had good form in the first place).

A week of this went by, making him slowly lose his mind. All of his friends became privy to his frustrations, but he was mostly met with mockery. Some told him he was an idiot, that he should just grow some balls and ask you to come over to his apartment. Others simply laughed at how weak he was under your attention.

On the eighth day of this hell, he finally decided to do something about it. If you wanted to play with his sanity, then he'd feed right into it. He didn't care to look like a wimp or like he was down bad for you — he was both of those things, and proud.

Mondays were the day in which the guys went to the gym at night rather than during the day. Something about a lower influx of people at that specific time. And you, you had a tendency of attending the gym at the same time as them most of the time, which meant you were also present.

It was almost closing time by the time the guys were done working out that day. Vernon had to endure three hours due to their insistence that they 'might as well stay til closing.'

As they began to pack up, of course Mingyu managed to hold up the part-timers who were about to close, wondering if it'd be fine to stay an extra ten minutes so a few of his friends could catch the showers they desperately needed. Being Mingyu, of course the part-timers didn't stand a chance to his charms.

Vernon decided to take this as an opportunity to find you alone. The guys (who loved to hog your attention, apparently) would finally be out of his way while he sought you out. It was the perfect chance to at least ask you for your number. Before you left the guys and headed over to the girls' locker rooms, you made sure to eye Vernon far too suggestively for him to misunderstand your intentions. Or at least he hoped so.

For once, Vernon was thankful for Mingyu's habit to befriend every person in his vicinity, as his yapping allowed Vernon to sneak into the women's locker rooms to find you there. It was also thanks to him that he'd be able to you alone rather than accidentally bump into some other gym-goer. He made a mental note to thank him later before beginning his search for you.

This search didn't last long. It was clear to Vernon as soon as he crossed the threshold to the showers in the girl's locker room that you'd been expecting him.

In nothing but a towel, you stood next to a running shower, lower lip trapped under your teeth as you eyed him down. No words to be exchanged. All you had to do was extend your hand out to him for him to finally unfreeze and do something.

Immediately, you dropped your towel and dragged him into the shower, pulling him in so that he'd have you pinned up against the dampened wall. His gym clothes got soaked, but he figured it was worth the temporary inconvenience. Especially when your hands began pawing at him to get undressed within seconds of kissing him.

Just like last time, Vernon lost all sense of time and space in the kiss. His hands were way less awkward than he was, confident in their touching of your body. The wetness of the running water only added to it all, allowing Vernon's hands to easily slide across every curve.

"You took too long to make a move," you huffed into his lips.

Your hands expressed frustration. They glided through his dampening hair, pulling it in order to get his mouth to open for access for your tongue. It was clear to him you had a tendency to take what you wanted, and he was ready to be completely consumed by you.

"I told you," he mumbled, "you make me act like an idiot."

That pulled a chuckle from you as your lips traveled down the wet skin of his neck. Teeth pulled lightly at the skin there, surely leaving reddened marks behind their wake. Every bite and suckle was met by a squeeze of your hips, courtesy of Vernon's needy hands.

"So I'm not being too forward? This is fine?", you pulled away for half a second before Vernon grumbled as he reconnected your lips. You chuckled at his neediness.

"Please be as forward as humanly possible. It's hot."

The two of you continued kissing. Had it not been for the echoing of the water hitting the floor, Vernon was sure the obscene sound of your kissing would've made him blush. It wasn't like him to play tonsil tennis in public like this, but you made his common sense leave his body.

Then you made things all the worse for him.

Pulling away, you eyed him before wrapping your hand around him. Vernon made the mistake of looking down, finding your hand slowly working him, pace so slow it was surely meant to tease. He groaned as he looked back up, eyes becoming stuck at your bare tits for the first time since you'd dropped your towel for him.

"You're so fucking hot," he groaned almost pained.

"Yeah? You too, baby," you grinned as you sped up your hand.

Baby? Was he baby now? Fuck.

"I- fuck, this won't be fun if you keep going," he winced despite the increasing pleasure. This only encouraged you to make things even worse for him, though. Your lips attached to his neck again, dick now being grasped with both hands as one worked him and the other tended to his balls.

"I'm having fun," a breath was felt against his skin as you chuckled between kisses to his chest, "I want you to cum right here," you laid one last kiss before moving to his ear, licking and pulling at the lobe, "If you're good, you'll get me on my knees after."

Vernon almost lost it then. He didn't care what you'd ask of him. He needed this. At no other point in his life had he ever needed something as much as he needed to obey your every whim.

He groaned and buried his face in your neck as his hands continued to fondle at you. They took turns between your ass and your breasts, losing any decorum they had left. This was the only pleasure he could give you while you jerked him off, but you loved it. Your pretty sighs against his ear told him that you were getting off on the effect you had on him. His lack of control as he felt you up to his heart's contentment had you reeling. It was sickening how much he enjoyed that knowledge.

"'m gonna cum, fuck. Shit, I need- oh, fuck," he babbled. You squeezed and twisted and played at his cock in ways that had nonsensical words leaving his lips. No further coherent cries left him whilst you had your fun with him.

"That's it, baby. Cum for me," you continued to instigate.

As per usual, he was yours to toy with. His body followed your instructions before he could even process your words. The cum splattered on your stomach before trailing down and going down the drain, washed away by the wasted water.

Again, you kissed him, this time without the separation of your hand on his dick standing between you. His arms held onto you tighter than before as he pulled you as close as possible. Sensitivity sparked on his dick when you began absentmindedly grinding against him. Despite the water surrounding you, he was sure it was your own wetness that he felt as you humped him.

When he let his hand explore between your legs, he had to bite back a groan. You were incredibly soaked, instantly dampening his fingers with your nectar.

Your sigh of pleasure against his lips told him all he needed to know as he felt between your legs. A tiny nod from you was confirmation that you wanted him, so his fingers entered you. But not before teasing at your folds with a hard knuckle, up until you bit his lip and grumbled at him.

"Shit, you're tight."

"I'll be tighter when you fuck me," you moaned.

"I, fuck, yeah? You'll let me fuck you, baby?", he breathed out, beginning to scissor his fingers in and out of you, curling where he knew would have you keening for him.

You gasped out a moan, hands digging into his chest in a worthless attempt to both pull and push him away. Head thrown back, Vernon took advantage to scrape his teeth on the skin there, sucking lightly at the points that had you shuddering. His read on your body was immediate. It gave him a surge of confidence to note every little reaction you had to him. Every moan and every gasp was taken in by him, stored in his hippocampus for future use.

"Oh, fuck, right there, shit, Vernon," you whimpered.

Long fingers, pointed and curled in a come-hither motion began repeating their movements. Touching that spongy part of you, Vernon continued to pull cries out of you, uncaring that anyone could walk by and hear you despite the running shower. The water was beginning to run cold, but your orgasm mattered more to Vernon.

"'m gonna cum, Nonnie," you warned, letting your head fall onto his shoulder.

"Cum, shit. Wanna fuck you so bad."

You tightened at that, causing his hardening length to twitch at the thought of you wanting him as much as he did you — though that was impossible to him.

When your orgasm found you, Vernon knew he was in out of his depth. Your back curled as his free hand held you up against him, causing your chest to dig into his own. Head thrown back and fingers digging into his biceps, you were a sight he would never forget. A low groan of his own mixed with your breathy whines at the mere view of your pleasure overtaking you in such a way — and because of him!

His fingers continued to play at your middle throughout your orgasm, refusing to stop toying at your swollen clit until you whined at him to stop with a halfhearted grumble.

He chuckled at the sight. Somehow you managed to look adorable to him right after what had just happened between you.

Just when he thought you'd stop to at least take a breather, you cupped his face and pulled him in for another kiss. His fingers were still dripping with you, hand simply flying between your bodies to ensure he didn't get your own substances on you. But shocking him once again, you pulled away, grabbing onto his hand and slipping his fingers in your mouth.

Eyeing him down as you sucked at his fingers, his mouth shot open, letting out a silent groan at the sight — Depraved. That's the only way Vernon could describe himself at that moment as he watched your eyes roll back as you sucked at his digits in your mouth.

"I wanna suck your dick," you deadpanned as soon as you pulled his fingers out of your mouth.

All he could do was choke on his own spit, full well knowing that his dick twitched against his stomach, gracing your own due to the proximity between you.

"I, you don't have to-"

"But I want to. Do you not?"

Your head tilted and your eyebrows furrowed as if you were confused by his hesitation. He was confused too.

As much as he wanted to take you up on your offer, — and very enthusiastically so — he knew there was no way he could last more than one more orgasm (and that was saying a lot).

And despite the thought of you on your knees, mouth wrapped around him as you eyed him in that way you knew made him feel faint making him almost lose his mind, what he wanted most at that moment (or ever, he was pretty sure) was to be inside you.

The thirst he felt for you at that moment was unmatched. It was a sickly feeling considering he'd only known you for a bit over a week, yet your effect on him had been immediate — That, and the fact that you were standing in front of him, completely nude and dripping wet (everywhere), eyeing him like you wanted to devour him until there was no man left in him.

"I wanna fuck you," his voice broke as he said it, a testament to how needy he felt in that moment.

"Yeah?"

There was that pleased, teasing smile on your lips again. And then a hand wrapped around him again, but this time directing him towards your center, holding him hostage as his tip graced at your mound.

"Like this? Want me against the wall? While the guys wait for me to finish 'showering'?", you were challenging him, he knew it.

He took the bait.

For the nth time, your lips connected in a heavy kiss. It was dubious whose spit made its way to his chin, but that was the last thing he had in his mind.

Grabbing onto your toned thigh, he lifted it to wrap around his waist, pushing himself up against you even closer, ridding you of even the smallest inch of distance. Meanwhile, your hand led his cock to your entrance, teasing yourself (and him) by running it up and down your slit, stopping to circle his tip on your clit.

Vernon's forehead fell against yours with a groan at the feeling of your warmth, a whimper leaving him when you took that chance to lick into his mouth, beginning to push him inside, but only the tip.

"F-fuck, please," he pleaded against your lips.

"Begging now?", you chuckled.

"I'll beg every time if it means you'll let me fuck you."

And he meant it more than he realized. Whimpers left his mouth as soon as you began leading him in, legs shaking and a sigh of relief leaving his lips at finally being inside you.

You were so tight, so hot, so fucking wet. He could feel his eyes itching to roll back all the way to his brain at how perfect you felt. Grabby fingers held onto your damp skin, uncaring that the water hitting his back was now cold and only proved as an obstacle to fucking you. Any surrounding circumstances were locked up in the back burner. His brain was just a constant repetition of yesyesyesyes as he willed himself not to cum within the first minute.

"Fuck, you feel so fucking good ..." he groaned out.

"I'll feel even better when you move," you huffed out a breath.

"Just one second, baby. You feel so good, I'm sorry."

Readjusting his hands on your hips, he brought you closer, raising the leg you had wrapped around him a bit and leaning you upwards. From this angle, he began to move, starting off slow to test the waters. And god, did that reward him.

The prettiest sigh he'd ever heard left your lips, accompanied by subsequent gasps of pleasure. Sharp nails dug into his back, petulant in their attempt to pull him closer, but the took it like a champ.

"Nonnie, fuck! R-right there!", you cried out.

And then he was gone.

He was no longer himself. No longer caring to extend his orgasm and only worried about hitting that spot. The spot that had your back arching and your chest pressing onto his. That same spot that morphed your face in a way that Vernon knew he'd remember for endless nights after this.

Continuing to piston desperately into you. Strength he didn't know he had suddenly took over as he manhandled your body as he wished. Every thrust was accompanied by your own attempts at pushing back against him, leading to a depraved harmony of slapping skin and gasps of pleasure.

"Didn't, shit, didn't think you were this strong," you hiccuped out.

"That's what good pussy does to a man," he joked, but deep down probably meant it.

You tried to laugh, but the sound was interrupted by another moan, head throwing itself back and resting against the shower wall. You tightened yourself around him then, groaning something out to him about not making you laugh. He couldn't really process it when you were suctioning him in so deliciously.

Soon enough, he felt his high approaching, making him panic and accelerate the speed of his thrusts. His mind was going a mile a minute as he attempted to take you down with him, mumbling out expletives into your skin, huffing and groaning at the way you internmently tightened around him.

"Need you to cum with me, okay? Please, it'll be so fucking embarrassing if you don't."

You chuckled between gasps, pulling him in for a kiss, "I'm there, just, fuck, keep doing that."

He was far too gone, lips barely able to kiss back in the midst of his orgasm taking over. He couldn't do this. Couldn't handle how good it all felt. Couldn't deal with your tongue in his mouth or your nails digging into his skin, much less with the sudden strangulation your cunt performed on his cock as your own orgasm arrived. And then your high pitched moans came into the picture, making him truly lose his mind.

"It's so good, oh god, so fucking good. You feel so- fuck, shit, so tight, baby," he babbled against your lips.

"So good, hmm? Fucking me so good, Non," you moaned back.

Vernon swore he blacked out after that, not knowing what happened as soon as the dramatic influx of pleasure reached him. The aftermath was full of dizziness and a feeling of fulfillment Vernon had never experienced before. It was like waking up from an amazing nap, except this time he was still plunged deeply into the prettiest girl he'd ever seen as she pressed lazy kisses to his chest.

"Are you alive?", you asked when you reached his lips, pecking them once, twice, thrice before he tried deepening it, only to find you pulling away with a giggle.

"Maybe not. I'd be fine if I wasn't. That would've been a great way to go."

"You're funny after sex," you noted.

"It's a little easier when I'm already inside you. It's less nerve-wracking that way."

"Yeah? So are you gonna go back to stuttering through every sentence once you pull out?", you tightened yourself around him to somehow prove your point, making him wince.

"Nope. Staying here. I'll even risk hypothermia with this cold ass water," that earned him another laugh and even a kiss.

"Okay, Romeo. Mingyu can only hold off the part-timers for so long, c'mon," you pressed your hands on his chest, making him groan but follow along to your instruction as per usual. — maybe this was something to look into. Later.

~

"I was not expecting that from you," you breathed out a laugh once you were dressed, exiting the dressing room hand-in-hand.

You were kidding. Maybe.

"I told you I'm not as socially awkward as I seem. I'm just an idiot around you," he chuckled. His hand swung back and forth with yours jovially.

He was very happy right now. Sue him.

"Well, a very skilled idiot, then."

He laughed along with you as you approached the main lobby, finding two familiar men leaning against a wall. It was clear in their demeanor that they'd been waiting a while, with Mingyu sighing in frustration when he spotted you.

"Half an hour? What could you have been doing in there for half an hour?", whined Seokmin.

"Well-"

"Don't. Rhetorical question," interrupted Mingyu.

The two of you snickered, walking past them and towards the exit. Both boys exchanged a look as they followed slightly behind you.

"Hold on. No 'thank you'?", Mingyu interrupted again.

Mingyu stopped you from walking away, grabbing onto your arm so you'd turn around and subsequently causing your hand to disconnect from Vernon's

You sighed in exaggerated annoyance, "Fine. Thank you, Gyu. I guess I owe you one."

"Wait, what?", Vernon looked quizzically at you both.

Mingyu grinned stupidly at both of you, with an equally idiotic Seokmin standing next to him with a mirrored expression.

"She asked us if we could stall so she'd get you alone," Mingyu started.

"I was just going to pull the fire alarm, but Gyu figured that probably wouldn't work," Seokmin continued, "and now Gyu scored a date with the receptionist, so all wins here, I guess."

Vernon turned to you, both scandalized and amused, "You-"

"Hey, I told you. You were taking too long. A girl has needs," you shrugged, grabbing onto his hand again and beginning to walk away as if it was nothing.

Vernon could've argued back. But following you seemed like the more obvious response.

Maybe he'd been a total loser throughout all this, but he scored the girl in the end. All was good.

Except now he'd probably have to go to the gym every other day.

to read short 1.7k word continuation (+ all other previously written bonus content) you can go join my svt monthly tier on patreon!

content: established relationship, afab reader, smut, morning sex, dry humping, tit worship, sorta switch!vernon, etc.

wc: 332 (teaser); 1789 (full drabble)

sneak peak:

"God, no, I can't go again," Vernon grumbled, face planted on his pillow.

The man was practically passed out, unmoving as he stayed cuddled into his blankets. The only movements out of him were the occasional squeezing of his arms around the polar bear plush you'd gotten him a few weeks back.

Vernon was more than content staying like this for the rest of the day. Only thing that would've made it all even better would be if you hadn't insisted on getting up and away from his arms.

Unfortunately for him, you were strong enough to flip him over.

Usually, this would be something he enjoyed. Something he keened over, even. But the context was different.

This time you weren't flipping him over to straddle him and make him lose his mind. No, this time was so you could continue to insist at him to get up, but now forcing him to look you in the eye as you did so.

"Vernon, we agreed on this," you pouted at him.

You were too far for his liking. While he laid on bed, body completely stretched out and occupying way too much space, you were propped up on your knees on the same bed, except not close enough for him to pull you into him. This was strategic, he guessed.

"It's been three months. How much longer do I have to keep going to the gym?"

"It's kind of a lifetime type of thing."

He groaned.

"If I show up without you you're just gonna get twelve men barging in here in an hour," you reasoned, crawling closer to him.

"Is there any way I can convince you to not make me go?"

"Is there any way I can convince you to go?", you rebutted, eyes flirty.

Vernon knew this move.

"You know you can convince me. You're very well aware of all the ways in which you can convince me. It's kind of mean of you to threaten me like this."

...

find the 18+ continuation on patreon!

if you have trouble finding it on there, just let me know!!<3

[ceesimz]

Lavender

A date that unfortunately doesn't go as planned. (autistic!reader - angst -> fluff)

Reverie series here as always! A verrrry real experience depicted in this one, with some amazing help from @pickledwoso that i am very grateful for, thank youuu <3

“Engel, are you ready to leave?” Alexia sang as she headed out of the bedroom towards where you were at the door rocking back and forth on the balls of your feet, waiting for her.

“Yes, you fool, I've been ready for the past half hour.” You rolled your eyes at her teasingly, laughing when she lightly pawed at your side where she knew you were ticklish. “Come on! You're taking all day.”

“Ay, it is our day-off, I can take my time for once. No rushing, just calm, and me and you.” She gave an alluring smile, sliding her hand down your arm until she intertwined your fingers, then leaned forwards to kiss your forehead. “Are you excited?”

“Very. I love when we do this.” You told her with a squeeze of her hand. The girl grinned, her eyes brimming with excitement and complete happiness seeping from her pores, like the prospect of visiting a farmer's market with her girlfriend was as exciting as a third Ballon d’Or.

“Me too.” She gently knocked your chin up and pecked your lips before brushing back a strand of hair behind your ear. “Now, are we ready, mi vida?”

“For the love of god, yes!”

Any time the club issued some days-off, one of the things highest on the list for yourself and Alexia was visiting the local farmer’s market. You’d buy the best of the best fresh organic products and cook together a dish of food that, combined with the quality time you'd spend with each other, would make for a night-in together that was so much better than going out somewhere. 

These days had become somewhat of a tradition, and with it being the penultimate day of the short summer break after the tournament Alexia had gone to, it was absolute perfection. The last day had no plans apart from relaxing and spending time together before the season started again. You couldn't think of a better way to spend the last bit of time off than a date to a familiar, easy place with Alexia that was sure to give way for a fun afternoon and evening.

With it being the height of summer, Barcelona was especially warm, which was perhaps the first warning sign of the day.

“Ale, you really need to get your car in the garage, your AC sucks.” You groaned, the vents on full blast yet hardly doing a thing to cool you down against the 35 degree air outside. Your window was open and your head rested against the door dramatically, Alexia couldn’t help but chuckle at the sight even if she did feel a little bad about it.

“It’s got a service next week, they will fix it then. Sorry.” She winced, hardly breaking a sweat in the weather she was more than acclimated to whilst you seemed to be struggling before the pair of you had even left the car.

You shrugged her off because it's not exactly her fault her car's AC has been faulty since the spring, and focused all your attention on the life-saving breeze hitting your face as Alexia maneuvered through some tame midday traffic. Hot weather wasn't one of your favourite things in the world, as a matter of fact much more comfortable in minus degree weather with tiny icicles on your eyelashes, but a year into living under the blaze of the Barna sun you had no choice but to put up with it.

Though, your patience with the heat wore off quick. And in its wake, a simmering feeling of restlessness, which should have been yet another warning sign. But you were too deep in your determination for this to be a good day for anything to write you off.

The market was only a short drive away, the two of you having opted out of walking because, well, duh, the weather, and just as the sweat that found its place on your nose no more than five minutes after stepping out of your ice cold shower finally began to evaporate, it came crawling right back the second you got out of the car. Alexia was starting to feel uneasy about the day's plans, and, really, so were you, but you were set on pushing through the constrictive feeling that had settled in your bones when the first bit of heat came your way after leaving your flat. There wouldn't be much time in the coming weeks for a day like this with your girlfriend, you weren't about to wreck it for the both of you.

From where the car was parked to the entrance of the market, you walked in silence, hand in hand across slightly worn stone tiles until the rusted old gates of the park stood before you. Over the threshold of the entrance, paved tiles turning to cobble, you knew the chaos the market had in store for you. You didn’t know if you could handle it. The writing on the wall was in the prickly sensation in your skin that was all too familiar, as was the way every nerve in your body screamed in discomfort, almost like your soul was desperately trying to find a way out of your body.

You ignored it, and headed towards the stalls before Alexia could ask how you were.

This place was familiar; you knew the ins and outs of each stall, you knew where to go, you knew how long it took to get around. It shouldn’t be too hard, right? 

You loved this place, of course it’d be fine. It beamed with energy, with good vibes, with good people. With its colourful displays of the finest fruit and vegetables, it was more than just a market; it was the heartbeat of the surrounding neigbourhoods.

All kinds of scents and aromas swirled around each corner, weaving themselves into the fabrics of people’s clothes and lingering long after they’d left. They were intoxicatingly good, and it was evident in the looks of wonder on everybody’s face, old or young, experienced shopper or recent newcomer. Vendors positioned at every stall or tattered wagon called out their offerings in a chaotic yet melodic mix of Spanish and Catalan, grabbing the nearest fruit or veg to wave around like an auctioneer with a hammer, the only use for it being to wave off the flies dancing tauntingly around their goods. 

Locals haggled over prices with the farmers they’d come to know just as well as their own family; their loud and boisterous back-and-forth banter may have sounded like arguing to unknowing tourists, but to everyone else it was understood as just some good-humoured ribbing that they all delighted in. It was more of a shuffle than a walk throughout the place thanks to the tourists that seemed to stop in the middle of the aisles every second, clearly oblivious to the well-practiced dance of the locals. Elderly ladies pulled their clueless esposos around with one arm whilst they carried their wicker basket in the other, the woven willow groaning under the weight of the countless ingredients to be used in that night’s meal.

For a moment, as you paused off to the side whilst Alexia caught up with one of the stall owners, a fisherman with his catches of the week proudly on display, which you knew your girlfriend would end the conversation by buying enough fish meat to feed the five thousand, you took a moment to breathe. Everybody seemed relieved of their life’s burdens here, gathered closely in one space that was steeped in the essence of the world’s simplest pleasures; flavour, tradition, and community. Only, the smile that was usually imprinted on your face whenever you came was no more than a distant memory. 

Despite the fairly shadowed area, considering the park was fenced in by sporadic trees that skimmed the roofs of buildings that showed off the city’s beautiful architecture, it was still insufferably hot. It radiated off of the ground, rebounded off the buildings around, and the flurry of structures meant there was no wind breaking through to give a cool Mediterranean breeze like you had before. 

Alexia seemed none the wiser, enraptured by the surroundings like it was her first time there, her head on a swivel and marveling at the mouth-wateringly exceptional variety of things to choose from. You hadn’t really been taking it in, your eyes stuck to the back of her head as you followed her through, waiting on shaking legs whenever she laughed and joked with each worker she bought from. 

This labyrinth of every cook’s dream was well and truly alive, but you weren’t. You couldn’t absorb the intense feeling of belonging and sonder you got whenever you came here. It was too much. The thought ate away at you, as with every fly that landed on your skin or every person that brushed against you, you became more and more on edge. 

All the different smells, the different sounds, the crowd of people, they didn’t spark those usual feelings of contentment and peace that transpired for you normally. Instead, they felt oppressive, like they were attacking your senses. 

The concoction of aromas forced themselves inside your nose and overloaded you completely, the squeamish smell of fish and the fiery linger of hundreds of kinds of herbs and spices bringing on a pounding headache. Every squeak of a wicker basket as the willow was put under more pressure could have been a gunshot for all you knew, the way it echoed around the tunnels of your ears. Anytime someone briefly put a hand on you as they moved past had you flinching, hating the unexpected contact as it was the last thing you needed in such a situation.

You didn’t find any comfort whatsoever in how Alexia’s hand never left yours for more than a minute, when normally it was something that grounded you. Her usually funny comments and little facts and point-outs of detail about her ‘second home’ (the name she had given it as she’d been coming here since she was young) didn’t make you feel any brighter, in fact you were pretty sure you missed most of them.

And as every minute passed, it appeared to get busier and busier, until it started to feel like you were in some kind of mosh pit, people bouncing off of you with every turn only for the next one to come along no more than a second later. You couldn’t hear a word Alexia was speaking, the once calming mix of languages turned into a booming echo of voices that were so close they seemed to be knocking on the bone of your skull, yet too distant for you to make out what anyone was saying, making it all so. much. worse.

Every voice, every footstep, every hearty laughter and every scrape of wood along the floor grated against your ears, all noises around amplified to immeasurable heights. The space was far too loud and far too crowded – each sensation you felt blurred into the next until it became impossible to separate from one another. But you did feel how each individual muscle tensed, from your legs to your shoulders, as Alexia continued to pull you through the market. 

You were hyperaware of everything around you and it soon became unbearable. But Alexia was happy, she chatted away like nothing was happening, comfortable and content as her canvas bag brimmed with stuff you didn’t even realise she had bought. You soldiered on, or at least tried to.

Until, your breathing began to quicken, your lungs unable to take in any of the stuffy air you walked through, your chest tightening in a way that only caused you to panic impossibly more. Each piece of fabric from your clothes grazed against your skin like a hundred scratches in a single second, your shirt and shorts beginning to feel like they were getting tighter with each step you took. And when the claustrophobia, the feeling like there was no escape at all, began to really set in, the day was over.

Your resolve had completely eroded. You tried to focus on grounding yourself — reminding yourself this was a safe space, but that was an empty claim to make to your shredded composure. You tried convincing your mind that Alexia’s hand in yours was comforting, when it only felt constrictive, her hand wholly enveloping yours like a snake, leaving no room to breathe. You clenched and unclenched your fist in time with your breaths, but you couldn't even inhale for a second before your mind went into overdrive. All the tools you relied on before were inadequate in that moment. The rational part of your brain slipped away, instead replaced by an instinctive need to escape. 

Surges of anger, panic, anxiety, fear, they all rose uncontrollably at once. Your jaw clenched, your free hand curled into a tight fist, and your vision turned hazy as your world dissolved into one indistinct blur.

The snapping point came abruptly. Perhaps it was a shrill laugh nearby, the clatter of a crate being dropped, or an impatient shove from someone trying to pass by. It was the smallest thing, but it tipped the scale far out of anybody’s control. You were alone in that moment. Trapped completely in your mind.

You missed how Alexia called your name over and over, how her hand nudged yours to desperately try to grasp your attention. It was only when her hands grabbed both your forearms that you were brought back down, but only for half a millisecond, before it all went south.

“What?!” You snapped at her, jumping back out of her touch. 

As a result, there were about thirty pairs of eyes on you. Everybody around paused, your sharp shout cutting through the buzz of the market, and it went so quiet that every flutter of a fly’s wing and every creek of wood could be heard. 

You took another step back when Alexia came towards you, a worrisome look on her face with her hands out in front of her like she was trying to not spook an untrusting animal in front of her. She rushed out some words of reassurance that fell into the background with all the other noises around that had picked up again, the market-goers losing interest in a seemingly harmless situation. They didn’t register within you, nor did her intentions. Your mind was far too good at playing tricks on you, convincing you of things that were far from the truth but in the moment felt like gospel.

There was no way out of where you were, both in the physical and the mental sense, and that was the main factor in the eruption that had just happened. With so many emotions coursing through you, there was an intense itch to find a release from them all. So before you realised, your arms crossed over your chest, hands on your upper arms just above your elbow, and you began to roughly palm, rub, grab at the skin there, needing a distraction from the volume of your mind and the world, whilst also desperately trying to get the movement to act as a release of the crushing press of the feelings inside of you. 

If you were alone at that time, god only knows what would have happened. Fortunately you weren’t.

The next time Alexia touched you was the featherlight weight of her hand on your lower back, the minor contact enough to lead you through the winding paths of the market. Your legs ran on autopilot, but you stumbled with every few steps, eyes too blurry to see the bumps and dips in the cobbles underneath your feet. There were probably tears down your face, though you’d reached such a broken point that your body was just… numb. You weren’t in control of anything anymore, hadn’t been for a while, but this was a new extremity. You weren’t even present in your own mind. Just an innocent, unknowing passenger in the car crash that had come out of nowhere.

Somehow, with her own hands trembling from concern, Alexia managed to lead you out of the chaos of the market to those same rusted, paint-chipped gates from earlier— the entrance of the park area. She was lost on what to do or say, but rationally she knew the only thing that would work for you right now was getting you home. 

“I will drive us back to your flat, back home, okay?” 

You gave her no indication that you heard her, which she was expecting, though you had heard the one word you were in dire need of and it was the first thing so far that managed to break through into your overwhelmed mind. Your hands were still moving roughly against the skin of your arms, sure to leave marks afterwards, but Alexia knew if she attempted to stop you, it’d only make matters worse. She had to get you home. Seeing you like this was breaking her.

It took a concerningly small amount of effort to guide you to the car; you were pliant and mindless, the exhaustion having fully taken over the minute you left the crowded space. She opened the door for you, helped you into the seat, and put the belt on. You leaned your head back against the seat rest and stared straight ahead. Whether it’d help or not, Alexia wasn’t sure. But she had to do one thing, more for the sake of her sanity than yours. With a quiet call of your name, she gently put a hand under your chin and turned you so you faced her.

“I’ll take you home and look after you. You will be okay.” She whispered, tentatively brushing away some of the tears still on your cheeks with her thumb. Her words were a sentiment for her as much as they were for you. “You’ll be okay soon.”

—

Next thing you knew, you were in your bed, lay on your side with your weighted blanket over you and Alexia nowhere to be seen.

It was definitely the calm after the storm. The room was mostly dark apart from the light that bled through the curtains which were closed, you could hear the quiet whir of the AC as well as the dull hum of traffic on the street below, but that was about it. It was a stark contrast to how things were before.

You don’t exactly remember getting home after what happened after the market, but what you did know was that though Alexia wasn’t in the room, she had been at some point, because you felt her love in the way she made sure everything was properly set up for you. The AC hadn’t been on before you left earlier and it only could have come back on by someone turning it on. The curtains were open that morning, whereas now they were drawn. And last time you checked, your blanket was still in the dryer, waiting to be taken out when you got back. 

Everything you felt earlier still echoed faintly inside your head and chest, but the weighted blanket over you helped to anchor you back to your life again, rather than the chaos you were drowning in not so long ago. Your mind was convoluted, thoughts jumbled, and you flitted from one shattered fragment of insecurity to the other. You were simply too exhausted to hold onto any of them, emotionally and mentally drained. Though, you still tried to identify what you were feeling— was it anger? Shame? Embarrassment? You couldn’t put a finger on it. 

Your hands still shook, your chest still shuddered with every breath. Your clothes still felt scratchy and overbearing, just less so now that you lay in the aftermath of it all. Instead of focusing on that, you drifted your attention to the feeling of the blanket on you; you focused on its texture, its softness, the heaviness of it and how it draped over you and helped to extinguish the flame that was overstimulation and overwhelm. These small but familiar details offered a tiny foothold in the mirror maze of your mind that you were still trying to escape from, only for the ruined reflection of you at the market to be shown back to you.

The longer you spent in that position, a deep, bone-level weariness quietly consumed you, like every aspect of you right down to your soul had been drained. But even still, your mind continued its hyperactive ways, replaying the day’s events over and over like a faulty film reel. The memory of it isn’t the slightest bit cohesive, it was just flashes of moments— the suffocating press of people from every direction, clamour of voices, the overloading mixture of scents. You alternated between frustration and exasperation, wanting to desperately forget what happened whilst not being able to move on from the embarrassment of it. 

However, the strain of it slowly began to dissipate with each minute you spent back at home in bed, a safe space where there were no expectations, where time was temporarily unimportant, and where there were no watchful eyes or scathing glares at the disruption you’d caused. And eventually, you felt like you had gained back control of your mind again. It was quieter then; the world felt muted, less aggressive, though you could feel that you were still wary of your surroundings because of how everything ambushed you earlier.

You weren’t fully recovered, you still felt heavy and your body ached due to the tension in your muscles and joints when it all came falling down, and you weren’t sure how much time had passed but the sun sat a little lower on the horizon when you finally felt able to get out of bed. The desire for time alone had gone, you needed something else then, and at this point of the relationship you felt comfortable enough to seek exactly what you needed without giving it a second thought. 

The door to your room creaked like it always did when you opened it, your apartment mostly silent save for the occasional huff from the kitchen as the person you were looking for busied herself with any chore she could think of as she waited patiently for you. 

You didn’t quite know what to say, but one of the best things about your relationship was that often in times like this, words weren’t a necessity. So you bypassed her and headed straight for the sofa, sitting in the corner and curling your feet underneath you, almost like you were making yourself as small as possible. And, just as you expected, not a minute went by before the blonde headed over, trying to disguise the worry she felt by giving a tight-lipped smile that was more on the amusing side than the reassuring one.

When she sat down, however, she left a gap between you both and perched only on the edge, which wasn’t what you wanted. One shared glance later and Alexia was smiling properly this time, shuffling to sit back against the cushions and beckoning you over with a small wave of her hand. With a sheepish but slightly triumphant look on your face, you moved along the couch and chose to sit sideways on her lap, one of her arms immediately wrapping around your waist as the hand of the other landed just above your knee. She pulled you close to her, and you settled into her with a relieved sigh, indescribably glad to have the final piece of the puzzle to self-regulation in your possession.

For some time, the pair of you didn’t speak, only relishing in the comfort you both needed after the day that had been had. At some point, Alexia noticed the redness to your skin from earlier and subconsciously brought a hand up to one of your arms, her thumb gently tracing over them with a frown on her face. She felt compelled to speak then.

“Please, engel, don’t put yourself through uncomfortable situations just to make me happy. If you asked me to, I would have taken you home earlier in a heartbeat.” The midfielder said carefully, panicking a little when she heard you sigh before calming when you buried your face in her neck.

“I didn’t really know it was going to be uncomfortable until it was already happening.” You told her in a mumbled, downbeat tone that made her hug you tighter against her. She contemplated her next words, wondering whether it was wise to voice them or not, before deciding that you’d hate it if you found out she’d kept her feelings from you.

“I’ve never seen you like that before.” Her fear and sadness was evident when she spoke, matching the frown still on her face and the furrow to her brow. You pressed your lips to the skin of her jaw in a somewhat apologetic gesture, which made her feel a little bad. “We’re both okay though, mi amor. I love you and we’re okay. I’m not mad or anything, this isn’t your fault. I don’t want you to feel guilty. It’s over now, it’s in the past, and we’re here together now.”

It might have been a minor reminder, but it relieved a lot of the remaining anxieties and insecurities you had. Even though she made sure you knew she never judged you for anything, you were only human, and sometimes the devil on your shoulder got the best of you. So, to hear her say she knew it wasn’t your fault and that she wasn’t angry, it was… very needed.

The mix of physical touch and words of affirmation never failed to work wonders for you. The period of time after an event like earlier was a delicate time to say the least, where your mind and your self-esteem was easily swayed by whatever reaction waited for you afterwards. Having Alexia be so welcoming, non-judgemental, caring and adoring even after what she’d witnessed made a world of a difference.

“Better day tomorrow?” You said shyly after moving back to look at her. She shook her head at first, which greatly confused you, before she smiled brightly, softly, reassuringly, and leaned forwards to kiss your temple.

“Better evening tonight after a bad day. And then a very good day tomorrow.” Her words were a little skewed, probably lost in translation, but you understand what she was getting at and it warmed your heart all the same.

It was important to you then, that you voiced your thoughts from just a moment ago. She had to know how important she was to you.

“Thank you, Ale. For everything.” You started, laughing quietly at the puzzled expression on her face. “You always know what to do, what to say. You always make me feel better after a day like this and I don’t know how you do it but… you changed my life.”

Her reaction was the sweetest. Her cheeks blushed red and she turned away for a moment with a tiny disbelieving shake of her head.

“I don’t know about that, cariño.” She murmured, but you weren’t having it. You put a hand on her cheek and turned her face back to you, ensuring she met your gaze before you spoke again.

“You did. I really mean it. I think about it a lot, how you’ve changed me, how I see myself because of you and how you treat me.” You paused for a moment, smiling up at her as her eyes silently urged you to continue. “I… value myself more because of how you value me. I don’t tell you enough how grateful I am for you and what you really mean to me. You’re the greatest person I have ever met.”

The normally sure and confident captain was rendered speechless in that moment, completely caught off guard and lost for words. How she could ever match the gravity and beauty of your words, she didn’t know. But they meant so much more to her than she knew she could ever express.

Ale ducked her head down for a moment as she really took in your words, before she lifted it back up again a moment later, with tears in her eyes. 

If only you knew how much you meant to her too.

“You’re my favourite person in the world, you know that?” She said with a pointed look and a raised eyebrow, almost accusing you of foolishly being uncertain about the fact that she stated so definitively. You knew she only did that to deflect the softness of her words a little. So, you just smiled, and tucked your head back into her neck and closed your eyes, completely at peace. “My favourite person in the whole world. You changed my life too.”

—

i really really tried my best to encapsulate the autistic experience of being overstimulated and overwhelmed in such a place here but i have no idea how well it comes across to a large audience. but for me and probably others, this is the reality, no matter how much you can plan and prepare and be excited for something, it can spiral out of your control so quickly and it's definitely a downer when it happens. hope this is somewhat understandable, im gonna go hibernate out of fear now, thank you v much for reading :)

[chxnsgirl]

── .✦ between heaven and you ; lee felix

⋆｡ ˚༘ ♫ turning page - sleeping at last

"ever since you came into my life, you taught me all about unconditional love."

» synopsis: after watching you struggle for so long, your guardian angel falls for you, and ends up breaking celestial laws just to be in your presence. angel!felix x afab!reader

» a/n: i tried a different writing style for this story, it took me about three weeks to finish. this was kind of inspired by felix's unfair mv. the concept of him as an angel suits him so well. i'll put content warnings but please read at your own risk, there will be heavy heavy topics mentioned in this fic. - mostly proofread.

» cw: brief mentions of sexual assault, depression, suicide attempts, drug and alcohol abuse, blood, domestic abuse (physical, verbal, and emotional), minho is an asshole (sorry), very much a slowburn (felix is YEARNING.) hyunjin is also in this fic as an angel. smut cw: loss of virginity, slightly inexperienced felix, unprotected p in v, vanilla af tbh

» wc: 17k

» borders by: here

felix was there. he was always there, before you even realized it.

life hadn’t been easy for you—that much had been clear for as long as you could remember. your mother walked out of your life when you were only three, and not long after, your father succumbed to liver failure, leaving you orphaned and adrift in a world that seemed designed to crush you. without a family to hold you, to remind you that you mattered, you became just another number in the system, another child shuffled between homes like a piece of lost luggage.

your belongings were carried in a garbage bag, a cruel reminder that you were never meant to stay anywhere long enough to unpack. foster care was supposed to provide a sense of stability, but instead, it felt like a series of cold exchanges, your worth measured in paperwork and stipends.

things took a darker turn when you were placed with your first long-term foster family. at first, you thought the word "long-term" might bring relief—a chance to settle, to belong—but it quickly became a prison sentence. you realized, with bitter clarity, that "long-term" didn’t mean better; it just meant more time to endure. and endure, you did, wishing with every passing day that their home had been just another brief stop on the endless conveyor belt of placements.

the mother was controlling, piling chores onto you to the point where your schoolwork was neglected, causing you to nearly fail your first year of middle school. the father was lazy and critical, spending his evenings in a recliner with a beer in hand, quick to judge but offering no help around the house. unknown to the foster care system or the foster mother, he had a disturbing habit of sneaking into your room at night under the guise of wanting to "cuddle."

it wasn’t until he started trying to undress you that you realized this wasn’t something that was normal between fathers and daughters. 

but yet, you stayed silent. afraid of making them angry. you knew it wasn’t right, what he was doing to you, but they were giving you a home. something you had been wishing for for several years. you didn’t want to pass that up just because some gross dude lifted your nightgown for a measly 5 minutes 3 times a week. 

you stayed in that home for about 2 years until they got tired of you. finally, you were free from that prison.

however, the weight never stopped piling on top of you, the feelings never stopped rising. you didn’t realize it because you were too young, but remembering what that sick fuck did you was enough to leave you nauseous for a few days. you found yourself stuck in your head, constantly feeling his fingertips grazing your inner thigh, his mouth on yours, still smelling the faint odor of alcohol on his breath. 

you hated yourself for letting it slide. for letting him get away with it. you resented yourself for being so fucking afraid all the time. why didn’t you just speak up? why were you so fucking pathetic? the thoughts whirled in your head constantly. 

you had no idea that the flood of dark, tormenting thoughts in your mind was the reason felix came into your life. the first time he truly saved you was when you were just 14.

it was late at night, and you were alone in the bathroom you shared with three other foster girls, each of them sleeping in the room just outside. the door was locked, and your back was pressed against it, the cool wood digging into your skin as tears soaked your cheeks. your fingers trembled as they gripped the little pill bottle in your hand, eyes locked on it as your lip quivered, the weight of the moment almost unbearable. you didn’t know how much longer you could keep going.

everything in you was screaming to stop the noise inside your head, to stop the endless thoughts that tore at your mind. but there was one thing you couldn’t escape—your heart was still beating, and no matter how hard you wished for it to stop, it wouldn’t. so, with a quiet curse, you made up your mind. you were done.

the pills felt like stone as they hit your throat, each one a bitter reminder of everything that was falling apart. you gagged, struggled to swallow, but you forced them down, one after another. you locked yourself in that bathroom, barricading yourself from the world, and for what felt like an eternity, you sat there, on the edge of breaking, hoping for something—anything—to stop the pain.

only for a mere moment was the world quiet around you, the kiss of death just barely brushing your lips..

until something strange happened. it was like the very essence of life itself surged through your body, jolting you upright from where you had been slumped on the cold tile floor. the world spun out of control, and your body betrayed you in the most brutal way—it took everything you had to keep yourself upright as you lurched toward the tub. your stomach heaved violently, the contents of your body fighting against the poison you had just forced in.

sweat dripped down your face as you vomited, shaking uncontrollably, your body a hot mess of fear and desperation. it was a moment of raw panic as you realized, in the haze of your disorientation, that you were still alive. the wave of disappointment hit you like a freight train—how could you still be here? how could it not have worked? you wanted nothing more than to disappear in that moment, to fade into nothingness. 

but he was always there.

a couple of years passed, and you were adopted by a family who genuinely cared for you. they said they loved you, and you told yourself you loved them too—or at least, you thought you did. but you could never quite tell if your feelings for others were genuine or just surface-level mimicry. you heard their words of love, but you never felt it in the way people described—the flutter in your chest, the warmth in your stomach.

instead, there was only emptiness.

you had a family that cared, hot meals, a safe home. by all accounts, it should have been enough. so why wasn’t it? why did you feel a persistent ache for something more?

high school offered a temporary escape, at least for a while. you had a knack for finding trouble—running with the wrong crowd, skipping class to get high or spend hours making out with whichever guy you were dating at the time. in those moments, everything felt exhilarating. the thrill of breaking rules filled you with a rush, and being with them made you feel whole, even if only briefly.

but when you were alone, the emptiness crept back in.

in solitude, every thought became louder, every feeling sharper, relentless in their assault. the weight of it all was unbearable. whether you realized it or not, you were slowly self-destructing, losing the spark and vitality that once defined you as a child. this wasn’t the gradual "loss of innocence" that comes with growing up—it had been stolen from you. and instead of clinging to what little remained, you shoved it all away, forcing it into a dark, unrelenting void of pain and regret.

the second time felix saved you was when you were 16. 

it was a night that seemed like any other, until everything changed in an instant. you and your boyfriend had been at a party, the music loud and the laughter even louder, but the night took a turn the moment you got in the car. he had been drinking heavily. you tried to convince him to let someone else drive, but he insisted, too drunk to even form a coherent argument. you told yourself it would be fine—he was your boyfriend, and he promised he was fine to drive.

but it wasn’t fine.

the crash came so suddenly, you didn't even have time to brace yourself. the screech of tires, the sudden force of the impact—everything spun, and then there was silence.

when you opened your eyes again, the world was a blur, the harsh sound of sirens breaking through the ringing in your ears. your body was heavy, and the pain was overwhelming. you couldn’t move your arm, and it felt like you were sinking into the seat, your head throbbing with every heartbeat. you reached for it, fingers trembling, feeling blood dripping from your hairline. 

your trembling hand reached up instinctively, grasping at anything to try and level yourself while twisted in the vehicle, but it ended up brushing against something warm and wet—blood. it was everywhere. at first, you thought it was just yours, but then you looked to your side.

your boyfriend was there, slumped unnaturally in the driver’s seat. his head hung at an angle that made your stomach twist, and his chest didn’t rise. his face, once so familiar and full of life, was pale and lifeless. for a moment, the world stood still as your mind grappled with the impossible reality in front of you.

you called his name, your voice barely more than a croak, but there was no response. the quiet was suffocating. hot tears blurred your vision as panic overtook you. you reached for him, shaking him, begging him to wake up, but it was no use.

the realization hit you like a cold wave, and you couldn’t breathe, couldn’t process the weight of it. 

at that moment, the pain in your body was nothing compared to the weight in your chest. the boy you thought you’d share so many tomorrows with was gone, and you were left drowning in the wreckage of a life that would never be the same.

it was then that you felt it—the presence of someone, something, familiar but impossible to explain. there was a warmth, a sense of calm in the chaos. the sound of voices in the distance didn’t seem so muffled anymore. you could hear the paramedics, shouting instructions, but you felt... distant, almost like you were floating outside of your own body.

“stay with me,” someone was saying, but it wasn’t the paramedics.

“i’m here. you’re going to be okay,” a deep, yet soft male voice rang. the words weren’t loud, they weren’t even clear, but they were enough to settle you, just enough to make the panic simmer down into something manageable. you had no idea how it got there, but the voice was a tether.

you tried to respond, tried to speak, but your body wasn’t cooperating. the world seemed to shift and swirl again, and then you were in an ambulance, being rushed to the hospital.

the moments after the crash were a blur of bright hospital lights, sterile smells, and the constant beeping of machines around you. 

the doctor had placed you into a medically induced coma due to the amount of drugs and alcohol in your system, as well as your severe brain injury. it took some time for your family to arrive at the hospital, but felix stayed with you. he was by your side the whole time you lay there. 

later on, your eyelids fluttered open, your lashes brushing against the dryness of your skin, and it took a few moments for your eyes to adjust to the harsh white light above you. blinking slowly, you tried to clear the fog in your mind, forcing your surroundings into focus. 

beside your bed, there was a chair. empty. the sight of it hit you like a wave of loneliness. your mind raced. had someone been sitting there? had someone been waiting for you to wake up?

before you could let yourself fall into the quiet despair of it, something caught your eye—a flash of movement. at first, you weren’t sure if it was real or just a trick of your disoriented mind, but there it was again. a figure. a blonde figure dressed all in white, moving swiftly past the door and out of the room.

your heart skipped a beat, your breath catching in your throat. it happened so quickly, you didn’t even have time to process it fully. just a flicker of someone in white, someone you couldn’t place, and then they were gone, disappearing down the hallway like a phantom.

you tried to call out, tried to move, but your body refused to cooperate. you were too weak, too broken, too tethered to the machines that kept you alive. who had that been? was it someone you knew?

but before you could think any more about it, the pain returned, sharp and immediate, and all you could do was close your eyes, hoping for a moment of peace. even as your mind raced, as uncertainty flooded you, you couldn’t shake the thoughts, your mind wondering if what you saw was real or just a hallucination from your drugged-up state. 

felix spent countless hours studying you, observing the subtle ways you shifted in your sleep, the way your body would tense when you were about to face the next wave of agony. he wasn’t supposed to be so emotionally attached, not in the way he found himself. angels were meant to be impartial, neutral—protective, but not emotionally involved. and yet, as time went on, felix found himself more and more drawn to you, his gaze lingering longer than necessary, his thoughts turning to you even when he wasn’t near. it was a kind of fascination, but it was also something deeper, something he hadn’t experienced before.

it always pained felix to watch you struggle. it was his job, of course, as your guardian angel, but that didn’t necessarily mean he liked it. his role was simple, or so it was supposed to be—guide, protect, watch over you—but there were moments when it felt like a weight he could barely carry. watching you hurt, seeing the toll life had taken on you, it gnawed at him in ways he couldn’t quite explain. it wasn’t just about keeping you safe; it was about witnessing your inner turmoil, the pain you couldn’t escape, and knowing he could never truly take it away. he could intervene, sure, but only so much.

he became fond of you. at first, it was a quiet awareness—a soft sadness in his chest when he saw your tears, a feeling of helplessness when he couldn’t stop you from making the same painful decisions over and over again. but it grew. he watched how you pushed through your struggles, how you fought to keep living despite everything that weighed you down. there was a quiet strength in you, an undeniable resilience that made him both proud and heartsick.

sometimes, when you were at your lowest, felix would find himself feeling your pain. it wasn’t just an awareness, it was a visceral ache that seemed to pulse through him as if your suffering was his own. and that was strange. he wasn’t supposed to feel anything—least of all the sharp, gut-wrenching pain that you carried with you. angels were above human emotion; they were supposed to observe, not participate. but there it was. he would feel your despair, the weight of your grief, the crushing exhaustion in your heart as if it were his own.

he’d try to push it away, to block it out, but it lingered. it was becoming harder and harder to ignore.

after the accident, he had watched you slip into that coma, felt the void of your absence, and during the time you were unconscious, it was like a part of him had gone with you. the pain he felt as you fought to survive, the pull of your fragile life, had him teetering on the edge of something unfamiliar. he wasn’t supposed to care this much. he wasn’t supposed to let himself be moved by your suffering. but he was. and it terrified him.

felix could barely stand it. he was so close, so close to you, but always just out of reach. he couldn’t touch you, couldn’t make you understand that he was there. he had to stay hidden, an invisible force in the shadows. it was one of the many rules he was tasked to follow.

but he was there. and he was watching, as he always did. every time you moved, every time you cried out, his heart cracked just a little more. there were moments when he wished he could reach out, hold you, tell you it would be okay. but he couldn’t. his purpose was to guide you, not to console you the way a person could. and yet, he longed to.

it was strange. it was almost as if, in trying to save you from the darkness, he was losing himself in the process.

he was supposed to help you without complications. but oh boy, did it become complicated. 

“why do you seem down?” hyunjin asked felix, his shoes clacking against the marble floor of felix’s room. felix lay on his sofa, deep in thought. it took him a few seconds to finally answer. “she’s not doing well again,” he said lowly, the sound of sadness apparent in his tone. hyunjin walked over and sat next to him, letting out a soft sigh. “the same stuff?” he asked, referring to your depression. 

felix just hummed in response and nodded, laying his head back down as he stared off into space. “i can't do anything to help her.” he muttered eventually, disappointment in his tone. 

hyunjin studied felix quietly, his own expression a mixture of concern and confusion. angels weren’t supposed to form such deep attachments. they were guides, protectors—meant to observe and intervene only when absolutely necessary. but felix... felix was different.

"you care about her more than any angel i’ve ever seen care for their human," hyunjin said softly, his voice tinged with a cautious curiosity. "it’s not... wrong, exactly, but it’s not normal either."

felix didn’t respond right away. his gaze was distant, locked somewhere far beyond the room they were in. finally, he spoke, his voice barely above a whisper."she’s been through so much, hyunjin. more than anyone should ever have to endure. and she keeps going, even when it feels like the world is crushing her. but it’s wearing her down. i can see it in her eyes, hear it in her thoughts."

hyunjin frowned, leaning back on the sofa. "you’ve saved her before. more than once. isn’t that enough? isn’t that what we’re supposed to do? intervene when necessary and then... let go?"

felix sat up abruptly, running a hand through his hair in frustration. "let go? how can i let go when every time i turn my back, she’s falling deeper into the darkness? i can feel her pain, hyunjin. it’s like it’s… carved into my being."

hyunjin tilted his head, watching his friend carefully. "you’re more human than you think, felix," he said quietly, almost to himself.

felix’s head snapped toward him, his expression a mix of surprise and defiance. "what’s that supposed to mean?"

"it means," hyunjin continued calmly, "that maybe you care so deeply because you understand her in a way most angels don’t. you don’t just see her struggles—you feel them. that connection... it’s rare, felix. but it’s also dangerous."

felix looked away, his jaw tightening. he knew hyunjin was right, but that didn’t make it any easier to accept. "i just want her to be happy," he said finally, his voice breaking slightly. "i don’t care if it’s dangerous or rare or whatever else you want to call it. i just can’t stand to see her like this."

hyunjin reached out, placing a hand on felix’s shoulder. "maybe it’s time to think about what she really needs. sometimes, saving someone doesn’t mean fixing everything for them. it means being there, quietly, in the background, until they find their own strength."

felix sighed, his shoulders slumping under the weight of hyunjin’s words. he didn’t know if he could do that—if he could stand by and watch you struggle, hoping you’d pull through on your own. he had been waiting several years for this, for you to come to, for you to get better. it didn’t seem achievable because of how much you were obviously hurting still. 

but deep down, he knew hyunjin had a point.

all he could do was stay close and hope his presence, even unseen, would make a difference.

a few more months passed, and felix found himself at his breaking point. watching you spiral further into despair was more than he could bear. he had always been bound by the sacred rules of his kind. yet, with every passing day, those rules felt like chains, holding him back from giving you the comfort and hope you so desperately needed.

he began to push the boundaries, leaving subtle signs of his presence. a faint warmth brushing your skin during your loneliest nights, the sudden scent of vanilla randomly wafting through your room–his signature scent.. or the soft flutter of a breeze indoors when no windows were open. felix hoped these tiny gestures would remind you that you weren’t alone, that someone was watching over you. sometimes you’d swear you’d wake up in the middle of the night, feeling eyes on you in your bedroom.

but he knew he was treading dangerous ground. revealing himself to the living, even indirectly, was a direct violation of celestial law. angels were forbidden from crossing into the mortal plane unless absolutely necessary—and certainly not for personal reasons. every time he bent the rules, felix felt the weight of disapproval from the higher realms, but he didn’t care.

all he cared about was you.

eventually, felix realized that his subtle gestures weren’t enough to ease your suffering. the flickers of warmth, the faint scents, and the soft breezes weren’t making the impact he hoped for. so, he made the decision to go further, breaking the rules more boldly than ever before.

what started as occasional visits to watch over you as you slept turned into a nightly ritual. every night, without fail, felix would enter your room, his presence unseen, and settle himself beside you on the bed. he would sit propped against the headboard, his fingers brushing gently through your hair in soothing strokes. this was the only time he saw you truly at peace—your expression free of the sadness that weighed you down during your waking hours. your mind was finally quiet, your face soft and serene, and seeing you like this brought felix a strange sense of solace.

he didn’t feel out of place lying beside you. on the contrary, it comforted him to know that, even if you couldn’t feel his presence, he was there for you during your most vulnerable moments. but simply being there wasn’t enough for him. he wanted you to know you weren’t alone, even if you didn’t understand the source.

so, he started leaving a single white rose in your apartment, always in a spot he knew you’d notice. the first time you found one, you panicked. your thoughts immediately jumped to the idea of a stalker. it would explain the strange sensation you sometimes felt while sleeping, as though someone was watching over you. but no one had a key to your apartment, and you were sure you hadn’t misplaced a spare. there were no signs of forced entry, no broken locks or jimmied windows. and living on the tenth floor of a building without a balcony made the idea of anyone sneaking in seem impossible.

yet, every wednesday, like clockwork, the roses appeared. each time you came home from work, you found one waiting for you—sometimes placed carefully on your pillow, other times resting on the kitchen counter where you always dropped your keys.

the mystery of the roses consumed your thoughts. you couldn’t shake the eerie feeling of being watched, but at the same time, something about the gesture felt... kind. even as the fear lingered, you couldn’t deny the strange comfort the flowers brought, like a small, silent promise that someone cared. 

you’d sit for hours, turning the possibilities over and over in your mind, desperate for an explanation. the only theory that felt remotely plausible was that it might be a deceased family member—perhaps your father—reaching out to you from beyond. maybe he was watching over you, leaving these gifts as a sign of his presence.

but even that felt like a stretch. you’d never been one to believe in the supernatural. ghosts, spirits, angels—it all seemed too far-fetched. yet, the roses told a different story. they appeared in your locked apartment without any logical explanation, and the sheer impossibility of it all began to chip away at your skepticism.

the more you thought about it, the more your disbelief wavered. you still couldn’t bring yourself to fully accept the idea of something otherworldly, but a small part of you began to wonder: what if there was more to this world than you’d always believed?

it wasn’t until a little later into your adulthood that felix fell for you. he fell for you in a way that was more than he ever thought possible, a deep, unshakable kind of love that bloomed quietly in the recesses of his heart. it wasn’t sudden—it was a slow, inevitable tide, creeping up on him as he spent day after day watching over you, silently observing the subtle shifts in your life, the quiet struggles you faced, and the moments of fleeting joy that seemed to light up your world in spite of it all.

the more he watched you, the more deeply he felt connected to you. he could see the way you smiled when you thought no one was looking, the way your eyes shimmered with a mix of hope and pain, and how you carried your burdens with such quiet strength. he admired your resilience, but it tore at him too. each time he saw you frown in frustration or collapse into exhaustion after a long day, it felt like a jagged piece of glass scraping against his soul. the desire to be close to you—to be there for you—burned inside him like wildfire, something so powerful and raw, he couldn’t contain it.

felix found himself drawn to you in a way he couldn’t explain. he watched you laugh with your friends, saw you comfort a stranger, witnessed the quiet moments when you thought no one cared. and in every one of those moments, his heart ached. it ached because he longed to be the one to make you smile, to ease the weight on your shoulders, to tell you that he understood in ways no one else could. he wanted to be the one who held you when the world felt too heavy, who whispered comforting words when you couldn’t find any of your own.

he wanted—no, needed—to talk to you. to introduce himself, to somehow, impossibly, let you know that he knew you better than anyone else ever could. he knew your scars, your fears, your dreams. he had watched you grow, silently and from a distance, always just out of reach. and every part of him screamed to speak, to tell you everything he had seen and felt as he quietly admired the person you had become. every thought he had about you, every observation, every small detail, every fleeting moment, was carved into his soul.

but as much as he wanted that, he knew he couldn’t. he wasn’t supposed to be here, to be seen by you. he was bound by laws that held him away, that kept him a silent observer, a watcher in the dark. his love for you—his desperate, consuming love for you—was forbidden. and yet, it consumed him more than anything else. he ached with the overwhelming need to be near you, to somehow make you feel what he felt, to break the invisible barrier that kept him at arm’s length.

felix would continue to visit at night, his form hidden in the shadows of your room, listening to your breathing, watching your peaceful face as you slept. he would run his fingers through your hair, wishing he could tell you everything. he would hold his breath, praying you would stir, that maybe, just maybe, you would feel him there, his presence lingering like a soft touch, a whispered promise. the thought that you might never know how deeply he loved you—it was unbearable.

felix wanted so badly to be noticed, to have you turn and see him. he wanted you to know, not just that he existed, but that he had been there all along, watching over you, loving you from afar. he wasn’t some fleeting presence, some passing moment. he was here. he had always been here. and all he wanted was for you to know that.

god, he loved you so fucking much. in a way that was all-consuming, in a way that made every moment of separation feel like a quiet ache in the deepest parts of him. he loved you in a way that was both impossible and undeniable. and it terrified him, because he knew he could never have you—not truly. he could only watch. and in doing so, he was bound by something even greater than the laws that kept him from you. he was bound by the love he could never express, the feelings he could never act upon.

and that was the cruelest part of it all—he loved you more than anything, but he could never truly have you.

felix leaned against the door of his home in the astral plane, his body feeling as though it was made of stone, weighed down by the crushing pressure of what had just transpired. his mind was a whirlwind of chaotic thoughts, still reeling from the conversation he had mere moments ago. the higher realms had caught on to his increasingly reckless behavior. he had always known there would be consequences, but hearing the words from the voices of the celestial council made the reality of it all hit him like a bolt of lightning.

a warning, they had said. a warning that if he continued this way—if he kept breaking laws, bending the rules, and daring to reveal himself to the mortal world—he would be cast out. disowned. stripped of everything he had ever known. his immortality would be taken from him, and the wings that had always been a part of him, the wings that had given him his identity, would be severed. he would be cast into the human world, forced to live among those he had been forbidden to touch, to exist as one of them—fragile, finite, and utterly alone.

felix’s chest tightened as the weight of their decree settled over him. he was horrified, and in the pit of his stomach, he felt a deep, aching sense of loss. the thought of being cast down, of losing the eternity that had once defined him, gnawed at him. he had existed for so long in the celestial realms, watching over worlds, knowing his place, and now that place felt as though it was slipping away from him, just as quickly as his heart had fallen for you.

he didn’t want to stop seeing you. he didn’t want to stop visiting you, to stop offering you the comfort he could give from the shadows. the mere thought of no longer being able to watch you, no longer being able to quietly support you from the distance he had grown to cherish, felt like an ache so deep, it was like his very soul had been torn in two.

but at the same time, felix was terrified. terrified of what it would mean if he allowed himself to follow this path, if he let his emotions run wild, if he dared to embrace this connection he had with you. to lose his place among the celestial beings, to lose the very essence of who he was, the very reason he existed—it was too much to bear.

he closed his eyes, gripping the edge of the door as though it might anchor him in the reality he so desperately wanted to hold onto. his heart raced, torn between two worlds—his love for you, and the celestial duty that had once defined his every action. the love he felt for you was dangerous, forbidden, but it was real. the kind of love that carved deep into his chest, raw and desperate, a love that made him question everything he had ever known about his purpose. but was it worth losing everything? was it worth abandoning the very thing that had given his life meaning—his immortality, his place among the divine?

felix didn’t know. he didn’t know if he could make that choice.

all he knew was that the fear of losing you—of being cast away, disowned—was as terrifying as the thought of losing himself.

felix found a small measure of peace when you started dating someone—a coworker named minho. though it pained him to see you with someone else, the thought of minho being there for you when felix couldn’t brought him some comfort. from what felix observed, minho was kind and attentive, and that was enough to keep felix at ease, even if it hurt to stay in the background.

still, felix couldn’t bring himself to leave entirely. he continued to watch over you, always vigilant, ensuring that minho treated you the way you deserved. 

but something shifted in your world, something that didn’t escape your notice. once minho entered your life, the roses stopped appearing in your apartment. at first, you didn’t think much of it, but as the weeks went by without a single flower, a strange pang of disappointment settled in your chest.

you hadn’t realized how much you’d grown attached to the mysterious gifts until they were gone. you had even gone out of your way to display them in a vase, replacing the wilted roses with fresh ones every week, as if honoring the unseen hand that left them. the absence felt odd, almost unsettling.

it didn’t take long for the thought to creep back into your mind: what if it really had been a stalker? but you dismissed it just as quickly as it came. there were no signs of forced entry, no evidence to support the idea. and besides, minho was with you now. if something truly dangerous were happening, surely he would have noticed too.

still, the timing nagged at you. the roses had stopped the moment minho came into your life. was it just a coincidence, or was there more to it? you couldn’t shake the feeling that you’d lost something special—something silent and unseen, but deeply meaningful.

as your relationship with minho deepened, felix began to notice troubling changes in his behavior. at first, it was subtle—offhand remarks about the way you did things or minor criticisms disguised as jokes. but over time, those comments grew sharper, more frequent, and far harder to ignore. minho started nitpicking every little thing you did, blaming you for even the smallest mistakes, and turning minor missteps into significant issues.

it didn’t take long for felix to piece together the truth: minho was a narcissist, and worse, an abusive one. his behavior escalated rapidly. the once seemingly harmless complaints turned into outright yelling. he began getting in your face during arguments, his voice laced with venom, his demeanor intimidating. felix watched helplessly as minho’s anger grew darker, his threats becoming more pointed.

the shift terrified felix. there were moments when minho’s fury burned so hot that felix feared he might follow through on his threats. each time minho’s hand twitched or his voice reached a dangerous pitch, felix braced himself, sick with worry that this time, it wouldn’t stop at words.

countless nights, felix lingered nearby, his unseen presence heavy with fear and frustration. the thought of you being seriously hurt haunted him. despite his duty to remain in the background, every fiber of his being screamed to intervene, to shield you from the storm brewing in your own home. 

as your relationship with minho continued and his behavior spiraled further into toxicity, you began to notice something strange: the inexplicable occurrences in your apartment had returned. the faint, sweet scent of vanilla began lingering in the air once more, subtle yet unmistakable. it crept into your senses at odd times, reminding you of a feeling you hadn’t experienced in months.

even more unsettling was the distinct sensation of being watched while you slept—something you’d felt before but had long since faded when minho entered your life. it was subtle at first, a gentle prickling at the back of your neck or the softest shift in the room’s energy. unlike most people, who might have been terrified by the idea of an unseen presence in their home, you felt an odd sense of comfort.

this wasn’t the unease of being stalked or the fear of danger. it was familiar, almost nostalgic, as though the presence itself carried a quiet reassurance. it reminded you of nights when you used to feel a strange sort of peace in your solitude, a solace that had seemed to vanish when minho came into your life.

you came home late wednesday night to find minho sitting at the kitchen island, his posture rigid and his expression already clouded with annoyance and barely concealed anger. you sighed inwardly, bracing yourself for yet another confrontation and wondering what you could have possibly done this time to provoke his ire.

before you could speak, your eyes fell on the white rose lying on the counter in front of him. your breath hitched, and your heartbeat quickened as unease settled deep in your chest. you had a feeling you knew exactly where this was going, but you forced yourself to play dumb, hoping to defuse whatever storm was brewing.

“what’s that?” you asked cautiously, your gaze darting between the rose and minho’s piercing glare.

he let out a humorless chuckle and lifted his head to meet your eyes. “you’re asking me?” he said, his voice calm but laced with an edge that sent chills down your spine.

you swallowed hard, struggling to steady your hands as you fidgeted with your fingers. “i don’t know. i didn’t—”

“come on, y/n,” he interrupted, his tone dripping with condescension. “i’m not stupid. i didn’t give this to you, so who did?” his voice was eerily calm, but his expression betrayed his barely contained fury, which was far more unsettling than when he was openly yelling.

“i-i don’t know, i swear,” you stammered, your voice trembling as you searched his face for any sign of reason.

minho’s jaw tightened, and his fist slammed against the counter, the sharp sound making you flinch. he stood abruptly, towering over you as his eyes narrowed. “bullshit. you got it from a guy. who is he? do i know him?”

“no, minho! i haven’t talked to any guys today!” you cried, your voice rising in desperation as your body began to shake.

“you’re lying,” he hissed, his gaze unwavering and his presence suffocating. he reached for the rose, running his fingers along the delicate petals as though mocking its fragility.

“i’m not,” you said, your voice barely above a whisper.

minho studied you for a moment, the silence stretching into something unbearable. then, with a sudden burst of violence, he clenched the rose in his fist, ripping the petals from the stem and scattering them across the counter. “clean this shit up. i don’t want to see any more flowers around here,” he snarled before shoving past you and storming toward the hallway.

something inside you snapped. “no,” you said firmly, the word escaping your lips before you could stop yourself.

minho froze mid-step, turning slowly to face you with a mixture of shock and fury. “what did you just say?” he asked, his tone low and dangerous.

“i said no,” you repeated, your voice steady despite the fear twisting in your stomach. you stood your ground, glaring at him with a defiance you didn’t know you possessed.

his surprise faded quickly, replaced by a dark, menacing rage. in an instant, he closed the distance between you, raising his hand and striking you across the face. the sharp sound of the slap echoed through the room, and the sting of his palm seared into your cheek.

before you could even process the pain, a loud crash shattered the tense silence. both of you turned toward the counter, where shards of glass from the vase that once held your white roses lay scattered. the vase had shattered violently, though neither you nor minho had touched it, and you were both too far away for it to have been accidental.

minho stared at the broken glass, his face contorting in confusion and unease. for the first time, you saw a flicker of something unfamiliar in his eyes—fear. and for a brief moment, it felt like the air in the room had shifted, heavy with something unexplainable, something beyond either of your control. 

“get the fuck out,” you spat, your voice trembling with both rage and sorrow as you shoved minho away from you. your lip quivered, and your heart pounded in your chest. he stumbled backward, his usual composure shattered as he stammered, trying to piece together words to defend himself.

“out!” you screamed, your voice breaking as tears began streaming uncontrollably down your face. you clutched your stinging cheek with one hand, the pain of his slap mingling with the ache in your chest.

minho hesitated, his face flickering with disbelief and hesitation, but eventually, he relented. grumbling under his breath, he grabbed his things and left, the door closing behind him with a finality that echoed through your apartment.

the silence that followed was suffocating, oppressive in its stillness. you stood frozen for a moment, staring at the broken glass scattered across your kitchen floor. your legs gave out beneath you, and you plopped onto the cold tile, your back pressed against the refrigerator as a sob wracked through your body.

you cried harder than you had in months, your tears falling freely as every ounce of frustration, anger, and pain came pouring out. you were furious—with minho, with yourself, with the cycle you seemed unable to break. why had you let it get this far? why did you allow another man to mistreat you, just because you were terrified of being alone again?

the realization cut deeply, leaving you raw and exposed. you told yourself then and there that you were done. done with minho, done with letting people like him have power over you. and this time, you meant it.

true to your resolve, minho didn’t bother you again. after a week of silence, it was clear that he wasn’t coming back, and for that, you were relieved. but relief didn’t erase the damage he had done.

in the aftermath of the breakup, you found yourself slipping back into the darkness you thought you had left behind. nights were the hardest. some, you spent curled up in bed, crying until exhaustion finally claimed you. others, you lay wide awake, staring at the ceiling as the all-too-familiar numbness crept over you, settling into your chest like an unwelcome guest.

the emptiness was back, deeper and more consuming than ever. it felt like your heart was a hollow shell, incapable of feeling anything but the ache of its own vacancy. and as the days blurred into weeks, you couldn’t help but wonder if this was all you were destined for—cycles of pain, brief reprieves, and an ever-present void you could never seem to fill. 

one night, as you drifted off to sleep, your dream took an unusual turn. in the depths of slumber, you saw flashes of golden blonde hair and a face so captivating it felt almost otherworldly. he had plump, soft lips, a delicate button nose, and a constellation of freckles scattered across his skin. his presence was magnetic, his beauty striking yet gentle.

at first, the dream was fleeting—a quick glimpse of him before the scene shifted into the usual randomness of your subconscious. but as the nights went on, he began appearing more frequently. his visits weren’t long, just brief moments where you saw his face, a sense of comfort and calm washing over you before he would vanish again into the recesses of your mind.

though you never spoke to him, you could feel him there. his presence was undeniable, and oddly familiar, as though you knew him from somewhere. the more you dreamed of him, the more he felt like a guardian, someone watching over you from the shadows.

what you didn’t realize was that this wasn’t just a figment of your imagination. it was felix. after weeks of struggling to find ways to be closer to you without breaking the celestial rules, he decided to take a different approach.

he was hesitant at first, unsure if entering your dreams would be too bold, too much of a risk. but he couldn’t stay away. the idea of reaching you in this subtle, intangible way felt like the perfect compromise—a chance to be near you without disrupting the delicate balance of your reality.

so, he appeared to you in fragments, carefully choosing each moment. the dreams were his way of offering comfort, a gentle reminder of his presence, even if you couldn’t fully understand what it meant yet. to felix, it was enough to know he was there for you, even if only in the quiet hours of the night.

the dream started like many others—hazy and indistinct, with colors blending together in a soft, swirling mist. you were standing in a field bathed in moonlight, the grass cool beneath your bare feet. a gentle breeze carried the scent of vanilla, a fragrance that had lingered faintly in your waking hours.

and then, you saw him.

he emerged from the mist like a figure out of a painting, his golden hair glowing faintly in the silver light. his face, with its constellation of freckles and gentle, piercing eyes, was heartbreakingly beautiful. he stopped a few paces away, his gaze locked on yours. for a moment, neither of you spoke. the silence wasn’t uncomfortable, but charged with something unspoken—something familiar yet strange.

"who are you?" you asked finally, your voice trembling as if afraid to break the spell. his lips curled into a soft smile, and he tilted his head slightly. "you already know me," he said, his voice like a melody, soothing and warm. your brows knitted together, confusion flickering across your face. "i don’t think i do."

"you’ve felt me," he said gently, taking a cautious step closer. "in the quiet moments. when you’ve been at your lowest. i’ve been there." the realization hit you like a wave, a shiver running down your spine. "the roses..."

he nodded, his expression tender yet tinged with sadness. "i didn’t mean to frighten you. i only wanted you to know you weren’t alone."

"but why? why me?" you whispered, a lump forming in your throat.

his gaze softened further, and he crouched slightly to meet your eyes more closely. "because i care about you more than you’ll ever know. i’ve watched over you, protected you, even when you didn’t know i was there." 

your breath hitched, the weight of his words sinking in. "are you... an angel?"

felix hesitated for a moment, then gave a small nod. "yes. and breaking every rule to talk to you like this."

"why now?"

"because i can’t bear to see you in pain anymore," he admitted, his voice cracking just slightly. "you’ve been through so much, and i... i couldn’t stay silent any longer."

tears welled in your eyes as you took a step closer, your hand reaching out instinctively. he didn’t pull away, but you hesitated, your fingers hovering just above his. "this doesn’t feel real," you murmured.

"but it is," he assured you, his voice firm yet gentle. "i’ll be here as long as you need me, whether you see me or not."

the dream began to blur around the edges, the mist creeping back in. "wait," you pleaded, your voice tinged with desperation. "will i see you again?"

felix smiled softly, his golden hair shimmering in the fading light. "always."

and then he was gone, leaving only his signature scent and the lingering warmth of his presence behind as you woke, tears still fresh on your cheeks. 

“you did what?” hyunjin asked felix, surprise evident on his expression. felix bit the inside of his cheek before he quietly repeated himself. “i.. visited her in her dream.” he mumbled. 

hyunjin stared at felix, his eyes wide as he leaned against the railing of their astral plane. the soft glow of their surroundings illuminated the disbelief on his face. "you visited her in her dream," he repeated slowly, as if trying to process the gravity of felix's words.

felix nodded, looking away. "i couldn’t just watch her suffer anymore. she needed to know she wasn’t alone."

hyunjin ran a hand through his dark hair, letting out a sharp exhale. "do you have any idea how reckless that was? visiting the living in their dreams might not be as bad as full manifestation, but it’s still breaking the rules."

felix’s gaze hardened, his usual softness replaced with a rare defiance. "i don’t care about the rules anymore, hyunjin. they don’t help her. she’s falling apart, and i can’t just stand by and do nothing."

hyunjin crossed his arms, his expression shifting from surprise to concern. "i get it, felix, i do. but you’ve been walking a thin line for a while now. leaving roses, lingering in her presence... do you really think the higher-ups won’t notice?"

felix clenched his fists at his sides. "let them notice. let them punish me if they want. but i won’t regret it. not for her."

hyunjin softened at felix's conviction, his features losing their edge. "you really care about her, don’t you?"

felix’s eyes glistened as he nodded. "more than anything. she’s been through so much, hyunjin. no one deserves that kind of pain. if i can be the one thing that brings her some comfort, i’ll take any punishment that comes my way."

hyunjin sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. "you’re not going to stop, are you?"

"no," felix said firmly, his voice steady despite the weight of his words.

there was a moment of silence as hyunjin studied his friend, his lips pressed into a thin line. finally, he relented with a small shake of his head. "alright. if you’re going to keep doing this, at least let me help you cover your tracks. if they find out what you’re doing, it won’t just be a slap on the wrist, felix. it’ll be exile—or worse."

felix’s eyes widened in surprise, gratitude quickly replacing the shock. "hyunjin, you don’t have to—"

"i know i don’t have to," hyunjin interrupted, his tone sharp. "but you’re my friend, and i’m not about to let you face this alone."

felix smiled faintly, the weight on his shoulders feeling just a little lighter. "thank you."

hyunjin sighed again, this time with a hint of exasperation. "don’t thank me yet. i’m not sure what kind of mess we’re getting into, but i have a feeling it’s going to get a lot worse before it gets better."

felix’s smile didn’t waver. "it’ll be worth it."

hyunjin shook his head with a wry smile, muttering under his breath. "you’re hopeless."

but despite his grumbling, he didn’t leave felix’s side. if felix was going to fight for you, hyunjin would make sure he didn’t do it alone.

the dreams for the next few nights unfolded as they always had—flickers of unspoken moments and hazy images that faded like sand slipping through your fingers. but this night was different.

the air around you shifted as the dream took form. you were no longer in a familiar place but somewhere entirely foreign and breathtaking. marble floors stretched endlessly beneath your bare feet, their white, polished surface reflecting soft, golden light from above. the room seemed to glow, not harshly, but with a serene brightness that made you feel weightless.

and then there was the scent—vanilla, rich and warm, filling the air like an embrace. it washed over you, soothing every frayed nerve and quieting the lingering chaos in your mind.

before you could fully process the setting, he appeared.

felix stepped out of the light as though it had created him, his form entirely whole this time. his white tunic draped elegantly over his lean frame, the fabric flowing as if it were alive. his blonde hair, wavy and radiant, seemed to catch the ambient glow, each strand moving with an ethereal lightness. but it was his face—those delicate features, framed by a constellation of freckles, and eyes that held galaxies—that truly caught your breath.

you couldn’t look away.

the space between you and felix was vast, yet he began to close the distance, his steps slow and deliberate, as though each one was meant to reassure you. his gaze, warm and unwavering, never left yours.

your heart pounded in your chest, each beat a mix of confusion, awe, and an unexplainable comfort. "you’re back," you whispered, your voice trembling but filled with a strange relief.

felix’s lips curved into a gentle smile, and as he stopped a few feet away, his presence felt like the missing piece of a puzzle you hadn’t realized you were trying to solve.

"i promised i would be," he said softly, his voice carrying the same calming warmth as the vanilla in the air.

the marble beneath your feet felt cool, grounding you as you tried to steady your breathing. "where are we? what is this place?"

felix glanced around, his expression serene yet thoughtful. "a reflection of the in-between. it’s not quite your world, not quite mine."

you frowned slightly, tilting your head. "why are we here?"

his gaze softened further, and he took another cautious step toward you, his hands loosely clasped in front of him. "because. i needed to see you again."

your breath hitched, the vulnerability in his voice cutting through the dreamlike quality of the moment. "this feels... so real," you murmured, reaching out instinctively, though you stopped short of touching him.

"it is," felix replied, his voice a quiet assurance. "as real as it can be."

you hesitated for a moment, staring at his outstretched hand. it was so close, yet it felt like reaching for something impossibly distant. your heart raced as you extended your trembling hand toward him once more.

“can i... touch you?” you asked again, your voice quieter this time, as if afraid he might vanish if you spoke too loudly.

felix’s expression softened further, his lips curving into a smile so warm it felt like sunlight breaking through a storm. “you can,” he said, his voice gentle, almost reverent.

you reached out, and when your fingers met his, a jolt of warmth spread through you like ripples in still water. his skin wasn’t just soft—it was otherworldly, as if every molecule hummed with energy, radiating life and something deeper, something unnameable.

you gasped softly at the sensation, your fingertips brushing along the back of his hand. “it’s like… you’re made of light,” you murmured, your voice filled with awe.

felix chuckled softly, the sound low and soothing. “in a way, i suppose i am,” he replied, his thumb lightly brushing against your knuckles. “but what matters is that i’m here. with you.”

the weight of his words hit you, and your breath caught in your throat. you looked up at him, your eyes searching his for answers. “why are you doing this?”

his expression became more serious, though his touch remained tender. “because you deserve to feel loved, to feel cared for. you’ve been carrying so much for so long, and i couldn’t stand to see you bear it alone.”

your lips quivered, and tears began to well in your eyes. you fought them back, but the sheer kindness in his words made it impossible. “i don’t understand,” you whispered, shaking your head slightly. “why me? i’m nobody special.”

felix’s dark eyes softened even further, and he took a small step closer, his presence as overwhelming as it was comforting. “you are special,” he said firmly, his voice filled with quiet conviction. “you’ve survived so much, endured what most wouldn’t. you have a strength you don’t even realize.”

the tears spilled over then, and he reached out to gently brush them away, his touch featherlight. “you don’t have to do it alone anymore,” he said, his voice a vow. “i’m here. for as long as you’ll let me be.”

you stared at him, your heart swelling with emotions you hadn’t felt in years. gratitude. hope. maybe even something more.

but before you could speak, the dream began to shift, the bright marble surroundings fading into soft mist. you panicked, reaching for him as the world around you dissolved.

“felix, wait—don’t go!” you cried, desperation in your voice.

he cupped your face in his hands, his gaze locking onto yours with an intensity that made the fading dream still for a moment. “i’m never far,” he promised, his voice steady and unshakable. “call for me, and i’ll come.”

and then he was gone.  you woke up clutching your hand to your chest, as if trying to hold onto the feeling of him for just a little longer.

the memory of his words and his touch stayed with you, and for the first time in a long while, you felt like maybe—just maybe—things could get better.

you found yourself spending more and more time with felix in your dreams, sharing conversations that ranged from the mundane to the profound. each night felt like peeling back another layer of his essence, and the bond between you deepened in ways you never imagined possible. he spoke to you with a sincerity that left you feeling safe and cherished, sharing stories of his watchful presence over the years, recounting moments when he had intervened in unseen ways to keep you safe. the weight of knowing just how much he had done for you was both humbling and overwhelming.

the concept of a guardian angel was still difficult for you to wrap your mind around—an ethereal being solely dedicated to protecting you. but even harder to believe was the fact that felix was yours. all yours.

felix never outright told you how much he cared for you, though you began to sense it in the way his gaze lingered, in the warmth of his words, and in the gentle way he reached out to comfort you. he held himself back, aware of your past pain, and was careful to move at a pace that respected your healing. he wanted to be patient, to give you all the time you needed, even as his feelings for you grew with each passing moment.

what he didn’t know was that you were falling for him just as quickly. the connection between you felt as natural as breathing, as though the universe itself had woven your fates together. the once-dreamlike visits began to feel more vivid and tangible, as if the line between the dream world and reality was slowly blurring.

by the time a month had passed, seeing him each night had become as natural as the sun setting. you found yourself eagerly anticipating the moment you would drift off to sleep, knowing he would be there waiting for you, his presence offering you a kind of solace you hadn’t felt in years. it was no longer just a dream; it was a sanctuary. a place where you could be yourself, free from judgment, and bask in the warmth of someone who truly cared.

of course, it didn’t last. how could it? luck had never been on your side, and this fleeting comfort seemed no different. without warning, felix was gone. the dreams you once eagerly anticipated were now nothing but empty darkness, leaving you tossing and turning in your bed, haunted by the void his absence created. you replayed your last conversation over and over in your mind, searching for any clue, any indication of what might have gone wrong. everything had seemed so normal—he was attentive, warm, and genuinely happy to be with you. there was no sign that anything was amiss.

the silence left you with nothing but questions. had you said something to offend him? had he grown tired of you? the thought gnawed at you, stirring feelings of abandonment and self-doubt. yet, what you didn’t know—what you couldn’t know—was that felix hadn’t chosen to leave. felix had gotten into trouble. big trouble.

far away from the sanctuary of your dreams, felix stood before the higher celestial realms, his head bowed in silent shame. the luminous expanse was unlike anything mortal eyes could comprehend—a vast court of blinding light, with entities of immeasurable power seated upon towering thrones of radiant energy. their voices were neither spoken nor heard but resonated directly within his being, each word a vibration that seemed to shake the very fabric of his existence.

“you have broken our most sacred laws, felix,” the central figure intoned, its voice a perfect balance of wrath and sorrow. “angels are not to reveal themselves to the living. and yet, you have not only shown yourself—you have formed a connection.”

felix clenched his fists at his sides, his golden head still lowered. “i couldn’t stand by and watch her suffer anymore,” he admitted, his voice steady despite the gravity of his situation. “she needed me. she needed someone.”

the entity’s light flared brighter, casting long shadows that seemed to pull at felix’s very essence. “your intentions may have been pure, but your actions were reckless. you risked exposing our realm to the mortal plane and disrupted the natural order.”

another voice, colder and sharper, chimed in. “you allowed emotion to cloud your duty. this is not love; it is folly. and now, you must face the consequences of your defiance.”

felix finally lifted his head, his freckled face set with quiet determination. “if loving her is a crime, then i will accept whatever punishment you deem necessary. but i don’t regret what i’ve done. she was alone in a way no one should ever have to be.”

the celestial beings exchanged glances, their forms shifting and flickering with the intensity of their deliberation. finally, the central figure spoke again, its tone heavy with finality. “felix, you are hereby stripped of your ability to interact with her. you will be confined to the astral plane, unable to enter her dreams or manifest in her presence. should you attempt to defy this order, the consequences will be irrevocable.”

the words struck him like a physical blow, and felix staggered, his heart aching with the weight of his punishment. to be kept away from you, to be forced to watch your pain from a distance without being able to comfort you—yet again–it was torment.

but there was nothing he could do. with a final flash of light, the court dissolved, and felix was left alone in the vast, endless expanse of the astral plane, his physical connection to you severed.

back in your world, you sat on your bed, staring at the clock as tears streamed down your face. the weight of his absence was unbearable, a silent ache that pressed against your chest. you whispered his name into the dark, hoping against hope that he could hear you, not knowing that he was out there, whispering your name too.

felix could still watch over you, still fulfill his celestial duties to keep you safe, but it wasn’t the same. something had shifted—an invisible barrier now confined him to the most basic of his responsibilities. no longer could he visit your dreams or stand by your side as you slept, even if you couldn’t see him. it tore at him. every part of him yearned to return, to let you know he was still there, to reassure you in the way only he could.

he could feel the ache of your unanswered questions, the way you were consumed by his sudden absence. you were falling deeper into a loneliness that clawed at your soul, a loneliness that made his punishment feel like a knife twisting in his chest. he knew you were hurting in ways you hadn’t felt in a long time, and the knowledge that he was the cause—however unintended—made it all the more unbearable.

winter came, and with it, you began to fade. the heavy, suffocating emptiness seeped back into your life, wrapping itself around you like a cold, unrelenting fog. your appetite vanished, and the simplest tasks became insurmountable. you stopped answering texts, ignoring calls from friends you hadn’t spoken to in weeks—some in months. but you couldn’t bring yourself to care.

nothing mattered anymore because nothing could fill the void felix had left. you tried, briefly, to shake the feeling, but no one could make you feel the way he did. felix had ruined you for anyone else, his presence so uniquely comforting and irreplaceable that his absence felt like a gaping wound.

felix watched helplessly, his golden light dimmer than it had ever been. he saw the way your energy drained, the light in your eyes fading. he knew he was the one thing that could pull you out of this darkness, and yet, he was forbidden from reaching you. he spent countless moments wrestling with his own helplessness, the longing to be with you tearing him apart.

in the nights that followed, as you lay in your bed staring at the ceiling with tear-streaked cheeks, he whispered your name softly into the void, desperate for you to hear, even if he knew it was impossible. all he could do was hope.

the dark feelings were relentless, clawing at the edges of your mind, whispering venomous lies that you couldn’t escape. for months, they lingered, festering in the absence of light. no friends, no family, no felix—just you and the unyielding barrage of your thoughts. you had tried to fight it, to push forward, but the weight of it all was suffocating.

one cold winter night, as the world outside lay silent under a blanket of snow, you sat at the edge of your bed, staring at the empty room around you. the loneliness felt louder than any noise could. enough was enough, you thought. the hollow ache in your chest felt unbearable, and you saw no way out.

you grabbed a piece of paper and a pen, your hands trembling as you began to write. words spilled out, raw and unfiltered—apologies to those you thought might care, explanations for your decision, and an overwhelming sense of defeat. the letter wasn’t long; it didn’t need to be. when you finished, you folded it neatly and placed it on your nightstand.

the pills sat in the cabinet for months, untouched but always there. you retrieved them now, your breath shaky as you poured them into your palm. one by one, they gleamed under the dim light of your bedside lamp, little capsules of finality. you clutched them tightly, tears slipping down your face, mingling with the numbness that had overtaken you.

but just as you raised your hand, the room shifted. the light flickered, a sudden gust of vanilla-scented air brushing against your skin. it was so sudden and so familiar that your hand froze. the bottle slipped from your grasp, clattering to the floor, pills scattering across the wooden boards.

and then you saw him.

felix stood before you, his form shimmering like an ethereal beacon against the darkness. his golden hair glowed faintly, his freckled face etched with desperation and anguish. he looked at you, and for a moment, you could see the pain in his eyes—a reflection of your own.

“don’t,” he whispered, his voice cracking with emotion. “please don’t.”

your breath hitched as you stared at him, unsure if he was real or just another cruel trick of your mind. “you… you left me,” you choked out, tears streaming freely now. “i thought you were gone forever.”

“i didn’t want to go,” felix said, stepping closer, his presence radiating warmth. “they made me. but i couldn’t stay away anymore. i  can’t lose you.”

you felt his hands, warm and soft, cupping your trembling ones. the faint buzz of energy that accompanied his touch was a reminder of the bond you shared. “i’m so sorry,” he murmured, his voice filled with guilt. “i failed you.”

“no,” you whispered, shaking your head. “you didn’t. i just… i can’t do this anymore, felix. i can’t keep feeling like this.”

“you’re not alone,” he said firmly, his golden eyes locking onto yours. “you never were, and you never will be. i’ll fight for you, even if it costs me everything. but you have to promise me something.”

“what?” you asked, your voice barely audible.

“promise me you’ll hold on,” he said, his hands tightening slightly around yours. “even when it’s hard, even when it feels impossible. i’ll be here. i’ll always find a way to be here.” 

the intensity of his words wrapped around you like a lifeline. for the first time in months, a glimmer of hope pierced through the suffocating darkness. you nodded, tears spilling as you whispered, “i promise.” felix pulled you into his arms, his embrace warm and grounding. for a moment, time stood still, and the only thing that mattered was that he was here.

felix’s comfort only lasted a fleeting moment. his golden eyes, filled with relief as he cradled your face, suddenly clouded with pain. his expression twisted, and with a sharp intake of breath, he dropped to his knees beside your bed. his hands clutched at his chest as if trying to hold something unseen together, his gasps turning into strangled cries.

"felix?" you called out, panic lacing your voice as you knelt beside him, your hand pressing firmly against his trembling shoulder. the warmth of his skin beneath your touch felt fleeting, fragile, like it was slipping away. "what’s happening? tell me!"

he tried to speak, his lips parting, but no words came. instead, he groaned, his body convulsing slightly as though an unbearable weight pressed down on him. his anguish was palpable, his gasps ragged and labored, his entire form shuddering under some invisible force.

then, a sound—a haunting, visceral snap—echoed in the air, like the ripping of fabric mixed with the grotesque crunch of bone. felix’s head shot back, and he let out a heart-wrenching wail that cut through the room like a blade. his back arched unnaturally, his hands clawing at the air as if trying to grasp something that was no longer there.

you froze, horrified, as the source of his agony became clear. through the thin white cloth of his shirt, you saw it—two jagged, open wounds on his back, seeping blood that shouldn’t have existed. the fabric clung to the injuries, staining crimson as the bleeding continued.

"felix, what’s happening?!" you cried, your voice trembling as your heart raced wildly in your chest. you tried to steady him, your hands gripping his shoulders, but he flinched, his body recoiling from the touch like it burned.

he groaned again, his voice hoarse and broken. his glowing, ethereal presence dimmed before your eyes, his radiant skin now pallid and sallow. the faint hum of electricity you always felt when you touched him—gone. even the scent of vanilla, so comforting and familiar, seemed to fade, replaced by the metallic tang of blood.

his breathing was ragged, shallow, and his entire form quivered with agony. "no... no..." he muttered weakly, his voice barely a whisper.

"felix," you choked out, your tears blurring your vision. you pressed your hands to his face, your touch desperate. "please, what’s happening to you? tell me what to do!"

he looked at you then, his eyes swimming with sorrow and pain so profound it felt as if it might shatter you. his voice was barely audible, cracked and broken as he rasped, "they’ve... taken it... everything. my wings... my grace..."

your breath hitched, your mind reeling as the realization dawned on you. felix wasn’t just in pain—he had been exiled. stripped of his celestial essence, cast down to a mortal existence for breaking the sacred laws he once upheld.

tears streamed down your face as you tried to support his trembling body, your heart breaking at the sight of him so vulnerable, so human. "you’re bleeding," you whispered, your voice trembling as you pressed your hands against his back in a futile attempt to stem the flow.

"it doesn’t matter," he said, his words slurred with exhaustion. "i... i couldn’t stay away. i knew this would happen, but i couldn’t leave you... not like that."

the weight of his sacrifice hit you like a tidal wave, and you sobbed openly, clutching him tightly as he collapsed against you. felix’s breaths were shallow, his body heavy and weak as he leaned into your embrace.

"you shouldn’t have done this," you murmured, your voice cracking with guilt and despair.

"i had to," he whispered, his voice barely audible. "i love you.." 

felix’s whispered confession hung in the air like a fragile thread, his words trembling with vulnerability. his golden eyes, dulled by exhaustion, searched yours for a reaction. the weight of his love—of everything he had given up—pressed against your chest, making it hard to breathe.

"i love you," he repeated, stronger this time, as if saying it louder could convince you of its truth. his hand, trembling but resolute, reached up to touch your cheek, his thumb brushing away your tears. "i’ve loved you for so long... even before you knew i existed. watching over you, seeing your pain, your strength... i couldn’t stand to just watch anymore. i couldn’t lose you."

tears streamed down your face as you cupped his face, his skin warm beneath your palms but lacking the celestial glow you’d once marveled at. "felix," you choked out, your voice thick with emotion. "you gave up everything for me. how could i ever be worth that?"

his lips curled into a faint, pained smile. "you’ve always been worth it. you’re worth every punishment, every scar, every moment of this mortal life. i would do it all over again just to see you safe, just to be with you."

you shook your head, overwhelmed by the intensity of his words. "i don’t deserve this. i don’t deserve you."

"yes, you do," he countered, his voice steady despite the exhaustion weighing him down. "you deserve to be loved, truly loved, in a way that heals instead of hurts. and if i’m the one who can give that to you, then i’ll bear whatever it takes."

his words cracked something open inside you—a dam you’d been holding back for so long. the love you felt for him, so deep and consuming, poured out all at once. "felix, i love you too," you confessed, your voice trembling. "i’ve been so scared to admit it, even to myself, but i do. i love you more than i’ve ever loved anyone."

felix’s eyes widened, glistening with tears of his own, and for a moment, the weight of the world seemed to lift. his arms, though weak, wrapped around you tightly, pulling you into a desperate embrace. "you don’t know how much it means to hear you say that," he murmured against your hair.

you clung to him, your heart aching with both love and fear. "but what happens now? you’ve already lost so much because of me."

felix pulled back just enough to look at you, his expression resolute despite the pain etched into his features. "we’ll figure it out together," he promised. "no matter what comes next, i’m not leaving your side. not now, not ever."

his words were a lifeline, a tether to hope in the storm of uncertainty surrounding you. 

as felix’s promise lingered in the air, his golden eyes searched yours with such intensity that it felt as though time had momentarily stopped. despite the anguish and exhaustion etched into his features, there was an undeniable pull between the two of you—something raw, something unspoken.

your fingers instinctively moved to his face, brushing back the damp strands of hair that clung to his forehead. he leaned into your touch, his eyes fluttering shut for a brief moment as if savoring the simple intimacy of it.

"felix," you whispered, your voice barely audible, "you're all i have."

his gaze snapped back to yours, filled with equal parts tenderness and desperation. "and you're everything i’ve ever wanted."

before you could reply, felix closed the distance between you. his lips met yours in a kiss so gentle it felt like it could break with the wrong move. there was no hesitation, no uncertainty—just the unyielding truth of your shared emotions spilling into each other.

his kiss deepened as his trembling hands cupped your face, pulling you closer, as though he feared you might slip away if he let go. you felt the warmth of him, even in his weakened state, and the love he poured into that single moment overwhelmed you.

your hands gripped the fabric of his shirt, anchoring yourself to him as the kiss turned more urgent. the pain, the fear, the heartbreak—they all melted away, leaving only the two of you and the fire igniting between you.

felix broke the kiss briefly, resting his forehead against yours, his breathing ragged. "i can’t lose you," he murmured, his voice trembling with raw emotion. "not again. never again."

"you won’t," you promised, your voice steady despite the tears still streaming down your face. "i’m here. i’m not going anywhere."

as if reassured by your words, felix pulled you closer, his lips finding yours again with renewed fervor. his kisses were desperate yet tender, an unspoken apology for the pain you’d endured and a silent vow to never let you feel that way again.

something inside felix had snapped. whatever holy laws that prevented him from feeling this primal, sinful desire for you, they were long gone. something about kissing your lips, tasting you, drinking you in.. drove him into high gear. his hands were never ending in their exploration of your skin, roaming your body under your clothes. soft hums of appreciation left his lips as they danced hungrily against yours. 

his love and affections for you were obvious.. but this instantly grew beyond an emotional depth, and he wanted to claim you. in this instant, it was more than wanting to care for you emotionally. he longed to satisfy your every desire, offering you the most exquisite sensations a human could experience. he wanted to give you even the slightest taste of heaven, even if he was no longer an angel. 

his injuries and newfound pain were at the back of his mind–his main focus was you. finally, it was you. 

your hands slid up his arms, feeling the tension in his muscles as he held onto you like you were his lifeline. his body was warm, his presence grounding, and for the first time in what felt like forever, the crushing weight of your loneliness lifted.

the heat between you grew, felix’s touch becoming bolder as he brushed his hands down your sides, hesitant yet yearning. you felt his fingers tremble slightly, a reminder of his fragile state, but he didn’t pull away. instead, he held you tighter, pressing kisses along your jawline and down to the curve of your neck.

"felix," you whispered, your voice catching as his lips lingered on your skin.

he paused, his breath warm against your collarbone as he pulled back just enough to meet your gaze. his eyes were filled with love, devotion, and a vulnerability that took your breath away. "tell me if this is too much," he said softly, his voice hoarse but steady.

"it’s not," you replied, your own voice trembling. "but.. your back. you’re hurt."

felix’s lips quirked into a faint smile, his golden eyes softening even as his hands remained firmly on your waist. “don’t worry about me,” he murmured, his voice low and reassuring. “this… what i’m feeling right now, being here with you… it’s worth any pain. i’m fine.”

you searched his face, uncertain, your fingertips brushing over his cheek. the warmth of his skin, the sincerity in his gaze, soothed your lingering doubts. “but felix—”

“i want this,” he interrupted gently, his voice carrying a rare firmness. his hands slid up your sides, steady despite their earlier trembling, until they rested just below your ribs. “i want you. i’ve wanted you for so long, and now that i have you here, i’m not going to let anything take me away from you again.”

your heart clenched at the conviction in his words. the love in his gaze was overpowering, a force you couldn’t fight against even if you wanted to. “you’re sure?” you asked softly, needing his confirmation, your fingers brushing through his disheveled hair.

he exhaled shakily, leaning his forehead against yours, his breath mingling with your own. “i’m more sure of this than i’ve been of anything in my existence. i’ve spent so long watching over you, loving you from afar. i don’t want to hold back anymore.”

felix tilted your chin gently, capturing your lips in a kiss that felt different from before. it wasn’t just hungry or desperate—it was tender, deliberate, filled with a quiet intensity that made your knees weak. his hands moved down, gripping your hips and pulling you closer, as though he couldn’t stand even an inch of space between you.

his lips trailed down your neck, leaving a warm, tingling trail that made your breath hitch. he paused again, his voice barely above a whisper. “tell me if you need me to stop,” he said, his fingers curling into the fabric of your shirt.

you shook your head, your voice steady despite the rush of emotions swirling within you. “i don’t want you to stop, felix. i want you.”

at your words, felix released a shaky breath, his lips curling into a soft, relieved smile that sent a shiver down your spine. slowly, with a tenderness that belied the intensity of the moment, he grasped the hem of your shirt and began to lift it. the fabric slid over your skin with ease, leaving your stomach exposed to the cool air, and you felt your heart pounding like a drum in your chest.

you raised your arms, allowing him to remove the shirt entirely. the loss of its warmth left goosebumps in its wake, your skin tingling from the sudden exposure. felix’s gaze dropped, and you swore you saw his pupils dilate, his golden eyes darkening with something primal, something raw. his breath hitched as his gaze lingered on your bare skin, your braless chest rising and falling with each shallow breath. the chill of the room had already peaked your nipples, and the sight seemed to unravel him further.

a low, guttural sound escaped him, almost like a growl, as he leaned in. his lips brushed against the center of your chest, pressing soft, reverent kisses that made your breath catch. each touch was deliberate, tender, and filled with a worshipful intensity that made your mind spin.

his lips moved slowly, leaving warm trails across your skin as he kissed the delicate curve of one breast, then the other, lingering as though savoring every moment. the sensation sent jolts of heat coursing through your body, your chest heaving under his touch. felix took his time, his lips and hands mapping the contours of your body with a devotion that left you trembling.

your thoughts were a hazy blur, consumed by the realization of how intimate this moment was. felix—the celestial being who had once been tasked with shielding you from harm, who had watched over you like a guardian star—was now here, touching you in ways that felt both sinful and sacred. 

his hands, his lips, his every movement felt as though they belonged there, as if this connection between you was meant to be all along. the contrast of what he once was and who he was now only deepened the intensity of the moment. 

“i want to see more of you,” felix murmured, his voice low and thick with longing. his hand cupped the underside of your breast, his touch reverent, almost trembling. you met his gaze, your heart fluttering at the vulnerability in his eyes, and nodded slowly, offering him a soft smile.

standing, you reached for the knot on your pajama pants, untying it with shaky hands. felix’s eyes never left you, his gaze intense, watching every movement as if memorizing it. meanwhile, he began unbuttoning his pristine white shirt, the fabric catching slightly against his trembling fingers.

when the shirt finally slipped from his shoulders, you caught your breath. his honey-toned skin glowed faintly under the dim light, a stark contrast to the jagged wounds on his back and the fading bruises across his neck. he winced, a hiss escaping his lips as the shirt grazed the sensitive injuries, but the pain seemed to dissipate the moment his eyes landed on you.

you’d reclined on the bed, your pajama pants now discarded, leaving you in only your underwear. the soft light kissed your skin, highlighting every curve, and felix froze, his heart racing so wildly he thought it might burst.

he moved closer, his hands steady despite the overwhelming emotions coursing through him. leaning down, he pressed a kiss to each of your bent knees, his lips warm and tender against your skin. his hands trailed down your thighs, his fingertips grazing your soft flesh with a featherlight touch, as if afraid he might break you.

“felix?” you spoke, your voice shy and a little hoarse from the intensity of the moment.

“yes, my love?” he murmured, his tone soothing and steady, even as his lips brushed the sensitive skin of your inner thigh.

“how do you…” you hesitated, your cheeks burning as your voice dropped lower, “know what to do? i thought angels couldn’t—”

felix chuckled softly, the sound warm and reassuring. his hands continued their slow, adoring exploration of your skin, his lips hovering just above your thigh. “you’re right,” he said, his voice rich with affection. “angels don’t… but i’ve watched humans for centuries. seen their moments of love, of passion. i may not have experienced it before, but the thought of touching you, of being with you like this…” he paused, lifting his gaze to yours, his golden eyes filled with unwavering devotion. “it’s instinctual. it’s like i was made to know how to love you.”

his words sent a shiver through you, your chest tightening at the raw honesty in his voice. “felix…” you whispered, your hands reaching to cradle his face, your thumb brushing his cheek.

he leaned into your touch, his eyes closing briefly before he pressed a kiss to your palm. “if i’m clumsy or unsure,” he continued, his voice soft, “just tell me. guide me. all i want is to make you feel cherished, loved... whole.”

your heart swelled at his words, and you nodded, sitting up a bit to press your lips to his. “you’re doing everything right,” you assured him, your voice trembling with both nervousness and excitement.

felix’s lips curved into a soft smile against yours before he deepened the kiss, his touch growing more confident as his hands slid back to your thighs. his movements were reverent, as though worshiping every curve of your body. slowly, he shifted above you, breaking the kiss for a moment to meet your eyes, his gaze filled with both tenderness and longing.

one hand slipped down between your legs, his fingers brushing over your mound through the thin fabric of your panties. his golden eyes flickered down to watch his hand, but they quickly returned to your face, searching for your reaction. he pressed down with a little more pressure, the motion drawing a soft gasp from your lips. the sound sent a thrill through him, and a subtle smirk tugged at the corners of his mouth.

felix’s movements became more deliberate, his fingers creating a gentle rhythm as they teased you through the fabric. your hips instinctively rose to meet his touch, grinding against his hand as he followed your lead. the warmth of his palm, the delicate friction, sent sparks of pleasure racing through you.

“can i feel you... underneath?” he asked softly, his voice tinged with a mix of nervousness and desire. a faint blush dusted his cheeks, a charming reminder of his inexperience.

you reached up, threading your fingers through his tousled hair, offering him a reassuring smile. “yes, that’s okay,” you whispered.

he nodded, his lips brushing yours in a tender kiss before his hand slipped beneath the fabric of your underwear. both of your breaths hitched simultaneously as his fingers met your slick heat. the intimacy of the moment made your cheeks flush with warmth, your body responding instinctively to his touch.

felix’s fingers explored you slowly, his movements careful but curious, as though memorizing every contour of your most sensitive place. when he brushed his middle finger against your clit, a moan escaped your lips, your hips jerking slightly in response. the sound sent a jolt through him, his arousal growing, the evidence of his desire pressing against the confines of his pants.

he began to circle your clit, experimenting with pressure and rhythm, his focus entirely on your reactions. every gasp, moan, and shudder guided him, and the connection between you deepened with each passing moment. your breaths became ragged, your body arching into his touch as he expertly worked you closer to the edge.

“felix, i’m gonna... oh my g-god!” you stammered, your voice breaking as waves of pleasure built within you.

he leaned down, pressing kisses to your jaw and neck, his voice low and soothing. “it’s okay, love. let go for me,” he murmured, his words like a lifeline pulling you into bliss.

your orgasm hit with devastating intensity, your body trembling as waves of ecstasy washed over you. your legs shook uncontrollably, your nails digging into his forearm as you cried out, your voice cracking with the force of your release. felix watched you with awe, his heart swelling with pride as he took in the sight of you—your back arching off the bed, your mouth falling open in a silent scream, your entire form glowing with pleasure.

“you’re so beautiful,” he whispered, his voice thick with emotion, his chest tightening at the sight of you undone beneath him. the sheer intensity of your release and the knowledge that he had brought you to this point sent a surge of arousal through him, his own need nearly overwhelming.

as you descended from the peak of your bliss, your chest heaving with each breath, felix leaned in to press a delicate kiss to your temple. his touch was gentle, almost reverent, as his fingers softly brushed a strand of hair from your flushed face. “are you okay, my love?” he asked, his voice low and tender, full of concern.

you nodded, your lips curling into a shy, dazed smile. “mhm… that was… really good,” you murmured, your voice barely above a whisper.

a soft chuckle escaped felix’s lips as he carefully withdrew his hand from your panties, his golden gaze dropping to the slick coating his fingers. without hesitation, he brought the digits to his mouth, his lips parting as he sucked them clean with an experimental slowness. his eyes fluttered shut briefly, and when they reopened, they glimmered with darkened desire.

“you taste divine, y/n,” he murmured, his voice rich with admiration and unrestrained hunger.

your cheeks flamed at the sight of him savoring you, but your attention shifted to the noticeable bulge straining against his pants. the sight sent a fresh wave of heat pooling in your stomach, and when your gaze returned to his face, you found him already watching you. his eyes were soft yet filled with a pleading sort of anticipation, his vulnerability laid bare.

“can i…?” you asked cautiously, your hand lightly pressing against the outline of his arousal.

felix’s breath hitched at your touch, his expression briefly contorting, not in discomfort but in a momentary overwhelm at the unfamiliar sensation. “y-yes,” he stammered, his voice shaky. “but… be gentle, please?”

“of course,” you assured him, offering a comforting smile as you carefully guided him to lie back. “just relax. don’t worry about the sheets.”

he followed your guidance, grunting softly as he adjusted his position. though the movement aggravated his healing wounds, felix bit back any complaints, his focus entirely on you. how could he not, when you knelt before him, bare and beautiful, your hands already working to free him from his remaining clothes?

as you tugged his pants down, his erection sprang free, slapping against his toned stomach. you couldn’t help but admire him—his length was flushed a deep pink, the prominent head peeking shyly beneath the extra skin. he was perfect, and undeniably human in this moment.

you leaned down, pressing soft, deliberate kisses along the base of his shaft, your lips trailing up the warm skin. felix’s breathing grew uneven, his golden eyes flickering down to watch you, though he struggled to hold your gaze. his cheeks were painted with a faint blush, his flustered expression only adding to his allure.

“you’re so beautiful,” you whispered against his skin, your voice filled with awe.

felix’s lips parted as if to respond, but the words seemed to catch in his throat, replaced by a soft groan as you kissed the underside of his length. your touch was gentle, tender, as though you understood how new and overwhelming this was for him.

“does this feel okay?” you asked softly, your eyes seeking his for reassurance.

felix nodded quickly, his voice catching as he replied, “yes… it feels incredible.”

encouraged by his soft groans and whispered praises, you continued your delicate exploration, your lips and hands moving with care and devotion. felix’s chest rose and fell in a rhythm that matched the tremors of his breath, his hands clutching the sheets tightly as if anchoring himself to reality.

when your lips wrapped around his length, his entire body jerked slightly in response, a low groan escaping his parted lips. the sound was raw, unrestrained, and it sent a surge of confidence through you. you moved slowly, your mouth warm and wet as you took him deeper, your tongue teasing the sensitive head with deliberate flicks and swirls. with each motion, you made sure to pull the skin back gently, exposing the most sensitive part of him to your ministrations.

“god, y/n… that’s—” his voice cracked, his words dissolving into a panting moan. his abs flexed involuntarily under your touch, and his head fell back onto the pillow, golden hair splayed like a halo. his hands left the sheets to tangle in your hair, his fingers trembling as they brushed against your scalp, though he didn’t pull or guide—he simply held on as if the pleasure was too much to bear alone.

your pace remained steady, your tongue working magic against him as you hollowed your cheeks to increase the intensity. felix’s reactions were mesmerizing—his breath hitched, his thighs quivered, and his lips parted to let out soft, helpless moans. you could feel his arousal building, his body tightening under your touch.

“a-ah… wait!” he suddenly cried out, his voice desperate as his hips tensed.

alarmed, you pulled off immediately, his length slipping from your lips with a wet pop. “felix? did i hurt you?” you asked, your voice laced with concern, your eyes searching his flushed face for any sign of discomfort.

he shook his head quickly, his chest rising and falling with rapid breaths. “n-no, love,” he managed, his voice shaky but reassuring. “you didn’t hurt me. i just… i was getting close, and i… i didn’t want it to end so soon.” his golden eyes, filled with vulnerability and desire, met yours, and he offered a soft, apologetic smile. “i want to feel more with you. all of you.”

his words sent a new wave of warmth through your body, and you leaned up to press a gentle kiss to his lips. “it’s okay, felix,” you murmured against his mouth, your tone soothing. “we’ll go at your pace. i just want to make you feel good.”

felix’s breath hitched as he let out a shaky laugh, his hands cradling your face with a tenderness that seemed almost at odds with the raw desire in his eyes. his golden gaze searched yours as though looking for permission to continue. “you already make me feel incredible,” he murmured, his voice thick with emotion. “but… please, i need to feel you completely. let me… let me be inside you.”

the desperation in his plea made your heart skip a beat, his need evident in the way his length twitched against your skin. “are you sure?” you asked softly, your voice laced with caution and care.

“i’ve never been more sure of anything,” felix replied fervently, his hands trembling slightly as they traced down your sides. before you could say another word, he gently guided you onto your back, his movements deliberate but brimming with urgency.

he tugged at the fabric of your panties, slipping them down and casting them aside, his eyes never leaving yours. the sight of you bare beneath him seemed to stoke his desire even further, his lips crashing into yours with newfound hunger. his knees parted your thighs a little more, positioning himself between them as he kissed you deeply, his tongue exploring yours with a fervor that left you breathless.

your legs instinctively wrapped around his waist, pulling him closer. the anticipation was electric, your body taut with expectation. felix pulled back just enough to look into your eyes, his hand guiding his aching length to your entrance. “if you need me to stop, just say the word, okay?” he whispered, his tone full of care despite the tension in his voice.

you nodded, biting your lip as your head sank into the pillow, bracing yourself for the moment you had both been yearning for. slowly, felix began to push inside you, his hips trembling as he sank into your warmth. the sensation overwhelmed him instantly—your tight heat surrounding him in a way that made his breath falter and a shudder rack his body.

a gasp escaped your lips as he slid all the way in with one smooth motion, the stretch both surprising and exhilarating. felix braced himself on his forearms, his face hovering just above yours. his eyes fluttered shut, and a whimper escaped his lips as he struggled to stay composed. “god… so tight…,” he muttered, his voice strained as he adjusted to the sensation.

for a moment, he stilled, giving you both a chance to adjust. his gaze returned to yours, full of concern and adoration. “are you okay?” he asked, his voice a whisper.

“y-yeah,” you managed, your voice breathy. “you can move.”

felix exhaled a deep breath and began to roll his hips, starting with a moderate pace. his movements were tentative at first, his eyes fixed on your expression to ensure you were comfortable. but as your gasps turned to soft moans, his confidence grew.

the friction was maddening, his steady rhythm sending waves of pleasure through both your bodies. each thrust drew a mix of grunts and whimpers from felix, his forehead resting against yours as he poured his entire being into every movement. “you feel… so good,” he groaned, his voice shaky with restraint.

your hands found purchase on his back, being cautious of his wounds. your fingers dug into the taut muscles as his pace began to quicken. the pressure was building, both of you lost in the connection that felt as much emotional as it was physical. “felix…” you moaned his name, your legs tightening around his waist as his hips snapped against yours with increasing fervor.

his breathing became erratic, his pace growing desperate as he chased his release. “y/n… i can’t…” he gasped, his body trembling with the effort to hold back.

“it’s okay,” you whispered, your voice tender and encouraging. “let go, felix.”

with a strangled cry, felix buried himself as deeply as he could, his entire body shuddering as his climax overtook him. his hips stilled, pressing tightly against yours as warmth filled you, his groans muffled against your neck as he clung to you like you were his lifeline.

for a long moment, the only sounds in the room were your mingled breaths, the quiet intimacy of the moment enveloping you both. felix finally lifted his head, his flushed face framed by his damp hair, and his eyes met yours with a look of pure devotion. “i love you,” he whispered, the words filled with awe.

your heart swelled, and you reached up to cradle his face. “i love you too, felix.”

as the two of you lay entwined in the quiet aftermath, the world seemed to fall away, leaving only the warmth of his body against yours and the steady rhythm of his breathing. felix’s fingers lazily traced patterns on your skin, his touch grounding and tender. there was a newfound softness in his gaze as he looked at you, a vulnerability that mirrored your own. whatever boundaries had once kept him from you—divine laws, celestial duties, or his own insecurities—had crumbled completely, leaving behind a love that was raw, human, and boundless. in that moment, as you rested your head against his chest, lulled by the sound of his heartbeat, you both understood that this was where you belonged: together, in a love that defied heaven and earth.

[fairytaleendingss]

Room for One More?

Chapter 9

Summary: Secrets are revealed on New Years Eve.

CW: Alcohol consumption, sexual references, mention of cigarettes, swearing, lots of drama.

Pairing: Poly!Marauders x fem!reader

Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4, Chapter 5, Chapter 6, Chapter 7, Chapter 8

--

"YOU SLEPT WITH SIRIUS?!"

"Shh! Mary keep your voice down," you uttered, looking around to see how many of your coworker's heads had swivelled towards you in response to Mary's loud exclamation.

"Sorry," she grimaced. "I'm just.. I'm in shock."

You sighed and leaned back where you were perched on the corner of her desk. "I think I am a bit as well."

There was a pause.

"Well, was it good?"

"Mary! Oh my god!" you groaned and threw a hand over your face to hide your mortification.

"What? I'm just asking. I can't say that I haven't imagined it once or twice myself-"

You slapped her gently across the shoulder with the back of your hand. "You're distrubed. You know that?"

She smirked. "You know you love me."

You rolled your eyes affectionately at your friend. "Anyway, we'd been drinking and it was Christmas and we were having such a wonderful time. I think we just got swept up in it all and now I don't know what to do. Things have been kind of... weird between us."

"Well have you guys talked about it?" Mary inquired.

"That's the thing. Afterwards he just kind of moved on like it never happened. I don't know if he thinks it was a mistake or something but it's stressing me out."

"Hmm," a thoughtful look crossed Mary's face as she took everything in. "Well how are you feeling about it? Do you think it was a mistake?"

You bit the inside of your cheek. "No? I-I don't think so. I dont know."

A look of realisation washed over Mary's face. "Do you like him??"

"I mean, of course I like him. I'm just not sure I like like him."

Your friend sighed exasperatedly. "Oh my god! We're not in Primary School, just answer the damn question!"

"Fine! I guess the answer is... yes?" you sighed. "But whatever! Does it even make a difference? He's made it exceptionally clear that he doesn't feel the same way."

"Look," Mary huffed, her expression growing sincere. "Sirius is great. He's fun and friendly and a total flirt but he's also been known to be a little emotionally constipated. Just be honest with him. Talk to him about it. He's not going to be able to pick up on any signals you're trying to send him."

You squeezed your eyes shut and let out a breath throught your nose. "Ugh fine."

"Good girl," Mary smiled. "Now go away. I actually have some work to get done today."

"Oh fine. I suppose I know when I'm not wanted," you teased, getting up and walking back towards your desk.

"Love you!" Mary called lightheartedly as you walked away.

"Yeah, yeah," you joked in response.

As you arrived back at your desk and slumped down in your chair, prepared to get back to work, a head peaked down at you over the cubical.

"Oh, you're back, I see."

You jumped slightly at the unexpected voice and looked up to see its perpertrator.

"Yes, Glenn. Hi. Is there anything I can help you with?"

Glenn was a new employee in your office and he sat in the cubical opposite yours. He was only a few years older than you and he was tall and fit with short blonde hair and piercing blue eyes. In the few weeks you'd known him for, he'd been particularly friendly towards you and recently you'd been getting the idea that he had taken a liking to you.

You weren't interested of course. He was an attractive guy but not really your type. And with everything going on with Sirius over the last week, you'd been making a effort to put some distance between you. You definitely weren't looking for anything of that nature right now and you didn't want to give him the wrong impression. However, Glenn was nothing if not persistant.

"Actually, I was just wondering if you had any plans for new years tonight? A few of my mates are throwing a party and you're welcome to join us if you're interested."

You sent him you're most empathetic smile. "That sounds lovely but unfortunately I already have some plans with my friends."

He sighed, flashing you a grin that looked suspiciously rehearsed. "Oh well. No problem. It was worth a shot. You have fun tonight."

"You too, Glenn."

As the man dissapeared back over the divider, you let out a heafty sigh. Tonight was surely going to be interesting.

--

The view was impeccable from the bar where your friends had gathered to spend New Years. In fact, seated beside a huge floor to ceiling window, you suspected you'd have a clear view of the New Years fireworks.

It was a classy joint, one that Dorcas had managed to get you access to through one of her fancy lawyer contacts.

Everyone was assembled on stools around a table, looking out over the London skyline. It was about four hours until midnight and the group was chatting excitedly in the lead up.

"I've got shots!" Mary called out and everyone cheered as she returned to the table with a tray.

She passed the drinks around and then took her seat beside you.

"Well, I suggest a toast!" James called out, grabbing the attention of the group. "To a wonderful year ahead, and many more memories with old, and new, friends!"

He emphasised the last line with a pointed look in your direction and you felt your cheeks growing hot.

"Cheers!" Marlene shouted enthusiastically and the others echoed her sentiments, clinking glasses and swallowing their drinks.

The burning of the liquor was welcomed as the drink ran down your throat. You'd been thinking a lot about what Mary had said to you in regards to your situation with Sirius. And as he sat beside you, laughing animatedly at one of Peter's stories, it only confirmed your worst fears. Maybe you were starting to develop feelings for your roommate. You grimaced at the thought. Things were bound to get messy in situations like this.

"So guys," Sybil piped up from across the table. "Let's all go around and say our New Years resolutions."

"Oh, I'll go first!" James volunteered. "I hope my team continues to play a great season annnddd... I want to work out more."

There was a collective groan.

"Come on, James. That's not a real one!" Mary complained.

Sirius chuckled, taking a pointed sip of his drink. "Yeah! You already work out like 7 times a day!"

"Ugh, okay fine!" James responded with groan. He thought for a moment. "How about this one. I'd like to fall in love this year."

You didn't miss the way his eyes flickered across the table towards Lily and you felt your heart sink. Lily seemed to take notice a well as she averted her eyes, taking a heafty gulp of the drink in her hand.

"Aww, James. Always the romantic, aren't you?" Marlene chuckled.

"Shut up." James rolled his eyes playfully. "Your turn then, Marls."

"Okay," She took a deep breath. "My goal this year is to become super rich and famous and sucessful."

"I second that!" Mary called across the table and you giggled as they clinked their glasses.

"Y/n. Your turn," Dorcas announced.

"Oh okay, um..." you thought for a moment, your gaze flashing to James and Remus across the table, then over to Sirius, who was watching you expectanly, a playlful glimmer in his stormy eyes.

You then looked back towards the rest of the group. "This year, I'd like to spend some more time with you lovely people."

A round of cooing echoed across the table and Mary threw her arms around you.

"Well aren't you just the sweetest!"

"Oh, and I'd like to work more on my novel," you added.

"Alright, alright. Sirius, you're up!" Marlene chimed.

The boy beside you pursed his lips, looking off into the distance as if deep in thought. Then, after a long moment, he turned back to all of you with a mischievous smirk on his lips.

"This year, I want to have lots of amazing sex!"

"Ew. Sirius, you're so foul," Lily exclaimed, followed by a symphany of similar sentiments from the other members of the group.

While everyone else was distracted, grumbling and groaning about Sirius' bluntness, the man leaned down towards you.

"You look great tonight, by the way." He whispered into your hair.

You gulped thickly, not quite sure what to do with yourself. You opted for downing the remainder of your Vodka, Lime and Soda.

--

As the evening drew on, you found yourself growing more anxious in Sirius' presence. You weren't quite sure what his game was, whether it was the alcohol or he was just feeling extra bold tonight, but he'd been suspiciously flirtatious.

You didn't know how to respond. Part of you wanted to let him. To let him woo you and go crawling back for more of what you'd had together on Christmas Night. However, the other, more logical part of you, told you that was a terrible idea. He was your roommate afterall. The last thing you wanted was to start some complicated friends-with-benefits situation with a guy you lived with, especially one that you had sort of, maybe, possibly had caught feelings for.

You downed another drink, feeling the alcohol grip you and hoped it would help to ease the nerves ever so slightly. You realised then, that you were staring.

Sirius had gone to the bar to order another round of drinks and you'd been watching with bated breath as he sent his signature smile to a girl wearing an explicitly tight black dress. You noticed the way she leaned forward, pressing her cleavage up against the bar as she spoke to him. God, could she be anymore obvious?

"Calm the hell down, y/n!" You thought to yourself. "It's not like you guys are together. He can flirt with whoever he wants."

"Hey, are you okay?" you raked your eyes away from the scene as a voice came from beside you.

"Yeah, yeah. I'm fine," You muttered absently, too distracted to notice that it was Remus who asked the question.

"Okay, never have I ever... made out with more than one person on the same night!" Mary's voice rang out and you forced your attention back to the group.

You weren't sure when this game had begun but you suspected it was suggested by one of the girls (likely Mary or Marlene) as a way to pass the final hour until midnight. You hadn't participated in this game since probably highschool, but you were all a few drinks in at this point so you figured, what the hell?

You watched as Marlene, James and Dorcas all took a sip. Then Lily sent Mary a pointed look.

"Come on, Mary. That's not how the game works. You have to say something you haven't done."

"I haven't!" Mary responded. Then she paused. "Oh wait, yeah I definitely have."

Everyone chuckled as she took a drink.

"Alright! Dorcas! Your turn." Mary nudged the girl in the side.

Dorcas rolled her eyes. "For the record, I just want to say, I think this game is stupid."

"Come on babe. Don't be a party pooper!" Marlene exclaimed, leaning in towards her girlfriend. "How else are we supposed to learn everyone's deepest darkest secrets."

Dorcas sighed and shook her head but there was a hint of a smile on her face. She really could never say no to Marlene.

"Ugh, fine. Never have I ever stolen something."

"Well that's a hard one," Mary muttered. "What do we count as stealing? Because I've stolen stuff from James a ton of times."

"Oi!" James shouted, looking positively affronted. Mary sent him an apologetic smile.

"No, not like that," Dorcas clarified. "It had to have been from an actual shop."

You all sat up straight for a moment, curiously looking around the group to see if anyone had. Hesitantly, Peter lifted his glass to his lips.

"Pete! What the hell!" James exclaimed.

"I don't know, I went through a phase in highschool!"

"What sort of stuff did you take?" Marlene pressed.

Peter shrugged. "Chocolate and ciggarettes, mostly."

There was an eruption of laughter that rippled across the table at Peter's revelation.

"Wow, I didn't know there was a degenerate among us," Lily teased, watching Peter's face flush bright red.

"Okay, okay. My turn!" Marlene said, once the laughter died down. "Never have I ever... gotten really sloshed and fallen down the stairs at my 18th birthday party"

"Hey! That's not fair!" James moaned, taking a sip of his beer. "You can't do targeted ones!"

Marlene just shrugged. "Sorry, but I don't think that was established in the rules."

James smirked. "Fine then! Never have I ever had sex with someone at this table."

Your blood ran cold for a moment as you glanced back towards the bar. You sighed in relief when you saw that Sirius was still over there. In that case, you technically hadn't slept with anyone at the table. You were off the hook for now.

Marlene rolled her eyes at James and took a drink, as well as Dorcas, Peter and Sybil, however, you watched James' eyes widen as Mary also took a long sip.

"Mary!" Lily hissed across the table. Your heart plummeted.

"What?" Mary shrugged, the alcohol clearly having gone to her head. "We have to! It's the rules."

"Wait! Hold on," Marlene murmered, her eyes drifting between the two girls. "Did you guys..."

There was a heavy anticipatory silence that hung over the table as you all awaited Lily's response. The girl grimaced, as she tried to muster some kind of explanation.

It was then that her eyes drifted up to meet James' pleading ones.

"Lily?" the boy asked softly. Your heart broke for him.

"So I guess the cat's out of the bag huh?" the girl sighed. "Mary and I have sort of been seeing each other. Romantically."

"Holy shit!" Marlene shouted, candid and straight to the point as she usually was in these situations.

"How long has this been going on?" Dorcas questioned.

"It's still really new," Lily explained.

"We were just trying to figure out the right time to tell you guys," Mary added.

"So you're the one Mary has been seeing?" James murmered.

"Yes," Lily responded. "I'm sorry James but you had to know it was never going to work out between us."

The boy sighed, running a hand through his unruly curls. "Yeah, I know."

Then he started to stand. "I think I just need some air for a minute."

"James, wait-" Remus reached out to grab his arm but James shook him off.

"I just need minute," he repeated, grabbing his coat from the back of his chair and hurrying towards the exit. Part of you wanted to go after him but the other part recognised that he probably needed some space to process things.

"Sorry, everyone. I didn't mean to ruin the night," Mary murmered folornly.

"No hun! you didn't ruin anything," you comforted.

"Yeah, we're really happy for you two," Dorcas added.

"Really?"

Everyone nodded.

"Absolutely. You both deserve to be happy," Remus confirmed.

Wide smiles crossed over the girls' faces.

--

It was two minutes until midnight and Sirius was nowhere to be seen. Despite your better judgement, you couldn't help but feel slightly disapointed. You supposed that there was some small aspect of your mind that hoped Sirius would be your New Years kiss.

You knew it was wishful thinking, especially when you hadn't even spoken about what happened between you, but with how he'd been acting towards you throughout the night, you'd allowed yourself to nurture that flicker of hope.

As people crowded around the window and the countdown began, you found your eyes searching the room for the dark haired man, wondering if just maybe, he'd make a last minute appearance.

"Five, four, three, two..."

You scanned the space one last time.

"One!"

You're last flicker of hope died out as your eyes finally landed on his form.

"Happy New Year!"

The shouts and cheers faded into the background as you watched Sirius press his lips to those of the boob-y blonde you'd seen him flirting with before.

The moment seemed to go in slow motion. You watched from afar as he tangled his hand in her hair, just as he'd done in yours only a week prior.

"Of course," you thought. "Typical"

It was Sirius Black you were talking about. You were stupid to think you meant anything more to him than a casual night of fun.

In an instant, you turned on your heel and walked towards the door, the sounds of the party fading into the background. You decided, instead of bumming around waiting for Sirius to notice you, you'd go look for James, just as you should've done much earlier.

The cold hit you like a block of cement as you stepped outside onto the street. It didn't take you long to find him.

He was sitting on the curb, outside of he bar, arms resting on his knees as he looked up towards the sky. Another explosion sounded and a flash of colour filled the air. In the distance, you could hear the cheers of excited people all around as they celebrated.

"Happy New Year, James."

He turned to look at you and in the flash of light, as another firework flickered across the sky, you were able to notice the faint tear tracks that lined his cheeks.

"Oh hey." he sniffled, rubbing a hand beneath his glasses and trying to regain a semblance of composure.

BANG!

You flopped unceremoniously onto the ground beside him as another flash filled the sky. You gave him a sympathetic smile. Funnily enough, in that moment, you knew exactly how he felt.

"Are you okay?" You asked him gently.

He let out a dry chuckle. "Yeah. I will be."

BANG!

"Good."

You both turned your gazes back to the display, taking in the beautiful array of colours filling the air. It wasn't quite the view you'd expected for the night, but somehow, that didn't seem to matter.

As you continued to watch the fireworks, you felt the gentle touch of a hand wrapping around your own. You smiled slightly as your fingers intertwined.

BANG!

Slowly, you shuffled closer and leaned into him, gently resting your head on James broad shoulder.

You stayed like that a while, just taking in the show, and each other's company.

--

Taglist:

@hisparentsgallerryy @navs-bhat @shushbruv @magicwithaknife @eeviee4 @notapoetjustscar @gugggu6gvai @robertsmithclone @ilovesugurugeto69 @taytayy178 @its-notkiee @bugworldsworld @switchingfandomslikecrazy @evangelquill, @delusional-4-fake-people, @ch4rlotte35, @insideoutjulie, @hiireadstuff, @laniirackssss, @starrystormwritings, @strategicsweetheart, @1800brat, @sammyreid, @frootloops1213, @ill-be-okay-soon-enough

[notjustjavierpena]

Parents

Series Masterpost | Main Masterpost | Support a disabled creator

A/N: Merry belated Christmas from me! I know this is my second Christmas fic this time around but I finally got the courage to write about Wife’s awful parents. 

Summary: Javier puts his foot down during Christmas with your toxic family. 

Pairing: Javier Peña x f!reader/you (no y/n)

Tags: Toxic family dynamics, psychological abuse, childhood trauma, Christmas, conflict and confrontation, sobbing, declarations of love, hurt/comfort, body/fat shaming

Word count: 5.7k

Link to this work on AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/61942318

Parents

You get a call from your parents’ home number a few weeks before Christmas. Your mother and father haven't actually bothered seeing you since your wedding day last year but Lucas is four months old now and there’s suddenly a strange interest from them in being grandparents to your firstborn. Somehow, they talk you into spending Christmas with them and reassure you that they’ll take care of everything as long as you bring their grandson. The whole idea causes a ball of anxiety to settle in your stomach, almost imitating getting hit right in the solar plexus with how much your breath struggles to even out as you tell Javier about it. Your husband agrees reluctantly but not without raising a concerned brow, asking you several times - and with days between each time - if you are absolutely sure. 

He even asks you now as he parks the car in your parents’ driveway, looking at you with a serious expression, brows furrowed while you sit stiffly in the passenger seat. You glance towards the front door, trying to act casual as if you’re staring at a wild animal who might pounce if it notices your anxiety. It is an odd feeling you get, staring at your childhood home but feeling more as if it is the scene of a crime. This house is not a memory of warm and fuzzy feelings but rather a place of constant criticism and unjust pain. 

Javier says your name softly beside you. On the backseat, Lucas hiccups.

“Do I look okay?” You quickly ask instead of acknowledging the tone of his voice, fixing your hair without changing anything. 

“Yeah,” he answers and tries not to comment on your nerves, “You look beautiful, mi amor (my love).”

The call from two weeks ago had your shoulders tensing up before you even answered the phone but the way they had reasoned you into revisiting the place of your hardest years has made your shoulders not come down again. 

You sigh gently and unbuckle your seatbelt, “Okay. I can do this for just an afternoon. Let’s get this over with.”

You climb out of the car, Javier following you after carefully unbuckling Lucas and cradling him in one arm while balancing the diaper bag on the other shoulder. You leave his car seat, knowing how much easier it would have been to transport your son inside in it but Lucas has been fussy all night. You really wish he hadn’t because you don’t want to go inside with only half the energy that a good night’s sleep could have provided. 

As you ring the doorbell, you take a look at Javier one last time, “Please don’t interfere. I don’t want to make everyone uncomfortable.”

“Baby, are you sure that—“

“Oh, there you are!” Your mother exclaims when she opens the door with a syrupy smile, “We were starting to wonder if you’d gotten lost.”

“Sorry. Life with a baby and all,” you shake your head with an embarrassed chuckle and try to ignore the tension in your muscles, shrugging your coat off your shoulders to reveal your wine-red button-up and dark skirt. 

“Honey, I thought you knew we always dress up a little during the Holidays,” your mother says while glancing at your outfit with veiled disdain, “Where’s that nice blue dress? With the ribbons?”

“This is all that fits me right now, that isn’t maternity clothes,” you answer apologetically at the first jab of many. Beside you, Javier takes a step closer to you without saying anything. 

“Anyway! Where’s the little man?” Your mother chirps, already having moved on and looking to Lucas who has started stirring in Javier’s arms. When she gets closer, about to reach out to run a hand over his little head, Lucas immediately starts whimpering as if he is aware of the unpleasantries that his mother has had to endure at the mercy of this woman. He knows the culprits before they’ve even revealed themselves. 

“Oh, he’s a little fussy, isn’t he?” She laughs it off and retreats much to your relief, letting Javier bounce your son to make him settle down again. When he quietens down again, you share a glance with your husband who signals that everything is okay. You take a deep breath and let him handle the situation. 

“Where’s Dad?” You ask to turn your attention away from your crying child, smoothing out a nonexistent crease in your skirt. 

“I think he’s just about to get the turkey out of the oven,” your mother says, wagging a finger in Lucas’ face with a little smile, “Why don’t you go say hi and I talk to my grandson for a moment? Oh, look at you, Lucas! You’re just perfect, aren’t you?”

You reluctantly leave the three of them to head for the kitchen. You can feel each family photograph staring back at you as you walk through the hallway to your destination; a picture of your five-year-old self on a bike but somehow no picture of your graduation ceremony as if it has been decided where things went wrong before you could acknowledge it yourself. 

“Hey Dad, smells so good in here,” the kitchen does indeed smell wonderfully as you walk through the door. Your father looks at you over his shoulder, giving you a little smile and you try not to think about how he didn’t bother to come out to greet you. 

“Mom and I were wondering if you were ever coming,” he notes while plating pieces of turkey meat. In the hallway, you can hear Javier striking up polite conversation. He’s handling your mother with his usual calmness, and you feel grateful for his presence yet embarrassed that you aren’t strong enough to handle it yourself.

You shrug a little, Javier’s presence giving you the courage to try and mirror said calmness, “Newborns, you know.”

“He’s four months,” he corrects. 

“Right, time flies,” you reply with your confidence fading fast, the words coming out in a way that doesn’t quite carry the quick wit that Javier usually loves about you. You touch your arm, standing awkwardly by the counter, “Still figuring it out as we go.”

Your father doesn’t turn around, “Parenting’s not rocket science, you know. Your mother and I managed just fine without all the made-up nonsense you young people talk about these days.”

You jump a little as your mother puts a hand on your shoulder and says your name to get your attention. You look back at her, “Can you set the table? I put the tablecloth ready on the silverware cabinet.”

“Sure, Mom,” you smile, already heading for the dining room to escape from your father’s subtle judgments. You find Javier has already gone, an irrational thought popping into your head of how he has bolted and left you to deal with your mom and dad by yourself. 

You glance into the kitchen as you start placing the plates in each of their respective places, “Where’s Javier?”

“He went to get the presents from the car,” your mother replies from the kitchen. You hear her take out a serving bowl from a cabinet. 

“Oh, I should go help him wi—“ 

“He’s your husband, sweetie. Let him handle it. There’s no need to emasculate him like that,” she is suddenly in the doorway, staring you down in a way that makes your hands shake. Her gaze drops to the table and her brows furrow, “You’re using the wrong plates!”

You look up with a racing heartbeat, “What?”

She sighs your name audibly, “These aren’t the Christmas plates. We don’t use regular plates for special occasions. Honestly, I thought you’d know better.”

The words sting and you set down the plates you have been holding in case the littlest twitch will make you drop it onto the floor, “Sorry, Mom.” 

“Ah well, now you’ll never forget it,” she jokes without humor in her voice as she opens the door to the china cabinet, pulling out the plates adorned with what you recognize to be hand-painted holly. You shamefully realize you know them from childhood Christmases and that they are exactly where they’ve always been. 

Automatically, you gather the wrong plates to make room for the right ones. It’s Christmas, you remind yourself as you do it. It is one day. You can survive one day. 

“See? Isn’t this much better?” She says cheerfully when your mistake has been corrected and while you nod, Javier reenters the house. 

He joins the two of you, carrying a large gift bag in one hand and holding Lucas on the other arm. You immediately go to take him, doing a careful transfer until you can lay his tiny body against your shoulder while supporting his bottom. 

“¿Todo bien? (Everything okay?)” Javier asks quietly when you follow him into the living room where the tree stands. He sets down the bag and tries to act casual, laying out the gifts and waiting for your honest response in the meantime. Apparently, you haven’t been as successful in hiding the distress on your face as you thought you had. 

You force a smile that doesn’t reach your eyes and Lucas starts whining again. You bounce him gently, “It’s nothing. Just… Christmas stuff.”

Javier glances toward the hallway to the kitchen where your parents’ voices can be heard faintly over the sounds of cooking. His jaw tightens slightly and his mouth becomes a thin line. 

“Don’t,” you say as firmly as you can muster because you wish he would, “It’ll only make it worse.”

“Dame un beso (give me a kiss),” he says instead, and you shyly lean in to peck him on the lips. Afterward, he pulls back but only after stroking Lucas’ back, “You’re both doing great, okay? Don’t let them get in your head.”

You are interrupted by your mother’s voice ringing out from the dining room, telling you that dinner is ready. Javier kisses you one last time before reassuring you that everything will be okay and that he is in your corner. You try to smile, tense as you take a seat with Lucas still in your arms. 

The Christmas meal begins with polite conversation, your father asking Javier about work and your mother telling you about neighbors that you haven’t spoken to in years. You mostly just speak when spoken to, having decided to focus on your baby as he keeps wriggling in your arms in discomfort. You try to rub his belly, try to make him settle by giving him your attention but still, his tiny face crumbles and he lets out a string of small complaints. 

“Maybe we could open presents while he naps?” You suggest hesitantly when your mother has given you enough judgemental advice, “He’s been so fussy all night, and I don’t want him to get more overwhelmed than he—”

“Oh, for heaven’s sake,” your mother says your name with a sigh. You hear Javier’s chair scrape against the floor, almost as if he is about to get up and get ready for a physical altercation.

“Let’s do whatever is easiest for the baby,” your father interrupts, placing a hand on your mother’s wrist. Her annoyance shines through her eyes but she nods with a smile nonetheless. 

“Of course,” you hear her grit out, “It’s just… We’d love to spend time with him. We’ve already missed so much, and Luke needs his grandparents.”

“We’ll see,” Javier answers for you. 

The dinner continues in mostly silence with turkey being substituted by pie, cutlery clinking against plates, and glasses being lifted and set down again. There’s tension so thick that it can be cut with a knife, your mother glancing at Lucas with a smile before it disappears from her face when she shifts her gaze to your direction.  

Mercilessly, she finally speaks, “So, honey, have you thought about when you’ll start losing the baby weight?”

“Mom!” You exclaim in shock, surprised that sound comes out when your throat feels like it is about to close up completely.

In the same manner as one would spit out a drink in shock, Javier’s fork scrapes unpleasantly against his plate, and suddenly, your mother’s name falls from his lips like the sound itself leaves him with a bad taste in his mouth. She looks startled by the interruption, almost like a deer in the headlights of a car, but it doesn’t faze your husband, “My wife looks beautiful and she has just given me - us - the greatest gift which is our son. Let’s not diminish that, shall we?”

You try to feel the weight of Lucas against your chest instead of how you don’t feel safe within this house, with its bruises on the walls and its ghosts of a youth spent walking on eggshells. Lucas’ body is warm, a reminder that this doesn’t matter. He matters. 

“I’m focused on taking care of my son right now, Mom,” you reply coolly with your lips resting on the soft hairs on Lucas’ head. 

“Right, of course. I didn’t mean anything by it,” your mother argues, clearly flustered, “You know how important it is to stay healthy for the baby.”

“Your mother just wants what’s best for you, honey,” your father intervenes, trying to steer the conversation onto friendlier and safer topics but she has already gotten up from her seat. 

“Why don’t I clear the table so we can move into the living room and open presents?” She mumbles, putting on a show by letting her voice waver. She has begun stacking plates before anyone can even say anything, practically fleeing the room and leaving you all looking slightly sheepish. Javier hides the roll of his eyes exceptionally well and he smiles when you catch him.

“I’ll put Lucas down for a nap,” you announce to what is left of the party.

Javier gets up alongside you to help you. He walks upstairs right behind you, a calming presence with the diaper bag in hand as you head for the guest room.

When you close the door behind the three of you, the tension seeps out of your body at having a quiet moment with your boys. The lighting in the room is soft and calming, almost making you want to lie down to nap with your son. 

“There we go,” you say as you gently place Lucas on the bed while Javier rummages through the bag for his pacifier. Lucas blinks up at you, his tiny fists balled and his chubby legs kicking excitedly. He lets out a happy gurgle.

“Oh, now you’re happy,” you tease softly and kneel by the bed to rub his tummy, “Picky with who we’re smiling at, are we?” 

Javier joins you by the bed and offers Lucas his pacifier. Your son stretches his arms and reaches for his father, letting out a high-pitched giggle around the pacifier. However, as he suckles gently, accompanied by your soft touch that has now moved to his chubby cheeks too, his eyelids start to grow heavy. 

When his breaths have slowed, you do whatever you can with the pillows to create a safe space for him to sleep. You create a barrier around him, ensuring as well as possible that he won’t roll over. 

“You know, you’d think that they would have set up a crib for him if they’re so desperate to see him,” you murmur bitterly as you adjust the last pillow.

“You sure you want to go back down there?” Javier asks carefully. 

“Can you grab the baby monitor?” You ignore his question at first but Javier is already handing you the monitor, ruining your attempt at not addressing the situation further. You sigh and get up from the floor, “I can get through it. If it’ll make them stop pestering me for a visit for a while.”

“I swear, one more word out of her mouth and I’ll open my own,” Javier says with anger simmering just beneath the surface. He drags you into his arms when you stand up again, hears your sigh of relief at being squeezed. It calms your nervous system so effectively that you slump. 

“Believe me, I feel like I am going insane,” you whisper into his neck and shoulder, grabbing aimlessly at his strong frame and inhaling his scent. He returns the desperate touch by simply rubbing your back in slow circles. 

“Yeah, I don’t know how you stay so calm,” he kisses your temple a few times. 

“Trust me, humans can endure a lot when they know there’s a time limit,” you chuckle humorlessly and pull away, “Let’s just do the gift exchange and leave.”

Downstairs, your parents are waiting for you by the tree. The collection of presents is sparse this year due to the short notice but you find it relieving to know that the gift exchange will be over quickly. 

Placing the baby monitor on the coffee table, you sit down on the sofa but don’t allow yourself to relax into it. Javier drops down beside you but leans back into his seat, his hand resting casually on your thigh to ground you. 

“Let’s get to the gifts. It’ll be nice to end this day on a happy note,” your mother says overly cheerfully, pretending to have forgiven and forgotten all about the situation earlier. She reaches for the first gift under the tree while your father stands ready with a bag for the wrapping paper. 

“That’s mine,” Javier tells her with a little smirk in your direction. He holds out his hand until she gives it to him, “To my beautiful wife. Merry Christmas, baby.”

“How thoughtful,” your mother mumbles and sits on the edge of her armchair. 

“Javi, I thought we weren’t on gifts this year,” you scold playfully but there’s no seriousness to your voice. You finally smile and this time it is genuine, feeling his gaze on you while you impatiently rip the wrapping. 

“I know what I said but I know you’ll love it. It’s more for Lucas anyway,” he informs you shyly. 

Inside, you find two pairs of identical fuzzy and comfortable socks with a dinosaur print on them. However, one pair fits Lucas’ tiny feet and the other fits yours. Your whole demeanor changes with the sight of your gift, your face lighting up with a bright smile, “These are so cute!”

“For your cold feet. Thought you could use something cozy while you take care of Luke at home,” he moves his hand to rest just above the small of your back, his palm smoothing over you on top of the fabric of your blouse. 

Your parents sit idly by. They stare at the gift with confusion and arrogance, clearly holding their tongue over how ridiculous they find it. Your mother picks at her fingers, “Interesting.”

“Interesting? Aren’t they adorable?” You hold the matching socks up happily, not sure what to expect but not even your mother’s judgmental expression can bring you down right now. To really rub it in, you kiss Javier’s mouth gently in front of them, “Gracias, esposo (Thank you, husband).”

But the happiness is short-lived as your father goes to get the next present from the small pile. He searches for a moment amongst the few there are, deliberately seeking out the present that you have brought them, most likely to be able to leave the room soon due to the obvious tension. He has never been one to intervene. 

“You shouldn’t have,” your mother tuts with a small smile as she carefully unwraps it in her lap, her fingers doing everything they can to not tear the paper so she can reuse it. 

When the framed picture of Lucas is revealed - a photo taken during an afternoon when he was particularly happy and smiling - her smile develops into a slightly wider one even if it looks against her will. She studies the picture with your father looking over her shoulder. 

“We thought you’d like something to remember him by,” you encourage her to say something. 

Your mother places the photo on the coffee table, her hands smoothing out the wrapping paper while she talks, “It’s lovely, sweetie. Though I’m sure we’d have more memories if we got to see him more often.”

You tense up beside Javier. Out of the corner of your eye, you see him do the same but he squeezes your hip to tell you that he is right there. Anxiously, you curl your fingers into your skirt but your mother isn’t finished.

“I just don’t understand why you’ve been so distant,” she continues, cold in her tone. “You hardly call, which would be fine but you visit even less than that, and now you’re letting Lucas sleep through his first Christmas. It’s not like you’ve gone back to work, so what is it?”

“Mom, please,” you say quietly but it doesn’t veil the wavering of your words, “I’m doing the best I can.”

“Are you?” She challenges, “Lucas has been fussing all night, hasn’t he? Maybe he’s picking up on your stress.”

You hear Javier say your mother’s name as he had during dinner, low and with warning. At the same moment, the baby monitor crackles with the sound of Lucas’ tiny complaints. The sound pulls you from your seat, your instincts to go to him overriding your desire to defend yourself from further abuse. However, your mother’s voice rings out behind you just as you take your first step.

She rolls her eyes, “Oh, just let him cry a little. You’ll make him clingy if you keep running to him every time he whimpers.”

You stop in your tracks, finally turning around to look her in the eye with your own eyes narrowed. You can see Javier watching you closely while you talk, “Mom, if he cries, he needs me.”

According to you, she has already gone too far but it seems that she cannot stop once she has started, “You know, you really should stop babying him so much. He needs to learn to self-soothe.”

Tears of frustration start to build in your chest and you can feel the muscles of your throat start to tighten as they rise to your eyes, “Jesus Christ, Mom, I’m not going to stop babying my baby.”

Her final blow comes out with a deliberate intention to hurt you, “There you go overthinking again and snapping at your mother. He is whimpering. Honestly, sometimes I wonder how Javier puts up with it. You can be such a bitch when you’re stressed.”

The room falls dead silent and the first tear escapes your eye at the cruel nickname… then a second and then a third until you start to cry silently and hopelessly. You suddenly feel like a teenager again, suffering from forced proximity. Your father opens his mouth but nothing comes out, seemingly not able to figure out how to defend his wife for once. It is the final straw for Javier.

“What did you just say?” He firmly cuts through the silence. He has gotten up from his seat and has stepped in front of you to shield you protectively from your mother’s line of sight. His nostrils flare with anger that might explode into rage at any moment but he keeps his voice steady, “You better not have said what I think you did or I am wondering why you haven’t apologized already.”

Your mother’s eyes widen at the idea of consequences. She splutters, caught off guard, “Apologize? Javier, don’t be ridiculous! I’m her mother—“

Javier laughs dangerously and condescendingly and looks away with a roll of his eyes. He shakes his head, not afraid to let the room know that he thinks she sounds pathetic without even calling her out on it. He crosses his arms over his chest, “You got a hell of a way of showing motherly love then; all you have done is tear her down today.”

“Javier,” your father tries to interject, “Let’s not make this into a scene.”

“No,” Javier turns to him, his jaw muscles flexing slightly underneath his skin with how much anger is flowing through him. The simple word makes your father sit up straighter than before - a testament to Javier’s days in Colombia - but Javier is not done, “You don’t get to lecture me about making a scene. Not after sitting there and letting this happen. She is your daughter.”

When your father has shut his mouth, looking uncomfortable by his defeat while he leans back into his seat with no intention to follow up on his words, Javier’s fury settles on your mother once more, “What’s your goal here, exactly?”

You’re aware that it isn’t just a simple few tears falling from your eyes anymore but rather a silent stream that has your face puffy and sensitive. It is accompanied by grief over your younger self not having had someone like Javier in her corner. You sniffle audibly, feeling as if you have been punched in the gut with how much it hurts and humiliates you to sit idly by. Your mother catches a glimpse of you behind your husband but it doesn’t seem to have any effect whatsoever. 

“There’s no secret agenda here, for God’s sake. I didn’t mean anything by it,” she sneers, trying to keep her demeanor straight despite the humiliation of getting called out being evident on her face. 

“Yes, you did,” Javier argues immediately and fiercely, pointing his index finger at her in an accusing manner, “You knew exactly what you were saying. You wanted her to hurt. Well congratulations, you’ve succeeded. Unfortunately, your daughter is a lot nicer than me and handled your words with a lot more grace than you deserve. I will not be doing the same thing.”

Your mother’s composure falters. She says your father’s name helplessly but he looks at her with tired eyes, full of quiet disappointment. Even if he is absent and passive like always, his refusal to intervene further is a sign that he would never go as far as his wife has just done. He shakes his head in disapproval, “Why’d you do it? We were having such a nice time too.”

She gapes at your father while his gaze drops to his lap, shrinking herself slightly at the realization that she is outnumbered and has to face your husband alone. Javier takes a step closer, radiating authority when she tries to avoid further confrontation, distaste so clear on his face for how he has lost her attention for a moment. When you let out a quiet sob, too paralyzed in your spot on the couch to go to your whimpering child, his face hardens further and he continues, “Listen to me.”

Your mother looks up reluctantly. She appears to be on the brink of an attempt to turn his words against him and argue right back once more, but Javier cuts her off before she can even start. 

“You don’t talk to her like that again. Ever. And you most certainly do not question her ability to be a mother. She is a perfect mother and God knows, she hasn’t gotten it from you. Lucas is a happy, healthy, and thriving baby because of her,” he takes a breath, and for a second, it seems like he might be done but then, “You hurt my girl, you understand that? And if you ever speak to her like that again - actually if you even speak about her like that again -  I will personally make sure you don’t get to have Lucas in your life.”

“Are you threatening us?” Her composure slips even more. 

“No, ma’am, I am instructing you,” he replies coldly, “If you can’t respect his mother, we’re done here.”

Javier turns to you now, his face softening immediately at the sight of you sitting teary-eyed on the couch with your hands clutching the baby monitor. He says your name so softly, a sound that has always felt like an unfamiliar and unwelcome sound within this house, and gently pulls the piece of technology out of your hands. 

“Listen to me, baby. Go wait in the car. I’ll get Lucas and his things,” he instructs you, placing the baby monitor on the coffee table behind him without looking away from you. He helps you to stand when you find yourself nodding. 

When you’re up from your seat, he puts a hand on the small of your back to guide you towards the door. He doesn’t say anything, doesn’t let you linger in the room. 

“You don’t have to leave,” your mother protests with obvious surprise that you and Javier are carrying out the promise of consequences. She begins pushing herself to stand. 

“Sit down, I will not let you disturb any of the peace she has left,” he commands harshly when she tries to take a step toward you. 

Your mother falters, stunned by his audacity, and sinks back into her seat.

The moment you’re out of the front door, your legs start shaking so badly beneath you that you aren’t sure if you’ll even make it to the car. The walk feels endless, like climbing a mountain, the neighborhood surrounding your childhood home quiet because everyone is inside with the happy family that you never got to have growing up. 

Until now. You have it now. However, you have left them to fend for themselves on the battlefield to slide into the front seat of the car. You rub your chest as it feels tight but it soothes nothing and suddenly, the tears come harder than they had in the living room. You rest your head against the glass window, screwing your eyes shut and feeling drips of hot tears on your cheeks.

Memories come flooding and you have no power to stop them, pictures of many nights spent in solitude in your room because it was the only illusion of sanctuary in the house before you. The sound of your mother’s scoffs, her unbearable ability to make you feel small, inadequate, and unwanted. Her year-long cruelty feels like a knife in your chest but your father’s silent complicity twists its blade too, makes you think that you were never worthy of defending. 

Yet Javier had done it so effortlessly, had done what you’d wished someone would have done for you in your entire life, and he had done it without any hesitation. You are shattered by another night believing the worst about yourself, yes, but you realize that a part of your sobs comes from relief too. Suddenly, it all feels silly and you don’t know why you have always stopped Javier from speaking up for you since you met because his words - she is a perfect mother - have taken the power out of your mother’s incredibly fast. 

You hear the front door open and a shaky sob leaves you at seeing the two of your boys approach the car. Javier has the diaper bag over his shoulder whilst cradling Lucas against his chest, his face serious. He moves in long strides to get to you fast, not saying anything as he buckles Lucas’ sleeping form into his car seat before climbing into his own seat in the front. 

You sit up again, eyes still brimming with tears that streak your face. You feel overwhelmed like you have run a marathon or fought a bear or a monster. 

Javier puts on his seatbelt but doesn’t put the key in the ignition yet. He looks out of the windshield for a moment, breathes a sigh of relief. The car is quiet except for Lucas’ soft breaths as he sleeps.

Right until Javier says your name when you don’t automatically turn your head to look at him, ashamed of how the day has progressed. It is Christmas, after all, and Lucas’ first one ever too. 

“Mírame (Look at me),” he says in a gentle murmur. 

You shake your head, unable to answer with how tightly wound you are. You feel his hand under your chin, carefully pulling you by your chin until your eyes meet his. His outline is blurry from all the tears but his voice cuts through the fog in gentle firmness. 

“I love you so much, and I love our son, okay?” He says it like it is a promise, “They aren't ever gonna to talk to you like that again because I won't allow them to. Do you understand me?”

You silently look at him through your tears, nodding weakly. He reaches to brush your tears away with a knuckle. 

“Everything’s gonna be okay because you don’t have to see them if you don’t want to. You just have to let me take care of you,” he continues and cups your cheek instead, “And right now, I say you’re done with them for tonight. Actually, for as long as you fucking want.”

“I want… I don’t…” You say at first but then, “I’m sorry.”

Javier furrows his brows, “Why are you sorry?” 

“Because that’s my mom,” you try to speak around a fresh sob, “And you married me and I trapped you with my fucked up family.”

“Hey, heyheyhey,” he shakes his head, moving his other hand to cup your whole face now. He leans over the console of the car and rests his forehead against yours. When you simply cry harder, he pulls you into a hug, “You didn’t trap me, okay? You didn’t. I’m here because you make me happy. You make me so happy, baby, and Hell knows, I needed a bit of taking care of when you met me. Let me return the favor.”

His body is warm, soothing, and grounding. His embrace squeezes you hard enough to make you calm down, giving you a moment of quiet peace in your mind as you begin to take in his words. You feel the same. You want to say it but you’re afraid that you’ll never stop crying tonight, so instead you find the courage to say those words that you should have told yourself years ago, “I don’t think I want to go back.”

“What do you want to do then?” Javier pulls back to look at you. He moves back into his own seat again and starts the car to give you time to think clearly about his question. 

“Can we go to your dad’s?” You ask hesitantly. 

Javier’s brows rise slightly but he doesn’t argue, just nods as he puts the car in reverse. Before reversing out of the driveway, he pulls you in to kiss your forehead softly. 

“Claro, mi amor (Sure, my love),” he says simply, “He’d love to see us.”

.

.

If you would like to follow my writing then go follow @notjustjavierpena-fics and turn on notifications 💖❤️

[ellecdc]

pause to breathe

combination of two anon prompts: yapper reader who seeks out any of the boys and starts talking and then wonders if they find her terribly annoying and she thinks they must hate her combined with part two for Regulus x yapper!reader with the mooncalves

Regulus Black x fem!reader who updates him on the mooncalves [681 words]

p1 | p2

CW: yapper reader, longwinded speech and spiralling thoughts, run-on sentences, reader feels embarrassed

Pandora and Barty were currently busy procuring ingredients to brew truth potions for tonight’s veritaserum-or-dare, which meant that Regulus, Evan, and Dorcas were enjoying a rare quiet moment in the library. 

“All I’m saying is that out of all the poltergeists I’ve summoned, Peeves really is the least of our worries.” Evan mentioned boredly, earning him a snort of laughter from Dorcas.

“Remember Mammon?” She asked in a hushed tone.

“How could we forget?” Regulus responded. “He had first years strung up by their feet from the ceiling trying to get the galleons to fall out of their pockets.” 

“I’m so glad Barty knows how to obliviate; that would have been a nightmare.”

“We would have been expelled.” Dorcas pressed with a laugh, Evan simply nodded at her.

“Like I said, a nightmare.”

Regulus was saved from having to reply when he heard his name being called, albeit softly - this was the library, afterall.

“Regulus! Regulus, Regulus, Regulus.” You chanted your whole way over before sitting down heavily on the bench beside Regulus, breathless and nearly blowing the parchment right off the table from the speed at which you approached.

“It worked! The beast treats from Brood & Peck worked!”

It took Regulus’ brain a few moments to work out what it was that you were talking about when he remembered his trip to Brood & Peck last week. He wondered then if he should ask you how it went, but you carried on before he could.

“I’m sure that maybe, perhaps, the apples were a help, seeing as they’ve grown somewhat accustomed to my presence. But they came right up to me last night! I even got to scritch the space between one’s eyes! Have you ever pet a mooncalf, Regulus? They’re way softer than they look. It’s almost like a cat except the fur is a touch longer and silkier. Have you ever pet a bunny? Sort of like a bunny, but with thinner and longer hair…like a long-and-thin haired bunny. Oh! And! Last night among the mooncalves was one tiny kitten! Real little, too. I wonder if he got separated from his mama when I was feeding them tuna a few nights ago? None of the other cats were there again last night, just the little bubs. But it seems as though the mooncalves have adopted him! Oh, it was so cute! One was even grooming him! But I was so busy being excited about finally petting them and getting them to approach me that I forgot to take pictures. Maybe I can get pictures tonight? Hopefully the kitten is still there. Well, I guess it would actually be better if the kitten was with its mum, yeah? Maybe just one more night, just so I can get a picture, then hopefully he finds his mum again.” 

You paused, likely to breathe, and seemed only then to register the fact that Regulus hadn’t been sitting at this table alone.

“Oh.” You murmured quietly, moving your horrified gaze from Evan and Dorcas towards Regulus beside you, another “oh” escaping you when you seemed to realise how long you just spent shouting about mooncalves to Regulus Black in front of his friends. 

“Oh my gods.” You nearly whispered. “I’m so sorry. Merlin, this is so embarrassing; I am so embarrassing. I’m so sorry!” 

Nearly as quick as you came did you stand and leave, fleeing from the library without even sparing a backwards glance at your potions partner. 

“I’d be worried she doesn’t get enough air to her head. Merlin.” Evan commented as he finally turned back towards the table from where he’d been watching you leave. “Do you think her brain works that quickly when she reads? She must finish books so fast.” 

Regulus simply smiled to himself as he packed up his notes and books. 

“I’ll catch up with you later, alright?”

“Yeah, yeah. Whatever you say, Black.” Dorcas drawled teasingly as Regulus shouldered his book bag and exited the library, venturing off in the direction you had just moments before in hopes of finding out more about last night’s mooncalves and their little kitten friend.

[4701rose]

Gloridriana smiles beatifically as she spun the tiny blood-red orbs that were her signature opening before dropping a meteor shower on whatever fool was trying to ruin her day today. “Any last words, oh noble hero?” She purred. Her white cat ears flicked backwards with excitement. Her chin to knee length robe was dyed sky blue and impeccable. Not a speck of blood had been allowed to touch her while she torched my party. 

I looked around at what was left of our party. The white mage had been the first to collapse. Gloridriana had targeted her specifically. It’s just the way things are done, she’d said with that smug smile coloring her voice. The archer was down, too, and so was our hulking walking wall of muscle. That just left me, the damage dealer. I should’ve been put down first, but here I was, surrounded by people I loved, watching Gloriadriana yawn theatrically like the best we’d been able to throw at her had been, at best, boring. 

There was a shield buckler strapped to my arm and a shortsword in my hand. I threw them both down on the ground. Gloridriana paused as I spread my arms out wide. “Do your worst, Gloriadriana,” I said. My toothy smile had blood in it. “It’s already been the week from hell and then some.” 

I closed my eyes, expecting to feel her flames kiss my skin, burning me up into nothing but ash, gone with the wind. I waited. And waited. And waited. Finally, I popped one eye open to stare at Gloridriana, wondering what the hold-up was. This is supposed to be over already, I thought. 

I thought about dishes undone in my sink and my ex-girlfriend leaving me because she ‘found someone better, more stable’, how my cat was sick but I didn’t have the money to pay for her medicine, how I hadn’t paid my rent in three months and the landlandy was getting pretty short with me and – 

This was supposed to be an easy job. 

No such luck, I thought to myself. Then, unbidden, No rest for the wicked. I don’t even know where the thought came from, but it felt true. It felt like pressing on a bruise, just to hurt for a while, to make my problems seem less immediate and smaller in comparison to the pain. 

Gloridriana was staring at me. There was a troubled look in her fool’s gold green eyes. The lines around her mouth were drawn tight, like the ropes on a ship. The longer I stood there, staring at her, her looking at me like a cat that shat on the carpet, the more tired my arms got. I let them drop. 

“What? Are your words empty?” I asked her. 

“No,” Gloridriana said as she floated down to my eye level. “I just… wasn’t expecting that response.” She was quiet for a moment, her shrewd eyes scanning me up and down. I guess she didn’t like what she saw, because her eyes narrowed and her frown deepened. “Walk with me,” she told, more like ordered, me as she shifted in mid-air and began to float away from the road running through the forest, more towards her cottage in the distance. 

I looked around at the fallen bodies around me. I knew they’d be fine – the guild had a very skilled necromancer on staff for this very reason – but it felt weird to leave here. What if something happens to them while I’m not here? 

When I looked up, Gloridriana was staring at me like I’d done something else unexpected. “What.” I said, out of patience. That was the trouble with wizards, they knew all sorts of things, and never expected you not to make the same immediate jumps in logic they could. So they shared nothing at all, leaving you feeling more broken than you did before. 

Gloridriana shook her head. “Nothing,” she said. “Follow me.” 

I sighed, but it wasn’t exactly like I had anything better to be doing. The client was long gone, and with him, my paycheck, too. 

“Sure.” 

I followed along in silence as Gloridriana floated above the muck and the toads and the pristine white water lilies. She’d made her home in the swamp. The forest path my party and I had been planning to take had bordered the swamp, but nobody thought anything of it. “It’s been so long,” I can remember one of my party members saying, “Surely she’s dead by now?” Joke’s on them. Gloridriana could still cow the king into giving up his daughter if need be. Even if his daughter is pushing forty at this point. 

I sloughed through the muck and the mud, swatted mosquitoes, and eyed Gloriadriana’s back. I had no idea what she needed me for. Maybe she was making a potion that needed fresh human blood? What would I know of such things? I’m just a swordsman, plain and simple. 

Gloridriana’s welcoming mat was pretty cool. As soon as I set foot on it, it clicked its tongue at me and said, “We can’t have that inside the house,” and then, boom, no more mess! I’m pretty sure my clothes haven’t been this clean since before, well. Since before Yuri left, at least. 

“Make yourself comfortable,” Gloridriana instructed as she floated off towards a closed door. “I need to make a call, won’t be a moment.” 

I looked around at her hut. There was a cauldron bubbling over the fireplace. It smelled a lot more like mutton stew than like human remains. Carefully, I stepped across the room to the chair by the fire. I warmed my hands over the flames, let the heat sink into my bones. My shoulders slumped. 

I wonder how much money I can make, selling the location of Gloridriana’s new place, I thought to myself in an absent kind of way. I was looking at the rafters, then, looking at the tidy bundles of dried lavender and sage, ropes of garlic and chilis. It was surprisingly mundane. I had this image in my head of Gloridriana braiding bulbs of garlic by their hair and it was enough to make me question every minute that gotten me to this point. 

Am I awake or asleep, I asked myself. I pinched my neck to be sure. Nope. Unfortunately, still awake. Still living the dream life. 

Gloridriana bustled back in before I had to really ruminate, her sky-blue robes swapped out for something more homely. She took out a potholder and used it to swing a cast-iron teapot off of the flames. She poured me a cup of tea, chamomile by the scent of it, then found a place to perch with her own cup of tea nestled between her two hands. 

“Now, dearie, I insist you tell me everything,” Gloridriana told me, her voice softer than I had ever heard it, “What led you to this point?” 

At first, I didn’t even know what to say. No one just kinda asks that, y’know? Point-blank. I’ve had a lot of people give me side-eye, but this is the first time someone asked. I must’ve looked worse than I thought. 

I told her. I told her everything. At some point we went from sitting on the opposite ends of the room to me having my face nestled in her lap as she stroked my back and made these little soothing noises that just made me cry harder. It had been a busy week. I hadn’t taken the time to process it. By the time I was done, all dried up of tears, my face bright red because sweet Merlin did I really just do that, Gloridriana told me that she has someone she thinks I would like to talk to, and she’d set something up for next week and it was all arranged, so don’t go saying no now. 

I’d never been happier to fail at my job. 

When the villain demanded that you submit or be destroyed you just apathetically shrugged and braced yourself for death. You were surprised when the villain did not kill you and instead offered you a nice, comfortable room and an appointment with their personal therapist.

[yutarot]

ride or die. l.jn smau

017 — when it comes to you.

JENO POV

in all honesty, jeno has no idea what he was going to say when he finally met face to face with jaemin. this past week he has been going over and over it in his head, each and every detail, but nothing at all makes sense. why would jaemin, his longest and closest friend, openly admit to doing something like that. jeno didn’t know whether to be angry or confused, or maybe even a little bit of both. but all he knew was that he needed to speak to him. not just for his own piece of mind, but jaemins too. there was something he needs to know too, and it’s been killing jeno that he can’t speak to his closest friend.

especially when it comes to this. especially when it comes to you.

as he sits in the apartment lobby, staring mindlessly down at his shoes, jeno can do nothing but anticipate the feeling of his gut twisting when he sees jaemin come out of the elevator. and god how it flips in his chest when he finally sees him standing there, an apologetic smile on his face.

but jeno doesn’t know why jaemin could possibly be sorry.

“hi.” jaemin says.

jeno stands. “hi.”

he can’t think of what to say, what to do. so he just lets jaemin lead the conversation.

“how are you?” jaemin asks, knowing the answer.

“been better.”

jaemin sighs, guilt ruining him.

he gets straight to it, almost pleading with him. “i wanted to tell you.” he pauses, “i wanted to tell you everything. but if i missed my opportunity…”

“opportunity?” jeno’s eyes squint in confusion. “what opportunity?”

“to tell her i like her.”

jeno freezes, every inch of his body tensing. he didn’t know what to expect from jaemin, but it definitely wasn’t this. but and as the next words leave his mouth, it all makes sense.

every piece of the puzzle that jeno has been trying to decipher finally falls into place.

“it wasn’t me who leaked your identity, jeno.”

of course it wasn’t.

the air between them thickens, becomes a fog that neither of them can see through.

jaemin continues. “i just-“

jeno can’t help it, he speaks his mind, finishing what jaemin wants to say. he knows him too well. “you just wanted her, and you thought a big act like that would make her fall for you?” jeno says, placing the final piece in its correct place. amongst all of this, all the lying, all the betrayal, it had been all because of a simple sentance.

‘you really like me that much that you wanted to ruin jeno’s career?’

that’s what you had said to chenle in that tweet where you had confronted him when you thought he was the real culprit, that’s what jaemin had foolishly misread. he thought you said it out of surprise, out of adoration. not out of disgust. he hadn’t even made it to the end of the tweet before he had made up his mind, before he decided he was going to falsely admit it was him.

“yeah… it didn’t take me long before i realised i had misread it..” jaemin laughs nervously, closer to wanting to cry than he’s ever seemed. jeno doesn’t blame him, he’s been watching him closely, every comment made from the group hurting him just as much as it had hurt jaemin.

“you’re an idiot.” jeno says. he wants to punch him, make him pay for all the worrying he had made him do, all the hours lying on his friend jungwoo’s sofa, scared about going back to his dorm, scared about going to his dads. but jaemin wasn’t the one who exposed him.

although jeno knew that all along.

“i know i am.” jaemin laughs, “but can you blame me.”

weirdly, jeno can’t. it’s you. he’s seen the way you laugh, he’s seen the way you stuck up for him despite being unsure of why. and something deep in his chest aches at the way jaemin talks about you like he shouldn’t understand. but jeno does, he understands it the most. and he hates himself for it.

because that’s what he did all this for.

he did it for you.

“jaemin.”

jaemins laugher pauses when he notices the tone of jeno’s words. he’s being serious.

“yeah?” he asks.

“there’s something i need to tell you.”

jaemins head tilts. “what is it?”

jeno takes a deep breath, deciding that if he doesn’t tell jaemin now, he fears he never will. and despite jaemins feelings, he doesn’t have a choice. he looks at him, really looks at him, searching for an ounce of uncertainty and finding way too much of it. but he has to do this, it all had to have been worth it. all of it.

so he says it.

“i know who leaked my secret.”

previous : mlist : next

notes; 😆

taglist — open! @jenohyun @jirsungs @do-you-remember-summer-127 @ddolbyong @stqrgr7 @thatsatricky1 @sunghoonsgfreal @nattan127 @ssweetreveries @flamingi @chenlesfavorite @peterm4rker @snoopyjimin @akunoeyebrows @junviadinho @slayhaechan @f6llsun @multifandomania @cookiehaos @catecita @mrsjohnnysuh @luv4jeno @hyuckies18 @dreamiestay @tangerinelovelees @jjaegyeom @https-yeonjun @nanaxwi @yukisroom97 @nosungluv @mrkleelvr @neocrashed @jaedgemental @apolloxxivmin @kyubing @catdonut657 @dudekiss3r @juyeonshour @hamjwis @antifrggile @mmjhh1998 @thegracerammy @jenocity23 @honeynanamin @bluedbliss @lampcults @yyangj3lly

[manonssunset]

"UNWRAP ME"

pairing: huh yunjin x fem!reader

synopsys: yunjin mentioned she has a special christmas surprise waiting for you. when you arrived at home, you were surprised to find out that the special gift was her, seated beneath the christmas tree, ready for you to "unwrap" her.

warnings/tags: language, smut, nsfw content under the cut, established relationship, service top!reader, yunjin is the one giving commands, lingerie, dry humping (thigh riding)

wc: +3,4k

a/n: happy new year, guys! this is my special (super late) gift for you all, also first time posting something like this on the blog. I hope you find it hot, lol. this took me longer than expected, but I’m satisfied with the way it turned out. I reduced the smut part substantially because, honestly, you would have had to wait another 10 days to read it, bye 💀. but I still wrote almost 600 words of just them kissing, so there's that.

working through christmas was always quiet and a bit annoying, with clients constantly bragging about their exotic holiday plans or the luxurious gifts they were preparing to buy. but the truth was, you had no reason to feel envious. after all, you had the most priceless gift of all: yunjin, the kind of girl most could only wish for. 

the sharp ding of your phone’s notification pulled you out of your thoughts. it was a sudden interruption, cutting through the steady rhythm of clicking fingers on keyboards, sounds that were all too familiar in the office. you glanced at the screen, expecting to see an email or maybe a quick reminder from a colleague. instead, your gaze fell on a message from your girlfriend. she often checked in on you while you worked, and you always found it endearing. 

this time, however, the message wasn’t the usual question about how work was going or a casual mention of what she was making for dinner. no, this one felt entirely different.

[jen 💋]: your special gift is waiting for you under the tree, please get home as soon as you can ;) 

[you]: 10 minutes and I'm out

the message felt playful, almost teasing, and you were thrilled at the thought of what awaited you at home. she had mentioned before that she had something special prepared just for you, a gift that, in her words, you were going to absolutely love, said in that sensual tone of hers that always left your head spinning. to say you were eager to find out what she meant was an understatement.

-♧-

your hand trembled slightly as you gripped the keys to your shared apartment, anticipation rising with every turn of the metal. when the door finally clicked open, the soothing scent of vanilla and wood greeted you, wrapping around you like a warm embrace. as you stepped inside, you were immediately struck by an unexpected darkness in the room, the only light coming from the flickering glow of candles scattered around the space.

the silence was unnerving, an absence that made you pause. the only sound was the occasional crackle of the candles, yet it felt like something, or someone, was missing. yunjin’s presence, which you had so eagerly anticipated, wasn’t there to greet you as you had expected. she had promised to show you the long-awaited gift she’d been teasing you about all week, and yet, there was no sign of her.

your gaze instinctively shifted to the bottom of the christmas tree, and for a moment, you froze. your heart skipped a beat, and it took a second for your mind to catch up with what your eyes were seeing. she was there, wearing a black silk robe, held together with a red rope tied into a bow, like some kind of living present waiting just for you. the light from the candles reflected off the fabric, giving her an almost ethereal glow. she lay on the carpet, looking up at you with an inviting, seductive gaze.

your breath caught up in your throat, and for a brief second, you weren't sure if you should move closer or stay rooted in place. you gulped as you stood still, speechless, completely captivated by the sight before you. “you're finally home, I've been waiting for you” you felt your knees weaken at the tone of her voice, filled with control and sensuality. you couldn’t form a response, too overwhelmed by the intensity of the moment to be able to articulate anything.

she rose with grace, and, as she closed the distance between you two, each of her steps were accompanied by heels tapping against the floor. It was as though a muse was walking towards you, her hips swaying from side to side with an elegant, almost hypnotic confidence. your heartbeat quickened as she got closer, and instinctively, you started taking steps back, your senses heightened, your mind a mix of conflicting emotions. part of you wanted to ask what was happening, but another part was curious to see where this moment would lead.

the back of your legs collided with the couch, and you suddenly felt cornered, with nowhere to go, no escape from her approaching presence. a sly smirk tugged at her lips as she closed the distance, gently pushing you to sit down. the coldness of the cushions on your skin contrasted sharply with the warmth spreading inside you. your gazes locked, and in that instant, the desire in her eyes was so intense it felt almost magnetic, drawing you in, making you want to lose yourself in her and everything she embodied.

she positioned herself comfortably on your lap, her movements slow, milky legs peeking out from beneath the robe. it was then that you noticed the meticulous attention she had paid to her makeup, each detail enhancing her beauty. she had even chosen your favorite perfume, a sweet vanilla scent that perfectly complemented the fragrance of the candles. it was clear now that she had carefully orchestrated this moment, aiming to give you a show that you were bound to enjoy.

the sudden closeness caused heat to flood your face. the slight pressure of her body pressed against yours sent your mind into overdrive. you could feel every subtle shift of her weight, making it hard to focus on anything else that wasn’t her. your hand instinctively went to her thighs, gently massaging the soft skin that radiated warmth under your fingertips. she gently traced her fingers up your arms, the light touch sending a wave of goosebumps across your skin, before placing them on top of your shoulders. 

you stilled as her face inched closer, her lips just centimetres from your ear. in this proximity, the intoxicating scent of her perfume magnified tenfold, its sweetness filling your senses and clouding your thoughts. her breath was warm against your skin as she whispered “unwrap me”, her voice drenched in the same seductive tone that never failed to unsettle and allure you in. she noticed the subtle tension in your body after her words, the air thickened, growing more charged than before. your hands slowly made their way to the ribbon, fingertips grazing the soft fabric, before you finally gripped its ends. 

you trembled as you undid the knot, the cool, soft fabric of the ribbon slipping smoothly beneath your fingers. the knot was simple but each movement felt agonizingly slow, as though time itself was stretching, drawn out by the weight of her gaze. her eyes, full of expectation, never left you, and the intensity of her look made your breath catch in your throat.

you held your breath as the ribbon finally loosened, your heartbeat thudding loudly in your ears. all the anticipation that had built from the moment she’d sent that text was unraveling now, piece by piece, and you couldn’t help but feel the tension hang in the air.

your eyes followed the path of her robe as it fell open, slipping off her shoulder to reveal what she had kept hidden until now. you couldn't help it when a gasp escaped your lips as you finally took in the sight before you: yunjin, all dolled up for you, wearing nothing more than a red lace set of lingerie. it accentuated her curves in a way that left your jaw slightly open, yet her elegance remained unmistakable. her set was far from tacky or overly explicit, it clung to her body with a sensuality that balanced provocativeness and sophistication. it revealed just enough, embracing her shape while maintaining a sense of grace and modesty. 

the warm, golden hues of the room bathed her exposed skin, creating a soft, radiant glow. she resembled a living version of venus, as if she had stepped out of a renaissance painting, one that belonged in a museum. arousal swept through you as a tingling sensation began to rise. the tightness that had formed in your stomach spread lower, a pulsing ache that clouded your mind with lust. it was clear that the feeling was mutual. the intensity of her gaze and the way her eyes locked with yours was a telltale sign that she was consumed too by the same need. her restless shifting, searching for the friction she desperately craved, also spoke volume.

she broke the silence with a question, her voice quieter, tinged with an unexpected hint of uncertainty. “do you like it?” despite your obvious reaction, she still sought confirmation, her usual confidence momentarily slipping. “jen, I don't think you understand how much I love it,” you said, almost baffled by her question. it wasn’t just about the lingerie, although it was stunning, it was everything she had done for this moment, all the care and effort she had put into it, just for you. and above all, it was her, the most important person for you. “thank you, baby,” she replied, her seductive tone returning as she cupped your face with both hands and leaned closer. “now, let’s get to the good part.”

her lips crashed against yours with urgency, the relentlessness evident in the way she yanked you closer, her fingers gripping the back of your head, anchoring themselves in your hair. the contact was frantic, as if she couldn't get enough of you. she tilted her head slightly to the side, deepening the kiss as you let your hands roam her body freely, your fingers caressing her skin before resting on her waist. there was a raw desperation in the way she kissed you, as if she was trying to devour you; her longing for you was unmistakable, like she could no longer keep it contained.

the way her lips moved with yours was soothing, the warmth of her skin sinking deep into you, making everything else fade away. your bodies were so close, it was almost as if you were breathing each other in, each subtle movement heightening the feeling of intimacy. the kiss was the physical manifestation of the desire you had both been hiding, the need to feel every part of each other becoming almost overwhelming. it wasn't anymore just about meeting lips, it was about being intertwined, your bodies pressing against each other in perfect harmony. 

you both pulled away briefly, her breath was ragged and shallow, a soft whimper escaping her as you squeezed the flesh of her ass. you both lingered there, a brief pause from the intensity of the session, both of your lips slightly parted as you caught your breath, chest rising and falling in sync. her pupils were dilated, a hint of something in her eyes, an unspoken impulse that was being held back, waiting to be released. you heard her mumble a quiet “fuck it” and before you could even register her words, she tugged you forward by the collar of your shirt, your lips making contact again. 

her tongue ran gently over your lips, applying pressure as a silent invitation to enter. you granted her request, allowing her muscle to invade your mouth, lightly sucking on it. she let out a surprised gasp at the sensation, her fingers tightly gripping the fabric of your button up shirt. as you massaged your tongues together in a gentle but intense dance, teeth clicking and saliva exchanging, your hands returned around her waist, pressing into the softness of her skin. you carefully bit her bottom lip, drawing it between yours as you continued sucking. it was all too much for her, the sensation was overwhelming, and her control slowly slipped away.

she began grinding on your lap as you were still kissing, her body moving effortlessly as she chased her own pleasure. you guided her hips and pressed her down further more, and she let out little, desperate gasps every time your lips parted to allow oxygen in. you couldn't lie and say that yunjin using you as a way to get off didn't turn you on, the sensation was electrifying, and you felt your own desire seep through your panties, soaking them. 

“mmph–ahh, jesus—” her sweet moans were muffled by your lips, creating a delicious symphony that reverberated in the confines of your mouth, sending shivers down your spine. the rough fabric of your work pants against her thin panties generated the ideal friction on her clit, making her mind go fuzzy. her hands roamed aimlessly, grasping and gripping whatever lay within reach: the fabric of your shirt, your arms, the back of your neck, your hair, and so on. she was riding your thigh so desperately it was almost cinematic: erratically moving her hips, grinding down, attempting to rub every time on the same perfect spot that gave her immense pleasure.

the room was starting to feel too hot for you. the heat from the candles, but especially from the union of your two bodies so close together, was becoming unbearable, so you decided to break the kiss to remove some of your clothing. after you delicately pushed yunjin back, allowing her body to rest on your legs, your eyes widened in surprise at the sight before you. it was beautiful; a clear, glassy strand of saliva was still connecting the two of you, a quiet reminder of your closeness. she was about to whine at the loss of contact when she also realized what she was seeing, and a small genuine smile tugged at her lips. 

you took advantage of the quiet moment to finally contemplate your girlfriend’s physical state: her face had a subtle pink flush that still peeped through even under her makeup, her lips were a strong red color that matched her lingerie, and they were quite swollen, an evident consequence of the kissing. her eyes were like a window to the multitude of emotions that pervaded her: delight, confidence, a bit of frustration, and, above all, desire. as your gaze moved lower down her body, you spotted a wet patch on her underwear; the fabric turned a much darker shade of red, and you wanted nothing more than to get a taste of the source of that change.

she noticed your intense stare and turned her head, flustered. “stop staring at me like that,” she said softly, her voice pulling you out of your trance as you felt her left hand brush over the skin of your face, settling on your jaw. in that moment, all your focus was on her. “no, but seriously,” she started, her tone firm like she needed you to be serious with her. “why did you stop?” her question was accompanied by a tiny pout, which made you smile, her frustration evident in her puppy-like features. you let out a slight chuckle in response, placing your hand over hers as a sign of reassurance. 

“I was honestly just too hot and wanted to take my shirt off,” you truthfully replied with a grin, finding the simplicity of your answer pretty amusing. as the words left your mouth, her pout melted away into a smile, mirroring yours. underlying her happiness though, she felt a tingling sensation begin to rise, a silent excitement at seeing you without your shirt. “do that then,” you caught her need by the urgency of her command and by the way she looked at you, as if she had already taken your shirt off with her eyes. you were more than happy to comply, gradually undoing all of your buttons just to tease her.

her whole demeanor was full of anticipation, she had folded her hands diligently on her lap while she watched you do your thing. as you slowly stripped for her, dragging out all of your movements since you knew it would turn her on more, she spotted your sculpted abs and your muscular arms, finally free of your shirt. the sight hit her all at once, causing her thighs to impulsively clench around yours and her hips to buck into the air.

heat flooded her face as she blushed in embarrassment, her reaction an obvious indication of her neediness; her head dropped into the crook of your now fully exposed neck, as if she was trying to hide from you. she took advantage of the closeness to inhale the scent your body. it was a mix of the aquatic and musky fragrance you used at work, one she could never resist whenever you wore it, mingled with the natural, comforting aroma of your skin. this mixture was fatal for yunjin, the scent did unspeakable things to her, her already soaked panties now starting to leave a wet spot on your own pants, and she was growing more desperate with each second that passed.

you were quick to detect it, knowing exactly what she was craving for in that moment, taking the lead for the first time that night. “come on, ride my thigh,” you ordered as you patted your right leg, knowing that having just one of your thighs between her legs would cause her far more friction than simply rocking into your lap. the sudden switch in your tone of voice went straight to yunjin's core as more of her fluids gushed out. she weakly nodded and stood on her trembling knees, holding onto your bare shoulders and submissively following your order. you gripped her waist to keep her stable as she moved over to your thigh, carefully positioning herself. 

“fuck!” she exclaimed when you suddenly pulled her down onto your leg with force, the unexpected contact with her sensitive clit causing her to gasp loudly in response. her face contorted with pleasure as she began riding your thigh, her hips moving like waves, crashing and withdrawing in a rhythmic pattern. “oh–oh my god,” she moaned beautifully, letting out melodic sounds with each movement of her hips. “this feels so good,” the pleasure she was experiencing led her eyes to close tightly and her mouth to open. 

“good girl, keep moving,” you purred into her ear as your hands dragged her back and forth. her brain short-circuited at the name you gave her: she squirmed on top of you, her hips stuttering as a familiar sensation started to build inside her. she mewled in response; the commanding, dominant yunjin who had left you flustered just minutes ago was now a moaning mess under your touch. “ah— god” she threw her head back as she felt your thigh twitch and stiffen beneath her, providing the perfect solidity against her clit. 

as she continued to hump, your hands left her waist and slowly worked their way up to her chest, not without lightly scratching her skin, causing a burning sensation to spread beneath the surface. you began massaging and caressing her tits over her bra, lazily rubbing circles with your thumbs across the fabric. just the light pressure was enough for her to feel pleasure as more lewd sounds left her mouth. so it came as no surprise that, when you exposed her nipples and pinched them with your fingers, she let out a guttural scream. “fu-fuck–please, keep— ahh— keep doing that,” she begged as you twisted and pulled her sensitive buds.

her insides started to burn, a tight knot in her low abdomen indicated that her orgasm was near. “are you close?” you asked as you noticed her movements become sloppier and her moans rising in pitch. “y-yes, I— please— please let me come.” her voice trembled as she pleaded for your permission. as much as you wanted to tease her, to push her just a little further, you couldn’t resist and granted her request. “go ahead baby,” the moment you were done speaking you felt her body still in your hands, her back arched and her head thrown back. her vision faded to black as she reached her climax, a wave of pleasure washing over her as she cried out a mixture of curse words and little “thank you”s.

she collapsed into your arms, her body was now a limp weight pressed against your chest. her head nestled against your neck, her eyes closed as she focused on regaining the stable rhythm of her breath. you gently stroked her hair as a comfortable silence enveloped the two of you, the only sounds being the soft crackle of the candles and her breathing. the warmth of her body pressed against yours was like a gentle caress, a comforting embrace that made you melt into your seat. “can we stay like this for a bit?” she asked softly, her voice hoarse from all the moaning, and her arms tightened around you as she clung to your torso. “of course,” you replied, leaning your head over hers and caressing her back, savoring the closeness. “whatever you want.”

a/n: oof, this one was really long to write, I'm so sorry for the wait, guys, hope you like it!

[siilent-wanderer]

Little Things

Summary: Jimin never thought she’d fall for the little things — adjusting stray hairs, shared smiles, and the quiet warmth of Y/N’s laugh. But as their bond deepens, those small moments turn into something much bigger, leaving Jimin hopelessly captivated by the person who’s always been right there.

Genre: FLUFF, minor tension and jealousy

Word Count: 2k words

Yu Jimin (Karina) x aespa 5th member! reader

A/N: Little Things by One Direction; read Stuck With Yu here

The SM practice room had seen its fair share of drama — sweat-soaked nights, creative differences, and the occasional ego clash. Y/N and Jimin had checked all those boxes in the early days.

Jimin couldn’t pinpoint when exactly her initial irritation toward Y/N had begun to shift. Maybe it was when she caught Y/N making the other members laugh during grueling rehearsals. Or when the younger girl, despite her quiet confidence, stayed back to practice even after the others had left. All she knew was that she had Minjeong to blame (or thank, for ditching them at the very last minute).

Whatever the reason, Jimin knew one thing: Y/N had always intrigued her from the start.

Weeks after the amusement park date, Jimin couldn’t help but replay moments of that night in her head — the quiet intensity of Y/N's smile, the way her eyes sparkled under the fireworks, and the warmth of her presence that lingered long after they had parted ways.

But things didn’t change overnight. They still danced around their feelings, unwilling to risk disrupting the rhythm of their friendship or the dynamic of the group.

“Your timing’s a little off in the second verse,” Jimin had pointed out one evening during practice.

Y/N had blinked at her, then grinned. “I thought you were too polite to call me out like that now.”

Jimin raised an eyebrow, her lips twitching into a smirk. “I’m polite, not blind.”

From then on, there were moments — a playful rivalry during choreography drills, subtle jabs in vocal warm-ups — but somewhere in between, they began to balance each other out.

Jimin found herself staying late with Y/N to refine harmonies, and the younger girl started helping Jimin find the exact balance between leadership and letting loose.

The shift was subtle. It began with small, almost imperceptible changes.

Y/N had a habit of scratching her head when she was nervous or trying to figure out a dance move. One day, without thinking, Jimin reached over and gave her a light tap on the head. “You’ll go bald if you keep doing that,” she teased.

The next time it happened, Jimin's hand lingered, her fingers briefly smoothing over Y/N’s hair before she pulled away. Neither of them said anything, but the touch became a habit whenever the others weren't around.

One night, however, Jimin found herself sitting on the floor near Y/N as the group chatted idly about their upcoming schedule. Without thinking, her hand reached out to gently detangle a strand of Y/N’s hair.

The room went silent for a beat.

“Are you seriously combing my hair right now, unnie?” Y/N asked, amused but slightly embarrassed.

Jimin froze, her hand midair. “What? I— no! I wasn’t!”

Aeri and Minjeong burst into laughter, and even Yizhuo, who had been quiet most of the night, couldn’t hide her giggles.

Y/N just smiled, brushing it off. But the small moment left Jimin feeling oddly exposed, like her feelings were bleeding through the cracks she’d tried so hard to keep sealed.

One particularly rough week, the weight of back-to-back rehearsals and recording sessions finally caught up to Y/N. She stumbled into the dorm, her shoulders slumped and her expression drained. Without thinking, Jimin opened her arms.

Y/N hesitated for half a second before stepping into the embrace. Jimin’s arms tightened around her, and the younger let herself melt into the warmth.

“You’re okay,” Jimin murmured, her voice barely above a whisper. “We’ll get through this.”

Y/N didn’t say anything, but the way she clung to Jimin spoke volumes.

It wasn’t long before eagle-eyed fans began to notice something curious in behind-the-scenes videos and candid photos. While Minjeong and Yizhuo usually struck goofy poses and Aeri radiated energy, Jimin's gaze often lingered on Y/N. There was a softness in her eyes, a quiet admiration that stood in contrast to her usual composed demeanor.

In one viral clip from a behind-the-scenes vlog, the group was backstage, killing time between performances. Yizhuo was animatedly recounting a funny mishap from rehearsal, and Y/N was laughing so hard she had to clutch her stomach. Jimin, seated nearby, wasn’t joining in the laughter. Instead, she was watching Y/N with an expression that spoke volumes — her lips curved in a small, involuntary smile and her eyes brimming with warmth.

Fans flooded the comments:

“Karina’s so whipped for Y/N, I can’t 😭” “did anyone else notice how jimin just stares at y/n like that?? my heart!” “bruh idk what this is, but i’m shipping it already”

Then there was the infamous candid photo that circulated after the group’s outdoor photoshoot. The members were on break, sitting on picnic blankets. Y/N had her hair tied up messily, laughing at something Minjeong had whispered to her. The laughter lit up her entire face, carefree and radiant. In the background, just slightly blurred, Jimin was mid-sip of her water bottle — but her gaze was locked on Y/N. The look in her eyes was unguarded and soft, a stark contrast to her usual composed expression.

Another clip that sparked a frenzy was from one of their practice room lives. The group was chatting casually with fans when Y/N fumbled her Korean, prompting Aeri to jump in and tease her in English. Y/N retaliated by throwing a small cushion at Aeri, who ducked dramatically, sending the rest of the members into fits of laughter. Jimin, though, didn’t even seem to register the joke. Instead, the camera caught her subtly reaching over to adjust a stray hair falling into Y/N's face, her touch gentle and unthinking.

Fans were quick to notice:

“jimin brushing y/n's hair away… do you SEE the domesticity??” “Y/N: chaos Karina: supportive mom mode engaged” “someone pls check on yu jimin. she’s fallen and can’t get up 🥺”

Sharing dorms meant they saw each other constantly, but Jimin never tired of Y/N's quirks — her midnight ramen cravings, the way she hummed off-key while brushing her teeth, the little notes she left on their whiteboard.

However, sharing dorms also meant having to share Y/N with three other girls, and none tested her patience more than Aeri. It wasn’t intentional — Aeri’s easy humor and the fact that she and Y/N were both fluent English speakers naturally drew them together. Whether it was late-night dance practices, trading inside jokes or bonding over playlists they created for each other, their bond seemed effortless. Jimin often found herself biting back irritation when she’d walk into the practice room to see Y/N sprawled out on the floor, laughing at something Aeri said, making Jimin’s stomach twist in a way she didn’t want to name.

“Y/N, let’s practice the harmonies again,” Jimin called out after a water break.

But Y/N was already tangled in a playful tug-of-war with Aeri over a water bottle. Aeri won, earning an exaggerated groan from Y/N and another round of giggles.

Jimin’s lips thinned, her tone sharper than she intended. “Kang Y/N, focus. We’re behind schedule.”

Y/N blinked, her smile fading as she nodded. “Sorry, unnie. Coming.”

The tension lingered throughout rehearsal, and Jimin couldn’t ignore the tightness in her chest whenever Y/N’s attention wandered back to the Japanese member.

Later that evening, the group gathered in the dorm's common area. Aeri and Y/N were seated on the couch, heads close as they scrolled through Aeri's phone. Their occasional bursts of laughter made it impossible for Jimin to focus on the script in her lap.

“Aeri-ya, you should probably give Y/N a break,” Jimin said casually, though her voice held an edge.

Y/N looked up, confused. “Unnie, we’re just—”

“It’s getting late,” Jimin interrupted, standing abruptly. “We have an early call time tomorrow.”

Aeri raised an eyebrow but didn’t comment, while Y/N’s expression flickered with hurt before she masked it.

Jimin retreated to her room, pressing her palms to her temples. She didn’t know what annoyed her more — Y/N’s easy closeness with Aeri or her own inability to control her emotions.

Later that night when everyone had gone to bed, Jimin found herself pacing the dorm’s kitchen, trying to calm the strange emotions swirling inside her. She was startled when Y/N walked in, a glass of water in her hand and a curious expression on her face.

"Unnie," Y/N called, leaning against the counter. “Why are you acting like this all of a sudden?”

Jimin stopped pacing and turned to face her, trying to school her features into neutrality. “Acting like what?”

“Like you’re mad at me,” Y/N said, crossing her arms. “Or Aeri unnie, for that matter. Did something happen?”

Jimin hesitated. She wasn’t mad, not really. She just… couldn’t explain why seeing Y/N and Aeri together made her feel like this.

“I’m not mad,” Jimin muttered, her voice quieter now.

Y/N raised an eyebrow. “Then what is it?”

The older girl opened her mouth, then closed it again, unsure of how to put her feelings into words.

Y/N tilted her head, a teasing smile playing on her lips. “If you’re so worried that someone will snatch me up, why don’t you just confess to me right now?”

Jimin froze, her lips parting as if to respond, but no sound came out. Y/N’s teasing smirk faltered when she noticed the way Jimin’s jaw clenched, her eyes darting away. The silence that followed was heavier than she’d expected, tension thick in the air.

“I-I was kidding, unnie,” Y/N said softly, her voice losing its edge. “You don’t have to—”

But Jimin was already standing, her movements abrupt. “Let’s talk outside,” she said, her tone firm but quiet.

Y/N blinked, caught off guard, but followed Jimin as she stepped out onto the balcony. The night air was crisp, and the city lights below shimmered like scattered stars. For a moment, neither of them spoke, the hum of the distant traffic filling the silence.

Jimin leaned on the railing, her hands gripping the cold metal as if grounding herself. “You’re right,” she said finally, her voice barely audible. “I don’t like it when you’re that close with Aeri.”

Y/N tilted her head, watching her. “Why?”

Jimin exhaled shakily, the breath visible in the cool air. “Because every time I see you with her, I feel like I’m losing you. And that scares me.”

Y/N’s brows furrowed, her teasing demeanor completely gone. “Unnie…”

Jimin turned to face her, her eyes raw with emotion. “It’s not fair of me, I know. You’re allowed to be close with whoever you want. But I—” She paused, her voice cracking slightly. “I can’t help it. You’re the first person I think about when I wake up, and the last before I fall asleep. I’ve been trying to ignore it for so long, but it’s you, Y/N. It’s always been you.”

For a moment, Y/N said nothing, her lips parted as if to respond but no words forming. Then she stepped closer, her hand brushing against Jimin’s on the railing. “You should’ve just said so earlier,” she murmured, her lips curling into a soft smile. “I’ve been waiting for you, unnie.”

Jimin’s breath hitched as Y/N leaned in, her warmth cutting through the cold night air. The city lights twinkled below them, a soft breeze weaving through the balcony and making Jimin shiver slightly. Without thinking, Y/N tugged the blanket off her own shoulders and draped it over both of them, their faces mere inches apart.

“You’re really something, you know that?” Jimin whispered, her voice trembling as she gazed into Y/N’s eyes.

The younger girl’s grin widened, her hand now fully covering Jimin’s. “I could say the same about you.”

They stood there for a moment, wrapped in shared warmth, the faint glow of streetlights and the hum of distant traffic adding a quiet magic to the moment. Then, with a mischievous glint in her eye, Y/N leaned back slightly and quipped, “So, does this mean I’m officially off the market?”

Jimin laughed softly, the tension melting away. “Yes. And Aeri is definitely going to hear about this.”

Y/N snorted, pulling Jimin back inside. “Good luck with that, unnie. She’s going to say she saw this coming from a mile away.”

And as they settled on the couch, still cocooned in the shared blanket and each other’s warmth, Jimin couldn’t stop the quiet happiness bubbling in her chest. For the first time, everything felt exactly as it should — Y/N beside her, the cold night shut out, and a future that felt just a little brighter.

A/N: it was def quite smthn arranging all of my thoughts for this one (had too many ideas) but I loved writing whipped (and jealous) jimin saur much. hope you enjoyed this one!

[repostedpoliticalarts]

Some things to consider:

Our doctor started us on the LOWEST dose possible: .25mg and we adjusted to the meds. This is NOT medically induced bulemia, and if it is the dosage should definitely be adjusted. There was some nausea but it was easily manageable with some ginger chews. I experienced no noticeable effects at this dose whatsoever and I know this because I did regular weigh-ins and kelt a journal. Other than occasional nausea my eating habits and appetite remained the same.

We decided to increase to .5mg/week after a month and i started to see some very slow progress. Our electronic scale that measures not only weight but body composition (fat%, muscle, water, bone) confirmed that my losses this year have all been primarily fat stores. This has been correlated with my clothes fitting better and my being able to return to some of my older clothes I didn’t want to throw out.

At .5 i noticed that while i still had a good appetite the one major thing that changed was that my psychological guilt over “wasting food” vanished. I grew up pretty financially limited and wasting food is a guilt i carry around to this day. This means I’ll eat leftovers before they go bad because I can’t stand the thought of food being wasted. What surprised me is that I started being able to leave food on my plate, even if just scraps, and throw it away without a trace of guilt. Which was surprising because I assumed that was entirely about upbringing and psychology, but apparently there is a physical link there.

My wife reported that the “food noise” in her head, just thinking about food, planning meals, feeling the push/pull of temptation evaporated. Which obviously helped her mental state.

Eventually I moved up to 1mg/week and was seeing the most progress not in just my appearance but in my ability to move and feel comfortable in various positions without feeling my weight literally restricting what I could do. I was only on that for two months when insurance sent a letter saying they would only cover the .5 pen and only till Dec 31, 2025. So I had to pull back. I haven’t lost an ounce since but have maintained at that level.

I’m concerned about gaining back what I lost when my supply runs out. But my doctor says that data shows some regain but almost no one going back to baseline weight. I’ve heard some people quit and get crazy binging cravings, so my plan is to ration out what I have left and slowly wean off the injections at lower and lower doses. Slow on, slow off. So that it’s not a shock to my system.

Again, my doctor would like me to still be on it, and I CAN still technically take it. But the smallest dose I’ve had, which does nothing for me starts at $700 a month. This is literally just making ozempic a luxury drug for rich people.

Also, my wife doesn’t have diabetes but she is at an extremely high risk of developing it because of her genetics and family history, it killed her father while she was still in college. So this drug is being DENIED to her, even though it could help PREVENT her from DEVELOPING diabetes. So IF she gets type II diabetes she can have the drug, but NOT before, even though it can help her.

Asinine.

Fuck insurance companies. People’s healthcare should be free (for one) and their choices of what they need, what is necessary, what is helpful, should be entirely between them and their doctors.

I have been debating sharing this for some time, but with the new year weight loss ads amping up, I feel it's something I have to say. I'm worried for people's health.

Unless you've been living under a rock, you probably already know about people taking the diabetic drug ozempic for weight loss. You've probably heard the debates about the ethics of taking needed drugs away from diabetes patients and maybe even the side effect of "ozempic face." However, there is one side effect of taking these drugs that, in my opinion, people are not being warned about.

If you carefully pay attention to the television ads, you will hear them mention "pancreatitis" as a possible side effect. If you're like me a decade ago, that word probably means nothing to you. Let me warn you, however, it is no minor thing. My husband suffered from chronic pancreatitis for five agonizing years. The pain is beyond comprehension. Doctors who specialize in the pancreas describe it as the worst pain a human can endure. There is no actual cure. Little is understood about the disease, so treatment is difficult. Doctors who understand it are few and far between. It took my husband forever to get diagnosed. He went through multiple surgeries and procedures, but nothing worked. He had to go on an extremely limiting diet. If he varied from it in any way, he would have an attack. The only way to recover from an attack was to not eat at all for days, then slowly add in broth and jello. Did he lose weight? Yes. As a matter of fact, one day he stepped out of the shower, and I burst into tears at the sight of him. He was skin and bones - I could count every rib. Was it worth it to be thin? If you even ask that question, I'm concerned for your mental health.

They couldn't figure out exactly why my husband got pancreatitis. At that time, they thought only alcoholics and drug addicts got pancreatitis. This made it difficult to get compassionate medical care, unfortunately. Now they know that prescription medication (particularly diabetic medication) and high cholesterol can also cause it. Then there is another group - where they just don't know. But you better believe I would hesitate to take any medication that could cause pancreatitis. I would weigh my options carefully to assess if it was worth the risk. In my opinion, weight loss is not worth that risk.

My concern has been heightened seeing the Hers commercials for these drugs (under different names, but rest assured, it is the same thing). These commercials brag that you can get these drugs from Hers with just a simple virtual call, no questions asked. I wonder if people are fully aware of the risks of these drugs. I also wonder if we even know all of the risks yet. I also fear that the culture around these drugs could develop into an us vs. them mentality. That if it's so easy to be thin, why wouldn't you be? And some are getting dangerously thin on these drugs.

I know some diabetics who are on these drugs, and necessarily so. They tell me that it causes nausea when they eat. That's why they don't eat much. Again, that doesn't sound like a pleasant way to live. If you need it to regulate your blood sugar, that's one thing. But if you don't? Why would you do this to yourself?

My husband is now healed of pancreatitis. It was a miracle. You may not believe in that sort of thing, but I'm telling you, there is no other explanation. We had exhausted every medical solution, then the pandemic hit. We were concerned because hospitals were only taking life or death cases. What if he had a bad attack and needed an iv of pain meds? What would we do? Weeks passed - no pain. A month passed - no pain. Six weeks passed - no pain. He decided to grill a steak - something he hadn't been able to even take a nibble of in 5 years. I watched him take a bite, holding my breath. Nothing. He ate the whole thing. No pain. Five years later, still no pain. The doctors can't explain it, either.

So our story has a happy ending. Not everyone else's does. I hope people take the time to read this. If you do, please, please share it. I don't want anyone suffering needlessly.

[startaegi]

ON THE RUN, cho hyunju. 【 CHAPTER 01 】

⤑ pairing, cho hyunju x fem!reader

⤑ synopsis, where secret-not so secret lovers, hyunju and yn find each other in the unlikely of places.

⤑ series masterlist, on the run.

⤑ chapter two, coming soon!

⤑ notes, hi welcome to my first fic on here! i haven’t written anything in years but i couldn’t not write something for my girl bcos she deserves all the love. anyways enjoy, i hope it isn’t too bad!! 🫶🏻

⤑ taglist, @etta-huracan (if you would like to be added let me know)

The day seemed to pass slowly. You spent most of it watching the hours tick by. Midnight at Hangang Bridge the robotic voice had said when calling the unknown number two days ago, a number from a card you'd received from a well dressed man in Sinchon station. Your face was still slightly bruised from that interaction, you had never been the best at playing ddakji. It was 30 minutes until 12 and you knew if you didn't leave now, you wouldn't make it on time. As risky as it was you weren't missing out on the opportunity to potentially win life changing money.

You unplugged your phone from the charger and switched off the broken lamp that did nothing to light your room. The apartment was small, all contained in one room minus the bathroom but it was the best you could get with what you have. You slipped on your shoes, eyes scanning the place one last time and eventually landing on the fridge. The note she had left was still there, her messy handwriting followed by little hearts in the corner, you could picture her folded over the kitchen island, a little smile on her face as she doodled her love onto the page. You missed her more than anything.

You quickly pulled yourself together closing the door behind you. A noise to the left startled you, keys almost falling from your hands. The sweet lady who owned the building with her son was hiding herself from view of the streets, the curtains slightly moving from the wind. "Hi, Ajumma" You called.

She turned with a smile on her face, backing away from the window. "Oh hello Y/N love" She replied. 

"Are you okay?" You questioned. It wasn't like her to be roaming around the halls so late in the night especially at her age.

"I don't want to worry you" She said hesitantly. You froze, mind instantly going to Hyunju. Did she finally come by? "Those same men where outside again, no good for nothing they are" She seethed.

Your heart sank. "Oh"

"I've been keeping an eye on them just in case but looks like they're gone now" She said, walking alongside you towards the exit. "You're leaving late? Everything okay?" She asked.

You nodded. "Going to visit a friend for a while, i'll be back in time for rent payments" You assured her, the last thing you needed was to be evicted.

She patted your shoulder affectionately. "Don't worry about that, you go have a nice time" She smiled. "You deserve it"

You paused for a second, words caught in your throat. "If-" You started. "If you see Hyunju can you tell her i'll be back soon? Tell her not to go anywhere, please" You practically begged. It would be just your luck, the moment you leave she would appear again.

Her eyes softened, a look of sympathy flashed across her face. She nodded, caressing your shoulder again. "Of course I will sweetheart. You still haven't heard from her?" She questioned.

You shook your head. It had been 30 days, an entire month since you last seen the one good thing in your life. You were left with a text message, one you'd read more times than you could count, one you could recite by heart if asked. She was leaving but she'd be back soon. At first you were angry, how dare she leave you after everything you'd been through together, with just a message through a screen. Then the days turned to weeks and your anger became worry. Where was she? Why wasn't she returning your calls or texts? You didn't want to expect the worst but in the country you lived as the people you both are, being alone wasn't a good idea. You lost sleep, your headaches not that you thought they could, somehow became worse. Your medication bottles became empty and your pockets just the same. You only hope she'll be back by the time you return and this time you'll have a bank balance enough to get you out of this place.

You finally left the building when another resident entered, distracting the older woman and making your exit, but of course not forgetting to say goodbye. The rain was heavy, bouncing against the cracked pavements. The silence is eerie. The broken street lamps flicker casting shadows on the wet pavements, your jacket doesn't have a hood leaving your hair to get drenched by the midnight drizzle. You scan the roads, no cars or people in sight. An overwhelming feeling of anxiety washes over you, a familiar sensation that mostly greets you in the night.

You don't have time to dwell on it as a beam of headlights approach you. A silver car pulls up beside you, the passenger side window rolls down. You're taken back at the person sat in the driver seat, face concealed by a black mask. They're also wearing a pink suit, their entire body hidden.

"Name?" The masked person questions.

"Y/N L/N" You reply, droplets of rain falling against your open lips.

They don't reply instead the back door clicks open. You quickly slide into the empty seat shielding yourself from the rain. You push the wet hair from your eyes only then noticing other people sat in the seats around you, seemingly asleep.

"Uh, excuse me?" You ask the masked driver. "What's-" You stop mid sentence, suddenly it becomes harder to breathe and a mysterious mist fogs your eyesight. You struggle to move your mouth, your entire body feels heavy. You feel the jolt of the car starting again and before you know it you're being sent into a slumber completely unaware of the hell that awaits you.