#just food and music and dancing the entire day

[crunchyapple33]

brought to you by: jts circus event 🂱

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ— dates in my drag race dr ㅤ! ㅤ

one of my favorite dates of ours was when they came to visit my hometown with me during the summertime. they were super excited to meet my parents meanwhile i was a nervous wreck. we went out to eat at a brick oven pizzeria, and woaw . . my parents loved my partners!!!!

there was still a little bit of daylight left, so we all thought it'd be a good idea to catch the fireworks at the festival currently in town. it was so much funn !!!! there was live rock music and i got challenged to a dance battle by some random child, and a group of people judged us on who won the battle lol.

i totallllyyyy didn't bust my ass on the pavement while we were leaving because it was so dark out by then, and i totalllllyyy didn't end up bleeding all over the car seat on the ride home......

a 'simpler' date, but it was raining the entire dayy.. so, what else to do except binge a show, order some food, and paint each other's faces in our own makeup style? something something Literally this hehehe:

to get to a specific gig in another city, our plane had to drop us off at a midway point so we could get on another plane. the plane was running late, so we decided we could make half a day out of it !!

we found a local cat cafe and hung out with the CUTESSTTT CATS EVERRR !!!! i swear if we weren't out of state and on our way to a gig, i would've begged harder to adopt one bahahaha

(we just BARELY made it back to the airport in time ....)

kori was sick while lydia and i were visiting her in boston, and she was feeling really under the weather so we figured out a way to connect her laptop to the tv and we took turns controlling the keyboard and mouse while playing roblox games ehehehehe

i took them to my local mall and we all got our own build-a-bears!!!! they're matchingggg !!!! there's a carousel in the mall and we took our bears on it ehehe

(im not kidding there is a carousel . nobody was riding it while i was there in this reality it was so sad. my parents didn't let me ride it)

hearts dividers by @enchanthings-a, post is here

[sturnzsblog]

empty dreams and false promises 23

summary: y/n life changes and not for the best she is forced to move in with three people that she barely knows. She ends up falling for one of these strangers, but who will it be?

Warnings: mentions of death, stalking, drugs ( not actual use) and smut! this is for all parts of the story! please let me know if i missed any!

I woke up to the sound of pots clanging in the kitchen and the smell of pancakes floating down the hallway.

The sunlight streamed through my window, casting little golden shapes on my comforter. For a second, I just laid there, staring at the ceiling, feeling… weirdly calm.

But then I remembered: the boys said we were going to a party tonight.

And before that? A trip to the mall.

I slipped out of bed and padded to the bathroom, brushing my teeth with half a smile.

I hadn’t been to a party in months, not since everything with my mom. I was nervous. But part of me was excited too—like maybe, for just one night, I could feel normal.

Jimmy stood at the stove flipping pancakes while Chris was leaning against the counter, sipping orange juice. Matt was already sitting at the table, phone in hand, thumb scrolling aimlessly.

“Morning, sleepyhead,” Chris said, giving me a soft smile.

“Morning,” I mumbled, grabbing a seat beside Matt. He barely looked up.

That familiar ache settled in my chest again. Things with Matt were… complicated lately. Some days he was warm, other days distant. Today, he was unreadable.

Jimmy clapped his hands together after plating a stack of pancakes. “Okay! Fuel up. We’re hitting the mall after this, remember?”

I smiled faintly. “Do I get to pick my outfit?”

Chris grinned. “It’s your night.”

Matt just nodded and focused on his food.

We spent almost two hours walking through stores.

Chris and Jimmy were the fun ones—picking up ridiculous outfits and daring me to try them on. I laughed so much my stomach hurt

Matt trailed behind sometimes, watching me with this quiet look on his face. Like he wanted to say something but couldn’t.

Eventually, we found the perfect outfit. A silky, black two-piece with a lace trim top and a matching skirt that hugged just right.

Chris whistled playfully when I came out of the dressing room.

“Shit, Y/N. You’re about to start fights tonight,” he teased.

I rolled my eyes. “It’s not like that.”

“Doesn’t mean you won’t be the hottest one there,” Matt muttered, almost too low to hear.

But I heard it.

My heart skipped.

Back home, I did my hair and makeup in the boys’ shared bathroom while they got dressed in the hall.

Jimmy was playing music, dancing around like we were getting ready for prom. Chris kept poking his head in to “check” on me—aka bug me for fun.

But it was Matt who knocked quietly and asked, “Can I come in?”

I nodded.

He stood behind me as I curled the last piece of hair, and our eyes met in the mirror.

“You look beautiful,” he said, voice barely above a whisper.

I didn’t answer. I couldn’t.

At the party the music was loud. Bodies swayed. Lights flickered between purple and red.

Matt stayed by my side the entire time. He held my drink while I danced, he kept his hand on the small of my back when we moved through the crowd.

Eventually, a slow song came on—one of those unexpected breaks from the thumping beats

I turned to head back to the kitchen, but Matt gently grabbed my hand.

“Dance with me?”

I blinked up at him. “You hate dancing.”

He chuckled. “I don’t hate dancing with you.”

So I let him pull me in. My arms looped around his neck. His hands rested on my waist. We swayed, inches apart. The lights danced across his face and for a second, it was just us.

Then, without warning, he leaned in.

And kissed me.

It was slow. Deep. The kind of kiss that feels like a question and a promise all in one.

I kissed him back.

But even as my fingers curled in his shirt, something tugged at the back of my mind. Not doubt—just… something else.

When we got back home my cheeks were still flushed when we got home. I said goodnight quickly and headed for a shower.

Hot water poured over my skin, washing away the sweat, the music, the confusion. My lips still tingled.

Afterward, I padded into my room, towel-dried hair and bare-faced. I pulled on an old shirt and—without thinking—Chris’s hoodie from the back of the chair.

It smelled like him.

I laid down, eyes fluttering shut when—

knock knock

I sat up. “Yeah?”

The door creaked open. Chris stepped in, hands in his pockets.

“Just wanted to say goodnight,” he said. “I saw you went ghost on me after the party.”

I smiled weakly. “Sorry. I was tired.”

He walked over to the edge of my bed. “I meant what I said earlier. I’m always here for you, you know?”

“I know.” My voice was small. Grateful.

He turned to leave, but something inside me broke open.

“Chris?”

He stopped.

I got up, walked to him, fingers tugging the edge of his hoodie like a lifeline.

“Don’t go. I… I don’t want to be alone.”

His eyes searched mine for a second. Then he nodded. “Okay.”

He climbed into bed, awkwardly at first, but then relaxed when I curled into his side.

Silence wrapped around us like a blanket.

Then I whispered, “Chris?”

“Yeah?”

I looked up.

And kissed him.

Soft. Careful. Scared.

But he kissed me back.

okay soooo YEAH! 😭

Janae 💋

taglist 💋

@n00dl3zzz @pip4444chris @sturnzzlovee @bernardmatthews @badbishkayleee @katiebae333 @dummyslut00

[enhaeil]

GARTER TOSS! ☆ 엔하이픈

☆ reader x enhypen during the garter toss at ur wedding

c/w : suggestive, sweet tho. search garter toss on tiktok if ur confused

heeseung

song : wet the bed - chris brown

when you told heeseung you wanted to do a garter toss at your wedding, he didn't hesitate to agree... i mean, a free excuse to get underneath your dress ? sounds like a win to him!

as that part of the reception comes, your decorated bride chair is dragged to the middle of the dance floor, and you sit down.

heeseung stands there waiting for the music to start, and as he's looking, he realizes something he stupidly forgot; all your friends and family are about to see him do this.

before he could even think anymore, the intro came on.

too late now.

'I'ma kiss it right, yeah, yeah I'm gon' lick all night, yeah, yeah..'

heeseung body rolls and makes the most seductive faces possible, even grinding his body onto the floor.

he finally makes his way towards you, sinking down to his knees and grabbing one of your legs, caressing it. his touch is delicate, compared to the scenario that's in front of you.

he kisses your ankle before lifting your dress enough for him to go under. his lips trail up your thigh to where the garter lays snug, and he smoothly pulls it down with his teeth before standing up with it still in his mouth as everyone hoots and cheers.

he'll be taking that dress off you next.

jay

song : promise - ciara

per usual, jay loves to please you, so when you bring up a garter toss, he quickly nods and presses a kiss on your forehead.

he left the planning and the song choice completely up to you, so you chose lyrics you felt matched him the best.

'there's nothing I won't do to spend my life with you... I'll give my all to you. i promise that I will never lie to you, boy..'

when jay hears the lyrics as he's kneeled in front of you, he can't help but smile up at you, seeing so much love in the eyes he's looked in multiple nights.

jay kept it classy, yet sensual. fingers grazing against your legs, as he reaches under your dress, still holding eye contact with you. he gives your thigh a squeeze before he pulls the thin fabric down your leg, shooting you that smile you love oh so dearly as he takes it off.

he stands up, pressing a kiss to your lips before turning around a bowing to your friends and family watching.

jake

song : wifey - next

'sweet—but you know when to flip it street. freak—but only when it comes to me. see—that's why you're my wifey'

jake had heard the song at one of your family's summer barbecues and has been obsessed with it since, randomly singing it around the house and making it his goal to include it when you guys get married one day.

that day came, and when discussing a garter toss, he was a bit hesitant, not wanting to show his freak side to your family, but eventually agreed to it and chose this as his anthem.

you sat in the middle of the dance floor as your now husband two stepped and grooved his way over to you, pausing to do his lil' dance in front of you, causing you to move along with him in your seat.

he dances his way down to the floor, playing with the hem of your dress before pulling it up a bit and diving under, still vibing underneath you.

you feel his teeth graze your thigh in a playful bite before he drags the garter down and past your foot.

he stands up with his arms in the air like a frat boy, as everyone cheers for him and lines up to catch the garter.

you're so happy you married this man.

sunghoon

song : ride - somo

you've always wanted a garter toss to be included in your wedding, but sunghoon was indifferent, not wanting to do something so sensual in front of his family and members.

you were upset about it, sporting a pout once he said no, but when it came to your wedding day, that thought was completely gone out the window.

you guys danced the night away, ate good food, and exchanged loving looks the whole entire night. you were just happy to finally be married to the man you've been in love with for years.

as everyone began to leave, and the once full hall was now empty, you noticed your new husband had run off somewhere, and the only thing left was your bride chair.

before you have time to be confused, you hear music playing and your man comes out with roses, and your favorite smile on his face.

he walks towards you, pushing you down in the chair and handing you your flowers.

'take off those heels, lay on my bed. whisper dirty secrets while I'm pulling on your hair. poison in our veins, but we don't even care..'

he gives you your own personal show, body rolling, grinding, and making the nastiest expressions he could. he finally makes his way in front of you before he gets to his knees, letting his hands roam underneath your dress to caress your thighs.

your breathing becomes heavier as he smirks, loving the effect he has on you. it's no one but you two, so he takes this opportunity to lift your dress up as much as he pleases, revealing the pretty garter you wore and giving him a peek of the lacey lingerie set you planned on showing him later.

he kisses up your thigh before sliding the material down with his mouth and taking it off, still continuing to leave kisses on your thighs afterward.

the song finally ends, causing him to get up and help you out your chair.

"let's hurry up and get to our suite, or we won't make it to the limousine.."

a/n: i enjoyed writing this way too much . i will be writing more wedding scenarios. Thanks

[muniimyg]

⋆꙳•❅ myg: true love ❆•꙳

in which you bring your boyfriend home to meet the entire family for the first time; aunts, uncles, cousins, nieces and nephews—everyone. only for them to fall in love with him almost as much as you have. in their excitement, they take all of yoonig's attention—leaving you all sulky and annoyed like the grinch

series m.list // taglist

note: lol ... idk (again)

warning: exhibition kink (they get caught... kinda)/corruption kink, kitchen sex, food play (yoongi licks/sucks cookie dough off her titties), standing/carrying position, doggy, dirty talk, ass slapping, yoongi cums on her face

//

you didn’t see this coming. 

yet, it’s not like you expected this to be a disaster.

the laughter in the living room feels like a distant hum, the chatter of your family’s voices weaving together like a fanbase at their favourite artist's concert. yoongi is at the center of it all, effortlessly charming your relatives, cracking jokes, and sharing stories. his confidence has your aunties cackling, and even your dad—who rarely laughs at anyone’s jokes—has a grin tugging at his lips.

it’s like they’ve known him for years, and you watch, your heart swelling with pride but tightening all at once.

as the day drifts on, yoongi’s laughter fills the house, a constant undercurrent to the flow of conversation. but with every minute that passes, you feel further and further away from him.

he’s a crowd pleaser—so naturally, everyone’s drawn to him. 

your mom asks him about his music, your cousin insists on showing him her latest dance moves, your brother talks to him about his gaming setup, and your nieces and nephews hang off his every word like he’s the coolest person in the world.

it should feel good, watching him shine. 

but it doesn’t.

it feels awful. it feels dark and annoying. it feels… not very merry.

not when he’s not looking your way.

not when he hasn’t even noticed how your heart sinks a little more whenever someone else steals his attention.

it should be yours.

by the time the house quiets, everyone finally settling into their rooms to sleep, you find yourself alone in the kitchen, the soft glow of the overhead lights casting long shadows on the countertops.

you should feel relieved. 

you should be happy he’s fitting in so well with your family. but instead, you’re pulling flour and sugar from the pantry, your fingers moving mechanically as you mix the ingredients for cookies.

it’s a way to pass the time, a way to keep your hands busy so they don’t shake from all the fucking jealousy. 

you sigh, glancing at the clock. 

it’s late, and he’s still not back.

the truth is, he’s probably helping your brother with the kids. but why can’t you stop yourself from thinking about it so bitterly? he rather help your brother put his kids down than to be  scraping dough into perfect little balls and placing them on the tray with you? you try to push the feeling of abandonment away, but it keeps pressing in, an ache in your chest that only grows with each passing second.

“i’m gonna break up with him,” you murmur under your breath, your heart tightening when you realize how badly you want him beside you. “next christmas.”

you hear the soft thud of footsteps behind you, and for a second, you think it’s just your tired mind playing tricks. but then you feel it—his presence.

he leans against the doorframe, his eyes dark in the low light, a frown pulling at his lips when he notices you.

“you’re still up?” he asks, his voice rough like he’s just woken up from a deep sleep.

“yeah,” you reply, your voice a little too sharp. “baking.”

he steps into the kitchen, his gaze never leaving you. his movements are slow, deliberate, and when he finally reaches you, he doesn’t say anything else. he just wraps his arms around your waist from behind, his chin settling gently on your shoulder.

his breath is warm against your neck, and you almost want to pull away, the tension in the air thickening the closer he gets.

“what are you making?” he asks, his voice quiet now, almost teasing.

“cookies,” you mutter, trying to focus on the tray in front of you. you move the cookies to the cooling rack, but you’re aware of his every move behind you. “for santa.”

“not for me?”

“ask literally anyone else in my family to make you cookies. i’m sure they’d love to feed one to you too.”

his fingers brush lightly against your arms, just enough to send a shiver down your spine.

“hey,” he says, his voice softer now, like he’s sensing something isn’t right. his lips press gently to your neck, his breath warm against your skin. “what’s wrong?”

you swallow, your throat tight as you try to keep your voice steady. 

“nothing.”

he pulls back slightly, just enough to catch a glimpse of your face, his expression concerned but unreadable. 

“did i do something?”

your chest tightens. 

the tears sting the back of your eyes, and you feel that lump form in your throat again. you try to force the words out, but they catch in your chest.

“it’s nothing. sorry, i know i have an attitude right now. go to bed. i’m gonna finish up here—”

“no,” he states. “tell me what’s going on, baby.”

you hesitate. 

then, you give in.

why should you hide it anyway? you know him. he won’t let you go until he knows what’s going on in your head and until it’s resolved enough for him to feel some sense of peace. yoongi can’t go to bed if you’re upset. 

“it’s just… everyone was… you were with them all day, and i just—” you break off, feeling the words slipping from you now. “i just felt like you forgot about me. like you were… everywhere but here. and i don’t know why it feels like this, yoongi. i don’t know why it annoys me so much. i’m so glad everyone loves you—but hello? i love you too. why’d you have to ditch me all day? it’s christmas in 20 minutes and this is the longest we’ve talked all day.”

you’re near tears, your voice cracking with the weight of it.

his arms tighten around you, pulling you back against him, his chest warm against your back. you close your eyes, leaning into the comfort of his touch, but the ache in your chest doesn’t fade.

“i’m sorry,” he whispers, pressing his forehead to your neck. “i didn’t mean to make you feel that way. i got caught up. i didn’t realize i was leaving you out.”

his voice is low and thick with something you can’t place, and when he tilts your head to face him, the look in his eyes makes your breath hitch.

“you’re all i want, okay?” he murmurs, his thumb brushing over your cheek, wiping away the first tear that escapes. “just you. i was getting along and getting to know them for you. you know that, right?”

“i do,” you sigh. “i’m mad at myself too. i don’t know why i’m so greedy when it comes to you… but i can’t help it.”

he leans in slowly, his lips brushing against yours, gentle at first, before deepening the kiss, pulling you closer, if that was even possible.

the world outside the kitchen melts away, leaving only the sound of your heartbeat, his breath, and the weight of the moment.

“that’s okay,” yoongi comforts you. “i’d feel the same if our positions were switched.”

“really?”

“absolutely,” he chuckles. “i don’t think i ever told you this… but that day you met all my friends and kept laughing at jin’s jokes? i went boxing with jungkook the next day to get all the anger out of my system.”

your eyes widen. 

“you went boxing?” 

“yeah.”

“that’s really hot,” you deadpan. “show me proof.”

he smirks. “why? does it turn you on?”

you scoff at him. 

“duh.”

yoongi’s smirk lingers, like he knows exactly what’s happening to your heart rate right now, but he doesn’t give you a chance to protest. 

in one smooth motion, he pulls you into him, lifting you effortlessly and placing you onto the kitchen counter. the cold surface of the counter sends a shiver through your body, but the heat radiating from him—his hands on your waist, his body pressed against yours—quickly warms you.

he leans in, his lips brushing over your ear as he teases, “you’re like the grinch when you're jealous, you know.”

you pull back slightly, glaring at him. “the grinch?”

“yeah,” he chuckles softly, his hand slipping to the back of your neck, pulling you in for a slow, teasing kiss that leaves your lips tingling. then, he places his hand on top of your left breast. he squeezes it and chuckles; “hey… your heart’s about to grow three sizes... i can feel it.”

you roll your eyes, but you can’t suppress the smile tugging at your lips. 

“you’re unbelievable.”

“oh, i know,” he murmurs, his lips brushing against your jawline before dipping down to place soft, lingering kisses along your neck. “but don’t worry. i think i like my grinchy little girlfriend.”

his breath is warm on your skin, his hands sliding under your shirt to feel the smoothness of your skin. you shiver again, not from the cold this time.

“you’re annoying,” you mutter, but it’s hard to keep the edge in your voice when his touch has your mind scrambled. “and i’m still irritated.”

“i know,” he says, a low chuckle vibrating against your skin. “but if it’s any consolation, i think you’re pretty damn cute when you’re all possessive.”

“i’m not possessive,” you argue, even as your heart beats faster, as you shift a little on the counter.

“uh-huh,” he smirks, his lips brushing over yours in a quick kiss. “that’s not what it looks like.”

you glare at him, half annoyed, half amused. 

“you’re the one teasing me about it.”

“true,” he says, his gaze turning playful, his thumb running over the curve of your waist. “but i think i’d let you get away with anything, even if you did steal my presents or throw snowballs at my friends.”

“you’re pushing it,” you warn, but there’s no real heat in your words, not when he’s looking at you like that—like he knows exactly how to push your buttons and make you melt all at once.

he leans in, his lips brushing yours again, this time slower, the kiss deepening in a way that makes everything else in the world seem irrelevant. you press into him, hands sliding up to his neck, your fingers threading into his hair.

“maybe i should keep pushing,” he murmurs against your lips, his voice low and husky. “i’ll make it worth your while.”

you pull back, breathless, meeting his eyes with a mix of amusement and desire. 

“you’re insufferable.”

“and completely yours.”

you huff at him. “shut up.”

he just grins, his hands resting on your thighs, pulling you closer until your lips are just an inch away. “you know you love it,” he teases, kissing you again, slow and teasing.

“i might,” you admit, your voice barely a whisper against his lips, “but i’m still the grinch.”

“yeah, you are,” he agrees with a smile, his lips brushing your cheek. “but you’re my grinch.”

you sigh, shaking your head. 

“you’re lucky i love you.”

“i know,” he says, his tone smug, his hands sliding down to your hips as he pulls you even closer. “i’m very lucky.”

yoongi knows how to handle you. 

you and your attitude. 

he knows just how to kiss you and how to fuck the grinch in you away. 

but, like he said; he doesn’t mind it. he loves it when you get possessive. he loves it when you sulk. he loves it when you react the way you do because it reminds him that you have real and big feelings for him. 

“miss my cock, huh?” he hums in your ear, as he spreads your legs. 

you’re still sitting on the kitchen countertop. yoongi stands in between your legs and he’s pushing your panties to the side. before you can answer, he spits on his cock and shoves it inside your tight pussy. 

“m-mhmm,” you moan, wrapping your arms around his neck. 

he moves closer to you, biting your shoulder. 

yoongi begins to thrust in and out of you. he fucks you, panting in your ear as he goes. 

“f-fuck,” he grunts. “so tight. is that why you’re being such a bitch, baby? needed to cum all day? should’ve just pulled me aside.”

you moan. 

“f-fuck me where? in my childhood bedroom? you’d love that, wouldn’t you?” you mutter. “you and your corruption kink. w-what now? you’re fucking me in my family kitchen… what if they come downstairs? all your hard work of trying to impress them will go to waste when they see you fucking me like this.”

he hisses. “like what? like you’re a dirty slut? aren’t you, though? took you like 5 seconds to get wet the minute i fingered you.” 

you huff at him. 

“so w-what? nnghh, you’re fucking me and acting l-like—oh my g-god—like you don’t love this.” 

he bites your shoulder. 

“i do love this,” he admits. “i love you.”

"love you too."

as yoongi fucks you, you begin to moan a little too loud. before you know it, he covers your mouth with his hand and scolds you to shut the fuck up. 

then, when you quiet, he turns to the side and eyes your cookie dough. he scoops a bit with his fingers before spreading it over your tits. he leaves a plop of it on your nipple. you giggle from the texture and because you know what’s to come. 

yoongi dips his head low and begins to lick the cookie dough off. 

he sucks your nipple, taking his time. as he swallows, he moans from the sweetness. your fingers get lost in his hair. you throw your head back from the sensation—the warmth of his tongue against your nipples, the way he tightens his lips and tugs at them… everything. he’s so good at this.

he’s so good with your body. 

“delicious, baby…”

“yeah?”

he kisses you. 

as he kisses you, he lifts you up. keeping his cock inside you, you wrap your legs and arms around him, helping him carry your weight. yoongi is strong, has always been… he loves this shit. 

yoongi thrusts and you help by meeting him halfway. you pull yourself up and down. you bounce and he grunts from how hard your bodies slam into each other. as he rides the high, he places you back on the countertop. he lifts your leg and puts one over his shoulder. 

with a clear view of your pussy, he uses his other hand to play with your clit. 

“ohh..” you whimper. “y-yoongi…”

you feel every curve of his cock inside you. as it throbs, your walls tighten and he feels it. it excites him. 

“you like doing this to me?” you moan. “you like fucking me like this, baby? you like fucking me while my entire family is asleep upstairs? are you sick in the fucking head? you want them to find us like this, don’t you?”

“shut up,” yoongi grunts. “fucking naughty girl… you deserve this.”

“yeah?” you ask sweetly. “i guess that’s true… but you’ve been mean to me all day. i think i deserve you like this. deep and on the verge of being caught. maybe they should find us. that way they can hate you a little. maybe they’ll think you’re disgusting for fucking their precious ___ in the kitchen—”

“shut. up.”

yoongi then pulls himself out and grabs you by the waist. he puts you down, roughly turning you over. he then shoves his dick back inside you, hitting you from behind. 

he slaps your ass and you let out a whimper. 

“they’re gonna wake up,” you tease him. “slap my ass again, baby. i’ll scream and they’ll come running down—”

“___, i swear to god—”

“fuck me harder, daddy.”

yoongi loses his mind. 

he slaps your add and grabs your neck. he tightens his grip around it as he fucks you. he fucks you sloppy and fast. he’s lost in his own world of pleasure, not giving a fuck if it’s too much for you. 

it’s not. 

you love it.

he fucks you hard, rough, and fast. 

as he reaches his climax, he pulls out and pushes you down. you follow and get on your knees. 

yoongi cums on your face. 

he lets out a shaky moan as he pumps himself. you stick your tongue out, waiting for the very last drop. just as you’re about to swallow—

“yoongi?”

yoongi’s head snaps towards the bottom of the staircase. his eyes widen at the sight of your brother. he’s rubbing his eyes.

“s-shit… hey. what are you doing up?” yoongi clears his voice, trying to play it cool. he shifts his body, hiding you. it’s a good thing the kitchen lighting is dim enough to help hide you and that he has a robe on.

“just came downstairs to turn up the heat,” then, he peers over. “are you baking?”

yoongi chuckles. 

“___ is… she went to the washroom.”

your brother laughs. “did you guys get into a fight? she only bakes at this hour if she’s upset.”

yoongi laughs awkwardly. 

“think we’re all made up now.”

finally, after what feels like an eternity, your brother laughs one final time before bidding yoongi goodnight and merry christmas. still, yoongi holds his breath for a second, waiting for the sound of footsteps retreating. then, when he’s sure he’s alone, he lets out a quiet sigh of relief.

“holy fuck. that was too close,” he mutters under his breath, turning just enough to give you a look. his eyes meet yours and for a moment, there’s a flicker of something—maybe a little amusement, maybe a little guilt. 

yoongi’s hands hover for a moment before he helps you up, his fingers brushing over yours with a tenderness that surprises even him.

you stare at him, your eyes wide with amusement, and for a split second, it almost feels like time slows down.

he feels his chest tighten, his breath catching in his throat. his throat feels dry, like he’s trying to swallow down the guilt that’s suddenly creeping in.

then, out of nowhere, you burst into laughter. 

the sound is bright, full of life, and it hits him harder than he expected. his stomach twists, and for a moment, it’s like his heart stops. his face stiffens, eyes narrowing slightly, the feeling of almost being caught hanging heavy between you.

arms crossing over his chest in a defensive motion, but there’s a subtle shift in his posture too—a little hunched, shoulders tight, like he’s trying to hide the nerves still buzzing under his skin. he presses his lips together. 

“it’s not funny,” he says quietly. “i could've been kicked out. your family would have had very valid reasons to hate me.”

“relax,” you say, your voice soft, teasing, and then your lips are on his. "my brother is blind without his glasses."

the kiss is light, a quick peck that softens him, like a breath he didn’t realize he was holding in. he freezes for just a second, feeling the warmth of your lips, the way you fit against him. you pull back, your eyes meeting his, and there’s a softness there that he wasn’t expecting—something that makes him feel like maybe he doesn’t have to carry the weight of this on his own.

"still..." yoongi murmurs.

“they love you… and i’m grown.”

but still, he’s not entirely convinced. 

yoongi looks at you again, his expression softening, just the slightest hint of vulnerability flickering in his eyes.

“never letting you convince me to fuck you in a shared space ever again,” he mutters, voice still rough but softer, the playful tone slipping back into place. 

he doesn’t want to dwell on the mess.

he never does.

instead, he takes a step closer, letting his hand rest on the small of your back, pulling you closer as if to remind himself that no matter how much chaos there is, this—you—are his calm.

you're his one true love.

“it was easy, though,” you tease him. “you and your exhibition kink.”

he sighs. “i know, but—”

“they love you. i love you.”

yoongi’s gaze softens. 

“yeah?”

“yeah,” you say, as he kisses the top of your head. you look up at him and smile. “merry christmas, baby. let’s get to bed. i brought a santa hat for you to wear cos i want you to cum in my chimney.”

[kxsagi]

hiiiiiii can i ask if you can write bllk x reader where reader loves food and eat everything and really is happy when food but when she don't eat at all means she's really upset and guys worrying about why she's not eating at all, can you do it w sae, rin, kaiser, hiori or anyone u want hihih

I genuinely love your works! Got me giggling and feet kicking in ungodly hour. :3 thank you

“𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐧 𝐚 𝐛𝐢𝐭𝐞? 𝐬𝐞𝐧𝐝 𝐡𝐞𝐥𝐩”

a/n: HIII THANK YOU SO MUCH OMGGG LOVE YOUUU 🫶🏻

i am such a foodie so this was so cute and fun to write but i could NOT find a title to save my life

ft. itoshi sae, itoshi rin, kaiser michael, hiori yo

itoshi sae

sae’s used to you gasping dramatically at the sight of food like it’s a long-lost lover. 

“they have churros here?? SAE THEY HAVE CHURROS.” 

“okay. get like ten.” he doesn’t blink. 

he actually finds it really endearing. you eating happily is one of his favorite sights. he’ll sit there, bored and half-asleep, while you destroy three types of desserts and ask if you can eat the fries that came with his meal (he gives you a disgusted face the entire time, but he’s secretly dying from cuteness inside). 

so the first time you push your plate away during a dinner date in madrid, his fork halts mid-air. 

“... you full?” 

you shrug. “just not hungry.” 

red flags. sirens. DEFCON 1. 

he won’t show it outwardly, but he’s staring at you the entire meal. and when you say you want to go home early? 

he doesn’t let you go to bed without asking, “what’s wrong?” 

you try to dodge it. 

“you love food too much to leave that untouched. tell me.” 

if you cry? he’ll gently pull you in and kiss the top of your head while holding you against his chest. he won’t say much, but you’ll wake up the next morning with your favorite snacks on the kitchen counter and your favorite comfort show queued up. 

itoshi rin

rin doesn’t get it at first. why do you get so giddy over something as basic as food? 

but then he sees you twirl when you smell fresh pancakes, or do a little dance when your ramen hits the table, and he thinks: oh. 

it becomes something he secretly anticipates – how your eyes light up, how you always go “one more bite” and it’s twenty more bites. 

so when you go silent during lunch, poke at your plate, and don’t finish your drink, he immediately notices. 

“you okay?” 

you nod too quickly. “just tired.” 

lies. LIES. rin can detect those like a hawk. 

he doesn’t pressure you in public. but later, when it’s just the two of you, he’ll sit on the couch beside you and ask again. 

“did someone say something to you?” 

you: “no, i just…” 

he’s already pulling you into a side hug. “don’t shut down. talk to me.” 

and when you finally open up, he’ll listen quietly, rubbing your back, then mutter something like: “we’re getting takeout tomorrow. your pick. and you’re eating the entire menu.” 

that’s how he comforts, gentle, low-key, but dead serious about getting you back to food-happy. 

kaiser michael

he lives to spoil you when it comes to food. five-star reservations, late-night gelato runs, midnight pancake competitions in his penthouse kitchen. 

“liebe, you are divine when you eat.” 

he flirts even more when you’re biting into a croissant or sighing over truffle fries. sometimes he feeds you just for fun. 

so when he notices you ignoring your plate at a fancy restaurant he booked weeks in advance? 

full drama. drops his fork. 

“okay. who upset my queen.” 

you try to laugh it off, but he’s already leaning in, his voice low. “you didn’t even touch your steak. baby. talk to me.” 

he genuinely can’t stand seeing you look so dull and unbothered about food, it’s so un-you. 

will cancel everything to take you home. 

and when he gets you there? puts on your favorite music, wraps you in a blanket, and just holds you until you finally admit what’s wrong. 

“you don’t have to act okay. but don’t keep me in the dark, ja?” 

the next day he’s bringing you breakfast in bed with pancakes shaped like hearts. 

“you’re not leaving this bed until you’re full and happy again. doctor kaiser’s orders.” 

hiori yo

hiori is the most softly concerned of them all. he finds so much joy in watching you eat – it’s comforting, like a sign that things are good and safe. 

he even started learning how to cook just to surprise you with homemade meals. 

so when he makes something for you and you just… barely touch it? 

his heart kind of sinks. 

“is it not good…?” 

you quickly shake your head. “no! it’s amazing, hiori. i just… i’m not hungry.” 

and you see his expression falter for a second. 

he doesn’t say anything right away, but later that night, he gently brings you a cup of tea and sits beside you. 

“you don’t have to eat if you’re upset… but if you ever want to talk, i’m here.” 

he’ll rub your back slowly, his voice soft and careful. he never pushes, just lets you open up at your own pace. 

once you do, he’ll give you the warmest hug and thank you for trusting him. 

the next morning? fresh breakfast waiting. little notes that say “for my favorite foodie 💙” and “today will be better.” 

© 𝐤𝐱𝐬𝐚𝐠𝐢

[practistyles]

party 4 u

Inspirations: party 4 u by charli xcx my queen!!

In this part: smut!! also mean!harry, exes, slight dom!harry, choking (light), slapping (light), unprotected sex, p in v, fingering, size kink, belly bulge kink👀 , dirty talk, soft!harry at the end

word count: 2.5k

Y/N stood with her hip against the kitchen counter, frowning at everyone over her glass, as the lights and music thumped. She'd been stood here for a while, not because she liked the people here - she didn't even know them, or because the food was good - she wasn't hungry. The only thing that rumbled in her belly was a deep, fiery need.

A need to see Harry saunter in through her front door. She was down bad. It had been a month since they'd last seen each other, and as much as Y/N could tell herself she'd thrown his party because she needed to let loose and have fun, she knew the real reason deep down.

He still wasn't here, and now Y/N couldn't remember why they'd fought. Why she'd screamed, and he'd screamed back, and she'd locked him out in the middle of the night. The next day, he had moved out. And honestly, that first week without him, Y/N was happy. She felt free and joyful and embraced her single status. But now everything was different. She wanted to be near him, she wanted to feel his hands on her. Anytime she thought of fucking someone else to satisfy the itch, an ugly pit formed in her stomach.

She'd thought it was very smart to have this party, to invite all their common friends and ask them to bring everyone. She made sure someone texted Harry. But it seemed very much like there was no use. He was nowhere to be seen.

Y/N pushed herself away from the counter, avoiding the calls of some of her friends. Her mood was sour. What could he be doing instead? Y/N felt the snake of jealousy crawl up her chest. She'd been feeling restless enough this entire week, and she'd convinced herself that today was the day Harry and her would finally talk. But now she guessed she'd lie alone in her bed.

Outside the kitchen, people danced and grinded against each other. Y/N wanted to shove every single person outside her house. But she smiled as people pulled her into their groups, and she had no choice but to sway her hips along to the music.

She turned around, throwing her hands above and shaking her head, and then, their eyes met. Y/N's body kept moving, but she felt mentally paralysed. Harry stood in his black jacket at the edge of the room, sipping from a drink, eyeing everyone like they crowd bored him. He smirked, and lifted his drink up at Y/N. She saw his eyes move up and down her body, and every single thing she felt for him came rushing back.

She turned her body back toward the music, trying to ignore the way her entire body buzzed, but her head just wasn’t in it anymore.

He was here. He came.

She felt him before she saw him again - cutting through the crowd like a tide, eyes laser focused on Y/N. His hair had grown out a bit, and his emerald green eyes flashed in the lighting. There was a tingling in her belly, amplifying every minute.

And then he was beside her. He ducked his head to put his mouth next to her ear. "Nice party," he whispered. Y/N forgot how deeply his voice affected her too. She felt his lips almost graze her ear, and the shiver that went through her body was almost shameful.

"Didn't think you'd show up," she said. Huge lie.

Harry cocked a brow at her. "Really? I would say that all you've thought about is me showing up."

"Don't boost your ego too much. I just wanted to let loose."

Harry's face was impassive. With a clench of his jaw, he put his hands on Y/N's waist and turned her around to be pressed up against him. "Why'd you stop dancing then, hm?" He patted her hip. And like she was hypnotised, her hips started slowly moving side to side again. Harry's arms slid all the way around her waist, and he leaned in closer. Y/N felt intoxicated on his smell, mixed in with a bit of whatever drink he'd had.

"Tell me the truth, Y/N," he started, moving along with her. "No call, no text. But this entire house full of people just to run into me. Am I right?"

His fingers wandered underneath her top, pressing lightly at her belly. Y/N contained her groan but let her head fall back into the crook of his neck.

"Only threw this party for me, didn't you?"

Y/N turned around to face him, and she could tell he was just as turned on. She leaned in close, seeing how far she could go, and then her tongue shot out to lick against his jaw. Harry's breath hitched, and Y/N revelled in it.

"You know me so well. Why did you come, Harry?"

Harry's hands slid up her body to her neck. He put a bit of pressure, and Y/N's eyes almost rolled back, but then he went higher up and pressed her cheeks together, making her lips pout.

"Same reason as you I guess. Missed this little bratty mouth." He released her. "That's exactly what you are, right? A little brat, just dying for a bit of attention from me."

Y/N tugged on his shirt. "I could go to anyone..." she started, but he did not let her finish. He grabbed her hand, pulling her with him down the hallway into her room. As the door shut, Y/N was slammed against it, and Harry's mouth was on hers.

Y/N groaned into his mouth as he moved his tongue around dominantly, and bit her lip before releasing her.

"Don’t even think about touching anyone else" he spat out. "You understand?"

Y/N nodded. She was a bit too far gone in her horny state of mind to care about any self respect she had.

"Say it," Harry said. He lightly slapped her cheek with his palm. "Missed this, didn't you? Missed being roughed around by me."

She kept her head nodding. "Yes, Harry, fuck. I'm yours, just please..."

"God, Y/N, already begging. What do you want, hm?" Harry's fingers reached inside her pants. The moment they made contact with her wet, bare pussy, he groaned.

"Fuck, baby. I missed how wet you get." He slipped one finger inside Y/N, and she felt like she was going to burst with bliss. She moved her hips around his finger, head turning away from him, eyes shut tight. It was just one finger, but she felt full and achy already.

"More, please..." she whined, and Harry chuckled meanly. He put another finger inside her and Y/N let out a lewd moan.

“This what you want?” Harry growled, burying his fingers deep inside her until the heel of his palm was pressed tight against her clit. He rotated his hand, slow and deliberate.

Y/N nearly screamed. “Harry—oh my God!" She couldn’t do much but revel in the pleasure rolling through her body. It wasn’t enough. She needed more.

Y/N reached down and pushed his hand away from her pussy. Without a word, Harry brought his fingers up to her mouth, tapping gently at her lips.

“Open up,” he said.

Her mouth parted automatically, and he slid his fingers between her lips. “Suck.”

She wrapped around them, sucking greedily, tasting herself. Harry's free hand came up to wrap around her neck, squeezing possessively. His voice was strained.

“Fuck, Y/N. You’re so hot. You know that?”

She sucked harder in response, her eyes fluttering shut, needing him in every way.

“I want you,” she whimpered around his fingers, but he understood. He always did.

“You want my cock? Think you deserve it?”

“I’ve been good,” she mumbled.

“Yeah? But can you take it?” he taunted, pulling his fingers from her mouth, eyes dark.

“I can. I will. Harry, please, I’ll do anything. I’ll beg...”

He clapped a hand over her mouth, pressing her back against the wall. “Shut up. I got it,” he hissed. “You’re just needy for my cock, aren’t you? Can’t think about anything else.”

Y/N shook her head frantically, tears of frustration starting to gather in the corners of her eyes. Harry unbuckled his jeans, shoving them down with one hand. Y/N groaned at the sight of his bulge, thick, hard, perfect, and reached for him instantly.

Her hand wrapped around the base of his cock and she let out a shaky breath, eyes fluttering shut. She forgot how big he was, how heavy, how deep he could reach inside he, and she needed him now.

Harry leaned in, pressing his forehead against hers as she stroked him once, then twice.

“Hands off,” he warned, voice rough.

She let out a whine of protest.

“You only touch what I tell you to.”

He grabbed both her wrists and pinned them behind her back, pressing her harder into the door. Harry pumped himself a few times and lined himself up to her entrance. Y/N felt like she was on a rollercoaster, waiting for the peak to happen. She felt him nudge her hole with his cock and she jerked forward at the contact.

When he finally pushed in, he was kinder than she'd thought. He didn't slam all the way in, but tortured her with a slow, increasing pace. When he pushed all the way in, Harry slammed his palm on the door behind Y/N.

"Fuck!" he exclaimed. His forehead came to rest next to hers, and he stayed still for a second, buried deep inside her. Y/N felt like she had passed out for a second. She didn't think she'd ever felt this full, even they fucked before. She moved her hips around and another noise drew out from Harry.

He pulled back and put his hand against her stomach, pressing lightly. "Fuck, I can feel my cock in here, baby. So deep inside you."

"Oh my god," Y/N whined at the visual. "So fucking deep, feel you everywhere."

Harry suddenly pulled out and jerked his hips forward. Y/N cried out. "Your little belly just swells up with me in it, doesn't it? Tiny little hole you've got. I can tell you didn't let anyone else in here," he said and bought his fingers to strum on her clit.

"Just you," Y/N trembled. "Harry, I'm going to cum," she cried. He said nothing, just increased his strokes. His cock bullied in and out of her pussy which opened up for him nice and easy with how wet she was. The sound of the door rattling behind them accompanied the squelch of his hips snapping at her soaking pussy.

Y/N came suddenly and all at once. She went completely silent and she felt something burst within her. Her eyes rolled back and her head tilted up against the door. Harry continued to hammer in and her pussy squeezed him tight as she came.

Her orgasm only made him go harder. Y/N's hip bone hurt with how hard she was being pressed into the door behind. Harry continued rubbing her clit, and Y/N felt faint. "It's a lot," she whined. "Too big, I can't take it anymore Harry..."

"Aw is it too much for your cunt? Just want your own and be done, huh?"

"Noooo," she cried.

"Bad luck, Y/N. I haven't had your cunt in a month. Gonna have my fill now." He continued thrusting, and Y/N felt the rise of another orgasm.

"Please," she pleaded, not sure if she was begging him to go harder or easier on her.

"You gonna cum again?"

Y/N shook her head no — even though her body said something completely different.

"You will. I wanna feel your cunt squeeze my big cock again. She’s so good to me even after all this time away. You can pretend all you want to hate me, Y/N, but no doubt your little wet pussy missed me a lot."

Y/N was crying now. Tears rolled down her cheeks. This is what she wanted — but she forgot how good, how full, how too much it felt. How deep he got inside her, how her entire body seemed to open up just for him.

Harry periodically slammed his fist against the door. Y/N was sure people knew what was going on behind it — with the way the moans were ripping out of her, the way Harry was fucking them out of her so clearly.

She felt the bubble pop again and she screamed — only to be silenced by Harry stuffing something in her mouth. It was her underwear, she hadn’t even realised when he’d snapped it off her, but it muffled her screams and loud moaning.

Harry was breathing hard and deep. He pulled out of her, and Y/N saw his cock glistening with her juices. She drooled at the sight of his red, angry, pulsing tip.

Harry put his hands on her shoulders and pushed her down to her knees. He tapped her cheek with his wet cock, and Y/N opened her mouth.

"I’m gonna cum in your other hole so you can swallow me into your belly, okay, baby?"

Y/N nodded and opened up wide. Harry grabbed her underwear out of her mouth and threw it behind him. He tapped his cock on her tongue, and a deep moan left him. Y/N wrapped her lips around his cock and moved her head up and down his length. Harry thrust his hips in time with her movements, and in no time, she felt his warm cum flood her mouth.

There was a lot of him, but Harry pressed her mouth down all the way to the base of his cock — and she had no choice but to swallow it all. She kept sucking and trying to lick, she wanted to please him as much as he had her, and she knew what he liked.

Harry pulled out of her, a string of saliva connected his cock to her mouth. He pulled her up, and Y/N was barely able to function with how hard she'd been fucked. Harry let her fall against him.

"My good girl," he cooed, and kissed over her face. "I missed you so much," he said, the roughness leaving his voice. Y/N felt her heart flutter. He lifted her up and she wrapped her legs around him, to walk her to her bed. Harry put Y/N in, and her eyelids fluttered with tiredness.

"Where do we go from here, H?" Y/N mumbled as Harry pulled the covers over her.

"Well for starters, party over. I'm gonna throw everyone out. And next time you want to get fucked just find me, okay?"

Y/N smiled. "Are you gonna stay?"

Harry's face fell. "I don't know, might not be the best idea."

Y/N frowned. "You can't leave after you just fucked me full."

He needed no convincing. Harry nodded. "Fine, baby. Go to sleep. I'll be back."

Y/N snuggled deeper into bed, feeling the soreness all over her body. She knew she was gonna wake up with his head in between her legs.

****

this was so hard to smash out for some reason. writing smut is still a bit weird for me lol but anyway hope this was fun!! i couldn't stop thinking of this scene. we love a bit of mean dom h. 🤭

also idk if people who wanted to be tagged for ewh want to be tagged for all posts. so let me know if you want to be tagged for all posts!

[pleasantlycrazyworld]

This is so self-inserted but don't mind me

Apparently when i crash out i write lmao

Frank castle is my new love at this point so please send in request! I'm also taking request for bucky barnes and Logan howlett still <3

Frank Castle dealing with you while you study

Frank hates when you overwork yourself, so he started to just observe you.

It started small he would come home at an actual reasonable time for once and you were at the kitchen table working away. The first thing that crosses his mind is Oh shit it must be serious. You warned him when you first started seeing each other that if you were at the kitchen table that meant you had a huge amount of work to do. He's never seen it in action before but now that he's face to face with it...he kind of wishes he was still out working.

NOT THAT HE DOESN'T WANT TO SUPPORT YOU! but at first, you scared the shit out of him with how intense you were working. You had such an angry look on your face, and music was blaring in your headphones, loud enough he could hear the song from where he was standing and loud enough he was concerned for your hearing.

Usually, you raced to him to give him some sort of affection when he got home, now you haven't even lifted your head to meet his eyes. He approached you in the same way he would approach an injured animal.

"Babydoll? Have you been working since you got home?" He cringed at the question as his eyes drift to the clock on the microwave to see that you got home six hours ago. Thankfully his eyes went back to your form in time to see you nod weakly. A harsh sigh tumble past his lips before he could stop himself.

You were fearful that he was going to just close your laptop but instead he walked behind you and opened the fridge. Silently he started to dance around the kitchen and began a quick dinner he knew you'd enjoy and that would help fuel his dolls body.

He does eventually close your laptop, but it is in exchange for a plate of food. Sitting next to you, he eats in near silence as he listens to you rant about your workload and how overwhelmed and unsupported you feel with your college. He nods and gives his short phrases of support that let you know he hasn't tuned you out as he starts to mentally plan a study set up for you.

The following day, you had the day off and had originally planned to just spend the day cooped up in the house working, but Frank had very different plans. He took the entire day off and woke you up with coffee. "I have a few errands to run, sweetheart, nothing crazy, but I was wondering if you could come with me?" He nods along with your protest and mumbles a few I knows before justifying his request. "I know you're drowning in work right now, but you know I don't know everything I need to pick up at the pharmacy and that lady always gives me those dirty looks that you hate...she doesn't do that with you there." He gives his best puppy eyes and squeezes your hips softly to help sway you into agreeing, and he even "agrees" for it to just be the one quick errand.

But...since you're already out might as well get some lunch right? Neither of you had breakfast, and now it's nearly 1. "We need to eat, sweetheart," he says as he pulls into the diners parking lot.

The two of you get home around 3, and you were pissed. He handled the attitude you gave him since he took you out pretty early in the morning, but he was pleased with himself. He knew you got fresh air, some exercise and an actual meal so he backs off for you to work until dinner...which will be at a responsible time he'd be damned if you didn't eat until midnight again.

But this man is a man of observation through and through. He will just wander into the kitchen every few hours to make sure you are still breathing and not having a breakdown. Usually, he is met with you in the same position he left you in the last time he checked in but sometimes there is clear frustration on your face, and those times are when he softly closes the laptop and asks for some attention. "Baby, all I'm asking is 15 minutes. C'mon, how is a 15-minute cuddle break going to kill you?"

He's sneaky. He knows your soft spot for him, and he uses that to his advantage.

And when you are done with all the work and have passed the class, he rewards you in the only way he can, and all of the sudden all the work is worth it when you can hear his soft whispers of praise throughout the night.

[faebled-stories]

Under The Radar

Kinkvember Day 29: Public

Soloist IU (Lee Jieun) Ft. Kang Seulgi x Male reader

20k words

AN: Later than usual, sorry I had a headache the entire day today, this one is roughly edited sorry, but I still got this out woohoo. Love you guys, one day left... ����💖

Jieun had always felt like her life was carefully mapped out, each step following a script written for her by others. As one of the nation’s most beloved soloists, adored for her pure and innocent image, she was the embodiment of grace and poise on stage and in the public eye. But behind the polished smiles and carefully chosen words, she sometimes felt constrained—like she was living in a glass box, admired but not fully free. That was until a few years ago, when she met you.

Your lively personality and unapologetic zest for life awakened something in her. You encouraged her to step outside the lines and embrace the messy, unpredictable beauty of living. Slowly, Jieun began to let go of the perfection she’d always strived for, finding joy in spontaneity. Yet, even as she embraced this new side of herself, she held onto the things that kept her grounded: late-night talks with you where she felt safe to share her deepest thoughts, quiet moments where she could just be Jieun—not the idol, not the “nation’s little sister,” but simply herself.

Beneath the city’s vibrant glow, where skyscrapers kissed the heavens and neon lights flickered like electric veins pulsing through the night, you and Jieun thrived. The rhythm of the city mirrored your love—dynamic, electric, and alive with possibility. Every glance exchanged felt like a spark igniting a wildfire, and every touch carried a magnetism that transformed the mundane into magic. Together, you created your own world, one that was equal parts adventure and intimacy.

Weekends became your playground for discovery. The city, vast and brimming with hidden treasures, turned into a labyrinth of adventure for you both. From wandering dimly lit alleys to finding secret rooftop bars where you could escape the world, every moment felt like an escape from the spotlight that followed her. Lazy mornings often gave way to spontaneous bike rides along the waterfront, the scent of saltwater mingling with the aroma of street food from nearby vendors. Evenings carried their own kind of thrill—dance lessons that left you tangled in laughter, or sipping whimsical cocktails under a canopy of stars, the city below fading into a comforting blur.

On one such afternoon, golden sunlight streamed through the windows, wrapping the living room in a cozy warmth. Jieun sat cross-legged on the couch, engrossed in a book, her fingers absentmindedly tracing the edge of her sweater. The peaceful quiet between you was comforting, but your attention kept drifting from the book in your hands to her, captivated by the way her hair glowed in the light or the subtle curve of her lips when she smiled at a passage.

Eventually, she looked up, catching your gaze. Her lips curled into a teasing smile. “You’ve been staring at me for a while now,” she said softly, closing her book. “Is there something you want to say?”

You chuckled, leaning back into the cushions. “Just admiring you.”

She laughed, a soft, musical sound. “You’re sweet,” she murmured, though her tone carried a playful edge. For a moment, her expression softened, but then a sly glint flickered in her eyes. She stood, brushing her hands down her sweater as if bracing herself, before moving to the nearby shelf. After rummaging briefly, she turned back toward you with something hidden behind her back, her cheeks slightly pink.

“What’s that?” you asked, curiosity piqued as she approached with a playful bounce in her step.

She pulled her hands forward, revealing a sleek, lacy garment that dangled lightly from her fingers. Your eyebrows lifted in surprise as the soft material glinted faintly in the sunlight, but what caught your eye even more was the small, discreet remote next to it. “I got these a while ago,” she began, her voice steady but carrying a hint of shyness. “I thought they might be fun. For us.”

It took a second for you to fully register what she was holding, and when you did, your grin widened. “Wow. You’ve been holding out on me.”

She rolled her eyes, though her blush deepened. “I wasn’t sure if it was… too much,” she admitted, glancing down at the garment briefly before meeting your eyes again. “But I figured if anyone would enjoy this with me, it’d be you.”

You reached out, letting your fingers graze the fabric. It was impossibly soft, and the hint of what it could do made your heart race. “I’d say you know me pretty well,” you said, your voice low.

Her lips curved into a smile, her confidence building as she noticed your reaction. “I wouldn’t have brought it up if I didn’t,” she said, her tone warming. “I thought it might make the day a little more… interesting.”

“Interesting is one way to put it,” you replied, your grin widening as your gaze flicked to the remote in her other hand. “Are you sure you’re ready for this?”

She smirked, leaning in slightly. “I was born ready.”

You laughed, watching as she turned and sauntered toward the bedroom. “Give me a minute,” she called over her shoulder, her tone light and teasing.

While Jieun disappeared into the other room, you let your mind wander, the anticipation building with every passing second. You could hear faint rustling as she moved around, and the idea of what was to come sent a thrill through you. The little remote rested in your palm, its smooth design deceptively innocent. When she finally returned, she stood in the doorway, her cheeks tinged pink but her expression playful. Her skirt fell naturally into place, and she smoothed it over her hips, her movements casual yet deliberate.

“Well?” she asked, stepping closer, her tone light but with a hint of shyness. “What do you think?”

“Beautiful,” you murmured, letting your gaze linger on her. There was something about her mix of confidence and vulnerability that made her all the more captivating. Reaching out, you pulled her gently toward you until she was standing between your knees, your hands resting lightly on her hips.

She tilted her head, her smirk returning as her shyness melted away. “Even like this?” she teased, lifting her skirt just enough to give you a glimpse. The delicate lace clung perfectly, and you couldn’t help but grin.

“Especially like this,” you replied, your voice dropping slightly as your hands slid along her thighs. Then, unable to resist, you leaned forward and gave her a light, teasing spank. The soft smack made her yelp in surprise before she broke into laughter, her hand playfully swatting at your shoulder.

“You’re impossible,” she said, shaking her head though her smile lingered. Adjusting her skirt again with exaggerated composure, she added, “I hope you know this isn’t just about you. I’m supposed to enjoy this too.”

“Oh, trust me,” you said, holding up the remote with a mischievous grin. “I fully intend to make this enjoyable. For both of us.”

Her eyes flicked to the remote, and she raised an eyebrow, her lips curving into a smile. “Just… don’t go crazy, okay?” she said, her tone a mix of playful and serious. “I’d like to actually get through the day without falling apart.”

You leaned in, brushing a quick kiss to her forehead before grinning mischievously. “No promises.”

She let out a huff, half-laughing as she leaned into you. “You’re trouble,” she murmured, her hands resting on your shoulders.

“And you love it,” you replied, wrapping an arm around her waist as you stood, pulling her closer.

-----

With the impromptu game set, you and Jieun ventured into the city’s renowned aquarium. The grand entrance glimmered under the soft evening light, its glass panels reflecting hues of pink and gold from the setting sun. Inside, the world transformed into an ethereal underwater dreamscape. The soft blue glow from the massive tanks bathed everything in a tranquil light, the murmur of water and faint sound of bubbles creating an intimate, almost otherworldly ambiance.

Jieun’s excitement was infectious, lighting up the dimly lit halls of the aquarium. Her steps were quick and light, her body practically vibrating with energy. Her delicate fingers brushed the cool glass of the tanks as she leaned in close, her breath fogging the surface slightly. Her eyes, wide with wonder, tracked vibrant coral reefs and schools of neon fish darting through the water like streaks of living paint. She let out a soft gasp of delight as a jellyfish floated by, its translucent form undulating gracefully under the soft tank lights.

“Look at this one,” she said, her voice tinged with awe as she pointed at a tiny, vibrant seahorse gripping a piece of coral. Her lips curved into a smile that lit up her face, her laughter like the tinkling of wind chimes as she moved from tank to tank, her hair swaying gently with each turn of her head.

At a tank displaying sleek, undulating eels, Jieun leaned closer, her nose almost touching the glass. The bluish light cast a soft glow over her features, accentuating the delicate curve of her jaw and the soft pink of her cheeks. You couldn’t help but admire the pure joy radiating from her as she watched the creatures glide effortlessly through the water.

You leaned close to her ear, your breath warm against her skin. “Hey, Jieun,” you whispered conspiratorially, “Did you know some eels can electrocute you, even without touching?”

She straightened, her brows knitting in skepticism as she turned to you, her lips parting slightly in question. “That can’t be—”

Before she could finish, you pressed the remote discreetly in your pocket. A soft hum filled the air, unnoticed by anyone but her. Her body stiffened almost imperceptibly, her fingers tightening on the edge of the tank as her breath hitched. A gasp, soft and sharp, escaped her lips, her expression shifting into something between surprise and restrained pleasure.

Her wide eyes snapped to you, a deep pink flush blooming across her cheeks and spreading down her neck. The faint glow from the tank made the color even more vivid, contrasting with the cool light surrounding her. “Honey!” she hissed, her voice barely above a whisper but trembling with emotion. Her free hand instinctively flew to your arm, gripping it for support as her knees threatened to wobble.

Her gaze darted around nervously, checking if anyone nearby had noticed. Thankfully, the dim aquarium lighting and the scattered visitors provided just enough cover for her to attempt to compose herself. “You didn’t!” she whispered, her tone a mix of disbelief and something unspoken that made her voice falter slightly.

“Oh, I did,” you replied with an innocent grin, your eyes twinkling with mischief as you took in the slight tremor in her stance and the way her lips parted as her breath quickened. Her body shifted subtly, her thighs pressing together in a fruitless attempt to temper the sensations coursing through her.

Her glare lacked bite, her lips twitching as though she were suppressing a smile. “You’re impossible,” she said, her voice laced with frustration but softened by a tinge of amusement. She nudged your arm weakly, her movements betraying her distraction as another soft gasp escaped her lips.

“Impossible?” you teased, leaning closer so your voice was only for her. “I’d say I’m creative.”

Jieun bit her lip, her eyes narrowing as she tried to shoot you a reprimanding look, but the way her body shivered, her hand gripping your arm tighter, betrayed the effect you were having on her. “If we get caught,” she whispered, her voice trembling as she fought to keep it steady, “I swear I’ll—”

“You’ll what?” you interrupted, your grin widening as you watched her cheeks grow impossibly redder.

She let out a soft laugh, shaking her head slightly as she glanced back at the tank, her reflection in the glass showing her flushed face and glistening eyes. “I’ll think of something,” she murmured, her voice low and edged with playful defiance.

Her eyes narrowed, but the playful gleam in them betrayed her. Even as she straightened and tried to focus on the tank, her posture remained tense, her body alive with the anticipation of your next move.

You waited, letting the vibrations continue just long enough to see her fingers grip the edge of the tank a little tighter, her breaths coming faster. Her hips shifted almost imperceptibly as she fought to steady herself. Just when you could tell she was teetering on the edge, her lips parting in a soft gasp, you turned the vibrations off.

Her eyes shot to yours, wide with a mixture of relief and frustration. She opened her mouth to say something, but the words didn’t come. Instead, she bit her lip, her cheeks burning as she gave you a look that promised retribution.

The magical ambiance of the aquarium heightened every sensation. As you moved from exhibit to exhibit, the low lighting, soft hum of water, and distant murmurs of other visitors created an intimate atmosphere that made the teasing all the more thrilling. Near the penguin enclosure, as she watched the adorable creatures waddle and dive, you flicked the remote again. The gentle vibration coursed through her, causing her to stifle a giggle and clutch your arm for support. She leaned into you, her breath coming faster, and whispered, “I swear, if you don’t stop…”

But you could tell she didn’t mean it. The way she bit her lip, her cheeks rosy and her eyes darting nervously around the room, spoke volumes. Her whispered threats of payback only spurred you on. You waited until she was engrossed again, then turned the vibrations up, her knees slightly buckling as she gripped your arm tightly.

“Honey…!” she whispered, her voice trembling with desperation. This time, her body trembled slightly as the sensations built. You could feel her grip tightening on you, her breaths coming in shallow gasps. Just as her lips parted and her eyes fluttered closed, you turned it off again.

Her sharp intake of breath told you everything. “I hate you,” she hissed, her voice low and shaky as she tried to regain her composure. But the look in her eyes betrayed her—she didn’t hate it at all.

The grand glass tunnel beneath the shark tank offered the perfect backdrop for the next round. The sharks glided silently overhead, their massive forms cutting through the water with serene power. Rays and smaller fish swirled around them, creating a mesmerizing display. Jieun stood in quiet awe, her face tilted up to watch the majestic creatures.

You saw your opportunity. Turning the vibrations up slightly, you watched as her breath hitched. She clutched the railing, her fingers whitening as she tried to steady herself. A soft moan escaped her before she quickly covered her mouth, her wide eyes darting to yours in a mix of panic and thrill.

“You’re… impossible,” she whispered, her voice trembling as she leaned closer to you, seeking support while the vibrations coursed through her body.

You leaned down, your breath warm against her ear. “I’m counting on you to keep it together,” you murmured, your voice low and teasing. She shivered at your words, her body pressing into yours as the tension mounted.

This time, you kept the vibrations steady, letting them build as her body tensed against you. Her breathing grew faster, her hips shifting subtly as her grip on the railing tightened. You could feel her pressing closer to you, her soft, breathy moans muffled as she buried her face in your arm.

“Almost there…” you whispered, the vibrations intensifying slightly. Her head tilted back, her lips parting as her eyes fluttered shut. Just as she reached the peak, her entire body trembling, you turned it off.

Her eyes snapped open, and the frustration on her face was palpable. “Babe!” she hissed, her voice low and desperate. But there was no hiding the way her body trembled, her thighs pressing together as she struggled to compose herself. “You’re the worst.”

“Am I?” you replied with a sly grin, brushing her hair from her flushed face. “You seem to be having fun.”

As the day went on, Jieun’s neediness became more apparent. Her fingers would linger on your arm, her steps closer, her voice softer and tinged with a breathless edge. She whispered pleas between exhibits, her tone wavering as she begged for relief. But you kept her on the edge, turning the vibrations on and off just as she reached the brink, her soft whimpers and frustrated glances fueling your mischievous delight.

By the time you reached the dolphin show, Jieun’s restraint was hanging by a fragile thread. Her flushed cheeks and slightly unsteady steps betrayed just how much you had pushed her to the edge. Every teasing pulse left her trembling, her breath shallow, her glassy eyes flickering between the vibrant display of dolphins and the knowing smirk on your face. The public setting only heightened the stakes, her need battling against her desperate resolve to remain composed.

You had chosen a discreet spot in the far corner of the audience, away from the densest part of the crowd. The dim lighting and the vantage point gave you just enough cover while still leaving the thrill of being in public fully intact. The murmur of excited conversations and the occasional splash of water set the scene as the dolphins began their acrobatics, their synchronized movements drawing cheers and applause from the crowd.

Jieun’s posture was rigid, her thighs pressed tightly together as she clung to your arm. The vibrations had been off for just long enough to let her think she might have a moment to regain control, her body settling into a tentative calm. But you weren’t about to let her settle.

With a subtle flick of your thumb, you activated the remote in your pocket. The sudden pulse coursed through her body like a shockwave. She stiffened immediately, her nails biting into your arm as her breath hitched audibly. Her wide eyes darted to yours, a mix of shock and desperation flashing in their depths.

“Please…” she whispered, her voice trembling, her cheeks flushing even deeper as her thighs pressed closer together. You could feel her quivering against you, her grip tightening as she tried to compose herself.

Leaning in, you murmured against her ear, “Careful. We wouldn’t want anyone to notice, would we?” Your tone was low and teasing, the warmth of your breath against her skin making her shudder.

Her lips parted slightly, as if to protest, but no words came—only a soft, shaky exhale that hung in the air. Her body, always so poised and composed, betrayed her now. Her shoulders tensed as the vibrations teased her relentlessly, and her breaths grew shallow, each one hitching faintly as her chest rose and fell in uneven rhythm. The delicate flush on her cheeks deepened, spreading down her neck, and the faintest tremor ran through her legs, which shifted subtly as if trying to relieve the growing tension.

Her fingers dug into your arm, her knuckles whitening as she tried to steady herself. The corners of her lips quivered, caught somewhere between a plea and a suppressed moan, her composure unraveling thread by thread. Her eyes fluttered closed, her lashes casting soft shadows on her pink-tinged cheeks as her head tilted back slightly. The glow of the aquarium’s lights shimmered on her skin, illuminating the faint sheen of sweat beginning to form on her forehead and along her collarbone.

You waited, savoring the sight of her squirming under the pressure, her body writhing ever so slightly as the vibrations worked their way through her. Her thighs pressed together instinctively, the motion betraying just how impossible her growing need was to ignore.

Then, just as her grip on your arm tightened to the point of desperation and a soft, choked gasp escaped her lips, you clicked the remote and turned the vibrations off.

The effect was immediate and visceral. Her eyes snapped open, wide and filled with disbelief as the absence of sensation left her teetering on the edge, unfulfilled. Frustration flickered across her face, her brows furrowing as she bit her lower lip hard enough to leave a faint mark, her breaths coming fast and ragged. She tried to regain her composure, but the trembling in her hands and the damp glow on her skin gave her away completely.

The show continued, the dolphins leaping gracefully through the air, but Jieun’s focus was entirely on you now. She shot you a pleading glance, her lips trembling as she shifted uncomfortably in her seat. You let her stew for a moment, savoring the anticipation that radiated from her in waves.

Then, as the dolphins reached the peak of their routine, the crowd erupting into cheers, you cranked the vibrations to their highest setting.

Jieun’s entire body arched as the overwhelming sensation took hold, her back curving like a drawn bow. Her nails dug into your arm and thigh, leaving faint crescent moons in your skin as her thighs clamped tightly together, trapping the device against her sensitive center. A muffled scream escaped her lips, raw and desperate, as she buried her face into your shoulder, her cries muted by your presence. Her entire frame trembled violently, each shudder a testament to the waves of pleasure crashing over her, unrelenting and all-consuming.

Her voice broke through in a desperate whisper, trembling and raw. “I—I’m so close,” she gasped, the words barely audible, muffled against your shoulder but heavy with the weight of her release. Her entire body tensed in anticipation, her thighs shaking as the sensation built into a crescendo she couldn’t hold back.

The rhythmic pulsing of her release was unmistakable, her body quaking with each contraction as her slickness soaked through the fabric. You slid your hand down, your fingers expertly finding their way between her trembling thighs. Pressing firmly against her lips through the damp lace, you began to move in slow, deliberate circles, the texture of the soaked fabric adding a tantalizing friction.

Her muffled cries deepened, each one breaking into a fractured gasp as her body surged toward the edge. “Oh fuck! I'm cumming…” she squeeled into your neck, her voice muffled but trembling with raw need. The added pressure of your fingers—so precise, so intentional—was too much for her to withstand. Her body stiffened sharply, her thighs tightening around your hand as her release finally broke free in an electrifying wave.

Her cries grew louder, though still stifled against your shoulder, perfectly masked by the thunderous applause of the crowd in the background. “Oh—oh my God!” she cried out, her voice breaking as her hips bucked slightly against your touch, every movement a mix of surrender and uncontrollable need. The heat radiating from her core was undeniable, her arousal coating your fingertips through the soaked fabric, a slickness that only heightened the intensity of the moment.

You kept your fingers moving in slow, teasing strokes, prolonging her high as her body quaked with aftershocks. Her head pressed deeper into your neck, her damp breath hot against your skin. Each ragged exhale mingled with the faint scent of her release, intoxicating and intimate. Her trembling legs struggled to hold her weight as she clung to you for support, her grip unyielding as she rode out every last ripple of pleasure.

When her trembling began to subside, you slowly withdrew your hand, feeling her thighs relax just enough to let you pull away. Her body sagged against yours, utterly spent, her flushed face damp with perspiration. The faint scent of her arousal lingered in the air, mingling with the aquatic freshness of the aquarium. It was intoxicating, an intimate mix of her release and the soft, saline tang of the water, creating a unique blend that made the moment feel even more charged.

You lifted your hand slightly, showing her the glistening sheen that coated your fingers. The dim blue light from the tanks reflected off the slickness, catching her attention immediately.

Her cheeks deepened to a fiery red as her wide eyes locked onto your hand. “What are you…” she whispered, her voice trembling with a mix of mortification and fascination, her gaze unable to look away.

Without breaking eye contact, you smirked and reached out, brushing your slick fingers along the curve of her neck. The sticky warmth left a faint, glistening trail on her soft skin. The subtle scent of her arousal, so potent and personal, seemed to intensify as it mingled with her perfume and the humid air of the aquarium. Leaning in, your lips hovered just above the mark you’d made. “Look at you,” you murmured softly, your voice a low tease filled with admiration. “So beautiful like this.”

You began placing deliberate kisses along the line you had left, your lips and tongue tracing the faint stickiness as you marked her further. Her taste lingered faintly, salty and sweet, an intimate reminder of her vulnerability. Her head tilted instinctively, granting you access as you latched onto the soft skin at her collarbone. You started sucking gently, savoring the way her body responded, before increasing the intensity to leave a deeper mark. The scrape of your teeth against her skin elicited a soft whimper, her voice muffled as her hands clung tightly to your shirt, desperate to steady herself against the overwhelming sensations.

The warmth of your breath against her neck, coupled with the dampness from your kisses, sent fresh shivers through her. Her gasps grew more pronounced, each one trembling as you continued to leave small, purposeful marks, your teeth grazing her sensitive skin. The combination of your mouth on her and the scent of her release still faint in the air heightened her arousal once more.

Pulling back slightly, you met her gaze. Her eyes were glazed with satisfaction, her lips parted as she tried to steady her breathing. The flush of her cheeks spread to her neck, a beautiful testament to the intensity of the moment.

“You’re the worst,” she whispered shakily, though the way her fingers tightened their grip on your shirt told a different story. The words were barely audible, her voice a mix of bashfulness and lingering delight.

“Am I?” you teased, brushing your thumb lightly over one of the marks you’d left. “You didn’t seem to mind earlier.”

Her lips parted, as if to respond, but no words came. Instead, her gaze dropped for a moment, her cheeks flushing deeper. Her fingers gripped your shirt tightly, and when her eyes lifted to meet yours again, they were filled with an unspoken acknowledgment. The way her body pressed subtly closer, her breath hitching slightly, was all the confirmation you needed. She wanted to protest—but she knew you were right.

Your smirk softened as you lowered your head to place one last lingering kiss on her neck, letting your lips trail over the faint heat of her flushed skin. Her body shivered under your touch, a quiet gasp escaping her as she leaned into you, her silent agreement speaking volumes. When you finally pulled back, her eyes remained fixed on yours, a mixture of embarrassment, desire, and reluctant surrender shimmering in their depths.

The applause marking the end of the show broke through the moment, drawing both of you back into your surroundings. You stood, reaching out to help her to her feet. Her legs wobbled slightly, the remnants of her release still evident in her trembling. She leaned into you, her fingers lacing tightly with yours as she rested her head briefly against your shoulder.

Guiding her out into the glowing serenity of the aquarium, you felt the quiet buzz of her lingering arousal. Though she remained silent, her hand squeezed yours firmly, her flushed cheeks and the slight curve of her lips betraying just how much she’d enjoyed every moment.

-----

After that exhilarating time at the aquarium, the sexual tension between you and Jieun only seemed to grow as you entered the cozy, dimly lit restaurant for your dinner reservation. The intimate space was filled with the soft clinking of glasses and hushed conversations, creating a warm and romantic atmosphere that wrapped around you both like a shared secret.

You pulled out a chair for her, and she sat down gracefully, though the restless shifting in her movements betrayed the simmering anticipation from earlier. The low lighting cast a warm glow on her flushed cheeks, the remnants of your teasing evident in the slight tremor of her hands as she adjusted her skirt. Once the waiter approached, you discreetly activated the vibrator with a small press of the remote, watching as Jieun stifled a gasp, her body jerking slightly in her seat as she struggled to keep her composure.

“I’ll have the carbonara, p-please,” she managed, her voice catching slightly as her hand gripped the edge of the table. She shot you a look—half playful mischief, half veiled threat—as her cheeks burned with a deeper blush.

“And I’ll have the ribeye, medium please, thank you,” you said to the waiter, your tone steady as if nothing were amiss. You handed over the menus, feeling Jieun’s heated gaze on you.

Once the waiter stepped away, she leaned forward slightly, her voice low and laced with mock frustration. “You’re enjoying this way too much.”

Feigning innocence, you leaned back, sipping your water as you smirked. “Me? I’m just here to enjoy a nice dinner with my beautiful girlfriend.”

Her eyes narrowed, but a sly smile tugged at the corners of her lips. “If this is dinner, I’m scared to see what dessert is like,” she murmured, her tone teasing despite the tremor in her voice.

The appetizers arrived shortly after—a colorful spread of bruschetta, stuffed mushrooms, and crispy calamari. Unable to resist pushing her further, you pressed the button three times, setting the vibrations to their maximum intensity. Jieun froze mid-reach for a piece of bruschetta, her eyes widening as the sudden jolt surged through her body.

Her breath hitched audibly, and a barely contained whimper escaped her lips. She immediately crossed her legs tightly, her muscles tensing as she fought to keep herself from reacting. “Oh god,” she whispered sharply, her voice trembling, though the flicker of excitement in her eyes betrayed her.

“What’s wrong, babe?” you asked casually, your smirk widening as you took a bite of bruschetta. “You look… tense.”

Her body shifted subtly, her thighs pressing together as the vibrations continued to pulse relentlessly. She bit her lip, trying to suppress the small, breathy moans that threatened to escape. “You’re… impossible,” she muttered, her voice barely above a whisper as her cheeks deepened to a scarlet hue. Her eyes darted nervously around the room, scanning for any sign that someone might notice her squirming.

Each movement only seemed to intensify the sensations coursing through her, the damp heat between her legs growing as her body became more sensitive. The risk of being discovered sent a thrilling shiver through her, heightening the tension. Every pulse of the vibrator seemed to echo in her mind, weaving into the restaurant’s ambiance of soft clinking silverware and low murmurs. The rich aroma of garlic and basil mingled with her heightened awareness, making everything feel overwhelming.

Her breaths became shallow, her body trembling as she leaned forward, gripping her utensils like a lifeline. She brought a bite of bruschetta to her lips, her teeth sinking into the crispy bread as a soft, involuntary moan escaped her, barely audible beneath the hum of conversation around you.

“B-babe,” she whispered, her voice breaking slightly as she leaned closer to you. “You’re going to regret this.”

“Is that so?” you murmured, your voice teasingly low as your fingers tapped the remote again, adjusting the rhythm. Her body jolted, a quiet whimper slipping out as she squeezed her thighs together, her legs trembling under the table.

By the time the main course arrived, Jieun’s composure was fraying. Her carbonara sat untouched for a moment as she squirmed in her seat, her breaths coming in soft, uneven gasps. Every flick of the switch sent new waves of pleasure rippling through her, her mind spinning with the relentless teasing. The tablecloth concealed her trembling legs, but the way her fingers clutched the edge of the table betrayed how close she was to unraveling.

When the waiter returned to pour your wine, you pressed the button one final time, holding it steady at the highest setting. Jieun’s eyes widened as the relentless vibrations surged through her, pushing her closer and closer to the edge. Her body arched slightly, her lips parting in a choked gasp. She gripped the table with one hand, her other reaching for your arm under the table, her nails digging into your skin as her body shuddered.

“Babe,” she whimpered, her voice trembling with desperation. Her flushed face turned toward you, her glassy eyes meeting yours as her lips quivered. “P-please…”

You leaned closer, your voice low and teasing. “Please what, Jieun?” you whispered, your words brushing against her ear. The subtle warmth of your breath sent another shiver racing through her body, her grip on your arm tightening as if anchoring herself against the rising tide within her.

Her breaths were shallow and rapid, her body trembling as she clutched your arm tightly. The tension that had been building throughout the evening left her teetering on the brink, her thighs pressing together instinctively as if to find relief. Her lips parted slightly, a desperate moan threatening to slip free, but she caught herself, biting down on her lower lip to suppress the sound.

The relentless vibrations pushed her closer and closer to the edge. Her eyes fluttered closed as her body tensed, her breaths coming in soft gasps. You could feel it—see it—how close she was. Her thighs quivered, her hands gripping the table as the heat pooling between her legs became unbearable.

And just when you knew she was milliseconds away, you pressed the button and turned the vibrations off.

Her body jolted slightly at the sudden stillness, her eyes snapping open in wide, glassy disbelief. Her head whipped toward you, and for a moment, her parted lips and flushed cheeks told you she was at a loss for words. “No! fuck” she stammered, her voice hushed and trembling. The abrupt denial of release left her gasping, her chest heaving as her body fought to process the loss.

Her frustration spilled over, visible in the trembling of her hands and the way her thighs clenched reflexively under the table. “Please…” she whispered again, her voice a mix of pleading and incredulous annoyance. Her lips trembled as she bit down on her lower lip, squirming slightly in her seat in a futile attempt to steady herself. The flush on her cheeks deepened, spreading to her neck as she fidgeted, her body betraying how close she had been.

You leaned in casually, brushing your hand across hers on the table. “Not yet,” you murmured, your voice calm and teasing. The soft touch of your fingers sent another wave of heat through her, and her breath hitched audibly, her thighs squeezing together instinctively.

Her chest rose and fell as she exhaled shakily, her frustration now a simmering mix of desire and playful defiance. “I swear to god…” she whispered, her voice unsteady, a blend of pleading and unspoken challenge. Her narrowed gaze locked with yours, the flicker of frustration in her glassy eyes overshadowed by determination and the faintest hint of mischief. “You’re definitely paying for that later,” she added, her voice low and breathless as her lips curved into a sly smile.

You chuckled softly, giving her hand a gentle squeeze as your own smirk widened. “I’m looking forward to it,” you replied, your voice as confident as ever. The tension between you crackled like electricity, heightening every shared glance, every movement. Around you, the hum of the restaurant—the soft clinking of glasses, muted conversations, and bursts of laughter—faded into the background as your shared secret took center stage.

Jieun shifted again, her fingers fidgeting with her napkin as she tried to compose herself. Her restless movements betrayed her inner turmoil, her flushed cheeks and darting gaze revealing the fire you’d stoked within her. She let out a shaky sigh, her lips pressing together as she tilted her head slightly, as if weighing her options. Then, with a deep inhale, she leaned back in her chair, locking eyes with you. In that moment, the frustration in her gaze melted into something bold and daring, her confidence blooming.

As the chatter of other guests swelled around you, she “accidentally” dropped her fork, the metallic clink echoing against the hardwood floor. Without missing a beat, her dark hair fell over her shoulder like a curtain as she leaned forward, a devilish smile playing on her lips. The intensity in her eyes sent a shiver down your spine, her boldness catching you completely off guard.

Before you could react, she slipped gracefully under the table, her movements smooth and deliberate as if choreographed. The world above seemed to blur into the background—the laughter, the clinking of glasses, and the muted ambiance becoming mere noise. Your heart skipped a beat, your pulse quickening as she disappeared from view, her mischievous sparkle and the determination in her actions lingering in your mind.

You felt the warmth of her breath brush against your thigh as her fingers trailed up, delicate yet teasing, igniting sparks of anticipation that coursed through your entire body. Each touch was playful and tantalizing, deliberate in a way that made it impossible to focus on anything but her. Your eyes flicked around nervously, half-expecting someone to notice, but the attention of the other diners remained blissfully elsewhere, unaware of the secret unfolding beneath the table.

“You started this,” she murmured from below, her voice a soft, husky purr that sent a thrill racing through you. Her words were both an accusation and a promise, her tone dripping with playful dominance. Her eyes gleamed with mischief, but it was the quiet intensity in her gaze that made your pulse race, your breath catching as her focus returned to the task at hand.

Her fingers danced over the fabric of your pants, the pressure light but enough to make you shift in your seat. The teasing was relentless, her touch sending jolts of pleasure that left you teetering between frustration and raw anticipation. You could feel your body responding eagerly to every movement, the tension coiling tighter in your core as her hand pressed more firmly against you, drawing a soft, involuntary exhale from your lips.

She worked the button of your jeans with infuriating precision, each flick of her fingers heightening the anticipation and drawing out the moment. One button, then another, until she pulled the fabric aside, exposing you to the cool air. The contrast of her warm breath against your heated skin sent a shiver down your spine, the anticipation coiling tighter within you. For a moment, she paused, her lips hovering close, her eyes flickering with mischief and something darker—need.

Her fingers lightly traced along your length, and she inhaled deeply, her movements slow and deliberate. Her lashes fluttered as she closed her eyes, her breathing deepening as she leaned in. You felt the soft brush of her nose against your member as she nuzzled against you, the warmth of her face and the deliberate press of her lips sending sparks through your body.

“Mmm,” she murmured softly, her voice low and almost guttural as she took in your scent. Her nose trailed along you as if she were savoring every inch, and she let out a quiet, shuddering breath. “You smell… so good,” she whispered, her voice trembling slightly with growing arousal.

The wild edge in her tone sent a rush through you, your body responding to the way she seemed to lose herself in the moment. Her cheek brushed against you, her lips ghosting along your length as her hands gripped your thighs for support. You caught the faintest sound of her own breath catching, a quiet, almost needy sigh escaping her as she shifted slightly beneath the table, her thighs pressing together.

Her warm breath continued to fan over you as she rubbed her face against your member, her movements unrestrained and filled with raw intensity. Her actions betrayed how much she was savoring every second as her lips finally parted, pressing a lingering kiss against your leaking tip before taking you into her mouth in one smooth, seamless motion.

The sensation was electrifying. Her mouth was soft, warm, and inviting, her tongue swirling over you with an eager dexterity that left you breathless. The contrast of her earlier wildness and the precision of her movements now made your head spin, the combination of control and abandon driving you closer to the edge with every passing moment.

She worked you deliberately, her rhythm slow at first, as though she wanted to savor every inch of you. Her tongue danced over you, each flick and swirl sending ripples of pleasure coursing through your body. The wet, velvety glide of her mouth was relentless, and you gripped the edge of the table tightly, your knuckles white as you fought to stay composed.

Your breaths came shallow and uneven, your vision narrowing as every nerve in your body focused on the heat and wetness of her mouth. You could feel her shifting below, her body responding to her own rising desire, her muffled hums against you vibrating softly, adding another layer of intensity. The air beneath the table seemed to grow hotter, the raw intimacy of the moment amplified by her unabashed enthusiasm and the heady mix of sensations she created.

She moved with purpose now, her pace quickening slightly as her hands joined in, one holding you steady while the other traced soft, teasing patterns along your thighs. Her tongue worked in perfect harmony with the rhythm of her lips, each motion drawing you closer to the edge. You bit down on the inside of your cheek to stifle the groan that threatened to escape, the urge to let go building with every passing second.

“God,” you whispered under your breath, your voice tight as her name almost slipped from your lips. The tension in your core coiled tighter, your control slipping as the pleasure surged in waves. Her wild, unrestrained energy earlier had stoked the fire, and now her expert attention was fanning it into an inferno.

Just when you thought the intensity couldn’t build any further, her pace quickened. Teasing circles along your inner thigh, her fingers dancing over your skin with maddening precision. The combination of her mouth and touch was overwhelming, and you felt yourself teetering closer and closer to the edge.

Then, footsteps. The sound of the waiter approaching broke through the haze, your heart leaping in sudden panic. You straightened slightly, forcing yourself to meet the waiter’s gaze as he arrived at the table, his polite smile oblivious to the scene unfolding beneath.

“How’s everything, sir?” the waiter asked, his voice neutral but curious as he scanned the table.

“It’s… good,” you managed, your voice tight, almost strangled. Jieun chose that exact moment to take you deeper, her tongue flicking expertly as she hummed softly, the vibration sending a jolt of pleasure that nearly made you lose composure. You felt the faintest smirk against you, her mischief palpable even in the intensity of the moment.

“G-Great, actually. It’s great,” you stammered, barely keeping your voice steady. Your grip on the table tightened as her pace increased, her movements calculated, relentless. The pleasure building inside you was nearly impossible to contain.

The waiter frowned slightly, glancing around. “And your companion? She seems to be absent.”

“She’s… in the bathroom,” you said quickly, your voice strained, barely managing to sound coherent. Jieun’s lips enveloped you completely, her movements deliberate yet bold as she sensed your imminent release. Her tongue pressed firmly against you, her rhythm unwavering as her focus remained locked on driving you to the edge. “She’ll… be back in a minute,” you added, your voice cracking slightly as you gripped the edge of the table harder, the tension within you coiling impossibly tight.

The waiter nodded politely, blissfully unaware of the scene unfolding beneath the table, and walked away, leaving you alone once more. The instant his footsteps faded, the tenuous grip you had on your composure unraveled. Jieun’s pace quickened slightly, her mouth taking you deeper as she worked you with relentless precision, the pleasure crashing over you like a tidal wave.

The first pulse of your climax hit hard, stealing the air from your lungs as your body tensed under her care. A groan escaped your lips, barely stifled, as wave after wave surged through you, each more intense than the last. Jieun held you firmly, her lips sealing tightly around you, her tongue moving skillfully to guide you through the release. Her hands pressed against your thighs, keeping you steady as your body trembled with the force of your orgasm.

She didn’t swallow—not yet. Instead, she held everything in her mouth, her movements slowing but not stopping. Her tongue continued to caress you, her lips applying gentle suction as she gave you a few more deliberate sucks, ensuring she drew out every last drop. The sensation was overwhelming, the combination of her warmth, her unwavering focus, and the lingering sensitivity making your breath hitch as aftershocks rippled through your body.

Jieun’s lips remained around you as she felt you begin to soften in her mouth, her tongue tracing gentle patterns along your length as she eased you through the final pulses of pleasure. Her fingers tightened briefly against your thighs, her movements tender yet precise, her care extending even as your body relaxed under her touch. She tilted her head slightly, her mouth lingering as she savored the intimacy of the moment, her cheeks subtly hollowing to coax out the last remnants of your release.

When she was certain there was nothing more, she eased back slowly, her lips leaving a lingering warmth as she released you. Her tongue flicked over her lips, her eyes glinting with triumph as she looked up at you from beneath the table. Her expression was a mixture of mischief and satisfaction, her confidence evident in the way her gaze held yours.

Your chest heaved as you fought to steady your breathing, your mind spinning from the intensity of the moment. Every nerve in your body felt alive, the sensation of her care and precision still imprinted on your skin. The world around you—the clinking of glasses, the murmur of conversation—slowly came back into focus, though the charged energy between you lingered in the air.

As Jieun rose back to her seat, her cheeks were flushed, her breath steadying after the intensity of the moment. Yet her eyes gleamed with a playful satisfaction that seemed to light her entire face. This was the nation’s “little sister,” beloved for her innocent charm, graceful demeanor, and unassailable purity. But in this moment, Jieun felt more alive than ever—bold, unapologetic, and exhilaratingly free.

Her heart raced as she met your gaze, a mischievous glint flickering in her eyes, the thrill of secrecy igniting her from within. She reveled in the delicious contradiction of it all—the sweet, innocent idol adored by millions daring to indulge in something so wild, so utterly forbidden. For years, she had carried the weight of her pristine image, playing the role that everyone expected of her. But here, beneath the dim lights of the restaurant, she wasn’t IU, the nation’s sweetheart. She was simply Jieun—fearless, audacious, and savoring every electrifying second of freedom.

A rush of exhilaration coursed through her, awakening a side of herself she rarely had the chance to explore. The stakes, the risk, the sheer audacity of her actions—they made her feel untouchable. Each glance, each subtle motion felt like a quiet rebellion against the constraints of her carefully curated life. It was intoxicating, this chance to step outside her own boundaries and shed the mask she’d worn for so long.

Her gaze darted around the room, sharp and calculated, ensuring that no one had noticed her daring move. But the steady thrum of her pulse wasn’t just from the risk of being caught—it was from the power she felt in the moment. Locking eyes with you, her expression shifted to something darker, more wicked, as her lips curved into a daring smile. Her every motion dripped with confidence as she leaned forward, taking control of the situation with a provocative ease that left you speechless.

Then, without breaking eye contact, she parted her lips and let every single drop of your release fall onto her half-eaten carbonara. Her movements were deliberate as she swirled the mixture into the creamy sauce with her fork, the action slow, purposeful, and brimming with challenge. Her gaze didn’t falter, daring you to look away, daring you to stop her. Your heart pounded, your breath catching in your chest as the audacity of her act unfolded before you.

Her pulse quickened, the forbidden nature of the moment sending a rush of heat coursing through her body. She could feel her skin flush, a tingling sensation that started at her neck and crept down her spine. The mixture of shock and arousal on your face fueled her further, empowering her with a heady sense of control. This wasn’t just about defiance—it was about claiming the moment, rewriting the rules of her normally controlled and polished existence.

She brought the first bite to her lips, her fork twisting delicately as the pasta slipped between her teeth. Her quiet hum of satisfaction resonated in the small space between you, and she closed her eyes briefly, savoring the creamy texture, the saltiness of the dish, and the layered sensations that went beyond taste. Her chest rose and fell with each deep breath, the act of eating transforming into something much more deliberate, intimate.

The plate wasn’t finished with that single bite. With slow, precise movements, she reached for a slice of bread, her fingers grazing the crust as she wiped it across the plate. The sauce clung to the bread, and her hand hovered briefly, giving you a moment to take in every detail. Her thumb brushed the corner of her lips, catching a stray drop, and she brought it to her mouth, her tongue flicking out to savor the taste. The deliberate sensuality of her actions left you breathless, your throat tightening as you watched her savor every moment.

Her moan, soft and nearly inaudible, carried a weight that rippled through you. Her lashes fluttered as she took another bite of the bread, her eyes flickering between her plate and your stunned expression. The air around you felt heavy, charged with an unspoken energy that seemed to pull the two of you into a world entirely separate from the bustling restaurant around you.

“J-Jieun…” you stammered, your voice barely audible as you struggled to process what you were witnessing. She didn’t respond immediately. Instead, her lips curved into a wicked smile, the kind that spoke volumes without uttering a single word. Her gaze locked onto yours, holding you captive as she took one last, deliberate bite. The faint sheen on her lips as she licked them clean sent a fresh wave of heat through you.

Her hand moved back to the plate, her motions meticulous as she gathered the last traces of sauce. The bread soaked up every remaining bit, and she bit into it with a quiet satisfaction that left you frozen in place. Her confidence was magnetic, radiating an energy that drew your attention to every small, calculated movement she made.

The clink of silverware and the low hum of the restaurant faded into the background as you were entirely consumed by her presence. Jieun, usually so composed and polished, was utterly unrestrained. This wasn’t a moment crafted for the public—it was raw, private, and intoxicatingly real.

Just then, the waiter returned to clear the plates, his demeanor polite and professional. Jieun’s expression shifted seamlessly. Her innocent, disarming smile—the one that had charmed millions—lit up her face as she glanced up at him, her eyes sparkling with a hidden delight.

“That was the best pasta sauce I’ve ever had,” she said sweetly, her voice light and cheerful, the very picture of composure. The subtle glance she shot your way was enough to make you nearly choke on your wine, her grin sparkling with barely concealed mischief.

The waiter nodded and thanked her, oblivious as he moved on, leaving the two of you alone once more. The tension between you crackled in the air with a new found energy that left you speechless. Jieun leaned back in her chair, taking a slow sip of her water, her lips glistening as her gaze lingered on yours.

For Jieun, the moment felt like a revelation. She had stepped outside the rigid mold that had defined her for so long, reclaiming a piece of herself that no one else could see. This was an adventure she wouldn’t soon forget, a memory that would stay with her long after the night ended. Her heart swelled with a sense of freedom, the knowledge that tonight, she had lived—not as the nation’s innocent idol, but as herself.

Once the meal was finished and the table cleared, the tension between you and Jieun reached a fever pitch. Every glance, every fleeting touch throughout dinner had been building to this moment. It felt as though the two of you had been balancing on a razor’s edge of anticipation, and neither of you could wait any longer. As the waiter placed the receipt on the table, you exchanged a quick, charged look, your hearts pounding in unison.

As you stood to leave, Jieun’s fingers brushed against yours, the simple touch igniting a surge of heat that rippled through you. The two of you began making your way toward the restaurant’s back hallway, where the restrooms were discreetly located. The air between you crackled with unspoken intent, your pace quickening slightly as if each step brought you closer to the inevitable release of all the pent-up tension.

Just as you passed the bar, Jieun’s movements faltered for a split second. Her gaze flicked toward a woman seated at one of the corner tables. The woman’s profile—delicate jawline, loose waves cascading down her shoulders—was partially obscured by the low-hanging light fixtures, but it was enough to make Jieun’s breath catch. Her pulse quickened as recognition bloomed in her chest. It looked just like Seulgi.

For a brief moment, Jieun’s thoughts veered away from you. The possibility of her close friend, her fellow idol, sitting just meters away sent a nervous flutter through her. What was she doing here? Was it really her? A pang of unease clashed with the heat she still felt from your earlier teasing. Her eyes lingered on the woman for a heartbeat longer, her lips parting slightly in surprise.

“Jieun?” you murmured, glancing back as you noticed her sudden hesitation.

She blinked, her lips pressing together as if to steady herself. Shaking her head, she whispered softly, “It’s nothing.” A faint flush crept across her cheeks, though whether it was from the thought of Seulgi or the tension building between the two of you, she wasn’t entirely sure. “Let’s go.”

As she turned her focus back to you, her fingers brushed yours again, and the electricity between you reignited. The thought of Seulgi was fleeting; the pull of the moment was far too strong to resist. Whatever she’d seen—or thought she’d seen—didn’t matter now. All that mattered was the shared anticipation, the magnetic force drawing the two of you closer. Nothing else could break the spell.

Once inside the women’s restroom, the intensity reached its breaking point. The door shut behind you, and the air between you seemed to crackle with electricity. Without a word, you pulled Jieun close, your lips crashing into hers with an urgency that left no room for hesitation. Her hands gripped the back of your neck as she melted into you, her breath hitching with each movement.

Your hands slid to her thighs, gripping her firmly as you lifted her effortlessly. Her legs wrapped tightly around your waist, locking you into her as her body shifted into position. Her arms clasped behind your neck, her fingers interlacing to steady herself. She arched slightly, her body horizontal to yours as she hung off you, her back supported by your strong grip on her hips.

Jieun tilted her head back, her hair spilling in waves as her body swayed slightly with each adjustment. If she tilted her head further, she could see the world upside down, the thrilling perspective only adding to the sense of wild abandon that pulsed between you.

With one hand, you shifted her skirt higher, the silky fabric gathering around her hips to reveal the dampened lace beneath. The sight alone sent a surge of heat through your veins, your breathing growing heavier as you reached down to slide the fabric aside. The softness of her skin, already slick with arousal, was like fire against your fingertips. She gasped softly, her voice trembling with anticipation, as she instinctively pressed closer to you. Her thighs squeezed around your hips, their warmth and tension radiating through you, a silent plea for more.

The heat between her legs was unmistakable, her need palpable in the way her body trembled against yours. The faint, intoxicating scent of her arousal mingled with the cool, slightly briny air of the aquarium, creating a heady mix that left your senses spinning.

“You’re already so wet,” you whispered, your voice a low growl against her ear. Your thumb brushed lightly against her folds, feeling the slickness there. “All of this just for me?”

Jieun let out a shaky laugh, her lips curving into a wicked smile even as her breaths came faster. “You know it is,” she murmured, her voice breathy and tinged with hunger. “You’ve been driving me crazy all night.”

“Good,” you growled, your grip on her hips tightening possessively. “Because I’m not holding back anymore.”

With deliberate precision, you positioned yourself at her entrance, her body eagerly yielding as you pushed inside her with one smooth motion. The heat and tightness enveloped you, drawing a deep groan from your chest as her gasp turned into a soft, breathy moan. Her legs tightened instinctively around your waist, pulling you closer, and her back arched slightly, the motion perfectly aligning your bodies.

“Oh, my God,” she whimpered, her voice trembling with every syllable. “You feel… so good.”

You gripped her hips firmly, guiding her movements as you began to thrust, each motion sending her rocking slightly in your arms. Her breath came in short, desperate gasps, her chest pressing against you as her arms locked tightly behind your neck. The friction of her skin against yours, the flushed warmth of her cheeks, and the quiver in her voice with every moan heightened your desire.

“You like this, don’t you?” you murmured, your voice rough with need as you leaned closer, your lips grazing the delicate curve of her ear. “Hanging off me, completely at my mercy.”

“Yes,” she gasped, her voice breaking with raw desire as her head tilted back, exposing the graceful curve of her neck. “I love it… you’re so deep.”

Her hair swayed with each movement, the strands brushing against your hands as you held her firmly. The soft glow of the lights reflected in her flushed skin, her trembling frame completely in sync with you. Every thrust seemed to delve deeper, pulling louder moans and broken cries from her lips.

“You’re so fucking perfect,” you groaned, your lips trailing down to her neck. You left small, heated kisses along her skin, your teeth grazing lightly as you marked her. The faint tang of her skin, mingled with the heady scent of her arousal, lingered on your tongue, adding to the overwhelming intensity of the moment. “I could keep you like this all night.”

Her moans grew louder, her nails digging into the back of your neck as she clung to you, her body trembling uncontrollably. “God,” she breathed, her voice quivering with desperation. “You’re going to make me… I’m so close.”

Your hands dug into her hips, your movements becoming more deliberate as you pulled her onto you with each powerful thrust. The tightness of her body, the way her thighs clung to you as though she were holding on for dear life, and her cries echoing off the walls around you—all of it pushed you closer to the edge.

“You’re close?” you teased, your voice dripping with dominance as you nipped at her ear. “Then let me feel it. Let me feel you fall apart for me.”

Her body shook violently in your arms, her legs tightening as tremors began to course through her. Her breath hitched, and her cries turned into soft, desperate gasps as she teetered on the edge. “Yes… yes,” she whimpered, her voice trembling with need, her hips bucking against you in frantic, erratic motions. She was so close, the tension within her building to an unbearable crescendo—

Then, the bathroom door creaked open.

Both of you froze, your breaths catching as the sound of footsteps echoed against the tiled floor. Jieun’s hand flew to her mouth, stifling a gasp as her wide eyes met yours in panic. Her heart pounded so loudly she was certain whoever had just walked in could hear it.

The footsteps paused just outside your stall. The figure on the other side of the door lingered, and you could feel Jieun’s body tense against yours as the thrill of being caught sent a shiver through her.

Outside, Seulgi stood by the sink, her sharp gaze sweeping the room. She noticed a familiar pair of shoes peeking out from under the stall door—ones she had seen Jieun wear many times before. She stepped closer, her curiosity piqued.

Then, from inside the stall, a faint, muffled gasp slipped out, catching Seulgi’s attention. Her brow furrowed as she stopped mid-step. “Are you okay in there?” she called out, her voice tinged with genuine worry.

Jieun’s eyes widened at the sound of Seulgi’s voice. Panic flashed across her face, but the edge of excitement mingled with it. She took a quick, steadying breath, her voice trembling slightly as she replied, “Y-Yes! I’m fine!”

Seulgi tilted her head, unconvinced. “You sure? You sound… a little out of breath,” she pressed, her tone filled with concern and curiosity.

You tightened your grip on Jieun, your hands steadying her trembling frame as the heat between you built impossibly higher. Leaning in, you whispered against her ear, “She’s not leaving… Maybe you should let her hear just how fine you really feel.” Your breath was hot against her flushed skin, sending another shiver down her spine. Her thighs tightened instinctively around your hips as your teasing words pushed her closer to the edge.

Jieun’s lips parted in a soft gasp, her breath trembling as you resumed your deep, deliberate thrusts. The tight, intimate space of the stall heightened every sensation, the tension making her body more sensitive with every passing second. Her nails dug into your shoulders, her attempt to steady herself faltering as her need became overwhelming.

Seulgi knocked again, her voice cutting through the charged air. “Are you sure you’re okay in there? Should I come in and check on you?” she asked, her tone laced with concern.

Jieun’s voice wavered as she bit down on her lip, fighting to keep the telltale sounds of her pleasure in check. “No!” she said sharply, her tone a mix of panic and desperation. “I’m… I’m fine. Really.”

You leaned in closer, your lips grazing her ear as you murmured, “You’re doing so well… but she’s not buying it. Let her hear just enough.” Your hips moved harder, deeper, your thrusts slow and precise, amplifying the heat coursing through her.

“Absolutely sure?” Seulgi asked, her tone dipping with suspicion now.

Jieun struggled to respond, her voice barely steady as she whispered, “Yes… please, just go…”

Seulgi hesitated on the other side of the stall, her voice softening into a teasing lilt. “ Wait…Jieun?” she called, the curiosity in her tone unmistakable.

Jieun’s body stiffened in your arms, her wide eyes darting up to meet yours in panic. Her breathing hitched, her fingers tightening against your back. The moment froze between you, her lips forming silent protests as she desperately tried to compose herself.

The silence outside the stall stretched for a moment before the faint sound of Seulgi rummaging through her bag filled the air. “Let’s see…” she murmured, and Jieun’s entire body tensed further.

Then, the sudden chime of Jieun’s phone shattered the tension. The ringtone echoed loudly in the stall, leaving no room for doubt. Seulgi’s soft laugh followed, rich with amusement and certainty. “Ah-ha! I knew it!” she exclaimed, her tone turning playful. “Jieun, don’t even try to deny it now.”

The thrill of recognition, the undeniable fact that she’d been caught, only fueled Jieun’s excitement. Her breath hitched as the sensation inside her built impossibly fast, a crescendo she could no longer resist. Her head tilted back, her arms clasping tighter behind your neck, and her legs gripped your waist with desperate intensity. Suspended in your arms, her body was entirely under your control, each thrust driving her higher and higher. The tension inside her snapped abruptly, like a dam breaking under relentless pressure.

“Fuck!” she gasped, her voice cracking with the force of her release as her climax hit like a tidal wave, consuming her completely. Her body tensed in your grip, every muscle taut as if caught in a moment of suspended time, before trembling violently with the sheer power of her orgasm. Her back arched sharply, pressing her chest against yours, her nails digging into your shoulders in a desperate attempt to ground herself amidst the storm of sensation.

Her moans, though choked and stifled against the urgency of the moment, escaped in raw, broken gasps, each one betraying the depth of her pleasure. Her thighs quivered uncontrollably around your waist, gripping you tightly as if to hold onto the intensity coursing through her. The wet heat of her arousal soaked through, a vivid reminder of just how deeply lost she was in the moment.

You gripped her hips firmly, your fingers pressing into her soft skin as you slowed your movements, keeping her steady while her body pulsed around you. Her walls clenched rhythmically, each spasm sending aftershocks rippling through her trembling frame. Her head tilted back further, her hair spilling in loose waves as her mouth hung open, releasing breathless whimpers between shallow, uneven breaths.

Her chest heaved against yours, her flushed skin damp with the sheen of exertion, each shuddering gasp a testament to the force of her release. Her trembling legs, once locked tightly around your waist, began to relax slightly as the waves of her climax slowly began to ebb. Still, her body quaked with the lingering echoes of pleasure, the aftershocks leaving her utterly spent in your arms.

“Good girl,” you murmured, your voice low and steady, a grounding force against the chaos of her sensations. “Let it all out. I’ve got you.”

Jieun whimpered softly in response, her grip on your shoulders loosening as her body melted into yours. Her head slumped forward, resting in the crook of your neck as she clung to you, her breath warm and uneven against your skin. The final ripples of her climax left her trembling, her body completely surrendered to the safety of your embrace as the intensity gradually faded into a blissful calm.

Just as her breathing began to steady, the quiet of the stall was interrupted by a soft, amused voice that broke the moment and sent a new wave of tension through the air.

She glanced up at you, her wide eyes filled with a mix of embarrassment and exhilaration. The reality of being caught, of Seulgi knowing exactly what was happening, sent another thrill coursing through her, even as she struggled to collect herself.

Jieun bit her lip, her chest still heaving as her gaze darted toward the stall door. Her body trembled slightly from the lingering aftershocks of her release, but her determination shone through the blush on her cheeks. After a brief hesitation, she nodded at you with shaky resolve. Releasing one hand from behind your neck, she reached out and unlocked the stall door, letting it swing open just enough.

The faint creak of the door was followed by Seulgi’s sharp intake of breath. Her gaze swept over the scene, her lips parting as her eyes widened, taking in the full picture. Jieun, leaning against you in disheveled perfection, her tousled hair framing a face flushed with both exertion and satisfaction. Her lips were swollen from kisses, and her breath came in soft, uneven gasps. The afterglow of her climax clung to her like a halo, her vulnerability mingling with the undeniable satisfaction in her posture.

Your hands remained firmly on her waist, holding her possessively against you as you watched Seulgi’s expression shift from surprise to something deeper—curiosity, intrigue, and unmistakable arousal. Seulgi’s eyes lingered, taking in every detail: the way Jieun’s head rested lightly on your shoulder, the way her chest still rose and fell with each shaky breath, the way the tension in the air crackled with unspoken possibilities.

“Wow…” Seulgi murmured, her voice barely above a whisper. “I… didn’t realize you two were having this much fun.”

A flicker of heat crossed her face as her gaze met Jieun’s. The intensity of the moment hung between the three of you, the shared secret drawing you closer as Seulgi’s words carried a weight that promised more to come.

Jieun’s cheeks flushed even deeper, but she didn’t look away. Her expression was a captivating mix of embarrassment and exhilaration, her lingering gaze on Seulgi carrying an unspoken acknowledgment of the moment they were all sharing. The tension hung thick in the air, a silent invitation sparking between the three of you, leaving possibilities none of you had fully anticipated.

Seulgi’s lips parted as if to speak, but instead, she leaned in slightly, her voice teasing yet laced with genuine intrigue. “Well… don’t let me stop you. But maybe… next time, let me know,” she murmured, her words hovering between jest and curiosity. A faint smile played on her lips as she stepped back, her eyes flicking between you and Jieun.

Jieun’s breath was beginning to steady, the tremors from her recent release softening into an undeniable confidence. Her initial embarrassment faded, replaced with a playful boldness. She met Seulgi’s gaze, her pulse quickening at the sight of her friend’s barely concealed intrigue. Her lips curved into a mischievous smile, her voice light yet deliberate. “Well… if you’re in the mood… maybe ‘next time’ could be now?”

Seulgi’s eyes widened slightly, her cheeks flushing as the invitation sank in. The spark in Jieun’s eyes, combined with her confident posture as she leaned into you, made it clear this wasn’t a passing suggestion. Seulgi’s gaze darted between the two of you, her composure momentarily faltering as the thrill of the situation hit her.

“You’re serious?” she asked softly, her tone a mix of intrigue and nervous hesitation. Her eyes flicked to Jieun, then to you, before landing somewhere between the two of you as if searching for confirmation.

Jieun stepped forward, her confidence radiating as she gently took Seulgi’s hand in hers. “Come on,” she said softly, her tone both playful and reassuring. Without giving Seulgi much time to question it, Jieun tugged her toward the larger disability stall at the end of the restroom. With a glance back at you and a small, knowing smile, she nudged Seulgi inside, and the three of you slipped into the space together. Jieun turned the lock with a firm, decisive click, the sound seeming to seal the shared moment.

Inside the stall, Seulgi’s eyes traveled over Jieun, taking in every detail: her tousled hair, her flushed cheeks, and the easy way she leaned into you with a comfortable intimacy that felt utterly magnetic. The raw closeness of the scene left Seulgi’s pulse racing, her nerves mingling with curiosity as she stood still, unsure of what to do next.

Jieun didn’t hesitate. Moving closer to Seulgi, she offered a teasing smile, her hand brushing lightly down Seulgi’s arm in a touch that was both gentle and deliberate. “Don’t be shy, Seulgi,” Jieun murmured, her voice soft yet laced with playful confidence. “You’re with us.”

Seulgi’s cheeks grew pinker, her breath hitching slightly as she glanced down at Jieun’s hand resting lightly on her arm. “I just… I mean… I was sort of joking earlier,” she admitted, her words trailing off as her voice softened with hesitation.

Jieun let out a quiet, melodic laugh, her confidence shining as she tilted her head, her gaze warm and inviting. “Oh, I think you’re going to like this,” she replied, her tone light yet charged with meaning. Her hand slid upward, brushing a strand of hair from Seulgi’s face. Her movements were deliberate, her fingers lingering as she added in a softer voice, “Just relax.”

Before Seulgi could respond, Jieun leaned in and pressed a gentle kiss to her cheek, her lips lingering for a moment before pulling back. Her smile deepened as she met Seulgi’s gaze, her expression filled with encouragement and boldness. “See?” Jieun whispered, her tone playful but reassuring. 

With that, the space between all three of you seemed to dissolve completely. Each touch and glance was filled with shared anticipation as Seulgi fully joined in, her hands and lips meeting yours and Jieun’s, bringing an added layer of intensity to the moment. The larger stall seemed to shrink as the three of you moved together, every movement deliberate and filled with unspoken understanding.

Inside the confined space, the air was heavy with warmth and the intoxicating blend of perfume, sweat, and raw desire. Seulgi leaned back against the tiled wall, her cheeks flushed with heat, her chest rising and falling with quickened breaths. Her wide eyes flicked between you and Jieun, glinting with a mixture of boldness and nerves. She bit her lower lip, the gesture as much an attempt to steady herself as it was an invitation.

Jieun, sensing Seulgi’s hesitance, stepped closer, her hands finding their way to Seulgi’s waist. Her touch was firm yet gentle as she began sliding her hands upward, finding the hem of Seulgi’s blouse. “Let me help,” Jieun whispered, her voice warm and encouraging as she guided the fabric up and over Seulgi’s head. Seulgi lifted her arms obediently, her lips parting slightly as her breath hitched.

The soft light of the stall illuminated Seulgi’s now-exposed skin, her collarbone glistening faintly, and the hint of nervous excitement in her eyes deepened. Jieun smiled reassuringly, leaning in to place a featherlight kiss on Seulgi’s shoulder before her hands moved lower. With practiced ease, Jieun unfastened Seulgi’s skirt, letting it pool around her ankles. Seulgi’s hands rested lightly on Jieun’s shoulders for balance, her chest rising and falling as the cool air kissed her exposed thighs.

“You’re beautiful,” Jieun murmured, her words tender but brimming with sincerity as she traced her fingers along the waistband of Seulgi’s panties, stopping just shy of pulling them down. The intimacy of the moment drew Seulgi’s gaze down to meet Jieun’s, her lips trembling slightly as she nodded silently.

Jieun leaned in, brushing her lips against Seulgi’s in a kiss that was both gentle and charged, her hands moving to steady Seulgi as she stepped out of her skirt. With one last glance up at her, Jieun pulled the delicate fabric of Seulgi’s panties down, leaving her fully bare and vulnerable between the two of you.

Seulgi shivered slightly, whether from the cool air or the overwhelming intensity of the moment, it was impossible to tell. But the way her hands instinctively reached for yours and Jieun’s spoke volumes. The three of you stood close, the weight of the moment heavy but electrifying, as Seulgi’s walls melted away completely under your shared attention.

When you positioned yourself closer, Seulgi’s voice broke the silence, soft and trembling. “Do you… have a condom?” she asked, her gaze flicking between you and Jieun. You exchanged a quick glance with Jieun, shaking your heads almost in unison.

Seulgi hesitated only for a second before her lips curved into a daring smile. Her eyes darted back to yours as she murmured, “Then… maybe we can still make this work if… we try it another way.”

Her suggestion lingered in the air, sparking a new thrill between the three of you. Moving with deliberate ease, Seulgi wrapped her arms around your neck, her body pressing closer against yours. Her skin was warm beneath your touch as she lifted one leg, hooking it high, her calf resting against your shoulder. The stretch of her body was graceful yet provocative, her other foot planted firmly on the tiled floor for balance. The position opened her to you completely, her breath hitching as your hands found her hips to steady her.

Her back arched slightly, her head tipping back against the cool wall as she adjusted to the new position. Her breath was a soft gasp, her cheeks glowing with both arousal and the vulnerability of being completely exposed. The angle gave her a sense of surrender that only heightened her excitement, her hands resting on your shoulders for support, fingers occasionally curling into your skin.

Jieun, watching with a playful smile, stepped closer. Her hands glided up Seulgi’s outstretched thigh, her touch light and teasing, drawing a soft, shuddering breath from Seulgi. “Relax,” Jieun murmured, her voice smooth and reassuring. “You’re going to love this.”

As you positioned yourself, the tip of your length pressed against the tight ring of Seulgi’s entrance. Her breath hitched sharply, her body instinctively tensing as her fingers gripped your shoulders for support. Slowly, deliberately, you began to push forward. The resistance was immediate—her muscles taut and trembling as they struggled to accommodate you. Every inch was an exploration, a careful coaxing as her body gradually yielded to the pressure, her tightness embracing you with a searing, almost overwhelming intensity.

Seulgi’s eyes fluttered closed, her lips parting in a silent gasp as she felt herself stretch in ways she never had before. The sensation was intense—an unfamiliar mix of pressure and fullness that sent sparks of heat coursing through her. Each millimeter seemed to awaken new nerves, her mind reeling as she adjusted to the unrelenting stretch.

“Oh…” The sound escaped her as a soft, unsteady whisper, her voice laced with awe. Her brows knitted together in concentration, her cheeks flushing deeper with every passing second. Her chest rose and fell in shallow breaths, each exhale trembling as the pressure inside her built, sending shivers along her spine. “I didn’t think… it would feel like this…” she admitted, her voice quivering with both astonishment and growing pleasure.

Her fingers clutched at your shoulders, their grip firm as if anchoring herself against the rush of sensations. Her moans began quietly, tentative and exploratory, like a melody being discovered. But as her body softened to you, the sounds grew, confidence unfurling with each passing moment. Jieun, ever attentive, leaned closer, her soft lips finding Seulgi’s collarbone, trailing playful, delicate kisses along her flushed skin. The attention made Seulgi shudder, her breath catching as she melted further into the moment.

“Feels good, doesn’t it?” Jieun whispered, her voice a sultry thread of encouragement against Seulgi’s ear. The words sent a visible tremor through her, her spine arching slightly, her body instinctively moving in rhythm with yours as she nodded, her movements hesitant but full of yearning.

“Yes… he’s… so big…” Seulgi murmured breathlessly, her voice breaking into a soft moan as you deepened your pace. Her inner muscles fluttered with every purposeful thrust, the exquisite tightness heightening the intensity of every movement. Her leg, stretched high on your shoulder, offered the perfect angle for deeper, more deliberate strokes, each motion drawing a gasp or a trembling sigh from her lips. Her flushed cheeks and trembling frame spoke of the raw honesty of her surrender, the moment etched with vulnerability and desire.

The tightness of the position amplified every sensation, each thrust an intense, electric connection between you. Seulgi’s flushed cheeks glowed, her half-lidded eyes shining with vulnerability and pleasure. Jieun’s hands caressed her thigh, the warmth of her touch grounding yet teasing as she leaned in, her presence anchoring Seulgi in the storm of overwhelming sensations.

“I… I can’t believe this…” Seulgi whispered, her voice breathless and tinged with awe. Her lips brushed your shoulder as she spoke, her body trembling as she clung to you and Jieun for support, completely immersed in the moment.

Jieun’s lips pressed a gentle kiss to Seulgi’s temple, her fingers threading through Seulgi’s damp hair. “You’re doing amazing,” she murmured, her tone soft yet edged with playful confidence. The reassurance brought a flicker of a smile to Seulgi’s lips, even as another gasping cry escaped her, her body arching into your deepening rhythm.

The air around you was thick with heat and intimacy, the cramped stall brimming with a charged energy that left none of you untouched. Seulgi’s moans grew louder, her voice rising with each deliberate movement, her hands clutching you with an almost desperate intensity. Her body moved instinctively with yours, a perfect harmony of push and pull, tension and release, as she surrendered completely to the moment.

Not stopping there, Jieun slid gracefully to her knees, the cold tiles sending a slight shiver through her as the warmth radiating from Seulgi’s trembling body pulled her in. Her eyes glinted with mischief as they locked onto Seulgi’s, taking in her flushed cheeks, parted lips, and the way her breaths came in short, desperate gasps. Seulgi’s composure was completely undone, her vulnerability and desire laid bare.

“You really are breathtaking, Seulgi,” Jieun murmured, her voice a low caress that sent a visible shiver through her. The words left Seulgi speechless, her lips trembling as she tried to form a response, but only a quiet, shaky exhale escaped. Jieun smirked, trailing her fingers teasingly along Seulgi’s thighs before spreading them gently, exposing her completely.

As you maintained your deep, steady rhythm, Seulgi’s body rocked against yours, her soft cries and gasps reverberating through the confined space. Her head tilted back, her hair cascading as her lips parted further, releasing trembling breaths. Her body was taut with anticipation, every nerve heightened as she felt the building intensity.

Jieun leaned in, her warm breath brushing against Seulgi’s slick entrance, sending a jolt through her already trembling frame. With deliberate care, Jieun placed a soft, exploratory kiss against her folds, her lips moving gently over the sensitive skin. The sensation drew a broken gasp from Seulgi, her hips twitching as the unfamiliar yet overwhelming attention consumed her.

Jieun’s tongue followed, warm and languid, tracing slow, deliberate strokes along Seulgi’s folds. The taste of her arousal lingered on Jieun’s tongue as she savored each movement, her hands gripping Seulgi’s thighs firmly to hold her steady. Seulgi whimpered, her fingers clutching at your shoulders for support, her body trembling as the sensations intensified.

“Look at you,” Jieun murmured between strokes, her voice dripping with teasing admiration. “So perfect… so ready for us.”

The gentle pressure of Jieun’s tongue against her folds, combined with your deliberate, steady thrusts, pushed Seulgi closer to the edge. Her breathing became erratic, her body pressing instinctively into Jieun’s touch. The warmth of Jieun’s breath, the slick glide of her tongue, and the way you filled her deeply created a symphony of sensations that left Seulgi completely undone.

Her soft moans turned to pleading gasps, her thighs trembling in Jieun’s hold as her body gave in to the rising tide of pleasure. Each stroke of Jieun’s tongue and the firm grip of your hands guided her higher, her movements increasingly erratic as she teetered on the brink. The intensity between the three of you was electric, each moment drawing Seulgi deeper into the overwhelming heat of the moment.

Jieun’s mouth moved with deliberate care, her tongue tracing intricate patterns along Seulgi, each movement soft but purposeful. Seulgi’s body stiffened at the sensation, her breaths hitching as Jieun’s warm tongue explored her slick entrance. The delicate, tantalizing strokes made her hips roll instinctively, chasing the sensation with unrestrained need.

Seulgi’s body rocked against you, her back arching slightly as every motion elicited a soft, breathy moan that echoed off the tiled walls. Her hands clutched at your shoulders, her nails digging into your skin as her head fell back, her neck arching gracefully. Her features were completely unguarded, a beautiful display of raw vulnerability and pleasure.

“Please,” she whimpered, her voice trembling and barely audible. “I… I can’t—oh my god…”

“You can take it,” you growled softly, your hands tightening on her hips to keep her steady. The authority in your voice sent a shiver through her, her body trembling with both anticipation and surrender.

Jieun’s lips curved into a knowing smile against Seulgi’s entrance before she adjusted her rhythm, her tongue flicking and gliding in perfect harmony with your deep, steady thrusts. The attention was unrelenting, every stroke of her tongue deliberate and calculated to draw Seulgi closer to the edge. Her lips brushed over Seulgi’s heated skin, pressing gentle kisses between each motion, teasing her further.

Seulgi’s cries grew higher and more desperate, her body responding with an unrestrained fervor as the tension inside her built to an unbearable peak. Her hands tightened around your shoulders, her nails digging into your skin as if anchoring herself against the storm of sensations. Her legs shook against you, the tremors a physical testament to her escalating need, her entire body teetering on the edge.

“Oh, fuck!” she gasped suddenly, her voice cracking as her climax surged through her like a tidal wave. Her entire frame went rigid, her muscles tightening as if time itself had momentarily stopped. You felt it vividly—the tight ring of her ass quivered and pulsed around you, each contraction squeezing you in rhythm with her release, her body responding instinctively to the depth of your connection. The sheer intensity of it sent a jolt of pleasure coursing through you, the primal intimacy almost overwhelming.

Jieun, still nestled between Seulgi’s trembling thighs, felt the flood of sensation in her own way. The slick folds of Seulgi’s center quivered against Jieun’s lips, the trembling warmth transmitting every pulse of her orgasm. Jieun couldn’t help but smile against her, the quaking response like a song of pleasure only she could hear and feel. Her tongue slowed its movements, offering gentle, soothing strokes that coaxed Seulgi through the peaks and valleys of her release.

Seulgi’s body shook violently, her thighs squeezing around Jieun’s shoulders as her hands clutched desperately at you for stability. Her cries, muffled against your neck, were raw and trembling, each one punctuated by the rhythmic spasms that overtook her. The sheer force of her orgasm left her breathless, her chest heaving against yours as the ripples of her climax spread through her like aftershocks.

Her head tilted back slightly, her face glowing with the intensity of her release, her damp hair clinging to her flushed cheeks. Her lips parted as she let out a final, soft whimper, her body collapsing into your arms. The lingering tremors in her muscles and the warmth radiating from her skin made her feel utterly fragile and entirely yours in that moment.

As Seulgi’s body began to come down from her high, her trembling legs and quivering muscles spoke of the overwhelming climax she’d just experienced. Her chest rose and fell in rapid breaths, her head resting momentarily on your shoulder as her arms clung to you for stability. The aftershocks rippled through her, each small convulsion eliciting a soft gasp or whimper.

But you weren’t ready to stop. You continued to thrust into her, your movements slow but deliberate, drawing new waves of sensation from her already oversensitive body. Her nails dug into your shoulders as she let out a breathless moan, her voice laced with surprise and surrender.

“I-I’m so sensitive,” she whimpered, her voice trembling as you held her steady. Yet, even through her overstimulation, there was a flicker of hunger in her tone, a silent invitation for more.

Jieun, ever attentive, leaned in close, pressing a soft kiss to Seulgi’s temple as her fingers slid along Seulgi’s slick, trembling thighs. “You’re not done yet,” Jieun whispered, her voice teasing and sultry. “We’re going to make you feel everything.”

Slipping two inside Seulgi with practiced ease. The slick heat welcomed her instantly, and with a deft curl, she pressed against Seulgi’s g-spot, her movements precise and rhythmic. Seulgi gasped sharply, her back arching as her overstimulated nerves sparked to life again. Her moans grew louder, breathless cries that filled the stall as Jieun’s fingers pumped steadily.

“You like this, don’t you?” Jieun murmured against Seulgi’s flushed skin, her lips brushing just below her navel. “You like the way my boyfriend’s cock feels inside you. Look at how good you’re taking him.”

Seulgi’s moans grew louder, her hips bucking against both you and Jieun’s relentless rhythm. “Y-Yes,” she gasped, her voice trembling, “oh my God, yes…”

Jieun smirked, her confidence growing as she saw Seulgi unravel. Her fingers pumped faster, the slick, wet sounds echoing in the confined space. “That’s it,” Jieun whispered, her tone a mix of teasing and command. “You’re going to cum so hard for us, aren’t you? You’re going to show us just how much you love being filled like this.”

“Oh fuck… I can’t…” Seulgi whimpered, her head falling back against the stall wall, her body tightening as the overwhelming sensations built to an unbearable peak. Her cries turned desperate, her legs trembling as her free leg strained for balance while the one on your shoulder quivered violently.

Jieun’s lips descended further, her warm breath brushing Seulgi’s sensitive flesh before her mouth captured Seulgi’s clit. The sensation was immediate and devastating. Jieun’s tongue swirled and flicked with skill, her lips sealing tightly as she sucked gently, intensifying the pleasure radiating through Seulgi’s body. Her fingers inside Seulgi never faltered, each curl and thrust perfectly timed to push her closer to the edge.

“You’re going to cum for us again, one last time,” Jieun said against her, her voice muffled but dripping with authority. “Come on, let go. I want to feel you fall apart.”

The combination of Jieun’s relentless mouth, her fingers stroking Seulgi’s most sensitive spot, and your deep, steady thrusts was an intoxicating overload. Seulgi’s cries grew louder, her body jerking uncontrollably as she clutched at both of you. Her nails dug into your shoulders and Jieun’s hair as she gasped.

Her inner muscles clenched around you with an intensity that bordered on overwhelming, the rhythmic pulsing pulling you deeper into her. Her voice broke into a scream as every nerve in her body seemed to ignite with pleasure. Jieun, ever attentive, stayed locked onto Seulgi’s clit, her tongue flicking with precision, her fingers curling harder, pushing Seulgi to the precipice of an entirely new realm of sensation.

Jieun noticed how close you were as well, her keen intuition picking up on every subtle shift in your breath and movement. Lifting her head briefly from Seulgi’s clit, her lips glistening with Seulgi’s arousal, she didn’t pause for long. Her thumb immediately replaced her mouth, rubbing firm, deliberate circles over the swollen nub. Her movements were precise, each stroke designed to maintain the building tension in Seulgi’s trembling body.

Jieun’s fingers never faltered, pumping rhythmically inside Seulgi, curling just right to press against her g-spot with unrelenting precision. Seulgi’s breath hitched, her hips rocking against Jieun’s hand as her cries grew more desperate. Jieun leaned in again, her mischievous eyes flicking up to meet yours, a smirk playing at the corners of her damp lips.

Then, with a wicked glint in her eye, Jieun shifted her focus. Her tongue flicked out, delicate and teasing, as she leaned toward you. Her warm breath ghosted over your sensitive entrance before her tongue made contact, tracing slow, deliberate circles around the tight ring of muscle. The sensation was electrifying, the wet warmth of her tongue contrasting with the overwhelming tightness of Seulgi’s body clenching around you.

Jieun’s tongue moved with exquisite care, alternating between firm pressure and featherlight strokes, each flick sending a shiver up your spine. She leaned in further, her hands steady on Seulgi as she balanced herself to focus on you fully. The way her tongue explored you was intimate, her motions filled with a mixture of playfulness and intent. She seemed to delight in your reaction, her soft hum of satisfaction vibrating faintly against you.

“Fuck, Jieun,” you groaned, your voice thick with raw pleasure. Your thrusts stuttered slightly, the dual sensation of Seulgi’s tightness and Jieun’s tender caress overwhelming every nerve.

She chuckled softly, her warm breath sent shivers down your spine as her tongue continued its wicked dance against your sensitive entrance. Her deliberate, teasing strokes were maddening, contrasting perfectly with the tight heat of Seulgi wrapped around you. 

Seulgi’s body trembled violently, her breath catching in desperate gasps. Her thighs quivered against you, one hooked over your shoulder as her nails clawed at your back, anchoring herself through the overwhelming sensations. Every thrust sent her closer to the edge, her cries becoming higher and more frantic. “I-I can’t—oh God, I’m so close!” she whimpered, her voice trembling with anticipation.

Jieun lifted her head, pulling back from you with a wicked grin, her tongue flicking out to lick her lips. She shifted slightly, sitting back on her heels, her mischievous eyes locking onto Seulgi as she kept her thumb and fingers working with unrelenting skill. “Come on, Seulgi,” Jieun purred, her tone dripping with seduction. “Let go for us. Show me how much you like the way he fills you.”

Seulgi’s moans escalated into cries of desperation. Her muscles clenched around you tightly, her body arching as the overwhelming sensations pushed her over the precipice. “Oh my God, I’m—I’m—!” she screamed as the dam finally broke. Her climax hit like a storm, her body convulsing uncontrollably as a hot, sudden rush of fluid erupted from her, drenching Jieun completely.

The warm liquid sprayed over Jieun’s chest, face, and hair, the intensity of the release leaving Seulgi sobbing with pleasure. Her thighs trembled against you, her body went limp as she held onto you, trying to keep herself upright. “Oh fuck!” she gasped, her voice broken and raw as her body continued to quiver.

Jieun, her chest rising and falling with excitement, glanced down at herself, her lips curling into a playful smile as the liquid dripped down her skin. “Look at you,” she murmured, her voice husky and teasing. “So messy. So beautiful.”

The sight of Seulgi unraveling, her body shaking with unrestrained pleasure, was enough to tip you over the edge. Her leg, still stretched high on your shoulder, trembled violently, while the other pressed firmly against the floor for balance. Her pulsing, tight ring clenched around you, drawing you deeper into her as if her body refused to let go. The heat and rhythmic spasms of her climax were unlike anything you’d ever felt, sending you hurtling toward your own release. With a deep, guttural groan, you thrust into her one final time, the tension snapping as your release surged forward in a flood of warmth.

Seulgi’s breath hitched sharply, her nails digging into your shoulders as her body reacted to the unfamiliar sensation. Her half-lidded eyes fluttered shut, her lips parting as a soft, tremulous moan escaped her. The warmth of your release spread within her, filling her completely in a way she’d never experienced before. Her body shivered uncontrollably, her mind spinning as the sensation tipped her into a new wave of blissful aftershocks.

“Oh…wow” she murmured, her voice shaky and raw as her muscles quivered, every pulse drawing out the lingering heat inside her. The intimate sensation left her breathless, her head resting against your shoulder as she clung to you for support. Her cheeks flushed a deeper shade of pink as her body instinctively responded, each flutter of her muscles milking the last remnants of your release.

As you slowly began to withdraw, the sensitivity of the moment overwhelmed her. The gradual slide of your length, slick with the evidence of your union, caused her to gasp softly, her body shivering from the sudden emptiness. The cool air against her heated skin only heightened her awareness of the loss, the contrast stark and intimate. “I can feel…” she whispered, her voice barely audible, her head tilting forward in a dazed mix of wonder and exhaustion.

Her trembling legs struggled to support her as her body instinctively clenched, missing the warmth that had just left her. The sensation of your release still lingering within her was both strange and deeply satisfying, a reminder of the closeness you’d just shared.

Jieun, ever attentive, leaned forward with a soft, knowing smile. Her damp hair clung to her flushed cheeks as she trailed her lips down Seulgi’s trembling thigh, her breath warm and intimate against her oversensitive skin. With Seulgi’s leg still perched on your shoulder, her body open and exposed, Jieun moved closer, her tongue darting out to clean the traces of your release.

Seulgi’s entire body shuddered as she felt the warm, deliberate strokes of Jieun’s tongue against her stretched ring. The sensation was unlike anything she had experienced—intensely intimate and overwhelming, her muscles instinctively quivering with every pass of Jieun’s lips. The soft, wet sound of Jieun’s work, combined with the sensation of her tender scoops and lingering sucks, made Seulgi’s breath hitch. A quiet, trembling whimper escaped her as her hands reached out, weakly gripping Jieun’s hair, seeking something to ground her.

The slick warmth of Jieun’s tongue pressed delicately yet persistently, cleaning every inch of her sensitive skin. Seulgi could feel every flick and caress, her body responding involuntarily with a new wave of tremors as Jieun’s mouth worked its way methodically. Jieun’s lips brushed against the tender area, adding a mix of teasing and care that left Seulgi gasping softly, her legs threatening to give out entirely.

Once satisfied, Jieun leaned back slightly, her eyes gleaming with mischief as she licked her lips, savoring the remnants of your release and Seulgi’s arousal. Rising with a fluid grace, she moved toward Seulgi, her expression both predatory and affectionate. Reaching out, she cupped the back of Seulgi’s head, pulling her close until their faces were mere inches apart.

Seulgi’s breath hitched as Jieun closed the distance, capturing her lips in a fierce, passionate kiss. The intimacy of the act was electrifying, the lingering taste of your release mingling between them as their tongues intertwined in a fervent, hungry dance. Seulgi’s hands slid to Jieun’s waist, her grip weak but desperate as she melted into the kiss, her soft moans swallowed by Jieun’s relentless passion.

The taste of you lingered between Jieun and Seulgi, adding a raw intimacy to their kiss. It was fervent yet tender, their shared vulnerability creating a timeless moment between them. Jieun’s hand tangled in Seulgi’s hair, her grip firm but affectionate, grounding them both in the heat of the moment.

The sight was overwhelming. The way their lips moved together, the visible flick of their tongues during brief partings, and the way they shared your essence between them was intoxicating. Each flick of their tongues, every quiet gasp and hum of pleasure, felt magnetic, leaving you teetering on the edge of awe just from watching. The chemistry between them was undeniable, a perfect blend of curiosity and passion that left you captivated.

When their lips finally parted, a faint shimmer of your release still connected them, a delicate thread glistening briefly before Jieun licked it away with a soft hum, her smile warm and satisfied. She glanced at Seulgi, her eyes glowing with affection. “That was… something else,” she murmured, her voice carrying the weight of shared intimacy rather than teasing. Her tone was calm, almost reverent, as if she wanted the moment to linger.

Seulgi let out a breathy laugh, her cheeks still flushed as she leaned back against the cool stall wall for support. Her chest rose and fell in uneven breaths, her legs trembling slightly as she tried to compose herself. “I don’t even know what to say,” she admitted, her voice soft but laced with lingering wonder. “That was… unforgettable. Completely.”

Jieun tucked a strand of damp hair behind her ear, her own breathing still settling. “Unforgettable,” she echoed, her smile softening. “Exactly what it should be.” Her gaze shifted to you briefly, filled with warmth, before returning to Seulgi. “I’m glad you were with us.”

Seulgi nodded, a quiet laugh escaping her as she smoothed down her clothes with trembling hands. “I think I’m the lucky one here,” she said, her voice filled with a mix of amusement and sincerity. “But we should probably… you know, clean up a little before someone notices.”

Jieun let out a small laugh, nodding as she adjusted her hair and straightened her outfit. Her reflection in the mirror caught your eye, her flushed cheeks and radiant smile making your heart swell. “Alright,” she said softly, her voice steady now. “Let’s do this without looking guilty, okay?”

Seulgi smirked, her composure slowly returning. “I’ll try,” she said with a chuckle. “But no promises.”

The three of you slipped out of the stall, moving as calmly as you could manage despite the thrill buzzing in the air between you. Each shared glance carried an unspoken agreement to keep cool, but the faint smiles tugging at your lips betrayed the adrenaline still rushing through you.

Just as you neared the door to the dining area, a loud, exasperated voice rang out, cutting through the hum of the restaurant like a sharp knife.

“Ugh, it reeks of sex in here! Who the hell did this?”

The words froze you all mid-step. Jieun slapped a hand over her mouth, her eyes wide with mortified delight, barely stifling the laughter threatening to escape. Seulgi’s eyes darted to yours, her expression torn between panic and amusement. For a second, the three of you just stood there, caught like kids who’d been caught red-handed.

Then, as if on cue, the spell broke, and you bolted.

Laughter erupted from all of you as you sprinted through the dining area, the chaos unfolding in perfect synchronization. The manager’s head turned just in time to see you weaving between tables, his shout of, “Hey! Stop right there!” drowned out by the clatter of silverware and your uncontrollable laughter.

Jieun’s hand found yours, her grip firm as she tugged you forward. Her face was lit with exhilaration, her flushed cheeks glowing in the dim restaurant light. The door to the restaurant swung open with a loud bang, and the three of you burst into the cool night air.

None of you dared to look back as your footsteps echoed against the pavement. The adrenaline coursing through your veins mingled with an almost childlike joy, your collective laughter ringing out into the quiet street.

Turning a corner, you slowed to a stop, panting and leaning against the wall for support. Jieun’s head fell back, her laughter bubbling out uncontrollably, her eyes sparkling in the faint glow of a nearby streetlamp. Seulgi leaned forward, hands on her knees as she tried to catch her breath, her own laughter interspersed with gasps.

“Oh my God,” Jieun gasped between breaths, her cheeks flushed with exhilaration. “Did we seriously just do that? What are we, teenagers?”

Seulgi, still laughing, shook her head. “Honestly, I’ve had wild nights before, but this? This takes the cake. You two are something else.”

Finally, your pace slowed as the street grew quieter, the laughter tapering off into soft chuckles. Seulgi stopped first, turning to face you and Jieun with a warm, mischievous smile.

“Thanks for letting me be part of this,” Seulgi said softly, breaking the quiet between the three of you. Her tone carried a sincerity that contrasted with her playful grin. She stepped closer, pressing a quick kiss to Jieun’s cheek, then yours. Her gaze lingered for a moment, her smile widening with mischief. “Don’t keep me waiting too long for the next one,” she teased, her voice light but filled with meaning.

Jieun blushed deeply but managed a smile. “We’ll let you know,” she replied, her voice tinged with warmth as she watched Seulgi step back.

Seulgi waved as she turned and headed down the street, disappearing into the glow of the city. The quiet hum of the night filled the space she left behind, and you felt Jieun’s hand tighten slightly around yours.

As you glanced down, Jieun tilted her head to meet your gaze, her eyes shimmering with unspoken gratitude. “I still can’t believe we just did that,” she murmured, her voice tinged with amazement. “I don’t think I ever would have… without you.”

You squeezed her hand, your smile soft and reassuring. “You don’t give yourself enough credit, Jieun. You’re stronger and braver than you think.”

She laughed gently, the sound carrying a mix of disbelief and joy. “It’s because of you,” she admitted, her voice wavering slightly. “You make me feel brave. You make me want to really live—not just go through the motions, but actually feel alive.”

Her words hit you deeply, stirring something in your chest. You stopped walking, turning to face her fully. Reaching up, you tucked a stray strand of hair behind her ear, your touch lingering. “Jieun, you’ve always had that courage. All I’ve done is show you what’s already there. And I’ll keep reminding you of that—always.”

Her lips curved into a tender smile, her eyes glistening as she leaned into your touch. “You’ve changed my life,” she whispered. “I’ve never felt more like myself than I do with you.”

Pulling her into your arms, you held her close as the cool night air swirled around you. The soft glow of the streetlights painted her face in warm tones, and you couldn’t help but marvel at how serene and radiant she looked. Her usual composed, idol-like demeanor had melted away, replaced with raw, unfiltered happiness.

“I love you,” you murmured, pressing a kiss to her forehead, the words coming effortlessly.

Her cheeks flushed, her smile softening as she looked up at you. “I love you too,” she replied, her voice steady and full of emotion. “More than I ever thought I could love anyone.”

The moment stretched as the world seemed to fade around you, leaving just the two of you beneath the open sky. Her arms looped around your neck, and you leaned down to capture her lips in a kiss that was slow and meaningful. Every touch, every movement spoke of a love that was deep and enduring, a connection that went beyond words.

When the kiss finally broke, her forehead rested lightly against yours, her breath mingling with yours. The faint hum of the city seemed to pause, giving the moment its own space to exist. Her cheeks tinged with a deeper pink as she tapped your chest playfully. “You’re too good to me.”

“Not possible,” you said with a chuckle, pulling her closer. “You’re my everything.”

The two of you stood there, wrapped in the warmth of the night and each other. It was as though time had slowed, giving you a moment to fully appreciate the love that had grown between you. As you began to walk again, her hand snug in yours, she let out a soft laugh.

“You think we’ll ever have another night like this?” she asked, her voice teasing but hopeful.

“With you? Every night feels like this,” you replied, glancing at her with a grin. “But we’ll keep raising the bar.”

Her laughter bubbled up, light and carefree, as she leaned her head against your shoulder. “You make everything feel limitless,” she said softly.

Her words filled your chest with warmth, and as the two of you walked down the quiet street, a spark of inspiration flickered in your mind. It was an idea that felt right—something that would take your shared adventures to the next chapter. You tucked it away for now, savoring the night and the woman at your side.

The city’s hum provided a gentle backdrop as Jieun glanced up at you, her eyes brimming with affection. Her hand tightened around yours, grounding you in the moment. The future felt full of promise, a canvas waiting to be painted with more memories like this—and something even greater.

Your smile deepened as you squeezed her hand a little tighter, knowing this was only the beginning.

Epilogue.

Quite a few months had passed since that unforgettable day, and though life had returned to its steady rhythm, the memories of that evening lingered like a vivid dream. They were a testament to how far Jieun had come from the quiet, reserved person she once thought she was. With you by her side, her world had expanded; her confidence had bloomed like a flower reaching toward the sun. Every day felt like an adventure waiting to unfold, brimming with possibility and love.

Tonight, however, was different. Tonight, the rooftop above the city had been transformed into a sanctuary of twinkling lights and soft, soulful music. Strings of fairy lights draped elegantly across the railing, casting a warm, golden glow that danced against the inky sky. The stars shimmered brilliantly, their light reflected in the glossy skyscraper windows. The distant hum of the city below faded into a comforting backdrop, the occasional car horn or burst of laughter adding texture to the quiet intimacy of the night.

Jieun stood by the railing, her silhouette framed by the glistening skyline. The flowing fabric of her dress fluttered gently in the evening breeze, the soft folds catching the light like ripples on a moonlit lake. Her hair moved with the wind, strands catching in the gentle currents and brushing against her glowing cheeks. Her eyes, luminous as they reflected the stars above, held a quiet joy as she gazed out at the cityscape. The faint scent of jasmine and roses, from the bouquet you’d surprised her with earlier, lingered in the air, mingling with the cool crispness of the night.

You couldn’t help but marvel at her. Even after all these years together, she still had a way of taking your breath away. Her radiance, raw and unfiltered, felt more captivating than the sprawling view beyond her—a beauty that was both effortless and deeply magnetic. As you approached, the sound of your footsteps caused her to turn, her smile soft and familiar, the kind that seemed to light up even the darkest corners of your world. She extended her hand toward you, her fingers delicate and welcoming.

“This is beautiful,” she said softly, her voice filled with a wonder that made your heart swell. Her gaze wandered over the fairy lights, the softly swaying lanterns, and the cozy table set with remnants of your earlier dinner. “You’ve really outdone yourself this time.”

“Well, it’s a special night,” you replied, intertwining your fingers with hers and pulling her closer. The warmth of her touch spread through you like a gentle fire. “You deserve the best.”

Her eyes flickered with curiosity, a playful crease forming between her brows. “What’s the occasion? You’ve been so mysterious all week.” Her tone was light, but you could see the spark of anticipation in her expression.

You smiled, brushing a stray strand of hair from her face. The silky texture slipped between your fingers like a whisper of moonlight. “You’ll see,” you said teasingly, your voice low and affectionate. “But for now, just enjoy this.”

Earlier, the two of you had shared a simple yet intimate dinner. You’d cooked together, the act filled with laughter, teasing, and the occasional brush of your hands. The rooftop now stood as a glowing testament to your love, bathed in warm, golden light, with the soft strains of her favorite songs drifting through the air. It was the perfect setting for what you had planned—the next step in a journey you both held dear.

The music shifted to a slower melody, a romantic tune that had always reminded you of her. Without a word, you took her hand and guided her into a gentle sway. She moved with you easily, her laughter light and bright as she leaned her head against your shoulder. The scent of her favorite perfume, a delicate blend of vanilla and white florals, mingled with the crisp night air, heightening the intimacy of the moment.

“Dancing under the stars,” she murmured, her voice soft and full of wonder. “You really do make everything feel magical.”

“You’re the magic,” you whispered, your lips brushing the top of her head. Her warmth against your chest, the way her body moved in sync with yours, and the way the world seemed to shrink until only the two of you remained—it was all so achingly perfect.

Her arms wrapped around your neck as you continued to sway, her cheek pressed against your chest. You could feel the rhythm of her heart, steady and strong, mirroring your own. The fairy lights twinkled in the corners of your vision, their glow reflecting in her dark, expressive eyes when she tilted her head to look up at you.

The music softened, the gentle melody wrapping around you both, and you knew it was the moment. You stopped swaying, stepping back just enough to hold her gaze, her curious smile tilting as she tried to read your expression.

“Jieun,” you began, your voice soft but steady, “these past few years have been the most incredible of my life. Every single day, you’ve shown me a kind of love and joy I never even knew existed. You make everything better, brighter, and more alive.”

Her brows knit together slightly, her lips parting as if to speak, but she stayed silent, her eyes searching yours.

Taking a deep breath, you dropped to one knee, pulling the small velvet box from your pocket. Her hand flew to her mouth as her eyes widened, shimmering with unshed tears. The fairy lights above reflected in the glistening drops as you opened the box, revealing the ring—a delicate, sparkling design you’d chosen just for her.

“You’ve made me a better person,” you continued, your voice thick with emotion. “And I want to spend the rest of my life making you as happy as you make me. I want to laugh with you, dream with you, and face every challenge together... Jieun, will you marry me?”

For a moment, the world seemed to hang in silence. Her hand remained pressed against her mouth, her eyes wide and shimmering with tears that reflected the glow of the fairy lights around you. Then, as if the dam holding back her emotions broke all at once, she let out a high-pitched squeal, her voice trembling with joy as her laughter spilled out between sobs.

She didn’t extend her hand or wait for you to slip the ring on. Instead, with an impulsive, raw burst of emotion, she dropped to her knees, throwing her arms around your neck. The velvet box in your hand tipped slightly as she buried her face in your shoulder, her whole body trembling against yours. “Yes!” she cried, her voice muffled but bursting with happiness. “Yes! Of course, yes!”

Her embrace was tight and unrelenting, her fingers clutching the back of your shirt as if she was afraid the moment might slip away. You wrapped your arms around her, holding her close, your heart swelling with an indescribable warmth. Her tears soaked into your shirt, her soft sobs punctuated by laughter that bubbled up uncontrollably.

“You’re shaking,” you murmured, your voice full of awe as you gently rubbed her back. “Are you okay?”

“I’m—” she hiccupped, her words faltering as she pulled back just enough to look at you. Her cheeks were streaked with tears, her smile so wide it looked like it might break her face. “I’m just so happy,” she managed, her voice trembling as fresh tears spilled down her cheeks. “I can’t even—” She shook her head, laughing softly through her sobs. “I can’t believe this is happening.”

With a tender smile, you reached up to brush her tears away, your thumb trailing along her damp skin. “It’s happening,” you said softly, meeting her gaze with all the love in your heart. 

Still trembling, she let out a watery laugh, finally glancing down at the ring in your hand. “The ring!” she said, her voice pitching higher as she held out her hand, her fingers still shaking slightly.

You slipped the ring onto her finger with care, marveling at how perfectly it fit, as though it had been waiting for this moment all along. Her breath caught as she stared at it, her lips parting in disbelief. “It’s beautiful,” she whispered, her voice breaking. “It’s… perfect.”

“Just like you,” you replied, pulling her back into your arms. She clung to you, her laughter mingling with her tears as she kissed your cheek, your neck, anywhere she could reach, her joy spilling over like a tidal wave.

“You have no idea how much this means to me,” she said through her tears, her voice soft but full of emotion. “You’ve given me everything. You’ve shown me what love is supposed to feel like.”

“And you’ve done the same to me” you replied, your voice thick with your own emotion. “You make me whole, Jieun. I’ve been waiting for this moment since the day I met you.”

She pulled back slightly, her hands coming up to frame your face. Her gaze locked onto yours, her eyes still swimming with tears but filled with a deep, unshakeable love. “I love you, so much” she whispered, her voice trembling with the sincerity of her words. “More than anything in this world.”

“I love you too,” you said, your forehead pressing gently against hers. “Forever.”

As the two of you knelt there beneath the twinkling fairy lights, the city below hummed softly, a quiet witness to the moment. The stars above seemed to shine brighter, as though celebrating your love alongside you. Jieun’s laughter, her tears, and the warmth of her touch wrapped around you like a cocoon, making the rest of the world fade into the background.

Finally, as the emotions began to settle, you both stood, your hands still entwined. The soft glow of the fairy lights played across her face, highlighting the dreamy smile that had yet to fade. She glanced down at the ring on her finger again, tilting her hand slightly to catch the light. “This feels like a dream,” she murmured, her voice tinged with wonder and disbelief.

“It’s real,” you said softly, bringing her hand to your lips and pressing a tender kiss to her knuckles. “And it’s just the beginning of our forever.”

Her smile widened, but as you gazed at her, the weight of the moment suddenly hit you harder than you expected. Your chest tightened, a swell of emotions rising so quickly it left you breathless. A lump formed in your throat as your eyes began to well, and despite your efforts to blink them away, a tear slipped down your cheek.

Jieun’s expression softened instantly, her brows knitting together in concern. “Oh, honey,” she whispered, stepping closer as her hand cupped your cheek. Her thumb brushed away the tear with infinite gentleness. “What’s wrong?” she asked, her voice soft and steady, laced with quiet reassurance.

You let out a shaky laugh, shaking your head as you reached up to cover her hand with yours. “It’s nothing bad,” you managed, your voice trembling with the weight of everything you felt. “It’s just… I’ve never felt this lucky. Like, what did I ever do to deserve you? To deserve this?”

Her lips parted as she took in your words, but she didn’t speak right away. Instead, she pulled you into a tight hug, wrapping her arms around you with a fierce, grounding warmth. Her head rested against your chest, her breath slow and even as if willing you to mirror her calm.

“I just…” You exhaled, your hands resting on her back as you clung to her. “You make everything feel so… right. I never imagined I’d find someone who’d see me the way you do. You’re my everything, Jieun. And knowing you feel the same… it’s overwhelming.”

She pulled back slightly, her eyes glistening as they searched yours. Her hands cupped your face, and without a word, she leaned in and kissed you deeply, pouring all her emotions into the connection. It was warm and soft, filled with unspoken comfort and a promise that she would always be there.

When she pulled back, her smile was gentle, her eyes filled with quiet understanding. She rested her forehead against yours, her hands moving to hold your shoulders as if anchoring you to her. “I love you,” she whispered, the simple words carrying the weight of everything she felt. “More than anything.”

You nodded, a soft laugh escaping you as you brought your hands up to frame her face. “I love you too,” you murmured, your voice steadier now. “I just hope I can be everything you deserve.”

“You already are,” she replied softly, shaking her head as her fingers brushed your hair. “You’ve always been.”

Her reassurance washed over you like a balm, and you pressed another kiss to her forehead, lingering as the two of you stood wrapped in each other’s warmth. For a long moment, neither of you spoke, the silence filled only with the faint hum of the city below and the quiet rustling of the breeze.

When you finally stepped back, her radiant smile returned, lighting up her face. Her hand reached for yours again, intertwining your fingers as she glanced back at the sparkling city lights. “Come on,” she said softly, tugging you toward the edge of the rooftop. “Let’s soak this in. All of it.”

You followed her, wrapping your arm around her waist as you both looked out over the view. The night was cool but welcoming, and for the first time in your life, you felt truly complete. You glanced at her, marveling at how perfectly she fit against your side, her presence grounding you in a way nothing else ever had.

“Jieun,” you said, your voice low but full of conviction. “I’ll spend the rest of my life making you happy. I swear.”

She leaned her head against your shoulder, her hand tightening around yours. “You already do,” she whispered, her voice soft but filled with certainty.

The two of you stood there beneath the stars, the city a sea of glittering lights below. The moment was timeless, the love between you palpable and unshakable. And as her warmth pressed against you, you knew—this wasn’t just a new chapter. It was the story you’d been waiting to write your entire life.

[zaynveir]

Doing Christmas stuff with the Lads boys ⋆⁺₊❅⋆ ⁺

Pairings : zayne/xavier/rafayel/sylus x reader

-its only november but i needed to write something festive

-So I’m new to tumblr and this is my first time writing a post like this so please be nice 😭 if you have any feedback please share!

🎐𓍼ֶָ֢⊹ ࣪ ˖

Zayne

- you guys would definitely go to the local Christmas markets together and spend so much money on overpriced food.

- Because of Zayne’s sweet tooth, you would be checking out the stalls that would offer pancakes/waffles/churros that would have lightly dusted sugar or tons of nutella dripping from it.

- While walking around you would spot something but not buy it, Zayne would notice this and get it later as a gift.

- You would find a big Christmas tree and take a selfie with him and he would use it as the background for his phone.

- I would imagine there would be a street performer playing music and you would just stop and take in the beautiful song and just stand close to one another taking in the moment, hands intertwined.

- He would pick out an ornament to hang on the tree to remember that day.

Xavier

- okay so I think you and Xavier would go see the Christmas lights and walk through them.

- He would hold your hand the entire time and would wrap your scarf around you before giving you a warm smile.

- He would say things like “why does that reindeer look like that?” Or “that tree wasn’t decorated very well” which would make you laugh at how clueless he is.

- The different lighting would make him look even more pretty than he already does and you would capture it in so many photos.

- He would point out his favourite decorations and be so engrossed in the twinkling lights, that he wouldn’t even notice the cold air of the season. He would be so happy to share this evening with you.

- At the end of the night you would get hot chocolate and head back to his apartment, cuddle up in your matching pjs and watch some classic home alone.

Rafayel

- you can’t tell me that Rafayel wouldn’t take you ice skating in the winter months. He’d persuade you into going by saying things like

- “Cmon!…it will be an exercise to see how good your reflexes are from fighting all those wanderers.”

- He would try to be poetic and say “I would love to see you gliding around like a swan”

- You would be careful at first but you’d get the hang of it only falling on your butt 3 times, but Rafayel would surprisingly be clutching onto the side railings for dear life. You’d have to come over to him and teach him

- When you both got more comfortable it felt like the world melted away and it was just you two sharing a smooth dance

Sylus

- I think you and Sylus would do something like decorate the christmas tree together.

- “you don’t have a Christmas tree?! Do people in the N109 zone not have the Christmas spirit??”

“Sweetie I think people have bigger things to worry about than…a tree.”

- You would meticulously place ornaments only for him to place them somewhere else just to get a rise out of you.

- You would creep up behind Sylus and place the tinsel around him only for him to retaliate by chasing you to do the same to you.

- Mephisto would also take part placing the tinsel or decorations around the tree.

- At the end Sylus would lift you up to the top and you would place the star completing it.

[blueberrybirdsworld]

Collision 12/20

Summary:

Lando always had a type : blonde, models, not ready to settle down. Yet once he met her, all his world is changed and he slowly start to realises maybe he was wrong all this time.

It's a prequel story of The Cat Distribution System, on how Lando Norris fall in love with Ariana. Could be read seperatly.

Pairing : lando norris x original female character

Genre : SMAU, Fluff, slow burn, enventual smut and angst

Warning : SMUT (MDNI)

CHAPTER 12 :

Serie Masterlist

After the sun-drenched beach day, the golden glow of Brazil shifted into dusky pastels, warm oranges melting into lavender skies, soft shadows stretching over cobblestones. The group had retreated to the villa just long enough to shower off the salt, toss on some linen and perfume, and reemerge looking like they belonged in a vacation ad. 

They were headed out for dinner, not just any dinner, but the kind of magical, open-air seaside restaurant that only existed in memories and movie scenes. The table was long and candlelit, the ocean close enough to hear, and the air still smelled like coconut and sea salt. 

Lando was the first to walk down the cobbled street, flanked by the guys. 

He wore a white linen shirt, open just enough to show his chest, light-wash jeans slung low on his hips, a couple of chains glinting around his neck. He looked tanned, confident, and completely relaxed, until the moment she stepped out. 

Ariana wore a flowing, blush pink halter dress that danced around her ankles with every step. The fabric floated like air, cinched just slightly beneath her chest with a silver brooch. Her hair was down in loose waves, a single flower tucked behind her ear. 

And when she looked at him, cheeks a little flushed from the heat, barefoot sandals on her injured foot, Lando felt like the entire world tilted toward her. 

“You,” he said under his breath, barely audible. 

Ariana smiled softly. “Me?” 

“You’re not real.” 

She brushed a strand of hair behind her ear. “Don’t start. I’ll blush.” 

“You already are.” 

He took her hand, pressing a kiss to the back of it. “Let’s go, love.” 

The restaurant was alive with music and laughter. 

Everyone ordered cocktails, too many, probably. Max started a round of shots before the appetizers even landed. Kika and Pietra shared a fruit bowl cocktail so huge it came with a ladle. Charles insisted on picking the wine and somehow mispronounced the name so dramatically it became the night’s running joke. 

“Did you say Pinot Grisssssio?” Alexandra asked, laughing so hard she spilled her drink. 

Carlos leaned toward Ariana. “You know, Lando hasn’t stopped talking about you.” 

Lando gave him a death glare across the table. 

“Oh, don’t look at me like that,” Carlos grinned. “The man’s been walking around like a puppy with your name on his collar.” 

Ariana chuckled, eyes flicking to Lando’s. “That true?” 

Lando raised his glass. “No comment.” 

Pietra winked at her. “I’ve never seen him like this. It’s disgustingly adorable.” 

Eventually, full of food and warmth and far too many sugary drinks, they left the restaurant and wandered toward the beach. 

The group splintered, some skipping ahead, some linking arms, others leaning on each other. The moon had risen, casting silver across the dark waves, and the sand was soft beneath their feet. 

Lando stayed behind with Ariana. 

She walked slowly, barefoot, dress trailing along the sand, her arm looped around his for balance. 

“You okay?” he asked, watching her carefully. 

She nodded. “I’m great. Just… tired.” 

He smiled, shifting their pace. “Let’s take our time.” 

The others were distant shadows ahead, laughter echoing faintly. For a long while, they walked in quiet, only the hush of waves and the breeze in her hair between them. 

Ariana looked up at the stars. “Do you ever think about how lucky we are?” 

“All the time,” he said. “Especially right now.” 

She paused. “I was really scared, you know.” 

“When you got hurt?” 

She nodded. “It felt like everything I was built around disappeared. I didn’t know who I was anymore. And then… you answer my call.” 

He stopped walking. 

Turned to face her. 

“I didn’t just answer your call.” 

She looked up at him. 

“I answer because I missed you,” he continued, voice quieter now. “Because nothing felt the same after I left. I kept hearing your voice in my head. Seeing your face. I didn’t want this to be some short thing that ends with a flight.” 

Her lips parted, but she didn’t speak. 

“I know we didn’t define it,” he added. “But I want to. I want us to mean something. Even if we’re in different countries. Even if life gets messy. I’ll figure it out. If you want me to.” 

Ariana blinked once. Twice. 

Then said, almost whispering, “I want that too.” 

A soft smile grew on his lips. 

“Good,” he said. “Because I’m completely, stupidly, utterly into you.” 

She laughed, stepping forward, wrapping her arms around his neck. 

And under the stars, toes in the sand, she kissed him. 

Not like the other kisses. 

This one was slow, reverent. Like she was thanking the universe. Like she was finally allowing herself to fall. 

His hands found her waist, then her back, then her jaw, tugging her closer with the kind of desperation that came from days of restraint. Her body pressed into his, the cool breeze brushing between them, the sea singing its soft lullaby. 

When they broke apart, both breathless, he rested his forehead to hers. 

“I love this dress,” he whispered. 

She smiled. “You should see what’s under it.” 

He growled softly, half-laughing. “That’s dangerous talk.” 

“Walk me back?” she asked. 

“Anywhere.” 

And together, hand in hand, they walked slowly back along the moonlit shore, the others still distant ahead of them, their world tucked inside one quiet, perfect night. 

They didn’t speak the whole way back. 

They didn’t need to. 

Lando carried her in his back for the last few metters after she loose balance too many time on her injured feet. Ariana curled up against him, her cheek tucked into his shoulder, the blush pink dress whispering against his skin with every step. The sand clung to their feet, and the humid Brazilian night made her skin warm and soft in his arms. 

When they reached the villa’s gates, a few of the others were still lingering on the patio, Kika and Pierre tangled in a chair, Max nursing a beer and a sunburn, Carlos and Charles deep in some chaotic debate about who finished the shots first. 

The second Lando stepped through the garden path, with Ariana in his arms, the noise shifted. 

“Ayyyyy,” Max called, raising his bottle. “Here they are!” 

Pierre laughed. “He’s literally carrying her. Are you kidding me?” 

Rebecca clutched her chest dramatically. “True romance.” 

Kika grinned. “Don’t drop her, Norris.” 

“Shut up,” Lando said, but he was smiling, because he didn’t care. Not one bit. 

He didn’t pause. Just walked right past them all, Ariana tucked in his arms like she belonged there, her fingers curled in the fabric of his shirt. 

When they reached their room, someone whistled low behind them. 

“I hope the walls are thick!” Charles shouted. 

The moment the door slammed behind them, Lando caught her against it, mouth crashing into hers in a kiss that was more hunger than grace. Hands roamed wildly, her waist, her back, his fingers tangled in her hair, like he couldn’t decide what he needed to touch first. 

He kissed her hard, reckless, pulling breathless moans from her throat as he ground her body to the wall, his cock already straining desperately against the denim of his jeans. 

“God, I missed you,” he groaned against her lips, biting gently at her jaw. 

"Show me," she whispered, voice already shaking. 

Lando practically lifted her off her feet, carrying her the few stumbling steps to the bed. He set her down at the edge, but didn’t back off. His hands were already at the knot of her dress, yanking at the silky fabric like it offended him. 

“Is this okay?” he panted, breathless. 

“Yes," she gasped. "Please, Lando." 

The dress hit the floor in seconds, leaving her in just a wisp of lace panties, flushed and trembling, already breathless. 

“Fuck,” he groaned, falling to his knees between her thighs without hesitation. 

He didn't tease. Didn't waste a second. 

His hands gripped her thighs, spreading her open. He buried his face in her pussy, licking one long, filthy stripe through her folds before sealing his mouth around her clit. 

Ariana let out a broken cry, her head falling back, fists tangling in his curls. 

He groaned into her, the vibrations making her hips buck, grinding shamelessly against his mouth. 

"You taste so good, my love," he murmured against her, then dove back in — lapping at her like he was starving, like nothing else existed but her. 

He slid two fingers inside her at the same time, pumping them deep, curling up into the perfect spot, while his tongue flicked relentlessly over her clit. 

It was overwhelming. 

She was already soaked, trembling, helpless against the onslaught. 

“Lando—fuck—I’m—” she sobbed, thighs squeezing around his head. 

He grunted and sucked harder, fingers working faster. 

She shattered, loud, wild, crying his name as she came on his tongue, thighs quivering, pulling his hair so hard he moaned against her. 

He didn’t stop. 

He worked her through it, drawing every last spasm from her until she collapsed back onto the bed, panting, too sensitive and dizzy to think. 

Only then did he finally lift his head, chin shiny, eyes dark and wrecked. 

He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, grinning darkly. 

He stripped fast, shirt, jeans, boxers, his cock flushed and thick, slapping against his stomach. 

Ariana reached for him, wrapping her hand around him, and he hissed, hips jerking forward into her palm. 

"You're trying to kill me," he muttered, grabbing her wrist and pushing her back onto the bed. 

He grabbed a condom from the nightstand, ripped it open with trembling fingers, and rolled it on fast. 

Then he was on top of her, body heavy and solid and hot against hers, kissing her hard again as he lined himself up and pushed inside in one brutal, perfect thrust. 

They both cried out, Ariana clawing at his shoulders, Lando gasping like he was drowning. 

He set a hard, punishing rhythm, fucking her deep and fast, grinding into her clit every time he slammed back. The bed rocked, the headboard slammed rhythmically into the wall, and neither of them cared. 

"Harder," she begged, nails raking down his back. 

Lando growled and pinned her wrists above her head, thrusting even deeper, until her breath was ripped from her lungs with every movement. 

But after a while, she shoved at his chest, panting, desperate. 

"Let me," she gasped. "I want to ride you." 

His eyes went wide, feral. He flipped them instantly, collapsing onto his back and dragging her on top of him. 

Ariana wasted no time, grabbing his cock, lining herself up, and sinking down onto him in one slow, devastating slide. 

Lando howled, a raw, broken sound, hands flying to her hips, grabbing hard enough to bruise. 

"Fuck, Ari—" he choked out, head thrown back, eyes squeezed shut. 

She started moving, slow, grinding rolls of her hips, dragging her clit perfectly against his pelvis. 

Lando’s hands flexed on her hips, trying to stay still, trying not to lose it. 

"You like this?" she teased, voice wrecked and breathless. 

He just groaned, loud, desperate, the sound tearing straight from his chest. 

He thrust up into her involuntarily, hips jerking, chasing her heat like he couldn’t help himself. 

"You’re so fucking good," he gasped. "Gonna fucking come if you keep doing that." 

Ariana laughed breathlessly, riding him harder — bouncing in messy, frantic thrusts that had Lando clawing at her waist, totally wrecked under her. 

But her thighs started shaking, muscles burning, her rhythm faltering. 

"Lando—my legs—" 

He kept his hands tight on her hips but didn’t flip her again. 

Instead, he thrust up into her, hard, deep strokes from underneath, slamming into her again and again. 

Ariana sobbed, body rocking helplessly, her hands grabbing at his chest for balance. 

He pounded into her, panting against her skin, whispering her name like a prayer. 

“Come for me, love,” he gasped. “Come with me.” 

And she did, hard, clenching around him with a cry, body locking up, eyes squeezed shut. 

Lando followed almost instantly a wrecked, desperate groan tearing from his throat, thrusting deep and grinding hard as he spilled into the condom, body trembling under hers. 

They collapsed into a sweaty, tangled heap, Ariana sprawled over his chest, both of them gasping like they’d run a marathon. 

Lando’s arms wrapped tight around her, holding her against him like he physically couldn’t let go. 

He kissed her hair, her shoulder, the side of her neck, small, dazed kisses between every ragged breath. 

"You okay?" she asked, teasing gently, still panting. 

He just moaned weakly against her neck. 

"Lando," she teased, laughing softly. "You’re suffocate me right now." 

He groaned again, louder this time and flipped them onto their sides, tucking her under his chin like a blanket he refused to give up. 

"Can't’ help myself," he mumbled against her hair. "M’serious. You’re perfect." 

Ariana curled into his chest, her fingers drawing soft patterns over his heart. 

Lando kissed the top of her head. 

“I didn’t know it could feel like that,” she whispered. 

“Me neither.” 

“I think I’m in love with you.” she confess. 

His arms tightened. 

“I know I’m in love with you.” Lando answers. 

And beneath the stars still shining through the window, they held each other. 

Not just after sex. 

Not just after the high. 

But after the start of something real. 

Taglist : @angelluv16, @httpsxnox, @anunstablefangirl, @chocolatemagazinecupcake, @mayax2o07, @freyathehuntress, @verogonewild, @lilyofthevalley-09, @esw1012, @its-me-frankie, @linneaguriii, @ezzi-ln4, @rlbmutynnek, @actuallyazriel, @sofs16, @thulior, @sltwins, @knivesdoingcartwheels, @henna006, @stylesmoonlight12

Let me know if you wanted to be added to the taglist !

[girlkisser13]

dating wally west would include

• he ADORES making you laugh. he just loves hearing the sound of your laughter.

• whenever he makes a joke he always looks at you to see your reaction.

• you always make sure that you are stocked up on food. but sometimes, you hide your favorite foods so that he doesn’t eat them.

• wally loves to take you on thrilling dates where he runs you to different cities or countries in a matter of seconds. a quick lunch in paris or a sunset view from the top of the himalayas becomes a regular thing.

• he will literally travel anywhere and get you something to make you feel happy.

• his boundless energy means he’s always up for adventures and activities. he keeps you on your toes, whether it’s impromptu dance parties or late-night ice cream runs.

• as someone with a high metabolism, wally is a big foodie. he loves trying out new restaurants, food trucks, and cuisines with you. he’s always hungry, so snack dates are a must.

• despite his playful nature, wally is fiercely protective of you. he’s always quick to jump into action if you’re in any danger, using his speed to ensure you’re safe.

• he loves to tease and joke around with you. his sense of humor keeps things light and fun, and he knows how to make you laugh, even on your worst days.

• despite his laid-back demeanor, wally is quite the romantic. he often surprises you with flowers, handwritten notes, and sweet gestures that show how much he cares.

• wally is deeply emotional (surprisingly) and cares deeply about the people he loves. he’s not afraid to show vulnerability with you, sharing his fears and hopes.

• this man is CLINGY. he literally tries to climb and cling to you like a monkey, even if you are smaller than him (not that you’re complaining though).

• if you’re shorter than him, he places all of your things on higher shelves just so that you have to ask him for help, receiving lots of forehead kisses and giving him lots of cheek kisses mainly on your tiptoes.

• if you’re taller than him, him getting pouty if you put his things higher up, him having more reasons to be clingy and "surprising" you by jumping on your back for piggybacks.

• wally enjoys keeping fit and loves to include you in his training sessions. he’ll tailor workouts to your level, and you two often end up having fun races or friendly competitions.

• wally's a book nerd. he speed reads every single book he reads. he loves sharing his favorite books with you and will read them out loud at super-speed, making sure you both can enjoy stories together quickly.

• he has a knack for fixing things at lightning speed. he loves doing diy projects around the house with you, whether it’s building new furniture, fixing broken items, or redecorating.

• he’s a HUGE fan of movie marathons. given his super-speed, he can watch an entire season of a show in a few hours, but he’s more than happy to slow down and binge-watch your favorite series or movie franchise with you.

• you guys constantly engage in competitions, whether it’s video games, sports, or even who can eat the most. he loves the friendly rivalry and always lets you win sometimes.

• wally loves holidays and goes all out for celebrations. he’ll decorate, cook, and plan activities to make each holiday special, whether it’s halloween, christmas, or even lesser known holidays.

• his love for science often translates into fun experiments at home. he enjoys sharing his knowledge with you and conducting safe, fun experiments that sometimes lead to hilarious or fascinating results.

• wally’s ability to travel anywhere in seconds means you two create incredible memories from all around the world. You’ll have countless stories and souvenirs from the various places you’ve visited together.

• he loves to sing along to music. he often ropes you into singing duets with him. it doesn’t matter if you’re a great singer or not; the fun and joy of singing together is what counts.

• despite his love for food, wally isn’t the best cook. you two often have hilarious cooking sessions where you try to follow recipes, sometimes with comically disastrous results, but always with lots of laughter.

• he LOVES surprising you with spontaneous dates. one moment you’re at home, and the next, you’re at a concert, a carnival, or a beautiful scenic spot. his creativity keeps your relationship exciting and unpredictable.

• need to get somewhere in a hurry? wally’s got you covered. whether you’re running late for work or need a quick ride to a friend’s place, wally is always ready to zoom you to your destination.

• he’s your own personal chauffeur. <33

[jibitzlesscrocs]

Can you do part 3 of Kid for a day where matt and your family meet riley? if you dont want to thats totally okay

AHH of course!!! you’re a gem for suggesting this

matt sturniolo x reader

warnings: none

the whole series and more

kid for a day pt.3

in which, the stages of little riley

Newborn Riley is tiny. Like, impossibly tiny.

When the nurse first hands her to you, she looks more like a delicate doll than a real person. Her fingers are barely as long as your pinky nail, her cheeks soft and flushed from the world’s grandest welcome. Matt hovers near you, eyes wet and unbelieving, like he still thinks someone’s going to come in and say, Just kidding, not yours.

But she is. Every blink. Every breath. Every sleepy squeak she makes from that bundle of pink blankets.

Matt holds her against his chest, and you swear the whole room shifts around them. Like the world’s never seen anything so right.

⸻

The Early Days

Marylou comes over the next day with two casseroles, a batch of fresh cookies, and eyes that instantly well with tears when she sees Riley asleep on your chest.

“She has your nose,” she whispers to Matt, cupping his face with one hand and Riley’s tiny foot with the other.

She doesn’t leave for hours. She folds laundry, rocks Riley while humming something soft and sweet, and tells you stories about baby Matt that make you laugh until it hurts.

Chris and Nick show up a few days later. Chris wears a fake “World’s Best Uncle” badge. Nick brings a baby-sized beanie that says “Mini Sturniolo” and insists it’s stylish.

Riley, naturally, throws up on both of them within minutes.

“She’s one of us,” Chris declares proudly, dabbing spit-up off his shirt with a dish towel.

***

Your own family visits with bags of food, toys, books, and more advice than you could possibly need — but the love behind every comment softens it all. Your mom cries when she holds Riley for the first time, murmuring your name like a prayer.

“She’s so much like you,” she says, and you don’t ask what she means, because it doesn’t matter. You already feel it.

Riley is a little bit of everyone — Matt’s sleepy smile, your round cheeks, Nick’s expressive eyebrows (somehow). But she’s also entirely herself.

Growing Up, Slowly

She learns to sit up while Chris sings off-key beside her on the floor. Claps for the first time when Nick lets her slap his cheeks gently and dramatically fakes a fall. Her first word? “No,” of course — Matt had her repeat it like a game one too many times.

Marylou knits her tiny sweaters and leaves little notes inside the sleeves. “Stay warm, lovebug,” one says in early spring. You keep them all in a box in the closet, already imagining Riley reading them when she’s older.

Matt teaches her how to blow raspberries. You teach her how to dance badly to ‘80s music in the kitchen. Every night ends the same: her tucked between you both, half-asleep, Matt’s hand resting over her tummy like a shield.

“She’s growing too fast,” you whisper.

“I know,” Matt murmurs. “But she’s got us. Every step.”

Riley Turns One

You don’t sleep the night before Riley’s birthday.

Not because she’s crying — she actually sleeps like a rock, drooling on Matt’s shoulder in the early morning hours — but because you’re sitting on the floor of the living room, surrounded by pink streamers and little paper hats that say ONE-derful, wondering how the hell time moved this fast.

Matt’s asleep on the couch, one arm behind his head, the other wrapped protectively around Riley, who’s curled into his chest like she was molded to fit there. Her hair’s getting longer now — still soft and wispy, curling around her ears — and her cheeks are so round you could cry looking at them.

You crawl over, press a kiss to Riley’s forehead, then one to Matt’s. He stirs and mumbles, eyes still closed, “S’her birthday, huh?”

“Yeah,” you whisper. “She’s one.”

He opens one eye, reaches up and pulls you down gently until your cheek rests against his. “Best year of my life,” he says, voice rough with sleep but warm.

Riley snuffles and shifts, her tiny hand patting at his shirt, and Matt grins like the sun’s rising inside him.

⸻

The party is small — just close friends and family, cupcakes with too much frosting, and a playlist that accidentally loops the Bluey theme song five times. Riley wears a ruffled dress she immediately tries to eat, and Matt keeps lifting her up like Simba, declaring, “One year old! One! A whole year!” to anyone who will listen (including the mailman).

And then Mila arrives.

She steps in, sparkly headband on, holding a gift bag bigger than her. Immediately, she scans the room like a celebrity stepping onto a red carpet — and when her eyes land on Riley, something flickers behind them.

She marches up to Matt first. “Hi. I made you a card. It’s pink but not too pink.”

Matt kneels down, visibly delighted. “Pink-but-not-too-pink is my favorite. Thank you, Mila Bean.”

You can see her swell up at that. She even does the little shrug-smirk she’s famous for — the one that says I know I’m amazing, but I’ll accept your praise.

And then she looks at Riley.

“Oh,” she says, simply.

Riley is busy trying to remove her sock with her teeth.

Mila leans a bit closer. “That’s her?”

Matt nods. “That’s our Riley.”

“She’s kinda… bald.”

Matt tries to suppress a laugh. “She’s working on it.”

“She doesn’t even know how to read.”

“She just learned how to clap.”

You’re watching this exchange from the couch, biting your lip, unsure where it’s going. You love Mila like your own — you always have — but this is new territory. For so long, she was the baby. She had Matt wrapped around her little finger. And now there’s someone new in the picture.

Mila crosses her arms. “You and Matt used to make such a big deal out of me.”

You stand and walk over, crouching beside her. “We still do. You’re our Mila. That never changed.”

“But now she’s here,” Mila says, frowning slightly at Riley, who is now gumming the corner of a party napkin.

Matt scoops Mila up gently, settling her on his hip. “Hey. You wanna know a secret?”

She raises an eyebrow. “What.”

“You’re the reason we even knew how to love a little girl like this. You taught us. You were the first.”

Mila blinks, lips twitching into a reluctant smile. “Really?”

Matt kisses her temple. “Really. But you wanna know what’s cooler?”

“…What.”

“She needs you now. Like, big time. You get to be her hero. Her ‘big sister’ ”

There’s a pause. You swear you can see Mila’s brain running a full montage of what that means: tea parties, matching outfits, teaching Riley the lyrics to theme songs, showing her how to properly sass adults.

“…Okay,” she says, sliding down. “I’ll take care of her. But only if I can come over, like, all the time.”

Matt grins. “It’s a deal.”

And just like that, Mila is on the floor, gently trying to hand Riley a squishy purple octopus toy.

“Don’t eat it,” she warns. “It’s just pretend.”

Riley, of course, tries to eat it.

Mila sighs like she’s aged twenty years. “It’s okay. She’ll learn.”

⸻

Later that evening, after everyone’s gone and Riley’s passed out in her birthday pajamas, Matt’s lying in bed with her nestled on his chest. You walk in with a warm washcloth and find him there — his thumb gently stroking her back, her tiny fingers curled around the collar of his shirt.

“She’s perfect,” he whispers, like he still can’t believe it.

You kiss the top of his head. “She loves you so much.”

“She smiled in her sleep just now. Swear she did.”

You smile, crawling in beside them and kissing Riley’s soft cheek, then Matt’s jaw, then his lips.

“Happy first birthday to our baby girl,” you whisper.

Matt looks at both of you, his eyes full.

“Best day of my life,” he says. “Again.”

taglist : @courta13 , @sunkissedsturniolos

MAI’S STORE

requested by @mattspillowprincess , when i read this request i absolutely HAD to write it instantly! also i HAD to tie mila back to thisssss

i hope this is what you had in mind !!

also please tell me if this sucked 😭 and request moreee i love doing them

[mrsknowitallll]

Come Hell Or High Water

Sammie “Preacher boy” x Black Plus Size Reader

Summary - What was supposed to be a night full of fun, a night filled with passion turns into something else entirely, something that’ll change the trajectory of both your lives forever.

Warning: Child abuse and neglect, smut, murder, foul language, violence

A/N - This one is a little bit heavy with some sensitive topics. If any of the things mentioned above trigger you I highly recommend skipping this fic, I have more in my masterlist pinned on my page that are much lighter. Hope you guys enjoy! I just loveeee me some Sammie. 🤭

You sighed heavily, wiping the sweat from your brow as you finished sweeping up the kitchen.

Your father was away visiting some relatives up north for a few days so you had the place to yourself for a while but that didn't mean that the work ever stopped.

"Keep up with the land and keep my god damn house clean, if I come back to some mess we gone have a problem you hea?" He grabbed onto the back of your neck roughly.

"Yes papa." You stiffened in his hold, nodding as best as you could.

But the weekend was just around the corner and after the week you had, you just wanted to relax a bit, take some of the edge off.

When you heard about the opening of Club Juke you just had to attend. Word spread that they were gonna have great food, top notch music and some and the world’s finest liquor, you’d be a fool to miss out. You weren't quite old enough to drink but you were old enough to get in and that's all that mattered to you.

You put on your best dress, a silk number that was a deep shade of red, it hugged your curves real nice, your ass especially.

You wrapped a matching shawl around your shoulders and slipped on your heels.

You grabbed your purse as you headed for the door, but not before looking at yourself one last time in your small kitchen mirror.

"Aren't you a little young to be here miss?" Cornbread questioned as you stepped near the entrance.

"I'm old enough and my money just as good as everyone else’s” You waved a few coins around, a few dollars you saved from babysitting.

His eyes followed the money, snatching it from your hands without hesitation and stepping aside to let you in.

Your ears perked up at the sound of singing, a smooth soulful voice coming from the small stage which was surrounded by people dancing so you couldn't quite see.

You walked over as if you were in a trance pushing people out of the way earning several curses from the other club patrons.

You eventually got to the front staring up at the culprit.

You felt heat pool from the top of your head all the way to the tips of your toes as you locked eyes with him.

His skin was smooth as silk, a pretty dark brown that seemed to glisten even under the dim lighting in the club, he was dressed in a simple suit, nothing too fancy, good enough for the little joint, just right for him, and his slender fingers strummed his guitar beautifully, fingers dancing over the strings like magic.

You drank him in like a glass of wine, eyes eventually sliding back up to meet his once more.

He grinned down at you, shooting you a wink.

You looked away feeling your face flush, thank god it wasn't visible.

After a while you settled down at the bar, still stealing glances at the boy from across the room, him doing the same.

Finally he began to approach you and you did your best to act casual, if casual was adjusting your outfit and asking the bartender if you looked okay.

"My, my aren't you pretty." He whistled eyes trailing your frame causing you to squirm.

"And you're quite the charmer." You smirked trying to play it cool.

"You enjoy the show?" He questioned taking a seat next to you.

"Absolutely, you sure can blow." You shot him a compliment causing him to grin.

"That ain't the only thing this mouth of mine can do." He leaned in, hand brushing your thigh.

"If i didn't know any better i'd say you was tryna sweet talk your way into my drawls. You don't even know my name, how you know i ain't a serial killer?" You teased.

"It would be an honor to die by these pretty hands of yours." He intertwined his fingers with yours, kissing your knuckles sweetly.

"You wanna get out of here?" You squeezed your thighs together, staring at him hungrily.

"Sure thing." He placed his hat on his head, placing his guitar over his shoulders.

You giggled as his lips trailed from your neck down to your exposed chest, his hands gripping your wide hips tightly.

"As much as i would love to take you right here right now, i think we better go somewhere more private." He glanced around the dark woods wearily.

"My house is near by, my pa gone for the week, it'll just be you and me." You pecked his lips smiling wickedly.

He scooped you up in his arms, and took off running, surprising you with his strength.

You laughed until your stomach started to hurt, hitting his shoulders, squealing for him to put you down.

He finally did once he reached your porch, setting you down gently.

As soon as you unlocked the door he was on you, hands sliding beneath your dress, grabbing ahold of your thighs and lifting you up, placing you on your kitchen counter, lips attacking yours in a rough, sloppy kiss.

He unbuttoned his pants quickly, slipping them down just enough to pull out his hard length.

You spat on your hand, wetting it before grabbing his dick, stroking painfully slow.

He ripped your panties off, fingers dipping into your core, your arousal soaking them.

Just before he could sink into you the door was slung open, revealing the one person you weren't expecting to see for at least another day or two.

You jumped from the counter quickly pulling down your dress.

You shook in fear as he surveyed the scene, his face contorting quickly, from shock to blind rage.

"I leave you 'lone for a few days and i come back to you spread open on my kitchen counter like some hooker!" Your father screamed sending a harsh slap across your face.

"Now wait just a minute mister ain't no need for all that, it was me that came onto her." Sammie struggled to keep his pants up.

Your father swung on him, landing a clean hit on his jaw causing the boy to stumble.

You ran over to him, holding his face in your hands.

"You alright?" You questioned, tears brimming your eyes.

He nodded.

"Come hea!" Your father grabbed you by your hair suddenly, dragging you out the front door and tossing you onto the lawn.

He proceeded to stomp on you like he was putting out a cigarette bud, not beating the life out of his daughter, his only child.

You placed your arms over your head protectively, screaming in agony, the pain unbearable.

It all abruptly stopped when you heard gunshots ring out.

Sammie stood beside you, your father's shot gun in hand, his lifeless body now lying next to yours, blood staining blades of grass.

You stood on shaky feet wincing, arm gripping your middle.

You spared a single glance at your father, face blank.

You weren’t fazed by his death, that man never loved you, never cared for you, hell he began beating the daylights out of you the moment you learned to walk and talk so why should you give a fuck if he lived or died?

What you were worried about though was Sammie, you snatched the gun from his hands tossing it to the ground.

He shook rapidly, tears streaming down his face like a waterfall.

"Hey, hey! Look at me, don't go there okay? Come back to me." You tapped the sides of his face attempting to snap him back into reality.

"I- i gotta call Sm-Smoke a- and Stack, We gotta get rid of him we gotta get him outta here." The boy grabbed your father by his feet and began dragging him back into the house.

You took ahold of his arms, helping him.

“You stay here ight? I’ll be back soon.” Sammie adjusted his clothes.

“Like hell I am, I ain’t letting you go nowhere by yourself, not with the state you in, nor am I staying here with a dead man, i’m going with you!” You persisted, slipping your shoes back on.

Sammie knew there was no point in arguing with you so he just let you follow him.

“Well i’ll be.. damn lil man I ain’t know you had it in you!” Stack crouched down in front of your father’s body, observing the bullet wound.

You huffed in annoyance at the man’s antics.

He had been cracking jokes since the two of you went and got him, nothing bout the situation y’all were in was a laughing matter.

“Look, Stack was it? I don’t know if you noticed but Sammie’s not taking this too well, see he just killed a man and while that may be a tuesday for you and your brother it’s obviously a life changing experience for him, he’s clearly traumatized and now is not the time for games. You gone help us get rid of this motherfucker or is your comedy special gone run all night?” You crossed your arms stepping into his face, gritting your teeth.

Sammie grabbed your hand squeezing tightly, a silent show of gratitude.

You just glanced over at him smiling weakly.

Stack pursed his lips, eyes widening slightly.

He burst out laughing after a few seconds, holding onto his gut like you said the funniest thing in the world.

“My fault little lady, I ain’t mean no harm.” He held his hands up in surrender.

“She a keeper lil Sammie.” He briefly glanced over at the boy, winking.

“Me and Smoke gone take care of this here, the two of y’all just worry bout getting the fuck outta town.” He looked between the both of you.

“What?!” You spoke in unison.

“Y’all killed a man a skip and a hop away from a club full of people, you think they ain’t hear them gunshots? You think niggas ain’t gone ask questions? They gone notice this motherfucker is gone sooner or later and connect the dots. Don’t you got family? You think they ain’t gone wonder what the fuck happened to this nigga? That they ain’t gone come snooping round? Y’all gotta get the fuck up outta here, quick ‘fore the sun come up.” Smoke glared at the two of you.

“My entire life here in Mississippi, i can’t just pack up and go, leave everything i know behind.” You stared at the man in disbelief.

“We ain’t got no choice.” Sammie spoke gruffly.

You turned toward him, a “you can’t be serious” expression on your face.

“Look I get where you coming from, ion wanna leave mississippi behind either, my ma and pa, my brothers and sisters, but we ain’t got no choice in the matter now, what’s done is done, we gotta go.” He grabbed your hands intertwining them with his pulling you closer to him, planting a sweet kiss on your lips.

“Enough of that lovey dovey shit get the fuck on.” Stack waved them off.

You packed as many clothes as you could into a small duffle, gathering some of your father’s old clothes for Sammie as well.

You tossed the bag in the back of the car, hopping into the passenger side, Sammie on the drivers side, the engine already running.

“You stay safe, keep yo eyes peeled and yo head down.” Stack pat Sammie on the head.

“And protect ya lady, that mouth of hers gone get y’all in a world of trouble.” He teased.

You flipped him off causing him to chuckle.

After you said your goodbyes you and Sammie took off down the road, wind whipping against your faces, minds running a mile a minute.

You placed your hand on the back of Sammie’s head, fingers kneading through his hair gently, soothing him.

“I’m sorry I got you into all this mess, if it wasn’t for me you’d still be with your folks in that club, playing music, having yourself a good time.” You sighed heavily staring down at your feet.

“Hey look at me.” He took his eyes off the road for a moment to look at you.

You glanced up meeting his soft gaze.

“I ain’t worried bout none of that nonsense, the club, the music, none of it. If I didn’t do what i did that man would’ve killed you and i definitely wouldn’t be able to live with myself then.” He shook his head.

“Plus I been unhappy here for a long time, I always said i wanted to see the world, now’s my chance.” He confessed.

“And music don’t just exist in the Delta, it lives right here within me.” He pointed at his chest.

“No matter how far I travel the music ain’t gone ever leave my side.” He smiled pridefully.

“I got all I need right here, just you, me and the blues.”

[kamaluhkhan]

LONG HOT SUMMER NIGHT

pairing: luke castellan x fem!poseidon!reader word count: 8.4k chapter summary: it's the summer solstice and olympus is throwing a party! thalia notices the tension between you and luke, poseidon gives you some relationship advice and you punch the god of desire in the face. warnings: angst! jealous reader. lots of drinking. complicated relationships. reader dealing with ptsd + survivor's guilt (post-titan war). mention of injuries + blood. creepy guy pushing reader to hook up. ending is a bit steamy but no actual smut. spoilers for the entire pjo (book) series. no betrayal (au where chris was the one who sided w kronos and led the titan army) so slightly ooc luke <3 also reader is in a band called the midnight sirens and is born on the summer solstice! author's note: thank you so much for all the love for part 1!! summer is almost over and this is very much a summer series BUT summer's not over yet !!! hope y'all enjoy this one too and thanks 4 reading 💙

part 1 | series masterlist

♪: long hot summer night by jimi hendrix

mail to: 

Luke Castellan Camp Half-Blood, Half-Blood Hill 3.141 Farm Road Long Island, New York 11954

LUKE! 

I’m sitting in my kitchen right now, watching Percy make us blue blueberry pancakes and hoping he doesn’t burn down my kitchen while doing so. I caved and agreed to take him to Disneyland while he’s here and breakfast was part of the deal, but I think I might regret it later. 

We went surfing yesterday. It was Percy’s first time, but he was (unsurprisingly) amazing at it. I still can’t get over how beautiful the beaches are and the waves — gods, the waves are unreal. You’d seriously love it here. It’s like every day is summer. You have to come visit. PLEASE come visit!!!!

- [your initial]

P.S. The band and I are working on some new music, which means I won’t make it to camp again this summer. I’m sorry ;( Fingers crossed I’ll make it next year. 

P.P.S. hi luke! happy to report that i did not burn down my sister’s kitchen. anyways, can’t wait to kick your ass in sword-fighting this summer. xoxo, percy

THREE YEARS LATER 

the first time you visited olympus, you had been sent on a quest to retrieve zeus’ stolen lightning bolt, bringing luke and charles beckendorf along with you. you had missed the summer solstice deadline, but still tried to reason with the king of the gods when presenting the symbol of power, maybe calling him out once or twice along the way. before zeus could strike you down for your boldness, poseidon stepped in. the war between them was averted in fear of a much larger, looming threat; an ominous introduction for what was to come in the next chapter of your life.

another time, the gods debated whether or not they should kill you, some seeing you as a threat to their future. that was the day you accepted your destiny, not wanting your brother percy or your cousin nico to deal with the weight of the great prophecy. 

your last visit to olympus was on your 18th birthday, after helping to defeat kronos and his army. you made the gods swear to stop neglecting their kids and to allow all demigods, regardless of whether their parent was an olympian or not, to have a home at camp half-blood; to treat their children as children rather than heroes as pawns in their twisted games.

needless to say, it’s quite strange, being back here under very, very different circumstances, where the gods invited camp half-blood’s senior counsellors and staff to join in their summer solstice festivities.

it’s not every day you’ll be invited to a party on olympus; you’re determined to have a good time, to have fun. there’s already an abundance of music, dancing, food, or alcohol, and the night is just getting started.

you’re happy to be there with new and old friends, but you’re ecstatic when you see that thalia grace is there, too. 

“immortality looks good on you, t!” you compliment, raising your voice slightly over the music.

thalia preens, and you bask in her silver glow. 

“bet you wish you took the gods up on their offer, huh,” she teases. then, her eyes widen. “oh - shit! it’s your birthday! happy birthday!” 

thalia tackles you with another hug; even after all these years, she still smells like pine trees. she grabs two goblets of honeyed wine and hands one to you as you catch up. you eagerly gulp the sweet drink, until you’re reaching for another while listening to her stories about adventures she’d been on with the hunters of artemis. 

about halfway through her story about fighting off a manticore during a snow storm, a nymph appears with a platter of the ripest of fruit – sweet plums and fresh figs, tantalising pomegranates, succulent grapes and crisp apples. 

“oh my gods, this is the best apple i’ve had in my entire life!” thalia exclaims after indulging in a taste, herself giddy from a few goblets of wine. “where’s luke? he’s gotta try this — he’s always reminding us to eat more fruit. luke!” 

you hadn’t kept track of luke, at least not on purpose. you assumed he’d been off partying with van or his siblings, and, probably, avoiding you. wherever he was, thalia calls his name twice more and, like a ghost, luke appears. 

“i’m here, t.” luke’s voice is a deep, steady rumble floating above the music. his cheeks are slightly flushed, either from the heat or the drinks. likely both. “what’s up?”

“you need to try this.” thalia shoves the apple in his mouth before luke can respond. 

luke takes a bite, and some juice drips down his chin. you, in a honey-soaked haze, think about running your tongue over to catch it, but he beats you to it, wiping it away with the back of his hand. 

probably for the best.

“holy shit. yeah, it’s good.”

thalia, a sparkle in her eyes, urges you to try it as well. from across the makeshift triangle the three of you had formed, luke tosses the apple your way. you catch it effortlessly, and sink your teeth into it. 

you’ve almost overwhelmed by the burst of flavor. the fruit is just the right amount of tart to balance out the sweetness, and it’s damn near the best crunch you’ve ever experienced.

“good is an understatement,” you say after another bite. a distant memory crosses your mind. “i wonder if these are the same ones we almost got killed by a hellhound for.” 

thalia shakes her head, laughing in disbelief. “all because luke said we needed more vitamin c.”

“i was just looking out for us!” luke guffaws. “how was i supposed to know that persephone owned an apple orchard in connecticut?”

you pat his shoulder, the three of you smiling at the memory. “let’s call it an honest mistake.”

“well if annabeth had been with us by then, i’m sure that she wouldn’t have made that same honest mistake.” 

“okay, but she’s the daughter of athena —”

you let luke and thalia slip back into their playful bickering as if no time has passed. you listen and continue eating that glorious apple, enjoying how the golden glow of your shared past fills whatever distance might have grown between the three of you. 

somewhere down memory lane, luke’s amber eyes flick towards you.

“hey, you’ve got some….” without another word, luke suddenly reaches over to brush away a trail of juice with his thumb before sticking the finger in his mouth to savour the taste. he holds your gaze as he does so, and you feel a familiar kind of heat rush through your body — not from alcohol or summer sun, but from luke. 

it’s such an intimate gesture that you almost forget that you’re at some extravagant party on mount olympus, where gods and half-bloods and a whole bunch of other mythological creatures are celebrating the start of summer by essentially getting drunk together, until thalia clears her throat. 

“okay, well, seems like the two of you might want some alone time.”

luke’s cheeks grow more flushed than before, and his eyes widen as if realizing what he’d done.

“oh, we don’t need —”

“we’re not —”

you and luke both stumble over your words; thalia just smiles knowingly. 

“i’m gonna go flirt with that nymph,” she announces, pointing across the grand marble pavilion.

“i thought — doesn’t artemis sort of frown upon that sort of thing?” you ask.

“she makes exceptions on holidays. besides, i’m her favourite. you guys have fun.” thalia winks at you and walks away.

you glance at luke and, gods, there’s so much history between you. 

the time you jumped into an ocean full of sirens to save luke from drowning? you have a scar running down your forearm where one of them scratched you as you struggled to get luke towards the surface. 

or when you took turns holding up the sky while on a quest to save lady artemis and defeat the titan atlas? it’s evident in the matching streaks of grey that you each have running through your hair. whenever you see your reflection in the mirror, you remember how you couldn’t save your cousin bianca di angelo earlier that day, and how nico has had to grow up without a sister because of a promise you broke.

how about when you, luke, and one of your best friends were sent on a mission to destroy the princess andromeda, the headquarters of kronos’ army? only the two of you survived, and sometimes you can still feel luke squeezing your hand pike he did during charles beckendorf’s burial shroud ceremony while you both cried.

or when luke took a sword between the ribs for you because he, somehow, knew the one spot the curse of achilles left you vulnerable? he can only slouch for so long before the bones there start to ache.

so, yeah. there’s way too much history, and so many tangled threads, and now really isn’t an ideal time to unravel it all. 

“i’m gonna go find my dad,” you blurt out and disappear into the crowd with no real intention of finding your father. 

the once sweet apple now tastes rotten on your tongue; you rid yourself of it in exchange for some more wine. you’re determined to have fun — no pain or heartache or grief. 

you’ve all had enough of that for three lifetimes. 

summer — age 14

“sorry your birthday was ruined.” 

luke exhaled sharply when you pressed a disinfectant-soaked cloth to the wound on his leg.

“hold still,” was all you mumbled in response, brows knitted together as you wrapped the cut in gauze. 

once you were done with his leg, you moved on to luke’s hands, burned by poisonous acid. the four of you had run into a hydra earlier that night. you managed to wound it enough so you could all get away, but not before a few injuries were sustained. 

you were uncharacteristically quiet as you worked. you only met luke’s gaze to warn him before pouring some nectar on his wounds. you let luke hold your hand, tightly, as the liquid dripped through his fingers and down to yours, first right, then left. the pain was instant, seering almost as much as the hydra acid, but it was over quickly. the last thing you did was bandage each hand before getting up. 

“i’m…i’m gonna check on thalia and annabeth. i’ll take first watch.”

luke caught your hand before you got away.

“wait. you’re bleeding.” he pointed to the cut on your brow. you had been so preoccupied in making sure everyone else was safe that you let crimson liquid drip down your face. it probably stung, too, based on your grimace.

luke wiped away the blood with his sleeve, used nectar to disinfect the wound, and dressed it with a fresh bandage, working silently as you did.

“it’s still your birthday,” luke finally said once he was done. “you get some rest; i’ll take first watch.”

you gave him a small, strained smile before checking on the others. 

later that night, you stayed up with luke anyways. 

seemingly out of nowhere, you handed him your portable cassette player. luke stared at it for a moment, unwilling to comprehend just what you were offering and, more importantly, why. 

you and luke had grown accustomed to sharing things: flannels, socks, makeshift beds and scavenged food. but this —

it was your aunt’s. 

you never met your mother, who’d left you as a baby, and of course, poseidon was too busy tending to his underwater kingdom to step in as a parent. your aunt raised you as her own. and then you lost her, too. 

you kept her cassette player buried deep in your bag with some mixtapes she had made and ones you’d stolen throughout the years. when it wasn’t your turn to keep watch, luke would sometimes catch you with headphones on, looking up at the stars. 

luke liked to think he knew you well; all those subtle elements that made you — the crack of your knuckles, the cadence of your voice, the slope of your nose, the dreams of your childhood. engraved in his own personhood. bones and all. 

and, still: he didn’t know you, not entirely. 

you’d only allowed luke to listen with you once, maybe twice. he’d never forget what it was like: knees pressed together and heads just as close to keep the wires from stretching too far; you gushing about the magic of jimi hendrix, recounting memories that echoed through gentle guitar riffs; luke yearning for one more song to play, for another a wistful smile of yours to appear. luke, wishing to linger in your private oasis a beat longer before you pushed him out again and closed the door behind him. 

the one lock luke couldn’t crack: your grief, and how you carried on so buoyantly despite its weight.

well, there you were, presenting the key to luke as an offering. a sacrifice for something luke would never ask of you. 

“this….” luke swallowed the lump in his throat, refusing to look at you. he turned the device over in his bandaged hands, the metal smooth, though well-worn. “you can’t just —”

leave. you can’t just leave. you can’t just —

“hey.” 

your hand over his, forcing him to stop spiralling and look at you. 

right away, luke regretted it. a small sliver of him, however delusional, had hoped that you were joking. 

you weren’t. behind you, there was an empty space where you had previously wedged your sleeping bag. your backpack was already strapped around your shoulders, fully packed. 

“i need to leave, luke. we can’t stay together. it’s too dangerous.”

“you don’t need to —”

“there’s more of us, now,” you interrupted, pulling your hand away to rest on your thigh. “four demigods together isn’t ideal. we’ve been attracting more monsters. more deadly monsters.”

“that would happen, anyways. it always has whether it’s the four of us, the two of us, or….” 

luke stopped his sentence short, not even wanting to give you the idea to go out on your own, even though you’d probably been thinking about leaving for some time. 

you made reckless decisions sometimes, but this didn’t seem to be one of them.

“well, it’s happening more.” your voice was steady, too steady. luke imagined you rehearsing just what to say to counter the inevitable backlash. 

luke shook his head. “i’d be dead if it weren’t for you.”

“you almost died because of me,” you clipped. you lifted a hand to touch the bruise on luke’s jaw, but let it drop just as quickly. “you know that children of the big three cause more trouble. maybe we managed it when it was the two of us, but now, there’s more to consider. a child of poseidon and a child of zeus, travelling together. it’s like we’re asking to be killed. it’s too dangerous.”

“that’s our life,” luke snapped. “you can’t just run from it.” from us.

you faltered, looking back to where annabeth and thalia were sleeping peacefully. 

oh. he must have said that last part out loud, too. 

“you know i’m right,” is all you said.

luke could only shake his head again. because, fine, you weren’t entirely wrong. it was more dangerous — but it was danger luke hoped you’d all face, together. 

“i’ve made up my mind,” you added, an anchor in the sand.

“don’t leave.” luke’s words came out as a prayer. if he offered something, maybe you’d stay.

you paused to take a shaky breath. “this isn’t goodbye, luke. i swear to poseidon…fuck, i swear to all the gods that this isn’t goodbye.”

luke couldn’t speak. there were tears bubbling in his throat, threatening to spill. 

“so, keep this for me,” you whispered, once again placing your hand on top of luke’s. his fingers gripped your cassette player tightly, like it was the only piece of driftwood leftover from a shipwreck, keeping him from sinking into the cold, dark nothing. “you’ll give it back when we see each other again.”

a promise. 

“fine,” luke conceded, though he wanted to scream at you. he wanted to argue like little kids — petty, loud, meaningless, back and forth until tears streamed down cheeks and throats were raw. 

but, you were leaving, one way or another. luke didn’t want this shared memory to be tainted if it might be your last.

“you have to take this, then. give it back when we see each other again.”

luke removed the chain from around his neck, the one that held the key to his childhood home. he placed it around yours, instead.

he didn’t need the key now, but his mother had given it to him when he was six. before he knew what it meant to be the son of hermes, god of thieves. 

call him sentimental, but luke had kept it. just in case he ever got lost. 

“if you’re ever back in connecticut, you have a home.”

“yeah, okay.” you smiled softly. 

it fell just as quickly. 

“take care of them,” you told him. “of yourself, too. i’ll see you again when it’s safe.”

luke didn’t ask when it would be safe, because the truth is that it might never be.

“because you want your cassette player back?” luke joked, instead trying to lighten the mood, to capture one last moment of brightness.

you laughed softly to not wake the others. 

“yeah. that too.”

you pressed your forehead to his, something you hadn’t done since you were kids. 

“i’ll see you again,” you repeated.

without another word, you got up and jogged away. luke shut his eyes, refusing to see you become nothing but a shadow. 

(you looked back several times, but he couldn’t see through the darkness.)

now

call the gods out on their bullshit (you encourage it), but if they have one thing going for them, it’s that the olympians know how to throw a party. 

the night grows darker, yet somehow becomes more lively. demeter and persephone had supplied a generous amount of fresh, decadent fruit, and dionysus an even more generous amount of wine. apollo starts a karaoke corner and you’re just tipsy enough to agree to sing a duet with him in order to break the ice. apparently, he’s a big midnight sirens fan and had seen your band when you headlined at glastonbury festival. you smile to yourself, imagining your bandmates’ faces if you told them that the god of music had watched you perform.

as you hand the microphone to a giggling dryad, the sound of your name washes over like gentle waves on a shore.

“if it isn’t my sweet, summer child!” your father brings you in for a hug and an ocean breeze engulfs you — salt and sand and sun. 

“hi dad,” you exhale as you pull away. 

you hadn’t seen each other in a while, but poseidon looks the same. he’s dressed in a turquoise hawaiian shirt and birkenstocks with a crown of seashells on his head. there’s a cocktail umbrella in his glass, a slice of pineapple wedged onto the rim. you’re about to ask him how he managed to secure a pina colada and where you might find one, too.

“that was quite the performance!” poseidon takes an eager sip of his drink, green eyes sparkling like sea glass in the sun. “i must tell you: your newest album is all the rage in atlantis. the nereids and merpeople can’t seem to get enough of it and, truthfully, i find myself playing it on repeat as well. you’re quite talented.” 

you try not to let your shock slip through, instead smiling and asking how things are in his underwater kingdom, but you’re….touched at your father’s unexpected praise.

the gods aren’t perfect, and your father is no exception. they’re divine beings who have time to conceive children, but not to raise them. there’s a long history of them abandoning, mistreating, and manipulating their own offspring. of course, being the prophecy child, it became practically impossible for your father to ignore you; you’re sure that being dubbed the saviour of olympus gives him bragging rights with his immortal family. even with their sworn promise to change, it’s impossible not to resent the gods in some ways. 

still, you feel comforted by your father's presence at times — when you catch the perfect wave on your surfboard, for example, or when you sit on your fire escape during a storm after a bad day. it’s been like that pretty much all your life: poseidon there in spirit, not in practice. despite everything, he’s watched over you, and percy, throughout the years.

and here poseidon is now, grinning at you like you’re his pride and joy. 

“enough about aquatic politics.” he pats your shoulder enthusiastically after telling you about the struggles of keeping humans from overfishing. “i came over to wish you a happy birthday. and to give you this.” 

poseidon reaches into the pocket of his shirt and hands you something you’d long thought gone: a leather cord with several clay beads and a silver key.

“i found it off the california coast,” he explains. “i kept meaning to get it to you, but i suppose time has a way of getting away from us, immortal or not.”

a warmth grows in your chest as you run your thumb over your old camp necklace, bright and full. it had fallen off one day when you’d gone surfing, and you assumed it was lost to the ocean. you'd been given a fresh leather cord when you arrived at camp earlier this summer, but it felt empty. hollow.

“thanks, dad.” 

you smile at him as you put on the necklace; it feels like coming home. your father then asks you about your summer so far.

you tell him all about your life as of late, until you catch a glimpse of luke with van on a marble bench at the other end of the pavilion. van is sitting in luke’s lap, and they lean over to whisper something in his ear before kissing his cheek. 

you freeze mid-way through your sentence.

sensing the shift in mood, poseidon frowns. he turns his head to follow your gaze.

“ah.” poseidon turns back to you and clears his throat. “now, i don’t mean to pry, but i saw you earlier with the castellan boy.”

you flush at the fact that your moment with luke was witnessed by your own father. “dad —”

“did you know in ancient greece, throwing someone an apple and having them catch it is considered a marriage proposal?”

“i’m pretty sure that was disproven,” you scoff.

poseidon raises an eyebrow at you, clearly amused. “which one of us was actually there, hm?” and though you roll your eyes, you can’t argue with that. “i just wanted to know if there was a wedding happening in the near future.”

you almost choke on the last remnants of your wine. “dad.”

“i’m kidding. i’m kidding! mr. castellan seems otherwise occupied.” 

“yeah, it does seem that way,” you grumble.

poseidon puts a hand on your shoulder, firm but reassuring. “regardless: if you find someone who would go to tartarus and back with you, someone who would fight alongside you every step of the way, you hold on to them. there’s only so much time you mortals have on this earth.”

you sigh — easier said than done — but your father is trying, so you manage a nod.

“i’ll keep that in mind.”

“now, i better go — ” poseidon looks over your shoulder, where the air behind you starts to feel staticky. “it seems a disagreement is brewing between zeus and hades. they always get into it whenever dionysus makes the wine a bit too strong. brother, put away the lightning bolt —” and he rushes away to prevent another divine conflict from arising.

left to your own devices, you venture over to the food table, finding an array of fresh and dried fruit, breads, cured meat, fresh oysters and, of course, more wine. you grab a goblet and a few dried figs.

“careful, i heard dionysus made the wine extra strong tonight,” someone warns, creeping up beside you. the voice is soft and alluring, and you feel something tug at your heart. 

you do a double take when you turn to them; the person is devilishly handsome, a golden aura paired with a golden smile. 

(you will soon find out that the god flirting with you is the son of ares and aphrodite, the latter of which takes the appearance of whoever the onlooker loves. as it turns out, her son appears in the same way. 

all this to say: it doesn’t mean anything that this god looks like luke castellan to you. 

it doesn’t mean anything at all.)

“i’m eros.”

“hey. i’m —”

“i know who you are, savior of olympus.” eros winks at you. “i just never realized you were so beautiful.”

your cheeks heat up as you take a sip of your drink.

oh, shit. 

okay. the literal god of desire and pleasure is flirting with you. 

you’re flattered, really, and maybe the wine has gotten to your head, but you’re not eager to turn him away.

“well, i’ve definitely heard about you, and the rumors do not do you justice,” you quip, painting on a flirtatious smile.

eros puffs out his chest, clearly pleased. 

over the next few minutes, you decide that eros can hold a decent conversation, asking you the classic first date questions about your likes and dislikes, and he’s cute enough that you wouldn’t mind things going further. 

(he might be a god, but he’s no luke. you push that thought away, and force yourself to flirt with helios. eros. right, eros.)

eros leans in close, pretends to listen to you, lets his gaze drop every so often to the deep v-neck of your shirt.  

“no way! 13 going on 30 is a classic,” you argue. you nudge your shoulder into eros’s playfully, and let the contact between you linger. eros, the inspiration for cupid himself, has angel wings, and you feel them brush softly against your burning skin. 

“it’s totally overrated!” eros exclaims. “also, the childhood friends to lovers trope gives people false hope.”

“it’s not false hope. it’s about the buildup to their happily ever after,” you reason, swallowing some wine to dislodge the lump in your throat.

eros shakes his head. “trust me, baby, it’s all about the instant attraction. that’s where the excitement is.” 

he’s so close now, you can smell the sharp alcohol on his breath. not wine, but something stronger.

“oh? what do you mean by that?” you lean impossibly closer, trailing a finger down his chest.

eros smirks, placing a hand on your thigh. “want me to demonstrate?” 

not even a second after you whisper a yes, eros crashes his lips onto yours, and you will yourself to kiss back. he slides his tongue in your mouth, runs his hands over your body. 

you’re making out with the god of desire and passion, so, objectively, it’s a good first kiss: soft around the edges and firm where it needs to be.

sure — you feel nothing, no real spark, but it’s almost enough to fill the hole in your heart in the shape of a certain son of hermes. 

the son of hermes who has moved on and is in a loving relationship with a perfect emotionally available partner. 

so, it’s fine. 

this, this thing with eros, is fine. 

you’re fine.

eros pulls away first, but keeps a hand on your cheek.

“let's get out of here.” 

he grabs your wrist before you have a chance to answer. you stand up, let him weave you through the crowd towards the stairs of the pavilion. apparently, his room is just through the garden. 

as he tugs you along, he looks back at you, smiling. under the glow of the stars, eros looks just like luke, except it’s becoming harder to ignore that he isn’t luke and that makes you feel all sorts of nauseous. your camp necklace weighs on your chest and, in particular, the silver key that you’d kept for all those years burns through your skin. 

lightheaded, you pull away from eros’ grip just as you reach the top of the stairs and place a hand on the column next to you to steady yourself.

eros turns around sharply. “what is it?”

“i changed my mind, actually. let’s just…keep talking here.”

eros grabs your wrist again, his grip tighter than before. “don’t be a tease.” his tone is ever-so-gentle, but there’s an edge behind his words. 

this time, your voice comes out more assertive. “i just changed my mind. that doesn’t make me a tease.”

“come on, baby, don’t you wanna experience what real passion is? this is a once in a lifetime opportunity that a million girls would kill for. you’d be an idiot to pass it up.” he brags, and you’re this close to breaking this guy’s nose, god or not. 

“i don’t care,” you snap, struggling to break free from his grip. “and i’m not your baby.”

“okay, whatever,” eros rolls his eyes, but quickly plasters on an arrogant grin. “we’ll go somewhere private and i’ll call you whatever you want.”

he manages to drag you down two steps as you strain against his iron grip, now almost cutting off your circulation. your heartbeat quickens and you feel dizzy. finally, you grab onto the railing for leverage and use your strength to rip out of his grip, forcing eros to stop in his tracks.

“what is it now?” he snaps, whipping his head around once more. 

he looks nothing like luke, now.

“just stop, eros.”

“listen,” he starts, speaking to you almost mockingly, like you’re a naive little kid. so much for being the savior of olympus. “trust me, i know what people want, so you don’t have to be shy. i promise to be the best you’ve ever had —”

“eros, is it?” the rest of the party is in full motion, but here’s percy, giving eros one of the most intense death stares you’ve ever seen. percy, your little brother who talks to lonely fish at the aquarium; who, if you cut open, would bleed blue m&m’s; who would never let anyone, god or otherwise, hurt someone he loves. “i’m gonna have to ask you to let go of my sister.”

“mind your own business, kid,” eros hisses. “we’re kinda in the middle of something.” he tries to move you down another step, but you stand your ground.

annabeth, no longer the scared little seven year old you, luke, and thalia found behind a dumpster, is also glaring at liam from the top of the stairs. one of her hands rests firmly on her belt, where she keeps her dagger. 

“i’d back off, if i were you,” she warns. “wouldn’t want to cause a scene.”

“just mind your own business,” eros snarls.

“they said leave her alone,” thalia asserts, walking over once she sees what’s happening. “and you don’t wanna mess with us, trust me.” she clenches her hand into a fist.

“who the fuck are you? her bodyguards?” 

“just let her go,” percy orders. “my sister can do a lot better than a minor god with a major god complex.” 

eros growls, baring his teeth at percy. “you impertinent little shit.”

as soon as eros lunges for your brother, you tug one of his wings towards you, hard. he whips around and you take the opportunity to punch him in the face. he doubles over, golden ichor gushing from his nose.

“i’d be careful if i were you, baby,” you seethe. “you wouldn’t want to go up against the demigods who led an army against kronos and won. unless, of course, humiliation is a kink of yours.” you laugh humorlessly at the way eros scowls at your words. “to each their own,” you continue. “but i’m not in the mood to fuck an entitled creep with angel wings to compensate for his tiny dick. you better fucking respect that, and leave us alone while you’re at it.”

eros’ flirtatious smile is long gone, replaced with the kind of anger only entitled, self-important jerks have when they don’t get what they want and they’ve taken a few blows to their ego. 

call it stupidity or arrogance, but his only response is a punch delivered right back to your face. 

you hear a crack upon impact, and pain radiates from your nose. you stumble, but percy manages to reach out and catch you before you fall down the stairs. he holds you as thalia and annabeth create a barrier between you and eros. you hear them shouting at eros over the music, but their exact words don’t register.

you lick your lips, tasting blood. your ears are ringing, and everything is suddenly all fuzzy. percy tries his best, but you slump your body weight into his and he almost topples over.

“i’ve got her.” luke’s calm and measured voice cuts through the chaos. you feel a strong, familiar arm wrap around your waist to steady you. “from what i remember, you were too much of a coward to even step foot on the battlefield, so i’d listen to her if you know what’s good for you.” in a haze, you guess that luke is directing his sharp words towards eros, before turning to the others and instructing: “you guys take care of this — find clarisse if you need back up.”

somehow, you find yourself over in a small secluded temple, sitting on a window bench overlooking the clouds as luke sits next to you.

like most of olympus, the building is made of marble with gold accents; this one has roses engraved on the walls, and the space smells like flowery perfume. it’s much quieter than the pavilion, though you can hear laughter and music in the distance. it’s cooler, too, but not by much; even without all the body heat, you're left with sticky summer air, and luke’s breath on yours, sweet with wine and ripe fruit, as he carefully examines your injury.

you feel your head spinning all over again. maybe it’s the alcohol, or the adrenaline, or the fact that the two of you haven’t been this close in a while — probably a dangerous mix of all three. 

you know (from trying not to but ultimately not being able to pull your attention away from him after all) that he’s had a few drinks as well; it seems like the two of you ignore each other best when you’re sober.

“thought the curse of achilles would protect you from nosebleeds.”

“guess it doesn’t protect against —” what did percy call eros? “ — minor gods who have major god complexes,” you recite.

luke looks slightly amused. “that’s a shame,” he hums. “would have been nice to get one birthday without being injured.”

a smile creeps onto your face, despite the dull ache from your nose.

“you remembered.”

“of course i remember,” luke almost scoffs like the mere suggestion of forgetting what day you were born is an insult to his very character. he meets your gaze, and you could melt when he offers you that lopsided smile of his, painfully familiar. “happy birthday, aquagirl,” and it’s the softest he’s spoken to you in a while. just like old times.

he remembers. 

somewhere within him, luke holds on to fragments of you.

he wipes the blood off your face, the sleeve of his silk white button-down now stained crimson. “how’s your hand?” he asks. 

you flex your fingers. “it’s been better,” you answer, your knuckles slightly aching. “totally worth it.”

“i guess all those years away didn’t change anything. still willing to put a god in their place, huh?”

all those years away. 

the reminder feels like a stab to the heart, and you’re worried that it might burst the comfortable bubble you and luke had drunkenly stumbled into. 

thankfully, luke continues:

“the kids really take after you.”

he says as a joke, mostly, but there’s a sincerity in those deep brown eyes of his, too. something you also hadn’t seen from him in a while. 

the kids, who you’d in some ways raised together when monsters were trying to kill you and the gods didn’t care enough to stop it. 

the family you and luke had built together despite being born into the world of greek tragedies. 

“as if annabeth wasn’t threatening to pull the dagger you gave her, skywalker,” the nickname rolling off your tongue with ease. “besides, they’re not kids anymore.”

“yeah.” he pauses. “neither are we.” 

luke’s fingers trace your camp necklace, brush against your collarbone. the breath hitches in your throat.

here you are again, at the edge of something real and very scary, and you fear luke is going to push the two of you over. 

but he doesn’t. instead, luke suggests, jokingly: “maybe we should start a fight club at camp.” 

you take that as a good sign: like you, he’s hoping to preserve the playfulness between you before everything else seeps in and ruins it. before you’re brought back to the present, where you’re practically ignoring each other.

where you’re fine, but really. 

you snort. “chiron and mr. d would love that.”

“like they’d ever find out!” luke explains. “you know the first rule of fight club —”

“don’t talk about fight club,” you finish together. 

luke laughs, even though it’s not that funny. you laugh, too. 

and that’s the thing that really, truly gets you. 

try as you might to ignore it, some days it’s hard to forget the pain and heartache and grief. 

you still feel like your life is a battlefield; you still see the ghosts of everyone you couldn’t save even though people call you a savior; you still have those scars, inside and out, that seemed healed but ache every once and a while. 

but that isn’t all. 

sometimes it hurts more thinking back to the good times and knowing, deep down, you can never go back.

summer — age 13

“ugh — you think with all their power, the gods could help stop global warming,” you groaned, swatting away a mosquito that tried to land on you. “do you think they have air conditioning on olympus?”

“oh, for sure,” luke quipped. he gave you a lopsided smile, his curls sticking to his forehead, drenched in sweat. 

it was the summer solstice, the longest and the hottest day of the year so far. the two of you had found a perfectly good hideout, but luke insisted that this place would be worth the move. 

he’d been leading you down side streets for what felt like forever. the sun had already set, and you were very close to passing out from the heat, until luke finally stopped at a door behind an alley, with a sign reading CLOSED FOR RENOVATIONS. 

luke knelt down to do whatever son-of-hermes lock magic he had to do to get the door open. he flipped a switch, and you winced at the sudden overwhelming brightness. 

the destination was different than the hideouts you usually sprung for: those small, hole-in-the-wall type places. instead, this space was big and bright, filled with arcade games and fun posters and neon colours. the type of place a kid might have a party or where a group of normal teenagers might spend their friday night. 

“what…what is this?”

“you thought i forgot, didn’t you?” luke smirked at you. he sat down on the colourful carpet, taking out some snacks, a small plastic bag with coins, a wrapped box, and a plastic blue crown, and gestured for you to join.

you did, in fact, think that luke had forgotten your birthday. 

birthdays were bittersweet for children of gods, who were constantly reminded that any year could be their last, their youth cut short by monsters or prophecies or a fatal flaw. all the two of you usually did on either birthday was split any sweet treat you could get your hands on. 

it wasn’t a big deal, really, to skip that tradition of yours. there were much more urgent things to worry about, like finding food and water and shelter, and not being devoured by monsters. 

you did think it was strange that luke hadn’t so much as said happy birthday to you all day, but you knew that he loved you.

(like a friend loves a friend. nothing else, no matter how much your stomach fluttered at the thought of him.) 

“i wanted to surprise you,” luke explained once you claimed your spot next to him. he reached over to place the crown on your head. “i found this place a few days ago during a food run. it reminds me of where we had your —”

“eighth birthday party, yeah.” you smiled at the memory of running around and feeding quarters to every machine and trying every game, of your classmates singing happy birthday to you off-key before you all stuffed your faces with sickly sweet confetti cake. 

truthfully, you never thought about having another celebration like that again.

but, it was five years from that faded childhood memory, and luke was presenting you with something you didn’t even realize you had needed: the chance to be a kid again.

“so,” luke got up, a wide smile on his face. he held the plastic bag in one hand, extending the other to you. “which do you wanna play first?”

you started with space invaders, then moved on to dragon’s lair and pac-man. you took a break before street fighter ii so that luke could ceremoniously light a candle and present a cupcake that had been tossed around in his bag (but you were still very, very grateful for), along with fresh batteries for your portable cassette player. he had made you a mixtape too, though you couldn’t figure out how. 

your last stop was a photobooth. you vowed to keep those pictures — a collection of you and luke together, smiling bright and colourful, goofing off and laughing — for the rest of your life.

now

those moments from past summers are like popsicles melting in the sun: tangible for a limited time before leaving you with a sickly sweet mess of what once was. 

you think about what happened earlier, how percy, annabeth, and thalia stepped in to protect you, still the brave kids you had once known so well. how luke is here with you now, taking care of you so tenderly even after you’ve silently agreed to give each other the cold shoulder. 

maybe luke is right. maybe all those years away didn’t change anything. 

except — once you leave this temple and the alcohol leaves your system, it won’t be the same. 

none of you are kids anymore, if you ever even were. 

“why’d you go for eros, anyway?” luke asks, breaking you away from your thoughts. he removes his sleeve from your nose since the bleeding seems to have finally stopped.

“you really wanna know?”

“yeah. most gods are assholes. and you’re…” luke places a hand close to your leg, pinky finger brushing your thigh. “you.”

“i went for eros because….well, honestly, i don’t think i cared who it was, as long as they made me forget you,” you admit, because what did you have to lose. you probably have a broken nose, you definitely have blood on your shirt, and your time with luke is running out. 

luke’s eyes darken. his fingers start to play with the hem of your shorts. 

“did it work?” his voice is a whisper, but he’s close enough that he’s crystal clear.

“no.”

it’s hard to determine who leans in first, but soon enough your lips are on luke’s — messy and urgent. noses bumping together, teeth clacking against each other. he cradles your face in his hands, and you move to straddle his waist. you taste wine on his tongue, and maybe a hint of sweet pears, but it’s overwhelmed by the salty, metallic taste of blood stained on your lips. when you run out of air, you pull away. it’s clearer now: you’re not dizzy from the alcohol or adrenaline, but dizzy from him. luke’s gaze is heavy on yours as he traces your top lip with his thumb.

“luke,” you whimper, itching to kiss him again. 

“you’re still bleeding.”

luke wipes away the blood with his thumb. before either of you can do or say anything more, there’s an echo of footsteps on the marble floor. a flower nymph, there to leave an offering and let you know that, while aphrodite encourages acts of love, she prefers it doesn’t happen in her place of worship. 

you realize that aphrodite also might not look so fondly at you kissing someone else in her place of worship after publicly rebuking her own son.

luke untangles himself from you, and you know that he’s been jolted back to reality, too. 

and, just like that, another moment has melted away.

your father was right. time has a way of slipping away for us, immortal or not.

summer — age 18

“hey, you awake?”  

“yeah,” you replied softly. sleep hadn’t been easy, in the days and weeks and months leading up to that final battle with kronos and his army. 

and once it was all over? 

you rested your head on luke’s shoulder, sword discarded at your feet and armour half-removed, as argus, the hundred-eyed security guard of olympus, drove a school bus with a dozen or so demigods back to camp.

“why’d you turn down their offer?” luke whispered.

oh.

"why...why do you ask?"

"i don't know." luke paused. "just curious, i guess."

you closed your eyes and replayed that moment on olympus when you refused the gift of immortality. the look of shock written on the gods’ faces. and on luke’s.

“i don’t care about living forever,” you told him bluntly.

forever seemed too long, especially for someone who was prophesied to die at 18.

you tilted your head up to meet luke’s gaze, and his messy curls brushed against your forehead. evidence of the battle was clear on his face: caked-on dirt and blossoming bruises and dried blood. 

behind him, outside the bus window, the world was flying by. a child who had fallen off their bike being comforted by a friend. two people sharing an mp3 player and a pair of earbuds. an elderly couple walking their dog.

“you once told me that this was our life,” you continued, gesturing towards the weapons and battle-worn kids, some quiet, others crying, many injured. “what if it didn’t have to be?” 

luke furrowed his brow. “do you mean….are you talking about leaving?”

you shrugged. running from monsters for your entire childhood then being the child of the great prophecy was a lot.

a break might be nice.

there was so much about the world, the one you’d fought and bled to protect, that you wanted to experience. 

maybe something closer to a normal life.

“would you ever leave camp?” you wondered, not really answering luke's question. 

“no,” luke replied instantly. his fingers started fiddling with the beads on his necklace. “i can’t just walk away, not after everything.”

“yeah, i get that.” and you did; you really, truly, did. the guilt of wanting to leave camp curled in your stomach like a venomous snake. you took a shaky breath. “let’s talk about this later, yeah? i’m tired, and we have the rest of — ”

the rest of the summer slipped away in the blink of an eye. gone, before you even had a real chance to say goodbye.

you closed your eyes and held on to luke, as if gripping his arm would anchor you to something you weren't ready to let go of, but in some ways needed to move on from.

it was no use, though. 

by the end of august, you’d be gone too. 

now 

you learned early on that the curse of achilles doesn’t protect you from hangovers.

you wake up the morning after the celebration on olympus with a deep, throbbing pain lodged in your temple and an uncomfortable swirling in your gut. parties and late nights at bars are common on tour, which means migraines are, too, so you have a routine to make sure you’re not out of commission for too long.

except this time, the aspirin and blue gatorade and dry toast don’t work. the sting in your brain and uneasiness in your stomach doesn’t go away, even after a few days. you haven’t been able to sleep, either.

desperate for a cure, you consult lou ellen, head counsellor of the hecate cabin, who you’d unexpectedly grown close to in the past few weeks. she mixes something for you, while asking if there’s something that’s been weighing on you.

you couldn't keep it in anymore; you tell her about the summer solstice and luke.  

later, with nothing but your thoughts and percy’s snoring occupying your time post-curfew, you grab your phone and flip it open, deciding to finally reach out to luke, when you get a text from him.

luke is already on the beach when you arrive, looking out onto the water. 

“hey,” you greet as you sit next to him on the sand, but not too close. “i was actually about to text you —”

“did you tell anyone that we kissed?” he interrupts. you can’t quite read his expression as he waits for you to answer.

“no, i didn’t,” you lie. “would it matter if i did?”

“well, i mean, word travels fast around camp, and i don’t want van finding out. it’s not like it meant anything.”

the throbbing in your brain becomes a sharper sting, the uneasiness in your stomach a tidal wave of nausea.

“it didn’t?” you hate how fragile your voice sounds, compared to luke’s stoic demeanor.

luke shrugs. “i mean, we were both drunk and the thing with eros happened…we just got caught up in the heat of the moment.” 

“you’re saying there’s nothing between us, then? nothing?” the word tastes bitter in your mouth.

luke turns away before he answers. “no. nothing.”

“then what about last summer?” you demand. you force yourself to keep it together, your tone firmer than before. “i guess that didn’t mean anything, either.”

“y/n…” he sighs. “i don’t know what you want me to say. we’re barely even friends anymore. you come back here, after all this time, after so much shit happened, and expect us all to drop everything to fit you back into our lives. but, you don't. whatever you came here for, it's not here for you. there's nothing to go back to. we moved on. i moved on, and i can’t deal with you —" 

“got it,” you snap, already turning to walk away. “loud and fucking clear, luke.” 

it’s not like it meant anything. we’re barely even friends anymore.

you replay luke’s words as you crawl into bed, holding back tears so as to not disturb percy. finally, you swallow a generous amount of whatever concoction lou ellen had brewed up for you.

drifting off into your own sleep, you decide that you don’t love luke anymore. not as a friend, not as a.....

nope. 

according to luke, there's not even anything to go back to.

nothing.

nothing.

[lamentationsofalonelypotato]

Potatoes Weren't On The Grocery List!

Pairing: Russell Shaw x f!reader, Reader POV

Prompt:"Please put the potato down."

Requested By: @zepskies

Summary:  When your boyfriend comes back into town acting different and won't tell you what's wrong, you jump to an extreme conclusion, and use an unusual form of punishment to get some answers. Saturday morning at the supermarket just got a little bit more interesting...

Tropes: Established Relationship, Suspected Cheating, Fluff

Word Count: 5K

Warnings: References to Sex, Sexual innuendo, Kissing, Cursing, Little bit of self-deprecating thought (reader), Jealousy, Supposed Cheating? Embarrassing Situation at a Supermarket? Inappropriate Use of Potatoes? Cheesy Potato Jokes? I think that's everything? This one is more fluffy than anything else.

Note: This is told from Reader's perspective. Any references to the reader is made using you or your. There is no use of y/n. I tried my best to proofread, but nobody's perfect. If you don’t like, don’t read, but if you do like, you’re my favorite!

Internal monologue is in italics and is in first person.

Main Masterlist

Prompt Celebration Masterlist

A/N: This is another prompt requested for my prompt celebration by my lovely friend @zepskies 💗 Thank you so much for sending this one in! Alright, I know this entire situation is just CRAZY, but it really did make me cackle to think up another way of using potatoes. 🥔

“Would the owner of a red Prius with a bumper sticker that says ‘Driver Picks The Music, Shotgun Shuts His Cakehole’ please come to the customer service desk?” A nasally voice crackles over the intercom, halting the sound of “Heaven Is A Place On Earth” that plays over the loudspeaker in the supermarket. “Again, would the owner of a red Prius with the-”

The rest of the message is drowned out in the high pitched squeak of a shopping cart against terrazzo two aisles away, the smell of cinnamon and fresh bread that floats from the bakery, and the chatter that buzzes up over the towering shelves of food.

Saturday was meal prep day, which meant that you spent your morning weaving your cart in and out of the crowded grocery store one block away from your apartment buying everything you needed for the week. 

But despite how long it took, grocery shopping never felt like a chore because you believed it gave you a snap-shot into someone else’s life. 

You spent all those Saturday mornings watching other people and creating stories for them in your head. Why they bought something, who they were shopping for, noticing who they were shopping with, wondering what they would cook-

It was intimate, feeling the world slow down for just a few moments to live in the present with them.

Noticing a man on the phone in the feminine hygiene section talking to an unseen entity, watching a little girl eat an apple while her mother reaches up for a box of cheerios, waiting in line behind a guy with only a box of condoms and spearmint gum in his basket,  hearing a girl hum a little too loud and dance to the song blasting from her headphones as she shopped, and walking behind a woman  in a power suit who studied a grocery list scrawled on a scrap of paper.

They were all going somewhere, all moving forward with their day and yet you all shared this single moment of serendipity, to be in the same place at the same time.

Unfortunately, today you were not enjoying it one bit and it had everything to do with the man standing at the end of your shopping cart studying an alarming amount of avocados with a blank expression.

Something was wrong. 

You knew that the second your boyfriend, Russell, had come home. He’d been on a case with Colter a few states away, pulled from your arms in the middle of the night when he got an S.O.S from his younger brother, and because the two of you had been dating long distance comfortably for the better part of three years, you could tell that there was something seriously bothering him. 

But you didn’t know what. 

It was the first time in your entire relationship that you couldn’t tell what Russell was thinking and all it did was frustrate you further. 

He was distant, moody, and on edge. You’d never seen him like this before, not even when you brought him home to meet your family for Christmas last year. Sure, he’d been a little jittery and you’d made a joke about him being more afraid to meet your dad than he was to face a convoy of armed guards, but Russell was not like this ever. 

Your boyfriend was calm, collected, and smooth (too much sometimes, but you weren’t complaining). What he was not was jumpy and nervous. It took a lot to rattle him given what he’d been through. That’s why you were worried, because the man standing at the end of your shopping cart was not your boyfriend. 

Maybe he got body snatched while he was out of town? 

The idea that aliens had come down and taken the man you loved hostage was one of the only possible reasons why he was acting so odd. 

Russell had barely said two words to you since he’d dragged himself into the apartment last night. He had gone straight into the bathroom for a shower, not bothering the usual running joke the two of you had when he would throw you over his shoulder and bring you with him for a well deserved bit of R and R.

And when he’d come out of the shower, a vision in a small bright pink towel tied around his waist, his bare chest glistening in the dim light of your bedroom, dark hair dripping wet and hanging forward to frame his chiseled jaw, while the mist from the warm water floated behind him and framed the beautiful man that you couldn't believe was yours, it made you feel so warm it rivaled Mt. Vesuvius before it blew.

You’d wanted to demonstrate how much you’d missed him, and you’d tried whispering sweet nothings into his ear while your fingers tickled along the edge of the towel, but Russell had kissed you on your forehead, pried away the curious fingers, and said that he was “tired.”

It made your blood run cold. 

Reunion sex was the best tradition the two of you had, something you both appreciated and that fact that he’d said “no,” raised a red flag in the back of your mind the size of Texas. Russell never said no to sex, especially not after a long period of separation. 

He’d gotten stabbed a year ago while on a mission, spent two nights in the hospital following a surgery (where he complained the whole time about how he didn’t need to be there), and when you brought him home and he started to get a little friendly, you told him that you didn’t think that sex was a good idea, that he needed to rest, but he’d said that it was “just a graze” and then made love to you for an hour.

Sure, you’d done most of the work, he was in recovery for goodness sake, and you didn’t want to rip his stitches… but this was different.

Russell was avoiding your gaze, acting fidgety, and when you’d tried to kiss him, Russell had opted to shift his face away to give you a quick kiss on the forehead instead.

And as much as you liked a good forehead kiss, you hadn’t seen Russell in over a week and all you wanted was a heated kiss that made you lose feeling in your legs and forget that he was gone at all.

You didn’t know what you did wrong and you tried to think of something that you could have done to make him angry or annoyed with you, but there wasn’t a single thing. The last time that you’d spoken to Russell was late four days ago and he’d told you how excited he was to see you and that he missed you. 

But then why is he acting like this?

Russell pulls his phone out of his pocket and taps something quickly on the screen that’s angled away from you, his movements swift and to the point. But you note a small smile pulling at the end of his mouth. It was the first time you’d seen him smile since he got home. 

You felt unsettled, anxiety thrumming and prickling along your skin like pop rocks.

You wanted Russell to talk to you. It wasn’t like him to keep things inside, if something was bothering him he was upfront about it, not passive aggressive. He didn’t slam every cabinet in your apartment or leave all the drawers in the bathroom open when the two of you were in a fight, Russell would tell you what pissed him off.

Usually it was you that drove him crazy, but he’d always said he liked it, kept him “on his toes,” and made him feel like a lion tamer in a circus. 

An audible sigh comes through your lips, but Russell doesn’t look at you, instead he continues to tap something on his phone. 

It reminded you of what you’d discovered him doing early this morning.

You’d woken up at four am, call it fate or just one of those random moments your body woke up before your mind did, but when you realized that you were alone, it made you uneasy. 

In the three years you’d been together, Russell couldn’t keep his hands to himself, especially when he was asleep. That meant each time you woke up, Russell was laying on top of you, his strong arms wrapped around you in a bear hug, while he nuzzled his head into your hair and murmured things in his sleep you couldn’t understand. 

It was your safe place, somewhere that felt unbreakable.

Entwined in Russell’s arms in the early morning with his warm body tensed around yours was better than a fluffy blanket on a cold day, better than a hot cup of cocoa that drove away a nightmare, and better than slipping into the gentle embrace of a familiar book. 

It was always you that had to convince Russell to let you out of bed while he begged for another five minutes, not the other way around.

However, this morning you’d woken up to an empty bed with sheets long cold and found Russell sitting on the threadbare couch in the living room of your apartment talking on his phone in a hushed whisper.

The only words that you’d been able to make out were: “No, I haven’t talked to her yet honey.” 

Your entire body had gone cold with one sentence. You had no idea who he was talking to or what Russell had to “talk” to you about, but all you could focus on was that he called whoever it was, “honey.” 

It made an uncomfortable lump settle in the back of your throat. You didn’t want to believe that your boyfriend was cheating on you, but there was a little part of you that had begun to unravel, a thread in the back of your mind unwinding as you put together all the clues that Russell had given you since he came back. 

The suspicious phone call, the fact that he didn’t want to make love, Russell acting distant and jumpy-

It didn’t bode well.

The thought of losing him made you want to throw up.

Russell was the place of refuge you went to when your world fell apart, and without him you didn’t know how to function. Before him your life was organized into neat little boxes and checklists, but Russell had shown you that you couldn’t control everything in your life, he brought a reassuring and welcome disorder that made you feel alive in the best way. He helped you embrace the chaos to make a life worth living.

The thought of going back to the mundane world you knew before Russell where all the men seemed to be carbon-cut frat boy copies of one another, or wanted a cookie cutter life with a woman who never spoke her mind, or never called back, never offered to pay for dinner, and never opened doors for you filled you with dread. 

So you decided to go grocery shopping to clear your head and to get away from Russell for a little bit. It was the first time that you’d wanted to be away from him in all the years you’d known him and it broke your heart. Unfortunately, Russell had insisted on coming with you.

It was the only normal thing he'd done since he got back. Russell liked to do things with you no matter how mundane they would have sounded to someone else. Going to pick up the dry cleaning? Sign him up! Going to get some new thread for your sewing machine? Check! When Russell was back in town, he was back and nothing stopped him from being with you.

You would have found comfort in him coming with you if he wasn't acting lost.

The drive in his car to the supermarket had been silent and awkward, every conversation you tried to start when Russell came to a stop at a light lost in the wind. And even now Russell followed behind you like a zombie there, but not quite present.

It was an even bigger red flag, because the old Russell who came with you to the grocery store  was incapable of walking down an aisle without finding one thing that he wanted. Whether it be an oversized bag of sour gummy worms or a new brand of sriracha flavored potato chips, your boyfriend was insufferable when you brought him, and you loved every second of it.

But not today. 

He hadn’t said a word since you left the apartment, he even walked past the peaches without making an obligatory butt joke, and you still couldn’t think about the joke he’d made about the eggplant the last time he came with you without blushing.

Today all Russell did was stand there, his hands in his pockets, staring at the avocados, and his muscles tense beneath his army jacket as if he was anticipating something you couldn’t see. 

Like a break up. 

The thought made you clench your jaw together so tight you worried about the possibility of TMJ. 

The urge to say something, anything was building in your chest, but you didn’t know how to start a conversation without crying or cussing him out using the colorful vocabulary you’d adopted after you met him. 

The longer you stood, the more the thought of Russell cheating on you with someone else began to stitch its way into your head. Warped images of Russell in a dingy motel room along the road with a faceless woman in bed, rolling around with her for hours, the two of them laughing at your expense flashed through your mind on a sickening reel. The sentence you heard him say into the phone bouncing around in your head like a rubber ball.

His phone buzzes in his hand again, and your boyfriend’s smile widens before he types something out. 

Before the two of you had started dating, Russell had been talking to Reenie regularly. Reenie with her perfect black hair, clear skin, tight pencil skirts, pristine power suits, and beautiful smile. Reenie who's badass lawyer skills made what you do for a living seem dull in comparison. Reenie who was so much of a grown up you felt like a little girl watching her mother get dressed for work.

The faceless woman in bed with your boyfriend at a motel adopts Reenie’s physique and a roar of jealousy vibrates in your head so loud it might as well be a swarm of angry bees.  

Frustration, hurt, heartbreak, and anger formed a hard ball in the base of your throat and before you can stop yourself, you pick up the nearest object, a potato,  and throw it as hard as you can at your boyfriend. 

It hits him between his shoulder blades, glancing off his muscular back, before landing on the concrete floor with an audible thud. 

You’d been aiming a little higher, but it does the trick, and it makes you feel a little bit better.

“What the hell?!” Russell turns to stare at you, showing more emotion than he has in the past 12 hours since he got back home. “Did you just throw a potato at me?”

“Yes!”

“Why?”

“Because I-” You hesitate. 

You didn’t want to come out and say it, it was too terrible for you to think about. The man you loved, your best friend, cheating on you, especially after how long the two of you have been together. Instead of answering you pick up another potato.

“Whoa!” Russell holds up his hands in surrender, cracking a signature half-grin that causes another fissure to open in your heart. It was the first time that he’d genuinely smiled at you since he got back. “Didn’t think potatoes were on the list today Sweetheart.” 

“They are now!” You throw it at him, but Russell ducks. The potato sails through the air past him and lands in a colorful tub of summer squash, jarring a produce clerk restocking a display of apples nearby.

You reload. 

“Baby wait!” Russell half ducks behind the cart, preparing for battle. Confusion and a little bit of humor flash in his eyes. “Can you please tell me what’s wrong before you beam me with Mr. Potato-head?”

“You know!” The rough skin of the potato grates against your skin as your grip tightens. 

“No, I don’t.” His gaze flicks to the projectile in your hand. “I mean, I like french fries as much as the next guy, but that’s still a little raw.”

You could feel your frustration and heartbreak swirling and beating into a wildfire in your chest, burning in the air around you as the image of Russell and Reenie writhing in bed together comes skittering back into your mind. Granted, there was a part of you that knew playing dodgeball with potatoes in the grocery store was ridiculous, but you were so upset about what you thought your boyfriend was doing that it was difficult to form the words to express it. 

And throwing potatoes at him seemed like the only option.

"Please put the potato down." Russell says, still half crouched behind the grocery cart. 

“No!” You take aim at his head, cocking up your arm for the next throw.

“Can you at least tell me what’s wrong?” Russell’s hands are still up in front of him, anticipating your throw, preparing to duck if need be, but his green eyes glint with a playful mirth. “Or are you going to show me what happens when good potatoes go bad?”

He looked like your Russell again, not some statue of the man you were in love with as he had the past few hours. It was infuriating that this was the thing that made him return to normal and not anything else that had happened in the 12 hours since he'd gotten home.

This time you find your words.

“Who is she!?” You screech so loud that everyone in the produce department stops to look over at Russell and you. 

They were probably already watching given the fact that you’d thrown two potatoes at him and were about to unleash a third at any moment. You really hoped that you didn’t end up on the internet or the news, especially because your mother watched it religiously and would call to say “I told you so” about Russell. Ever since you’d brought him home she’d call to ask if you’d broken up with him yet. He still hadn’t won her over and this wouldn’t get him any brownie points. 

“What?” Russell’s smile slips into a confused frown. 

“Who is she?!” 

By now the song “Heaven Is A Place On Earth” has begun to play again over the loudspeakers, the familiar tune echoing above the sounds of the supermarket.

“Who is who?” 

“The girl you’re cheating on me with!”

“What?” Hurt flashes in his eyes followed quickly by surprise. “You think I’m cheating on you? Really? After everything we’ve been through together baby?”

“Don’t you baby me Russell Shaw! You’ve been acting weird since you got back! Avoiding my gaze, acting twitchy, not talking to me, refusing to touch me! Saying that you’re too tired to make love!” That last part you hadn’t meant to shout as loud as you could in the middle of a grocery store on the busiest shopping day of the week. 

The elderly woman shopping for cucumbers on the opposite side of the produce display looks up to watch the two of you. Her eyes drag appreciatively over your boyfriend before picking up a large cucumber from the pile. 

“You think I’m cheating on you because I told you I was tired?” Russell huffs out a laugh. “Baby, I get tired, I’m not a machine-”

“And I heard your little conversation this morning on the phone.” You continue, not smiling, your fingernails curling into the rough skin of the potato in your hand.

You hated that he wasn’t taking any of this seriously. Russell was laid back yes, but even he knew better than to tease you when you were angry, and Russell himself understood when his care-free attitude left little to be desired when you were furious with him. 

“No, I haven’t talked to her yet honey!” You mimic his voice holding up the potato above your head, the axe over a head on a chopping block. 

Hot frustrated tears roll down your cheek, the urge to sob catching under your rib cage, but you swallow it down. 

A part of you wished that you were more calm and collected, not standing in the produce section of your local grocery store with a potato clutched in your hand like mjolnir, crying.

“Sweetheart-” He sighs and extends his hand towards you, intending to bring you some comfort. Some of his hair has fallen forward to frame his face in the commotion, and in a perfect world you would have brushed it back with a gentle smile and a kiss to the tip of his nose, but not this one. 

Heaven is most certainly not a place on earth. 

“No, don't touch me!” You flinch away from his outstretched hands, taking a shaky step backwards, tennis shoes squeaking against the floor. The image of him and Reenie was back, festering beneath your skin, followed by the sound of him whispering on the phone this morning. 

His concerned frown drops into hurt and if your heart wasn’t already broken, that would have done it, seeing Russell look at you that way. 

You’d never deprived him of your touch or the ability to touch you. Something that you’d learned early in your relationship was that deep down Russell longed for more than just one night, more than just a random fling with a woman late at night. He wanted something permanent, especially after he'd spent his entire life having the world slip between his fingers.

He’d had to learn how to be self-sufficient from an early age and deprived himself of what he really wanted for so long. But then he’d met you. 

You knew deep in your heart that Russell longed for your touch and you in more ways than one. Not just for his pleasure, but the gentle lean of your head against his arm when you watched tv or the brace of your hand against his shoulder when you needed to push past him in the small hallway of your apartment or the warm embrace you gave him in the night when he came back to you. For you to take it away from him hurt more than you could ever know. 

He’d had a handful of relationships, but none of them were as long as the one the two of you had and it made you feel proud to know that you were changing things for him, and that you were showing him what a healthy long lasting relationship looked like. 

That was until you started lobbing potatoes at him in the produce department on your favorite shopping day of the week.

“Please, listen to me.” He pleads. This time he doesn’t try to touch you, but hurt flashes through his eyes again. 

It was enough to almost make you cave. You didn’t want to believe that Russell would cheat on you, he never seemed the type for that. Sure he was flirty and spent a long time away from you, but you had trusted him because you’d believed that Russell honored your relationship the same way you did. 

“Why should I? It all makes sense. You’ve been acting distant since you got back, you won’t touch me, you won’t even kiss me-”

“Can you please listen to me for one second?” He interrupts before running his hand through his hair to give it something to do, avoiding the urge to reach out for you again.

“No, I don't want to hear any of your excuses!”

Russell says your name in a frustrated tone. “It was my sister on the phone this morning.”

“Do you always talk to your sister at 4 am? Or oh, maybe it was Jake from Statefarm!” You roll your eyes. “How stupid do you think I am?”

“I don’t think you’re stupid. I’ve never thought you were stupid. It was Dory!”

“Then what was so important at 4 am that you couldn’t wait to talk to her?”

“Oh for the love of- This!” Russell thrusts his hand into the pocket of his army jacket, before he shoves something into your empty hand.

Your gaze falls to the small blue velvet box cradled in your palm, looking at it for a minute too long, the angry tornado inside making it hard to process what it is.

“Russell? What is this?”

“I called Dory because I needed her to give me a pep talk. I was too much in my head last night. And when I asked Colter the other day he didn’t help at all.” He cracks a small smile, but it doesn’t reach his eyes. “I wasn’t too surprised by that, my brother has never been as smooth or as smart as me.”

“To do what?” You ask hesitantly. 

Russell hesitates, measuring what he's going to say. The foreign nervous glint is back in your boyfriend's gaze, the one you'd seen since he came back. The same one that made you think your boyfriend had been abducted by aliens.

“Propose.” Russell rubs the back of his neck looking sheepish. “I was going to do this somewhere special, you know? Outside that taco truck we like or at least over dinner. Not a damn grocery store.”

You thought you were going to die of shock right there.

“You were going to propose?” Your voice comes out a little hesitant and squeaky. The potato in your other hand drops to the floor, the sound of it hitting the concrete thunderous. 

“Yeah. That’s why I had to tack on a few extra days to my trip. I wanted to talk to your dad in person, this didn’t seem like the kinda thing to ask over the phone.” 

“What?” Your mouth drops open in surprise. “You asked my dad?”

Russell nods. “I was surprised he said yes. I don’t think I’m exactly a favorite when it comes to you parents.”  He huffs out an awkward laugh, his green eyes twinkling with amusement. “I didn’t mean to be so distant, but I wanted it to be perfect. And each time I tried to think of a way to do it or try to figure out what to say I couldn’t. That’s a first for me Sweetheart, we both know that I don’t have any problems talking.” 

Oh my damn, I literally accused him of cheating. I’m a terrible person. 

“I was tired last night.” Russell continues. “But I did want to make love, fuck baby, I always want to make love to you, but I was worried that I would propose to you at the wrong time.” 

“The wrong time?” You swipe the back of your hand over your cheeks with a sniffle. 

“We both know that I’m not good at controlling what I say when you’ve got your hands all over me. Especially not when you’re in my lap riding me to high heaven.” Russell’s smirk makes your cheeks flush. 

There’s an awkward silence that fills the air between the two of you as your gaze drops to the box in your hand. 

I don’t deserve him.

“Are you sure that you still want to marry me? Even after I thought you were cheating?” The question comes out in a whisper, guilt tugging at your heart.

You hated that you’d treated him that way, assumed that he would be the kind of guy to cheat on you. Deep down in your heart you knew that Russell wasn’t the type, but it made you feel even more guilty for accusing him of that. 

Russell steps forward reaching out to you, but hesitates, his smile faltering. “Can I touch you now?”

“Yes.”

The relieved sigh that he releases when he pulls you into his tight embrace makes more tears spill from your red eyes. You hated that you’d said that to him, that you’d deprived him of the one thing he needed since the moment the two of you met. He tucks you into the little you-shaped nook between his shoulder and his throat, arms wrapping around you warm and familiar. It feels more like home than anywhere else. 

“Baby, nothing’s going to stop me from that. You could be a zombie with rotting lips infested with maggots and I’d still be the luckiest guy on the planet because I got to marry you.” His words rumble up his chest against your cheek.

“And you thought you didn’t have anything romantic to say.” You say with a giggle, squeezing him tight. 

“Zombies? That’s what does it for you?” Your boyfriend's chuckle shakes your body as his hand smoothes over your back, the motion calming your racing heart.

You sniffle out a laugh, nuzzling further into his chest. By now you were sure there were tears and snot on his t-shirt, but Russell doesn’t care, not when he has you in his arms again. 

“So is this a yes or are you just feeling really sorry for throwing potatoes at me?” He murmurs into the top of your head. 

“Say yes sweetie, or I will.” The elderly woman who was shopping for cucumbers stage whispers from your left. 

You didn’t know that she was still standing there, but all it did was bring a wave of embarrassment over you thinking of everything that you’d yelled at your boyfriend and done with the potatoes at your local grocery store. 

Damn it, I’m going to have to start shopping somewhere else.  

You pull back from Russell’s chest to stare up into the warm gaze of the man who’d always been there for you. “Yes.” You nod. 

The kiss he gives you is the one that you wanted when he came home. The rough scrape of beard against soft skin, the tangle of his tongue in your mouth, the warmth that bubbles up from the deep to swallow you whole as you lose yourself in the man you love, and the soft gasp that comes when Russell drags you further into him with a growl that rumbles through his muscular chest. 

“Now can we please go back to the apartment?” He rasps, warm hands holding on to your cheeks as if you’re going to slip away, his green eyes darkening with his words before they rake across your body. “I’d like to celebrate our engagement the old fashioned way. Unless you want to keep playing hot-potato?”

“No. We can go home.”

“Baby-” Russell rumbles once more, leaning his forehead against yours. “We’re already there.”

A/N: See happy endings all around! Thank you again @zepskies for asking me for this prompt and letting me explore another story with Russell! Daydreaming and writing about him never gets old 👀

Thank you so much for reading! Likes, Reblogs, and Comments are not required, but are always appreciated! I love hearing what y'all think! 😊 If you'd liked to be added to my general Jensen Ackles Character taglist or my Russell Shaw taglist please let me know!

Taglist:

@roseblue373 @livya99 @mrsjenniferwinchester @zepskies @louisanalady

@yvonneeeee @kr804573 @waynes-multiverse

[catboyieejeno]

because even then, i knew — l.sm { 2 }

✰ genre: non idol! seokmin x reader, stanger to lovers / kdrama au

✰ cw: female reader, petnames, cursing, seokmin is desperately down bad, slowburn, pining, so much fluff, mentions of alcohol, consuming alcohol, nsfw, oral (f recieving) protected sex, mentions of cheating, angst

✰ wc: 23k

✰ tracklist: {spotify} {apple music}

✰ navigation: {one} {two}

✰ note: play wonder - kyungsoo

≡;- ꒰ ° two꒱

After that night, everything felt different to Seokmin. He couldn't quite put his finger on it, but there was a quiet shift in the air, a change that felt as though the world was holding its breath, waiting for him to realize something new. The kiss had unlocked something—a door between him and you, and now, everything was moving in a direction he hadn’t quite expected.

It wasn't overwhelming. Not in the way he'd feared. There was no rush, no need to hurry through the moment. Instead, he lingered in the afterglow, letting the warmth of your smile, your soft laughter, that had soon become his favorite sound, and the quiet moments you shared settle over him like a comfortable blanket. Every time he saw you, it felt a little easier, a little more natural, like this was where he was meant to be all along. But still, he couldn't help but feel nervous. Nervous in the worst and best way, the kind of nervous that made his heart flutter whenever his eyes met yours.

And he noticed, with a growing sense of quiet affection, how you started to pass by the flower shop more often. At first, it was just a passing thing, like the usual routine of grabbing him for coffee, but soon it became something more. The way your gaze lingered on the window, the way your eyes would light up when you saw him behind the counter, arranging flowers, or tidying up the shelves. It felt like a secret, even if it was simple, a little dance of shared glances and quiet moments. Sometimes you’d stop by, just for a few minutes, chatting about the most random things—weather, books, life—and he would savor those brief moments, like they meant the world to him.

It wasn’t just those little interactions, though. There were messages now—casual at first, but with every day that passed, they became more frequent, more personal. Seokmin found himself looking forward to your texts, to hearing about your day, to seeing the little things you’d share with him when he wasn’t around you. And when he’d send back something goofy or heartfelt, he couldn’t help but smile at how easily the conversation flowed. It felt… effortless. Liking you was effortless. 

After that night, he and you started going out more and more often. The beach, the museum, the karaoke, they had led to more—a walk in the park, spontaneous visits to the bookstore, long talks that seemed to go on forever. It felt like the lines between friendship and something more were beginning to blur, but Seokmin didn’t mind. He wanted it, in a way he couldn’t entirely explain. Being near you felt right, felt easy in a way he hadn’t realized was possible. There was laughter now, just as there was before, but it was different. There was more intimacy in it, a warmth that wasn’t just about shared jokes or teasing. There were touches too. Small things—your hands brushing as you walked together, the moments when your fingers would linger a little longer than necessary. 

And then, when the picnic he owed you was mentioned, it felt like the perfect thing to do to complement the windy weather. As he packed the charcuterie board, overloading it with more food than either of you could possibly eat, he found himself looking forward to it as he usually does whenever he would get to spend time with you.

He finds himself constantly thinking of you—wondering what you were doing, what you were thinking, how you were feeling. And it wasn’t just a fleeting thought. It lingered. It was more than just a crush or infatuation. It felt real. And though that made him apprehensive, there was something in him that wanted to take the chance, for what felt like the first time in forever. 

He needed to see this through with you. You deserved that much, and more. 

Maybe it was too soon to know for sure. Maybe it was too early to put a name to it. But Seokmin couldn’t ignore the way you made him feel. And as much as his past made him hesitant to dive in too quickly, he knew that somehow, with you, he was willing to at the very least, try. 

The park is bathed in warm afternoon light, filtering through the trees and casting dappled shadows on the grass. Seokmin arrives with an armful of supplies, a wide, proud grin plastered on his face as he reveals his self-made “charcuterie board,” which, to your surprise, takes up nearly half the picnic blanket.

He’s packed everything. From neatly arranged meats and cheeses to stacks of crackers, olives, fresh berries, and even a few jars of spreads. He beams at your astonished laugh, like he’s managed to pull off the ultimate surprise. “I may have gotten a little carried away,” he says, rubbing the back of his neck, feigning modesty, even as he’s clearly pleased with himself. He promised he would out-do your sandwiches, after all. 

“A little?” you tease, biting back a smile as you watch him lay everything out with meticulous care. He hands you a cracker topped with some kind of creamy cheese and strawberry jam, watching for your reaction with a delighted anticipation. You take a bite, savoring it, and he grins wider, clearly satisfied.

“I also didn’t know what kind of cheese you would like.” 

“Right,” You giggle, “and the logical solution was to bring seven different cheeses?” 

He nods, leaning forward to leave a kiss on your lips before fitting another cracker into his mouth. “Course. You deserve nothing less,” he jokes. 

Once you’ve both had your fill of snacking, he pulls his guitar out of its case and pats the spot directly next to him on the blanket, urging you to get closer. “Alright, time for the next part of our date.” he says, guiding your fingers to the strings with a gentle, steady touch. His fingers rest over yours as he shows you a simple chord, his face close enough that you can feel his breath on your cheek.

“Press here,” he murmurs, guiding your fingers along the frets. “And then you strum, like this.” His hand covers yours as he shows you, his touch warm and steady, his eyes flicking to yours with a soft, slightly mischievous smile.

Your first attempt is clumsy, the sound far from perfect, but he only chuckles, his thumb tracing slow circles over the back of your hand. “You’re doing great,” he assures you, squeezing your hand gently before he releases it. “Way better than I was when I first started.”

You try again, more focused this time, but his thumb starts tracing little patterns against your palm, thoroughly distracting you. Then, as if that wasn’t enough, his lips ghost over your neck until you feel them land a kiss there. The feeling makes you roll your head back against his chest and you glance up to see him watching you with a soft look in his eyes, a hint of adoration that makes your heart want to burst.

After a few minutes, the lesson dissolves entirely as he leans in, pressing another light, playful kiss to your cheek, then your forehead, before brushing his lips against yours in a way that feels perfectly effortless and natural. He laughs softly, murmuring, “You’re way better at this than you think,” before he kisses you again, longer this time, his hands resting on your waist, pulling you a little closer.

There’s a teasing edge to your voice he can clearly hear despite the fact that you’re nearly whispering. “You mean kissing? Or playing guitar?” 

“Both,” He hums against your lips and you whine. 

He reluctantly pulls away, placing his hands over yours again. “Alright, this is a C chord,” 

Seokmin watches as you fumble with the guitar, fingers finding their place on the strings with uncertainty. His heart swells a little—he’s never thought teaching someone guitar could feel so right. But with you, it’s different. You’re here, looking up at him with wide, focused eyes, and he can’t help but lean in closer to guide you.

“Here, like this,” he says softly, his voice warm as he brushes his fingers over yours to adjust your hand on the neck of the guitar. His breath is near your ear, and you can feel the closeness, but you focus on the instrument, trying to get the chord right.

You glance up at him, an eyebrow raised, half-challenging. “Like this?”

Seokmin’s smile widens as he nods. “Exactly. That’s it.”

He lets his hand linger for a second longer than necessary, but quickly pulls back as he instructs, “Good. Now, try strumming.”

You strum the strings, but the sound doesn’t come out as clean as you’d hoped. It’s messy. You sigh, sitting back against him slightly, fingers still pressing the strings, trying to fix it.

“This is harder than it looks,” you mutter under your breath.

Seokmin laughs softly, his tone light and teasing as he leans in again. His shoulder nudges yours gently. “It’s okay, it’ll come. And if it doesn’t, that’s okay, too. Honestly, I think you look pretty cute trying.”

You raise an eyebrow and shift just slightly. “You’re just saying that to make me feel better.”

He grins, shrugging casually. “Maybe a little. But it’s true.” His voice drops, a little softer this time.

The words linger in the air for a second, but you just laugh, trying to distract yourself with the guitar. You focus again, pressing down the strings, trying to make the chord ring true. When it does, you look up at him, eyes wide.

“Did I do it?”

Seokmin’s heart gives a little skip. The way your smile spreads, bright and genuine, makes him feel something warm settle in his chest. “Yes. Exactly like that,” he says, a little breathless. He can’t help but admire the way you’re so proud of yourself. 

You’re both quiet for a moment, his gaze lingering on you. There’s something about this moment, about the way you’re looking at him that feels different. He’s not just teaching you guitar. He’s simply… enjoying being with you. And before you can respond, his hand moves, his fingers brushing gently against the side of your face. It’s a subtle touch, barely there, but it sends a little thrill through you.

Without thinking, you lean into his touch, your breath catching as his hand slides to the back of your neck, pulling you in just enough for him to kiss you softly. It’s quick, but it’s sweet, and his lips linger against yours for a heartbeat longer than expected.

He pulls back just a little, and his smile softens, his eyes sparkling with something warmer, more familiar now. “That’s for getting the chord right,” he murmurs, teasing but with a softness that melts your heart.

You smile, your fingers still resting on the guitar. “Well, I’ll need a lot more kisses to learn the rest of the song, then.”

Seokmin laughs, his gaze dropping to your lips for a second before he grins, shifting closer. “Guess you’ll just have to keep playing then, huh?”

You roll your eyes playfully. “You’re a tough teacher.”

His smile widens, and he shifts again, this time nudging you gently. “I’m just giving you a reason to keep trying,” he says, his voice low and a little more serious now. “Besides, I like being close to you.”

You meet his gaze, feeling the weight of his words more than you expected. “I like being close to you, too,” you reply quietly, your voice softer now, but with a truth that hangs between you.

Before you can think, you lean in, kissing him again, this time a little longer. Seokmin responds just as eagerly, his hand moving to your waist, pulling you closer. His heart is racing now, but in a way that feels good—exciting, even. It’s not just the kiss. It’s everything that is you.

You sit there, tangled together on the blanket, the sound of his guitar a soft backdrop as the day drifts lazily by. With every touch and every stolen kiss, he pulls you further into the moment, into this lighthearted bubble where it’s just the two of you, completely caught up in each other. And as you sit together in the golden glow of the afternoon, Seokmin’s hands gentle on your fingers, guiding you through the notes, until night begins to fall, and he offers to walk you home. 

˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ 

Seokmin isn’t sure how long the two of you have been walking, but he doesn’t mind. Every second feels easy, peaceful. As the sun dips lower and the leaves fall from the autumn gusts of wind, casting a honeyed glow over the street, he notices how the light falls on your face, softening every edge and detail. He’s struck by how happy he feels in this moment—wandering aimlessly, your hand in his, with no real destination in mind. 

It’s when you stop abruptly, tugging at his arm, that he notices the small, worn sign hanging just above an old staircase. Hidden Treasures. The name, faded and a little tilted, somehow feels right in this quiet, tucked-away corner of the city.

“Wanna go in?” you ask, and your eyes sparkle with curiosity.

He smiles, nodding without hesitation. “Lead the way.”

Inside, the shop is a world unto itself, a warm, cluttered maze of forgotten, handed down things. The air carries a mix of dust and vinyl, with a faint undertone of leather. Seokmin’s eyes drift over racks of vintage clothes, crates of records, and stacks of books and trinkets piled onto shelves. You’re already making a beeline for a shelf at the back, and he follows, quietly amused by how naturally you seem to navigate the cramped space. It’s funny—he’s never given much thought to old records or thrift stores before. But here, watching you take it all in, it seems like he’s seeing it through a different lens.

When you stop in front of a display case filled with cassette tapes, Seokmin can’t help but linger nearby, half-hidden behind a rack of jackets. He watches as you pick up a tape, studying it intently. A soft, faraway look settles on your face, and for a second, Seokmin can imagine how it might feel to be a part of that daydream. He inches closer, his curiosity getting the better of him. 

“Something good?” he asks casually, leaning over to look.

You glance up, and for a split second, he sees a shy, almost bashful smile. “I found one of my favorite albums.” You look down at the cassette like it’s a piece of history you’re holding in your hands.

His mind whirs as he notes the titles of the tapes you keep picking up, trying to commit them to memory without you noticing. When you’re distracted by another row of tapes, he snags a few of the ones you seemed especially drawn to and quietly slides them behind his back, out of your sight. A plan begins forming in his head, but he plays it cool, waiting for you to move on to a different section before he slips them to the cashier with a little nod.

As you wander through racks of clothes, he tries on hats for your amusement, pulling funny faces that make you laugh. He feels the warmth in his chest whenever he catches you glancing at him, your expression somewhere between amusement and…something softer.

He plucks a bowler hat from the stand, spins it dramatically in his hand, and places it atop his head. “What do you think?” he asks, striking a pose with a raised eyebrow.

You bite back a laugh, eyeing him with mock seriousness. “Very dashing, but maybe a little too serious for you.”

“Fair point.” He grins and swaps it out for a wide-brimmed sun hat, pulling it low over his eyes with a grin. “Better? I’ll wear it to our next park or beach date. And if you’re nice, I might let you borrow it sometime.”

You dissolve into laughter, nodding in approval, but he doesn’t stop there. He reaches for a pair of heart-shaped sunglasses on a nearby display and perches them on his nose, winking at you over the top of the frames.

“Now?” he asks, a glint of playful confidence in his eyes.

You shake your head, your laughter filling the space around you. He leans in closer, heart-shaped lenses reflecting your amused expression, and kisses you once, quick and teasing.

You gasp out in surprise and he’s overcome with adoration for you and your reaction, unable to resist leaning in again. He starts peppering kisses on and near your lips, humming contently against your skin. 

When he catches your sweet gaze, there’s a small moment of stillness, a quiet shift in the air as he leans in again, slowly this time, brushing a tender kiss against your lips. The feel of your laughter against his mouth is enough to make his heart race, and he’s momentarily lost in how light and easy everything feels with you by his side.

You pull him back into the playful atmosphere, nudging him toward a rack of vintage shirts and jackets. “Try this one,” you insist, holding up a bomber jacket. He slips it on, giving a playful spin as you nod in approval.

“Alright, your turn,” he says, grabbing a leather jacket from the rack and holding it out to you. When you put it on, his eyes widen just a bit. “Wait… It actually kind of suits you.” 

“Really?” 

“Absolutely,” he laughs, watching as you adjust the jacket.

“Yours doesn’t look so bad either,” You step closer, pulling him in by the collar and planting a quick kiss on his lips before either of you has a chance to pull away. 

The warmth of the kiss lingers as you both turn back to exploring the store, the silliness giving way to a gentler, more intimate mood. He trails behind you as you flip through stacks of old vinyl records, catching snippets of memories and favorite bands from you as you move down the aisle. 

Eventually, you both make your way back out into the evening air, Seokmin carrying a paper bag that you assume is holding his own finds. You barely make it down the street before he stops you, looking as though he can barely contain his excitement.

“Close your eyes,” he says, his tone playful but just a little shy.

“What?” you laugh, eyebrows lifting.

“Just do it,” he insists, that familiar lopsided grin tugging at his lips.

With a bemused smile, you shut your eyes, and after a few seconds, you feel something light press into your hands. Opening your eyes, you see the cassette tapes—the very ones you’d been admiring inside. Your gaze flickers up to him, and he’s watching you with a slightly nervous, almost childlike grin.

“You didn’t—”

“I wanted to,” he shrugs, trying to act nonchalant but failing. “You said they were some of your favorites. Would’ve been rude not to let them come along.”

You can’t stop smiling, looking between the tapes and him, a small laugh bubbling out. “I can’t believe you did that.”

He shrugs again, scratching the back of his neck, his eyes sparkling with a mix of excitement and a touch of nerves. “Well, it seemed important to you,” he says softly, the confession hanging between you both.

Your shared laughter fades into a quiet moment, and he’s suddenly aware of just how close you are. Before he can second-guess himself, you lean in and press a soft kiss to his cheek—a thank-you without words. The warmth of your lips lingers long after you’ve pulled away, and he can’t hide the grin spreading across his face.

He finds himself leaning in, your laughter caught in a hushed space between you, and for a second, he wonders how it’s possible for something to feel both thrilling and completely natural at the same time. You kiss once, twice, and he’s laughing quietly against your mouth, one hand curling around your waist.

“Thank you,” you emphasize when you part, and his eyes crinkling with a smile.

“Anytime,” he says, nudging your shoulder playfully, and his heart flips at the easiness between you both.

As you slip your hand back into his, he squeezes it gently, hoping you’ll never let go.

˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ 

Seokmin looks at you, eyebrows raised in mild skepticism as you pitch the idea of glamping on a Saturday morning at the shop.

“So... it’s like camping, but not?” he asks, crossing his arms. His expression is somewhere between curious and slightly worried, as though he’s imagining himself fending off mosquitoes in the middle of nowhere.

You laugh, shaking your head. “No, no—there are no bugs. And no sleeping bags on the ground, I promise. It’s more like a cozy, modern cabin with all the comforts of home. Think cute tents, soft beds, and fairy lights everywhere.”

His shoulders visibly relax, though there’s still a hint of doubt in his eyes. “And... we won’t have to make a fire from scratch or eat out of cans, right?”

“Not unless you want to,” you say, grinning. “There’ll be proper meals, maybe even a fancy coffee machine for our coffee time. It’s just like a mini vacation under the stars.”

He pauses, tilting his head as he considers it. “So... it’s basically a staycation, but outdoors.”

“Exactly!” you say excitedly, “And just imagine the view at night! You’ll love it, I promise.”

After a moment’s thought, he lets out a small sigh, the corners of his mouth lifting into a smile. “Alright, fine. Let’s do it. But if I see a single bug…”

The flower shop is particularly alive today, and Seokmin is convinced it has something to do with your presence. Greenery fills the shelves around you while a sunbeam slips through the window, highlighting Seokmin’s amused expression. He leans closer, grinning at your bug-handling confidence, the warmth in his gaze unmistakable. You nudge him playfully, feeling the cozy, sweet familiarity between you.

“Don’t worry,” you tease, nudging his shoulder again. “I’ll handle any bugs. All you have to do is enjoy the stars.”

He laughs, a soft, warm sound that’s almost musical. “Fine, but you owe me an extra cup of coffee if there’s anything even resembling a mosquito.” He nods, already envisioning the drive together. “Only if we can have a little barbecue. I haven’t shown you my grilling skills yet.”

“If your grilling skills are anything like your charcuterie-board-making skills, I’m in for a treat.”

He chuckles, cheeks flushing slightly as he reaches to adjust a pot on the counter, keeping his hands busy.

And so, it was decided. The following week, the two of you would go glamping. You spend the week planning out the trip, selecting a location, and picking out a menu from all the dishes Seokmin has offered to make you during your mornings at the coffee shop. Now that he had a car, neither of you had to take the bus. He’d pick you up after your time reading at the cafe and drop you off at yours with a lingering kiss and a promise to see you the next day. 

The weekend came rather quickly, but suddenly, despite all the planning both of you had done, Seokmin felt completely unprepared.

He takes a deep breath, double-checking the bags in his trunk for what must be the fifth time. Snacks? Check. Extra blankets? Check. His guitar—of course, just in case there’s a moment for a quiet tune under the stars. He runs through his list again in his head, but his mind keeps drifting to one thing: you both sharing the same bed tonight.

He laughs softly to himself, feeling that mix of nervousness and excitement tightening in his chest. It’s not like he hasn’t imagined being this close to you, but now that it’s real, it feels like his imagination would never come close, as it usually did with you. He hopes he packed everything to make the evening perfect, especially the surprise he thought you’d love—a matching PJ set he’d picked out just for you, in the same soft fabric as his.

He shakes off his nerves, throwing himself one last look in the rearview mirror. “Alright, Seokmin, it’s just glamping,” he mutters to himself, trying to keep his cool. But even as he says it, he can’t help the excitement building, hoping this night turns out to be as perfect as he hopes. 

Seokmin pulls up to your place, heart beating just a little faster than usual as he catches sight of you waiting downstairs. You wave and jog over, and the smile that stretches across his face is immediate. “Ready for our glamping adventure?” he asks, a playful edge to his voice as he leans over to unlock the passenger door.

“Definitely ready,” you say, settling into the seat and tossing him a grin that instantly has him feeling that familiar warmth. 

With you beside him and the car loaded with bags, he pulls onto the road, a playlist of carefully selected songs filling the space between you with a perfect, mellow vibe. The early moments of the drive are filled with laughter and conversation that flows as easily as the winding road ahead. He’s already feeling more at ease; everything feels right, from the low hum of the engine to the late-afternoon sunlight spilling through the windshield, casting a glow over you.

At the first red light, he lets his hand drift over to yours, giving it a small squeeze. You look over at him, slightly surprised but smiling. “Getting bold, aren’t you?”

He laughs, feigning nonchalance. “Just felt right.” He leans in, stealing a quick kiss—soft and gentle, but enough to make his pulse quicken just a little. You’re barely pulling apart when the light turns green.

The next song that plays is one he remembers you mentioning once because you had the cassette in your collection, and as it fills the car, he sings along softly, sneaking a glance your way to see if you’ll join in. You laugh, rolling your eyes, but then you join in on the chorus, and the two of you sing as the scenery outside rushes by.

When he sees a gas station up ahead, he slows down and nods toward it. “Need anything?” he asks, pulling in.

“Let’s stock up,” you say, and he parks. Inside, the two of you pick out snacks, teasing each other over your choices—he insists that his preference for sweet and salty snacks is superior, while you counter with your taste for fruit and more “refined” options. By the time you’re back in the car, there’s a pile of snacks balanced between you, and you’re begging him to try something new.

“Come on, just one bite,” you say, holding a piece of dried mango up to him.

He rolls his eyes but relents, taking a small bite, pretending to make a face of disgust. “Alright, alright, it’s... decent,” he says, stifling a laugh. “But these,” he says, lifting up a bag of his favorite chips, “are what make a real road trip snack.” 

You’re halfway through a conversation about your favorite drink choices when another red light gives him another excuse to lean in for a kiss—this one a little longer, filled with the sweetness of your laughter and the warmth of the sun filtering through the windshield. He can taste the mango on your lips, deciding it tastes much better this way than on its own. 

As you get closer to the glamping site, the landscape starts to change, giving way to more open fields and a deeper blue sky overhead. He glances over at you, noting the way you’re soaking in the view. There’s something so peaceful, so effortlessly beautiful about you right now, and he finds himself thinking that this might be one of his favorite memories with you already—and you haven’t even made it there yet. 

As you step out of the car, you’re immediately greeted by the scent of fresh, earthy air and the wide-open stretch of the campsite with just a hint of mountains in the distance. The skies are painted with hues of blue and the golden edges of late afternoon. You take it all in, breathing deeply, almost losing yourself in the view when you hear the trunk pop open and catch sight of Seokmin, arms already filled with bags and supplies.

He shoots you a playful, determined look. “Guess I went a little overboard, huh?”

“A little?” you laugh, eyeing the sheer number of bags and supplies he’s brought along.

But Seokmin just grins, shrugging as he starts unpacking with vigor, unloading what seems to be enough to host a small party rather than a quiet date night. He’s fully focused, setting up with precision—cooler, blankets, grilling tools, and that glorious charcuterie board he promised, which he reveals with a flourish. “Just the essentials,” he jokes, flashing a proud smile.

While he organizes, you wander a little ways down the slope, mesmerized by the way the sun lights up the fields and the soft rustling of the leaves. Just as you’re getting lost in the tranquility, you feel his arms gently slide around you from behind. He pulls you close, resting his chin on your shoulder as he takes in the view with you. It’s quiet, with only the sounds of nature around and the soft weight of his embrace.

He leaves a few kisses on your cheek that you lean into, smile breaking out into your face as he squeezes your waist tighter.

“Pretty, huh?” you ask, smiling as you tilt your head back slightly to meet his gaze.

“Yeah, it really is,” he murmurs, but he’s looking at you, not the scenery, and his voice has that familiar softness that makes your heart skip.

You stand there for a little while, content just to be in his arms, until your stomach gives a not-so-subtle reminder. You laugh, breaking the quiet moment, and admit shyly, “Sorry, I’m starving.”

“I’m on it, baby.” Seokmin releases you, rolling up his sleeves with a mock serious expression as he heads toward the grill. 

You settle down at the little table he’s set up, watching as he works with surprising ease, flipping open the grill and setting up a few slices of pork belly, grilling each piece with careful attention. He even hums a little tune as he works, glancing over at you every now and then to catch your eye, flashing you a smile that’s more than a little pleased.

You laugh, rolling your eyes but feeling the warmth of his thoughtfulness all the same. As you watch him tend to the food, the sun dipping lower in the sky, you feel a surge of gratitude for the moment, for his sweet, over-prepared heart.

When a piece looks just right, he grabs a little plate, places the pork belly on it, and uses his chopsticks to bring it up, blowing on it gently to cool it down. “C’mere,” he mumbles, a playful glint in his eyes.

You lean forward, opening your mouth as he feeds it to you, watching with a mix of nerves and pride as you chew. The flavors burst in your mouth, rich and perfectly grilled, and you let out an appreciative hum, nodding enthusiastically.

He beams, a slight blush creeping up his cheeks. “Yeah?” He moves closer, his gaze lingering on you, and before you can respond, he leans in, brushing his lips against yours in a quick, soft kiss.

It leaves you smiling, and you can’t help but laugh softly, giving him a playful nudge. “Trying to win over the food critic, huh?”

“Absolutely,” he murmurs, leaning in to reconnect your lips for longer, until both of you are a little breathless, smiles lingering as he pulls back to check on the grill. 

The two of you linger over the grill, savoring every bite of grilled pork belly and vegetables, laughing at how much food Seokmin managed to bring. Just when you think you’re too full, he pulls out the last surprise: a box of instant ramen he’d brought just in case. “I mean, what’s camping without some ramen, right?” he says, grinning as he sets up the small camping stove.

“Of course,” you laugh, eyes wide with amusement. “As if I’d let you eat it all yourself.”

The ramen simmers quickly, filling the air with its savory scent. When it’s finally ready, you take turns slurping from the pot, laughing between bites, blowing on the noodles to cool them down. “This is seriously perfect,” you say, giving him a playful nudge. “You really thought of everything, didn’t you?”

Seokmin blushes, looking sheepish but pleased as he scratches the back of his head. “I wanted to make it nice for us.”

“It is,” you assure, giving him a soft, affectionate smile. 

As you finish up the last of the ramen and start stacking up the dishes, you come up beside him, resting your head on his arm. “I’m gonna shower. I smell like pork belly.” He’s rummaging through something in a bag, but you can’t see what it is over his broad shoulders.

That’s when Seokmin clears his throat and turns around, looking down at his hands nervously, seemingly gathering his thoughts.

“Actually, um…” he starts, then holds up an item. You can’t tell what it is just yet, but the soft blush on his cheeks lets you know that he’s been planning this moment, even if he’s a little shy about it. “I, uh… thought you might like these.”

You look at him, then down at the pajamas, recognizing that they match his. “Wait, matching PJs?” you ask, eyes lighting up in surprise.

He nods, laughing awkwardly. “Yeah… I just thought it’d be fun. But if it’s, you know, too much or—”

“Not at all,” you cut in, grinning. “It’s adorable.”

His face brightens, and he lets out a relieved breath, clearly pleased that you like the gesture. “Good. That’s… good,” he mumbles, finally meeting your gaze with a shy smile. He gestures toward the showers, still looking flustered but undeniably happy.

You head off to shower with the pajamas tucked under your arm, feeling the warmth of his thoughtfulness wrap around you as you go. 

After both of you have showered and changed, the air between you shifts, becoming softer, closer, and undeniably more intimate. The small glamping cabin feels cozy with the lights dimmed, the sounds of the night drifting softly in through the open window. Sitting cross-legged across from each other, you’re in the matching pajamas he picked out—an idea that seemed cute and innocent just hours ago but now has become the bane of his existence. Your set is a top that matches his, but instead of long pants, yours comes with shorts. 

It’s not like he hadn’t seen you in shorts or a skirt before, but he hadn’t… felt your bare legs against him like he would tonight. Tonight, when he’d have to sleep next to you. God, he feels like a fucking virgin. 

Seokmin’s eyes keep drifting over to you, taking in the way your smooth skin glows under the dim light, how relaxed and comfortable you look. His gaze lingers on the delicate line of your collarbone, the soft rise of your shoulders, and the way a few stray strands of hair frame your face. He tries to focus on your conversation, on the way you keep checking that the chords you’re mindlessly playing on his guitar are correct, but every laugh, every casual touch, sends his heart racing a little faster.

“You keep staring,” you tease, your voice light and playful as you stop playing, but there’s a boldness behind it that sends a thrill down his spine.

He laughs, embarrassed but unable to deny it. “I can’t help it,” he admits softly, giving you a sheepish smile. “You’re… really beautiful.”

The words hang between you, soft but full of meaning. You reach over, gently placing a hand on his knee, your fingers lingering just a little longer than usual. “You’re not so bad yourself,” you say, voice just above a whisper.

The warmth of your touch feels electric, and he doesn’t resist the urge to lace your fingers with his. A small silence settles between you, but it feels anything but empty. 

You tilt your head, leaning a little closer, and he follows your lead, heart pounding as he lets himself close the distance just a bit. The edges of your pajamas brush against each other as you inch closer, and before he realizes it, he’s right there, his hand reaching to tuck a stray strand of hair behind your ear.

As he leans in to kiss you, the guitar makes a foul sound, strings having been disturbed between your bodies and you laugh. “Let me move this, yeah?” 

He nods wordlessly, watching as you pick it up and carefully lay it inside the open case on the ground. His eyes trail after you as you rejoin him on the bed, watching the way you sit closer this time, your weight on your knees so that you’re hovering above him only slightly. Your palms come down to rest on his shoulders, and your lips, which he’d unknowingly been staring at for the last few seconds, finally meet his in a tender kiss. It's slow, careful, full of thought and feeling and tamed nervousness all at once as your hands wrap around his neck. It doesn’t take long before his lips part and your tongue meets his, head tilting in order to better taste him, desperate to feel him closer in any way he’ll let you have him. 

He's kissed you before, he’s felt the closeness between you two before, but this—this feels like the part of the song where every instrument comes together in harmony. There’s an unexpected depth to the way his hands find the small of your back, in the way you whine and sigh out in utter need, in how you fit so easily against him. 

A part of him panics, scrambling to put a name to what he’s feeling. It’s something big, bigger than he’s been ready to admit even to himself. Every moment he’s spent with you flickers in his mind, and it feels like he’s been collecting pieces of a story that only now makes sense. He doesn’t just care for you. He doesn't just like you. The feeling pressing in his chest, warm and weighty, is something else entirely—persistent, relentless, constant.

As your lips leave his to kiss down his jaw and neck, he wonders, dazed, if you can feel it too. This gravitational pull, he’s wrapped up in it. With each wet mark you leave behind on his neck, he’s free-falling further, and he realizes it’s too late to stop. He's already far beyond the point of no return.

Seokmin doesn’t hesitate to respond to your body, the space between you becoming both smaller and warmer as he tugs you closer until you’re practically situated on his lap. You let out a small, surprised gasp as you settle onto his thighs, hands sliding back up until they’re raking through his hair. 

As Seokmin slowly lowers you onto the soft bedding, the world outside feels distant, muted, as though it's been replaced by the gentle rhythm of your breathing and the steady thrum of his heart. His hands tremble, just slightly, but it’s not from uncertainty. 

He hovers above you for a second, eyes tracing your features, like he's trying to commit every detail to memory. There's a stillness between you, but it’s not awkward—just quiet, full of anticipation and softness. He touches your cheek gently, his thumb skimming over your skin.

"I..." he starts, words escaping him for a moment. He wasn’t sure what he’d wanted to say, but now all that’s left is the weight of the feelings he’s been holding back. He doesn't force it out, though, unsure if he can say anything that would encapsulate how he feels.

Instead, he leans down again, slowly, giving you the space to meet him halfway. His lips find yours once more, soft and tender, the kiss full of the things he can’t yet bring himself to voice. With each press of his mouth to yours, his body hums with the need to be close, to be tangled up with you, to feel you so completely.

When he pulls back, he stays close, forehead resting against yours, sharing the same breath. His heart beats faster than usual, as you utter his name in a single breath. “Seokmin?” 

“Yes?” 

“I… I need this off. Please.” You whisper, tugging at his shirt. He realizes immediately what you’re implying—or better said, what him taking his shirt off implies; his heart rattles wildly as he nods quickly.

He wastes no time in giving you exactly what you want, only hesitating to offer you the chance to change your mind. When you don't, laying there with your hair fanned out across the pillow and your eyes dazed and your lips still wet and swollen from his kiss, he pulls it off in one motion. He carefully observes the way your eyes trail down and right back up to meet his, a warmth spreading across his cheeks. 

“Help me with mine?” You plead softly, and he has to physically force his eyes to not roll back at the sultriness and vulnerability laced in your tone. He can’t help the low groan that escapes him, however, as he slides his slender fingers under the hem of your shirt and begins to lift it off of you. 

And with this, he takes his sweet, sweet time, holding his breath as inch by inch, more of your smooth skin is exposed to him. Until the swell of your breasts appears under the fabric. You sit up a little to help him slip it over your head and when you lay back down, Seokmin swears he might die. 

You can tell he needs a bit of a push, made obvious in the way he’s become gone completely still above you, jaw slack and chest heaving, so you grab his hand that sits at your hip and slide it up, molding it over your chest. Only then does he take some initiative to slide his thumb over your nipple and dip his head down to kiss your lips with a suppressed moan. 

“Do you know how much you mean to me?” The words spill out before he can help them, though he feels no embarrassment, especially not when you smile lazily up at him, eyes flickering between his. 

You nod without missing a beat, letting your fingertips brush back a few strands of hair that have fallen in front of his eyes. 

“I feel the same way.” You reassure, and that’s all it takes for him to kiss you again. This kiss is different from the last in just about every way; it’s desperate, wet, full of passion and you reciprocate it with just as much fervor, whining out when his hips roll into yours once, then twice, then as many times as it takes for the two of you to begin panting in each other’s mouths from the friction. 

Seokmin kisses your neck and down your sternum, using his hands to push both of your breasts together so he can alternate between licking and sucking at both of them with ease. He eats up every little whimper you let him have, returning the sound to you with no restraint as he rubs himself against your core. 

You watch him carefully, the way his jaw tenses when he bites down on your skin, the way he glances up at you through his brows as he swirls his tongue on your abdomen.

He lives and breathes for each little hiccup you let out, the whimpered chants of his name and “more” and “yes” only encouraging him to absolutely ravish you.

“I’m gonna take this off, okay?” 

You nod, letting his fingers trail around the waistband of your shorts. He hooks his fingers on either side, watching your face as he slips them down your thighs to discover the prettiest little lacy panties. They’re a midnight blue to match the night sky, and somehow, even through the dark material he can spot a wet mark from your slick. 

A sound rumbles from his chest, “You’re so-” he starts, but he’s interrupted by your moan, one that he draws from you the moment he runs a single digit over your clothed core. 

“Seokmin,” you pant, hips rolling up to meet his finger as it rubs you over and over again. He’s focused, keen on catching every little shift of your breath so can conjure up a trend of what you enjoy most. When he leans in to kiss your cunt, you almost lose your mind. It has formed a heartbeat entirely separate from the one rattling in your chest, and your body, which responds so well and obediently to his every touch, has altered itself to flutter in time with each one of his kisses. 

The material of your panties is so thin it’s almost easy to pretend it’s not there. Seokmin could have easily moved it aside, but he felt the need to create a pace, for your sake and his. If he had already tasted your slit, he’s sure he would have come untouched in his pants and this was the only sleepwear he brought, so it had to last him until tomorrow, too. 

His concentration doesn’t falter for a second, hands moving to cradle your thighs, rubbing them and squeezing your flesh as if he couldn’t believe your bare skin was truly in his hold. You’re becoming restless, he can tell, because you’re writhing, hands trembling as they reach for his hair.

“Take them off,” you beg. “I need to feel you.” You can’t take it anymore, the way he’s making out with your folds without any direct contact. You need to feel the drag of his tongue, the softness of his lips, without any material in the way. 

When he hums against you, the vibration feels wondrous. Being the great listener he is, he fulfills your request instantly. Your panties are dragged down your legs and tossed aside. Less than a second later, he leans his weight on his elbows, marveling at the sight before him. 

With his pupils blown wide, he mumbles something in between a plea and a praise, but it’s indiscernible because he’s already started to kiss you, whatever he’s said getting lost against your skin. His lips attach to the innermost part of your thigh, teeth nibbling boldly as you squirm. He doesn’t mean to be such a tease, but when all you want is to feel his mouth on you and he’s busied himself with marking the skin nearest to where you need him, you can’t help but whine in protest. 

“I can’t take it anymore.” You whisper, and he looks up to meet your eyes. 

It’s in a soft, lust-dripped voice that he requests, “let me take my time with you,” but you quickly shake your head.

“Please,” you try to beg, and the silkiness of your voice makes his dick swell inside his pants. He leans up, face close to yours and observing the way your cheeks redden from the humiliation of begging so shamelessly. He cracks a small grin and brings a hand up to hold your jaw affectionately, but firmly, as he kisses you.

Seokmin's lips break away from yours, his breath hot against your skin as he gazes deeply into your eyes. "Are you sure?" he murmurs, his voice a low, gravelly whisper that sends shivers down your spine. His fingers trail down your side, and you nod, unable to speak past the lump in your throat.

"Seokmin," you moan, your voice ragged and desperate. "Please..."

He looks up at you, his expression one of such raw desire that it takes your breath away. "I need you so much," he admits, his voice thick with emotion. "But I want to make sure that you're okay... that this is what you want."

You nod again, more urgently this time, your body thrumming with need. "Yes, yes," you insist, your nails digging into his shoulders. "I want you."

With a growl of satisfaction, he shifts his weight. You feel his fingers press against you, tentative at first, but then firmer as he begins to explore your wetness. You gasp at the touch, your hips bucking involuntarily.

"You're so beautiful," he murmurs, his voice reverent as he continues to stroke you. "So perfect... I can't believe I get to be inside you."

His words send a thrill through you, making your heart race even faster. You watch as he removes his fingers, bringing them to his mouth to taste you. His eyes lock onto yours as he licks his fingers clean.

With a gentle yet firm grip, Seokmin lifts your legs, hands holding them to your chest. He leans in closer, his dark hair brushing against your inner thighs as he moves. Your skin tingles where it grazes you, and you bite your lower lip to stifle a moan. Seokmin's eyes never leave yours, his gaze intense and full of purpose. He lowers his head, his warm breath fanning over your sensitive core, sending shivers up your spine.

His tongue licks a stipe up your folds, tasting you for the first time. The sensation is electric, shock waves of pleasure radiating from the point of contact. You gasp, your back arching slightly as you try to ground yourself. Seokmin's hands on your thigh tightens momentarily, holding you steady as he continues his exploration.

With a groan at the feeling of you clenching against him, his tongue delves deeper, each stroke calculated, designed to elicit the most profound responses from your body. You can feel the heat pooling between your legs, your arousal growing with each passing second. 

"God, Seokmin," you whisper, your voice barely audible over the sound of your racing heartbeat. His name sounds so unbelievably sweet on your lips, a mantra of trust and desire. 

His mouth works feverishly now, his tongue flicking against your clit, occasionally pausing when he decides to wrap his lips around you or lay his tongue flat for friction. His teeth graze your clit lightly, a teasing nibble that sends sparks through your entire body. You cry out, your hips lifting involuntarily to roll against his face. He responds by increasing the intensity, his tongue now working in unison with his fingers, plunging into you as his mouth focuses on your bud. 

You can feel your orgasm building, and Seokmin senses it too, his actions becoming more urgent, more frantic. It’s obvious that he wants nothing more than to give you your release. The way he grinds himself down into the bedding shows that he’s just as affected as you are, and it only turns you on more. Every pant and moan he lets out against you is dizzying and overwhelming. As he leans back for a second to study your swollen, glistening cunt, you let out a whine. 

His hand slides up to cup your breast, squeezing gently as his mouth devours you again, murmuring a quiet “Sorry,” into your folds.

"Seokmin, I'm... I'm close," you manage to gasp, your voice strained with need.

He looks up at you, eyes half-lidded and glossed over. "Let go for me, baby." he murmurs against your slick skin, his words sending a fresh wave of sensation through you. He leans down enough to stick his tongue in you, and the moment he does, you feel his nose bump your clit. 

That was it—all it took for you to fall apart. Your body convulses, your muscles tightening and releasing in a torrent of ecstasy. Seokmin, driven by your cries, continues his relentless assault as you gasp and tremble beneath him. It feels endless, a cascade of bliss that leaves you breathless.

You knew his big ass nose would come in handy. 

When the waves of pleasure finally subside, you lay there, spent and sated. Seokmin remains between your legs, his gaze never leaving yours. He seems content, as if he had just accomplished something monumental, and at the same time, awe stuck by how absolutely fucked out you look. 

"Seokmin," you whisper again, your voice soft and filled with wonder.

“I know,” he mutters, crawling back up your body to kiss your lips sweetly. With deliberate slowness, he drags his pants down and lines himself up, his tip nudging at your entrance. 

Suddenly, he stops, burying his face into your chest as he realizes one thing. 

“What’s wrong?” You run a hand through his hair and he looks up at you, trying not to look too disappointed. If all he got to do today was eat you out, he would die a happy man. 

“I didn’t bring condoms.” He sighs, “I mean… I would’ve, but… I didn’t want to assume we would– I would never want you to feel like–” 

“All that overpacking and you didn’t think to bring a condom?” You giggle, letting your thumb caress his cheek. 

He grumbles, huffing out with exasperation as he hides his face in your skin again. 

After a moment, you hum contemplatively, and he can’t help but notice how little this seems to be affecting you. He ignores the pang in his chest and contemplates excusing himself to finish in the bathroom when you whisper the last thing he thought he might hear right about now: “It’s a good thing I did.” 

Slowly, he cranes his head to look back up at your eyes with his own wide ones. You wink, and he lifts himself up a little too eagerly as you tell him “They’re in my backpack. Side pocket.”

The way he rolls out of the bed and jogs over makes you laugh, rushing to find the shiny packet in your bag. When he does, he holds it up to showcase it and runs back over to you, reassuming his position between your legs. 

“You brought so many.” He blushes and you laugh. 

“Just in case. You’re not the only one who came prepared.” 

The giggles from the short interruption dissolve into happy, contented sighs as he presses his lips to yours with want. He only breaks the kiss to lean back on his heels and tear the packet open, fully removing his pants this time and slipping on the pastel colored rubber. 

You hold your breath as you feel him poking your thigh, every muscle in your body tense with anticipation. Then, with a deep sigh, he guides himself to your entrance and pushes inside, inch by inch. You gasp at the intrusion, your body stretching to accommodate him, and he freezes, waiting for you to adjust.

"Relax for me," he whispers, his voice soothing as he distracts you from any discomfort by dragging his lips from the corner of your mouth to your jaw. 

When you nod and tug his hips closer, he begins to move, pulling out almost completely before thrusting back in, his actions slow and measured.

The sensation is overwhelming, being wrapped up in you, surrounded by your soft walls. It’s so warm and so wet, better than he could ever have imagined. The way you squeeze him, the way your hands cling to him—the way you let his name fall from your lips like it belongs there. His emotions are so heightened, he has to slow down to not finish already. 

You moan, your hands clutching at the sheets beneath you, and he bends down to kiss you, his tongue licking at your bottom lip as he continues to thrust. The sound of your combined moans fills the tent, mingling with the rustle of fabric and the soft murmur of the night outside. 

Seokmin's pace gradually increases, his movements becoming more forceful, more desperate. You can feel the strain in his muscles, the tension in his body as he tries to hold back, to savor every moment. But the need is too great, the connection between you too powerful, and soon he's lost in the rhythm, his thrusts hard and steady, each one driving you closer to the edge.

"I'm so close," you gasp, your voice breaking as a particularly deep thrust hits just the right spot. "Please, please, please..."

He responds by increasing his speed, his hips snapping against yours with brutal precision. You can feel the pressure building inside you, a coiling sensation that threatens to explode at any moment. Your body arches off the bed, your nails digging into his back as you chase after that elusive climax.

"Shit, baby,” he mumbles, his voice strained. "Let me feel you come around me." His hands come up to hold yours, fingers intertwining as you mumble incoherently, squeezing your eyes shut.

And then, with one final, shuddering thrust, you do. Your body seizes, the second wave of ecstasy crashing over you as your breath catches, your release washing over you in pulsing waves. Seokmin follows closely behind, burying his face in the crook of your neck as he spills inside the condom, his body shaking with the force of his orgasm.

For a long moment, neither of you move, simply basking in the afterglow of your shared release. Seokmin's breath is warm against your skin, his heartbeat slowly returning to normal as he nuzzles into you. “You’re so pretty,” he whispers, his voice so soft you wonder if you imagined it. 

But before you can respond, he lifts his head, his eyes searching yours, forever prioritizing your needs over his. “Was that okay?”

You smile, “More than okay,” you say, your voice barely above a whisper. 

A look of sheer joy spreads across his face, and he leans down to kiss you once more, his lips lingering against yours. 

“You tired, pretty girl?” 

“Just a little.” 

“Let me clean you up, yeah?  

You hum as he gives you a one last kiss and slips out of you with a hiss, sensitive still. He tosses the condom in the trash and slips on a pair of briefs, still a little shy to be naked in front of you, despite what just went down. He goes over to the bathroom to grab some towelette wipes and a towel. 

“Let me see, honey.” He spreads your legs again, leaving a kiss at your knee before wiping away the wetness that leaked out of you. He uses the wipe, then dries you off with the towel, tossing both things before going towards your bag. 

“Where do you have your panties?” 

“Front pocket…” You mumble tiredly. A small grin forms on his face at how sweet you sound, tired, still caught up in your post orgasmic bliss. He picks out a pretty pair, white and lacy, and helps you slip it on. “You cold? Want me to get you a shirt?” 

This time, you can only nod, eyelids heavy with sleep. To avoid bothering you again with the question of ‘Where do you keep your shirts?’ he grabs one of his own and gently lifts you off the mattress to slip it over your head. You hum softly, grabbing his hand to pull him to bed as he tries to pull away again. Seokmin thinks his heart might burst. He kisses your knuckles softly, cheeks glowing.“One second, I promise,” he coos, “I just need to dim the lights.” 

As soon as he flips the switch and dims the fairy lights, he settles down beside you, feeling your arms instinctively reach for him, wrapping around his waist as you draw yourself closer.

Your face is buried against his shoulder, a soft, contented sigh escaping as you nestle in. Your breathing evens out almost immediately, eyelids fluttering closed as the last hints of wakefulness slip away. Seokmin can feel the gentle weight of your legs tangling with his, pulling him into your warmth and, for a moment, he just watches—completely captivated by how you feel against him.

A small smile tugs at his lips as he brushes his fingers over your arm, savoring this closeness and the peaceful look on your face. Every bit of tension melts away as he breathes in your familiar, comforting scent. He knows you’re fast asleep now, fully trusting and at ease in his arms, and that thought alone is enough to make his heart swell.

For the first time in a long while, he feels completely at peace. So, he lets himself relax, tucking you close as he watches over you, basking in the soft quiet of the night.

˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ 

The first time Seokmin wakes up next to you, he decides the world will never give him enough mornings by your side. 

It’s evident in everything that surrounds the two of you on that Sunday morning—it’s in the breeze blowing through the curtain of the window that you had left open the night before. It’s in the blanket you had hogged in your slumber, exposing one of his legs to feel the warm welcome of the early sun peeking in through that very window. It’s your breath that he can hear by his ear, light and shallow and calm, through soft parted lips he can’t wait to feel on his again. 

It’s your skin, smooth and delicate. It’s near him, on him, touching him in different places, across his legs and chest and arms and neck; he can’t keep count, he just knows he’s enveloped in you—and it’s igniting the most intense adoration within his bones. The kind he might have felt long ago, the kind that grips his heart and thoughts with no means of slowing down. 

It’s you, beside him, and suddenly, he can’t bear the thought of sleeping alone again. 

Your rustling brings a smile to his face, simply because he’s eager to meet your eyes once more. And when they open, unfocused but searching for his face too, they crinkle into half moons and Seokmin swoons. 

This moment, so simple and familiar, feels perfect. It’s then, when he’s least prepared, caught off-guard in his sleepy haze and admiring your soft, tired features, that he hears you say it: 

“I love you.”

From the moment the words leave your mouth, his own sit on the tip of his tongue, begging to be uttered back. 

Instead, he offers you silence. Seconds of silence after a confession so vulnerable, so true—a confession he’s needed and longed to hear from you since the moment he kissed you that first night under the flickering streetlight. 

That word—love—feels dangerous, almost cursed. The last time he’d said it to someone, the last time he felt love for someone and told them so with no hesitation in his mind, with no consideration for his fragile heart, he was humiliated. It’s silly, he knows, but each time he’d said those words before, they’d somehow signaled the beginning of the end. And he could not bear to see the end of things with you. And now, looking into your hopeful eyes, that same fear rears its head, cold and stubborn, whispering that to say it back is to invite heartbreak, to open himself up to being left behind again. It’s irrational, maybe, but the thought is paralyzing.

He swallows, managing a soft smile, trying his best to keep his face composed as his mind raises and his voice threatens to shake. His fingers brush your cheek as he murmurs the same words he uttered to you last night, “You have no idea how much you mean to me.” It’s the best he can manage, the closest he can get to saying it without actually risking the word. He hopes it’s enough, hopes you can see the love in his eyes, even if he can’t yet bring himself to say it out loud. 

“It’s okay,” you say softly, offering him a small, understanding smile. “I didn’t say it because I expected you to say it back. I said it because… well, because that’s how I feel.”

You seem to understand, at least partially, your hand squeezing his, and he can see the glimmer of acceptance in your gaze. He knows it won't be enough—momentarily, perhaps, or for an unknown amount of time, but not forever. 

You squeeze his hand again, letting out a quiet breath. “I know you’ll tell me when you’re ready,” you say, voice warm and steady. “And until then… I’m here.”

He feels the tension ease just a bit, his heart swelling with both relief and guilt. You’re being so patient, so open, and it only makes him want to be brave for you. But he just nods for now, pressing his lips into a thin line as he manages, “Thank you. For understanding.”

You give a faint nod, a smile that tries to hide the slight sadness in your eyes, and he feels his heart twist. He wishes he could tell you that he feels it too—that your confession wasn’t one-sided. But for now, he stays silent, feeling the weight of what you’ve given him settle in.

“Do you wanna get up?” He offers softly. You instantly shake your head, burying your face into his bare chest.

“Five more minutes?” you mumble. You peek up at him, your smile sleepily mischievous, and Seokmin chuckles, his hand brushing a stray hair from your face.

“Five minutes, ten—however long you want,” he whispers, leaning in to place a soft kiss on your lips. It’s unhurried, as if the whole world could wait while the two of you are wrapped up like this, tangled in each other.

When you shift beside him, stretching your arms out lazily, you glance at him with a small, reassuring smile that eases his heartbeat just a bit. He’s grateful for the way you make things easy, like even this moment doesn’t have to be heavy if you don’t want it to be. You run a hand over your face, yawning, before nudging him with your elbow.

“Guess we should get up,” you say, your tone light and natural. “Don’t want to waste a good morning, right?”

He gives a half-smile, nodding as he follows you out of bed, and you throw him a playful look over your shoulder.

“Unless you were hoping I’d stay and keep you company in bed all day?” you ask, a teasing lilt in your voice. His eyes widen slightly, a bit taken aback by your ease, but he can’t help the shy grin that spreads across his face.

“I wouldn’t complain,”  he mumbles, rubbing the back of his neck.

And with that, you slip past him to get ready, leaving him with a sense of relief—and an unmistakable, lingering warmth.

Seokmin manages to shake off some of his nerves, filling the air with his easy going laughter as he cooks breakfast and teases you over little things, falling back into the playful rhythm the two of you share so naturally. 

Your voice echoes there, soft and steady, the simple weight of those words still settling over him. Every time he catches a glimpse of you—whether it’s the gentle way you sip your coffee or the absent-minded way you tuck your hair behind your ear—it stirs a quiet ache he can’t ignore.

As Seokmin finishes up the breakfast, he watches you from the corner of his eye, letting the simple moments drift by like steady waves, lapping at the shore of his thoughts. There’s something calming about the way you settle into the space around him, fitting so easily into this quiet morning routine together, as if it’s something you’ve done a hundred times before. He hands you a plate, his fingers brushing yours briefly, and the warmth that spreads through him feels steady, grounding.

You look up, catching his gaze with a small, grateful smile that makes his chest tighten. He watches as you take a bite, the way your eyes light up with approval, and he feels his nerves settle just a little more.

“Good?” he asks, half-laughing as you give a quick nod, cheeks full, and he finds himself grinning at the way you look. 

Between bites, the two of you chat, slipping into your familiar rhythm. He makes a lighthearted comment about your hair sticking up in the back, and you laugh, nudging his arm. Somewhere in the banter, you catch his hand in yours, resting there naturally like it belongs. 

Seokmin can't help but replay those three words you said over and over in his mind, thinking of the quiet certainty in your voice, the way your eyes held his as if no hesitation existed. And now, with you here beside him, he almost says it back, the words, the words itching to be let out. But he doesn’t—he can’t; not yet.

Instead, he gently squeezes your hand, hoping, in some way, that you can feel the depth of his affection in the simple, steady warmth of his touch. The way his gaze lingers on you speaks volumes he isn’t yet brave enough to say. And you smile at him, as if you know.

The rest of the day drifts by like a dream, bathed in golden afternoon light that slowly deepens into the cool, quiet tones of evening. After breakfast, the two of you go for a short walk around the grounds, wandering past trees in full autumn colors, the air crisp and bracing. Occasionally, Seokmin’s fingers find yours, his thumb brushing over your knuckles in a way that feels both grounding and unspokenly affectionate. 

As it turns out, you and Seokmin have a knack for stumbling into things—quite literally. He catches his foot on a root hidden beneath the leaves, nearly pulling you down with him by your attached hands as he laughs, scrambling to regain balance with a sheepish grin. You poke fun at him, of course, only to nearly slip on a patch of damp grass a few steps later, and Seokmin’s hand shoots out to steady you, laughing as he catches you in his arms.

“You were saying?” he teases, eyebrows raised, his playful smirk softened by the affection in his gaze.

Later, as evening settles in, you sit together outside on the small porch, wrapped up in blankets and each other, watching the stars begin to pepper the sky. Seokmin pulls his guitar into his lap and plays a few soft, mellow chords, humming quietly, his voice blending with the evening calm. Occasionally, he looks up at you, his gaze tender and constantly admiring, as it always is. 

By the time you head inside, there’s an anticipation between you, growing steadily when the two of you embrace after your showers. The glow of the small lamp fills the room, casting soft shadows on the walls as you settle into the bed together. You both fall into an easy rhythm of conversation and laughter, whispers blending into quiet confessions and gentle touches, which eventually lose their innocence. Even then, there’s no rush, no need for words, just a sense of closeness that feels like a second skin. As one kiss leads to another, the night takes on a similar course as it had the previous evening—one that feels both familiar and thrilling in its newness. In the stillness of the campsite under the moon and stars, there’s only the soft sound of breaths, kisses, and… Well. 

The next morning arrives with a gentle sunlight spilling through the windows, casting everything in a warm glow. You wake slowly, savoring the feeling of lying next to him with the comfort of his presence still wrapped around you. You share soft smiles as you both get ready, packing up the last of your things in a comfortable, tired haze. There’s a sweetness in the routine, the way he hands you your jacket and steals a quick kiss on your cheek, as if he can’t help himself.

The drive home feels just as perfect as the drive there—filled with little moments of laughter and teasing, fingers brushing over the console, songs you hum along to together. Seokmin stops for your staple coffee time halfway to home, passing you a cup with a small grin. You glance out the window occasionally, taking in the passing landscape, but every time you turn back to him, he’s already looking at you, a soft warmth in his eyes.

It’s only when he pulls up to your place that a sense of reality settles in, a quiet reluctance to let the trip end. He helps you with your bags, walking you to your door with that familiar ease, and there’s a bittersweetness in his goodbye kiss, lingering a moment longer as if to preemptively make up for the inevitable time apart.

“See you soon?” he says softly, his hand still holding yours.

You nod, and the warmth in his gaze tells you everything you need to know, even as he steps back down the hall and out of sight.

Weeks after your first confession, you and Seokmin have fallen into an easy rhythm that feels like second nature. He’s more open now, sharing silent looks across the table, catching you with a gaze that feels almost as sentimental as the words you’re longing for him to say. He’s grown comfortable in so many ways, but in quiet moments, you still see it—that flicker of hesitance, like something inside him just can’t cross a line he’s drawn. And tonight, with the city lights casting a soft glow around his apartment, you feel ready to try again.

The two of you settle close on his couch, your legs brushing against each other as you both sink into the comfort of the evening. A movie flickers on the screen, but it’s more of a backdrop than the main event, something you both occasionally glance at in between kisses, light touches, and murmured exchanges.

Seokmin leans back slightly, his fingers brushing through your hair as you press closer, sharing soft, lingering kisses. It’s slow, unhurried, and he lets himself forget everything else for a while, entirely caught up in the feeling of you next to him. His hand finds yours, fingers lacing together, giving a gentle squeeze. After a while of pretending to watch the screen, he pulls you a little closer, his gaze searching yours for a moment before he tilts his head, brushing another soft kiss to the corner of your mouth. And then another, slower and deeper this time.

His nose digs into your cheek and you smile, cradling his face in your hands, letting them wander around to the back of his neck, where you run your fingers through his hair.

The movie fades further into the background, replaced by warmth and soft laughter as you lose yourselves in each other, both of you letting the feeling settle deeper into your bones. It’s simple, but for Seokmin, it’s the kind of night that reminds him why he’s feeling so swept up in you.

You turn toward him on the couch, reaching out to trace your fingers gently along his arm, and catch his gaze. He smiles, eyes softening as he leans into your touch. The moment feels right, and with a steadying breath, you let the words spill out again: “I love you.”

For a moment, he goes completely still. You see a rush of emotion in his eyes, something soft, vulnerable and unguarded, and you think—just for a heartbeat—that this might be the time he finally lets go of whatever’s holding him back. But the warmth fades, replaced by that familiar shadow of hesitation. His fingers curl around yours, gripping tight as if holding on could substitute for the words he can’t bring himself to say. He presses his lips to the back of your hand and sighs. 

“Thank you,” he murmurs, voice thick with emotion, his gaze falling as though he’s searching for something on the floor.

Your gaze drops from his too, focusing somewhere off to the side, and your grip on his hand loosens, as if without thinking, like something in you is just pulling away.

A soft, reassuring smile comes to your lips, and you do your best to hold it there, but it doesn’t quite reach your eyes. When he squeezes your hand, he feels you squeeze back, and you’re still right there beside him, warm and present. But Seokmin can feel the edges of something—uncertainty, maybe—hovering, just barely.

While your heart aches with a sting that’s sharper than last time, you brush it aside, leaning closer to reassure him, trying to smooth the hurt in both of you. “It’s okay, Seokmin,” you whisper, thumb tracing over his knuckles softly. “I didn’t say it to hear it back… I just wanted you to know.”

His eyes meet yours, full of regret and something else—something deeper that can’t be voiced. He gently lifts your hand, pressing it against his chest, over his heart, as if willing you to feel everything he wishes he could say. “I’m so sorry. It’s… it’s not fair to you.” His voice trembles, the words catching in his throat. “It’s not that I don’t feel it, I just…”

You nod slowly, holding his gaze even though your own emotions are mixed—somewhere between understanding and the ache of waiting. “I know you care about me, Seokmin. I’m trying to be patient, really. I…” You hesitate, searching for the right words. “I wish you’d let yourself believe in this too. I don’t want you to be afraid of it.”

He tightens his grip on your hand, his eyes turning somber. “It’s not that I don’t believe in it,” he says, his voice soft, almost pleading. “It’s that every time I say those words, it feels like… like saying it out loud will make it vanish. And I don’t ever want to lose you.”

Your expression softens. “You won’t lose me, Seokmin. I’m right here.” 

Seokmin feels a knot in his chest, seeing the quiet disappointment in your eyes, a look he never wanted to be the cause of. He pulls you closer, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead as if trying to bridge the gap with touch instead of words. He’s silent for a moment, caught between the instinct to protect himself and the fear that he’ll push you away if he doesn’t change. The tension melts, if only a little, as he wraps his arms around you, anchoring you to him with a fierce kind of tenderness.

You don’t say anything, and neither does he. The warmth between your bodies fills the space where the silence lies, saying enough for the time being, and you feel your eyelids growing heavier as the quiet lulls you toward sleep. His hand drifts up to brush through your hair, a touch so gentle that it makes you smile, just barely, and you let yourself drift off, hoping, as his heartbeat thrums against your cheek, that it’s all for you.

˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ 

≡;- ꒰ ° three꒱

The night starts quietly, with the two of you curled up on his couch, the dim, golden glow from the living room lamp casting a warm hue around you. You talk about everything and nothing—work, weekend plans, the idea of a trip he wants to take you on. Each topic drifts easily between you, filling the space with laughter, shared glances, and gentle touches.

Seokmin has his arm loosely draped around your shoulders, his fingers tracing light patterns on your arm as you lean into his warmth. Occasionally, he reaches over to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear, his thumb lingering softly against your cheek, giving you a gentle smile that makes your heart flutter. It’s in these tiny, quiet moments that you feel his affection most—unspoken, steady, as if no words are needed.

At one point, he leans down to kiss you, his lips warm and tender with a hand sitting at the base of your neck. You kiss him back a little slower, savoring the sweetness of it. When he pulls away, he nudges you playfully, his eyes crinkling with that familiar, affectionate look that never fails to make you feel giddy.

“You’re going to stay the night, right?” he asks, his tone just a little shy, though his fingers are threaded through yours with a quiet confidence that feels both fragile and sure.

Smiling, you nestle closer, feeling that familiar spark in your chest. “If you’ll have me,” you tease, laughing as he tugs you even closer, your head settling comfortably against his chest as his hand traces slow circles along your back.

He nods, a quiet joy in his eyes as he presses a light kiss to your forehead. His hand finds yours again, fingers curling around yours in a small, reassuring squeeze. For a moment, he looks like he wants to say something, his gaze lingering on your face as if he’s searching for the right words.

Instead, you break the silence, giving his hand a gentle squeeze. “Baby,” you murmur softly, a little smile tugging at the corners of your lips, “I really… I care about you, a lot.”

His smile softens, his eyes warm as they meet yours. “Me too,” he replies quietly, his thumb brushing gently over your knuckles. His gaze holds something vulnerable beneath the surface, a weight to his affection that feels so real, even if he doesn’t say it.

The conversation drifts on, flowing from one topic to another as the minutes slip by. Every now and then, he leans in to kiss you again, an affectionate touch of lips that lingers a little longer each time, filled with a quiet intensity that makes you feel wanted, cherished. As the evening wears on, you find yourself wrapped in his arms, half-drowsy and content, happy to simply exist there in his warmth. You leave a kiss on his throat and the words leave your mouth unexpectedly; soft, steady, unplanned, as if saying them was the most natural thing in the world, “Seokmin… I love you.”

The room grows still, and Seokmin’s face shifts immediately, as though he’s braced himself for something he isn’t sure he can accept. He looks away, lips pressing into a tight line. There’s a quiet between you, but it isn’t the warm silence you’re used to; it’s the kind that leaves you feeling exposed.

After a beat, he exhales sharply. “I… I don’t know what to say.”

You feel frustration stirring, a tightness forming in your chest. “Seokmin, it’s the third time I’ve told you in the last three months, and I still haven’t heard anything back. Not even once.”

He rubs the back of his neck, avoiding your gaze. “It’s… it’s complicated. I told you that.”

You take a deep breath, nodding, trying to keep your voice even. “I understand. But don’t you think it’s a little unfair? I’m putting myself out there, and every time, you just… close up.” You glance down, the words catching in your throat as you add, “I don’t even know if you want this to be anything serious, Seokmin.”

Your words hit him, and his brows furrow as he finally looks back at you. “Of course I do. Why do you think I’m with you?”

You shake your head, exasperated. “Then why can’t you say it? Why can’t you just say you love me?”

He sighs, clearly struggling, and you can see the way he’s wrestling with the internal conflict he’s been carrying for so long. But before he can answer, your phone buzzes, drawing both your eyes to the screen as it lights up with a message. You barely look at it, just a quick glance, but Seokmin’s expression shifts, his eyes narrowing as he catches sight of the heart emoji he had seen back when you left your phone on the bus.

“Who’s texting you?” he asks, a hint of irritation in his voice.

You look down at the name, realizing with a sinking feeling that it’s from your ex. You hadn’t changed the contact since meeting Seokmin, hadn’t thought about it, really. But the moment feels heavy as you explain, “It’s just… someone from a while ago. We don’t talk anymore.”

His mouth twitches in a half-bitter smile, half-scoff as he lifts himself up from under you, standing up to pace. “A heart emoji? Doesn’t seem like ‘just someone.’”

You follow, reaching for his hand, but he pulls away, pain in his eyes harder than you’ve ever seen. “Seokmin, it’s not what you think. I haven’t talked to him since we started seeing each other.”

But he shakes his head, looking away. “You say that, but how am I supposed to believe it? I’ve been here before, and I know what happens next.”

The accusation hits you like a slap, disbelief mingling with anger. “Are you serious? Seokmin, I’ve done nothing but give you every reason to trust me. I’ve waited, I’ve been patient with you. I told you how I feel because I thought you’d want to know, not so I could be questioned like this.”

His voice rises, defensiveness seeping in. “You don’t understand, okay? You don’t know what it’s like to think everything’s fine and then realize it was all a lie. I can’t just give myself away like that. I’m not ready.”

The frustration boils over, and your voice trembles as you retort, “Then maybe you shouldn’t have been with me if you weren’t ready for someone who actually loves you.” You take a step back, feeling a crack in the wall you’ve been holding up. “And you know what? I don’t even want to hear ‘I love you’ now, not like this. Not if I have to beg for it.”

Seokmin looks away, swallowing, and for a moment, neither of you says anything. The silence between you feels like a chasm, a point you can’t return from. Finally, his voice softens, barely above a whisper. “Maybe I just… don’t know how to love anyone right.”

The silence stretches uncomfortably, the weight of his words filling the space between you. Your heart twists, but instead of softening, it stirs your anger.

“You know what, Seokmin?” You break the silence, voice sharper than you intend. “I don’t think you really want this. And God, that fucking sucks—because every day with you felt like I finally got everything I ever wanted. But apparently the feeling isn’t mutual. I mean, you say you care, but every time I take a step closer, you’re right there pushing me back.”

His expression hardens, and he crosses his arms defensively. “And maybe I don’t want to get hurt again. You think it’s easy for me to just jump in like nothing happened?”

You shake your head, exasperated. “I get that you have baggage, but what about mine? You don’t think it hurts every time I tell you how I feel, and you just stare at me like it’s some impossible thing for you to say back? Like I’m asking too much from you?” You scoff, shaking your head. “Maybe that’s on me for thinking I could mean more to you than just… this convenient relationship you can pull away from whenever you feel like it.”

He takes a step back, his eyes blazing with hurt and anger. “Convenient? You think this is convenient for me? You think everything we did means nothing to me? You think you mean nothing to me?”

Your voice breaks, hurt now outweighing the anger. “You never even asked me to be your girlfriend, Seokmin!” He looks over, finding that tears have begun pooling in your eyes. “I feel like I’m just waiting around for you to make up your mind.”

Seokmin freezes, his heart sinking at the sight of your tears. The words hit him harder than anything else you’ve said. He hadn’t realized how much he’d been taking for granted, how much he’d been leaving you to carry on your own. The look on your face—raw, vulnerable, and heartbroken—pierces him in a way nothing else has.

His breath catches in his throat, and for a moment, he can’t move. His chest feels tight, like there’s a weight pressing down on him. He had always thought he was doing enough, that his feelings for you would be enough to show how much you meant to him. But hearing you say those words—waiting around for him to make up his mind—it’s like a gut punch. He never intended for you to feel this way.

“Y/N…” he starts, his voice strained and unsteady. His hand hovers in the air as if unsure whether to reach for you or not, the space between you seeming wider than ever. His lips tremble slightly, and he takes a step forward, but you don’t move. The distance between you feels like an impenetrable wall, and he feels like he’s losing you with every passing second.

“I—I never meant for you to feel that way,” he says, his words faltering. His eyes flicker between you and the floor, unsure of how to fix the brokenness that’s suddenly so palpable between you two. “I… I thought you knew how much I care about you. I thought I was doing enough…”

His voice trails off, and the realization dawns on him like a harsh slap. He didn’t ask you to be his girlfriend. He didn’t make it clear how serious he was. He just assumed you knew. And now, seeing the hurt in your eyes, he understands how wrong he’s been.

“I—I never wanted you to feel like you were waiting. I just… I don’t know what I’m doing,” he admits, his voice thick with regret. His chest feels tight, constricted by the weight of his own inaction. “I didn’t realize how much I was asking of you.”

He takes another tentative step toward you, his hands trembling slightly as they reach for yours. This time, when he touches your hand, there’s no hesitation—just a desperate need to bridge the gap between you. His fingers wrap gently around yours, his thumb brushing over your knuckles, his gaze searching yours for any sign that there’s still hope.

“I never wanted to hurt you. I just didn’t know how to… how to make it right.” He shakes his head in disbelief, as if trying to make sense of it all. The weight of everything he’s left unsaid presses down on him, and the guilt gnaws at him, leaving him feeling smaller with each passing second. "Please, just tell me how to fix it," he says quietly, his voice barely audible. "I don’t want to lose you. But–” You roll your eyes before he even elaborates, already knowing where his point is going, “I can’t. Not after what happened last time.” 

You take your hand out of his grip, clenching your fists. “Do you even hear yourself? I’ve been here, Seokmin. I stayed, I waited, I tried. But all you’re doing is punishing me for something that has nothing to do with me. And I can’t keep trying to prove myself to you when you’re already convinced I’m going to hurt you.”

Seokmin’s expression twists with frustration, his voice dropping, “Well, maybe that’s because people like you always do. You say you’re here now, but I’ve seen what happens next. You’ll find someone else, someone who can say all the right things, and you’ll leave me just like everyone else has.”

There’s a sudden ache in your chest, a pang of betrayal, and it’s your turn to take a step back. “People like me?” you repeat, voice trembling. “You think so little of me that you’d group me with whatever happened to you before? How could you possibly believe that after everything we’ve been through?”

He glances away, unable to answer, but his silence only fuels your frustration.

“Maybe you’re right,” you say, voice barely above a whisper but seething. “Maybe you’re not the guy for me. Because I deserve someone who trusts me, who wants to be with me, and isn’t stuck in this endless cycle of doubt and fear.”

The words hang in the air between you, and Seokmin’s face instantly shifts from anger to something far more fragile. His eyes widen, and he looks as if you’ve struck him—like he hadn’t considered, not for a second, that things could actually end this way.

“You… you don’t mean that,” he says, voice barely above a whisper. He takes a step toward you, desperation in his eyes. “You can’t just… walk away. We can work through this; I’ll try harder.”

You shake your head, the weight of disappointment settling heavily in your chest. “Seokmin, this isn’t about trying harder. It’s about trust, about feeling like you actually want me in your life. I can’t keep pouring myself into this when you’re too afraid to meet me halfway.”

His voice cracks as he pleads, “But I need you. I just… I didn’t know how to say it before. I’m sorry. I thought… I thought you’d understand. I thought you’d give me more time.”

You can feel your resolve start to waver, but you swallow hard, staying strong. “I thought I could, too. But it’s not fair to keep asking me to wait. I’m not your past, Seokmin. I’m here, right now, trying to build a future with you. And if that’s not something you can give me…” You take a shaky breath, the finality of it sinking in, “…then maybe this isn’t right.”

The devastation on his face is clear, and he takes another step toward you, reaching out hesitantly as if afraid you’ll pull away. “No, please… I’ll try to be better. I don’t want to lose you.”

Your chest tightens at the rawness in his voice, and for a moment, you soften. But there’s still an ache, a lingering feeling that’s been growing with each unspoken “I love you,” each moment he couldn’t bring himself to trust you.

“Seokmin, I didn’t want it to come to this,” you murmur, voice breaking slightly. “But I can’t be the only one fighting for us. You need to want this, too. Not just because you’re afraid of being alone, but because you’re willing to love me.”

He’s silent, his hands dropping as his gaze falls to the floor, visibly struggling with the weight of your words. Finally, he nods, a defeated look in his eyes. “I do want to… but I don’t know how.”

You close your eyes, heart aching for him—for what could have been, for the love that’s still there between you but not enough to hold you together. You gently touch his arm, feeling the warmth of his skin one last time. “I hope you figure it out, Seokmin. For both of us.”

He looks up, a tear slipping down his cheek as he whispers, “I’m so sorry.” And you walk out the door, leaving him standing alone in his living room. 

The silence presses in around him, heavy and suffocating, like an oppressive weight settling over his chest. His body feels frozen, like he’s still trying to catch up to the reality of what just happened, the weight of your words and the finality of your departure sinking into his bones.

He rubs his face with both hands, the frustration and guilt bubbling up in a way that feels suffocating. His mind spins, replaying the argument over and over again, each word cutting deeper than the last. You were right. He never asked you to be his girlfriend. He never gave you the security you needed, the assurance you deserved. And now, the one person he thought would always be there, the one person he couldn’t afford to lose, was walking away.

He drags a hand through his hair, pacing across the room aimlessly, unsure of what to do with himself. His mind races, but everything feels so muddled, so unclear. He knows he messed up, but he doesn’t know how to fix it. He didn’t know how much he’d taken for granted until it was too late, until you were gone.

His breath comes in shallow bursts, and suddenly, the tears come, hot and stinging against his eyes.

He doesn’t try to stop them. They fall freely, a mixture of frustration, guilt, and regret overwhelming him. The harshness of the argument fades into the quiet ache of realizing what he’s lost, and with it, the reality of how deeply he’s hurt you. His chest tightens with every tear that slips down his face, the lump in his throat growing impossibly heavier.

He slumps further into the couch, his face in his hands as he tries to catch his breath. The sobs come harder now, raw and uncontrollable. He’d never imagined it would end like this—he’d always believed things would somehow work out, that time would fix everything, that he could somehow get over his own fears and be the person you needed. But now, in the quiet aftermath, all he can feel is the void left by your absence, and the fear that maybe it’s too late for any of it.

Should he have followed you outside? Grabbed your arm, held you against his chest, begged you not to leave? Would it have made a difference? 

He paces back and forth in the living room, his thoughts a jumbled mess. Every step feels like it’s dragging him deeper into a pit, each round of his feet against the floor only making him feel more isolated. The tears that had come earlier are dry now, but the hurt still lingers, gnawing at him. His mind is a whirlwind, replaying everything from the argument to the moment you walked out.

I didn’t mean to hurt you. The thought runs over and over in his mind, but he’s not sure how to make it stop, how to undo what’s been said. He’s not sure what’s scarier: the fact that he couldn’t say the words you needed to hear or that now, in the aftermath, he’s terrified of losing you.

His eyes keep drifting to his phone, as though waiting for some kind of sign, a message from you, maybe, telling him you’ve reconsidered. But there’s nothing. Just the empty silence that presses down on him, the space between you growing further with each passing minute.

Hours slip by, and eventually, he can’t stay awake any longer. He drags himself to his bedroom, his limbs heavy and uncoordinated, like everything is moving in slow motion. The bed feels too big, too empty without you beside him, where you were supposed to lie tonight, in his arms. He lays down but can’t seem to settle, tossing and turning as thoughts of you invade his every attempt at rest.

His mind drifts back to the warmth of your laughter, the softness of your touch, how easily the two of you had fit together. And now, he’s left with this cold, aching emptiness. He can’t stop thinking about you—how he should’ve told you everything you needed to hear, how he could’ve fixed it.

But all he can do now is lie awake, staring at the ceiling, hoping, wishing, that somehow, he’ll find a way to make things right.

˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚

The days since you’d left feel like an eternity. A month and a half. 

The space between you and Seokmin has grown too wide to bridge, but every day, as he drives home from work, he’s haunted by the sight of you getting off the bus at your usual stop. There’s a painful rhythm to it now, a constant reminder of what once was and how easily it all slipped away. He can’t help but notice the way your shoulders are hunched, the distance in your stride, as if you too are carrying a weight you hadn’t expected.

Seokmin keeps his eyes on the road, trying not to look, but every day, it’s harder to ignore. His heart aches with the knowledge that you’re right there—so close, yet untouchable.

It’s a quiet torment, this space between you two. The conversations with his friends, the questions about you, all feel like another layer of pressure, a weight he can’t seem to shrug off.

“Hey, Seokmin,” Seungkwan says one evening, voice light but laced with concern as he wipes down his work station. “Have you heard from Y/N? I haven’t seen her around lately. Did you guys have a fight or something?”

Seokmin stiffens, his grip on the rag he’s holding tightening. His best friend’s eyes are searching, but Seokmin doesn’t know how to explain. How could he? The words still feel heavy in his mouth, and he’s not sure how much longer he can lie about it.

“I… uh… we just haven’t talked in a while,” Seokmin says, his voice unsteady, the smile he tries to muster faltering. “I think she’s been busy with schoolwork, you know?”

Seungkwan doesn’t press, though the concern in his eyes doesn’t go unnoticed. It’s hard for Seokmin to explain what’s going on, especially when it feels like everything’s been left unsaid, hanging in the air like a storm that never quite hits. 

Then, it’s Joshua at the coffee shop, always quick to greet Seokmin with his usual bright energy, but his tone shifts a little when he mentions you. “So, where’s your friend been? Haven’t seen her in here lately. You two still hanging out?”

Seokmin’s chest tightens, the words harder to push out than he expects. “Yeah, she’s just been busy with some stuff. You know how it is.”

Joshua looks at him for a moment, expression softening as though he’s trying to piece things together, but he says nothing. Instead, he just hands over Seokmin’s coffee with a knowing smile, as if that’s all he can offer for now.

Seokmin hates the question, the one he can’t answer truthfully. Every time it comes up, it breaks something inside him. So, when Mr. Kim asks why you haven’t been coming by to read his books, Seokmin smiles—his smile that feels too heavy, too tired—and gives the same response he’s been giving for weeks. “She’s been busy, Mr. Kim. I’m sure she’ll stop by again soon.”

Mr. Kim, not catching the underlying sadness, just nods and pats Seokmin’s shoulder, his eyes warm with understanding. “I hope so. It’s not the same without her.”

But the worst of it all is when Ms. Boo, Seungkwan’s grandmother, asks. Seokmin has always had a soft spot for the elderly woman, and her memory isn’t what it used to be, so she asks about you often—sometimes multiple times in a week.

Each time, it feels like a new cut. She looks up at him with bright, hopeful eyes, always asking where you’ve gone, if you’re coming to visit again soon. 

Seokmin forces the smile to stay in place, masking the rawness he feels. “She’s just been busy with school, Ms. Boo. Everything’s alright, I promise. She’ll be back soon.”

But there’s always something about the way she looks at him that feels like she sees through the mask, as if she can tell something isn’t right. She doesn’t say it out loud, but the way she sighs, the way her face falls just a little, makes it clear that she can feel the change in the air. She sees it in the flowers, too. Despite how hard Seokmin tries to hide it, the displays at the window have begun to look lifeless and dull once more. 

Seungkwan, who has overheard all these conversations, sees how his grandmother’s face changes with each of these questions. He sees how Seokmin’s eyes dim just a little bit more each time he lies. It breaks his heart to watch, and yet, he doesn’t know how to fix it. He doesn’t know how to make it better for his friend.

Seokmin is a shell of himself when he’s alone in his apartment, and Seungkwan knows it. He’s seen it in the way Seokmin walks through the coffee shop doors, the way his shoulders slump more with each passing day. But there’s nothing to say. Nothing Seungkwan can do except wait for Seokmin to find a way out of this quiet agony.

And Seokmin, for his part, is slowly suffocating in it. The silence between them stretches on, a cruel reminder of how things can slip away when the words left unsaid are too heavy to carry.

˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚

Seokmin can’t take it anymore. Every day, he drives past your stop, sees you walking away, and it feels like he's still chasing something he can't reach. He hasn’t let go, not really. It’s been two months, but the feeling of being cut off from you gnaws at him relentlessly. He doesn’t know how to fix it, but he knows he can’t keep waiting, not like this.

He picks up his phone, fingers trembling slightly as he stares at your name in his contacts. The screen is bright in the dimness of his apartment, a silent reminder of all the things left unsaid between you two. He hesitates for a moment, but it’s only a moment—he doesn’t want to regret this. Not this time.

He taps your name, the sound of the call connecting ringing in his ears. It rings and rings, each second stretching longer than the last. His heart beats louder in his chest, and as the voicemail prompt comes through, he lets out a shaky breath.

The words tumble out before he can stop them, a rush of everything he’s been holding back, the things he hasn’t said and should’ve said weeks ago.

“Hey,” he starts, his voice quiet but steady. “I know we haven’t talked in a while, but… I wanted you to know that I miss you, and I miss us. And… I’m in love with you, if that means anything to you now.”

He swallows hard again, the confession hanging in the air, vulnerable and raw. “I just—” His voice cracks for a second before he regains himself. “I just need you to know that. Because I can’t pretend I don’t feel it anymore. And I can’t keep pretending that I don’t miss you. Even if this is too late. Even if you’re already moving on.”

The words weigh heavily on him, but there’s something freeing about saying them out loud, even if it’s just into a voicemail.

He lets out a shaky breath, the lump in his throat tightening as he finishes, “I don’t know what you want or how you feel anymore, but I hope, in some way, you know how much you mean to me. And maybe—just maybe—you’ll understand that when I say I’m sorry for everything that went wrong, I mean it. I really do.”

He pauses again, the finality of the message weighing on him, and he rubs the back of his neck, closing his eyes as if imagining you were hearing him now.

“I hope you’re doing okay. Whatever you decide, just… know that I miss you. I’m sorry. And I love you. I always have.”

His hand falls to his side as the beep signaling the end of the message rings in his ears, leaving a silence that feels even heavier than the one before.

Seokmin stares at the phone in his hand, his breath shaky, heart pounding. The message is sent, but the weight of it doesn’t lift. In fact, everything feels heavier, as if saying those words has only made the space between you feel even more real. He rubs his eyes, trying to hold back the tears that threaten to fall. His chest feels tight, a lump in his throat that won’t go away no matter how many times he exhales.

He stares at the phone, unable to look away. His mind is flooded with memories of you—the way you used to laugh, how your eyes would light up when you'd talk about something you loved, how your hand felt in his, so warm and familiar. He’d taken it all for granted. And now, with the message sent and no immediate response, the silence between you feels deafening.

His eyes water, his throat tightens with the kind of ache that no words can fix. It’s strange how he can feel so empty yet so full of regret at the same time. He thought saying the words would somehow bring relief, some kind of release, but instead, it only makes him realize how much he’s lost. How much he’s hurt you. How he hasn’t been the person he wanted to be for you, not the way he promised he would.

The thought of you not listening to the message, not responding, makes the knot in his stomach twist tighter. What if you’ve already moved on? What if it’s too late for him to fix anything? He can barely bring himself to imagine it.

Seokmin blinks rapidly, trying to clear his vision, but it doesn’t help. His tears spill over, and for the first time since the night you walked out, he lets himself really cry. He sits there, phone still in his hand, the emptiness of the room almost suffocating. 

"Please listen," he whispers to the empty room, as though saying it out loud might somehow make it real. The words feel weak, pathetic even, but they’re all he has left.

He sets the phone down on the couch beside him, a hollow ache settling in his chest. The message he left you was everything he needed to say, but it still doesn’t feel like enough. His fingers twitch, almost instinctively, reaching for his phone again as if the act of texting or calling might undo the quiet that’s consumed him. But he doesn’t. His hand falls to his side, heavy and lifeless.

Seokmin feels the weight of it all in the stillness, like the air itself is pressing down on him. He pulls his knees up to his chest, wrapping his arms around them in a loose embrace. His thoughts drift back to the fight, to the moment he knew things had cracked between the two of you. He could still hear your voice, the pain and frustration in it, the words you said—I’m just waiting around for you to make up your mind. They replay over and over, no matter how hard he tries to shake them off.

The silence stretches on, suffocating. The clock ticks, each second heavier than the last. Seokmin’s breath shudders as his mind replays every moment, every opportunity he had to say the words that could have made a difference. But he never did. He never allowed himself to take that step, always too afraid that he’d screw it up, that he’d let you down. And now, in the quiet aftermath of everything, he realizes how much he truly let you down.

His body feels tired, worn, but sleep doesn’t come. Not tonight. He lies back on the couch, staring up at the ceiling as the minutes tick by. His eyes are red, his heart heavier than it’s ever been. 

The next morning, Seokmin wakes up to the sound of his phone buzzing beside. He groans, blinking into the early light of the day, the ache in his chest still persistent. He’s been lying on the couch for hours, unable to fall asleep, but exhausted all the same. When he finally brings himself to stand, his phone buzzes again with a text from Seungkwan.

“Hey, we’re coming over. You okay?”

As much as he wants to curl up and shut out the world, he knows Seungkwan won’t let that happen. And Soonyoung, ever the optimistic force, won’t leave him alone until they can make him smile again.

He doesn’t respond right away. Instead, he slowly trudges into the kitchen, staring blankly at the coffee maker as if it holds the secret to feeling better. He pours a cup, the warm liquid comforting in the way only caffeine can, but it doesn’t do anything for the hollow ache that’s settled into his ribs.

When the doorbell rings, he’s still holding the mug, his fingers cold around it. He doesn’t even bother to put it down as he goes to open the door.

Seungkwan and Soonyoung are standing there, both grinning wide, but it doesn’t take long for them to notice how Seokmin’s smile doesn’t quite reach his eyes. His hair is a mess, his clothes wrinkled, but it’s the way he carries himself that tells them everything.

“Seokmin,” Seungkwan says softly, stepping forward and clapping a hand on his shoulder. “What’s going on, man? You’ve been off lately. It’s obvious.”

Seokmin doesn’t say anything at first. He just gives a small shrug, trying to brush them off, but Soonyoung isn’t having it.

“Don’t give us that. We’ve been your friends for too long,” Soonyoung says, his voice light but with an edge of concern. “We’re here to hang out, but if something’s bothering you, you know you can talk to us, right?”

Seokmin forces a laugh, but it sounds hollow. He rubs a hand over his face, suddenly feeling the weight of how truly alone he felt settling even deeper in his chest.

“I… I don’t know, guys. I don’t think it’ll make a difference, but…” His voice trails off, and for a moment, he wonders if he should just tell them. If he could just say the words, maybe it would make everything easier.

Seungkwan glances at Soonyoung, and the two of them silently agree. Soonyoung gestures toward the couch. “Come on, sit down. We’re not leaving until you spill, man.”

With a heavy sigh, Seokmin sits down, his body slumping into the couch. He finally sets the mug down on the coffee table and stares at his hands. It’s like the weight of everything is suddenly too much to bear, and he can’t keep it bottled up anymore.

“I… I messed up,” Seokmin starts, his voice tight, a lump forming in his throat. “I messed up with her. She—she told me she loved me, and I couldn’t say it back.”

Both Seungkwan and Soonyoung freeze, exchanging a glance, then turning back to him. Seungkwan speaks first, his voice gentle. “What do you mean, you couldn’t say it back? I thought things were going well.”

Seokmin runs his hands through his hair in frustration. “I don’t know, I just—I was so scared. I couldn’t let myself fall for her, not completely. I was afraid of getting hurt again. So when she told me she loved me, I froze. I couldn’t say it. And she—she called me out on it. She asked me why I couldn’t just say it, why I never even asked her to be my girlfriend. And then…” His voice breaks, and he wipes his eyes, embarrassed. “And then I let her go. I didn’t fight for her. I didn’t even try.”

The room falls silent, the weight of Seokmin’s confession settling between them. Soonyoung’s voice is quiet when he finally speaks, but there’s an edge of disbelief in it. “You didn’t ask her to be your girlfriend?” He shakes his head, as if trying to make sense of it. “What the hell?”

“I know,” Seokmin replies, his voice barely a whisper. “I was an idiot. I let the fear get in the way, and now… now she’s gone. I haven’t heard from her in weeks. And I’ve been… I’ve been torturing myself thinking I could fix it somehow, but I don’t know if I can anymore.”

Seungkwan sits down beside him, his tone firm but understanding. “So what, you’re just giving up? You can’t expect to just let this go without trying to make it right. You love her, don’t you?”

Seokmin nods without hesitation, his eyes full of regret. “Yeah. I love her. I think I always have, but I was too afraid to admit it, to act on it. And now I think I’ve lost her for good.”

Soonyoung leans forward, his expression serious. “Look, you can’t keep doing this to yourself. If she really means that much to you, you can’t just walk away from it. You have to try, even if it’s scary.”

Seungkwan chimes in, his voice quieter but equally earnest. “We’re here for you, okay? You don’t have to do this alone.”

Seokmin nods, feeling the weight of their words sink in. The guilt is still there, gnawing at him, but for the first time in weeks, he doesn’t feel so alone in it. Maybe there’s still a chance to make things right. 

“I... I called her,” he admits quietly, his voice hesitant, like he’s unsure if admitting it will make it real. He looks up at Seungkwan and Soonyoung, who are both watching him closely, waiting for him to continue. “I left her a voicemail last night.”

The room goes still, and Seungkwan leans forward, his brows furrowing in concern. “A voicemail? What did you say?”

Seokmin takes a deep breath, running a hand through his hair again. “I told her I miss her. I told her I miss us. And then... I told her I love her. I said it. I just… I don’t know if it matters anymore. She hasn’t responded.”

Soonyoung’s expression softens. “That’s huge. But you can’t just expect one voicemail to fix everything. Maybe… maybe she needs time too.”

“I know,” Seokmin says, his voice raw with emotion. “But it doesn’t feel like it’s enough. I just—I don’t even know where to start.”

Seungkwan places a hand on his shoulder, offering a small, supportive squeeze. “You did the right thing by reaching out, Seokmin. You told her how you felt, and now you have to give her the space to process it. You can’t control how she responds, but you can control how you act. And the fact that you’re willing to try—well, that says a lot.”

Seokmin’s gaze drifts to the window, the weight of the situation heavy on his chest. His voice cracks as he speaks again. “I just don’t want to lose her. Not like this.”

“Then don’t give up,” Soonyoung says firmly, a quiet determination in his words. “You’ve taken the first step. Now it’s time to show her that you’re serious about making things right. She might need to hear from you again. Maybe not right away, but eventually.”

Seungkwan adds quickly, “But don’t rush it. You’ve got to be patient with her, and with yourself. You can’t undo what’s happened, but you can start moving forward. And if she’s meant to be with you, she’ll see that.”

Seokmin nods, the weight in his chest easing slightly. He’s still unsure about what the future holds, but hearing his friends’ words gives him a sense of hope he hasn’t felt in weeks. There’s still a chance, even if it seems small. And for now, that’s enough to hold onto.

“Thanks,” Seokmin murmurs, his voice thick with gratitude. “You guys really don’t know how much this means to me.”

The day drags on as Seokmin tries to focus on what Seungkwan and Soonyoung have planned for him. They’ve taken him out for some outdoor activity—something to get him out of the house and away from the constant, gnawing worry that’s been eating at him since he left that voicemail.

They’re hiking up a trail, the air fresh and crisp around them, the sounds of birds calling and wind rustling through the trees. Seokmin knows they’re trying to get him to focus on something else, but his mind keeps drifting back to his phone. He checks it every few minutes, his thumb hovering over the screen, but every time, there’s still nothing. No missed call, no message, not even an unread notification.

Seungkwan and Soonyoung chat animatedly ahead, laughing and joking, but Seokmin falls behind, his thoughts lost in the stillness of his mind. His phone buzzes in his pocket, making his heart jump, and he pulls it out eagerly, hoping—just hoping—it’s you. But when he unlocks the screen, his shoulders sag in disappointment. It’s just a message from his mom, asking if he’s eating enough. He sighs and stuffs the phone back into his pocket, trying to shake off the feeling of defeat creeping in.

“You okay, man?” Seungkwan calls back, his voice laced with concern as he notices Seokmin lagging behind.

“Yeah, just tired,” Seokmin replies with a half-smile, forcing the words out even though they don’t feel true. He stretches his legs to catch up, trying to hide the emptiness that seems to settle deeper with every minute he’s away from his phone.

Soonyoung turns around to check on him too, raising an eyebrow. “You’re not still checking your phone every five seconds, are you? Let’s enjoy today, okay? You deserve a break from the stress.”

But even as Seokmin tries to convince himself, he can’t shake the constant urge to check his phone. He tries to focus on the hike, listening to Seungkwan and Soonyoung’s conversation as they joke about how out of shape they are, but his mind keeps straying. He checks again when they stop to rest, and then again when they grab lunch at a small café after the hike.

No message. No calls. No unread messages. Nothing.

The silence feels nauseating.

They sit down at a table outside, and Seungkwan gives him a light nudge, raising his eyebrows as a silent check-in. Seokmin replies with a weak, crooked smile. As much as he tries to focus on the present moment, he finds his every thought circulating back to you. 

A month later, he hadn’t heard from you, and it had eaten away at him, slowly, quietly—like a slow, insidious rust that creeps across the metal of his soul, gradually weakening his resolve and leaving him hollowed out. 

He replayed the voicemail he’d left you a thousand times, but the silence that followed it felt like a cruel, final answer. He convinced himself that you were done with him, that you didn’t want anything to do with him anymore. The distance between you had crushed him, and as the days passed, his hope dwindled until he was convinced this was the end. 

Some days, he crashed out on his couch at night, consumed by guilt, regret, and doubt, unable to shake the feeling that he had lost you for good. Other days, he sat staring blankly at the TV, the familiar ache in his chest as a constant companion. He’s learned to live with the silence that hangs between him and you, but it’s still unbearable. The thought of you is a constant, as persistent as the ticking of a clock in the room. He’s replayed the voicemail over and over in his mind, the words you never responded to still echoing in his ears.

It’s late at night, and just as he’s about to get up to go to bed, a knock on his door freezes him in place. His heart skips a beat. For a moment, he wonders if he’s imagining things. But no—there it is again, more urgent this time.

He opens the door, his breath catching in his throat as he sees you standing there, the faint glow of hallway lights casting soft shadows across your face. You look hesitant, like you’re unsure of how to begin. The sight of you shakes him to his core, and for a moment, neither of you says anything.

He swallows hard, his voice barely above a whisper. “Y/N?”

You nod, your eyes searching his face, torn between relief and uncertainty. "I… I saw your voicemail." Your voice trembles, as if every word is a weight on your chest. "The day it came in. I just… I needed time. I needed time to figure things out."

Seokmin stands there, frozen, the full weight of what you’re saying finally sinking in. You saw it. You heard it. And yet, you didn’t respond.

“I—” He starts, but he can’t seem to find the words. The tension in the air is thick, both of you still holding onto the remnants of everything that’s gone unsaid.

"I know you were waiting for me to respond. But," you stop yourself, struggling to find the words. "You made me wait for so long, Seokmin. For 'I love you.' I needed to make you wait too. It wasn’t fair, but… that’s how I felt."

The truth stings. He’s been waiting for you, aching with every unanswered day, but hearing this—he hadn’t expected it. He hadn’t expected you to have been just as torn up inside.

“I’m sorry,” Seokmin finally manages, his voice hoarse. “I never meant to hurt you, I just… I couldn’t—” He stops himself, shaking his head. “I was so scared, Y/N. I was scared of getting hurt again. I didn’t know how to say it. But I was never trying to make you wait. I just… couldn’t.”

You take a step closer, your eyes glistening with unshed tears. “I know,” you whisper. “I get it. I really do. But it hurt. It hurt, Seokmin. All I wanted was for you to let me in, to trust me like I trusted you. And when you couldn’t say it, when you couldn’t even ask me to be yours… it made me feel like maybe I wasn’t enough. Like maybe I wasn’t worth it.”

His breath hitches in his throat, a raw ache spreading through his chest. He feels the weight of your words like a heavy stone pressing down on him.

“I’m so sorry, Y/N,” he repeats, his voice cracking. The tears he’s been holding back finally spill over, streaking down his cheeks. He doesn’t try to hide them; they just fall, one after another. “I never wanted you to feel that way. I never wanted to make you feel like you weren’t worth it. You were always worth it. I just—” His voice falters as he swallows back a sob. “I just didn’t know how to let myself love you. I was so scared of losing you that I pushed you away.”

You can’t hold back your tears either, and they fall silently as you watch him break down. Everything you’ve been holding in—every ounce of pain, of frustration, of longing—rushes to the surface, and all you can do is stand there, letting it all spill over, just like him.

“I was so angry at you, Seokmin,” you whisper, your voice breaking. “Angry because I loved you, and I wanted you to love me back so badly, but you couldn’t say it. And I hated that I had to question whether I was enough for you.”

“I know, I know,” he says, wiping his eyes, his voice thick with emotion. He wants so badly to reach for your hand, but he won’t. Not until you make the first move. Instead, he swallows, continuing. “And I’m sorry. I was selfish, and I hurt you. I was terrified of being vulnerable, and I never should have let it get this far.”

You take a deep breath, your chest tight. “I can’t go back to how things were, Seokmin. I can’t just pretend everything is okay. But I don’t want to lose you. I’ve thought about this. A lot. And the thing is, I… I forgive you. I forgive you because I know you were just scared. I get that. I do. But we can’t keep doing this, you know? We can’t keep hurting each other, over and over.”

Seokmin nods, wiping his eyes again, his heart breaking with the realization that you’ve been hurt just as much as he has. “I’m sorry. I know I don’t deserve your forgiveness, but I… I can’t imagine my life without you. I just—” He pauses, his voice catching in his throat. “I love you. I love you so much. And I should have said it. I’ve known it for so long. And fuck, you would’ve though I was crazy, but I should have said it since the night we kissed because even then, I knew. I should’ve told you I’m in love with you. Then I wouldn’t have been regretting right now.”

You suddenly laugh weakly, and he’s both so delighted at the sound he had missed, and confused, having just poured his heart out to you. Until your lips part to explain, hands swiping away at the tears on your cheeks. “Sorry–It’s just… Those are the lyrics to your song.” 

"What?" he asks softly, his voice a little strained.

You let out a shaky breath, trying to keep your composure, but there's a hint of a smile tugging at your lips. "The song," you repeat, wiping your eyes as you try to gather your thoughts. "The one you wrote, the one you sang for me at the beach."

“Oh.” At the time, the song had been just a way of sharing a piece of himself with you. But now, it felt like a mirror of everything that had gone wrong between you two—the love he couldn’t say, the hesitation, the distance that had grown between you. He had no idea then that it would be ever so relevant now. 

"I—I'm sorry," he whispers, almost afraid to speak too loud in case it shatters the fragile moment between you. "I should've said it. I should’ve made it clearer."

You shake your head, your voice breaking just a little as you reach for and squeeze his hand. "I just needed to hear those three words, Seokmin. I needed to know you meant it."

“I love you.” He repeats. And it’s real, raw, and enough to mend the cracks in your heart.

You step forward, slowly, carefully, and you wrap your arms around him. Seokmin doesn’t hesitate for a second; he pulls you close, burying his face in your hair, holding onto you like you’re the one thing that can keep him from falling apart.

“I love you too, Seokmin,” you whisper against his chest, your voice trembling. “I love you.”

And for the first time in what feels like forever, everything feels right. 

"Y/N," he starts, his voice hoarse but steady. "I know you’ve been through a lot waiting for me to figure everything out. And I want you to know... everyone’s been asking about you."

You raise an eyebrow in confusion, unsure where he’s going with this. “What do you mean? Who’s been asking?”

Seokmin gives a small laugh, rubbing the back of his neck. "Seungkwan and Soonyoung were both asking about you, about how you’re doing, how things have been. They’ve noticed something’s... off with me. And, uh, Mr. Kim, too. He said he hasn't seen you at the coffee shop lately. I think he misses having you around to borrow books from him." He hesitates, his expression turning more serious as he looks down at his feet, voice almost cracking. "And... Ms. Boo. She’s been asking about you every time I go to work. She doesn’t understand why we haven’t been hanging out. She doesn’t know what happened, and I didn’t have the heart to tell her everything. So, I told her you were just busy."

A sad smile spreads across your face at the mention of Ms. Boo. "I didn't realize they were still thinking about me," you murmur softly, feeling a lump form in your throat. "It’s been so long, I didn’t want to keep bothering them."

Seokmin shakes his head, his hand gently reaching for yours again, this time holding it with more certainty. "You never bothered anyone. I just... I didn’t know how to explain everything. And I didn’t want to make it worse."

You let out a small sigh, your heart aching. “I should’ve reached out sooner. I just... I was trying to give you space to figure things out, Seokmin.”

Seokmin’s gaze softens, and he takes another step closer to you. “I don’t want you to feel like that anymore. You’re not alone in this, and I never should’ve made you feel like you were. I’ve missed you so much. I just didn’t know how to fix everything.”

“I know,” you reply quietly, squeezing his hand. “I understand now. I just needed to know I wasn’t just... waiting around forever.”

Seokmin nods, his eyes brimming with sincerity. “I’m sorry it took so long for me to get it right. But I’m here now. And I’m not going anywhere.”

The words sink in, warm and comforting, and for the first time in months, you feel like a weight has lifted off your chest. He’s here, truly here, and that’s all you ever needed.

“You should come in,” Seokmin says gently, realizing the two of you are still standing in the doorway. “It’s late, and I don’t want you to be out here in the cold. I’ve been thinking about you every day, Y/N. I want to make up for everything I put you through.”

You glance up at him, a small but genuine smile tugging at your lips. “I’d like that.”

As you step over the threshold, Seokmin pulls the door shut behind you, his hand lingering on the knob for a second before he leads you to the living room, where you notice how much quieter it feels now that you’re back in it.

Seokmin sits next to you, close but not too close, as though still letting you take the lead. His eyes search your face for any sign of doubt, but all he finds is a quiet peace. He reaches for your hand again, intertwining your fingers with his.

The two of you sit together, talking for hours, the conversation flowing as you sift through the pain of the past months. The words you’ve both held back, the misunderstandings, the regrets, all of it is finally laid out in the open, and with every confession, every apology, the weight between you seems to lift just a little more. You cry, both of you, but the tears don’t feel heavy anymore. They’re cleansing, freeing.

Seokmin holds you close, his arms wrapping around you tightly as if to keep you there, to remind himself that this time, he wasn’t going to let you go. You bury your face in his chest, feeling the steady beat of his heart beneath your cheek, and you smile through the tears. It’s a smile that says everything you couldn’t say earlier: I’m here. I’m still here.

Seokmin reaches out slowly, almost hesitantly, as if testing the waters, before cupping your cheek in his palm. His touch is soft, tender, like he’s afraid you’ll disappear if he holds on too tight. You lean into his touch instinctively, eyes fluttering closed as his thumb traces the curve of your jaw.

His lips brush against yours at first, a delicate press that sends a spark through your chest, and you melt into it, hands reaching up to gently pull him closer. The kiss deepens just slightly, as though the floodgates have opened, and suddenly all the words you didn’t know how to say are there, in the way his lips move against yours, in the way you both cling to each other like this might be your last chance.

When you pull back, it’s almost reluctantly. Both of you are breathing a little heavier, but there’s something infinitely reassuring in the way you look at each other now. No more words are needed.

The hours slip away as the two of you laugh, talk about memories, and share quiet moments. You rest your head on Seokmin’s shoulder, your fingers gently tracing over his hand. You know the past isn’t easily forgotten, but for tonight, it doesn’t matter. It’s the two of you, right here, right now, rebuilding what you lost.

Eventually, sleep starts to pull at you both, and with one final, lingering kiss, you settle into the couch together. Seokmin shifts, adjusting himself so you’re both comfortable, and without another word, you fall asleep, wrapped in each other’s warmth.

The morning after, Seokmin wakes up with a start, blinking against the sunlight that streams through the window. His body aches from the position he’s been in, his neck sore from sleeping on the couch for what feels like the hundredth time in a row. He groans softly, stretching, and then pauses when he realizes—this time, it’s different.

It’s not the familiar emptiness that he’s grown used to, the loneliness that had made each morning feel longer than the last. It’s you. You’re still in his arms, tucked close against his side, your head resting on his chest. He feels the softness of your hair against his cheek, your warmth pressed against him, and for the first time in so long, he doesn’t feel that cold, hollow ache in his chest.

His heart swells as he watches you sleep, your face peaceful, and he’s overwhelmed with gratitude. For the first time in months, the quiet of the morning doesn’t feel like a reminder of everything he’s lost.

He breathes in slowly, savoring the moment, letting the calm wash over him. You’re here. You’re here with him, and he can’t help but smile softly at the thought. His fingers gently run through your hair, brushing it away from your face, and he holds you a little closer, not wanting to ever forget this feeling.

He smiles, soft and content, as he slowly slips out from beneath you, careful not to wake you. His movements are slow, deliberate, and as stealthy as possible.

As he quietly stands and stretches, he feels the familiar ache in his body from having slept in the same position for too long, but it’s not uncomfortable. It’s a reminder that he’s here with you. He heads into the kitchen, the soft hum of the morning settling around him as he begins preparing breakfast. There’s something soothing about the routine, the way the eggs sizzle in the pan and the faint aroma of bacon fills the air. But most of all, he takes extra care to make the coffee.

He grins as he prepares it, thinking back to those moments when you’d meet him at the shop. It was always a small moment in the day, but it felt special, like a secret between the two of you. That was when he’d get to steal a few minutes with you, to laugh, to catch up, to just be in each other’s company.

The smell of the freshly brewed coffee drifts from the kitchen and into the living room, and without realizing it, Seokmin finds himself looking over his shoulder. He doesn’t want to rush you, doesn’t want to wake you up too soon, but the idea of sharing a quiet morning together makes him giddy. He takes the coffee mug, walking back toward the couch, smiling as he notices the way you’re still curled up, your face soft with sleep.

He kneels beside the couch, the weight of the mug warm in his hands, and gently places it on the table in front of you. Your eyelids flutter, and Seokmin’s heart skips a beat when you slowly stir, your eyes opening just enough to meet his gaze. The first thing he sees is your sleepy, familiar smile, and it’s like the last few months never happened.

"Coffee time?" he asks, his voice low, teasing, but full of affection. The inside joke between you that always felt so special, so intimate—those little moments where it was just the two of you, caught in a world all your own.

Your smile widens, your eyes still half-lidded from sleep, and you stretch slightly, rubbing at your eyes as you sit up. “Coffee time," you echo, a soft laugh in your voice, like you’ve been waiting for this very moment to return.

Seokmin hands you the mug, feeling a warmth spread through him as you wrap your fingers around it, your eyes meeting his with a new sense of connection—like everything is coming back into place, slowly but surely.

And as you sip the coffee, the silence between you is filled with comfort, the kind that only comes after all the pain, all the uncertainty. You’re here, together, sharing this simple morning with each other. 

Love at first sight is undoubtedly the biggest fabrication that the media and modern culture has ever tried to push on society. It only happens in the movies and the books, and rarely is it even done right. 

In the real world, people make mistakes. They hurt the people they love, and they hurt themselves. They don’t talk for months on end, only to barely piece themselves together and try again.

Make no mistake; Lee Seokmin is not a pessimist, nor is he a bitter person. He’s the kind of guy who likes playing guitar at the beach as the waves crash against the shore, and going on spontaneous museum trips where he pretends to fully read each placard. The kind that enjoys drinking with his friends at karaoke rooms, and stumbling home tipsy under the stars. The kind that flips over a penny on the street so it’s face up—In hopes that the next stranger that finds it can have a bit of good luck. He likes picnics at the parks and vintage thrift stores full of cassette tapes and funny hats. And, as it turns out, he actually does like glamping (it really is nothing like camping).

Once upon a time, he used to be a hopeless romantic. 

That was before. 

Before you, the person who showed him that love is all of those scary things, but without them, it wouldn’t be as special as it is. As real as it is. As raw and emotional and warm as it really, truly is. 

Love is the coffee the two of you bonded over at the start—warm and inviting at first, comforting with its rich aroma that fills the air. It starts slow, the first sip lingering on your lips as you savor the sweetness, the bitterness, the complexity all wrapped up in one. At times, it can be too hot, burning you with its intensity, leaving you a little singed, but it’s that very warmth that keeps you coming back for more. Over time, as it cools, you get to know its depth, its subtle flavors unfolding with each moment shared. Sometimes it’s a little bitter, and sometimes it contains an unfathomable amount of sweetness… and then some.  

But in the end, it’s the kind of thing you can’t imagine your days—your life without.

Love at first sight—true love—It was a flat out lie, and he refused to fall for its charm ever again. 

So why, he thinks to himself, why did he so easily fall in love with you? 

End.