#like how they are like this already i just met them and they are already doing this???? i fear i'm not going to survive | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

lizziesangel · 3 days ago

Note

Request <3 Rafe asks Reader out and despite knowing of his turbulent reputation and arrogance, something in her says yes, even though she is hesitant to go. On the date, she interprets something he says as rude and storms out of there. Maybe there is a tiny little argument and rafe being sad in the sense of ‘’you have already made up your mind about me and how you expect me to act, you think I’m awful so your looking for those faults. I’ve always wanted to get to know you and I had hoped you could see me for me but clearly u think I’m bad like everyone else’’ but u kno….reader feels awful….happy end

oooh. this is gooood, had fun making this!!

+8.6k words

kie’s bedroom was buzzing with the sound of music and laughter as you sat cross-legged on her bed, your hair done, and a nervous flutter in your stomach that refused to settle. kirara was kneeling in front of you, focused intently on your makeup, her tongue poking out slightly as she concentrated.

“hold still, or i’m going to smudge your eyeliner,” she warned, her tone light but commanding.

“i can’t help it,” you said, laughing nervously. “what if this is a disaster?”

“it won’t be,” cleo chimed in from the chair near the window, her accent thick and her legs stretched out and her phone in her hand. “and if it is, we’re just one call away, sweetheart. you say the word, and we’re pulling up to rescue you.” she flashed you a wink, making you laugh despite yourself.

“okay, sit still, or i swear i’m going to stab you in the eye with this eyeliner,” kiara muttered, holding up the pencil like a weapon.

“i’m sitting still!” you protested, trying to stifle your nervous energy as she grabbed your chin and tilted it up.

“you’re fidgeting,” cleo said with a laugh. “girl, you’re more nervous than a cat in a room full of rocking chairs.”

sarah, sprawled out on the bed with her own cold curling iron abandoned beside her, propped herself up on one elbow. “okay, but like, seriously,” she said, her tone shifting to something softer, “i know he’s my brother, but... just be careful, alright?”

your gaze met hers in the mirror, and you could see the concern in her expression. “i mean, i love him. i do. but rafe’s... complicated,” she added.

“that’s an understatement,” cleo muttered under her breath.

“wow, that’s super reassuring, sarah,” kiara said, her voice dripping with sarcasm as she dabbed highlighter on your cheekbones. “way to hype him up.”

“i’m serious!” sarah insisted, crossing her arms. “i love him, and all, but he’s very complicated. you should know that before you—”

“get in too deep?” cleo cut in, smirking. “don’t worry, sweetheart. we’re just one call away if things go sideways.”

“i know,” you admitted, fiddling with the hem of your dress. “i’ve heard all the stories, sarah. but he’s been... i don’t know... different with me. like he’s trying, you know?”

“that’s because he likes you,” kie said, leaning back to admire her handiwork. “okay, close your eyes for a sec.” you did as she asked, and a moment later, you felt the soft brush of eyeshadow on your eyes. “but liking someone doesn’t mean he’s not still rafe.”

“exactly,” sarah said, pointing at kiara like she’d just proven her point. “he’s got a good heart, but he’s made some... questionable choices. just don’t let him pull any of that macho, ‘i’m too cool to care’ nonsense on you.”

“and if he does, call us,” cleo added, her tone breezy but firm. “i’ve been dying to tell that boy off for weeks.”

you couldn’t help but laugh at the mental image of cleo storming in, ready to confront rafe on your behalf. “thanks, guys. i appreciate the backup.”

“that’s what we’re here for,” kie said, standing up and dusting her hands like she’d just finished a masterpiece. “alright, check it out.”

you turned to the mirror, your jaw dropping slightly at your reflection. kiara had managed to enhance your natural features without overdoing it, and the soft shimmer on your eyes made them pop. “wow,” you breathed. “you’re amazing.”

kiara grinned. “i know.”

“okay, but real talk,” sarah said, sitting up fully now. “what are you even going to talk about with him? like, do you have a plan?”

“i mean... not really?” you admitted, feeling a fresh wave of nerves. “what if it’s awkward? or he says something that—”

“that pisses you off?” cleo cut in with a smirk. “let’s be real, it’s rafe. he probably will.”

“thanks for the vote of confidence,” you said, rolling your eyes but laughing along with them.

“but seriously,” kie said, her expression softening. “just be yourself. if he’s worth it, he’ll get it.”

“and if he doesn’t,” sarah added, “you have us.”

“exactly,” cleo said, holding up her phone.

despite your nerves, their support made you feel lighter, like no matter what happened, you’d be okay. “i love you guys,” you said, pulling them into a group hug.

“love you too,” sarah said, squeezing you tightly.

“now, let’s talk about what you’re wearing because if you show up looking like this,” she gestured at your comfy-but-basic jeans and sweater, “he’s going to think you’re not even trying.”

“do we care what he thinks?” cleo quipped, raising an eyebrow.

“no,” you said quickly, then paused. “i mean… maybe a little? i just don’t want him to think i’m trying too hard.”

“guys are dumb, especially rafe” sarah said matter-of-factly. “if you showed up in pajamas, he’d probably still think you looked great.”

kiara snorted. “not rafe. he’d have an opinion, trust me,” she said before handing you a dark purple-ish dress.

“oh my God, can we please not overanalyze this?” you groaned, changing into your new outfit, before flopping down on the bed again. “i’m already freaking out enough as it is.”

“relax,” cleo said, pulling you up by your hands. “you’ve got this. and if he’s a jerk? like i said—one call. we’ll swoop in like the badasses we are.”

“maybe with baseball bats,” kiara added with a mischievous grin.

sarah rolled her eyes but gave a small smile, “okay, let’s not go that far.”

you couldn’t help but laugh, their banter easing some of the tension in your chest.

“just… don’t let him get in your head, okay? if he’s a jerk, you walk away. no second chances,” sarah said, her expression softening.

“got it,” you took a deep breath and stood up, smoothing your hands over your new outfit. “okay, how do i look?”

“like a princess,” kie said.

“like you’re about to ruin his life in the best way,” cleo added with a wink.

“and like my brother doesn’t deserve you,” sarah muttered, though there was a small smile on her face.

you laughed, shaking your head. “alright, i’m going, he just texted. pray for me.”

“we’re doing more than that, sweetheart” cleo called as you headed for the door. “we’re on standby!”

“now go knock him off that high horse of his,” kie said with a grin, pushing you softly out the door.

“and remember,” sarah called after you, “if he messes this up, he’ll have to deal with us.”

“but mostly with cleo,” kiara smiled as cleo nodded in agreement.

you laughed as you stepped out into the evening, toward rafe’s car, their voices and laughter ringing in your ears. whatever happened, you knew you weren’t going into this alone.

the cool evening air nipped at your skin as you stepped outside, your nerves tingling with every step you took toward rafe’s car. his black SUV was parked right in front of kiara’s house, its sleek lines glowing under the dim porch light. it was so typical rafe—imposing, polished, and just a little intimidating.

behind you, you could hear the faint buzz of your friends through the open window, their laughter and whispered encouragements floating into the night. kiara had insisted on walking you out, but you’d waved her off, knowing they’d all be watching anyway.

“deep breaths,” you murmured to yourself, clutching the strap of your bag like a lifeline. your heels clicked softly against the pavement as you closed the distance, every step feeling heavier than the last.

rafe was leaning against the hood of his car, arms crossed, the sharp line of his jaw illuminated by the glow of the streetlamp. he looked up when he saw you, his expression unreadable at first, but then his lips curved into a lopsided smile—the kind that made your heart skip and your stomach twist in ways you weren’t sure you liked.

“hey,” he said, straightening up as you approached. his voice was casual, but there was something in the way his eyes lingered on you, taking in your outfit, the soft sweep of kiara’s handiwork with your makeup. it made your cheeks warm despite the chill in the air.

“hi,” you managed, your voice steadier than you expected.

“you look…” he paused, his smile softening. “beautiful.”

a flicker of warmth spread through you, but you fought to keep your voice steady. “thank you. you don’t look too bad yourself.”

his eyebrows raised a little, clearly not expecting the response. “oh, really?” he teased, looking you over. “guess i cleaned up nice then.”

you couldn’t help but roll your eyes, but there was no hiding the small smile on your face. “i wouldn’t go that far, but yeah. you’re alright.”

rafe chuckled, the sound low and almost unbothered, and you were both quiet for a second as he opened the passenger door for you. his movements smooth and effortless, but there was a flicker of something in his eyes—maybe nerves? it was hard to tell.

you slid into the seat, trying not to feel too much like you were stepping into the unknown.

as you slid into the seat, you stole one last glance back at kiara’s house. the curtains shifted slightly, and you caught a flash of cleo’s grin and sarah’s wave before they ducked out of sight.

he shut the door behind you, walked around to the driver’s side, and slid in. the car filled with the faint scent of his cologne—clean and woodsy, with just a hint of something sharper. the car hummed to life, and he glanced at you, that same smirk still tugging at his lips. “ready?”

not really, you thought, but instead, you nodded, a small smile tugging at your lips. “yeah. let’s go.”

as the car rumbled to life and pulled away from kie’s house, you couldn’t help but feel like you were stepping into something you weren’t entirely prepared for. but then rafe glanced over at you, his smile genuine and a little unsure, and for a moment, the nerves didn’t feel quite so heavy.

the restaurant he picked was a small, tucked-away spot near the marina, its charm lying in its casual atmosphere. fairy lights were strung up around the outdoor patio, casting a warm glow over the mismatched wooden tables and chairs. the salty breeze from the ocean added to the laid-back vibe, and you were pleasantly surprised.

“so,” rafe said, leaning back in his chair with that easy confidence, a smirk playing on his lips. “be honest. how much convincing did sarah and your friends need, to let you come out with me tonight?”

you laughed, picking up your water glass. “what makes you think they tried to stop me?”

“oh, come on,” he said, leaning forward now, resting his arms on the table. “sarah’s been side-eyeing me since we were kids, and kie? she probably has a whole powerpoint on why i’m a bad idea.”

you almost choked on your wine at the mention of kiara and a powerpoint. “okay, that’s fair. there might’ve been a… brief conversation.”

“i knew it,” he said, grinning triumphantly. “wait, let me guess. sarah told you to be careful, kie offered to bail you out if things went south, because cleo—”

“threatened violence,” you finished for him, unable to stop smiling.

he laughed, shaking his head.

the air between you shifted slightly, the playful mood dipping into something more serious. but before it could get too heavy, you decided to lighten things up. “alright, mr. cameron, let’s test how much you actually care about the important stuff.”

“oh, this should be good,” he said, his grin returning. “hit me.”

“pineapple on pizza—yes or no?”

he groaned, dramatically throwing his head back. “no. absolutely not.”

“oh, thank God,” you said, relieved. “finally, someone with sense. pineapple does not belong on pizza.”

“right?!” he said, leaning forward, clearly pleased. “it’s disgusting. sweet and savory are not a vibe when it comes to pizza.”

“exactly! fruit has no business being anywhere near melted cheese.”

“see, i knew you had good taste,” he said, grinning like he’d just won something.

“you’re just lucky i agree with you,” you shot back playfully. “if i didn’t, this date might’ve been over already.”

he laughed, the sound warm and unguarded. “guess i dodged a bullet there.”

by the time the food arrived, you were genuinely having fun, the nerves from earlier all but forgotten. and as rafe cracked another joke that had you laughing so hard your sides hurt, you thought, maybe this guy isn’t as bad as everyone says.

after a few more bites of your food and another round of laughter, the conversation naturally fell into a more laid-back rhythm. you were both finishing off your meals, but the mood was light and easy, so you decided to keep the momentum going.

“alright,” rafe said, putting his fork down and leaning back in his chair, a mischievous glint in his eye. “do mcdonald's fries go with the cheese and bacon sauce?”

you didn’t even hesitate. “yes. absolutely. it’s like the best combo in the world.”

rafe stared at you for a beat, clearly surprised. “what? what?”

“it's perfect,” you said, shrugging as if it was the most obvious thing ever. “crispy fries, salty bacon, and that gooey cheese? heaven.”

he leaned forward, narrowing his eyes in disbelief. “you're really saying you dip fries in cheese and bacon sauce?”

you nodded. “yeah. and you should try it.”

he scoffed. “not gonna happen.”

you grinned, knowing you had won that round. “your turn. do you snoop in people’s bathroom cabinets when you're at parties?”

he smirked. “absolutely.”

“what?!” you burst out, laughing.

rafe smirked at your shocked expression, clearly enjoying your reaction to his answer. “what?” he said, leaning back in his chair like he’d just revealed the greatest secret in the world. “you’ve never been curious?”

you raised an eyebrow. “curious about what, exactly? what kind of toothpaste people use?”

“no, no,” he said, shaking his head with a grin. “it’s more about the little details. you know, like... the weird stuff people keep hidden in there.”

he leaned in a little, lowering his voice as if revealing a forbidden truth. “you’d be surprised what you find in bathroom cabinets.”

you were still processing this, trying not to laugh. “so, you’re telling me you’re the type to open random bathroom drawers at parties just to see what people are hiding?”

“not just that,” he said, clearly enjoying the whole thing now. “sometimes you find little oddities—like a first-aid kit with band-aids that look like they’ve never been touched, or a weird collection of shampoos no one’s ever heard of. it’s hilarious. you get a glimpse of what people are about.”

you stared at him, incredulous but amused. “so, it’s less about being nosy and more about... discovering their 'quirks,' huh?”

he grinned and shrugged. “exactly. it’s like a secret peek into their life, their habits. i mean, everyone’s got something they hide away, right?”

“yeah, i guess...” you said, trying not to smile too much. “but... isn’t that a little weird?”

“maybe,” he admitted with a chuckle, “but it’s harmless. it’s not like i’m digging through their underwear drawer.”

you burst out laughing, shaking your head. “thank God for that.”

he raised his hands in mock surrender. “hey, i know my boundaries.” he leaned back, a teasing glint in his eyes. “plus, i’ve got sophisticated taste when it comes to snooping.”

“right,” you said, rolling your eyes. “if ‘sophisticated snooping’ is a thing, you’ve definitely mastered it.”

“oh, i have,” he said with a wink. “but you’re lucky you don’t have a party at your place... you never know what i’d find in your bathroom cabinet.”

“don’t even think about it, cameron,” you said, feigning seriousness but grinning. “i’ll lock it all down if i have to.”

rafe laughed, his eyes sparkling with amusement. “i’ll bring a crowbar next time.”

“please don’t,” you said, shaking your head, already laughing at the absurdity. “i’ve got enough weird stuff in there to last a lifetime.”

“now you’ve piqued my curiosity,” he said, giving you a sly smile.

you leaned back in your chair, raising your hands in surrender. “i’m not telling you anything. you’ll just have to guess what’s in there next time.”

“challenge accepted,” he replied, his grin widening.

“okay,” he raised an eyebrow, clearly intrigued. “do you like romantic comedies?”

your response was immediate. “yes, i love them. they’re fun and lighthearted, okay?”

rafe gave a dramatic gasp. “what? you? seriously?”

“what? yes! i like feel-good movies, alright?”

“romantic comedies are so cheesy,” he said with a smirk. “like, who needs that level of unrealistic, over-the-top, ‘meet-cute’ nonsense in their life?”

“i don’t know, maybe everyone who wants to escape reality for a bit?” you shot back with a playful grin. “i’m not saying it’s life-changing, but it’s fun. plus, who doesn’t want to watch two people fall in love in the most dramatic way possible?”

“okay, okay,” he conceded with a sigh. “i guess i get it… but i’m still not watching one.”

you smirked, leaning back in your chair. “we’ll see about that.”

“fine, your turn again,” he said, crossing his arms like he was ready to take on anything.

“do you believe in ghosts?”

he paused for a moment, clearly thinking it over. “yeah, i think so.”

your eyes widened. “wait, really?”

“yeah. not all the time, but i think there’s something to it.”

you raised an eyebrow. “alright, what kind of ghost person are you? like, the friendly kind or the scary one that haunts your house?”

“more like the ‘your light flickers and you get the chills’ kind,” he said, his tone casual, but there was a spark of seriousness there. “but i don’t get freaked out by it. i kind of find it... intriguing.”

“what?” you exclaimed, laughing. “i’m definitely not inviting you over if there’s a haunted house involved.”

he shrugged with a grin. “you’d be fine. i’d protect you.”

you raised an eyebrow. “i’ll take my chances with the ghost, thanks.”

rafe chuckled, clearly enjoying the back-and-forth. “alright, alright. do you prefer dogs over cats?”

you didn’t even have to think about it. “no. a thousand times, no. cats are elegant, independent, and they don’t beg for your attention every five seconds.”

he leaned back in his chair, pretending to look hurt. “i’ll have you know, dogs are loyal and affectionate. they’d never judge you for anything.”

“cats don’t judge either,” you countered with a grin. “they just… have standards. and honestly? i respect that.”

“standards?” he echoed with a laugh. “is that what you call refusing to acknowledge your existence half the time?”

“they’re selective,” you said defensively, but you could see the smile on his face. “and when they do choose you? it’s special. dogs will love anyone with a pulse.”

“wow,” he said, his smirk growing wider. “you’re really riding for the feline overlords, huh?”

“maybe,” you said with a shrug, still smiling. “but at least they’re not trying to lick my face after eating who-knows-what.”

after a few more rounds of yes/no questions, the laughter and easy conversation continued, and you both found yourself enjoying the unpredictability of the game. by the end of the night, you realized that despite all the teasing and disagreement, there was something nice about getting to know each other in this simple, silly way.

and maybe, just maybe, you were starting to see the appeal of rafe cameron—despite his questionable opinions on romantic comedies and his lack of ghostly fear.

the night had been almost perfect. rafe had paid for dinner without making a big deal of it, his effortless charm making you smile more than you thought you would. as you walked back to his car, you couldn’t help but think that maybe—just maybe—giving him a chance hadn’t been a mistake.

“you can just admit i have better taste,” he teased, shooting you a grin as he unlocked the car.

“you mean i let you win that debate,” you countered, playfully nudging his arm.

he rolled his eyes but grinned. “sure. let’s go with that.”

he opened the passenger door for you, that boyish charm still in full swing. but as you were about to step into the car, a sharp voice from across the parking lot stopped you.

“cameron!” one of the guys called out, loud enough to turn heads. a small group was hanging out near the curb, their laughter ringing out in the cool night air.

you looked up, your heart dropping slightly as they sauntered closer. something about their demeanor screamed trouble.

“yo, rafe! didn’t know you were slumming it these days!” one of them jeered, his voice dripping with mockery.

another chimed in, louder and cruder. “what’s the deal, man? thought you were into classier types. or is this just a one-time thing?”

“man, i didn’t think you still did one-night stands,” the first one said with a smirk, his eyes flicking to you. “guess you’ve still got a type.”

you froze, every muscle in your body tensing. it was like the air had been knocked out of you. did you hear that right?

another guy chimed in, his grin even slimier. “what’s the plan, rafe? dinner, a little sweet talk, and then you drop her off tomorrow like the rest?”

the laughter that followed was harsh and cutting, their words echoing in your mind.

you stood there, frozen, trying to process what they’d just said. did they think you were just some… hookup? was that what this was to rafe?

rafe’s posture immediately shifted—his jaw tightening, his shoulders squaring up like he was ready for a fight. “shut your mouth,” he snapped, his voice cold and sharp.

but you didn’t hear his response. you were too stunned, too humiliated by the way they had spoken about you, like you weren’t even a person. your head was spinning, and your chest ached, the weight of their words settling over you like a heavy blanket.

“hey, don’t walk away!” one of the guys called, laughing. “we’re just messing around. guess she can’t take a joke!”

rafe turned to them, stepping closer with an edge in his tone. “keep talking, and we’ll see how funny it is when you’re picking up your teeth.”

you didn’t catch that either. all you knew was that rafe hadn’t said anything to you. he hadn’t reassured you, hadn’t told them off in a way you could hear. all you felt was exposed and small.

when he turned back to you, you were already standing stiffly by the open passenger door, your arms crossed tightly over your chest.

“oh, come on, girl,” one of them said to you, chuckling. “we’re just messing with you. you don’t have to get so worked up.”

“shut your mouths,” rafe said sharply, stepping forward, his tone low and threatening.

but their laughter didn’t stop.

“get in the car,” rafe said, turning back to you, his voice still tight with anger.

but you couldn’t move. your chest felt heavy, and you realized your hands were trembling as you stared at him. “was that… was that what this was?”

“What was what?” he asked, frowning.

“that,” you said, motioning toward the group of guys still lingering nearby. “and this,” you said, motioning between the two of you. “was this just some… thing to you? just a one-time thing?”

“what? no!” rafe’s eyes widened in shock. “what are you even talking about?”

“what they said—was it true? is that what you do? take girls out, make them feel special, and then just… move on?”

“are you serious right now?” rafe asked, his frustration bubbling to the surface. “i told them to shut up! i told them they were wrong!”

“but you didn’t say anything to me,” you shot back, your voice trembling with anger and hurt. “you didn’t stop to tell me that i wasn’t just some fling. you didn’t even try to—”

“because i didn’t think i had to!” he interrupted, his voice rising. “you should know that’s not what this is!”

“how am i supposed to know that?” you said, your voice cracking. “i barely know you, rafe. and all i know about you is the reputation you’ve worked so hard to earn.”

rafe’s face fell slightly, but he quickly masked it with anger. “you’ve already made up your mind about me, haven’t you? you think i’m just some player who only cares about himself. no matter what i do, that’s all you see.”

“maybe because that’s what everyone says about you!” you shot back, your emotions spilling over now. “and honestly? tonight, it doesn’t feel like they’re wrong.”

rafe stepped back as if you’d slapped him, his jaw tightening. “you think i don’t care about you?”

you shook your head, wiping at your eyes. “i don’t know what to think, rafe. but right now, i just… i feel like i shouldn’t have come here in the first place.”

his expression flickered, a mix of frustration and sadness, but he didn’t say anything.

you pulled out your phone, your hands shaking as you dialed cleo’s number.

she picked up after the second ring, her voice cheerful. “what’s up, sweetheart?”

“can you come get me?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper. “please?”

there was a pause, then a shift in her tone. “where are you?”

you gave her the location, not even looking at rafe as you spoke. when you hung up, you stepped away from the car, wrapping your arms around yourself as you waited.

“are you seriously leaving?” rafe asked, his voice quieter now but still laced with frustration.

you nodded, staring at the ground. “yeah. i think it’s better this way.”

“better for who?” he asked, his voice cracking slightly. “because it sure as hell doesn’t feel better for me.”

you didn’t answer, biting the inside of your cheek. when cleo’s car finally pulled up, you climbed in without looking back, the weight of the night pressing down on you.

the date had started so well—better than you ever thought it could. but now, as you drove away, all you felt was disappointment and the sinking feeling that maybe you’d been wrong to trust him at all.

you arrived at kiara’s house feeling like the weight of the world was pressing on your chest. as soon as you stepped through the door, cleo was there, wrapping you in a hug without saying a word.

“c’mon, sweetheart,” she said softly, rubbing your back. “let’s get you upstairs.”

kiara and sarah were already waiting in kiara’s room, seated cross-legged on the bed, a tub of ice cream and an array of snacks spread out between them.

“oh my gosh,” kiara said, her face scrunching in concern as she looked up at you. “what happened?”

“start from the beginning,” sarah added, sitting up straighter. “you look like you’re about to cry.”

you let cleo guide you to the bed, slipping into the oversized hoodie kiara handed you before collapsing against the pillows. the moment the fabric enveloped you, some of the tension in your shoulders eased, but the knot in your chest remained tight.

“okay,” you began, taking a deep breath. “the date started fine. better than fine, actually. it was… really nice. he was charming, and funny, and it felt like he was actually trying.”

“that’s a good start,” cleo said, sitting beside you and passing over a spoon.

“it was,” you agreed, twisting the spoon in your hands. “but then, when we were walking back to his car, these guys—” you paused, swallowing the lump in your throat. “these guys said the worst things. like, they were making it sound like i was just some one-night stand he picked up.”

kiara’s jaw dropped. “what the hell?”

sarah groaned, dragging a hand down her face. “why does every guy he knows have to be such a douchebag?”

“that’s not even the worst part,” you said, your voice cracking. “rafe told them to shut up, but it didn’t feel like enough. and i—i just felt so…” you trailed off, staring at the tub of ice cream.

“used?” cleo supplied, her tone softer now.

you nodded, blinking back tears. “yeah. and then i asked him if that’s what this was, and we started arguing. he said i was assuming the worst about him, but—” you groaned, burying your face in your hands. “did i overreact?”

“no,” all three of them said in unison, their voices firm.

“not even a little bit,” kiara added, scooping a giant spoonful of ice cream and shoving it into her mouth.

cleo nudged your shoulder. “sweetheart, you have every right to feel the way you feel. those guys were disgusting, and rafe should’ve done more than just tell them to shut up. he should’ve made sure you knew you weren’t some fling to him.”

sarah crossed her arms, frowning. “i know he’s my brother, but like, what the fuck? he knows better than to let people talk about you like that. he should’ve handled it differently.”

you sighed, tugging at the sleeves of the hoodie. “but he did try to defend me. and then i accused him of using me. i mean, what if he was being genuine, and i just completely ruined everything?”

“don’t do that,” kiara said, pointing her spoon at you. “don’t turn this around on yourself. if he really wanted to prove himself, he’d have done more than just argue with you. he’d have made you feel safe.”

“exactly,” cleo agreed. “he knows his reputation, and he knows it’s going to take more than one nice dinner to change it. that’s not your fault.”

“but i feel so stupid,” you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper. “i let my guard down for once, and now i’m sitting here eating ice cream in someone else’s clothes while you guys have to cheer me up.”

kiara grabbed your hand, squeezing it tightly. “first of all, this is exactly what friends are for. second of all, you’re not stupid. you gave someone a chance, and it didn’t go the way you hoped. that doesn’t make you dumb—it makes you human.”

sarah gave you a small smile. “and for what it’s worth, i don’t think he wanted to hurt you. he’s just… rafe. he screws things up, even when he doesn’t mean to.”

“still,” cleo said, cutting in, “he’s a grown man. if he wants to prove he’s more than his reputation, then he needs to act like it.”

you leaned back against the pillows, letting their words sink in. “you guys are the best, you know that?”

kiara grinned. “obviously.”

“now,” cleo said, handing you a tub of different ice cream, “eat up. we’re not letting you mope all night. we’ve got bad movies to watch and worse advice to give.”

you sat on your bed, scrolling aimlessly through your phone. it had been a week since the date, and while life had gone back to normal for the most part, there was still a small ache in your chest whenever you thought about rafe.

you hadn’t talked to him since that night. he hadn’t texted, and you definitely weren’t about to reach out first. it was easier to tell yourself you were over it—easier to pretend the whole thing didn’t sting as much as it did.

the soft ding of your phone pulled you out of your thoughts. it was the group chat with sarah, kiara, and cleo.

as the chat died down, you set your phone aside and stared at the ceiling. you weren’t sure if you were ready to face people—especially since there was a good chance rafe might be there—but a part of you knew your friends were right. you couldn’t stay in this funk forever.

with a sigh, you grabbed your notebook and started sketching out the rest of your day, already bracing yourself for whatever the night might bring.

the next day arrived with an odd mix of excitement and nerves in the air. you were determined to go to the party, even though a small part of you still wasn’t sure what to expect. the last thing you wanted was to feel awkward or run into rafe and spiral again, but your friends had insisted, and honestly, you couldn’t stay cooped up in your room anymore.

you’d spent the afternoon getting yourself together—taking a long, steamy shower to clear your head, eating a light meal to keep your energy up, and now you were just waiting for kiara to arrive.

the doorbell rang, and you jumped off the bed, your heart racing with a mixture of anticipation and nerves. you quickly checked your reflection in the mirror, running a hand through your damp hair one last time. you had cleaned up, but you knew the real fun was about to begin when your best friends worked their magic.

Youyouopened the door to find kiara standing in the hallway, a bag of beauty products slung over her shoulder, her usual confident grin on her face.

“ready to get glam?” she asked, raising an eyebrow playfully.

“glam? i’m just hoping to look halfway decent,” you joked, stepping aside to let her in.

kie didn’t waste any time, immediately heading for the bathroom to set up her stuff. you could already hear her pulling out different hair tools and products.

a few minutes later, cleo arrived, carrying an armful of clothes.

“alright,” cleo said, dropping the clothes onto your bed, “let’s see what we have to work with here.”

“you guys are way too extra,” you laughed, but the excitement bubbling in your chest was hard to hide.

“extra is our middle name, sweetheart” cleo replied, winking as she started going through the clothes.

just as cleo began pulling out options for your outfit, sarah knocked on the doorframe, holding a bottle of perfume.

“okay, i brought backup,” she said, giving you a smirk. “this is my secret weapon—trust me, you’ll smell like the moment.”

“is that the perfume you wore on your first date with john b?” you asked, raising an eyebrow.

sarah’s face lit up a little, a soft blush creeping onto her cheeks. “maybe. but hey, don’t knock it until you try it.”

you rolled your eyes but couldn’t suppress the smile that tugged at the corner of your lips. your friends were everything you needed right now.

kie called from the bathroom, her voice sing-songy. “come sit down, girl! we’ve got work to do!”

you grabbed a water bottle from your desk, taking a quick sip before heading to the bathroom to meet kiara. she already had a chair pulled up in front of the mirror and was holding a blow dryer in one hand, ready to start working her magic.

“let’s make you shine tonight,” kie said, her smile both comforting and determined.

as she started drying your hair and cleo began picking out the perfect outfit, sarah set to work on spritzing a cloud of perfume in the air around you, the sweet scent filling your senses.

it wasn’t long before everything fell into place. your hair was done just right—a little volume, but nothing too over the top but just enough to feel a little extra. cleo had picked out a black dress that hugged you in all the right places, elegant but simple. it had the perfect amount of edge. sarah’s perfume lingered on your skin, subtle yet undeniably there.

when you stepped back in front of the mirror, you almost didn’t recognize yourself. your friends had worked magic, and for the first time in days, you didn’t feel quite so weighed down by everything.

“you look amazing,” cleo said, standing behind you and adjusting the neckline of your dress.

sarah stepped up, fixing a strand of your hair. “totally. you’re going to turn heads tonight, trust me.”

kie grinned and gave you a thumbs-up. “there she is! ready to show up and show out.”

for the first time since you’d agreed to go to this party, a small, genuine smile crept across your face. maybe tonight wasn’t going to be as bad as you’d thought. maybe this was what you needed—just a night to be carefree with your friends.

the car ride to the party was filled with a mix of chatter, laughter, and music, with cleo DJing from the front seat while sarah and kiara were backseat drivers in the most literal sense, throwing in their suggestions for the perfect pre-party playlist.

the streets outside were buzzing, the sound of music and laughter getting louder as you approached Emma L’s house. you could see the cluster of people standing outside, a few familiar faces you hadn’t seen in a while. the flashing lights from the party’s entrance cast colorful streaks across the sidewalk, and the distinct smell of perfume, cigarettes, and cheap beer filled the air.

“alright, here we go,” kiara said, pulling into a spot down the street. “moment of truth. let’s go show ‘em how it’s done.”

you laughed nervously, adjusting the straps of your dress as your friends started piling out of the car. kie was the first one to slam the door behind her, her energy already high. cleo followed right after, pulling her jacket tighter around her, clearly ready for a night of fun. you took a deep breath, glancing out the window before stepping out of the car with sarah trailing behind you.

the moment you stepped onto the sidewalk and made your way toward the front door, it felt like you had crossed into a completely different world. the music thumped louder, the bass reverberating through your chest, and the chatter grew into a chorus of voices from all directions. you were already mentally bracing yourself for the crowd, but as you approached the house, kiara threw her arm around your shoulders.

“don’t even think about it,” she said with a grin. “we’re here to have fun, no stress.”

you smiled back, appreciating her reassurance, even though you felt a little nervous.

when you walked inside, the noise hit you full force. the house was packed, people sprawled across couches, standing in clusters by the snack table, and others dancing in the living room. emma was somewhere in the crowd, greeting people with a glass of something in her hand.

“look at this place,” sarah said, taking in the scene with raised eyebrows. “this is going to be a disaster.”

“you say that like it’s a bad thing,” kiara quipped. “let’s find some drinks and make this night memorable.”

you followed the group toward the back, where the kitchen was set up with an impressive spread of snacks and drinks, and a small cooler sat on the counter. the red solo cups were in abundance, and the air felt heavy with a mix of excitement and anticipation.

the sound of a familiar voice caught your attention, and when you turned to see who it was, your heart dropped a little in your chest.

rafe.

he was leaning against the kitchen island, talking with a few of his friends, a beer in hand. his eyes flicked to you as you entered, and for a brief moment, it felt like everything around you slowed down.

his expression softened when he saw you, and he seemed to hesitate before taking a step toward you, but you quickly turned your attention to the snacks, forcing a smile as your friends continued their conversation.

kiara, who had been watching the interaction, gave you a sidelong glance. “you good?”

you nodded quickly, trying to push the discomfort away. “yeah, yeah, i’m fine. let’s just enjoy the night, right?”

cleo and sarah were already grabbing drinks, taking no time to immerse themselves in the party atmosphere. it was clear they were ready to have fun, but you couldn’t help but feel the weight of rafe’s presence in the room.

as you sipped on your drink, trying to get lost in the chaos of the party, you caught glimpses of rafe a few times. he wasn’t coming over—he wasn’t forcing anything, but it was impossible not to feel like his presence was pulling at your attention, whether you wanted it to or not.

“he’s not the reason we’re here. we’re here to have fun,” kiara said quietly, nudging your shoulder.

you nodded, trying to push your lingering thoughts about rafe to the back of your mind as the music picked up again. you were here with your friends, and tonight was about just letting go. for the first time in a while, you let yourself dance, laugh, and talk with everyone around you. but even in the middle of the crowd, you couldn’t shake the feeling that rafe was still somewhere in the back of your mind.

the bathroom was quiet, the muffled sound of the party a faint thrum in the background. you leaned against the sink, letting out a shaky breath. the conversation with rafe from weeks ago kept replaying in your mind, and guilt gnawed at the edges of your thoughts. maybe you’d been too harsh, too quick to assume the worst.

trying to shake it off, you glanced at the bathroom cabinet. what would he say if he saw this right now? you wondered, a rueful smile tugging at your lips. probably some smug comment about curiosity getting the best of you. the thought made you hesitate, but then, before you could second-guess yourself, you opened one of the drawers.

it was mostly mundane—some hair ties, lotion, a pack of floss—but still, you peeked into the next one, stifling a laugh at how absurd this felt.

“i thought you didn’t snoop in people’s bathrooms.”

the voice was calm, almost casual, but it sent a jolt through you. you whipped around to see rafe leaning against the wall, his arms crossed and his eyes on you, unreadable.

your face burned. “i don’t!” you said too quickly, slamming the drawer shut.

he raised an eyebrow, the corner of his mouth twitching. “really?”

“why are you even in here?” you shot back, trying to recover from your embarrassment, which happend quite quickly with the alcohol flowing through your system.

“i was here first,” he said with a small shrug.

your brow furrowed. “no, you weren’t. i didn’t see you when i came in.”

“yeah, because i was sitting down.”

“what? on the floor?”

“yeah.”

you blinked, utterly baffled. “wait, why?”

“why not?” he replied, as if it were the most normal thing in the world.

your jaw dropped. “you’re just casually sitting on bathroom floors at parties now? what, is that some kind of weird new hobby?”

rafe shrugged again, his expression neutral. “it’s quiet in here. i needed a breather.”

“you’re insane,” you muttered, shaking your head.

“maybe,” he said softly, his tone shifting, his eyes holding yours. “but at least i know who i am.”

the weight of his words lingered in the air, and before you could respond, he sighed. “you know, i’ve been thinking a lot about that night.”

your stomach churned, and your heart sank. “rafe, i—”

he shook his head, cutting you off. “no, let me just say this.” he took a step closer, his voice low but charged with emotion. “do you really think i’m the guy everyone says i am? the selfish, reckless asshole who doesn’t care about anyone but himself?”

your throat tightened, but you couldn’t find the words fast enough.

“because that’s what it feels like,” he continued, his gaze unwavering.

“it feels like you already decided who i am, and you’re just waiting for me to prove you right. like i’m some kind of bad habit you regret getting involved with.”

“rafe, it’s not—”

he let out a dry laugh, his frustration slipping through. “you walked away that night without even giving me a chance to say something. do you know how that felt? watching you leave like you couldn’t stand to be near me anymore?”

your chest ached at the crack in his voice, the vulnerability he was trying so hard to mask. “i didn’t mean to make you feel like that,” you said softly, your voice trembling.

“then why did you?” he asked, his eyes searching yours. “because i’ve tried, okay? i was trying so damn hard to show you that i’m not who they say i am. but it just doesn’t seem to matter. it’s like you were waiting for me to mess up so you can tell yourself you were right all along.”

his words hit you like a punch to the gut, and tears stung your eyes. “i’m sorry,” you whispered.

he shook his head, his voice breaking slightly. “you don’t get it. i wanted to be someone different for you. i wanted to be better, to show you that i’m not just... the guy with the reputation.” he paused, running a hand through his hair. “but maybe that’s all you’ll ever see.”

“no,” you said quickly, stepping forward. “that’s not true. i—”

“then why?” he asked again, quieter this time, his tone almost pleading.

you swallowed hard, guilt weighing heavily on your shoulders. “i was scared, okay? scared that what those guys said was true. scared that i was just some... thing for you to pass the time with. and instead of asking you, i just... i ran.”

he studied you for a long moment, the anger fading from his expression but the hurt still etched deep in his eyes. “you should’ve trusted me,” he said simply.

“i know,” you said, your voice cracking. “i shouldn’t have left like that. i’m so sorry, rafe. i... i want to fix this.”

his lips twitched in a bitter smile. “you’re sure about that? because i don’t know if i can keep trying to prove myself to someone who doesn’t believe in me.”

you looked down at the tiled floor, your chest tightening. “i... i don’t know what to say,” you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper. “i think—i know i messed up.”

rafe didn’t respond right away, his silence stretching long enough to make your heart pound.

“it wasn’t fair,” you continued, glancing up at him, your throat tightening. “the way i left. the way i didn’t even let you explain. i shouldn’t have done that.”

he let out a quiet breath, leaning back against the wall, his expression unreadable. “why did you, then?”

“i don’t know,” you said, shaking your head. “i was upset, when... i heard what those guys said, and it felt like...” You trailed off, biting your lip.

“felt like what?” he pressed, his voice softer now.

“like maybe they were right,” you said finally, the words heavy on your tongue. “like maybe i was just another... another thing for you to pass the time with. and instead of asking you about it, i just...left.”

rafe’s jaw tightened, his gaze fixed on you.

“i guess i thought if i left first, it wouldn’t hurt as much,” you admitted, your voice trembling. “but it did. it hurt anyway.”

he exhaled sharply, running a hand through his hair. “so you thought i’d just—what? use you? like i don’t care about you at all?”

“i didn’t want to think that,” you said quickly, your voice cracking. “but it’s easier to believe what everyone says than to risk getting it wrong, isn’t it?” you looked at him, your eyes stinging. “it wasn’t fair to you, and i’m sorry for that. for not giving you the chance to prove them wrong. for assuming you wouldn’t.”

rafe’s shoulders relaxed just slightly, though his expression was still guarded. “you really think that’s who i am?” he asked, quieter now.

“no,” you said, shaking your head. “not now. but that night... i don’t know. i let myself get scared. i let myself believe the worst because it felt safer than believing in what i don’t know.”

he studied you, his eyes searching yours. “and what do you believe now?”

“i don’t know everything,” you admitted, your heart pounding. “but i don’t want to keep running away. i don’t want to see you as just... this idea people have about you. i want to see you for you. if you’ll let me.”

rafe’s shoulders seemed to drop slightly, and the tension in his face softened. “okay,” he said again, his voice quieter this time, like he was still letting the word settle. he leaned back against the wall, his arms folding loosely across his chest. “i get it, you know. why you felt like that.”

you blinked, caught off guard by the calm in his tone. “you do?”

he nodded, glancing down for a moment before meeting your eyes again. “i mean, look at me. i don’t exactly make it easy for people to see past the reputation, do i? the parties, the fights, the stupid crap i’ve done.” he shrugged lightly, a self-deprecating smile tugging at his lips.

“i’ve given people plenty of reasons to think the worst about me.”

“but that’s not all you are,” you said softly, stepping a little closer.

he gave a small, humorless laugh. “yeah, well, it’s not easy convincing people of that. and after a while... you just stop trying, you know? if they’re gonna think I’m a screw-up no matter what, why not lean into it?”

“that’s not fair to you,” you said, your voice firm.

“maybe not,” he admitted, his gaze steady. “but i get why you’d think i’d... i don’t know. be like that. use you.”

you opened your mouth to protest, but he held up a hand. “i’m not saying it’s true. i’m only saying i get it. i’ve screwed up a lot. and when you’ve heard something about someone enough times, it’s hard not to believe it.”

“i should’ve given you the benefit of the doubt,” you murmured, guilt tugging at you again.

“maybe,” he said, his lips twitching into a faint smirk. “but i didn’t exactly give you a reason to think otherwise, did i? i’m not great at... the whole being a better person thing.”

you smiled despite yourself. “you’re doing better than you think, rafe.”

he raised an eyebrow, clearly skeptical. “oh, yeah? how do you figure?”

“you’re here, aren’t you?” you said, gesturing around the small bathroom. “you could’ve avoided me completely tonight, but you didn’t. and you’re not yelling at me or telling me i’m awful for what i did. you’re listening.”

he tilted his head, considering that for a moment. “huh. guess i am.”

“and for what it’s worth,” you added, your voice soft, “i like the guy who’s sitting on bathroom floors and listening. he’s... kind of sweet.”

rafe chuckled, the sound warm and genuine. “sweet? that’s a new one.”

“don’t let it go to your head,” you teased, a small grin tugging at your lips.

“too late,” he shot back, a playful glint in his eye. “but... thanks.”

there was a pause, the air between you feeling lighter now, softer. he glanced at the cabinet you’d been rifling through and smirked. “so, find anything good in there?”

you rolled your eyes, laughing. “not a chance. this place is boring.”

“figures,” he said, leaning back against the wall, a lopsided grin spreading across his face. “you know, i don’t mind you snooping around, though. makes me feel less like the only weirdo in the world who does that.”

“oh, no,” you said, crossing your arms with a mock-serious expression. “you’re definitely still a weirdo, cameron.”

he laughed, shaking his head. “fair enough.”

as the laughter faded, he looked at you, something softer and more genuine in his gaze. “thanks for... sticking around this time,” he said quietly.

“thanks for letting me,” you replied, your heart fluttering as he gave you a small, crooked smile that felt more real than anything else in the world.

MASTERLIST

CURRENT TAGLIST⋆⭒˚｡⋆

@maybankslover ⟢ @honeyluvsatj ⟢ @zazidot ⟢ @avada-kedavra-bitch-187 ⟢ @lunaleah ⟢ @maybanksangel ⟢ @wtfdudesblog. ⟢ @niktwazny303. ⟢ @outerbanksloverp4l ⟢ @slut4you

#lizzieswrites𝜗𝜚 #lizzies anons/requests𝜗𝜚 #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron #drew starkey x reader #drew starkey #rafe cameron imagine #rafe cameron x you #drew starkey x you

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oikarma · 3 days ago

Text

xoxo, gossip girl

pairing: lando norris x reader

summary: you kind of popped into lando's life out of nowhere-and he loves it. but there's no such thing as being private when you're dating a formula one driver. sorry, did i say dating? i mean when you're friends.

a/n: yay first smau of the year and the second driver i'm writing for! i started watching gossip girl recently n i was inspired

── ⟢ ・⸝⸝

liked by alex_albon and 128,407 others

f1gossipofficial: mclaren's lando norris was spotted out and about in the big apple last night with a mystery girl!

view all 6,353 comments

user1: uh oh magui's going to be mad...

user2: ngl thought that was her at first user3: they got back together AGAIN?? user1: @/user3 someone posted a vid of them partying

user4: alex being messy in the likes LMAOOO

user5: aww did he give her his hoodie in p1

user6: such a gentleman 😍 user7: THATS WHAT I THOUGHT user8: girl be fr he's nothing compared to osc

user9: lando stick to one girl at a time will you

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yourinstagram has added to their stories

replies:

hannahstjohn: i bet you're glad i convinced you to get dinner w me that day 👅

yourinstagram: oh shush i had to sit through two hours of you and liam gazing into each other's eyes. DISGUSTING. hannahstjohn: please. don't act like you even looked at anyone other than him

yourbff: regular dates now i see...

yourinstagram: we're just friends!!

lando: i learned for you 🥺

yourinstagram: liar lando: hello?? yourinstagram: you literally told me the other day you used to do your sister's hair lando: maybe i lied yourinstagram: well you definitely did at some point

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liked by hannahstjohn and 203,991 others

f1gossipofficial: we think it's getting serious with y/n l/n, daughter of NYC-based tech mogul y/d/n l/n, and lando norris. rumor has it that they met through liam lawson and his girlfriend hannah. despite the newly promoted red bull driver lacking friends across the grid, norris is probably grateful for the introduction 😉

y/n and lando were spotted at not one, not two, but SIX different locations across new york in the past week. above is a compilation of photos fans have taken of them dining out, shopping, and even going to the opera together.

view all 10,274 comments

user1: grocery shopping?? do they live together already??

user2: sleazy af if they do user3: maybe they wanted to cook something together its not that deep

user4: what a golddigger...

user5: how is she a gold digger user4: @/user5 did you not see how she dressed for the opera? probably his money she spent on that dress user6: the way people r so illiterate and yet so confident drive me crazy IT LITERALLY SAYS HER DAD IS A TECH MOGUL user7: i don't even know what a mogul is but it sounds rich user8: @/user6 right and if you just googled her dad you'd figure his sister was the one owns the brand she's wearing 💀

user9: the way he looks at her in p1 though

user10: wonder how long they've known each other 🤔

user11: hannah we see you

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lando has added to their stories

replies:

user1: LANDO DID YOU POST ON THE WRONG ACC

oscarpiastri: mate

lando: 🥺 yes osc? oscarpiastri: lily says this is why you've been in NYC for so long lando: idk lily's always right oscarpiastri: you said it was for a brand deal! lando: maybe her dad wants to sponsor mclaren lando: actually forget about that i think he already does 💀 oscarpiastri: i don't like talking to you on instagram text me lando: what if i don't. lando: hello???

mclaren: so cute!

lando: HI ADMIN

maxverstappen: someone's been busy

yourinstagram: what happened to being private 😭 now they definitely think we're dating

lando: sorry i didn't know it was such a bad thing yourinstagram: at least my fake boyfriend is a lot of people's celebrity crush yourinstagram: can't be ruining my image

user2: LANDO ARE YOU STALKING THE #LANDOYN TAG ON TWITTER?? HOW DID YOU FIND THAT??

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liked by scuderiaferrari, redbullracing, and 1,913,500 others

f1: lovely seeing all of you at the o2 ❤️ we hope you enjoyed the livery reveals! one week until pre-season testing begins in bahrain.

view all 253,014 comments

user1: admin you know what you're doing with that pic of lando

user2: missing him and yn *liked by f1 user2: f1 a landoyn stan confirmed?

user3: eh liveries, great articles about max trying to get out of going

user4: alexandra the prettiest wag

user5: yn appearance when 😔 did anyone see how he looked around for her then stopped bcs he remembered she wasn't there

user6: I KNEW I WASN'T CRAZY

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yourinstagram has added to their stories

replies:

lando: did me so dirty with that pic

yourinstagram: shh you look adorable lando: adorable AND pretty? you flatter me yourinstagram: don't get used to it

yourbff: "friends"

yourinstagram: but you're my best friend 😋 yourbff: cause he's more than a friend where is your media literacy

hannahstjohn: I SAW HIM CALLING YOU BACKSTAGE

yourinstagram: so did everyone else it seems hannahstjohn: whoever runs the f1 account loves wag appearances🤷‍♀️

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lando has added to their stories 🔁 yourinstagram's story

replies:

oscarpiastri: are you sure you don't like her

oscarpiastri: sorry i meant are you sure you're not in love with each other lando: you know i think she might fancy me a little oscarpiastri: a little?? lando: im not sure how i feel about her though oscarpiastri: the cameras literally caught you blushing on call lando: ARE YOU SERIOUS oscarpiastri: yeah admin outed you oscarpiastri: they tagged you

user1: posted her on main again aww

yourinstagram: im not even complaining

lando: am i that charming yourinstagram: no i just look great in that photo yourinstagram: y/n l/n, absolute baddie who bagged what's his name norris lando: ☹️ yourinstagram: its okay your fangirls still love you

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liked by oscarpiastri, f1, and 330,217 others

mclaren: lando when y/n calls him (for legal reasons we can't repost that clip until f1 posts it but you know which one we're talking about 🤐)

tagged: lando

view all 57,341 comments

user1: admin you're so brave * liked by mclaren

f1: it's okay we won't rat you out

mclaren: thanks bestie!

user2: oscar crying in the club because his boyfriend is in love with someone else

user3: @/oscarpiastri would you like to comment user4: he's been crying since jan prob

lando: admin i am literally going to hunt you down

oscarpiastri: he follows the landoyn tag on twitter lando: @/oscarpiastri HELLO??? mclaren: he said it not me user5: they're so chaotic

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bahrain

you saw him get out of his car, landing evenly on the ground. you looked at oscar, who gave you a small nudge. "go on, he doesn't know it yet."

"what if he doesn't-"

"then he's a dickhead for leading you on." you liked his bluntness. it was a change from how polite he normally was. and it showed just how strongly he believed it.

you nodded, then strode forward. you could hear the cameras turning, but it didn't matter. lando had taken off his helmet, and his back was to you as he talked to his race engineer.

it was now or never. you gave him a small tap on the shoulder. he whirled around so fast you almost toppled backwards. realizing it was you, his hands shot out and wrapped around your waist. "y/n? oh my god."

you gave him a shy smile, wrapping your arms around him. "told you it was good."

he buried his face in your neck, embracing you so tight you didn't know if he was capable of letting go. eventually, he did.

"so what did you have to tell me?"

you blinked at him slowly. "try to guess."

his eyes widened, as if a hope had come into him. "you won't laugh?"

a shake of your head. "promise."

"then-" he bit his lip, looking down for a minute. "do you like me, like that?"

"what are we, in grade school?" you deadpanned. you saw his heart plummet, then wanted to take back your words. "yes, lando. yes, i came all this way just to see your stupid face. yes, i like you. like that. like i can't get your smile out of my head and i'll stay up until 5 just to watch you hold an award. like i'll respond to you any time, because talking to you is-"

he raised one of his hands ever so slightly so he could pull you closer, so close his lips were on yours and you were cut off mid-sentence. you'd been waiting for this since you'd met him, you realized. since you'd first seen that curly mop of hair at dinner with liam and hannah. since the first time he'd laughed and you realized you'd never heard a prettier sound.

"i like you like that too."

and the cameras caught all that, words and kiss and pictures and all, but it was different. this was something you wanted to remember.

── ⟢ ・⸝⸝

liked by yourinstagram and 1,504,891 others

lando: a great end to pre-season testing, all thanks to my lucky charm 🤍

tagged: yourinstagram

view all 94,102 comments

yourinstagram: me fr -> 🍀

yourinstagram: (get it. FOUR leaf clover) lando: i literally worship the ground you walk on lando: you're the reason i believe in fate yourinstagram: woah slow down there buddy user1: i'm so single its not okay user2: they're basically a married couple already

mclaren: your team in the garage rn like 🧍‍♀️🧍

lando: love you guys too! user3: @/mclaren f1 account alr posted kiss why have you not 😡 mclaren: @/user3 we're carefully selecting the cutest ones

hannahstjohn: lando norris and his "friend"

yourinstagram: IM STUPID OKAY hannahstjohn: can't believe it took you that long

user4: hes so happy 🥹

── ⟢ ・⸝⸝

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#lando norris x reader #f1 x reader #formula one #formula one x reader #f1 smau #lando norris smau #f1 x you #lando norris x you #oikarma ᯓᡣ𐭩

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not-magdi · 3 days ago

Text

-rompers, strollers and so much more / lando norris

Warnings: none just some fluff

Words: 907

Reading Time: 3 min 37 sec

A/N

This could be seen as a part two to the first story but this can also be read as a stand-alone.

Part one (if anyone is interested)

Hope you enjoy reading it !

The golden Monaco sun bathed the cobblestone streets as Y/N and Lando strolled hand in hand toward the boutique baby store. Y/N’s free hand rested instinctively on her growing belly, and she couldn’t help but smile at how real everything was starting to feel. At five months pregnant, her bump was pronounced enough to draw gentle attention from passersby, and she wore it with quiet pride.

Lando gave her hand a gentle squeeze, his other hand occasionally brushing against her belly as though he couldn’t resist making a connection with their little one. “Our first official baby shopping trip,” he said, grinning. “Big day, huh?”

“It really is,” Y/N agreed, her eyes sparkling. “We’re actually buying things for her. It feels so… real now.”

“It does,” Lando replied, his grin widening. “Let’s spoil her a bit, yeah?”

When they stepped into the boutique, the pastel paradise of tiny clothes, plush toys, and elegant strollers greeted them. Y/N’s gaze darted around in awe. “This place is adorable,” she said softly, her eyes catching on a display of baby shoes no bigger than her palm.

“And overwhelming,” Lando added, scanning the room. “Where do we even start?”

Y/N laughed. “How about clothes? That seems like a safe start.”

Lando nodded and followed her to a rack of tiny onesies. He immediately pulled one out and held it up. “Okay, how about this?” he asked, showing her a white onesie with “Daddy’s Little Champion” written in gold script across the front.

Y/N laughed, shaking her head. “You’re already dreaming of her racing career, aren’t you?”

“Well, yeah,” he said, pretending to puff out his chest. Then, turning toward her bump, he crouched slightly and spoke to it. “What do you think, baby girl? You’d look great in this, wouldn’t you? It’s got a winning vibe.”

Y/N chuckled, running a hand through Lando’s curls. “You know she can’t actually answer you, right?”

Lando looked up with a playful pout. “Not yet, but I’m practicing. She’s probably nodding in there.” He kissed Y/N’s belly lightly and straightened. “We’re getting it.”

Y/N shook her head with a smile but let him toss the onesie into their shopping basket.

As they sifted through the racks, Y/N picked up a soft pink romper with tiny bunny ears on the hood. “Lando, look at this. Isn’t it the cutest thing you’ve ever seen?”

Lando reached over to feel the fabric. “That’s soft,” he said, then crouched again to talk to the bump. “What do you think, little one? Wanna be a bunny for Dad and Mum? I think you’d look pretty adorable.”

Y/N placed a hand on her bump, feeling a faint flutter of movement. Her smile widened. “I think she agrees with you.”

“See?” Lando said triumphantly. “She’s got great taste already.”

By the time they moved on from the clothes section, their basket was already brimming with pastel onesies, patterned leggings, and a knitted blanket Y/N couldn’t resist.

In the toy section, Y/N picked up a soft plush giraffe and pressed it to her cheek. “Do you think she’ll like this?”

Lando took it from her, holding it up in front of Y/N’s belly. “What do you think, baby girl? A giraffe for your room? We could name it Gerald. Gerald the Giraffe.” He made the giraffe “walk” along the shelf, pretending it was racing another toy.

“You’re such a child,” Y/N said, though her laughter betrayed how much she loved seeing his playful side.

“Hey, I’m practicing for playtime,” Lando replied, tossing the giraffe into their basket. “You’ll see. She’ll love it.”

When they reached the stroller section, they were met with rows of sleek, high-tech options. “Who knew strollers could be so complicated?” Y/N murmured, reading one of the tags. “This one says it has an all-terrain suspension system. Are we planning on taking her hiking?”

Lando crouched down to inspect the wheels. “You never know. Maybe we’ll need to get her to the track over gravel or something.”

“Of course,” Y/N said with a roll of her eyes, though she couldn’t suppress a smile.

After testing several models—and after Lando insisted on pushing each one in a short lap around the aisle to test its “maneuverability”—they settled on a sleek grey stroller that folded easily and looked modern and practical.

“This is the one,” Lando declared, patting the handle. “What do you think, baby girl? Does it pass the test?” He crouched one last time, resting a hand on Y/N’s belly. “You’ll be cruising around Monaco in style in this bad boy.”

“She’s not even born yet, and you’re already making her sound like a diva,” Y/N teased, though her voice was soft with affection.

“She deserves the best,” Lando said simply, standing and slipping an arm around Y/N’s shoulders.

As they approached the checkout counter, Y/N leaned into Lando, her hand resting on her bump. “This feels so real now,” she said softly. “Like she’s already a part of our lives.”

“She is,” Lando said, pressing a kiss to her temple. “And I can’t wait to meet her. She’s already got me wrapped around her little finger.”

They left the store with bags in hand, their hearts full as they walked down the bustling street. Every tiny onesie, every plush toy, and every little item they had picked out felt like a promise to their baby girl—a promise of love, care, and the beautiful life that was waiting for her.

---------

Don't forget to leave a note if you enjoyed it, feedback is always welcome !❤️

#lando norris x y/n #lando norris oneshot #lando norris x reader #lando norris imagine #lando norris fanfic #formula 1 #lando norris #dad! lando norris #lando norris x pregnant!reader #mclaren f1 #mclaren

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buckysfaveplum · 22 hours ago

Text

her weakness

summary: you’re an enhanced individual with strong abilities and one moral code- you only fight with them when your opponent is also enhanced. during the fight with john walker, that code gets broken when bucky is hurt

pairing: bucky barnes x female reader

word count: 3.5k

warnings: violence, blood, fighting, it’s a fight seen so yea expect things relating to that

a/n: i rewatched tfatws and this fight always makes me so worried for my bbs so yea this was born. I typed it up helllllla quick so I'm sorry if its trash, I'm not too proud of this one idk.

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Your feet followed closely behind Bucky as you approached the warehouse. Your limbs were stiff and your skin clammy. Your hand stayed firmly in Bucky’s grasp as you approached John Walker. Sam had tracked him to a storage warehouse near the square you had just witnessed brutality in.

He murdered him, in cold blood, with Steve’s shield. You couldn’t get the screams of the public out of your head, the sound of the vibranium as it slashed into the flagsmasher’s body. You would’ve thrown up if Bucky hadn’t pushed you behind him. You had seen much worse, much more gruesome violence in your line of work. But something about this was sickening, rotting away in your stomach as you tried to grapple with the truth that the shield your friend once carried with honor and pride was just used by an unhinged soldier who found joy in the worst parts of the job.

Bucky stayed ahead of you, following Sam as they entered the building. Your hand trembled in his vibranium grasp. His thumb gently brushed across the veins and bones of your hand, trying to bring you comfort before the scene he knew was about to play out.

As you walked into the large space, you saw him. He was too composed and stoic for what had just taken place. His tall and slender figure loomed as he casually walked up to you all, barely acknowledging Sam as he tried to get him to listen.

“Walker,” Sam started. The soldier brushed Sam’s stern tone off, hopefully delaying what he knew was coming.

“You guys should see a medic, you don’t look so good,” He said, walking past you.

“Stop, Walker,” Sam took a few steps closer, trying again to get him to focus.

Your jaw tightened as you watched the man pace erratically in front of you. He was muttering quietly before responding as if trying to convince himself what he was saying had any truth.

“What?” He asked, coming closer. “You saw what happened. You know what I had to do.”

Your grip on Bucky tightened, sensing Walker’s anger began to boil over. You knew a fight was coming, it always was.

“I killed him because I had to! He killed Lemar!” Walker shouted, his arms waving now and revealing how off the deep end he had gone.

You knew the moment you saw him in that fight. He stole the serum and took it for himself. This behavior just confirmed it. But the serum only enhanced what was already bubbling under the surface. The same John you meet on the highway. The same John who waltzed into the police station as if he had the authority or right to control Bucky and call him an ‘asset’. It was always there.

“He didn’t kill Lemar, John.”

Bucky’s smooth and deep voice cut through the tension in the room. You felt his grip on your hand squeeze for a moment, making sure you were okay. He could always sense your anxiety in the field. Your powers made keeping your calm difficult. You would never use them in battle unless your opponent was enhanced as well. You were a skilled fighter and agent, you didn’t need them. And it didn’t always seem ethical. But keeping them at bay, in check, could prove difficult- especially in heightened situations such as this.

Walker scoffed at Bucky’s words, dismissing the truth like it was nothing.

“Don’t go down that road. Believe me, it doesn’t end well,” Bucky said.

“I’m not like you!” Walker’s voice was full of disgust and resentment. From the moment you met him, you could sense his quiet disdain for your best friend. Looking down his nose at him like he was some scum left over from Steve's life, something he’d always have to deal with. Yet at the same time, resentment. Jealousy over his power, control, and abilities in his enhanced body. As if that’s what made him an excellent fighter. Or a good person.

Your spare hand moved between Bucky’s shoulder blades, giving him a subtle and quiet support as you prepared.

“Listen, it was the heat of the battle, okay?” Sam said, taking a step closer to Walker. That shield danced in your vision, taunting you as he paced back and forth. “If you explain what happened, they may consider your record.”

Walker’s distress spread across his face, his brows furrowing and eyes scrunching as he tussled with Sam’s words.

“We don’t want anyone else to get hurt,” Sam said.

The warehouse went silent as Walker stared at the ground before him. Bucky gave you a soft, tight-lipped smile before begrudgingly dropping your hand. He slowly took a step towards the man, joining Sam.

“John…” Bucky said, calmly.

“You gotta give me the shield, man,” Sam said.

That did it. You could feel the room shift that second.

A disturbing serene aura washed over Walker at that moment. Slowly, he lifted his gaze to you all. His eyes were dark, lacking a certain warmth and compassion you had grown so used to seeing through that blue cowl. A certain warmth that left when he hung up the shield.

“Oh…. so that’s what this is,” Walker said. “You almost got me.”

You could see his grip on the shield tighten, the leather straps twisting between his fingers.

“You made a mistake,” Sam said.

You slowly took a step forward, your hands flexing as you prepared for what was to come. Walker finally turned his gaze to you. His eyes roamed you up and down. You could’ve sworn you saw Bucky’s jaw clench, that familiar muscle tightening in distress. Walker smirked at you before glancing at Bucky. He could read the protectiveness radiating off of your supersoldier.

“You don’t wanna do this,” Walker said to him.

Bucky didn’t meet his gaze. His fists balled at his side, practically shaking with anger. He never took pleasure in a fight, every punch or kick felt like a necessity rather than enjoyment. But he couldn’t deny how much he desired to rip that shield from his grimy hands.

“Yeah we do,” Bucky said.

Sam lurched forward first, Bucky soon following suit. Your feet moved quickly, moving behind Walker as your friends attacked from the front. The man moved with a speed you had yet to see from him, a brute force you could only get from the serum.

With a harsh kick, Walker sent Sam flying away, leaving you and Bucky alone. You tried to knock Walker down from the back as Bucky grappled with the shield. As you sent a harsh kick into the back of Walker’s knees, he spun quickly and sent a jab into Bucky’s gut sending him backward in pain and knocking him off balance. Before you could back him up, Walker slammed a harsh punch into Bucky’s jaw. Your heart raced and your hands shook as you watched him drop to the ground. You sprung into action, pulling the shield back in your hands and keeping Walker from smashing it into Bucky’s face. Sam leaped in, kicking the shield up and drawing attention to him.

You slammed a kick into Walker’s back, sending him stumbling forward as Sam slashed at him with his wings. Bucky leaped up, his arm aiming to come down on the faux Captain America’s back hard but was ultimately blocked by the shield.

You were growing frustrated. Walker never packed this much of a punch. The serum raged through his veins, lacing each kick and swing of the shield with force and hate. As you and Sam continued to trade blocks at Walker, Bucky attempted to pull him down but was quickly met with the shield swinging into the side of his face. Your legs shook. The longer this dragged out the more difficult you find keeping your emotions in check. The longer you watched your favorite person in the world become decorated with blood and bruises, the more your ethical code began to look like a suggestion. Walker deserved a swift blast to the face and more. But you held off.

Walker slammed the shield into Sam’s back, sending him down. As your two friends recovered briefly, it was just you and him. You surged forward at the man, dodging as he swung at you. Being smaller than the two Avengers alongside you made it much easier to evade Walker’s sloppy attacks. You sent a firm kick into his chest followed by an uppercut into his chin. As he spun and tumbled, Bucky was back on his feet and meeting Walker with punches. Bucky’s attacks quickly led the pair into a tight spot, backing Walker up into a heavy piece of machinery. The pair spun in circles over the shield, yanking the vibranium disc back and forth and trading beatings in between. Sam quickly followed you over, diving in for aid, but quickly was sent flying back by Walker’s attacks. His body slammed to the ground with a grunt.

While Bucky worked, you glanced at Sam. He pushed himself to his feet slowly, preparing to dive back into the fight. In your moment of distraction, the fear and care for your dear friend overriding your common sense to keep fighting, you heard Walker’s voice pull you back. Bucky was trapped between the shield and a machine. You rushed over to help but it was far too late.

“Why are you making me do this?!” Before you could register what Walker was saying, you watched as Bucky went flying.

Walker’s forceful swing of the shield sent him hurtling across the warehouse. Your body froze as if someone had filled your veins with cement. The dramatic scene Walker had created came to an end with Bucky’s body smashing into an electrified pole and crashing to the ground. The might of his impact snapped the pole in the middle, sparks cascaded from the steel and flooded onto the floors; leading your eyes to Bucky.

“Bucky!” You screamed.

His body lay limp and splayed out on the cold dirty floors. His face was smushed into the cement. His limbs didn’t dare to move. Except for his vibranium arm, which twitched and spasmed under his body; blue and white sparks burst out from the plates adding to the horror.

Your breaths were heavy and shaky, your hands trembled at your sides as the vibrating blue of your powers began to spark at your fingertips; mirroring the sight of your best friend’s arm. The room was spinning, at least that’s what made sense to you. Your balance was unstable, your knees threatening to buckle at any moment. You turned to spare a look at Sam, begging him for permission. But he was already back on his feet and rushing towards Walker.

“Go!” He shouted.

You had never been faster. Your abilities never gave you the gift of flight but in that moment they very well could have. Your legs became weak and your steps messy as you neared Bucky. You crashed to your knees beside him, pain radiated up your thighs from the impact but you couldn’t care. It couldn’t be worse than the expanding tight pain in your chest as you struggled to breathe.

Your hands quivered as they hovered over his body. With him lying so still you could finally take in the damage Walker had done to his face. Blood was splattered all over, deep purple and blue hues bloomed across his cheekbones, and a nasty split had opened on his lip. Worst of all, his nose was broken.

The sparks continued to burst from the plates of his arm, his hand jerking and spasming with an unsettling sound of grinding metal. Quickly, you placed your hands firmly on the vibranium. A deep blue beamed from under your palms, cascading the metallic golds and blacks of his arm in your glow. The excess electricity from the crash moved in waves through the arm up into your hands. You focused as all the veins in your body became electrified, an aqua glow shone through your skin as the energy you. Your once y/e/c eyes were quickly overtaken, the cool energy overriding your iris’ and leaving an intense indigo shine. With a sharp gasp and breath, you let go. His arm had stopped moving, now lying as still and motionless as he did.

“Bucky,” you said, giving his damaged body a soft shake. “Bucky, wake up.”

He didn’t move, his face slack and limps heavy as you struggled to turn him to his back and off of his arm. Your hands rushed to his face, cupping his cheeks and holding him close as if you could shield him from more of John Walker’s savagery. If someone had the power to take your abilities and trade them for the ability to heal, you’d offer them anything they wished just for the potential to spare Bucky from his pain even for a moment.

“Buck… come on wake up,” the fresh blood from his injuries spilled into your fingertips, the crimson caked into your cuticles and threatened not to leave.

“Plum, please,” His body twitched; your lungs finally filled with air.

His breaths were labored but there, his chest rattled as he sucked in much-needed air. Your fingers moved to his neck, their shuddering finally stilling as you felt his pulse return to a firm and strong pattern.

The sounds of Sam’s grunts and Walker’s cries swiftly pulled your attention back to your friend. He was up in the air, a long metal cord pulling on the shield and attempting to free it from Walker’s venomous grasp. To no avail, as soon Sam was flung back to the floor and across the room. The shield clattered to the ground, equally laid between the two men. The smug and determined look on Walker’s face enraged you, the blue glow returning to your eyes. Sam glanced over at you before rushing for the shield. He needed you.

You turned back to Bucky, still unresponsive to your touches and voice. He was breathing, his pulse steady. Taking in the broken state of his body, his face battered and bloodied, you couldn’t hold back your rage any longer.

It was as if something had possessed you. Gently, you laid Bucky back to the ground, pressing a trembling kiss to his forehead.

“I’ll be right back,” you said, your voice monotone yet determined. The expressions of concern, fear, and horror that had played upon your face just moments ago were now gone. You were cold and still, as you rose to your feet and walked over to the two men fighting behind you.

Before Walker could grab the shield, a harsh blast of blue energy sent him flying back in the opposite direction. The man was studded, confused by how he could have been knocked down. He looked up to see you rushing towards him. You were steady in your movement, not running but with each step winding up for the next blow. Your hands were baked in a fierce glow of aqua as you channeled more energy through your fingertips.

Walker scrambled to his feet, preparing for the offense. Before he could even take a step he was back on the ground with another blast from you. A loud cry fell from your lips as you slammed him down with force from your power. As you ran up to Walker, he quickly sent a firm hit to your jaw. You stumbled back, regaining your vision to see him coming at you. You jumped up, knees to your chest and feet pressing on his as you blasted him once again.

He was on the ground with you towering over him. His face was coated in shades of black and blue, mirroring the face you were trembling over just seconds ago. Good, he deserved that and more.

You blasted him again as he struggled to crawl away. You followed him, hot on his trail as energy overflowed from your hands. The shield was long forgotten by you, only driven by your need for revenge. Bucky couldn’t even answer you, couldn’t move. He needed to pay.

Walker’s body slammed back into machinery as you surged more energy at him. He

was done, hands shaking above him as he prepared for your next blow.

“We’re better than this right? Captain America doesn’t do this,” Walker said through his split lip and shaking jaw.

You scoffed; if only he had thought that way an hour ago. You wouldn’t be here. Bucky would be okay.

“Good thing I’m not Captain America,” you said. Walker shielded his face as you wound up your aim. Energy radiated from your fist up your forearm as you pulled it back to deliver one last shot.

“Y/n, stop!” Sam shouted.

Your blast was halted by a firm hand on your upper arm. You recognized the stillness and coolness that held onto your body. Turning you saw Bucky behind you. He was shaking as he stood, breaths labored and heavy, but there he was. Sam ran up behind the two of you, shield in hand as he looked at you. But all you could focus on was Bucky.

Bucky stepped forward, shaking his head softly as he lowered your arm.

“This isn’t you, you don’t do this,” he said. Your nostrils flared as you breathed heavily, struggling to reel your rage back in. You glanced back at Walker who lay on the ground, glaring at you smugly. Your eyes shone brighter, your fists clenching as the glow intensified.

“Hey,” Bucky said, taking your face and turning you to look back at him. “You’re not him.”

The energy overtaking your body began to fade as you relaxed under his firm touch. The uncontrollable blue glow began to fade back into your body, leaving you panting as you tried to calm your emotions. Bucky stood before you, vibranium hand stroking your own.

“You’re okay,” you said.

“I’m okay. Hey, hey, I’m okay. It’s over,” he said, pulling you away from the scene you had created. He walked you slowly back towards Sam, you shook in his grasp. Walker struggled to stand as he watched the three of you leave. The shield taunted him as it hung off of Sam’s arm, finally back with its true owner. The Captain America.

“I’m sorry,” you said, looking at Sam. “I just….” you glanced at Bucky, once again seeing the battering of his beautiful face. Your throat swelled as you lost your words, choking on your fear.

“We got it back,” Sam said, giving your shoulder a firm squeeze before heading out of the building. His limp as he walked didn’t escape you.

Bucky gripped your hand tightly, pulling you with him as he walked. He didn’t make it far before his knees began to buckle, his body slipping as he fell. You were at his side in a heartbeat, arm hauling him back up beside you; refusing to let his body crash to the filthy ground again.

“Hey, hold onto me,” you said. You wrapped his arm around your shoulder and his other gripped at your waist as you began to pull him from the warehouse, his feet limping and tripping as he struggled to walk. Walker’s body began to fade in the distance as you left.

“Why did you do that, doll?” Bucky asked as you walked, his voice slurred and low. Each wince and suck of breath stabbed at your side like a pecking bird, refusing to let your wound heal.

“I don’t know, I’ve never done that. I….” you paused, stopping your feet as you gave him a moment to catch his breath. “When I saw you hit that pole, I lost it.”

“I’m okay, Y/n,” he said, yet his words seemed to hold no weight as he struggled to stay upright at your side.

“Your arm was sparking, Bucky. You weren’t moving. I-I thought that you…” You couldn’t finish, gripping him tighter as your voice shook. As if letting him go would give the world a chance to tear him from you once again. Your fingertips dug into his tact suit, determined to embed yourself in him.

“Hey, babydoll,” he said, hoisting himself up just enough to take your face in his hands. He swayed on his feet as he stood, intent on holding you close as he spoke. Your hands held him steady at his side.

“I’m here, I’ll always be here. But no matter what happens to me, I don’t want you to lose yourself,” he said, stroking your cheek. “I can’t have that.”

“I don’t wanna lose you,” you said.

“You won’t. I’m right here, I’m always coming back to you.”

You nodded softly as you rested your head on his chest. His hands moved to your hair as he held you close. Your hands wound around his center, keeping him safe in your arms. As long as you were around, no one would take him.

“You’re so good, you’re so special, Y/n. You need to be strong, even if I get hurt. You can’t drop your morals for me. They mean too much to you,” he said.

“I think you may be my weakness,” you said, your voice muffled in his chest. He tucked himself closer into you at your words, his head resting upon yours. His lips pressed a soft kiss to the side of your head.

“You’ve always been mine,” he said softly.

---

taglist:

(comment to join <3)

#bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes #bucky barnes angst #bucky barnes fluff #fanfic #tfatws #marvel #fanfiction

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kushinadragneel · 3 days ago

Text

Sylus brainrot bcs I cannot stop it so

Dad! Sylus, dragon! Sylus (blame my friend and our rp, I adore them), king Sylus actually, twins (I love how the whole fandom seems to agree on that), headcanons, short

Genres: fluff, kind of hurt/comfort with a lil bit of angst/sad, very indulgent, might be a bit ooc, admittedly very influenced by my oc as the thoughts swirled with her in mind

Mentions: pregnancy, female anatomy, motherhood, post partum, insecurities, lactation (not the kinky kind)

Dragons were peculiar beings, you've found out as quite the only human in this weird, entirely draconic kingdom. Though, so to speak, you were the weird one here, lacking horns, scales, a tail…

To say you've had many to learn was an understatement. From heats to mating to their habits, everything had been new.

But there you were, mated to their very king and very much pregnant sooner than quite expected to Sylus's delight.

So here's how your pregnancy goes:

Sylus discovered you were pregnant before you even thought of it. He said your scent got sweeter

You were put on rest instantly. Wrapped in furs that deeply smelled of the both of you, with the finest of silk as clothes and constantly doted on

His habit of scenting you? Got even worse. He's constantly glued to your side. Claims he can't help it, it's in his very instinct to protect you.

He was constantly piling up food on your plate

One child was a blessing. Hearing two heartbeats? Unheard of. Unprecedented

He was glued constantly to your tummy so he heard them. He denies crying to this point, but his eyes had been watery

Carries you whenever for his own pleasure. Your feet have barely met the ground, even as you got fuller and heavier

Massages you when he feels you being restless or tired

Constantly caresses your tummy and talks to the babies

Guilty of taking naps with you, curled around you protectively

Also guilty about stirring the twins with his nips, licks and caresses (got decked one too many times by his babies)

You and him bickered on who the kids will resemble (they ended up mini carbon copies of him)

Dragons do start being more welcoming to you and you slowly start feeling included in the community you're very emotional about it

"One carries a child for 9 months and they end up looking like their father!" one of the dragons playfully complained, pretty much in a similar situation to you. "Doesn't it ever bother you?" she asked curiously

No, it doesn't. Sylus is the favorite parents and the twins have your temper. Bless his patience

Talking of patience, he's had plenty of it with you. Especially as you were pretty much glued to his side and snappy to everyone else your instincts craved your mate pretty heavily during the pregnancy. And after

Talking of after

The first two weeks had been so hectic you were more in and out of sleep, barely remembering anything

Sylus is the light sleeper between the two of you. Surprisingly attuned to the kids, considering they barely start squirming and he's already picking them up

He's constantly scenting them. Playing with them. Is a natural at holding them in the weirdest positions while they babble and laugh

Very protective and possessive of them. Nobody but you and the doctors are allowed to touch his precious treasures (even the doctors are constantly under his scrutinizing gaze)

He does so much it's quite making you feel bad. Especially as the twins seem to favor him right out the womb and seem to need you just for feeding

It's been two weeks and you barely even remember anything. It crushes your soul, especially as one of the babies starts getting fuzzy and he is again the one reaching out for them, soothing the precious chubby cub between his arms.

It makes you sniffle and you have quite the breakdown about not being a good enough mom, crying about how he's doing everything and you barely feel like you've done anything.

He soothes you by holding you closely and nuzzling your hair. "You deserve to rest. You're doing more than enough. Let yourself heal"

You get worried about how much time he actually spends glued to your side, simply because it feels like he's ignoring his duties as a king because of you

He does explain to you that dragons do understand and nobody would be insane enough to expect him to not be by your side constantly at first

Tender moments

He always makes sure to have a regular bath prepared for you and is keen on washing your hair

He truly is a fiend. A kiss stealing fiend

His hands are so gentle over your body, massaging oils and kissing every inch of you. God forbid you ever feel less than wanted, he would snap someone's neck

He's still a flirt with you, just softer

He's actually more worried than you, he just doesn't let it on

He has to stop himself from growling whenever his kids stumble or cry at anything they find scary

The twins are menaces. He spoils them too much

He plays fight with them in the way wolves and lions do. He fakes being tackled to the ground and everything. Barely has the heart to scold them when they nip a bit too seriously at his skin

Though, he does have the heart to scold them when they try the same with you. He's very stern about your safety

#lads sylus x reader #lads x reader #lads #lads sylus #lads x you #lads x y/n #sylus #dad sylus #sylus x reader #sylus x you #love and deepspace sylus #lnds sylus #l&ds sylus #dragon sylus #king Sylus #why isn't that a tag

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nanenna · 2 days ago

Text

Danny opened his front door to find his two best friends on the other side, both with overnight bags. “Hey, sleepover!” Danny greeted happily.

“Sleepover!” Sam and Tucker agreed as Danny ushered them in. He'd just finished gathering all the supplies for a blanket fort, his old PS4 already set up and waiting for them to pick a game.

“I've already got pizzas on the way,” Sam said as she dropped her bag next to the couch, its cushions in a pile on the floor.

“Did your parents say where they were going? This weekend trip seems pretty sudden.” Tucker set his bag down next to Sam's.

“Not really,” Danny replied, already back to setting up the blanket fort. “It was pretty sudden though, usually they give more than a day's warning. Just ‘Bye Danny, have a good weekend’ and hopped in the GAV.”

“Probably some conference they just learned about,” Sam said with an eye roll.

“I dunno, they actually keep pretty on top of those, usually can't shut up about them in the weeks leading up.”

“Someone spotted Mothman over by Lake Eerie,” Tucker said with a sage nod.

Sam and Danny snickered at the suggestion. It didn't take long to finish setting up the blanket fort, the pizza and soda arriving not long after. They all changed into comfy clothes and laid out on the pile of blankets Danny had raided the linen closet and everyone's beds for.

It was later in the evening before Tucker brought it up again. “What's the GAV doing in Jersey?”

“Jersey?” Danny asked with a wrinkled nose. “Oh no!”

“Oh no what?” Sam asked absently, lining up a headshot

“What part of Jersey?” Danny dropped his controller and leaned over to look at Tucker's tablet.

“Looks like… Metropolis?”

“Shit, they're in Gotham!” Danny got up and went running off. He came back with a pair of shoes he was hurriedly trying to put on while hopping around on one foot.

“What's in Gotham?” Sam asked, “And why didn't they bring me?”

“The dead Robin!” Danny finally managed to get a shoe on, but the other had vanished somewhere along the way.

“What?” Both his friends asked in clear confusion.

“You know how weird they've been about me being a ghost? Oh, there it is! Anyway, they got some kind of ghost marriage ceremony inspo and when they asked me who I wanted to marry I sarcastically said the dead Robin.”

Sam started laughing.

“This isn't funny! They're probably chasing down Batman right now to ask him to marry me to his dead son.”

“Shit,” Sam murmured, suddenly not laughing.

“Yeah,” Tucker agreed.

“So I gotta go bring them home before they torpedo any hope I have of joining the Justice League!”

“I still don't see why you're so hung up on them,” Sam said dismissively.

“How else am I gonna get into space?” Danny asked. “Anyway, I'm off!” He transformed and leapt out of the house, racing for New Jersey.

✨️🌟✨️

It took a while to get to Gotham, find the GAV with his tracking app, and then find where his parents were because they weren't in the GAV. They were on a rooftop nearby. Having a showdown with a very tense looking Batman.

Fortunately there was a fire escape with a ladder up to the roof. Danny dropped onto it, transformed, and just lifted up to right under the roof's edge. He poked his head up and yelled, “Mom! Dad!”

They both looked over and smiled, waving. “Danny, we didn't expect to see you here.”

“Danno look! We found this Batman guy!”

Danny hauled himself up onto the roof and ran over to his parents. “Oh my god, I can't believe you two!” He grabbed their hands and started dragging them away from the vigilante. “I was being sarcastic, stop embarrassing me in front of one of the founding members of the Justice League!”

“Aw, Danny! There's nothing embarrassing about love!”

“I'm not in love, I've never even met the guy!”

“Your mother's right, why look at us, son!”

“Still not in love! And even if I were, I'm sixteen! That's way too young to get married!” They were almost to the edge of the roof now, thankfully his parents weren't really resisting his incessant pulling.

“But Danno,” Jack started to say.

“I'm not even done with high school yet! I'd rather focus on that right now.”

“Danny, is finishing high school your lingering attachment?” Maddie seemed touched, cooing over her baby boy.

“Yeah, sure, my tanked grades caused sooooo much unrest. Can we just go home now?”

“Sure, Danny. We can help you with your homework and everything.”

Danny gave a sigh of relief as his parents started down the ladder on their own. They would probably hyperfixate on his grades a little too much, but so long as he passes Danny really doesn't care. He turned and waved at Batman, “Sorry my parents bothered you, they can be a bit dense sometimes.” Then he hopped down to the fire escape and started herding his parents down, resigned to spending the next while stuck in the GAV with them to make sure they actually went home.

✨️🌟✨️

The comms exploded with chatter the moment the teenager disappeared over the roof.

“Wow, Hood, your future husband sure has spunk!”

“I like him already, we should go welcome him into the family.”

“Fuck off, I'm not dating a high schooler!”

“New brother-in-law.”

“Hood and Danny, sitting in a tree!🎶”

“I approve of your betrothed. Just keep your displays of obnoxious affection behind closed doors.”

“Fuck you too, demon brat!”

“Aaaaww… Little Wing! No need to be so embarrassed!”

“I'm hurt you kept your boyfriend from us!”

“When's the wedding? I'll clear my schedule.”

“Fuck you guys, I'm turning my comms off.”

“You think I'll let you? Take your teasing like a man, Hood!”

“Et tu, Oracle?”

Accidental Arranged Marriage AU (v1)

After a reveal gone... weird, the Fentons believe Danny is dead and haunting them and is in denial when he claims to be half alive. They mourn him, and maybe even blame themselves and their research for causing him to become a ghost rather than dying properly.

But he is still their son, and they can't bear to hurt him, so they instead turn to superstitions and traditions from other cultures to try to get him to "move on" or "appease his restless spirit" or "put him at rest."

(Danny is actually eating better than ever now that his parents are regularly leaving out offerings of food at his altar.)

Eventually they come across the ancient Chinese practice of ghost marriage and decide to give it a shot. Maybe Dann-o can't move on because he died single, right? According to their research, ghosts would sometimes appear in their family's dream to tell them which other deceased person they want to marry, so Jack and Maddie hold a seance to consult their dead son.

(you could've just asked, y'know. You don't have to light candles and incense every time you try to talk to me.)

Danny, by this point is exasperated by his parents' failed and increasingly ridiculous attempts, decides to play along and says he wants to marry the Dead Robin.

He didn't expect this to be the time his parents' hairbrained plans actually sorta works.

Anyway, now Danny has to find the poor ghost he accidentally married so that they can get a ghost divorce. Well, guess his parents are getting rid of him after all, because looks like he's going to Gotham.

Now if only the Bats would stop looking at him so weird whenever he says he needs find the dead Robin so that they can annul their marriage.

"Red Hood, what did you do!?!"

"Fuck off! I swear I've never met this guy in my life!"

Version 2

#accidental arranged marriage au #dpxdc #dead on main #danny phantom #dc comics #batman #batfam #not really dead on main but i can't resist danny being an embarrassed teenager #the best part of a reveal gone right/weird: embarrassed teenager

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demonic0angel · 2 days ago

Note

for the dragon au:

Hatchling Damian sneaked into Jason's lair after the older dragon left to go hunting. Damian is on a mission to pilfer any books about animals.

Jazz caught him red-handed.

It ended with him dozing off while Jazz read to him.

Part 1

Damian triumphantly snuck into Jason’s lair, shaking out his wings. He tip toed to his hoard, knowing that Jason kept books about animals in the corner next to the anthropology books. His tail wagged at the thought of both successfully stealing it away and also using it to convince his sire to allow him to keep the black panther for a pet.

As he stepped into the hoard, the scent of an unknown female flooded his senses. Damian tensed and just as he was about to turn and leave, a large claw moved and turned him over. Damian yelped and hissed, darting back onto his feet and turning before he froze in place.

A large dragon with black scales and bright glowing eyes stared at him, wings stretched over them both. This dragon, clearly the one who was scenting everything with her scent, was even larger than his sire and all of her appendages looked even sharper than Jason’s. All in all, she was extremely dangerous.

“Who are you?” She asked, and although her voice was sweet, Damian couldn’t stop the shiver that ran through him.

He spread his own wings, widened his stance, and hissed at her. “Who are you! How dare you come into my brother’s hoard! When he comes back, he’ll kill you!”

The female dragon tilted her head. She leaned forward, muzzle coming uncomfortably close as Damian hissed again and scratched his tiny claws on her. She ignored the swipe and then nudged him over with her mouth. He squeaked as her teeth came too close to him. Then in one smooth motion, she opened her mouth and clamped her teeth over his middle. He shrieked, but she didn’t bite down, only gently holding him in her mouth before picking him up and moving to the center of the hoard.

He shuddered in between her teeth, feeling little like he always did when his father or Alfred carried him like this, but he didn’t even twitch as the female dragon moved between the piles of books to the center, where a nest was formed.

The combined scents of the female dragon and Jason made him freeze all over again. She flopped in the middle and then placed him in between her forelimbs, before licking over his head. Damian yowled but she didn’t even care. She continued to preen him before he finally found the courage to ask, “Who are you?!”

“I am called Jazz, little one. I am Jason’s mate and you have entered our nest. You must be Damian, his littlest hatchmate.”

Damian growled. Her tongue laved over his head again and he quickly melted. He hadn’t gotten cleaned in a while, and although she was not a dragon he had met before, she was family now if she and Jason were already nesting. She cleaned him and then asked, “What were you looking for, little one?”

“… I want a book on animals. I have discovered a panther cub and must do research before I can ask my sire to keep it.”

“A lovely decision,” she praised, before pressing down on him gingerly. “Stay, I will collect it for you.” Jazz left before she came back with a book delicately pinched between her large claws. “Can you read, little one?”

Damian slowly shook his head. He was going to ask Richard or Timothy to read to him.

Jazz nuzzled him. “I shall read to you then. Shall I start from the beginning or shall I go straight to the panther page?”

Damian perked up, his tail wagging. When Jazz settled back into the nest, Damian quickly followed along until he was between her front limbs, eagerly looking at the tiny book that was dwarfed by her size. “From the beginning! I shall allow you to read to me,” he said haughtily and she gave a rumbling purr before she started.

When Jason came back to the nest, a large ox and a sheep in his mouth, it was to the sight of his youngest brother between his mate’s arms, purring up a storm as Jazz read to him quietly.

“… did he bother you?” Jason asked, dropping the dead livestock in a corner away from the books before looking at his dozing little brother. Damian’s eyes were closed and he looked nothing like the bratty baby lizard that used to terrorize them for days on end.

“Not at all. He’s good practice for our hatchlings,” Jazz said, her wings wrapping around them both even closer.

Jason prowled around them for a good spot before settling under Jazz’s large wings. “As long as he’s not a bother.” He pointed a claw at the book. “Start from the beginning, will you?”

#dpxdc #dcxdp #dp x dc #dc x dp #danny phantom x dc #dp x dc crossover #ask #jazz fenton #anon ask #damian wayne #jason todd #jazz + damian duo #anger management ship #hardcover ship #jason x jazz #dragon au #tysm for the ask <3 #I fucking love this ask #anon you’ve done me a great service with this ask

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nightingale-prompts · 1 day ago

Text

The Eldritch Coffeehouse-DCxDP prompt-part 2(I guess)

Part 1

Elle had a way of convincing people. Like how she convinced Damian Wayne that they were now best friends and to come over to her family's business after-school.

Damian was only going along with this because of the prodding of his family to make friends. This wasn't something that came easy to him as no one would understand him. But Nightingale had been more understanding than most in his life. She was very...nice. She had these big ideas that always went ahead of her and plans that were larger than life. She always had too much energy and found it hard in school to get it out. Naturally, she was head of the track team but she'd always complain about wanting to join the music club.

Jon had met her once while trying to sneak up on them at the end of the day. She pinned him in a triangle chokehold until Damian called her off. Damian didn't call her off immediately though.

She was still more apologetic than he liked.

"I can make it up to you guys. Let's go to my family's café! We can eat ourselves sick on pastries and cake! My brother should still be making hot chocolate right now!" She told them.

Damian was nice enough to tell Dick where he was going and to not wait up. Alfred was already in the car in front of the school and drove the three to the...graveyard?

"Thank you Mister Pennyworth! Do you want to join us?" Elle asked loudly but politely.

Alfred accepted graciously and agreed to stay for a cup of tea before heading back. He would come pick up Damian later.

The walk through the graveyard was daunting for Jon and only for Jon. It wasn't as scary as he thought since it was only the afternoon and the weather was warm. A few cats rested on tombstones soaking in the heat. A few birds gathered here and there hunting for worms and seeds. There were food and water dishes here and there for the felines and fresh seeds sprinkled on the grass for the birds.

"I usually clean and change the food dishes in the morning. But Dan likes to feed the birds."

Elle walked the row of mausoleums until she stopped at one and pushed the stone door open and a skipped down a stairs and opened the smooth mahogany door in the café.

Behind the counter a young man stood pouring drinks.

"Elle you're back. Take this cup to table 3." He said putting a cup and saucer on a serving tray.

"I just got here! At least let me change or tell you we have guests." She whined but picked up the trey and marched over to the table.

"Guests? I'm sorry. Welcome to the Catacomb Club. How can we make your afterlife?" He said smoothly.

"Elle said we could eat sweets," Jon spoke up first and Damian elbowed him.

"Oh? Well, we have a batch of leftovers from this morning. Since you're her school friends you can get some from the kitchen." The barista said.

"Yay! Thanks Danny!" Elle had returned and opened the door to the backroom to grab some fresh plates and loading them up with sweets.

"Anything I can get for you, sir?" Danny asked Alfred.

"Just an Earl Gray. Or an Early Grave as you call it on the menu." Alfred said.

***

Elle presents a variable buffet of sweets to the boys. She really meant it when she said eat themselves sick.

The menu had no shortage of available snacks:

Tombstone Tarts – Mini fruit tarts with gravestone-shaped pastry toppers. (Jazz's pick)

Phantom Opera Cake – Layers of dark chocolate and coffee mousse with a smoky glaze.(Save a slice for Danny's SPECIAL guest (Jazz STOP)

Ethereal Cheesecake – A white chocolate cheesecake with a "foggy" vanilla glaze (You can just slap the word ethereal on things when you can't come up with something witty.) (Watch me)

Shadow Éclairs – Black cocoa éclairs filled with blood orange cream. (DANNY STOP EATING THE ORANGES) (no)

Soulful Scones – Charcoal scones served with berry jam and clotted cream.

Midnight Mocha Cupcakes – Chocolate cupcakes with espresso buttercream and a ghostly fondant topper. (Ew fondant)

Cemetery Soil – Chocolate pudding "dirt" with gummy worms and cookie gravestones. (Dani ate all the gummy worms again)

Wraith Cupcakes – Vanilla cupcakes with smoky gray frosting and sugar ghost toppers. (Dani's favorite)

Blackberry Bat Muffins – Dark muffins with blackberry compote and bat-shaped toppers. (Save some for that Cass girl)

Candied Skull Pops – Lollipops shaped like skulls in eerie colors.

Necropolis Nougat – Black and white nougat with bits of candied nuts and dried fruit. (Dan's favorite) (Weirdo)

Spirit’s Whisper Bark – White and dark chocolate bark with ghostly swirls and edible glitter.(please don't let Dani eat the glitter)

Moonlight Marshmallows – Homemade marshmallows in ghost or crescent moon shapes. (Danny's favorite)

Blood Velvet Rolls – Red velvet Swiss rolls filled with red cream cheese frosting. (Dan's favorite) (you can't have more than one favorite) (watch me)

Just like the rest of the menu there were comments going back and forth.

"The workers seem to argue constantly." Damian said bitting into a tart

Jon was making his way through the cake pops first.

"Well, we are family. We argue all the time but we don't mean it. Although I'm still mad they didn't like my dessert list." Elle sighed.

"Like what?" Damian asked.

"I had so many ideas like Eyeball pops filled with jelly, Bloody Bones white chocolate covered in raspberry syrup, or Maggot Macaroons with gummy worms in them," Elle said wiggling her fingers to mimic worms. "But Jazz said they were too gross sounding to sell. Humans have such weak stomachs."

Damian wanted to point out that Jon wasn't human and even he turned green. Damian on the other hand was intrigued. Elle was always entertaining to listen to.

The three enjoyed their snacks after Alfred finished his tea and took off.

Jon's Kryptonian appetite helped get through the bulk of it because Damian stopped short to not spoil his appetite.

This was wise since the Cafe preparing to switch to its bar setting with a more lively Jazz band and dinner menu.

Jon groaned at the thought of more food as he rested his face on the cool polished wood that smelled faintly of rose incense. He should have noticed by now that something as off but his stomach has been a major distraction. Had it been his father then who was trained to sense the issue the jig would have been up.

You see, they were the only mortals in the room.

Not one heartbeat could be heard. Jon should have known so much earlier when Elle managed to surprise him without her heart rate going up.

"Dani- I mean Elle?" A voice from the kitchen called.

A young woman with long red locks came into view. Her dress, a 50s style black tea-length poodle skirt. Instead of the usual poodle pattern on the hem, there was a white skeletal cat. She had on a pair of balck frilled short gloves. Other than her dress she wore an apron with a black ribcage design that matched the uniforms of the other workers/family members here. Her teal eyes softened when she saw Elle sitting with her friends

"Yeah, Jazz?" Elle asked.

"Do you still want to go on stage tonight or do you want to stay with your friends? And do you still want dinner?" Jazz asked in succession.

"I'm still going to do my set. And can I get carbonara and a glass of...um..." Elle struggled to find the word for the liquid that every undead in the area came here for. "My medicine."

Damian's ear picked up the hesitation in her voice.

"You take a perception?" Damian said perhaps a bit thoughtless since not everyone wants to talk about their medical issues. But he had never seen her take medicine at school and didn't know a medication that would be taken later in the day that wasn't also taken early.

"Kinda, it's something I have to take to keep living. But it like it, the juice I mean. You'd like it too but you don't need it. Dan is kinda stingy with who gets some. You types aren't allowed. Only members." Elle knew that this place was an open secret. It's not like they kept their ghostly nature secret. Everyone just thinks they are keeping up the theme while they were all completely serious. Besides lying isn't their nature.

Still, Elle wasn't being completely honest which isn't something that comes naturally to her. Bending the truth will have to do.

Damian let it go for now. He didn't need to know her medical history...yet.

Jon was taking a nap now anyways. Damian stole his phone out of his pocket and sent a text to the Kent family in case they wanted to know where Jonathan was.

Ellehad to change clothes into her uniform and grab her violin. It wasn't a surprise to Damian who knew she like music but he had never heard her play. Now she was on stage playing with the folk band as the guest clapped and danced.

Jazz brought out some food for them to eat while Danny traded places with a tall burly man who was definitely the eldest brother.

As Damian ate he listened to Elle play...well the band play but it was mostly Elle who he was listening for. He heard a familiar voice from behind his booth and when he looked over it was none other than Jason fucking Todd talking to the bartender. Talking? I meant failing miserably to flirt and having the tables turned on him easily.

#dc x dp #dpxdc #dc x dp prompt #danny fenton #danny phantom #dp x dc prompt #batman #damian wayne #jason todd #jonathan kent

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moonlitstoriess · 3 days ago

Text

The Cost of Deception- Azriel x fem!reader (2/3)

Summary: After years of silence, Y/N and Azriel unknowingly track the same target, only to find themselves face-to-face once more. Betrayal runs deep, and neither is willing to forgive, but the mission must come first—if they don’t destroy each other first.

See masterlist

Part 1

Warnings: not proofread, SMUT MINORS DNI (i will mention when it starts and ends), mentions of trauma, fighting, angst, mentions of SA, still kinda toxic Azriel, injuries

Azriel had been up for hours. Sleep had evaded him, the tangled sheets of the too-small bed serving as a bitter reminder of his lack of control. He hated himself for what had happened the night before—for how easily he had given in to her. She had been a firestorm in his arms, all heat and anger, a perfect storm of fury and passion. And he’d matched her, moment for moment, letting the simmering tension they’d carried for years erupt into something raw and primal.

But it was a mistake. He knew that.

His shadows slithered around him, restless as his thoughts. The morning air was cool, biting against his skin as he packed their meager supplies with deliberate precision. Every movement was an effort to drown out the memory of her body, the feel of her beneath him, the taste of her curses and her lips all at once.

The soft rustle of sheets behind him told him she was waking. He didn’t turn. He couldn’t. Not yet.

“Already up?” her voice broke the quiet, low and husky from sleep.

Azriel didn’t pause, his tone colder than the air. “We leave in ten minutes.”

He heard her shift, the sound of her feet hitting the floor. She didn’t say anything for a moment, and in the silence, he allowed himself a glance.

She looked… different in the soft morning light. No less fierce, but there was something raw about her, a vulnerability he didn’t want to acknowledge. Her hair was tousled, her expression guarded, but her eyes—gods, those eyes. They betrayed her for a heartbeat, flashing with hurt before they iced over.

“Right,” she said flatly, turning away to gather her things. “Wouldn’t want to waste time.”

The words were casual, but he could feel the edge in them, sharp enough to cut. He deserved it. He’d known that last night would hurt her, and he’d done it anyway.

His jaw tightened as he turned back to his task, pretending not to notice the quickness with which she dressed, the stiffness in her movements. Pretending not to feel the weight of the silence between them.

Azriel’s thoughts churned, a chaotic mess he couldn’t untangle. He’d spent years keeping his distance, convincing himself it was better that way. Safer. For her. For him.

But he hadn’t truly stayed away. He’d watched from the shadows, making sure she didn’t stumble into trouble she couldn’t handle. It was obsession, maybe. Or guilt. Or something he couldn’t name.

And last night had only made it worse.

He shouldn’t have touched her. Shouldn’t have let her pull him under. But the moment her lips had met his, all his carefully constructed walls had crumbled. And now, standing here in the cold light of morning, he couldn’t escape the truth of it: he wanted her still.

Not just her body, though that was seared into his mind like a brand. He wanted her fire, her defiance, the way she challenged him like no one else dared.

And gods help him, he hated her for it.

Because she had ruined him, too.

The memory of her betrayal—her lies—burned like a fresh wound. Her false information had led to disaster, and he’d paid the price. They both had. He could still see the fallout, the chaos it had caused, the look on her face when the consequences had come crashing down.

He shoved the thought aside, his jaw clenched as he swung his pack over his shoulder.

“We’re late,” he said curtly, breaking the silence.

She glanced at him, her expression unreadable. “I’m ready.”

They left the room without another word, the door clicking shut behind them.

As they walked through the quiet streets, the tension between them was palpable. His shadows twitched, brushing against her arm as if they had a mind of their own. He saw her stiffen at the contact, her gaze snapping to his in annoyance.

“Can you control those things for once?” she muttered.

“Can you stop giving orders for once?” he shot back, his voice colder than he intended.

Her lips thinned, but she didn’t respond. Instead, she quickened her pace, as if putting distance between them would lessen the weight of the silence.

Azriel watched her, his thoughts a tangled mess of guilt, anger, and something he refused to name. She was infuriating. Stubborn. Beautiful.

And gods help him, he didn’t know how to let her go.

The trail they followed wound through dense woods, the kind that swallowed sound and sight in equal measure. Every step was accompanied by the crunch of leaves underfoot, though Y/N couldn’t bring herself to care about stealth. Her frustration at the male stalking behind her simmered too hotly for that. If Azriel wanted her to be quiet, he could damn well walk faster and take the lead. But no—he kept his distance, keeping to his shadows as if they were the only things he trusted.

And maybe they were.

Y/N’s grip on her weapon tightened as she stomped down the uneven path, the tension between them suffocating. She didn’t dare look back, not when the memory of last night still clung to her like a second skin. She’d woken up to find him already dressed and preparing, his expression shuttered, his voice clipped.

A mistake.

That word had cut deeper than any blade. She hated herself for the flash of hurt he must’ve seen in her eyes before she managed to lock it away. Hated him even more for the way he seemed so unbothered, as if it hadn’t meant anything to him.

She gritted her teeth, her mind replaying his cold tone as she finally muttered, “You know, if I’m such a liability, why don’t you just leave me behind?”

Azriel didn’t answer immediately, though she knew he’d heard her. His shadows slithered across the ground toward her, curling near her boots as if they, too, wanted to silence her.

His voice, when it came, was clipped and devoid of emotion. “We’ve been over this. I need you. You need me. We both have the same goal. Malrik’s loyalists won’t hand themselves over for interrogation.”

The mention of Malrik set her blood boiling, though she wasn’t sure if it was because of the danger he posed or the fact that Azriel’s words had come with such detachment—I need you, not I want you. Not I care about you.

“Right,” she muttered, rolling her eyes even though she knew he couldn’t see her face. “Because that worked so well last time.”

Her words hung in the air like a challenge, but Azriel didn’t take the bait. Of course he didn’t. He never rose to her provocations unless it served some purpose, and right now, his silence only made her anger burn hotter.

The tension between them had her so distracted that she nearly missed the sound. Nearly.

A twig snapped, sharp and sudden, slicing through the oppressive quiet of the forest.

Y/N froze instantly, her instincts kicking in as she gripped her weapon. Her heart raced, but her body stayed perfectly still. She didn’t need to look back to know Azriel had stopped, too. His shadows darted out like vipers, curling through the trees in search of the source.

“Move,” Azriel hissed, his voice low but urgent.

Before she could process his command, he shoved her behind a tree. The force of it knocked the air from her lungs, and she barely had time to steady herself before an arrow flew past, embedding itself in the bark where she’d been standing a second ago.

Her heart slammed against her ribs as she peered out from behind the tree. Figures emerged from the shadows—six of them, maybe more. Their movements were too calculated, too precise for common bandits. These were professionals.

“Well, well,” one of the mercenaries drawled, his scarred face splitting into a grin. “Looks like we caught ourselves a pretty bird and her handler.”

Y/N’s grip on her weapon tightened, her pulse thundering in her ears. She could feel Azriel’s presence behind her, could feel the shift in the air as his shadows slithered around them. The tension between them was nothing compared to the danger standing before them now.

Azriel stepped out from behind the tree, his wings partially spread, his blade gleaming in the dim light filtering through the canopy. He looked every bit the terrifying Illyrian warrior the stories warned of, his shadows curling around his feet like living smoke.

“Leave now,” he said, his voice cold and sharp as steel. “And you’ll live.”

The mercenary laughed, the sound rough and mocking. “Oh, I don’t think so, shadow boy. Malrik wants your heads, and he’s paying well for them.”

Y/N stepped out then, her own blade at the ready. Her pulse steadied as adrenaline took over, her focus sharpening. “If you think Malrik’s gold is worth your lives, be my guest.”

The mercenary’s grin widened. “Feisty. I like her.” He raised his hand, and the rest of the group moved as one, fanning out to surround them.

Azriel shot her a warning look. “Stay close,” he muttered, his voice barely audible.

She bristled at the command but didn’t argue. They could hash out their differences later—if they survived this.

The first mercenary lunged, his blade aimed at Azriel’s throat. Azriel moved like a shadow, his dagger flashing as he parried the attack and countered with brutal efficiency.

Y/N barely had time to take it in before another mercenary was on her, his blade slashing toward her midsection. She sidestepped, bringing her own weapon up in a fluid arc that caught him across the shoulder. He staggered but didn’t fall, and she had to duck as another mercenary came at her from the side.

The fight descended into chaos, the sounds of steel meeting steel echoing through the forest. Y/N moved with precision, her strikes landing with deadly accuracy. But the mercenaries were relentless, their coordination suggesting they’d fought together before.

At one point, she felt a presence at her back and whirled, only to see Azriel there, his blade slicing through the throat of a mercenary who’d gotten too close. His shadows curled protectively around her for a moment before he moved away, his attention snapping back to the fight.

Her breath hitched, but there was no time to dwell on it.

Another mercenary lunged at her, his strike aimed at her head. She ducked and retaliated, driving her blade into his side. He went down with a grunt, but she barely had time to catch her breath before another took his place.

The fight was brutal, and for a moment, it seemed like they might be overwhelmed. But then Azriel’s shadows surged, wrapping around two of the mercenaries and dragging them to the ground. He moved with lethal grace, his blade flashing as he finished them off.

The remaining mercenaries hesitated, their confidence wavering as they realized they were outmatched.

“Leave,” Azriel snarled, his voice low and deadly.

This time, they listened. The survivors turned and fled, disappearing into the trees.

Y/N lowered her blade, her chest heaving as she tried to catch her breath. Her body ached, her muscles screaming in protest, but she forced herself to stand tall.

Azriel turned to her, his expression unreadable. “Are you hurt?”

She shook her head, not trusting herself to speak.

His gaze lingered on her for a moment longer before he turned away, cleaning his blade with practiced efficiency.

The tension between them hadn’t lessened. If anything, it had grown worse. But for now, there was silence, broken only by the distant sound of the mercenaries retreating.

Y/N stared after them, her thoughts a chaotic mess. She’d survived worse fights, but something about this one felt different—something about the way Azriel had looked at her, the way his shadows had curled around her like a shield.

She didn’t know what to make of it, and she wasn’t sure she wanted to.

After a couple of hours, the forest gave way to a clearing bathed in the glow of an early sunrise, the light slicing through the lingering mist. Y/N pushed past a dense tangle of branches, Azriel a step behind her, his shadows still coiling warily as if the mercenaries from earlier might reappear. Her muscles ached from the fight, and her patience was worn thin.

They had only just stepped into the clearing when Y/N froze.

Figures—at least five of them—stood gathered near the center, a flickering fire between them. They were armed and armored, their postures relaxed but alert. The glint of steel and polished leather caught the light, and though they looked at ease, the tension in the air was unmistakable.

“More of Malrik’s men?” Y/N muttered, her hand instinctively tightening around her blade.

Azriel’s shadows slithered forward, testing the air around the strangers. “No,” he said quietly. “Not mercenaries. But not friends, either.”

The figures turned as one, their conversation cutting off as they noticed the new arrivals. Y/N’s stomach twisted. They hadn’t been expecting anyone here, and whoever these people were, they looked like they could hold their own in a fight.

The leader of the group—a tall female with auburn hair braided down her back—stepped forward. Her eyes, sharp and assessing, flicked between Y/N and Azriel. “Well, isn’t this a surprise?” she said, her voice smooth but carrying an edge. “And here I thought this little corner of the forest was supposed to be quiet.”

Azriel stepped in front of Y/N, his shadows curling around his shoulders like a cloak. “We don’t want trouble,” he said evenly.

The female arched a brow. “Funny, considering you look like trouble incarnate.” Her gaze drifted to Y/N, lingering for a moment before returning to Azriel. “You don’t look like you’re from around here. What brings you to our woods?”

Before Azriel could respond, another figure stepped forward—a male. He was taller than the others, his dark hair curling slightly at the ends, a sword strapped to his back and a dagger at his hip. His eyes were a startling shade of green, sharp and unreadable, but there was a faint smirk tugging at his lips, as if he found the entire situation amusing.

“Raya,” the male drawled, addressing the woman. “Let’s not scare our guests off just yet. They’ve already had a rough night, judging by the state of them.” His gaze flicked over Y/N, lingering on the dried blood streaked across her cheek and the dirt smudged on her gear.

Y/N bristled under his scrutiny, raising her chin. “We didn’t realize we were trespassing,” she said coolly.

“Of course you didn’t,” the man said, his smirk widening. “That’s what makes it so much fun to catch fae like you off guard.”

“Enough, Cade,” Raya said sharply, shooting the man a warning look. He raised his hands in mock surrender, but the grin never left his face.

Raya turned her attention back to Y/N and Azriel. “These woods are dangerous, in case you hadn’t noticed. Fae like you don’t usually wander in without a reason.”

Y/N hesitated, weighing her options. She didn’t trust these people, but the group was clearly organized, well-armed, and familiar with the terrain. If they were looking for Malrik’s loyalists, these strangers might know something useful.

“We’re looking for someone,” she said finally, ignoring Azriel’s sharp look.

The group exchanged glances, a silent conversation passing between them. It was Cade who broke the silence, his smirk replaced by a more serious expression. “And who, exactly, are you looking for?”

“Malrik’s men,” Azriel said, his voice hard. “We’re tracking them.”

That got their attention. The tension in the clearing shifted, the casual postures of the group becoming more guarded.

“You’re hunting Malrik’s men?” Raya said, her tone skeptical. “Why?”

“Because they’re a threat,” Y/N said simply.

Cade laughed, the sound low and rough. “A threat? That’s putting it lightly. They’re practically crawling all over these woods. You’ll need more than the two of you to take them on.”

“Maybe we’re not the only ones who want them gone,” Y/N said, her tone sharp.

Raya tilted her head, studying her. “What are you suggesting?”

“I’m suggesting that if you know something, you share it,” Y/N said, stepping closer. “We’re after the same thing. Help us, or stay out of our way.”

The group went silent, their eyes darting between Raya and Cade. For a moment, it seemed like they might refuse. But then Cade stepped forward, his green eyes locking on Y/N’s.

“I’ll tell you what,” he said, his voice dropping into a low drawl. “We’ve got a camp not far from here. Come with us, and we’ll talk.”

Y/N hesitated, glancing at Azriel. His expression was unreadable, but his shadows were curling tighter around him, a sign of his unease.

“We’ll follow,” Azriel said at last, his tone leaving no room for argument.

Cade’s smirk returned. “Good. Try to keep up, shadow boy.”

As the group began to move, Y/N fell into step beside Azriel, her thoughts racing. She didn’t trust these people—especially not Cade, with his infuriating smirk and sharp eyes. But if they knew anything about Malrik’s men, they couldn’t afford to walk away.

Still, as they followed the group deeper into the woods, Y/N couldn’t shake the feeling that they’d just stepped into something much bigger than a simple hunt for mercenaries.

The trek toward the camp stretched on, the forest around them dense and humming with the subtle sounds of life. Cade led the way, his steps light and confident, while the others moved in a loose formation, clearly comfortable navigating the terrain. Y/N kept her eyes sharp, scanning for any sign of danger, though the group’s relaxed demeanor suggested they weren’t worried about threats.

She felt Azriel's presence like a shadow at her back—silent, watchful, and brooding. It was a constant reminder of their earlier argument, and the weight of his frustration pressed against her like a physical thing.

“So,” Cade said, his voice cutting through the quiet. He glanced over his shoulder at her, a lazy smirk tugging at his lips. “What’s a girl like you doing running around with shadow boy over there?”

Y/N blinked, caught off guard by his sudden question. “Excuse me?”

“You don’t exactly scream ‘spymaster lackey,’” Cade continued, ignoring Azriel entirely. “No offense, shadow boy.”

Azriel didn’t respond, but Y/N could feel the temperature drop as his shadows tightened, curling around him like restless smoke.

“I’m not his lackey,” she said coolly, stepping over a fallen branch.

“Could’ve fooled me.” Cade grinned, his green eyes glinting with amusement. “You’re a little too... fiery to be running around on a leash.”

Y/N raised a brow. “Fiery?”

“It’s a compliment,” he said with a wink. “Though, if we’re being honest, I’d peg you as more of a wildfire. Unpredictable. Dangerous. The kind that burns a man alive if he’s not careful.”

Despite herself, Y/N felt a flicker of amusement. “That’s a lot of assumptions for someone who doesn’t even know my name.”

“Oh, I don’t need your name to know you’re trouble,” Cade replied, his grin widening. “It’s written all over you.”

She shook her head, biting back a laugh. “You’re ridiculous.”

“And you’re deflecting.” Cade’s tone turned teasing, his gaze flicking over her with open curiosity. “So, what’s your story, wildfire? How’d you end up chasing mercenaries with a shadow-slinging brooder?”

Y/N opened her mouth to respond, but a low, dangerous growl from behind her cut through the air. She glanced over her shoulder to find Azriel glaring at Cade, his shadows curling tighter, darker.

“Shouldn’t you be watching the path?” Azriel said, his voice cold and quiet, the kind that sent shivers down her spine.

Cade, to her surprise, didn’t so much as flinch. Instead, he shrugged, completely unfazed. “The path’s not going anywhere. Besides, I’d hate to miss the chance to get to know your lovely companion here.”

Azriel’s steps quickened, and suddenly he was at her side, his towering presence making it clear that Cade’s banter had crossed a line. Y/N felt the air between them shift, the tension so thick it was suffocating.

“Maybe focus on getting us to the camp,” Azriel said, his voice like steel.

Cade just smirked, his confidence unshaken. “Relax, shadow boy. No harm in a little conversation. Or are you afraid she might like me better?”

Y/N couldn’t help the startled laugh that escaped her, though she quickly masked it with a cough. Azriel shot her a sharp look, his jaw tightening.

Raya, walking a few steps ahead, sighed audibly. “Cade, shut up before I gag you. You’re giving me a headache.”

“Aw, Raya, don’t be jealous,” Cade said with a mock pout. “There’s plenty of me to go around.”

“Gods, you’re insufferable,” Raya muttered, shaking her head. Then, turning to Y/N, she added, “Don’t let him fool you. He talks a lot, but it’s mostly nonsense.”

“I’m starting to get that,” Y/N replied dryly, though her lips twitched.

Azriel said nothing, his sharp gaze fixed on Cade like a hawk watching its prey. Y/N could practically feel the restraint it was taking for him not to lash out. She nudged him with her elbow, whispering, “Relax. He’s harmless.”

Azriel didn’t look at her, but his voice was low and taut. “I don’t like him.”

“Shocking,” Y/N muttered under her breath, earning her a sidelong glare.

Finally, the trees parted, revealing a sprawling camp nestled in a natural hollow. Tents of various sizes dotted the area, their canvas sides fluttering in the breeze. A large fire burned in the center, and several figures moved about, their movements purposeful and efficient. Despite its rough appearance, the camp was well-organized, and Y/N couldn’t help but be impressed.

“Welcome to our humble abode,” Cade said with a dramatic flourish. “It’s not much, but it keeps us alive.”

“Barely,” Raya muttered, striding past him.

Cade ignored her, his attention once again fixed on Y/N. “Come on, wildfire. Let me give you the grand tour.”

Y/N raised a brow. “Grand tour of tents and dirt? Tempting.”

“You’d be surprised what secrets this place holds,” Cade said with a wink. “Stick with me, and I’ll show you all the best spots.”

Before Y/N could respond, Azriel stepped forward. “We’re not splitting up.”

Raya turned to him, her expression hardening. “You are. The elder wants to speak with you, shadow boy.”

Azriel’s jaw clenched. “I don’t answer to your elder.”

“You do if you want our help,” Raya shot back, her tone leaving no room for argument.

Y/N placed a hand on Azriel’s arm, meeting his icy stare. “It’s fine. Go with her. I’ll be fine with Cade.”

Azriel’s gaze darkened, his voice a low growl. “No.”

Y/N sighed, exhaustion creeping into her voice. “Some distance from you would be good, Azriel. I’m tired of seeing your face.”

From somewhere behind her, Cade’s amused voice whispered, “Ugly one at that.”

Azriel moved so fast she barely had time to react, but Raya was quicker. She stepped between him and Cade, her voice sharp and commanding. “Enough. You’re going with me, whether you like it or not.”

Azriel’s glare could have melted steel, but Raya didn’t flinch. With a frustrated growl, he finally turned away, his shadows writhing around him.

Cade grinned, holding out a hand toward Y/N. “Shall we?”

Y/N hesitated, glancing at Azriel’s retreating form. He didn’t look back, but she could feel the tension radiating off him like a storm.

Taking a steadying breath, she turned back to Cade. “Lead the way.”

Azriel followed Raya through the winding paths of the camp, his strides measured but laced with a tension he couldn’t shake. His shadows rippled restlessly around him, curling and unfurling like they too sensed the storm brewing inside him.

Cade’s smirking face lingered in his mind, every smug word replaying over and over like a taunt. His hands clenched into fists at his sides, the urge to turn back and rip the grin off that idiot’s face almost overwhelming. But it wasn’t Cade that truly haunted him—it was the way Y/N had looked at him.

Her faint amusement. The way she’d allowed Cade’s attention, even if she didn’t encourage it.

Why did that bother him so much?

Azriel ground his teeth, the questions cutting deep as he walked. Why did it matter if she found Cade’s banter entertaining? Or if she thought Cade was charming? Hell, she probably did. Cade was... Cade. Confident, carefree, and the type of male who wore his charm like a damn badge of honor.

Azriel’s steps faltered.

Maybe she’d be happier with someone like that. Someone who could smile easily and joke without shadows clouding every word. Someone who wasn’t... him.

No.

The thought sliced through his mind like a whip, swift and brutal. The idea of her with anyone else made his chest tighten painfully, his shadows darken dangerously. Cade. Any male. It didn’t matter. None of them deserved her.

She could only ever be—

Azriel froze mid-thought, his breath catching as the realization clawed at him. With me.

His mind reeled, the emotions swirling in a storm of jealousy, fury, and something he refused to name. How had it come to this? How had she embedded herself so deeply into him that even the thought of her entertaining another male made him want to burn the world to ash?

It wasn’t fair. He wasn’t supposed to feel like this—not again.

Azriel’s jaw tightened, guilt twisting in his gut. He didn’t deserve this—her. She deserved better. Someone who could offer her light and laughter, not shadows and scars. Not pain and betrayal.

And yet, despite knowing all of that, the selfish part of him—the foolish part of him—wanted her anyway.

“Trouble in paradise?” Raya’s voice cut through his spiraling thoughts, dry and laced with amusement.

Azriel blinked, his head snapping toward her. He hadn’t realized she’d been watching him.

“Not in the mood,” he muttered, his tone sharper than intended.

Raya snorted. “You’re walking around like someone stole your favorite dagger. Let me guess: it’s about your lovely companion and Cade’s endless charm.”

Azriel’s shadows flared before he could stop them, and Raya laughed, shaking her head.

“Thought so,” she said. “Don’t worry, shadow boy. Cade’s an idiot, but he’s harmless. Mostly.”

“Mostly?” Azriel asked, his voice low, his shadows darkening further.

Raya waved a hand dismissively. “He talks a lot, but he’s not stupid. He knows when to back off... usually.” She glanced at him, her tone turning serious. “You should trust her. She doesn’t seem like the type to be easily swayed.”

Azriel said nothing, his jaw tightening as they continued walking. Trust her? He did. But that didn’t mean he trusted Cade—or any male, for that matter.

They reached a small hut near the center of the camp, its wooden structure weathered but sturdy. Smoke curled lazily from a small chimney, and the faint scent of herbs and earth lingered in the air.

Raya pushed open the door without hesitation, motioning for Azriel to follow.

Inside, the space was warm and dimly lit, the walls lined with shelves overflowing with jars, trinkets, and scrolls. A low table sat in the center, surrounded by cushions, and an elderly figure hunched over it, her hands moving deftly as she sorted through a collection of dried leaves.

The elder looked up as they entered, her eyes sharp and knowing despite the deep lines that etched her face. Her hair was a striking silver, braided down her back, and her presence filled the room like a force of nature.

Raya spoke first, her words flowing in a language Azriel didn’t recognize. The elder responded in kind, her voice steady and measured, though her eyes never left Azriel.

Finally, Raya turned to him. “The elder will speak with you now. Try to be polite.”

With that, she left, closing the door behind her.

Azriel inclined his head slightly, stepping further into the room.

“You are not what I expected,” the elder said, her voice soft but carrying an unmistakable weight.

Azriel raised a brow. “And what did you expect?”

The elder smiled faintly, gesturing for him to sit. “A male less... shrouded.”

He didn’t move. “We won’t be staying long. I only need information on Malrik.”

The elder chuckled, a low, knowing sound. “Always so impatient, your kind. Sit, shadow boy. I am older than your parents combined, and I don’t have time for your posturing.”

Azriel’s eyes narrowed, but he sat, his shadows shifting uneasily. “Why are you helping us?”

The elder leaned back, studying him with an intensity that made his skin prickle. “Because Malrik is dangerous, and you would not be here unless you had reason to stop him.”

Azriel hesitated, weighing his words carefully. Finally, he said, “He’s gathering forces, planning something larger.”

The elder nodded slowly. “You are right to be wary. Malrik has aligned himself with dark forces—forces that crave power and destruction. He is not a simple mercenary. He is a predator, and his sights are set on far more than this forest.”

“Where is he?” Azriel asked, his voice taut.

The elder’s expression darkened. “North of here, beyond the river. He has a stronghold hidden in the cliffs. But be warned—his forces are not easily overcome.”

Azriel nodded, his mind already calculating their next move. “Thank you for the information.”

The elder’s gaze softened slightly. “Be careful, shadow boy. The path you walk is treacherous, and the stakes are higher than you realize.”

Azriel didn’t respond, rising to his feet.

“You and your companion may stay here for the night,” the elder added. “But do not linger. The longer you stay, the more dangerous it becomes.”

With a curt nod, Azriel left the hut, his mind a whirlwind of plans and unresolved emotions.

He had left Y/N alone with Cade for far too long.

Y/n’s laughter had been constant throughout the tour, a sound she hadn’t realized she’d missed so much. Cade’s charisma was infectious, his humor weaving through the air like a gentle breeze, pushing aside the heavy thoughts that always loomed in her mind. For the first time in what felt like forever, there was no Azriel, no Malrik, no looming threats. There was just Cade, a bright presence, bringing lightness to her soul that she hadn’t known she needed.

Every joke Cade made felt like a small reprieve, each laugh an escape from the oppressive heaviness of her reality. His voice was like a soothing melody, lifting her spirits with every word he spoke, each playful comment distracting her from the constant weight of responsibility and turmoil. She had almost forgotten what it was like to simply be, to not be at war with herself or the world around her.

As the tour wound to its end, Cade finally turned to her with a grin, his hands brushing against his jacket as if closing a book.

"And that, my lady, is the grand tour," he declared, bowing dramatically. "Voila, your room, your kingdom."

Y/n’s laughter bubbled up again, and she felt a little lighter, a little freer. She didn’t even realize how deeply his presence had begun to impact her until this moment—until the joy had settled over her like a warm, comforting blanket.

But then, something shifted. Cade’s hand, warm and playful, slid around her waist. The movement was casual, natural, as if they had known each other for ages. Y/n stiffened for a brief moment—until the sharp chill of a shadow cut through the air.

Before she could even process the change, a blast of dark power pierced the moment, and Cade was forced to recoil. The sudden pain contorted his face as he jerked his hand back, clutching at it. Y/n's breath caught in her throat, her eyes flashing to the source.

Azriel.

He moved toward them with a deadly quiet, his presence like an icy storm sweeping over the area. His eyes locked onto Cade, and the space between them froze in an instant. Y/n felt the pulse of tension in the air as Azriel’s gaze bore through Cade, his jaw clenched, the coldness radiating from him sending a chill that had nothing to do with the temperature.

"Cade, are you alright?" Y/n found herself asking instinctively, her hand reaching for him, wanting to help.

Cade, ever the charmer, brushed off his injury with a smile, despite the clear wince of pain. "I’m fine. No need to worry, my lady. See? Hardly a scratch."

But Y/n was already turning, irritation bubbling under her skin as she faced Azriel. His expression was unreadable, his icy demeanor masking something far darker lurking underneath.

"Azriel," she began, her voice sharp with an edge of frustration, "why the hell would you—?"

Before she could finish, Azriel was already cutting her off, his voice low and controlled. "They gave us a room. Let’s go."

Y/n’s heart skipped a beat at his commanding tone. The words were like a cold slap to her face, a harsh reminder of who Azriel was—what he was capable of.

"No," she shot back, standing firm. "I’m staying here with Cade. He showed me to my room."

Azriel’s eyes darkened, his voice slipping into a low growl. "You’ll be coming with me." His gaze flickered to Cade, a clear challenge in his eyes, and it wasn’t long before Cade, seemingly unaffected, fired back.

"A room close to mine," he stated, his grin mischievous, as though taunting Azriel to escalate the situation.

Y/n’s heart twisted. She could feel the storm brewing between them, the undeniable pull of their conflict—a storm that had been building for far too long. And then, just like that, the tension snapped. Azriel didn’t wait. He lunged forward, a blur of motion, and before anyone could react, he had Cade pinned against the wall. The air crackled with the promise of violence, and Y/n’s pulse raced as she realized just how far things had already gone.

"Cade!" Y/n shouted, rushing forward, but it was Raya who managed to break them apart, her voice commanding as she barked orders.

"Get back, Y/n! Now!" Raya’s voice was like a whip, cutting through the chaos.

Y/n hesitated only for a moment before she grabbed Azriel’s arm, pulling him away with surprising strength as Raya moved to separate Cade from the mess. The citizens had gathered, whispering, eyes wide, watching the spectacle unfold, and Y/n could feel their stares on her as if she were the cause of all this madness.

"Get him away," Raya demanded, her voice cold and stern. Y/n’s own anger flared as she guided Azriel, pushing him towards the room that had been assigned to them.

When they finally reached the door, Y/n slammed it shut behind them, her breath heavy with a mix of anger and frustration. Azriel, ever the master of control, seemed unfazed on the surface, but she could see the simmering fury beneath his calm mask. He was coiled tight, ready to strike—at her, at anyone who dared to challenge him.

Y/n was silent for a moment, her back pressed against the door as she tried to steady herself. When she turned to face him, she saw the tension in his jaw, the tightening of his fists.

"Azriel," she started, her voice quieter than before, though the fury still laced her words. "You can’t just... you can’t keep doing this."

He met her gaze with the cold, deadly calm that he always wore, but she could see it in his eyes—the hunger, the need for control, the need to make her bend to him.

And it disgusted her.

"Sit down," she demanded, her tone sharp as she moved past him to find medical supplies. "You’re hurt."

Azriel didn’t argue, though there was a flicker of something dangerous in his eyes. He sat on the chair, his body tense, the only sign of his earlier aggression still visible in the way he held himself.

Y/n moved toward him, her hands working to gather the supplies. The silence between them stretched, heavy and thick with unspoken words. As she gently touched his wounds, applying the ointment with careful precision, the moment stretched out into something… more.

"You’re still the same," she whispered, barely audible, her hands hesitating as she met his gaze. "Nothing has changed."

Azriel's voice was low and edged with a dangerous kind of amusement. "What do you mean by that?"

Y/n leaned down to tend to the injury on his shoulder, her breath warm against his skin. As she reached to dab at the wound, her hand brushed across his lips. The world seemed to still, the air thick with tension. Azriel’s gaze locked on her, heat swirling in his dark eyes. He leaned forward, his lips brushing against her finger, and before she could react, his tongue darted out, catching the tip of her finger.

She gasped, her body freezing as the sensation of his touch ignited something inside her that she had thought long buried. Her thoughts scattered, and for a moment, she forgot herself.

"Divine," Azriel murmured, his voice thick, the word leaving a trail of fire in its wake.

Her breath caught in her throat. No. She would not fall for this again. Not after everything.

Y/n jerked back, pulling her hand away from him, her heart hammering in her chest. "Let me go," she whispered, her voice shaky with a mixture of rage and something darker.

Azriel reached for her again, but this time, she was quicker. "You’re not getting away from me that easily," he muttered, though the dark hunger in his eyes made her heart twist.

But she wouldn’t let him. She wouldn’t fall for it. She wouldn’t let herself believe that she could forgive him, not again, not after everything he had done.

"Why?" she spat suddenly, her voice low but raw. "Why did you care, Azriel? Why does it matter to you now?"

Azriel’s expression froze, his eyes narrowing. "What the hell are you talking about?"

Y/n's words spilled out, as if they had been building for years, for lifetimes, ready to erupt.

"Because of you," she hissed, the words cutting through the silence like a blade. "Because you banished me. You took everything from me, Azriel. It was because of you that I ended up in Malrik’s path. He raped me. Is that what you wanted to hear? You wanted to hear the truth, Azriel? There it is."

The room fell silent. Azriel’s body froze, his eyes wide with shock and something else—something almost darker than fury.

"Wh—what?" Azriel’s voice was cold, barely a whisper, and she could hear the tremble in it.

Y/n’s gaze hardened. She would not give him the satisfaction of her pain. Not again.

"You heard me," she said, her voice breaking only slightly. "Forget it, Azriel. I don’t need your pity. I never wanted it from you."

Azriel’s eyes burned, but she wasn’t looking for the comfort of his gaze. She was too far gone. Too broken.

"Do you care now, Azriel?" she mocked, laughing bitterly. "After everything? After you helped ruin my life?"

Azriel took a step toward her, his expression a mixture of confusion and anger.

"Don’t test me," he warned, his voice dangerously low. "What did you just say?"

Y/n didn’t answer. She didn’t need to. The damage was already done.

With one final, cold laugh, she turned on her heel, heading for the door. "You don’t deserve to know."

And with that, she left him standing in the silence of the room—his world slowly crumbling around him.

Azriel’s fists were clenched so tightly that his nails were digging into his palms, the pain a welcome distraction from the fury that churned through him. His mind raced, every thought tangled in a mess of rage, guilt, and self-loathing, each one more suffocating than the last. Malrik’s name burned through his veins like acid, every breath he took a reminder of the horror that had unfolded—the horror he had failed to stop. He could feel his body trembling with barely contained violence, a force ready to break free at the first opportunity. But it was not just Malrik’s face he saw when his mind closed in. It was hers.

Y/n.

He couldn’t escape the memory of her—her eyes wide, brimming with raw pain as she recounted the depths of what had happened to her. It was the sound of her voice, trembling, the way her hands had jerked away from him as though his touch had poisoned her. It was the coldness that had filled the space between them. It was the utter betrayal he had felt in her eyes, as though every part of her had been shattered by him. By him.

The realization gnawed at his insides like a feral beast. He had been so blind, so consumed by his own guilt and his obsession with keeping control, that he had failed her when she needed him the most. When she had needed him most.

And then, the worst part—the piece of his own tortured soul that he couldn't escape from. That night, when everything had gone wrong, when Y/n had needed someone to chase after her, someone to protect her, someone to care, he had stood there, frozen. Frozen.

His mind had screamed at him to go after her, to chase her down and hold her in his arms, to assure her that he would never let anyone hurt her again. But he hadn’t. He had stayed behind in that wretched room, wallowing in his guilt, knowing that he didn’t deserve to comfort her. He didn’t deserve her.

The thought was like a jagged knife in his heart. How could he, when he had failed her so utterly, so completely? He was the one who had let her down. He was the one who had failed to protect her, who had let the world hurt her.

His rage reached new heights as he thought of Malrik’s name again. The bastard. The monster. Malrik had taken something so precious from her, and Azriel had been too weak, too much of a coward to stop it.

Not again.

Azriel’s chest heaved as the thought surged forward, becoming his singular focus. He would make Malrik pay. He would make him suffer in ways that no man—no monster—could endure. The bastard would feel every single second of pain that Y/n had felt. And more. The thought of what Malrik had done to her filled him with a fury so overwhelming that it threatened to break the walls of control Azriel had built around himself.

Azriel didn’t sleep that night. His mind wouldn’t allow him to. Every time he closed his eyes, he saw her face again—the raw emotion in her eyes, the betrayal, the pain. The tears that had gathered there but never fell.

Instead, he planned. He planned every agonizing moment of Malrik’s downfall. Every strike, every word he would say to break him. He would make sure Malrik understood what it felt like to be stripped of everything, to have everything he had ever known taken from him in the most brutal of ways.

But even as he planned, even as he dreamed of tearing Malrik apart, a part of him knew—knew—he wasn’t doing it for vengeance. He wasn’t doing it to make the world right again. No. He was doing it for Y/n. He was doing it because she needed him, even if she couldn’t see that right now. Because she would need him again, whether she admitted it or not. He would be there, in the shadows, ready to protect her when she was ready to accept him.

That thought—her needing him again—kept him from completely losing himself. He would keep her safe, even from himself. Even if she never looked at him the same way again, even if she never forgave him, he would keep her safe. That was the only promise he could make.

Morning came slowly. The dim light of dawn crept through the window, casting long, slanted shadows across the room. Azriel felt the weight of the night’s torment lift, but only slightly. His chest still ached with the burden of guilt, but he knew there was work to be done. There was always work to be done.

He stood, stretching his arms above his head, the tension still lingering in his body as he gathered himself. His heart thundered in his chest as his eyes fell upon the door.

He had promised to keep her safe. He had failed her once, but not again.

With one last glance around the room, Azriel stepped otside, his footsteps silent as he moved down the road. The cool air of the early morning settled on his skin, the silence broken only by the distant sounds of the camp stirring to life.

He knew she would be out there. He could feel her. He could sense her presence in the air like a faint pull at his soul, the connection between them still there, even after everything. He would find her.

And as he rounded a big tree, he saw her.

Y/n.

Her back was to him, her posture stiff, her shoulders hunched in a way that made his stomach twist. She sat on a log near the fire pit, Raya beside her. Neither of them looked particularly happy. Azriel could see it—the tension in her shoulders, the way she barely seemed to move, the way her eyes flicked to the ground as if avoiding something. It was clear she wasn’t okay.

Raya spoke, her voice too soft to be heard from where Azriel stood, but Y/n didn’t answer. Not with words. She barely moved. Azriel’s heart clenched at the sight. She looked so fragile, so broken, and it was all his fault.

His anger flared again, but this time, it was directed inward. At himself.

He wasn’t enough for her. He had never been enough. He had always tried to push away his feelings, tried to convince himself that his duty to his people, his loyalty to the shadows, was enough to make up for the coldness he hid behind. But it hadn’t been. It had never been.

And now, here she was, sitting there, broken and lost, because of him.

But he couldn’t let this continue. He couldn’t let her be alone in this. No matter what she thought of him, no matter how much she hated him, he would not leave her like this.

She would never be alone again.

Stepping forward, he moved with the silence of the shadows that had always been his ally, coming up behind her.

Y/n didn’t notice him approach, and for a moment, he simply stood there, watching her. His heart twisted in his chest, but his gaze hardened. There would be no more hesitation. No more hiding behind his guilt.

"Y/n," he said, his voice low, barely a whisper.

Her shoulders stiffened, and she turned slowly to look at him. Her eyes, dull and filled with something he couldn’t place, met his, and for a moment, the world seemed to stop.

She said nothing, and yet everything in her screamed at him.

But Azriel didn’t look away. Not this time. Not when she needed him most.

"I swear to you," he said, his voice low and laced with a promise, "Malrik will pay. And no matter what you think of me, no matter how much you despise me, I will keep you safe."

She didn’t answer, but the faintest flicker in her eyes told him that she had heard him. It was a small step, but it was a step.

And it was enough.

Azriel stood there, resolute. He would make Malrik pay. He would make the bastard regret ever laying a finger on her.

And as the first rays of sunlight crept across the horizon, he knew—he would always fight for her.

No matter what.

Y/n’s steps were slow, measured, her body almost dragging behind the others. The forest around her seemed distant, even though it was right in front of her. The towering trees, the chirping birds, the rustle of leaves—they were just noises in the background, blending into the dullness of everything else. There was a weight in her chest, one that felt like it was pressing down on her lungs, suffocating her.

It was an unfamiliar kind of silence. The quiet between her and Azriel was thicker than it had ever been, and for once, she didn’t even have the energy to make some biting remark, to lash out. The fire that usually burned inside her, the defiance, the sharpness—it was gone.

Everything felt numb. Everything.

Azriel had been silent too, his usual stoic expression betraying a deep strain that had only grown worse over the hours. She could feel his gaze on her, though she didn’t dare look back at him. She couldn’t. The thought of meeting his eyes—of seeing that guilt, that sorrow written across his face—was almost too much.

She hadn’t said a word since they’d left camp. Neither of them had. The only sounds between them were their footsteps on the forest floor, the soft crackling of twigs underfoot. She was surprised she hadn’t heard Azriel speak, to ask her something, to break the silence. But he hadn’t. Instead, his presence lingered behind her like an invisible weight, an oppressive force that made every breath she took feel shallow.

Eventually, they reached a clearing. The sunlight filtered through the canopy above, casting dappled light over the soft grass. A small lake stretched out before them, its surface as still as the air around it. It was almost eerie, the quietness of it all, and Y/n found herself standing there for a moment longer than she intended, as if waiting for something—anything—to change.

Azriel, however, came to an abrupt stop, causing Y/n to halt as well. He turned to face her, his eyes flicking to the water briefly before meeting her gaze. His jaw tightened, the lines of his face hardening in that way they always did when he was deep in thought.

"We stop here," he said, his voice quiet but firm. "Malrik’s place is close. We need to make the final plan."

Y/n just nodded. She didn’t care. She didn’t feel anything. The words fell flat in her mind, the weight of the situation not even penetrating her numbness. Azriel’s gaze lingered on her for a moment, his brow furrowed, like he was waiting for something. But she didn’t offer anything. Not a word. Not a glance. Nothing.

Azriel sighed deeply. It was a sound full of weariness and frustration, and when she finally looked up at him, she saw something she hadn’t expected—guilt. A deep, gnawing kind of guilt that twisted at the corners of his eyes.

He opened his mouth to speak, then closed it again, running a hand through his dark hair in frustration. His eyes dropped to the ground, then flicked back to hers.

"Y/n," he began, his voice low, almost too quiet, "I know what I did… I can’t fix it, but I need you to understand." He paused, visibly gathering his thoughts, as though the weight of his words was more than he could bear.

She stood still, her arms crossed over her chest, her gaze fixed firmly on him. She was cold, distant—detached. It wasn’t that she wanted to ignore him. It was just… easier this way. It hurt too much to feel anything else.

"I made the choice to protect the rest of the team," Azriel continued, his voice hoarse with regret. "I didn’t believe you, but I did it to protect the network, the people we worked with. I… I spread the lie that you were a traitor to keep suspicion off of everyone else. To keep the integrity of the mission intact."

His words hung in the air between them, each one a sharp reminder of the betrayal. But Y/n wasn’t surprised. She didn’t even feel the sting anymore. She had lived with it for so long, she had become numb to the pain of it all.

Azriel’s voice faltered when he saw her reaction—or lack of one. She didn’t flinch. She didn’t react the way he had hoped. Instead, her eyes were flat, distant, as if the words didn’t matter anymore.

"That day…" Azriel’s breath caught in his throat. "I’m sorry. I’m so sorry for not believing you. I thought—"

Y/n’s eyes flicked to him, the coldness in her gaze sharper than any dagger. She cut him off before he could finish.

"Really?" she asked, her voice flat, a dull edge to the words that cut deeper than any shout. "That’s all you have to say? That’s how little you believed in me, after everything I did for you? After everything I gave you?"

Her words were like ice, and each syllable seemed to strike Azriel like a hammer against his chest. He opened his mouth to respond, but nothing came out at first. The guilt was so thick in his throat he couldn’t find the words. He had hurt her so deeply, and now, there was nothing he could do to make it right.

"You branded me a traitor," Y/n continued, her voice cold and cutting. "I was forced to flee, branded and cast out, with no home, no life to go back to. And do you know what happened then? Do you know what happened when you turned your back on me?" She paused, her eyes now dark and distant as if she were reliving the memories in that very moment.

Azriel’s chest tightened. He could see the pain there, in her eyes, even though her face remained an emotionless mask.

"Malrik," she said, her voice almost a whisper, the name like venom on her tongue. "He found me, in my weakest state, when I had nothing left. He took advantage of me, twisted me into something I wasn’t. And all of it—everything that happened—was because you couldn’t believe in me."

Azriel winced, his entire body recoiling from the harshness of her words, the weight of her truth. He had never wanted to see her like this, to hear her speak of everything he had done to her. He had thought, all this time, that his actions were justified. That they were for the greater good. But now, standing in front of her, all he saw was the destruction he had wrought.

"I didn’t mean for any of it to happen," Azriel whispered, his voice breaking. "I never wanted you to go through that. I was wrong. I failed you, Y/n, and I can’t—I can’t fix it. I just want you to know… I’m sorry. I’m so sorry."

Y/n stared at him for a long moment, her eyes cold, unyielding. Her lips pressed into a thin line. She said nothing for a moment, letting the silence hang heavy in the air.

And then, in a voice that was quiet, but somehow colder than anything Azriel had ever heard, she spoke again.

"Sorry doesn’t change anything, Azriel," she said, her words cutting through the silence. "Sorry doesn’t fix what you did. Sorry doesn’t give me back the life you took from me."

Her gaze flicked to the ground, and Azriel’s heart shattered at the hollow emptiness in her voice.

"I don’t need your apologies," she whispered, more to herself than to him. "I needed you to believe in me. I needed you to trust me. But you didn’t."

And with that, she turned away, walking toward the edge of the lake, her steps distant, her posture rigid with that coldness that now seemed to define her.

Azriel stood there, motionless, the weight of her words sinking into him like a thousand blades. He had never felt such crushing guilt in his life. He had never felt so utterly lost.

But Y/n didn’t look back. Not even once.

(SMUT STARTS HERE)

Suddenly, she sighed before saying, "I hate you but I also need you."

And the next thing she knew, she was taking her clothes off, feeling his gaze behind her as she lazily entered the water. She hated how even after all of this, she wanted his gaze on her and only her.

She was still not looking at him, turned away so her back was facing him in the water as she stared into the other side of the lake. "Let's make the mistake of last night once more. After all, we won't be seeing each other once this mission's done. I don't need your useless pity. All I need is to use you now, just like you used me then."

It meant nothing, it would cut him deep and she didn't care.

Suddenly, she felt his naked chest pressing against her as he lened in to whisper in her ear, "Use me then."

Y/n's breath hitched, a tinge of surprise fluttering inside her despite the cold, calculated mask she had been wearing. She hadn’t expected him to move, to be this close again. But Azriel, ever the shadow, was right there—his presence like a storm against the stillness of the lake. His voice, a low rasp, sent a shiver down her spine. She didn't want to acknowledge it, but she couldn't ignore the way her body reacted to his proximity. She hated it. She hated that even in this mess, even in the aftermath of betrayal, her mind still wanted him, still needed him.

"Use me then," Azriel repeated, his words a dark promise that neither comforted nor threatened. It was like he was daring her, pushing her to go further, to test the boundaries of the agony between them. He knew this was all she had left—the anger, the coldness. The way she lashed out, using her words like blades, trying to push him further away.

Her pulse quickened, but Y/n kept her face impassive, her gaze hard as she stared across the lake. The water rippled lazily around her, reflecting the overcast sky, the light barely reaching through the trees. It was all so calm—so still. And yet, inside her chest, the storm raged.

He moved then, his hand sliding around her waist, pulling her against him with a gentleness that contrasted the tension in his body. His lips brushed the back of her neck, a fleeting, tender touch that nearly broke her. But Y/n stayed still, her pulse pounding in her ears.

"I’m not leaving you," Azriel murmured, his voice soft but fierce. "Not like before. Not this time."

The words hit her harder than she’d expected, and for the briefest moment, the coldness in her heart cracked open.

But she wouldn’t let it. Not now. Not ever.

"Let’s make that mistake," she said again, her voice flat, unfeeling. "But don’t think it’ll change anything."

Azriel’s arms tightened around her, his lips brushing against her ear one last time. "I never thought it would."

And before she knew it, his hand went lower, reaching her core, causing a small gasp to leave her lips as her hand came over his arm, gripping it.

He lazily massaged her clit and she suddenly felt aware of his largee cock teasing her from behind too. And as if on cue, he entered her from the back at the same time as his finger entered her from the front.

Y/n couldn't hold the moan that escaped her lips after that, her grip tightening on his arm as azriel began thrusting into her from behind while his mouth started sucking and kissing on her neck.

Then, she felt a second finger dip into her as he began fucking her faster, his pace quickening as her moans grew louder.

"Fuck, just like that, keep moaning," Azriel said through his own growls as she leaned her head back on him for support and thats when he took the chance to capture and mark her lips.

The kiss was brutal, it was as if he wanted nothing more than to eat her alive, to forever be joined with her, to imprint himself on her. The water was rippling wildly with their movements and when he felt her clenching around his cock and fingers, he knew she was close.

But then-- then she did the unthinkable.

Azriel suddenly felt his mind go blank when Y/N reached her hand out and touched that part of his wings. Just the right area of his nerves to make him weak in the knees. With a loud groan he couldn't stop himself and released inside her, Y/N following right after him.

Their ragged breaths were all that could be heard as Y/N fell back on to his strong hold for support.

(SMUT ENDS HERE)

An hour later, the silence between them felt heavier than ever after what had transpired. The air was thick with unspoken words, emotions both raw and tumultuous swirling around them.

Y/N lay back on the soft earth beside the water’s edge, her breath still shallow from the intensity. She stared up at the sky, the clouds slowly floating away. But it wasn’t the sky that had her attention—her mind was clouded with thoughts of what had just happened. The distance between them, once so palpable, had blurred. And now, in the aftermath, she felt more lost than ever.

Azriel sat beside her, his posture tense, but there was something else—something softer in the way he looked at her, though he remained silent. He didn’t touch her, didn’t speak. But she could feel him there, present, his very presence suffocating her thoughts.

She wanted to speak. To scream, to confront him, to demand answers. But the words wouldn't come. The anger and frustration she’d been holding inside for so long—since before everything had spiraled—felt heavier now. But it wasn’t just the anger. It was confusion. Confusion about herself, about him. About what they had just shared.

He finally broke the silence, his voice low and rough. "Y/N…" he whispered her name, and she flinched slightly, though she didn’t look at him. "I—"

"Don’t," she interrupted, her voice barely above a whisper. "I don’t want your apology. I don’t want your explanations."

There was a long pause, the kind that felt like an eternity. Her words hung in the air between them, but she didn’t regret them. She couldn’t. Not after everything.

He remained silent, his gaze fixed somewhere in the distance. She could feel the weight of his stare, but she refused to meet it. She didn’t trust herself to look at him without feeling something she wasn’t ready to face.

After what felt like hours, he spoke again. "You can hate me all you want," he said quietly, his voice strained. "But I’ll never stop trying to protect you. Even if you don’t want it."

Y/N sat up, her gaze flickering over to him, though her heart twisted at the sincerity in his tone. "Why?" she asked softly, her voice trembling slightly despite herself. "Why now? After everything?"

He turned to her, his expression unreadable, though the shadows in his eyes seemed to deepen. "I don’t know. I don’t have all the answers. But I do know that I can’t walk away. Not from you."

Her heart pounded in her chest, and for a moment, she thought she might fall apart. Instead, she swallowed, her walls—barely held up to begin with—beginning to crack.

"You think that changes anything?" she said, her voice strong, though her chest felt tight with emotion. "It doesn’t. We can’t undo what’s been done."

Azriel’s eyes flickered, his jaw tightening. "I never expected you to forgive me," he said, voice low. "But I’ll make sure you’re never alone again. Even if that means staying out of your way."

Y/N turned away, her emotions swirling. She wasn’t ready for this conversation. Not yet. Not when everything still felt so fresh, so painful.

But in that moment, something shifted—something she couldn't name or understand. A part of her knew that this... whatever this was between them... would never be simple. But for the first time in a long while, she wasn’t sure she wanted it to be.

"Let’s finish this mission," she said quietly, her voice shaking slightly. "And then... we'll figure out where we stand."

Azriel nodded, but she could feel the weight of his gaze on her, even as she stood up, brushing the dirt from her clothes. The mission. The chaos. It all still loomed ahead of them, and neither of them was ready to face it just yet.

But as they walked away from the lake, side by side, something unspoken had changed. They hadn’t fixed everything. Far from it. But they’d come closer to understanding each other, to acknowledging that whatever had happened between them—it wasn’t over.

Not yet.

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

Taglist: @darkbloodsly @moonfawnx @clementine111002 @galaxystern08

#azriel acotar #azriel angst #azriel smut #azriel x reader #azriel fic #azriel imagine #acotar imagine #acotar angst #acotar x reader #acotar #acotar smut

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natalievoncatte · 2 days ago

Text

“Open your eyes and look at what you did.”

Lena was tired. Fixing the world was heavy work, especially when it involved cracking the secrets of the ultimate weapon of a dead empire. Myriad was tucked away safely in her lab behind shielding and laser grids and the most advanced security systems in the world, but was most of all protected by Kara’s reputation. Supergirl couldn’t just smash her way into a building and steal something, especially not now, with so much public scrutiny against her.

Lena was expecting a night at home. Not to relax -she hasn’t relaxed until her brother’s wormy lips, turning blue in death, spilled those four little words and cracked her heart in half, broke it into so many pieces that all the king’s horses and all the king’s men and not even Supergirl could put it together again. What was left of her capacity for that kind of love was gone now. Lex had started the process of ripping it out.

Lena has finished it, casting the bloody shreds on the icy floor of a mausoleum in the arctic, not turning back even once to see.

She knew the DEO was watching her every move, waiting for her to make a mistake that she could seize on. She knew they were itching to take her out. Kara would probably lead the charge herself. She’d crow about how she didn’t want to do this and didn’t want to hurt Lena and then she’d perp walk her like a villain of the week.

It wasn’t remorse that swirled in her stomach. It wasn’t regret that iced her veins. It wasn’t sorrow that made her eyes burn, and it wasn’t doubt that made the clicks of her heels echo in her empty lifeless penthouse.

She did not feel any of those things. Soon, no one ever would again. A world without lies, without strife, without pain. Those twisting, burning emotions would be gone. For everyone.

For her.

Lena froze when she heard the soft click of a hammer being thumbed back on a pistol.

“Turn around.”

Lena tensed. Alex. She should have expected this- Alex didn’t care about the rules when it came to her sister.

Slowly, Lena turned. Alex was right behind her, gun in one hand, phone in the other. She started to play a video on the screen. Lena recognized it at once as the Fortress of Solitude.

“Why?” Alex choked out. “Why did it have to be you?”

Lena pressed her eyes shut, scrambling for something to say. There was a real chance that this confrontation ended with her in a pool of blood on the floor.

“Open your eyes, you bitch! Open your eyes and look at what you did!”

Lena opened them and was confronted with what she had refused to see before, what she had turned from before portalling out. Like a biblical prophet she knew that if she but turned back for a last look she’d have been undone.

Alex recorded Kara locked in the cage as she approached, calling her sister’s name. Kara didn’t respond. She simply lay curled on the floor, faint green scratches scored in her exposed skin. As Alex drew nearer, Lena could hear Kara making a peculiar sound- a rhythmic, trilling thrum, a deep basso rumble as if she were… purring.

And sobbing.

Lena tried to look away but Alex’s expression tightened. Lena forced herself to stare into the screen- the picture blurred as Alex must have been fumbling with the Kryptonian controls. Finally, the crystal cage retracted.

“Kara,” Alex was saying. “Kara, oh my god, where’s Lena? Is she alright?”

Lena flinched. Alex’s jaw tightened as their eye briefly met.

Kara’s face was a mask of pain and grief, clouded with an agony deeper than any physical hurt.

“It was Lena.”

“What?”

“It was Lena. She took Myriad from the armory and she… she was so mad, Alex. It was like she h-hated me. She was lying the whole time after I told her who I was, she already knew and she was so mad. Alex I think she hates me now.”

Kara began to sob and make that damned purring sound at the same time.

“Don’t hurt her,” Kara whimpered, “don’t hurt her, Alex. She’s good, I promise she’s good she just needs our help.”

Alex turned off the video and pressed the muzzle of her gun to Lena’s forehead.

Lena closed her eyes.

“I have every reason to,” Alex began.

“Do it,” Lena hissed. “It’s what we both want, just fucking do it. She’ll get over it.”

“No,” Alex choked out, her voice drowning in emotion. “No she won’t, ever. She has an eidetic memory. If I blow your fucking head off like I should, her last memory of you will be that, what you did to her in her most sacred place, forever.”

“Good,” Lena snapped, opening her eyes. “Good. Then she’ll know how I feel.”

“Yeah? How’s that?”

“Like she tore my heart out. I believed in her. I gave myself to her in a way I never have for anyone else. I let her in after I swore on my mother’s grave I’d never let anyone else hurt me like… like someone else did. She hammered her way into my life with her kindness and her concern and her comfort and it was all a FUCKING LIE, Alex!”

Lena sucked in a hitching breath and went on, forcing herself to go on as she blinked to force the tears from her eyes.

“It was all a lie. I’m just a Luthor to her, to you, to all of you. I sat in that apartment on game nights and movie nights and you all knew. You all knew, and you mocked me. So many cryptic comments and weird little jokes and now I know why. I let myself believe it. I let myself believe she wanted me. She kept trying to tell me something over and over and she kept backing away from it and…”

Lena froze.

The gun fell away, and Alex just stared at her.

“Oh my God. Oh my fucking God,” Alex gasped.

“No,” Lena protested, “no it’s not that!”

“You’re in love with her, aren’t you? Holy fuck, how did I not see this before? You bought a billion dollar publishing company on a whim for her. The flowers, the way you looked at me before she told you I’m her sister. Jesus. Jesus Christ, Lena. You God damn drama queen.”

“I’m a drama queen? You pointed a gun at my head!”

Alex racked the slide back, and turned the weapon so Lena could see the follower of the empty magazine had locked it open. It was unloaded.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” Lena screeched.

“I came here to tell you to give me Myriad back and stay the hell away from my sister,” said Alex.

“You pointed a real gun at my head! I don’t care if it was unloaded, the first rule of gun safety is…”

“You thought it was something else,” said Alex.

“God damn it,” Lena began, but Alex cut her off.

“You thought she was working up to tell you something else. You thought she was going to confess her love, didn’t you?”

Lena went completely still.

She had know it, of course. She had known it the way that she knew the sun would rise in the east and set in the west, the way way she knew the stars would shine and the tide would beat against the shore. She had known it in the hollows of her bones, in places she forgot she could feel.

She had not known she knew it.

Lex’s words buffeted her from memory and she felt a knew shattering, even deeper this time.

“I fucked up,” someone said, only it was Lena, her own voice echoing from somewhere far distant. She was only dimly aware of the painful jolt in her tailbone as she slid down the cabinet behind her and her ass landed on the hardwood floor.

“When Lex told me, he proved it. He proved it. I didn’t want to see it but he proved it to me. I’m not what she wants. She’ll never want me like I want her.”

Alex looked down at her and Lena watched her expression shift, dancing through a dozen different emotions.

“It hurts, doesn’t it?”

“Yeah.”

“You have anything to drink here? Something good, I don’t want to pussy around with box wine. This is a whiskey occasion.”

Perplexed, Lena simply said, “Side cupboard, there’s a bottle of single malt and some tumblers.”

Alex didn’t bother with the glasses. She took out the bottle and uncapped it, whistling softly before she took a long pull straight from the bottle.

“Smooth,” she said, not even wincing. “Shit, this bottle probably costs a month of my rent.”

“It was my dad’s favorite,” Lena muttered. “My first drink was that scotch. He gave me a little sip when I was twelve. Lillian screeched at him for it.”

“She would, she’s a thundering bitch,” said Alex.

Alex sat down and passed Lena the bottle. She took a drink and passed it back, and they sat there in silence for a while, passing drinks back and forth.

“See I’m not a shrink or anything,” said Alex, “but if I had to analyze this situation I think what I see is you hurting Kara hoping that she’ll hurt you back and validate your feelings so you can stop feeling sad about her.”

“Fuck you,” Lena muttered.

“Not my type. Besides, bro code. My sister has dibs.”

Lena almost spat out a mouthful of scotch. “What the hell are you talking about?”

“You know when she’s doing the zoom zoom thing, she has a comms piece in her ear. I listen in on what she’s doing,” Alex began to imitate Kara in a grating falsetto. “Lena you have to jump!”

“What?”

“Remember that time she was going to let the entire city’s water supply be poisoned to save you?”

Lena took another pull before passing the bottle back.

“Yeah,” said Lena, not caring that her Irish accent was slipping out.

“Or that time she flew you to the DEO after Edge poisoned you?”

“She saves people all the time,” Lena protested.

“Yeah, but she doesn’t bridal carry them to safety and moon over them like a lovesick teenager and do the whole brushing their hair back thing. She says something corny and flies off. Unless it’s you. The whole world goes on pause when it’s you.”

“It can’t be.”

Alex took a way too long drink and looked at her.

“Did it never occur to you that she might have two secrets? That the one might compel her to keep the other?”

Lena rubbed at her eyes. The whisky was weighing heavily on her, and before she knew it, she was sobbing.

To her utter shock, Alex rubbed her back.

“Here’s what we do. You and me go get Myriad,”

“I’m too drunk to drive.”

“Then call your chauffeur, you spoiled rich brat,” Alex snapped, “and we go get Myriad and we go back to the DEO. You apologize and you and Kara talk this out, and you remember that if you ever physically harm my sister again I actually will shoot you.”

“Also,” said Lena. “You and I. You and I will go get Myriad, not you and me.”

Lena yanked the bottle back and finished it.

“Okay. Okay fine, let’s-“

There was a double thud as boot heels hit the balcony, a sound Lena had long grown used to. She and Alex both watched as Kara slid the balcony door open and swept into the penthouse, cape flaring majestically behind her.

God she was so pretty, and so handsome. She was like a brave knight in some fairytale, head bowed and jaw set like she was marching to a battle she wasn’t sure she could win.

Lena’s chest ached.

“We need to talk,” Kara intoned. “I’m not going to hurt you anymore, but I can’t let you do something you’ll regret forever. I…”

She trailed off as she saw a very drunk Alex sitting next to a very drunk Lena Luthor, the pair sitting against Lena’s kitchen cabinets and dishwasher, respectively, having clearly finished off the empty bottle of scotch that sat between them.

“What the hell?” said Kara.

“Did she just cuss?” said Alex.

“She did,” said Lena.

“What is this? What are you two doing? Alex, is that your gun?”

“Yeah,” said Alex. “I’m gonna get an Uber so you two can talk this out.”

“What?” Kara said, utterly baffled.

As she stood, Lena drew her legs up and hugged her knees. She looked away at first, then looked up and made herself meet Kara’s eyes.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered. “I’m sorry I hurt you. I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” she whimpered.

With a tenderness that belied her strength, Kara gently raised Lena to her feet. She’d kicked off her heels and Kara loomed over her, soft hands that could crush steel resting gently on her arms. Lena couldn’t bear the weight of her concern. Seeing the worry in Kara’s eyes, the unconditional compassion, hurt her as much as staring into the sun.

“I’m the one who should be sorry,” said Kara. “I’m the one who should apologize. You were right, Lena. I forced myself into your life and pushed past all your barriers but I never lowered mine. I tried to live in your heart but made you live like a guest in mine. You deserve better.”

“I don’t want better,” Lena whispered. “I want you.”

Kara went very still.

“You want me?”

“I’m so sorry I hurt you, Kara.”

Kara took a half step forward and pulled Lena into an embrace, guiding her into a hug. As those arms like stone walls curled around her and the cape sheltered her against Kara’s unnatural, fever-hot warmth, Lena choked back a hitching sob. It almost felt like it would be okay.

“It’s alright,” Kara whispered. “It’ll be okay. We can come back from this.”

“How? I hurt you, Kara.”

“I forgive you.”

“You can’t just-“

“Shhh,” Kara nuzzled against the crown of Lena’s head. “I’m Supergirl. I can do anything.”

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hypnobeauty · 1 day ago

Text

A Chance Encounter - a cho hyun-ju x reader fic (part 3)

summary: a story about how you and Hyun-ju met and the following years of your relationship. part 1 / part 2 cw: no use of y/n, reader is afab, angst, fluff, hyun is unsure of herself, pre-squid game, slice of life. a/n: hello! i'm back with another part. it is probably the biggest one so far. i wish they were my barbies and i could make them kiss. anyway! i have quite a bit of the story drafted, we'll probably get into the relationship next part. it is out of my control, i never imagined i'd write so many parts lol enjoy xx comments are always appreciated ♥ taglist: @strayteez3staner @dekiruxxx @jeongteen @sunnysurvives @3leni @etta-huracan @honeyhyunju @basoressia - comment if you’d like to be tagged.

part 3. a door left open

the uber ride was awkward at first, the kind of silence where neither of you seemed to know where to start. hyun-ju sat stiffly beside you, her hands folded neatly on her lap, her gaze fixed firmly on the window. you could see her shoulders tense, and you thought about how tired she must be.

you decided to break the silence. “so, are you in pain? be honest.”

she turned her head slightly, her expression unreadable. “a little,” she admitted. “mostly just… tired.”

“that’s fair,” you said, giving her a sympathetic smile. “surgery’s no joke. i remember when my cousin had his wisdom teeth out—he tried to eat a cheeseburger the same day. ended up crying into his fries. don’t be like him.”

that earned a small giggle from her, and you took it as a good sign.

“you’re lucky i didn’t let ha-neul come with us,” you added, leaning in conspiratorially. “she would’ve pestered you with questions about your nose—she’s obsessed with noses right now. it’s been her only personality trait for weeks.”

this time, hyun-ju chuckled, soft but genuine. “what’s wrong with her nose?”

“nothing,” you said, grinning. “she just decided it’s not ‘cute’ enough. she almost picked one that would’ve made her look like michael jackson. i had to intervene.”

that got a laugh out of her—small, but real. “michael jackson?”

you nodded, feigning solemnity. “i told her, ‘ha-neul, your nose is fine. it’s perfect. no glitter gloves necessary.’ she almost went through with it anyway.”

hyun-ju laughed a bit more, finally relaxing a bit. the sound eased something in your chest.

“you’re good at this,” she said after a moment, her voice quieter now.

“at what?”

“making people feel comfortable.”

you shrugged, feeling a little shy. “oh. i just think it’s nice to be kind. and honestly? helping you was no big deal. it’s what anyone would do.”

“not anyone,” she said, looking at you for the first time since you got in the car.

when the uber pulled up to her building, you hopped out with her, offering to help her up to her apartment “do you need help getting upstairs?”

she shook her head firmly, already reaching for the door handle. “no, it’s fine. i can manage.”

“okay,” you said, “at least let me give you my number. if you need anything, just text me, okay?”

hyun-ju hesitated for a moment, then nodded slowly, her eyes flickering with something unreadable. you exchanged numbers, and she disappeared into her building while you climbed back into the car.

later that night, as she sat on her couch, her phone buzzed.

hey, it’s me. i hope you’re feeling better. please keep me updated, and don’t hesitate to ask for help. you deserve it too.

she read it almost immediately. you watched the little “read” notification appear at the bottom of the screen. but no reply came.

hyun stared at the message for a long time, her fingers hovering over the keyboard. she typed out a reply, then deleted it. typed another, then deleted that too. nothing felt right. nothing felt good enough. finally, she locked her phone and set it down,

as the uber pulled away from hyun-ju’s building, you leaned back in the seat, finally exhaling the tension you hadn’t realized you were holding. before you could fully settle, your phone buzzed in your pocket. ha-neul’s name lit up the screen.

“heeyy,” you answered, bracing yourself.

“what happened? you just disappeared! did i miss an emergency rhinoplasty?” her tone was playful but edged with curiosity.

you sighed. “no emergency. i just… ended up helping someone.”

“helping someone? who?”

you hesitated. “the woman from the waiting room. remember her, hyun-ju? she had just had surgery, and the clinic wouldn’t let her leave without someone to sign her out.”

there was a pause, then an incredulous laugh. “wait, so you ditched me for someone you barely know?”

“it wasn’t like that,” you said quickly. “she needed help, and no one else was there. i couldn’t just leave her.”

another pause, but this time, ha-neul’s tone softened. “you’re too nice for your own good, you know that?”

“maybe,” you admitted.

“and she’s pretty, isn’t she?” ha-neul’s teasing edge was back.

you laughed, flustered. “i mean… i guess? that’s not the point.”

there was a beat of silence on the line. then, she snorted. “well, i didn’t know you were into girls.”

“what?” you sputtered.

“oh, don’t act surprised. i knew it since that day,” she teased mercilessly.

“to be honest,” you admitted, “me neither.”

“oh my god, you are so into her! i knew it! since the first time we saw her, i knew something was up.”

“i’m not into her,” you said, though your voice didn’t sound as convincing as you’d hoped.

“sure, sure,” she said, dragging out the words. “you’re just playing knight in shining armor for no reason at all.”

you rolled your eyes but smiled despite yourself. “goodbye, ha-neul.”

“oh, this isn’t over. i’m going to interrogate you later.”

you hung up with a laugh, shaking your head. from that day on, ha-neul teased you mercilessly—she found a way to always bring up hyun-ju, teasing you about how you’d never been so straightforward with anyone before, and even your friends got in on it after she spilled the story at dinner the following night.

the only problem? hyun-ju never replied.

you sent her a series of messages over the next week:

hey, how are you feeling today? let me know if you need anything.

i live close by—it’s no trouble at all.

two days later:

hey, stranger! ha-neul had her surgery today and looked worse than you, haha.

sorry, i didn’t mean to say you looked bad, just… well, bruised. are you okay?

hyun brought you up in therapy the following week, sitting across from her therapist—a kind, middle-aged woman who specialized in lgbtq+ mental health.

“i met someone,” hyun said hesitantly, her hands fidgeting in her lap.

her therapist’s face lit up. “that’s wonderful, hyun-ju. tell me about her.”

“she’s… nice,” hyun said, struggling to find the words. “she helped me after my surgery. we talked a little. she’s funny.”

“and how do you feel about her?”

hyun hesitated, then shrugged. “i don’t know. it feels… weird. like, she sees me. as me. and that’s good, but it’s scary too.”

her therapist nodded thoughtfully. “it sounds like you’re afraid of being vulnerable.”

hyun wasn’t sure what to say, so her therapist continued. “are you planning to stay in touch with her?”

“i think so,” hyun said cautiously. “but it’s scary. what if i say the wrong thing? what if i ruin it?”

her therapist smiled gently. “relationships—friendships, too—are about taking risks. you don’t have to have all the answers or the perfect words. just being honest and showing up is enough. let her in a little and see what happens.”

hyun left the session feeling lighter, more hopeful.

but when the messages from you kept coming, her anxiety crept back in.

each time her phone buzzed, she felt a pang of guilt. she typed out replies over and over, but nothing felt good enough. her fear of saying the wrong thing left her paralyzed, so she said nothing at all.

three days after the last message:

i’m starting to get worried, hyun-ju. just let me know if you’re fine.

another day:

i pass by your building every day on my way to work. should i stop by?

and finally:

hey, hyun-ju. did something happen? sorry if i came on too strong—i was genuinely worried about you.

i can see you’re reading these, but you never reply… i get it. i’ll leave you alone now. sorry if i made you uncomfortable.

after that, the chat stayed silent. when she received your last message, guilt and regret gnawed at her. she wanted to scream. to hit something. to do anything but face the truth: she had let fear win again.

in her next therapy session, when the doctor asked about you, hyun-ju lied.

“it… didn’t work out,” she said quickly, not meeting her therapist’s eyes. “she probably realized we’re too different.”

the therapist gave her a kind smile but didn’t press further. “that’s okay, hyun-ju. not every connection works out. what matters is that you tried, and you allowed yourself to open up, even if only for a moment.”

hyun-ju nodded, but her stomach churned. she couldn’t bring herself to admit the truth—that she hadn’t replied to a single message.

you stared at the chat for a long time after sending that last message. the little grey avatar beside her name felt cold, distant—you wished she had a profile pic. your own days moved forward, though you found yourself thinking of her often. you reread your messages to her, trying to pinpoint where you’d gone wrong. even ha-neul, who had teased you endlessly at first, stopped mentioning her after seeing how the silence weighed on you.

life went on. but hyun-ju had awakened in you feelings you had never taken seriously before and now you couldn’t help feeling like something had been left unresolved.

a month later, you were standing in line at your favorite café, eyes scanning the pastry display as you tried to choose something to pair with your cappuccino.

unbeknownst to you, at a table near the window, hyun-ju sat with her notebook, calculating the cost of her next procedure. she sipped her coffee absentmindedly, the barista’s voice barely registering as they called out a name—your name.

her pen froze mid-stroke. it wasn’t a common name. could it really be you? as she told herself it wasn’t, she heard your laugh, warm and unmistakable. her head snapped up, and there you were, joking with the barista as they handed you a cup and a paper bag.

hyun-ju stared, her heart pounding. you thanked them and turned toward the door, completely unaware of her. her legs moved before her mind could catch up. one moment she was sitting; the next, she was standing in front of you, her hand gripping your arm.

you had just reached the door when you felt a hand on your arm and a soft voice behind you saying your name. you turned, startled, and found yourself in front of her.

“can w—can we talk?” she asked, her voice low but firm. “please.”

you looked up from her hand—her nails were painted a soft blush pink and you made a mental note to ask her what nail polish it was—, and that familiar floral scent reached your nose. her expression was a mix of hope, fear, and determination.

face-to-face with hyun-ju, you smiled softly. “of course.”

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dyingswanpavlova · 11 hours ago

Text

"Your girl" - Part 7 | The Salesman x Reader

Summary: If he's so bad, then why do you crave him so much? You crave him enough to let him be your first.

Warnings: dead dove do not eat, kidnapping, mentions of sexual abuse and other traumatic events in the past, numbness, helplessness, violence, threatening, mentions of blood, mentions of murder and rape, body issues, trauma talk, scars, stockholm syndrome, forced relationship, unhealthy relationship, depression, manipulation, mentions of sexual activities and desires, smut, oral sex, (rough) sex, penetration, unprotected sex, degradation kink, not beta-read, if I've missed any please tell me! mdni 18+!

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6

You didn't know what real desire feels like, until you felt it.

Until you felt him.

And you wanted him, as much as you hated him.

The moment his lips crashed against yours, it felt like nothing you had ever felt before.

Sure, you had been kissed before. Once.

The loser has to seduce the shy girl.

But that didn't count. Or even if it did, it didn't matter to you. Because nothing that happened before that kiss seemed to matter.

A part of you expected his kiss to be gentle - he had made a promise to you after all - but there was hardly any gentleness in his touch.

The first second after your lips met had been a soft, tentative caress. Gentle and careful, as if to test the waters. You lay stiffly underneath him, unsure what to really do. You almost felt awkward, but that didn't mean you wanted it to stop. Quite the opposite.

The gentleness felt...almost forced on his part. You already knew he wasn't the soft type, but for you, he tried.

Until he didn't. And eventually his mouth took control of yours.

You didn't mind.

His lips moved against yours more urgently, the tip of his tongue caressing your lower lip and trying to part your lips, demanding entry.

When you finally gave in to his silent demand, slowly and carefully, he took full advantage of that and slid his tongue in your mouth, participating in a sinful dance with your own.

You were still stiff, still shy, still...unsure. And he felt it.

He pulled back, just enough to murmur against your lips. "Open your mouth wider for me, princess."

Princess. That was new. At least you weren't Hana anymore. Or at least not in that moment.

You reluctantly obeyed and with a low groan you felt his tongue push deeper against yours, harder, more demanding.

You almost gasped in surprise, but again, you didn't mind.

It felt so...

So...

And you were still stiff. A part of you almost felt like burying yourself under a pile of non-existence for being so complicated.

But again, he didn't seem to get angry or even frustrated. Instead he slowly pulled his hand back and tipped your chin up with his fingertips.

"Stop thinking so much. Just do whatever feels right. I promise you, I'm not going to laugh or hurt you. I promised you something and I meant it." His voice was softer than you had ever heard it before and it made something inside of you break.

You wanted him. You wanted him so terribly and the thought scared you like nothing else.

God, when he was being gentle like this, you wanted him even more. It made you go near insane with desire and heartbreak, because you could never have him. Could never have this version of him.

He was the man who kidnapped you, not your lover.

The man who slapped you, not the man who kissed you.

But, shit, he kissed you. And you wanted nothing more than exactly that. Maybe even for the rest of your life.

You were always a romantic at heart.

Hopeful and yet hopeless.

"Okay." You whispered softly and nervously nibbled on your lower lip. "I...I just..."

"I know." He whispered and gently ran his thumb over your cheek. "But that's what I'm here for. I'll guide you."

The next thing you realized was how he pressed you against his wardrobe. You had no idea how you even made it across the hallway and to his bedroom, but somehow you did.

He grabbed your wrists and pinned them above your head, leaving you helpless and at his mercy. But you didn't care.

In fact it made you want him all the more.

The sounds he made while his tongue delved deeper into your mouth made the dampness between your legs increase tenfold.

His hands slowly slid down your arms and over your shoulders, until he reached your waist and then he stopped. His touch was so gentle, almost careful, like he was touching a delicate bird and was afraid it might fly away.

"Turn around." He whispered against your lips. You hesitated for a second, but eventually obeyed, with a slowness that almost made him growl in frustration.

His fingers found the zipper of your dress, impatiently tugging at it, when-

He exhaled in even more frustration when he felt your hand reach for his wrist, stopping him in his attempt to skillfully and swiftly undress you.

"What?" He bit out.

You opened your mouth and closed it several times. How would you tell him? Should you? Or should you just show him?

You were almost sure he was going to be so repulsed that he'd go and find himself a second girl in no time.

The thought made something inside of you die.

"Can I just...lie on my back?" You whispered.

He frowned, but he was a clever man and he immediately caught on the fact that something wasn't like it was supposed to be. But since he was something akin a gentleman who'd only beat you, not force your clothes off you or rape you, he had never seen you naked before. And suddenly you felt incredibly insecure.

"What is this about?" He asked in a softer tone. "Are you nervous?"

"Yes." You said quietly. "But that's not the reason."

Instead of answering, he tilted his chin down and his lips met the back of your neck. The shiver that punched through your body and the sound that left your lips were both feral.

"I know." He whispered. "But I'll make you forget about it soon."

"You...You don't understand." You finally gasped out. "It's...You won't want me any longer."

That made him pause and he slowly pulled his head back. His frown got deeper and there was something else in his expression now, something like confusion and a hint of anger.

"What are you talking about?"

You fought with yourself, trying to come up with something to say, something to do, something to explain, but no.

Instead you simply released his wrist.

His frown stayed in place, but eventually he began to move again and you felt his fingertips tickle the skin of your back when he moved to pull the zipper down. Another hard shiver ran through your body and you closed your eyes. Your forehead tightly pressed against the wardrobe, you waited. Waited for him to recoil in disgust. To push you away and call out God, it was all for nothing.

But the call never came.

Instead he was silent for a long moment and you felt his gaze burn holes through your body.

"Who did this?"

He sounded calm - no, like he was desperately trying to stay calm, maybe for your sake. You couldn't yet tell if he was repulsed or if maybe he was trying to act like he wasn't.

The faint trace of the scar was subtle, but still evident, even after all these years. A cruel reminder that you would never be free of your past. Of the pain. Sometimes you felt like you were made of pain far more than of flesh and blood.

"My mother." You said very quietly, unable to open your eyes yet.

His fingertips followed the contour of the scar in a touch so soft that you barely even felt it. But you did feel it. It immediately made you shiver and gasp.

That was nothing.

The moment you felt his lips brush over the skin of your back, slowly following the same line, you inhaled sharply. Breathlessly.

There was not enough air to breathe.

Your hands were pressed against the wardrobe tightly and you felt your legs shake.

This was enough to make your mind go hazy and your head dizzy. If this already drove you insane like that, you couldn't tell if you'd even be able to have sex with him. Or if you'd slowly float off into non-existence.

This was better than life.

A soft whimper came over your lips the second his tongue flicked out to taste your skin.

"Oh God." You moaned breathlessly.

Good, you thought with the little mind you had left to think. Good. He isn't repulsed.

"Your mother." He whispered, without ever stopping his ministrations. It made you tense, but you listened in silence. "Your mother. Is she still alive?"

You kept your eyes closed and nodded.

A low hum came over his lips.

"Good."

A slow frown formed on your face, but you didn't dare to speak now. You wouldn't have done anything if it risked to stop him from what he was doing.

"And that man? Your neighbor? Is he still alive?"

You slowly shook your head.

"Too bad." He whispered against your skin. "I would have loved to take care of him.”

That made your head perk up and you looked over your shoulder, looking at him with something that was equally horrified as it was…admiring.

“What are you talking about?” You whispered softly.

He nodded. “What do you think? You’re my girl. I take care of my girl. And no one gets to hurt you. No one besides me.”

His words sent a warm shiver down your spine. You knew it wasn’t exactly healthy or…good. But it felt good. And you couldn’t help but feel that certain warmth in your body increase.

The way he spoke of you, with such possessiveness, it awakened something in you of which you never before knew you had that in you.

“But they hurt me in the past.” You whispered, as though this was a normal conversation.

“Doesn’t matter”, he whispered back, “they still hurt you. And anyone who did, will pay.”

You wanted to respond, wanted to express anything, but you didn’t have the time. He spun you around so swiftly and effortlessly that you immediately forgot what you had even been talking about. You stumbled backwards until your legs hit the bed and then he slowly pushed you back. Gently, like everything he did that night.

Gently.

Your heart skipped several beats as you stared up at him like that. Your hair was messy and your face flushed, your lips still swollen from the greedy, demanding kiss and your dress hung loosely around your shoulders. But your eyes, your eyes, they held a special kind of expression that night.

Hunger.

It was hunger.

A hunger you hadn’t ever felt before. So powerful, it was all-consuming. Your mind was occupied with him, unable to focus on anything else than his delicious smirk. The one you had grown to…

Oh God, don’t even think that.

“You look so beautiful.” He whispered in a husky voice. His hands wandered up to slowly undo his tie. The sight was enough to stir even more desire in you, forcing you to shift on the bed, your impatience growing. Your heart was aching with how handsome he was.

If only you could have him like that every night.

He slowly pulled the tie off and it fell to the ground, before he slowly moved to undo the buttons of his shirt. That was when you realized that you would either sleep with him that night or die.

Because that was how it felt.

Like you would die without him. Crumble and suffocate.

Your eyes followed the movement of his hands as he slowly shrugged his shirt off, revealing his chiseled, marble chest. The sight made your brows furrow and you did something oh-so cheeky. You bit your lip. You had to, otherwise you would have probably moaned.

“What is it, sweet girl?” He purred as he slowly moved onto the bed, hovering right above you. “Do you like what you see?”

You closed your eyes when his hot breath kissed your ear. Then you nodded and bit your lip again.

“Good.” He breathed. “Then show me something I’ll like as well.”

He hooked his fingertips under the material of your dress and attempted to pull it down, when…

He hesitated. For a moment you were almost sure you had done something terribly wrong again and you were about to get punished. You held your breath and expected him to swing his fist at you.

“Can I?”

Your eyes widened almost comically in surprise. Your mouth fell open and you nodded.

The sight of you so surprised and speechless made him laugh.

God, what a beautiful sound.

If only you could hear it every day.

If only, if only, if only.

Your heart ached again. But you quickly pushed these thoughts aside. Now wasn’t the time. You could mourn your non-existent, fantasy relationship by the time the next morning came.

That moment was for you and him.

And right then, he was there. And he was real.

And he was gentle.

He pulled the dress down torturously slow, his gaze eagerly following every inch of skin that was revealed.

You felt so naked, so exposed, so…so warm under his gaze.

You swallowed thickly and kept your focus on his eyes the whole time. It was like he suddenly was a different person.

A husband type of guy.

You closed your eyes, forcefully trying to suppress these kind of dangerous thoughts. But it was impossible. You were immediately certain.

You were in love with him.

And it didn’t matter how many water bowls he’d make you lick on the floor, how many degrading names he called you and how many marks he gave you.

You were in love with him.

Your eyes shot open and you looked at him with something akin to pain, but your confusion grew when, for probably the first time, he didn’t immediately met your gaze. His gaze was fixed on your body, firm and yet soft, like glue. He didn’t move it away, just kept it roaming up and down your body. It was enough to make you shiver.

“God.” He whispered huskily. “God, you’re perfect.”

He slowly looked up to meet your eyes again and when he did, the tiniest frown grew on his face.

“What is it? You look like you’ve seen a ghost. Am I going too fast?”

You just stared at him, unable to say anything. The way his eyes were soft, the way his voice was, the way he seemed so concerned.

And there we go again.

You felt tears well up in your eyes and you tried desperately to swallow the lump in your throat.

His expression immediately darkened, mixed with surprise and something else. He immediately sat up, moving his hips away from yours.

“You’re not ready.” He said stiffly. “You don’t want to. Fuck, I should have known.”

He attempted to get up and, judging by his reaction, probably flee, but he stopped when he felt your hand on his wrist, holding him back.

“No”, you gasped out quickly. “No, don’t leave. Please.”

He stared at you, his expression troubled. “But you…”

“I want it.” You whispered. “I really do.”

He shook his head. “No.” He said firmly. “Listen, I won’t punish you when you say no now. I don’t want it to be like this. The thought of doing this, when you don’t really want me, it…”

“I do!” You propped yourself up onto your elbows and nodded quickly. “I do.” You whispered. “That’s not why I’m crying. I was just…”

You briefly closed your eyes, before you continued.

“I’m just complicated.”

He didn’t seem all too convinced, but the frown on his face signaled that he wouldn’t try to run off again.

“Yes.” You whispered softly. “I was just overwhelmed. But I want it. Please, don’t…Don’t go now.”

His frown deepened, but he slowly leaned back down.

“You don’t have to do this.” He said quietly. “You don’t have to endure this, to please me. Not this.”

You slowly shook your head. You couldn’t tell him the real reason.

That you were grieving the relationship you could have had with him, in another time, another universe. That you felt like you were falling in love with him…or that you already were.

You opened your mouth to come up with another excuse, but when words failed you yet again, you did something else. You tilted your head up and your lips met his. Soft and tentative, careful and gentle, but it was you who kissed him.

Bold girl.

He hesitated for a moment as if to make sure you really meant it.

It truly surprised you how much he seemed to care about your consent. So far, a small part of you had always believed he’d snap once he got impatient enough and he’d just take what he wanted, not caring if you cried or begged or pleaded.

But that couldn’t have been further from the truth.

And still you couldn’t help but ask yourself if this was solely about the promise that he made you. Because somehow, under all his insanity, there was something like an honorable man. A man who kept his promises.

But you tried your hardest to lock these thoughts out.

To lock any thoughts out.

Tonight was about you and him.

The moment you felt his tongue part your lips again, that was exactly what you thought about.

You and him.

Him.

And suddenly the whole world seemed to fade into nothingness, because all that mattered was the way his tongue felt against yours and the sound that left his lips when you wrapped your arms around him. Your hands slowly wandered up the skin of his back, up to his shoulders. You tried to touch every inch of him and memorize it in your mind, just in case you never got to feel him like that again.

You were pretty sure you were doing something wrong, because you had no idea what you were doing, but you tried to listen to his words and just do what felt right.

He finally pulled your dress off of you, leaving you almost bare, in nothing but a pair of panties. The cold air hit your skin and you felt another shiver run down your spine.

And another one when his hand ran up your stomach.

And another, even harder, one when he gently cupped your breast in his hand.

You were a shivering, stuttering mess underneath him and all you could focus on was the way his hands felt against your skin – warm and gentle, soft and yet demanding.

He moaned against your lips as he gently squeezed your breast in his hand, before he slowly moved it further up to your shoulder, then down your arm. And eventually, oh God, eventually he took your hand in his. He intertwined your fingers and pressed your hand down against the mattress with a gentleness that equaled a breath of air.

He ground his hips down against yours, a movement that made a flash of electricity shoot through your veins. He was so hard. Hard and ready to ruin you.

And God, you wanted him to.

“Are you nervous?” He breathed without even stopping to kiss you. You tried to pull your head back to speak, but he didn’t let you and that was enough to make you moan as well.

“Yes.” You whispered.

“Just relax.” He murmured softly. “Let me take care of you, my sweet, darling girl.”

He slowly withdrew from the kiss, which immediately left you craving more, but you had no time to think about it, because the next moment you felt him press gentle kisses all over your neck. Your head lolled to the side and you exhaled a soft sigh. You didn’t even stop shivering any more.

You wanted to pull him closer, you wanted to beg Please don’t stop, but your lips didn’t obey. Your nervousness was far more powerful than you initially thought.

As if on cue, he pulled his head back, looked down at you and whispered: “If I do something you don’t want, tell me, alright?”

You managed a weak nod, silently begging him to continue.

He put on a cocky smirk and went back to kissing your neck, ever so slowly making his way further down. Just when you thought he couldn’t do anything to make you feel better than that, you felt his lips brush along your bare breast and his tongue darted out and left a slow, lazy path over your hard nipple.

You had no idea you could make such sinful sounds.

“P-please.” You whimpered.

He grinned victoriously. “Please what, sweet girl? Please stop?”

“No!”

He laughed and shook his head. “Don’t worry, sweetness. Just lean back and let me do the rest. I’ll make you feel good, I promise.”

He resumed his actions and you fell back against the pillow, your eyes shut. Only then you realized how tightly you had your arms wrapped around him. One of your hands slowly wandered up and down his back again, while the other one tangled in his soft hair. You let out a soft sigh when he moved over to your other breast, doing the most wicked things with his mouth.

You were so breathless and constantly gasping for air, it left your mouth dry.

And then it got even harder to breathe.

He slowly kissed his path down your stomach, making you shiver and writhe in anticipation and agony.

“Oh God, what are you doing?” You whispered breathlessly. You wanted to call out his godforsaken name, but he didn’t have one. So instead you ran your hand through his hair again.

He hummed against your skin as he teasingly licked a slow path down your stomach.

“You’ll see, princess.” He whispered softly.

By the time he reached the edge of your panties, you were no more than a puddle. A helpless mess, desperate over everything he did.

Over him.

He took the material of your panties between his teeth and slowly tugged them down.

“Oh, God!”

You had a feeling like something inside of you was throbbing.

You had been wet before. Felt that nervous twitch, whenever the bad, wicked thoughts entered your mind.

But nothing ever came close to this.

When he slowly freed you of your underwear, you were sure you were about to faint, until-

Fucking hell.

He used his teeth the entire way and when he finally managed to pull them off, he bit down on them and you were sure you saw his tongue dart out. You lay there like a statue, your eyes wide and your cheeks flushed as you witnessed how he tasted the piece of lace that had just covered your soaking wet, most private part.

All you could do was stare, your mouth wide open, as you felt the dampness slowly turn into a pool of arousal.

He slowly pulled them out of his mouth and tossed them aside, his eyes fixed on your own eyes.

He hummed out a soft: “I knew you were delicious.”

You opened and closed your mouth several times, but all that came out was nothing.

He smirked again, but it wasn’t even close to mocking. It was more something like…

Satisfaction.

“Are you ready for me, princess?”

Another weak nod later, you felt him lean closer. The second his hot breath hit your core, you let out a needy, breathless whimper.

You had no idea what that felt like, but judging from the way simply his breath on you felt…

“Keep looking at me.” He whispered. “I want to see your eyes, when I taste you.”

And then you finally felt it. His mouth enveloped you in a way you had only ever seen in videos and you reaction came the same instant.

You tried to keep your eyes open, but they fell shut as if on cue.

And the moment you felt his tongue against you, you were done for.

He began to slowly move it, circle your clit and gently suck on the sensitive skin.

Any semblance of composure left your body and you moaned. And moaned. And moaned.

“Oh…Oh God.” You breathed out, instinctively tightening your hand in his hair.

He let out a soft moan when you did and the sound made you moan in response. The soft vibrations of his humming against your skin nearly made your eyes roll back. You wanted to look at him. But God, it was hard to even breathe.

You didn’t know how he did it. But he did things to you, things that made you feel a tightness in you, like it was all too much and also not even close to enough.

He kept running his tongue over your wet folds, again and again, going from gentle and slow to hard and quick. But the way he sucked on your skin was what made you tremble and ache from the inside.

You were close, you could tell. And you didn’t even need to imagine the most heinous things for it.

“Oh God, please, please, oh God, please!”

He didn’t make any attempts to tease you or stop. He grasped your thighs tightly and propped your legs over his shoulders, pulling you even closer. He hummed again and moved and moved and moved and-

“Oh God!”

You inhaled sharply, tensing up so painfully hard. And then you became still. The pleasure rolled over you in hot waves, as a warm, white light overshadowed everything else in your mind.

You never before came so hard in your entire life.

When you finally, slowly came back down from your high, you carefully lifted your head from the pillow, only to find him already staring up at you. He ever so slowly pulled his head back and looked up at you in awe.

And you stared down at him in fascination.

The devil took over your body, because you suddenly felt unable to wait any longer. You needed to feel him. You impatiently reached for him and pulled him back up, until you felt him pressed against you again.

His hardness achingly straining against his pants, pressed against your warm wetness.

“That was so…God, that was so…”

His lips curved up into a slow smile, but he seemed just as breathless.

Did he get even harder?

You let out a shuddery breath and crashed your lips against his again. He felt so warm on top of you, so safe, that you momentarily forgot that you were so scared of him at times.

You forgot that he kidnapped you and you forgot that he slowly broke your soul.

He also made you Hotteok and he made you cum, didn’t he?

Effortlessly.

You needed him. And you were going to die if you didn’t feel him soon.

“Are you still sure?” He breathed and leaned down to nip at your earlobe.

You nodded breathlessly and bit back another moan.

“I am.” You whispered softly.

And the next moment, you felt his hand slowly reach down. Heard his belt unbuckle and fall to the ground. The sound made something inside of you ache with even more impatience.

You used the small moment to look up at his face. His hair was a mess and his eyes were focused on your body, while he reached down and slowly pushed his pants down. When he felt you staring at him, he met your gaze and raised his brows.

“What?” He murmured.

You suddenly realized you had never seen him so…vulnerable before.

He was still confident, still in control. But something about the way he looked and spoke had softened to an extreme degree. It was like sex was something important to him.

Maybe he wouldn’t just fuck you once and then instantly get rid of your body.

Maybe he would actually keep you around.

And you couldn’t tell if that was good or bad.

You stared at him for a long moment, then you shook your head.

“Nothing.” You whispered. “I’m just…”

“Nervous?”

You nodded.

He hummed softly. Before you could look down to catch a glimpse of him in his bare form, he gently tipped up your chin and narrowed his eyes thoughtfully.

“We can still stop.”

“I don’t want to stop.” Your voice sounded more confident now. More like someone you didn’t know, but slowly grew to like.

He looked at you for a long moment, before he eventually released your chin. You slowly tilted your face down, your gaze following the sharp contour of his hard body.

He didn’t seem bothered at all by your staring. If anything, he seemed curious. Like he hadn’t been admired like that in long.

Your gaze stopped on his hardened length, thick and long enough to ravage you and throbbing. He was obviously more than eager, but he held himself back without flinching. You were almost disbelieving of such calmness.

You licked your lips as your gaze slowly glided back up to meet his eyes. The look in them hadn’t changed. Determined and ready. But still soft.

You knew at some point he would snap back into that other persona, into the cruel and scary man that he so often was.

But all you saw now was this softness.

And that was all you cared about.

It looked like he was about to ask again, to make sure again, but the look in your eyes stopped him.

You were nervous. And trembling. And even a tad bit scared.

But you were no less determined than he was.

He slowly pressed himself closer, slowly rubbing himself against you. A soft whimper came over your lips and he seemed to have to hold himself back from making any sounds.

He reached up his free hand and gently cupped your cheek. And then he slowly pressed forward.

Carefully. Gently. Inch by inch.

His eyes stayed focused on yours the entire time, checking your reaction.

The moment you felt him press against you, press inside you, you exhaled a small breath.

It was…

Painful. Mostly painful.

You bit your lip to suppress the hiss of pain which still found its way past your mouth. He hesitated to move forward, but eventually continued.

“Does it hurt a lot?” He whispered.

It was more of a pressure, feeling as tight as a coiled spring, ready to snap.

“Yes.” You whispered. “But I don’t want you to stop.”

He clenched his jaw and slowly pushed forward. It was like he was two people at once. One wanted to be careful and gentle and not hurt you, while the other one seemed all too eager to thrust forward and ravage you like a beast in heat.

But he held himself back.

You were sure it was just for tonight.

But he did it. For you.

And you needed him even more, because of that.

A sharp pain shot through your body and you released a soft sound, a mixture of a moan and a sob. But a few seconds later the pain finally dissolved. And then you felt something else.

“God, you’re so tight.”

He slowly began to move again, going slow and careful at first. You felt more and more of him, until you finally felt all of him.

Your nails dug into the skin of his back and you inhaled sharply when he thrust into you harder than before.

Something was off, you could tell. He clenched his jaw tightly and stared down at you with furrowed brows.

And suddenly it hit you.

He was holding himself back for your sake, you knew that.

But you had no idea how hard it was for him to hold himself back.

He had promised you a sweet, gentle, loving first time and that was what he wanted to give you. But what you saw behind his eyes was something akin to pain. He wanted to go harder. He was desperate to.

He was obviously desperate to do many things.

“You can go harder.” You whispered, almost reassuringly.

He shook his head.

“It’s alright.” You whispered again. “The pain passed.”

“That’s not the problem.” He whispered as he rolled his hips against you deliciously, forcing a moan over your lips.

“Then what is?” You breathed out.

“If I go harder now, then I can’t stop. I won’t.” He whispered and gently cupped your cheek in his hand again.

Almost involuntarily, you closed your eyes and leaned into his touch, before you met his gaze again. Now you were filled with even more determination.

“Yes, you can.” You whispered, sounding almost firm. “Go harder. Just a little.”

He seemed unsure, but eventually he did. He moved harder against you, more urgently, but not quite rough yet. Still, his eyes fell shut and a moan fell from his lips.

A particular hard thrust as well as his reaction caused you to moan in return and close your eyes as well.

His head fell forward and he buried his face in his your neck. His harsh breaths made you shiver and sigh.

“I made a promise to you. And I’ll keep it.”

That made you gently tangle your hand in his hair again and pull back, just enough to look at him.

There was something in your eyes that made him pause.

“What?” He murmured breathlessly.

You looked up at him with wide eyes and whispered: “I want you to fuck me.”

His brows furrowed. “I am-“

“No.” You breathed out. “I want you to fuck me the way you want.”

He stared down at you for a long moment.

“But I might hurt you.”

You bit your lip and shook your head, gently cupping his face in your palms.

“I said, fuck me.”

And immediately something in his expression changed. A part of the lunatic who had murdered a man came back. It was scary, really.

But you weren’t scared.

You were fascinated.

And oh, you were aroused.

He started moving harder against you, thrusting deeper into you and then he released a low growl.

“Are you giving me orders”, he breathed, “or are you begging me?”

You gasped for air when he thrust into you even harder. The ache between your legs got worse, the need deeper. And his pace more and more punishing.

“Begging.” You gasped out. “I’m begging you.”

“Then beg me.” He hissed. As if to emphasize his point, he began to move even faster against you.

“Please.” You moaned out.

“Please what?”

“Please fuck me.” You whispered breathlessly. You felt your face flush so hard, it was almost painful, but for the first time in your life you didn’t care. You said the word, because you wanted to say it. And you let him fuck you, because you damn well wanted to.

And suddenly the spell was broken.

“Fuck. Oh God. Please. Fuck me.”

The harder he moved, the more intense that feeling inside of you became.

You never came before from the feeling inside of you, only ever by stimulating your clit.

This was new, it was intense, it was insane, it was-

“Who are you?” He hissed out in a voice that was near furious.

“Your girl.” You gasped out without hesitation. “I’m your girl.”

“Good girl.” He leaned his head down and gave you a long kiss, his tongue pressing into your mouth aggressively while he began to pound even harder into you.

Before you could protest (as if you would have) he pinned your wrists down against the mattress. You were completely at his mercy, you belonged to him and you were in love with him.

You were fucked.

“Who are you?” He bit down on your lip hard enough to draw blood.

You let out a pained moan and pressed your hips up against his.

He moaned into your mouth. “Good girl.”

Then he grabbed your thigh and yanked your leg over his waist, pressing himself even deeper into you. His movements were bordering on aggressive and your moans became louder and more and more breathless. Just like his own.

That was what had been missing back when he pressed into you so gently and carefully.

And you realized you never wanted to miss it again.

“Who are you?” He breathed out again.

“Your girl.” You gasped out.

He hummed and leaned down to bite down on your neck, only to soothe the bite with his tongue a moment later. “That’s right. My cumslut. My good girl. My whore. My princess.”

Each and every word that left his lips made you feel more and more wicked, more desperate to feel him deeper and harder, which you did.

He moved against you with a fervor that bordered on painful and you loved every second of it.

It was painful. But you suddenly realized what you never knew before.

There was a good kind of pain. It existed.

“Are you close, princess?” He breathed before he bit down on your earlobe, causing you to release a soft whine.

You tried to speak, but all that came out was moan, after moan, after moan. So you simply nodded.

He growled in response and pressed your wrists down even harder.

“I’m going to make a mess of you, princess.” He hissed. With a few quick, rough thrusts more, you felt your eyes roll back and your back arch off of the bed and against him.

If what you felt earlier had been an orgasm, you needed a new word for this.

The feeling was so hard and intense, it was almost unpleasant by how fucking good it was.

You wanted to cry and scream out his name, but all you could do instead was dig your nails into his skin, hard enough to scratch down to his blood.

He growled again and started moving so furiously that you felt like you were being torn apart, until you finally felt him twitch and throb inside you. The sounds he made were good enough to almost make you cum again and you watched with half-lidded eyes as he rode out his release, giving a few deep thrusts into you and releasing deep inside you.

Your body was still twitching and writhing underneath him. He kept his eyes closed and rested his forehead against yours. When he tried to pull back, you wrapped your legs around his waist.

“Wait.” You whispered breathlessly. “Not yet. Just…Can we just stay like that? Just for a moment?”

He slowly opened his eyes and met your gaze and to your great surprise…They were still soft. Even more so than before.

“Of course.” He whispered and buried his face in your neck. He slowly lowered himself back down on you, just enough so he wouldn’t crush you.

You were both breathing heavily and your hands were warm and damp with sweat.

“Was that alright for a first time?” He suddenly whispered.

And you did something that you hadn’t done in a while and you had been sure you wouldn’t ever again.

You smiled.

“Yes.” You whispered. “It was perfect.”

He pulled his head back and raised a brow. “Not too rough?”

You shook your head.

He hummed as he observed your smile for a moment.

“I held myself back.” He murmured. “I can’t be gentle next time.”

You looked at him with a soft expression and nodded.

“I know. I remember your words.”

He reached out a hand and gently touched your cheek.

“You should know one thing, darling.” He suddenly whispered.

Your eyes widened and you listened intently. Still, a part of you expected a low, painful blow.

But you couldn’t tell if it ever came.

His words left you torn.

“I’ll never let you go."

___________________________________________

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chrattho1 · 2 days ago

Note

chris fucking you senseless in the hotel in milan

LOVE THIS

505.

summary: your first trip as a couple,chris is going insane in italy air wanting nothing more than to fuck you crazy.

warnings: smuty smut,p in v,unprotected sex (dont),pet names(baby),dom!chris,no use of y/n.

“god im so tired” you spoke plopping down on the bed of your shared hotel room with chris,both of you just coming back from an event

but chris wasn’t tired. he was far from it. all he wanted to do was rip that black,tiny little skirt off of you.

you see the air in milan did something to him,from the moment you guys landed chris wanted to pin you down on the freshly made hotel room bed,and go at it for hours on end,he wanted to hear you scream,beg him for more,he also thought-what if the other guests’ on the floor hear them,but was quick to ignore that thought because he didn’t give a fuck.

his brothers were a floor up,he doesn’t know for what reason but he thanks whoever assigned them their rooms because he was sure,that once he got the chance to fuck you,the entire 5th floor would know.

“chris?” chris’ thoughts were cut off by you waving your hands in front of him,you who was still in the skirt,legs on top of each other as you sit on the edge of the bed,oh how much would he love to spread-

“chris oh my god pay attention” you spoke again trying to get chris out of his trance. “so i was sitting at the seat that was assigned to me and you will never guess who was next to-” you started rambling about some shit chris didn’t care about right now,he was quick to interrupt you.

“need you” he almost whispered,his voice filled with lust and need fr.

“what?” you ask him genuinely thinking you didnt hear him right.

that was when chris took matters into his own hands,he got up from the bed, grabbed your calfs from where you were, making you drop on your back on the bed,you hair all over the bed,chris quickly lowered himself to kiss you roughly,you smirk between the kiss loving this side of him.

he slipped his tongue,roaming it all over the insides of your mouth,making it meet your tongue. he stooped down to lay kisses on your neck, going all the way down to your exposed cleavage through the shirt.

“off. now” he spoke between marking one of your boobs,speaking holding the hem of shirt

your hands find a way through him to the buttons of your shirt,unbuttoning them as fast as you can,panting for air. as soon as those buttons were off chris took the very expensive shirt off and threw it somewhere.

he pulled back to look at the bra you were wearing, “fuck,wanted to see this all day” he groaned before getting back to your lips,hands sneaking behind to unbuckle the bra,and yet again throwing it off somewhere.

still kissing you,his hands roam around your now free breasts,squeezing them and teasing your nipples. he then starts to take his shirt off and gets to your boobs again,kissing and sucking on one while the other one was being played with.

“h-h-uh-chris-need you” you say in between breaths now “yeah? gotta be more specific baby” he spoke looking up at you from your tits

“need you,inside-of me-r-right now” you say firmly this time,making him nod

“its a shame you have to take this off,your ass looks phenomenal in it” chris says unbuttoning the button on your skirt,being met with the sight of your black laced panties. man he could cum right there.

chris’ breath hitched “wearing my favourite pair and not even telling me? baby c’mon” chris whines looking at you,your face already fucked out from all the teasing he has been doing.

he ditches his pants and boxers,his hard cock springing out like its been waiting for ages,pre cum leaking,tip red and swollen.

he comes up to your face,grabbing both of your hands from your sides and putting them in a hold in his fist,pinning you down to the bed. his free hand grabbing one of your thighs telling you to wrap them around his torso.

“now be loud for me huh?” chris said before thrusting all of him in you,not giving you any time to adjust to his size,and starts pumping in and out.

a loud whine leaves your mouth,in disbelief of how pleasurable this is. your eyes shutting instinctively,your head falling back.

“look at me” chris speaks between his heavy breaths and moans,his own eyes half closed in pleasure

“fuck-chris—fu” the bed quite literally moving with you guys,creaking on the wooden floor. both of your bodies slapping and making sounds that could be cinematic.

“yeah you like—-that-huh? like taking me all in?” chris speaks through his teeth,his voice betraying him and letting out a moan right after his question

“tell me how much you-like it” chris said in your ear, sounding almost pathetic because of how much he wanted to hear you say you liked it,and that sent a shiver down your spine,made you moan in a scream

“fuck-i lik-fuck—fuck like it so much baby” your hands still tied in chris’ fists,his knuckles turning white

“my god—look at you” he says speeding up,the room is filled with your whines ,pleads, groans and moans.

“gonna cu-cum chris-oh my god-oh my god-fuck-fuck—” you scream as you crash down with your orgasm,back arching,walls clenching around chris’ dick making a knot in his stomach.

“shit—shit-oh—shittt” he cums with the last few deep thrusts in you,crashing on top of you,letting go of your hands,your legs still wrapped around him lifelessly

about 5 minutes of heavy breathing and chris praising you into the skin of your neck,he pulls out,and lays to your side

“gonna fuck you like that in every country we step foot in” chris smiled at you,both of you looking like a mess.

his eyes fall between your thighs,his cum spilling out of you

“fuck would you look at that?” he lets out a chuckle,you put your hands on your face in embarrassment

“hey-hey baby thats fucking beautiful,thats also the hardest ive ever cum” he chuckles again holding your face in his hands now.

“you did so good for me,now lets get you cleaned up yeah?” you nod with a smile and watched as he picked up the phone provided in the hotel room and dialed up room service

“hey! could i get some wet and dry towels in room 505?”

a/n: wrote this in 20 minutes,didn’t proof read it yet so dont come at me with errors pleak😓

#chris sturiolo fanfic #christopher sturniolo #chris x reader #chris sturniolo #chris sturniolo smut #matt stuniolo fanfic #nick sturniolo #matt sturniolo #chris imagine #chris smut #matthew sturniolo #matt x reader #matt smut #sturniolo #sturniolo x reader #sturniolo smut #sturniolo triplets #nicolas sturniolo #sturniolo fanfic

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sound-of-scoups · 1 day ago

Text

Moth To A Flame | JJK & KMG | 03

Pairing: Jeon Jungkook x Female!Reader x Kim Mingyu Genre|tags: Idol!au, series, established relationship, infidelity, lots of angst, lots of drama, smut, maybe fluff. Word count: 15.8k + Rating: Explicit adult content (MINORS DNI). Chapter warnings: Angst at its finest, like, literally this is pure and raw angst (poor baby is going through it), mentions of Jungkook smoking, crying, everyone here needs therapy, mentions of Jungkook not handling the BTS hiatus very well, arguments, abuse of power by a superior (?). Lemme know if there's more. A/N: 1. Time to get some questions answered...; 2. As ARMY, it's so strange/painful, but at the same time, relieving, to write about the things that happened in 2022 with BTS, knowing that it's already 2025 and the war is over; 3. I have no idea when chapter four will come out, I decided it will be a surprise, so it can come out tomorrow or in two weeks hehe.

Summary: Four years ago, you crossed paths with a charming member of the K-pop group Seventeen during their tour stop in Osaka. The two of you shared three intense, unforgettable days before life took you in different directions. It was painful for both of you, but you knew you couldn’t take things any further and had to say goodbye. Now, back in Seoul for good, you’re in a new relationship with another idol: Jeon Jungkook—whose charm and stability make him everything you thought you wanted. You are very much in love with him, and as your connection deepens, it feels like your life is finally falling into place. That is, until you meet one of your boyfriend’s best friends and are stunned to discover it’s the same man you fell for in Osaka all those years ago. As buried emotions resurface and secrets begin to unravel, you find yourself torn between these two men, caught in a whirlwind of love and conflict, testing the boundaries of loyalty and the choices that could change everything.

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The moment you walked out of HYBE headquarters, your entire body seemed to spiral into a state of complete mania. You paced around the block for a few moments, overwhelmed by an intense urge to scream and laugh uncontrollably—all at the same time.

Your phone showed multiple missed calls from Jungkook, likely eager to know how the meeting had gone, but you just couldn’t bring yourself to answer any of them. You didn’t know how to tell him the news without sounding like you were on the brink of psychosis for reasons entirely unrelated to the happiness of landing the biggest opportunity of your career.

Instead, after minutes of aimlessly wandering the streets like someone who had just escaped from a psychiatric hospital, you made the only choice that felt right: you called your best friend.

“Wait,” Dahee said, holding up a hand to stop you mid-sentence, her steps faltering as if the physical pause could help her process everything you’d just unloaded on her. “Mingyu? As in Osaka Mingyu?”

You nodded, taking another lick of your strawberry ice cream. “Yep.”

Initially, you both met at your usual spot—a cozy restaurant downtown, tucked by a window that overlooked the bustling street. The aroma of barbecue wafted around you, blending with the soft clink of dishes and the murmur of voices. You and Dahee dove into a meal not much after, her excitement about her upcoming wedding filling the air immediately. She animatedly described the flowers, venues, and music with her eyes sparkling, and you simply couldn’t bring yourself to interrupt her with the chaos that inhabits your mind.

As the hours passed and you started walking together along the Han River, Dahee finally looked at you, curiosity shining in her eyes. With a gentle nudge, she asked what was going on with you. Her sincerity was unmistakable, and after a steadying breath, you began unraveling the turbulence of your life events, spilling every detail you’d been holding back all day.

Dahee’s expression after you finished telling her everything was like you’d sprouted two extra heads right there on the riverbank. She blinked a few times, processing each piece of information you’d just handed her. Finally, she shook her head, eyebrows raised.

“Oh my God,” she whispered, her voice barely above a gasp as she tugged you toward one of the benches along the shore, her hand gripping your arm tightly. “First of all, I’m hurt that you never told me that Mingyu from Osaka was the Kim Mingyu.”

“I couldn't, babe,” You shrugged, leaning back comfortably against the bench. “Seventeen's legal team made me sign an NDA. I couldn't even be telling you this.”

You felt a pang of frustration as you recalled the weight of that document, the way it had silenced your thoughts and feelings about everything that had happened four years ago between the two of you.

Dahee’s jaw dropped, her mouth opening and closing a few times before she finally found her voice. “An NDA? Seriously?”

You nodded, gaze shifting to the river, its calm surface contrasting sharply with the turmoil inside you. “I couldn’t say a word to anyone about what happened. I couldn’t reach out to him. Hell, I wasn’t even allowed to be in the same country as him for years.”

The words slipped out of you like a confession, each one weighted with the years of secrets you’d held inside, now finally spilling free.

The pain of knowing he had chosen this path remained buried deep within you. You still felt naive for believing in everything he had said and promised that morning before you went your separate ways. Four years had passed, and while you were no longer the person you once were, and thought the green light of forgiveness had already been lit, even if only on your end, it still hurted.

Out of the corner of your eye, you watched as Dahee studied your face, brows knitted together. “I thought NDA’S were just myths.”

“Oh, they’re real, all right,” you replied, a bitter smile touching your lips. “And terrifying.”

“How did they even ban you from being in the same country as him?” Dahee asked, her eyes wide with disbelief. “That is incredibly so unfair.”

“It was part of the NDA. They included a clause that forbade me from trying to contact him or even being in the same place as him for a certain period of time,” you said, taking another bite of your ice cream. “They wanted to protect his image, to keep the media from blowing anything out of proportion. To not make a big thing out of something insignificant.”

Those exact words that came out from his manager’s mouth, hitting you like a slap across the face and reverberating in your mind with an almost cruel precision for years. You could only guess that you were insignificant enough to be erased from his life, but important enough to warrant a whole legal agreement about it.

Probably what he thought too.

“I didn’t have a choice; it was either that or risk legal action.” You completed it.

Dahee stared at you, completely dumbfounded, her jaw slack as she tried to process what you’d just said. She leaned forward, resting her elbows on her knees, and buried her face in her hands for a moment before letting out a muffled groan.

“That’s insane. How do you even enforce something like that? Did they just expect you to… what? Erase him from your memory like he’s some kind of ghost?”

“Pretty much,” you replied bitterly, taking the last bite of your ice cream. “Until last year, at least.”

“That's why you didn't come back sooner,” she said softly, her eyes searching yours for reaffirmation.

You nodded, a rueful smile playing on your lips. “Yeah.”

Dahee let out a low whistle, leaning back against the bench. “Wow. That explains so much. And now, you’re telling me that the biggest opportunity of your career just so happens to be working with him? Talk about fate having a sick sense of humor, bestie.”

“Exactly," you muttered, dragging your hands down your face in exasperation. "It's like the universe is laughing at me. 'Oh, you're finally moving on? Cool, let me drop Mingyu right back into your life for funsies.'”

“And no one at HYBE thought this might be, I don’t know, a tiny bit problematic for the two of you?”

“I don’t think they know, or even care. Pledis wasn’t part of HYBE back then. So to them, I’m just another freelancer with a decent portfolio,” you let out a dry laugh, shaking your head. “I think no one there remembers what happened between us.”

Dahee sighed deeply. “I’m so sorry, babe,” her expression softened. She reached for your hand, giving it a reassuring squeeze. “That sounds incredibly painful to hold to yourself.”

You felt a lump form in your throat as you nodded, grateful for her support right now. “It’s been a struggle. I thought keeping busy would help me forget, but seeing him again…”

You trailed off, unable to find the words to fully explain the emotions crashing through you. Memories you thought you’d buried deep had come rushing back with such force it felt like you’d been blindsided for four years.

Dahee’s grip on your hand tightened, her voice firm yet gentle. “You shouldn’t have to go through this alone, you know. Why didn’t you didn’t tell me the second you connect the dots about his connection with Jungkook?”

“I didn’t know what to do, to be honest. Considering how everything went down, I… thought he’d forgotten about me, Hee.”

She raises an eyebrow at you. “And he didn’t?”

You hesitated, biting your lip before shaking your head. “No.”

That much you were sure, since he hadn’t left you any room to think otherwise. It was clear in the way he looked at you, like he wanted to ask a thousand questions but held himself back, respecting Jungkook's presence beside you. The way he kept conversation, the way he and his friends talked about Osaka and referred to you, even without knowing it was you. It was almost like he wanted you to see he still cared, but didn’t want to be direct about it.

You just couldn't understand why.

“Did he say something to you? Otherwise you wouldn't be thinking about it.”

You hesitated again, the words lingering on the tip of your tongue. Maybe Dahee was right—if nothing had happened, if he hadn't followed you to the bathroom, if he hadn't asked to talk, if he hadn't looked at you like that, as if it were the first time he was seeing you in his life, or said us that way, maybe, just maybe, you wouldn’t still be dwelling on it.

"He asked if we could talk.”

Dahee straightened up, her expression a mix of curiosity and cautious concern. “And what did you say?”

You shrugged, fidgeting with the edge of your coat and looking away from her. “That I would think about.”

You could feel her gaze studying you carefully, her faze was sharp but not unkind. Dahee sighed deeply and you held your breath for a second, believing you were going to get scolded by your best friend for having allowed even the smallest space to open, giving the guy who had broken your heart in the worst possible way a sliver of hope that he might talk to you again.

“So let me get this straight,” she started, planting the palms of her hands on her own legs, the marquise-shaped diamond of her engagement ring shining brightly. “Mingyu, the guy who allegedly tried to erase you from his life and left you with a suitcase full of unresolved emotions and the biggest heartbreak of your life, wants to talk. And you didn’t say no, but you didn’t say yes either.”

“Pretty much,” you admitted, feeling the weight of it all press down on you again.

The fact that he wanted to talk set off a cascade of flags in your mind. What could he possibly want from you now? Why, after all these years, did he choose this moment to break the silence? Hadn't he been the one to make the decision for both of you all those years ago? Was it because he saw you with Jungkook that your ego couldn't handle it?

Deep down, you knew he wasn't like that. You knew perfectly well that he wasn't that kind of person. But now your brain was already working with far-fetched answers to the confusing questions surrounding it and the only person who could answer them was the one you weren't ready to face yet.

Dahee let out a sharp laugh, shaking her head. “This is the kind of plot twist I'd expect from a bad drama, not your life. Are you okay, though? Like, how are you feeling now?”

You took a deep breath, trying to gather your thoughts.

The truth was, you weren’t allowing yourself to feel anything, while at the same time, you were feeling everything—the good, the bad, the messy ones. It was a paradox that seemed to stretch you thin, tearing at the edges of your composure. For the longest time, you found yourself torn between two extremes: the desperate yearning to see him every day, and the equally fierce desire to never lay eyes on him again.

Sitting there by the river, with Dahee’s presence beside you, it was the first time in years you allowed yourself even a sliver of vulnerability about this subject. The chaos of seeing Mingyu again, of being thrust into a situation you’d worked so hard to avoid, made your defenses feel paper-thin. And now, after landing the job that could very well change your life, you felt like that fragile piece of paper was precariously floating on water, ready to dissolve into nothingness.

The idea of starting fresh as Seventeen’s stylist should have excited you—it did excite you—but the weight of the past lingered, heavier than you wanted to admit. You knew that from now on, there would be no avoiding Mingyu. In fact, you would be seeing him far more than you ever could have imagined over the past four years.

Seeing Mingyu again wasn’t just a footnote; it was a headline, bold and unavoidable.

How could he suddenly reappear in your life and completely upend everything? How could he suddenly seem to be everywhere?

These thoughts wouldn’t stop circling, growing louder with every passing minute under the moonlight. It felt like a cruel twist of fate, like the universe had been waiting for the perfect moment to throw your carefully built world into disarray. You had spent years carefully locking away every memory, every feeling tied to him, convincing yourself it was better this way. That his absence was a closed chapter, one that didn’t need reopening. Yet here you were, about to walk into a reality where he wasn’t just present—he was unavoidable.

“I don't know. I mean, I thought I was okay. I’ve spent years trying to move past it, convincing myself it didn’t matter anymore. But seeing him again… it’s like all the progress I made just evaporated.”

After everything, you were the only one who ended up with wounds to bind. And now it looked like it was all open wide while someone dumped a bag of salt into it.

“And the worst part? I’m not even angry at him anymore. I’m just… sad. Sad that it ended the way it did, sad that I still don’t fully understand why,” you said softly, your voice barely audible over the gentle lapping of the water against the shore. “But then there’s Jungkook, who is perfect, and makes everything feel so magical, so right and…” you paused, letting the morning's events replay in your mind. “He asked me to move in with him this morning.”

Dahee froze, her eyes widening and mouth falling open in astonishment.. “Wait, what?” she finally said, her voice tinged with disbelief. “How did you even respond to him?”

“I didn’t,” you admitted, letting out a long sigh and pressing the heels of your palms against your eyes. “I also told him I’d think about it.”

Dahee groaned, rubbing her temples like she was getting a headache just from hearing everything. “Okay, so Mingyu reappears, bringing all your unresolved trauma back to the surface, and a week later, Jungkook, your incredible, loving boyfriend who would probably lasso the moon for you, asks you to move in with him?”

“That sums it up,” you said with a weak laugh, though there was no humor behind it, and taking your hands from your eyes to your hair, restlessly. "Two weeks ago, I wouldn’t have hesitated to say yes, Hee. Damn it, why does everything feel like it's moving so fast now?"

“Babe, that's… huge,” she murmured, gaze softening again with understanding. “Like, life-changing huge. Of course it feels fast. You’ve got a whole lot of emotions to process, and now this. No wonder you’re feeling overwhelmed.”

You blinked rapidly, the lump in your throat threatening to spill over into tears. It was actually a surprise that you hadn't shed any tears yet today. “I mean, I should be happy, right? Jungkook is everything I ever wanted and it took me so long to feel like this again after Mingyu. But now…”

“It’s like you’re second-guessing things because of Mingyu.” Dahee finished your sentence as if she’d read your mind.

“Yeah.” You buried your face in your hands. “It feels like I’m being pulled in two different directions, and I don’t know which one is going to tear me apart first.”

The words hung in the air, raw and heavy, as your chest tightened with the weight of your own admission. It wasn’t just about a choice—it was about the uncertainty, the guilt.

On one hand, you did want to say yes to Jungkook because he’s everything you’ve ever wanted, and you know he loves you, just as much as you love him. But on the other hand… there’s Mingyu. And it's not like you're thinking about going down that road again, because you're not. But just the idea of him being a part of your life again is enough to throw you completely off balance.

Dahee reached out, placing a comforting hand on your shoulder. “Have you told Jungkook anything yet?”

You shook your head, biting your lip. “I haven't.” You exhaled shakily, lowering your hands and staring at the calm river in front of you.

How do you even begin to explain this to him?

'Hey babe, remember how I told you I had a complicated past? Surprise! My ex-situationship is Kim Mingyu, your best friend, and we’re going to be seeing each other almost every day now. Do you still want me to move in?’

“I’m scared, Hee,” you admitted, your voice trembling. “I just… I’m terrified of how he’ll react. What if he thinks I’m not over Mingyu? What if this ruins everything?”

Dahee frowned, tilting her head as she regarded you with a mixture of concern and resolve. “But you’re not holding onto Mingyu, right?” she searches for your face, and when you say nothing, she asks, her tone turning more serious, “I mean, how do you actually feel about him?”

Mingyu.

How did you feel about Mingyu? It wasn’t an easy answer. One you were still working to figure out. Just his name alone brought a flurry of emotions you didn’t want to confront. Guilt, anger, sadness, longing—all of it muddled together, making it impossible to think straight.

“I…” you admitted finally, your voice barely above a whisper. You looked away, focusing on the ripples in the river as if they might offer some clarity. “I don’t know.”

Dahee didn’t push, giving you space to sort through the chaos in your head. But the silence wasn’t comforting—it felt like an interrogation room, the weight of the truth pressing down on you.

“It’s not that I’m still in love with him,” you finally said, your voice barely audible. “It’s just… seeing him bring back everything I tried so hard to bury. The what-ifs, the unresolved feelings, the stupid hope that maybe, somehow, he didn’t forget about me too.”

“I’m not gonna lie,” she started, her tone playful. “For a long time, I thought the guy from Osaka was your imaginary friend or something.” You laughed at her effort to lighten the mood, grateful for her attempt to break the tension within you. “The way you talked about him back then, it was like he’d disappeared into thin air. Poof.”

You sighed, the weight of your thoughts settling in as you laid your head into her shoulder. “Maybe it would have been easier if he had.”

Dahee let out a soft hum, her hand gently rubbing your arm as the two of you sat in silence for a moment. The city lights reflected on the surface of the river, casting a shimmering glow that felt oddly soothing despite the storm of emotions swirling within you.

“Maybe,” she said finally, her voice quieter now.

You glanced at her, a small, wry smile tugging at the corner of your lips. “Do you think I’m a horrible person?”

She shook her head immediately, her expression softening.

“Not even close,” Dahee said firmly.”I think you are someone who has never gotten closure from your past.”

You looked down, letting her words settle over you like a balm. They didn’t erase the turmoil inside, but they softened the edges, making it feel a little less insurmountable.

Closure? What's that like?

“I just…” you began, voice trembling. “I don’t want to hurt Jungkook. He’s... he’s everything. And I’m scared that even considering talking to Mingyu is betraying him. I love Jungkook so much, Hee. He’s everything to me and I’m scared shitless of losing him.”

Dahee sat silently for a moment and her gaze drifted to the river. You could almost see her mind turning, sorting through the weight of your words and the emotions you’d finally allowed yourself to express, raw and unfiltered for the first time in ages.

“Listen, you don’t owe Mingyu closure. Not after what he and the company put you through. But you do owe it to yourself to figure out how you want to handle this. Whether that’s keeping things strictly professional or finally getting the answers you deserve.”

Her gaze seemed to be piercing your soul. You knew that no one was better at listening to your mental confusion than her, and you couldn't be more grateful that you had chosen to turn to her first.

“I do think you should give yourself some credit. You’ve been blindsided in a massive way, and anyone in your position would feel a little unsteady.” Dahee gave you a look that was equal parts stern and compassionate. “However, you need to talk to Jungkook about this. Not about Mingyu specifically, maybe, but about how you’re feeling. He loves you, anyone with eyes can see that. He deserves to know before this becomes an even bigger mess.”

You swallowed hard, her words hitting a little too close to home. Deep down, you knew she was right. Jungkook deserved honesty, even if it scared you to lay everything bare.

“I don’t even know where to start,” you murmured, your fingers curling into fists in your lap. “How do you tell someone you love that you’re suddenly tangled up in unresolved feelings from the past without making it sound like you’re questioning your relationship with them?”

Dahee let out a soft laugh, shaking her head. “You’re overthinking it, babe. Just tell him what you told me: that seeing Mingyu again threw you for a loop, but it doesn’t change how you feel about him.”You stared at her, the simplicity of her suggestion making your chest ache. Maybe it really was that simple—if you didn’t let fear complicate things further.

“And what about Mingyu?” you asked hesitantly, the name tasting bitter on your tongue. “Do I... talk to him? Or do I just pretend he’s not there and hope this whole thing goes away?”

“That depends,” Dahee’s expression hardened slightly, her lips pressing into a firm line. “If he wants to apologize, maybe hearing him out could give you some closure. But if he’s just trying to wiggle his way back into your life with no good reason, you don’t owe him anything.”

You exhaled, the weight of her words settling into your chest. She was right, as always—but that didn’t make any of this easier.

“I don’t even know if talking to Mingyu will give me the answers I’m looking for. Don’t know if I’m ready to hear them either,” you admitted. “What if it just makes everything worse?”

Dahee tilted her head, her expression thoughtful. “Or what if it gives you the closure you need to finally move forward? You can’t control how it turns out, but avoiding it forever isn’t going to help either. Sometimes the only way out is through, babe.”

The thought both terrified and comforted you. Could you face Mingyu again, knowing how much he had hurt you—and how much you’d tried to move on? Could you really hear whatever it was that he needed to say without letting it unravel the life you’d built?

“I guess the question is,” Dahee continued, her voice softer now, “are you ready to let go of the past? Because if you are, maybe this conversation is exactly what you need to do.”

After your conversation with Dahee, you spent a few minutes alone in your studio-slash-apartment, carefully sorting through your thoughts until everything felt perfectly clear. You had finally made up your mind about telling Jungkook the whole truth, convinced that he deserved to hear all of it from you, and by all of it, you meant all of it, including your hesitations regarding the biggest opportunity of your career and why.

No more secrets. No more running from your past.

Still, even though you were certain of your decision, stepping out of the elevator in Jungkook’s building, you couldn’t ignore the nagging feeling that the road ahead was about to become much more complicated.

Could he handle all of it? Could you handle laying it all out for him?

It wasn’t just about the past; it was about the future, too. The idea of moving in together, of merging your lives more deeply than ever before, felt both exhilarating and terrifying. If you said yes, would this be the start of something even more beautiful than you already had now, or would the ghosts of your past threaten to tear it all apart?

Your mind has been your worst enemy lately, and you knew that. It felt like the only things occupying it were unanswered questions and nagging insecurities. It was as if you had regressed four entire years of therapy to deal with things like that.

The hallway on the top floor of the building where Jungkook lived was silent as you typed in the password and let yourself into the apartment. The familiar beep of the keypad was followed by the faint click of the door unlocking, and you stepped inside.

Almost immediately, an excited Bam darted toward you, his nails clicking against the wooden floor. His dark eyes sparkled with recognition, and he let out a happy bark, throwing his front paws at your legs in a determined effort to reach your face. You laughed softly, crouching down to greet him.

“Hi, my baby,” you cooed, running your hands over his silky fur as his thin tail wagged furiously. “Did you have fun with uncle Junghyun today?”

Bam responded with an enthusiastic lick to your cheek, making you giggle despite the heaviness of your thoughts. You stayed there for a moment, scratching behind his ears and pressing a quick kiss to the top of his head, letting his boundless energy soothe some of your nerves.

Straightening up, you glanced toward the living room, where the glow of Jungkook’s mood light projector cast a soft, familiar warmth. Looking around, you saw that the television was paused in some reality show, and somewhere in the apartment, you could also hear the soft melody of an R&B song somewhere, although Jungkook was nowhere to be seen.

“Bamie, where’s appa?” you asked sweetly, slipping off your shoes, setting your bag and phone on the console, noticing now that it was out of battery. Bam tilted his head at your question, then turned and trotted toward the hallway, as if to guide you. Smiling, you followed him through the apartment, your own footsteps muffled by the plush rugs beneath your feet.

The nerves began to creep back as you walked towards Jungkook's room, your heart picking up speed. You knew it wasn’t going to be easy, but the thought of holding back from him felt even worse. And you also knew that, despite your fear, he deserved all your honesty.

Your footsteps faltered as your ears registered the sound of a soft sniffle coming from Jungkook’s room. The weight in your chest shifted, no longer nerves there but a pang of worry. You stood still for a moment, your fingers brushing the edge of the door frame as you leaned closer to listen.

“Jungkook?” you called out softly, your voice just above a whisper. His name hung in the air, but there was no immediate response, just the faint rustle of fabric and a muffled sound that could have been a shaky exhale.

Pushing the door open further, you stepped inside and were met with a sight that made your heart twist. Jungkook was sitting on the edge of his bed, his elbows resting on his knees, and his head hung low. One hand raked through his dark hair in a way that seemed almost frantic, while the other clutched at his phone. His broad shoulders were hunched, and even in the dim light, you could see the slight tremble in them.

“Kookie,” you said again, your voice firmer this time but still gentle. Bam brushed past your legs, padding over to Jungkook and nudging his knee with his nose. Jungkook glanced up, startled, his wide, watery doe eyes meeting yours for a brief moment before he quickly wiped at his face, as if trying to erase the evidence of his tears.

“Oh, hey, babe,” he mumbled, his voice thick and strained as he forced a small, unconvincing smile. “Didn’t hear you come in.”

You crossed the room in a few quick steps, kneeling in front of him to meet his gaze. “What’s wrong, baby?” you asked softly, your hands instinctively reaching out to rest on his knees. “Why are you crying?”

“It’s nothing,” he said, shaking his head as if to dismiss your concern, but the crack in his voice betrayed him. He looked away, biting down on his bottom lip as his phone slipped from his hand and landed on the bed beside him. “I just… It’s stupid.”

“It’s not stupid if it’s making you feel like this,” you countered gently. Your mind raced through every possible scenario, trying to understand what could have left him like this. “You know you can talk to me, right?”

He nodded but hesitated, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallowed hard. You ran your hands comfortingly through his damp hair, realizing that he must not have gotten out of the shower long ago, since the towel was still on the bed, and he was wearing only sweatpants.

“Did I do something?” you asked, unsure if the tears could have anything to do with what had happened in the kitchen this morning.

Jungkook shook his head immediately, his eyes widening as he met your gaze again. “No, no, baby, it’s not you. It’s not anything you did. I swear.” His words were rushed, almost desperate, as if the thought of you blaming yourself had pulled him out of his emotional haze for a moment. “You could never…”

Relief washed over you, but the worry remained as you watched him struggle to find the words. His warm hands came up to cover yours where they rested on his knees. He gave them a gentle squeeze, his thumb brushing against your skin as if grounding himself with your presence.

“Then what is it?” you asked softly, leaning in closer so your faces were only inches apart. “Please, Kook. I hate seeing you like this. Let me help.”

He inhaled deeply, his shoulders rising and falling as he tried to steady his breathing. For a moment, the room was quiet except for the faint hum of the music playing in the background. It seemed like he might brush it off again, but then he sighed heavily, his gaze finally meeting yours. His brows knitted together, his lips trembled, and fresh tears pooled in his reddened eyes.

“I’m scared,” he whispered.

“Scared of what, baby?” your voice was soft as you massage the back of his hands with your thumbs.

“Of the hiatus,” he admitted quietly. "Of what it can do to the members and me. Of having to do it all alone.”

Your heart sank at his confession. The weight of Jungkook's fears settled heavily in the room, making your own chest tighten. You should’ve known. It should’ve been your first thought, after seeing him struggling with it alone for days, refusing to share it with you; to worry you, just because he was that kind of person—the one who would never bother anyone with his problems.

But just as you had already predicted earlier, now that BTS were going to take a break to focus on their solo projects plus the military service that would start by the end of that year with Seokjin, Jungkook wasn't handling this in a very healthy way. He was sleeping poorly, smoking more, and skipping meals. He thought you didn’t notice, but there was nothing about him you didn’t see, and Jimin made sure to keep you updated on everything when you were apart.

You knew he enjoyed being active, being with the members, and doing what he loved most, giving it his all. You also knew that the idea of not being able to do that for a certain amount of time scared him more than he was willing to admit. Jungkook had a featuring song to be released with Charlie Puth in less than a week, and you knew he was feeling pressured by it. You just wished he had voiced his concerns before it got to this point.

Reaching up, you gently cupped his face, brushing away the tears that slipped down his cheeks with your thumbs.

“Baby,” you murmured, your voice trembling with empathy as you shifted closer. “You don’t have to do it alone. You’re not alone.”

His eyes closed at your touch, his lashes wet with tears. “It feels like I am sometimes,” he confessed, his voice barely above a whisper. “The members… we’re all doing our own things, and I know it’s what we need, but it’s hard. I’m used to having them by my side, to leaning on them when it gets too much. Now, it’s just going to be… me.”

“But you have them,” you reminded him gently. “Even if you’re working on your own projects, they’re still your brothers.”

“I know that," he said, his lips trembling a little. “But what if I don't know who I am without them?”

“Then this is the moment you'll find out, love,” you said softly, your hands still cradling his face. “Trust me, this isn’t about losing who you are; it’s about finding new parts of yourself, ones you didn’t even know were there.”

He opened his eyes, his gaze searching yours as if trying to find reassurance in your words. “What if I mess up?” he asked, his voice cracking under the weight of his doubt. “What if I’m not good enough without them?”

“You won’t mess up,” you said with conviction, pressing your forehead gently to his after kissing the tip of his nose. “You’re talented, Jungkook. The most talented person I know. And more than that, you’re hardworking, dedicated, and passionate. Those things don’t disappear just because you’re standing on your own for a while. You’re more than enough, with or without BTS.”

For a moment, he didn’t respond, his eyes fluttering shut again as he took a shaky breath. Then, he nodded, his hands reaching up to grasp your wrists gently, as if he was trying to ground himself again.

“I don’t want to let anyone down. I don’t want to disappoint them, ARMY or you. I don't want these speculations to become true.”

The looming uncertainty of BTS's hiatus had been on everyone’s mind since Tuesday. It was an ongoing topic across the country and the world. Rumors of disbandment flooded social media and the news, but just as the members, you knew they weren’t true. They were still working on group projects, filming content, and recording songs; still together.

The difference was that now they would have the freedom to explore their individuality and show the world who they truly were as artists.

“First of all,” you whispered softly, placing a kiss on his temple. Jungkook had always been hard on himself, striving for perfection in everything he did, but seeing him let the words of strangers chip away at his confidence broke something in you. “You could never disappoint me. And the members, they understand, they know what you’re going through. As for ARMY, they would walk through hell for you. You’re not in this alone. Never.”

He stayed silent again, just breathing, as though taking in your words. You watched as the fear that had been evident in his eyes slowly started to fade, replaced by a mix of gratitude and uncertainty.

Jungkook leaned forward and pressed his forehead to yours again, his hands gently cupping yours where they rested on his face. “I’m so lucky to have you.”

“Believe me,” you whispered back, “I’m the lucky one.”

For a few moments, the two of you stayed like that, comforted by each other’s presence, the weight of his worries slowly lifting, if only for a moment. In that quiet space, with his hand in yours and his heart open before you, everything felt a little more manageable. So manageable that for at least that moment, you forgot what you came to do here tonight.

But Jungkook made sure to bring you back to reality not long after.

“Now let’s forget about me,” he said, his voice sounding a little bit more upbeat now. “What about you doll? Have any big news to share with me?”

You chuckled softly, tilting your head to the side for a moment, to look at him carefully. “Are you sure you're okay, tough? If you want to keep talking, we can leave this for later.”

Was it selfish of you to want to avoid the subject? Maybe.

But really, you just wanted to make sure he was going to be okay, that all these treacherous thoughts would leave his mind and never return again, even though you knew this was like an impossible mission at the time.

Jungkook sighed, rubbing his face with his tattooed hand. “I’ll be okay. Just... a lot on my mind.” He looked at you, his eyes soft but weary. “I don't want to drag you into this. But thank you for asking.”

You bit your lip, not wanting to push him further, but unable to ignore the weight in his words.

“Baby, I always want to be dragged into whatever is happening in there,” you murmured, using your index finger to point to his head. “It's my job to try to ease your bad thoughts.”

He smiled faintly, appreciating your offer, but you could tell he wasn’t ready to dive deeper into the conversation. Instead, he shrugged and said, “We’ll figure it out later. But for now, I just want to hear how your meeting went.”

The silence stretched between you two for a moment. You gave him a small, understanding nod, your hand resting lightly on the edge of the table between you. You didn’t press any further, trusting that when he was ready, he would find the words.

“Okay, but you know where to find me,” you said quietly, your voice steady and calm, offering him the space he needed.

Jungkook looked at you then, and for a moment, the storm in his eyes seemed to settle. “I know,” he said softly, a hint of a smile tugging at the corners of his lips. “Now tell me, please. I’m dying here.”

Looking back now, you knew that moment should’ve been the moment you told him everything. You should have used the confidence you had earlier to stop running from the truth you had kept hidden so far.

But when your gaze met his beautiful doe eyes again, still red and puffy from crying, you also knew you couldn’t bear to do that to him. You couldn’t be the one to introduce more doubts and uncertainties into his life. Hell, there was nothing in the world you wouldn’t do to never see him cry like that ever again.

So you changed course, deciding that leaving the topic of Kim Mingyu and Japanese nights for another time was the best choice. To protect that small glimmer of peace you saw returning to him.

“They offered me a position as lead stylist for one of their major groups,” you said, trying to force the best smile you could. At the same time you were happy about the biggest opportunity of your career, your heart broke from having to hide things from Jungkook.

Jungkook’s eyes widened slightly, his lips parting in surprise before a smile broke through the lingering haze of sadness. The shift in his expression was instantaneous, his tears momentarily forgotten as excitement replaced the storm cloud in his gaze. He got up from the bed immediately taking you with him.

“Babe, that’s amazing!” he exclaimed, his voice carrying a newfound energy as he wrapped you in a hug and spun you around in the air. “I told you! You’re so talented, of course they’d want you!”

The genuine enthusiasm in his voice was enough to both warm your heart and deepen the ache of your guilt.

You nodded, unable to stop yourself from smiling at his words, even though a knot twisted in your throat. “Thank you,” you said softly. “I’m really excited. I’ve been dreaming of something like this for years.”

After years of working with big artists and accomplishing great things in this industry, things that had never been properly rewarded or given credit, you knew you deserved something like this. It was more than just a dream come true; it was the result of all your hard work. Every late night spent hemming clothes in cramped apartments, every early morning dragging garment bags through crowded subways, every tear shed over designs rejected without a second glance—it had all led to this moment.

“You’re amazing,” Jungkook said, pulling away slightly to look at you with admiration in his eyes. “Babe, I’m so proud of you.”

You returned the smile, though it was a little strained. “Thank you, Kookie,” you said again.

You desperately wanted to take solace in his unwavering faith in you. And perhaps, just perhaps, gather the courage to tell him everything soon. For now, though, you stayed silent, allowing his love and support to envelop you, even as the weight of your secret pressed heavily on your heart.

“Did they tell you which group it was?” he asked, pulling you to sit on his lap as he sat on the bed again.

You nodded, trying to avoid his gaze but afraid of raising suspicion. “It's Seventeen.”

You watched as a smile spread across Jungkook's face, his entire expression lighting up with joy at your news. You had expected this reaction, his excitement was inevitable. You knew he’d be thrilled not only by the idea of you being nearby again, but also working directly with his friends.

The problem, however, was that this was the one part that made you hesitant. It wasn’t that the rest of the members were at fault for your situation; you were certain they were incredible guys. Based on everything Jungkook had shared with you and what you’d read about them, you knew they would embrace you warmly and make you feel valued in your work.

Still, you couldn’t shake the feeling of butterflies in your stomach—the bad kind. It was a sensation that went far beyond the typical nerves of starting a new job. It felt like a premonition.

“It just keeps getting better,” Jungkook spoke in an excited tone, just as you imagined he would be. “That way I can ask Mingyu to take care of you.”

Your heart clenched at Jungkook's words, even as you tried to maintain your composure. The irony of the situation wasn’t lost on you, and the mention of Mingyu’s name only deepened the knot in your stomach. You forced a smile, nodding slightly as you leaned into his chest, hoping the motion would shield your conflicted expression.

“That’s sweet of you,” you said softly, trying to keep your tone light as you rested your head on his shoulder. “But I think I’ll be fine. It’s a professional environment, after all.”

Jungkook chuckled, the sound warm and reassuring as he stroked your back. “I know you will. You’re amazing at what you do. But it doesn’t hurt to have someone looking out for you, right?”

You swallowed hard. What reasons would you have to say no? “Right,” you echoed, though the word felt hollow on your tongue.

The truth you had promised yourself to share with him earlier that evening now felt impossibly distant. Jungkook's excitement and trust in you only made it harder to picture disrupting this moment with the weight of your past. Yet, even as you held on to the comfort of his embrace, a quiet voice in the back of your mind reminded you that the longer you waited, the harder it would be to face the truth.

You squeezed your eyes shut, desperately trying to drown out the voices swirling in your mind, letting yourself get lost in the warmth of your boyfriend's arms, stealing just a little more time before you faced the storm.

“This is huge for you. We need to celebrate.”

Jungkook's enthusiasm was infectious, so you allowed yourself to be swept up in it. His smile was wide, bunny teeth on full display now, and his arms wrapped tightly around you like he never wanted to let go. Deep inside, you wished he wouldn't.

“Celebrate?” you repeated, opening your eyes and arching a brow, unable to keep the smile off your face. “What did you have in mind, Jeon Jungkook?”

He hummed, the corners of his lips quirking up mischievously. “A fancy dinner? Or... I could cook for you. Something special. Your favorite, maybe?”

“That sounds perfect,” you said softly, your heart swelling at the thoughtfulness in his voice. You didn't want a fancy dinner or anything else. You just wanted to enjoy the rest of the night with him and Bam; to stay right here in his embrace.

Jungkook’s eyes lit up at your response, and his lips curved into the kind of grin that made your chest warm in the best way. “Then it’s settled,” he declared, leaning back slightly to look at you more closely. “Let’s open a bottle of wine too. You deserve it. This is your moment, babe.”

“Alright,” you said, your smile soft but genuine. “I want to help.”

Jungkook groaned dramatically, shaking his head. “No way. You’re the guest of honor tonight. Your job is to sit back, relax, and enjoy.”

“Guest of honor?” you teased, tilting your head. “I live here half the time.”

“Exactly,” he said, leaning closer until your foreheads nearly touched. “Half the time. Which means tonight, you get to be spoiled.”

You laughed, unable to stop yourself from leaning into him. “Fine,” you conceded. “But I’ll set the table.”

“Deal,” he murmured, his voice dropping to a soft, affectionate tone. For a moment, the weight of your secret felt just a little lighter, his unwavering love wrapping around you like a shield against the storm you knew was coming soon.

If you were being honest, you had expected the night to end like this. Not with warmth and laughter, but with words sharp enough to leave invisible cuts. You hadn't anticipated, however, that it would be for entirely different reasons from those you thought. Or maybe, deep down, you had known. You should’ve known, at least, that this subject had probably been taking up residence in his mind throughout the day.

It had started so innocently. You had an amazing dinner with Jungkook, sharing Japchae and a bottle of wine. You’d explained your work with Seventeen, detailing the complexities of managing their schedules, moods, and preferences, all while ensuring their cohesive look as a group. He’d listened attentively, supportive as always, even suggesting he could travel with you when his own schedule allowed.

“Wouldn’t it be cool if I could join you and Mingyu for part of the tour?” he had said, his excitement genuine.

The night seemed perfect and as it came to a close, you insisted on helping him at least put the dishes back in the cupboard. But Jungkook refused, gently telling you to go get ready for bed while he took care of all the cleaning himself. Feeling the drowsiness from the wine setting in, you didn’t put up much of a fight and headed off to unwind.

You were calmly brushing your teeth when Jungkook entered the bathroom, quietly sitting on the toilet lid, after putting Bam in his room to sleep. Through the mirror, you saw his eyes heavy with sleep and the lingering effects of the wine on his face.

“You didn’t have your phone with you today?” he asked after a moment, tilting his head to the side as he looked at you through half-closed eyes.

You paused mid-brush, the question catching you off guard. “I did,” you replied after a pause, spitting out the toothpaste. “But it ran out of battery at some point during the day, and I didn’t see it until I got here.”

Jungkook didn’t respond immediately. He simply watched you, his expression unreadable. “Where did you go after the meeting?”

You frowned, sensing something off in his tone. You hadn’t expected him to ask about your day in such detail, especially considering how understanding he’d been about your busy schedule. You could tell there was something in his tone that made it feel less like casual curiosity and more like... concern, maybe even unease.

You quickly finished brushing your teeth and rinsed your mouth, turning to face him, your hand still holding the toothbrush in a vague gesture of distraction.

“I went for a meal with Dahee,” you said slowly, testing the waters. “We haven’t seen each other in ages, and it was nice to catch up.”

His jaw tightened slightly and Jungkook sat there, watching you with a contemplative expression, his gaze flicking to the toothbrush you were setting down on the counter. “And how did you arrange that?”

“Through my phone…” You trailed off, suddenly feeling defensive.

“Right,” he muttered, nodding almost imperceptibly. “So your phone died, but you managed to message Dahee before that?” His voice was calm, but the underlying tension was unmistakable.

You paused, trying to gauge his mood. Jungkook was always the type to give you space if you needed and he had never been insecure about your relationship, nor had he shown any distrust towards you at any time during the past six months. But there was an intensity in his eyes now that made you wonder if something was bothering him, if he would have talked to someone who was possibly much braver than you when it came to telling the truth to his face.

“Jungkook,” you said, turning to face him fully after drying your hands on the towel and placing your toothbrush beside his. “What’s going on? Are you upset I went out with my best friend?”

“No,” he said quickly, shaking his head. “It’s not that. I just…” He exhaled, running a hand through his hair. “You couldn’t text or call me back? Not even once?”

His words hung in the air like a challenge, and suddenly the warmth of the evening felt suffocating. “I’ve been busy,” you said, crossing your arms defensively. “I told you today would be packed.”

“And you couldn’t spare five seconds to let me know you were okay?” His voice was rising now, the hurt unmistakable.

You blinked, his words landing heavier than you expected. Jungkook’s tone wasn’t angry, but it was raw, tinged with something that felt like hurt. His wide eyes searched for yours, the vulnerability in them throwing you off balance.

“I—” you started, only to falter. Maybe you deserved it after ignoring his multiple missed calls. “Kook, my phone was dead. I didn’t even think about it because it was such a last-minute thing with Dahee. I wasn’t trying to ignore you.”

He leaned forward slightly, elbows resting on his knees as he buried his face in his hands for a moment. When he looked back up, his expression was softer, but the tension in his shoulders remained. “I know you weren’t ignoring me. It's just... when you didn’t have your phone with you, and I couldn’t reach you... I started to wonder if you were avoiding me after this morning.”

And there it was.

“Jungkook…”

“I don't want to scare you off with the idea of moving in; I just thought that—”

He broke off, running a hand through his hair. The vulnerability etched across his face made your heart ache. You knew, from the moment you had walked out of the kitchen this morning, stating you needed to think about it, that this matter would linger unresolved in his mind. You had felt it would create a tension that would only grow if you didn’t address it according to his timing.

“You just thought what?” you prompted gently, your voice soft but insistent.

“That it might bring us closer,” he finally said, looking up at you. “That would show you how serious I am about us. About you.”

The warmth of his words seeped into your chest, the tenderness behind them making your heart flutter. But just as quickly, doubt crept in.

You swallowed hard, your thoughts swirling. You told yourself Jungkook wasn’t trying to guilt-trip you about this—at least, that’s what you kept repeating, hating yourself for even entertaining the idea. Still, the unease lingered inside, as if your freedom to think it over was somehow a source of discomfort for him.

You couldn’t help but study his face, your eyes scanning every feature, searching for even the slightest hint of uncertainty about this. There was none—his expression was steady, resolute. Unlike your own mind, which was spiraling, racing through every possible reason for your hesitation.

“I meant it,” he stated, eyes searching for something in yours. “I don’t want you to be anywhere else but here with me. I love having you around. And honestly, it feels like the right time."

You took a deep breath, your chest rising and falling heavily, before opening the door and stepping out of the bathroom. Entering the bedroom felt like seeking refuge, as if the space could somehow ease the tightness in your chest and help you breathe better. His words echoed in your mind, their gravity sinking in as you started pacing around his bedroom, your movements restless.

Your thoughts raced wildly—this wasn’t just a step; it was a leap, one that would change everything. The idea was both thrilling and utterly terrifying.

And you wanted it. Didn’t you?

Jungkook was everything you’d ever dreamed of—kind, stable, and endlessly patient with every quirk and flaw you carried. You loved him, deeply and fiercely. Yet, the thought of merging your lives so intimately made your heart race for reasons that weren’t entirely joyful.

The events of the past week and this afternoon loomed in your mind, a dark shadow cast over the light you’d found with him, lingering just enough to make you question if now was the right time.

Jungkook came out of the bathroom and was now standing near the closet door, watching you silently as you paced around, his dark eyes tracking your every move with a mix of curiosity and patience. He leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed, his expression unreadable but more calm than before. He wasn’t rushing you, wasn’t pushing for an answer—just waiting, giving you the space to process what he’d said.

“I… I don’t know,” you began, biting your lip. “It’s a big step, don’t you think?”

He nodded, his lips curving into a small, reassuring smile. “I know,” he replied gently. “It’s a huge step, but I’m ready for it, and I want to take it with you.”

You took another deep breath, running your fingers through your hair and feeling the walls closing in around you. Jungkook’s expression faltered, confusion flashing across his features as he watched you.

“What’s wrong? Don’t you want to?”

“It’s not that I don’t want to,” you said finally, your words carefully chosen. “I just… I feel like maybe it’s too soon?”

He studied you with a frown. “Too soon? Y/N, it’s been six months. I love you. I want to build a life with you.”

“I know,” you whispered, your voice cracking slightly. “And I love you too. But…” you trailed off, unable to put into words your emotions.

“But what?”

Oh, I don't know, I'm kind of keeping a secret from you that I slept with your best friend four years ago and we pretended we didn't know each other to your face, and I don't know how to deal with that. Do you still want me to move in?

The absurdity of saying it aloud hit you like a cold wave, and your breath caught in your throat. It wasn't just the words themselves, it was the potential devastation they carried, the way they could shatter everything you and Jungkook had carefully built together so far. Not that this situation was making things much better, you thought.

You shook your head as if trying to physically dislodge the thought. This wasn’t the time, not now. Maybe not ever. But the weight of the unspoken truth lingered above your head, pressing down on you even as you stood frozen in the middle of the bedroom.

This wasn’t about doubting your feelings for him. You loved Jungkook more than words could express. He had shown you time and again that he was there for you, steady and unwavering, no matter what. But taking this step—making this commitment—wasn’t just about love. It was about letting go of the fears that whispered what-ifs in the quiet corners of your mind.

And mostly, letting go of the past. What you weren't sure you were ready to do anymore.

You had been so sure of yourself just hours ago. Why doubt clawed at your chest now?

Finally, you stopped pacing and turned to face him, your arms wrapped tightly around yourself as if for comfort. You shook your head, unable to meet his gaze. “But what about everything else? My work, your schedule? It’s a lot to juggle.”

He shrugged, a small smile tugging at his lips. “We’ll figure it out. I just want to be with you, come home to you. I think it could be amazing. Just think about it, babe, no more running back and forth, no more late-night drives. It’s closer to work, and you’d waste less time in traffic.”

“What about my apartment?” you asked, but deep down it was clear you were just looking for reasons to stand your ground.

His response was immediate, as if he’d already thought of it. “You can turn it into your studio. I can help you with that.”

“You’ve thought of all this.” It wasn’t a question, though it sounded like one.

“I have,” he admitted, his tone soft but certain. “I’ve been thinking about it for a while.”

What the hell was wrong with you? Why didn’t you want to live with this perfect man standing in front of you, offering everything you’d ever wanted?

You chewed your lip again, hesitating before you spoke again. “I just think we should wait a little longer.”

Jungkook sighed, and the playful lightness from earlier vanished. “Y/N, if this is about me leaning on you too much, then say so. I don’t want you to feel pressured.”

“No, it’s not that,” you replied quickly, though doubts began to creep in.

“Then what is it?” he asked, his tone tinged with hurt.

You opened your mouth to explain but faltered. How could you share that the memory of Mingyu’s piercing gaze and your unresolved history loomed in your mind? That, despite your love for Jungkook, moving in together felt like a complicated risk right now?

“It’s not that I don’t want to. I do. It’s just…” You sighed, shaking your head, frustration bubbling to the surface. “You’re acting like I should drop everything and just say yes!”

His expression darkened, confusion morphing into irritation. “I thought we were building a future together, and now it feels like you’re pulling away!”

“It’s too soon!” you shouted back, the admission tumbling out before you could stop it.

Jungkook blinked, his expression a mix of hurt and disbelief. “Too soon? Y/N, we’ve been together for six months. I love you. I want to build a life with you. How is that too soon?”

“I don’t know!” you cried, running a hand through your hair again. “I just… I need more time, okay?”

“More time for what?” His voice cracked, the vulnerability in his eyes making your stomach churn. “To figure out if you even want this? If you even want me?”

“Don’t do that,” you said sharply, your hands trembling. “Don’t twist this into me not loving you, because you know that’s not true.”

“Then what is it?” he demanded, stepping closer. “Because right now, it feels like you’re running away.”

“I’m not running away!” you yelled, your voice echoing in the bedroom. “I’m just… I’m trying to figure things out. My work, your schedule—there’s so much to juggle.”

“I told you: we can figure it out together,” he said, his tone softening for a moment. “But I can’t keep doing this, Y/N. I need to know you’re all in.”

Your throat tightened, tears stinging your eyes. “I am all in,” you whispered, though now even you weren’t sure if it was entirely true.

“Then prove it,” he said, his voice low but steady. “Because right now, it doesn’t feel like you are.”

The silence that followed was deafening, the weight of his words crushing you. You opened your mouth to respond, but nothing came. How could you explain the doubts that clawed at you? How could you explain to him that you were scared to death that your past would come back to destroy what you had built together without telling him who your past was?

Silence lingered between you, heavy and suffocating. Your shoulders slumped as you sat on the edge of the bed trying to control your legs that you hadn't realized were shaking. “I’m too tired for this right now, Jungkook. Can we please talk tomorrow?”

He stood there for a moment, staring at you with a mixture of hurt and anger before shaking his head. “Fine.”

Jungkook grabbed a spare blanket from the closet and headed for the couch, the soft sound of his footsteps retreating down the hall. You stood there, your reflection staring back at you in the mirror wall, tears streaming down your face for the first time this week.

The night had ended exactly as you’d expected. Just not for the reasons you’d hoped.

You’d officially step into your new role as Seventeen’s lead stylist three days later, after submitting your resignation letter to Elle Magazine. The transition from one job to the other had been anything but smooth, even though HYBE had done their part to ease the process. You were grateful for their professionalism and for agreeing to handle any complications with your former employer, even providing a temporary replacement until a permanent hire could fill your position, showing how much they wanted you to work with them.

They wanted you to start immediately, which meant you’d already spent the last three days coordinating the group’s wardrobe remotely, finalizing adjustments, sending approvals through a dizzying chain of emails, and constantly contacting their former stylist, named Mitsuri Miyawaki, known as Stormi.

Three whole days of nonstop emails, virtual meetings, and late-night alterations that had blurred together, confined to your apartment-turned-studio, sewing and sketching, and though you were now more excited about the chance to leave an even greater mark in the fashion and entertainment industry, your whole body bears witness to your tiredness.

All of this, however, meant that you hadn’t spoken or seen Jungkook in three whole days. The next morning, when you woke up, he had already left for work, and you couldn’t wait for him to come back, since doing so would’ve made you late. The only messages exchanged between the two of you over the past three days had been about Bam, aside from the one you sent this morning: a simple "Fighting ❤️," knowing today would be the release of Left and Right.

You wished things were different right now, but there wasn’t much you could do to improve the situation, especially since your answer to what he wanted so desperately remained unchanged.

As always, for the past three days you have been using your coping mechanism: focusing on work to forget your problems.

And Stormi had been a lifeline in your chaos. To your surprise, she was now TXT’s new stylist and, apparently, also Vernon’s girlfriend. That particular tidbit had been casually dropped into one of your conversations catching you off guard, but making you have an immense empathy for her immediately, since you were practically in the same boat.

She was extremely kind and attentive to your questions, and within just a few days, the two of you had already spoken more than you had with anyone else this week, constantly staying in touch through countless messages, video and phone calls. Her guidance was invaluable, but it was clear she was more than ready to hand over the reins.

For your first day, she had offered to show you around the building and take you to the cafeteria for an iced americano, mentioning it was one of the largest and most varied she had ever seen, which, of course, you couldn’t deny.

“Have you met Choi Arin sunbaenim, yet? The supervisor?” Mitsuri asked you, when you two entered the cafeteria.

You shook your head, scanning the spacious cafeteria with curiosity as you joined the line to place your orders. You immediately recognized some familiar artists scattered at tables, chatting and eating animatedly, along with various members of the staff team.

“Not yet,” you admitted, glancing at Mitsuri as you queued up to place your orders. “We've only communicated through email. She mentioned she'd stop by my studio before introducing me to the members.”

One of the things you had discovered was that here, the team of stylists of each group had their own separate space to work, even though the general HYBE wardrobe room was available to anyone who needed it. And since you were in charge of guiding Seventeen’s stylist team, you also had a private studio for yourself, which you had appreciated very much.

“She's a cow,” Mitsuri said, without beating around the bush. “She’s been on my case since day one. Honestly, it’s a miracle I wasn’t fired when she found out about my relationship with Hansol.”

Your eyebrows shot up in surprise. “She’s the one who discovered it?”

“Unfortunately.” Mitsuri rolled her eyes dramatically.

“I'm guessing she didn't approve?” You let out a genuine chuckle at the expression on her face.

“That’s putting it lightly,” Mitsuri snorted, grabbing a tray for her order. “She’s a stickler for rules, and she doesn’t care much for personal connections interfering with work. Can’t say I blame her entirely, things can get messy if you’re not careful, but still, it’s exhausting.”

“She must’ve been intense,” you said, cringing at the thought of a stern supervisor breathing down your neck.

“Oh, absolutely,” Mitsuri said, chuckling softly. “To be fair, HYBE has some pretty strict policies about that sort of thing. But you know how it is—long hours, close quarters. Things happen.” She shrugged. “That's why I was relocated.”

The mention of personal connections and professionalism hit a little too close to home, given the delicate balance you were already trying to maintain between your personal and professional life. The last thing you needed was for someone like Arin to scrutinize your every move.

Mitsuri seemed to sense your unease, her expression softening.

“Don’t let her intimidate you, though,” she continued, her tone lightening as you moved down the line. “You’re ridiculously talented. They wouldn’t have hired you if they didn’t think you could handle it.”

Her words brought a small smile to your lips. “Thanks, Stormi. That means a lot.”

She shrugged with a grin. “Just speaking the truth. Besides, you’re gonna kill it here. I’ve seen your work and it’s amazing. The guys are lucky to have you.”

The line moved forward, and you placed your order, grateful for the brief reprieve from the whirlwind of thoughts swirling in your mind as always. While Mitsuri grabbed a piece of iced lemon loaf cake to enjoy right away, you decided your stomach couldn’t handle much more than an espresso to keep you awake. Still, you couldn’t resist grabbing a chocolate chip cookie for later because it looked too good to pass up.

“Okay, but enough about Arin,” Mitsuri said, offering you a reassuring smile. “You’re going to love working with Seventeen. They’re a handful, sure, but they’re good guys. They make all the stress worth it. And if you ever need a break or a rant session, just call me. I’ll sneak you out for coffee, or a drink if it’s really bad.”

You couldn’t help but laugh, her easy going demeanor putting you at ease despite the lingering nerves. “I might take you up on that.”

As the barista handed over your orders, Mitsuri raised an eyebrow, her smile never fading. “You already know some of them, right?”

The two of you weaved through the maze of tables, heading toward one near the floor-to-ceiling windows. The sunlight streamed in, highlighting the bustling cafeteria as you settled into your seats, the view of the city below serving as a stunning backdrop.

“Yeah,” you said, nodding as you took a sip of your coffee. “Seokmin, Minghao and... Mingyu. They are friends with Jungkook. I don’t know them much more than that.”

You knew that starting a friendship by lying wasn’t the best approach. But what could you do? She was still a stranger—albeit a dear one, but a stranger nonetheless. It wasn’t like you could just spill personal details about your life, especially when it came to your past. The NDA was still in effect, after all.

After your answer, Mitsuri proceeded to give you a complete dossier on each of the members, describing them with an excited smile and evident affection. It was clear that she had loved working with them, and it probably hadn’t been easy to be reassigned to another group. Still, she seemed to like TXT just as much, mentioning that they were great, though less chaotic than Seventeen.

Despite the nervousness, you found yourself laughing, already imagining what kind of dynamic they must have within the group. It sounded like Seventeen was a vibrant mix of personalities, each one offering something unique to the group, and you’d soon be a part of that energy.

“Jeonghan looks like an angel, he’s even nicknamed Angel, but trust me, there’s nothing angelic about him. Not in a bad way, though,” Mitsuri added with a grin. “I say this with great affection. His language of love is disturbance. He’s a great listener also.”

“Disturbance as a love language, huh?” you chuckled, taking another sip of your coffee. “Sounds... intriguing.”

“Oh, it is,” Mitsuri replied, her grin widening. “But you'll love him. Jeonghan has this way of making everyone feel at ease, like he’s scheming something, but in a way that makes you curious rather than nervous. He’s got that kind of charm.”

You couldn’t help but smile, her enthusiasm contagious. It was clear she held a deep affection for the group, which eased some of your anxieties about stepping into your new role. If they were anything like Mitsuri described, you had a feeling this job, though challenging, might also be a lot of fun.

As the conversation continued, Mitsuri moved on to talk about Joshua, the group's resident gentleman, and his impeccable manners that somehow made his occasional mischievous moments more surprising. Then there was Seungkwan, who, according to Mitsuri, was a whirlwind of energy and emotion, a living embodiment of both comedy and heartfelt sincerity.

“Don’t even get me started on him,” Mitsuri said, shaking her head fondly. “Seungkwan’s like a serotonin boost in human form. But be prepared, he’ll probably want your opinion on everything, from wardrobe choices to which snacks should be stocked in this bedroom.”

You laughed. “I’ll keep that in mind. He sounds like he’d be hard to say no to.”

“Oh, he is,” she confirmed with a mock-serious nod. “And then there’s Mingyu…” Mitsuri’s tone shifted slightly, a hint of something playful but cautious creeping into her voice. “You’ve already met him, right?”

“Briefly,’ you said, keeping your tone neutral. “We were introduced through Jungkook a while back.”

Mitsuri hummed thoughtfully. “Well, Mingyu is... Mingyu,” she said finally, her words laced with amusement. “He’s an absolute sweetheart. Tall, a bit clumsy, but honestly one of the kindest people you’ll ever meet. Not to mention, he’s ridiculously good-looking.” She smirked. “He’s got this... aura about him. Basically the human equivalent of a golden retriever. But don’t let that fool you. He’s a flirt, and he knows it.”

A shiver ran down your spine. Oh, you knew it too.

You wanted to smile at the fact that, despite everything, Mingyu was still the same, but you held yourself back. Every detail Mitsuri described knocked on the door to the basement of your heart, bringing back a faint sense of familiarity you hadn’t realized was still lingering there. It felt like looking at a photo of someone you used to know.

You just nodded, filing away the information.

“He’s a perfectionist, though, so don’t be surprised if he’s the one asking for adjustments on his outfits the most.”

You let out a soft laugh, shaking your head. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

“Trust me,” Mitsuri said, leaning back in her chair. “You’re about to experience the Mingyu Effect firsthand. And once you do, there’s no going back.”

You knew she was right. You had lived through it, you were more than familiar with it.

Mitsuri had moved on to the next member, and you were lifting your coffee to your lips, laughing at her description of Hoshi, when your attention shifted to the counter. You analyzed a group of four guys who had just entered the cafeteria, causing several heads to turn in their direction.

They all had their backs turned to you and Mitsuri. The first one had black hair, and despite his small stature, his physique was strong and well-proportioned. The second one wasn’t much taller, with a lean, toned physique and brownish hair. The guy who came right after him had light brown hair as well, but his muscular, athletic build—with broad shoulders and strong arms—made him clearly the second tallest of the group.

The last one of the group was much taller than the rest, with a long, muscular torso that clearly drew attention wherever he went, including from the group of girls sitting just a few inches away from him. His black hair was a little messy, falling over his ears and you could see the muscles on his back through the fabric of the white shirt he was wearing.

From that angle, he looked like thousands of other ordinary men in Seoul, but you knew exactly who he was.

It was as if he had been summoned.

Unable to look away, you were paralyzed, waiting for the moment when he would turn around and spot you, right in his line of sight, after nearly two weeks since you told him you would think about it and had remained completely radio silent.

“Y/N?" Mitsuri calls out to you, following the direction of your gaze. You hold your breath for a moment, relieved when a group of staff members stepped into her line of sight. "Is everything okay?”

You blink, stunned. This couldn't be happening. “Uh... Yeah. I... I just…” You trail off, searching for the right words, but your mind feels foggy as you try to focus on anything else but the man standing across the room.

You looked back at the counter and saw his eyes locked on you, his face completely incredulous, as if he was feeling the same way you were about him: like the sight of you there was some sort of figment of his imagination. He blinked a few times and you swallowed hard.

The moment you saw his feet moving, instinct takes over your body, and a surge of self-preservation propels you out of your chair.

“I'm sorry, Storm,” you said, glancing at her. “I have to go.”

She looks puzzled by your sudden behavior but simply says, “Oh, it's okay.”

“I just remembered I need to make some adjustments, and…” Your eyes dart up, catching sight of him coming closer. “Yeah. I'll see you tomorrow. Thanks for everything.”

You grab your bag, sling it over your shoulder, and rushes between the tables, darting out of the cafeteria at a speed you didn’t know was humanly possible. Without daring to look back, you hurry toward the elevator's hallway, your heart racing, unsure if he’s following you or not.

The elevator doors seem to take an eternity to open as you anxiously tap all them, stealing quick glances over your shoulder. Each second feels like a lifetime, your heart pounding in your ears, drowning out the hum of the bustling building.

You silently beg for the elevator to arrive, gripping the strap of your bag so tightly your knuckles ache. Just as the sign shows it’s on the 9th floor, you catch sight of him stepping into the hallway, his tall figure unmistakable even from a distance.

“Y/N.”

The sound of his voice calling out your name freezes you in place, sending another chill down your spine again. You feel the weight of his gaze even before you turn to meet it, and you swallow hard again, hand hovering over the elevator button as you consider your options. Run, face him, pretend you didn’t hear him—none of them feel like the right answer.

You glance over your shoulder, trying to appear composed, though every nerve in your body is screaming to run. Mingyu is just a few feet away now, his expression a mix of disbelief and something you can’t quite place. Relief? Confusion? Frustration? Maybe all three.

“Y/N,” he calls once more, and this time, you can hear the unmistakable urgency in his voice. The gentle way he says your name tugs at something inside you, making it even harder to stand your ground.

The elevator dings, its doors sliding open, offering an escape route. You hesitate, torn between stepping inside and hearing what he has to say. Suddenly, your feet seem to have forgotten their purpose right at the moment that you wanted to shield yourself from the storm brewing between you and the man standing behind you.

“Y/N. Seriously?” he says softly, his tone carrying a thousand unspoken meanings.

You exhale sharply, your resolve crumbling at the vulnerability in his tone. Slowly, you turn to face him, your bag still clutched tightly against your side. His dark eyes lock onto yours, searching for something, though you’re not sure what.

“Please,” he says, his voice quieter now, almost pleading. “Just give me a minute.”

“Hi," you finally manage to say. You’re trying to figure out what to say, but your head is filled with a jumble of meaningless words. Hi? Really? Who, in their right mind, says something as dumb as 'Hi' at a time like this?

"Are you...?" he begins, his voice breathless. "Why are you avoiding me?"

You blink, caught off guard by his question. For a moment, you're paralyzed, unable to respond. It feels as though time slows, the noise of the building fading into the background as his voice echoes in your mind.

It wasn’t exactly your intention to avoid him, but lately, it seemed like that was your only response to everything being thrown your way.

You open your mouth, but the words don’t come out right away. “I’m not... I wasn’t…” You trail off, unsure of how to even begin explaining. “I didn't mean to,” you finally say, your voice barely above a whisper. You take a step back, trying to create some space between you two, but his gaze doesn’t waver.

“You didn’t mean to what?” His voice is softer now, tinged with something that sounds like frustration, but also concern.

You glance down, feeling the weight of everything you’ve been trying to avoid coming back to you all at once. You want to tell him everything—the reasons you’ve kept your distance, the mess of emotions tangled up in your heart—but it’s too much to say all at once. It’s too raw, too complicated. You need to be mentally and emotionally prepared for a conversation like this.

He stared at you for a beat longer, his brows furrowing as if he were trying to read you. It felt like he was slowly beginning to grasp the weight of the situation, the realization dawning on him bit by bit. “It’s been a long time.”

“Yeah,” you replied, your throat tight. The tension between you felt palpable, like you were both standing on the edge of something you weren’t ready to face yet. “It has.”

His voice was laced with something that sounded almost… regretful as he said, “I didn’t think I’d ever see you again after...”

You blinked, taken aback by the rawness in his tone. “Yeah. Neither did I.”

But your confusion only deepened with every word he said. He was the one who left. He was the one who disappeared without a trace after that last day. He was the one who had shoved that NDA down your throat. And yet, here he was, looking at you like he hadn’t wanted that.

You couldn’t make sense of it.

The air between you felt thick, suffocating you in this huge hallway. You looked away, trying to steady your breath, trying to keep control. But his presence was overwhelming, stirring things inside you that you didn't even know how to explain without seeming like you were still madly in love with him.

Because you weren't.

You were hopelessly in love with Jungkook and only him.

“Mingyu,” you said, struggling to swallow the lump in your throat as you speak his name out loud for the first time. “I’m sorry, but I have to go. I have a meeting in fifteen minutes.”

He leaned down, his face leveling with yours.

“Are you kidding me?” His eyes were wild, full of disbelief. He took a step forward while you took one back, your back hitting the metal of the elevator doors. “You think I’m just going to bump into you again, say ‘Hey, Y/N, what’s up?’ and let you walk away again? Just like that? No more words, no more talking for another four fucking years? Have you even thought about talking at all?”

Your breath catches at his words, and for a moment, everything feels like it’s collapsing in on you. You wanted to make sense of what he meant by emphasizing the word again. But at the same time, you were afraid that knowing might make things inside you worse. His intensity, the raw emotion in his voice, it’s all so much harder to face than you ever expected.

“I'm not ready for this conversation yet,” you admit quietly, looking away from him to stare at your own shoes.

“You need to be ready to talk to me?”

“If there’s anyone I need to be ready for, it’s you,” you admitted, your voice almost low enough that he wouldn't hear. But he did. You saw it in the way his entire face seemed to contort in pain, exactly like the pain twisting in your own chest.

“I just need…” he begins, searching for your gaze. “How are you? How long have you been back?”

“I’m fine,” you answered mechanically. “I got back in August.”

For the last four years, you've been angry, convincing yourself you were above it all, but just one single look at his face was enough to make you understand that you weren't.

Quite the opposite, actually.

Somehow, you're holding it together, barely managing to keep your composure, but you knew that if you stayed even a second longer, you wouldn't be able to keep it up. The way Mingyu's face seems to mirror the confusion that's going on in your head, combined with only two hours of sleep and no clue when this day would end, is too much for you to handle right now. You need to get out before everything unravels.

“I have to go,” you say, your voice suddenly desperate. “Okay?”

Before he could respond, you turned and walked away, heading straight for the first elevator with its doors wide open. You’re aware he could’ve caught up to you in a few quick steps, his long legs easily closing the distance, but he doesn’t. And as the elevator jolts downward to the 15th floor, you couldn’t shake the feeling that he's still there, just behind you.

When Choi Arin finally arrived at your studio, around three in the afternoon, your nerves had completely calmed, though a throbbing pain in your head prevented you from thinking clearly enough to continue sewing the gold studs onto the leather of the black jacket that would soon belong to Wonwoo.

To your surprise, she didn’t say much, simply asking you to follow her—and so you did. Now, the two of you were trapped in the elevator, traveling from the 15th floor to the 6th in almost complete silence, the only sound being the soft hum of the metal.

You glanced at her from the corner of your eye, but she remained unchanged: her gaze was focused on the metal doors, her posture erect, hands clasped behind her back.

Her demeanor almost made her seem like a strict high school principal, but she was much younger than you had anticipated. If it weren’t for the badge hanging from her neck, clearly marking her position within the company, you might have easily mistaken her for one of the company’s female artists, especially considering her striking beauty.

“How has your first day been so far?” she finally asked, turning her body slightly to look at you. Her eyes are piercingly intimidating, yet her voice remained calm and gentle, echoing through the elevator.

You felt the weight of her gaze, the intensity of her presence making it hard to keep your composure. It's as if she’s already assessing you, measuring you in ways you aren't prepared for. You straighten your posture, trying to mask the nerves bubbling up inside of you.

“It’s been... busy,” you replied, trying to keep your tone light, though her intense gaze still made you feel on edge all over again. “I’ve been mostly settling in and getting familiar with the team. There’s a lot to process, but it’s all exciting.”

Arin nodded thoughtfully, her expression unreadable as she listened. “I’m glad to hear that. Transitioning into a new role, especially one like this, is never easy.” Her gaze briefly flicked down to your sketchbook, which you clutched in your hands. “I’ve heard you worked with Bangtan Sonyeondan before.”

You nodded, feeling a hint of pride. “Yeah, I worked with them for a while.”

At that moment, you assumed she would start a conversation about your past work experience, as most people in this field flipped out with excitement when they learned you were responsible for securing Dua Lipa a million-dollar contract with Versace or how you had styled BTS for the VOGUE X GQ Korea 2022 January issue and the Grammy’s.

But you couldn't be more wrong.

The way she clicked her tongue and pressed the button to stop the elevator on the eighth floor made her intentions very clear, exactly as Stormi had predicted: she wanted to intimidate you.

“This isn’t like the last time you worked here, so I would like to clear a few things up.”

Arin’s voice remained calm, but there was an edge to it now, one that made the air between you feel thick. She stood straight, her posture unwavering, as if she were delivering a warning she expected you to understand without questioning.

“First of all,” she began. “I don’t like you and that’s not going to change. If it was it for me, you wouldn't have been hired. I know your history and I don't approve of it. I’m the supervisor here, which means you answer to me. I don’t care that you have experience in this field or that your boyfriend is famous. I’m the one in charge here.”

The weight of Arin’s words hitted you like a physical blow, each one cutting deeper than the last, the abrupt shift in tone catching you off guard. You tried to keep your face neutral, but it was hard when everything inside you screamed to respond. You had worked for years to earn your place in this industry, to get to a position where you could walk into any room with confidence. But here, in front of Arin, that confidence felt like it was slowly slipping away.

“I don’t care how many people you’ve worked with, how many magazines you’ve graced, or how many contracts you’ve secured. None of that matters here. This is a different ball game, and the rules are mine. You follow them, or you’re out.”

You could feel your pulse quicken, and for a moment, you wondered if you should just walk away. But you knew that would be foolish. No matter how much Arin seemed to want to break you down, you weren’t the kind of person to let someone like her get the best of you.

“I understand,” you replied, keeping your voice steady.

"I expect you to follow protocol exactly as it's laid out, no exceptions," she said, leaning forward slightly. "And whatever personal connections you might have? Leave them at the door. This is a professional environment, and I won’t tolerate anything less than that."

You took a steadying breath, forcing yourself to remain composed. "Understood," you said evenly, meeting her eyes.

Her lips curled into a tight smile, but it wasn’t warm. “I want you to know that there will be no fraternizing with any of the group members. If you do, you’ll be fired. Do you understand?”

The intensity of her statement lingered in the air, her piercing gaze challenging you to flinch. But you didn’t. You square your shoulders and met her eyes, willing your voice to stay firm. “Crystal clear,” you replied.

“This is a very different environment,” she continued, her eyes locking with yours, as if daring you to challenge her. “Here, we don’t do things the way you might be used to. There’s no room for mistakes, no room for error. We work fast, we work hard, and we work with a level of professionalism that you might not have encountered before. I trust you understand that.”

You resisted the urge to roll your eyes, her subtle jab not lost on you. Instead, you forced a polite nod, your expression calm despite the fire building in your chest. “Yes. And I respect your position. I’m here to do my job, and I intend to do it well.”

“We’ll see about that. I have my doubts. I hope you prove me wrong.”

You nodded again, not trusting yourself to speak. The pressure in the air felt suffocating, but you could tell that Arin wasn’t finished yet.

“You’ll be working under my direct supervision,” she continued, her tone sharper now. “And if I catch even the slightest hint that you're not living up to the standard I expect, you’ll be gone before you even realize what happened. Got it?”

You didn't even know if she had the power to do it, but it was clear that there was no room for negotiation. It was clear that Arin wasn’t interested in a discussion, only in making sure you knew exactly where you stood in this power dynamic.

“Got it,” you said again, your words tight but firm.

“I’m in charge here,” she adds again. “Anything I need goes through me.”

“Sounds good.”

“I don’t know how your last experience here worked, and I don’t care. Anything goes down with you and someone in the group, you’re fired. Remember one thing: I have eyes everywhere.”

The repetition of her words didn’t escape you, but you didn’t feel the need to comment on it. Arin was clearly intent on asserting dominance and testing how far she could push you. It was as if she needed to keep reminding you of the same boundaries, like she was trying to convince herself more than anything else.

You noticed the way her eyes kept scanning you, searching for cracks in your composure. It was strange—almost obsessive, as if she feared that a single slip-up would unravel everything. You could feel her frustration simmering just beneath the surface, her control slipping in these subtle ways that only someone used to being in power would notice. You almost wondered what it was about you that made her so intent on stamping out any hint of rebellion.

“Understood,” you repeated, careful to keep your tone neutral. Your mind was already spinning with the implications of her words.

You had worked in this industry for a long time, and Arin’s rules seemed arbitrary, almost paranoid. She couldn’t control everything, and if she didn’t relax, her insecurity would show.

You still had a job to do, and you weren’t about to let anyone make you doubt your place. “I’m here to work,” you said, trying to keep the slight edge from your voice. “And I’ll follow the protocol, exactly as you laid it out. No issues.”

Arin paused for a moment, studying you intently, as if she were searching for any hint of insincerity. But when her gaze softened, even just a fraction, you knew that she was registering your compliance. It wasn’t the warmth of trust, just the relief of a brief moment of silence where she wasn’t feeling threatened.

“Good,” she said at last, her voice slightly less sharp, though still guarded. “I expect no less.”

She pressed the button and the elevator started moving again with a jolt that almost made you lose your balance.

When you exited the elevator, you walked behind her until you reached one of the rooms, marked with a sign that reads: SEVENTEEN - Do Not Disturb - Rehearsal.

“Welcome to the team,” Arin said over her shoulder, her tone colder than the temperature of the hallway. It wasn’t a greeting—it was more of a command. And then she opened the door to the practice room.

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