#now to see if they fixed the back part of his hair
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moon-ttokki-x · 2 days ago
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safe - skz x 9th member!reader
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pairing: ot8!skz x 9th member!reader
summary: skz helps you out when you're struggling with burnout and bad habits.
genre: fluff, idol! au, very angsty, descriptions of eating disorders, destructive habits, mentions of blood, fainting, throwing up (nothing graphic), reader is struggling with lots of thoughts, fluffy ending. read at your own risk.
a/n: i felt like it was time to write something that hits a little closer to home... hopefully it helps some of you out. my dms are always open to talk if you need it, and if you ever feel like reader does, please know that things do get better <3 divider by @iluvrei
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The lights are too bright.
You blink harshly, trying to clear your vision of tears. Glancing across, you check to see if the boys have noticed anything. They haven't, too focused on the video of the choreography. They're all dripping with sweat, hair mussed, brows furrowed in concentration, and so are you, but you just can't focus right.
Not even if you tried. Because you can't do anything right.
Minho hums and notes down a couple things before signalling to start the choreography again. You move into your position and place a hand on Jisung's shoulder as you all fan out. The music blasts and leaves high-pitched ringing noises in your ears as you dance.
A hollow pang thuds dully in your stomach but you ignore it, instead focusing on copying Hyunjin's moves and moving into the next part of the song. By this point, you've forgotten the choreography and you want nothing more than to just sit down.
Focus, Y/n. Ignore it.
But you can't, too focused on just staying upright and keeping up with the rest of the boys. Even Felix, who tends to get tired the easiest, is dancing at full power, his eyes fixed on the mirror, adjusting and executing with perfect precision. The sight of it makes you feel even more run down and your temples throb when you stand back up into position for the main chorus.
Your energy finally runs out halfway through the choreo and you simply drop to your knees, hitting them hard on the polished floor. A chorus of groans sound out as Jeongin jogs to the speaker to stop the music.
"Y/n," Hyunjin groans, hands on his knees. Sweat drips from his hair. "We were almost finished, now we have to start again-"
He's cut off as a panting Chan waves his hand dismissively. "Take a break, guys. You okay, Y/nnie?"
You nod tiredly and look down at the floor, trying hard not to cry. That awful sour feeling takes a firm hold on your jaw and you gulp, like there's something stuck in your throat. The rest of the boys pay you no mind, chattering and bickering as they take swigs from water bottles and flick sweat from their hair.
Concert practice has been more than tiring, to say the least. Despite the tiredness and fatigue hanging in the air, the boys seem reasonably cheerful; pushing through with smiles on their faces. But being the youngest member of Stray Kids, there's only so much you can take on before it gets too much. You don't remember the last time you slept for more than four hours or ate a proper meal.
So while the others begin to move back into position, you stay on your hands and knees on the floor, gasping for air and feeling that terrible hollow pang gnaw at the lining of your stomach. A headache settles firmly between your eyes and your vision blurs, and it takes all your strength to even breathe.
Don't cry, you tell yourself harshly.
By now, Chan is kneeling beside you, a hand on your back. He knows how hard you've been working, especially since you just joined the production side of things, and he whispers a few reassuring phrases before standing up and offering you a hand.
Your eyes follow him as he rises from the floor, and a sudden burst of irritation shoots through you like lightning. Swatting his hand away and then immediately feeling terrible and selfish for it, you stand and brush yourself off, walking away without a word.
Chan stares after you just as Felix walks up.
"Is she okay?" The younger boy whispers.
Chan shrugs, brows furrowing in concern. "I don't know, Lix. I think she's just stressed with all the concert preparation."
"I mean," Felix begins as the music starts to play again, "She is the youngest of us. Maybe it's getting too much for her, hyung."
Maybe, Chan thinks as he moves into his position, watching as you do the same.
.
The rest of the day is uneventful; you spend most of it running between photoshoots, vocal lessons, rehearsals, and dress fittings for the upcoming concerts. It's all a blur, and by the time you open the door to the Minsung dorm, you're exhausted.
Minho and Jisung are already back from practice, since you'd opted to stay longer to perfect the choreo. Your body had been against it but you pushed through anyway, and you're beginning to slightly regret it as you almost stumble while shutting the door behind yourself.
Minho is in the kitchen, chopping something up; Jisung is lounging on the couch, watching something on his phone. The air smells rich and meaty, and normally you'd sneak into the kitchen for a taste of whatever Minho is preparing, but the singular thought of it makes you feel tense and nauseous.
You opt to grab only a new bottle of water before heading to your room. Minho looks up in surprise; he had been preparing to fight off a nosy, hungry Y/n, but you walk straight past him without even a hello. You do the same to Jisung and shut your bedroom door quietly, sinking down against it without a word.
You feel terrible about ignoring them; after all, they're your friends, but you just don't have it in you today to talk. Or dance or sing, or do anything at all. Everything feels dull and grey save for the hot tears that begin to soak the damp, musky fabric of your shirt.
Deciding to shower, you pick yourself up from the floor after a while and move sluggishly to the bathroom. You scrub until your skin is red and tingling and pull harshly at your hair while brushing it out before slipping on the first clothes you see in the drawer; a hoodie and sweats, all black.
Collapsing onto your bed, you open your phone and immediately regret it; the blue glare makes your head throb so harshly that you have to fight to urge to lean over the bed and throw up. You cover your mouth just in case, though there isn't even anything in your stomach to warrant the action anyway. You take a weak swing of water as a remedy and collapse back into the pillows, feeling exhausted but not tired enough to sleep.
Your stomach rumbles and you think briefly about sneaking into the kitchen after Minho and Jisung have gone to sleep, but you hold yourself back and roll over, gritting your teeth. Someone knocks on the door.
"Y/nnie!" Jisung calls from the other side of the door. "Come and eat something."
You ignore him, hoping that he'll think you've fallen asleep. You check the time; it's definitely late enough for that to be true. You wait with bated breath until you hear footsteps walking away.
You stomach growls more insistently and you press a disapproving hand over it, quieting the pangs as you turn over to try and sleep.
You can go one more day.
.
The next morning, you wake up early and decide to head to practice before Minho and Jisung can keep you back and make you eat something. You know for sure they've noticed the change in your eating habits, so you take a plate and break up a piece of toast, sprinkling crumbs so it looks like you've eaten. You throw the bread into the bin and leave your plate on the table before leaving.
Opening the door to the dance studio, you notice Chan, Changbin, Hyunjin, Jeongin, and Seungmin all up early too, rehearsing the choreo, messing about, or talking. Or, in Hyunjin's case, all three. You duck to the side and head to the opposite side of the room, as far away from Chan as possible.
Him being here isn't good; you know for sure, after how exhausted you were yesterday, he'll try and check in with you. And it wouldn't be hard for him to decipher what's been happening; the pale pallor of your face, the bones of your wrists more prominent than before, and of course the constant sluggishness, fatigue, and dizziness that you've forced yourself to endure for the past few days.
You busy yourself with unnecessarily reorganizing the items in your bag, trying to ignore how bright the lights are. It feels like a spotlight.
"Hi, Y/n."
You look up to see Jeongin standing next to you, smiling in a white shirt and basketball shorts. His hair is ruffled, and somewhere in the cold, dead depths of your hardly-beating heart, you realise it's because the boys have been messing it up with their constant affection of the maknae. The thought makes you feel nothing. You are numb.
You don't reply, instead giving him a curt nod and picking up your waterbottle. You walk and place it on the cabinets against the back wall just as the others filter into the room. Jeongin shrugs and decides to leave you alone, apparently unbothered by your lack of response. Maybe he thought you were just tired.
Good, you think grimly. I don't want him to notice, nor do I care if he does. Just leave me alone.
Your eyes flicker to Jisung and Minho as they move to put their belongings down. Jisung immediately goes off to mess with Felix, who is still sleepily waddling across the floorboards to Changbin. You look away, but not before your eyes catch Minho's. He locks his gaze with you and raises a pointed eyebrow, silently questioning.
You look away quickly, gritting your teeth so hard you swear you can taste blood. Your heart jerks and starts, sending a racing thud reverberating through the hollow shell of your body.
He knows. He knows. He knows.
You see him begin to move towards you in your peripheral and you exhale when Chan claps his hands, moving to start the practice. Despite how much your head hurts, and the fact that you can hardly see let alone dance, you're grateful for the interruption, and dedicate your entire focus to the choreography.
Minho eyes you during a slower part of the routine but you don't look at him. Or anyone. The most you do is glance at Seungmin to check if he's placed where he needs to be before you move past him to the middle. Your vision deteriorates and drowns into dizzy black spots with every movement, but you push on.
Your head pulses dully with an aching pain and there's simply no energy left in your body. You grit your teeth and keep going, trying to will strength from within.
I can last til the end of the choreo. Just a little longer-
You exhale sharply and suddenly then, as if you've been punched hard in the gut. Your vision clouds over completely and you briefly panic as you can't see anything, but you find your limbs still moving. The last thing you know before you pass out is the feeling of the cold, polished floor against your cheek, a dull thud against your head, and a panicked yell from one of the members.
You close your eyes.
.
"Y/n. Y/nnie, wake up..."
"Is she okay?"
"Did anyone see what happened?"
"Y/n!"
Groggily, you open your eyes, and immediately hiss from the glare of the bright white lights above you. You're lying on the floor, where you dizzily remember yourself falling. You try and weakly lift a hand to cover your eyes, until Chan's head and broad shoulders moves into view above you, blocking it completely.
You exhale a small sigh of relief, even though the swimming black dots in your vision are making it hard for you to see anything at all. Your head throbs even worse than before; you must have hit it before you fell and passed out.
Even through all of that, you can see the look on Chan's face; half concern, the other half an equal mix of affection and sternness. You can't do anything but let out a weak groan as someone kneels down next to you, pressing something cold to the back of your neck.
"Take it easy," you hear Changbin saying from above you. You feel a pair of strong arms lift you to a sitting position and the movement makes a swelling pang of dizziness shoot through your skull like hot lightning. You feel sick and feverish.
"Y/n," you hear Chan saying through the haze. "What happened?"
You can't hold back the tears from spilling down your cheeks, however dehydrated you are. They just keep coming and someone else wipes them away with a gentle brush of fingers.
This is your fault. You can't even keep up with them and now you're wasting their time by making them take care of you. Way to go, Y/n. Absolutely pathetic.
That same rush of irritation shoots through you again and you push Changbin's hands away from your shoulders. "Leave me alone."
He looks surprised but backs off anyway. Your vision clears momentarily and it's then that you notice all of the boys are standing around you, most of them in various stages of concern and confusion. You notice Felix tightly clutching Hyunjin's hand in worry, Jisung biting at his lip. Jeongin looks upset too, and even Seungmin has the decency to look mildly put out.
"Why aren't any of you dancing?" You say, confused.
"Because," Hyunjin puffs out dramatically, "One of our members decided to die in the middle of the choreography."
Ignoring the younger's comment, Chan places a gentle hand on your thigh. "Y/nnie, please talk to us. We're all worried. What happened?"
You scoff weakly and push Chan's hand away too, even though his warm, solid touch is comforting. He pulls back, looking mildly hurt, and you instantly kick yourself for it. It's Chan. Why did you have to go and do that?
"Nothing," you say. "I'm fine."
He lets out an exasperated groan and there are a few protests from the rest of the group. "Y/n, you literally collapsed on us. And you don't look well at all. Have you been sleeping lately?"
"Yes." Lie.
"Have you been pushing yourself too hard?"
"No." Lie.
"When was the last time you ate something?"
"This morning." Also a lie.
"We're not dumb, Y/n," Minho interrupts from where he's crouching near you. "I mean, we are sometimes, but we're not clueless, especially when it comes to you. Please let us in."
I can't.
"Okay," you whisper weakly, because you don't have the energy to argue. You feel so incredibly embarrassed and humiliated.
Chan sighs and hands you a bottle of water. You take a swig before putting it down.
"Practice is off, everyone," he says. "Let's regroup tomorrow. Good work."
"What are you doing?" You say on an exhale.
"Taking you home," he says firmly. "There's no way you're going to keep practicing after this. You need to rest and eat well for a while before you can join back in."
Your heart thuds hollowly in your chest. "But-"
"No buts. Please, Y/n. It's okay if you're not doing well, and we don't have to talk about it if you aren't ready, but we're not going to stand by and let you suffer like this, yeah?"
"Plus," Felix adds softly as he sits down next to you, "It's no fun when you're not around, so hurry and get better so you can join in again."
You look to Chan, defeated tears welling up in your eyes. You spot the slightest waver in his expression, but it remains firm and he helps you stand shakily to your feet without a word.
Minho walks over just as Jisung folds you into his arms, kissing the crown of your head.
"I'm sorry," you whimper to no one in particular.
"Shh, it's okay," Minho says, "Let's just get you back home and then you can rest, okay?"
You nod and let them lead you out the door.
.
The tangy fruitiness of the juice sends little bursts of flavour down your throat, and you sip a little more before placing the glass on your bedside table. You're looking out the window, though the curtains are drawn, and your hair is a mess, having slept ruffled against the pillow for around three hours now. The sun is beginning to set.
Jisung comes into the room, followed by Chan. You look towards them and sit a little higher up on the pillows as Jisung smooths a hand over your forehead.
"How are you feeling, Y/n?" Chan asks carefully as he sits on the bed.
"Better," you say quietly, even though certain thoughts still linger in the back of your mind.
"It's good that you slept a while," he continues. "Looked like you needed it."
"Yeah."
The room is silent for a while, and Jisung lies down next to you, his face pressed into your thigh. He lets out a muffled happy sound just as Minho comes into your room, holding a tray of soup.
He sets it down on the bedside table along with a banana, a glass of water, and a small packet of your favourite sweets before shamelessly flopping down onto the bed, making himself comfortable. Chan sighs before his hand reaches out to cover yours, which is picking at the blanket.
"Y/n," he says softly. "It's okay if you're struggling."
You shake your head, though what you're disagreeing with, you're not sure.
"It's okay," Chan says again. "It can be a lot, I know. And it's completely alright if you just need to take a break, yeah? That's allowed. But please don't punish yourself for it. You do so well and work so hard, and I know it feels wrong when you don't shine as much as you want to."
You stay silent, the sorrow beginning to weigh down on you again.
"Y/nnie," Chan says gently. "You can talk to us, okay? If you're struggling to take care of yourself, or if it's all just getting too much, come to us. We're all in the same boat."
"More like stuck with us in the same boat," Minho snickers from his position on top of Jisung.
Chan slaps the boy's thigh without taking his gaze off you. Ignoring Minho's whine of pain, he leans forward and brushes a strand of hair out of your face. The simple gesture is so gentle and reassuring that tears well up in your eyes again, and you thank your stars that Jisung has plenty of electrolyte drinks in the kitchen because of how dehydrated you're becoming because of the crying.
"I'm sorry," you whisper.
"It's okay, Y/n," Jisung hums from your thigh. "We all have bad days."
"Just please, please come to us if you're not doing well, okay?" Chan says. "We all love you very much, and none of us want you to be struggling alone."
As if the universe has magically decided to prove his point, the door flies open and Hyunjin and Seungmin crash onto the floor, followed by a giggling Jeongin and Felix. Changbin stands disapprovingly behind them.
Chan presses two fingers to the bridge of his nose. "For goodness' sake."
But his words are drowned out by the mad scramble of the boys clambering onto your bed, heaping themselves on top of you in a mess of bickering, singing, and arguing.
Felix presses his cheek to yours. "I missed you."
You exhale a tiny laugh. "I wasn't even gone a day, Felix."
"I know," he replies earnestly. "But I missed you anyway. I wanted more than anything for you to be okay."
"Me too," Jeongin interrupts indignantly.
"Yeah, me too," Changbin adds matter-of-factly as he makes himself comfy on top of a squashed Hyunjin.
"Say you wanted her to be okay too, Seungmin!" Jisung pokes him hard in the ribs.
All you get in response is a begrudging nod and it makes the rest of the group burst out into laughter. Even Chan can't fight a fond smile.
And even if you're not doing well at the moment, you know in that moment that the rest of the members will always be there to fall back on, and the thought makes you relax, finally, your mind quieting and replacing the hollow feeling in your heart with a solid, steady warmth.
You are safe.
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a/n: this was was longer than i anticipated
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videokilled · 1 day ago
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Vox finally got to the car and pulled the driver door but didn’t get in yet. He just needed to know the car would start. That this hadn’t gone wrong. And it did. Easily. Beautiful technology.
He sighed out a breath heavily, and heard Alastor collapse onto the car’s floor.
“Yup.” He said clipped and turned on the car’s heat. Blasting it. Then shut the door without getting inside.
He just needed a release. A fucking second. Expecting them to be ruined. He pulled out his pack of cigarettes and they were indeed smashed and soaked through. He spiked them at the ground then pulled the phone out and did the same- and punched the tree closest to him. Then again, and again. Just enough to feel like he had vented most of whatever was building beneath his skin. The pain in his knuckles also somewhat helped.
Vox took a very deep breath and adjusted his muddy and soaked through sweater as if it weren’t. A part of this was upset that it was ruined at all. He had liked this gift. Then pushed his hair back with both hands. Too wet. He took a moment to squeegee out any extra water then pushed his hair back again. Fixed the sleeves of his sweater as well as he exhaled heavily again. He was calm. He was in control. This was all manageable.
He would find a lone cop. Someone who reliably had a firearm. They were slow to tracking that shit. At least they had been awhile ago.
Vox sighed again much more controlled now that the seeing red had subsided.
Making his way back to the car he finally looked down at his knuckles that were indeed bleeding profusely. That wasn’t ideal. They didn’t really have any extra fabric.
The car door opened and Vox sat in the driver’s seat. Trying to ignore the dizziness that clawed at him. And did so very well outwardly. He knew how to harness adrenaline and running from the law was something he actually had a decade or so of experience in.
Vox leaned back just to put eyes on Alastor briefly. And just started driving. The blood running down his hands but it would stop soon enough.
“Here we go.”
Vox turned away and dry heaved when Alastor threw up. His stomach weak even in its prime much less the pitiful state they were both in right now.
He pulled himself upright more. Then struggled, and just awkwardly crawled onto more solid ground where he could stand.
The warbling of the air was farther away but they were no where near safe. He grabbed Alastor by the back of his shirt and hauled him upright as best as he could. And was immediately aggravated by the apology.
“Shut up. It doesn’t matter. Get up.” He fixed his grip on Alastor’s shirt pushing him further along to get out of the muck.
Once they were both standing on hard ground finally- Vox let out a stressed and pressured laugh as he looked back toward the waters and once again saw an alligator creeping toward them. Still creeping toward them. The water around it jumping and rattling with the vibrations and hissing it gave off. It lunged at them just a second after Vox saw it. Rushing forward with its mouth hinging open. But stopped a few feet from them. Just hissing and then sliding back slowly. Territorial.
Vox screamed either way hurrying to scramble backwards and tripped, falling straight to his butt. But the thing backed off, so he hurriedly got back to his feet.
“I need a gun.” Vox said desperately. “Holy shit I need a gun.” He didn’t really wait for Alastor’s impression and just shoved him along to keep walking toward where he hoped the car was. Everything around him was starting to look the same.
After stumbling and trudging along for another several minutes in their mud lodged drenched clothes. The car finally did come into view. Vox desperately dug out the car key from his pant pocket and sighed when he had it in hand.
“Move your ass faster.” He hissed. He was shivering again from walking around in the clammy weather in soaked clothes. Vox was doing his best to not exclaim how much he HATED this area. It was carnivorous. The whole lot of it.
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dreamauri · 9 hours ago
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♪ — 𝗦𝗧𝗔𝗬 𝗔 𝗟𝗜𝗧𝗧𝗟𝗘 𝗟𝗢𝗡𝗚𝗘𝗥 lando norris x  fem! reader (angst) fic summary . . . after a brutal fight where Yn accuses Lando of being a heartless playboy, she realizes the truth behind his shattered expression—he’s been in love with her all along. part 2 to all I've ever wanted (622words)
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( my master list | more of lando norris ) ( requests )
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Two days.
It had been two days since you’d shouted at Lando, and the words you threw at him still echoed in your head like a bad song on repeat. Every time you thought about his face—how he looked at you like you’d ripped his heart out and stomped on it—you felt like the worst person alive.
Because you were the worst person alive.
You’d been friends with Lando for years. You knew him better than anyone… or at least you thought you did. But maybe you never really let yourself see the truth. The boy beneath the jokes and the charm. The one who loved you so much it broke him.
And God, you’d hurt him. Bad.
That’s why you were standing outside his apartment now, heart hammering against your ribs like it wanted to break out and sprint down the hall.
You raised your hand and knocked, the sound loud against the door. “Lando? It’s me. I… I want to talk.”
Silence.
But you could hear the TV blaring inside. Some stupid show, the laugh track playing like a cruel joke. He was definitely in there.
A beat later, the TV clicked off.
You almost laughed, almost, because seriously? Did he really think you didn’t hear that?
“Lando,” you sighed, pressing your forehead against the door. “I know you’re in there.”
More silence.
Your chest tightened. He wasn’t going to let you in. You deserved that, honestly. But you weren’t leaving without saying what you needed to.
“I’m sorry.” Your voice cracked, but you kept going. “I was… I was awful to you. I said things I didn’t mean, and I didn’t take you seriously when I should’ve. You’ve always been there for me, and I—” You swallowed hard, the lump in your throat making it hard to breathe. “I hurt you, and I hate that I did. I’m so fucking sorry, Lando.”
You waited. One second. Two. Ten. Nothing.
The weight of his silence crushed you. Maybe he’d never forgive you. Maybe you’d broken something that couldn’t be fixed.
With a heavy sigh, you turned to leave, your footsteps echoing in the hallway.
But then—
Click.
The door swung open behind you, and you froze mid-step.
“Yn.”
His voice was soft, but it stopped you cold. You turned slowly, your heart leaping into your throat when you saw him standing there, looking like he hadn’t slept in days. His hair was a mess, his eyes puffy and red, but God, he was still Lando. Your Lando.
“I’m sorry,” you whispered again, your voice trembling.
Lando stared at you for a long moment, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallowed hard. Then, finally, he spoke.
“If you mean it…” He paused, eyes flickering down for a split second before meeting yours again. “Kiss me on the cheek.”
You blinked, surprised by the request, but then a small, relieved smile tugged at your lips. You stepped closer, your heart racing as you leaned in and pressed a gentle kiss to his cheek, lingering just a second longer than necessary.
When you pulled back, his eyes were still on you, softer now, but there was a glint of something else. Something more.
“And…” he added, clearing his throat, trying—and failing—to sound casual, “make dinner.”
You raised an eyebrow, amused. “Make dinner?”
Lando shrugged, a smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth. “I don’t have anything ready for tonight.”
You rolled your eyes, but your heart felt lighter than it had in days. You knew damn well he just wanted you to stay longer. And truth be told, you didn’t want to leave either.
“Alright,” you said, stepping inside. “But only if you help.”
Lando chuckled, closing the door behind you. “Deal.”
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lila-lou · 2 days ago
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✨His true fate - Part 37/?✨
Summary: Jensen hasn't been happy for years. But it seems almost impossible for him to escape. After another nasty argument between him and his wife, he decides to visit his ´former´ best friend for his birthday. Back in Austin, an encounter awaits him that will turn his life completely upside down.
Pairing: Jensen x Reader
Warnings: Language, age gap, ANGST
Word Count: 5654
A/N: English isn’t my first language, so please be lenient. 💙✨
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Lost in the labyrinth of your thoughts and anxieties, you didn’t even hear the sound of the key turning in the front door. The soft click of the lock opening barely registered as you stared blankly at the nearly untouched bowl of oats in front of you, your mind spinning with questions you weren’t ready to face.
It wasn’t until the sound of the door closing reached your ears that you snapped out of it. Your heart skipped a beat, and you looked up just as Jensen stepped into the kitchen. The sight of him took your breath away—but not in the way it usually did.
He looked utterly drained, his shoulders slumped and his face shadowed with exhaustion. His hair was disheveled, and his green eyes, usually so full of warmth, were dull and tired. It wasn’t just physical exhaustion; you could see the emotional weight pressing down on him. This was a man who hadn’t been sleeping, who had been carrying the weight of the last few weeks as heavily as you had, if not more.
He stopped in his tracks when he saw you, his gaze locking onto yours. For a moment, neither of you spoke, the tension in the room almost unbearable. His lips parted as if to say something, but then he hesitated, his eyes flicking over your face, as if trying to gauge your mood.
“Hey”, he said softly, his voice raspy, like he hadn’t used it in hours.
Your throat felt tight, and you struggled to find words, your emotions caught somewhere between anger, relief, and something else you couldn’t quite name. “You look…”, you started, but the words caught in your throat. You shook your head, finally settling on, “You look tired”.
Jensen let out a soft, humorless laugh, rubbing the back of his neck. “Yeah, well, I am tired”, he admitted, his voice low. “But I’m here”.
He took a cautious step closer, his eyes never leaving yours. “I’m here to fix this. To fix us”.
You looked down at your hands resting on the table, your fingers twisting together nervously. Tears gathered in your eyes, blurring your vision as you fought to keep them from spilling over. Despite everything, seeing Jensen here, looking so broken and vulnerable, made your chest ache in a way you couldn’t quite explain.
Jensen stepped closer, his boots softly scuffing against the floor as he stopped just in front of you. He didn’t speak right away, and you didn’t look up, the silence stretching between you. Finally, he let out a slow, shaky breath and crouched down beside you, his hand resting gently on your knee.
“Baby”, he whispered, his voice soft but edged with pain. “Talk to me”.
You shook your head, biting your lip as the first tear escaped and slid down your cheek. “I don’t even know what to say”, you admitted, your voice trembling. “I don’t know where to start”.
Jensen’s grip on your knee tightened slightly, a silent reassurance. “Start anywhere”, he said gently. “I’ll listen. Whatever it is, I’ll listen”.
You took a shaky breath, your fingers clenching in your lap as the weight of the past weeks pressed down on you. “I feel like everything’s falling apart”, you finally whispered, your voice barely audible. “I feel like… like I’m losing you, Jensen. And I don’t know how to stop it”.
His other hand came up to gently cup your cheek, tilting your face so you were forced to meet his eyes. They were glassy with emotion, and seeing him so raw only made the tears fall faster.
“You’re not losing me”, he said firmly, his voice breaking slightly. “You couldn’t lose me if you tried. I know I’ve been a mess, and I’ve let you down, but I swear to you, I’m here now. I’m not going anywhere until I fixed this".
The silence between you was heavy but not suffocating. Jensen stayed crouched beside you, his thumb brushing lightly over your knee in a rhythm that felt grounding. His eyes stayed locked on yours, full of quiet determination and a lingering sadness.
“I know that picture hurt you”, he began, his voice soft but steady. “And I need you to know… it’s not what it looked like. Not even close”.
You didn’t respond right away, your gaze flickering down to where his hand rested on your knee. He took a deep breath, his shoulders rising and falling as if he was bracing himself.
“It was… right before Christmas”, he explained, his voice tinged with guilt. “I was exhausted. The kids were finally asleep, and I just needed a minute to breathe. So, I went out to the hot tub. I was by myself, eyes closed, just… trying to decompress”.
Jensen paused, his jaw tightening as he looked away for a moment. “Then Danneel showed up. I didn’t know she was going to be there, and she—”. He hesitated, his voice growing rougher. “She got in. Naked”.
Your breath caught, but you didn’t pull away. His grip on your knee tightened slightly, like he was afraid you might.
“She said she wanted to talk, that she wanted to make amends”, Jensen continued, his green eyes locking back onto yours. “But before I could say anything, she moved closer. Got on my lap. I swear to you, baby, I pushed her off the second she did it. I told her it wasn’t okay, and I got out. I left. But she… she must’ve taken that picture before I even realized what was happening”.
You felt a lump form in your throat, the weight of his words settling heavily in your chest. The pain in his voice was undeniable, the regret palpable.
“She planned it”, he whispered, his voice breaking slightly. “I know she did. She wanted to ruin this, to mess with us, and I let it happen. I wasn’t careful enough. I should’ve known better, and now you’re paying for it”.
Your tears slipped silently down your cheeks as you processed his words. The anger and hurt still simmered inside you, but his honesty was breaking through the wall you’d built.
“Why didn’t you tell me?”, you asked finally, your voice trembling. “Why didn’t you call me right after it happened?”.
Jensen’s heart ached as he looked up at you, his face etched with guilt and pain. Seeing the tears streaking down your cheeks, hearing the tremble in your voice—it cut deeper than anything he’d ever experienced. He gently tightened his grip on your knee, his thumb still moving in soft circles, as though trying to reassure you without words.
“Because I didn’t want to hurt you”, he said finally, his voice breaking slightly. “I didn’t know how to tell you something so… so stupid without it sounding worse than it was. I thought if I ignored it, if I didn’t bring it up, it would just go away. But that was selfish. I should’ve told you the second it happened”.
Your eyes locked onto his, searching for any sign of deception, but all you saw was raw, unfiltered remorse. His green eyes shimmered, and his jaw tightened as though he was struggling to keep himself together.
“You’ve been through enough because of me”, he continued, his voice low and steady. “And I hate that. I hate that I’ve made you feel like this. I never wanted to be the reason you doubted yourself—or us”.
You wiped at your tears with the back of your hand, your throat tightening as his words sank in. “Jensen”, you said softly, your voice trembling, “I just… I don’t know how to move past this. I don’t know how to feel okay when I see things like that”.
Jensen sighed heavily, standing up from his crouched position. He brushed a hand hard over his face, his fingers dragging down in frustration before one hand dropped to his hip. He turned away slightly, running his other hand through his hair as he paced a few steps. His shoulders were tense, his movements restless. When he finally turned back to you, his expression was one of sheer desperation.
“I don’t know what else to say to make this right”, he admitted, his voice rough and weary. “I’ve told you everything. I’ve been honest. I’ve owned up to how I handled this wrong, but I… I don’t know how to fix it if you won’t let me”.
His words hung in the air, raw and filled with a pain that mirrored your own. He took a shaky breath, his hand dropping to his side as he stepped closer again. “I know I’ve made mistakes, and I know I’ve given you reasons to doubt me. But I swear to you, I’ve never lied about loving you. Not once”.
You looked down at your hands, unable to meet his eyes as tears continued to slip down your cheeks. His words hit somewhere deep inside you, but the ache in your chest felt immovable, the weight of everything too much to sort through in the moment.
Jensen’s voice softened, his frustration ebbing as he knelt back down in front of you, bringing himself to your level again. “I know I’ve hurt you”, he said quietly, his hands resting gently on your thighs, not to trap you but to ground you. “And I know this isn’t something I can just fix overnight. But please—don’t shut me out. I can’t lose you. Not like this”.
You let out a shaky breath, your tears slipping faster now. His words broke through the anger and confusion, exposing the rawness you’d been trying to hide. “I don’t want to shut you out, Jensen”, you admitted, your voice trembling. “But I feel like I don’t even know where we stand anymore”.
His face twisted in pain, his fingers tightening slightly against your legs. “We stand together”, he said firmly, his voice resolute despite the break in it. “We’ve been through so much already, and I know this… this thing with Danneel—it’s a mess. But it’s not us. It doesn’t define us”.
You finally looked up at him, your red, tear-streaked eyes meeting his. His green eyes were glassy with emotion, his brows furrowed deeply as if he could will you to understand his sincerity.
“I didn’t mean for any of this to happen”, he whispered, his voice cracking. “And I know saying that doesn’t make it better. But I love you, more than I’ve ever loved anyone. That’s the only thing I know for certain right now”.
His confession sent a fresh wave of emotion crashing over you, but instead of pulling away, you leaned forward slightly, your hands trembling as they hovered near his. “I want to believe you”, you whispered, your voice so soft it was almost lost in the quiet room. “I really do”.
Jensen didn’t hesitate. He brought your hands into his, his grip strong but tender as if he was holding on to his last lifeline.
Jensen's grip on your hands tightened slightly, his green eyes boring into yours with an intensity that made your breath hitch. “Then just do it, (Y/N)”, he mumbled, his voice breaking under the weight of his emotions. “Why the hell would I have bought this house for us if I didn’t want you by my side? Just you. No one else”.
His words came out in a rush, the desperation clear in his tone. He was baring everything, leaving no room for doubt in his feelings. “I didn’t buy this house for some temporary thing. I didn’t plan a life with you because I was unsure. I’m here because I want you—only you”.
Tears welled up in your eyes again, and you shook your head, overwhelmed by the raw honesty in his voice. “Jensen… I want to believe you. I do. But everything has just been so—so much”.
“I know”, he whispered, his voice softening but still carrying that edge of urgency. “I know it’s been a mess, and I know I’ve made it harder than it should be. But please, baby, don’t let that take this away from us. I’ll fix it. I’ll fix everything”.
His thumbs brushed over your hands, grounding you as he continued. “If I didn’t want you, if I didn’t see you as my future, I would’ve walked away a long time ago. But I didn’t, and I won’t. I’ve fought for this—for us—because you mean everything to me. Don’t give up on me. Don’t give up on us”.
You closed your eyes, his words wrapping around you like a fragile safety net. “Jensen, I’m scared”, you admitted, your voice trembling. “I’m scared of trusting this, of trusting you, and getting hurt”.
His jaw tightened, and he leaned forward, his forehead pressing lightly against yours. “I get it”, he whispered, his breath warm against your skin. “But if you’re willing to try, I swear I’ll do everything to prove to you that you’re safe with me. That this is real”.
Silence hung in the room, thick with unspoken emotions. Finally, you opened your eyes, meeting his once again. “Okay”, you whispered, your voice barely audible but carrying the weight of your decision. “I’ll try”.
A flicker of relief passed over Jensen’s face, his hands squeezing yours gently. “That’s all I need”, he said softly. “Just a chance”.
You nodded, the tears still slipping down your cheeks but the wall you’d built around your heart beginning to crack, just enough to let him in. For the first time in weeks, it felt like you could breathe again.
Jensen cupped your face gently, his thumb brushing away the lingering tears on your cheek as his other hand rested securely over yours. His touch was warm, grounding you in the moment as he leaned in closer. His green eyes softened, filled with a vulnerability you rarely saw but knew was always there, waiting for you.
“I love you”, he whispered, his voice low and steady, carrying the weight of a promise. “Just you. Only you”.
You felt a lump rise in your throat at his words, his sincerity hitting you with a force that left you breathless. He pulled you closer, his forehead resting against yours, his fingers lightly cradling the back of your neck.
“I swear to you”, Jensen continued, his voice barely above a whisper but resolute, “there’s no one else. There never could be. You’re it for me”.
The intensity of his gaze and the conviction in his words unraveled the last of the walls you’d put up. Tears welled in your eyes again, but this time, they weren’t from pain or fear. They were from the overwhelming warmth of knowing that despite everything, despite the chaos and missteps, he was still here—fighting for you.
Your forehead fell against Jensen’s chest, the soft fabric of his shirt brushing against your skin as his arms wrapped securely around you. You didn’t say a word—you couldn’t. The emotions coursing through you were too overwhelming, too tangled to put into coherent thoughts. Instead, you let yourself melt into him, his steady heartbeat beneath your ear grounding you in a way nothing else could.
Jensen held you tightly, his chin resting lightly on top of your head as he whispered, “It’s okay. You don’t have to say anything right now. Just… let me hold you”.
His hands moved gently, one rubbing small circles on your back while the other stayed firm against your waist, anchoring you to him. The steady rhythm of his breath against your hair calmed the storm inside you, bit by bit.
Minutes passed in silence, the only sounds in the room the faint rustling of his shirt as you clung to him and the occasional hitch in your breath as you fought to steady yourself. He didn’t rush you, didn’t press for more. He simply stayed there, his presence warm and constant, giving you the space you needed.
Finally, you took a deep, shaky breath, your hands gripping the fabric of his shirt as if letting go wasn’t an option. “I don’t want to lose this”, you whispered, your voice muffled against his chest. “I don’t want to lose us”.
Jensen tightened his hold, his lips brushing the top of your head. “You won’t”, he murmured, his voice filled with quiet determination. “I promise you, you won’t. We’re going to figure this out. Together”.
You nodded against him, still unable to say more, but in that moment, his embrace and his words felt like enough to keep the pieces of your heart from breaking further.
The two of you remained quiet for what felt like an eternity, the stillness filled with the weight of everything left unsaid. You stayed tucked against Jensen’s chest, his arms holding you securely, but your mind raced with doubts and questions that refused to quiet down. Finally, unable to keep it in any longer, you broke the silence with a quiet, trembling voice.
“Did you cheat on Danneel?”, you asked, the words barely audible but heavy with the fear and uncertainty that had been gnawing at you. “When your marriage wasn’t already falling apart?”.
Jensen stiffened slightly, his arms around you loosening just enough to create space for him to pull back and look at you. His face was conflicted, his green eyes clouded with a mix of guilt and hesitation. He let out a deep sigh, running a hand down his face as if trying to gather his thoughts.
“It’s not… it’s not that simple”, he said finally, his voice low and rough. “Our marriage… it wasn’t easy. From the start, it wasn’t what it should’ve been”.
You looked up at him, your eyes red and puffy but searching his face for the truth. “What do you mean?”, you pressed, needing him to explain.
Jensen hesitated, his jaw clenching as he grappled with the words. “I didn’t want to marry her”, he admitted, his voice almost a whisper. “I loved her, but not the way you’re supposed to love someone you want to spend your life with. It was… I don’t know. I was young, and everyone—my dad, my friends—they all thought it was the right thing to do. They pressured me, and I let them. I was drunk as hell on our wedding day because it was the only way I could get through it”.
The confession hit you like a blow, but Jensen wasn’t done. He ran a hand through his hair, his frustration with himself evident.
Jensen’s voice grew heavier as he continued, his shoulders sagging under the weight of the memories he was dragging into the light. “It wasn’t long after we got married that things started to go downhill. We were barely a few months in when the cracks started showing. She cheated first”, he admitted, his words quiet but bitter. “I found out about it, and instead of confronting her or trying to work through it, I…”. He paused, exhaling sharply as if the next words physically pained him. “I followed her lead”.
Your breath hitched, your chest tightening as his confession settled over you like a storm cloud. He looked at you, his green eyes pleading, but the shame in them was unmistakable.
“It was easier than dealing with what was really wrong between us”, he continued, his voice low and raw. “We both knew we weren’t happy, but we didn’t want to admit it. So we found distractions—little flings, short-term things that made us feel something. It wasn’t constant, but it was enough to make everything worse”.
“Little flings?”, you repeated, your voice trembling as the weight of his words sank in. “You mean… there were more than one?”.
Jensen nodded slowly, his jaw tightening. “Yeah”, he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. “And there were times it wasn’t so little. There was one… it went on for a while. We didn’t love each other, but it felt like an escape. And Danneel—she had her own things too. It was toxic, both of us running away from what was broken instead of facing it”.
You pulled away slightly, needing space to process what he was saying. Your hands trembled as you held onto the edge of the table, your heart aching with a mix of sadness, anger, and confusion.
“So you were both just… cheating the whole time?”, you asked, your voice breaking.
“Not the whole time”, Jensen said quickly, his voice desperate. “There were moments when we tried to make it work, when we really tried to be what we thought we were supposed to be. But it never lasted. We were just… wrong for each other, right from the start”.
You shook your head, tears slipping down your cheeks as you struggled to make sense of it all.
You stood abruptly from the chair, Jensen’s hands falling away from your knees as you stepped back. The space between you felt impossibly wide despite the small room. Your mind raced, and the ache in your chest deepened as you swiped at your tears with the back of your hand.
“I don’t…”, you began, but the words caught in your throat. You looked away, your gaze darting to the floor, the walls—anywhere but him. “I don’t even know what to say to that”.
Jensen remained crouched, his hands hanging limply between his knees. He looked up at you with a mixture of guilt and helplessness, his jaw clenching as he struggled to find the right words.
“You don’t have to say anything”, he said softly, his voice barely audible. “I just… I needed to be honest with you”.
You let out a shaky breath, the weight of his confession bearing down on you like a crushing tide. “Why tell me now?”, you asked, your voice trembling. “Why not… before? Why wait until everything is already falling apart?”.
He ran a hand through his hair, his shoulders sagging under the strain of his emotions. “Because you never asked”, he admitted, his voice raw. “And I was scared. Scared of what you’d think of me. Scared of losing you. I thought I could leave it all in the past, but then… that picture. Danneel. It all came back up”.
You nodded slowly, your mind a tangled mess of emotions. You wanted to be angry, to scream at him for the choices he’d made and the pain he’d caused. But you also saw the vulnerability in his eyes, the weight of his regret. It softened something in you, though it didn’t erase the hurt.
“I need some air”, you said finally, your voice strained. Without waiting for a response, you turned and walked toward the door, your steps hurried as if you could outrun the turmoil swirling inside you.
Jensen didn’t stop you, though you felt his eyes on your back as you left the room. As the door clicked shut behind you, you exhaled deeply, leaning against the wall in the hallway. The silence was deafening, and for a moment, you weren’t sure if you were about to scream or collapse into tears again.
All you knew was that you needed space—space to think, to breathe, and to figure out where to go from here.
You had been gone for hours, wandering aimlessly through the city, trying to make sense of everything Jensen had told you. The cold air nipped at your skin, but you barely noticed it, your thoughts too tangled to focus on anything else. By the time you finally returned home, the sun was beginning to set, casting the house in a soft golden glow.
The sound of the door opening drew Jensen’s attention from where he sat in the living room, his elbows resting on his knees, his hands clasped together tightly. He had showered since you left, his hair damp and slightly disheveled, his face drawn and tired. He stood as you stepped inside, his gaze searching yours for any sign of how you were feeling.
“Hey”, he said softly, his voice tentative as though he was afraid to push too hard.
You gave him a small nod, setting your bag down by the door but not moving closer. The air between you was thick with tension, the weight of everything that had been said and left unsaid pressing down on both of you.
Jensen gestured toward the couch, his expression earnest. “Will you sit with me?”, he asked, his voice gentle but filled with longing.
You hesitated for a moment before nodding, walking slowly into the living room and lowering yourself onto the couch. Jensen sat beside you, careful to keep a bit of space between you as though afraid to crowd you.
Neither of you spoke for a long time, the silence stretching out until it felt almost unbearable.
The silence was heavy, pressing down on both of you like a weight neither could lift. Jensen's hands fidgeted in his lap, his fingers occasionally clenching as though fighting the urge to reach for you. When he finally spoke, his voice was quiet, almost hesitant.
“Do you believe me?”, he asked, his eyes fixed on the floor before shifting to meet yours. “About the picture. That it was staged, that it wasn’t what it looked like”.
You stayed quiet for a moment, your fingers intertwining in your lap as you tried to organize your thoughts. His words from earlier echoed in your mind, along with the raw emotion in his voice when he explained what had happened. You wanted to believe him—you really did—but the hurt and doubt still lingered like a shadow you couldn’t shake.
“I don’t know”, you said finally, your voice trembling. “I want to believe you, Jensen. But… it’s hard. Everything about this has been hard”.
Jensen’s shoulders slumped slightly, the pain in your words cutting through him like a knife. “I get it”, he murmured, his voice thick. “I know I’ve given you reasons to doubt me. But I swear to you, what I told you—it’s the truth. Danneel set that up to hurt us. To hurt you. I didn’t let her get to me, and I’m not going to let her come between us now”.
You looked at him then, really looked at him, and saw the exhaustion etched into his face. He looked older somehow, more worn down, like the weight of everything was finally catching up to him. His green eyes were earnest, pleading, and it was impossible to miss the sheer desperation in his expression.
You bit your lip, your eyes stinging with tears that you fought to hold back. “I… t’s not just the picture, Jensen”, you said, your voice breaking slightly. “It’s everything. The distance, the lack of communication, feeling like I’m the only one holding on while you’re out there…”.
Jensen reached for your hand, his grip firm but gentle as he looked into your eyes. “You’re not the only one holding on”, he said, his voice steady despite the emotion in it. “I’m holding on too. I just didn’t show it the way I should have. But I’m here now, and I’m not letting go”.
His words settled in the air between you, the silence returning but feeling slightly less suffocating. You didn’t pull your hand away, but you didn’t squeeze back either. The tension was still there, but so was the faint glimmer of something that might, just might, be hope.
Jensen broke the silence once more, his voice low and uncertain, almost like he was confessing something he wasn’t proud of. “I know I’m not good at reaching out when I’m on set”, he mumbled, his gaze dropping to your hands. “I get into this… bubble. I’m so focused on the work—making sure I do a good job, keeping everything together—it’s like nothing else exists for a while”.
He ran a hand through his hair, sighing heavily as his shoulders slumped. “It’s how I’ve always been. With Danneel, it didn’t matter how often I came home or called or texted. She didn’t care. It was easier to just stay in my own world, you know? But with you…”.
Jensen trailed off, his voice catching for a moment before he looked back up at you, his green eyes filled with a quiet determination. “If you need me to do more, I will. I’ll call, I’ll text, I’ll—hell, I’ll FaceTime you during every break if that’s what it takes. I don’t want you to feel like you’re not a priority, because you are. You’re the priority”.
His words hung in the air, his vulnerability raw and unguarded. It was clear that admitting this wasn’t easy for him, and yet he was putting it all out there for you.
“I know I’ve let you down”, Jensen continued, his voice steady but filled with emotion. “But I’m telling you now—I’ll do better. You just have to tell me what you need, and I’ll do it. Whatever it takes to make you feel like you’re not in this alone”.
You stared at him, the weight of his words settling over you like a warm blanket. Part of you wanted to believe him, to lean into the comfort of his promises. But the lingering hurt and uncertainty kept you grounded, unable to fully let go of your doubts.
“I don’t want to have to tell you to care, Jensen”, you said softly, your voice trembling. “I just… I want to feel like you do, without me having to ask for it”.
His face fell slightly at your words, the guilt in his expression deepening. “I do care”, he said quietly, his voice breaking. “I’ve just been so used to… not having to show it. I didn’t realize how much it mattered to you, how much it mattered to me, until now”.
You didn’t pull away this time when his thumb brushed over your knuckles. His grip tightened slightly, as though trying to anchor you both in the moment.
“I’m not perfect”, Jensen admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. “But I love you, and I’m going to prove that I’m worth holding on to”.
Jensen’s voice softened, barely more than a whisper, as he shifted closer to you. His hand never left yours, his thumb still brushing lightly over your knuckles as he spoke.
“You’re the reason I finally got free from Danneel”, he admitted, his words raw and unfiltered. “I wouldn’t have done it if it weren’t for you. I would’ve just kept going, pretending like it didn’t matter, like I wasn’t suffocating”.
He paused, swallowing hard as he searched your face for any flicker of understanding. “But then you came into my life, and suddenly… everything was different. You made me want more, made me see that I could have more. That I deserved more”.
Jensen let out a shaky breath, his green eyes shimmering with emotion as he continued. “I wouldn’t have moved back to Austin, wouldn’t have bought the house, wouldn’t have taken that leap if you weren’t my future. I’ve built all of this with you in mind, and I can’t imagine it without you”.
His hand moved to cup your cheek, his touch gentle but firm as he tilted your face toward his. “You’re it for me”, he said, his voice breaking slightly. “I’ve never been more sure of anything in my life. And I’ll spend every day proving it to you if that’s what it takes”.
Tears welled in your eyes again, the sincerity in his words wrapping around your heart and pulling you closer to the edge of forgiveness. Jensen leaned forward, his forehead resting against yours, his breath warm against your skin as he whispered, “Please don’t give up on us. I’ll do whatever it takes, but I need you with me”.
The quiet plea in his voice broke down the last of your defenses, leaving you trembling with the weight of his love and your own fears. You closed your eyes, leaning into his touch, letting the moment wrap around you like a fragile truce.
But even as his words soothed the ache in your chest, the lingering uncertainty about the future—and the secret you carried—remained.
You stared down at your trembling hands, your throat tightening as the weight of what you were about to say consumed you. The words felt heavy, almost too much to bear, but you knew they had to be spoken.
“I… I think… I think I’m pregnant”, you whispered, your voice barely audible, like saying it louder would make it more real.
———————————
A/N: Please let me know what you think.🥰
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kitty6choi · 3 days ago
Text
𝑺𝒊𝒍𝒗𝒆𝒓 𝑳𝒊𝒈𝒕𝒉 (𝒑𝒓𝒆𝒗𝒊𝒆𝒘)
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𝑆𝑦𝑛𝑜𝑝𝑠𝑖𝑠: In an attempt to save your father's company you decide to marry one of his partners' sons and although at first you expected everything to be terribly bad you soon realized that maybe it wasn't like that.
𝑃𝑎𝑟𝑖𝑛𝑔: Park Seonghwa x fem! reader
𝐺𝑒𝑛𝑟𝑒: smut MDNI + little angust + mafia au + arranged marriage
A/N: If nothing gets in my way I'll have this ready by Friday and I really hope to finish this soon.
⋆。˚୨𝖬𝖺𝗌𝗍𝖾𝗋𝗅𝗂𝗌𝗍୧˚。⋆
“Are you ready?” Seonghwa’s voice brought you back to reality and you looked at him in the mirror, he was standing in the doorway with his arms crossed, he looked impeccable, as always, with his hair combed, his suit clean and his cologne floating in the air to where you were
“I’m almost done” you answered looking at the necklace in your hands
“Let me help you” before you could refuse Seonghwa’s steps shortened the distance between you and he asked you for the necklace, a little unsure you gave it to him and moved your hair to the side while you stared at the reflection of both of you in the mirror.
You tensed up when you felt the warmth of his fingers touch your skin a little while you noticed how his gaze was fixed on some point on your neck, you couldn’t remember how to breathe when he slowly lowered his hand running a path down your bare back. You closed your eyes trying to ignore the small flame inside you that he caused and when you dared to open your eyes it was only to see his eyes fixed on you through the glass.
“We should go” you said almost in a whisper
“Yes” was all he answered before leaving your side.
.
.
.
“So Park, are you going to confess tonight?” someone at the table asked “when are you going to stop being your father’s shadow?” You looked at Seonghwa waiting for his answer, but he was unconcerned and cold
“I don’t know what you’re talking about” the atmosphere at the table suddenly became tense and some glances were directed in his direction
“Don’t listen to him” someone said “he’s just drunk”
“I think we should go” Seonghwa stood up, but everyone started to protest and insist that he stay, but he just looked at you waiting for an answer from you. You knew you should have left, but a part of you still had hope that everything would get better and you would make a deal
“Let’s stay a little longer” you whispered “please” Seonghwa took a breath and without taking his eyes off you he nodded and sat back down in his place, but with his shoulders straight and his gaze sharp.
“Ha… you never cease to amaze me” said the same man who at the beginning “it seems you are a dog with anyone” Seonghwa didn’t say anything and took the glass of wine from the table taking a sip ignoring the man “now it’s my turn” the man took out a couple of money and threw it in his face “pick this up, go on” the man whistled and snapped his fingers, everyone at the table was now watching the scene, but no one did anything to stop him “come on Park… do it”
Seonghwa remained calm and serene, but you took him by the arm so he would look at you, when your eyes met the only thing you could see was a darkness so deep in them that you could barely see your reflection. Fear began to take over your senses and the only thing you could think was that it was all your fault
“Let’s go” you begged.
The man started laughing loudly and you noticed how Seonghwa's body tensed, he turned to give you one last look before standing up.
“You two are made for each other” the man took a breath and stood in front of you blocking your way “Daddy's obedient bitch married the lapdog”
“I won't let you talk about my wife like that” Seonghwa said before breaking the glass in his hand and the liquid spilled over his hand staining his white shirt.
It all happened too fast…
.
.
.
“I'm sorry” you said for the thousandth time that night “it's my fault” you repeated passing the cloth over his cheek. Seonghwa simply remained silent letting you heal his wounds, but you didn't know that there was a deeper one, one that was inside his chest and that he didn't know if he could heal.
You stopped for a moment when he let out a moan and you looked at him worried.
“I’m sorry…”
“Don’t say it again” he took your hand, finally speaking after a long time. You looked at each other for a moment and you thought you saw something in his eyes, something he wasn’t saying but that was screaming for you to listen to him.
He squeezed your hand a little and brought his lips to your arm, his breath gave you chills and you stayed still without saying anything until his lips left a soft kiss on your skin, your breath leaving your lungs when he slowly got up and his breath began to trace a path of small kisses all over your forearm, slowly going up to your shoulder. His fingers traced small circles on your wrist that he hadn’t let go yet and you closed your eyes for fear of meeting his gaze.
“Seonghwa…”
“I can’t take it anymore…” he confessed, letting his words fall on your neck and spill over your entire body “I can’t keep pretending… I need you so much…”
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callmemonster68 · 8 hours ago
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NIKI - Better Than In A Dream ( smut )
Y/N: I want you, Niki. I need you now... inside me...
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Pairing: Niki X FemReader (Masterlist)
Genre: Smut
Warning: Contains explicit content, unprotected sex, suggestive, penetration, explicit language, climax, sex, swearing, hickeys, messy make-out sessions, dirty talk, compliments, rough sex, touching bruises
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The wooden cabin creaked with the cold night wind, but under the shared blanket, the heat between Y/N and Niki was suffocating. They were childhood friends, accomplices since forever, but the tension that had been growing between them in recent years was impossible to ignore. Still, neither of them dared to cross the line... until that night.
Y/N was deeply asleep next to Niki, her body relaxed, but her mind wandered through a fiery dream. A dream where his hands roamed her skin, where his lips lost themselves on hers, where he took her without hesitation.
In the midst of the silence of the room, a moan escaped her lips, soft but laden with desire. "Niki..." Her voice sounded breathless, laden with lust.
Niki's eyes opened immediately. The sound of his name, said that way, made something inside him crumble. He swallowed hard, his chest rising and falling heavily. Y/N moved, her lips slightly parted as if expecting to be kissed, cheeks flushed and body sweaty.
The desire was greater than the control. With his breath hitching, he slid his hand under the blanket until he found the warm skin of her thigh. His touch was hesitant, but at the same time, hungry. He shouldn't, but how could he resist when she called to him even in dreams?
Y/N squirmed, a new moan escaping as his fingers moved a little higher until they found her wet panties. It was then that she woke up. Her wide eyes met Niki's, and before she could ask anything, he kissed her.
The shock lasted a second, but soon desire took over. His lips were urgent, and she gave in, grabbing him by the hair, pulling him even closer. Niki growled against her mouth, pressing his body against hers.
Niki: You dreamed about me, didn't you? (he murmured against her lips, his voice hoarse)
Y/N felt their face flush, but did not look away.
Y/N: What if I dreamed it? (challenged, fingers digging into his back)
He smiled sideways, his eyes burning with pure mischief.
Niki: So I think it's fair to show you that reality can be even better.
Niki slid her lips down Y/N's neck, nibbling her skin with adoration, while her hands eagerly explored her body.
Niki: You look so beautiful like this, desperate for me... (whispered, his fingers sliding under the thin barrier of the fabric)
Y/N moaned, her nails digging into his arms as he penetrated two fingers into her needy pussy, moving them at a frantic pace.
Y/N: Niki... don't stop... (pleaded, feeling her body pulse with the electricity of the moment)
He held her face, his dark eyes reflecting pure need.
Niki: Say that you want me as much as I want you.
Y/N: I want you, Niki... I've always wanted... (Y/N gasped, their body in ecstasy)
Niki's eyes sparkled with pure lust upon hearing those words escape her lips. With a predatory smile, he slowly withdrew his fingers from inside her, making sure to drag each centimeter, just to see her writhe in anticipation. Y/N gasped, feeling the emptiness he left behind, and before she could protest, Niki brought his wet fingers to her lips.
Niki: Suck it, cutie. Prove how much you desire me. (his voice was a whisper laden with mischief)
Y/N's gaze met his, eyes drenched with desire. Without hesitation, she opened her mouth, enveloping his fingers with her lips, her tongue sliding slowly, savoring the taste of his skin. Niki let out a deep moan, his muscles tensing as he watched her so submissive and surrendered.
Niki: That's it... good girl. (he murmured, his gaze fixed on her mouth as he worked on his fingers)
He pulled his fingers out, her lips still slightly parted, her eyes pleading for more. The desire burned between them, and Niki could wait no longer. He positioned himself over her, the heat of his body pressing against hers in a delicious way.
Niki: Are you ready for me? (his voice sounded hoarse, laden with promises)
Y/N could no longer form words, only nodded frantically, her legs parting to welcome him. Niki smiled satisfied and positioned himself at her entrance, his rigid member brushing against her warm and wet skin. He slid the tip slowly, teasing her, eliciting a frustrated moan from her lips.
Y/N: Niki... please... (she moaned, trying to push her hips against him)
He held her waist firmly, immobilizing her.
Niki: So impatient... (he chuckled softly) Tell me how much you want me.
Y/N: I want you, Niki. I need you now... inside me...
It was all he needed to hear. With a strong and precise movement, he penetrated her all at once, filling her completely. A long and drawn-out moan escaped from both, as their bodies finally united without barriers.
Niki: Shit... you are so tight... (he moaned against her ear, burying his face in her warm neck)
Y/N clung to him, her nails digging into his broad back as she felt him move inside her. Each thrust was intense, deep, bringing her to the edge quickly.
Y/N: Niki… I... I can't take it anymore...
Niki held his face, capturing his lips in a possessive kiss.
Niki: So come for me, kitty. I want to feel you falling apart around me.
With a few more precise thrusts, Y/N exploded in ecstasy, her body trembling as pleasure consumed her. Niki didn't take long to follow her, her name escaping his lips in a hoarse moan as he spilled inside her. The room was now filled only with the sound of their ragged breaths and racing hearts.
He pulled her to him, staying inside her, not wanting to separate yet.
Niki: I said reality would be even better... (he smiled against her sweaty skin, lightly nibbling her shoulder)
Y/N smiled between her parted lips, still trying to catch her breath. She knew that night was just the beginning...
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✿ If you don't reblog and comment, you can be sure I'll be showing up in your dreams tonight... and I won’t be as sweet as in the story ✿
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2am-writing · 2 days ago
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Need a Hand? Steve Harrington
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Pairing: Steve Harrington x fem!reader; Y/n's perspective
Summary: You’re new to Hawkin’s currently moving into the new town. You’re on your way to your new apartment when your car runs out of gas. Little did you know how this shitty situation could turn around. 
WC: 1.3k
Author’s Note: Hi!! My name is Jes and this is my first ever “fanfic” “imagine” type writing ever. I really hope you enjoy it. I have always wanted to start doing this but I never had the motivation, I usually am just a quiet lurking reader. I would love to build/ be a part of a community and have moots, and I would love to keep writing. Feel free to message me ideas or even if you just want to talk!! I hope you like this. (: This is also my first post in 5 years so ahhhhhh
Of course the day I choose to move into my apartment in the small town Hawkins, Indianan just happens to be a dark cloudy rainy day. The rain was coming down relentlessly hammering against my windows, turning the town that absorbed it dull and bleak. 
This wouldn’t have caused me too much of an issue due to the insignificant amount of boxes I had in the back seat.. That is if my car didn’t start sputtering. 
‘Just great’ I thought to myself, I was about 10 minutes from my apartment and now I’m pulled over on the side of the road stranded. I glanced at my gas meter- My car has been causing me trouble recently but I thought it would make it through this move, then I was going to get it fixed. I guess not because 5 minutes ago it read that I had half a tank of gas, and now it’s on empty.
I stay sitting in my car for a moment watching my surrounding environment as I contemplate what I should do next. 
‘I could walk and get gas, I definitely can’t push my car, I could call a tow truck- No I can’t afford that… I could just stay here,’ I go over in my head.. None of these options I wanna do. I just wanted to get to my apartment, rent a movie from the Family Video store across the street, order food, and fall asleep to a crappy movie. My big plans have now been delayed. 
A few minutes went by, and I decided to start my treacherous journey to find a gas station in this dead ended town. I grabbed my purse and keys then slammed the door shut as I embarked on my adventure.
I was about 3 minutes into my walk down this straight dead road, my hair and clothes were already drenching wet as they were sticking to my skin, my face flushed from the cold. That’s when I heard the sound of an engine approaching nearby.
A maroon BMW slowed down next to me as the passenger side window rolled down revealing a handsome man, dark expressive brown eyes, gorgeous thick messy chestnut hair, he looked to be around my age, I was captivated by him, he was without a doubt beautiful.
“Hey,” He called out to me putting his car in park, “I’m assuming you’re not walking in the rain by choice.. Do you need a hand?” Typically I would call stranger danger and tell him to piss off, but something about his vibes felt like I could trust him- Though my judgment could also be clouded due to the fact that I no longer want to be walking in this rain, but oh well..
We make eye contact as I reply, “I actually could, my car ran out of gas and I have no clue where I’m going,” I chuckle out. 
“Hop in,” The mystery man replied back to me as he opened the passenger door from the inside. I don’t hesitate to come in and sit down, 
“Thank you so much, I’m so sorry about your seats I’m drenched-” He cuts me off before I can ramble on further,
“It’s okay, I knew what my seats were getting into when I invited you in.” He smiled at me laughing a little, “I’m Steve, Harrington by the way,” He said, holding out his hand. 
“I’m y/n, y/l/n,” I smile, shaking his hand back, “It’s nice to meet you Steve,”
“I’m assuming you’re new to town? I don’t think I’ve seen you around before”
“Oh yeah,” I reply, “Today’s my move in date.. And well, as you can see I’m not off to the smoothest start” I laughed a little, 
“No kidding” Steve chuckled to him a bit, “Well I have some gas in the trunk, I’ll take us back to your car and you’ll be on your way I guess.” I nodded in agreement, smiling at him once again before breaking eye contact.
Little did I know Steve was absolutely captivated by me, how I was still smiling and seeming so positive after everything that was going on. He wanted to get my car running again, but he wanted to keep talking to me, he wanted to get to know me, why I moved here, why I didn’t get my car fixed before the move, and why was I so willing to get in the car with him, he wanted to know every detail about me. He didn’t know why he felt this way, but something about me intrigued him, this felt different than any other interaction he’s had and he wanted to keep exploring it.
He drove us back to my car and parked behind mine, “Stay right here I’ll go fill it up real quick” I didn’t have time to protest before he left the car leaving me alone in the passenger seat, the rain singing to me as it bounced on the hood of his car. 
A couple minutes later a soaking wet Steve came back in the car, “Man it was pouring hard out there. Your car’s all full though” He commented.
My heart feels like it’s melting and all I can do is let out a small chuckle and smile at him- Why was he being so nice to me? Why wouldn’t he just make me fill up my own car? He really just let me hop a ride, gave me his gas, and stood out in the pouring rain to fill my car. I guess it doesn’t seem like an extreme gesture from an outside perspective, but from my perspective those gestures meant everything. I came from a place of nothing, grew up with nothing, absent parents, fake friends. It’s sad to say but this small moment with Steve I would cherish forever. 
“Thank you so much Steve, I seriously owe you one” 
Steve’s heart felt like it skipped a beat at those words, “It’s no problem, really. Can’t let a gal as pretty as you walk to destination of nowhere in the rain.” 
My face heats up at his comment, and I look down shyly smiling. He quickly follows up, “I’ll take you up on you owing me one though,” I make eye contact with him once again, curious with what he could possibly want from me,
“Yeah, what do you need, anything” I reply my face still burning up from this interaction, 
“Uh- Coffee would be great- But I don’t wanna bombard you with moving in you know- so whenever you have time-” I could tell he was nervous, but that made me feel good. I cut him off before he could continue blabbing, “Coffee would be great. This weekend? Saturday morning?” I stutter, he doesn’t hesitate to reply,
“Yeah- uh- that’s perfect,” He says, falling over his words. I grabbed a piece of paper from my bag before scribbling down my apartment address and phone number before handing it to Steve, “Here” I said not holding back my smile, 
“Thanks y/n, I will see you this weekend then” Steve replied holding the piece of paper tight in his hand but careful not to get it wet, 
“Thank you again Steve, for the ride and the gas, and again I’m sorry about your seats” I laughed a little. Steve took in my smile and laughter, he loved the way I said his name. It sounded natural when it came out of my mouth. To him it was such an innocent pure moment, he thought I was beautiful and kind, he wanted to spend more time with me but he knew I had to get started on moving in, and well, he didn’t want to push any boundaries with us just meeting and all,
“Anytime really, I’m just glad I could help” He doesn’t want to break eye contact, but it has to end eventually. I got out of the car, walking quickly back to mine before closing my door. Steve waited until I successfully started my car and drove off before he too left where we were parked. 
The whole way to the apartment he wouldn’t leave my mind, his kind gestures, his compliment to me, him wanting to see me again. Maybe this move wouldn’t be so bad after all. 
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cherryxbooo · 1 day ago
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Left in the past and forgotten
Summary: Seeing your ex-lover after four years wasn’t something you ever expected. The memories of your time together, flooded back, making the moment even harder to face.
Note: Hey guys! I've finally decided to update my K-pop fics. I'm planning on adding more members soon, so keep an eye out for that! Also if you want me to add other groups/actors, let me know!
Kim Taehyung x Reader
Genre: angst/fluff
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Snowflakes drifted lazily outside the café window, melting the moment they kissed the glass.
The world outside was a blurred canvas of white and gray, the winter storm painting Seoul in a soft, muted haze.
Inside, the café was warm, filled with the rich aroma of coffee and freshly baked pastries, the gentle hum of conversations blending seamlessly with the faint jazz music playing overhead.
I curled my fingers tighter around the steaming mug in front of me, letting the heat seep into my skin.
Even with the warmth surrounding me, a coldness had settled deep in my bones, one that no amount of hot coffee could chase away.
I shouldn’t have come back.
The thought had been circling my mind since the moment my plane touched down, but now, sitting here in the heart of the city I once called home, it weighed heavier than ever.
Seoul was no longer just a place, it was a graveyard of memories I had buried, ghosts I had spent years trying to outrun.
And yet, they clawed their way back the second I stepped onto its streets.
Especially the one tied to him.
Kim Taehyung.
A name that had once been synonymous with love, with warmth, with the kind of happiness that felt boundless.
A name I had forced myself to forget.
But forgetting had never been my strong suit.
The bell above the café door chimed, signaling a new arrival, but I barely registered it.
My gaze remained fixed on the snowfall outside, my mind lost in the past, until I heard it.
A voice.
Deep, familiar, haunting.
“Y/n?”
My fingers stiffened around my mug.
My breath caught in my throat.
That voice.
Slowly, I turned my head, already knowing, feeling, who I would see.
And there he was.
Kim Taehyung stood a few feet away, frozen in place, his presence as effortless yet overwhelming as ever.
He wore a long beige coat over a black turtleneck, snowflakes clinging to the fabric like they were reluctant to melt.
His dark brown hair was slightly tousled from the wind, and his eyes, those deep, expressive eyes that had once held entire universes, were locked onto mine.
Shock? Regret? Relief?
I couldn’t tell.
For a moment, neither of us spoke.
We just stood there, caught in the eerie stillness of an encounter that felt both impossible and inevitable.
His lips parted slightly, as if he wanted to say something, but no words came.
And I understood why.
Because what do you say when the person you once loved, the person who disappeared without a word, reappears like a ghost from your past?
What do you say when the wound you thought had scarred over rips open again with just a glance?
Finally, I swallowed against the dryness in my throat, forcing myself to breathe.
“Taehyung.”
It was barely above a whisper, but it was enough to make something flicker across his face.
Something unreadable, something raw.
He took a hesitant step closer, his eyes searching mine like they were looking for answers, answers I wasn’t sure I could give.
“Is it really you?” he murmured, almost like he didn’t believe it.
I let out a shaky exhale, offering a small, hollow smile.
“I could ask you the same thing.”
His lips pressed together, his hands slipping into the pockets of his coat.
It was a nervous habit of his, one I hadn’t seen in years, but still recognized immediately.
I wanted to look away. I wanted to run.
But I couldn’t.
Not when the past was standing right in front of me.
Not when Taehyung was looking at me like I was still the person he used to know.
But I wasn’t.
I wasn’t sure if I ever could be again.
Loving Taehyung was like holding onto a fleeting dream, warm, intoxicating, beautiful, but never quite real enough to keep.
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Six years ago...
I was standing in line at a small café, completely overwhelmed by the drink menu, and someone, chuckling behind me as I changed my order for the third time.
"You know, if you keep doing that, we’ll never get our coffee," the person teased, voice dripping with amusement.
Flustered, I turned around to see a man in a black hoodie and a face mask, only his sharp, smiling eyes visible.
"Maybe I just like weighing my options," I shot back, trying to sound confident.
His grin widened. "Or maybe you just don’t know what you want."
I rolled my eyes but couldn’t stop myself from laughing.
He was easy to talk to, effortlessly charming, and when he finally pulled down his mask, revealing who he was, my breath caught in my throat.
"You're—"
"Taehyung," he interrupted before I could say his full name, tilting his head playfully.
And you are?"
That was how it started.
A conversation over coffee turned into exchanged numbers. Then came the late-night texts, the phone calls that lasted until dawn, the stolen moments in between his busy schedule.
Before I knew it, he had become my favorite part of every day.
Two years after we had first met flew by and being with Taehyung was like stepping into a world that wasn’t meant for me, but somehow, he made me feel like I belonged.
"Come here," he would say after a long day, opening his arms as I curled into his chest.
His fingers would gently trace patterns on my back, his voice a soft whisper against my hair.
"I missed you today."
I missed him too. Always.
But I never told him how much, because I was afraid he would hear the sadness in my voice.
Our love lived in moments stolen from time, laughter tangled between bed sheets, whispered promises in darkened hallways, the way he would pull me into his arms just before he left and say,
"Wait for me."
And I did. I waited.
I waited when his texts became less frequent, when our dates were pushed back, when his voice on the other end of the phone started to sound more exhausted than excited.
I waited, even when it felt like I was slowly fading into the background of his life.
Then it slowly started to crack.
I felt like I was holding him back.
Holding him back from doing the things he liked.
But I was a human after all I craved my boyfriend's attention too. I wasn't going to tell him that though.
"Hey, can I see you tonight?"
I stared at his message, my fingers hovering over my phone.
I wanted to say yes. God, I always wanted to say yes.
But something inside me hesitated.
It had been three weeks since I last saw him, and even then, our time together had been cut short.
A meeting ran late. A rehearsal went overtime.
I knew that his life as an idol wasn't easy and that his life was always packed and busy.
I knew that before I started dating him but still...
He had held me for five minutes, kissed my forehead, and whispered, "Next time, I’ll make it up to you."
But next time never came.
So instead of answering immediately, I let my phone sit beside me as I stared at the half-eaten dinner on my table.
It was the third time this week I had eaten alone.
It wasn’t just the missed dates. It was the way he had started to feel like a guest in my life instead of a part of it.
When I finally picked up my phone, I typed out my response.
"I don’t know, Tae. It’s late."
He called me immediately.
"Are you okay?" His voice was laced with concern.
"I’m fine." The words felt like a lie.
"I can come over," he offered quickly. "Even if it’s just for a little while."
I squeezed my eyes shut. That was the problem. It was always just for a little while.
"It’s okay," I whispered. "Get some rest."
There was a pause. Then, quietly, "Are you upset with me?"
I swallowed past the lump in my throat. "No, I just... I just miss you."
His sigh was soft, almost guilty. "I miss you too, love. Things will calm down soon, I promise."
I nodded, even though he couldn’t see me. "Yeah. Soon."
But I was starting to wonder if soon would ever come.
The night I decided to end things, Taehyung showed up at my apartment unannounced.
"Surprise," he said with a grin, holding up a bag of takeout from my favorite restaurant.
I wanted to be happy.
I wanted to throw my arms around him, pull him inside, and pretend that this was enough.
But something inside me cracked.
"You didn't text," I said quietly, arms crossing over my chest.
His smile faltered. "I wanted to surprise you."
"Tae... I waited for you last night."
His face fell completely. "I know. I'm sorry."
"You're always sorry," I whispered, voice breaking.
"But nothing ever changes."
The room fell into silence. He set the food down on my counter, his hands trembling slightly.
"I’m trying," he said, his voice barely above a whisper.
I believed him. That was the worst part, I knew he was trying.
But love shouldn't have to feel like this.
It shouldn't feel like constantly reaching for someone who is always just out of grasp.
"Taehyung, I can’t do this anymore."
His entire body tensed. He looked at me like I had just taken the air from his lungs.
"You don’t mean that," he whispered,
stepping closer, eyes searching mine for something, anything, that would prove this wasn’t real.
But I did mean it.
"I do."
His jaw clenched, his hands balling into fists at his sides.
"You're giving up on us?"
"No," I said, shaking my head as my eyes burned with unshed tears.
"I held on for as long as I could. But I can't keep waiting for you to have time for me."
His breathing was uneven now. "You are my world, you know that."
I smiled sadly, my heart breaking with every word.
"I don’t doubt that, Tae. But love isn’t just about words. I need to feel like I belong in your life, not like I’m waiting on the sidelines, hoping for a moment that never comes."
His lips parted like he wanted to argue, to fight for us, but nothing came.
No promises, no reassurances. Just silence.
A silence that told me everything I needed to know.
Tears burned behind my eyes as I took a shaky breath and stepped back, putting space between us.
My fingers curled around the doorknob, the cool metal grounding me.
"You should go."
Taehyung didn’t move.
His jaw tensed, his hands twitching at his sides, but he didn’t fight me.
"Please," I whispered, voice barely holding together.
"Don't make this harder than it already is."
For a moment, I thought he’d refuse.
That he’d reach for me, pull me into his arms, tell me he would fix this, that he would stay.
But he didn’t.
Slowly, he reached for his coat, movements stiff, hesitant, as if every second that passed was another piece of his heart shattering.
He lingered for a moment, standing in the doorway, his dark eyes searching mine like he was trying to memorize every detail before he walked away.
"I love you," he murmured, voice breaking.
I pressed my lips together, trying to hold back the sob threatening to escape.
"I love you too."
And then, before I lost the last bit of strength I had left, I turned away.
I didn’t watch him leave.
I didn’t listen for the sound of the door closing behind him.
But when the silence settled around me, final and unforgiving, I knew.
He was gone.
And what we had was simply left in the past and forgotten.
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"Y/n?"
I snapped back to reality, blinking as Taehyung slid into the chair across from me.
His scent, clean and familiar, hit me instantly, making my stomach twist.
I had spent years wondering what it would feel like to see him again. If my heart would still react the way it used to.
If I would still feel that same ache, that same pull toward him.
And now, as he slid into the chair across from me without waiting for an invitation, I had my answer.
My stomach twisted, and my fingers curled around my coffee cup in a desperate attempt to steady myself.
"Taehyung." His name tasted unfamiliar on my tongue, yet it felt like it belonged there.
He studied me for a long moment, his gaze slow and deliberate, as if he were trying to convince himself that I was real.
"You look... different, still beautiful though," he finally said, his voice softer than I remembered.
A small, tight smile formed on my lips. "So do you."
And he did.
There was something more refined about him now, his jawline sharper, his presence more composed, his energy quieter.
His hair was styled in a way I hadn't seen before, and his outfit, though simple, carried an effortless elegance.
But beneath it all, the Taehyung I knew was still there.
It was in the way his fingers tapped absently against the table, something he always did when he was deep in thought.
In the way his eyes, though slightly guarded, still held that quiet intensity that had once been my undoing.
"Four years," he mused, shaking his head slightly.
"I thought maybe I'd run into you sooner."
"I wasn’t exactly trying to be found," I admitted, stirring my coffee even though I had no intention of drinking it.
"So I figured." He exhaled through his nose, leaning back slightly in his chair.
"You just… vanished."
I looked away, focusing on the steam rising from my cup. "I had to."
Taehyung nodded slowly, as if he understood. Maybe he did. Or maybe he was just pretending to.
"Where have you been?" he asked, tilting his head slightly.
"Here and there," I replied vaguely.
"I moved for a while. Focused on work. Traveled."
"You always said you wanted to travel more," he murmured, a small ghost of a smile playing at his lips.
"Yeah," I said softly.
"And you? How’s life treating you?"
His lips twitched, but there was something almost tired in his expression.
"Busy, as always."
That didn’t surprise me.
He had always been busy. His world had never stopped spinning, and I had long accepted that I would never be able to keep up.
"I saw your latest projects," I continued, keeping my tone light.
"You’ve been doing well. Congratulations."
He let out a small hum. "Thanks. It’s been… a lot."
"I bet."
Another pause stretched between us, but this time, it wasn’t as heavy.
It was just… there. Lingering. Holding all the things we weren’t saying.
"And now you're back," he finally said, breaking the silence.
I gave a small nod. "Just for a while."
He seemed to process that, his fingers stilling against the table.
"Are you staying long?"
"Not sure yet," I admitted, brushing a strand of hair behind my ear.
"I guess it depends."
"On what?"
I hesitated. "A lot of things."
Taehyung's gaze softened for a brief second, but just as quickly, he masked it with a neutral expression.
"Are you happy?" he asked, his voice careful.
My breath caught for just a moment.
I hadn’t expected that question.
I thought he’d ask about my work, about my travels, something simple, something safe.
But instead, he asked that.
I glanced down at my coffee cup, at the tiny ripples forming from my slightly unsteady hands.
"…Are you?" I countered, finally looking up.
His lips parted slightly, as if I had caught him off guard.
He hesitated, just for a moment, before exhaling deeply.
"I don’t know."
Neither did I.
Before I could say anything else, the café door swung open, and a gust of cold air rushed in, followed by a chorus of loud voices.
"YAH! Taehyung, you were supposed to get us coffee, not disappear!"
The familiar voice sent a jolt through me.
My breath hitched as I turned toward the commotion, my fingers tightening around my cup.
Jungkook, Jimin, and Namjoon strode into the café, brushing off the winter chill.
Their laughter and complaints filled the space, but the moment their eyes landed on me, everything stopped.
Jungkook froze mid-step, his mouth parting in shock.
His wide eyes scanned my face like he was seeing a ghost. "No freaking way..."
Jimin, who had been in the middle of playfully nudging Namjoon, nearly tripped over his own feet.
He grabbed onto Namjoon's arm, his jaw dropping. "Is that—"
"Y/n?" Namjoon's deep voice carried pure disbelief.
I couldn’t move.
For a split second, I considered bolting.
The weight of their stares, the flood of memories crashing over me, it was overwhelming.
But I stayed, frozen in place as the reality of the moment settled in.
Jungkook was the first to break from his trance.
In a blink, he was sliding into the seat next to me, eyes scanning my features like he needed to confirm I was real.
"Where the hell have you been?" His voice was low, raw.
I swallowed, suddenly feeling like all the air had been sucked out of the room.
"It’s... a long story."
Jimin crossed his arms, tilting his head, his eyes narrowed in a mix of confusion and hurt.
"Good thing we have time, then."
Back when Taehyung and me used to date I had this amazing bond with the other members.
It was almost as if they were my actual brothers.
I knew that my disappearance didn't only hurt Taehyung but also the guys.
Taehyung, who had been watching the interaction in silence, shot them a sharp look, but Namjoon placed a steadying hand on his shoulder.
"We’re not attacking her, Tae," Namjoon said quietly, though his voice carried an edge of emotion.
"We just... thought we lost her for good."
A pang of guilt hit me square in the chest.
My throat tightened as I lowered my gaze.
"I'm sorry."
Jungkook let out a scoff, shaking his head as he ran a hand through his hair.
"You're sorry?" His voice cracked slightly.
"Y/n, we thought something happened to you. We thought—" He cut himself off, clenching his jaw, frustration evident in his dark eyes.
Jimin's posture softened, and he leaned forward, his voice quieter now.
"Why did you leave?"
I could feel Taehyung's eyes burning into me, waiting, searching, but I couldn’t look at him.
Not yet.
My fingers trembled slightly as I exhaled. "Because I was scared."
The words felt heavy as they left my lips.
A thick silence settled over the table, stretching uncomfortably long.
Jungkook let out a slow breath, shaking his head as he leaned back in his chair.
"You should’ve at least told us. We were your family, too."
My chest ached. I had always known that leaving them would hurt, but I had convinced myself it was necessary.
That disappearing was the only way to protect my heart from breaking beyond repair.
But seeing the hurt in their eyes made me realize just how much damage I had left in my wake.
I forced a small, sad smile. "I know. And I regret it every day."
Namjoon studied me carefully, his sharp eyes searching for something beneath the surface.
After what felt like an eternity, he gave a slow nod.
"You’re back now. That’s what matters."
I wanted to believe that.
I really did.
But as I finally lifted my gaze to meet Taehyung’s, I knew the past wasn’t done with me yet.
And neither was he.
My mind was still reeling from the overwhelming reunion, the weight of guilt and nostalgia pressing against my chest.
Jungkook hadn’t stopped looking at me, like he was afraid I’d disappear again if he blinked.
Jimin kept stealing glances, his expression a mix of happiness and unresolved emotions, while Namjoon sat in quiet contemplation, observing everything.
And Taehyung, he hadn’t said much, but his presence was suffocating in the best and worst ways.
"Come with us," Jungkook blurted out suddenly, his tone leaving no room for argument.
I blinked. "What?"
"Come with us," he repeated, standing up and stretching as if the conversation was already decided.
"We're heading back to the dorm, and you’re coming too."
I hesitated, my fingers tightening around my coffee cup.
"I don’t know if that’s a good idea—"
"Too bad," Jimin cut in, grabbing my wrist playfully.
"You don’t get a say in this. We need to properly yell at you for ghosting us."
Namjoon smirked, shaking his head.
"Ignore him. We just… we missed you, Y/n. And the others should know you’re back."
I opened my mouth to protest, but Taehyung finally spoke, his deep voice sending a shiver down my spine.
"Come with us."
I met his gaze, and for a moment, neither of us said anything.
There was something unreadable in his expression, something careful, like he wasn’t sure if he could handle me being here, but he wasn’t ready to let me go either.
And just like that, I caved.
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The second we stepped inside, the warmth of the dorm wrapped around me like a familiar embrace.
The scent of home-cooked food lingered in the air, and the faint sound of a television echoed from the living room.
Before I could even take in my surroundings, Hoseok’s voice rang through the space.
"Tae, did you even get the coffee or—"
His words cut off as he stepped into view, his eyes widening as they landed on me.
"Holy shit," Yoongi muttered from his spot on the couch, his entire body tensing.
Jin, who had been in the kitchen, peeked his head out, a wooden spoon still in his hand.
"Is this a fever dream? Or did Y/n just resurrect after four years?"
Jungkook let out a dramatic sigh.
"Yep, she’s alive and breathing. Can you believe it?"
I shifted awkwardly under their stares. "Hi."
My voice came out softer than I intended, uncertain.
There was a beat of silence before chaos erupted.
"WHERE HAVE YOU BEEN?"
Jin practically shouted, walking over and inspecting me like I was an illusion.
"You really just disappeared on us!" Hoseok added, still in shock.
"I thought Jungkook was lying when he said you were here," Yoongi admitted, rubbing his temple.
I winced at the wave of questions thrown my way.
"Okay, okay, one at a time!" Jimin laughed, waving his hands to calm the room down.
Namjoon, ever the leader, stepped in.
"Guys, let’s not overwhelm her. She’s here now. That’s what matters."
Slowly, the tension eased.
One by one, the members softened, replacing their initial shock with quiet relief.
Jin pulled me into a tight hug, his usual playful demeanor laced with something more serious.
"Don’t ever do that again, okay?"
I nodded, my throat tightening. "I won’t."
As the night went on, the questions died down, replaced by laughter and inside jokes.
It was like I had never left.
But there was still an unspoken weight in the air, a conversation left unfinished.
And Taehyung felt it too.
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Eventually, the members started heading to their rooms, leaving only me and Taehyung in the dimly lit living room.
The TV played quietly in the background, casting a soft glow across his face.
I sat on the couch, pulling my knees up as he settled beside me, his presence close but not overwhelming.
For a while, neither of us spoke.
Then, finally, he broke the silence.
"Why did you really leave? I mean I knew I wasn't the best boyfriend and didn't give you all my time but still. I know you and I know that there is more to it."
I exhaled, my gaze dropping to my hands. "I told you. I was scared."
"Scared of what?" His voice was gentle, but there was something else laced within it, something raw.
I swallowed, gathering my thoughts.
"Scared of losing myself in your world. Scared of becoming someone who was always waiting for you, always watching from the sidelines. You had so much ahead of you, Tae. And I felt like I was just… holding you back."
He let out a shaky breath, his fingers curling slightly against his knee. "You never held me back, Y/n."
"It felt like I did." I finally turned to face him, my heart hammering.
"I loved you so much, and it hurt. It hurt to watch you get further and further away from me. And I knew, eventually, I’d become someone you’d have to choose between. And I didn’t want that for you."
Taehyung’s jaw tightened, his expression unreadable.
"That wasn’t your choice to make."
I blinked at the quiet frustration in his voice.
"I know," I admitted softly.
"But it was the only way I knew how to protect myself."
He looked away for a moment, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallowed hard.
"Do you regret it?"
I hesitated. "Yes. And no. I think… I needed to leave to understand what I wanted. But I hate that I hurt you."
Taehyung exhaled sharply, leaning forward, his elbows resting on his knees.
"You did hurt me, Y/n. A lot. I spent years wondering what I did wrong. Wondering why you couldn’t at least tell me."
His voice cracked slightly, and my chest ached at the vulnerability in his words.
"I’m sorry," I whispered. "If I could take it back—"
"You can’t," he interrupted, but there was no malice in his tone. Just quiet acceptance.
I nodded, my fingers gripping the fabric of my sleeves.
"I know. But… I’m here now. And if you’ll let me, I want to make it right."
Taehyung turned to face me fully then, his dark eyes searching mine.
"Do you still love me?" he asked, voice barely above a whisper.
I sucked in a breath, my pulse thundering.
"I never stopped."
His shoulders slumped slightly, like he had been bracing for a different answer.
For a long moment, he didn’t speak.
Then, finally, he nodded, a small, tired smile tugging at his lips.
"I’m not ready to just jump back in, Y/n." His voice was careful, measured.
"But… I don’t want to lose you again."
I nodded, understanding completely. "Me neither."
He reached for my hand then, hesitating for just a second before intertwining his fingers with mine.
"Let’s take it slow," he murmured.
"Okay," I whispered back.
It wasn’t a perfect ending.
But it was a new beginning.
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The days that followed felt like stepping into the past, only this time, it wasn’t clouded with uncertainty.
Taehyung and I weren’t rushing into anything, but we were gravitating toward each other again, rediscovering what we had lost.
We took it step by step.
One night, Taehyung showed up outside my apartment, leaning casually against his car, hands tucked into his coat pockets.
"Come on," he said with that familiar glint in his eyes.
"Let’s go for a drive."
It was something we used to do all the time, no destination, no plans, just music and the city lights.
I didn’t hesitate.
With the windows rolled down and the cool night air brushing against our faces, we drove through the empty streets of Seoul.
The radio played softly in the background, and Taehyung hummed along, his deep voice making my heart ache in the best way.
"You still sing along to every song," I teased, smiling at him.
He smirked, flicking his gaze toward me.
"And you still stare at me when I do."
I rolled my eyes, looking away, but the warmth in my chest only grew.
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Another afternoon, Taehyung showed up with a picnic basket. "We need fresh air."
We spent hours at the park, lying on a blanket under the shade of a tree.
I watched as he tossed crumbs to the birds, his eyes crinkling when a small flock gathered around him.
"They trust me," he said proudly.
"That’s because you’re bribing them with food," I laughed.
But I couldn't deny it, watching him interact with the simplest things, the way he found joy in moments like this, made my heart feel lighter.
At one point, he turned to me, resting his head against his arm.
"It feels like old times, doesn’t it?"
I nodded, my fingers playing with the edge of the blanket.
"Yeah… it does."
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One evening, it started pouring just as we were leaving a café.
"Shit," I muttered, looking up at the sky.
"We’re gonna get soaked."
But instead of running for cover, Taehyung stepped into the rain, tilting his head back as water dripped down his face.
"Come on, scaredy-cat," he grinned, reaching for my hand.
I hesitated, but then, just like before, I let him pull me into the downpour.
We laughed as we splashed through puddles, our clothes drenched, hair sticking to our faces.
He spun me around like we were in some cheesy movie, his eyes never leaving mine.
"You’re ridiculous," I giggled, breathless.
"And you love it," he shot back.
I didn't deny it.
That night, we ended up back at the dorm.
The other members were out, leaving the place unusually quiet.
Taehyung handed me a towel, both of us still damp from the rain. "Here. Dry off before you get sick."
I took it, rubbing my hair, watching as he did the same.
He looked so soft in that moment, his usual sharp features relaxed, his warm eyes full of something I couldn’t quite name.
"Tae," I started, my voice quieter now.
He looked up, waiting.
I hesitated, but then let the words spill.
"I’m really happy we’re doing this again. I was scared that too much time had passed, that we wouldn’t fit the way we used to."
He walked over, sitting beside me on the couch.
"You’re not the only one who was scared, Y/n."
I turned to him, my heart hammering. "You were?"
He nodded. "I thought I lost you forever. And even now, I keep wondering if this is real. If you’ll leave again."
I reached for his hand, squeezing gently. "I won’t."
His gaze flickered down to our intertwined fingers, then back to me. His voice was softer when he spoke again.
"Then prove it."
I swallowed, nerves buzzing under my skin.
"How?" I whispered.
His eyes searched mine, and before I could think too much, his fingers brushed my cheek, tucking a damp strand of hair behind my ear.
"Stay."
And just like that, the space between us disappeared.
His lips met mine in a slow, lingering kiss, one that spoke of lost time, of years of longing, of a love that had never really left.
When we finally pulled away, my forehead rested against his, both of us catching our breath.
"We’re really doing this, huh?" I murmured, smiling.
"Yeah," he whispered back.
"But this time, we take it slow. We prove it to each other."
"Deal."
A moment of peace settled between us until the sound of a loud thump broke it.
We both turned toward the hallway, where muffled whispers and scrambling footsteps could be heard.
Jungkook’s voice came first. "I TOLD YOU THE FLOOR WOULD CREAK!"
Jimin hissed back. "Shut up, you were the one leaning too close!"
Namjoon sighed. "I swear, you’re all children—"
Taehyung groaned, rubbing his temples. "Are you seriously spying on us?"
The door swung open slightly, revealing Jin with a smug grin. "Not spying. Just… confirming suspicions."
Yoongi peered over his shoulder. "Took you two long enough."
Hoseok beamed. "So, are you guys official now, or do we need to suffer through more slow burns?"
Taehyung threw a pillow at them. "GET OUT!"
Laughter erupted as they scattered like kids caught doing something bad.
I shook my head, laughing as I leaned into Taehyung’s side.
He sighed dramatically. "This is our life now."
"Yeah," I grinned, squeezing his hand. "And I wouldn’t have it any other way."
The end
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thewintersoldierdisaster · 2 days ago
Note
https://www.tumblr.com/allthisscienceidontunderstand/774504308472479744/live-action-lady-and-the-tramp-but-its-actually
Ace being backstage on the shooting of these cause willy asked her to bring the dogs and she takes the baby and willy takes a picture with him that never gets published 😮‍💨
Also reminds me to ask: do they post him on their social media? Show his face etc or just back shots? - 🎀
first of all, bestie, the noise i let out when i saw these pictures was not ladylike WHATSOEVER
second of all, i LOVE the idea that ace and gunnar were there too!! 🥰
so i think at first, ace is like not into the idea of coming along. she’s only two months postpartum, still feeling weird in her body, doesn’t want the attention that going along with william will bring. but he asked if she’d bring the dogs later in the shoot so they’re not there for the whole time acting up
he’s like “oh no, it’s a closed thing. we’re going when sugo’s closed for the day and if you come along, you’ll get whatever you want off the menu”
the lure of your favorite italian food is what convinces her. so after william’s been at the restaurant for a couple of hours, ace makes sure gunnar is fed and dressed up a little, gets herself dressed up nicely too - makeup, fixes her hair, changes out of the casual loungewear that’s been her staple
the dogs are clipped onto their leashes because ace already has enough on her plate with gunnar in the stroller and she doesn’t need them possibly running off even though they’re very well trained
william is thrilled to see her and the baby and the dogs, greets her with a huge hug and a kiss on the cheek. and he looks so handsome in his purplish-pink suit, smells so good, and ace is just a girl who’s halfway in love with her baby daddy
gunnar’s wide awake as soon as he hear’s william’s voice, gurgling and kicking his feet until william rubs a hand over his stomach and kisses the baby’s head too, “sorry, little cakester, can’t pick you up right now just in case you decide to give us an explosion again”
gunnar coos in a way that ace is pretty sure means he knows exactly what he’s doing with the diaper blowouts
she settles in in the carrier while william finishes the shoot with the dogs, bouncing him in her arms and pointing at william, “look, it’s daddy and your puppies. isn’t that so fun?”
and the dogs come to her side too, when they’re bored of posing, scratching at her legs and nosing at gunnar’s socked feet. banksy nips at a sock and tugs it off the baby’s foot, delivering it to william, who laughs and tucks it in his pocket
when things are winding down, william comes to take gunnar, cuddling him close and bouncing him in his arms like a football. the baby grabs at the lapels on william’s suit, chewing on his other fist
they’re adorable together and ace takes a few photos on her phone, sending them to the nylander family group chat that she’s been part of since the summer. everyone blows up her phone with messages on how cute gunnar is
william asks the photographer if he can take a few family photos and ace objects - “no no, i’m not really dressed for it” - but william insists and before she knows it, ace is sitting at the table too, the dogs surrounding her legs while william has gunnar on his lap
there’s a few different shots, including one of ace hovering over william’s shoulder with a napkin after gunnar spit up on the shoulder of his suit. william’s laughing and ace is cringing and gunnar just looks delighted to be there
they get the photos after the shoot, when the ones of william and the dogs are posted on social media and ace can’t get over how good they look. they really look like a perfect little family and it makes her all misty
the photographer even took a few candids of them, william looking at her and gunnar with a soft expression on his face, william grinning broadly at gunnar, ace’s eyes all crinkled up as she watches them 🥹
as for gunnar on social media - i’ll do more of a deep dive, but they generally don’t post him on socials at all for a few months and if they do, it’s just a hand or a foot or a blurry shot, his face is never seen in photos that any of the nylanders post
when he’s a little older, they’re both more chill about posting pictures of the family, also because william and ace are together at that point and the relationship and baby are like toronto’s worst kept secret
they still don’t really post too much of his full face, just for privacy reasons, which is also part of the reason william never says anything publicly about the pregnancy or their relationship 🤍
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luvashli · 2 days ago
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03 -> TENSION
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Synopsis -> Y/N, a daring motorcycle racer, catches the attention of seven competitive car racers called ENHYPEN. Driven by lust and rivalry, the boys chase her both on and off the track, but as the tension builds, their obsession with her grows. Will they see her for more than just a prize, or will their dangerous desires consume them?
y/n’s motorcycle/ Enhypen’s cars
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The night air was cool, cutting through the sweat on her skin as she revved the Ducati’s engine, steering it toward the abandoned lot. It wasn’t part of the race route, but she knew a shortcut that the boys wouldn’t expect. If they wanted to chase her, they would have to deal with her pace—and her terms.
She’d learned early on that in this world, control wasn’t just about being the fastest—it was about holding power. Power over the street, power over the race, and power over the people who tried to own you. But there was something about the seven of them—something that kept her attention. They weren’t just another group of racers.
They were predators. And right now, she was their prey.
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The sound of engines still echoed in the air as Y/N pulled into the dimly lit parking lot, the roar of her Ducati’s engine finally dying down as she slowed to a stop. She didn’t even have to look behind her to know the boys were trailing behind, their cars sliding into the lot, some of them revving their engines for emphasis.
She parked the Ducati, leaving it on its side stand with a deliberate, confident move. She slid off the bike, adjusting the straps of her leather jacket and tossing her helmet to the side. There was no rush to confront them, but she knew they’d be here soon. They always came for the chase, even when they knew they’d lose.
Jungwon’s GT-R R35 rolled in first, the midnight blue car almost silent as it came to a stop beside her. He didn’t get out immediately, just leaned back in his seat, his eyes following her every movement. The rest of the boys parked, too—each of them making their presence known in their own way.
Jake was next to her, the deep green Mustang Shelby GT500 growling as he parked it at an angle, leaning out of the driver’s side with a smirk. He looked at her like he wanted to say something, but he didn’t, the unspoken challenge hanging thick in the air between them.
Sunghoon’s Audi R8 V10 Plus came to a quiet stop on the far side, its sleek black form looking like a shadow in the night. Sunghoon didn’t bother with a flourish or an entrance. He just stepped out and leaned against the car, his sharp eyes fixed on Y/N, but there was no emotion behind them—just a silent observation.
“Not bad,” Jungwon finally broke the silence, his tone neutral but with a hint of respect in it. He leaned back, his hands still on the wheel, staring at Y/N like he was trying to figure her out. “You’re fast.”
“Fast enough,” she replied coolly, pushing her helmet back off her head and letting her long hair cascade down her shoulders. Her confidence was undeniable, and she didn’t seem fazed by the group of boys now surrounding her. It was a quiet standoff, each of them watching the other, but there were no words of admiration or affection—just tension.
Jake stretched his arm across the steering wheel, eyeing her with a grin that didn’t quite reach his eyes. “So, what now?” he asked casually, his fingers tapping the steering wheel rhythmically. The playful edge to his voice was there, but he didn’t seem particularly eager to move things forward. “No more chasing?”
Y/N didn’t immediately answer. Her eyes flicked to the others—Sunghoon, who stood with his usual calm air; Heeseung, who had remained silent this entire time, his Porsche parked a little farther away; and Sunoo, leaning against his Lamborghini, the faintest trace of a smile on his lips. All of them were watching her, each one sizing her up in their own way.
Before Y/N could answer, the sharp sound of sirens cut through the night air.
“Shit.” Jungwon’s gaze snapped toward the sound of the approaching sirens. He cursed under his breath, his eyes narrowing. “The cops. We need to get out of here.”
In an instant, the atmosphere shifted. It wasn’t about the race anymore; it was about getting away cleanly. The boys were already on edge—cautious, as they all turned their attention to the flashing lights in the distance. The adrenaline was still coursing through their veins, but now it wasn’t just about proving who was faster—it was about avoiding a run-in with the law.
Y/N didn’t hesitate. Her foot pressed down on the accelerator, and her Ducati roared to life once more, its engine howling as she swerved around the cars, heading straight for the exit. The boys, realizing what was happening, reacted quickly. The sound of engines revving filled the lot as the cars surged to life, and in a split second, the parking lot was filled with screeching tires and the blur of high-performance machines.
Jake’s Mustang Shelby GT500 roared as he sped off, the green car cutting a sharp path through the lot. Sunghoon’s Audi followed, sleek and fast, cutting through the space with surgical precision. Jungwon’s GT-R wasn’t far behind, its midnight blue form disappearing into the night as he pushed it to its limits. Sunoo’s Lamborghini wasn’t far behind, all sharp lines and speed, while Heeseung took his time, letting the Porsche’s smooth acceleration get him out of the danger zone with calculated grace.
The chaos erupted for a few moments—cars darting through the parking lot, engines roaring, the cops still getting closer. But as the race for escape began, Y/N was already gone, her Ducati flying down the street and cutting through the city like a blade. Her body leaned into the curves of the road, the feeling of speed and freedom washing over her, completely in control.
The boys, too, were quick to scatter. But this time, Y/N didn’t care about the chase. She didn’t need to prove herself again tonight. She’d won her race—against Jungwon, at least. And that was enough.
Later that night, in her apartment…
Y/N sat on the edge of her couch, her Ducati helmet resting on the coffee table in front of her. The lights of the city outside flickered through her window, but it felt far away from the thrill of the race. She could still feel the tension in her body from the adrenaline, the rush of speeding through the streets, and the satisfaction of knowing she’d beaten Jungwon.
She ran a hand through her hair, the memory of the race still fresh in her mind. The way his GT-R had tried to overtake her, the smooth, calculated precision of his driving. She smiled to herself, amused. He was good. But she was better. For now.
The race had been exciting, but it had also been a game. A game she was still playing. And the boys—Jungwon, Jake, Sunghoon, the rest—were all part of that game. They didn’t care about her yet, not in the way she cared about the race. They were only interested in one thing: the chase. And Y/N was just the prize at the end of it all.
But it didn’t matter. She knew they’d be back. They always came back for more.
Her eyes flickered to the empty space on the table where her helmet had been, and she let out a small breath, the thought lingering in her mind.
Next race. They’d all be there again.
Y/N knew the boys were coming for her. And when they did, she’d be ready.
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redroomroaving · 4 hours ago
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Alrighty, everyone, here's the lines, starting with Red Harp and then the rest under the cut. I generally wrote a bit more than I needed to but it's me so:
The Red Harp (Victorian AU, 1 vote)
Rugan pulled his hat down a little, covering his eyes; as expected, quite the gaggle had gathered by the Guignol, drawn by the crushers no doubt. 
He skirted the crowd of gawping faces, watching and whispering, eyes peeled for his target.
There he was; the Chief Constable himself, all fine thick wool coat and hair pulled back and waxed neat, as if there were any amount of slick that could distract the eyes from those bloody great horns of his. 
Written in Glitter / Rave AU (Modern anti-capitalist gay eco-terrorist millenial nonsense au, 3 votes)
Geraldus hovered - a sinking feeling in his stomach even before his eyes really registered what it was he was looking at. He saw the soles first - clean and white - a pair of red sneakers sticking out of the brush.
Lae’zel had gone still beside him, eyes fixed on the same point, and her expression told him that she’d realised what it was too.
“A drunk?” He asked, hopefully, knowing already it wasn’t. 
-
A Disastrous Path (Rugan, Olly, Tecothy, Moy adventures, 2 votes)
Olly braced for the impact, eyes screwed shut so at least he wouldn’t see it when he died. 
Instead, he heard a sound a bit too familiar; a noise not unlike a butchers cleaver cracking through the knuckle of a pig. 
He braved opening one eye and watched the duergar’s eyes roll back in his head to the dagger now embedded in his skull before he dropped.
Seconds later, another was hovering over him, a pair of red eyes looking him over whilst he tried to remember to breathe.
“Get up,” Tecothy said, “you’re alive.”
-
Conductor, Ringmaster (Klaus & Kar'niss, 3 votes.)
“W-wait-Ni-mmnn-” Klaus stuttered, but his protest was a bit too late; the drider had already swept down - clasping his head in his hands as he set upon his mouth with a hungry kiss.
Klaus responded dizzily, trying half-heartedly to push him back, but he didn’t try very hard. His head was spinning, and his lungs still felt like they were bubbling and brewing.
Kar’niss pulled back, tongue drawing over his lips as he did, catching a little of the poison that lingered there - a small hiss in his throat.
Klaus winced.
“I - are -” Klaus watched Kar’niss’ expression run a quick gamut - surprise - distaste - curiosity, “... uh…”
“...be careful,” Klaus finished his protest, “we don’t know if you’re as immune to my poison as I am to yours.”
-
Worn & Adored (Rugan x Zevlor, 2 votes, BIT SPICY BE AWARE)
He shifted beneath him, and Zevlor felt his thigh sliding between his own, pressing up, firmly and intently, against his cock.
Zevlor felt himself freeze, the jolt of hunger that rocked through him in response to that simple, crude move a greater surprise than the contact itself.
Not that he had much time to make sense of it. Rugan had already moved, lurching upwards suddenly, warm lips catching Zevlor’s parted gasp in a kiss.
-
The Gauntlet (He Who Was and Lae'zel on the Fury Road, 3 votes)
His fingers pressed across her lips, but not her nostrils. 
Held over her with weight distributed precisely - pinning her limbs to the floor but not her gut, not her lungs - not crushing her. He was holding her in place. 
His eyes met her own deliberately. Then, after a moment, they flicked up - inviting her gaze to follow his. 
He was silencing her; their skirmish had drawn attention.
-
Never-ending broth (Donnick & Abdirak, 4 votes)
“You, my dear,” Abdirak said as he did, holding his gaze in return, “our world connected, my tethered bones.”
Donnick pressed his brow to Abdirak's - hard - and grinned wider still.
“I love it when you say things like that,” he said. 
Abdirak grinned back, warm, pleased - appreciated.
“Good; I have no intentions of stopping,” he said, “I'll invent the words if I must.”
-
Powerless (Geraldus & Bor blindfold oneshot, 1 vote)
Geraldus pressed his nose into the curve of his neck, taking in the scent of him - so warm against his lips - the smell of salt and must and lingering embers. With eyes covered, his particular aroma carried Geraldus somewhere else: a memory slipped into without thought, of sitting before his mother’s hearth watching licking flames. 
“Burning wood,” he murmured against his throat, and felt the shudder that rippled across Bor’s body from where his words brushed skin, “and…”
Home. 
-
Sharp fist, Sharp suit (Rolan x Aradin, 2 votes)
He barely even looked at him; those gold eyes flitting up and over him and dismissing him in seconds - an exhale, like he was sick of the sight of him already. 
Foulblood thinks he’s too good for this, Aradin thought, finding his gut twisting into something nasty, an acidic sort of lurch he hated for being there, too good to talk to me.
“We don’t sell it,” the tiefling said blithely, turning the page of the book before him.
“You haven’t even asked what I want yet,” Aradin replied, jutting his chin. 
“Whatever it is you want,” the tiefling turned another page, “we don’t sell it.” 
POLL WIP GAME (CRYPTIC EDITION)
I was tagged by the maniacal @quescon, thanks for this, I hear you gleefully cackling from here.
Rules:
Put the names (or cryptic codenames, if you wish) of your wips into a 24 hour poll and let your followers loose. By the end of your poll, for each vote you receive, you have to add a sentence (or 15 words, whichever you prefer) to the wip that the vote was for. Results shating is optional, but fun! Finish you Fucking Fics February be upon ye!
I hate that I could actually add more to this poll, and I have purposefully left off 'A Harper Fell Here'. I am pathological.
I'll tag @darkurgetrash @kimberbohwrites @lizziemajestic @forget-me-maybe @graysparrowao3 @reverieblondie @vera-king-hrfl @dutifullylazybread, @beetrixstavern and whoever else wishes to join in.
19 notes · View notes
moonspirit · 11 months ago
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OH MY GOD THEY FUCKING FIXED HIS HAIR!!!!!!!
The original:
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The Blu-ray:
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THEY FUCKING FIXED IT!!!!!!
(Source on the bird app) also thank you anna for showing it to me, it's made my whole fucking day nahdbsksns T///////T
251 notes · View notes
lalunanymph · 11 months ago
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ΉΣЯ & ƬΉΣ ƧΣΛ
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༊ you ask rafayel how lemurians reproduce, and he can't wait to show you
✯ warnings; rafayel x fem!reader, established relationship, MONSTERFUCKING, switch!rafayel, switch!reader, rafayel's lemurian form, sex underwater, reader is coded to be feminine (wears a dress and lingerie), mentions of alien genitalia, rafayel calls reader 'master' once, petnames (my little conch shell, my queen, baby, my love, miss bodyguard), size kink (reader is obvs smaller than him, he's a goddamn mErmAID), OVIPOSITION, dirty talk, language, breeding, girl on top position, missionary, reader sucks his merman cock (lmao), dubious breathing underwater methods, mentions of food, mentions of alcohol, suggestive content, slight spoilers for rafayel's myth if you squint, mild angst
✯ istg i am a zayne girlie but something about rafayel just makes me go feral
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"𝐇𝐎𝐖 𝐃𝐎 𝐌𝐄𝐑𝐌𝐀𝐈𝐃𝐒 𝐌𝐀𝐊𝐄 𝐁𝐀𝐁𝐈𝐄𝐒?"
The question stunned Rafayel from taking a bite of his souffle pancakes, his fork pausing from its journey into his now lax mouth. Sunlight continues streaming in past the French windows; the patrons of this cafe going about their day, oblivious to the malfunctioning celebrity artist amongst them.
A glob of whip cream freefalls off the metal tines and onto his plate. Those magnetic pink-blue eyes flash with a multitude of colors—like a sea-worn rock under the brilliant sun. 
However, as fast as your question hit him, he overcame it; no one could say that Mr. Rafayel, the art world's maverick and media-trained connoisseur, was slow in recovering his wits.
His signature teasing smile in place, Rafayel placed his fork back down onto the table.
Across from you, two friends were speaking in low tones and judging from their expression, unpacking their love lives with the sombreness of a priest reciting a divorce rite.
Rafayel blinked, tilting his head to the side. 
"Why would you ask, Miss Bodyguard?" 
He casually slung an arm over the back of his chair, a million dollar smile gleaming and ready. "Or, has something struck your most vivid imagination?" 
Laying it on thick, he couldn't even begin to disguise the gleam of his teeth—shining like the incisors of a great white after smelling fresh blood in the ocean. 
"I never thought you would be so sugges—ouch!"
Rafayel winced, and doubled over, rubbing his shin under the table. "What was that for?" 
You huffed, and fixed him a glare. "Don't embarrass me." 
"I was just joking."
"Wasn't funny." 
"Yeesh. You're really wound up about this, huh?" 
That infuriating smirk was plastered back onto his face; his boyish features making something in your chest squeeze. 
"Shut up and answer the question." 
He pretended to ponder on it for a moment. More color illuminates his stunning amethyst irises. Shining like jewels, only he knew the value of his true thoughts. 
Before you could retract your question and salvage this bright afternoon, Rafayel surprises you with his next words.
"Why don't I show you, my little conch shell?" 
You freeze. Scanning the area, you wondered if this was the right conversation to be having in such a brightly lit area. Granted, you and Rafayel were past the carnal stage —after being together for close to a year, your bodies were well-worn maps that lips and fingers could retrace and discover any time.
Fighting back a laugh, you shake your head.
"Is this another one of your racy propositions again?"
Rafayel merely smirked. "If that is how you wish to see it." 
Seriously now, you counter, "Will I have paint in my hair again?" 
Memories flash in your mind; of a large canvas, soft candlelight, and streaks of paint on the most random parts of your body found weeks after the deed was done. 
Your lover sits back, using one slender finger to cross over his heart. "I promise your hair won't go through such torment anymore." Despite your best efforts, your eyes trail to his broad chest, and the enticing V of his defined pecs.
As if sensing your eyes on him, Rafayel's mirth grows. "Looks like you can't resist much longer, I'll make you a deal—" 
He leaned in close—much too close—and you could smell the vanilla on his breath; the sunlight glinting off those purple irises softening with a look of warmth only he held for you.
"—come with me tonight to Whitesand Bay, and I promise you won't regret it." 
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Muggy and balmy in the evening, Whitesand Bay wasn't exactly the ideal meet up spot for Rafayel to finally fulfill his promise and show you how mermaids reproduce. 
But, you showed up anyway.
Dressed in a light, silk dress to combat the heavy heat of the summer night, you cautiously made your way down to the docks, keeping your eyes and ears peeled for Rafayel. 
"You're here." He appeared a moment later, dashing as usual in his white button-down and pristine slacks. Dazzling under the half-light, you allowed him to take your hand and lead you right to a boat.
"We're not going for a to take a deep dive like last time, right?" Hearing the skepticism in your voice, he laughs.
"Of course, not. I paid Thomas a huge bonus last month and told him to buy a speedboat. For us to borrow, if you're curious." 
"Poor Thomas," you mused, letting him hold you close to his side as he helped you atop the board. "His boss is a tyrant... asking him to use his bonus for such lavish nonsense."
"Is it really a lavish nonsense if I get to have you here?" 
Rafayel's sincerity struck you mute. He breezed past your shocked figure, unaware of the effect he has on you. "Well? Are you going to continue mocking my methods of employment or are we going to do this?" 
Even though his chest was puffed and voice full of bravado, you could tell your sweet artist boyfriend was struggling with his nerves. The tips of his ears were bright red, a faint shadow of a pout on his lips. 
"Raffie," you whisper, taking his hand. He glanced at you, wide-eyed like a fish caught on the bait. "What're you so scared of? It's just you and me."
He lets you rub your thumb across his knuckles, tightening your hold on his fingers.
"I just..." he trails off. "... just don't want you to think I'm a freak. That's all."
Rafayel refused to look at you when he was this vulnerable, and you couldn't help the short giggle bursting past your defenses. He glared, and you quickly reached for his face, touching his cheek.
"Never," you emphasize. "I will never think you're weird. Ever. Besides, if you're a freak then I'm the weirdo in love with you."
Your dopey grin sets something aflutter in his chest, like ripples of ocean waves splashing across a strange shore. Rafayel smirks and takes your hand off his face, choosing to twine his fingers with yours. 
"Shall we make a move, then, my little conch shell?" 
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"Rafayel..."
The sight before you stuns you with its splendor. Your beloved boyfriend had gone all out—picnic blankets, lighted candles, flutes of champagne, and spreads of seafood as far as the eye could see... arranged all across the flatbed of this hidden alcove where the sea kisses the land. 
In the distance, the gentle swishes of waves lapping at the shore greeted your ears, its waves illuminated faintly as if lit from within.
"Bioluminescent algae," Rafayel murmurs right behind you. His arms came to wrap around your waist, the heat of his breath fanning right across your exposed neck. "They only appear in the summer when the water is warm." You fight back a shiver, trying not to show how affected you were by his presence. 
"Oh." Dumbly, you weren't sure how to put your thoughts together, much less a coherent sentence. 
Sensing your speechlessness, Rafayel exhaled a laugh. "Come on. We should eat before the food gets cold."
There's a dip in his tone, something tinged with a darker emotion you barely had time to unravel before he was tugging you onto the picnic mat. The food was divine, his personal chefs going all out to satisfy both of your palettes. Conversation flowed easily like the champagne slipping down your throat, coaxing you to release the tightness in your chest in favor of bubbly giggles and flirty smiles.
Rafayel's cheeks were steadily growing pinker, and you were sure he would double over and pass out—forgetting about your brazen question—when you felt his hand on your thigh.
"Would you like to take a swim with me?" 
Memories of seaweed brushing your bare legs, Rafayel’s arms steadily around your waist as he led you past the shoreline fills your mind. Anything cool sounded like a blessing from this heat. 
Plus, he was a pretty good swimmer, as evident from what he truly was. Rafayel would never put you in harm’s way. 
Safe. That was the word. You always feel safe with him. 
“Yes.”
He takes your hand, gives it a squeeze and helps you stand.
Rafayel started to undress first. The hem of his expensive silk shirt reveals the fitted band of his equally expensive slacks—made by the best tailors in all of Linkon. Then, pale skin. It stretches, tightens over defined obliques, abs and then his impressively broad chest. 
Scattered across the sinew and muscle roping his torso were smatterings of moles and beauty marks. 
Someone once told you that these marks were spots past lovers used to love kissing. You idly trace your gaze over the one on his left pec, right over his heart. 
If Rafayel and you had been together in the past, you were sure that the spot over his heart would be your favorite spot to plant your lips on him. 
As furtively as you could, you tried not to gape at him, but completely failed.
Rafayel was a masterpiece made by the gods themselves, and you were the poor fool gaping at his altar; transfixed on the sharp V which led to a light dusting of his happy trail. 
His cock strains behind his slacks, bulging noticeably. You want to reach out and skim your fingers, eager to feel it twitch under your touch. 
"Well?" His gentle amusement tore your thoughts from their sinful vices. "Are you gonna just stare at me or are we going for a swim? Your pick, Miss Bodyguard." 
Showing that you were far braver than you felt, you stood up, shaky hands reaching for the straps of your dress. "Don't look at me." 
A surge of heat flooded your cheeks, your eyes resolutely turned to the side. Obediently, Rafayel followed your orders, though you could hear the cogs turning in his head. It's not like I haven't seen her naked before.  
But, this wasn’t the usual plotting, teasing and flirting you both would indulge in.
Something about the air tonight felt heavier. 
Intimate.
You swore Rafayel could pick up your heartbeat from where he stood. The heat on your cheeks spread down your chest, tingling on your fingertips.
“Okay. I’m ready.”
In nothing but in your lingerie, you shift from foot to foot, feeling too vulnerable and open.
The sky above yawns wide, inky black jaws lovingly unfurling like a spread of velvet sheets. His hand is warm in yours, and you squeeze it, trying to hide how you were trembling. 
“Hey.” Rafayel sweeps you into his arms. Try as you might to fight off the nerves, they bubble up in a short squeak when your face meets his chest. “Relax, baby. You’re shaking like a bubble in the sun… don’t pop just yet.”
You find comfort in his scent—oceanic and musky—breathing him in. 
Do you trust me? Rafayel once asked when you both were drunk on a night out. 
Of course, I do. You flick his nose. Why wouldn’t I trust you? 
Even if I’m different? He fixes you with a look, lucid for someone who had just downed an entire champagne bottle. And I can’t be normal for you? 
Especially because you aren’t normal in the sense of its word… I trust you even more because you trusted me, first. 
Waves lap at your toes, and you shiver at how cool the water is. 
“Easy,” Rafayel coaxes you. He takes the lead, sinking into the soft sand first, never releasing his hold on you. 
You do as he says, a sailor to his siren call, except you knew in your heart you would willingly follow him till the ends of the world.
Once the water was up to your waist, Rafayel exhaled. “Stay here. I’ll be back.” 
You don't have time to protest when he dives into the waves, barely kicking up a spray. Eyeing the softly luminated sea surface, you dip your fingers into the warm water, watching a blue orb float in between your loose fists. 
“Hey.”
Startling, you look up to find him grinning, lilac hair darkened with salt water; holding a bundle of what you thought was tangled hair in his grasp.
“I know you hate the taste of seaweed, but this’ll help when we… get into things.” 
He ends in an awkward note, and you wondered what happened to the once cocky, and sure Rafayel you knew. 
Unfurling his clenched fist, he hands you one single strand. “Eat this. It’ll help you breathe underwater temporarily.” 
“What is it?” you sniff at the strange vegetation. 
“Hydroweed. It gives humans the ability to breathe underwater for up to an hour.”
Putting your faith in his words, you nod. Opening your mouth, you bite into the Hydroweed. 
The briny taste was overwhelming, its tough fibers making it difficult for you to chew. But, you manage to swallow it down. 
Instantly, you felt your throat closing, the air choked out of your lungs. “Rafayel—!” 
Strong hands grab your waist, dragging you under the foamy waves. 
You gasp, about to scream at him to let you go, when you took in your first deep breath underwater.
The world suddenly came to life. Bright blue orbs floated right in front of your face, and you reached for them, in awe at how vivid they glowed now you could see them up close. 
Down in the depths, the waves became hushed murmurs in the background, filling your ears with a ringing silence. 
“Are you okay?” Rafayel’s voice shot through the floating calm like a shout, and you cringed back in shock. 
“Sorry,” he laughs, and pulls you to his side. “It’s way quieter down here than up above because sound travels differently. Strange, huh?” 
You nod, not entirely sure if you could use your voice. As if he read your thoughts, Rafayel chuckles.
“Go ahead and speak, my little conch shell. I can hear you just fine.” 
You take a deep breath. “O-okay.” Growing confident and more comfortable, you relax in his embrace. “It feels… strange. Like you said. But, at the same time, I don’t entirely hate it.”
“Mhm,” he rubs your back, smiling reassuringly and wide. “If there are other Lemurians within a few miles, they can most likely hear you scream.”
His double meaning didn’t register until you felt his palms tracing your hips, teasing down your body to give your ass a fond squeeze.
“Hey—!” 
You swat his hands away, mute with embarrassment. “I-is that why you all live so deep in the sea? For privacy?” 
Rafayel hums. It’s a little off putting how clear his voice sounds, like you were listening to him through a pair of high-grade earphones. 
“Usually, Lemurians mate deep in the trenches where the light can’t find us. It helps to keep things more private and intimate. If not, we travel to other seas uninhabited by our species. I used to know a guy who dragged his wife to the middle of the Atlantic when they were trying for a family.”
Rafayel’s focus ebbs into the distance, a tinge of sadness in his tone that appears whenever he speaks of his long lost people and home. 
You take his hands in yours and squeeze, trying to draw him back from the precipice of his ruined memories.
“We could try…” you trail off, unsure if this was the right thing to say. “...to repopulate it?” 
Like your words were a trigger, you found yourself planted right on the ocean floor, soft sand cushioning your body.
You squeak, quickly darting your eyes to his, arms instinctively wrapping around his shoulders.
Rafayel’s usual glimmering pink-blue eyes were shadowed by a darker emotion; reminding you of glinting shark teeth or a blade of moonlight slicing through choppy water. 
“Don’t say that, baby.” Was it you, or did his voice drop an octave? 
Your Lemurian lover’s low reprimand made a shudder run down your spine, his half-mast eyes causing your stomach to flip.
“You don’t know how those words make me feel… my kind used to reproduce by the dozens—I can’t wait to see you bulging with my babies.” 
Wait… babies? 
With a capital ‘S’?
His mouth lands on yours, hungry and seeking. You kiss him back with as much ardor, lost in the sensations that you almost forgot what he had said earlier.
“Raf… Rafayel—” you gasp when he starts to dig his teeth into your neck, nipping down your jaw and collarbone.
Deft hands unclip your bra, the motion fluid like he has done this a million times before. From the corner of your eye, you see every article of clothing he took off you floating right to the surface; moonlight bouncing off the fragmented surface, playing across the broad expanse of his back. 
Your head swims with fuzzy thoughts long discarded when he pushes the plush fat of your tits together, licking and nipping around your areolas, ignoring how your nipples were already circling with need. 
“Raffie…” You fist his hair, trying to push his mouth to where you need him the most. “Don’t tease me.”
He laughs at your soft whine. “I need to make sure you’re prepared, my love.”
My love. Rafayel only called you that term whenever he was in the thick of his passion; it seems like you were about to witness the cumulation of your innocent question coming true.
Strong hands held you firmly while he eased down your body, planting fleeting kisses on every inch of your skin his lips could touch. 
Down in the deep, gasps and screams weren’t sounds, but vibrations; the sounds escaping your mouth resounding around your entwined bodies.
“Fuck,” Rafayel cussed once he reached the apex of your thighs. “I can’t wait to finally taste you underwater.” 
Barely giving you time to brace yourself, the broad stroke of his tongue melted through your folds. 
Never would you have imagined you would be eaten out right on the ocean’s bed—going deeper and deeper into the neverending blue. 
Rafayel’s lips were wrapped around your nub, sucking and caressing it with his tongue exactly how you liked it. Your smaller fingers sank into his hair, the other entwining with his own above your heart; back arched to give him everything you have.
“S’good,” he murmurs, verging on the edge of slurring. “I love you.”
His name tumbles from your mouth like a primal echo, calling him right to the edge of a bottomless trench.
Rafayel wasn’t afraid; he would traverse the deep beyond for as many chances to be with you as he could.
“Put your legs around my waist,” he whispers in between sloppy kisses back up your body. 
If someone were to tell you that your sweet boyfriend was literally making love to you on the bottom of the ocean, you would tell them a Wanderer had infected their mind.
Out of the corner of your eye, you see his body emanating a faint glow. A distant memory claws past the thin membrane of your barely held together thoughts; moonlight bouncing off pink-blue scales, his unbearable body heat and a pearly sheen misting his eyes.
“Rafayel—” 
The change was imperceptible. At first, you couldn’t feel anything but the sinful sinking of his cock stretching out your cunt. 
Then, it hit you like a freight train.
His waist felt like it was expanding, pushing your thighs further apart. But, when you glanced down the line of your bodies, the length of his legs was replaced by something longer. Bigger. It distinctly had two fins attached to the end, bent at an angle to accommodate the position he was fucking you in.
“R-Rafayel—!” 
“Fuck,” he strains, lining his forehead with yours. “I-I’m scared of hurting you.” 
“N-no,” you force your thick tongue to relinquish the words. “You'll never.”
His skin grew harder under your touch, inches of pale expanses replaced by shiny scales. Minus his face, his limbs, back, chest and torso were completely covered by the armor-like toughness of multiple hardened plates. Where the scales couldn’t touch, they were bonded together by thin layers of lamella, giving his entire body an otherworldly sheen. 
Mesmerized, you titled his face towards you, marveling at the scattering of scales adorning his throat and jaw. 
“Wow,” you murmur, touching them. They weren’t as hard or sharp as you imagined; his scales had a delightful give you couldn't stop pressing down on. 
In response, Rafayel grunts. “Baby… It’s happening.”
You were about to part your mouth and ask him what was, when your eyes shot wide open. 
The place where you both were connected suddenly grew tighter, as if something was pushing against your insides. Your muscles instinctively tried to expel the foreign intrusion, tensing and tightening—it was a shot of fear unlike any other you had ever tasted. 
Panicking, you cried out, “Rafayel, stop!”
Immediately, he ceased rutting into you, breathing heavily. Anguished, pastel eyes peel clapped onto yours, a pearly sheen filming over them.
“Shit… shit, I’m so sorry…”
“What’s happening?” you blurt out, a tremble of fear in your question. “Are you… are you putting e-eggs in me?” 
“Eggs?” he sounds bewildered, and that causes you to be perplexed in turn. Breathing hard, Rafayel’s forehead thumps onto your sternum. He doesn’t refute you or confirm your suspicions. Instead, he takes in a deep, ragged breath, like he was trying to tame down a cresting emotion. “Did you actually think, for a single second, that I was going to leave eggs in you?” 
Before you can even speak, his broad shoulders start to shake. Rafayel’s quiet laughter roused your confusion and indignation; your brows furrowing together because he wouldn’t stop laughing.
“Shut up,” it was your turn to be the whiner in this relationship. “You’re mean. It’s a valid question!” 
“Oh, baby,” he wheezes. One second, he was laughing, and the next, he lapsed into a quiet seriousness, the sudden mood change giving you whiplash. “I would never hurt you like that, my love. Trust me.”
Gently grasping your hand with his, he slips it down both your bodies, right to where you two were connected. “What I meant to show you, my little conch shell, is this.” 
He brings your hand between your own legs. You thought he was going to make you touch yourself, but when you feel something hard and distinctively not flesh-like bump your hand, you flinch back.
“Ssh, don’t be afraid,” he murmurs. “Go on and take a look, my love.”
Again with my love. 
Rafayel was either struck with nerves, or he was completely enamored with you at this moment. 
You licked your lips, tasting salt water on them and cautiously stretched your fingers to feel the strange object up. It was long and girthy, like a penis, except it wasn’t.
Steeling yourself, you risk a peek.
Gone was the smooth, veiny skin of Rafayel’s cock. His human one. 
In its place, was a thick length, riddled with ridges and bumps like an octopus’ tentacle. His very human appendage was always a stunner—slender (like his physique), veiny, with a hooked tip—but the sight before you (that strange and downright alien sight) blew your expectations out of the water. 
Your gasp reverberated around the pressing silence. Rafayel was quiet, waiting for you to speak. In turn, you couldn’t keep your eyes off his new genitalia. 
“Is that…” you struggle to piece together a coherent question. “Is that all… going inside of me?” 
Rafayel grunts. “Unless you don’t want me to, sweetheart.”
You take a moment to gather your thoughts, staring past the crest of his shoulder towards the shimmering, seemingly impenetrable ceiling of a world beyond the bubble you both created.
“I do,” you finally whisper, your confession rippling around the both of you, suspending your forms in an endless wave of mutual ecstasy. “I want this. I want you.”
Rafayel doesn’t bother to waste his time replying. You brace yourself, heels digging into his hips, clinging onto him with all of your strength. 
The first breach of his otherworldly cock inside of you felt like a touch of electricity up your spine. You cried out, nails digging into his scaly shoulders.
“Relax,” he paces you through the sensations. “I need you to relax for me, my love. I can’t get in if you’re this tight.” 
You gulp in a few deep breaths with your eyes screwed shut, and eventually, your heartbeat slows down. Sluggishly cracking your lids open, you catch the gleam in his pink-blue irises; locks of his iridescent hair floating around his serene expression.
The strange sensation was back, easing past your ring of muscle. You choke on a moan, trying to swallow your fear. 
“Ssh,” Rafayel murmurs. To distract you, he leaves feathery kisses on your cheeks, jaw and then, your lips. 
If the bottom of the ocean wasn’t enough to drown you, his kiss would. 
Rafayel… you whisper into the water. 
His name was a prayer dedicated to the Sea Gods on your tongue, your body sprawled out beyond your comprehension. Every line of you was taut with tension, the achingly slow stretch of his appendage plunging deeper and deeper into your heat had your head spinning like a whirlpool was threatening to suck you in. 
“Almost,” his harsh whisper clashes with your breath. “So good for me; you’re doing so good for me, my love.”
“Rafayel,” you mewled, the sea taking your tears. Hiccuping his name, you shudder, hiding your face in the crook of his neck. 
Your fist clamped down on soft sand, your back arched, and finally—finally—you felt his hips clipping yours.
“Fuck.”
The both of you groan in unison. 
His kisses were still warm, flush on your parted lips. Rafayel shunted his hips forward, then back. Repeating the same motion. 
Again. Again. And again.
The sensation was unlike any other you had felt in this world. No cock could possibly compare to the ridges wrapped around his length, the blunt, elongated tip almost touching the deepest part of your body.
“Rafayel,” you cried in a thick voice, like your mouth was filled with cotton. “Oh, God…”
Your tits flushed to his chest, your fingers in his hair and his tongue twining with yours shook your inner world like a deep sea earthquake.
This wasn’t like your usual lovemaking sessions; everything was amplified, more sensitive and tangible.
God, was it all so tangible.
You could physically feel every scaly ridge under your fingertips. His modified cock dragging those ecstasy-inducing bumps across your walls. Even his taste was different underwater; like a briny, primal flavor which coated your tongue. 
“Y/N,” his moan more angelic than what you could handle. “I love you. I love you so, so much—” 
Rafayel choked, and you didn’t need to ask to know he was about to cum. 
The ecstasy of it all wrapped its tendrils around both your embracing bodies; a human and Lemurian entangled in a dance as old as time. 
“I love you,” you cry out, toes curling and your nails raking down his back. Rafayel grunts, and in the dim half-light of the ocean engulfing you, you swore you saw his frantic eyes shine like precious pearls.
The world was closing in, darkness seeping into the corners of your vision. 
You pushed on his shoulder, trying to get his attention; acutely aware that the ache in your lungs wasn’t because of his kisses, but of something else.
Something out of your control.
The call of the surface burned through your lungs, and you opened your mouth, about to scream for him to let you go, when it all slammed into you like a tidal wave.
Darkness exploded, splattering across your mind, and you heard his cry of your name, the sound now echoey and muggy.
There was movement. A sharp tug. What sounded like wind whistling through your ears. 
Through your snatches of consciousness, you were aware of the pushback both your bodies weathered through the wall of water; how the ocean was trying to hold you back.
As soon as the sensation appeared, it was shattered by a golden burst of fresh oxygen.
Gulping in mouthfuls of air, you yelled out in fright, blindly grappling across the writhing dark mess of endless ocean surrounding you. 
Rafayel! Rafayel!
You felt strong arms wrap around you, holding you in his embrace like how a father would cradle his child.
Close your eyes, you thought you heard him murmur in your ear. And don’t open them until I tell you it’s safe to.
Arms clamped around his shoulders and legs wrapped around his waist, your intrinsic fear of the ocean made you trust his word. 
Gently now, you were bobbing across the water, the cool currents rushing across your bare skin. It felt like gelatinous cold drafts constantly hitting every body part. Staying true to his promise, you kept your eyes shut until you felt rough sand on your back; the waves receding from your body to lap at your toes.
Gasping, you peel your eyes open, lid by lid.
The alcove where he took you tonight was back in front of you. 
Rolling onto your front, you tried to stand, but only succeeded in stumbling back onto the sand; losing your sense of balance from countless minutes spent suspended in the ocean's mass.
“Hey, hey. Easy there.”
Rafayel was still in his Lemurian form, and this time, under the dim, flickering lights of the bay’s lanterns, you were stunned into an awe-inspiring disquiet.
The flickering warmth casted shadows over his iridescent scales, those once tough and gray plates under the ocean’s darkness glowing from the inside out with a pink-blue flame.
Half of his tail was still submerged in the water, and you couldn’t help but drag your gaze across the stunning length.
Easily a few feet long, you couldn’t even begin to wrap your head around the mental image of how majestic his entire Lemurian form would look underwater. It was just too bad the Hydroweed’s effects were over before you could even get to the good part.
Your thighs were chafing, drawing attention to your gapingly empty cunt. 
Pulling yourself to your knees, you came chest to chest with him. 
Rafayel’s saltwater soaked fingers grasped your cheeks, titling it up to inspect you. 
Trickles of water seeped down his face, darkening the sand with droplets of wetness.
“I’m sorry,” he whispered, fraught and remorseful. “I lost track of time. I could’ve seriously injured you.”
“It’s okay.” The both of you flinched back from how hoarse your voice sounded. Clearing your throat, you struggled to put your mushy thoughts into words. “I… enjoyed it.”
Rafayel dropped his hands, his breathing growing ragged. “I should get back to normal—”
“No!” 
You stunned him with your vehemence, scrambling to grip his shoulders, clapping your crazed eyes onto his widened ones.
You’re acting like a mad woman. 
But, he didn’t say that to you. Rafayel grasped your hands, drawing them to his chest, pouring every drop of attention onto you. 
“I want to… try it… here.” 
You pieced together your incoherent request, and a part of you wondered—dreaded—if you had already lost your mind from the lack of oxygen and crushing deep sea pressure. 
Rafayel stared at you for a moment, unspeaking.
Then, he gently dragged you closer. Before you could even squeak, he had you straddling his waist. 
This time, it was your turn to peer down at him, curtains of your wet hair framing your face.
“Take me, then,” his voice was equally as hoarse as yours, though you suspected it wasn’t from ingesting enough saltwater to fill up your lungs. Trembling fingers touched your face, smoothing across your cheeks. “I’m all yours. I’ve been bound to you since the very beginning. You can take me, I won’t fight back. I told you I wouldn’t that night, don’t you remember? I’m keeping my word now.”
Something about the longing in his tone, how those pink-blue eyes yearned to swim in your soul, brought a lump to your throat. 
“Rafayel…”
Strong hands helped to guide your hips over his cock, easing you down with quiet praises and encouragement.
So good for me, baby. Look at you. Taking me so well. Wish I could paint this moment—you look so pretty. All for me. My love. My love. 
“R-Rafayel!” Thin red lines bloomed on his chest from your nails, your eyes rolling back into your head.
Without the sea’s buoyancy to support you, gravity took over, easing you down his bulbous cock.
Rafayel’s thumb circles your clit, rubbing it gently, soothingly, to get you wetter.
Your body felt like it was about to split cleanly into two—he was much too big for you. 
“C-can’t!” you whisper-cried. “I can’t take all of you—ngh.”
His mouth found your nipples, licking and sucking along the fleshy nubs until they were coated with his spit and tightening obscenely; an erotic outline lit by the bay's dim lantern lights.
“You can,” he mumbled in between your breasts. “I know you can.”
The rough strip of his tongue slid from your sternum towards your neck, pausing right at your pulse point. Sharp bites bloomed on your neck from his teeth, and you shiver from the throbbing pain going straight to your clit. 
That strange, heightening sensation was back. You felt much too sensitive, like a lightning rod trembling from an impending electrical storm.
One touch could’ve made you explode.
Rafayel brought your lips to his, tangling his tongue down your throat; stoppering your cries. 
Warm, smooth, distinctively human palms caressed your hips and thighs. 
Almost in, baby, he whispers in between kisses. I can feel every inch of you. 
You flit your eyes to where both your bodies meet, in mute shock from how deep he already was in you.
“You like it, baby?” he breathes warmly on your jaw. “Like watching yourself sit on my cock?” 
Fuck. Stop teasing me, you want to whine. But, the words won’t slip past your clenched teeth. 
His name bounces across the soft sand, the wind picking up and making you shiver. 
The warm glow of the lanterns spill across his sharp cheekbones, planes of his jaw. You’ve never seen someone look this beautiful under a hazy night sky before.
“Tell me if I’m hurting you,” you feel him murmur against your lips. “Say the word, baby. We’ll stop.”
You’re panting now, trying hard not to break your progress and having to start over. Rafayel was about halfway inside, and you forced your body to push and receive. 
Guh, you gasp, tossing your head back. 
“Love seeing you stretch yourself out on my cock, baby,” Rafayel mutters hoarsely—passionately. 
The implicit meaning in his words is clear: I love how you give yourself so willingly to me.
For Rafayel, you would do this ten times over until your body memorizes him. Willing your cunt to make a home for his monster cock even if it would break your spine.
“Almost,” he reassures in a low groan. “You feel s’good baby.”
He’s sweating as well, bullets of exertion not to break his composure and fuck into you mingling with the last of the seawater droplets rolling down his temples.
Rafayel, Rafayel, you whimper his name over and over. Oh God…
Something bubbles inside of you, thick and hot. You think you’re about to spill over, thighs shaking from the effort of holding yourself up. 
Your lover groans, low and lusty, his eyes trapped right in between your legs. “You’re so wet—look. Your little pussy loves me, baby.”
You glance to where he’s telling you to look, and nearly pass out from the embarrassment. 
Thick, pearly droplets are oozing down his merman length, and you would’ve thought it was from him had you not felt your walls start to twitch—more wetness gushing and trickling down to stain his pelvis.
The added lubrication made it easy enough for you to bottom out on his cock, and both your mutual cries of ecstasy reverberated into the dark night.
Shit, shit. Too big. You’re too big for me.
“You can take it,” he mouths your earlobe, kissing down your cheek. “Doing so well for me.”
Your breathing trembles, like a question hanging in thin air. Can you fuck me now? 
Rafayel scoffs and bumps his nose with yours gently. “Always making me do the hard work. You really are my spoiled, pretty princess, aren’t you? Or…” his voice drops, the heat in his eyes almost scorching you. “Do you want to be my good girl?”
You gasp: I do. I want to be your good girl.
He hisses when you start to shift your hips, the motion making your clit catch on his pelvis. You mewl, leaning forward to repeat the same motion; trying to chase after that spark of pleasure over and over again.
Those big, smooth palms cradle your face, pushing your hair back.
Rafayel’s jaw is tense, like he’s biting down on some inner demon you can’t see. 
That’s it. That’s my good girl. 
Your nails leave white crescent moons on his pale shoulders as you ride him, every bump and ridge of his cock brushing your sweet spot. He was so deep in you, almost plunging right past your cervix. 
“Fuck,” he curses. “You’re gonna kill me, baby.”
An arm sweeps you right to his chest, your cheek pressed atop his heartbeat. Rafayel thrusts his hips up, meeting your sensual grinding.
Spit pools in the back of your throat, your eyes squeezed shut as you let your Lemurian lover have his way with you. You part your mouth, mellifluous moans touching the air and turning it golden to his reddened ears.
I love you. His whispers against your throat, the sting of his teeth soothed by the sweetness of his praise and adoration. I love you so much, my good girl.
“You fuck me so good,” the words tumble from your split mouth, recklessly thoughtful. “No one can fuck me like you.”
Yeah, he pants, mouthing your pulse point. Cream on this cock, baby. It’s all yours. His hands span across your lower back, traversing down to grip your ass and spreading you wider for him.
Give me everything you’ve got, Princess. 
His cock plunges so deep inside of you, and you were sure that if he came right now, he might’ve knocked you up in one try. 
All yours. Rafayel was all yours. 
You lean up, arms resting on either side of his head as the sand bites into your skin. 
Rafayel thinks he might’ve died and gone to heaven. He watches, mesmerized, as your tits sway right in front of his face. You’re fucking him now, meeting each fluid thrust he had to give; bouncing on his lap like you were riding out a desperate heat.
His thighs tense, and he feels your pussy clench down on him. 
Fuck, you stutter, and so do your hips. I’m close. 
He squeezes your ass, smacks it with both palms.
Your breathing catches, and you ride him even harder. Faster.
“Fuck,” those pretty eyes were hooded, latched on your bouncing tits and stiff nipples. “Look so good fucking me—you love using me, don’t you, Master?” 
You gasp, and Rafayel feels your composure slip when you squeeze down on him. He almost cums right there and then. But, he fights it off, needing to see you lose control first.
The sight of your stickiness frothing at the base of his cock nearly makes him white out in pleasure, getting messier with every stroke of his non-human cock. 
He’s never had a human before in his Lemurian form, but it’s something straight out of a wild, wet dream.
Your skin was so, so soft in comparison to his hard scales that he’s almost afraid of hurting you with them.
But, you prove you’re made of tougher stuff when you lean back, bracing both hands on the girth of his tail. 
Showing off your puffy pussy and glistening hole taking every inch of him like it was made for this and only for this purpose.
He feels himself drowning in you. No one has ever taken him this deep. His mouth falls open, a low grunt touching your hot ears. Good girl… good fucking girl. His praises make you warm all over. You would do anything and everything to earn his devotion. But, Rafayel doesn’t make you do it—he gives it to you freely. One large hand smoothed over your belly, your tits, pinching your nipples and smirking inwardly when you gasp and groan. 
Breathy whimpers resound, his thumb on your clit rubbing out full body shudders. The sky above spins, like he’s being sucked into and about to be spat out of a whirlpool.
His eyes bounce from the softness of your belly, your tits jiggling, and then back down to your pretty pussy taking all of him in.
“Like what you see?” 
Rafayel flits his gaze back up. Your eyes were two pools of smoldering heat, about to burn him alive.
You grab his wandering hand, pressing it right over your stomach. “I can feel you here.” He twitches, and you gasp. “So, so deep.”
Sloppy sounds of your bodies meeting; you were so, so wet and perfect. Your pussy was gushing, fighting between squeezing him out or sucking him in. 
I’m gonna cum, baby, he grunts. The vein in his neck tightens, and your whimper almost sets him off.
Gonna cum so deep inside of you. Make you so round and perfect with my babies. You’re my Queen, aren’t you? My love. I’ll love you until the seas dry up. You’re mine forever. 
It’s that tinge of possessiveness which does you under. You were putty to his deep, gravelly voice; those words of unending devotion and sin.
His thick, dark lashes flutter, those pretty eyes rolling back into his head.
Fuck, baby. He grabs onto your hips, looking for something to steady him. “I need you… I’m gonna cum,” he whines, and it’s pathetic really—how much you’ve affected him.
If he was a lesser man, Rafayel might’ve called you his weakness. But, you were more than that.
You were the reason he woke up in the mornings. The reason he relentlessly pursued the passages of time and space to find you; you were the muse to his madness. 
“Do it for me, baby,” you pant, and fall back into his arms. Chest to chest, lips to lips, every breath you took was exhaled by his own. “Cum for me.”
Make me yours forever, Rafayel.
The world goes white, and your pussy quivers around him, an ending opera note suspended in mid-air.
It comes crashing down, slo-mo turned to a normal pace when time rushes back to engulf your sluggish shore.
His cum fills you up, thicker and running hotter than a human’s. It felt strange; pulsating inside of you, glob after glob. Your pussy shudders and breaks, physical and emotional walls all torn down for him; voice hoarse and edged with mania. Rafayel, Rafayel, Rafayel…
You mumble his name like a prayer while he drags your lips to his, kissing you like an oath.
He feels you shudder around him, growing weaker like a kitten. It would be so easy for him to pierce your neck with his teeth, cut through your jugular with his scales. 
But, Rafayel tames his primal, oceanic urge to destroy, reining it back in favor of nosing your hair.
“Felt so good,” he mumbles tiredly. “Are you okay, my little conch shell?”
You hum, shift your hips. The bulbous head of his cock brushes the opening of your cervix. “I can’t believe I took you so deep.” You drift off and in a few minutes, feel him go from soft to half-hard in you again. 
“Are you still turned on, baby?” you ask innocently, voice soft and frayed with exhaustion. Rafayel swivels his face away, trying to hide his red ears.
“N-no.”
You huff a laugh, using all the strength in your jelly-like limbs to sit up. Something catches your attention, and in the corner of your eye, you pick up the dark strands, fisting it close to your mouth.
Rafayel watches, unsure what you’re intending to do. He sits up, squints, and almost gasps.
That’s enough Hydroweed for you to last a night under the ocean. 
He’s about to stop you, when you ingest it all in one go.
The second you convulse, he pushes you back into the ocean, your gasp of relief second to only his bruising kiss completely devouring your mouth. 
Your legs wrap around his waist, and your back meets the ocean floor again. This time, you take the lead, rolling him off to straddle his waist again. 
Rafayel glances at you, gorgeous pastel eyes hooded. 
He notices how comfortable you’re getting underwater; how easy it is for you to scoot down his torso, your playful smirk making his cock and heartstrings throb. 
“Baby—” he mumbles, only to be cut off by the sight of you kissing his bulbous tip.
Rafayel isn’t a believer of god per say (coming from his own experience as a retired sea deity), but at the sight of your pretty lips skimming his merman tip, he thinks he could give religion another shot. 
What’re you doing? His whisper carries across the currents.
Ssh, you hush him, rimming the tip of your tongue around his flushed head. You don’t miss how his tail twitches, cock now painfully at full mast. 
Isn’t it obvious? You mumble, kissing the tip reverently. I want to taste my Lemurian's pretty cock.
He seizes, back arching, putty in your hands when you take him down as deep as your little throat allows. 
What else you couldn’t fit, you used your hands to jack up and down.
Soft hisses slip past his clenched teeth. “You’re driving me crazy, baby.”
Mhm, you slur, flickering your hazy, fucked out gaze to his flushed face. Tastes so good, you whisper, and Rafayel was glad the ocean didn’t show the line of drool that usually trickles down your jaw; your fucked out expression which would make his control snap instantly. 
You would need to consume at least three more mouthfuls of Hydroweed before he was fully done with you. 
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Luckily, Thomas’ yacht came with some fluffy towels.
Rafayel had wrapped you in one while he laid the other under your back; content to curl his tail around you, still in his Lemurian form. The honeywood deck was warm to the touch, the balmy evening offering comfort and respite from hours underneath the cold, dark ocean. 
“So…” he quips, not one for stewing in silence. “Questions? Thoughts? Comments?” 
You fight back a smile. 
“Was there really eggs put up inside of me? Swore I felt a lot of round and hard things sloshing inside.”
“That… would be my tip.” Rafayel flicks your nose when you scoff. “On a scale of one to ten, how freaked out would you be if I said I did actually put some eggs up in your body and it had to be fertilized so the rest would start falling out of you like gelatinous goo until the only one takes?” 
You blink. “Pretty freaked out, if I’m being honest.”
“So… a nine?” 
“More like—” you lifted your hand and made a so-so motion. “—a six, at best. I’m kinda used to your bullshit by now, babe.” 
“Hey!” Rafayel tugs on the ends of your hair, making you laugh. Growing serious now, he murmurs, “So, you’re absolutely fine with being knocked up with a half-Lemurian kid?” 
“Depends,” you mumble mildly. “Am I the first one you’re doing this with?”
Barely missing a beat, he nodded. “The only one. Never had time to sleep around. Always busy running a kingdom. Blah-blah. Typical God of the Sea stuff. No biggie.”
“Aw,” you coo, “I’m so honored you waited for me.” 
You expected him to scoff or roll his eyes, not lapse into a serious quietness. Rafayel’s silence stretched on, and you perched your jaw on his shoulder.
“Hey. Penny for your thoughts?” 
“Hmm.” Rafayel tugs you closer, grabbing your hand and pressing it to his cheek. His lips are inches apart from yours, warm breath touching your parted mouth. You taste him on your tongue, invigorating yet comforting.
A well-worn sign of home. 
“Just that I would do it all over again. Wait for you, I mean. Even if it takes a long, long time.”
A few centimeters and 800 years stand between the two of you. 
But, for tonight, you breach the distance and kiss him, grateful that you had been given this cherished memory together with Rafayel.
— rbs and feedback are appreciated !!
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©️ all works belong to lalunanymph. do not copy, repost or translate my work across other platforms.
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illyrianbitch · 14 days ago
Text
Are We Still Friends? — Part Four
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Pairing: Reader x Azriel
Summary: You navigate the aftermath of your confrontation. Azriel takes his first steps toward making things right.
Warnings: brief mentions of injury, bruises, and physical fighting. nyx being a cute baby. some fun introspection. reader is tired and overwhelmed. az is honest and open (hallelujah)
Word Count: 7k+
Part Three | Series Masterlist | Part Five
✹ ✶ 𖧷 ✶✹ 
Rhys was trying to be serious. 
He truly, truly was. 
From behind his polished desk, he looked every inch the High Lord—back straight, jaw tight, fingers drumming against the wood. His mouth opened, closed, then opened again, as though he couldn’t decide where to start.
You shifted in your seat, your body aching in strange places from the fight. The cut on your cheek throbbed and the bruising across your knuckles made every twitch of your fingers tender. But none of it compared to the strain in your cheeks—from holding back a laugh.
Feyre was perched on the arm of a chair beside you, Nyx cradled in her arms, his tiny fingers gripping the fabric of her flowy blouse. She wasn’t looking at you—refusing to, actually. Her gaze was locked firmly on her son, her lips pressed together in a trembling line, but you could see the corners twitching with suppressed amusement. You kept your gaze on her, waiting until the burn of your stare would render too hot for her to ignore. 
It didn’t take long.
Feyre’s resolve crumbled as soon as her eyes met yours. She let out a laugh—sharp and bright and loud in the too-quiet room.
Rhys’s head snapped up. “Feyre, please. Not you too.”
Not you too. Morrigan had found the situation just as amusing. 
Her laughter only grew, and Nyx joined in, making incomprehensible happy gurgles in response to his mother’s amusement. 
“I’m sorry,” she said, though she didn’t sound sorry at all. 
She passed Nyx to your open, offering arms, and crossed the room, wrapping her arms around Rhys’s neck. Her cheek brushed against his as she murmured—loud enough for you to hear, “You have to admit it’s funny.”
Rhys groaned, glancing at you. He opened his mouth, probably to protest, but you cut in, your voice laced with mock sternness as you bit back a smile. “Yeah, Rhys. You have to.”
“I don’t have to do anything,” he replied, fixing you with a look. “It is not funny.”
You gasped dramatically, adjusting Nyx in your lap and covering his tiny,pointed ears. “Don’t teach your son it’s okay to lie.”
Another groan. A hand dragged down his face, but his lips twitched as though fighting a losing battle. Finally, with a resigned shake of his head, he muttered, “Alright. Fine. It’s funny. But—
His words faltered. 
“I am sorry,” you offered, filling the silence. You raised your free hand solemnly. “I lost my cool. That’s my bad. But in my defense, she really had it coming.”
Rhys casted a look at Feyre, who was leaning against the desk now, a smile still tugging at her lips. He shook his head again, sighing. “Maybe so,” he conceded, “But I can’t have our court’s emissary beating one of our citizens in broad daylight. It’s not a great look.”
“It wasn’t broad daylight,” you corrected, your attention shifting to Nyx as you untangled your hair from his iron grip, grimacing as the motion pulled at your scalp. “The sun was setting by the time we were done.”
Feyre let out another laugh, the sound powerful enough to pull a snort from her. 
“And,” you added, “It was, at most, semi-private.”
“Unbelievable,” Rhys muttered, though there was no real heat in it.
Nyx babbled again, his chubby hand reaching for your hair once more. 
“Okay, alright,” you said, straightening in your chair. The ache in your body flared as you moved, but you ignored it, your focus on Rhys. “You’re right, Rhys. I have a title and an image to uphold. I should’ve acted better. Tell me how to fix it, and I will.”
Rhys’s gaze lingered on you, as if the longer he stared at you, the easier words would come. Then he leaned back in his chair, his attention flicking to Feyre. They were in each other’s minds, you realized, talking in that way only they could. You could pick up the signs now, even subtle—a faint twitch of her lips, the softening in his gaze, even the rhythm of their blinks syncing up. 
Finally, Rhys looked back at you, then down at Nyx, who was still babbling in your lap. When his gaze returned to yours, there was a thread of warmth beneath his voice. “You’re the most, objectively, rational of us all. If you say there was reasoning, then I believe you.”
You gave him a grateful smile.
“We just have to prepare for some damage control,” Feyre said. “It’s not exactly comforting for our citizens to see three of their highest-ranking officials fighting in the streets.”
“Three?” You frowned. “What—”
You were cut off as the door creaked open. All three of you turned as Mor stepped in, a large grin on her red painted lips. She was holding something small in her hand, and when she held it up, the light caught on the all-too-familiar jewelry.
“Don’t forget. She also found these,” Mor sang as she entered fully. She tossed two bracelets into the air, catching both effortlessly before holding them up again for emphasis. “So, I think that’s enough for a pardon.”
Rhys stood, crossing the room in a few long strides as Feyre followed. He took one of the bracelets from Mor, inspecting it carefully.
“What did you find?”
“What Y/n heard was right,” Mor said, rolling the other bracelet between her fingers. “It’s a simple listening charm. Very basic.”
Rhysand hummed. “And how does it work exactly?”
“It’s an anchored spell.”
“What does that mean?” Feyre asked, frowning. “An anchor?” 
“It means the spell needs an anchor to function—a tether to keep it active and contained. Like a balloon tied to a string.” Rhys explained, his tone turning clinical. “It’s simple magic. The charm was designed to spy on whoever it was bound to.”
“And it was bound to who? Az?”
”Actually,” Mor said. She nodded towards you. “It was bound to Y/n.”
You weren’t paying full attention, not as you played a game of tug-of-war with Nyx and a strand of your hair. When the words finally hit you, you blinked, glancing between Mor and the bracelet in her hand. “What? On me?”
Mor nodded once more as Rhysand said, “Interesting.” 
”And this was in Azriels room?” Feyre asked, looking over at you. 
“One of them,” you confirmed. “The other Selene was wearing.”
Feyre’s gaze flicked to the cut across your cheek. “So she put it in Azriel’s room, but bound it to you?”
“No one tends to go into Az’s room.” Rhys frowned. “So she was only interested in conversations you were a part of.”
Of course. A bitter laugh bubbled up, but you clenched your jaw, forcing it down. You reminded yourself of what you’d seen earlier— the insecurity, rather than the malice you’d anticipated. Still, a certain annoyance lingered. Was her relationship with Azriel so fragile that she couldn’t talk to him? Were you so unapproachable that she couldn’t come to you? Instead, she planted a charm. To spy. 
”Can I see it?” You asked. 
Mor stepped forward, holding it out, and Nyx reached for it first, his tiny fingers desperately grasping at the shiny surface.
“This isn’t for you, buddy,” Mor cooed, crouching slightly. “This is Aunt Y/n’s special bracelet from her secret admirer.”
You shot her a flat look. “Secret admirer, my ass.”
Mor grinned, but her gaze flicked over you briefly, her teasing dimmed by something else—concern, maybe. Feyre stepped forward, lifting Nyx from your lap as you examined the bracelet.
“So what do we do with it now?” You glanced up at Mor.
“I can pay Helion a visit. Break the charm.” 
“Alright,” Rhys said, the word accompanied by a considering hum. “But first, let me talk to Selene and Runa—Runa was the other one, right?”
Hearing her name sent a wave of irritation coursing through you. Your grip on the bracelet tightened instinctively as you nodded, the cool metal digging into your palm. You held it out for Mor to take, watching as she then took the second one back from Rhys. He studied you for a moment, his gaze drifting to your clenched fists.
“You’re just too great,” He said with a small grin. It was very father-like in its presentation, like he was trying to cheer up a sad child. “It’s intimidating.”
You rolled your eyes, but his attempt worked— the easy cadence chipping away at the tension in your shoulders, managing to coax a reluctant smile to your lips. “So I’ve been told.”
Your attention shifted to Feyre as she rocked Nyx gently in her arms. His soft breaths had already settled into the rhythm of sleep, and something in you softened at the sight. Your smile deepened, this time warmer, more genuine. Feyre caught your gaze, then glanced at her mate.
“It’s his bedtime,” she murmured, her attention returning to you. “And maybe you could use some rest too.”
You opened your mouth to argue, but Mor cut you off, her hand already brushing against your arm. “Let’s get you cleaned up,” she said softly, though there was no room for argument in her tone.
“I’m fine,” you tried to insist, but she gave you a look, leading you out of Rhysand’s office. You gave both him and Feyre a quick goodbye. 
“Walk or winnow?” Mor asked once you were in the hall, tilting her head.
You thought it over for a brief moment. “Winnow,” you replied.
She nodded in agreement, the corners of her lips curving upwards. “Probably for the best,” she said, “Wouldn’t want you to find another citizen to fight on the way home.”
You moved to swat at her arm in mock indignation, but she was already gone, her laughter echoing faintly as she winnowed away. 
✹ ✶ 𖧷 ✶✹ 
Mor was humming a small tune as she led you to your bedroom. She had a few more items in her hand since the last time you saw her, only a few moments prior.
“Sit,” she instructed, nodding towards your bed. Without waiting for a response, she pulled your chair from the small desk, its legs scraping sharply against the floor. Usually, you might've winced at the sound, but tonight it barely registered. You were too tired, too lost in your own thoughts to be fully aware of your surroundings. 
You lowered yourself onto the edge of your bed, hands folded in your lap, watching as Mor set her haul on your bedside table: a first-aid healers kit and a small jar with a golden lid, the faint scent of herbs already wafting from it.
“Whats that?” you asked, motioning towards it as Mor sat down.
“I stopped by Majda’s earlier,” Mor replied, grabbing the jar and offering it to you. 
You gingerly took it, running your fingers along the small glass. A healing balm, you gathered from the label, crafted and spelled to sooth the tenderness of injuries.  “You didn’t have to do that.”
“Of course I did,” she replied, fixing you with a look. She held her hand out in a silent request, and you granted it, placing the jar back in her soft palm.  “I ran into Adrin while I was there, too.”
“Oh?”
“Mhm. I think he has a crush.” 
Your brows furrowed. “On you?”
“No,” Mor laughed. “On you.” She twisted the lid off, the scent growing stronger, fresher. “This was practically free when I mentioned your name. He says hello, by the way.”
You rolled your eyes at the tone of her voice, at the small quirk in her lip.  “How generous of him.”
Adrin was one of Madja’s recent apprentices, a male from the Dawn Court. Over the past year, you’d developed a sort of friendship with him—inevitable, given how often you stopped by Madja’s for elixirs, balms, or to request healing for one of your family members. Adrin was sweet in a way that stood out, especially for someone of his stature and wealth. Humble, easy to talk to. You’d always enjoyed your small conversations with him, none of which had ever felt particularly flirtatious. 
But Mor liked to do this—tease you about romantic prospects where there were none.
“He seemed very sad to hear you were hurt,” she teased, dipping her fingers into the balm. “Here. Give me your hands.”
Reluctantly, you stretched out your hands, knuckles bruised and raw. She took them, her touch gentle as she worked the balm into your skin. It stung at first, then cooled, easing the ache. 
“He’s cute,” Mor said lightly, noting your silence.  “You should consider it.”
“Mhm,” you replied, not really listening. “Maybe.”
Mor glanced up at you, her hands pausing briefly before she resumed. “What are you thinking about?”
You shrugged and stared down at your hands, tracing the patterns of Mor’s thumbs as she smoothed over the worst of the bruising. “I don’t know. The whole thing, I guess.”
“I can’t believe you didn’t just beat them both.”
A small laugh slipped from you, unexpected. You were quite proud of how diplomatic you’d managed to be given the circumstances— though, you were sure diplomatic wasn’t the word Runa would use.
“I think,” you began, “I just figured it wasn’t worth it. At least with Selene, it wasn’t personal. There’s nothing I could’ve said to her that’d be worse than what I imagine she already tells herself. Runa just… said the wrong thing at the wrong time.”
Mor nodded with an amused smile, tilting your chin up with a finger so she could dab the balm along your jaw. On a hit you hadn’t even noticed until it started throbbing an hour later.
“Still. A listening charm is kind of insane,” she said. Her tone was measured, but you caught the edge of anger beneath it. “Can you imagine what else she could’ve heard?”
Your chest tightened. You nodded. Although not to the extent you might usually have, you had thought about it—the implications of the bracelet, the act Selene had committed, the idea Runa had planted. It was almost laughable. Your court was condemned for its supposed cruelty, led by a High Lord as infamous as Rhysand, yet citizens still felt emboldened enough to pull stunts like this. In any other court, Selene and Runa would’ve faced very different—more permanent—consequences.
“I don’t want to think about it too much,” you replied after a moment. “I’ll just get angry, and I’m kind of over that. It’s exhausting.”
“You’re better than me,” Mor muttered.
“Not really. I’m just tired.” You said simply. “Selene did a bad thing. She’s lucky it didn’t cause a serious disaster. I don’t feel the need to play the Mother’s role. Rhys will deal with her.”
Mor sat back, a faint grin tugging at her lips. “And in the meantime, I get pretty jewelry.”
You raised a brow. 
“What?” Her grin widened. “Like we told Rhys, it’s only a basic listening spell. If I’m in possession of both charms, and I’m not talking to you, then no one’s hearing anything.”
“And if you lose one?”
She raised an eyebrow, slowly twisting the cap back onto the jar. “I won’t,” she replied simply. And you knew that was the end of the conversation. Mor guided your head to the side, leaning in to inspect the cut across your cheek.
“That bitch got you good, though,” Mor muttered. She touched it gently, and you grimaced. “All this from that bracelet?”
“It was chunky,” you replied dryly. “And I think Runa split it open much further.”
Mor scowled. “If I see her, she's as good as d—”
“Mor.”
She sighed dramatically. “At least tell me you got her good.”
You gave her a look and her grin widened. “Gods, I love you,” she said, shaking her head. “You might be the most terrifying one of us all when you’re angry.”
A smile tugged at your lips, the faint pull of it brushing against the ache in your cheek. The sound of a laugh started to rise in your chest when a low voice cut through the moment.
“I would agree.”
You jumped, and your head snapped toward the doorway— where Azriel now stood. 
Your chest tightened at the sight of him, the moment’s levity collapsing under his presence. Instinctively, your eyes ran over him, taking in every detail. He looked tense, wings drawn in tight to his back, his posture stiff. Shadows hung close to him, unnervingly still. Disheveled, too—his hair was a mess and faint bruises bloomed along his face. His hands were hidden by his shadows, but you’d bet they bore the same marks as yours. Three officials, Feyre had said. You now knew the second. 
He cleared his throat. “I’m sorry to interrupt.”
Mor snickered beside you, drawing your attention just as her brows lifted in amusement. She turned away from him and faced you instead. “You hear that, Y/n? He’s sorry.”
You raised your own brows, gaze flicking back to him. “So those words do exist in your vocabulary.”
The bite didn’t feel as satisfying as it should have. It felt hollow, old. Azriel’s jaw tightened, his chest rising as he drew in a measured breath. After a moment, he stepped forward. His gaze lingered on you for another moment before he turned to Mor.
“May we have a moment alone?”
Mor’s eyes narrowed, the sharpness in her gaze dragging over him like a knife. She didn’t answer right away, looking back to you instead, searching your face for permission. Despite yourself, you gave her a small nod.
Her displeasure showed in the faint widening of her eyes, but she stood anyway, brushing her hand against yours in passing. Her touch was soft, careful not to press too hard against the bruises. “Love you,” she murmured. “Let me know if you need anything else tonight.”
You gave her a small smile, nodding again as she walked past Azriel. His shadows recoiled from her, drawing a dark outline along his arm. She casted one last glare over her shoulder.
“Idiot,” she muttered, loud enough for both of you to hear. Then she was gone.
The silence she left behind felt suffocating, a heavy thing that settled over the room. You avoided Azriel’s gaze, focusing instead on the healer’s kit sitting on the bedside table. You reached for it, but Azriel held up a hand to stop you.
“I can do it myself,” you said. 
“I know,” Az replied softly. “But let me. Please.”
You hesitated. He looked troubled, guilt heavy in his expression, but you couldn’t bring yourself to care. The conversation had been inevitable, long overdue. Might as well get it over with while he tended to the cut on your cheek.
Besides, you were too exhausted to care. 
“Fine.”
Azriel gave you a small, unsure smile—grateful, almost. He disappeared to the bathroom, and when he returned, he sat with a wet rag in hand.
You tried to hold on to your anger, to avoid his eyes, but your resolve began to falter the moment his shadows began to twist around your arms. They moved languidly, curling up your wrists and brushing your fingers as you played with your hands in your lap. You focused on them instead of him— on their quiet presence, the personality in them that so few ever noticed. You’d missed the way they felt like him.
Azriel began unpacking the kit—clean cloths, antiseptic. The smell made your nose scrunch. You took in the bruising on his face—on his cheek, a split near his eyebrow, even on his lip. Strange, strategically unplaced.
“What happened to you?” you asked before you could stop yourself.
“Cassian happened.”
And there it was— the third official. You wanted to probe for more details, were even tempted to make a joke out of his current appearance, but your irritation held you back. You stayed silent as he cleaned the wound, as he dried it. When he soaked another cloth with antiseptic, he looked at you.
“I owe you a big, proper apology.” 
You didn’t look at him, even as his words pulled at you. “Yeah.”
He paused— like he was thinking, like he was ashamed— and took a deep breath before he said, “Many, actually.”
You didn’t respond. You just nodded, watching him from the corner of your eye. When the cloth touched your cheek, you winced. He grimaced, eyebrows furrowing in apology.
“Sorry,” he murmured. 
Another pause. 
“You were right,” he said, his focus staying on your cheek. “And I should have listened to you.”
This time, the pull of his voice was strong enough to draw your attention. As he leaned closer to begin cleaning the cut, you studied his face—the sharp line of his jaw, the crease in his brow as he worked with precision. 
“I’m always right,” you muttered, and the words had more mirth than you’d expected. You supposed that was natural with Azriel, an instinct of sorts. Even when you were unhappy with him. “You’re going to have to be specific.”
Something softened in his expression—just for a second. But you saw it. You could’ve sworn you saw the faintest hint of a smile tug at his lips, heard a soft breath of amusement. His molten eyes met yours briefly.
“You were right about Selene.”
Your chest tightened. You didn’t know why, but his gaze burned. You couldn’t hold it for long and looked back down at your hands, letting the shadows weave between your fingers. You wondered what information Az knew— wondered who told him. If it was Mor who had talked to Cassian, if it was Cassian who then, in turn, had given Azriel the whole story. Had they fought beforehand? What for?
“I broke up with her,” Azriel added. “When I heard about what happened.”
You looked up, but Az’s gaze was no longer on you. “You did?”
He nodded. You tracked the bob in his throat as he swallowed. 
“There’s no coming back from what she did.”
Azriel set the cloth aside, carefully wiping away the excess antiseptic. He seemed unnervingly calm for the situation—for the invasion of privacy from someone he’d been intimate with. You’d expected something more. Anger like you’d seen with Eris, confrontation like he’d shown Lucien. But, instead, he was gentle. Maybe it should’ve bothered you, that he seemed so unphased at your current state. It didn’t. If anything, you were grateful. You would’ve been too tired to deal with anything else. 
You studied him closely. This side of him—tender, unguarded—wasn’t a side he let many see.
Your thoughts wandered back to Selene. It made sense, in a pathetic, strange way, why she might have done what she did. If she’d seen this side of him, this kindness, this care... how could she not have wanted to protect it? How could she not have gone to extremes to keep it?
You thought about it for a moment. Came to the realization that the love Azriel offered was probably worthy of madness.
“Because she spied on you?” 
It was a stupid question. But the urge to ask had persisted, so you voiced it anyway. Azriel stilled, his hand pausing mid-motion. Slowly, he turned to look at you.
“No,” he said, his voice softer. “Because she hurt you.”
His words landed with a force that sent your thoughts spiraling.
“Although,” Azriel added quickly, “The spying was definitely a dealbreaker.”
He was making a joke, you realized. Or a small attempt at one. And somehow, it settled something restless in your chest.
“She didn’t mean to,” you heard yourself say before you could stop it. 
The moment the words left your mouth, you cursed yourself. What the hell were you doing? You had no obligation. No reason. It was counterproductive, if anything. Rhys was bringing her in. You had every right to trash her, right here, to Azriel himself. To tell him over and over that you told him so.
But you didn’t. Maybe it was because she’d mattered to him—enough for him to trust her despite the flaws that had undone her. Even if that truth made your chest ache, you wanted him to make his decision with all the facts.
Your care for Azriel wasn’t something led by your pride.
“Selene didn’t mean to hurt me,” you said again, more certain this time. “It was an accident.”
His eyes softened as he observed you. You swallowed and shrugged. “Runa was the one who actually did.”
“It doesn’t matter,” Azriel said. “You were in that situation because of Selene.”
A beat.
“Because of me.”
The air between you thickened. You tried to focus on anything else, anything but the way your chest tightened, the way your heart thudded faster than it should. But you couldn’t. Your eyes stayed locked with his.
You thought about the past week, how something had shifted between you. The distance that had grown, how long it had taken him to reach out.  Azriel was someone who didn’t apologize easily. You knew that. But it hurt in ways you didn’t expect because you’d always thought you were different. That your friendship, your bond, was worth the discomfort. 
You thought he’d make it right. That he wouldn't have let it fester for as long as he did, wouldn’t have felt comfortable leaving you simmering in your hurt. 
“Az?”
The name escaped your lips unguarded, and his face softened at the sound of it. His wings shifted too, just slightly, like tension bleeding out. You hadn’t said his name like that—without anger, without bitterness—for days.
“Yeah?”
“Why didn’t you actually apologize earlier?”
Azriel’s jaw tightened, and his gaze flicked down, as if the answer was there, somewhere in the floor. “I—I didn’t know how.”
You let out a breath—annoyance, defeat, something too messy to untangle. “It’s actually really easy,” you muttered. “You just open your mouth and say the words ‘I’m sorry for being a dick.’”
There was a soft shuffle as Azriel leaned forward, placing his elbows on his knees. He tilted his head, trying to meet your averted gaze.
“Y/n,” he said softly. “I’m sorry for being a dick.”
You let the words settle for a moment before sitting up straighter. Met his eyes once more. You raised a brow, unimpressed. “A bit late, don’t you think?”
Azriel didn’t move, his eyes meeting yours steadily. He was closer now—close enough that you could almost feel his presence like a tangible, heavy thing. His shadows stirred, curling around your fingers, then shifting toward his hand. They tangled between you both, like they were tying you together, threading through the space that separated you.
“It is,” Azriel said. He looked down the second his words hit the open air. It reminded you of repentance, like a sinner confessing to a priestess. His hands rubbed together before he clasped them into a fist, looking up again.
Even then, his thumbs kept moving, brushing over each other in a way that gave him away. He was nervous.
“I messed up,” he said. “I knew I did the minute I repeated what Selene told me. But I’d messed up so badly that I felt like an apology needed to be big enough to make up for it. I couldn’t think of anything.” He took a shallow breath. “I—I was embarrassed.”
You frowned.  For Azriel, who stood in front of you, unwavering in the face of so many enemies, embarrassment seemed almost foreign.
“Embarrassed?”
“Yes.” His voice was quiet as he admitted it.
“What could you possibly have to be embarrassed about?”
Azriel’s face shifted, his eyes looking almost vulnerable, wide open, like you could see everything. Even his shadows slowed to a faint crawl. They seemed to be waiting for something. You weren’t sure what.
“That you were right. I was changing. For her. And I did it on my own.”
“What?” You barely breathed out, confused. “Why?”
“I just…” He hesitated, his eyes lowering. “I thought it might be for the better. That maybe this relationship, maybe Selene, could mold me into something else, something more…” He trailed off.
“More what?”
“Something—someone, more easy to love.”
Your breath faltered, and for a second, everything froze— like the sheer sadness in his voice was enough to freeze time. And then you were flooded with emotions, each different from the one that came before. Confusion. Anger. Pity. Heartbreak. You felt a deep, hollow ache at the idea that he truly believed he needed to change to be loved. 
For the first time, you weren’t sure what the right thing to say was. If there was one at all. All you could do, in the most genuine tone you could muster, was say, “That’s the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard.”
Azriel’s gaze faltered, his expression shifting as though he wasn’t quite sure how to process your reaction. You glanced at his hands, pushing the rush of emotions back, then met his eyes again.
“You should never feel like you need to change. Not like that.”
For a moment, he didn’t say anything, but his eyes softened, and you found yourself focusing on the crease between his brows. It made him look so tender. So young.
Finally, he spoke again. “I was having a bad day that night you came to talk to me. I didn’t realize how I’d hurt you. I thought I just pissed you off, that you were angry.”
“Well, you did piss me off,” you said, your anger bubbling up once more. His expression faltered slightly at that, but you continued, “I’m still angry. You were dismissive. You made me feel selfish, like I didn’t have the right to care about you.”
The words caught in your throat, threatening to stick, but you pushed them out. You’d spent centuries enduring criticism from males in Prythian politics—males who dismissed your input no matter how educated or experienced you were. You knew how to let their opinions roll off your back, not to let them settle. But you never thought Azriel would be the one to hurt you. Make you feel silly. Stupid. Small.
Azriel’s jaw tightened, and his eyes darted away as if he was trying to find the right words. “It was all so stupid. I can’t believe I entertained her ideas—that I let my desire to be needed make me accuse you of having ulterior motives when you were just being a good friend.”
A good friend.
That was exactly what you were trying to be—and yet, the word hurt you. It made you want to wince like you had when Azriel pressed that rag to your cut. You thought back, unwanted, to Selene’s words, and your chest tightened even more. 
Was it possible for the room to be losing air? Maybe that would explain the stupid decisions you’d been making. The thoughts you could feel in the back of your mind. A lack of oxygen to your brain.
“So why did you believe her?” you asked quietly. Your voice sounded more tired now. 
“I don’t know,” he admitted after a long pause. “It doesn’t change what I did. It was cruel. It belittled you. And I’m sorry.”
You stared at him, at the set of his shoulders, the faint downturn of his mouth. He was sincere—you could feel it in every word, in the way his eyes stayed fixed on you, like nothing else existed in the room. You didn’t think you’d ever had someone apologize like this before, so open and raw.
And yet, something inside you still simmered. The anger hadn’t disappeared. Not yet.
“Thank you,” you murmured, “For apologizing.”
Azriel didn’t move. He kept looking at you, really looking at you, and you felt pinned beneath the weight of his gaze. His eyes had more green than Cassian’s. It wasn’t something you usually noticed—how the colors shifted in the light, how clear and startling they seemed up close. Now, though, you couldn’t seem to stop noticing, like every detail of him was suddenly magnified.
You wanted to stay angry. You deserved to. He’d hurt you, and that kind of hurt didn’t just disappear because he finally decided to show up and say the right things. But then his gaze held yours a little too long, his voice a little too raw, and that tightrope you’d built for yourself began to fray.  A sharp sting of guilt came, and you couldn’t shake it—couldn’t shake the growing realization that maybe you didn’t want to be angry at him. Maybe it wasn’t even anger anymore.
You cleared your throat as Azriel shifted his attention back to the kit, his shadows curling and shifting behind him. He grabbed a few butterfly bandages, his voice quiet when he spoke.
“You’re better to me than I deserve,” he said, almost to himself. “I think I convinced myself that it was a matter of time until the ball dropped—until you realized I wasn’t worth this friendship. I thought I’d finally reached that point. I almost just laid down and accepted it.”
You frowned at his words. 
Azriel always carried that shadow of self-loathing like a second skin, like he couldn’t believe anyone could see him as more than his darkest thoughts. As much as you wanted to heal him, to assure him that none of it was true, you knew better. It hurt to know that, after everything, he still didn’t believe it. Because, the truth was, Azriel wasn’t hard to love. It wasn’t hard to support him, to be his friend. He had his moments, as anyone did, but he was always there. Which, you supposed, is why the way he treated you hurt in such a deep, unique way.
The thought that he’d believed, deep down, that your friendship—your loyalty—could be so easily withdrawn, made something inside you ache. Made you sad. Angry. 
“I take back what I said earlier,” you murmured. “That is the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard.”
Azriel’s lips twitched as he searched your face for any hint of a joke. His shadows perched on the apex of his wings, watching you both. Then, when his lips curled, just slightly, they began to move once more. 
“I have my moments,” Azriel said, a half-smile playing at the corner of his lips. He glanced at you, checking if it landed.  “Maybe one too many head injuries is getting to me.”
“Maybe,” you said, the hint of a smile brushing your lips. “In that case, we should keep an eye on Cassian.”
Azriel’s breath escaped in a quiet, almost relieved laugh.  He carefully removed the butterfly bandages from their small packs, the silence settling around you once more. But the air felt heavy, like there was something unspoken hanging between you. Like you needed to say something to rid yourself of the pressure in your chest. 
“You can’t just lay down and accept it, Az,” you said, your voice firm. His eyes snapped to yours. “That’s not what friendship is. Not ours.”
Azriel nodded, his expression softening. “I know. I’ll do better.” 
You smiled faintly, nodding back. Watching as he turned his attention back to the bandages on your cheek, you took a slow breath. His scent washed over you as he leaned in, familiar and warm. For a moment, you almost let yourself close your eyes, just to breathe him in further, to let his scent linger. Had it always been like this? Or had Selene’s words made you overanalyze everything?
“I was shocked when Cassian told me what happened. I can’t believe that while I was busy kicking myself for not doing anything, you were trying to talk to Selene. Trying to be kind. Do you realize how crazy that is?”
His words weren’t disbelief—they were awe. As if he couldn’t comprehend why you’d chosen the harder path, the path of peace. You could barely believe it yourself, sitting with a scratched-up face and a mind full of unwanted revelations. But in the end, it had been simple. 
You’d done it for Azriel. 
You’d found sympathy for her because of Azriel. You’d set aside your anger, your pettiness, because you valued your relationship with Azriel more. Even after everything, after the way he’d treated you, you still believed in him. Believed in his ability to know what he wanted.
“Your happiness was worth it,” you said finally. “I didn’t want to be the one to stand in the way of it. To make things hard.”
Azriel stopped at that, his gaze locking onto yours with an intensity that made you feel exposed in a way you’d never felt before with him. You shrugged it off, trying to play it cool, and added with a dry chuckle, “Also, I figured if I did the noble thing, I’d get to hold it over you for a few centuries.”
Azriel laughed—a genuine, rumbling sound. His shadows fluttered around him. “Yeah, well, you can. More than a few centuries, actually, because you came out with some battle scars.”
You almost spoke again, but the breath left your lungs as you felt his fingers gently press the butterfly bandages to your skin. It was almost funny to think about how angry you’d been—rightfully so. But now, with the feel of his hands on you, it all began to ease. A specific sense of healing, like the betrayal you’d felt—at least in part—was being mended. That Azriel tending to you now, with the soft touch he so rarely granted, proved that he didn’t mean to hurt you. That he did care. And maybe you could give him a little grace for being a flawed male.
When Azriel turned back to the kit, you touched your cheek, feeling the cut deeper than you expected. You hadn’t realized how long it was. Mor’s earlier reaction made more sense now.
Azriel glanced at the wound, then back at you, brow furrowing. “Is it okay?”
You nodded slowly, a soft breath escaping as you winced slightly. “Yeah, just tender. Thank you.”
He nodded in acknowledgment and moved to place the last bandage. And then, almost too quietly, he murmured, “I’m sorry I hurt you. I really am.”
“I know.” You hesitated before adding, “But you’re going to have to make it up to me. You know that, right? This wasn’t enough.”
Azriel steadied his gaze on you, leaning back to face you fully. Suddenly, you weren’t sure if anyone had ever looked at you properly. Not like this. Not as he said, “I will. I promise. In ways that are better than some baked goods.”
“Well… I wouldn’t mind some croissants. They looked good.”
Azriel chuckled. “Oh really?”
Soft tendrils of his shadows weaved around you as you nodded, biting back a smile at the tone of his voice. Something so lively. So Azriel. Although you were used to them, you resisted the urge to shiver as his shadows threaded through the ends of your hair. 
“That’s odd,” he said. “I seem to recall them looking untouched. Some even squished.”
The memory of how you’d grabbed the pastry in frustration, squeezing it in your hand, brought a small smirk to your face. You shrugged a little. “I was pissed. I couldn’t give in.”
“In that case, I’ll buy out the whole bakery.”
You rolled your eyes, but the hint of a smile was still there. It was probably obvious to Azriel.  “The Spymaster supporting local businesses by single-handedly buying out a local bakery. How noble.”
He smiled at that, his expression lighter now—boyish, amused. But his words were sincere. “Whatever you need me to do. I’ll do it.”
“And if I told you to swim naked in the Sidra at night, when it’s cold and snowy?”
“I’d ask Rhysand to make an order for all the children to stay inside.”
You laughed at the thought, and the atmosphere shifted. For the first time in a while, it felt like the world had stopped turning its back on you. The anger, the grudge you’d been cradling like a newborn babe, didn’t feel so heavy now. 
Azriel stood, folding the bandages and packing away the medical supplies, and you found yourself watching him without meaning to once more. You couldn’t help but notice how effortlessly… beautiful he was. There was something in the angle of his jaw, the way the light caught his features that made your breath suddenly catch. He was always handsome, of course, but this was different. 
A sudden wave of curiosity bubbled up inside you. Before you could second-guess yourself, you spoke.  You’d never noticed the sharpness of his eyes, the intensity in them, the way his wings twitched when his shadows curled against them.
“Can I ask you something?” 
He paused, looking down at you with that soft gaze. “Always.”
“Why did you want to change into someone more loveable? Why stay with Selene?”
Azriel’s eyes flickered away, his gaze dropping to the floor. “I… I think I was jealous.”
“Jealous?”
Azriel nodded. Something sad washed through him, made him blink, made his wings fall an inch closer to the ground. “Everyone around us is finding love. They’re starting new lives.”
Something sharp jabbed at you, a bitter feeling you didn’t quite understand. Was there something wrong with you for not feeling the same need to fall in love?
“I’m not,” you said. 
The expression that took over Azriel’s face was one you couldn’t describe, but there was a new kind of weariness in it. His lips parted as though to say something else, but instead, he simply shook his head with a small, wistful smile. “It’s only a matter of time, Y/n.”
You blinked. “What does that mean?”
“It means you’re you. You’re amazing. It’s only a matter of time until you fall for one of your many suitors.”
You furrowed your brow, a bitter taste now settling on your tongue. You didn’t respond— didn’t know how to.
Azriel’s eyes darkened for a brief moment, his jaw tightening, but then his face softened. He exhaled slowly. When he spoke, his voice was quieter than before. “I didn’t think I could handle being alone when you moved on, too.”
The way he said it, the weight of it, made something ache inside you, like a deep hollow was opening up in your chest. You swallowed hard, wishing for something—anything—to ease the growing pressure behind your ribcage.
You wanted him to tell you more, to say something that would make sense of all this. But you didn’t know how to ask for that, didn’t even know what you wanted him to say. 
“Because you don’t want to be the last one standing?”
The silence that followed was almost suffocating. Azriel’s shadows seemed to quiet around you both.
Then, he gave you a half-smile—sad, lopsided, but somehow more real than anything he’d shown you in a long time. Not for months. Not since he began dating Selene. 
“Something like that.”
Before you could dwell on his words, on why they made you feel sad, disappointed even, Azriel finished packing up the kit and turned toward you.
“All done,” he said.
You blinked, pulled out of your thoughts, and nodded. “Oh. Cool. Thank you.”
You looked down at your hands, your fingers brushing over the growing bruises on your knuckles. Your hair fell forward, partially hiding your face, and before you could move it out of the way, one of Azriel’s shadows darted forward, tugging at the strand. You glanced up as he gently called the shadow back with a subtle motion. 
“So... how do I look?” 
Azriel's eyes flicked over you, the corner of his mouth quirking up as he reached forward, his hand brushing that same strand of hair from your face.
“Tough,” he said, slowly moving the strand back. “I think the bandages really bring out your eyes.”
And even though he’d done it a million times before, as Azriel tucked your hair behind your ear, something inside you cracked right open.
✹ ✶ 𖧷 ✶✹ 
Part Five
authors note:
tending to wounds scene!!! tending to wounds scene!! mor has both bracelets??!? az and selene are done?!?! he's being weirdly calm abt the whole thing?!?! reader is THINKINNN...
now begins the fun time of reader wanting to let az grovel (bc he has entered his groveling era) but also overthinking everything and wanting him to just....go away. also fun time of reader having to prove to everyone that despite things she may...or may not... feel, her intentions with Az were neverr driven jealousy hehe
so fun!!! i have some fun ideas guys. thank yall for reading <3 i wonder if you can guess what might happen.... there are a few hints
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all4yoi · 6 months ago
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𝒩ot a bet﹕hyung line
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𝑒nhypen x fem!reader ⚹ cw: each member ranges from 5-1k wc, fluff, lowercase intended, they swear, crying, uh someone kneels, not proud w heejake's 😞, not proofread ( lmk if i missed something! )
sypnosis : upon learning that you were merely the stake in a bet, they wasted no time in mending your relationship.
part one !
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★ LEE HEESEUNG ( 0.8k wc )
"y/n wait!"
heeseung's voice only made you walk faster. you didn't want to humiliate yourself further by stopping and talking to him. all you wanted to do now was to just march out of the school, go home, lock yourself in your room and maybe eat a tub of ice cream while you ugly cry yourself to sleep.
"y/n, please." heeseung pleaded, taking your elbow in his grasp as he spun you around and pulling you closer to the point you can feel his breath on fanning your nose.
he looked at you pleadingly. "it's okay," you managed to say in a shaky voice. "i understand, you can all laugh at me all you want now-" he shook his head, "it's okay really!" you added, pursing your lips.
"i just want to be left alone now okay?" and even if he knew you didn't mean just 'now.' he'll respect your wishes and let you go, but he won't give up.
heeseung watched you walk away from him with a heavy heart, wanting nothing but to just explain everything to you before it was too late. he couldn't lose you, not like this.
when he couldn't see your figure anymore, he messily messed his hair and made his way back to the gym eager to teach a guy how to not spit nonsense.
it's been a week since that happened and a week since he's seen you in the school. he asked some of your classmates and club members but all he received were nasty glares and short cold answers. what happened between the two of you spread like wild fire the following day you walked away from him. everyone knew you were kind of a nerd, but they also knew you were a complete angel and had a heart soft as a pillow.
they also knew that betting on a person's feeling isn't exactly it. — more under the cut!
so throughout that week too, his popularity decreased day by day. he used to receive heart eyes on the hallways and joyful 'good morning, heeseung!'s by random students, now all he received were judgemental glances and they avoided him like a plague, scared to be the next target of a cruel bet.
he didn't care though, all he cared about was your wellbeing. it's been a week and you've still yet to show up to class, so imagine his surprise when you suddenly walk in to the room with your usual hair do, your bag slung over on your shoulder and your glasses almost falling off your nose bridge.
he sat up straighter, gulping as his eyes followed your every move. he could feel hear heart beating louder, as if it was calling for you, desperate to be near you again.
he needed to fix this, asap.
it felt like forever before heeseung heard the bell ring. as soon as he heard the annoying sound, he messily packed up his things and ran after you.
"y/n!" your forearm was then again grabbed by him. although this time, he turned you slowly. heeseung silently admired your face. he missed you so much.
"let me explain, please. it's not what you think. i promise." he whispered, vulnerability in his tone. the simple nod you gave was his signal to interlace his fingers with yours as he looked for an empty room.
you ignored the looks everyone threw your way, either worried and judging. all you could focus on was his warm hand on yours and how you missed it so much, you didn't even realize you both were now inside an empty classroom.
"there was no bet." you furrowed your brows, looking at him with mixed confusion and frustration. "i promise, there was no bet."
"why would they say that then?"
"i don't know, but i promise there's no bet. throughout the months we've been together everything i've said was real." he said, desperate.
heeseung stepped closer.
"what i felt for you was real," he scrambled to get his phone from his pocket, opening his messages app. "you can go through my phone all you want, ask any of my friends-" you raised a brow.
"not those friends! i mean sunghoon, jay, jungwon.. you know." your raised brow made him sputter. "to be completely honest, they've been ignoring me after they heard about what happened.."
you looked at him hesitantly as you scrolled through his messages with shaking hands. you scrolled for so long, you even reached to the messages months before you both got together.
he didn't have any messages to his basketball team group chat unless it was announcements from his coach. the group chat with his actual friends were only filled with his pining over 'the girl on the back of his biology class.'
"heeseung.."
"there's no bet, baby. i'd never do that to anyone." he whispered, stepping closer. "i can't lose you like this.. i love you."
you sniffled as you came crashing on his chest, letting tears fall again. heeseung immediately wrapped his arms around you, sighing in relief as he finally have you back in his arms.
"i was so worried baby." he mumbled, kissing your head.
"i love you forever. i'll kill everyone who tries to get in between us again," heeseung pulled you closer if it was even possible.
"and if they do, i'll make sure to fix everything even if it means the whole world would hate me."
★ PARK JONGSEONG ( 1.0k wc )
jay was confused.
the both of you had a very well planned date tonight, so he was utterly puzzled to see that you weren't responding to his messages. for heaven's sake, you didn't even read his messages, he was just left in delivered.
he had tried calling multiple times but was only met with your automated voice telling him to leave a voice message. it came to the point that he had enough and decided to drive to your house.
throughout the drive, jay wondered what could've happened. he couldn't think of anything that would make you upset like this, he hoped that you just fell asleep and forgot to have your alarm on.
walking up the porch of your house, jay rang the doorbell and was met with your mom who opened the door with furrowed brows when she laid her eyes on him.
"good afternoon mrs. l/n, is y/n home?" your mother's frown deepened, hesitantly looking at the stairs behind her before looking back at him. "i'm sorry jay, she said she doesn't want to see you?"
that caused jay to furrow his brows as well. "wha- may i ask why?"
"i was hoping you'd tell me." if jay was confused a while ago, he was even more confused now and frustrated.
"can i see her, please?" he pleads, the older woman hesitantly opened the door wider to invite him in, and before he could ascend up the stairs, your mom stopped him.
"jay.." he looked back. "i don't know what happened to you both but take it easy on her, alright? she's been crying, i can tell." jay gulped and only nodded, sending your mom a pursed smile.
he knocked on your bedroom door, when no response came, he tried to turn the knob and was thankful that it wasn't locked.
jay slowly opened your door, seeing you curled on one corner of your bed as your body shook from your sobs you tried to keep silent.
he could feel his heart break at the sight. stepping a foot inside the room, he mentally cursed at himself when he accidentally bumped on to your mirror causing your head to shoot up in alarm at the sound.
your already glassy eyes was once again filled with tears as your eyes met his. jay barely dodged the pillow you threw at him, screaming at him to "go away and never show your face to me again."
jay frowned and came closer until he was sat on the edge of your bed, ignoring the words you just shouted at him.
"baby.. what's- what's wrong?" he asked, attempting to hold your hand but you retracted it and tried to throw another pillow at him. he swiftly caught it and brought it back down gently beside you.
"was it worth the one month of free car wash?" you spat through hiccups. jay stayed silent, confused.
"of course it probably was, that's what you do right?" the sight of your swollen and red face kept breaking his heart, he was still confused on what you were talking about but he'll let you talk.
this way he knew how he'd make things better.
"make me fall in love with you in exchange of a month's free of car wash.." you muttered, your eyes still boring on to his. at your words, it finally clicked. "..am i really worth just that much?" another sob.
right, he had forgotten to end the call when his 'friend' came barging into his apartment. you had probably heard all the nonsense the guy sputtered.. but surely you must've heard the way he defended your relationship and swore at that him too?
"i thought.. high school days were done jay. please just leave me alone now. you got what you want." jay shook his head, coming closer and pulling your body to his.
he wrapped his arms around you, his hand rubbing your back as you sobbed hard. he didn't try stopping you when he felt your weak punches that you threw at his chest, his own tears clouding his vision but he didn't dare make them fall.
"you got it all wrong, baby." he whispered, rubbing your nape as your face now rested against the crook of his neck. he ignored the wetness there. "i'm guessing you overheard the conversation with sungjae?"
you nodded, now calmer but not pulling away.
"did you also hear the way i told him to drop the stupid bet he kept insisting to happen? the way i kicked him out of my apartment?" you stayed silent, only sniffling as a response.
jay sighed, wrapping his arm around your waist tighter and pulling you closer.
"the whole campus knows sungjae's an asshole, baby. he was a jerk who thought that being a dick to others were entertaining, and i guess that's why i was like that back in high school.. i wanted to be accepted in their group."
"but we're in college now, i left that group but somehow sungjae's here and is pathetically still stuck in the past." he pulled your face from his neck, cupping your cheek and wiping away your tears.
"i've loved you since high school.. and there's no bet, baby. the moment he had found out i was dating you, he kept bringing up a bet about how long we would last.. but i always shut him out, told him to cut it out and that there will be no bet happening, especially if you're the one getting betted on."
new fresh tears come rolling down your cheek, this time they were tears of relief. glad to know that everything was real, that you weren't just a toy.
"you promise you'll cut him off starting now?" you whispered, looking at him with big glassy eyes.
"i've cut him since high school, y/n. it's him who's keep clinging to me. but i promise he won't be saying anything about the both of us anymore." jay pressed your foreheads together, pressing a soft peck on your lips.
"you will forever be the prettiest and the only one i'll ever love this much in this world, my baby."
★ SIM JAEYUN ( 0.5k wc )
jake watched you run away in confusion, staring at the laughing crowd and turning to look at your locker only to be met with the note he has been telling everyone to throw away.
he angrily took it from your locker, ripping the small paper into pieces. "how many times have i told you to cut this shit out? do you want me to report all of you for harassment and bullying?" he raised his voice at the crowd who had stopped their laughter.
"that's what i thought." he frowned, pushing past them and running after you.
jake knew what everyone was doing the moment it spread that he was dating you. he had received dms telling him he could do better and if he was merely toying with your feelings.
he had told them countless times to drop it, even going far as to almost punch the person who has created the bets if it wasn't for sunoo holding him back. he had hoped that it wouldn't reach you. it was another one of his reasons on why he always went to school earlier, just in case it was placed on your locker. unfortunately, you were earlier than him today.
it's not like he was tolerating it, he had tried countless times to report it but they'd only say it was probably only for fun and he shouldn't take jokes seriously.
but jokes were meant to be funny, right?
jake opened the door that lead to the rooftop slowly, peeking his head to look if you were there. to his luck, you were.
your back faced him while your bag was placed down carelessly beside your feet. jake approached slowly, not wanting to overwhelm you further.
"baby?" he mumbled loud enough for you to hear. you turned your head towards him, showing him your tear stained cheeks. "oh, y/n." he sighed and held your cheeks, wiping away the salty liquid off your precious face.
"jake.. why are you dating me, of all people?" you ask through tears, avoiding his eyes.
jake's eyes softened, he dated you because you were different from everyone who wanted to be like the everyone else, did that make sense? you were your own person, you didn't care about social status, wealth, his circle of friends, and whether someone was good looking or not. you were soft hearted, to the point that you had let others take advantage of that leading them to walking all over you.
and he hated that.
"why not you?" he said softly, tilting your chin up so that you could meet his eyes. "you're everything i've ever needed."
"you can tell the truth." you mutter, looking at jake. his mouth formed a pout, heart broken at the way you had so little love for yourself.
"i am telling the truth, baby." he whispers, taking your hands and placing them on his face before putting his own hands back on yours. "everything is a joke to them when i'm involved." you whisper, ignoring the way your voice broke.
"we don't care about what they think, they're all just jealous. everything we've been through and what i feel for you are real, no jokes." he smiled, pulling you closer to him.
"you promise?"
"baby i'd choose you over anyone in this world over and over again until the heavens above is tired of me."
★ PARK SUNGHOON (0.7k wc)
sunghoon frowned, confused and hurt. he wanted to fix whatever happened, so he took his phone from the couch and his car keys from the wooden bowl in his foyer.
it was when he was in the elevator that he noticed his phone was open. his breath hitched, finally knowing the reason for your departure and choice of words. sunghoon quickly left the group chat and started dialing your number.
it was true that you were a bet. were. he didn't even know why he agreed, maybe because he wanted so badly to fit in. he didn't want a repeat of middle school, so instead of being the bullied and made fun of, he was now the one doing those to others. he wasn't proud of it at the slightest.
that doesn't excuse his actions though. the longer he spent time with you, the deeper he fell. sunghoon never planned for you to find out this way, he already had a plan. first he had to get rid of his 'friends', tell you everything then ask you if you still wanted him to meet your parents.
guilt always ate him alive whenever you would stay over and sleep by his side. he couldn't bring himself to meet your family knowing he hasn't told you everything and the truth.
he felt like his heart would jump out of his chest as he stood infront of the door of your house. if he died tonight on the hands of either your father or older brother, he'd welcome death with open arms.
i deserve it.
he audibly gulped when the door opened, revealing.. you. the way your brows furrowed at the sight of him tightened his chest. he stopped you before you could even close the door on him.
"y/n please, let me explain everything.. o-okay?" the way his voice cracked and the unshed tears in his eyes almost made you give in, but upon remembering what you've read, the anger in you was back.
"explain what?" you spat, turning to look over your shoulder before back at him. "that all those months i've spent loving you," you pointed at him harshly. "was just for entertainment? tell me, what was in it for you, huh?"
sunghoon shook his head, the tears now flowing down his pale cheeks. "no, no! i promise, please i love you." he reached out but you stepped back, biting your lip as you held back the tears.
"just.. leave me alone sunghoon," he felt his heart crack even more. "you've had your fun, you can laugh about i all you want now." you were taken aback when he knelt infront of you, hugging your waist as he sobbed.
"what the-" sunghoon tightened his grip on you, muttering along the words of 'im sorry', 'never meant to be like this', and something along the lines of regretting something.
"sunghoon- oh my god." you groaned as you descended to face him. "please, i didn't mean to. i-" he hiccuped, "i'm sorry, i know it was stupid and there's no reason for me to accept the bet- but i just wanted to fit in. i wanted them to take me as a part of their circle- but, but i soon realized that it was stupid." he looked at you with swollen eyes, desperation swam in his dark irises.
"because i realized that hurting you isn't worth being a part of their asshole group. it started with a bet, i admit, but i truly love you, please believe me." a sob made its way out his throat as he clung into you, his arms circling your neck. "it wasn't a lie whenever i said i'd meet your parents, i was constantly trying to get rid of them first before i met your family, i didn't want to meet them until i've told you the complete truth."
your own tears descended down your cheeks, your heart hurting for yourself and sunghoon. you stayed on the floor wrapped around each other for a moment before you both helped each other up to your feet, he looked at you intensely with red bloodshot eyes. "i'm sorry, i understand if you don't want anything to do with me anymore."
"i understand hoon," you whispered, bringing your hands to cup his face. "but you have to understand too that i can't trust you fully right up again." he nodded, putting his own hands on yours as he kissed your palms.
"i know.. and i'll spent the rest of my life earning it again. i love you."
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arcanefeelings · 1 month ago
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SUCKER ! | kamo choso
words: 1k
description & tw: virgin!choso - you give him head for the first time (oral - m!receiving), overstimulation(?), cum eating
notes: he's just so babygirl I can't help myself
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okay but imagine giving virgin!choso head for the very first time.
he's all flustered and blushing, pupils dark and dilated, gaze fixed on your face as you sink to your knees at his feet. your fingers are hooked into his belt loops as you go down, pulling him down to sit on the sofa behind him as soon as the back of his knees hit the cushion.
a soft huff of air leaves his bitten, swollen lips, when he sits with a small bounce. soft breaths leave his parted lips as your hands move to the hem of his shirt, fingers pushing one corner of the fabric up, up, up, till it's caught between his lips. his torso is exposed for you to trail hot, open-mouthed kisses all over, hands moving back to his pants, nimble fingers undoing his button, then the zipper, as you tap his hips to lift them while you tug them down his thighs.
you're kneeling between his legs, hands caressing his soft hips, lips tracing his v-line, till you move down, down, down. you press your parted lips over the tent in his boxers, kissing in gentle teases and drawing soft whimpers from his lips. choso's hands grip the cushion of the sofa, knuckles turning white while he screws his eyes shut for a moment.
when they open again, theres a plea written in them, something so desperate and needy you can't help but indulge him.
your hands tug his boxers down, freeing his swollen, red cock. there was no way you could have really known before, but he was big. his tip was flushed, red from your teasing and wet with precum, dribbling from his slit. his cock was girthy, and long. god, was his cock long.
you don't realise how you look right now, but choso does. he sees the way your pupils dilate to match his when his cock slaps against his abdomen as you tug his boxers down. he sees the way you nearly salivate at the sight of it, at the sight of him.
and it's all he can do not to whimper when you finally wrap a hand around him, fingers gently squeezing at the base of his cock, wrist turning and tugging experimentally. his teeth clench against his shirt, his hands tightening on the couch cushion.
his gaze is fixed on your hand and your gaze is fixed on his face.
you're taking in every reaction you can, every change in his expression, to see what makes him tick. what makes his dick twitch in your grip? what makes his hips buck harder into your hand? what makes him leak even more? because, as you learn soon, choso is very leaky. he's so aroused by the sight and the feel of you, that his tip is constantly glistening with precum.
that's when you tug slowly, moving your hand up, along with the twisting motions from earlier. you repeat the movement. once. twice. his eyes shut again, tight. its like he's denying himself from making any sounds, his teeth sinking deeper into his shirt. and that's when you change it up again.
you bring your grip higher along his cock again, thumb swiping over his slit and then working your hand back down. and he whimpers.
it's soft, but oh so sweet. and oh, the things you'd do to hear them again.
so you try again, this time, with yet another tactic. your free hand rests on his pelvis, thumb circling over the bone. and then you lean closer, eyes locked on his face through your lashes as your tongue darts out, licking the fresh pre from his slit, and his eyes snap open, a saccharine-sweet moan leaving his lips. the hem of his shirt falls from his lips and you miss the sight of his bare torso for a moment.
"cho," you whisper, lashes fluttering up at him, and he nearly comes right there, "you can hold my hair." your hand on his pelvis moves to one of his hands on the couch, gently prying his fingers from the cushion and guiding them to your hair. they thread through the locks, gripping them tight as he groans softly.
"you look so pretty like this," you whisper, hand going back to his hip, thumb once again tracing circles. you hear the way his breath hitches, see the way his eyes widen fractionally.
and then your lips wrap around him, suckling the mushroom tip, and his head falls back with a whine, hips bucking into your mouth as he cums down your throat. whispered apologies leave his lips, a few drops of hot cum seeping past yours as he holds you in place by your hair, whimpering as he rides out his orgasm.
"'m sorry - hah - baby," he chokes out, "nngh - sorry-"
but you moan, swallowing every drop you can, gagging around his length as your eyes roll back, watery and hazy, but trying to focus on his. his cock twitches at the sight, the wet, clumped lashes sending another rush of blood straight to his cock as he spurts the last of his cum down your throat, panting.
he whimpers under his breath as he collects himself, apologetic and embarrassed for cumming so soon, and you can't help the way you find it all so utterly cute.
because, truth be told, you had been surprised. but you were not put off, by it, quite the opposite. it was pretty attractive. not to mention, he came a lot - it was a rather hefty ego boost.
he gently loosens his grip on your hair, muttering softly, and while he may be done, but you aren't. you'd never given anyone head before, but you were sure that him cumming in your mouth the second you took him in wasn't the 'full experience'. and you were oh so willing to help him get that - a little too willing, in fact.
so you pull away from his cock with a string of saliva mixed cum attaching your lower lip from his tip, licking your lips and then cleaning him up, ignoring his whines of surprise and overstimulation when you move from his trimmed base to his ruddy tip.
only to wrap your lips around him again while he grips your hair tighter, at war with himself about whether he should make you stop, or let you go ahead.
but he was powerless under your mouth - this time you were determined to suck him off properly and then drink his cum. or keep trying till he let you.
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