#pt 2 will be... someday

[sylenth-l]

Fragments, pt. 1

[btsjk-biased]

Peach Koo 🍑

[ cr. 0613data ]

[acourtofquestions]

Empire of Storms Part 1 thoughts, theories & a VERY VERY long post of rambling:

(+ this title as a spoiler warning; heads up to my fellow fans & first time readers (esp. those semi-tagged in this post), I address a lot of Part 1 & possibly up to Chapter 52 of EoS;-) I am ALSO on my first read just finishing said 52 so no spoilers for me past that as I go through Fireheart as well plz, & thx!

I will also be posting a far shorter better edited version of this post next :-)

Oh good gods this book is going to destroy me in the best way possible😅😅🤦‍♀️😭😁😬😆🤣🙃❤️‍🔥🖤🫶

Long writing/reading (I HAVE LOTS OF THOUGHTS & FEELINGS & NEED TO SCREAM IN WIVERN FANGIRL NONSENSE! So, this post will probably jump around quite a bit between chapters, thoughts, theories, reactions, & randomness; read/skim at your own rambling risk😅 also in advance for missed autocorrects I TRIED😂) “round up” for Part 1 of EoS. & yes I have been reading a LOT (whilst VERY busy😂😭), so this blog’s posts are in desperate need of a catch up & will probably only grow more hectic as alas, my library & brain demand to know what happens next NOW😂. You have been warned this post & blog is about to be more incoherent than usual! — And as I said this post is LONG (If your thinking I’m kidding; legit I think this is 20 something pages long; consider it here for historical purposes… & I had a VERY long drive with no books😂)

— NOW —

The organization of parts is interesting, we go from Nightfall, to The Fire-Bringer, to Fireheart. It feels like a full circle from night to day; from learning to being, and showing Aelin’s claim (not from Elena, not from her powers, but from her). The heart of Terrasen, the fire for the world (esp. against the Valg). … It’s also scaring the heck out of me with her self-sacrificial tendencies & the VERY intense vibe (from the first few chapters this story advances into a “final chapter vibe” yet it’s only the first few; it’s reminding me of Deathly Hallows almost? — which is esp. confusing CAUSE I STILL HAVE 3 BOOKS LEFT… and we’re already this intense😬😅soooo MAAS PLEASE DON’T YOUR DARE HURT A HAIR ON ANY OF THEM!!) P.S. for this note; it’s also making my shipping fuel go from 180 to infinity cause she’s his Fireheart🥹 (If only “worried over liking the ship” HoF first read me could see me now😂 @ goddess-aelin 🫶YOU WERE SO RIGHT👏). And generally it’s just been cool to see how the entire story & series has shifted so much (yet kept its heart ;-) !

So, Generally speaking: I’ve loved the first half of Nightfall & The Fire-Bringer (As I’ve loved the series). From the pace & many perspectives, to the plot twists & Easter egg style hints, and the writing with straight-up foreshadowing & full-circle series arcs (many of which have had big moments interwoven & reaching peak within this book). There has been some great character development (many beautiful lines/moments) a lot of raw emotion (crying, laughing, and all of the above), & entertaining interactions as my favorite piece of this book has been all these stories finally crossing paths (& within that developing relationships, friendships, families, courts, enemies, allies, etc.) for the “New World” that’s coming.

Nightfall:

“Elena sent up a final prayer on a pillar of smoke rising from the valley floor that the unborn, faraway scions of this night, heirs to a burden that would doom or save Erilea, would forgive her for what she was about to do.”

Elena I don’t know if I can forgive you for what you’re about to do😅😅 the plan here is long coming, as Lysandras “theory” further confirms:

"The more it seems like this was all planned, laid out long ago. Erawan had decades before Aelin was born to strike decades during which no one with her powers, or Dorian's powers, existed to challenge him. Yet, as fate or fortune would have it, he moves now. At a time when a Fire-Bringer walks the earth." It was all horrifying, impossible, but—so much of their lives defied logic or normalcy. The shifter next to him proved that. "Morath is unleashing its horrors," Lysandra said. "Maeve stirs across the sea. Two goddesses walk hand in hand with Aelin. More than that, Mala and Deanna have watched over her the entirety of her life. But perhaps it wasn't watching. Perhaps it was ... shaping. So they might one day unleash her, too. And I wonder if the gods have weighed the costs of that storm. And deemed the casualties worth it."

& previous lines on “all the players in the unfinished game” (I’m getting S&B Ruin & Rising vibes (for those of you Grishaverse fans; which btw one of these days I need a whole post about parallels & these two series, cause just the stag and lord of the north alone. I AM INTRIGUED & do love both fandoms ;-) + I think the crows would fit so well & it would be wonderfully & utterly chaotic🤣).

So, my general concern is this theory & warning everyone keeps giving Aelin about “the price”; from Rolfe’s tattoo map & warning question: “"That was the price of my power. What shall yours be, Aelin Galathynius?" She didn't reply to him before storming out. Though Deanna's voice had echoed in her mind. The Queen Who Was Promised.” To clever Elide’s question: “Was that the price for the humans they'd once been-magic that was somehow immune to what flowed naturally in this world? Or had the choice been taken from them, as surely as their souls had been stolen, too?” to crucial warnings like Brannon: “We burn not just within our magic, but also in our very souls. For better or worse.” & the danger continuing to grow like that of the FULL Deanna scene:

“And she said to him, in a voice that was deep and hollow, young and old, "Every key has a lock. Tell the Queen Who Was Promised to retrieve it soon, for all the allies in the world shall make no difference if she does not wield the Lock, if she does not put those keys back with it. Tell her flame and iron, together bound.”

She is the one, she has to get the lock, and she will have to pay the price for both (her ancestors & the darkness created in centuries of Erawan); one that will be heavy (one Elena failed to do; and I somewhat worry is because while she did sacrifice herself, her friends, her people, her kingdom, even letting Brannon fall to ruin (Brannon; the only one who ever successfully sealed it, because he sacrificed her mother, his love, “My mother died to forge that Lock!”) she did not let Gavriel “that which she most loved” fall; she tried to do it alone & was left with no option but to leave it to someone else; another era, another heir); now Aelin carries every thread, plot, battle aligning; the power she wields & sheer force of it, the weight of her crown & every choice it comes with, the price it will demand (the one she has spent a lifetime running from; “my crown is just another set of shackles”; the one Mala may have been shaping her to be able to make even through experiencing tragedy & turbulence in decisions over & over again). The warning in every choice; including the person she loves most (Rowan’s fear of “The people you love are just weapons used against you.”) “This thing between them, the force of it, could devour the world.” Her terror in that; struggling to allow them to go for the front lines while she survives, no longer alone & no longer able to take it all on, but struggling to let them in on the “master plan”. Struggling because even as she does, it weighs on them too: “Aelin was trembling, a hand on her friend-face so white and drawn that any harsh words he'd reserved for her were unnecessary. His queen knew the cost. It had taken her so damn long to trust any of them to do anything. If Aedion roared at her now, even if he still yearned to ... Aelin might never delegate again. Because if Lysandra hadn't been in the water when things had gone so, so badly…” And they do see it; the on-growing burden on Aelin’s shoulders & how she’s carrying the weight of it; both as a queen (despite her current lack of crown) another long-coming plot; as spoken by Chaol: “There she was, that queen looking out at him, a hint of the ruler she was becoming. And it knocked the breath out of him, because it made him feel so strangely young-when she now seemed so old.” And turning her desperate & weary; heavier slowly: “Since Rowan had gone, since word of Rifthold's fall had arrived, Aelin had been half present. Distant.” line after line “She'd grown quieter the farther north they'd traveled. Perhaps weeks on the road had sapped her.” They fear for her “And he wondered if Aelin was somehow watching the archipelago, and the seas, and the skies, as if she might never see them again.” for the price of such powers “We have yet to see the full extent of Erowan’s darkness. And I think we have yet to see the full extent of Aelin’s fire.” & They try to help “After tonight, depending on what the lords reported he'd try to find her a quiet place to rest for a day or two before they made the last leg of the trek to Orynth.” desperate to stop it “"She's not some unwitting pawn." He'd defy the gods, find a way to slaughter them, if they threatened Aelin, if they deemed these lands a worthy sacrifice to defeat the Dark King.” to protect her “Rowan at her right, Aedion at her left, Lysandra at her back; nothing and no one would get to their queen.” all the while they know they cannot as Rowan’s line painfully says: “This was war. These lands would endure far worse in the coming days and months. His queen, no matter how he tried to shield her, would endure far worse.” (Also the key word endure, frequently used for the “lost children of Terrasen” as I call their grouping). To even Aelin’s own words “She was a liar, and a murderer, and a thief, and Aelin had a feeling she'd be called much worse by the end of this war.”

This is where I fear Nightfall will come to rise in Fire-Heart:

I say all of this to say I get concerned when Maas feels the need to start a book with such warning; in both the price, and person paying it… Aelin is too much like Elena… Celaena has lost too much to lose anyone else (“And she would not add another name of her beloved dead to her flesh.” — “"We'll get her back, Aelin." "I can't bury another friend." "You won't."”)… and carrying it so heavily I worry she may overpay her share on their behalf’s. And between that & the many conflicting & star aligning forces of Rowaelin I worry the conflicts may grow; originally it was him not feeling “enough” for her because he’s a Prince not a King, he has no money no land no army (thankfully we are done with that piece because he can give her everything🥹 of his heart and that’s all she needs). We have the inevitable Maeve’s vendetta. We have my growing fear with the Carranam bond getting drained; like it almost did with Deanna. And the quotes all warning that their world may lead to another being destroyed, one or the other; “This thing between them, the force of it, could devour the world. And if they picked it, picked them, it might very well cause the end of it.”

… and though this isn’t due to Nightfall I am just concerned (I try to avoid spoilers (and continue to do so); but I already know it’s got a cliffhanger) and I have read enough Maas books (and just fandoms in general) to fear the 1-2 punch of “THEY’RE ALL GONNA DIE😱 — PSYCH😜 THEY ARE ALL FINE😅 — JUST KIDDING EVERYONE YOU LOVE IS DEAD!☠️” + the amount of possible brainwashing between Valg, Wyrdstones, and now gods… I’m just nervous (& still not 100% sure someone isn’t already secretly possessed).

MY DO NOT KILL LIST IS GETTING TOO LONG: From ASTERIN (scared me half to death SARAH) & Manon + 13 (obvi💁‍♀️), Abraxos & Fleetfoot & Evangeline (had to break my “no Google” rule to assure the latter twos safety *phew*), Aelin & Rowan (DON’T YOU EVEN DARE), Lysandra, Aedion, Dorian (HE’S BEEN THROUGH ENOUGH; STOP HURTING HIM), Elide (just let her be happy & home & make Marion proud dammit), Chaol (he’s not even here & I’m still a little mad BUT STILL) & Yrene (she hasn’t even fully come in yet & I don’t care I love her already) + Nesryn who babe, you know I love you, but I need more history & perspective to trust you fully (you seem cool, but I’m worried the lack of knowledge about you means your gonna lie or die, & it’s just too soon after Sorscha), Emrys (your safe in Mistward; STAY THERE), Sam (beloved, you’re still on this list; even though I know how it ended, & really do LOVE Rowaelin, I just still miss you; & want a Multiverse of happy endings for EVERYONE).

— HOWEVER —

I hope Fire-Heart will bring:

More Manorian; and let’s be honest ALL the ships (+ it could get realll literal with the set-up right now😂 the ships are LITERALLY sailing🤣) of course I CAN NEVER HAVE ENOUGH ROWAELIN (though Fire-Bringer was great 🥵 THEY FINALLY SAID I LOVE YOU🥹👏) & I am SO HERE FOR Lysandra & Aedion! … also what’s up with Elide & Lorcan? (Her last name + his first name TOO SIMILAR😂)

More interactions in general between all the characters from ships, to friendships, to even enemies (who often also become friends😂) honestly might be my fav part about this book so far; seeing it all line up & crossover; (from aforementioned Elide & Lorcan), (to previous & hopefully again soon) Manon & Aelin, the FULL team with THE THIRTEEN (Asterin & our crew would be absolute chaos & I would love every second of it), Sorrel too! AND VESTA! Petrah Blueblood (I find her VERY interesting as a character), Elide & the “lost children of Terrassen” finally meeting; maybe some more Ren & Bane updates (cause I wonder about them & what their up to) to Abraxos & Fleetfoot (PLEASE I NEED THIS… just don’t eat eachother😅😂) & yes I do STILL miss Evangeline & Fleetfoot; though I am happy they are safe; while the fire trick was cool it was SO not sustainable, & I do trust Murtaugh… and these full circles; Ansel’s (presumed) reintroduction & the TAB throw-backs/crossovers (plus NOW Crochans?). —

Exploring things of the sort; what is the other side of the “Crochan’s tale”, what is Elide’s true bloodline, how does the new Mala knowledge effect Aelin & Dorian?

Who are the Cadre (& learning more of their history; both with Aedion & Gavriel (that blood oath better not pass to children), Lorcan (Elide is already helping there thankfully) the other twin because I already stan Fenrys, and really Rowan because who are they really? Despite the “blood oath” reasoning they spent centuries together there has to be more to it). I want to get to know the twins & their whole Yin & Yang balance; also what is Fenrys power? (why does Rowan let him go after Aelin in the water instead, he must be pretty dang powerful & more so than Rowan to be her best option in his eyes)! What other histories does Rowan have (are the “witches” one of them)? What else is Maeve (I will never trust her) hiding?

Why is Erowan this way (who really killed Aelin’s parents)? Are we POSITIVE the Ilken aren’t the creatures Elide saw in the basement (wow that sounds extra ominous😂)?

Will Chaol show up (how is his team & the southern allies coming along)?

What is the limitation to Lysandra’s powers (can they find a way to trick the Terrasen flower into “blooming”)?

Is their further crossover between these series (ACOTAR & CC)?

Explain further how certain things work such as mates (Rowan has two? Celaena/Aelin too maybe? & what that means for others)… And just a lil’ fluff (Rowan & Fleetfoot, the team all together, shenanigans & some side plots for funsies) maybe?…

I theorize Fire-Heart will:

Confirm Rowaelin as mates (they practically have already but I want to hear the words). Plus plenty more of them just being them (their every moment is so detailed & precious). Maybe even some more moments with Prince of Doranelle vibes ;-)

Show that there are multiple Carranams (possibly a dyad between Aelin & Dorian. Rowan & Aelin being the mates balance; making Aelin & Dorian the “friendship / rulers / fates” balance). & Without a limit to their power; the danger of over-draining others (Deanna causing Rowan to feel “thunder steal his magic” is CONCERNING & Dorian’s magic is hungry for it).

Confirm that Aelin can use shadowfire, moonfire, & power without limit. Explore her other gifts such as water & healing. Possibly introduce her as a powerful enough wielder to use all the forms (as briefly referenced as a possibility among others before).

Confirm Lysandra & Aedion as mates or at least a couple. (Also use it to explore Aedion’s history & introduce the Bane or at least their set-up).

Bring back the Mycenians since Lysandra & Aelin’s masterplan worked (THE DRAGON THEORY WAS RIGHT)!

Set sail on Manorian in a way that is explanatory/foreshadowing. (Possibly tap into Dorian’s immortality? & power exploration explanations. And go into Manon’s ability to forge a new alliance of peace between MANY groups; not because I’m suggesting the sexist “get married” nonsense so many are giving Aelin, literally just that she could speak on behalf of many groups & since Darrow has brought diplomatic debates into this war it could be an asset).

Introduce Ansel, and perhaps loop back to the Red Desert (unless the Silent Assassins have disappeared). Showing all of Celaena as we see all of Aelin (letting Rowan know even more of her, healing those wounds as he & her family fully accept her; hopefully doing the same thing for them; going through more history). & Similarly with Rowan; possibly saving the Cadre’s lives through it (or at least stopping Lorcans “execution”).

Tie in the spider silk, between Abraxos’s wings (Manon’s “stealing”), & Aelin’s Red Desert history deals. If not in this book than KoA.

Explain Maeve’s obsession with Aelin & vendetta against the family.

Aelin reclaiming her crown by having the heart of her people (we’ve seen “the future”, there is a woman with hair like moonlight; I think this is Manon. The people chant for her, she is their Queen and that is her court; including the witch).

I think Aelin (like Manon & the other golden eyed 13) are Valg proof. She has the golden eye ring of the Ashryver eyes… in that case maybe Aedion too?? (Hopefully🥺… I mean why else would history write a poem about it?) … While I’m at it let’s make Lysandra’s shifting immune too (protect all my bb’s)!😂

Reveal the Wyrdstone Elide carries as THE Lock (between her last name having the word lock😂 or “loch” I guess, the magic not being immediately recognized as a Wyrdkey by Lorcan, & Kaltain’s promise/importance with an explanation for the “living gate” term). Then when she reaches them so does the thread of fate (once again).

Go to Ellywe & both heal/break my soul (all this travel has made it inevitable; though it is cool to see more of the continents of this fictional world etc.)!🙃

Not something I truly believe but one I wonder on; is there a relation between either Rowan & Manon (history or hair color related😂) or Aelin & Manon (some sort of blood relation; the gold eyes & power levels?).

Not theories but things I think need to happen ASAP: STOP WEARING THE WYRDKEY as a necklace AELIN I DON’T care if it’s a “family heirloom” IT’S A BAD IDEA (have you not seen Harry Potter? — sry for another reference, but seriously DON’T WEAR HORCRUX LOCKETS folks)! Tell Elide the full truth; Celaena = Aelin (at least Lorcan is getting close). Commit to immortality (I’m looking at you Aelin & Aedion; esp. Aelin… ROWAN NEEDS THIS; the only time I will ever encourage a woman to “settle”😂)! Address the very long list of “things for later/back burner” because I can’t keep track😂 & they are all WAY too important😅, dangerous😬, and THE LIST IS LONG SO HURRY UP Y’ALL😁!!!

— NOW ONTO THE “ACTUALLY” READ “BIG PORTION😂 —

The Fire-Bringer:

A lot of reactions have random posts; per usual many of the opinions change with hindsight, but I like being able to look back & enjoy it for the first time so (while I do try to give an update) I’ll probably leave the posts up :-) hoping to get a few lil (by that I mean pages jk sry not sry lol I warned you) notes I’m pondering on in here though…

I love the Little Folk’s little but magical role:😊 when (not if; I’m gonna will it into reality with terminology) this gets an adaptation I can’t wait to see them! — I really love the fan art & its many different takes for what they may be all the way from fairy’s, to wisps, to “baby-Groot”-like characters! … I also wonder if they could help out with that “rulers flower thing” possibly, same as pondered for Lysandra (I think these “little things” will be keys to helping Aelin with “dum-dum Darrow” (as I’ve dubbed him; cause I’m angry! & it may be only a 1st read impression as of right now, but he’s also given me 0 reason to like him).

The Oakwald forest: EVERYONE IS SO CLOSE yet SO FAR! (At least Manon has finally made it to the team… well kinda… she better actually MAKE IT past the ship drop-off… if you can call it that?😅 this is why I need to type fast & go read!) If Tower of Dawn manages to match this pace of “just-missed, kinda-crossover” I see why the tandem read would work! It’s quite fun (& semi-irritating/anxiety-inducing but in a good way😂).

Speaking (writing?😂) of Manon: TALK ABOUT IMMEDIATE CHAOS, each of her chapters have been SO intense. I might have cried with her the most so far; I legitimately almost lost it over Asterin’s almost execution & The Thirteen (I AM VERY GLAD THEY FINALLY LEFT THE MATRON & got out so they can please be safe now; or at least they already are in my mind; though last we saw them it was all chaos, they were running (a win) & the shadows seemed to confirm them getting out (another good sign) while Asterin being dragged off screaming isn’t great I think she was shouting for Manon because she didn’t want to leave her… & I refuse to accept any other answer) only problem is Manon is not with them; & she really needs to be😅😅😭 instead of half-dead in the woods, hunted by a banshee-hound-thing? Abraxos honey, thank you for taking care of mother🥹😂 at least she is with the team on the same-ish side now. So, hopefully Abraxos will go grab the rest of The Thirteen while he drops Manon off? I NEED THE WHOLE GANG; I mean Erawan & Maeve are screwed in that case. Esp. since most of them are Valg proof golden eyed; & also have you seen these gals fight? … Honestly, I think they are one of the great shows of good writing in these books; because these characters could easily be read as villains & psychopaths to be hated, yet they manage to be a compelling, interesting, group of female badassery & sisterhood, that really captures your heart (pun intended). HOWEVER, I say all of this Spoiler-free while not oblivious; I have 2 &1/2 books left (wow that’s numbers too small I’m gonna get sad😅😂) I know people say this ending is a hard, & a book of cliffhangers… So, if this is “just” the beginning it can only get crazier😅 (I just don’t want to know; I want to think this will be like ACOTAR with no deaths as long as I can believe it) & even with the Matron’s probable on-it’s-way “dispatch”, they managed to hide Asterin for years. My main concern is Sorrel & Vesta as they’ve been given enough time to love them, yet not enough time for a full arc, I can’t have any red shirts & I’m a little worried for them (but I just wanna love them as long as I can🥹).

I’m so glad I was right; from day ONE I’ve been wondering about Aedion & Lysandra cause *coughs* I mean their first scene together ever… she’s changing his shirt… and now the whole “wandering off to give Rowaelin time” which while a fair-ish excuse it is also a little ;-) ;-) … and now that he’s said he’s gonna marry her “Because I am going to marry you," he promised her. "One day. I am going to marry you.”… I’m counting it (why is it giving New Girl CeCe & Schmidt?😂)

But in all seriousness ship-ness aside I appreciate their friendship; the understanding of each-other with a healthier trauma bond (for all they cannot say, yet carry so heavily; all the shame & fear Aedion is wrestling with; & the steady acceptance Lysandra gives) I loved them both as is, but together is something precious & nice to see develop (while staying slow, taking time, surety of respectful). While at times it feels fast, it makes complete sense (esp. as we don’t get their perspectives as frequently, & with the knowledge that mates can be pretty immediate; even if it’s not “said”; it tracks).

Though it hurt (& was also kinda healthily valid) to hear Aedion be angry with Aelin, it also says a lot about how much he cares for Lysandra (as Aelin often can “do no wrong in his eyes”) to be angry in the first place “And for the first time, he hated his cousin. He hated Aelin for asking this of Lysandra, both to defend them and to secure the Mycenians to fight for Terrasen. Hated the people who had left such scars on the shifter that Lysandra was so willing to throw her life away. Hated ... hated himself for being stuck in this useless tower.” While also knowing it’s not her fault, it is her choice, but it also had to be (he at least knows that & does cut her slack). “He was shaking now, that rage indeed taking over. But Rowan snarled at him, low and vicious, "Save it for later." Aedion growled right back at him. Rowan gave him a cold, steady look that said if he so much as began to hint at what their queen carried, he'd rip out his tongue. Literally. Aedion shoved down the anger. "We can't carry her, and she's too weak to shift." "Then we wait here until she can," Aelin said. But her eyes drifted to the bay, and to the city beyond, still cheering. victory—but very nearly a loss. The remnants of the Mycenians, saved by one of their long-lost sea dragons. Aelin and Lysandra had woven ancient prophecies into tangible fact. "I'll stay," Aedion said. "You deal with Rolfe." "Fine," he said. Aelin groaned, getting to her feet, but stared down at him before she took Rowan's extended hand. She said softly, "I'm sorry." Aedion knew she meant it. He still didn't bother replying.” & knows (because Lysandra makes him better; as she already reminds him with her knowing compassion): “"That man has endured enough, Aedion. A little kindness wouldn't kill you." "He stabbed Aelin. If you knew him as I have, you wouldn't be so willing to fawn over. "No one expects you to fawn over him. But a kind word, some respect-" He rolled his eyes. "Keep your voice down." She did- but went on, "He was violated, and even if you cannot draw up forgiveness for stabbing Aelin against his own will, then try to have some compassion for that." — Aedion snarled at her. Lysandra snarled right back and held his stare with the face not trained or built for bedrooms, but the true one beneath—wild and unbroken and indomitable. No matter what body she wore, she was the Staghorns given form, the heart of Oakwald Aedion said hoarsely, "I'll try." "Try harder. Try better."”)

& Then moments like him asking her to come with him to meet Gavriel, & she simply does. Or that she trusts him to carry her home, vulnerable & tired. I think they give a lot of what the other needs while growing to be who they are themselves. Plus Lysandra deserves to be a leopard princess, sister-in-law(ish) to Aelin. “Princess Lysandra Ashryver sounds nice, doesn't it?” YES IT DOES!

Speaking of Lysandra (who is seriously one of my all time favorites; I relate, I adore her, and really it just doesn’t get better then all of these characters) I WAS RIGHT ABOUT LYSANDRA BEING A DRAGON!!! GENIUS!! And also LYSANDRA WAS A DRAGON!!!!!! I love her & Aelin’s plotting (which also gets kinda Kaz Brekker vibes sometimes; she is so brilliant, & the fact Lysandra just piles into the shenanigans; I love them). TALK ABOUT POWER! Also what fun genius for mythology… winning the people’s hearts… etc. …if only she could turn into a flower… and making that moment the first perspective we have from her in this book was so fun! Shoutout to @ asexualzucchini for fandoming about this with me (heads up again cause I know your on a first read too; THIS POST HAS SPOILERS for Pt. 1 ;-)

ELIDE & LORCAN; a team-up I was NOT expecting, yet find SO intriguing. From highlighting Elide (which is well deserved) esp. in her truest strength; smarts (her & Annabeth Chase would’ve been besties) and as something even Lorcan sees & values greatly, extra fun as in combo to his physical strength it’s a pretty perfect team (& a helpful combo for storytelling because you see his perspective which is of course very different then spoken threats from Rowaelin perspectives ONLY; & of course once again while I’m curious to learn more on the Cadre; esp. since Lorcan often to me just seems angry to have “lost” his friend). And I do love the boundaries they respect (even as an unknown dare I say “anti-hero”? Lorcan still has some clear moral lines (& I generally appreciate that in the Maasverse that everyone except the worst of the worst can agree where those are) he also keeps his word a VERY intriguing piece of his character), also the representation they give (go team disability represent!) + small girlies hanging out w big brooding boys (there’s my “kitty” style reference for you Aelin lol). Also funny cause eventually they’re gonna end up in the same place😂 P.S. him calling her MARION (gut-wrenching), Crochan history (very curious), etc. IT’S JUST ALL SO INTRIGUING! … Now if we could only have an empowering crossover so she can go talk to Feyre & realize she’s already intelligent, powerful, & capable, & not being able to read has no effect on that!! (while we’re at it & I’m on a crow comparison kick; go hug Wylan please).

Another team up I didn’t expect but surprisingly loved most was Dorian & Rowan’s roadtrip through Rifthold (new movie adaptation idea?😂):

Dorian, Dorian, Dorian where do I begin? — I love him. I think he might be the most morally grounded character (odd as that sounds for someone that was recently possessed). He would be a good king, because most important he’s just a good man. My heart breaks for him, he’s seen a lot without time or space to deal with it (it’s just adding up; “The latter, Dorian realized, usually happened when even the heat and sun couldn't drive away the shadows of the past few months—when he awoke with his sweat feeling like Sorscha's blood, when he couldn't abide even the brush of his tunic against his neck.”); yet he still gives everything he can to his friends, his people, his country (& Rowan gives & takes care of him too (another Aelin paralell/foreshadowing; “"You're not going to believe me," Aelin went on. "What l've just said, you're not going to believe me. I know it--and that's fine. I don't expect you to. When you're ready, I'll be here.”) ; “He wasn't sure whether to thank the Fae Prince for noticing or to hate him for the kindness.” — Because Rowan knows; “"You're going to hate the world, Dorian. You are going to hate yourself. You will hate your magic, and you will hate any moment of peace or happiness. But I had the luxury of a kingdom at peace and no one depending upon me. You do not."”); and somehow Dorian just remains good and kind even when the world is not. He may carry more, but it is never an excuse for him; he sets aside his pride, humbled, un-selfish, caring, and really trying. (remarkable enough that even Rowan notices & takes note; “I have known many kings in my life, Dorian Havilliard. And it was a rare man indeed who asked for help when he needed it, who would put aside pride.”) And I also appreciate that he is cared for in this, seen for who he is; respected in it (FINALLY said quite well in: “Rowan knew most underestimated the sharp intelligence under that disarming smile. Knew that Dorian's value wasn't his godlike magic, but his mind”)

And getting the friends & care he deserves, like Aelin who kept her word “I came back for you. "You both came back,"” (he is her friend, she does care for him) as it’s shown because she went so far as to send Rowan (someone she would NEVER risk; “"I will save him," he murmured. "I wouldn't ask this of you unless it was ... Dorian is vital. Lose him, and we lose any support in Adarlan." And one of the few magic-wielders who could stand against Morath. Rowan's nod was grim. "I serve you, Aelin. Do not apologize for putting me to use." Because only Rowan, riding the winds with his magic, could reach Rifthold in time. Even now, he might be too late. Aelin swallowed hard, fighting the feeling that the world was being ripped from under her feet.” (When she says “losing support” she pauses; because really it’s about losing Dorian her friend, remember she’s always coming from the mindset of “she will not write another name on her scars” almost to the level of her “I will not be afraid mantra” fading in from QoS in this first EoS quarter) so she wouldn’t risk him even in leaving her side (which props to Maas for breaking a typical VERY possessive YA trait; even at the cost of a promise-ish from the last book; “Next time we need to save the world, we do it together. Deal.”). & keeps keeping that promise to save him; not only to keep her word, but keep her friend. Along the way he so easily becomes Rowan’s friend, thawing the ice by just being a decent guy (that says a lot for a centuries old Prince of stoic brooding). I love the genuine respect they have for each other; the time they take (even short as it is) to have a mini-boat therapy session because they needed it; it says a lot about the two of them as good men; the way they help each-other, plan & train together (Dorian even has time to understand Aelin’s time away with a new compassion😅😅 “Honestly, Dorian had no idea how Aelin had survived months of this--let alone fallen in love with the warrior while she did. Though he supposed both the queen and prince possessed a sadistic streak that made them compatible” & even see Rowan get a taste of the Celaena Sardothien world & find he has similar sass). vice-versa you also see someone valuing Rowan’s strength, strategy, personality beyond warrior or prince, without any of this “male pride chest-puffing instinct”. And the way despite the change in new healthier friendships you also have the original ones growing with them “"And will keep changing," she said, squeezing his arm once. "But... There are things that won't change. I will always be your friend." His throat bobbed. "I wish I could see her, just one last time. To tell her... to say what was in my heart." "She knows," Aelin said, blinking against the burning in her eyes. "I'll miss you," Dorian said. "Though I doubt the next time we meet will be in such …civilized circumstances." She tried not to think about it. He gestured over her shoulder to her court. "Don't make them too miserable. They're only trying to help you."” It helps both him and them; like the team they need to be & are finding a way in: “"We'll figure it out." She loosed a breath. "But your being king is the first step of it."” Like the Queens & Kings they have been becoming for a world slowly building; starting with the fact he is one of the good men that do exist (like Nehemia & Celaena said) and as already shown: “Ten years later, and they were all sitting together at a table again--no longer children, but rulers of their own territories. Ten years later, and here they were, friends despite the forces that had shattered and destroyed them. Aelin looked at the kernel of hope glowing in that dining room and lifted her glass. "To a new world," the Queen of Terrasen said. The King of Adarlan lifted his glass, such endless shadows dancing in his eyes, but--there. A glimmer of life. "To freedom."” esp. as he helps raise up women in positions of power to do so as well! (We love a King ally)

Much like Aelin growing into a queen you see the shift as Dorian becomes a King. “Never again. Never again would he be weak and useless and frightened.” (From a quote I appreciated and found Nesta paralells in). “To her surprise, a king smiled back.” And I just hope somewhere along the way Dorian also finds his happy ending much like our queen is slowly finding a way too (like Rowan said; “You will find your way, too, Dorian. You'll find your way out.”); I think Manon is promising, I think he finally has a real family, & he’s learning his power which is good; his already Kingly skills also come in handy, they needed a diplomat. And for two characters I love so much, a genre that rarely shows good friendships between so many characters and guys having emotions and bonding beyond a love interest trope… I just loved it! p.s. thanks again @ mysterylilycheeta for fandoming about this one with me (and many others :-)

Now speaking of Dorian quotes (plus I needed a transition lol) much like Dorian I do sometimes miss Chaol; “"You know," he said, "sometimes I wish Chaol were here to help me. And then sometimes I'm glad he's not, so he wouldn't be at risk again. I'm glad he's in Antica with Nesryn.”while also being glad he’s off somewhere else… not just ‘cause of the injury (I actually hope they don’t make that THE “problem”, at least in the sense of making him “useless”. While healing in a magical realm is a useful skill, representation of disabled characters in the read world is also really important & still super kick-ass & powerful)… So, I’m glad he’s gone not for that but for the fact I think his mentality would conflict right now (& while Aelin isn’t always right; & does sometimes need a check as Aedion aforementioned & does this at least better thank Chaol in timing & how) + most of the time ya kinda need to just “keep calm & trust the process” because while “the gods may have some “masterplan” & only Aelin can outsmart & outplan them (you just have to let her go for it)… and hopefully Elide will be there to help soon!

Now speaking of good friends, & the rest of this post from “threads of fate”, to really loving characters, friendships, relationships (even most of my favorite quotes) it’s time to address THE SHIP because there is ROWAELIN. TRULY WHERE DO I START? I love them. They are perfect. Nothing can break them (Nothing better try). I love the peace & hope they hold for the other (they want more together, for each other; to live.). The balance they carry; especially when one is down, the other lifts them up (even rapidly flipping; I’m a few Chapters into Part 2 (spoiler sentence)🚨 & there’s the moment where it goes from her being on fire & him waking her from her nightmares, to him so panicked to save her he’s freezing the room & she’s soothing him). The way they are so alike, & shown even more so (as I’ve briefly mentioned) in this book (Rowan having some Celaena moments, her taking on a leader & diplomatic role, learning to control water & him teaching her to heal, exploring each others histories & a growing team of friends for & with them) & VERY different (they are the balance even in what they do share; for instance a scene I think on frequently: when Rowan leaves to go get Dorian, and Aelin cannot let him go. Right there she uses very specific words; she does not ask him to stay instead she says she cannot let him go; because she knows asking him to stay (like Lyria had begged) would kill him or telling him “he’s leaving her” would utterly destroy them both. And he does the same; he distracts her (knows what she needs) takes a moment for them (stops the clock) kisses her and then leaves before she opens her eyes in a flash, so she does not have to watch him leave (again), or (be the one to) walk away from him (he knows she already used all of her will to even have him go in the first place, she cannot ask anything more or she will not ask at all), or run again. They both are feeling the same thing, while understanding the differences they have experienced, they take the notice to love the other the way they need & the only way they can). Part of it stems from something I’ve adressed on the blog before, the honesty they share; and desperately needed. Or have discussed with other fans in beyond that the fact they trust, they can have it all on the table, and respect what has to be kept. Part is the fact they are the others soulmate (waiting for those words: “mate” to “officially” & finally seal what we ALL know by now😂). Another being the threads of fate every character keeps seeing; they are VERY tightly bound beyond separation; for better or worse a tangled knot that can not be undone.

The way in that they would fight by the others side, live & die together, for each-other. They would save the world for each-other (like Rowan jumping in front of the moonfire because he knew her fiery soul; “"No!" The word was a roar, a plea, and silver and green flashed in her vision. A name. A name clanged through her as he hurled himself in the path of that fist, that moonfire, not just to save those innocents in the city, but to spare her soul from the agony if she destroyed them all-Rowan.” — “"If you had destroyed that city, it would have destroyed you, and any sort of hope at an alliance."”) It goes beyond taking a bullet for the other, it goes to taking a bullet from the other (you see that side a lot in HoF). They would save the other for the world (like he says, the world needs alliances; because he knows it needs her, his queen). Or the other from the world; “And as his face became clear, his tattoo stark in the sun, as that fist full of unimaginable power now opened toward his heart-There was no force in any world that could keep her contained.” Together, to whatever end. They would even destroy it for the other; “But if it was death separating us … I would find you. I don’t care how many rules it would break. Even if I had to get all three keys myself and open a gate, I would find you again. Always.” They deserve something that’s an always, known, world & gods defying. And while I appreciate the way they defend each other, I also appreciate the way they defend their friends together; it may be them to whatever end, but it’s also not just them against the world (more so for the world?) they may be capable of destroying the world for each other, still they choose to give everything to save it. They choose each other, they continue to do so, to accept, to be honest. “Even if this thing between them ... even if he knew it was not mere lust, or even just love. This thing between them, the force of it, could devour the world. And if they picked it, picked them, it might very well cause the end of it.” they have a powerful love (one that is quite literally more powerful together). I love that scene too, the carranam; the way he steadies her (he knows why the manacles scare her, knows how to help her breathe despite it; “she is not afraid”), trusts her (she could kill them both, but he believes in her, always has, even before she believed in herself) gives her his power (talk about a feminist ally😂 he literally uses his power to give her more power), and she blazes the world (better & worse); she trusts him enough for the irons (something she may have killed someone else for), she trusts his trust in her (it empowers her metaphorically too), trusts him to save her from herself; trusts him which as this line shows; “"You trust nothing. She met his eyes. "I trust you."” is almost a miracle in itself. I love the easy rhythm they fall into like breathing, simple domesticity (even among war), natural understanding (soulmates), gentle unconditional stubborn & unchanging love that simply is. & is accepted as such. Learning more of their history in parallels & new perspectives, tales & legends, chaos & opposites (especially opposed in power) FIRE & ICE and remains the “meant to be” Carranam; though one of a kind it also understands itself in being love among grief, giving it the ability to see & soothe the unhealthy internal monologues… in a way that’s honestly kinda healing to read; I love their quotes, I love their scenes, I love their characters, I just love them.

It’s been fun to see more Aelin as Aelin, (and I’m not meaning “The one in green smiled, but for all its delight, all its wicked mischief ... It was a softer smile, made with a mouth that was perhaps less used to snarling and teeth-baring and getting away with saying hideous, swaggering things. Lysandra, then. The two queens faced Rolfe.” Lysandra twin-swap scene 😂) the way Celaena is now recognized as a part to play; “You met Aelin when she was still pretending to be Celaena” — “Because it was Celaena who sat here-for whatever purpose, it was Celaena Sardothien in this room.” from the way Rowan helped & accepted her all along. Rowan has always been her protector, her guard, her best champion, fiercest warrior & love, her dearest friend, her everything. It’s the one that saw all & loved anyways “to have one person who knew the absolute truth about her--and didn't hate her for it.” — “I see you, I see every part of you. And I am not afraid.” he is not afraid of her; the first time she’s ever had that… Something she desperately needs as someone so fear-based… She went from being a child who was never not afraid; she was taught to fear her power, fear the secret coming free, because she would be persecuted; because her people would not love her for what she was; she was protected against it and taught her powers weren’t to be trusted. She spent so long burying herself… Arobynn taught her that; created a world of only that for her to exist in, only to survive never to live. And as I’ve said before I LOVE SAM, I truly think he would have accepted her without flinching (I love & believe in the many soulmates for many lives theories; he was Celaena’s) but over & over again the saddest four words of almost they never had time. Thinking someone would love you “even if” is different that getting to experience it, she was still afraid he would turn her in or turn away, he would judge her as she judged herself, or didn’t know “how dark she could go”; like he was too good and she would drag him down. And here is Rowan: the one person who could stop her (the dark comfort she takes in knowing he could save the world if she endangered it; “That is how I was able to stand before the King of Adarlan, how I was able to befriend his son and his captain, how I was able to live in that palace. Because I did not give that rage, those memories, one inch. And right now I am looking for the tools that might destroy my enemy, and I cannot let out the monster, because it will make me use those tools against the king, not put them back as I should--and I might very well destroy the world for spite. So that is why l must be Celaena, not Aelin--because being Aelin means facing those things, and unleashing that monster. Do you understand?”) and doesn’t think that of her; “For whatever it's worth, I don't think you would destroy the world from spite.”

To the moment on the beach that strikes me again & again; Aelin in her rawest state (inner child & traumatized immortal), sobbing, unclothed (a very important detail not because of the rest of Chapter 38 spice but because of the psychological component; she is stripped down to her core at her worst, most vulnerable, visibly terrified uncomfortable state; it’s more like a nightmare of giving a speech & realizing your the only one without clothes), on fire (no hidden power or sense of control), unleashing an entire storm (after almost destroying the world; her world; even against her will); because she is Aelin Ashryver Galathynius “the rightful heir of fire” and Queen of Terrasen; she has been “Adarlans Assassin” & a “King’s Champion” Lillian, Elentiya, Celaena… all of these names… and yet, she is still afraid. And she cannot stop it; she is trying & failing, feeling every step backwards for every step she takes, she is running to nowhere, she is lost. And then there is Rowan. Rowan, who walked to the creak to see her, and went loudly so she would know & not be afraid. Rowan who knows when she needs to let off steam (literally) & has been burned & still does not turn away from her. Rowan who now is “silent as death” because he knows her mind is already screaming enough for the both of them. Rowan who follows her; over & over, unflinching, returning, staying, seeing, & still believing in her (even before she believed in herself; even when she cannot). She is begging for anyone that listens to take the job & all its “blessings & burdens of power”, wishing for a bottom to the endless abyss of her power, drowning in it; helpless in her own strength, because she does not trust herself (how can she when she can’t even be herself; not just Celaena; but Deanna), trying to run from herself. And Rowan who sees, hears, knows; and only cares about her. Choosing her. Loving her. Telling her those words. Arguing against the voices in her head for her; making her feel for a moment that maybe somehow she’s worth it (or at least too lucky to care even if she’s not). Because he has every reason to go; he knows what he could lose (even as they stand there; he is still shaken & terrified; he just saw a god steal the woman he loves from her own mind; he has no idea how to fight that & bring her back) He has lost that; felt it for centuries The world may be the price, they may be the price, they are in the middle of a war waged & waiting for hundreds of years; and he does not care. He only cares about her; better & worse. And she is not alone; never again. Reminding her that she can be both, staying on the road. As he says (a quote that made me cry): “You and I will learn to manage your power together. You do not face this alone; you do not decide that you are unlovable because you have powers that can save and destroy. If you start to resent that power… I don’t know where we go on that road.” And when she voices it, that fear (that brought me to tears); you’re just crazy for loving me.“"Because I'm the only one arrogant and insane enough to ask Mala Fire-Bringer to let me stay with the woman I love. Her flames turned to pure gold at the words-at that word. But she said, "Perhaps you're just the only one arrogant and insane enough to love me."” He simply, firmly, undoubtably, says no. … And when the times comes; when he creates a snow storm of his own (& destroys half a forrest😂) she just laughs, holds him closer, kisses him again. As she says; “who would not look at those flames with any ounce of fear.” as anyone else would have. They aren’t afraid of each other, they aren’t afraid, not together. “But Rowan had caught her each time she had fallen-first, when she had plummeted into that abyss of despair and grief; second, when that castle had shattered and she had plunged to the earth. And now this time, this third time ... She was not afraid.”

And because they are equal, because they will go to whatever end, because they pull each other back over & over whenever/wherever they drift. (And while I love Lyria, I believe she was one of his soulmates) I don’t think anyone ever understood him so well in return… Rowan loved Lyria. Lyria wanted him to stay for good reason, but he was not able to tire to rest to settle; she did not understand the warrior; just as he couldn’t understand enough not to be. Where peace was never quite had, the warrior that could not rest; there is Aelin. Who just goes to war with him, for him, for them. She is his hope, his queen, his love, his world, his fireheart🥹, & his everything (& thankfully NOT because of the blood-oath; “"How does she do it?" Aelin asked baldly. "With Rowan, it's not ... Every order I give him, even casual ones, are his to decide what to do with. Only when I actively pull on the bond can I get him to ... yield. And even then it's more of a suggestion." "It is different with her," Gavriel said softly. "Dependent on the ruler it is sworn to. You two took the oath to each other with love in your hearts. You had no desire to own or rule him." Aelin tried not to flinch at the truth of that word—love. That day ... when Rowan had looked into her eyes as he drank her blood ... she'd started to realize what it was. That the feeling that passed between them, so powerful there was no language to describe it ... It was not mere friendship, but something born of and strengthened by it.” glad they clarified that to give consent). I’ve said this about them before and I’ll say it again there is something healing in how wholly they accept and understand each other (to the point you would think they are reading minds), how evenly matched and equal they are. They are two of the best matched characters I know of; at times even to a fault (but even that is taken in stride). Aelin and Rowan are everything they have ever been with the other. This isn’t a comparison, there’s something beautiful to each of them (I’ll even still say that to Dorian & Aelin, the way their friendship came to be, and re-reads what might have been) there is just the fact that this is different and I think it’s a special kind of something. And the fact in the matching for the other they can go to the ends of the earth together; whether it be as Queen and Prince (though he would make a good king ;-) or assassins, gentle souls trying to rest, never at rest but trying for peace, fae and shifters fire and ice, warriors, martyrs, saviors, villains, Kings Champion & Maeve’s Cadre, friends, mates, whatever it may be “to whatever end”.

I especially love them in the little things… all these moments that show everything I’ve said and more.

The detail in Rowan knowing the other side to Aelin keeping him at the beach, and it not taking away from the moment. He knows, he accepts it. They know the layers, they don’t pretend otherwise, they don’t run or fight it, they just sit with it. The way he held her & grounded her during the sea battle, believing in her even as she lost her balance in power, the way she came back from Deanna for him, the way she held on to him through the storm. She reminds him what he is; that he is everything she needs, she doesn’t take the bullshit, she doesn’t give up; she lends a hand, or lets him follow, or defends him. And they finally said it; I love you. — Actually better than that, worlds best quote award of: “I love you. There is no limit to what I can give to you, no time I need. Even when this world is a forgotten whisper of dust between the stars, I will love you.”They finally chose this, them; and the world needed it (I will go down with the ship of them as queen and king). … So, my shippers heart is happy, I want more, I’m happy they’re happy, I want them to stay happy. They are the best brightest threads of fate & for a book I’ve loved to see tie together, the Rowaelin ship has been pretty perfect.

And some random notes I keep wondering on:

The color green in this series… From Lysandra’s eyes (the one marker she keeps in each form; funny as it’s also Terrasen (her future Courts) color, to Rowan’s pine green (& often “home” like Terrasen descriptions (once again)) to the green roofing of Rifthold, or tiling of the desert, the stolen wax stamp rings, Terrasen’s color, etc. … it’s just used to tell a lot of story & I find it a fun note!

On the subject of these “fun notes” I’d also like to Mention Maasverse “deals” in wording; I find it so interesting how carefully phrased (like a genie) things need to be, yet kept to their word they are. I feel like there’s some loopholes within some plots right now using that clause (if only there was Mort to prove it!)… I miss Mort…

There’s all of Lysandra’s shapeshifting, the character in that, her character all together. And then moments like Rowan reaching her to fly, to have her own wings. And introducing more powers outside of fae.

Fenyrs possible… winnowing? Whatever reason it was that Rowan sent him to save Aelin instead of himself (obviously meaning he was more capable because Rowan would save her any means necessary).

And these aforementioned threads of fate are pretty brilliantly done, I look forward to continuing to enjoy them. From Oakwald to 10 years ago to the detail of plans (Aelin going to the temple, for Brannon & the Dragon, & her territory claim… etc.)… SO MANY!!!

Especially because of YOU!..

— Final, biggest most important book/fandom thought yet: —

THANK YOU to the Maasverse!

As someone who doesn’t know anyone reading these —one of my favorite things to do is talk about them with other fans— I’m thankful to still have that; I’m thankful that tumblr has that; and thankful that y’all are so welcoming, kind, talented, & lovely! (Limiting full tags as this post is ridiculously long and no one should “have” to read it😂)

There’s a long list of you, to name a few (others please know you are still on the list, loved & appreciated)!! @ archerons-elain @ highladyelenna @ iwantavaldezinator @ romantasyreader28 @ antvwinderbaum @ shadowhunters77 @ chaos-on-stand-bi @ theauroragalaxy @ impossibelle @ aelin-fire-heart @ autumnbabylon @ headboymalfoy @ somebooksbelonginthesinbin @ idfendyr @ winged-artistic-wolf @ batter-upp @ cheap-spirits @ just tsteffs50cts @ xxvalkyriesxx @ captain-of-the-gwynriel-ship @ lynnsthoughts @ maevecrom @ stingy-swann @ mothlvrtothemoon @ wannaberachelgrxxn @ sweetokami @ avymiir

& so if I missed any, like I said just know you are so appreciated🫶 … and sorry I get confused sometimes (as this is technically a secondary blog to @lavendarneverlands lol😂). It’s always me though🤣

[tangledinink]

my brain is like “we can’t possibly go to sleep we haven’t made nearly enough progress on this comic yet” and I’m like. hey bestie I’m just saying? we already posted a new comic today. and yesterday. and two days before that. and two days before that. and the day before that, too, so like. i think we’re ok actually.

[gigantomachy1916]

Okay I've been on my genderswap shit lately but I'm starting to think that if I want someone to write fem!Mello/Near I'm going to have to do it myself. (Though maybe I should ever actually finish that regular Mello/Near oneshot I was playing with first...)

[into-fiction]

If you like postcanon you should try just the part of me I can’t let go. But just as a fun fic you could try the author therestisconfetti. They’re so good. I’ve can rec you though and usually I do haha

Ooo thanks, I LOVE post canon. Mostly bc it heals the tiny part of me that breaks every time I think about how tragic and doomed gelphie is lmao.

I’ll give these a shot!

[c-kiddo]

oh right ye! i thought i missed those posters but ye they are still in stock, its just £22 for shipping which is soo much for 1 thing. . its more worth it if you order a bunch of stuff and then figure out how to keep it in a lower weight category to keep the shipping cost reasonable , but then you have to worry about customs and etc.... .. i do really like that poster tho, had it as my screensaver for a bit. i have a lost wisdom CD i got on ebay though, and the drawing on the cover is nice so theres that at least :-) its just a neat little cardboard sleeve with only the cd inside lol

also yess feel this sm. i dont have a record player (my dad does at least) and records are expensive so i have a little phil elverum CD collection instead. also i just like cd's. but, yea yeayea exactly all the design of it all makes me want to own some of the records like as art pieces as well as physical copies.. i think from what i've seen that Dawn has interesting things, like a little zine book in it? i'm not sure which others i'd want records of.. oh ye. the Mount Eerie (the microphones album) cd has a cool poster that doubles as the cover of it . see. i might frame it if i can find a big/cheap enough frame

i have like , a saved idea of things i'll buy if i get stuff from th shop , like a copy of A crow looked at me. and i kind of would like the Karl & Geneviève (7") because i like the song volcanologie but also the boar print on it is just rly cool haha. also her book Roulathèque Roulathèque Nicolore would be nice to have. i will have to brave the shipping costs someday. yea.. ok this is an infodump now again . its my blog i get to choose the infodump

[harry-sussex]

In case anyone was wondering - The Royal Family official website has photographic proof that I had major heart eyes for William too (on the right with the flowers). Literally covering my face in awe.

[cavillscurls]

Popping in to let you know that very time I’m feeling frisky my mind immediately thinks about Eyes On Me. Literally the hottest thing I’ve ever read and it’s imprinted in my brain forever.

K bye

❤️

MWAHAHA !! my pride and joyyyy 😈

i honestly think about that fic all the time lmao. i don’t know what got into me that day, but if i could just get a morsel of it for my current fics, id be so grateful. im so glad you like it. freaks forever yk.

(x)

[someonegoood]

I’m not a kid! pt. 1 ✫ jeon jungkook

in which you’ve always had a hopeless crush on your brother’s best friend, Jungkook, who’s made it painfully clear he doesn’t feel the same—until a family vacation forces buried emotions to the surface.

CONTAINS: brother’s best friend troop, angst & fluff ! idolverse, age gap, arguments, jungkook is an ass with reader, making out…

NOTE: i’ll upload part 2 later… someday!! this work is not revised and english is not my first language :)

part 1, part 2.

my main masterlist! ❀

The salty breeze of Busan’s coastline always carried the scent of the ocean and the faint cries of seagulls circling above. The city was alive with contrasts: the bustling fish markets that lined the shore and the quiet charm of the winding streets that climbed up the hills.

For Jungkook, Busan had always been home. The neighbourhood where he grew up wasn’t particularly special, but it was familiar—a place where kids spent endless summers playing soccer at the nearby park. That’s where he first met Minho.

Minho, your older brother, was the kind of boy everyone gravitated towards. He was a social butterfly while Jungkook was a shy eight-year-old, reluctant to join in but unable to resist Minho’s easygoing charisma.

“You’re on my team, Jeon,” Minho had declared one afternoon, tossing a worn-out soccer ball to Jungkook without waiting for a response.

From that day on, the two were inseparable. They shared everything: snacks bought from corner stores, secrets whispered during sleepovers, and dreams about what they wanted to be when they grew up.

That’s how you came into the picture.

You were Minho’s little sister, always tagging along, much to Jungkook’s annoyance. You were the sunshine to Minho’s confident energy, with an eternal optimism that made everyone crack a smile. But to him, you were just Minho’s sister—someone to tolerate because you came with the package.

Instead, over the years, your bubbly nature and obvious admiration for Jungkook became harder for him to ignore. You lingered on the sidelines of their soccer matches, offering water bottles and clapping too enthusiastically when he scored a goal. You laughed at his jokes even when they weren’t funny and gave him small, thoughtful gifts on his birthday—things like handmade keychains or little notes tucked into envelopes.

And while Minho teased you endlessly about your obvious crush, Jungkook’s reaction was always more severe. He hated it—not because he didn’t like you, but because he didn’t know how to like you. That made everything infinitely more complicated.

So, he did what he thought was best: he pushed you away.

NINE YEARS AGO…

The evening had the magic that only Busan nights could conjure: warm, salty air and the soft glow of lanterns strung along the bustling street-side restaurant.

Your family and the Jeons had planned this dinner weeks ago, a casual gathering to catch up and enjoy good food before Jungkook left for another training session in Seoul.

“I’m moving to Seoul,” he announced some years ago at your family’s barbecue, his tone casual, as if he hadn’t just shattered your world.

Your heart sank.

“For what?” your brother asked, genuinely curious.

Jungkook’s lips curled into the smallest of smiles. “To be a trainee. BigHit is giving me a shot.”

You froze, the words hitting you harder than you expected. He hadn’t told you. He hadn’t even hinted at it. That night, you cried alone in your room. You felt betrayed: that was your only dream since childhood. Eventually he left Busan to become a trainee, which had made you wonder if you’ll ever have an opportunity in the industry.

The long, wooden table was nestled under a canopy of fairy lights, with plates of grilled fish, spicy tteokbokki, and steaming bowls of jjigae scattered across its surface. You sat beside Jungkook, not by choice but because the seating arrangement had worked out that way. Your mother was chatting animatedly with Mrs. Jeon, and your brother Minho was in a heated debate with Jungkook’s older brother about which soccer team was superior.

You couldn’t focus. Not with Jungkook so close, his presence filling the air between you. He was dressed casually in a black hoodie and jeans, his dark hair slightly messy from the seaside breeze. He was scrolling through his phone, barely acknowledging you, but you could feel the heat radiating from his shoulder whenever it brushed yours.

As the clock neared midnight, the temperature dropped. You rubbed your arms, the thin pink cardigan you’d worn doing little to ward off the chill. You tried to focus on the conversation, but your shivering gave you away.

“Are you cold?” your mom asked from across the table, concern in her eyes.

“I’m fine,” you lied quickly, forcing a smile.

But you weren’t fine, and Jungkook noticed your trembling.

Later, when the two families were chatting, you hesitated for a moment and then glanced at him. “Can I… borrow your hoodie?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper.

He blinked, clearly caught off guard. “What?”

“Your hoodie,” you repeated, trying to sound casual. “I’m freezing here.”

He stared at you for a second longer than necessary, his lips pressing into a thin line. Then, without a word, he pulled the hoodie over his head, his black t-shirt riding up slightly to reveal a toned stomach. You quickly looked away, heat rushing to your cheeks.

“Here,” he muttered, holding it out to you.

You slipped it on, the fabric warm and smelling faintly of his cologne—a mix of citrus and vanilla. It was far too big on you, the sleeves hanging past your fingertips, but it was comforting nonetheless.

“Thanks,” you said softly, stealing a glance at him.

He shrugged, his expression unreadable. “It’s just a hoodie.”

But as the night went on, you noticed little things. How he subtly shifted closer when the breeze picked up. How his knee brushed against yours under the table, and he didn’t pull away. How, when he thought no one was looking, his gaze lingered on you a second too long.

And maybe, just maybe, it wasn’t just a hoodie after all.

That dinner had stirred something in you. Maybe it was the way Jungkook had handed you his hoodie without hesitation or the bubble gum scent on it. Whatever it was, the feelings swirling inside you.

SEVEN YEARS AGO…

It all started at one of Minho’s infamous parties. The room was crowded, music pumping, and you tried your best to enjoy yourself but the thought of being there just because you were Minho's sister made you cringe. That was until you saw Jungkook laughing in the corner with his friends. He had got back from Seoul a few days ago because his company gave him some free days.

Your chest tightened as you saw him. It was impossible to ignore how Jungkook’s carefree laughter carried across the room, pulling you into a spiral of softness. You retreated to the kitchen, determined to drown your emotions in a cup of punch. That’s where Juwon found you, one of your brother's friends.

"Stop pouting," he teased, ruffling your hair. "What’s wrong, kid?"

You shrink at the thought of being called a "kid". "I’m not a kid," you snapped, pulling away. "And nothing’s wrong."

Juwon didn’t believe you, but before he could pry further, Jungkook walked in. His sharp jawline, dark eyes, and smirk made your heart skip a beat.

"Juwon-ah," Jungkook greeted casually before his gaze flicked to you. "What’s with the long face? Did someone steal your crayons?"

Your jaw tightened, and Juwon chuckled. "She’s sulking about something. Probably got dumped." You glared at him, but Jungkook’s smirk only widened.

"Dumped?" Jungkook tilted his head mockingly. "You’d have to date someone for that to happen, kid."

That was the last straw.

"Stop, I’m not a kid!" you snapped, slamming your cup onto the counter. "I’m not some little girl you can just mock whenever you feel like it, Jungkook!"

The room went silent, tension crackling between you. Jungkook’s smirk faltered, replaced by something unreadable. Juwon shifted uncomfortably, sensing he’d made a mistake by staying.

"Alright..." Juwon muttered. "I’m leaving you two to... whatever this is." When he left, Jungkook leaned against the counter, his eyes narrowing as he studied you.

"You’re really something, aren’t you?" he said, his voice low. "Always so desperate to prove yourself. What are you trying to prove this time? That you’re all grown up?"

You felt the sting of his words but refused to back down.

His jaw tightened, and for a moment, you thought he might actually apologize. Instead, he muttered, "You’re too young to understand."

"Stop using that excuse!" you shot back. "I’m not a kid anymore, and you don’t get to decide how I feel!" The argument hung in the air like a storm ready to break. Jungkook opened his mouth to respond but closed it again, his expression darkened immediately. He went closer to you, his height suddenly making the space between you feel even smaller.

“Are you kidding right now?” he asked, his tone cold. Your noses were almost touching.

Your heart sank and you closed your eyes. “I… I just want to be serious. For once.”

“Serious?” His voice rose, sharp and cutting. “Kid, you'll never be.”

The words hit you like a slap. You blinked rapidly, trying to process the sudden shift in his demeanour.

“I don’t need this,” he continued, his frustration spilling out. “I don’t need you trying to play house or whatever weird crush you’ve got going on. Stop wasting your time on me. You’re just a little kid.”

Your chest tightened the sting of his words bringing tears to your eyes.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered, your voice trembling. The cup you were holding was long forgotten.

"You’re... impossible, stubborn, and way too good for someone like me." Your breath hitched as his hand brushed against yours.

"Kook..."

He pulled back suddenly, as if afraid of what might happen next. "We can’t," he muttered, more to himself than to you. But before he could walk away, you grabbed his wrist.

"You’re an idiot," you said, tears pricking your eyes. "But if you walk away now, you’re proving me right."

Jungkook froze, his expression conflicted. Then, in one swift motion, he closed the distance between you, his lips crashing onto yours. He began to kiss you, gently biting on your lower lip trying to make you open your mouth. You had never, in your whole life, thought Jungkook would be kissing you.

The kiss was messy, desperate, and everything you’d imagined it would be. One hand on your waist gripping you tightly, rubbing circles with his thumb as his other hand is gently holding the side of your face.

Jungkook began to press kisses along the length of your neck, stopping just above your jawline.

“That feels nice,” you blushed.

He chuckled as he leant in towards you, brushing his hand against your cheek. When he pulled away, his forehead rested against yours, his voice shaky.

“We can’t… You know we can’t.”

Once again, his eyes travelled to your lips but before he could kiss you he turned quickly, rushing back into the living room before you broke down completely.

Or so he thought. That was the first time Jeon Jungkook kissed you.

That night, sitting alone in your room with tear-streaked cheeks and a heart that felt both shattered and strangely free, you made a decision: it was time to focus on yourself.

Becoming an idol had always been your dream. You remembered the exact moment you decided this was what you wanted—a moment of clarity during a school talent show when the cheers of the crowd and the spotlight on you felt like home.

But dreaming of something and pursuing it were two entirely different things.

When you told your family you wanted to audition, they smiled indulgently, thinking it was a phase. Your brother, ever protective, had scoffed, telling you to "be realistic." Jungkook, who was still part of your life, had smirked and asked, "Are you trying to be me? Do you even know how hard life my is?"

And he was right.

Auditioning for agencies was gruelling. There were days when you faced rejection after rejection, each one feeling like a crack in the foundation of your confidence. You’d wake up at 5 a.m. for practice sessions, juggling school, part-time jobs, and long hours of singing and dancing in a cramped studio. Every week, you had to convince yourself to keep going when everything in you screamed to quit.

The hardest part, though, wasn’t the physical exhaustion—it was the emotional toll.

Friendships began to slip away, you missed birthdays, family dinners, and countless moments that made your hometown feel like home. Moving to Seoul for training was bittersweet. You were chasing your dream, but it felt like leaving behind pieces of yourself.

Training wasn’t glamorous, either. There were days when your trainers yelled at you for missing a note or a beat, and you’d spend nights in the dorm crying into your pillow, wondering if you’d ever be good enough. Some trainees around you gave up, packing their bags and leaving without a word. But you stayed because deep down, you knew this was what you were meant to do.

And then, one day, after years of relentless hard work, you got a call from BigHit. You had been selected to debut. You and the four other girls you’d grown close to over endless practice hours were going to be idols.

But with gaining fame came him.

Jungkook had debuted first, of course, with BTS. And every time you crossed paths at the company, at award shows or music programs, he made it clear he wasn’t thrilled about it.

It was a surreal moment as you and your group—Mimi, Sky, Nari, and Yunjin—stepped into the large studio for the BigHit family photoshoot. The air buzzed with energy as staff members rushed to set up lighting and cameras. You were dressed in coordinating white outfits, your makeup and hair perfected to the last detail, but none of it stopped the nervous flutter in your stomach.

The nerves only intensified when you saw BTS already gathered near the set, their laughter and chatter filling the room. It wasn’t the first time you’d seen them; in fact, you’d met the members long before they became global sensations, back when Jungkook was still a trainee.

Taehyung and Jin had always been the most welcoming, making an effort to befriend you during those early, uncertain days of training. You had countless memories of Taehyung showing you silly tricks to lighten your mood and Jin bringing snacks to share after practice sessions. Even now, they greeted you with warm smiles, as if no time had passed at all.

Taehyung waved enthusiastically as you approached. "Look at you! All grown up now."

You laughed, cheeks flushing. "And you haven’t changed a bit, Tae."

But the moment your eyes landed on Jungkook, your breath hitched. He stood near the backdrop, hands tucked in his pockets, looking impossibly good in his fitted suit. His gaze met yours briefly, and he gave a small nod, his expression unreadable.

You had seen him a few weeks ago at a family lunch back in Busan, but every encounter still carried a weight you couldn’t quite shake.

"Alright, everyone!" The photographer clapped his hands, gathering everyone’s attention. "We’re starting with the full group shots. BTS and our newest girl group, together."

Your heart sank. You weren’t sure you could survive being this close to Jungkook, especially under the teasing gaze of your members and his.

As the groups began to arrange themselves, chaos ensued. Jin insisted on being in the middle, Taehyung joked about needing his best angle, and your leader, Mimi, declared she wouldn’t stand anywhere near Namjoon because he was too tall. Amid the commotion, you somehow ended up right next to Jungkook.

You tried not to panic as you felt his body press against your back in the cramped arrangement, and you swore you could feel the heat radiating off him.

"Y/N," Sky whispered, barely containing her laughter. "You’re blushing."

"Shut up," you hissed back, but your cheeks betrayed you, turning even redder.

"Look at them," Jimin teased loudly, his voice drawing everyone’s attention. "Our maknaes! Should we make room for you two?"

"Jimin," you groaned, burying your face in your hands.

Sky and Nari joined in, giggling as they exchanged knowing looks with BTS’s members. Even Yoongi couldn’t resist chiming in. "Let’s make a maknae photo. Everyone else, move aside!"

The teasing only worsened as the photographer tried to get everyone to focus. Jungkook remained quiet through it all, his expression unreadable, but you were hyper-aware of his proximity.

After what felt like an eternity, he finally spoke.

"Enough," Jungkook said, his voice firm but not harsh. The room fell silent, and all eyes turned to him.

He looked down at you, his expression softening. "Let’s just take the photo, okay?"

You nodded, too flustered to say anything. The teasing subsided after that, and the rest of the shoot went smoothly, though you couldn’t stop your heart from racing every time Jungkook shifted beside you.

As the session wrapped up, Taehyung leaned over and whispered in your ear, "He still cares, you know."

You didn’t respond, but the lingering warmth of Jungkook’s presence and the memory of his quiet defence stayed with you long after the photoshoot ended.

The photoshoot felt like a blur in your memory, but one moment lingered vividly—Jungkook standing beside you, his quiet presence both overwhelming and grounding. When he had stepped in to silence the teasing, you’d felt a warmth you couldn’t explain. It wasn’t just his defence but the softness in his eyes, the unspoken understanding that had stayed with you.

Since then, things between you have been… complicated. Jungkook was still distant most of the time, his words often cold, but there were cracks in his armour. Small, fleeting moments where his gaze softened or his words carried a hint of something deeper.

Now, backstage at the award show, the weight of his presence pressed on you like a phantom. You hadn’t exchanged more than a glance, but his impact lingered, just like it always did.

“Okay, so who’s the most nervous?” Nari teased, trying to break the tension as your group sat in a quiet corner.

“Not me,” Sky declared, though her knuckles were white around her water bottle.

“What about our maknae?” Mimi leaned closer to you. “You’ve been off all morning. Thinking about Jungkook again?”

You groaned, rolling your eyes as the others giggled. “I’m not,” you lied, though the heat rising to your cheeks betrayed you.

“You totally are,” Yunjin added, poking your side. “He’s got you all flustered, and he hasn’t even spoken to you yet.”

Before you could respond, Taehyung and Jin appeared, their easy smiles immediately lightening the mood.

“Ladies, looking stunning as always,” Taehyung greeted, his tone playful as ever.

Jin offered his signature kind smile. “Nervous? Don’t be. You’ll do great.”

Their presence was a welcome distraction, and you couldn’t help but laugh when Taehyung dramatically declared, “We’re here to protect you from Jungkook’s glaring.”

But the laughter was short-lived. Across the room, Jungkook leaned against the wall, his sharp gaze fixed on you. When Jin ruffled your hair, earning a bright laugh from you, Jungkook’s jaw tightened.

You swallowed the lump in your throat, forcing yourself to focus on the performance ahead. But just as you steadied yourself, he approached the group.

“Hey,” Jungkook called softly.

Everyone turned, surprised to see him standing next to you, his expression unreadable but his tone lacking its usual sharpness. He grabbed your wrist and pulled you inside your group's dressing room.

“Don’t let me ruin this for you,” he said, his voice so low you could bearly hear him. “You’re… good at this. Just do your thing.”

It wasn’t an apology for everything he had done, but it was something.

Your eyes searched his, looking for any trace of malice, but all you found was a flicker of uncertainty. For the first time in what felt like forever, his walls seemed to lower, if only slightly.

“Thanks,” you said quietly, unsure of what else to say.

As he walked out, Yunjin sidled up beside you, a knowing grin on her face. “What did Jungkook say?”

“Nothing important,” you lied, though your heart told a different story.

“Sure,” she teased.

The words stayed with you as you stepped onto the stage, ready to perform. Maybe Jungkook wasn’t the same boy you’d once known, but beneath the cold exterior, there was still something there. Something worth holding onto.

The night of your group’s single release party was supposed to be a celebration. The venue buzzed with excitement, filled with industry friends, labelmates, and staff. Your group were the stars of the evening, basking in the glow of your latest success. You’d worked tirelessly for months, and now, you deserved to let loose.

You flitted around the party, sharing laughs, clinking glasses, and posing for photos with everyone who came to congratulate you. But a familiar tension brewed in your chest, one you tried to ignore as much as you could.

It didn’t help when Jungkook and his members arrived.

You didn't expect him to come, even though he’d been the first on your personal list. Yet there he was, standing near the bar in a sleek dark outfit, grey jeans and a black oversized t-shirt that fitted him nicely. His gaze found yours almost instantly, but he didn’t approach. Instead, he stayed rooted in place, sipping his drink and chatting casually with Hoseok.

“Babes,” Sky called, tugging you out of your thoughts. “You good?”

“Yeah,” you lied, forcing a smile. “I’m fine.”

But the truth was, Jungkook’s presence threw you off. The history between you—complicated and unresolved—lingered like an unspoken storm. His quiet indifference always hurt more than it should have.

As the night wore on, you avoided him, focusing instead on celebrating with your group. You danced, laughed, and tried to push him out of your mind. But when you stepped outside for a moment of air, the cool breeze hit you, and so did the realization that he’d followed you.

“Couldn’t even last the whole party?” Jungkook’s voice carried a teasing edge, but there was a hesitation in his tone.

You scoffed, not turning to face him. “Why are you here, Jungkook?”

“To congratulate you,” he said, stepping closer. “Big night for you and the girls.”

You turned to find him standing a few feet away, hands tucked into his pockets. “Funny,” you muttered. “Didn’t think you cared.”

“I care,” Jungkook stepped closer, his gaze searching yours. “You’ve been avoiding me since the backstage moment.”

You laughed bitterly. “And you’ve been ignoring me for years. Why do you care now?”

His jaw tightened, and for a moment, neither of you spoke. The tension was palpable, years of unresolved feelings bubbling to the surface.

“I don’t ignore you, kid.” He said finally, his voice quieter.

“Could’ve fooled me,” you shot back, crossing your arms. “Every time I try to talk to you, you shut me out. Every time I think we’re okay, you push me away again.”

His gaze dropped to the ground, and for a moment, he looked almost guilty. “It’s not that simple.”

“Then make it simple,” you pressed, the frustration you’d bottled up for so long finally spilling out. “If you don’t want me in your life, just say so. Stop playing this game, Jungkook. I’m tired.”

His head snapped up, eyes locking onto yours with an intensity that made your breath catch. “Kid... I never wanted you out of my life.”

“Stop calling me 'kid'” you demanded, your voice breaking. “Why do you act like I don’t matter?”

“You matter,” he said, stepping closer. “You matter so much it scares the hell out of me.”

The admission hung in the air, heavy and raw. Your heart pounded as he closed the distance between you, his hand reaching up to brush a strand of hair from your face. You pulled away, tears brimming in your eyes.

“This doesn’t fix anything,” you whispered, your voice shaking.

“I know,” he said, his forehead resting against yours. “But I don’t know how to let you go.”

You stepped back, creating space between you. “You need to figure it out, Jungkook. Because I can’t keep doing this.”

The pain in his eyes mirrored your own, but neither of you said another word. You turned and walked back into the party, leaving him alone in the cold night.

"Let me take you home," he said. His tone was strong, not what you were used to. Still, the ride to your flat was silent, you sitting in the front with Jungkook while faint music played on the radio.

Jungkook’s jaw clenched, his knuckles turning white. “Did you really think you mean nothing to me?” You could only sob again, unable to answer him mainly because you were ashamed. When the car stopped, he unbuckled his seat belt and murmured that he would walk you to your door.

Jungkook rocked on his heels as he watched the moonlight highlight the tear-stained cheeks of his best friend's sister. He thought you looked beautiful that night even though you had been crying for the last half hour, your hair hadn't been brushed, and you were digging through your purse like crazy.

Although he would never admit it.

"I got them!" You laughed, waving your keys in the air before bumping your nose with the keychain. You paused as you pushed the key into the door, turning to look Jungkook in the eye for the first time since the party.

"Thank you," he didn't want to hear it. After all, you were just his best friend’s sister.

"It's no big deal."

After a moment, you dropped your bag to the floor and wrapped your arms around the boy's waist, your head resting on his chest as he quickly moved his hand and rubbed your back. He whispered, his chin resting on the top of your head.

"Goodnight."

It’s been two months since the party. When your mom first suggested a getaway, you thought it was the perfect idea to forget Jungkook’s situation. “You’ve been working too hard,” she had said over the phone, her voice tinged with concern. “A little break will do you good. Sunshine, good food, some family time—it’s exactly what you need.”

You’d been reluctant at first. The idea of slowing down felt foreign when your life had been moving at a breakneck pace for so long. But your mom’s persistence—and your own exhaustion—eventually won you over.

“We’ve already rented a villa by the beach,” she added, excitement in her tone. “Oh, and the Jeons will be joining us. It’ll be like the old days!”

The Jeons. You hadn’t heard that name in a while, but the memory of warm summer evenings spent with Jungkook’s family hit you like a wave. Your stomach sank as you considered the possibility of seeing him again.

“Do you mean the whole Jeon family?” you had asked hesitantly, trying to gauge just how much of a challenge this ‘relaxing’ trip would be.

“Of course!” your mom said brightly. “It’s been so long since we’ve all gotten together.”

You hadn’t been able to come up with a convincing excuse to avoid the trip, so you packed your bags, hoping the villa would be big enough to keep a comfortable distance between you and Jungkook.

But the moment you stepped onto the patio of the villa, you knew that hope was futile. He was there, leaning against the railing, staring out at the ocean like he belonged there. And when he turned and saw you, the atmosphere immediately shifted.

His dark eyes narrowed, his lips pressing into a thin line. You felt his gaze move over you briefly before he turned away, as if dismissing you altogether.

Your brother’s voice broke the tension. “Surprise! Kook managed to clean his schedule.”

You forced a smile, swallowing the lump in your throat. “Great,” you said, your voice flat.

“Hey kid,” he smirked.

“I’m not a kid!” You wanted to scream for help.

[hannieween]

gambler | heartbreaker series | c.sc

Plans do not always come to fruition. That was one of the hardest truths that Seungcheol had to come to grips with.

✧ pairing: choi seungcheol x female reader ✧ genre: angst, fluff, smut (MDNI) ✧ aus: established relationship, boss seungcheol, gambler cheol, bartender reader ✧ word count: 14.9k

✧ warnings: descriptions of depression. cheol is possessive, mentions of therapy, alcohol consumption, smut with plot, daddy kink, dom seungcheol, sub reader, reader is on birth control, big dick seungcheol, unprotected sex, creampie, breeding kink, jealousy, exhibitionism: sex in the workspace, they have a voyeur. dirty talk. pet names: love, pretty, baby, angel (hers) babe, boss, daddy (his)

›🎧: ghost – baekhyun | amnesia – kai | losing game – leo | love is banned – gemini | can we talk again – purple kiss | i'm fine – d.o | night view – monsta x | mood – dpr ian | rainy days – v | last night – jxw | sapphire blue – jiwoo

✧ thank you to @hhaechansmoless and @coupsiedaisee for proofreading this for me ♡

› series masterlist – general masterlist – taglist

✧ author's note: i cannot for the life of me not insert myself into my fics. some of the story beats in this one are too close to my heart. might be the most personal one so far so pardon the angst ? this chapter is an emotional roller coaster if i do say so myself

✧ author's note pt. 2: this chapter is told in a non-linear way. so it has a lot of time skips. you're warned. bye ✌🏻

✧ disclaimer: minors DO NOT INTERACT. this post is intended for 18+ readers ONLY. please have your age stated in your blog description and try not to look like a bot please 🙂

part v

Two years ago 

Plans do not always come to fruition. That was one of the hardest truths that Seungcheol had to come to grips with. No matter how much effort or heart he put into something, sometimes it still wouldn’t be enough. 

But what he could never reconcile, was that he had lost you. 

Even though, deep down, he knew that he wasn’t entirely to blame for the breakup, the thought haunted him. He could’ve done more. He should’ve fought harder. He had always feared he would lose you someday, as if something so good was never meant to belong to him.  

Still, the day you left felt wrong. He replayed it in his mind ten times, twenty, a hundred. Every word you said, every change on your face, everything leading up to the end. He should’ve done this, he thought, his stomach twisted painfully. He should’ve said that. He fell into an endless spiral of what ifs, mourning the version of his life where you were still in it. 

He missed you.

Turning over in bed, he wrapped an arm around a pillow and sighed. He couldn’t even cry anymore.  

It was four in the morning. He knew before he even checked his phone. He had become an expert in tracking the time spent in silence, in ignoring the missing calls, and unread texts from friends trying to reach him. None of it mattered. 

His eyelids felt heavy, but sleep was no escape. In his dreams, he always found you. Flashes of secret glances across the library tables, the way you’d lift your head just to peek at him—smiling shyly because he always caught you looking. Other times, the dreams turned into nightmares, reliving the abrupt ending of what you had together, the last moments before you walked away. 

The pad of his finger hovered over the shared folder on his phone. He swallowed hard, the familiar knot twisting in his stomach. 

Apparently, you had forgotten about the folder. The folder where your photos were automatically backed up. Seungcheol never moved a single thing, as though keeping it untouched might preserve his last connection to you just a little longer. Before you noticed and end that too. 

One week after the breakup, you erased all the photos of you together. Every trace you had together was erased on social media. But somehow, you had forgotten about the shared folder. Or maybe you missed him too. Maybe you wanted to hold on a little longer.  

At first, he avoided his phone entirely, pretending his phone didn’t exist. But then—something happened. 

One night, the folder updated.

Seungcheol felt a pain so sharp, he was sure it would kill him. Seeing your name on his screen made the pain in his chest tighter. He stopped dead in his tracks, bringing a finger to press on your name, he held his breath.

Updated a minute ago

His heart had pounded in his ears. He braced himself to see you to be wrecked all over by the sight of your face. 

But no. The photos weren’t of you. They were of the sky. A sunset, painted in soft pinks and burning oranges.

That was the first night of his downward spiral.

He almost felt embarrassed by what came next. He didn’t fall to his knees. He didn’t scream or break down sobbing. 

Instead, he checked the folder every single night. Waiting. Hoping. Not for the sky. Not for another sunset or sunrise. 

For you. 

It soon became his addiction, this quiet, but self-inflicted torment. The nights without an update were the worst. Just like this one. The thought of you realizing he still had access to the folder made him sick to his stomach. Maybe you had figured it out, maybe that’s why the updates had stopped. 

Seungcheol locked his phone and tossed it somewhere in the tangled sheets. 

Were you as lonely as he was?

Staring at the ceiling, he let the memories play again in his head. It was a dangerous game, replaying his own heartbreak like a song stuck on repeat. 

Why did he like hurting so much?

If he could only hear your voice again. But he made a promise to himself: no matter how bad it got, no matter how much it tore him apart, he wouldn’t reach out to you. He wouldn’t do that to you. 

His hand groped blindly for the whisky bottle on his nightstand, but he met nothing but the empty glass. 

The phone buzzed somewhere in the sheets. He went rigid. The vibrations drummed against his ear. He ignored it at first. 

But what if it was you?

The knot in his stomach tightened unbearably as he reached for his phone, his heart slamming against his ribs. His fingers fumbled through the sheets, desperate searching. 

The aching feeling inside him was soothed at the moment he saw your name on the screen. Relief flooded his chest—you were still there. He even felt rewarded, in some twisted way. You always updated him around this time. 

But the relief was fleeting. 

The pain returned a thousand times worse. 

He shot up too fast, dizziness crashing over him, not just from the alcohol, but from the sheer force of you. Blood rushed to his head, leaving him unsteady. 

There you were. Your eyes. 

He could read it in them instantly—you were sad. That was undeniable. But there was something else too, something softer. A glint. Catching in the pale morning light that bathed your face. Maybe it was hope. 

Seeing your face for the first time in what felt like a lifetime was brutal. The image blurred. His vision swam. The phone slipped from his fingers, landing somewhere on the bed as he pressed his hands to his face. Don’t cry, don’t cry, he repeated, a strangled sound muffled against his palms. 

He should have stopped you from leaving.

It was seven in the morning when he finally surfaced from the spiral. 

Sunlight leaked through the cracks in the curtains, stabbing at his tired eyes. The bedsheets were tangled around him. Clothes were scattered across the floor—abandoned, forgotten. The whole room was a mess, but none of it compared to the mess inside his heart, his head. 

Still, he sat there. A near catatonic state. Eyes open but seeing nothing. 

He could not keep living like this. 

His chest felt heavy as he reached for his phone. Seungcheol scrolled through a hundred and fifty-seven texts from Jeonghan before typing two words. 

I’m fine.

His fingers hovered over the screen. Switching tabs to see your face one more time. And with a pause of hesitation, he opened his phone settings, hitting the hard reset button. 

He had to let you go. 

It was nine in the morning when he heard an urgent knock at the front door. He had gotten good at ignoring that too. But this time, he went to get it. He already knew it would be. 

The door creaked open. “Hi,” Seungcheol croaked, realizing he had not spoken to a living being in days.

Jeonghan’s head snapped up from where he had been staring at the ground. He didn’t speak. He didn’t have to. The way his shoulders tensed, the caution in his every movement, it told Seungcheol everything. 

Jeonghan entered the apartment, gaze flitting over the place—the place Seungcheol once shared with you. Your things were packed into moving boxes, stacked in the corner, waiting to be sent back to your parents’ house. 

His stuff was in moving boxes too.

Because there wasn’t a single corner of this place that wasn’t haunted by you. So, he had to let go of that, too. 

Seungcheol had to take life’s lessons the hard way. Plans do not always come to fruition, yes. But that could also mean that he had the chance to make new plans. Or at least, that is what the therapist told him.

Breakups are hard. 

After moving to a different neighbourhood, Seungcheol quit his office job. Then, in what everyone around him thought it was a fit of madness, he purged his entire life of you. He got new clothes. He died his hair, he let it grow. He re-did the piercings in his earlobes. He got a new phone. 

If burying his past self meant forgetting you, he’d dig that grave himself.

“Are you sure about this?” 

Changkyun leaned against the counter, arms crossed, eyes flicking to the money stacked neatly between them. 

“I’m sure,” Seungcheol replied, tone flat.

Changkyun clicked his tongue, tilting his head. “It’s a big investment.” 

“One I’m willing to make.”

The money had been purposed for something else once. Something permanent. Something that, at one point, had been his future. 

It was the money he had saved to start a life with you. Now, it lay before him in neat stacks, repurposed for something else entirely.  

“I’ll tell my guy,” Changkyun shrugged, unconvinced. Then, a pause, a frown. “What exactly are you planning to do with the place?” 

Seungcheol knew it was a gamble. This plan might fail. This plan might succeed. He did not know for certain. But he wanted to say that at least say he tried it. 

With every fiber of his being, he wanted this.

“I’m turning it into a bar.”

Starting a new chapter in his life felt odd sometimes. Even if he had made it forbidden to think of you, he would wonder if you felt the same too.

Breakups are odd.

This new chapter of his life had him rewriting bits of himself that once included you in some way. It was seeing things with brand new eyes.

As the plan of opening a bar was in the works, new opportunities were falling to his lap. Jeonghan decided to take the offer of co-owning the bar, thus absorbing part of the investments too and making it a little bit easier to open it sooner.

Also, it was gaining some traction. People would stop and ask what the old pizza place would turn into.

“I have a friend that might be a good addition to your bar. He’s clever, and made for this, he’s kind of a night owl,” Changkyun mentioned one night in passing, looking around the place with an impressed look on his face.

“Bring him in,” Seungcheol nodded. He had been thinking of putting up hiring ads somewhere, but he kept pushing the task out of procrastination.

However, Changkyun’s friend was a true blessing in disguise. The guy turned up the following day as Seungcheol was putting up the shelves where he meant to display bottles of whisky and rum.

Crossing the doorway with a curious look on his face, he knocked on the countertop to draw Seungcheol’s attention over the loud hammering.

Upon looking at him, he knew it was Changkyun’s friend.

“You are?” Seungcheol pushed his eyebrows up.

The guy was about to utter something, but after hearing Seungcheol’s dry words, he just stammered: “Jeon Wonwoo.”

Seungcheol made no follow-up comment whatsoever, the moment dragged on silently, he arched his eyebrows higher this time.

“I-I’m here for the job offer. I’m a friend of Changkyun’s,” he explained, pushing the rim of his glasses up the bridge of his nose.

“Have you ever managed a bar before?”

Jeon Wonwoo nodded his head once. “Yes.”

“Right. Come here tomorrow at five. We can cover all of the details then.”

Seungcheol felt glad he took that leap of faith. Most nights, he would walk around his bar feeling proud to have come this far and have a successful business all by his own. 

He felt glad that the pain in his heart was starting to heal. 

Breakups are funny. Because sometimes—though not often—he would wonder what you would think of him now. And when he did, he surprised himself. The thought of you didn’t hurt anymore. Seungcheol had nearly forgotten the sound of your voice, the way you used to say his name. 

Two years had passed since that night. Two years of nothing but himself. The bar had become his whole world—the buzzing sounds of conversations over loud music, clinking noises, people laughing filling the silence where your voice used to be. The people he met now became small anchors to keep himself afloat and not think of the ghost of you. 

He had built something from the ground up, he found something that was entirely for his own. 

Even if he dared to think of you, it no longer felt like a punch to the gut. The weight of missing you, the constant need to look for you everywhere he looked was no more. The pain had grown dull, the memory of you something distant. Seungcheol had, at last, moved on. 

Or he thought he had. 

The busier he kept, the better. That had been his mindset for the past two years, and time had passed in a blur. And if he let himself be honest, he’d have to admit that he was content with his life. 

Seungcheol sank into the lounge chair in the living room, a heavy sigh slipping past his lips as he reclined against the soft leather. A glass of whiskey rested on his thigh, his fingers loosely curled around it.

Silence reigned in his apartment, a stark contrast to the loud buzzing noise from the bar, it almost left him feeling overwhelmed. It was three in the morning—the usual time he got home after another long night at the bar. By now, it was routine. Second nature. 

He licked his lips, shutting his eyes for a moment. It was one of those rare nights when his mind drifted where he didn’t want it to, wandering down a path that always led to you. Were you alright? If so, were you loved?

In the darkness behind his closed eyelids, he saw you. He saw you sitting across the uni library, smiling because he caught you looking at him. His grip tightened around the cold glass, a flicker of something sharp twisting in his chest. 

Seungcheol exhaled slowly, opening his eyes to take one generous gulp from his glass. The whiskey burned deeply, it was sharp and smoky, lingering in the back of his throat. He looked at the bottom of his glass, thinking of pouring another to quiet down his thoughts before going to bed. 

After all this time, he shouldn’t be thinking about you. 

But it was impossible to stop now. He tilted the glass on his fingers very slightly, his gaze unfocused. He remembered the way your fingers used to trace shapeless patterns on his skin, the quiet hum of your voice in the mornings, the way you would giggle in between morning kisses. Seungcheol wondered if you still did that, if someone else was on the receiving end now. 

His chest tightened, the pain so hard that he had to take another large gulp of whiskey, deciding to pour another one. He had convinced himself he’d moved on. But nights like this, when the world seemed to stop and his thoughts were so loud they buzzed in his ears, he wasn’t so sure. 

Because even after all this time, even after building himself a life in opulence and arduous work, he still thought of you. 

He leaned over the coffee table, pouring more whiskey into the glass and the half-melted ice spheres. The apartment was too quiet, too still, so much so that he felt a prisoner to it. Like somehow the stillness was to blame that he was thinking of you. 

Seungcheol tilted his head back against the chair, swallowing hard to try to dissolve the feeling coiling around his throat. Staring at the ceiling, the grip around the glass of whiskey loosened, right before he allowed himself to remember. 

It was a late night. You were curled up on his couch back at his old, tiny apartment. You were currently fighting sleep while waiting for him to finish looking over something. Seungcheol was working late, going over some accounts from his old office job. He didn’t remember what had him so busy, but it didn’t matter now. What he remembered about that night was that you refused to go to bed without him. 

You were staying over at his apartment, he doesn’t remember the reason why. But you were slightly irritated that you were staying over, and he was working on some accounts. 

“Just a few more minutes,” he had told you, glancing over the stack of papers. 

You had hummed something in response, your eyes already slipping shut. 

When he finally had set the papers down, you were already deeply asleep on the couch. Seungcheol sat down beside you, and you had barely stirred, except that some seconds later, you had leaned into him, your body instinctively seeking out for him even in sleep. 

Seungcheol had smiled to himself, welcoming you in a careful, but loving embrace. The seconds passed, but he made no move to carry you to bed yet, he enjoyed the peace and quiet moment with you. 

It was nothing special. It was just a regular night. And yet somehow, it was everything he ever wanted. 

And now, he was sitting alone and in silence. 

Seungcheol let out a quiet scoff in amusement, and regret. 

Funny, the things you miss.  

The next morning, he woke with a sharp inhale. His neck felt stiff from the awkward angle against the headrest of the couch. A deep groan left him as he blinked lazily, the morning light spilling through the window made him grimace a bit. 

Running a hand down his face, he groan, his brain feeling sluggish and struggling to catch up with the fact that he had fallen asleep thinking about you. 

Seungcheol hated falling asleep on the couch. It always left him feeling unrested, and disorientated, like he’d lost track of something. 

The now empty whiskey glass sat in front of him on the coffee table. He wanted to lay the blame on the alcohol, but deep down he knew that he had just gone through a moment of weakness. 

The memory of you still clung to him, like an echo refusing to leave his mind. Even out of his life and far away from him, you were still stubborn. Still refusing to leave, branding a mark within him deeply. Irritation flared beneath his skin, making his blood boil. He didn’t have time for this, not today, not ever again. 

He pushed himself up, his steps taking him straight to the bathroom to have a shower. Even as the scalding hot water hit his back, the weight in his body refused to leave.  

It didn’t matter. He had a job, he had a bar to run. And if there was one thing that he’d learned in the past two years since that, it was that staying busy kept the ghosts at bay. 

For now. 

The bar was barely active with the first tasks of the day. The kitchen was getting ready, the noise from the staff moving around, the clatter of glassware carried all the way to the front of the bar.

The tables were vacant, everything was tidied and ready for the day ahead. Wonwoo, who was sitting on one of the booths was already active and sorting out what tasks needed to be done before the first costumers showed up. 

The bar had a unique smell every morning before opening hours. The low humming noises from the staff gearing up for the day, everything around him felt like home to Seungcheol. Work, it was what grounded him. At least it usually did. 

But today, the weight of the restless night clung to him, the ghost of you still following him wherever he turned to. 

“Rough morning?” 

Seungcheol glanced to the booth that was pushed all the way back. “Didn’t sleep well,” he replied to Wonwoo. 

“Yeah, well,” Wonwoo sucked in a breath slowly. “That makes two of us,” he exhaled. 

Seungcheol sat down on the booth too, crossing his arms on the table. He rolled his shoulders before sitting back on the seat, brush those thoughts away, he told himself. 

“What do we have today?” Seungcheol nodded to the notes sitting beneath Wonwoo’s hands. 

“Let’s see,” Wonwoo began, skimming through his notes. “We have suppliers coming in two hours. I have a newbie to show the ropes to. And we haven’t paid the Haze boys yet,” he mentioned aloofly.

“I already did last night,” Seungcheol replied quickly. 

“Got it,” Wonwoo said as he checked the reminder off. He lifted his head, looking at Seungcheol, but then something else caught his attention. “Oh, the newbie is here.”

“Hi,” a tiny voice replied in the background.

He should have listened to the alarm bells in the back of his head, the ones screaming at him to pay attention to that voice. But Wonwoo was already moving, an eager smile on his face, Seungcheol, and he should’ve noticed that too.

Seungcheol may have forgotten the sound of your voice. But he would never, never forget your face.

And in that moment, he wished he was seeing a stranger. 

Because the way your expression froze, the way the light in your eyes dimmed, told him everything he needed to know.

He was seeing a ghost. 

It couldn’t be you. You were on the other side of the planet. This had to be a joke. A dream. A nightmare.

The shock hit him so hard, it left an echoing pain in his chest, so deep he nearly dropped to his knees. His breath turned shallow. The floor beneath him suddenly felt unsteady, he almost began to think that the entire place around him had turned against him, showing him a mirage of you. 

The following moments were a blur. He made up some dumb excuse—he didn’t even remember what he had said—and ran away from the bar, barely registering Wonwoo’s confused look as Seungcheol made his exit to the nearest bathroom. 

There, leaning face-first against the door, his hands braced against the cool surface, he had to make a choice.

He could pretend to not know you at all. Accept you in his bar, his safe haven and keep his distance like a stranger. 

Or he could refuse. Tell you to look for a job elsewhere. 

The first choice meant keeping you close while never going near you. 

The second meant losing you all over again. 

It was another gamble.

But there was one thought he couldn’t shake, no matter how hard he tried. Why on earth were you looking for a job? His mind reeled uncontrollably, he lost track of his surroundings, his body. Months before you broke up with him, you had taken on a part-time job—but that was different. That had been your choice, something temporary. 

This? This felt like something else entirely. 

Seungcheol had cut off all contact with you, so he had no idea about your family either. He never imagined that you had been cut off, this time completely. 

Even after years of not seeing your face, he could still read you perfectly. One glimpse, and he noticed the dark circles under your eyes, the slight off-color on your cheeks and lips. You were tired. Worried.

When he finally mustered the strength to move, he went back to the bar. And there you were—sitting in the same spot he had occupied moments before. 

Something happened. Something baffling. 

He felt his heart and mind split between the person he used to be and the person he was now. 

For a moment, it was as if time had folded in on itself, pulling him back to the first time he saw you sitting in the library all those years ago. He remembered the way he felt then—the quiet pull of intrigue and fascination, the way he used to watch you from a distance before he ever worked up the nerve to ask you out. 

You were the prettiest girl he had ever laid eyes on. 

And God, he had missed you.

Every cell in his body screamed at him to move, to go near you. His fingers twitched with the impulse to reach out, to touch you, to prove that you were real and indeed not a ghost. It was almost funny—how the world stopped the moment he saw you, yet in his mind, everything was happening at light speed. 

He felt angry at you for showing up in his life like nothing happened. He felt angry that with one look at you, his life came apart. 

And then, realization settled deep in his chest. 

If he let you walk away now, he would wonder about you every day. Again. And he refused to go through that a second time. 

So he took another leap of faith.

Present time 

“So?” 

“So, what?” you asked slowly as you tied the apron behind your back. 

Jeon Wonwoo was leaning on the countertop, elbows planted, phone in hand. “You spent weeks playing me for a fool,” he said with a sheepish smile—one that he didn’t quite hide all the way as he stood upright, rubbing the tip of his nose with his knuckle.

“Listen,” you begun with a light chuckle, eyes flickering around the room in case Seungcheol was nearby. “I was just curious, and-,” 

“I get why you did it,” he said, lifting a palm and shaking it dismissively. 

“Oh. Then why—”

“I think I am owed an apology,” Wonwoo muttered, crossing his arms over his chest, a sly grin tugging at his lips.

“I am sorry,” you said dumbly. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you the truth. And that I… took advantage of that and snooped a bit.”

Wonwoo tilted his head back slightly, the grin growing on his face. “I don’t want a verbal apology.” 

You gaped at him. “Why do I feel like I’m not going to like where this is going?” 

He pursed his lips—the same look he always had when he was toying with a cheeky idea. “One day I’m going to ask a favor from you. And that is how you’ll repent.” 

“That’s blackmail,” you pointed, narrowing your eyes at him. 

“No different from you playing dumb and ask me questions about your ex for weeks,” he rolled his eyes. “So?” 

“Are you being serious, Wonwoo?” 

“Dead serious.” 

You sighed, looking around one more time. The bar was already in open hours, but it was still early to have a lot of customers, to the exception of the ones who regularly showed up within the hour of opening. 

“Fine,” you gritted. 

Wonwoo let out a soft chuckle, returning to his task behind the bar. “I do forgive you,” he said. “But I will ask a favor from you. Soon.”

“Gee, thanks,” you muttered, throwing your arms in the air. “I’m at your disposal, I guess.”

“It’s just something I need help with, no big deal,” he shrugged.

“Is it about… work?” You grabbed a dishcloth, pretending to clean the nearest cup.

Wonwoo tilted his head, considering his words. “Yes and no.” He chuckled lightly, but his gaze lingered a beat too long.

“I hate the suspense,” you said, trying to keep your voice flat.

“And I hate being lied to,” he shot back, though his smile was small, almost amused. “I’m keeping the suspense until I claim that favor.”

“Sure.” You rolled your eyes, knowing full well you were pressing his buttons.

“So you’re not even going to deny it?” Wonwoo’s smirk stretched as he crossed his arms over his chest.

“Would it make a difference?” You sighed, already regretting every choice that had led to this moment.

“Not really,” he admitted, tilting his head. “But I figured I’d give you a chance to redeem yourself.”

You groaned, rubbing your temples. “Is it going to be like this now?”

“Blackmail is suddenly very acceptable now that I found you out,” he said sweetly, but the glint in his eyes told you he was enjoying this way too much.

“Wonwoo.” You shot him a warning look.

“Fine, fine.” He laughed, raising his hands in surrender. “But you have to admit, this is a fascinating situation. The two of you, playing strangers while making eyes at each other when you think no one’s looking—”

“We are not making eyes at each other,” you snapped, a little too fast.

“Oh?” His grin widened. “Must I remind you how I found you two out?”

Your stomach twisted. You sent a quick glance around, making sure no one was close enough to overhear. “Look, you wouldn’t understand—”

“Exactly why wouldn’t I understand?” His smirk faded, his voice quieter now.

You hesitated, your gaze dropping to the checkered floor. The real reason felt too raw to say aloud. You had spent weeks toeing around Seungcheol’s life without stepping directly into it, and Wonwoo—whether he realized it or not—had been your connection to the pieces of him you hadn’t been brave enough to face. You needed to know how broken he had been before you could allow yourself to be closer again.

“Because I hurt him too much,” you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper. “And I was scared to come back into his life. I was ashamed.”

Wonwoo studied you for a long moment before exhaling, his teasing demeanor softening. “Why did you come back?” he asked, like he was peeling away the last layer of the truth.

Your throat tightened. The answer had always been simple, but saying it out loud made it feel so much heavier. You lifted your gaze to meet his. “I never wanted to leave.”

His expression shifted completely, the guarded amusement replaced by something much quieter. “I get it,” he murmured, stepping closer. His hand landed on your shoulder in a reassuring squeeze. “Hey. Don’t worry,” he said, shrugging like it wasn’t a big deal. “This doesn’t make me think badly of you.”

You let out a slow breath, nodding. “Thank you,” you muttered, offering a small smile.

Wonwoo winked before stepping away, getting back to his task before opening hours. But something in the way he left made you uneasy. He wasn’t entirely done with this conversation.

And worse—something told you that whatever Wonwoo was holding back also had to do with Seungcheol. 

It was a slow day that day, only a handful of customers walked through the door, and the hours dragged on. But with the end of your shift approaching, you found yourself more relaxed than eager to leave. 

For once, the guys had behaved. No teasing, no snooping, almost like some rule had been put in place to avoid the subject. You suspected that Seungcheol had something to do with that.

Not that he had much time to show for it. He’d been busy—placing orders, making phone calls, handling payments, coordinating deliveries for the kitchen, and making sure the bar was stocked with everything it needed. And, most importantly, he had taken on the task of training the new hire, Chan.

Chan was in his first week. He was younger than you, bubbly, and had a good attitude. But he’d made one mistake on his very first day. Wonwoo, as a way to get his payback, had decided that Chan would shadow you in some of the complicated tasks, like how to operate the system, or the terminals. 

Having him as a shadow was fine. Except for one thing. 

“You’ll be shadowing her,” Wonwoo motioned to your direction. 

“Hi, there,” you said, offering a quick wave. Then you turned around, resuming to tending your tables. 

Chan barely hesitated before muttering under his breath, “Jesus. She’s fucking hot.” 

Wonwoo tensed up, coughing lightly. “Shut up,” he muttered, throwing a look over his shoulder. 

You thought of turning around and just shut the guy down. But unaware of the silent warning, Chan remained completely oblivious. Especially to the fact that his new boss, Seungcheol, was standing right behind him. 

Seungcheol’s jaw was tightly clasped, deciding to say nothing and looking away instead. Chan unfortunately, remained oblivious and exceptionally bad at hiding his attraction to you. 

And this shift was no different. Chan remained completely unbeknownst to the fact that he had walked straight into dangerous territory, and even more surprising still, he didn’t realize that Seungcheol had him in his sight.

The moment Chan started following you around the bar, Seungcheol just happened to stick around more. At first it wasn’t as evident, since he was normally in the bar doing inventory, paperwork, making calls, he practically lived here. But today, he was suddenly very hands-on. 

“Here, let me show you,” Seungcheol said, stepping in just as Chan was having a hard time learning how to use the shaker. Seungcheol took the shaker from his hands with a practiced ease, his presence instantly noticeable. “Watch carefully. You want to get the grip right, or you’ll make a mess.”

Chan nodded eagerly, completely missing the way Seungcheol’s gaze flickered toward you for a fraction of a second. You did not miss it.

Your stomach tightened, breath hitching slightly. You were sure you saw Wonwoo’s lips curve slightly, what solidified your shame was the gentle nudging of his elbow as you passed beside him. 

This battle continued throughout the shift. Whenever you were nearby, Seungcheol was there too—adjusting bottles, correcting a pour, explaining to Chan how things were done. At one point, you reached for a glass at the same time as Seungcheol, your fingers barely brushing his. A brief, fleeting contact, but enough for you to catch the smug look on his face. He didn’t smile, but there was something flashing across his features. Like he knew exactly what he was doing.

You narrowed your eyes at him. He just raised a brow in silent amusement, using his tongue to brush the smile that was beginning to form on his lips. 

And Chan? Completely unaware. It was almost as though he felt proud that it was the boss who was showing him the ropes. 

However the most perplexing thing was that Seungcheol made no obvious move to show Chan that you were his girlfriend. Years ago, he wouldn’t have hesitated to use a hand on your waist, pulling you in for a kiss. Or he wouldn’t have hesitated to call you love or angel in front of everyone.

Seungcheol loved claiming what was his. So the fact that he was not doing so openly made you feel obfuscated. 

“He’s making a point,” Wonwoo said as he walked past you at the bar, muttering just loud enough for you to hear. 

You raised your gaze to meet his. “A point?” you asked dumbly. 

Wonwoo grinned, motioning with the tip of his nose at situation happening across the bar—Seungcheol was talking with Chan. The conversation happening so far away that it was very difficult for you to hear. 

“Oh, this is nothing,” you said, sighing heavily. 

Seungcheol spent the rest of the shift hovering. And it became almost funny to you. It wasn’t that obvious, but every time Chan made a move to get close to you, somehow Seungcheol found a way to intervene. 

Whenever you bent over to pull out something from the fridges, Seungcheol intercepted Chan’s line of sight smoothly. Or whenever you stood on your tiptoes to grab a bottle from the shelf, Seungcheol would call for Chan, asking a dumb favor like passing him a lime, or changing the song playing on the speakers. 

You were turning toward the liquor shelf, reaching for a bottle on the top rack when—

“Careful.” 

Seungcheol’s voice came from just behind you, making you freeze instantly in place. His arm was already extending past you, fingers curling around the bottle with ease. His chest pressed against your back and as he retrieved it, you swallowed hard, heart racing at the way his warmth wrapped around you. 

“I had it,” you muttered, turning around on your feet. 

Seungcheol had a smirk planted on his face. “Sure you did,” he said smoothly, his eyebrow quirking up slightly. “Just wanted to help.”

You rolled your eyes, biting your bottom lip to keep you from smiling at him. “Uh-huh.”

Seungcheol leaned towards you, and you instantly sucked in a breath. “What, you don’t believe me?” 

“Is that what you’re doing with Chan?” you countered, unable to step away, his whole frame was caging you in. 

Seungcheol tilted his head, arching his eyebrow. “I’m doing my job.” 

You had nothing to reply to that. Despite Seungcheol engaging in a petty rivalry against Chan, he was doing his job. 

Seungcheol noticed, a sly grin appearing on his face as he sent a glance across the bar. Chan was looking your way, dropping his gaze as soon as you locked eyes with him. “This guy,” Seungcheol hissed. 

Your face started to heat up. “Seungcheol,” you muttered as he motioned towards Chan. 

He turned back, an innocent look on his face. “What?” 

“Don’t.”

“Don’t what?” he asked, blinking innocently at you. 

You rolled your eyes. “Whatever you’re thinking, just don’t.”

He grinned, slow and knowing. “I’m just implementing a strict focus during training,” he shrugged with ease. “Can’t have the new hire looking at my girlfriend on his first few days when he should be learning the ropes, right?” 

You groaned, dragging a hand down your face. “Seungcheol.”

“Relax,” he chuckled, pushing off the counter. Then, with an absolutely infuriating wink, he added, “Just having some fun, baby,” he said quietly. And just like that, he strolled off, leaving you to wrestle with the fact that he was definitely enjoying this. 

And worse? So were you.

The usual end-of-shift routine was unfolding. Seungcheol had actually finished his tasks more than an hour ago, and he could’ve gone home already—if he wasn’t your boyfriend. And your ride home.

Somehow, nobody had thought to tell Chan that you were with the boss. And it was too embarrassing for you to just come out and say it. Besides, a small part of you enjoyed the primal reaction Seungcheol had every time Chan so much as looked your way.

So, instead of leaving, Seungcheol kept himself entertained at the pool table, practicing his shots while sipping a beer. Every now and then, he sent glances around the bar. Casual glances, but noticeable—making sure Chan was keeping his comments about you to himself and his eyes on the task at hand.

You were rinsing out a glass when Wonwoo returned from taking out the trash. “Alright, boss,” Wonwoo called. “We’re clocking out!”

Seungcheol was bent over the pool table, eyes locked on the white cue ball just ahead of his stick. He nodded once before executing a smooth shot. “Alright. See you tomorrow, guys. Thanks.”

The door swung shut behind them, leaving just the two of you in the bar. You set down the last piece of glassware to dry on the rack. Washing your hands, you sneaked a glance at Seungcheol, who was biting his bottom lip as he lined up another shot.

“What?” he asked, sensing your scrutiny.

“Nothing,” you huffed, smirking as he looked far too smug about it.

Seungcheol laughed under breath. “You always do that.”

“Do what?”

“Pretend you’re busy when you don’t want to answer me.”

You exhaled, rolling your eyes before walking around the bar and grabbing a cue stick from the rack on the wall.

Seungcheol arched an eyebrow. “Are you mad at me?” he asked, gathering the pool balls inside the triangle again.

“No,” you replied simply. “But why didn’t you tell Chan about us?”

Seungcheol shrugged. “The topic never came up.”

“You could’ve told him instead of stalking him like he was about to steal your food,” you teased, cackling at your own description.

“It was better this way,” he said easily. “Doesn’t mess with the workflow, and he keeps his cheerful attitude.” He paused, his gaze narrowing just a little. “He didn’t make you uncomfortable, did he?”

You rolled your eyes at him. “Please. He barely even spoke two words to me. He’s harmless. While you on the other hand?” you huffed, leaning over the table to line up the first shot. “You glared at him all night.” 

Seungcheol smirked, leaning against his cue stick. “I don’t glare.” 

You made your shot, sinking a striped ball into the corner pocket. “Oh, you definitely do.” 

He hummed, pursing his lips. Then he step closer as you moved to take your next shot. “I was just making sure my bartender didn’t get distracted.” 

You narrowed your eyes at him. “By what?”

“By some new guy staring at her.” 

You rolled your eyes, shaking your head. “That is a non-issue,” you pointed, refocusing on your shot. “I could’ve told him I’m with someone, call it a day.” 

Seungcheol didn’t respond immediately. Instead, he reached out, he ran his fingers down the line of your back just as you were bending down, and placed his palm firmly on the small of your back. 

You hit the cue ball a little too hard, sending it bouncing off the rails without hitting anything else. 

Seungcheol chuckled. “Someone?” he inquired, arching one perfect eyebrow. “Not me?” 

You deadpanned at him. “You know what I mean,” you huffed. 

He tilted his head, feigning innocence. “And what do you mean?” he pursed his lips. “Would you have told Chan that you’re with someone instead of just telling him you’re with me?”

Your brows furrowed, straightening up. “What kind of question is that?” 

“A valid one,” he smirked, taking his shot, sinking two balls in quick succession. “You know what, maybe telling him your boyfriend is also his boss would destroy that confidence he has.”

You laughed at him with reluctance. “You’re being kind of a prick.”

Seungcheol didn’t deny it, laughing with you. “Maybe.” He circled the table, standing just behind you now. His voice dipped lower, teasing. “But I think you like it.”

You exhaled, tilting your head back slightly to look at him. “Like what?”

He leaned in just a fraction, enough for his breath to brush your ear. “That you drive me crazy.”

Your throat went dry, breath hitching almost audibly. 

Seungcheol pulled back, his smirk lazy and triumphant. “Your turn.”

You exhaled, gripping your cue stick a little tighter. “Take it back. You’re being a huge prick.”

Seungcheol smirked, stepping back just enough to let you focus, but you could still feel his presence lingering close. Dangerously close. “You haven’t denied it.” 

Rolling your eyes, you lined up your shot, determined not to let him win. You hit the cue ball, this time sinking a solid with a satisfying thump. You straightened and turned to him smugly. “The answer is no. I don’t like that my boyfriend gets all jealous and possessive as soon as he sees other men glance my way.” 

Seungcheol hummed, nodding slowly. “Maybe I should try a little harder, then.” 

You shot him a look. “You should try harder… at the actual game.”

He laughed under his breath. “Alright. Let’s make it interesting, then.”

You arched an eyebrow. “Interesting how?”

“A bet.” He leaned on his cue stick, watching you closely. “If I win, you owe me something.”

You scoffed, crossing your arms. “I don’t even know what that means, but it sounds like trouble.”

Seungcheol grinned, his heart palpitating with eagerness. “Absolutely.”

You considered for a moment. Winning against Seungcheol was always satisfying, but the path to losing against him… well, that was dangerous territory. “Fine,” you conceded. “But if I win, you owe me something.”

Seungcheol’s eyes glinted with interest. “Deal. What do you want?”

You pretended to think. “An entire week without you messing with me at work.”

He gaped at you for a second. “A whole week?” he huffed, running a hand through his blond hair. “That’s nearly impossible.”

“Take it or leave it.”

Seungcheol sighed, shaking his head. “Alright, alright. And if I win…” He took a step closer, lowering his voice just enough to send a shiver down your spine. “You have to go on a real date with me.”

You blinked, thrown off. “A… real date?” you asked dumbly. 

He shrugged. “You know. Something other than stolen moments between shifts or late-night car rides home.”

“That’s...” you arched one eyebrow. 

Seungcheol smirked. “What? Afraid you’ll lose to me?” he challenged. 

You huffed. “No. Afraid you’ll cheat.”

“I would never,” he said, eyes twinkling with mischief. 

“Babe, we live together,” you emphasized. 

“And? We haven’t gone out on a date in…” he lifted his gaze to the ceiling. “Two years and a half,” he said.  

Your heart clenched, realizing he was right. “Fine. Let’s play.”

Seungcheol stepped aside, motioning toward the table. “Ladies first.”

You lined up your shot, focusing harder than before. If you were going to beat Seungcheol, you needed to be unstoppable. 

But just as you were about to strike, Seungcheol muttered, “You know, I really should’ve told Chan.”

You hesitated, glancing up. “And what exactly would you have told him?” 

“That you’re already spoken for.”

Your grip on the cue stick tightened. “Spoken for? That’s one way to put it.”

He nodded, looking way too pleased with himself. “Now I’m beginning to think it would’ve saved us all a lot of trouble.”

You rolled your eyes, returning your attention to your shot. “You’re ridiculous.”

“And yet, here you are. With me. Playing pool. After hours.”

You ignored the way your stomach flipped at his words and finally took the shot. The ball sank into the pocket, and you straightened, feigning confidence. “And?” 

Seungcheol chuckled, moving to take his turn. “Oh, baby.” He leaned over the table, eyes locking onto yours just before he took his shot. “You’re terrible at hiding your emotions from your face.”

“I’m not,” you rolled your eyes, again.

“You have a tell,” he said smugly. “You always have.”

You hated that he was right. 

And you really hated that you were probably about to lose this game. And not because of a lack of skill, but because Seungcheol was too distracting for you. 

The way his sleek black T-shirt clung to his body, the posture he adopted as he leaned on his cue, the way his dark jeans hugged his ass. Not only that, but his fucking attitude was driving you crazy. 

“So what?” You placed a hand on the table before leaning over. “It’s not like we’re playing poker.” 

“If you’re keeping us a secret, you might want to work on that poker face,” he mused, tone smug. It was then when you should’ve realized his game. 

You scoffed. “I’m not hiding anything, Seungcheol,” you said, not fully thinking through how that might sound. Your tone resounded across the table, high and swollen in condescension. 

Seungcheol’s smirk deepened, just as you took your shot, only to miss horribly. “Not just bad at hiding your emotions, but bad at pool too.” 

He didn’t even give you time to recover. Seungcheol stepped up, leaning over the table to take the final shot, sinking the last ball into the bag. Game over. 

Seungcheol straightened, casually planting the cue stick in front of him, both hands gripping the top as he leaned on it slightly. You tossed the cue stick on the table while he just cocked his head to one side, then he smirked. 

“Prick,” you gritted, trying not to smile as his smirk widened on his perfect face. You crossed your arms over your chest, going around the table to meet up with him. “You know I wouldn’t hide our relationship.”

Seungcheol turned around, putting the cue stick away back on the rack. “What made you hesitate, then?” 

You gaped at him, having nothing to say. You thought about what you told Wonwoo. About feeling ashamed, where did that shame extend to? Did it go so far as to make you feel unworthy of Seungcheol’s forgiveness? 

“Mmn?” he hummed, taking one slow step towards you, effectively eliminating the space between you. 

“Cheol,” you breathed, bringing a hand on his chest to stop him from pinning your body back against the table behind you. 

“What’s happening, baby?” he cooed softly. 

You blinked. He wasn’t smirking anymore—just watching you carefully, waiting. “I don’t know,” you admitted. “I didn’t think telling Chan about us would matter. So I didn’t do it.” 

Seungcheol’s lips twitched into something small and satisfied as he wrapped his arms around you and lifted you, helping you sit on the rim of the pool table. You were now face to face with him, his eyes scanning the features of your face. 

“I think you enjoy it,” he muttered, his voice low and raspy. 

“Enjoy what?” you asked meekly, feeling small as his body practically still towered over yours. 

Seungcheol dipped his head to meet your lips, except that he didn’t kiss you right away. “Seeing me get jealous,” he whispered, his lips brushing yours in the process. 

“Yeah. A little,” you replied in the same manner, a light smirk spreading across your lips. 

“You know, that’s a dangerous thing to admit.”

Your smirk deepened. “Why? Gonna punish me for it?”

He smiled, finally pressing his lips against your own. The kiss was quiet, quick, but you could feel the immediate need for more. You hummed into the kiss, slipping a hand on his nape to pull him closer—to feel the warmth radiating from him, the mixture of his jealousy and the playfulness of it all. 

The world outside was quiet. And something about this moment felt different, but also so familiar. It was as though you both were young again—sharing rushed kisses in the quiet of the library, or making out in secret places. 

But the difference was that you didn’t have the need to hide anymore, at least not entirely. Despite you and him being back together fully, there was no fear of you getting caught or not. 

Seungcheol pulled back, but just slightly. His breath fanned gently over your lips as he smiled. “You didn’t tell Chan we’re together because you knew it would make me jealous?” he asked, the tone sounded genuine, but tiny. 

You made a motion to shake your head. “I don’t know,” you replied, your tone low, almost like a breath. “I just didn’t.” 

“Mmn,” he nodded, pressing his lips to yours. Then with a triumphant air, he whispered. “I win.”

You had forgotten that you were playing pool—that you were playing a game at all. You succumbed to the delicious taste of his kisses, pressing his lips to yours lightly at first. Then his full lips slowly locked with yours, creating a wet smacking sound as he pulled back. 

“You might’ve won, but I—” you touched the tip of his nose with your fingertip. “—never lose,” you cooed, smiling sweetly at him.

Seungcheol pulled back, biting his lip as he looked at you like he wanted to say some quippy retort. But instead, he switched his hands from your waist to your thighs, pushing them apart and grabbing them so he could scoot you closer to the edge of the pool table.

“You know what?” he sighed with a smile, an eyebrow quirking up. “Maybe you do need a little punishment.”

You smiled, humming in delight. Seungcheol slipped his fingers beneath your chin, holding you gently before giving you a featherlight kiss. “But I really want to fuck you right now.”

Your skin came alight with excitement, making you shudder slightly. A sigh slipped past your lips involuntarily. “What’s stopping you?” you whispered, almost afraid you would break the quiet ambience of the bar—the low humming of the fridges, the buzzing of the neon lights that you’d said you would turn off, but forgot.

His hand left your chin, moving to thread your hair through his fingers. “You tell me, angel,” he replied in kind, an amused grin on his face, he enjoyed toying with you.

He softly pulled on your hair, leaning your head back as his lips trailed down your jawline. Your mouth parted, silently moaning as his lips touched the spot below your earlobe. “Cheol,” you muttered.

“Mmn?” he hummed at the sound of his name leaving your lips. “Do you want it, baby?” he asked, his low and raspy tone pouring into your ears.

You wanted to answer, but words just ceased to exist. All you wanted—all you needed—was his hands on you. And Seungcheol knew it all too well.

His hands travelled from your parted thighs to your butt, squeezing lightly as he sighed through his nose. As he did this, his lips kept trailing down your neck with light kisses, each one more delicious than the last. You felt his smile as he reached the dip of your clavicle, knowing that it would elicit a louder moan from you.

“Here?” you squeaked. You grabbed onto his shirt, arms wrapped around his shoulders as he started to push you back onto the table.

“Yes, here,” he answered, the upper half of his body hovering over you as you lay back on the table. Seungcheol smiled, “Unless you want to wait until we get home.”

“Uuuh,” you closed your eyes. Seungcheol slipped a hand beneath your white tank-top, his touch warm and confident as he hiked the fabric up your tummy. His fingers grazed the line of your bra, making you swallow hard.

“Maybe I should make you wait,” he whispered, close to your lips so you felt his breath on you. “That’s the punishment you deserve.”

“No, please,” you whined, linking your arms around his shoulders. Pulling him closer, he crashed his lips with your own, kissing you harder, fervently. Seungcheol chuckled into the kiss, sending a shiver that nearly vibrated in your bones.

“I need to hear it, baby,” he murmured, creating smacking noises with each ardent kiss he propped on your lips.

His hand moved from the center of your belly to the underside of your torso, and slid under your back to command it to arch for him. You deepened the kiss, outlining his bottom lip with the tip of your tongue before pulling back. “Take me here,” you whispered sultrily, a rush of adrenaline going through you.

Seungcheol paused for a brief moment, making you think that he would follow his plan of punishing you, to make you wait. But he pulled back, a sweet grin painting his beautiful face as he looked at you. Then it hit you—all of the moments shared in the past with him, moments like this, moments that felt like breaking the rules, crossing the line.

But you felt safe, all the times he touched you, or kissed you, you felt like it just made sense.

“Are you ready?” he asked playfully, the corner of his lip curving up slightly when all you could muster was a nod. After getting your silent permission, his hand inched upwards on your back, unclasping your bra with efficiency.

The next moments happened hurriedly. Seungcheol started discarding the pieces of your clothing one by one, kissing your lips like a hungry man, barely stopping for air. You mumbled out some incoherencies about wanting him right then and there, but you were too caught up to actually make sense of your own words.

Seungcheol giggled into your lips, the sound only making your blood dance beneath your skin. He was getting rid of your bra, after he had gotten your tank-top out of the way. The bite of the cool surface beneath you made your skin prickle.

But he just sighed at the sight of you, dipping his head to kiss your collarbones again. His wet lips made a trail of light kisses, from the nook of your collarbones down your chest. He kissed your breasts gently, getting soft moans out of you as each kiss felt even sweeter.

You grabbed his blond hair with one hand, keeping your other hand flatly on his lean back. “Cheol,” you sighed.

Your eyes fell out of focus. The sight directly in front of you was stark compared to the stars and colors you saw every time you closed your eyes. Hanging from the ceiling was a lamp, forming a warm yellow pool around you. It hurt to stare at, but Seungcheol was a far better sight.

He pulled back, standing up right. A sigh escaped him as he started taking your sneakers off without looking away from you. You were half naked, torso bare, your hair forming a halo around your head.

Your sneakers fell on the floor, one after the other and you got ready to push your hips up for him just as his hands approached the waistband of your jeans. “Hurry up,” you mumbled, a playful giggle bubbling in your mouth.

Seungcheol clicked his tongue, slapping a hand down your hip before continuing to undo the button and zipper of your jeans. “Patience, baby.”

Then painfully slow, he hooked his fingers on the waistband of your jeans, grabbing your panties too and then started pulling them both down. You planted your feet on the edge of the table just to push your hips up for him to slide down your jeans and panties altogether, letting them drop to the white and black checkered floor.

You sat up on the table, going to grab for the black t-shirt he wore to tear it off him. But Seungcheol caught both of your hands linking his fingers with yours to keep you from undressing him.

You whined pathetically, to which Seungcheol only replied with a joyful giggle. He closed the gap between his lips and yours, kissing you swiftly.

“Behave.” He said, the word coming out of him raspy. “Behave or this ends now.”

A whiny exhale escaped your lips—a complaint that you couldn’t form properly in time. You knew that Seungcheol was a man that loved doting on you, but you also knew that he could keep his word, specially if it meant to punish you.

He loved it—seeing you all whiny, pouty, and pathetic for him. He loved knowing everything that made you subdue to him, every caress, every kiss, and where to place them.

Without any other word, Seungcheol sank down to his knees, his hands leaving yours to grope around the inside of your thighs, pushing them gently. You leaned back on your hands, parting your legs for him.

Your heart palpitated frantically at the sight of him, his hands keeping your thighs spread for him to bury his face between them. He started slowly, making his way with gentle kisses that he littered all over your inner thighs.

“Easy,” he reminded you, a twinge of playfulness in his eyes as he blinked up to your face. His eyebrow twitched up slightly before he dipped his head to run his tongue on your skin.

The feeling of his tongue so close to your pussy sent you in a frenzy, quickly making you forget where you were. You moaned loudly—lewdly, gearing up for the sweet pleasure that would ensue.

You heard a soft gasp—a smile that painted his lips, right before he licked a fat stripe between your folds. The moment you felt his tongue slide on your wet pussy, you instantly dissolved into pleasure. He started teasing you, licking you up and down, drinking you in, lapping at your wetness eagerly.

Slipping a hand on the back of his head, you tangled your fingers around the soft strands of his blond hair. His tongue reached the top of your mound, stopping before trapping your clit between his soft lips. You moaned louder, indicating to him to continue, but soon the bar filled with the sound of your moans.

Seungcheol sucked lightly at your clit, pressing his tongue on the swollen bud before he started moving it from side to side, very softly, gently, as though he were fearful he might overstim you quickly. But it only made your pleasure higher, making the rest of your body go numb, leaving your mind blank.

You nearly froze in place—sitting down at the edge of the pool table, one hand steading you, the other holding his hair. You tried to hold the angle of your hips for him, for his mouth pleasuring your pussy. His tongue kept the side to side motion on your clit, only picking up the pace but slowly, taking his time with you.

Your moans were soft, airy, and he responded in low hums as though telling you how much he loved your taste, the way you sounded. You imagined then how the scene would look from afar—Seungcheol on his knees, pleasuring you as you sat wholly naked on the pool table of his bar.

“Fuck,” you gritted, closing your eyes as you tilted your head back in utter, sweet pleasure. “Cheol, don’t stop. Please, daddy,” you mewled, not caring how pathetic you sounded—because you were close.

And he knew, he knew that you were toying on the line of your release. But he didn’t switch the pace of his tongue, he didn’t stop sucking lightly at your clit. He only kept going, and going, and going.

It was the steadiness of his tongue on you that finally pushed you to the edge. Your orgasm was sweet, like gentle waves washing over you. And your moans were just as sweet, crying out his name as you came apart on the table, taking deep breaths as your climax reached higher, and you couldn’t breathe anymore.

You relished the waves of pleasure consuming you, the way they gently subsided, leaving your body languid. You thread back his blond hair with your fingers, just as he gave your pussy a couple of kisses, giggling playfully as you twitched at the feeling.

The next moments happened in silence, fluidly. Seungcheol slipped a finger beneath your chin, tilting your head back to plant a kiss on your lips. You parted your mouth for him, just as he deepened the kiss, moving on your lips expertly. He hummed as your fingers searched at his belt blindly, unfastening with one swift move.

Just as you were undoing his pants, Seungcheol broke the kiss, crossing his arms down his belly to grab at the hem of his t-shirt, taking it off in one motion. He kissed you again, as if he would die if one more second passed without his lips on yours.

His breath hitched audibly when your hand reached beneath his boxers, your fingers circling around his girthy cock. You shuddered in anticipation when you felt how hard he was for you, humming into his lips as your hand rolled over the tip of his cock, feeling the wetness of the precum gathering in his slit.

“Hurry,” he echoed, making you giggle lightly.

 You pushed his boxers down, getting his cock out. Seungcheol leaned forward, his forehead bumping with yours lightly as you started rolling your hand on his hard cock. He swallowed hard, grunting a little as you scooted closer to him, guiding him to your pussy.

“Baby,” he whispered, a twinge of desperation echoing in his voice.

You whimpered slightly at the feeling of his cockhead nudging in your entrance as you pushed him with your fingers, every inch stretching your walls deliciously. “Seungcheol,” you mewled.

He placed his hands on your ass, holding you in place as he sank inside your walls, exhaling deeply. “I love you,” he mumbled. It sounded as though he’d been dying to tell you those words, as though he’d been dying to feel your warmth.

“I love you,” you replied, your tone merely above a whisper. You closed your eyes, enjoying the feeling of having him inside you, stuffing you full. 

His hand found your cheek, the pad of his thumb slipping beneath your jawline to steal a kiss from your lips. Seungcheol started moving his hips with shallow thrusts, as though he wanted to pair his thrusts with the slow movement of his lips on yours.

But then it soon changed—with a raspy groan, the pacing of his hips took a greedy speed. His hand left your cheek, quickly returning to your ass, where he held you as his hips started snapping against you faster.

You gasped, a hand found his shoulder while the other was flatly planted behind you on the table. You parted your legs more for him, leaning back slightly so he could take all of you—take whatever he wanted. You loved seeing him like this—the carnal desire overpowering him, making him nearly feral.

His jaw was tightly clasped, his eyes fluttering shut as he tilted his head back slightly. “Fuck,” he gritted.

You knew something had shifted in the air. What was once flooded with just your moans alone was now accompanied by the sound of skin slapping skin, low quiet groans from Seungcheol, and the squelching sounds of your dripping pussy.

The calculated rutting of his hips quickly took over you, and for a moment, you wanted to get lost in him. Seungcheol was utterly glorious, covered in a sheen layer of sweat from his forehead to his collarbones, a lazy smile spreading on his lips as he noticed the glazed look in your eyes.

You slowly lay back on the table, until your back was pressed on the cold surface. Seungcheol quickly grabbed your thighs, hooking them over his shoulders without slowing down the careless rutting of his hips.

The feeling became addictive, Seungcheol knew exactly what to do to bring you closer to the edge. He placed his hands on the table, at the height of your waist, pressing your thighs to your chest as he bent over. The rutting of his hips became deeper, making you feel the length of his cock, the tip hitting one spot that made you crazy. Quickly your moans became airy, until they were mere gasps.

“Fuck,” he gasped. “I need you to come, baby,” he urged with a low tone.

“I’m there,” you sighed. “Fuck, daddy. Please come with me,” you said with an embarrassingly honeyed tone.

Seungcheol gritted his teeth, a low grunt coming from him that told you just how close he was too. “Want me to cum inside you, baby?” he asked with fitful breaths.

You let out a whiny sound through your lips. “Yes, yes, please,” you gasped, succumbing to another sweet wave of pleasure. And then, before you could even think your words through— “Put a baby in me, Cheol.”

He gasped, his gaze snapping to your face. “You want that?” he asked breathlessly, his hips buckling against you. “Want me to make you a mommy?” 

The pleasure was so overwhelming, so sweet that you could barely talk. You nodded, blinking the tears away from your eyes to see his face.

His mouth parted, a silent moan escaping before the thrusts of his hips went languid. “God, angel,” he groaned helplessly. “I'm cumming,” he whispered, right before the features of his face relaxed, his eyelids fluttered shut, a vein on his forehead popping out as he came with you.  

Seungcheol groaned loudly, and you could tell by the depth of his thrust that he was cumming a lot inside you, filling you up. The thought drove you crazy, it nearly made you ask him to go again—to stop only when you were indeed pregnant. A shudder invaded you, making you whimper slightly.

He gave you a couple of sloppy thrusts, easing your legs gently from his shoulders to let you rest. You were both breathing hard, your ears buzzing as you tried to steady yourself. But the realization of what you said started sinking in. Seungcheol sighed, an eyebrow twitching up as he gave you an inquisitive look.

“What?” you whispered innocently, biting your bottom lip to avoid smiling.

“You’re cruel,” he pouted, standing up right so he could pull out of you, placing a hand on your belly as he pulled his hips from yours.

You shuddered at the loss. “Why?” you blinked up at him.

“Because—,” he giggled meekly, avoiding your eyes. “—you know what saying that does to me.”

You responded with a giggle of your own. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you said, sitting up on the table as he handed you your panties. 

But then—a loud, metallic snap. The shutting of the back door resounded from the back to where you and Seungcheol were. You winced in alarm, a hand quickly going to grab your tank-top.

Seungcheol quickly backed away, his hands steading you before you could make another move. “Stay there,” he cautioned, tucking himself back in his pants. His demeanor was so final that you had no choice but to ground yourself there.

He hurried to the hall that led to the back door, not bothering to put his t-shirt on. You sat on the edge of the table, with nothing to hear but the loud drumming of your heart. But he came back just as quickly, hand ruffling his hair, and a confused look on his face.

“It was Chan. Apparently he forgot his keys,” Seungcheol explained, walking up to where you sat still.

“Oh,” you uttered, frowning in confusion. “Did he…”

“Hear us? See us?” Seungcheol sighed, placing his hands on his hips. “Probably,” he cocked his head to one side then the other. “Most definitely.”

Your gaze fell out of focus. “How long had he been here?” You asked dumbly, but then, realization hit. You narrowed your eyes at him. “You knew he was here.”

Seungcheol’s gaze met yours. “I didn’t know for sure,” he shrugged, hands still parked on his hips. “I heard noises. Only a few of us have the key to get in and I know Wonwoo closed the door on his way out.”

Your mouth fell open. “So he never left?”

He nodded, blinking slowly. “I’ll talk to him tomorrow,” he said, placing himself between your legs again, hands finding the border of the table.

You gave him an incredulous look. “You wanted him to watch,” you said, wanting to muster up the slightest bit of annoyance at him. But his grin made it difficult for you to make any more accusatory remarks at him.

“I didn’t expect him to stay for so long,” he said, starting to chuckle at your expression in utter disbelief. “I thought he would just walk out but eventually I forgot,” he said, his eyes turning into half moons as he continued laughing.

You pushed one of his shoulders. “You forgot?!” you exclaimed, aghast.

“Baby, I don’t think you know,” he said, his tone rising as though he had discovered something.

You rolled your eyes. “Know what, exactly?”

He inched closer to you, taking advantage of your perplexion to grab your face with his hands. “You don’t know what you do to me,” he muttered, his tone gruff and low. “You don’t know how good you sound, how good you feel,” he sighed, his eyes coasting over the features of your face. “All I could focus on was you.”

“So you’re telling me that you just forgot that Chan was just down the hall?” you asked in utter confusion.

“Eh—,” he laughed airily, “kinda?”

You rolled your eyes. “You’re unbelievable, Choi Seungcheol,” you accused.

Seungcheol smiled at you giddily, bringing a hand to the back of your head to prop a light kiss on your lips. He let out a light sigh, giving you another small kiss. “Let’s go home.”

Your heart fluttered at the sound of those words, a swarm of butterflies dancing crazily inside your stomach. “Okay,” you whispered.

Instead of moving, Seungcheol stayed there, with his forehead pressed against yours. “You owe me a date,” he muttered.

“I do,” you replied in kind, pressing your lips slowly against his.

“How about tomorrow morning?” he asked, laughing lightly at his own urgency.

“You got it, boss,” you said, pulling back to see that smile painting his face. 

And for a moment, it was as though you had never left. Or at least that was how that fleeting moment felt.

The next day, morning light filtered through the curtains, painting soft, pale lines across the floor. The faint scent of Seungcheol’s deodorant lingered in the air, mixing with the scent of your shared bedroom. He had just finished showering after a workout at the gym downstairs, just as he always did every morning.

You were getting ready for your date—a quiet breakfast at a place of his choosing. He’d assured you that you’d like it. There was still some time before you had to leave, so you busied yourself with organizing your stuff—the small collection of your belongings you had brought into his apartment.

Right now, you were meant to be figuring out where to put your socks. You’d forgotten about them, still tucked away in your suitcase. After a moment of procrastination, you picked one of the drawers and started placing them inside, separated from Seungcheol’s.

“Baby,” he called from down the hallway. “We’re leaving in ten minutes.”

“Mm, yeah. Okay,” you agreed shortly.

It was impossible to ignore the looming feeling that it was odd to be living with Seungcheol. After so many times of wishing to go back to him, you were finally cementing something together.

You opened the first drawer, making space to transfer the clothes from your assigned drawer, carefully arranging his in the process. 

That was until your knuckles brushed against—a velvet, square box buried beneath a apile of socks and underwear. At first, you thought to move it aside, to tuck it into a more secure corner of the drawer. But as your fingers curled around the soft fabric, you didn’t really think about what you were holding. Instinctively, you lifted the box, intending to open it. 

Then, realization hit. 

A sharp breath lodged into your throat, and your hand snapped away from the lid, flying instead to your mouth to stifle an abrupt, overwhelming rush of emotion. A cold shudder ran through your body, weakening your knees, forcing you to stumble back and drop on the edge of the bed. 

“Baby?” Seungcheol’s voice drifted down the hall. “What’s wro–,”

But he stopped. Standing in the doorway, his eyes locked onto the small box in your hand. His expression didn’t shift, but the air in the bedroom grew thick and impossibly heavy. 

Without a word, he took three steps forward, sinking to his knees in front of you. 

“What’s this?” you asked, swallowing your fear, forcing yourself to meet his face.

Seungcheol didn’t answer immediately. Instead, his eyes flickered between your face and the box, reading every emotion weighing down across your features. His voice, when he finally spoke, was barely above a whisper. 

“Did you open it?” 

You shook your head. But the weight of the moment pressed down on you, crushing, suffocating. His reaction alone told you everything you needed to know. You knew this box. It resembled the ones he had given you before on anniversary dates or on your birthday. This one was slightly different. The ones before were small, elegant, wrapped in significance. This one was more deliberate. More final. 

“Baby, look at me,” he murmured. A warm hand cupped your face, and you choked on a sob at both the tenderness of his touch and the slow, painful realization of what lay inside that box. 

For the first time, Seungcheol seemed at a loss for words. You could see the war harboring inside him, the regret, the hesitation, the fear. But his first instinct wasn’t to come up with explanations. His thumb brushed softly against your cheek, his hands cupping your face again to ground you, steadying you. 

You sucked in a shaky breath. “Seungcheol, what’s inside it?” 

Seungcheol’s expression softened, his head tilting to one side when he saw your eyes begin to brim with big tears. “I need you to know something first,” he murmured, his voice thick with emotion. “When I bought this… I never imagined we wouldn’t be together.”

His fingers curled around the box, as though he could somehow protect you both from the truth inside it. As though he wanted to protect you from the pain he went through. 

“What is inside it?” you pressed again, unable to bring your voice any higher. 

He exhaled sharply, resigned. He locked his gaze to yours, and you slowly got to see how in your eyes he found strength, his breath steadying. His lips parted, but he didn’t need to speak. The answer was already hanging in the air between you. 

“Is it a ring?” Your body trembled as a sob tore through you, pain uncoiling in your chest, sharp and almost unbearable. “Please, Seungcheol, if it’s a ring—,”

“Yes,” he replied with a gentle tone, but you could feel the weight of the grief that he tried to keep away. “It’s a ring,” he admitted, watching you, reading every flinch, every breath. He took in all the pain that you showed. “It was meant to be yours.”

Your throat tightened painfully. “When?” the question left your lips before you could stop it, as though knowing the exact moment would somehow soften the burden. 

Seungcheol let out a tiny, soft breath through his nose, as though composing himself too before facing the shock that his next words would bring you: “For your twenty fourth birthday.”

Your face twisted as you brought a hand to cover your mouth again, a painful sob tearing through you, ripping through the quiet grief looming in the room. Just days before your twenty-fourth birthday, you had left him. That night, you spent your birthday in a different country, alone.  

“Baby, please, listen to me,” he muttered in a raw voice. Tears brimmed in his eyes as he reached to grab your hands. “Everything happened the way it did for a reason. It took me a long time to accept that.”

You could barely hear him over the ringing in your ears. The ache in your chest spread through your entire body, making your head pulse. Tears burned as they slipped down your cheeks. 

“But we’re here now,” he continued, his voice steadying even as his hand left yours and found your cheek again. “And we’re moving on. I wish things had been different for us, but we weren’t ready.”

“Why didn’t you say anything?” you asked in a tiny tone. You couldn’t bring yourself to look at him, you knew that if you did, the expression on his face would only shatter you completely. 

His breath hitched as he suppressed a sob. “Because I couldn’t let that be the reason you stayed. I couldn’t do that to you,” his tone was shaky, and by the sound of it you knew that he was crying.

His words landed like a punch to the gut. You turned to him then, and the sight nearly broke you. His dark eyes were glassy, fearful. But even through his own pain, his first instinct was to comfort you—to hold you together. That was Seungcheol. Always looking out for everybody else before tending to his own wounds. 

“All the time we lost….” You whispered, your throat tightening. “I could’ve stayed. We could’ve—,”

The words caught, breaking apart before you could even finish. Your mind spun, flashing through every possibility. Every what if. If he had proposed, you would’ve said yes. No hesitation. No doubt. Right now, you would be married. Living a different life. No sleepless nights. No endless aching. No running away, no trying—and failing—to forget him. 

His fingers curled around yours and the velvet box, gripping it like it was the last piece of a life you had both left behind. 

“But we weren’t ready,” he said, his voice was quiet, but firm, steady even as his own emotions still warred inside him. “I didn’t want to keep you here. I wanted you to keep going. To chase your dreams.”

“And what about what I wanted?” Your voice cracked as the question left you. Your mind was fogged under the pain you were carrying for years. It reverted you back to all of the times you said this to him, but now—now it felt like the first time you truly wanted an answer from him. 

His jaw clenched, his lips pressing together in a hard line. He was hurting, too. You could see it in the way he kept his breathing controlled, but deep, like that would dissolve the pain you were also feeling inside your chest. 

“Baby,” he whispered, the word soft in his lips, pleading. “We can’t keep letting this be a problem.” 

He was right. You knew he was right. But you were stubborn.

“I can’t be here right now–,” you mumbled, wiping your tears with the back of your hand quite harshly. You pushed yourself up from the bed, making him stand abruptly too, his eyes widening. You knew that look. “I need to think. I need some fresh air.”

His stomach twisted painfully when you motioned to the door. “Wait–,”

“I’ll be back, I just...” Your lip quivered, and your tone thickened as the tears kept coming: “This is too much for me. I just need to be alone for a moment.”

Seungcheol stood rigid, watching as you hurried out. The sound of the front door snapping shut sent a shudder through him. And then—everything came flooding back. The feeling that had wrecked him when you left years ago. The pain. The abandonment. The heartbreak. He had sworn he would never feel that again. 

But there he was. Breathing hard because the pain made him incapable of doing anything else.

You walked out. You left again.

“Wait,” he muttered, his instincts taking over. In a second, he was making his way towards the front door, and then the elevator, pulse hammering in his ears as he hit the button once, then twice— 

“Come on,” he gritted through his teeth. “Come on!” His palm slammed against the button until the doors finally parted to him. 

The moment he stepped outside of the building, his world spun wildly. The air felt think, suffocating. His heart stuttering like crazy, he felt dizzy. 

Where did you go?

His hand snapped to his pockets, no phone. His stomach dropping when he realized that you hadn’t taken yours either. “Fuck. Fuck!” the words escaped him in a frantic breath as he shoved his hands through his hair. Think, Seungcheol. Calm down.

You could’ve gone to the park, he reasoned. Without another thought, he hurried off, crossing the street without a care. His feet pounded against the pavement as he sprinted in direction to the park, cutting through the people strolling down the sidewalk. His chest burned, his mind raced. 

Frantically, he scanned the park, weaving through the crowd, searching through the sea of faces. 

And then, his heart clenched. A weight lifted from his heart so abruptly it almost made his mind spin again. 

There you were. 

Sitting on a swing, head leaned to the side, staring at the ground. Your fingers brushed under your eyes, wiping away your tears swiftly. The slight sway of the swing, the way your shoulders curled inward—it was all so painfully familiar. 

For years, Seungcheol had believed that he had taken the hardest blow. He was the one who stayed. He had to rebuild on the ashes of what he had lost when you left him. While you—you walked away. He had convinced himself that you had suffered less. 

But now, he saw it. 

The weight of your dreams slipping through your fingers. You raised your gaze when a small child ran across the sandbox, releasing a cry of joy as his mom chased after him. You let your gaze fall to your lap again. 

Guilt churned inside him. 

Slowly, Seungcheol approached, each step forcing him to steady his heart. When your eyes finally found him, they softened at the sight of him as he finished approaching you and sat on the swing next to yours.

“I’m sorry,” Seungcheol muttered, swallowing a lump of anxiety in his throat. “I know you said you just needed air but... I had to make sure.”

You nodded, sniffing. “I get it,” you whispered shakily. “That’s okay, I was heading back anyways.” You shrugged, it was a small gesture. A tell.

And Seungcheol caught that. “Do you need more time?” he asked, releasing a sigh, as if the weight of all his past fears had made a fool of him again. “I can go back inside. I’ll be waiting for you there.”

“Okay,” you murmured, rubbing the back of your hand to wipe your tears, still looking at your shoes. “I’ll be there in a moment.” 

“Okay,” he echoed softly, slowly rising from the swing. But just as his fingers slipped from the cold metal chain, yours caught his hand—your soft smaller fingers curling around his, stopping him in his tracks. 

He turned back, encountering the sight of your teary eyes again. His gut twisted. 

“Wait,” you whispered. “Stay. Please?” Your gaze dropped for a moment. “I’m sorry. I panicked,” you released a shaky breath, searching for words. “Can we… talk about this?” 

The knot in his throat loosened, relief rushing through him. “Of course.”

You were still sitting on the swing, so he knelt in the sand before you, leveling himself with your gaze. His heart clenched at the sight of you—rosy cheeks, swollen lips, dark lashes clumped together from the tears you have shed. 

Seungcheol didn’t know where to start. This was a mess, and deep down, he had known something like this would happen the moment you walked back into his life. 

“Seungcheol,” you finally started, your voice quiet, but fragile, “why didn’t you tell me you had a ring?” 

The question was one that you had asked before. But it still made his chest tighten. 

“When I broke up with you, you could’ve told me,” you took in a big breath, trying to steady yourself.

Your hand was still gripping his, so he simply shifted, threading his fingers with yours. “I didn’t want to hold you back,” he admitted. “If I had told you I had was planning to propose, you would’ve stayed. And your plans, your dreams… I wanted you to have the chance to fulfill them.”

Your face crumpled. Eyebrows knitted, lower lip trembling. “I was miserable, Seungcheol,” you whispered, your eyes brimming with sorrowful tears. “I had to give you up to go after those dreams. But what I wanted—what I really wanted—was to start a life with you. I wanted kids, I wanted… everything.” 

“I’m sorry,” he choked out, lowering his gaze, feeling ashamed. “I wasn’t ready. You were right about that. I let myself get caught up in dumb things—I thought I wouldn’t be enough for you. That I couldn’t give you the life you deserved.” 

Seungcheol used to think that his mistakes were what led him to losing you. Slowly those mistakes turned into regrets. But when he looked at you now, he didn’t see mistakes. 

He saw the love of his life. The girl who had stolen his heart upon first sight. The one who made him feel alive, who made him feel like he was himself again. 

Reaching into the pocket of his sweats, he pulled out the small velvet box. His fingers trembled as he placed it in your hands again, wrapping your fingers around it. 

“You have always been the one I wanted,” he whispered, voice shaking, tears slipping freely now. “From the moment we met, I knew it was you. It’s always been you.”

You curled your fingers around the small box he placed in your hands, you looked at it for a second before lifting your gaze to meet his. 

He held on tighter, his eyes wide—fear flickering in them. “This is how sure I am,” he whispered. But if you decided to open that box right now, he wouldn’t hesitate. He was ready now.  

You raised the box in your hand, outlining the sides of the lid with the tip of your trembling fingers. The knot in your stomach tightened. “Not like this,” you whispered, lowering the box to your lap. “I don’t want you to propose to me like this,” you could barely bring yourself to mutter those words. 

The summer night breeze brushed the nape of your neck, cool against your heated skin. A slight shiver ran through you. And Seungcheol noticed. He always noticed. He looked at you longingly, as though seeing you in the back of his head too, a distant memory reverting him back to those uni days. It felt like a lifetime ago, yet somehow, his love for you hadn’t faded. 

Slowly, you reached out, cupping his cheek. Your cold thumb brushed away the tear that had slipped down his face. His breath hitched slightly at your touch, but he welcomed it. 

“I love you, Seungcheol,” you said, your voice barely holding back emotion. “But I want us to do it right. We still need to rebuild some things in our relationship before we take the next steps. Maybe… maybe we should wait a little.”

Seungcheol caught your wrist, pressing a long kiss to the center of your palm. “I want that too, baby.” He murmured, pressing another kiss there. “I want us to be stronger than we were before. Let’s wait, then.” 

“But only a little,” you added with a sweet, tearful giggle.  

His chest swelled at the sound. “You’re the boss,” he smiled, and it was that smile, soft at the corners, making his dark eyes gleam. It reminded you of every reason you had ever loved him. 

“Come on,” he said, standing up and slipping the box back into his pocket. “Let’s go home.” 

Home. 

For so long after you left him, that word had lost its meaning. You thought that you’d never get that feeling again with anyone else—the safety, the familiarity. There is no one you trusted more than him.

But you did now, you felt it again. 

You took his outstretched hand, rising to your feet too. Walking side by side through the park with him toward the apartment where you were building something new with him. Something stronger. 

You were home again. 

✧ author's note: life is funny because i started this draft on nov 9 2023 and so much has happened ever since. i thought i'd never understand what going through a painful breakup would feel like. but now i do. and i also know what moving on feels like. funny, huh?

this chapter was shorter than i initially planned though, i hope you guys enjoyed it (?) haha idk, it was really heavy on the angst and i let this draft sit for months and months i feel guilty about that

also, an addendum: in the previous chapter, jeonghan makes a reference to the fic city lights chapter 9 and lights out chapter 1 for those that may not know. for those who do know, i kind of skipped the timeline by a looooong mile haha. but idc, i just wanted the angst and to torture hannie w some heartache

anyway,

✧ STAY TUNED FOR PART SIX !! ✧

PREVIOUS CHAPTERS | BUY ME A COFFEE? (●'◡'●)

© TO HANNIEWEEN — I DO NOT ALLOW TRANSLATIONS, CONTINUATIONS, REIMAGINATIONS OF MY WORKS OR THEIR REPOSTING ON OTHER WEBSITES.

[ivyues]

Stray Kids Masterlist

Reactions:

Surprise Visits and Silent Tears: Finding their S/O crying (hurt/comfort, fluff)

Animal Fears: Their S/O's SKZOO phobia (fluff, humor)

Rejected Embraces and Heavy Hearts: Their S/O refusing a hug (angst) -> pt.2: Reconciling Comfort (hurt/comfort, fluff)

Unfiltered Beauty: Their S/O not wearing makeup often (fluff, humor)

Unlocked Trust: The sharing of a phone PIN (humor)

Passionate Attacks: Their S/O suddenly kissing them (suggestive, fluff)

First-Night-Nerves and Quite Moments: First sleepovers (fluff)

Scars of the Past: Finding out their S/O was cheated on in the past (hurt/comfort, fluff)

Anxious Introductions: Their S/O being nervous to meet the members (fluff)

Friendly Fire: Accidently causing their S/O a minor injury (fluff, hurt/comfort, angst-isch)

Sleeves Pulled Back: Their S/O's s/h scars (hurt/comfort, fluff)

Echos of Home: Their S/O not being close with their parents (hurt/comfort, angst-isch fluff)

Reunited Moments: Seeing their S/O after a long time (comfort, fluff)

Sibling Bonds: Skz x Member's sister Scenarios (humor, fluff)

Cold Hands, Warm Hearts: Their S/O always having cold hands (fluff)

Love Bites: Their S/O scolding them for having left a hickey (humor)

Warmth between us: Their S/O having warm hands (fluff, humor, hurt/comfort)

Imagines:

– Bang Chan –

One-Time Special Edition: You not being cuddly changed one morning (fluff)

Ruined for anyone else: "If we ever broke up, I think you ruined me for anyone else" (fluff)

Studio Interruptions: Changbin didn't expect to walk in on an passionate encounter (fluff, humor)

Dreaming of Peaches: He has a dream of little curls and your eyes (fluff)

Laptop Delivery: Practice got a little more eventful thanks to an forgotten laptop (humor, fluff)

A Lap to Nap: He finds peace in your lap, but duty calls him back to the studio (fluff, humor)

Boyfriend Taxi: He thought he was just dropping you off, but now he's meeting your friends (fluff, humor)

Beneath the Midnight Stars: "I didn't want to date, but now you're the one thing holding everything together" (fluff)

Chasing Yesterday: Years after splitting paths, he didn't expect a text to bring an old friend – and old feelings – back into his life pt.2, pt.3, pt.4, pt.5 (fluff, 10k)

Hotter Than Expected: How you found out your boyfriend can't handle spicy food (humor, fluff)

Someday: Under the Australian sunset, he stands in front of his first and current love, one he wants forever (fluff)

– Lee Know –

Aishitemasu: His motivation for studying Japanese might not just be due to the fans (humor, fluff)

Early Bird: While you're still tangled in the sheets, he fills the kitchen with quite affection (fluff)

Feline Approval: How Soonie and he agreed you were the one (fluff)

A Promise: With his enlistment approaching, he contemplates building a deeper commitment with you (fluff)

Quite Rhythms: As the neighbour's music seeps through the walls, he pulls you close (fluff)

– Han –

Borrowed Warmth: Han didn’t realize the hoodie he grabbed wasn’t his (fluff, humor)

Lyric stolen, Heart taken: During your date night, you stumble upon lyrics that feel a little too familiar (fluff)

Soft Nuzzles: Lately, you couldn’t shake the urge to nuzzle into Han’s neck (fuff)

Mornings with You (and low Ceilings): Your boyfriend and your studio apartment ceiling don't quite get along (fluff)

Just One More: Goodbyes always take a little longer thanks to your lovely boyfriend (fluff)

In their World: It was silly, the way your heart always aches ever so slightly whenever you see the bond they share (hurt/comfort)

– Seungmin –

Sm x Lee Know's sister (fluff, humor, ~ 10k)

pt.1: Tangled Lines

pt.2: Caught in the Middle

pt.3: Future Hyung-in-Law

pt.4: Chauffeur Duties

pt.5: Puppy Love

Paws off my Human: Meeting your dog was more difficult than he thought (fluff, humor)

1 Month, 1.000 Jokes: To him, you being slightly older was never a big deal (humor, fluff)

[softaestluv]

Three’s A Crowd

Ghoap x Neighbor! Reader

Pt. 1, Pt. 2, Pt. 3, Pt. 4, Pt. 5

Tags: Teasing, Flirting, Attempt at humor, Ghoap are cocky dicks who also have big d!cks, butt plugs, lingerie, dirty talk, & self masturbation

This chapter does contain smut! 18+ content!

Summary: When you moved into your new apartment complex you thought your biggest concern would be something practical such as mold in the shower or weak water pressure. Maybe even the smell of lingering cigarette smoke or marijuana from previous tenants.

You never expected it to be your neighbors who seemed to have a sex drive that rivaled any succubus or horned college teenager.

A box.

A small box left on your doorstep.

You had assumed it was a package you ordered, even though you didn’t quite remember ordering one. However, the box wasn’t what frazzled you; it was the contents inside that had your face burning.

It was a lingerie set.

Pink lace.

Tiniest thong you’ve ever seen, decorated with delicate frills.

Thigh highs with a garter belt, two white bows on the back of each stocking.

Baby doll dress, see-through and ruffled.

A small metal item, a pink diamond skull etched on the end of the cork, had you furrowing your brows at the sight. You didn’t know what it was, but you definitely didn’t order it.

You closed the box, reading the name out loud, “Simon Riley.”

You didn’t know a Simon. Didn’t know a neighbor named Simon. You couldn’t imagine any of your other neighbors ordering these items besides John and Lieutenant Riley next door. Though, the lingerie looked a little too small to fit John.

Either way you made your way over, knocking on their door. Greeted by a clothed Riley, thanking the gods above that you didn’t have to stare at his defined pecs or hips bones.

“Uhm, I think I might’ve got one of your packages on accident.”

“Hhm?” He hummed, opening the flaps of the cardboard as you held it out to him on your palms.

He pulled the babydoll dress out, holding it between the two of you. Your face burnt at the sight, embarrassment stinging your chest as he held it up like it was nothing. Held it for any other neighbor to walk out and see. Looked even tinier in his large palms.

“Hmm, no. It’s yours.”

You shook your head, laughing stiffly, “Ah, no, I didn’t order this.”

“I know.” He placed the baby doll back in the box and closed the flaps, tapping his fingers on the top, “I did.”

“What?”

“I ripped your panties didn’t I?” He mused, leaning against the door frame, and crossed his arms. A smug position you were starting to get tired of.

“This is more than panties.” You deadpanned, clenching your fingers around the stupid cardboard.

“Thought you would look good in these too,” He said, shrugging his shoulders like you were talking about the weather and not sexy lingerie that he had bought you.

You, a complete stranger to him other than living next to him. And he was buying you lingerie of all things. A first for a housewarming gift.

“What about this?” You asked, grabbing the metal cork, “What’s this?”

He chuckled darkly, “A butt plug.”

“What?” Your eyes widened, dropping it into the box like it burnt your fingertips, “What am I supposed to do with that?”

“Well,” He smirked, pulling it back out, “I got you a small one. I assumed you’ve never used one before, so it should be pretty easy for you to make fit. It just keeps you stretched and prepped for anal sex. Though, you’ll have to finger yourself first. But Johnny and I can always help you with that, if you want.”

Your mouth gaped, frantically waving a free hand in front of him to get him to shut the hell up, ears ringing with warmth, “Stop! Stop! Please! I get it!”

You placed the box against his chest, shaking your head earnestly, “I’m not taking this.”

“I bought it for you, doll.”

“I’m never going to wear this,” You said, emphasizing your words when you pointed to the butt plug, “Or use that.”

“Keep it. You might change your mind someday. Or think of us when using it, at least.”

With that, he closed the door and left you standing in the open hallway with a box full of lingerie and sex toys. At least you finally knew the masked man’s first name.

You had planned not to use the items— ever.

Had thrown them in your closet the moment you returned from the embarrassing interaction in the hallway. Couldn’t believe the audacity of your cocky-ass neighbors.

Just because they were sex addicts didn’t mean everyone was fine with receiving sex toys as gifts.

Your past lovers hadn’t even bought you sex toys or lingerie, for that matter. None of which would even imagine using a toy on you.

Except a few days later, you had been awakened to, big surprise, John’s Scottish moaning. You don’t know what came over you, why you had laid awake and willingly listened to the noises they were making. Didn’t try to drown them out with headphones or pillows.

Maybe it’s because in the back of your mind there was that box in your closet, dainty frills, and metal butt plug.

The fact that they had bought it with you in mind, imagined you in the delicate lace, and pink metal. Had thought you would look pretty in it, made you jump up, digging through your closet to find the stupid box.

You didn’t even know how to use one, never had anything near your ass before. But Simon’s words kept ringing in your head, and for some reason, their deep grunts had your body hot. Burning with uncertain desire. Laid there: butt plug in one hand, lube in the other.

Maybe this was their plan all along; moan so loudly that one day your body would react, would have your core warming.

It didn’t fucking matter why because they would never know, would never actually see you in it. So you gathered the lube on your index finger before you could have second thoughts, dipping into your panties. Goosebumps formed on your skin at the cold consistency, jumping slightly in reaction.

You started slow, spreading the lube around your rim. It wasn’t necessarily an amazing feeling, but your nerves had you reacting strongly, uncharted territory made it that more exciting.

When you built enough courage you slipped the tip of your index finger in, fighting the resistance from your walls, inhaling deep at the foreign intrusion. It didn’t hurt, but it did feel uncomfortable. Felt full, like your finger didn’t belong there. It was harder to push the whole digit in, had to regulate your breathing to bottom out.

“There we go, Johnny.” Simon’s voice came through the wall, hoarse and tense.

Made you clench around your finger, breathe hiccuping as you imagined he was saying it to you. That he was praising you for taking one of his fingers.

You couldn’t even imagine how his or John’s fingers would feel inside you. Your index finger alone had you adjusting to the stretch, and their hands were twice the size of yours.

Your hips arched down before you even realized it; instincts seeking out a different kind of stretch. A stretch only the men across the wall could provide, brawny and massive. Would have you stretched thin around their thick knuckles.

You tried to push your middle finger in, but your walls wouldn’t have it. Made you whimper quietly under your breath when you had to scrape your index finger through the ridges of your walls, making yourself lax and pliant to press your second finger in.

The second finger hurt, had your eyes widening and your body tensing tightly, but it was as if Simon knew, mumbled praises to John just when you needed.

“You can take it, be a good boy for me.”

His low drawl practically had your body loosening and the whine that followed from John after made the burn subside slightly.

Your legs were shaking as you bottomed the second finger out, couldn’t hold in the soft mewls that slipped past your throat when you slowly began to fuck them in and out of your walls. Trying your best to ignore the pain, focus on Simon and John’s moans and praised and not the sting.

Pretend as if you were in the room with them, that you weren’t a block of plaster away. That it was Simon’s fingers inside of you, John’s fingers on your clit, both of them on either side of your frame, whispering low hums in your ears.

You were embarrassingly close to finishing, hadn’t even inserted the butt plug. So you lathered the cold metal in lube, pressed it to your hole, tried your best to relax as you bullied it through your walls. Squeezed your eyes tightly shut as the slender tip enlarged, and broke through your entrance with a wet pop.

Made you snap your hips down with a loud gasp, eyes welling with tears at the intrusion. A gasp so loud the motions behind the walls stopped, noises dying into silence as you slapped your hand over your mouth. Eyes widened in embarrassment because they definitely heard that.

But that wasn’t even the most distracting part; the butt plug was pressed to the hilt now, gem rested against your rim. Had your breaths faltering in your chest, felt incredibly full.

“Did ya hear that, Johnny?”

“I did, Si.”

You cringed, burying yourself into your blankets, butt plug forgotten, face burnt too strongly to care about anything else.

“Think our birdie decided to join us.”

You held your breath, made yourself as tiny as possible between your sheets, and tried to make no noise. Hide from them even from the comfort of your own sheets. But your movements made the butt plug press deep into your walls, had you crying out in shock.

A noise that had both men chuckling darkly behind the wall, continuing the onslaught of thrusts, you presumed, to Johnny.

Their acknowledgment, the fact that they knew you were across the way, fucking yourself with the butt plug they bought you. To their fucking noises had your body heating in a way you’ve never felt before, embarrassment, humiliation. But it made any uncomfortable tenses from the plug evaporated from your body, melting into blinding pleasure.

Each thrust had you reacting stronger than the last, moans matching that of the men across the wall. Quivering as you replayed their words in your mind.

‘our birdie’

Made each movement that more intense.

Didn’t even care that they could hear you, synced your motions with them, clenching down sporadically around the bulb as you came, Johnny’s moans edging you along as you convulsed. Squeezed the plug so tightly you were sure it would break in two.

Came undone around the stupid butt plug they bought you, to the sounds you had grown to despise.

Tag list: @avatar-lover @cheese-pull @entityunbound @theheartcollecter @leon-thot-kennedy @yunho-leeknow @star-buck-barnes @bluebarrybubblez

[noctiva]

hi cuteness!! I cannot wait for pt 2 of your toby fic to arrive.. I am literally refreshing every chance grahhhhh >-<

any thoughts on toby x fem reader and kind of like ur recent one of reader giving head after a long day but just the other way around??? dying and begging for soft anything with toby, penetrative or not!!! I hope you're doing well and I feel awful for requesting bc you seem so busy!

-🦇

hello my love!! thank you so so much i know this is long overdue but don’t everrrrrr feel bad for requesting! your girl is booked and busy but that’s the way I like it! constant stream of toby thirst fuel? yes puhleasee

//

Nectar

Toby Rogers x F!Reader [NSFW!]

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WC: 7.1k

Summary: Toby works so hard just to make it home to you. He wants to make sure you know that.

CW: mentions of death and injury, semi-detailed descriptions of murder, blood, explicit sexual content, oral sex (female receiving), dirty talk, praise and sweet talk, little bit of overstimulation, hair pulling, biting, scent kink?? I guess, unsafe sex, established relationship, they’re so in love it’s sickening.

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NSFW under the cut! Minors do not interact!

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He did this all for you.

The blood on his hands, the heaviness of his muscles, how his eyelids drooped with fatigue even though his mission was hours from being over. Toby did it all for you. All just to keep you safe, comfortable, and happy.

Ever since he had met you, you had been his driving force. Knowing that being close to you was dangerous, but being too selfish to stay away anyways. Because of that, he forced himself to work overtime - picking up more missions, harder missions, proving his worth and dissuading any suspicion that might be building up around him. It was tiring work, but it was worth it, because in return he got rewarded with the warmth of your body against his.

Your soft skin, pressed against his calloused and scar ridden body. Your hair, always smelling so sweet because of that strawberry shampoo you loved so dearly. Your eyes, always warm and brimming with love as you looked up at him like he was the only man in the world. The gentle melody that was your voice, speaking his name like it was holy scripture.

It was hard to think about anything other than you, even when he was knee deep in carnage and sinew - blood caking onto his skin with each brutal swing of his hatchets. It was more like working on autopilot, barely even mentally present as his blade cracked open the skull of some unfortunate soul who had made their way onto his hit list.

He just had to get it done. Because once it was all over, he could skip right on home to you - and promptly bury himself in your warmth if you’d allow it.

He just wanted to pull you in close, nuzzle into your hair and breathe your scent in deep. Wash away the sickly smell of copper with the sweetness that clung to you daily. Wanted to sink his fingers into your soft, yielding flesh - dig into your hips and leave indentations behind. Slip down lower to rake his nails against the fat of your ass.

Part his lips and taste you. Licking across your neck to gather the taste of your perfume mixed with sweat, travel down to your cleavage and nuzzle into the valley of your breasts, feeling your heartbeat thump against his cheek.

He wouldn’t normally call himself desperate, but you brought it out in him. You were the perfect woman, in his eyes. Not a single flaw - like god had sculpted you to be someone pulled straight from his dreams. He constantly wondered how he managed to get you, constantly worried that someday he may lose you, and so therefore - constantly wanted to be as close as possible.

On days like today, when he was five hours deep into a mission two hours away from you - it was truly a taxing endeavour to not think about you every second you were apart.

“Rogers! I think he’s dead.” Tim’s voice snapped Toby out of his daydream quickly, tugging him back into the brutal present that he was unfortunately a part of. Kneeled above a mangled corpse, fingers still curled around the handles of his two hatchets, staring down at a face that was more mush than discernible features.

“H-Huh?” Toby faltered, eyes blinking slow as he took in the gruesome scene beneath him - such a stark contrast to the cushy daydream he had just been swimming through. “Oh.” He lowered his weapons and dropped them to the ground beside him, then looking up to Tim, who was staring down at him with a pretty unimpressed expression. “Y-Yeah, I guess you’re ruh-right.”

“Made such a fuckin’ mess.” Tim huffed softly as he examined the sight before him - the smashed head of Toby’s victim practically melting into the ground below it, and the perpetrator completely soaked from the chest up with blood and gore. It was no secret that Toby was the most… Eccentric, out of their little rag tag group of killers, and his victims really got the short straw, but the cleanup for this would probably tack an extra hour onto their time here. “Did you really have to turn him into minced meat?”

If Toby was being honest, he barely remembered the kill at all. Had been too preoccupied living in the fantasy world in his mind, where he was already home and nestled between your thighs. A place he would much rather be than here, and his heart ached knowing you were sat at home waiting for his return.

Were you snuggled up in one of his sweaters while having a little nap to pass the time? Maybe cozied up by the fireplace, working through that book he had bought you a few weeks ago? Whatever you were doing, he wished he was there to watch you do it. Be with you, while you did it. You always slept best curled up against his chest anyway.

“I d-dunno. Wasn’t- chirp! -wasn’t thinking.” He muttered back, slowing pulling himself up onto his feet, leaving two indents in the ground below him where his knees had once dug in.

“Clearly.” Tim snorted and rolled his eyes, before digging into his jacket pocket and pulling out a carton of smokes. He tapped two out of the pack and promptly slotted one between his lips, before lazily tossing the other one at Toby - who fumbled to catch it. “Clean this up. Me and Brian are almost ready to go.”

And so he did, grumbling in annoyance to himself as he cleared away and disposed of what was left of his victim. The longer it took, the more antsy he got, the soft buzz of nicotine not even doing anything to dissuade the impatience flowing through his veins. He just wanted to be home. Just wanted to be home with you, where everything was tenfold better. Where all the blood and grime was just a distant memory, where he could just live as a human being - not as a tool.

By the time he was done, he was aching for you.

Images of you flashing behind his eyelids the whole drive home, fingers itching and twitching with the craving to smooth against your skin. He knew it was desperate, and downright pathetic how he could barely stomach half a day away from his girlfriend - but he didn’t care. If he had it his way, you’d be at an arms reach at all times.

But maybe, time away from you just made seeing you again that much better.

Though he was tired, he made it to the door of your shared cabin in record time - fishing his keys out of his pocket to unlock it. Then, he was pushing it open, and immediately scanning the area. You weren’t in the living room, and he couldn’t hear you milling about in the kitchen. Kicking off his boots and setting his hatchets down on the bench in the entryway, he wandered through his home - peeking into the kitchen just to be sure you weren’t just being quiet.

When he didn’t find you, he padded off to your shared bedroom, absentmindedly tugging his goggles off of his head and wiping blood from the lenses with the bottom hem of his hoodie.

The door was cracked, and so he slowly pushed it open with his shoulder, before being greeted with a sight that nearly made him melt into a puddle against the hardwood flooring.

You were curled up in the sheets, lips parted and eyes fluttered shut as soft slow breaths slipped from your mouth. Your hair was fanned out against the pillow below your head, the fingers of your right hand still curled around the pages of the book you had been reading. You were wearing one of his t-shirts, the material hanging loose and flowy over your peaceful body - swaddled in his scent, which had presumably lulled you to sleep.

So beautiful. It nearly knocked the wind out of him every time he gazed upon you, but especially right now. It was as if an angel had dropped straight from heaven, and landed in his bed.

Once he broke free of the lovestruck stupor that had frozen him in place, he was moving immediately. Gravitating towards you like one magnet to another, tugging off his bloodstained sweater to leave him in just a (arguably) clean black t-shirt. His hands were still bloody, as was his face, but he couldn’t stand another moment without touching you - especially when you looked so lovely. And so, he slid into bed next to you, knowing that you’d probably chastise him for staining the sheets but not caring in the slightest.

His arms snaked around your torso, wrapping you in an embrace as he pulled you in close to his chest. Smiling softly to himself at the soft, sweet little sleepy grumble you let out from being disturbed. Next, his legs intertwined with yours, and his face found a home in the crook of your neck - wrapping you up so completely in his warmth, it seemed as if he was trying to meld into you completely.

“P-Pretty girl.” Toby murmured softly next to your ear, before planting a soft fleeting kiss against the lobe. “Missed you.”

You shift, clearly being tugged from your slumber by his presence, and so he presses further - nuzzling into your neck with a content hum, fingers drawing lazy patterns on your stomach through the fabric of your t-shirt. Then again, he kisses your skin. Again, when you start to stretch your limbs and let out a yawn. Again, when your eyes are slowly fluttering open. Peppering the length of your neck with soft pecks, so that you’d wake up while being showered in his love.

Maybe, the nicest thing to do would just be to let you sleep, but he had been restless all day. He needed to hear your voice, and see your smile, or he knew he’d barely catch a wink of sleep.

“Toby?” Is the first word you mumble when you come to, your voice raspy and thick with sleep - laced with a combination of confusion and hope.

“Who e-else?” Toby chuckles softly in reply, as his slid his hands downwards until they were resting against your hipbones - giving a gentle squeeze before tugging you in closer. Slotting you against him completely, like he’d die if he wasn’t pressed against you in every way possible. “Missed you.” He repeats again, knowing now that you’d actually hear him, before punctuating his words with yet another gentle kiss. This one, on the slope of your shoulder.

“Missed you too.” You hum back to him, eyes fluttering at the feeling of his lips dancing across your skin. Leaving a patch of tingles wherever he made contact, sweet gentle kisses that lit you up completely. Body still heavy with sleep, muscles and limbs stiff and achy, but slowly unfurling as his gentle touches coaxed out a comfortable relaxation. “Missed you more.”

A soft chuckle rumbles from Toby’s chest, and you can feel the vibrations of it against your back. He drags his nose up the side of your neck, before nuzzling into your hair and taking a deep breath in - relishing in the warmth that flooded his veins as the sweet scent of you swirled around his head.

“Y-Yeah?” He murmurs back to you. “So much th-that you fell asleep?”

“Hey!” You grumble back to him, eyebrows furrowing together as you try to crane your neck back to look at him. It’s practically an impossible venture though, with the way he’s curled up into you. “You were gone for a while. Have you checked the time?”

“I know, I-I know.” Finally, Toby peels himself from your body, but not to move away, only to shift. Rolling onto you gently, pressing you back into the soft sheets so that he could actually get a good look at that pretty face of yours. Eyes still hazy and sleepy, the cutest little pout on those plush lips. Laid beneath him all soft and sweet, like a gift to be unwrapped. All of the misfortune and gore that seemed to follow him around didn’t hold an ounce of weight during times like these, as far as Toby was convinced - he was the luckiest man in the world. “I’m just k-kiddin’, baby. I’m sorry I got home s-so late.”

He reaches up to cup your face with his stained hands, smoothing the pads of his thumbs against your cheeks. It’s the most beautiful sight, when you melt into the touch, leaning into him though the evidence of his crimes was still streaked across his skin. You never minded though, you were always so forgiving of him, even if you knew deep down how wretched he was.

“Could’ve at least showered before you woke me up.” You hum back to him softly, eyes scanning across his face - lingering on every speckle of blood that stood out so starkly against his pale skin. The thought of how it got there, what he had done before coming home to you, it should make you nauseous - but it didn’t. It never did. For reasons you couldn’t begin to try and explain, more easily just chalking it up to be because you loved him. “You’re gonna stain the sheets.”

“I’ll wash ‘em.” Toby laughs softly, eyes crinkling at the corners before he was dipping his head down to nudge into the crook of your neck once more. His breath warm against your skin, fingers rough as they trailed down your jaw to rest under the swell of your breast.

“You won’t.” You huff back to him, the annoyance in your voice a complete facade that proved obvious when your lips twitched upwards at the corners. Your hand comes up, lazily threading into the messy hair atop his head as he goes back to leaving sloppy kisses against your skin - his teeth grazing against you every now and then, causing your arms to pebble with goosebumps.

“I will.” Shifting to fully straddle you, Toby’s thighs rest on either side of your hips, caging you in. His hand wanders not enough to cross the line, but enough to make his intentions clear as he gently cups your breast with his palm - feeling the weight of it, braless in his hold. Fingers twitching and jerking as he tried his best to be as gentle as possible. It was hard to be, when you were so soft it was if your body was begging for him to sink in deep - but he didn’t want to be rough with you.

Though you did always look so lovely, marked with the evidence of his claim, he wanted to leave your skin spotless tonight. Treat you with the carefulness of someone handling fine china. Because that’s what you deserved, really, for putting up with all that you did. For putting up with him. Caring for him. Looking past all of his misdeeds like they were nothing.

You were a goddess. A saint. And so it would only be fair, to worship you like one. “I j-just really missed you.” He gently palms your breast, as his other hand trails down to cup your waist, all while his kisses slowly turned more and more insistent. Lips parting, tongue darting out to lave at your neck, savouring the flavour of your skin on his tastebuds. Breathing you in, caressing the skin his hands had ached to touch all day, unable to get enough now that you were beneath his fingertips. “Left you a-alone for way too long.”

“I passed the time.” You murmur to him, letting out a little sigh as a shudder goes down your spine, unable to help the way your body responded when Toby was showering you in such tender affection. Not being hasty, or greedy, paying ample attention to every spot before he moved onto the next.

“Yeah?” His thumb rolls over your nipple through the thin fabric of your shirt, a small rumble of appreciation vibrating from his chest at the feeling of it perking up under his touch. His teeth nip your earlobe lightly, and his other hand squeezes your waist gently, before he’s asking; “W-What did you do?”

It’s a little hard to answer, when you have your boyfriend on top of you, seemingly hellbent on slowly but surely riling you up to a maddening degree. Giving you just enough to leave you wanting more, generating a heat that was trickling down your body - lower and lower until you were squeezing your thighs together. Trying to stay put together, but failing, because every touch was pulling you undone more and more - evident by the flush that had started to creep onto your cheeks.

Still though, you try anyway.

“Went on a walk.” Toby squeezes your breast gently, kneading the supple flesh in his palm as he lets out a barely audible groan against your skin. “F-Finished that scarf I was trying to make.” Your thighs were twitching, breathing growing shakier as Toby lips trailed from your neck to your collarbone - nudging the collar of your shirt out of the way to gain access to more skin.

“B-Busy girl.” He mumbles against you, making your hips jolt when his fingers teasingly dipped under the hem of your shirt - pleased to find that you were only wearing panties beneath it. “What else?” He doesn’t touch you fully, not yet, settling instead on just grazing his fingers against the lace, giving you the ghost of his touch and nothing more. He wanted you melting before he even got you bare. Wanting to savour this, not wanting to rush it after spending all day salivating over the thought of it.

This wasn’t about him though, when you peeled back all the layers of his desperation, this was all about you. Treating your body with the tenderness it deserved, working you up in an almost delicate manner, leaving you shaky and breathless before he even touched you proper. Absolutely dripping for him, by the time he got a taste.

And well, he was succeeding. You were sure that the warmth you were bathed in was radiating off of you, your impatience clear when your hips jumped at the slightest touch. Searching, begging for friction to placate the ache between your thighs. You could feel your panties growing damp, slickness pooling between your folds as Toby played your body like a damn fiddle. Always knowing just how to touch you to make you squirm, how to make your breathing go shallow in just a matter of moments.

“Practiced- ah!” A surge of pleasure ricocheted through your body the moment his fingers dipped down lower, doing nothing more than just pressing against your cunt lightly - but having you so worked up by now that it’s enough to make your entire body buzz. “Practiced piano, a- a little bit.”

“Mm, y-you’ll have to play f-for me sometime.” Slowly, he rubs gentle circles against you through your panties, his own breathing hitching as your slick wets his fingers through the fabric. “Bet you’re g-getting real good.”

He finds your clit with ease, pressing down against it and rolling it under the pad of his thumb. And you just get wetter, he can feel it, see it when he pulls his head back to look at you properly. The sheen of your arousal dampening the insides of your thighs, pussy pulsing and twitching under his touch. Crying for it, your body begging him for more so earnestly.

“T-Toby-“ You whimper softly, eyebrows furrowed in pleasure as you gaze up at him. His messy hair is falling over his eyes, the freckles on his cheeks drowning in the pink flush that had begun coating his skin. His eyes are dark, hungry, yet brimming with awe as they stay locked on your barely clothed cunt. The muscles in his forearm flexing every time his fingers moved against you. The sight of him above you, just proves to take you higher, and you can’t help it when a downright pitiful little whine slips from your lips. “I need you to touch me, please.”

“I am t-touching you, baby.” His voice is low and rough as he rubs tight circles against your clit, sparking up a pleasure that rolled through your body and made your limbs feel gooey. “You n-need more?”

His gaze flicks up to meet yours, irises clouded in desire so potent he may as well have had hearts in his eyes. Then, his hand stills, leaving you yearning for more, and hopeful that you’ll get it when his fingers hook under the waistband of your panties instead. “P-Pretty pussy’s begging f-for it, hm?” He tugs, slowly tugging your underwear down your hips, pausing to let you lift a bit before he’s pulling them the rest of the way off. Fingers grazing the outsides of your thighs, leaving a trail of tingles against your skin. “Can’t-Can’t leave you hanging. E-Especially since I’ve been wanting it just as bad.”

Toby shifts his body, sliding down the bed until he finds himself at eye level with your glistening cunt, hands gripping the backs of your thighs as drool pooled in the corners of his lips. He can feel it when it seeps out of his mouth gash and drips down his jaw, but it’s the least of his worries - despite how desperate he knows it must make him look. That was alright. Desperate was exactly what he was, and you deserved to know that you had him wrapped about your finger. “Spent all day th-thinkin’ about you.”

He leans in, pressing his cheek against your thigh before he’s turning his head to plant a kiss against the sensitive skin. Parting his lips to really taste you, letting his teeth peek out just to make you jolt. “Thinkin’ about h-how beautiful you are. How badly I j-just wanted to forget it all and come home to you as soon as p-possible.”

You can feel his stubble tickle your skin as he slowly works his way down your thigh, closer and closer to your aching core - lapping up the sweat and slick smeared across you. Your head feels hazy, heart thudding in your ears, the heat within you just burning hotter and hotter each time his mouth connected with your skin. “Thought about h-how lucky I am. How much I hope I m-make that clear to you.”

“You do.” You gasp out, bringing a trembling hand down to tangle in his hair once more - curling into the fluffy brown strands and gently tugging him in closer. Impatience getting the better of you, which is rewarded by Toby giving you a sly little smile with eyes glinting under hooded lids.

Was it too much to say that Toby looked best between your thighs? Maybe, but it was simply the truth. Skin flushed and eyes dark, looking at you like you were a feast and he was nothing but a starving dog. Long lashes fanning against his cheeks, lips glistening with drool that had begun accumulating in his mouth.

And the best part? You never had to ask. He just loved being there. Loved putting all of his effort into making you feel good. He’d spend hours there, if you let him - lapping at your heat until his jaw locked up. Ignoring the ache in his own pants in favour of drinking in release after release he managed to pull from you.

And he said he was the lucky one.

“D-Do I?” He asks, before pressing a soft kiss to your already swollen clit. His grin only widens when he feels the grip on his hair tighten. “I’m glad. Sh-Should I make it even more clear?”

“Please.” You couldn’t be bothered to try and act coy right now, your mind clouded and your body reaching a fever pitch. You feel like you’re melting in his hands, slipping through his fingers as he reduces you to a pool of mush. You could barely comprehend it, having gone to sleep alone, then waking up to the whirlwind of affection Toby had swept you up in. You weren’t complaining though, far from it. You were pleading for more.

And who was Toby, to deny his girl?

“I-I’ve got you.” Toby’s voice, thick with desire, rings in your ears as his hands push against your hips - pinning them to the bed to stop them from bucking up impatiently. Keeping you locked firm in his grasp, all his for the taking. “Ju-Just lie back and r-relax, alright? You know I’ll take care of you.”

That, you did know, and he just proves it more when his tongue meets your cunt mere moments later. He licks a long, flat stripe from your hole to your clit - drinking up every drop of your essence like it was the sweetest nectar. To him, it was, so much so that it pulls a moan from his lungs as well as yours. The taste making his brain go fuzzy the moment it met his tastebuds, already getting dizzy just from the feeling of you pulsing under his tongue.

You were divine. Absolutely divine. And he would swear you just got better every time you parted your legs for him. It was no wonder he spent every second away thinking about you, when being with you made him feel as if he was ascending to a higher plane. “Taste so g-good.” He’s slurring against you, eyes fluttering shut as he wholehearted buried his face in your cunt - nose bumping against your clit as his tongue swiped through your folds. His grip on your thighs, though tight, was tender. Thumbs rubbing soft circles against you in an almost soothing motion - though all it was really doing was bringing another source of stimulation. He was gentle, so gentle as he held your legs open. Gentle, as he sucked on your clit before slipping his tongue inside you.

You, were left just a gasping mess on the sheets before him. Legs twitching and hips bucking as he licked into you with languid thrusts, burying his tongue as deep as he could with each swipe. Like he was trying to lick you clean, suck you dry of everything you had to offer. You’d give it to him, easily conceding as melting into him as he drank you in.

He was attentive. Already knowing and keeping track of every little thing that you liked the best. How your walls would tense up around him when he flicked his tongue inside of you, the way you’d cry out when he nuzzled up against your clit while doing it. He knew how to make you feel good, because that was his favourite thing in the world to do after all.

“Ah, Toby-“ That was why. Because you sounded the most beautiful when you were falling apart. Moaning out his name in a tone so sweet, that it stuck to his ears like molasses. He couldn’t get enough of it, and he quite honestly didn’t think that it was possible to. His need for you being an ache that ever persisted, a part of him that would never disappear. And that’s just the way he liked it. Being wrapped around your finger, falling at the feet of the angel he had the honour of calling his lover. “Don’t- Don’t stop-“

He wouldn’t dream of it. Toby could feel your pleasure cresting - the walls of your pussy twitching around his tongue as he licked into you. So wet, it was dripping down his chin. He couldn’t help but moan into you, absentmindedly rutting his hips down against the bed as he doubled his efforts. Barely any friction at all, but the absolute ecstasy he felt just from making you fall apart before him was enough to satiate him.

With fingers curling into the flesh of your thighs, and nails leaving shallow indentations there - you come undone. Gushing right onto Toby’s tongue, for your boyfriend to eagerly lap up. Your body arches off the bed, shoulders bowing as your thighs shake - a chorus of gasped out moans and cries slipping past your lips, red from being bitten raw.

Toby coaxes you through it, low groans rumbling from his throat as his tongue drags against your sensitive folds - flicking at your clit every so often to draw out your pleasure for as long as possible. In all honesty, it’s quite hard for him to relent, even when you start weakly pushing him away because the oversensitivity became too much for you to handle. He just wanted to keep his face buried between your legs, drawing out orgasm after orgasm until your cheeks were slick with tears.

But, he had decided already that he’d be gentle with you, and so he pulls away. Face slick with your release and hair mussed, eyes hazy with a self-satisfied little smile tugging at his lips. “F-Felt good?” He asks softly, smoothing his palms against the backs of your thighs - rubbing the sweat slick skin lovingly.

“Y-Yeah.” You manage to gasp out, your head still reeling from the intensity of your release. Basking in your post orgasm glow with your body near limp beneath him. “That even a question?” Through your blurry vision, you observe Toby, watching the way his expression crinkles when he lets out a low chuckle. How his sweat slick hair sticks up at odd angles when he pushes it off of his forehead. The sheen of your release on his chin, which he wipes away with the back of his forearm. And then, then obvious tent in his jeans that your gaze catches on when it drifts lower.

And well now, that’s just not fair is it?

So, despite how shaky they are, you part your thighs once more as you look up to meet his gaze. A silent offer that you know he wasn’t ignorant to, but you make it clear with words anyway. Just because you knew it would make that blush of his darken even more. “C’mon baby, I can’t be the only one who feels good.”

You let your legs fall open like a flower blossoming in spring, your still twitching pussy on full display for him to feast on. And he does of course, eyes widening minutely at the shameless display below him, his cock jumping to life once more. You really were a goddess. You had to be.

“You’re t-too perfect for your own g-good, you know that?” He asks you as he moves in closer once more, before reaching down to grasp the hem of his shirt and tug it over his head. After shaking his hair out, he does the same to you, stripping off your last piece of clothing and leaving you completely bare. Bare, and beautiful. Flushed all the way down to your tits, chest heaving and skin glistening with a sheen of sweat. “What did I do t-to deserve you, hm?”

You watch with bated breath as his fingers travel down to work on his belt buckle, tugging it free, too impatient to bother tugging it from the loops before he’s popping the button of his jeans.

“I think the same thing about you.” You hum back to him, unmasked desire clouding your eyes as you track the sight of him pulling down his zipper.

“You sh-shouldn’t.” He laughs dryly in response, but his tone is nothing but fond. The zipper comes down, and now you can really see how worked up he is - straining against his black boxer briefs, so hard you think it’s a miracle that he didn’t cream his pants. “I, am not a good p-person by any means.” He barely slips the rest of his clothing off, far too antsy now to be bothered with stripping completely. He needed to be inside of you ages ago, and so he just settles on tugging his underwear down enough to let his cock spring free. “You-“ He nestles himself snug between your thighs, the weight of his length resting heavy against your cunt. “You are just a s-sweet little lamb. Never done anything wrong.” He ruts against you, coating his length in your slickness as he slides between your folds. Making your breath catch every time he nudged your clit with the head.

His eyes flit up to meet yours, finally tearing away from where they had been hard focused on the sight of his cock slipping against your heat. “Except maybe g-getting involved with me.”

“I don’t regret it for a second.” You beam up at him, eyes brimming with nothing short of adoration - because you really did mean it. You knew, that the side Toby didn’t show to you was that of someone ruthless. Someone who butchered people without a second thought, or an ounce of remorse. Someone who, if you were smart, you’d stay far away from.

But you couldn’t. You knew you wouldn’t be able to, from the first day you met him.

And with you, Toby was simply a doting, devoted partner. So could he truly be so bad?

And was it selfish of you to look past it all, even if he was?

Maybe. But a little bit of selfishness is needed, if happiness is what you seek.

“G-God, I love you.” Toby breaths out, voice shaky and strained. You try to respond, but he barely gives you a second to before the head of his cock is pressing into you.

Your jaw falls slack, body going pliant as he sinks in inch after inch, bringing with it that delicious fullness he always made you feel. Stretching you open so wonderfully, your cunt yielding to him like you were simply made to take him in. Even when he sunk in so deep it made your toes curl and your brows pinch together. Even when the pressure of him inside you left you breathless.

“I- I love you.” You choke out, the words coming out strained and muddled with ecstasy. More so moaned out, than actually spoken, but that just makes it sound that much more beautiful to Toby’s ears.

“Th-That’s right.” Toby murmurs back to you hoarsely, as he slowly draws his hips back - his grip on your waist never faltering as his cock drags against your walls, just to press back in again. “Say it a-again, pretty girl.” He rocks into you gently, really letting you feel it every time your cunt stretches open to welcome him - the emptiness before he fills you right back up again. “Love hearing you s-say it.”

“I-“ You gasp when he hits your gspot, still so sensitive from your previous orgasm that it’s enough to make your head swim. Your words choke off into a moan, and it’s hard to recover when the feeling of him pressing into you again leaves you near brainless. “I love you, T-Toby.”

Toby can’t help but smile down at you, a heady mix of lust and adoration swimming through his veins at the sound of your whimpered out declarations of love. You were so beautiful that it made his chest hurt normally, but right now especially - crying out how much you loved him, looking so pretty with tears in your eyes while he stuffed you with his cock.

If any of the other proxies could see you like this, he’d bet they’d very quickly understand why his head was always in the clouds while on missions. But then again, he’d also kill them if they ever did.

You were his. His girl. His life. His reason to keep going. And though he wasn’t quite sure if he really truly deserved you, those facts were infallible. He much rather die, than ever let you go. Would willingly come close to death every single day, if it meant he’d be coming home to you.

“Th-That’s my girl.” He murmurs gently, before dipping down low to lick and nip at your jawline - hips never faltering as they rolled into you over and over again. Belt clinking every time his skin met yours. “B-But I love you more. You make me f-feel like the luckiest man in the world.”

God, you were perfect. Sucking him in so eagerly every time he pulled out. Walls wrapping around his cock like a glove, pulsing to the tune of your heartbeat, tightening up in a way that made his mind go blank each time he nudged against that sweet spot within you. Your pussy had him under a spell. Whether he was simply tasting it, or buried six inches deep into it, it brought forth an ecstasy he had never once found elsewhere.

‘Pussywhipped’, Brian had called him once, and he knew it was true. Wore that title with pride, because how the hell couldn’t he be, when he had a cunt this glorious all to himself? It felt like you were moulded to the shape of him, milking him so good that he knew he was already close.

He couldn’t help it. You just felt too good. Always did. But especially, when he had really been missing you. “Y-You feel so good, baby.” He’s groaning into your ear, breathing out hot huffs of breath against your neck that have goosebumps rising on your skin. “S-So good, fuck. This pussy was m-made for me, wasn’t it?”

“Uh huh-“ You’re gasping back to him mindlessly, head stuffed with cotton as your hands lift to grasp at his broad shoulders. Nails raking against his skin before sinking in deep as a means to ground you, but you know he doesn’t mind. He can’t feel the pain. Just the pressure. The desperation in your grip as you cling to him like a lifeline, curling your whole body around him when your legs come up to lock around his waist. “S’all yours.”

“Damn right it is.” He groans against your skin, voice cracking under the weight of the pleasure consuming him. He’s panting against you, sweat rolling off the strands of his hair and dripping onto your skin. Muscles flexing under your grip from exertion as he snaps his hips into you over and over and over again. Chasing your release, more than his, because he can feel it coming. Can feel how your walls start to convulse around him, sucking him in tighter every time he buried himself to the hilt. And if there was only one thing better than you cumming on his tongue, it was you cumming on his cock. “Y-You gonna give me one m-more?” He mumbles huskily as his lips drag against your jaw, angling his hips to hit your gspot on every thrust, relishing in the way your body jolts and your eyes roll back because of it. “Cum on my dick, sh-show me how much you missed me.”

It was like he had you under a spell, with the way the coil snapped at the sound of his voice. Burying your head in his shoulder as you cried out in ecstasy, clawing at his back as wave after wave of pleasure rippled through your entire body.

And with how beautiful you sounded, and how your pussy was squeezing him like a vice, hellbent on milking him dry - it was no surprise that he was tumbling over the edge right along side you.

Toby comes in a flurry of gasps and expletives, pulling out just in time to jerk his cock once, twice, before he’s spilling onto your stomach and chest. Rope after rope of sticky warmth coating your skin and leaving you breathless. You can feel it as it pools in your bellybutton and drips down your sides, staining the sheets below you - but well, they had to be washed anyway, so did it really matter?

“L-Love you.” Is the first thing you hear Toby murmur out when his brain starts to boot back up, face buried in your neck as his cock softens against your thigh. “F-Fucking hell, I love you so much it’s crazy.”

You let out a soft little giggle, chest feeling warm as you pull him in as close as possible without smearing the mess on your skin onto him as well, before pressing a kiss to his jawline. Nuzzling against the stubble there, you murmur;

“Love me enough to clean me up?”

Toby snorts out a laughs and lifts his head just so that you can see it when he rolls his eyes at you, and just like that you’re breaking into a little fit of laughter.

“Wh-Who do you take me for?” He scoffs. “C-Course I will.” Then, he’s sitting up, tucking himself back into his boxers before sitting back on his calves - eyes raking across your naked body as he takes in the damage he caused. “Hm, g-guess I did make a mess, huh?” He doesn’t look the least bit sorry about it. “You look good l-like this, though.”

Now it was your turn to roll your eyes.

“You would think that.” You laugh, lifting your leg to nudge him softly with your foot. “Go get a towel.”

“Alright, alright.” Toby raises his hands in surrender, before slipping off the bed and retreating towards the bathroom. Not before looking back to take in the sight of you once more though. Okay, twice more. Soon though, he returns with a wet cloth, and making true on his promise - wipes you spotless.

Leaving your stomach and chest clean, dipping between your thighs to gently clean up the mess there too. Not stopping until he was sure that you were before he came and sullied you.

Then, he’s finally kicking off his jeans, and crawling into bed with you once more. Tugging you in close to his chest, just like he had when he first got home.

“You still need to shower.” You murmur to him sleepily, though make no effort to stop him as he nuzzles his face into the crook of your neck. Easily conceding when he reached down to tug the blankets over both of you.

“Mm, t-too tired now.” He murmurs against your skin, and you can feel the way his lips curl up into a sly smile. “I’ll d-do it in the morning.”

You, also too tired to argue about it, simply let out a soft sigh before snuggling into him further - finding comfort in the feeling of his bare chest against your back.

“And you’ll wash the sheets?”

“A-And I’ll wash the sh-sheets.”

—————————————————————————☆

hi everyone!! my first post since I died and disappeared for over a week!

very happy to be back I missed u guys so much <3

thank you for readinggggg!

[4linos]

empty words

hwang hyunjin x fem!reader

synopsis: you thought you’d tell him about the pregnancy with excitement, but his cold rejection shatters your hopes. Now, with everything crumbling, you must figure out how to move forward.

warnings: asshole!!! hyunjin, pregnancy/pregnant mentions, huge argument & just overall really angsty.

wc: 1338

[empty words pt. 2]

You sat on the edge of the bed, the test still warm in your hands, its small white stick almost mocking you as it proved everything you'd been afraid to admit. Positive. You knew it deep down, didn't you? The nausea, exhaustion, and little, subtle changes in your body. But seeing it in black and white made you feel as if the world had stopped. Your heart raced in your chest, a deafening thrum that overshadowed everything else. You'd imagined this moment numerous times before, but none of them matched the crushing sense of terror and uncertainty that gripped you right now.

What were you going to do? You didn't even know where to start. You'd hoped to start a family with him someday. Hyunjin. You imagined him holding the test, his face beaming with excitement, making plans and talking about everything you two could do to prepare. But now that you saw the reality of the situation, you're afraid.

How would he react? Would he be happy? Or would he be disappointed? Will he panic and push you away? Your mind swirled with questions, each one more pressing than the previous. You thought that, whatever happened, the two of you would be able to handle it together. You've always been able to handle things right? But now, with the test in your hand, everything seemed uncertain, as though a single word from him could shatter everything.

You shook your head, trying to focus. You couldn’t let this news get to you before you even told him. He’d be home soon, and you needed to figure out how to tell him.

You hid the test in the drawer and closed it, trying to push it to the back of your mind. Dinner. You should focus on dinner. You still had some time, so maybe you could make something nice, something that would ease the tension. You wanted everything to be perfect when he walked through the door, so you could tell him with some semblance of normality, of calmness. He would be okay, wouldn’t he?

But when the door clicked open, it was anything but normal. The usual excitement you felt when you heard his footsteps in the hallway was gone. It was like the air had changed, a heaviness settling between you before he even entered the room. He didn’t greet you with the usual teasing smile, didn’t ask about your day or tell you how much he missed you. Instead, he walked in, his face drawn, tight with something you couldn’t place. The warmth you were used to was completely absent.

"Hey, love, how was your day?" you asked, a little too cheerfully, hoping he would smile and make everything feel okay again.

He didn’t. Instead, he just grunted, his gaze flicking toward you briefly before he turned away, walking past you without saying a word.

"Do you want to have dinner now?" you asked, trying to fill the silence, trying to make things feel normal, even though everything in you screamed that nothing was normal. "I was thinking about making something, maybe pasta or—"

He scoffed, cutting you off. "You didn’t make anything?" His voice was sharp, colder than you’d ever heard it.

The words hit you like a blow in the face. You got so preoccupied with thinking about whether or not to take the test, swirling fear and anticipation, that you had entirely forgotten about dinner. You felt an overwhelming sense of shame come over you, yet it was nothing compared to how his words made you feel. You instantly looked down at the floor, avoiding his eyes, wishing you could just break down the tension in the air.

"I forgot," you confessed slowly, your voice small.

His expression darkened. Without saying anything, he turned toward the kitchen, his footsteps heavy and irritating. "I'll make something for myself," he murmured under his breath, turning away from you to begin gather food from the refrigerator. You stood there for a moment, watching him walk with displeasure with each stride.

Something within you stirred. Something was not right. You hadn't seen him this off in a long time. "Hyunjin, are you okay?" You tried again, your voice softer this time, and stepped closer to him, your heart racing in your chest. "You’re been acting distant... Is everything alright?

He didn’t turn around, but you saw his jaw tighten. His hands moved faster, the sounds of him grabbing pots and pans harsh against the stillness. Then, he scoffed again, this time louder, more frustrated. "I’m tired of everything," he muttered, not looking at you, his voice low but heavy with frustration.

"What?" You didn’t know if you had heard him correctly. Your breath caught in your throat as your chest tightened, a wave of dread flooding over you. You took a step closer. "What did you say?"

Hyunjin turned to face you then, his eyes cold, a deep frown etched on his face. "I said I’m tired of you. Tired of this. Tired of everything. The relationship. Everything about it. It’s been building up, and I just… I don’t know anymore." His voice was sharp, cutting through you like a knife. The words hit you harder than you had imagined.

Your legs went weak, but you held yourself upright, willing your body to stay steady. "What do you mean?" you asked, your voice barely above a whisper, like you were afraid that if you spoke too loudly, the fragile piece of reality you were holding onto would shatter.

"Hyunjin, you’re not making sense. This isn’t… you."

His gaze turned even colder, and he looked at you like you were a stranger. "I’m suffocated," he spat. "I can’t do this anymore. I can’t breathe when I’m with you. Everything feels like it’s just… weighing me down. I’m done."

The words struck you like a stab to the chest. Your breath caught, and the world around you started spinning. You wanted to scream, ask why, and beg him to stay. You couldn't lose him like way. But the hurt in his eyes and the finality in his tone told you it was already over. You swallowed hard, tears welling up in your eyes, but you held them back. Not yet.

"Hyunjin…" you muttered, struggling to maintain your voice. "What are you saying?" "You want us to break up?" He nodded, without a trace of emotion on his face. "Yes," he responded, almost coldly. "I don't want this anymore. You can keep everything, the apartment, all the stuff; I don't care. I just need out. I need to be alone."

A heavy silence hung between you, the weight of his words settling like a thick fog around you. You opened your mouth to say something, anything, to make this make sense, but the words wouldn’t come.

You can’t leave. You can’t do this to me.

But instead, you just choked on your breath, the sting of tears becoming unbearable.

"You want to leave," you whispered quietly, the finality of your words making your throat ache. "Then go." You did not want to show him how much he was hurting you just yet. You didn't want him to see the brokenness in your eyes. Hyunjin didn't hesitate. He grabbed his jacket and keys and proceeded toward the door without saying anything.

The slam of the door as he left rang around the room like a bullet punctured the air. You slumped to the floor, your body trembling, tears finally spilling freely as you held your stomach, your hand reflexively pressing against the growing life inside you.

The sobs wracked through you, each one pulling at your chest as you sat alone. You had pictured a future where the two of you were making a life together, but it seemed so far away. You'd never felt so small and alone.

"Why?" you cried into the emptiness.

And then, as your hand rested over your belly, you whispered, through your tears, "I didn’t want this. I didn’t want to do this alone."

//

[kithtaehyung]

holiday (3tan special) | myg

title: holiday  pairing: 3tan!yoongi x reader(f)  series: masterlist | three tangerines | fireworks | house party | basketball | stay | sidewalk talk | friends | dalo | like that | anytime | sundress season | yoongi’s interlude | forfeit | flutter | video call | busted | broken (pt. 1) | broken (pt. 2) | lollipop rating/genre: pg (18+) ; fluff ; brother’s best friend au, implied age gap au, holiday au summary: from what you can gather, holiday gift exchanges are supposed to be pretty straightforward. but this one quickly escalates. because no one can follow directions. note: this is all thanks to the person that suggested a 3tan crew secret santa! they don’t do actual secret santa, but they do host a gift exchange. so enjoy this speedily but still tenderly written holiday special! i wanted to get it posted asap so that we could all have it during the holiday season. hope it helps lifting spirits in any way<3  warnings: yoongi looks like sin, but reader does too🤭, kissing, no one follows directions, but especially jimin, hella kissing, no fr jimin is chaos incarnate, sibling holiday woes, tense situations, tender moments, gift exchanges, dialogue heavy i’m so sorry, also not too edited i'm sorry again sdfkljdskl. reader is adorable y'all i wanna cry, 3tan crew being wholesome af drop date: december 27th, 2024, 8:37pm est word count: 8.1k bc i love y’all???

-

-

“Wait… I’m in this, too?” 

Your brother winces while checking his phone, probably also seeing the texts that Jimin sent to a freshly created group chat. “Tae and Chim roped us in this time. But it’s cool if you don’t wanna.” 

As you both don work attire in your foyer, you shake your head, one hand firm on your bag strap, “I don’t even know how they work.”

“I think we random draw names. Then just give a gift to whoever we get.” 

Seeing the names and numbers in here, you’re already running through a lot of possibilities. Maybe too many possibilities. But you don’t wanna make things more complicated or awkward, so you quickly concede, “I mean.. I’m down if you are.”

“I guess it’s cool.”

Head lowered, you notice that your brother’s shoes are the ones you gave him for his birthday a couple years ago. Because those days are the only ones you both celebrate every passing run of three hundred and sixty-five. “At least we’re doing something this year.” 

He chuckles to his feet. “Two years in a row.” 

Your sad laugh tumbles and rolls next to his. “Wild.” 

“Hey.” When he pauses, it’s to wait for you to look up. “If you ever wanna talk about it, we can.” 

There are a lot of times in which you dismiss your brother. Because it’s just what siblings do. 

This time is not one of them. 

“Same,” you offer, the weight of the world dragging your smile down. 

He gives you a hug, and you feel the luxury press of his suit as you lean in with scrunched brows. 

Two years in a row. 

Maybe things do suck less with time. 

When you both head out the door to your cars, you wonder if your brother knows how much you appreciate him and his friends for including you in things. Even if you don’t show it as much as you need to. 

Guess this time of year is a good place to start. 

Work drags in the wake of oncoming holiday. 

But you’re learning to appreciate the decorations around the office, including the little cards that coworkers have given you at your desk—despite your many protests that they didn’t have to. 

When you look up, you start to notice other things. Like the way people smile just a little more. Or the way peppermint and cider waft around the building, smelling of sweet instead of spice. 

You wonder if Jungkook has decorated the studio, too. Or if he recruited everyone else to help with decorations, which means that Yoongi and the guys had to fuss with lights and whatever else people spend money on.  

Laughing to your many stacks of papers and documents, you start daydreaming of what it would be like to decorate the house.

Would you and your brother do it someday? You do admit that it’s kinda nice to look around the neighborhood. And when you went into the mountains last year, you concede that the surrounding town decor was pretty inviting. 

Maybe your house would be a little brighter on the inside too if you both just…

You get a notification on your phone. When the screen brightens, you see that it’s for the app that shuffles you all for the gift exchange. 

You have no fucking clue what you’re doing.

But here goes.

Opening and hoping you get someone that’s easy to please, you stare at your device and blink a few very hard times. 

And after every time, you still get a name that has your heart quickening faster than reindeer working overtime. It’s reindeer, right? You think that’s cor—

“You okay?” 

Snapping your head up, you notice that one of your coworkers stopped mid-stride to check on you. Staring at his candy cane tie, you try not to be distracted as you slightly cringe, 

“What do I get a guy for the holidays?”

“Friend or lover?” 

Well, that was not what you expected to hear! 

When your jaw unhinges, you’re quick to snap it back into place. “Umm.” 

“Oh, this is juicy,” he perks up, quickly settling into a nearby chair and resting a strong chin in his hand. “Tell me more, I got time.” 

Laughing, you shake your head while pretending to type on your computer. “Nothing to tell.” 

“That means you got a whole lot.” His eyes are way too shiny right now! “But alright, I’m gonna assume both. In which case, I suggest something nice.” 

“Something nice?” 

“You know, like. Nice nice.” 

“It’s for a gift exchange, though,” you slump, hands stopping on the keys. Looking at his whole holiday ensemble, you divulge, “The money limit’s definitely not enough for nice nice.” 

“Then fuck the limit?” 

Your answer is more of a sound than a word. 

But he does get you to consider, even if just for a little bit. “Maybe…” 

“Fuck the limit,” he advises again. “He’s gonna dig that. Especially since everyone will see it.”

Your face falls from the snowy sky. “Everyone?” 

“Uhh, yeah? You said gift exchange, right? Everyone sees what everyone gets.” 

“Oh. Right,” you pretend to agree to your computer. Because no, you actually didn’t know that. “Guess it’s been awhile.” 

“Well, that’s what makes it fun! Good luck.”  

While you would normally agree, you have a whole hoard of conflicting feelings. Because while seeing Yoongi’s name on your screen is enough to get you giddy as hell, you know there’s a couple people that may not share the same sentiments. Especially if you gift him something nice nice. 

In front of everybody.

However… 

As your striped and jingling coworker strides away with a hum, you drum your fingers on your minimally decorated desk. 

Maybe there is a way you can finess this. 

After a few weeks, the day has come for not just one exchange, but two—your friends also decided to have your own. Because it’s the easiest format, you convinced them with logic, seeing their shock at you being the one to suggest the exchange in the first place. 

When they asked if you were sure, you assured them that it was okay. And the way they all brightened told you that you made a sound decision. Even if they still seemed hesitant, you know it’s because… 

You’ve never done this. 

So as you observe everyone in your bare living room, you start to see how their presence alone illuminates the space, with gifts in shine and glitter painting the area in holiday colors. 

This is nice. 

“So… Uhh.” You clear your throat, watching everyone look at you at the head of your coffee table. “How do we do this?” 

They all laugh before Taehyung explains, “So one of us goes first and says who we got before giving the gift—you can sit, you know.” 

In the midst of more teasing, you settle onto the floor while exclaiming, “I’m nervous, okay! This is really new to me.” 

“You have a gift to give, right?” 

“Yeah?” 

“Then you’re already doing great,” Reia assures, and you’re even more excited to give yours away. Because you drew her name. 

But before you can say that, Taehyung continues, “So after someone gets their gift, they announce who they picked, and so on.” 

“Pretty straightforward,” you observe. “I wanna go first!” 

Dom cackles, “You just wanna get it out of the way.” 

“And?” you question, grinning when you shoot up and grab your very amateurishly wrapped bag. “Okay, okay, I got…”

“This is adorable,” Yuri cuts in, and everyone’s agreement makes you suddenly shy. 

“No! Don’t make fun.” 

“We aren’t!” Taehyung reaches out to rub your leg. “Promise. Who’d you get?” 

“I got… Reia!” You exclaim, raising your bag a bit as she yells with everyone. The sudden raise of noise gets you a little shocked, but hyped nonetheless. And maybe a bit nervous that your gift won’t live up to the excitement. “Sorry about the wrapping job.” 

“What are you talking about, this is so good,” Reia soothes, smiling wide as she delicately takes out the folded paper. “Wow, the wrapping is nice?” 

Dom chimes in as she leans in, “Yeah, this is too good. Did you watch videos?” 

“Uh huh.” 

Everyone laughs again as you keep your nose held high. Because sucky or not, you were not gonna half-ass your first ever gift exchange. With seasoned people, at that. No way. 

When Reia opens the gift you carefully picked while perusing through a local music store, you watch with the anticipation of a small child, eyes wide and waiting. Hoping that the best outcome is the real outcome. 

And when she quietly yells behind her hand, everyone cheers while asking what she got. When she turns the package around, they cheer even more, because it’s a guitar pick set in her favorite colors. And one that you knew was so, very much her. 

She stands up immediately and opens her arms for a hug, and you blink before getting lovingly crushed. 

“Thank you,” she whispers in your ear. “This is more than great.” 

“Of course, babe,” you murmur back, feeling her jean jacket under your palms and a beating in your chest. “Thank you, too.” 

The rest of the exchange goes off without a hitch, with you cheering with everyone and understanding the cues more and more. Everyone’s gifts are wonderful, and Yuri’s the last to go out of the five of you. 

And she got your name. 

You figured giving the gift would be the hardest part. 

But somehow, this part is a lot harder. 

Braving it anyway—because there’s ironically no time like the present—you carefully unwrap the thin package and stare at what’s inside. 

It’s a photocard. But the picture is of the five of you, one that Taehyung took with his long ass arms while the four of you huddled behind him with drinks in hand. Around its edges are stickers, hearts and stars and cute little animals. 

And it’s the most precious thing you’ve ever seen. 

You don’t even realize you’re crying until Yuri rushes over to ask if you don’t like it. 

“This is the best thing ever,” you choke out, and she smiles before laughing and tearing up, too. “I love us.” 

“We’re the best, duh.” 

“Got that right,” Dom adds to the air while Reia and Taehyung start cleaning up the wrapping scraps. “You like your first gift exchange?”

“I should’ve joined y’all sooner.” 

“Joined us?” Taehyung looks up from the ground. “What do you mean?” 

“Oh. I figured you guys do this every year.” 

Tae looks at Yuri, who then looks at you again before very seriously admitting, “We’ve never done this, either. Not with each other.” 

“Really?” 

“Yeah.” She taps the back of your now most precious, most coveted photocard ever. “We didn’t even think about it since you wouldn’t be there.” 

Smiling at your prized possession, you vow, 

“I’ll be here now.” 

Regarding all of them, you start to decorate your place in your mind. Seeing where all the lights go. Where all the little trinkets hang, or whatever. You don’t quite know how this goes just yet, but you do know there’s trees involved. So that’s gonna be figured out in a year’s time. 

“I’m not missing this again.” 

With bellies full of laughter and a little bit of cider, you and your friends head over to Jimin’s cul-de-sac. 

Dom took the wheel this time, so you get to stare out the passenger side window, eyes reflecting golds and colors as you take in the surrounding lights. 

Were they always this pretty? You don’t remember being so taken by electricity and staggering electric bills, especially the houses that go all out and cover every nook of their yard in lights. 

But it’s a spectacle on every corner and street, and Jimin’s little half circle of houses keeps the holiday illumination alive. 

“Uhh, I think we can park down there,” you point, noticing there’s some space a little bit beyond the street. It’s alarmingly next to where Yoongi had to park once, and you cherish that memory with stars in your eyes. 

“Everyone have their gifts?” 

“Tae, if anyone lost theirs on the way here, we have other issues.” 

It’s a quick walk to Jimin’s, and the music around the house gets louder as you approach his entrance. There are people already set up in his open garage playing what you assume are card games, and everyone greets your group as you pop in to say hi. 

“Hey!” Namjoon calls. “Y’all are late! Everyone’s inside.” 

“We had our own party first,” you call out, struggling with your gift bags and food tray. “Can someone—”

Before you finish your ask, you smell nice cologne and feel a big presence at your side. 

When you look to see who’s assisting, you slow in your motions before uttering a small,

“Thank you.” 

Jungkook slightly smiles as he grabs your last bag. “Your perfume’s nice,” he compliments behind tousled bangs. Which makes you blink because that comment is more than hard to come by from him. 

So you can only grin. “Just got it,” you explain as you follow your friends inside the house. “It’s a dupe, can you believe it?” 

“Damn! It’s a good one.” 

“I know,” you agree, very proud of your find. Taking the gift bags from his hands, you tilt your head. “Can you bring the tray to the kitchen?” 

“On it.” 

When you make your way to your friends at the front area, they all eye you with concern. But you wave it off and shrug off your coat to hang on the loan coat hanger—earning teasing and whistles.   

“Shut up,” you groan, laughing with everyone before straightening the reason for the noises. It’s a dress you’ve been eyeing specifically for holiday parties. Because as soon as you started to shop for your gift exchanges, that quickly spiraled into shopping for outfits to wear to them. Did your coworker spook you into looking good because it was a public event? Maybe. Absolutely. 

So you shopped around before finding a dress that even you knew you looked good in. And the past couple weeks were the longest stretches ever because of your anticipation to wear it again. 

As you and your newest fit walk into the kitchen, you start to greet everyone, giving them hugs and smiling bright at their compliments. Because you feel good. You feel nice. Maybe you’re just drinking the holiday cheer and letting it consume you but you don’t care because it’s fun this time. This isn’t like any other year, and it’s wonderful. 

But then. 

Even the most wonderful moments have to come to a halt. 

And yours crash when you see Yoongi. 

Leaned back on one of the kitchen counters, his body appears relaxed in another damn black button-up, telltale silver chain hanging from a neck you wanna devour in front of the whole house. 

He was already annoying last year. But this time, his hair’s longer, and made up with just the right amount of disarray and a little bit even tucked behind his ear.

Fuck, this is so much worse! 

If he wasn’t so attractive and magnetizing, you’d have way less than ninety-nine problems. It would be a lot closer to zero. 

But you make your way over to him anyway, because of course you would. Of course he knew you would, too. 

“Hi,” you greet him, hands tingling with the desire to cup his beautiful chin and yank him in for a kiss. 

But he greets you back while giving you a hug, not without giving you a very obvious once-over. 

“Beautiful,” he whispers in your ear before pulling away, which can only make you babble out, 

“What?” 

He grins wide. “You look nice.” 

Oh. Oh, he really did say that. Why are you surprised? Why are you always surprised? But you have to stay poised so you stick with a neutral, 

“So do you.” 

“Thanks,” he says with a sly curve, still leaning back on the counter with a drink in hand. “Say something else.” 

“Goodbye forever,” is what you go with, back heating with his staccato laughs following your speedy retreat. 

No, no, no. He cannot notice how excited you are to give him his gift. Your bubbling excitement needs to be projected elsewhere. Because you know you picked perfect. It’s something you know he’d appreciate. 

But he cannot have his ego inflated anymore or else the house would float to the sky. 

But fucking hell, he looks damn good and he knows it. 

After an hour or so of socializing and keeping to your little friend circle, Jimin gets everyone together in the big living room to do the exchange. 

“Okay! One, two… Okay, we’re all here, so. Who’s gonna start?” 

When someone calls his name, the man grins and shakes his head. “Nah, I’m host.” 

“So shouldn’t you be the one to start?” 

“My house, my rules!” Jimin argues with zest, pointing to the guy that dared to challenge him, “So you go first.” 

And that man just so happens to secretly be yours. 

Shouts erupt around the living room, and you can mostly hear Hoseok and Seokjin since they’re closest,

“Go, Yoong!” 

“Ah, Yoongi’s first for a change.” 

Secretly and not so secretly, you’re hoping and wishing that he pulled your name. But the odds of that would be pretty slim if you pulled him, even though it was an even chance across the board. 

But as he gets up from the arm of Jimin’s couch holding a small gift bag, you determine that maybe it’s best if he didn’t pull your name. Because you already had trouble opening Yuri’s gift. How the hell would you control yourself opening his? 

“K, uhh. I got…” 

Wait, he’s looking towards you from across the room.

Shit. Is it happening?

You? 

“Taehyung.” 

A pang of disappointment and relief shoots through your veins, even when you shout with everyone while watching Tae smile from his place right next to you.

Yoongi walks right up to your seats, which are really some extra fold-out chairs by Jimin’s decorated tree. And he smells so good. Why do you have to be close to him again? 

But this moment is about Taehyung, so you watch as he opens the gift. When there’s a small box inside the bag, he opens that to reveal a nice, slim… wallet? 

Wait, is that leather? 

Your mouth drops as everyone’s up and raising questions already, and you can clearly hear Jungkook and your brother protest the highest,  

“Wait, huh?” 

“We set a limit for a reason!” 

Yoongi’s hands stay in his pockets when he refutes, “It was on sale.” 

“Nah, he’s lying!” 

Taehyung doesn’t know what to say, so when he looks at you, it takes all your strength to encourage him neutrally, 

“It’s so you! Deserved.” 

Yoongi looks at you before asking your friend, “Is it okay?” 

“It’s perfect,” Taehyung says, full of gratefulness. “I’m just shocked.” 

Jimin and Shiv chuckle from one of the couches, 

“Oh? He’s never shocked.” 

“This is new.” 

Yoongi smiles as Tae gets up to hug him, and you’re immediately okay not being the one receiving anything right now. 

Because you don’t need anything from him. 

All you want is his happiness. 

Once the initial gift is given, everyone goes down the line. And you’re feeling a little lighter after knowing who Yoongi got. Also, you feel less and less awkward about your gift, since the chaos of Yoongi’s was only the beginning.

Because when Taehyung gifts your brother a chain, everyone’s up and yelling again while your sibling is shocked to hell. 

On one end of the living room, Namjoon shakes his grinning head while Jungkook throws his back, 

“Alright, there needs to be a penalty for the most expensive gift.” 

“We obviously didn’t give a shit about the limit.” 

Everyone’s laughter fills the house, even drowning out the faint holiday music floating from the surround speakers. 

Immediately clipping on his necklace, your brother shouts, “Am I the only one that stuck to what we agreed on?” 

“Sucks for who got yours then.” 

Everyone starts laughing or reprimanding Yoongi for saying that—you with a cackle included. 

But then your brother busts out a fucking watch for Shiv and everyone goes bananas. 

At this point, Taehyung’s fully laughing behind his fingers on his forehead, and Jimin collapses on a gawking Yoongi when Shiv quite literally jumps up. 

“What the hell? Dude, I can’t take this.” 

“Yes, you can! And you will.” 

Fingers are pointing in every direction while people are calling each other liars, and your brother laughs on like a gremlin.

But it’s all so adorable that your heart is squeezing. Shiv’s damn near tearing up. “I’ve been eyeing this one for forever.” 

“I know! You wouldn’t stop running your damn mouth about that thing.” Your older sibling claps him on the shoulder. “You can shut up now,” he says with a grin, and Shiv gives him a big hug. 

“Thanks, man.” 

“Don’t sweat it.” 

Shiv’s turn. And everyone is waiting for what he decided to gift. 

Turns out he keeps the shenanigans going by gifting Jungkook a luxury tie set.

The blond’s jaw drops as he stares hard at the package. Looking up quick, he has to ask for sure, “A set, dude?” 

“It was on sale!” 

“Again?”

“Are we all gonna say the same lie?” 

Everyone can’t hide their amusement, with creased eyes and fake annoyance in every seat. Jungkook can’t believe his luck, since he’s been telling himself to get dress clothes forever but hasn’t gotten around to it.

“You gotta dress like a man now, kid,” Shiv tells him with a bright smile. “There’s a lot coming now that you’re making it.”

A light bulb softly glows when you realize that Yoongi might need to do the same. Trying not to look obvious, you peek in his direction. 

As he stares at the floor, you already know he’s mulling over the same thoughts. 

But it’s Jungkook’s turn now, and you still haven’t gotten a gift yet. 

So you’re waiting with all the air in your lungs. 

As the blond teases his pick, the studio boys are quick to handle him as Yoongi only huffs.

“I got… I got… I got, I got, I got, I got—”

“Kook, just say it.”

“Always like this.”

“Jimin!”

Your heart beats again as the host pops up from his couch, everyone cheering as Kook meets him in the center. Around you, speculation from your friends mixed with a little laughter spikes,

“He probably stuck to the limit.”

“Definitely.”

“Jimin’s gonna be the only one left with—”

Cackles and screams rip as Jimin kicks his head back in laughter, because in his hands is a sleek white box that everyone recognizes. 

This man got Jimin designer shades.

Your cheeks hurt as you react with everyone, giddy and bubbly with how absolutely ridiculous this whole night has gone. Everyone accusing each other of cheating, while all the while every single gift has been over the top.

You really don’t feel bad about revealing your gift anymore. Quite honestly, you almost feel more bad about it not being enough.

No. It’s enough.

Yours is the best and you stick to that.  

Jimin takes the sunglasses out of the box and protective pouch, slipping them on and modeling immediately.  

Oh’s and ah’s echo before his friends inflate his ego,

“Damn, you sure you aren’t a model?” 

“You’re one step away.” 

“He really is.” 

He looks great and he knows it. And he carefully puts them back in their packaging before giving Jungkook a hug. They exchange conversation, and you can feel the latter’s smile as he laughs before sitting down. 

Suddenly, you have the strongest intuition that you’re next. On Jimin’s turn. He’s getting out a very nice bag from behind a couch and your brain is firing off. 

“Okay! The best gift is going to…”

You were right. He calls your name.

Smiling, you shakily stand as Jimin approaches, a twinkling look in those features glowing in incandescent lights. 

Eyes on you. Many eyes. 

A little overwhelmed, you thank him before sitting down. Because it’s much easier to do this while on a solid, structured surface. 

“Hope you like it.”

“I’m sure I will.”

Best gift? What could Jimin possibly mean by—

Your scream shoots out as you clamp the bag shut because no fucking way you saw what you just saw in there. 

Jimin’s laughing his ass off but it’s not funny. 

“Jimin, what the fuck!” Now you know how Shiv felt and he is absolutely valid for his reaction. “I can’t accept this.” 

People are concerned around you, and you quickly think they may have the wrong idea.

“What did he get?” 

“What’s in there?”

Quelling some thoughts, you explain, “It’s a box.” 

“Okay?” 

You just gotta say it. They’re all gonna know as soon as you take it out anyway. So you breathe out,

“…It’s Dior.” 

It’s the loudest it’s been all night, even though your friends are completely speechless. All the guys are up in arms and Jia’s scream for penalty can be heard through the chaos,

“What!” 

“Where’s my Dior?” 

“What the fuck?” 

“Jimin…” 

“Okay, that is way over limit! That’s cheating!” 

“Penalty!” 

Jimin’s sneaky smile as he turns around doesn’t help, “You know I get everything for less.” 

“So?”

“Still, what the hell, man!”

You know Jimin works there. You do. But this is still making your limbs jelly and you can’t even speak. 

There’s no way Dior is passed around at every gift exchange. 

“You deserve it. For dealing with him.” He looks at your brother, but the look in his eyes is too sparkly to be completely truthful. Does he mean Yoongi? Or is he being serious? 

Of course, your sibling throws out a droning, “Wow.” 

After lots of shaky unboxing, you reveal a stunning bracelet, your friends bending down around you to gawk at how brilliant it is. Dancing in your fingers, this piece shimmers and gleams, and every single person is quiet. 

Guilt. You feel guilt. 

And you can’t even look at the reason why.

“Whatever you’re feeling, don’t. It’s okay.” 

You’re tearing up because it’s way too nice. Which proves worse because you also feel bad for crying for the sole fact that Yoongi’s watching. You don’t want him to get the wrong idea. 

You get up to hug him. “I… This is really nice, Jimin. Thank you.” 

“Stop by the store sometime,” he offers with a smile. “Maybe I can slip more in your purse.” 

“Easy,” your brother eyes him. 

“So are we all getting fancy gifts or what?” 

“Nope! Ran out of my discount, sorry.” 

“Wow.” 

When you finally glance around, everyone’s either a mix of shock and awe, visibly confused, or just jealous and wondering what the hell just happened. 

Meanwhile. 

Yoongi straight up looks like he’s holding his tongue. 

And you suddenly feel really bad. 

Hopefully giving him his gift will make up for what just happened. Even though you’re going after the hardest hitter of the damn night, this one’s special. 

But who are you kidding? People are definitely gonna talk in private about Jimin’s little gift. 

So now you have to try and mend this while acting like Yoongi’s just your brother’s friend. Cool. Awesome. 

“So...”

Just try your goddamned best. 

“Yoongi is mine.”

…Wait.

Your secret looks your way immediately while everyone snaps their heads to him.

What the fuck did you say?

Wait wait wait wait what did you fucking say?

Flapping your arms, you reach for words while everyone starts teasing, “Oh, god. I mean—I have Yoongi—I mean, wow. Hold on.”

Fucking fuck fuck, he’s grinning.

Thank the lord above for someone cheekily asking,

“First time at a gift exchange?”

You look away from the laughs while trying to compose your grin of embarrassment. Get it the fuck together, this is peak time to get it right.

“God. Okay.” You look down at your bag. All of its carefully folded and primped paper, the delicate folding inside. “For the gift exchange,” you clarify with a forced firm tone, “I got Yoongi.” 

You feel Dom try her damned best to hide her laugh. And you know for damn sure Jimin and Taehyung are thoroughly amused right now. 

All the oh’s sounding off in the living room are already enough to set your ears smoking. Your brother’s voice can be heard, but you know that’s for a specific reason. 

Everything had to be carefully calculated, after all. 

You walk up to him, and you cannot—absolutely cannot—look too long at the way he’s looking up at you. Him sitting in any capacity is enough to drive you up a wall, but now? When he looks so freshly fitted and prepping to tease you about all this later? You can barely think straight. 

“I don’t think I can beat Jimin’s gift,” you sigh to his curious eyes. “But it’s a little too late to change.”

His smile turns so soft. He shouldn’t be the one comforting you right now when you probably broke a little of his heart. “It’s all good.”

Keep going. 

Cleaning your clogged throat, you brave the crowd and breathe before starting again, “Anyway. This is kinda from both of us, but I picked it because I have better taste.”

“Hey, what the hell?” 

Ignoring your brother’s protest, you watch as Yoongi softly opens the gift before pulling out a basketball jersey. 

Of his favorite player. 

“Holy shit.” 

Shouts start erupting behind your back as you laugh, your sneaky gift joining the rest of them. 

“Hello? That’s way too much!” 

“That’s over the limit for sure.” 

You wave your hands frantically among their teasing arguments, and your brother chimes in on your side. “I didn’t know what to get!” 

“So you got a real jersey?” 

“Relax, y’all. It’s from both of us.” 

“Wait, which one’s Lillard again?” 

“Damian,” Yoongi softly says in awe. “How’d you know?” 

You can only blink, smiling faltering by the slightest amount.

Fuck, he’s gonna be cheeky right now? Knowing you know and exactly how you know? Cuddled up with him in his bed as he shows you highlight reels and tells you the guy’s whole story and that he happens to be a rapper, too? 

Looking back towards your brother, you explain, “Well... He gave me a list. And I just picked off vibes.” 

Yoongi’s eyes sparkle so much when he grins. “Good choice,” he compliments with creased eyes. “Thanks.”

“You’re welcome!” You say back with a little too high of a pitch. “But tell him he still owes you a gift. This doesn’t count for him.” 

“Uhh, it sure as fuck does!” 

Yoongi breaks eye contact to shout behind you, “Didn’t you already tell me you got me something?” 

“Yeah, it was that!” 

“What a lie,” Yoongi says through a smile.

“Yeah, I did,” your brother surrenders. “The shoes are in my bag. Okay, next!” 

Hilariously, two pairs of people end up getting each other. Yuri’s older sister Jia got Seokjin, who also drew her name—to the slight angst of your brother, you imagine. 

And Hoseok ends up getting Namjoon. Which turns out being twice as funny because they both got each other the same pair of earphones. You can’t breathe with how hard you cackle with everyone, and your heart skips when you catch a glimpse of Yoongi’s eyes across the room.

By the end of the exchange, everyone’s bellies and cheeks sting from laughter, and every eye in sight has twinkles embedded inside.

Throughout the night, everyone starts branching off into different groups. You and your friends talk in the kitchen, and both in and out of the house, there’s groups of games and conversations. 

The holiday decorations everywhere shine bright. Enveloped in the music, you keep looking at the lights, feeling happy but a little bittersweet. 

You really wanna set the record straight with Yoongi. You had no damn clue that Jimin was gonna give something like that, much less in front of everyone. 

The fact that you haven’t been in the same room for a bit makes it worse. What could he be thinking right now? You can’t tell because he’s nowhere in sight. 

Screw it. You’re gonna at least text him. There’s no way you can survive the night if you’re gonna plague your own head without checking in with him. 

Fishing out your phone, you sidestep away for a second to type something quick. 

You [10:38pm]: i know it’s not dior.. but hope you like your gift :’)) 

Yoongi [10:38pm]: You know I do. It’s perfect, doll. 

Well. He texted back super quick.

Maybe he’s really okay? Maybe he and Jimin already talked it through? 

Then again.. Yoongi didn’t look happy at all during the big reveal. To the point where he was actively showing emotions you rarely get to see.

But if he says he likes his gift, that’s a good sign. 

You [10:42pm]: i can’t believe jimin did that

Yoongi [10:42pm]: That was bold. 

You [10:42pm]: seriously!!! 

Hmm. So he didn’t know. That’s even more surprising than him knowing, now that you think about it. 

You’re called over to get another round of food, and you turn down the initial invite but stay around as they get more to eat. 

When you see a tray that smells way too good, you do break and get a piece anyways. 

“Yeah, those are amazing,” Yuri chirps. “Shiv made those.”

“Really?” Dom grabs a couple pieces. “Lemme try these then.”

“You’re gonna want more.” 

As you find a place outside to eat, you stand next to the heater while conversing with Taehyung. It’s adorable how you can tell how excited he is about his gift, turning it in his hand before pocketing the leather again. 

“It’s so nice,” you compliment. 

“He knows how to pick, I guess,” Tae smiles, looking at you and making you shy. Because hello? There’s no way he’s gonna be bringing that up tonight. 

When you silently mouth for him to shut up, he grins like a madman. Glancing down at your hands, he suddenly asks, “Are you gonna put that down?”

“No,” you say with a tiny pang of guilt. “Afraid not.”

“Mm.” 

Your phone buzzes again, and you’re thankful for the interruption.

Yoongi [11:09pm]: Guess I have to do better😔

Instantly, you take that gratefulness back.

You [11:09pm]: NO!! you don’t have to worry about me at all

Yoongi [11:10pm]: I can’t lose to you

You [11:10pm]: trust me, i just… 

You think about sending the other text or not. But you do anyway. 

Taehyung sees the look in your faraway face, but doesn’t comment as you peer down again. 

You [11:11pm]: i just wanna see you happy

That’s all you want. If he’s happy, you’re happy. So it sucks to have part of the night come as quite the shock. 

Interestingly enough, though.. Someone else in the house should also be pretty upset about your gift, and you haven’t seen Jimin cornered by him yet. 

Unless your brother is just deciding to be courteous and beat his ass after everyone leaves. 

Yoongi [11:13pm]: Then come over here

You’re not gonna argue with that. 

So when your friends finish their plates, you suggest you all head into the garage. It’s already rowdy before you open the door, so the sounds get booming loud when you all enter. 

Looks like everyone is blowing their money on other things tonight, too. The gifts were the nice part of the party; now everyone is fiending to take everyone’s cash.

“Damn, Yoongi’s clearing me out.”

“Told you not to go all in.”

“He did.”

As the cold weather rolls in, you watch as the games go on, with heaters humming with energy and your brother’s friends radiating competition. 

No wonder Yoongi wanted you in here.

He’s on a damn roll.

As everyone groans after another win, Namjoon and your brother are in tatters, 

“Yoong, what the fuck!”

“You hiding cards in those sleeves?”

“I told you!” Yoongi boasts, “Don’t get too cocky.”

“Says him.”

“Cocky, my ass.” 

When you laugh, you earn a tiny glimpse of his eyes. But as his vision falls to your hands, you’re quick to look away, out into the night to look at all the lights instead.

Shit.

After some time passes, you find yourself alone on a balcony. Yet again. Cold wind blows through your coat, chilling you but making you feel alive. Too alive in this moment. Too aware.

The holidays aren’t so bad this time around. But you do need to set this one thing straight before things go a little sideways with Yoongi. 

If he’s upset, you don’t want him to be. Even if he doesn’t say it, you want him to know you’re considering his feelings. There’s some things you just can’t control.

So you wait for Jimin, telling him earlier to meet you up here for the best chance at privacy.

When you hear the door opening, you see him come through, hair lifting in the breeze and his lips in a slight curve. 

Get right to it. “Jimin, I—”

“Isn’t it so nice tonight?” 

Stopping, you settle into a smile, watching him walk up to stand next to you before you both look into the night. The neighborhood glows beneath your feet, and everyone in the backyard mingles while puffs of air leave their lips. 

“It really is,” you say with a smile, clutching the gift bag in cold fingers. Because you haven’t let go of it ever since it was given to you—it’s way too expensive. You’ve been guarding it all night. 

Which is why you need to hand it back to the one who gave it to you. “We haven’t done something like this before, so.. It’s a nice change of pace.” 

Jimin turns before realizing something. “Oh. I meant the weather.” 

Embarrassed, you let out a laugh while his eyes crease. “Ah. That, too.” 

“Got deep real fast.” 

“Jimin!” 

Both of you puff out laughter as you look down, just in time to see someone gazing right up at you. Someone that makes your heart squeeze on sight. 

Oh, shit. Is he gonna get the wrong idea again? 

You need to do this quick. Yoongi can’t be let down more than once tonight. 

Sighing, you start to hold up the bag again. “Thank you—”

“He’s lucky you came around when you did.” 

“Huh?” 

Jimin leans on the railing before eyeing you with a smile. “You don’t even know, do you.” 

“I don’t…” When you look below, Yoongi’s not looking anymore. And you panic. “Jimin, thank you. But I seriously can’t take this.” 

Why does he look so calm? Why does he keep acting like this isn’t a big deal? “You can.” 

“No, really. I—” 

“I may have gone too far this time.” 

Your eyes still as you breathe out a confused, “...What?” 

Jimin’s face is dusted with peach in the cold, and you get a good view of his jawline as he peers down below with a regretful curve. “I kinda tricked him,” he admits. “Into picking your gift for the exchange.” 

The shock you feel prevents you from even blinking. How the hell can this get even more overwhelming? “What do you mean?” 

“I wasn’t lying when I said I got some good discounts.” Jimin turns around to lean against the railing. “So I thought it would be fun to rope him into getting you something.” 

When he laughs to the chilly night sky, you don’t join him—the shock is preventing you from doing anything. 

“Didn’t think he’d pick a whole bracelet, though. Made for one hell of a gift exchange pick.” He looks at you at a tilt. “You like it, right?” 

Even if Yoongi was the one to pick out the jewelry, Jimin still had to purchase the damn thing. And even with his discount, it’s still expensive as hell. It has to be. You haven’t let go of the bag once because you don’t want to lose it. “But you still had to pay,” you blurt out. “I’ll find a way to pay you back if you aren’t gonna take it.”

“I didn’t pay for it, either.” 

Your heart stops. 

Full on halts. 

When he turns his head, he looks toward the sky in thought. “Well, I did secretly pay the exchange limit. But..” He straightens before staring back at your absolute silence, dropping the biggest surprise of the whole night,

“Yoongi paid the difference.”

The sudden sob that leaves your throat startles him immediately, and he rushes forward to put hands on your shoulders. “Hey, hey, you okay?”

“Yeah, I just—”

The sound of a door slides open, and you turn to see your favorite, favorite, favorite person walking through. You must look like a wreck but you don’t care, don’t care, don’t care. 

“I’ll leave you both to it then,” Jimin says to your watery eyes before squeezing, heading out to give you both the quiet space you need. 

But Yoongi clutches his arm as he walks by, and you hold your breath as he stares him in the eye, voice burning with a steady glow,

“Don’t pull that shit again.” 

“I know,” Jimin agrees without pause. “I owe you one.” 

“No one comes up here then.” Yoongi releases him slow. “Until I come back down.” 

The host of the night shares a quick hand clutch before assuring, “You got it.” 

Bag clutched tight in your hands, you watch in wonder as Yoongi approaches you with a quiet determination. His presence alone makes your heart beat warm and soft, but you cannot stop the tears from flowing down your cheeks. 

All you can ask as he gets close is a wondrous, “Why..?”

“He’s a very persuasive salesman.” When you wipe your eyes, he helps with a little look of tenderness. Though there’s still some frustration evident in his features. “But I didn’t know it would be for tonight.”

“Oh, shit,” you sigh. “Why did he do that?” 

“I’m not sure.” Yoongi holds your chin, rubbing your frosty cheek with a handworking thumb. “Taehyung didn’t know he’d do it, either.” 

“Tae knew, too?” 

“Yeah. He thought I had it, not Chim.” He sighs to the side, hair lifting slightly in the breeze. “I almost stood up when you screamed.” 

Your heart shrugs off some chill. “Really?” 

Yoongi nods before looking up with scrunched brows. “It took all of me to keep my ass down. Honestly, I’m still pissed the fuck off.” 

You believe that. One hundred percent, you believe that. Because you’ve never seen him talk to Jimin like that before tonight. 

Reaching to cradle one of his cheeks, you feel how cold he is before whispering to soothe, “Tell me how you wanted it to go.” 

When Yoongi looks at you, your lips curve into a small smile. Peppered with a bit of your tears and willingness to make him feel better. 

He softly grips your hand on his face before turning to kiss your fingers. Voice low, he reveals, “I was gonna take you straight to dinner. After you got off work one day.” Another set of kisses makes your fingers both hot and cold. “Then I would’ve faked needing something from the studio. And you would’ve gotten it there.” 

“Oh…” You blink as your vision blurs. “That’s…” 

“Among other things.” 

At his suggestive look, you playfully pat his jacket. But your heart starts leaking from your eyes.  

Because you just want it all to be out already. Just everything. Everything, everything, everything, you’re so tired of keeping it under wraps. 

“What’s wrong, doll.”

“Nothing,” you sob. “I’m just… I didn’t know, and… This is a lot.” 

You’re overflowing with emotions. From all the experiences you’ve had tonight to this very moment, everything has been wonderful and magical and there’s nothing quite like this feeling. But you’re also so embarrassed because he definitely brought out much bigger guns than you did. 

Sniffling into his jacket, you whisper, “Thank you… You got me something timeless. This is so much cooler than my gift.” 

“No! Yours is great, are you kidding me?” 

“It’s a jersey… That’s much less cool.” 

“Mm... You also called me yours.” When you freeze completely, Yoongi's shoulders bob with his pride. “Gotta say, that was the highlight of the night."

“Oh, shut up!" When you groan into his clothes, you feel him laughing through his chest. And it's one of your favorite feelings in the world.

Shoulders slumped, you heavily yearn,

“I want it all out now. Everything.” You squeeze him closer. Closer, closer, closer. “I want everyone to know it was from you.” 

Yoongi doesn’t say anything, though you do feel his heart beat a little faster. When he finally answers, you close your eyes. “I know I said this last time, but.. Next year. For sure.” 

“Can we decorate, too?” 

Yoongi looks into your starry eyes. “You wanna?” When your nod is quick, he laughs. “Guess I don’t have a real choice then, huh?” 

“Nu uh.” You squeal as he hauls you into a full kiss, squeezing you in his arms and more tears out of your eyes. “Wait!” 

When he tilts his head, you grin at his adorable quirk. “Let’s do it anyway.” 

“Huh?”

Holding up the bag, you cheekily suggest, “Everything you said. Let’s do it.” Biting your lip and feeling the chill on your ears, you finish, “There’s a new place I wanna try with you anyways.” 

Yoongi just stares, smile unsure but huffing amusement from his nose. “You sure?” 

“Duh! And I’ll act even more surprised, just for you.” 

Your giggling is purely born from excitement. Because you can’t wait to take him somewhere you know he’ll enjoy, too. And you get to see the studio? It’s gonna be a fantastic—

You’re brought into a tight hug before your thoughts finish. The bag between you crumples a tad, but you’re more focused on the way your head is moved for a soul-tying kiss. 

Warmth and gold and sparkles burst from your chest as you’re completely taken by Yoongi’s lips, and you start to feel your house inside change. It’s festive. It’s decorated. It’s made just for you and him. 

You've never been one for this season. But getting to spend it with Yoongi two years in a row? It's becoming one of your favorite times of the year.

“I just…” he murmurs to your features before gripping you close. “Thanks, babe.” 

“Thank you,” you whisper into his handsome features. “Once you give it to me for real, I’m gonna wear it everywhere.” 

“Please do. Get my money’s worth.” 

When you both laugh, your affection leaves in puffs of white. And you give him a more tender kiss than the first. 

You feel so at home it hurts. But it hurts because your heart is so full you can’t fit it all. All the love for everyone that fills that hole in your life that you and your brother have had for years. 

You’re gonna tell him one day. And it’s gonna rip you apart. 

But you hope everything will be okay. This time next year, all of you will be okay. More than okay. 

When you lean in close, you whisper something you’ve never really said to anyone. But you’re gonna try to start, even if you aren’t quite familiar with it yet. It’s a good year to start, start, start. 

“Happy holidays, Yoongi.”

His lips spread slow before giving one more kiss to your chilly nose. And every anxious feeling floats away in the frosty breeze.

“Happy holidays, doll.”

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fin. :)

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so... how did it go! | join the server! | join the taglist!

a/n: happy holidays, merry christmas, happy new year to everyone that celebrates! just wanted to get this one out for the ones needing a little bit of cheer around this time. we learn quite a bit about some of the crew's backstories and where they work now, huh. is this a pocket universe, too? who really knows! but it all flew out of my fingers as soon as we got the suggestion, so thank you again to that anon message! a/n 2: thank you to everyone that's stuck with me and 3tan this year. it's been a rough one, but i also wanted to post this one to let you all know i'm still here. 3tan will forever stay with me, and i have not ever forgotten it. not one day goes by where i don't think about it, or y'all, or them. trust me. also, stay on the lookout for some physical copy interest checks! we are getting closer and closer to 3tan copies being A Real Thing! ++ feedback box: ⇥ of course, any reblogs/comments/messages are appreciated! ⇥ for the ones that are too shy to reblog with a review, comment on this, or send a message, i went ahead and made another anonymous form where you can send in what you think! ⇥ no emails collected, no need to put in a username. it’s literally just a comment dropbox :D feedback can be as short/sweet or as long as you’d like! ⇥ here! ++ more links: ⇥ masterlist  ⇥ three tangerines masterlist