#so i feel like i have to respect it a little

[buckiverse]

☆ warnings: mdni, this is literally just a description of how caleb, zayne, and sylus jerk off and if they watch porn

☆ a/n: I have officially decided all the boys are virgins, so i feel it's only right to write about them yearning for you but also being overcome with guilt <3

☆ Caleb

Caleb has spent so long secretly admiring you, adoring you. All he wants is for you to like him the same—but Caleb is patient. Caleb understands long-suffering and is willing to wait for you. He won’t force you to come to him. You have to want it—this, as he does. With this being said, for a long time, he will not watch porn. He’ll feel bad like he’s betraying you—like you’ll know he lusted after another person. 

When you both go to college, he’d spend more time away from you for the first time, and he wouldn’t even dare to think about letting another woman touch him. He’d even have you act as a liaison, discouraging others from approaching him romantically. That didn’t mean that he hadn’t heard stories of what his friends were doing in bed, the fantasies they were living out—now he was curious. 

He’s not a boy anymore, and this is different—it’s educational, he’d tell himself. When the video loaded, a woman, blindfolded, a vibrator pressed between her folds. Teasing her clit gently. The blush spread on his face furiously as he felt himself getting hard. He watched as she writhed against the toy, but not daring to close her legs as her partner commanded. He could feel the heat spreading across his neck—taking mental notes. He would love to do this to you.

Though he had no experience, that didn’t mean he wouldn’t make love to you so good you’d never want to leave. He’d read books and look at fanart, especially of things you like. If you tell him about the latest manhwa you’re reading, best believe he's going to study that shit like no other. You read romance? Well, now he does, too. 

He might even have a whole notepad. Seeing what works, what he likes, what he thinks you might like. He knows you well enough to guess, though he’d definitely ask you directly. 

But when Caleb touches himself, he’d do it with a stolen pair of panties. Sometimes, the washer would eat your socks, underwear, and towels, which was nothing new.

Now, speaking of guilt, he knows this is horrible for him, but he doesn’t know what else to do with himself. But when Caleb saw the pair, unwashed and forgotten in the washer, he couldn’t help but pick them up and stuff them in his pocket. Now he closes his eyes, stroking himself slowly, the underwear in his mouth to muffle the noises from his lips, hoping you wouldn’t hear him. He decided this would do. Using little pieces of you to get himself off. 

He would think of the times before college when he could hear your muffled moans and breaths coming from your room late at night and secretly press his head against your shared wall, trying to listen to you better. He couldn’t wait to use his newfound knowledge on you. He’s just eagerly waiting. 

☆ Zayne

Zayne wants to be romantically involved with you. He desires—yearns for it. But he knows that's not the current state of your relationship and will respect the pace at which you want to take things. His busy life keeps him occupied. He almost relies on it to monopolize his attention since he can’t give it all to you. But it doesn’t stop the guilt he feels—watching porn. 

It takes a lot for him actually to touch himself. He won’t do it often. Yet. It would be an actual internal conflict for him. When he finally decided he was going to watch porn, he would make it quick. The cold metal of his phone in his hand, the dark screen reflecting at him, would almost snap Zayne out of it—but he’s currently wrapped up in his lust. Even so, he still feels like he’s being unfaithful to you—the idea of you more accurately. 

He’ll decide only to watch one while allowing the video to load. He’s just desperate to get off at the moment. It’s almost painful, the way his cock is straining against his slacks. Lately, waiting or sleeping it off hasn’t been working. He’d been so pent up that Zayne stayed hard the whole drive home, and now he gave in. 

It's a short video, but fuck it was hot. The woman squirmed underneath her partner. And Zayne’s pupils blew wide when he saw him suck on her clit, and he could hear the *pop* of his lips detaching from her folds. The groan that fell from her lips when he pushed his tongue inside her—how his arms kept her legs pinned down, though her hips bucked upwards. 

He wanted to do that to you badly. So bad that he closed his eyes, his head thrown back, his lips parted as he leaned back in the chair, jerking himself fast. He had to have you—he couldn’t take it anymore. And he came so fucking hard, and when he finally opened his eyes, he saw the come all over his slacks.

But the guilt was quickly spreading through his chest. It almost feels like he has desires towards the people in the video, but honestly, all he wants is you. He’s never even touched another woman—but still, he felt mortified at the idea that you’d look at him and know what he was doing late at night, imagining it was you there.  

He would never touch another woman. You are all he has wanted since he was a child. Even back then, he only wanted to be connected to you, keeping other girls at a distance even into his adulthood. But maybe now that was catching up to him.

☆ Sylus

Sylus is patient—but only with you. He’d been frustrated for a while. Between your apparent hatred of him and the chaos in the N109 zone, it was slowly eating away at him. Still, no matter how adamant you were about holding your grudge, he’d never be angry with you. Disappointed? Maybe. But never angry.

He loved the game you were playing but wanted—needed—more of you. You were bonded to him, whether you realized it or not. Fated. And the longer you pretended to hate him, the more amused he became. Sylus knew your walls were crumbling, piece by piece.

Like the patient man he is, he waited. Even as you kept those walls standing, even as you unknowingly softened him in ways he never expected—he never sought out distractions. He wouldn’t watch porn. He didn’t need to. First of all, he was busy. Running a city, being a crime boss. You know, important stuff.

But that didn’t mean he didn’t come home late at night, exhausted, missing you. That he didn’t lie in bed on his stomach, the ache of longing settling deep. He might even pull a pillow beneath him, letting it fill the empty space—imagining it was you.

He’d press his weight into it, wishing it were your body beneath him instead. His breath would hitch, a flush burning its way across his cheeks as he rutted against it, slow at first, then more desperate. His fingers would twist into the sheets, knuckles white, your name slipping past his lips like a prayer.

He just felt so desperate. The need for you—your touch, your claim—clawed at his chest, leaving him raw. And when he finally came, hips stuttering in one last, shaky grind, a tear would slip from the corner of his eye.

Sylus doesn’t cry often—if at all. But the thought of you never choosing him? That breaks him.

[no-blastbeat-no-applause]

A little while ago I wrote a little something about that. I just finished translating it into english. Here are my thoughts:

Wimp

Thoughts on the patriarchy and why this crap sucks for men too

Queen Energy

I mindlessly let Instagram videos wash over my mind. A sketch wakes me from my pleasant torpor:

A woman dressed in a negligee talks to her husband. She orders him to have sex with her immediately. He says he is tired, he has just come home from work. He doesn't feel like it either. She is not interested. She becomes more direct and aggressive in her statements and demands. All of this culminates in her forcibly shoving a cookie into his mouth, repeating her order and expectantly marching off towards the bedroom.

The comment column is rolling with laughter, congratulates the woman and agrees with her demands. The comments reads something like:

"Her story, her rules, her empire." "Queen energy! This is the vibe we all need!" "Taking what's hers like it was always meant to be"

She should take what she needs; her husband should be a real guy and get it for his wife if and when she wants it.

So the point is: he's a wimp if he doesn't put himself and his needs first. He's not a real man because he doesn't jump when his wife is in the mood.

Let's imagine the gender roles reversed. A man comes home and tells his wife to wait for him naked in the bedroom because he wants to have sex. Regardless of her wishes and desires. Most people would find this behavior unacceptable. And rightly so.

Here though, sexual harassment is portrayed as a joke. Neither the producers nor the recipients seem to be fazed by this.

Such scenes suggest that men always have to be ready and willing. This stereotypical expectation completely ignores the fact that men are also people with boundaries who want to say "yes" or "no". However, in our society - as the comments column impressively shows - they are often denied this choice. Men are not even given the opportunity to prioritize their own wishes because their "yes" is taken for granted. If they do try to set boundaries, they are met with a lack of understanding, rejection, ridicule or even violence. This creates a burden that is subtle but always present.

The video and its comments make fun of a man whose freedom of choice over his own body has been taken away, making him yet another victim of patriarchy and toxic masculinity.

First naked and then alone in the corridor

I was 12 when my mother drove me and my ten-year-old sister to our pediatrician. Everything started as business as usual. The doctor asked us general questions, she took our blood pressure and did what doctors do.

Then something happened that I still remember vividly today. As a burgeoning teenager, I had to get naked from the wais down and lie down on a couch to be examined. My mother and sister both stayed in the room. I was embarrassed. I found it downright agonizing.

The doctor plucked at my penis for several minutes. I didn't know where to look. My face turned bright red and my hands got wet. I was suddenly terribly aware of how my kneecaps felt under my skin.

Then it was finally over.

But now it became particularly irritating: it was my sister's turn. She was facing something similar - with one important difference. I was asked to leave.

Don't get me wrong, I had no interest in participating in my sister's gynecological exam. I just wished that the same consideration had been given to me, a little boy.

My feelings were not ignored, no. No one here had even bothered to take an interest in whether I had any. I was treated with the same respect as the couch in the treatment room. The question of my dignity was about as important as that of the desk.

But that was nothing new for a 12-year-old. After all, I learned to swallow my feelings before I even started elementary school.

"Are you a man or a mouse"?

Of course I'm a man, I'm already four! I suppress every feeling that my environment deems too much or inappropriate.

I've learned that „Indians don't cry.“* Neither do boys. I'm not supposed to make such a fuss and pull myself together.

It eats into your brain. It stays. For almost 40 years and it's still there.

How my tongue got bitten

My aunt was celebrating her sixtieth birthday. The whole thing ended in her favorite pub. We danced, sang, drank and enjoyed ourselves. I chatted with old acquaintances on the edge of the dance floor.

Suddenly, a woman snuck up on me. She started to dance at me aggressively. I found it quite flattering at first. The stranger danced very closely with me, focusing only on me. She made me feel wanted.

But after a while I became uncomfortable. She took it for granted that I would return her advances. She waited for me in front of the toilet. She gave me no opportunity to move without her. She put her arms around me and kissed me on the dance floor.

I didn't want to be seen like this by my family. It was impossible to talk to my friends, my aunt was at the other end of the pub. I told the stranger that I wanted to talk to my family, but she wouldn't let go of me. I spoke to friends, but she pushed her way in.

I could have said "No!" at any time, walked away and enjoyed my evening, sure. But I have internalized the lessons of my youth: my feelings are not important and I have to make my body available, regardless of my own wishes.

I only plucked up the courage to tear myself away when the stranger bit my tongue painfully, because: I didn't kiss her the way she wanted me to.

But even then, at the end of the night, my "No, I don't want that anymore" was met with a complete lack of understanding. She was offended that I was not responding to her wishes. She had never cared about my consensus or my needs.

I was now in a similar role to the man in the sketch: my feelings were put on the back burner in order to offer a woman what she wanted at that moment.

Neither the lady in the sketch nor the stranger at the pub inquired about the wishes of the men in question. None of them asked for consensus. None of them took what they were explicitly told seriously, because they, like all of us, have internalized these toxic patterns of thought and behaviour.

As a farewell, I got a contemptuous "wimp" shouted after me.

And why all this?

I am well aware that the people who suffer most from patriarchy are, of course, those who do not appear traditionally male to society. Women, intersex and trans people, all non-cis-hetero men, should by no means be ignored here. My perspective, however, is that of a cis-het man.

We men are taught that our feelings are not important. We have to be tough and endure instead of being vulnerable and talking openly about our needs. Our bodies are common property. We learn to accept assault and laugh it off.

• The woman in the negligee wants sex? Then go ahead! No matter what the man wants.

• The boy is ashamed to be looked at naked by three women? He shouldn't behave like that!

• A stranger decides you're her plaything this night? Fuck your wishes and your family!

If we don't conform to the norms, we are wimps. We are considered unmanly. We're not real guys.

We need to recognize the harmful influence of sexism on men.

While patriarchy generally privileges men, it also subjects us to restrictive gender roles that harm us.

Even those who are considered the most powerful in the patriarchal hierarchy suffer from it.

The supposed masters turn themselves into the oppressed.

Toxic masculinity harms us and everyone around us.

Sometimes I do wonder if men actually get sexually assaulted and abused at a similar rate that women do but a lot of them just don’t know that’s what’s happening to them

[cybrasigilism]

Hi, love your work! Could you write a virginity loss for the reader with thanos in the bathrooms of the games! Can y/n also be shy since it's their first time and have thanos be understanding and talk her through it +handjob ? Please and thank you!!

can’t lie i went a little insane when i saw this one 🤭🤭

Consideration (Thanos/Choi Su-bong [Player 230] X F! Reader HEADCANONS/DRABBLE)

warning: smut, crazy ik | not proofread | lowercase intended | virginity loss | soft dom! thanos (im not sure if this counts as OOC help-) | handjob | praise | public sex (it is the bathrooms after all) | this is my interpretation of this character, please be respectful even if my opinions on the character differ from your own

character: thanos/choi su-bong (player 230)

A/N: HAPPY VALENTINES DAYYYYY!! again with the point format, i feel much more at ease getting my ideas out this way, so please bear with me. my apologies if it’s hard to read because of this

MDNI! 18+ content beneath the cut, reader’s discretion is advised

➸ thanos, who couldn’t stop flirting with you throughout the games purely for the flustered reaction you gave almost on command.

➸ thanos, who upon finding out you were a virgin, found a way to get you alone in the bathrooms of the squid games, sneaking past the guards who surely didn’t care that he was in the wrong bathroom to begin with

➸ thanos, who had you pressed up against the cool, tiled wall of the bathroom stall as his lips crashed against yours. he wasted almost no time in sliding his cold hands up your shirt, sending a shockwave of goosebumps and pleasure up your skin

➸ thanos, who spent so much time kissing and sucking on your neck, you would have been shocked if you walked out of this unscathed by hickeys. each time his tongue passed over your sensitive skin, you saw stars

➸ thanos, who had you kneel between his legs as he pulled his dick out, guiding your hand in his up and down the length of it.

➸ thanos, who encouraged you through the entirety of the handjob. who told you “fuck, your hands are so soft”, “ngh, feels so good when you touch me like that baby..”, “you’re doing great, keep going just like that, yeah” between breathy moans

➸ thanos, who’s hands never ceased to roam your body when you decided to straddle him for the first time. he reassured you when the pressure of sinking down onto him became almost too much at points, wiping the tears from your face. of course, he let you sit there for as much as you needed to adjust.

“shit, y’re taking me so well, señorita.”

“hey, hey— you’re doing amazing so far, don’t cry!”

“fuck i can’t wait to make you feel good…”

➸ thanos, who eased you into the whole process of riding him. he was used to a faster paced, intense, more hot and heavy kind of session, but this time was different. he could see the anxiety in your eyes, he definitely knew how big of a deal this was for you, and he wanted to make it as special as possible— for these circumstances anyhow.

“that’s it, you’re practically a natural already. that’s my girl, fuck.”

➸ thanos, who moved your hips himself when you had gotten shy on him. you were insecure of how good of a job you were doing, but he wasn’t going to stand for that. you already know he was going to make sure you knew how good you were doing— or rather, how good you felt.

“holy hell, you’re so tight.. fuck i dunno how long i’ll last señorita”

“so good… so good and all f’ me”

“don’t s—top, god i don’t ever want you to stop”

“what’s wrong? you’re fucking me so good, keep going!”

➸ thanos, whose moans drove you wild when you eventually got the boost of confidence you needed to start riding him yourself. the sounds he was making made you tighten even more than you thought possible, which in turn made him cry out even more.

“shit, if you keep going like this ��m gonna cum”

“fuck yes, fuck me like that.. you got it, oh god, you got it”

“need ya’ s’bad… i needed this so b—ad, fuck!”

➸ thanos, who wrapped his arms around you after you came. he pulled you into him, chests heaving in tandem as you both came down off this metaphorical high. he caressed the back of your head, the praises he sang for you continued flowing.

“that was fucking, wow. y’ did so good, señorita.”

“see? i knew you could do it, such a good girl for me.”

─────────────

HAPPY VALENTINE’S DAY GUYS!!

to the anon that requested this, i truly hope this is something like what you had in mind. and to everyone as a whole, i hope you enjoyed! i’ve been fighting off a mean writer’s block so i apologize if this isn’t my best work, but i’m just glad to put something out!

as usual, any advice/constructive criticism on how to improve my writing is appreciated and requested! have a fantastic day lovelies 💋

tags: @gongyoosgf @strangelife122 @kvstjwonnie @pink-apples001 @fiicalapsiholoaga

[myunghology]

━ 𝐚𝐦𝐨𝐞𝐛𝐚,, all twst boys!

╭₊˚ ๑︰❝ twst dorms with their ever after high counter parts! ❞

pairings all dorms, but seperate! x fem reader, reader is not yuu (mc). can be read as either platonic or romantic

cw none.. as far as i know

a/n — YAYYY happy valentinesssss <3 not exactly counter parts, but characters who i think would fit into their dorms!

HEARTSLABYUL — ( madeline hatter, daughter of the mad hatter! reader )

riddle finds you somewhat charming, in your own way, but that doesn't mean he doesn't get ticked off by you sometimes. that being said, he definitely loves having tea parties with you, it's so much more fun!

definitely a little bit chaotic, oh, but what can one expect from the daughter of the mad hatter? thinks it's a little bit silly that you have a teacup as a hat, but it definitely works for someone like you.

i think he'd get along with your pet dorm mouse, finds it quite cute from how it delightfully serves the both of you tea whilst you pat it's head with your index finger as a token of appreciation <3

trey would also love having you around for tea. for him-- someone like you in heartslabyul is like a refreshing breath of air. a little bit out of hand, but he still adores having you around.

baking with you is the best! trey just smiles sheepishly when you bring out ingredients out from your silly little hat, ingredients you didn't even know you needed-- but stuffed it in just in case.

a little bit ridiculed from how you can say such smart things, but then saying “but mmm, i dunno!” right after, when his mind is practically in shambles from what you just said.

cater!!!!! you'd get along with him so much compared to the other boys, just because he thinks you're so silly and so adorable! you definitely pop up in his magicam posts most of the time <3

maybe he will admit a bit he spends time with you and takes his daily clicks for social media, but he does genuinely enjoy spending time with you! you could yap on for hours on end and he'd just be sitting there happily listening to you.

i fear you'd pick up his speech habits as well.. just out of spite and out of pure fun, and he loovess it. thinks you're the cutest and most favorite thing in the world when you imitate him like that!

ace is definitely something. he'd enjoy getting reactions out of you-- but at the same time, your reactions are so unpredictable that sometimes he'd rather not.. he definitely found you weird the first time you met, but he's slowly warming up!

feels so proud of himself once you start clapping and giggling when he shows you his card tricks, you're the first one he'd show his tricks to right before he decides to play 'em onto deuce <3

makes his heart flutter just a bit (his words, not mine). when he sees you cheer for him the loudest whenever he has his basketball matches, he'll definitely give his 100% in the match now!

deuce looks up to you.. in a way. he just loves how you're so optimistic about everything and he adores you! both romantically and generally.

lots of “how do you do that?” from him whenever you pull out random stuff out of your hat, and you just respond with a giggle while bringing out stuff he's lost for literal ages. stuff he thought ace stole, by the way.

deuce just loves the way you're so different from everyone he's met, the way you happily jump up and down when you find out you passed with flying colors on a test, the way you you get along so well with everyone, basically everything about you.

SAVANACLAW — ( cerise hood, daughter of the big bad wolf! reader )

leona.. to be honest, i don't think your first meeting went that well. but to be fair, he does respect you for being so tough, as you should be. maybe the fault was more on your side, but you were just being cautious.

it's a little bit awkward with him the first time, but i think you both would develop a mutual respect for each other over the time being. i personally think you two would try to out-sass each other from time to time, but that's just me.

you still find him a little bit too cocky and lazy for your liking, but you'll get used to it in some time. but it was nice seeing him defend you from pretty sexist students, and then just brushing it off like it's nothing.

ruggie, it's like a game of cat and mouse with him.. get the joke? sorry.. no pun intended. he'd want to, or at least attempt to charm or out-wit you in some way, immediately realizing you're someone who has a no-nonsense attitude.

you two respect each other to a good enough amount though, once you get closer. yes, another one who's just as competitive as his housewarden when it comes to challenges. you're a lot more alike than one might think.

sarcastic x "i'll kill you", don't let him get under your skin, he's just there to berate you in a loving way, i swear! he's just trying to get you to open up, is all <3

jack is also, another no-nonsense person, just like you! yes, you we're cautious at first, but you warmed up to him faster than the others. he's respectful and well-mannered, what's not to like about the guy?

not that much of a flashy friendship, but you two understand each other just fine. even if it's just a nod, he'll know immediately what you meant by that little gesture. probably bonded by shared determination.

your number 1 defender besides leona himself, he's quick-witted enough to notice even when someone's belittling or even underestimating you in the slightest ways, he'll jump right in to defend you, just like what he does with anyone else.

OCTAVINELLE — ( meeshell mermaid, daughter of the little mermaid! reader. )

azul, it's better to be cautious of him at first. he's a smooth talker and he's smart, and you're more of a dreamer, so that doesn't work out that well. so, naturally, he sees you as a business opportunity. you could see right through him.

to be fair.. you were, in fact a little bit swayed with his smooth talking the first time you met, but then shook your head and snapped back into reality once you realize with a dead-panned look plastered on your face.

but i guess, in some ways, you two both work. especially when azul's being vulnerable, you'd push all the tension between the both of you aside and be right there with him. thus— he swears to hold off all of his schemes. for you, at least.

jade's is a little bit of a slow-burn, i fear you'd be a bit off-put by his calm nature at first, getting a gut feeling that somethings wrong. you would've been able to admit that anyway. at least not to his face.

he just loves teasing you as well, finding all your reactions adorable and from the way you hide yourself when you're embarrassed, but he finds your emotional awareness refreshing for a feeling. i mean.. who won't? just look at his dormmates.

i think he just means well.. overtime, he teaches you to be more aware of the people around you. honorable mention to azul.. who definitely didn't try to just get you into a pyramid scheme upon first meeting you, so you're thankful to jade.

floyd, you better run. you're an easy target. small, cute, gets flustered easily, what else could he want in a new little plaything? i mean that affectionately. whilst the other tries their best to stop him, he's just.. "imma do what i want to her and no one can stop me".

although you're likely on edge whenever the eel is around, you do, sometimes, unfortunately, like his company. it's quite a nice contrast to your calm and collected one, being the literal opposite of your character. you really do appreciate how much fun he brings into your life, and he appreciates you practically for being in his life.

you're naïve and easy to tease, but he soon learns not to push you away too much, since, well, he doesn't want to admit it, but he's starting to like your company and slowly but surely is getting attached to you as a whole.

SCARABIA — ( apple white, daughter of snow white! reader. )

kalim, okay, hear me out, daughter of apple white, just please try to understand my vision here. you were a little bit startled when you met him, but he was cute.. you're used to being more of a well-mannered and dignified person, so it was definitely new, but in a good way!

he'd find you admirable, of course. like many others here, he just loves how you're so polite but can set boundaries at the same exact time. you're just.. the definition of perfection to kalim in his eyes. but he does want you to just let go and have some fun sometimes.

you help jamil with helping kalim stay on the ground sometimes when things get out of hand, and they're both grateful for that. he does, still think you should loosen up a little and have some fun with him out of love <3 you just think he's a little sweetheart, in all honesty.

jamil, on the other hand, i think there was a little bit of tension when you two first met. you admire how he's quite reserved yet still respectful to those around him, even though his face literally says otherwise. but in the end, you just learn to laugh it off with your dear kalim.

even though you both may or may not get into small debates sometimes, i'd say you get along well, especially in terms of respect. even tho he does think it's quite cute about how you daydream about little things, he'd pull you right back into the ground out of love.

you two share duties in the dorm, even though he insists that it's fine and he doesn't need help, but you insist even more and saying that two people are better than one when it comes to things like this, and he truly, really appreciates everything you've done for their dorm.

POMEFIORE — ( raven queen, daughter of the evil queen! reader. )

vil really does admire your beauty in a little bit of a detached way. while you two can butt heads about your opinions sometimes, he still appreciates you for setting a new point of view into his life. if you let him pamper you in return, for a price!

you're someone who doesn't want to fit into standards, and vil is well, all about the standards. definitely gave each other bit of a dirty look when you first met, but it only goes up from there! at least i could only hope so.

the others think your bickering is quite silly, but it's really all in good fun. you help each other grow in your own ways, and it's actually really cute. he's content enough with how you are, so he would prefer not to change anything about you so far. keep it like that! or not.

rook and his love for your personality is really something. your playful little banters and small signs of flirtation go by quite easily to your surprise! he's a little bit overwhelming for your tastes sometimes, but it'll be all good.

to put it straight, rook was immediately captivated by you. a bit uncomfortable from the way he eyes you up and down, or as some people like to put it— examine you. but you two do bond over the little stuff, like rook with his archery and you with your dragon riding!

the type of person who'd see right through you, someone who'd squish your face with his hands to make you face up at him when he notices your gaze trail off to the side, asking you if you're okay with that soft smile on his face as he pinches your cheek.

epel, is an admirer of you! admire is a stretch, but it's not even close to how much he loves you. he wants to be just like you! strong and intimidating, but in your own sense. and yet still polite enough to teach him and calm him down about topics like this and brush it off saying it's nothing.

whilst he does practically worship you at this point, your relationship with epel is still, really, very playful. your humor's a bit dry, so whenever he teases, or rather attempts to tease you, you'd make fun of him for wanting to be manly, and being not manly enough.

"so.. are 'ya always this serious? can i get a smile outta 'ya?" is something he'd usually ask upon first meeting you, not even bothering to hide his accent because he can already tell you can see right through him. whilst you respond with a small smile, "if you want me to smile, you gotta earn it."

IGNIHYDE — ( blondie lockes, daughter of goldilocks! reader. )

idia would be somewhat overwhelmed by you, you're so.. energetic, pretty, bright, bubbly— anything positive he can think of. you really try your best to interact with him more, even if it means talking to a screen, which isn't really the type of communication of your choice.

you do admit, you never really notice the way you unintentionally tease idia for his habits, he knows you mean well, especially when you nag him affectionately about going out when he'd rather ramble about technology with you in the dorm rooms.

he really finds it cute when you ask him about random stuff with the topic of technology. it's adorable when you ask him to teach you coding since you want to make your own game— wanting to tell you it's not all that fun, but who could resist that face of yours, really?

ortho really finds you fun to be around. you'd find ortho extremely cute when you first meet him, almost immediately approaching him— but not even asking him about his robotic nature even though you are asking tons of questions, and this makes him feel really special <3

he'd help you with anything without even needing you to ask, assisting you with absolutely anything you need with a smile on his face. you're literally another sibling figure to him and he loves it so much! when you ask him if he can feel what you're feeling and he technically says yes, you immediately say "then can you feel my excitement of getting a snack right now?!"

your hobby being vlogging means your camera being broken sometimes, but worry not! ortho is here to help! and he swears it'll be better than before. you're always so positive that it's contagious to him! he gets motivated just because of you :)

DIASOMNIA — ( briar beauty, daughter of aurora! reader. )

malleus? pshh. you weren't even intimidated by him in the slightest bit. not from his status, at least. you weren't overwhelmed and quite literally just approached him respectfully out of curiosity. and he waaaass waiting for you to approach him, so it's a win-win in this case!

"so you're a prince, huh? i don't mind a bit of drama every now and then." he hears you say with a smile on your face, while he asks if you're not afraid of his presence when you just brush it off, saying you don't really have time to be afraid of people like him when he's generally really nice.

it's just so refreshing seeing you skip the formalities saying, "if we're gonna be together all the time, let's just skip them!" with a cheer. you're literally a royal, but you seem so different from your background, it makes him quite happy.. oh, and he's quite protective over you. he insists on coming with you every time you're going somewhere alone.

lilia would find this interesting. you'd often tease him for being a literal century old fae as he just brushes it off with a small chuckle. whilst he claps back with reminding you you'd go to sleep for hundreds of years, making you pout.

you're sharp enough to see through his little pranks, earning him a smack on the head from you, when he says you're no fun at all, you respond with he'll have to try harder next time around. like malleus, he's also, definitely, protective of you.

he says he's not babying you but he is, and it's painfully obvious from the way you can sense his presence around when you're alone out walking. he just wants you to stay safe in his own way, let him do his thing!

silver, woah, you two have a lot in common. especially with the sleeping thing and kinda— coming from the same origins. but he finds your presence comforting, it's a new thing with him! just be careful <3

you often poke him about being too quiet, teasing him about quote unquote "sleeping with his eyes opened", making him laugh softly while he tells you that he isn't sleeping, just observing. observing you, in a subtle way.. but he prefers not to admit it. at least not now?

literally everyone in diasomnia is protective when it comes to you. you're like.. the most protected person in the history of night raven college. silver would hold your hand to prevent you from wandering off into the woods alone, saying it's dangerous for a beauty like you, playfully referencing your last name.

sebek is, well... something! you have a push and pull relationship with him, and it's cute in it's own way. he's intense and he's a no-nonsense type of person! so.. you were probably more intimidated by him than you were with malleus.

you'd often mock his ways of speech, saying stuff like; "i must uphold the honor of the great malleus draconia!” with a hand on your heart, giggling playfully as he scowls at you in a lovingly way, trust me on this. he does find it cute when you imitate him, though..

yes, once again, protective. saying you shouldn't be going messing around so light-heartedly, adding that you shouldn't be so reckless whilst being the princess of briar valley, just like malleus, whilst you whine and say that you don't just want to wait for a prince to save you like that.

a/n — LORD I AM STRONG. FOR WRITING THIS IN UNDER 3 HOURS

[ducktoo]

Again

IVE’s Jang Wonyoung x M!Reader

Note: I have resorted to the sacred prompt list by Anon again….this helped me so much frrr. Hope you will post your first ever fic here so I can tagged you!!

This concludes the unofficial (or official ig) IZ*ONE marathon. @hyeyulenjoyer hope this was a fun ride for you. And thank you everyone for enjoying these fics as well! Also appreciate IVE for paying respect to the recent tragedy. All the dumb haters who find ways to hate them again....just touch grass pls.

(this was the perfect picture for this fic lol)

The tickets sit on your desk, undisturbed, their glossy surface catching the dim glow of your bedside lamp. You don’t even need to read the text printed on them anymore. The details are already burned into your brain.

A fan sign.

It was supposed to be special. The kind of thing you looked forward to for weeks, marked on your calendar with a little star. You were supposed to show up, tease her about messing up choreography, make her laugh in the middle of a serious performance, see that look in her eyes that was just for you.

Now, the tickets feel like a joke.

Your phone is face-down beside them, dark screen hiding the messages you haven't opened yet—the well-meaning texts from friends, the casual work notifications. All messages except from her.

Wonyoung.

You close your eyes, but it doesn't help. The memory of your last call with her is still fresh, the words playing over and over like a song stuck on repeat.

"I just don’t have time for this anymore."

"For us, you mean?"

"Mhm."

The way she said it—calm, measured, like it was just another item to tick off on her to-do list—had made something inside you crack. There had been no anger in her voice. No hesitation.

That…hurt more than anything.

You had wanted to say something, anything to make her stop. To remind her of the nights spent whispering over the phone until she fell asleep, of the rare moments when she let herself be vulnerable with you, of the way she would light up the second she saw you waiting for her backstage to take her to eat a whole cow together.

But you couldn't mutter a voice.

You had just sat there, phone pressed to your ear, fingers gripping the fabric of your hoodie so tightly it threatened to tear.

And then, just like that, she was gone.

It was three days ago.

Three days of checking your phone too often. Three days of convincing yourself you were fine. Three days of staring at these damn tickets on the desk and trying to figure out why you hadn’t just thrown them away. You should sell them. Give them to someone who’d actually enjoy them.

But something stops you.

Maybe it’s pride. Maybe it’s stubbornness. Maybe it’s the stupid, lingering part of you that refuses to admit that she’s really gone. Whatever the reason, you find yourself gripping them tighter instead of throwing them away.

You decided that you will go.

Not for her. Not to see her.

Just so you don’t have to sit in this room, drowning in thoughts of what used to be.

That’s what you tell yourself, anyway.

-

The venue is packed.

Fans shuffle forward in line, their chatter buzzing in the air like static. Excited whispers, rustling light sticks, the occasional squeal when a favourite member’s name is mentioned.

Your fingers tighten around the album in your hands. (Ironically you still hold onto her album)

This is normal for them. For the fans around you, this is just another fan sign. A chance to meet their idols, to share fleeting moments, to walk away with a signature and a memory they’ll cherish for years.

You should feel the same. Instead, you’re just… tired. Who could blame you, you’re about to come face-to-face with your ex-girlfriend.

And she has no idea you’re here.

Your grip on the album tightens as the line inches forward. The first few members greet you with polite smiles, their voices light and bubbly. You do your best to respond normally, but your mind is elsewhere, trapped in the inevitable moment that keeps creeping closer and closer.

You don’t need to look up to know she’s at the end of the table. You can feel her presence.

And then, suddenly, there’s no more time left.

Your album slides across the table. Long, slender fingers stop it in place.

There’s a small pause—so brief that no one else seems to notice—but you do. You feel it in the slight delay before she looks up, in the way her fingers tighten just a fraction around the album’s edge.

And then her eyes meet yours.

She looks the same. Flawless, as always. Every strand of hair perfectly in place, makeup soft and ethereal under the bright overhead lights. And those sparkly eyes that you often got lost in.

But…she’s not yours anymore. Not at all.

There was a flicker of something—recognition, surprise, something deeper—crosses her face. But it’s gone in an instant, replaced by a carefully neutral expression.

Her lips part slightly, but no words come out at first. Then…

“Hey.”

It’s awkward. Too awkward. You can feel the tension hanging between you, thick and suffocating.

You swallow, trying to ignore the way your chest tightens. “Hey.”

For a split second, she looks like she wants to say something else. Like she wants to break the script, ignore the rehearsed greetings and practiced smiles.

But then—

She doesn’t.

Instead, she picks up her pen, the mask slipping back into place. Her expression evens out, and in a voice so perfectly professional it almost stings, she says,

“Thanks for coming.”

Just like she would to any other fan. That made your stomach twists.

You should’ve known. Of course, she wouldn't acknowledge it. Not here. Not in front of all these people.

Still, it doesn’t make it hurt any less.

You swallow the lump in your throat. “Yeah. Would’ve been a waste of money if I didn’t.”

Something flickers across her face, but it’s gone before you can catch it. She presses her lips together, nodding slightly. “Right. Can’t have that.”

She signs her name, her handwriting as neat and practiced as always. But there’s a hesitance in the way she moves, a slight delay before she lifts the pen from the page.

When she finally pushes the album back toward you, her fingers linger just a second longer than necessary.

Then, in a voice so quiet that only you can hear…

“Take care, okay?”

She’s looking at you now. Really looking at you.

And for a moment, just one fleeting moment, she’s not the Jang Wonyoung, the IT girl, the global superstar.

She’s just…Wonyoung.

The girl who used to call you late at night just to hear your voice.

The girl who used to lace her fingers through yours under the table when no one was looking.

The girl who told you she didn’t have time for you anymore.

You stare at her.

The words stick to your throat. You genuinely don’t trust yourself to say anything.

So you just…don’t.

You just take the album, stand up, and walk away. And even as you disappear into the crowd, you can still feel her eyes on you.

-

You’ve been doing fine.

Or at least, that’s what you keep telling yourself.

It’s been a few days since the fan sign, and you’ve buried yourself in anything that keeps your mind occupied—work, games, mindless scrolling through your phone. Anything to keep yourself from replaying the look on Wonyoung’s face at the fansign. From remembering the way she hesitated before handing your album back. From thinking about the way her gaze kept flickering toward you as you walk away, as if she was looking for something.

Or someone.

But that’s not your problem anymore. You told yourself that the moment you left the venue.

Which is why, when your phone starts ringing at an ungodly hour, you almost don’t check the caller ID. Almost.

The second you see her name flashing on the screen, your stomach twists.

Jang Wonyoung.

The ringing continues, each second stretching unbearably. You should let it go. Turn off your phone. Pretend you never saw it.

But you don’t. Because deep down, you know you still want to hear her voice. So you answer.

“...Hello?”

There’s silence on the other end for a moment, followed by a soft giggle—breathy and drawn out, the kind that used to slip past her lips whenever she was feeling particularly affectionate.

"Dummmyy!" she hums, stretching your nickname like it’s some sweet, familiar melody.

“Wonyo. Are you drunk?” You sigh, ignoring the way your nickname for her easily rolled out of your tongue.

She giggles again, the sound loose and unguarded. "Mmm… maybe."

"Goddamn it." You rub your temples. "Where are you?"

A rustling noise filters through the receiver, followed by the distant hum of traffic. "Somewhere," she mumbles. "Some bar, I think. The girls took me out."

Figures.

You shift in bed, propping yourself up against the headboard. “It’s late.”

“I know,” she says, not sounding the least bit apologetic. “But I wanted to call you.”

You close your eyes, exhaling through your nose. “Why?”

She doesn’t answer immediately. Instead, there’s a soft exhale, the kind she lets out when she’s gathering her thoughts. Then, quieter…

“Because I miss you.”

Your fingers tighten around the phone.

"Don’t do that," you say quietly.

"Do what?"

"Say things you don’t mean."

Another pause. When she speaks again, her voice is steadier. "But I do mean it. I do miss you."

You swallow, trying to keep your voice steady. "Well, that’s not my problem anymore, is it?"

She goes quiet.

For a moment, all you hear is the faint sound of music in the background, the distant chatter of people. She’s probably in the back of some high-end bar or a private lounge that someone of her status often went. You can picture it too easily—her long hair falling over her shoulders, her lips painted red, the glow of the city lights reflecting in her eyes.

Your heart beat rapidly at the image.

"You came to the fansign," she says suddenly, cutting into your thoughts.

You rub at your temple. "Mhm."

"Why?"

"You already know why."

"Say it anyway."

You sigh. "Because I had the tickets. It would’ve been a waste."

She lets out a humourless laugh. "Right. Can’t have that."

Something about the way she repeats your words from that day makes your stomach twist.

There’s another long pause. Then, almost hesitantly.

"Did you feel anything?"

Your eyes widened. "Feel what?"

"When you saw me again." Her voice is quieter now. "Did you feel anything?"

Your jaw clenches. You want to lie. Want to say no, not at all. That it didn’t matter. That she doesn’t matter. But you can’t.

Because the truth is, you felt everything.

The way your heart clenched when she looked at you. The way your stomach twisted when her fingers hesitated over your name. The way your mind screamed at you to move on, to stop letting her affect you, to stop caring.

But you don’t tell her any of that.

Instead, you settle for, "Who cares anyway."

"Why not?"

"Because we’re done, Jang Wonyoung."

She sucks in a sharp breath, and for a second, you wonder if she’s about to cry.

"You-" She stops, swallows. When she speaks again, her voice is unsteady. "You didn’t even try to fight for me."

Your grip tightens around the phone, knuckles turning white. "You were the one who ended things. On the phone, may I remind you."

"I know," she whispers. "And I thought it was the right choice. But now I just—" She breaks off, voice cracking slightly. "I don’t know anymore."

You shut your eyes.

It would be so easy to give in. To tell her that you don’t know either, that you still think about her, that you still wonder if maybe—just maybe—this wasn’t supposed to end like this.

But what’s the point?

She made her choice.

And you’re tired of being the one left picking up the pieces.

"You’re drunk, Jang Wonyoung," you say, voice carefully even. "Go home and go to sleep."

"Wait—"

"Goodnight."

And then, before she can say another word, you hang up.

The silence that follows is deafening.

And yet, for the first time in days, you finally let yourself breathe.

-

Or at least, it should be.

You did the right thing, you tell yourself—cut it off before it could spiral any further. Before you let yourself believe, even for a second, that anything has changed.

But still, the weight in your chest lingers.

The room feels too quiet now, the kind of silence that presses in from all sides, making it impossible to ignore the thoughts creeping into your head. You lie back down, throwing an arm over your eyes, willing yourself to sleep.

You don’t know how much time passes before you hear it.

A knock.

You freeze.

At first, you think you’re imagining it. Sleep-deprived, emotionally drained, and still reeling from that damn phone call, your brain must be conjuring things that aren’t real. But then, the knocking got more insistent. Erratic, yet insistent.

Your brows furrow. You sit up, straining your ears.

"Who the hell…?"

It’s almost 3 AM. No one in their right mind would be visiting you at this hour. Then again, you just got a call from a drunk girl not in their right mind.

Knock, knock, knock.

It’s louder this time, clumsy and uncoordinated, like whoever’s on the other side can barely keep their balance. A sinking feeling settles in your stomach.

You begrudingly throw off your blankets and push yourself up, padding toward the door. Your hand hovers over the handle for a second before you sigh and pull it open.

And there she is.

Wonyoung.

She’s standing there in the dim, flickering hallway light, wrapped in a thin coat that does nothing to protect her from the cold. Her long hair is slightly tousled, the glossy perfection from the concert gone, strands falling loosely over her shoulders. She sways just the slightest, a delicate wobble on unsteady feet. Her lips are slightly parted, eyes glassy—not just from the alcohol but from something else. Something unreadable.

You blink.

She blinks back, like she’s just now processing that you’re standing in front of her.

Then, with absolutely no warning, she wobbles forward, collapsing against your chest.

You barely manage to catch her. “Jesus—Wonyo.” You gently hold her arms, steadying her. “What the hell are you doing here?”

"Surprise," she breathes, half-laughing, half-sniffling.

You let out a sharp breath. “Surprise? You’re seriously—” You stop yourself, jaw clenching. “How did you even get here?”

"I took a taxi," she announces, like that explains anything. Like that justifies her showing up at your door past midnight after breaking up with you.

You stare at her. “Alone?”

“Mmhmm.”

Your stomach twists. “Wonyoung, do you have any idea how dangerous that is?”

She just hums, leaning more of her weight onto you. Her forehead presses against your shoulder, and you can feel the slight tremble in her body.

You sigh, tightening your grip. “You’re freezing.”

“I was walking.”

“Walking where?”

She doesn’t answer. Instead, she tilts her head back to look at you properly. Her lips part slightly, like she’s about to say something—something serious, something she’s probably been holding in for too long. But then, she hiccups.

You close your eyes, exhaling sharply through your nose. “You’re unbelievable.”

She smiles lazily, like she didn’t just show up at your door dead drunk in the middle of the night after breaking up with you.

"You hung up on me," she murmurs.

You pull back slightly, just enough to see her properly. “Yeah. I did.”

"That was mean," she says, pouting. "I was talking."

"You were drunk."

"Still talking."

You shake your head, adjusting your grip on her. “Come on. You need water. And sleep.”

She hums, letting you guide her inside. “Only if you let me stay.”

You pause.

For a brief second, something in her voice sounds painfully sober.

But then she giggles again, burying her face in your chest, and you decide that you’ll deal with that in the morning.

For now, you just hold her close.

You sigh, pressing your lips into a thin line as you shift your grip on her. She’s barely standing at this point, practically melting into you like she has no bones in her body.

"Alright, come on," you mutter, wrapping an arm around her waist and leading her inside.

She stumbles slightly, her fingers gripping at your shirt as she giggles under her breath. "You smell nice," she mumbles.

You ignore that.

You close the door behind you with your foot, guiding her toward the couch. She flops onto it with zero resistance, her coat slipping off her shoulders. The moment she’s down, she tilts her head back, blinking up at you like she’s expecting something.

She doesn’t hesitate. Stumble inside like she belongs here.

And maybe that’s the problem. She did belong here.

And now? Now you don’t know.

Her eyes lazily drift across the apartment, lingering on the things she still remembers—the half-empty cup of coffee on your desk, the hoodie she used to steal draped over the chair, the faint indent in the couch where she used to curl up next to you.

Then she noticed your desk, the same desk where the fansign ticket sat just days ago. The same one she saw in your hands at the fansign days ago.

"You really came," she murmurs, not looking at you. "I didn’t think you actually would."

You shrug. "Like I said. Would’ve been a waste."

She flinches. Just the tiniest bit. But you catch it.

She exhales slowly, arms wrapping around herself. "It was weird."

"What was?"

"Seeing you there. But not... There, you know?" She fully looks at you now, and there's something raw in her expression. Something you’re not sure you’re ready to face. "You didn’t smile. You didn’t tease me like you usually do. You barely even looked at me."

"What did you expect?" you ask quietly. "You dumped me, Wonyoung. You can’t just expect me to act like nothing happened."

She presses her lips together, fingers gripping the hem of her sleeve. "I know."

You wait. Give her the space to say what she came here to say.

But she doesn’t. Not right away.

She defeatedly sighed, tucking her knees under her chin, looking smaller than she ever has before. She stares at her hands for a long moment before mumbling, "I don’t know why I came here."

You scoff. "Really? Because from where I’m standing, it looks like you drunk-called your ex, then showed up at his apartment in the middle of the night without a plan."

She frowns. "I do have a plan."

You raise an eyebrow. "Yeah?"

She huffs. "Step one: get inside. Step two..." She falters, looking away. "...I didn’t think that far."

You shake your head. "Unbelievable."

Silence stretches between you, heavy and unspoken.

Then, barely above a whisper, "Do you hate me?"

You freeze.

Your first instinct is to say no. Because of course you don’t hate her. You never could.

But that’s not the right answer, is it?

So instead, you tell the truth.

"I don’t know," you admit. "I want to. But I can't."

She looks up at you then, eyes searching. Hopeful and afraid all at once. "I messed up, didn’t I?"

You let out a hollow laugh. "Yea. Big time."

She swallows. Lowers her gaze again. "I thought breaking up would make things easier. For you…for both of us."

"Did it?"

She shakes her head. "No."

You run a hand through your hair, exhaling. "Then why did you do it?"

"I was scared," she says, and her voice is so small, so unlike the confident idol the world knows, that it almost hurts to hear. "I thought I was being selfish, holding onto you when I barely had time to see you. I thought you deserved more than stolen moments and rushed phone calls."

Your jaw clenches. "You didn’t even ask me what I wanted."

"I know," she whispers. "I thought I was making the right choice."

You sit down across from her, legs spread, elbows on your knees. "And now?"

She meets your gaze, vulnerability laid bare. "Now... I just miss you."

Your heart leaped a mile. This was the Wonyoung you always see. Not the glamorous and model-esque Jang Wonyoung everyone always see on TV. Not the well-spoken and powerful public figure everyone knows. Just…a gentle yet bubbly girl who snuggled up next to you on the couch at the end of the day.

But your brain should tell her to leave. To sleep it off, to sober up and think about this when her mind is clearer.

Then she reaches out—just the slightest, her fingers brushing against yours on the couch. And you don’t pull away.

"You’re drunk," you remind her, though your voice lacks conviction.

She smiles faintly. "Thanks…Mr. Obvious."

Silence. Then, tentatively, "Can I sleep here tonight?"

Another hesitation.

But just like before, you already know your answer.

You sigh. Your hand intertwined with hers.

"Go get a blanket. Wonyo."

She doesn’t move right away. Just watches you, like she’s memorizing you all over again.

Then, with a small, almost relieved nod, she gets up and stumbled into your bedroom as she dragged you along—the same bedroom she used to slip into after long schedules, the same one she used to call hers.

And just like that, the distance you tried so hard to create crumbles.

Again.

[pintsize-monkey]

i feel this way about plenty of stuff i grew up with, especially a lot of music, horror genre things, and youtubers i liked. i did have lots of kid friendly things which i love interacting with when regressed but also!!! i liked watching people play rpgmaker horror games back in the day and watching jackscepticeye, playing bloody video games, and ive been listening to emo music and engaging with scene kid stuff since i was only two sauce packets big. i just grew up that way. that stuff, and my current interests now that im an adult, are still things i interact with when im regressed. obviously, certain things should not be brought into agere spaces, like nsfw content, but thats a given. theres a whole big list of not "kid friendly" stuff that can still be completely safe to engage with when regressing, its a little weird for some ppl completely invalidate that some of us were unsupervised internet kids, baby goths, or just like to engage with media that is more mature. its not "bad" or "unsafe regression", nor is it making the regressor like. miserable??? for goodness sake, half my generation was obsessed with fnaf in elementary school!!! i was on newgrounds as a kid!!! a lot of ageres are autistic as well and take their spins or fixations into regression with them, including me, and sometimes what youre into is like. some niche horror media. or a death metal band. or homestuck. as long as its tagged properly so that ppl who only want kid friendly stuff dont have to see it, i think it is cool and ok to regress with ur "big kid only" interests. :3 childhood means something different to everyone, and that has to be respected. what matters is that what youre doing makes u happy and brings u comfort.

sometimes regression/inner child healing is indulging in the things you enjoyed as a kid, even if they weren't actually child friendly.

i'm a 2000s kid who grew up with the internet, and you know darn well i was NOT supervised! i watched some insane stuff on youtube as a really young kid. and you know what? i go back and watch them sometimes, and it actually does help me regress.

one of my favorite youtube series as a young kid was called "is it a good idea to microwave this?" and it's exactly as it sounds. lots of crude humor, lots of swearing, lots of things exploding in microwaves. but every time i rewatch the series i can't help but feel like i'm 7 again, laughing at these silly guys putting silly things in their microwave.

this is why i get kinda bent outta shape when people say non-kid friendly media doesn't have a place in age regression when it absolutely does. some of us grew up with crude adult humor, and thus it helps us regress when we go back and watch it! and i think that's extremely valid.

[bunny-jpeg]

quenching a thirst

daniel ricciardo

request: is there any possibility to have 2 and 10 with daniel for the valentines ask? 2. “i’ve never wanted anyone to fuck me this badly.” + 10. “we’re in public, you know.”

tags: smut/pwp, semi-public sex (in a closet), assistant!reader, secret relationship, oral sex (reader receives), quick & messy, hair pulling

eros (the valentine's collection)

"danny." you said as you placed your hands on his chest. it only encouraged him to lean in closer to you. you said a little more sternly, "danny."

"no one is watching, just one kiss. i want to taste that lip gloss of yours when i talk to the reporters." he licked his lips. you hated that there was something about him that made you flustered. flirting came natural to him and it made you feel warm all over.

you held onto your clipboard in your free hand and said, "and they could come bargaining in at any second. you want to be on the news for being at this charity event, not for kissing your assistant." but daniel still captured your lips in his.

when he pulled away, he licked his lips and said, "mmm, apple pie."

but you knew one kiss wouldn't calm down daniel's need for you. one kiss turned into two and two often turned into three rounds of sex in the closest bad you could find. you knew you had every chance to say no, but the charm of daniel ricciardo was undeniable.

even when he got on your nerves at times. you gave him several small kisses and one long make-out session with his tongue in your mouth before he was able to do his interviews. you tried to deny the heat between your legs while you watched him from the sidelines. you could see the slight shine on his lips, obvious from your kisses.

you had been secretly seeing daniel for about six months. you had been his assistant for over a year and a half, all that time together let something bloom between you two. nights spent between races, the home-cooked meals you made him try, that one time you held his hand while he got his newest tattoo.

you two were close and daniel loved you. which was why he yearned for your kisses. and why he whined when you refused to give him more. he was insatiable at times, but yet it made you flustered. like when he kissed you and ran his tongue across your bottom lip.

"we're in public you know." you said as you ended up pressed against the wall of a hallway. you moaned into another kiss when he pinched you behind.

you knew it didn't actually matter. you could publicly date him with little to no fuss. but you didn't want people to think you got your job because you were sleeping with your boss. daniel understood, he respected that you wanted to be seen with integrity. but that didn't lessen his need for your kisses and your love.

"sorry, babe." he said sweetly, "i like when you make sure i'm well taken care of. i feel like i should do the same considering how needy you get."

you chuckled, warmed by his words, "what do you me to say? i've never wanted anyone to fuck me this badly? get on my knees for you." you held onto his strong shoulders. you were totally smitten.

the allure he had over you, you were both alone in the hallway with his lips on yours. he said lowly, "i want you. i want to taste you. i don't think i can wait till we get back home." his large hands were on your hips. he held you close and licked his top lip.

"you're insatiable, ricciardo."

he leaned in further, "i know, but you love me. just like how i love you." you quickly ended up in a supply closet with your back up against a few shelves.

"fuck." you whispered as daniel quickly and quietly closed the door and turned on the low light. even in the dim light he looked good, you eyes him as he got to his knees and hiked up your short skirt. you covered your mouth as he pulled your panties down and exposed your pussy to him.

"look at you." he mused quietly, "you look so good. i et you taste so sweet. when i was talking to the press i thought about you. how i'd rather be back home with my head between your thighs." and chuckled before he heard you quietly moan.

"danny." you said and tensed up as he kissed your pussy. he held onto your soft thighs with your skirt pushed up to your waist and your panties to your ankles. you leaned further against the shelves.

his tongue was talented, and with a pussy as perfect as yours he only wanted to make you feel good. he groaned against your cunt and licked at it. he could feel heat in his body, the air in the cramped space got warmer. his cock throbbed in his jeans. he held on a little tighter and pressed his nose further into your sex.

your wetness stained his lips more than your lip gloss did earlier. while daniel liked the apple pie flavour, your pussy tasted better. you moaned and tried to keep yourself composed. you couldn't be too loud or else people would start to get curious. you covered your mouth once more with one hand and held onto his short dark hair with the other.

daniel groaned against your pussy when you gave his hair a short tug. he licked your stiff clit and felt an electric feeling move through him. you tasted divine. he pressed further, he couldn't get enough. your pussy was the most divine of tastes and it made daniel eager to have more.

his attention on your clit made your body tense up as pleasure raced through you. "danny." you said in a hushed tone, "right there, fuck. i love when you tease my clit." you shakily exhaled and held onto his hand with both hands now. it all felt overwhelming in the best way possible, but you couldn't cause a scene right now.

you didn't want to be public with your relationship at that time, you knew what a hard launch was. but you didn't want to launch your relationship because someone cause daniel's head between your legs!

he looked up at you and dragged his tongue messily across your cunt. your wetness drooled down his chin. he was a messy eater. it was endearing, almost cute. you felt a wobble in your knees as he admired you for a moment before he went back to orally pleasuring you.

you felt the lingering heat in your body and swore under your breath. his large hands held onto your thighs and he licked your sopping wet sex. you whimpered as his movements and you knew you weren't going to last much longer.

daniel felt the strain in his jeans as he continued to pleasure your pussy with a talented eagerness. he could feel the pre-cum stain the front of his briefs. he couldn't care less. not when he had a mission. your eager noises only pulled him in closer and he loved how you tasted. it was like a taste of heaven and your noises were angel choirs, it made his heart sing. it felt good as he applied more pressure to his movements and then felt you quiver around him.

in a cramped storage room, daniel feasted on your beautifully slick cunt and your hushed pleasured noises. you felt blissed out as he only worked himself harder against you.

daniel loved you, that was certain. he knew it from the bottom of his heart. he ached for you, needed to be close to you. even when you tried to do your job. you held on a little tighter and pushed your pussy up against him. he could feel your love through your pussy up against his face.

"please. fuck, yes." you near squeaked as the pleasure reached its pack. you shakily exhaled in an attempt to hold back a moan. silence was key. it was heated in the closet, the sweat dampened your back as your breathed heavily.

daniel's moan was muffled by your pussy and felt the tension in your thighs. he gave you one last lick and felt your orgasm cross through you. he looked up and watched you have to cover your mouth as you came. your knees shook as the intense feeling washed over you. a small noise spilled from his lips. you cursed under your breath as you relaxed a little.

daniel pulled away and wiped his wet mouth with the back of his hand. he chuckled lightly and let himself remain excited. he grinned at you, "pretty girl." then helped you back into your panties before he pushed your skirt down over your thighs.

"i'm not making this a habit." you said pointedly. daniel got back to his feel, he kissed you on the cheek before he wiped his wet mouth.

"of course." he wrapped his arms around you, "next time we'll just leave easily and i can see how loud you can get." then winked.

you playfully pushed his chest, "you're insatiable, danny."

"i know, but only for you." <3

[slut4hee]

Sharing Is Caring

{Paring: Sister’s Boyfriend Sunghoon x Blk Fem! Reader

{Genre: smut, cheating, angst?? 18+ so (mdni).

{Synopsis: You knew sleeping around with your sister’s boyfriend was so out of line, and nothing but sinful. But you just couldn’t resist temptations….

{Warnings: explicit scenes, rough sex, unprotected sex, oral (m receiving), fingering, dirty talk, pet names, creampie, multiple orgasms, sexting, nude sending, mutual masturbation, daddy kink, praise kink, reader is a brat and has little to no shame cheating with her older sister’s bf age gap reader is 21 and hoon is 28, ( I don’t condone this, very much fictional!), they fuck in his and her sister’s shared bed, reader lowkey has it out for her big sis if you really think about it… lmk if missed anything

—————————————————————————

You sighed annoyingly, rolling your eyes as you listen to your mother bickering, about the time you dropped in last night. You’re a twenty one year old adult, who still has a curfew, whose mother monitors their spending, and to top it off you’re not allowed to have your room door locked. At first you didn’t mind still being at home, living rent free, only paying for things of your own, like your phone bill and other unnecessary expenses you spent your money drastically on.

But now you’ve reached your breaking point, you feel like you’re trapped and constantly being nagged at by your parents. When will they realize you weren’t a kid anymore, when will they realized you’re in charge of your life here. Well that obviously didn’t seem like anytime soon, being that your mother was chewing your head off right now, about you sneaking out to go to a party and coming home at 6 in the morning.

You weren’t the only child either, you have an older sister who to her luck, moved out as soon as she graduated from high school. at first she stayed in a dormitory with her two roommates, but now she currently has her own apartment, that she shares with her boyfriend Sunghoon of three years. You envy your older sister Raya so much, she’s always been the favorite of the family, whether it was receiving special treatment from your parents, to always being the more popular one.

You were truly the definition of the black sheep of the family, nobody ever expected much from you, never expecting you to achieve any goals or have any big plans in life. Yes you got into plenty in trouble back in high school, yes you been drinking since an underage kid, yes you puff puff that green plant stuff, but you still deserved to be loved and treated with respect.

Finally your mother dismissed you, telling you to go up to your room because she didn’t want to see your face anymore, you gladly did so stomping your way upstairs to your room. You slammed the door, your mother screaming at you from downstairs not to slam her door again, you rolled your eyes before plopping down on your bed. You stared blankly up at the white ceiling, picturing what life would be like, if you weren’t still tied down to your parents.

Just as you’re about to get deeper in thought, your phone rings, knocking you out of your train of focus. You looked at the screen, to see your Raya calling, it’s been a few days since you guys talk, being that she’s always busy at work. You sighed before picking up the call, placing it on speaker phone.

“What?” You said nonchalantly, you weren’t even going to hide that fact you were so annoyed.

“Oh wow! Is that the way you greet your big sister, that missed her little sister so much” Raya framed sadness, a dramatic gasp following after your words. You rolled your eyes once again, flipping over to now lay on your stomach.

“Let me guess, you and Mom got into it again?” She said knowingly, you sighed dramatically before stuffing your face in your pillow, letting out a very much needed scream.

“What do you think? God she’s so annoying, when will her and dad stop being so hard on me” You whined, sitting up straight again.

“When you finally move out, why do you think I made that my plan as soon as I graduated” Raya says, you could hear her typing on her computer at work, per usual.

“That’s because my mom and dad let you, they’ve always been more lenient on you than me anyways” You said, in fact you remember your parents helping Raya move her things inside her dormitory no problem. But now that you were in college, your mother always talks you out of moving in a dormitory, and saying it’s best and cheaper if you just stay at home.

“Hey now, they used to get on my ass about shit I did too” Raya said, you chuckled sarcastically to yourself, of course she would say some bogus shit like that.

“Yeah sure” You simply said, sighing once again, all you wanted was to enjoy your youth, but nope the odds were so against you.

“Well you know, I was thinking about something last night, and honestly I wouldn’t hate it if you move in with me and Sunghoon” Raya suddenly said, you sat up real fast at her words, was she being for real right now, or was she just fucking with you.

“Wait? Are you like dead serious, or are you trying to fuck with me?” You said in defense, not really believing her words, they just seemed too good to be true.

“Why would I be playing, you’re my little sister, and I know how it feels to feel trapped” Raya simply said, her typing on her computer halting. You stood in silence for a moment before replying back.

“But what about your boyfriend?” You inquired, you didn’t know much about Raya’s boyfriend, you just knew they met freshman year, started off as friends, now they’re happily dating. You’ve also only seen him once for thanksgiving, when Raya first brought him home to meet your parents.

“Oh Sunghoon? He’s perfectly fine with it, in fact he’s already offered to help you move your stuff in when time comes” She then begin to boast about how good of boyfriend Sunghoon is, and how lucky she is to be his girlfriend. You obviously tuned that shit out, just thankful you wouldn’t have to lug all your stuff by yourself.

“I accept your offer wholeheartedly, but you’re talking to mom about it, not me” You said, you couldn’t help but feel so thrilled to be finally moving out.

“𝗙𝗶𝗻𝗲, 𝗶𝘁’𝘀 𝗮 𝗱𝗼𝗻𝗲 𝗱𝗲𝗮𝗹”

//

It’s now the next week, and it’s the day you move in with your sister and her boyfriend. You look around your half empty room with mixed emotions, some part of you will probably miss being at home, but you’re pretty sure once you realize how much freedom you have your emotions will change

Your dad is loading all your stuff on his pickup truck, and you’re saying your goodbyes to your childhood room for a while. Finally everything was packed up, and you were now on the way to your sister’s apartment. Raya had to work today, but she told you that Sunghoon had took the day off to help you move your stuff in.

You guys then pulled into the apartment complex, it was luxurious yet homey looking apartments, the neighborhood quiet and reserved. You hopped out of the truck, stretching your body, causing your crop top to ride up even higher. You walked up to the front door, knocking on it semi hard, but nobody answered. You knocked again but this time a lot more harder, and you finally heard Sunghoon’s muffled voice shouting that he was coming.

Finally the door opened, and you’re met with the sight of Sunghoon’s tall figure towering over you, he look like he had just woken up, his hair a mess and his eyes looked so sleepy. Your eyes trailed down his figure, he was dressed in a white muscle shirt, with gray sweatpants. You can’t remember if Sunghoon always been this fine and you just didn’t pay attention to him, or if he just had a major glow up.

“Crap I’m so sorry, I lost track of time, and fell asleep on the couch” He apologized, running his hands through his fluffy hair. You bit your lip, your eyes scanning his fit physique before waving him off, telling him it’s okay. He gave you a polite grin, before stepping aside to let you in, the apartment looked cozy and lived in, and a lot of the things inside the apartment screamed Raya.

Sunghoon went out to say hello to your father, also grab your stuff out of the trunk. Meanwhile you took a minute to look around the place, it was a pretty spacious apartment, and now you see why your sister had no problem letting you stay there. You came back out into the living room, watching as Sunghoon lugged all your stuff inside the apartment, he was now sweaty from the extreme hot weather and of course heavy lifting.

You tried not to make your stares obvious, watching his muscles tense and clench, every time he picked up a box and moved it to your now new bedroom. Finally all your things were now inside your new bedroom, and you were starting to unpack. You heard a soft knock on your room door, and you took out your AirPods, going to open the door.

“Hey uh, your sister wanted me to let you know she’s gonna be dropping in pretty late tonight, so just make yourself at home, I also ordered pizza” Sunghoon said softly and smiled at you, you felt a funny feeling in your stomach when he smiled at you like that, his pearly white fangs showing.

“Sounds good, thanks” You gave him a small smile, he was just about to close the door until you called out to him.

“Yeah?” He asked, making brief eye contact with you, his gaze was so intimidating, yet there was softness behind his eyes.

“Just wanted to say thank you for moving my stuff, and also allowing me to stay here with no problem” You said, giving him a friendly smile.

“Oh it’s no problem at all, plus you’re my girlfriend’s little sister of course I’ll be okay with it” He said, you had to fight the urge not to roll your eyes at his comment, of course he’s only doing all this because of Raya. You nodded before, going back to folding your clothes and filling your drawers.

Not long after, Sunghoon returned back to your door, knocking softly once again. You had just gotten out of the shower, your towel wrapped around your wet body. You smirked, before walking over to answer the door, not giving two fucks that you’re gonna be standing in front him half naked. Honestly some sick part of you was hoping he looks, maybe even you’ll drop your towel by “accident”.

“Yes?” You said softly, opening the door wide so he can see everything, Sunghoon eyes widened, before he quickly turned away, apologizing over and over again.

“Oh my god I’m so sorry, I-I just wanted to let you know the pizza was here” He stuttered, still covering his eyes. You had to fight back a giggle, your sister wasn’t lying when she said Sunghoon was respectful and loyal to her, but the dark side of you was determined to change that.

“Calm down it’s fine, I’m just in my towel, not like I’m fully naked” You said teasingly, smirking mischievously. Sunghoon cleared his throat before speaking again.

“Just come out whenever you’re ready” He said real fast, before rushing away from your door. You rolled your eyes and said “what a pussy” under your breath and went to go get dressed. You were dressed now, and honestly you were starving, you remembered you haven’t eaten anything this morning and your stomach was begging for food.

You were dressed in only a crop tank top, sleep shorts that was way too short to be considered appropriate, and on top of that, you weren’t wearing a bra your nipples peaking through the fabric. Sunghoon damn near had a heart attack when you walked out of your room, your tits bouncing around in your tank top as you walked, and your plump asscheeks were hanging out of your shorts.

He wanted to slap himself for secretly looking at you in that way, he instantly felt guilty, and decided it was best he ate dinner inside him and Raya’s bedroom.

“Mmm smells so good, your soft voice said, leaning against the counter top as you looked inside the boxes of pizza. The action caused your shirt to ride up, showing the bottom fat of your boobs.

Sunghoon felt suffocated and disgusted with himself, it wasn’t like you were doing this on purpose, he felt like such a pervert, what would his girlfriend think about him looking at her little sister in such an inappropriate manner.

Little did he know you were definitely doing this on purpose….

You watched as Sunghoon grabbed his plate and drink off the counter, before heading to their bedroom. You frowned at that, and folded your arms.

“Where are you going? Did you not want to eat with me or something?” You questioned, placing a slice a pizza on your plate, and grabbing a drink as well. Sunghoon turned to look at you, he was fighting the urge to let his eyes roam your body.

“No! Of course not, it’s just I’m a little tired so I was just gonna eat real quick then head to bed after” He nodded, awkwardly scratching the back of his neck. You smirked at him, before walking slowly over to where he’s standing. Sunghoon could feel his heart rate picking up, his palms were growing sweaty, and suddenly the plate and drink he was holding felt ten times heavier.

“Oh come on don’t be like that hoonie, you could go to your room right after we eat together, promise I don’t bite unless you want me to” You said flirtatiously, looking up at him. Sunghoon felt his stomach drop, a twitch in his pants, and his throat felt dry.

“You’re right haha, sure let’s eat together, besides my mother always told me it’s not good to eat in the bedroom anyways” He smiled awkwardly before sitting at the dining table with you. He thought you would sit on the other side of the table but nope, you set right next to him, the spot where Raya usually sits when they have dinner.

You went on like normal though, munching on your food and paid little to no attention to him. That’s what he thought, what he didn’t know is that you were plotting your next move.

“So, what do you do for work hoonie?” You smiled innocently at him, but deep down there was not an innocent thought running through your head right now, as you stared at him, watching how his Adam’s apple bobbed when he swallows. Sunghoon fingers twitch as he held the cup, you had easily established this nickname for him, and on top of that, you’re looking at him with those fuck me eyes.

The least he expected was for his girlfriend’s little sister to be throwing herself at him, he also didn’t expect her to be this fucking sexy, he was in so much trouble now. He cleared his throat, before putting his cup down to answer.

“I’m into interior design, so I’m a home renovator, I actually helped design some of these pieces in our place like this table we’re sitting at” He smiled friendly, you sat and listened to Sunghoon speak passionately about his career, and you paid attention to every word he was saying. It was so attractive to see him geek about interior designs, and how fascinating it is to build things.

“Sorry I’m ranting, I just really enjoy what I do you know?” He chuckled awkwardly, biting his lip nervously. You grin softly, before placing your hand on his thigh under the table, he jumped at the sudden action, looking at you real quick. You didn’t say anything, but just stared at him with your lust filled eyes, hypnotizing him so dangerously. He managed to break out of your trance, standing up real quick and grabbing his plate and cup off the table.

“Well it was nice to have dinner together, I think I’m gonna head to bed now, I’m glad to have you here as well” He said, placing his dishes in the sink and headed to his room. Once he shut the door, he leaned his back against it, letting out huge breath he didn’t know he was holding. Were you always this flirty ? Were you being flirty? Or was he just being a perv? All those thoughts run through his head at once.

He looked down at his pants, and his cock was hard in his pants, he hoped to god you didn’t notice it. Would you tell on him, and call him a nasty pervert, or would you take care of the problem, show him a really good time. Sunghoon wouldn’t admit this out loud, but lately him and Raya’s sex life has been lacking, they both work a lot, and usually when she comes home she’s too tired to perform.

He can’t even count how many jerk off sessions he’s had in the shower lately, just like now, the warm water dripping down his body as he pumps his cock at a slow pace. He thinks about the last time him and Raya were intimate, he took her out for a romantic dinner date, and it ended with him plowing into her from behind.

He remembers good she felt that night, her tightness and warmth squeezing his cock. He cursed under his breath, picking up his pace as he lets his imagination run wild. Sunghoon tried his hardest not to think about you while he pumped his cock furiously, but the image popped in his head out of nowhere, your exposed legs, your plump asscheeks hanging out those little ass shorts.

“Ah fuck, S-shit so fucking hot” He groaned, smearing the sticky pre cum from his dripping slit, using it as a natural lube. He could feel himself getting dangerously close, as he fantasies about how much tighter and freakier you must be than your sister. He imagines how you would probably swallow all his cum, something Raya doesn’t do because she hates the taste of it, or how you would probably let him pull your hair and treat you like the slut you are.

“Fuck fuck fuck, I’m gonna cum, I’m gonna cum for you” He panted like a dog, his stomach tightened, and his cock twitched uncontrollably as he shoot thick spurts of white cum all over the shower tile walls. His body felt so weak and spent, as he leaned against the wall, chest heaving up and down from his very intense orgasm, he thinks that’s the hardest he’s ever came from masturbation.

Little does he know, in the next room you also touched yourself to the thought of him, squirting all over your sheets….

//

The next morning you woke up to the delicious smell of pancakes, eggs, and bacon being cooked. You did your morning stretch, hopping out of your bed, and making your way to the dining room. Raya was preparing breakfast, her apron wrapped around her body, you let out a little yawn taking a seat at the dining table.

“Rise and shine sleepyhead, how’d you sleep last night?” Raya inquired, as she scrambled eggs in the pan. You yawned once again, your hair was up in a messy bun, and your body felt weak from the multiple orgasms you gave yourself last night

“I slept well, what time did you get home last night, you didn’t come say hi to me big head” smacked your teeth, rolling your eyes at her playfully.

“Girl I didn’t get home till midnight, and you were already asleep, so don’t do that” She pointed the spatula at you, playing like she we gonna hit you with it. You both continue to bicker, Sunghoon came out of the room, rubbing his sleepy eyes and yawning. He glanced over in your direction before walking into the kitchen, and bringing Raya in for a hug and a kiss.

“Good morning beautiful, breakfast smells fantastic as always” He smiled lovingly at her, pecking her lips with a soft kiss. You tasted the bitter taste on your tongue, as you watched their loving and intimate interaction. You couldn’t help but feel annoyed at their bond they share, they both were so in sync with each other.

You couldn’t stand to watch them at like a lovey dovey couple, you had lost your appetite anyways. You stood up from the table a little hostile, as you started to make your way back to your room.

“I’m gonna skip breakfast, don’t wanna be late for class” You said with a tinge of annoyance, your eyes glanced at Sunghoon for a moment, before you went back into your room. Sunghoon could sense you were annoyed, but he didn’t know why, did he do something wrong, did you hear him last night in the shower?

“Don’t worry about her, she’s always been like this, sudden mood swings” Raya assured him, kissing him softly on his cheek, before going back to cooking.

//

It’s the end of the day, and you just finished all of your classes for today. Your friends asked if you wanted to go out with them tonight, and at first you weren’t going to go but you thought what the hell, might as well. The club was packed, sweaty bodies all over the place, and music blasting loud out of the speakers. You were having a great time, and it felt so good not to worry about coming home late tonight, or your parents nagging at you.

You were dancing with this guy now, he was handsome, average height and good with his words. You were tipsy, the liquor invading your system, as you rolled your body to the music. The guy whispered in your ear, asking if you wanted to get out of here, and of course you agreed, it’s been a while since you’ve had a good fuck.

You figured no one would be home, being that Raya and Sunghoon were both working. You and the guy which you don’t know by name, barely got into the apartment before your lips were on each other and hands touching each other’s body. You moaned into his mouth, as you both fell onto the couch, your lips smacking together hungrily.

What you didn’t know is that Sunghoon left early from work today, he wasn’t feeling all too well, so he decided he would come home early to rest. He was currently laying down In bed, when he heard the front door open, he figured it was Raya, since she usually got out of work at the this time. But he stopped in his tracks when he heard your voice, but not only your voice but the sound of a males voice as well.

His ears perk up, and he feels his heart pounding, as he listens to your moans and the gentleman’s groans that sounds throughout the apartment, he slowly got out of bed and cracked open the door. Nothing could have prepared him for the sinful sight he was seeing right now, you were on top of the guy, your body rocking back and forth, as you rode him like a pornstar.

Sunghoon’s eyes widened, swallowing hard as he held his breath not to make a sound, he knew he shouldn’t be watching you get fucked right now, it was creepy and total privacy invasion. But it’s like he was paralyzed, he couldn’t move from the spot at the door, as he watch you throw your head back in pleasure, your naked body on full display.

It’s like you sensed his presence, your eyes suddenly locking with his. His heart dropped when he realized you were staring back him, but your movements didn’t halt instead you continue to stare into his eyes as you rode another man’s dick, imagining it was Sunghoon’s dick instead.

You smirked mischievously at him, before winking at him, directing your attention back to the nameless man. Sunghoon finally came back to his senses, shutting the door quietly, he couldn’t believe what just happened and what the fuck he just witnessed.

//

The next morning Sunghoon woke up feeling like shit, his head felt heavy and his throat was killing him. He struggled to get out of bed, his body aching as he walked out of his bedroom to the kitchen. The house was quiet, meaning that nobody was home, he figured you were at school and of course Raya was at work. He was off today, so he decided he would have a lazy day, and just lounge around on the couch all day.

He was currently watching some random true crime documentary, when suddenly his phone pinged with a notification. He smiled to himself, thinking that it Raya checking up on him as he checked his messages. He frowned confused at the number that wasn’t saved in contacts, he hesitated to open the message being that he usually ignored unknown callers and messages.

He opened up the message and his jaw dropped, it was a picture of you standing in front of a dressing room mirror, clad in a pink lingerie set, the color bringing out your skin tone. The set hid little to nothing, the sheer see through fabric showing off the swell of your breast and ass. He quickly put his phone down, as if someone was going to appear out of nowhere and judge him.

*𝐀𝐭𝐭𝐚𝐜𝐡𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐬𝐞𝐧𝐭*

𝐘𝐨𝐮: Do you think this color looks good on me hoonie? 😘

He now stared at the message blankly, he didn’t know if he should just leave you on seen, and mention nothing about it. Or if he should confront you, and let you know that what you were doing was not appropriate and disrespectful to him and your sister’s relationship.

𝐒𝐮𝐧𝐠𝐡𝐨𝐨𝐧😍: Y/n stop what you’re doing, this is very inappropriate….

𝐘𝐨𝐮: How am I being inappropriate? Just wanted your opinion on my outfit hoonie that’s all😌

𝐒𝐮𝐧𝐠𝐡𝐨𝐨𝐧😍: You’re literally half naked in the picture Y/n, that’s not something you just send to your Sister’s boyfriend.

You: But don’t I look pretty tho🫶🏽?

𝐒𝐮𝐧𝐠𝐡𝐨𝐨𝐧😍: Y/n! Please stop.

You: Oh please Sunghoon, don’t give me that shit I know you like it🙄, I see the way you look at me when Raya isn’t looking, just like last night when you shamelessly watched me get fucked hard by some random guy. Bet you wished that was you huh?🤭

𝐒𝐮𝐧𝐠𝐡𝐨𝐨𝐧😍: Y/n…..

𝐘𝐨𝐮: Bet you’re hard as rock right now from looking at my picture, bet you wish you could be deep inside me right now😏

Sunghoon😍: ….

𝐘𝐨𝐮: Cat got your tongue? Bc you know I’m right, let’s face it hoonie you wanna fuck me and I wanna fuck you too. Let’s cut the shit and stop pretending🙄

Sunghoon😍: Fuck you drive me insane yk that?😩

𝐘𝐨𝐮: Do I baby? Do I make you wanna do bad things?😏

Sunghoon😍: Yeah…. really bad things😅

𝐘𝐨𝐮: Why don’t you act on it baby, why make it hard for yourself?🤭

𝐒𝐮𝐧𝐠𝐡𝐨𝐨𝐧😍: Bc it’s not right…🤦‍♂️

𝐘𝐨𝐮: Could be our little secret, promise she would never know😉

𝐒𝐮𝐧𝐠𝐡𝐨𝐨𝐧😍: Idk Y/n🤦‍♂️

𝐘𝐨𝐮: Ugh you’re annoying🙄, hmu when you’re ready to come fuck this, promise I’ll change your life Park Sunghoon😉

//

It was later on in the day, and you finally got home from shopping all day with your friends. When you walked in the door, you were met with the nerve wracking sight of Raya and Sunghoon, lounging on the couch as they watched some movie together all cuddled up. You fought the urge to roll your eyes, mentally cursing them out in your mind. Sunghoon glanced at you, his ears turning red as he remembers the conversation you two had earlier.

You winked at him, before making your way to room, but before you could get halfway your sister called out to you.

“Hey your plate is in the microwave if you’re hungry” She said, snuggling her face into Sunghoon’s neck and leaving small kisses on it. You watched her actions with bitterness, responding back with just a kay before glaring at them one more time before you finally went into your room and shut the door.

You were binge watching scream movies, stuffing buttery popcorn in your mouth, as you were so engrossed into the tv. You grabbed the remote, turning the volume down lower, you thought you heard someone screaming and it definitely wasn’t coming from your tv. You listened again, and this you heard it more clearer, the moans coming your sister’s room.

You felt your blood boiling, your heart rate picking up, your eye twitching, as you listened to the pleasure sounds they were making. You scoffed annoyed, turning your tv on full blast and going back to watching your movie, popcorn abandoned because you’ve officially lost your appetite.

Sunghoon looked over at Raya’s naked sleeping figure, smiling at her lovingly as she sleeps peacefully. They had just had sex, and by the 2nd round he had put her to sleep. His throat felt dry and parched, so he hopped out of bed to grab a glass of water. It was 1 in the morning, and Sunghoon figured you would be sleep by now, so he didn’t bother to put his pants back on, his top bare with just his boxers on.

He opened the fridge, grabbing the glass pitcher and pouring himself a very needed glass of water. He chugged the clear liquid down, letting out a small “Ah” as he placed the cup on the counter. Suddenly your room door opened, and he panicked, trying to hurry his way into his room, but you quickly stopped him.

“Did you enjoy it? You said straightforward, grabbing a glass and pouring yourself some water as well.

“What?” Sunghoon said confused, you turned to look at him, your expression unreadable but also challenging at the same time.

“The sex, did you enjoy fucking her” You said in a bitter tone, taking a small sip of your water, as you glared at him. Sunghoon sighed, running his hands through his hair.

“Of course I did, why wouldn’t I?” He said in defense, frowning at your sudden questions about him and your sister’s sex life. You chuckled sarcastically, smirking knowingly, as you made your way over to where he was standing.

“You know, I could do so much better than her, perform so much better than her, go more rounds than her, I’ll let you hit it all night until you get tired bae” You said seductively, running your long acrylics down his tone chest, causing a chill to run down his spine. He swallowed hard looking away from you, as you looked up at him, wanting no fuck that more like craving for a reaction out of him.

“Y/n come on, we can’t do this, it’s not the right thing to do” He said, his voice shaky as your hands roam his body, slowly inching down until you got to his v line. His breath hitched when you squeezes and massaged that area, he felt dick starting to twitch inside his boxers.

“Who said it has to be? In fact who gives a flying fuck, I want you hoonie so bad, I get so wet when I think about you when I’m all alone in my room, touching my pretty pussy to the thought of you” You purr, starting to leave little kisses on his abs and chest. Sunghoon slowly felt his willpower shutting down, as the softness of your plump lips on his skin was already so addicting, and the image of you playing with your pussy as you imagined it was his fingers instead turned him on like crazy.

He finally gave in, as he pulled you by the waist, smashing his lips onto yours, as he kissed you with hunger and fervor. Sunghoon moaned in your mouth, your lips were so fucking soft and taste so sweet, he was already addicted to kissing you. He picked you up, placing your body on the counter, as continued to kiss you, gripping on your ass in the process. You moaned into his mouth, wrapping your arms around your neck, as you slid your tongue inside his mouth.

You two finally pulled away from the kiss, both panting and staring into each other’s eyes. He started to kiss you on your neck, his kisses trailing all the way down to your boob. He gently bit and sucked at the fatty flesh, causing you to let out a soft pleasured moan. Suddenly the sound of the room door popped open, and Sunghoon quickly moved away from you, running inside the laundry room to hide.

You quickly got off the counter, as adjusted your straps that had fallen down on your tank top. Raya came around the corner, rubbing her eyes that was still heavy was sleep, as her eyes slowly adjusted to the light. She gave you a weak smile, before grabbing a glass and pouring her some water.

“What are you doing still up?” She asked, taking a big sip of her water and leaning on the counter. You cleared your throat, before answering her question, trying not to make it obvious you were just eating her boyfriend’s face off.

“Can’t sleep, so I thought I’d just grab a snack” You nodded, grabbing your glass and drinking the rest of your water.

“Oh okay, well I’m going back to bed, night” She said, still half asleep. You waved her off and told her good night.

“You can come out now, you whispered yell at Sunghoon from outside the laundry room door. He slowly opened the door and stepped out of it, you grabbed him again kissing his lips one more time before you made your way back to your room, not forgetting to sway your hips back and forth seductively.

Sunghoon bit his lip, watching you walk away, leaving him wanting more and a throbbing ache between his legs, he was in too deep now….

//

The next morning you woke feeling giddy, you could still feel Sunghoon’s lips and hand on your body, replaying last night’s encounter over and over in your head. You’ve finally gotten a a little taste of him, fuck you wanted so much more, you wanted to feel him so deep inside you, you want to feel his weight on you as he makes you take what he gives you. You know you should feel like a bitch, lusting after your older sister’s boyfriend behind her back.

And you’ve tried to feel bad, you’ve tried to tell yourself that what you were doing was nothing but sinful. But you want him, you want him so bad that you’re willing to risk fucking up your relationship with your sister and losing her respect for you as a sister forever. You were determined to have Sunghoon inside of you tonight, you just have to have him and nobody is going to stop you from having him.

It was now the evening time, and Raya was still at work as usual, but Sunghoon was getting off of work soon. You were planning something very special tonight, you cooked him a nice home cooked meal, did your hair and makeup, plus you did end up buying that pink lingerie set and you couldn’t wait for him to see it on you in person.

Your ears perked up, and you smiled excitedly once you heard the sound of the key twisting the lock. The front door opened and there was Sunghoon, dressed professionally in a black suit, his sleeves rolled up and his hair was gelled back. You could feel yourself getting wet already, fuck he was so fucking sexy. Sunghoon looked at you wide eyed, not expecting you to be home yet and plus you cooked.

“Hey hoonie, how was work” You said flirtatiously, as you leaned against the counter, shamelessly staring at his physique in that suit, the suit perfectly outlined his slim waist.

“Oh hey Y/n, didn’t think you would be home yet” He gave you a friendly grin, taking off his shoes at the door, and dropping his bag on the couch, ugh he is such a man you thought.

“ i didn’t have classes today, are you hungry? I made you some dinner” You smiled, placing his plate on the table and pulling out a chair for him. Sunghoon looked at confused, raising his eyebrow at your actions.

“For me? Y-you cooked for me?” He stuttered, walking over to the table and looking at the dish on the plate, it was a pasta with shrimp and sausage in it, and it honestly looked fucking divine. He hadn’t eaten all day and he was currently starving like crazy.

“Yes I did, thought we could have dinner together, is that a problem or something” You looked him up and down, he quickly shook his head no, taking a seat at the dinner table.

“Of course not, just a little unexpected, didn’t know you could cook like this” He said, picking up the fork and tasting the pasta, humming at savory creamy taste, it tasted phenomenal.

“There’s a lot of things you don’t know I could do hoonie, but I’m gonna show you tonight” Yoj said seductively, coming from behind him and rubbing and massaging his shoulders. He tensed up at your sudden actions, halting his movements of the fork. You leaned down and started whispering naughty things in his ear, biting at the shell of his ear.

He fought back a moan, as you started to kiss on his neck, licking on his skin. Sunghoon got up from the chair, and suddenly picked you up off your feet, causing you to yelp and let a little giggle at his sudden motives. He didn’t even care to look at what room he was walking into, as he laid you on the bed, his body on top of you as he kisses you just like the previous night.

You both moan into each other’s mouth, wrapping your arms around his neck, as you pulled him closer to you.

“Fuck you don’t know how bad I been holding back baby, but goddamnit I just can’t hold back anymore” He said breathless, kissing all over your chest and neck. You moaned softly, gripping the sheets, you needed him so badly.

“Then don’t, I want you Sunghoon, give it to me” You whined, pulling him back down to your lips, the kiss messy and intense. You could feel his heavy erection poking your thigh, and you couldn’t help but moan out loud, he feels so big.

“Let me take care of you hoonie, let me suck your cock” You said out of breath, Sunghoon nodded, stranding up from the bed. You quickly got up and pushed him on the bed, trading places with him as you dropped to your knees. You stared into his eyes as you unbuckled his slacks, throwing his belt to the side of the room. He helped you rid him of his bottoms, lifting his body from the bed.

You were now face to face with his hard cock, standing proudly, as precum leaked from the tip. You grabbed his shaft, he let out a deep groan when you came in contact with his cock, already feeling overwhelmed from the mere feeling of you holding his cock in your hands

“Fuck, your cock is big daddy, can’t wait for you to stuff me full of it” You moaned, starting to leave kitten licks on his tip. His body jolted forward, as he gripped the sheets tightly, his hips bucking up on their own. You smirked, now sucking on the tip, as you looked deep into his lust filled eyes.

“F-fuck Y/n, shit that feels so g-good ugh” He grunted, his hand going to hold your head in place but not pushing. You started to bob your head, stroking what you couldn’t fit in your mouth, his throbbing dick constantly leaking precum inside your mouth.

“Shittt that’s it baby, take me deeper slut, since you been bagging to eat my dick, you gotta do it the right way” He smirked, his once shy and retrained self, now gone and replaced with his most dominant character. He grabbed ahold of your face, now fucking your mouth as you deep throat his cock. You gagged around his dick, causing him groan deeply, as he continues to use your mouth for his pleasure.

“Such a desperate slut, fucking throwing yourself at me like the shameless whore you are. Is that what you are? Are you a shameless whore?” You moaned around his cock, your panties were now soaked with your arousal, the fabric now transparent. He yanked you by your head, forcing you to look into his eyes, drool dripping from the sides of your mouth.

“Answer me bitch” He spat, gripping your face roughly, you moaned at the rough treatment, you loved when guys treated you like a rag doll.

“Yes daddy! I’m a shameless whore, I’m your shameless whore” You whined as he shoved his cock back down your throat, abusing your throat and fucking your mouth like a pussy. You could tell he was close to cumming, his cock twitching like crazy and his movements getting sloppy.

“Fuck baby I’m gonna cum, you gonna be a good little slut and take daddy’s cum down your throat?” He whined, not being able to hold back, shooting his load inside your mouth. He panted, his chest heaving up and down, as came down from his intense high. You swallowed all what he had to offer,sticking your tongue out and showing him.

He groaned at that, wiping the excess cum that’s on the corner of your mouth. You stripped out of your clothes, and so did Sunghoon, going back to kissing him passionately.

“Fuck I need you so bad hoonie” You whined desperately, pulling his body back down on the bed with you. He started to lick on your tits, sucking on your brown erect nipples. He started to rub your wet pussy, rubbing little circles around your clit. He slid his finger inside your pussy, licking and sucking on your pussy, as finger fucked your pussy at a fast pace.

It didn’t take you long to cum, your pussy squirting your essence everywhere on the sheets and his hands.

“You ready for me to fuck this slutty pussy baby, I’m gonna fuck you so hard, gonna take all my frustrations out on you for teasing me for so long” He moaned loudly, sliding inside your tight pussy. You let out a pained moan at the big stretch, his thick cock filling you up to the hilt, your pussy clenching hard around his dick.

“Fuuuck, tight fucking pussy, knew this pussy would be so good” He grunted, fucking into you deeply, you screamed out loud, as you clawed at his back, he was fucking you hard in missionary, remaining eye contact with you, as he destroyed your pussy.

“Oh shit! Oh fuck daddy you’re so fucking deep ugh too fucking deep” You cried out, your legs were dangling on his shoulders, as he fucked into you roughly. You felt you were being split in half, his big cock fucking your cervix.

“Shut up whore, you begged for me to fuck this tight wet cunt, so you’re going lay here like a good girl and get fucked hard” He grunted, fucking you so deeply into the mattress, the bed was creaking so loud that you’re pretty sure if Raya was to come home right now, she would know exactly what was going on in her bedroom.

“Oh my god hoonie, you feel so good, oh god you feel so good deep inside my pussy” You whined, clawing at his back again, as he hit that spot inside your gummy walls that make you feel all fuzzy.

“Yeah you like that baby, you like the way I’m beating this pussy up, so fucking wet and tight for me such a good fucking girl” He whined, plowing into your heat like it’s no tomorrow. You could feel the band your stomach getting ready to snap, that familiar tingling feeling in your stomach returning.

“Fuck daddy, I’m gonna cum, I’m gonna cum all over your cock” You screamed to top of your lungs, as you came hard around his dick, squirting and creaming all over him. He followed right behind you, letting out a guttural groan, as he painted your insides white. He collapsed on top of you, his body limp and spent, as he tried to catch his breath. You held onto him, your body feeling numb from ear ringing orgasm you just had.

You both laid there in silence, your heavy breathing was the only noise In the quiet room.

“𝐈 𝐝𝐨𝐧’𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐤 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐰𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐛𝐞 𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐨𝐧𝐥𝐲 𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞 𝐝𝐨𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬” Sunghoon said, looking deep into your eyes.

“𝐆𝐨𝐨𝐝, 𝐝𝐢𝐝𝐧’𝐭 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐧 𝐨𝐧 𝐢𝐭” You smiled mischievously.

The End….

A/n 😵‍💫 I’m so sorry this was so long, I kinda got carried away 😅 but omh yall y/n is such a menace like gurl!! But this was so hot plsss🤧🤧 pls don’t read if this plot makes you feel uncomfortable! Reblogs and feedback is greatly appreciated🫶🏽 I didn’t proof read home girl😭

—————————————————————————

Taglist:

@i03jae @ataver @ancnymcnzjy @kolawnk @yunlazia @riqomi if I didn’t tag you, it means I couldn’t 😭

[checkeredflagggs]

Febuwhump Day 14: Becoming the Monster

pairings: gen

summary: a story about y/n, Redbull’s new second driver, told in non-sequential order

a/n: I love febuwhump and have participated before for other fandoms but this is a first for me — attempting to compete it via smau only. Hopefully I can write a complete story eventually and I will be posting it on its own masterlist in the correct order to read but it’ll be written based on the febuwhump prompt list! @febuwhump

a/n2: based on the 2024 year; sorry checo but you got replaced earlier!

a/n3: listen I like Lando but I needed a villian here

Masterlist | Taglist

y/n_gossip

liked by user, user, and 1,836,622 others

tagged: y/n_rb, landonorris

y/n_gossip: it seems like little Lando Norris might be thinking of a matador career — he keeps tempting the bulls! After a few close calls with Verstappen, Norris and L/N collided resulting in a DNF for our girl with some pretty harsh words coming from both of their radios afterwards.

view all comments

user1: this is what racing is!

↳user2: I know — I was on the edge of my seat…

user3: pretty harsh?? Girl sounded like she was gonna run him down on foot and take him out

↳user4: lol did you see the rb team after she got back to the garage?

↳user5: they literally just picked her up and moved her away from the reporters 😂😂

user6: oh the post race interviews are gonna slap

↳user7: I can’t wait!

user8: that’s so completely unfair! y/n was ahead at the apex — Lando should have given it away, not crashed into her

↳user9: seriously?? Where on earth did you get that information??

↳user8: uhh by watching the screen??

user10: oh shit….

↳user11: Lando’s post interview??

↳user10: how dare he say something like that???

f1gossip

liked by user, user, and 1,457,987 others

Transcript:

interviewer: and what are your thoughts on y/n and your collision today?

Lando: obviously not ideal. You know you never want to be in a collision- especially when it’s not your fault. Y/N…she should spend less time with Max, don’t need her becoming another monster, ya know…

f1gossip: what an interview! During his post race interview for Austria 2024, where he was forced to dnf after two different collisions with both Redbulls, Norris didn’t hold back his thoughts. During this brief moment, he talked about the close friendship between this year’s Redbull drivers — saying that y/n (a rookie) should take a step back from her more senior teammate because no one “[needed] her becoming another monster,”. He also went on to say that he was losing respect for Verstappen and the way he raced.

view all comments

user12: did he really just fucking say that?

↳user13: oh my god he did

↳user14: it’s even worse when you actually watch it because you can just barely see max next to him — when Norris said this, both max and the interviewer froze

↳user13: i mean i would too. That’s a really harsh thing to say about someone

user15: people want cunty f1 back again but can’t handle this little spat??

↳user16: cunty? Yes. Whatever this was? Absolutely not

user17: he’s just salty she’s better then him

↳user18: how do you figure that??

↳user17: she literally won her very first f1 race? He’s been racing for years and only just won his first this year

↳user18: it doesn’t count really. Everyone knows that redbull cheats

↳user17: oh my god just shut up

user20: i feel bad for y/n…it really wasn’t her fault nor did it affect lando too much but he’s (someone she’s said she looks up too before) putting her on blast with some pretty harsh words…

↳user21: she looks up to him??

↳user20: yeah! She’s said multiple times that she really admires how open he is talking about his mental health and that she really wanted to emulate him

↳user21: oh ouch…then today and that interview has got to hurt…

user22: anyone else interested in what she’s gonna do to retaliate?

↳user23: 🙋🏾‍♀️🙋🏾‍♀️

Private Messages, Max and y/n

Taglist

@anamiad00msday @suns3treading @daniskywalkersolo @awritingtree @justheretoreadthxxs @coral7161 @lost4lyrics @mastermindbaby @freyathehuntress @angelluv16 @nichmeddar @mxm47max @justaf1girl @a-beaverhausen @tallrock35 @elizamoe133 @imlonelydontsendhelp @jessica3478 @il0vereadingstuff @msimpala-67

[taliabhattwrites]

Here's a mini-version so I can go back to Sifu.

A lot of people have voiced confusion at the backlash against characters like Bridget being depicted as textually transfem, or the general drive to refuse to name the transfeminine body as a woman's body in erotic media. While my transhet friends have talked to me at length about how cis queer men's transmisogyny does manifest in this kind of degendering--and how they rationalize it by considering transition a sort of 'betrayal' of their community, as though trans women were simply trying to transition to greener pastures--I hope it's obvious to everyone that gay men alone cannot sustain this kind of pervasive cultural attitude. Especially when homophobia and transmisogyny are coterminous in patriarchal societies.

So why do men, in general, and even people of genders beyond 'man', insist on third-sexing the transfeminine body? Wouldn't it be preferable, more stable for a straight man and his identity to consume the eroticized transfem as a woman?

Well, if you don't have time to read the 10,000-word article I just linked--though you should, I worked quite hard on it--the shortest version possible I can give you is that the sexual consumption of third-sexed populations by men doesn't destabilize their gender or sexuality as much as you might think. Patriarchy has always had "fail-states", the faggotized, degendered, un-manned subject that cannot be allowed to consider itself a Woman, but is definitely something Lesser than a full-fledged Man.

Given that modern sexual mores are no less centered around penetration than they were in Roman times, men can freely engage in that form of intercourse with the third-sexed, transfeminized woman without having to name her as a woman, and without that being disruptive to his place in the gender heirarchy.

Once you understand that, you realize what the value of the transfeminized sexual object is to a man that wishes to use her as such. The un-womaned transfem is abject, highly precarious, vulnerable, disposable, a dehumanized creature whose entire purpose has been reduced to taking it, whether we mean "sex" or "violence" (and oftentimes, both). She has value in her utter devaluation, in her reduction to a place below the respectable, marriageable Woman that can be taken home, introduced to the parents, and exploited for reproductive labor. The third-sexed, degendered transfem is the Platonic ideal of a fuckable object that can be discarded.

And while some of you might be tempted to kinkpost about that, when we're not horny and are trying to navigate through the world as people, being seen in that way constantly is a very, very bad thing. It's what gets us hurled out of society and locked out of the formal economy, left to subsist or perish on the margins as we are able.

So people are very attached to the idea that their favorite porn category is just that--a 'shemale', a 'futa', a 'dickgirl', an 'otokonoko', a 'ladyboy'--any dehumanizing, degendering term that renders her neither man nor woman, but purely a sexual fantasy. The idea that this sex toy they wish to use could actually be considered a person, a woman, or even a trans woman, that horrid, 'woke', 'political' individual with multicolored hair and multivariate pronouns, feels existentially threatening.

"What do you mean, I've been fantasizing about exploiting a person this entire time? Fuck you!"

Anyway, this little piece has focused exclusively on men's relationship to transfemininity. Do people of other genders have similarly exploitative relationships to us, and a consequent desire to third-sex us?

In a word, yes, but you might have to wait for me to write more essays before I go into it. So look out for those in the future. Quick disclaimers: I've focused this writing on why transfeminine abjection is attractive to those who wish to consume us, but please do not misconstrue this me as saying that cis women are always considered 'people' or 'respectable' under patriarchy--this is very much not the case. I'm simply discussing this as a matter of degrees, where the transfem is more easily and utterly dehumanized due to her being constructed as both failed man, unable to sire, and failed woman, unable to gestate.

Furthermore, entire classes of cis women are also often reduced to this kind of degendered, exploitable state. Degendering is a broader force that is core to transmisogyny, but is not the entirety of transmisogyny, and more women than merely trans women are degendered.

Okay, NOW back to Sifu.

trap hentai now blatantly shows their "boys" with obvious hrt titties but still calls them boys whats up with that. back in my day they they were flat chested but now its "draw a trans woman and misgender her"

[vandal-flower]

Timeless Pining

Rin Itoshi x Reader.

Bring Your Plus One Event

Invitation Details: Rin Itoshi, is currently being flamed by the press for being #foreversingle. How to solve this, by inviting you, his childhood friend. Will the press get off his back, and will his friendship with you stay the same?

Warnings: Jealous Rin, Beef with Sae and Shidou. Sae and Shidou are besties.

"ITOSHI RIN FROM THE BLUE LOCK 11 HAS BEEN DECLARED TO BE #FOREVERSINGLE BY FANS"

Out of all the things Rin could have been accused for, this has to be the worst by far.

#RINWILLBEFOVEVERSINGLE.

It doesn't help that he has been compared to his brother and the intolerable Ryusei Shidou in the comment section.

saeitoshiontop < "I've seen Sae with more women than this man. Sae has only been seen with three so far, and one of them was his mom. 😶"

finaldae55 < "Don't tell me Shidou has more game than him 😭😭🤚"

myonlinefued12 < "Somebody get this man a girlfriend."

Someone replied < "I shall volunteer 🙋‍♀️"

Another replied < "Goodluck."

As much as he could ignore it, it did not help the fact that he was being deemed as the worst potential boyfriend, and an even worse potential husband in the soccer world.

And to be compared to his worst-excuse of an older brother, and the pink radioactive cockroach. Unacceptable.

Driven by his need for vengeance, he messages the one person who he trusts outside of the field.

Rin smiled to himself. His plan is sure to set in motion. Inviting someone like you will put everyone in their place regarding his relationship status and his ability to get a lover.

This might also be an opportunity to one up both his brother and the pink radioactive cockroach.

Rin was driving the car as you were getting dressed in the backseat. As promised, he got you a free outfit. It's amazing how he got all your measurements sizes as it fitted you well.

"Had I not known better Rinnie, I would have declined your offer and stayed home.", you joked, putting on your shoes.

"And watch my name go through the mud. Not a chance.", he gripped on the steering wheel as his mouth tasted bitter. "You don't like the thought of Shidou having more game than you?", you asked.

Had it not been for the fact he was on the road, he would have lunged at you. But since he cares for you so much and has self-respect, he doesn't.

"I hope you stumble and fall."

"I hope you catch me as I fall."

What was he going to do with you...

The paparazzi swarmed the both sides of the building, like it was a red carpet event. Cameras flashing as each vehicle carrying the invited guest and their plus one.

As Rin existed the driver's seat, he was approached by a familiar pest in his life.

"Well, well, well, if it isn't Rinrin. Hashtag, Mister Forever single.", a devilish smile was etched across Shidou's face, "it's a surprise you actually came, I'd be embarrassed if I were you."

Rin didn't attempt to hide his scowl, but instead went to the backseat of the car. Opening the door, he took your hand and brought you out. Giving the keys to someone nearby, then interlocking your arm with his, walking past a baffled Shidou.

For a moment the paparazzi went quiet, before the flashing of cameras grew louder along with the commentators.

Rin couldn't help, but smile to himself. Putting Shidou in his place felt better than he thought, and the proud feeling in his chest was evident of that. He won't admit that you accompanying him also contributed to this.

You winced with all the flashing, and without wasting a moment, Rin placed his hand over your eyes. "I'll guide you into the building, just trust me." And without any thought, you do as you are told.

Shidou smirked. He looked back at Rin and you, "What a lovely couple, wonder if it's genuine?"

Rin kept to his promise, unlike his older brother. You had very little to worry about while at the party, other than the looks from Shidou, all is well.

"I didn't expect you to show face Rin.", snapping out of his thoughts he looks behind him. There stood the world's best midfielder. The Sae Itoshi. He couldn't ignore the feeling in his stomach, whether it was anxiety or anger, he didn't know. He just didn't want him of all people to be here.

Rin glares at his brother, before turning away. He is better than this, he reminds himself. Taking note of his silence, Sae continues. "I see you brought (Name), good choice. Had I known better, I would have taken them for myself."

Rin snapped his neck back, the deadliest glare on his face. Anyone would have turned to dust if looks could kill, but Sae isn't just anyone. "If you want a piece of advice, tell them how you feel before the night ends. It the only good you'll do tonight after this stunt.", before Rin could say anything, Sae leaves, disappearing in the crowd.

Worried, Rin looks over to you. There you were, a smile across your face, directed to Shidou. As you laugh, Shidou looks over to Rin, and smiles. In a daze, he walks up to you and leaves while holding your hand, dragging you outside f the building.

"Hey, what's wrong?", you whisper to him. His brother's words echoed in his head and the smile on Shidou's face could not erase itself from his mind. Taken you for himself? Not a chance.

You were one of the only people Rin could trust in his social circle, and he won't allow his brother, the demon, or anyone to take you away from him like that.

You stop what you're doing, and laugh to yourself, catching Rin off guard. "Shidou told me you would be jealous if I talked to him, and to think I didn't believe him. Not to mention Sae giving you 'the talk'."

He gave you a puzzled look before connecting the dots. It was all plan to get him to confess to you. Ever since childhood, he was protective of you, but never thought it as love, but instead as friendship. But now that he thinks about it...His brother was right.

"To be honest with you, I liked you since we were kids.", you began, leaning on the wall of the building. "Even with your tongue sticking out, I thought it kinda cute, but now I think it's kinda attractive.", you joked. Or at least you thought.

The redness of your cheeks and how you avoided his eyes betrayed you. Rin stared at you, surprised at your words. Reconsidering his brother's words, he fakes a cough to draw your attention to him. "I thought the way you introduced yourself to me the first time was odd, but I...liked it."

You perked up, "What else do you like?". He looked away, but the pink on his ears told you more than enough. You wrapped your arms around his waist pulling him closer, before burying your head in his back.

"And I thought I was pining for you all this time. Turns out you had the same feelings for me. Don't worry Rinnie-poo, I love you too."

"You're insufferable."

"You love it."

He sighs to himself, before looking back at you.

"Of course I do."

Here ya go! Saw the new official art, and had to get to work. HAPPY VALENTINES 💝 💓 💖 💗!

My inbox is open. Check out my Rules.

[startheskelaton]

so, how Nightflyer look in the bayverse? and how him and Sparkplug will fall in love for each other?

also, I love all versions of Sparkplug but. . . .

this diva has stoolen my heart!!! she' sooo pretty!!

Yeah so like…. In the bayverse… Nightflyer is hot rod

I just didn’t wanna touch the bayverse Starscream design, like…. I don’t know man, I love the triangle but not that much.

I feel like they meet in the last film, same that Hotrod was introduced in. I can image them having very quick chemistry, just Spark finding him rather charming and Hotrod getting to meet someone who doesn’t make fun of his accent. Bee and Cade definitely gets defensive of Sparkplug because that’s their little sister and step daughter respectively. I wanna do more bayverse stuff but the designs are so hard to draw

And yeah! That’s G1 Sparkplug! All the female designs look the same besides the color and helmet.

[bamgyuuuri]

⸝⸝ blue hydrangeas ┈ kth.

⸝⸝ IN a world where soulmates are tied by "soulblooms," flowers that manifest on the hand when touched by fate’s match, you have spent your life with an empty wrist and a guarded heart. but when a fleeting touch with taehyun—a boy you find insufferably perfect—awakens a blue hydrangea on your grasp, everything you thought you knew about fate, connection, and him, turned on its head.

pairings and tags. academicrival!taehyun x fem!reader . soulmate au. enemies to lovers . slowburn . grumpy x sunshine . forced proximity . slowburn . taehyun is a huge tease . tension !!!! not actually unrequited love? angst

word count. 29.7k

short note! it's finally here!!!! it was such an honor to work alongside such talented moas! i am beyond grateful to be part of something this special >< every moment spent working on this was filled with so much love and excitement, and i hope you all enjoy it as much as we did creating it!! <3

you hated kang taehyun with every fiber of your being.

there was something about him that irked you to your very core, something that made your teeth grit and your stomach twist every time you were forced to be near him.

it wasn't just his irritatingly perfect smile, or his perfect grades, or his constant ability to somehow do everything just a little bit better than you, no. it was something more insidious—something about how effortlessly he seemed to exist in a world where everything was perfectly aligned in his favor. he was always better, always one step ahead.

and it wasn’t just in the classroom either. taehyun's reach extended far beyond that, into places where you thought you had some semblance of control. in the student council, for example, where you held the position of vice president—a role you worked your ass off to attain—taehyun somehow made being the president look like a walk in the park.

with his easy charm and flawless leadership, he outshone you at every turn. it wasn’t that you didn’t have the capacity for leadership, you knew you were just as capable. more capable. but taehyun? he was like a magnet, drawing the attention of everyone in the room with a simple flash of his smile, a soft laugh that echoed off the walls of the council room.

you hated how easy he made it look.

every time you thought you had finally gained some ground, taehyun would be there. standing just a little bit taller, a little bit more poised—effortlessly securing the praise, the respect, the adoration. it was maddening.

you hated him.

and yet, it wasn’t just the ways he made you feel small, it was how he never let you hide it. how, no matter how obviously you displayed your contempt for him, he remained annoyingly unfazed, like he could see right through the walls you tried to build. he never flinched, never reacted in the way you expected. he’d simply laugh, his voice low and warm, as though everything you did to push him away was just a minor inconvenience.

the worst part? taehyun was nice to you. you could never understand it.

it was almost like he reveled in it—like he enjoyed seeing you fume in frustration. he would do things like open doors for you, something so simple and innocent, yet it felt like a taunt. he’d hold the door wide, with that stupid, gentle smile of his. he would always ask how you were, even though it felt like a question that was both too casual and too personal, as if he could sense the tension in your voice, the subtle crack in your facade whenever you answered him.

you hated how taehyun made you feel seen, how he seemed to know you better than anyone else, even though you barely let anyone in. he noticed the way you hesitated, the way your voice would shake when you pretended not to care. it was infuriating. you’d shove it all down, but he’d always come back for more, always patient, always gentle, like a relentless force pulling at the edges of your defenses.

you hated that no matter how many times you tried to push him away, he would be right back the next day, like nothing ever happened. you’d look away, stubborn and angry, trying to ignore the faint flutter in your chest when he smiled at you. his smile—always so warm, so effortless—made everything worse. because deep down, you knew you hated it... but you couldn’t look away.

before you could shove the thought away, before you could shake off the way his gaze lingered just a second too long, the static hum of the intercom crackled through the classroom, making you flinch.

“president and vice president of the student council, please report to the principal’s office.”

the words rang in your ears, a sudden disruption to the taut thread of your thoughts. you let out a slow breath, forcing your shoulders to relax, pushing down whatever unwanted feeling had started to creep in.

you turned on your heel without another glance in his direction, your steps measured and purposeful as you headed towards the door. the room buzzed faintly behind you, students murmuring about why the two of you were being called this time. probably another event to oversee, another responsibility stacked onto the ever-growing pile. 

but just as you reached the door, he moved ahead of you, stopping right at the threshold. his hand rested lightly against the frame as he turned back, expression as unreadable as ever—soft yet calculated, warm yet knowing.

“after you,” taehyun says smoothly, tilting his head ever so slightly.

your eyes flickered to him, lingering for only a second before you scoffed. of course. always so proper, so polite. always so perfectly composed.

“just go, kang.” your voice was clipped, your patience thinning at the edges.

but he didn’t budge. instead, a small chuckle escaped him, low and unhurried, like he found your irritation amusing. he remained still, waiting, that same infuriatingly gentle smile tugging at his lips.

for a moment, you considered pushing past him, ignoring his presence entirely. but something about the way he stood there—calm, unshaken, as if he had all the time in the world—made your skin prickle. unwilling to prolong the moment, you rolled your eyes and stepped through first, feeling the weight of taehyun’s gaze trailing behind you as he finally followed.

the hallway was quieter than usual, the usual rush of students dwindling between periods. your footsteps echoed faintly against the polished floors, the rhythmic tap of your shoes the only sound filling the space between you. for once, you wished it would stay that way.

but taehyun was never one to let silence settle for too long.

“you did well on the last presentation,” he said, his voice cutting through the quiet with an ease that made your fingers twitch.

you kept your gaze ahead, eyes fixed on the stretch of hallway before you. “so?”

taehyun hummed, slow and thoughtful. “the teachers were impressed. even the principal didn’t have anything to correct, which is rare.”

there was something in his tone—something easy yet deliberate. you weren’t sure if he was just making conversation or if he was testing you, seeing how long it would take before you snapped at him.

your fingers curled at your sides. “is that supposed to mean something?”

taehyun let out a soft chuckle, hands tucked casually into his pockets. “it means you’re good at what you do.”

you stole a glance at him from the corner of your eye, but his expression remained neutral, unreadable. there was no teasing lilt to his voice, no smugness in his words. just a simple statement, spoken like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

you looked away, exhaling through your nose. “obviously.”

taehyun laughs, a quiet, breathy sound that sent a shiver up your spine. “you’re awfully cute when you’re smug.”

your steps faltered—just barely, just for a second—before you snapped your head towards him with a sharp glare. “don’t say weird things.”

but he only smiled, eyes twinkling with something unreadable, something that made your stomach twist.

“it’s not weird if it’s true.”

your fingers twitched at your sides, a heat creeping up the back of your neck. you hated this. hated how easily he got under your skin, how effortlessly he chipped away at your walls like it was second nature to him. like he wasn’t even trying.

but more than anything, you hated that, despite everything, you never had it in you to stop him.

before you knew it, the office door was already looming ahead, its dark wooden surface polished to a near mirror-like shine, reflecting the dim glow of the hallway’s overhead lights. despite the countless times you had stood before it, waiting to be summoned inside for meetings, discussions, and the occasional reprimand over minor council disputes, it never failed to fill you with a familiar sense of dread. not because you feared the principal—he was reasonable enough—but because you knew that whatever awaited you beyond that door would inevitably mean more work, more responsibilities. more time spent in taehyun’s infuriating presence.

your fingers twitched at your sides, itching to get this over with. but before you could reach for the handle, taehyun was already moving, stepping forward with that effortless confidence that made your teeth grind. it was miniscule but it never fails to cause irritation to bubble up into your already wounded ego.

his knuckles met the wood in three firm, evenly spaced knocks—never too loud, never too soft. just right. of course.

then, without hesitation, he twisted the handle and pushed the door open. but instead of stepping through, he turned to you—that familiar, insufferably polite smile curving his lips.

“after you,” he says once again, his voice smooth, as if this wasn’t the hundredth time he’d done this.

your lips pressed into a thin, irritated line, and you felt the immediate, burning need to roll your eyes. instead, you inhaled sharply, resisting the urge to push past him just to spite him.

“stop doing that,” you muttered, stepping into the office without sparing him a glance.

behind you, taehyun let out a quiet chuckle, the sound low and warm, like he had been expecting your reaction all along. you could practically feel the amusement radiating off him as he followed you inside at an easy, unhurried pace, as if this was all some game to him.

the office was warm, the scent of freshly brewed coffee mingling with the faintest traces of old paper and polished wood. the large mahogany desk stood at the center, stacked neatly with files, reports, and what you assumed were upcoming event proposals.

behind the desk sat the principal, an older man with sharp, perceptive eyes that held a kindness just beneath their surface. his neatly pressed suit was accompanied by a tie that looked slightly askew, as if he had been rushing between meetings all morning. at the sight of you both, he offered a welcoming nod, his hands clasping together in front of him.

“ah, president,”  he greeted, his voice carrying that authoritative weight you had grown used to. “vice president,” somehow, the fact that he regarded you a little later adds another stack of reasons to be vexed as you remain in this room with not only him, but also the principal. “thank you for coming on such short notice.”

you returned the gesture with a curt nod, holding your hands behind your back in an attempt to brace yourself for whatever was about to be dropped onto your already full plate. beside you, taehyun dipped his head in acknowledgment, his posture effortlessly composed.

the principal didn’t waste time, leaning forward slightly as he rested his forearms on the desk. his sharp gaze flickered between the two of you, a knowing glint settling in his eyes.

“i’m sure you both know what time of year it is,” he began, his tone measured, expectant.

your brows furrowed slightly, the question lingering in the air for only a second before taehyun, ever the perfect student, filled the silence.

“the winter ball,” he supplied smoothly, the answer rolling off his tongue like second nature.

the principal’s lips curled into a satisfied smile. “precisely. it’s one of our school’s most anticipated events, and this year, we want it to be even more memorable than the last.” he gestured towards the neatly stacked files on his desk, his fingers tapping lightly against the topmost folder. “as always, we’re prepared to provide you with all the budget you need to bring it to life. however, the student council will be in charge of every aspect of the planning.”

your stomach twisted.

of course it was. as if the student council didn’t already have enough responsibilities—event coordination, student affairs, disciplinary oversight—now you had to organize the biggest event of the year on top of everything else. had it not been for your role and how you regaled yourself as orderly, you would have questioned if the school boards even did anything apart from providing budgetary funds. you held your tongue and kept yourself poised despite yourself.

swallowing the sigh that threatens to escape your lips, you focus on maintaining your total composure. breaking would be unnecessary and you knew better than to crack under pressure just because something began to grind your gears.

“understood,” taehyun said without missing a beat, his tone carrying that same unwavering confidence he always spoke with. “we’ll handle everything.”

your eyes snapped to him, barely concealing your incredulity. we? we weren’t the ones who would end up buried in logistical nightmares and last-minute disasters. you were. while taehyun would breeze through meetings with his stupid, easy charm, you’d be the one pulling late nights, making sure every detail was perfect.

but of course, he looked completely at ease, his expression betraying none of the stress you already felt settling onto your shoulders.

the principal nodded in approval, leaning back in his chair. “good. i expected nothing less.” he glanced between the two of you once more before offering a small, knowing smile. “i trust that the two of you, along with the rest of the council, will make this year’s ball unforgettable.”

as the meeting wrapped up, you and taehyun dipped into a synchronized bow, offering the principal a respectful farewell before turning towards the door. you moved first, your steps quick and eager to escape the weight of unadulterated expectations that had just been placed on your shoulders.

the moment you stepped out into the hallway and the door clicked shut behind you, the sigh you had been holding back finally slipped past your lips. it was long and heavy, filled with every ounce of exasperation you had swallowed down in that office.

taehyun must have noticed, because just as you were trying to compose yourself, you caught the slightest movement from the corner of your eye—his hand, lifting ever so slightly, as if to place a reassuring touch on your shoulder.

you moved away before he could.

your sharp glare met his gaze, and for a second, the air between you crackled with tension. his hand dropped back to his side, but the teasing curve of his lips remained.

“don’t,” you warned, voice flat.

taehyun let out a soft chuckle, utterly unbothered. “what? i was just going to tell you that you’re gonna do great.”

“oh, shut up,” you muttered, rubbing your temple as if that would somehow ease the headache forming at the thought of the endless planning ahead. “this is a lot of work. again. do they not realize how much we already do?”

taehyun hummed in thought, shoving his hands into the pockets of his blazer. “well, to be fair, the winter ball is a big deal. people look forward to it all year. it makes sense they want to go all out.”

“great. good for them,” you deadpanned. “meanwhile, i’ll be drowning in event proposals, budgeting spreadsheets, and people asking if we can add a ‘winter wonderland’ theme for the fourth time.”

taehyun chuckled, tilting his head slightly as he glanced at you. “you’re being dramatic.”

you shot him an exasperated look, one that should’ve been enough to burn through his unshakable confidence. should’ve been, but of course, this was kang taehyun you were dealing with—unfazed, infuriating, and always ready with some smooth remark that made your blood boil.

“oh, am i? am i really, kang?” you seethed, voice laced with frustration. “because guess who’s going to be stuck micromanaging everything while everyone else just throws out random ideas and disappears?”

taehyun blinked at you, the picture of innocence. “us?”

you let out a humorless laugh, shaking your head as you leveled him with a sharp glare. “me,” you corrected, jabbing a finger against your chest. “because you’ll probably just sit there smiling and nodding while i suffer.”

his laughter came easily, light and unhurried, like the idea of your impending misery was genuinely amusing to him. the corners of his eyes crinkled in that stupidly endearing way, and for a moment, you forgot what you were mad about.

“come on, give me some credit,” taehyun replies, and before you could take a step back, he nudged your arm playfully—so effortless, so natural, like touching you was just second nature to him. you recoiled instantly, pulling away before the warmth of his skin could linger against your jacket. “i help out a lot too. i mean, i am the president.”

“oh, please,” you scoffed, folding your arms over your chest like a barrier, like it would somehow protect you from his relentless confidence. “you showing up to meetings with an iced americano and nodding along to whatever’s being said is not helping.” taehyun’s grin widened, all sharp amusement, like he was enjoying this far more than he should. “hey, that’s unfair. sometimes i write stuff down.”

“you doodle.”

“art is important for brainstorming.”

you shot him a deadpan look. “so is actual brainstorming.”

but taehyun didn’t waver. his smile softened just a fraction, the teasing edge in his tone giving way to something quieter, something dangerously close to sincerity.

“i do mean it,” taehyun said, and this time, he didn’t laugh. didn’t flash that insufferable, knowing smirk. didn’t lace his words with teasing or smug amusement. instead, his voice came quieter, steadier—like an oath meant to be kept. “i’m not just going to let you do all the work. i’ll help, i promise.”

his words should have rolled right off you, should have been easy to dismiss like every other time he made empty assurances with that effortless confidence of his. but something about the way he said it—the way he looked at you—made you pause for just a fraction of a second too long.

you scoffed again, but the usual sharpness in your voice was missing, dulled by the unexpected sincerity lingering between you. “i know you,” you muttered, grasping for the familiar rhythm of irritation that kept you balanced around him. “you’ll just charm everyone into doing things for you while i handle the logistics.”

taehyun’s grin stretched wider, his eyes glinting with something dangerously playful—like you had just unknowingly handed him the perfect setup for a joke. “well, yeah,” he admitted with a casual shrug, the corners of his lips twitching. “that’s called teamwork.”

you groaned dramatically, tilting your head back, pressing your fingers against the bridge of your nose as if you could physically push away the headache he was undoubtedly going to give you. “you are so—”

“but,” he cut in smoothly, and there was something in his tone that made you drop your hand and actually look at him. he wasn’t done. “since you’re so convinced i’m just going to sit back and make you do everything, let me put it on record—i’ll be in charge of buying the decorations. i’ll help with booking the venue, the catering, and dealing with the faculty.”

your arms, which had been folded tightly against your chest, slackened just slightly.

“i’ll help set up, too,” taehyun continued easily, ticking things off on his fingers like he was reading off a checklist. “and—” he shot you a knowing glance, “—i’ll make sure no one dumps last-minute work on you like they always do.”

your mouth opened—whether to argue or to question him, you weren’t even sure—but nothing came out.

taehyun noticed. he always did.

“what?” he teased, leaning in slightly like he was studying your reaction up close. “shocked into silence? i should say sincere things more often.”

you snapped out of it, glaring as you stepped back. “i just didn’t expect you to actually think about any of this.”

“what, you think i don’t pay attention?” taehyun hummed, tilting his head. “i know you do all the heavy lifting every year. i know you always end up picking up the slack when people flake. and i know you’d rather pretend you don’t care than let anyone see you stressed about it.”

taehyun smiled, but it wasn’t smug this time. it was softer. easier. genuine.“so, yeah,” he said, as if his words hadn’t just shaken something loose inside you. “i’ll help. properly.”

you swallowed, forcing yourself to scoff, to keep your defenses up. “yeah, well,” you muttered, looking away. “you better.”

he chuckled, unfazed as always. “see? we’re making progress already.”

“i hate you.”

“no, you don’t,” he said, and the worst part was that he sounded like he knew it. ꒰💐꒱ the student council room buzzed with the quiet shuffle of papers and the faint hum of conversation as the members gathered around the long wooden table, settling into their seats. the late afternoon sunlight filtered in through the windows, casting elongated shadows across the polished surface.

you sat near the head of the table, arms crossed, posture composed, but your patience was already thinning before the meeting had even begun. beside you, taehyun leaned forward slightly, his usual composed expression unreadable as he flipped through a neatly organized binder—probably filled with notes and plans that he had somehow managed to put together in the few hours since you both left the principal’s office. you wondered if an actual job would be just as exhausting as this—but at least having work meant you were paid for all of this trouble.

the moment the last person took their seat, you cleared your throat, drawing everyone’s attention. “alright, let’s get this over with,” you said, ignoring the amused glance taehyun shot your way. “as you all know, the winter ball is coming up, and since the school is giving us the budget we need, it’s up to us to handle all the planning.”

taehyun, ever the composed leader, leaned forward with his arms resting against the table, scanning the three of you with his usual unreadable expression. “which means first things first,” he says, “we need a theme.”

a beat of silence followed, filled only by the distant chatter of students lingering in the hallways and the rhythmic ticking of the clock on the wall. then, with a loud thud, beomgyu—who had been balancing his chair precariously on two legs—let it drop back down, the abrupt sound making jiwon, the treasurer, flinch. he leaned forward, propping his elbow on the table and resting his chin on his palm, his eyes glinting with easy confidence. "what about… a black-and-white party?"

you blinked, eyebrows furrowing. “you mean… just two colors?”

"yeah," beomgyu confirmed, nonchalant. "like, everyone wears black or white. sleek. simple. no weird decorations." he shrugged as if he had just solved an age-old dilemma, clearly satisfied with himself. "it’ll be easy."

taehyun hummed, tapping the end of his pen against his notebook in thought. "it’s not bad, but it might be too minimal. people like having something to work with beyond just a color palette."

you nodded, already envisioning how utterly lifeless it would be. "and it could get boring fast. we need something with more… i don’t know. atmosphere."

before beomgyu could defend his idea, jiwon suddenly straightened in his seat, his perfectly styled hair falling slightly over his forehead as he tilted his head in what you knew was supposed to be a calculated display of charm. “hmm,” he mused, twirling his pen between his fingers. “what about an enchanted garden theme? twinkling fairy lights, roses everywhere, maybe even a little love-seat corner for couples…” his eyes flickered towardss taehyun, the end of his sentence laced with a easy lilt. “it’d be so cool, don’t you think, taehyun?”

taehyun, either genuinely oblivious or just expertly unfazed, regarded him with a blank expression, blinking once. “...that’s just prom with plants.” jiwon’s smile faltered for half a second before he recovered, running a hand through his neatly styled hair. “well, not just a prom! we could—”

“it’s a winter formal,” taehyun cut in smoothly, his tone polite but unwavering. “not a midsummer night’s dream.” jiwon huffed, his expression tightening for a split second before he forced another airy laugh, though the slight flicker of irritation in his eyes didn’t go unnoticed by you. “fine. whatever,”

taehyun paid him no mind, glancing at the rest of you. "anyone else?"

beomgyu, who was still highly entertained by the exchange, perked up once more, his lips stretching into a grin. "okay, okay," he sighed, lifting his hands in mock surrender. "what if we do… a retro neon theme?"

you, taehyun, and jiwon turned to look at him at the exact same time, identical expressions of sheer disbelief written across your faces.

“…beomgyu,” you deadpanned, eyeing him as if he had just suggested you all hold the event in a convenience store parking lot. “this is a winter formal.”

beomgyu blinked innocently. “yeah, and?”

taehyun tilted his head slightly, looking at him as if he were trying to decipher an alien language. “so, you want people to slow dance under fluorescent pink lights?”

beomgyu crossed his arms, clearly standing by his idea. “who said anything about slow dancing? picture this—electric blues, neon signs, a dance floor that actually lights up. vintage, but modern.”

you stared at him. “that literally makes no sense.”

beomgyu groaned, throwing his head back dramatically. "you guys are impossible.”

before another argument could erupt, jiwon clapped his hands together, his eyes brightening with excitement. "ooh! what about a winter wonderland?"

you physically felt your soul leave your body. slowly, deliberately, you turned to face him, fingers tightening around your pen. "jiwon," you said, voice calm yet edged with thinly veiled exasperation, "it is already winter. people are literally living in a winter wonderland right now."

he pouted slightly, tilting his head as if that would somehow make his idea sound more appealing. "but we could make it cute! like, snowflakes everywhere, and maybe a big fake ice castle—"

“so… the exact same theme the school has used like four times before?” beomgyu interjected, raising an eyebrow.

jiwon frowned, tapping his pen against the table in thought. “well, i mean… yeah, but it’s classic.”

you exhaled through your nose, pressing your fingers against your temple. classic or not, it was painfully predictable, and if you had to sit through another event drowning in fake icicles and blue-tinted lights as if you were in the antartica, you were going to lose your mind.

“we need something fresh,” you muttered. “something that actually makes people excited to go.”

taehyun glanced at you, a knowing glint in his eyes. "so, you want something that stands out?"

you turned to him, narrowing your eyes. "obviously." beomgyu, who had been silent for a beat too long, suddenly leaned back in his chair, stretching his arms over his head. “alright, then.” he let his arms drop back down, his gaze flickering between the three of you before a slow grin curved on his lips. “what about a masquerade ball?”

the room went quiet.

taehyun’s pen stilled between his fingers. you turned your head just in time to catch the way his gaze flickered to yours, brows raising slightly in silent acknowledgment. huh.

you narrowed your eyes, already seeing the gears turning in his head.

he knew.

you knew.

and beomgyu, perceptive as ever, caught onto the silent exchange in an instant. his grin widened, mischief flickering behind his eyes as he leaned forward, bracing his forearms against the table. “what’s with the looks? did i just blow your tiny little minds?”

you scoffed, but the corners of your lips twitched, betraying your amusement. “please. let’s not get ahead of ourselves.”

taehyun hummed, drumming his fingers against his notebook, the sound a steady, thoughtful rhythm. “she’s right. however, it’s actually a solid concept.”

beomgyu clutched his chest dramatically, leaning back in his chair like he had just been struck by an arrow. “oh my god. did the two scariest people in the student council just agree with me?”

jiwon, who had been slouching in his seat ever since his winter wonderland idea got shot down, straightened up slightly, interest piqued. “so… like those fancy, mysterious balls in movies?”

“exactly,” beomgyu confirmed, voice brimming with satisfaction. “dim lighting, chandeliers, intricate masks—people get to dress up and pretend to be someone else for a night.” he wagged his brows. “cool, isn’t it?”

taehyun ignored his theatrics, already scribbling down notes. “formal but not boring. atmospheric without being overly complicated. it works.”

you tapped a finger against your chin, pretending to deliberate. “hmm. it does sound good, but i don’t know, gyu. the fact that it came from you makes me a little skeptical.”

beomgyu gasped, feigning betrayal as he placed a hand over his heart. “come on, don’t you have faith in me?.”

you smirked, tilting your head. “oh, i have faith in you. just not in your taste.” “says the girl who still thinks vanilla ice cream is the superior flavor,” beomgyu shot back, eyes gleaming.

your jaw dropped. “what does that have to do with anything?”

taehyun, barely glancing up from his notes, murmured, “she’s right, though. it’s a classic.”

beomgyu let out an irked groan, throwing his hands up. “oh, so she gets a pass for being boring, but i make one suggestion and suddenly—”

“masquerade it is,” taehyun interrupted smoothly, tapping his pen against the page for emphasis. “it’s decided.”

beomgyu sat up a little straighter, his usual playful arrogance giving way to something softer—something closer to pride. he actually contributed something worthwhile, and he knew it.

you glanced around the table, noting the shift in energy. what started as a frustrating mess of half-baked ideas had finally settled into something concrete. something promising.

as the meeting neared its end, the room gradually emptied, leaving behind the quiet remnants of rustling papers and the faint echo of footsteps against the tiled floor. beomgyu was the first to sling his bag over his shoulder, stretching his arms high above his head with a satisfied groan. he looked far too pleased with himself, as if he had just single-handedly saved the winter formal instead of throwing out the most ridiculous suggestions until he accidentally landed on the perfect one.

“alright, my job here is done,” he announced, adjusting his strap before flashing a lopsided grin at you and taehyun. “don’t stay too late, lovebirds.”

“we are not—” you started, only for beomgyu to duck out the door before you could finish.

you let out a frustrated huff, but before you could dwell on it, jiwon stepped forward, his movements unhurried as he gathered his things. he lingered near taehyun’s side, adjusting the strap of his bag with an easygoing air, as if trying to find the right words.

“hey,” he started, offering a small, casual smile, “if you ever need help with anything, you can call me. you know, student council teamwork and all.”

taehyun, ever the picture of polite indifference, barely spared him a glance. “sure, noted.”

jiwon hesitated, clearly expecting something more—maybe a nod of acknowledgment, maybe even a small thanks—but when taehyun remained as detached as ever, he let out a short laugh, shaking his head as if to brush it off. “right. see you guys later, then. goodluck!”

and then, it was just you and taehyun.

the door clicked shut behind him, sealing your fate.

you exhaled, resting your elbows against the table before letting your forehead drop against the cool surface. “this is cruel and unusual punishment.”

taehyun barely looked up from his notes. “it’s called responsibility.”

you groaned. “i have plenty of responsibilities, thank you very much. this just happens to be the one i want to run from the most.”

“too bad.”

taehyun’s tone was frustratingly even, the very definition of someone who had already accepted his fate. you peeked up at him through your arms, watching as he methodically sorted through the remaining paperwork, his expression unreadable. it was strange. you were used to him being sharp, snarky, always finding ways to make your life harder rather than easier. but right now?

right now, he was just… doing the work. without complaint. without prodding.

you slowly sat up, watching him with narrowed eyes.

“okay, what’s your deal?”

taehyun finally looked up, raising an eyebrow. “what?”

“you.” you gestured vaguely at him, then at the neatly arranged papers in front of him. “you’re being helpful. like, actually helpful. it’s weird.”

his lips curled slightly, though the amusement didn’t quite reach his eyes. “i told you i’d help, didn’t i?”

“yeah, but not like.. this..” 

he huffed a quiet laugh, shaking his head before flipping through one of the documents. “you seriously underestimate me.”

“i seriously don’t.” you crossed your arms. “which is why i’m suspicious.”

taehyun sighed, tapping his pen against the table. “if it makes you feel better, i’ll handle the layout and catering logistics. you can start drafting the seating arrangements.”

you stared at him.

he stares back.

“…you already planned half of this, didn’t you?”

his silence was answer enough.

you blinked, momentarily thrown off by the sheer efficiency of it all. then, something flickered in his expression—something almost unreadable, something sincere—and suddenly, you didn’t know where to look.

“i told you,” taehyun murmured, his voice quieter now, as if he didn’t want to break whatever fragile moment had settled between you, “i’ll help.” you huffed out a breath, pushing aside the odd weight pressing at the edges of your mind, and refocused on the papers spread before you. whatever strange moment had just passed between you and taehyun—whatever flicker of something that had settled in the quiet between you—it didn’t matter. you had work to do.

the room sank into a silence that, against all odds, felt… natural. not suffocating, not strained, not heavy with the usual tension that came with being near taehyun for too long. it was a stark contrast to the earlier chaos of the meeting, the air now humming with something softer—less sharp edges, less sharp words.

it was almost unsettling how easily you both worked like this.

every now and then, one of you would break the silence.

“do we need to confirm the dj by the end of the week?”

“yeah, and the photographer too.”

or—

“should we let people vote for their own ball court, or do you think it’ll just turn into a popularity contest?”

“kang, every ball court is a popularity contest.”

for once, there were no playful jabs, no attempts to rile each other up—just efficiency. a rare, mutual understanding.

and yet, the hours dragged.

outside, the sun had begun to dip below the horizon, casting the room in streaks of orange and pink, elongating shadows across the table. the once-bright fluorescent lights above now felt too harsh, highlighting the exhaustion that had begun creeping into your bones. the weight of the day settled over you in increments—shoulders aching, head growing heavier, eyelids drooping ever so slightly.

then, as you were scanning through a list of venue restrictions, a yawn tore its way out of you before you could stop it.

taehyun’s head lifted at once. “tired?”

you blinked at him, rubbing your eyes as inconspicuously as possible. “no.”

his gaze flickered towardss you, sharp yet unreadable. “you should just go home. i can finish the rest.”

you scoffed, dropping your hand from your face. “what, and let you mess everything up? not on my watch.”

his brows raised slightly, the corner of his mouth twitching. “mess everything up? bold words, considering i’ve been handling student council work longer than you have.”

“exactly,” you countered, deadpan. “which means i know what you’re capable of, and frankly, it’s concerning.”

taehyun exhaled, shaking his head in mock disbelief. “you really don’t trust me with this, huh?”

“would you trust you?”

his lips curled, eyes glinting with amusement. “i trust myself way more than i trust you.”

you let out an exaggerated gasp. “excuse me?”

“you heard me.”

“taehyun, i carry the weight of this council on my back, and you know it.”

he let out a soft chuckle, leaning back in his chair. “right, because your world would fall apart if you admitted i actually help out around here.”

you narrowed your eyes, pointing a pen at him. “if you actually helped, i wouldn’t be here right now.”

“or maybe,” he mused, tilting his head, “you just like spending time with me.”

you nearly choked.

“as if,” you spluttered, eyes widening.

taehyun smirked, seemingly satisfied with your reaction. “so dramatic.”

you let out a groan, too tired to argue as you drag a hand down your face. “you’re insufferable.”

“and yet, you’re still here.”

“because i have to be,” you shot back.

he hummed, tapping his fingers against the table. “alright, then. let me—”

without thinking, your hand shot out, curling firmly around his wrist.

your breath caught in your throat, the moment stretching impossibly thin, charged with something you couldn’t name. your fingers were wrapped around the bare skin of taehyun’s wrist, his pulse thrumming steadily beneath your touch—warm, solid, real.

taehyun stilled.

for once, he looked just as caught off guard as you felt, his gaze flickering downward, lips parting slightly. you could see the exact moment realization dawned on him, something shifting in his expression, his breath coming just a fraction sharper.

but neither of you moved.

the air between you thickened, something unspoken curling into the space left behind by your bickering. your heart pounded against your ribs, so loud, you were convinced he could hear it. your palm burned against his skin, a sensation you weren’t sure was entirely physical.

you ripped your hand away, as if you had been scorched.

taehyun blinked at you, his expression unreadable, caught between something unreadable and something almost… curious. then, his lips twitched, the ghost of a smirk forming, though this one was softer—less teasing, more thoughtful.

“okay, okay,” he said, voice quieter now, almost teasing but not quite. “i’ll let you finish your own work.” you barely heard taehyun’s voice. barely registered the joyful lilt of his words or the soft chuckle that followed.

because something felt wrong.

not wrong in the way that set off alarms in your head—not danger, not fear—but something different. something foreign pressing against the edges of your awareness, unfamiliar yet impossibly warm. your wrist tingled, the sensation starting as a faint whisper beneath your skin before deepening into something more insistent, something that crawled up your arm like a quiet, lingering heat. it wasn’t painful, but it burned in a way that made your breath catch, a way that made your fingers curl against the table as if grounding yourself would somehow steady the sudden unease settling in your chest. your brows furrowed as the warmth pulsed again, slow and steady, like a heartbeat against your palm. for a second, you tried to ignore it, forcing your focus back onto the scattered documents before you. but the feeling refused to fade, refused to be dismissed as something inconsequential. it lingered, curling beneath your skin, insistent, waiting. a strange, quiet whisper of a sensation that made something stir uneasily in your chest.

your fingers twitched.

the urge to check clawed at you.

hesitantly, almost cautiously, you turned your palm over. your breath felt uneven, the steady rhythm of your chest rising and falling suddenly harder to control. your fingers flexed once, twice, before finally, with a sharp inhale, you reached for the sleeve of your jacket.

you hesitated.

just for a second.

then, slowly, you peeled the fabric back—

and you felt your breath hitch.

there, resting in the curve of your palm, was a single blue hydrangea.

it was small, delicate, impossibly soft-looking, its petals shimmering faintly with an ethereal glow. the light was subtle, barely noticeable, but it was there, a quiet pulse of something that shouldn’t be real. your eyes widen, your chest tightening, the air around you suddenly feeling too thick, too heavy, as if the weight of the moment itself was pressing down on you, demanding to be acknowledged. your fingers twitched again, hesitant, unsure, before finally moving—just barely grazing the petals. they were cool beneath your fingertips, soft as silk, fragile in a way that made your stomach twist. and yet, the moment you made contact, a warmth surged through you—different from before, deeper, curling through your chest, spreading outward in gentle waves, like ripples disturbing still water.

panic clawed at your ribs.

this wasn’t real.

it couldn’t be real.

cautiously, carefully, you lifted your gaze—

taehyun wasn’t even looking at you.

he was still focused on his own work, completely unaware of the storm unraveling within you. his expression remained neutral, his hands moving with practiced ease as he gathered the last of the documents, his posture relaxed as if nothing had happened. he hadn’t noticed the way you had frozen. he hadn’t heard the sharp breath that had caught in your throat. he hadn’t felt what you had felt.

you sat there, staring, mind spinning in frantic circles, barely registering the movement of his hands, the faint sound of paper rustling as he organized everything into neat stacks. he was still working. he had moved on.

your fingers tightened around your sleeve, pressing the fabric into your palm, concealing the impossible proof still resting there.

taehyun had no idea.

he hadn’t seen it.

but you had. suddenly, the way taehyun had been looking at you earlier—the way his voice had softened when he told you he’d help, the way his fingers had tapped against the table absentmindedly, as if waiting for something—felt different.

suddenly, the small, glowing flower sitting against your skin felt heavier than anything you had ever held.

your stomach twisted, fingers still curled tightly around your sleeve as you forced yourself to keep your expression neutral, to act as if your world hadn’t just been turned upside down.

but deep down, you already knew.

taehyun was your soulmate.

the chair scraped against the floor as you pushed back suddenly, the legs dragging loud and jarring against the quiet that had settled between you and taehyun. the movement was too sharp, too abrupt, and when you stood, a wave of dizziness hit you like a punch to the chest. taehyun’s head snapped up at the sudden movement, brows knitting together in something close to confusion. “where are you going?” his voice was steady, but there was a slight edge to it—one that might’ve gone unnoticed if your heart wasn’t already hammering in your chest. “i thought you wanted to stay?”

you swallowed, trying to mask the way your breath felt uneven, the way something inside you trembled like a frayed wire sparking against itself. “i—” your throat felt dry. you shook your head, barely able to string together a convincing excuse. “i-i just remembered i have something to do.”

taehyun’s eyes narrowed slightly, his gaze sharp and assessing as he leaned back in his chair. “really?”

you exhaled sharply, trying to pull yourself together, trying to keep your feet moving before you did something foolish. “yes, really,” you bit out, words a little too rushed, too forced. you took a step back, then another. “i should go.”

“now?” taehyun’s voice carried a note of incredulity, as if he was trying to make sense of the contradiction. just minutes ago, you had argued tooth and nail about staying, yet now, here you were, bolting for the door like something was chasing you.

you nodded once, stiffly, pressing your lips together. “yes. now.”

before he could say anything else, before the weight of his gaze could pin you down, you spun on your heel and hurried for the door. your heart thundered violently against your ribs, your pulse roaring in your ears, but you didn’t stop. you couldn’t.

the cool evening air hit you like a shock to the system when you finally stepped outside, your lungs burning with the weight of everything you had just run from. but even then, even with the distance now stretching between you and taehyun, your fingers curled instinctively tighter around your sleeve, as if the mere act of holding it close could somehow make the truth disappear.

but it didn’t.

because pressed against your palm, glowing softly beneath the fabric, the tiny blue hydrangea still remained. ꒰💐꒱ you couldn't sleep.

you lay on your bed, staring blankly at the ceiling, but the silence in your room was anything but peaceful. it was suffocating—thick and pressing, curling around your ribs like invisible vines, making it impossible to breathe. every time you closed your eyes, you saw it. that flower. delicate and impossibly vibrant, glowing softly against your palm as if mocking you. and with it came the realization you still weren’t ready to accept, the one that had rattled you so deeply you could barely think straight.

kang taehyun was your soulmate.

your stomach twisted, a cold weight settling deep in your gut. it didn’t make sense. it couldn’t make sense. the universe, fate—whatever cruel force had determined this—must have made a mistake. had to have made a mistake. because out of all the people in the world, why him? why the one person you could barely stand, the one person who got under your skin like no one else could?

a frustrated breath tore from your lips as you sat up abruptly, shoving your blanket off. you couldn’t just sit here, drowning in the sheer absurdity of it all. your fingers reached for your phone, unlocking it in one swift motion before you began typing furiously into the search bar, your heart hammering so loudly it nearly drowned out the quiet hum of the device.

how to break a soulmate bond?

your thumb hovered over the screen as you hesitated, an uneasy feeling creeping into your chest.

then you pressed enter.

your eyes scanned the results, fingers scrolling hastily, only for a sharp sting of disappointment to hit you when the answers all read the same:

soulmates are predetermined from birth.a soulmate bond cannot be unbound.a soulmate connection is permanent.

your grip on your phone tightened.

you tried again.

can you reject your soulmate?can a soulmate connection fade?is there a way to erase a soulmate bond?

but again, every response remained cruelly, infuriatingly unchanged. your chest constricted, heat rising to your cheeks as frustration built like a storm inside you. you hated this. hated the idea that some unseen force had decided your fate without your consent, tying you to taehyun in a way you couldn’t even begin to understand.

your pulse pounded in your ears, but you forced yourself to keep reading, scanning through endless articles, forums, old folklore—anything that might give you a loophole.

and then, finally, you found something.

your eyes locked onto a passage buried within a lengthy explanation on soulmate manifestations. the words swam before you, but you forced yourself to focus, breath catching as you reread the key line over and over again.

"the flower will continue to appear until the bond is acknowledged and reciprocated."

you swallowed hard, gripping your phone tighter.

"only through mutual recognition—through intertwined touch—can the cycle be broken."

a shiver crawled up your spine, slow and deliberate, like a creeping realization settling deep into your bones. the weight of it pressed against your chest, making it harder to breathe, harder to think past the overwhelming truth that had been forced upon you. your stomach twisted at the thought. as long as he didn’t know—as long as you never let your hands fully intertwine—he wouldn’t find out. the flower would keep returning, yes, but it wasn’t permanent. it wasn’t an unshakable mark of fate binding the two of you together in an irreversible way.

your breath caught as you hesitated, then slowly peeled back your sleeve, heart hammering wildly against your ribs. but when your gaze flickered down—

nothing.

the flower was gone. a sharp exhale left you, a rush of relief so sudden it nearly made you laugh. it wasn’t a mark you were doomed to wear forever. it could be hidden, erased, kept entirely to yourself. your fingers curled into a fist, as if trying to physically trap the secret away, to hold it tight before it could slip through the cracks and ruin everything.

taehyun didn’t have to know.

you could keep this to yourself. you could pretend it never happened. as long as you avoided direct contact, as long as you stayed careful, the truth would remain buried. and taehyun—your soulmate—would never have to find out.

the thought should have been comforting, should have eased the sick feeling that had settled in your stomach. but it didn’t. because no matter how much you tried to ignore it, push it down, pretend it wasn’t real—

the fact remained.

the universe had chosen taehyun for you.

and worse—

it had chosen you for him.

you exhaled slowly, pressing your palms over your eyes as if the darkness behind your lids could somehow erase the thoughts running rampant in your mind. it was useless—no matter how much you tried to push it away, the truth remained, lodged deep beneath your skin like a splinter that refused to be ignored.

still, you had to at least try.

dragging in a breath, you shifted onto your side, curling beneath the covers in a last-ditch effort to find rest, even if only for a few fleeting hours. the room was silent, save for the faint ticking of the clock on your desk, a reminder of just how little time you had left before the world would start moving again. you squeezed your eyes shut, forcing yourself to focus on the steady rise and fall of your chest, on the softness of the sheets beneath your fingertips. if you could just empty your mind, even just for a moment.

but sleep never truly came.

instead, you drifted in and out of a restless haze, thoughts tangling and unraveling like threads in your mind. each time you closed your eyes, you swore you could still feel the lingering warmth against your palm, the faint ghost of a touch that had changed everything. and before you knew it, the sun had already risen.

a sliver of golden light filtered through your curtains, painting soft, dappled shapes across your walls. you barely had time to register the shift before your alarm blared to life, the sharp, grating sound pulling you straight back into reality.

with a heavy sigh, you rolled onto your back, staring at the ceiling as exhaustion settled deep in your bones. the weight in your chest hadn't lessened overnight—if anything, it had only grown heavier, sinking deeper now that you had to face what came next.

school. preparing for the winter ball. more responsibilities.

and worse than that, taehyun.

your jaw tightened at the thought. there was no avoiding him. no ignoring his presence, no pretending he didn’t exist when he was the student council president, when you had to work with him to organize the ball, when he was everywhere. when, no matter how much you wanted to, you couldn't just erase him from your world.

but today, you had no choice but to pretend.

pretend like nothing had changed. pretend like you weren’t walking into the same room as the person you were now inexplicably tied to. pretend like he wasn’t your soulmate.with one last deep breath, you swung your legs over the side of the bed, steeling yourself for the day ahead.

as you got ready, the soft rustle of fabric filled the quiet of your room as you slipped into your jacket, fingers instinctively pulling the sleeves down past your wrists. you had always worn one out of habit, for comfort more than anything else, but today—it served a different purpose.

today, it was a barrier.

a thin layer of protection between you and the one person who could never know the truth.

your hands lingered for a moment, curling around the edges of your sleeves as if gripping them tighter would somehow ease the weight pressing against your chest. it didn’t. but still, you exhaled slowly, steeling yourself, before finally grabbing your bag and heading out the door.

as you got off the bus, the walk to school felt longer than usual. every step was heavy, your mind still tangled in the sleepless hours of the night before. the closer you got, the more you could feel it—that slow, creeping sense of unease settling in your bones, tightening its hold with each passing second.

but you kept your head low.

you had no interest in conversation. no interest in being perceived. the last thing you needed was someone taking notice of the way your mind was still reeling, the way your body was thrumming with something unsettled, something wrong.

“you in a hurry or something?”

your breath caught.

a voice. familiar. casual. far too easy going for how completely, utterly not easy this situation was. you didn’t have to look to know who it was. your fingers curled tighter around the strap of your bag, your knuckles turning faintly white from the force of your grip. as if holding on to something tangible could tether you, could anchor you to a reality that suddenly felt unbearably fragile.

his voice was light, threaded with that signature confidence that made your stomach curl uncomfortably.

"you practically ran out of the council room yesterday," taehyun mused, the curiosity in his voice so casual, so innocent, that it almost sounded like he wasn’t completely prying. but you knew better. taehyun never asked without reason. "thought you were so insistent on staying late and finishing up the work. kind of weird that you suddenly changed your mind."

your pulse stuttered.

so he noticed.

of course he did.

you forced yourself to keep your expression neutral, to fight against the tension creeping into your shoulders, the way your skin still buzzed with the weight of yesterday’s discovery.

"i changed my mind," you muttered, your voice clipped, carefully detached. "had more important things to do."

a hum. slow. drawn out. deliberate.

"oh?" taehyun says, his voice dipping ever so slightly, laced with a knowing lilt that sent an uncomfortable prickle down your spine. "that doesn’t sound like you. you never leave work unfinished, no matter how late it gets. if anything, you’d rather scold me for trying to leave early. i think that’s why it’s kind of… suspicious."

your fingers twitched. he was digging. picking at the cracks in your carefully composed exterior, sifting through the spaces where your walls weren’t quite thick enough. and you could feel it—the weight of his gaze as he examined you, silently cataloging every tiny inconsistency, every hesitation, every shift in your posture.

your stomach twisted.

he couldn’t know.

"look, i don’t know what you’re talking about," you said, feigning indifference, eyes fixed ahead. "i went home. did what i needed to do. end of story."

a silence stretched between you, thin yet impossibly dense.

"you’re a terrible liar."

the words were soft. simple. but they landed like a blow, striking something deep within you.

"seriously, what’s up with you?" taehyun continued, voice quieter now, softer around the edges, but no less insistent. his eyes were sharp, searching, tracing over your profile like he was trying to piece together a puzzle he wasn’t meant to solve. "you’ve been acting weird since yesterday. not just weird—weird in a way that actually bothers me. and that’s saying something."

your breath hitched before you could stop it, and for just a fraction of a second, your steps faltered.

it was slight—barely noticeable, barely anything—but taehyun caught it. of course he did.

his gaze sharpened, quiet and unrelenting, brushing over the rigid line of your shoulders, the tightness in your grip, the way your breath had become just a little too controlled.

"seriously," he pressed again, more deliberate this time. "what’s going on with you? you don’t usually avoid eye contact like this. or, you know, sprint out of rooms like you just saw a ghost." he was watching you. waiting. reading between the spaces of your words, searching for something—an answer, a tell, the truth.

and it was too much.

too much when your thoughts were still tangled in the ghost of a blue hydrangea, too much when the memory of it felt like a brand against your skin, too much when your own chest felt like it was caving under the weight of what you could not let him know.

"i told you, it’s nothing!"

the word came out too fast, too sharp, too frayed at the edges, spilling into the space between you like a crack in fragile glass.

"nothing’s wrong, okay?" you snapped, exasperation bleeding into every syllable as you finally turned to glare at him. "i don’t know why you’re so fixated on this, but if i say it’s nothing, then it’s nothing!"

taehyun’s steps slowed, just barely, but enough for you to feel it.

then, after a beat, his lips curled.

"there’s my girl."

the words were light, teasing, but something about the way he said them—low, warm, unbearably fond—made your breath catch in your throat.

your stomach flipped.

heat crept up your neck, curling at the edges of your resolve, licking at the barriers you had so carefully built.

"don’t call me that," you snapped, voice edged with irritation, but the way your chest tightened betrayed you. taehyun only grinned wider, unfazed. "why not?” you let out a scoff, shoving past him with a force that felt more like fleeing than anything else, quickening your pace towards the school entrance, desperate to put space between you, to shake off the warmth he left behind.

taehyun only chuckled, the sound rich with amusement, smooth and unbothered, trailing after you like a shadow you couldn’t escape.

as you and taehyun made your way towards the principal’s office, you could still feel the weight of his earlier words clinging to your skin. you forced yourself to set it aside, straightening your posture and steeling your expression as the two of you stepped into the office.

the principal greeted you both with a bright, approving smile, clearly pleased that the student council had taken the initiative to organize such an elaborate event. as you and taehyun pitched the ideas you had gathered from the meeting—the masquerade ball, the theme, the various activities planned—their expression only grew more delighted, nodding along enthusiastically.

"this all sounds wonderful!" he beamed, already reaching for the budget reports. "i'll grant you the funds you requested, and since this will require a lot of preparation, i'll allow you both to skip certain classes leading up to the event. just make sure to check in with your teachers and stay on top of your work."

you forced a polite smile, nodding in agreement, though internally, you grimaced at the thought of spending even more time with taehyun outside of your usual council duties. meanwhile, beside you, taehyun merely gave an easy, knowing grin, as if he could already sense your reluctance.

with the necessary approvals in hand, the two of you left the office and quickly made your way to find beomgyu and jiwon, easily spotting them in the hallway between classes. after explaining the situation, excusing them from their schedules, and going over the event details, the four of you gathered in the council room once again to divide the responsibilities.

"beomgyu, jiwon, you’ll be in charge of designing and putting up the promotional posters," taehyun started, his voice smooth and sure, as if he had already planned out the entire structure of the event in his head. "you’ll also be handling the setup for the photobooth and confirming everything with the dj and photographer."

beomgyu perked up at that, a spark of excitement in his eyes as he nodded. "oh, i have ideas already. don’t worry, the posters are gonna be a masterpiece." “so do i!” jiwon chimed in, nodding with a soft smile.

"good," taehyun said before turning to you. his gaze was steady, too steady, and you already had a bad feeling about what was coming. "that leaves us to handle the venue arrangements, the catering, and organizing the seating plans."

your stomach dropped.

"wait, what?" you blurted, brows knitting together. "why do i have to be paired with you? can't i switch?"

taehyun barely looked fazed, tilting his head in amusement. "because you’re the vice president, and i’m the president. it makes sense that we handle the major logistics together."

"but—"

"besides," he cut you off smoothly, a teasing lilt creeping into his voice, "you wouldn't want to leave all the important decision-making to me, would you? i might pick the absolute worst venue just to spite you."

you opened your mouth to protest, only to close it again when you realized he had you cornered. he knew you couldn’t let him handle this alone—not because you trusted his judgment, but because you absolutely didn’t.

your fingers clenched around the edge of the table before you finally let out a sharp exhale, shoulders dropping in reluctant defeat. "fine," you muttered, crossing your arms. "but if you make this unbearable for me, i swear—"

"i wouldn’t dream of it," taehyun interjected smoothly, lips quirking up in that ever-infuriating smirk of his.

beomgyu, watching the exchange, let out a low whistle, shooting you a look that was half amused, half pitying. "good luck," he mused, already turning towards jiwon to start discussing the poster designs.

as much as you wanted to drag your feet and stall for time, taehyun was already leading the way towards the computer lab, walking with that effortless confidence that somehow always managed to get under your skin. you followed begrudgingly, arms still crossed over your chest, every step weighed down by the unfortunate reality that you were stuck with him for this part of the planning.

the computer lab was mostly empty when you entered, save for a few students hunched over their screens, quietly typing away. the hum of the machines filled the air, the glow of the monitors casting a cool, sterile light over the room. taehyun wasted no time claiming a spot near the corner, settling into one of the chairs and gesturing for you to take the seat beside him.

reluctantly, you did.

"all right," he murmured, fingers already flying across the keyboard as he pulled up a search tab. "we need a venue that’s available in less than two weeks, big enough for the whole student body, and actually within our budget."

you scoffed, leaning back against your chair with an unimpressed look. "wow, really? i had no idea. it's not like i wasn’t at the meeting where we came up with this idea or anything."

taehyun barely spared you a glance, but you could see the corner of his mouth twitch. "just making sure we’re on the same page," he said smoothly, scrolling through a list of banquet halls. "i know how slow you can be sometimes."

your head snapped towards him, eyes narrowing. "excuse me?"

he hummed, feigning deep concentration as he clicked through different options. "i mean, it took you ages to realize you liked working with me. maybe this will take just as long." "i do not like working with you," you shot back, voice low and sharp.

"mhm," he teased, tilting his head. "whatever helps you sleep at night."

your fingers curled into fists as you resisted the urge to reach over and shove him off his chair. instead, you let out a long, slow exhale, rolling your shoulders before refocusing on the task at hand. arguing with him was getting you nowhere, and you refused to give him the satisfaction of throwing you off track.

"just focus," you muttered, pulling up a different search window. "we need to find a venue, not waste time on whatever nonsense is coming out of your mouth."

"you wound me," taehyun sighed dramatically, placing a hand over his chest. "but fine, i’ll behave. for now."

you didn’t believe that for a second.

the next minutes were spent in a tense yet oddly efficient silence, both of you scanning through listings, occasionally typing out emails or jotting down notes. but of course, peace was never meant to last when taehyun was involved.

"how about this one?" he asked suddenly, turning his screen to your direction. "it’s big, has great lighting, and look—it even comes with a dance floor."

you barely glanced at it before shaking your head. "too expensive."

"oh, so now you're frugal?" he teased, clicking his tongue. "you didn't seem to care when we were talking about decorations."

"because decorations actually matter," you retorted. "unlike whatever overpriced ballroom you're looking at right now."

"overpriced?" taehyun leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms. "you have no taste." "and you have no concept of budgeting," you shot back, matching his posture with a challenging stare.

he grinned. "fine. your turn. pick a place."

you turned back to your screen, scanning through the options until you found one that seemed promising—spacious, reasonably priced, and still available within your tight timeframe. with a victorious smirk, you veered your laptop in his direction. "this one."

taehyun hummed, skimming over the details. then, to your immense irritation, he shrugged. "eh. it's decent."

"decent?" you repeated, your eye twitching. "it's perfect."

"i don't know," he mused, dragging out the words. "it’s a little plain, don’t you think?"

"you're plain," you grumbled under your breath.

taehyun chuckled, shaking his head as he clicked on the venue’s contact page. "all right, i’ll admit—it’s not bad. let’s call and see if it’s available."

"thank you," you huffed, leaning back in your chair.

taehyun shot you a look, his smirk still annoyingly present. "see? wasn’t that fun?"

"you’re insufferable."

"oh, please," he said, spinning slightly in his chair, "we both know that’s not true."

you exhaled sharply, closing your eyes for a brief moment to collect what little patience you had left. taehyun wasted no time pulling out his phone, fingers tapping swiftly as he dialed the number listed on the venue’s website. you followed suit, opening your email and drafting a message to another potential location, your heart already sinking at the thought of waiting for replies.

"come on, pick up," taehyun muttered under his breath, tapping his fingers against the desk impatiently as the call rang. his expression remained neutral, but you could tell from the slight furrow of his brows that he wasn’t the biggest fan of uncertainty either.

you pressed send on your email, leaning back with a sigh. "i hate this part," you admitted, watching as the message disappeared into the abyss of cyberspace. "just sitting around, waiting, hoping someone actually gets back to us soon."

"patience, grasshopper," taehyun mused, shooting you a teasing glance before straightening when someone finally answered his call. "yes, hi," he said smoothly, his tone shifting into something professional yet casual. "i was wondering if your venue is available for a school event in—"

he suddenly went quiet. you watched as his lips pressed into a thin line, his expression darkening slightly.

"... oh," he said after a pause, voice flat. "i see. no, that’s fine. thanks anyway."

you already knew what had happened before he even ended the call. "booked?"

"booked," taehyun confirmed with a sigh, tossing his phone onto the desk. "for the next three months."

"great," you muttered, rubbing your temples. "just our luck."

"don't be so dramatic," taehyun teased, picking up his phone again. "we still have options. just gotta keep trying."

"yeah, yeah," you sighed, refreshing your inbox just in case. nothing yet. not that you expected an immediate response, but it didn't stop the impatience from creeping in. your fingers moved swiftly over the keyboard, the soft clicks filling the quiet space between you and taehyun as you sent out the last of your inquiries. with a sigh, you leaned back in your chair, rubbing your temples before glancing at him. "i'll start looking for catering too," you said, already pulling up a new tab. "no point in wasting time while we wait."

taehyun glanced up from his phone, his lips curling into an approving smile. "look at you," he mused, amusement laced in his tone. "so efficient. what would we do without you?"

you rolled your eyes. "fail, probably."

he chuckled, tilting his head as if considering it. "you might be right." then, before you could react, his hand lifted slightly, fingers reaching towards your head, the familiar motion making it painfully clear what he was about to do.

your body reacts before your mind fully processed it. panic surged through you, a sharp, instinctual jolt of alarm shooting down your spine as you immediately ducked out of his reach. your chair scraped against the floor as you leaned away, eyes widening slightly before narrowing into a glare. "don’t," you snapped, voice sharp with warning.

taehyun blinked at you, startled for all of a second before a slow, knowing grin stretched across his face. "wow," he laughed, clearly entertained by your reaction. "didn't realize you hated me that much."

you scowled, heat prickling at the back of your neck. "i just don’t like being touched."

"uh-huh," he drawled, unconvinced, but he let it go, instead leaning back in his chair with a smirk that made you want to throw your laptop at him. too bad you had nothing to reimburse the ruin if you did decide to do just that. "whatever you say."

you huffed, turning back to your screen with more force than necessary. ignoring the way your heartbeat was still uneven, you focused on scrolling through catering options, clicking on the ones that looked promising. taehyun, meanwhile, resumed his calls, his voice switching between polite and slightly frustrated as he dealt with yet another rejection.

"seriously?" he muttered under his breath after hanging up. "do people just book venues for fun? why is everything taken?" you barely spared him a glance, typing out another inquiry. "maybe the universe just enjoys watching you suffer."

taehyun exhaled a sharp laugh, shaking his head as he dialed another number. "if that's the case, then it really needs to get a new hobby." your lips parted slightly as a soft chuckle slipped out before you even realized it, the sound light and fleeting amidst the quiet hum of the computer lab. you didn’t dwell on it, simply shaking your head before shifting your focus back to your screen, fingers gliding over the keyboard as you continued to scroll through catering services, listing them down one by one in a growing document. beside you, taehyun remained engrossed in his own task, his voice occasionally dipping in and out of conversation as he made yet another call.

and so, the afternoon passed in a steady rhythm—clicks of the keyboard, the quiet murmur of emails being typed, the occasional sigh of frustration whenever another rejection came through. time blurred into an endless cycle of inquiries and planning, every second dedicated to ensuring the ball would come together despite the ridiculous time constraint.

but eventually, exhaustion began to creep in, a slow and subtle weight pressing against you. the lack of sleep from the night before clawed at your consciousness, your eyelids growing heavier with every passing moment. at first, you tried to fight it, blinking rapidly and straightening your posture, but it was no use. the lull of soft ambient noise, the gentle warmth of the room, the repetitive motions all pooled together into something dangerously lulling, and before you knew it, your head dipped slightly, your body leaning into the comfortable haze of rest.

meanwhile, taehyun was still fully engaged in his work, the tip of his tongue pressed against the inside of his cheek as he skimmed through his emails. his patience was wearing thin after what felt like the hundredth rejection, but then, his screen lit up with a notification, a new message appearing in his inbox. when he opened it, his eyes widened slightly.

"finally," he breathed, his tone shifting from weary to triumphant in an instant. then, louder, "we got one! a venue just confirmed they’re available!" but no response came.

taehyun furrowed his brows, turning his head slightly. "hey, are you—"

he stopped mid-sentence.

his gaze landed on you, and for the first time that day, he fell completely silent.

your body was relaxed, posture softened in a way he’d never seen before. your breathing was slow, steady, your lashes resting lightly against your cheeks as you remained completely still. the exhaustion you had been so clearly fighting had finally won, lulling you into an unguarded moment of peace.

taehyun’s lips parted slightly as he took in the sight before him, the sharp edges of his usual teasing demeanor smoothing out into something gentler.

his eyes traced the curve of your cheek, the way a few stray strands of hair had fallen into your face, shifting slightly with each slow exhale. for a fleeting second, his fingers twitched, the urge to reach out and tuck them away bubbling up inside him.

but he hesitated.

he knew you wouldn’t like that.

instead, taehyun simply sighed, a quiet, barely-there smile tugging at the corners of his lips. shaking his head to himself, he leaned back in his chair, voice a hushed murmur as he muttered, "maybe another time." ꒰💐꒱ the world around you was slow to come into focus. a quiet groan slipped past your lips as you sat up, stretching your arms over your head, your body protesting the hours spent slumped over in an awkward position. your fingers moved to rub the sleep from your eyes, the lingering haze of exhaustion still clinging to you like a thick fog. for a moment, everything was a blur—the dim hum of computer screens, the distant echoes of muffled footsteps from outside, the faint glow of the overhead lights. but as your mind caught up with your surroundings, realization settled over you like a sudden jolt.

you were still in the computer lab.

blinking away the remnants of sleep, your gaze drifted over the space, taking in the faint glow of the monitors, the scattered notes, and the quiet that had settled into the room like a thick, undisturbed blanket. it was late. way too late.

but then, as your eyes continued to wander, they landed on something—or rather, someone. just beside you, head tilted ever so slightly to the side, arms loosely crossed over his chest, was taehyun. asleep.

you stilled.

for a long moment, you simply stared, your breath caught somewhere between surprise and something far too unnameable to grasp. taehyun was never this still, never this quiet. he was all sharp edges and smooth confidence, all witty remarks and knowing smirks. yet, in this moment, every single ounce of that usual energy had melted away.

your eyes traced the softened lines of his face, the way his lashes rested against his cheeks, casting delicate shadows against his skin. his lips, usually curved into something smug or teasing, were parted just slightly, his breathing even and unhurried. he looked… peaceful.

your fingers twitched slightly against your lap, as if unsure of what to do with themselves. you had never seen him like this before, had never had the chance to observe him without his usual air of unwavering self-assurance. your body moved before your mind could even begin to comprehend what you were about to do.

it was irrational. reckless, even. completely devoid of the careful distance you had sworn to maintain between the two of you. but despite every screaming thought urging you to stop, despite the warning bells ringing furiously in the back of your mind, your hand was already moving, trembling slightly as it hovered just above taehyun’s skin, caught in a delicate hesitation that lasted all but a second.

and then, before you could so much as blink, before common sense could come crashing down like a tidal wave and pull you away—

your fingertips brushed against his cheek.

warm.

taehyun was warm.

so impossibly warm that the contrast against the cool air of the computer lab sent a shiver down your spine. it wasn’t much—just the lightest touch, barely there, fleeting like a whisper of wind. so delicate it could have easily been mistaken for a trick of the mind.

but it wasn’t.

because the moment your skin made contact with his, an all-too-familiar heat unfurled across your wrist—burning, spreading, blooming like ink in water. your breath caught in your throat, your entire body stiffening as realization slammed into you with the force of a freight train.

oh.

oh no.

it was happening again.

the hydrangea—it was back. you didn’t even need to roll up your sleeve to check. you felt it, felt the warmth seeping into your skin like an irreversible brand, a cruel reminder of the connection you were desperately trying to ignore.

your heartbeat stuttered, then picked up pace, pounding against your ribs like it was attempting to escape. what have you done? what on earth had possessed you to—

a shift.

a breath.

a quiet inhale, followed by the faintest stir of movement.

taehyun was waking up.

your stomach twisted painfully, panic slamming into your chest with dizzying force as his body tensed slightly, as his lashes fluttered ever so faintly, as the slow pull of consciousness dragged him from sleep.

you ripped your hand away as if burned, shoving it into your lap, curling your fingers into the fabric of your skirt in a poor attempt to ground yourself. but the damage was already done. you had been too late.

taehyun’s eyes cracked open, hazy with sleep, dark irises unfocused as they attempted to adjust to the dim lighting. for a moment, he looked dazed, blinking sluggishly, his expression lost in the remnants of slumber. but then his gaze settled on you.

still sitting too close.

still stiff with the remnants of panic.

taehyun’s brows furrowed slightly, a quiet breath escaping his lips, his voice still heavy with drowsiness. “were you just—?”

“no.”

the word shot out of your mouth before he could even finish his sentence, abrupt and sharp, too quick, too defensive. you barely resisted the urge to flinch at how obvious it sounded, how guilty it made you seem.

taehyun blinked again, sluggish and confused, his gaze flickering between your face and the way you were suddenly clutching your hands together as if you were trying to physically restrain yourself. his gaze lingered for a second too long, sharp despite the remnants of sleep still clouding his features, and then, as if a switch had flipped, his lips stretched into that insufferable, knowing grin—the one that always meant trouble.

taehyun sat up straighter, stretching his arms out with a low hum before tilting his head towardss you, expression brimming with mischief. “so,” he drawled, eyes glinting, “are you gonna tell me what that was about, or should i start guessing?”

“nothing,” you muttered, a little too quickly, shifting in your seat, fingers curling tighter around the ends of your sleeves, your grip near suffocating as you tugged the fabric down as far as it would go.

taehyun leaned in slightly, feigning deep contemplation. “hm, you sure? because it really seemed like—”

“it wasn’t,” you snapped, gaze locked stubbornly on the desk, anywhere but at him, anywhere but those sharp eyes that always seemed to see far too much. “just thought you had dirt in your face.”

“you’re a terrible liar.”

“and you’re annoying.”

“a little defensive, don’t you think?”

your grip on your sleeves tightened further, fingers curling so desperately around the fabric that your knuckles turned white, nails pressing in with enough force that they nearly pierced through.

taehyun simply leaned back against his chair, smugness dripping from every inch of him as he studied you with lazy amusement. “what, did you get tired of glaring at me and decide watching me sleep was more entertaining?”

your patience, already worn dangerously thin, snapped. “i told you, it’s not what you think!” you groaned, pushing yourself up from your seat and shoving your things into your bag with far more force than necessary, each motion sharp and hurried—zipping up folders with a little too much vigor, stuffing loose papers inside with no care for whether they crumpled or not. taehyun’s grin only widened as he watched you all but stuff your things into your bag, each movement hurried and brimming with frustration. you could practically hear the amusement dripping from his voice as he tilted his head, unbothered by your growing irritation.

“you know,” he mused, stretching his arms out as if he had all the time in the world, “you’re acting really suspicious right now.”

you rolled your eyes so hard it was a wonder they didn’t get stuck. “oh, please. if anyone’s suspicious, it’s you.”

“me?” he gasped, placing a hand over his chest in mock offense, though the effect was ruined by the barely contained smirk tugging at his lips. “i just woke up, and now i’m being accused? unbelievable.”

“yeah, well, believe it,” you shot back, zipping up your bag with more force than necessary. “you’re always up to something.”

taehyun hummed, resting his chin on his hand as he studied you with lazy amusement. “you’re deflecting.”

“you’re projecting.”

he let out a low whistle, shaking his head. “this is the worst attempt at changing the subject i’ve ever seen.”

your grip on your bag strap tightened. “maybe if you shut up, we wouldn’t need to change the subject at all.”

taehyun only smirked, his eyes glinting in that way that always made your stomach twist. “so, let me get this straight,” he says, tapping a finger against his chin as if deep in thought. “you’re telling me you really weren’t just staring at me while i was sleeping? because from where i’m standing, it really looked like you were admiring me.”

your entire body went rigid. “i was not—!”

“no need to be shy,” taehyun continued, his voice syrupy sweet, the kind of tone that dripped with amusement and a touch of self-satisfaction, tilting his head just slightly, leaning into your space like he was savoring every second of your frustration. “i get it. i mean, you don’t get to see me this peaceful that often. i must’ve looked pretty cute, huh?”

your jaw nearly dropped, lips parting in sheer disbelief at the audacity—the absolute gall—he had to say that with a straight face. “oh my god. shut up.”

taehyun gasped again, clutching his chest as if you had just personally wounded him, eyes wide with faux shock, though the mischief never left his face. “you were watching me, weren’t you? i knew it!”

your fingers curled around the strap of your bag, knuckles turning bone-white from how hard you were gripping it, the pressure grounding you against the unbearable mix of panic and irritation bubbling in your chest. “you know what?” you huffed, your voice sharp and clipped, already done with this conversation before it could escalate any further. “i don’t have to stand here and listen to this.”

without another word, you spun on your heel, movements stiff with frustration as you stormed towards the door, each step fueled by the desperate need to escape before he could dig any deeper into your flustered state. but, of course, taehyun was already up, barely missing a beat before falling into step beside you, effortlessly matching your hurried pace with infuriating ease. his laughter trailed after you like an ever-present shadow, light and teasing, his amusement practically radiating off of him.

“hey, don’t run away now,” he drawled, his voice laced with amusement, the playfulness evident in every syllable as he shot you a look that only made your irritation spike further. “i have more questions!”

you groaned, pressing your lips together in a firm line, refusing to dignify him with a response as you quickened your steps—but taehyun was right there, undeterred, his grin only widening as if he thrived on seeing you squirm.

as if sensing the utter exasperation radiating off you in waves, taehyun finally—mercifully—let the teasing subside, falling into step beside you without another word. you kept to yourself, keeping your gaze ahead, shoulders still slightly tense from the lingering remnants of his antics.

every now and then, your fingers twitched at your side before subtly moving to check your wrist, barely lifting the fabric of your sleeve as you stole a glance at the skin beneath. you weren’t sure why you kept looking, but each time, your stomach twisted with a strange mix of nerves and anticipation.

eventually, on what must have been your fifth or sixth check, you finally let out a quiet sigh, relief washing over you at the sight of bare skin. the soft exhale wasn’t loud by any means, but taehyun, ever perceptive, immediately picked up on it.

“what’s got you so relieved?” he chirped, his voice breaking through the quiet with an almost childlike curiosity.

you tensed for half a second before quickly schooling your features back into indifference, rolling your eyes as if to dismiss his question entirely. “none of your business,” you muttered, keeping your voice even, though you didn’t miss the way his gaze lingered on you for just a moment longer than necessary.

but instead of prying, which was something he would normally do just to get a rise out of you, taehyun simply smiled. not the usual smirk, not the playful glint of mischief, but something softer, something almost… fond.

“okay,” he said easily, like he wasn’t the least bit offended by your refusal to answer. the two of you walked in silence after that, the rhythmic tapping of your footsteps against the pavement filling the space between you. the air was crisp, carrying with it the distant hum of the city, the occasional rustle of leaves as the wind passed through.

after a while, taehyun spoke again, this time without any trace of teasing in his tone. “by the way, the venue’s set,” he said, glancing at you briefly before turning his gaze back ahead. “we got the confirmation while you were asleep. the deal’s all settled.”

you hummed at that, not quite looking at him as you muttered, “that’s good.”

another beat of silence stretched between you before something nudged at the back of your mind, something that had been lingering there ever since you had woken up in the computer lab. furrowing your brows slightly, you turned to him, your voice laced with mild confusion as you asked, “why were you sleeping too, anyway? you could’ve just gone home.”

taehyun barely blinked, as if he had been expecting the question. his expression remained as casual as ever, hands tucked into his pockets as he shrugged. “well, i couldn’t just leave you sleeping there all alone,” he said, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. “and i’m pretty sure you wouldn’t have liked it if i woke you up either, so…”

his voice trailed off, but the implication lingered between you. your steps faltered for just a fraction of a second, eyes flickering towards him instinctively, but he wasn’t looking at you. instead, he just kept walking, his expression unreadable, as if what he had said wasn’t anything significant at all.

the silence lingered between you, stretching with each step as the station gradually came into view. the sky had dimmed to a deeper shade of blue, the distant hum of the city settling into its evening rhythm. streetlights flickered on one by one, casting pools of golden light onto the pavement, their glow catching in the strands of taehyun’s hair as he walked just a little ahead of you.

you weren’t sure why, but you found yourself slowing down, your feet moving with less urgency now that you were nearing your stop. it was strange; usually, by this point, you would’ve been itching to part ways, to shake off the exhausting push and pull that always came with being around taehyun. but tonight, the usual exasperation felt… muted. replaced by something quieter. something you couldn’t quite name. taehyun was the first to break the silence.

“well,” he said, stopping just before the steps leading down to the station. he turned to you then, hands still tucked into his pockets, his smile softer now, lacking its usual sharp edge. “guess this is where we part ways.”

you blinked, caught off guard by the sudden finality of it. but before you could even think of something to say, he was already stepping back, tilting his head slightly as he regarded you with something unreadable in his expression.

“don’t stay up too late,” taehyun added, and though his tone remained casual, there was a quiet sincerity beneath it, woven into the way his gaze lingered for just a second longer than necessary.

your fingers curled around the strap of your bag, tightening for reasons you didn’t quite understand. “yeah,” you muttered, shifting your weight from one foot to the other. “you too.”

taehyun exhaled a quiet laugh, shaking his head as if amused by your halfhearted response. then, with one last glance, he turned, descending the steps with an ease that made it seem like this was nothing more than an ordinary parting.

but as you stood there, watching his figure disappear into the station, you couldn’t shake the feeling that something had changed. that, for the first time, you weren’t entirely relieved to see him go. ꒰💐꒱ the next few days blurred into a whirlwind of endless tasks, a relentless cycle of emails, phone calls, and meetings that left little room for anything else. mornings bled into afternoons, and afternoons stretched deep into the night, each one spent buried under an ever-growing to-do list. it felt as if the four of you were caught in the eye of a storm—one of your own making—drowning in preparations with barely a moment to come up for air.

the student council room had practically become your second home, its once neat and organized space now overrun with scattered papers, sample designs, and half-empty cups of coffee that none of you had the energy to clean up. rolls of fabric for table decorations sat in one corner, half-unfurled and abandoned, while poster drafts covered every available surface, some marked with hurried notes and others discarded altogether. the air was thick with the scent of paper and ink, the soft hum of printers and the occasional frustrated groan the only constants in the chaos.

beomgyu and jiwon were deep into their share of responsibilities, bouncing between designing promotional posters and confirming song choices with the dj. beomgyu, ever the perfectionist, went through what felt like a hundred drafts, grumbling under his breath every time jiwon pointed out a detail he had missed. their bickering became white noise at this point—background music to the madness—though, to be fair, it was nowhere near as bad as yours and taehyun’s.

because while the two argued over shades of blue and font choices, you and taehyun had the far more tedious task of finalizing the seating arrangements and catering. it meant making endless calls, negotiating over prices, and somehow fitting everything within the budget. it meant working side by side for hours on end, forced to cooperate despite how often you got on each other’s nerves. and somehow, even in the midst of all this exhaustion, taehyun still found the time to tease you—throwing in an unnecessary comment every chance he got just to watch your patience wear thinner and thinner.

"what would you do without me?" he mused one afternoon, stretching his arms behind his head as he leaned back in his chair. "actually, don’t answer that. i already know—this whole event would be a disaster."

you didn’t even look up from your laptop. "i swear to god, kang, if you don’t shut up—"

"what?" taehyun grinned, feigning innocence. "you’d miss me."

your glare could’ve set something on fire.

but despite all of it—the chaos, the exhaustion, the relentless teasing—the ball was finally beginning to take shape. details were falling into place, confirmations were being made, and the days that once seemed endless were now hurtling towards the event itself. there was still so much to do, but for the first time, it felt within reach. the halls of the campus were practically buzzing with anticipation, filled with the kind of excitement that only came around during events like this. everywhere you looked, people were either wrapped up in their own little worlds with their significant others or fluttering around in hopeful search of their soulmates, their eyes filled with that dreamy sort of longing. laughter echoed off the walls, whispered confessions were exchanged in corners, and the air itself seemed to hum with something light and intoxicating.

it was nauseating.

you rolled your eyes, a quiet scoff slipping past your lips as you adjusted the strap of your bag over your shoulder. the entire scene before you was so painfully cliché, it almost made your skin crawl. and yet, despite the irritation bristling at the back of your mind, there was something else beneath it—something quiet, something you didn’t want to name. a strange unease settled in the pit of your stomach, an odd sort of weight pressing against your chest.

but like always, you ignored it.

beside you, taehyun walked with easy strides, hands tucked into his pockets, the usual self-assured air about him. today, the two of you were heading out to check on the venue for the winter masquerade ball, making sure the decorations were all set and that everything was coming together smoothly. with only a few days left before the event, the pressure was starting to settle in, but for now, you were stuck navigating through the suffocating atmosphere of romance filling the campus.

taehyun, ever perceptive, caught the eye roll almost instantly.

"oh? what’s this?" his voice was dripping with amusement, and when you turned to look at him, he was already wearing that insufferably smug smirk. "jealous, aren’t we?"

your head snapped towards him, shooting him a glare sharp enough to cut through steel. "excuse me?"

taehyun only laughed, clearly enjoying this far too much. "come on, it’s okay to admit it. all these happy couples, all these people finding their soulmates just in time for the ball—" he gestured lazily at the scene around you. "i get it. it must be hard, watching all this when you’re still so tragically alone."

your lips parted, utterly scandalized. "i am not—" you sucked in a breath, fingers curling into your sleeves as you struggled to find a proper retort. "oh, shut up. just because you have nothing better to do than pester me doesn’t mean you get to act like you’re above all of this."

he hummed thoughtfully, tilting his head as if he was actually considering your words. then, with a completely straight face, he replied, "oh, but i am above all of this."

you groaned, throwing your hands up in exasperation as you quickened your pace, determined to put some distance between yourself and his insufferable teasing. but, as always, he was right there beside you, matching your steps with ease, his laughter trailing behind him like an echo.

the crisp winter air greeted you the moment you stepped outside, biting at the exposed skin of your cheeks despite the layers of warmth wrapped around you. the sun hung low in the sky, its golden light diffused by thin clouds, casting long, spindly shadows across the pavement like delicate cracks in ice. you barely spared a thought for the route ahead, already expecting taehyun to lead the way towards the bus station, except, when you glanced over, he was walking in an entirely different direction, his strides unbothered, as if this was the plan all along.

your steps faltered, boots scuffing against the pavement as you abruptly came to a halt, brows knitting together in confusion. your gaze followed his path, trailing after him as he moved further and further away from the usual route. "...where are you going?" you called out, your voice carrying across the quiet afternoon air, laced with equal parts bewilderment and suspicion.

"to the venue."

his response was casual, so effortlessly nonchalant that for a brief second, you thought you had misheard him. but he didn’t stop walking. he didn’t even bother to glance back at you, hands shoved into his pockets as he strode ahead with unwavering confidence.

you blinked. once. twice. then, as if compelled by some cruel force, you turned your head slightly, following the path of his footsteps until—

your stomach plummeted.

there, parked neatly along the sidewalk, was a row of bicycles, their metal frames gleaming coldly beneath the pale winter sun. they stood like silent witnesses to your impending doom, completely harmless to anyone else—but to you, they may as well have been a death sentence.

"you're joking," you deadpanned, your voice void of any amusement, the words falling from your lips like lead.

finally, taehyun turned his head just enough to flash you a slow, lazy grin, the kind that sent warning bells clanging in your head. "nope."

"you're going the wrong way," "nope," a sharp huff of disbelief escaped you, frustration curling in your chest as you hastened your steps to catch up with him. "taehyun," you said, his name leaving your lips like a warning, like a thread pulled taut. "the station’s that way." with a swift movement, you jabbed a gloved finger behind you, pointing at the correct direction as if he had somehow forgotten the most basic detail of your usual routine.

but taehyun didn’t so much as falter. instead, he merely hummed, finally coming to a stop beside the bicycles, his movements as fluid as ever as he bent down, fingers deftly unfastening one of the helmets before straightening back up. "and the buses during noon are either overflowing with people or completely nonexistent," he countered smoothly, his voice carrying that infuriating ease that told you he had already thought this through. "so, unless you’d rather stand around for an hour getting elbowed and shoved by strangers, we’re going by bike."

your breath caught in your throat.

by bike.as in, you would have to sit behind him. on the same seat. with your hands gripping onto him for balance. close. too close.

panic flared within you like a sudden spark, igniting a wildfire of dread that spread rapidly through your veins. this was bad. this was very, very bad.

your fingers curled at your sides, tightening into fists as you scrambled for an excuse, anything that would get you out of this. "absolutely not," you blurted out, the words spilling out in an instant, rushed and firm. "there is no way i’m getting on that thing."

taehyun finally turned to you fully, one brow arching in that insufferable way that made your blood simmer with irritation. "oh?" he drawled, tilting his head slightly, his lips twitching at the corners as if barely restraining a smirk. "what, scared you'll fall?"

"no!" you snapped, far too quickly, far too defensive.

his smirk widened, amusement twinkling in his dark eyes like a cat who had cornered its prey. "then what's the problem?"

you opened your mouth, ready to throw back a sharp retort, ready to argue—but nothing came out. because you had no real excuse. not one that you could say aloud, at least.

because what were you supposed to tell him? that if you got too close, if your fingers so much as brushed against his skin, the hydrangea might bloom? that if he saw it, if he noticed, he would know?

taehyun, of course, was not one to back down so easily. he tapped his fingers against the bicycle’s handlebars, pretending to contemplate something, his expression exaggeratedly thoughtful. "hmm," he mused aloud, his tone light, almost playful. "well, if i go by myself, i’ll just have to check on the decor alone." taehyun sighed dramatically, shaking his head as if the very thought was exhausting. "and you know what that means. one second, the decorations are fine, the next, they’re a complete disaster. bows tied the wrong way, color schemes clashing, centerpieces all tilted and uneven—" your eye twitched violently.

"you're doing this on purpose," you accused, voice tight, heat creeping into your tone as frustration bubbled dangerously close to the surface.

"i have no idea what you’re talking about."

your jaw clenched.

you inhaled sharply, a single, measured breath, before exhaling just as forcefully. then, with a muttered curse under your breath, you ripped the helmet from his hands, yanking it onto your head with far more aggression than necessary. the strap snapped against your chin, stinging slightly, but you ignored it, too preoccupied with the simmering frustration roiling in your chest.

taehyun simply grinned, utterly unfazed by your obvious annoyance, and with an easy flick of his wrist, he patted the seat behind him before nudging his chin towards it. “alright, hop on.” your entire body refused to move.

standing there, feet rooted firmly to the ground, you stared at the bicycle as if it were some kind of trap, a snare carefully laid out just for you. your fingers twitched slightly at your sides, curling inward, heart drumming steadily against your ribs as your mind whirred through all the possible ways this could go wrong.

if you got on, you wouldn’t be able to avoid touching him—not entirely. even the smallest brush of your skin against his, even the briefest moment of contact, could be enough. and if it bloomed, if the petals unfurled along your wrist, or worse, his—

you swallowed hard.

the helmet suddenly felt suffocating, its strap pressing against your chin as if trying to ground you, trying to force you into action. but you hesitated, standing frozen on the pavement, unable to shake off the overwhelming weight of uncertainty pressing down on you. taehyun notices. “what? don’t tell me you’re scared now,” he drawled, amusement still evident in his voice, but there was a flicker of something else in his expression—curiosity, maybe, or just the simple act of waiting.

you scowled, snapping yourself out of your daze with a sharp inhale through your nose. you couldn’t stand here forever.

gathering whatever was left of your resolve, you stepped forward, moving stiffly as you approached the bicycle. your movements felt painfully deliberate, like you were walking straight towards a decision you couldn’t take back. then, with a slow, reluctant motion, you lifted your leg over the seat, settling yourself behind taehyun, barely touching him.

your hands hovered uncertainly in the air, fingers twitching slightly as you debated where to place them. his shoulders? his waist? no. definitely not his waist. the thought alone sent a rush of warmth up your cheeks.

finally, hesitantly, you let your hands rest lightly on his shoulders, barely applying any pressure, as if keeping yourself from pressing too close would somehow change anything.

taehyun must have felt your hesitance, because he turned his head slightly, a knowing grin tugging at his lips. “you’re gonna fall off if you sit like that,” he remarked, his voice laced with something dangerously close to amusement.

“i’m fine.”

“mhm. sure.” he didn’t sound convinced.

then, without warning, he pushed off the ground with an effortless ease, his foot pressing against the pavement before the bike lurched forward.

the sudden movement sent a sharp jolt through your entire body, a startled gasp slipping past your lips before you could swallow it down. the world tilted for a split second, the ground beneath you no longer stable, no longer unmoving, and the realization crashed over you all at once—you were on a bike, with taehyun, and you were moving. Fast.

your fingers curled around his shoulders, grip tightening instinctively, and for a brief, terrifying second, you thought you felt something stir beneath your sleeve—a faint, barely-there sensation, like a whisper against your skin. but before panic could sink its claws into you, taehyun’s voice broke through the moment. "relax," he mused, his voice carrying that ever-present amusement, like he was thoroughly enjoying your distress. "hold on tight, yeah? don’t want you flying off."

your head snapped up, indignation flaring in your chest as you gritted your teeth. "don’t move so fast, idiot! you’re gonna kill us both!"

but taehyun only laughed, the sound warm and unbothered, like the very thought of crashing was so far-fetched that it didn’t even deserve consideration. the bike swayed slightly as he shifted his weight, adjusting the pedals with a practiced ease, and your breath hitched, grip tightening further.

"oh, come on," he sighed dramatically, though there was no mistaking the grin in his voice. "have a little faith, will you?"

you squeezed your eyes shut for a brief second, inhaling sharply as you willed your nerves to settle. the cold air whipped past your face, stinging against your skin, but that was the least of your worries right now, no, what truly had your heart in a vice grip was the fact that you were still on his stupid bike, still pressed far too close to taehyun, still painfully aware of every little movement he made.

you prayed silently, desperately to whoever was out there listening that you wouldn’t fall off to your untimely demise, that you wouldn’t end up sprawled across the pavement in a tangled heap of limbs and regret. but, more than anything, you prayed that your skin wouldn’t touch his. not even for a second. not even the faintest brush.

your hands remained stiff where they rested on his shoulders, fingers curled awkwardly, hovering more than gripping, as if maintaining even the smallest gap would somehow be enough to stop the inevitable. it was ridiculous. stupid, even. and yet, you couldn’t shake the fear that if your wrists so much as grazed against him, the delicate petals of a hydrangea might bloom in betrayal.

taehyun, of course, was completely unaware of your silent internal crisis. if anything, he seemed to be enjoying himself, weaving through the streets with an effortless ease, as if he wasn’t carrying the weight of someone actively trying not to touch him. the bike glided smoothly along the pavement, tires humming against the road, and despite the sheer panic buzzing in your chest, you had to admit—he was good at this. confident. steady. in control.

not that you would ever tell him that.

“you’re awfully quiet back there,” taehyun noted after a moment, his voice laced with amusement. "don't tell me you're actually scared."

you scowled, even though he couldn’t see it. “i'm not scared,” you muttered through gritted teeth.

"right," he drawled, clearly unconvinced. "is that why you’re holding onto me like i’m your last hope for survival?"

your cheeks burned. "i’m most definitely not—"

before you could finish, he suddenly shifted his weight again, making a sharp but controlled turn onto a smaller road, and you barely swallowed down a yelp, fingers tightening against his shoulders by instinct.

taehyun laughed, a full, delighted laugh that rang through the air like a bell. "see? told you to hold on tight."

if the threat of a hydrangea blooming on either of your wrists wasn’t dangling over you like a guillotine—if it wouldn’t immediately make it known to taehyun that you were soulmates—you would have already smacked him straight to the ends of the earth without hesitation.

but, as it stood, you could only grit your teeth and endure, willing yourself to focus on anything else, anything other than the warmth radiating from where your fingers clutched his shoulders, anything other than the way his laughter curled around you like an infuriatingly bright ribbon. thankfully, after what felt like an eternity of praying, of resisting the urge to strangle him, of cursing whoever decided bikes were a viable mode of transportation, the venue finally came into view.

and it was… perfect.

even from the outside, the building exudes elegance, standing tall with its grand, arched windows and smooth stone façade. the entrance is framed by a set of wide, ornate double doors, the deep mahogany polished to a gleam, reflecting the soft, winter light. despite the season, the space feels warm and inviting, as if it had been plucked straight out of a fairy tale and placed in the heart of the city.

the mere thought of the upcoming event—the swirling gowns, the mystery of masked faces, the way the night will undoubtedly hold something unforeseen—sends a strange sensation curling in your chest. something close to anticipation, but not quite.

you quickly shove the feeling aside, choosing instead to focus on the fact that you have, miraculously, survived the journey in one piece.

taehyun rolls the bike to a stop just outside the entrance, planting his foot down to steady you both before tilting his head back slightly. "see?" he hums, the smugness practically dripping from his voice. "told you i'd get us here alive."

you roll your eyes, exhaling sharply as you finally hop off his godforsaken bike, your legs feeling slightly wobbly beneath you. stretching your arms over your head, you try to shake off the lingering tension, as if that might somehow erase the memory of the past ten minutes clinging onto taehyun for dear life.

taehyun, of course, was completely unaffected, effortlessly swinging his leg over and parking the bike right near the entrance. you followed suit, brushing your hands against your coat, as if smoothing out invisible creases, before the two of you step forward, pushing through the grand double doors and into the venue.

and the minute you do, it's… everything. you step further into the ballroom, your gaze sweeping across the breathtaking transformation before you. for a moment, you allow yourself to take it all in—the warm, golden light filtering through the chandeliers, the way the sheer, icy-blue drapes cascade from the walls like frozen waterfalls, the way the entire space shimmers with an almost dreamlike quality.

it feels unreal. after all the planning, the endless meetings, the stress and exhaustion of making sure everything fell into place… it’s finally here. almost.

taehyun lets out a low whistle beside you, shoving his hands into his pockets as he surveys the room. “not bad,” he muses, tilting his head. “almost looks too good, actually. like if someone breathes wrong, the whole thing will fall apart.”

you scoff, “let’s hope that doesn’t happen, then.”

as if summoned by your words, one of the hired decorators suddenly calls out, struggling with a particularly stubborn garland that refuses to stay in place. without hesitation, taehyun strides over, sleeves rolling up as he offers a hand, his sharp eyes quickly assessing the situation. you follow, stepping in to adjust a centerpiece that’s slightly off-center, making sure every little detail is aligned to perfection.

but as you reach for the delicate arrangement, your gloves—thick and slightly cumbersome from the cold—made it difficult to adjust the smaller details. you hesitate, glancing down at your hands before exhaling softly. with a swift motion, you tug them off, tucking them into your coat pocket. bare fingers now meeting the cool surface of the table, you press forward, ensuring everything was as precise as possible.

it took a while, moving from one area to another, helping the staff tweak small things here and there—fixing a misplaced bow, adjusting the arrangement of fairy lights along the balcony railing, making sure the candles in the lanterns were evenly spaced. the chill in the air bites at your exposed skin, but you barely register it, too focused on making sure everything is just right.

but then, just as you’re adjusting the placement of one of the floral centerpieces, your fingers freeze mid-motion.

blue hydrangeas.among the delicate clusters of winter roses and baby’s breath, the soft, cerulean petals stand out like tiny fragments of the sky, woven seamlessly into the arrangements, as if they belonged there all along.

your heart stutters.

you turn to taehyun, pointing at the flowers, your voice carefully neutral. “since when were these part of the arrangement?”

he follows your gaze, eyes landing on the hydrangeas, before he shrugs with an easy, unconcerned expression. “i don’t know. added them to the mix since i thought they’d look really pretty.”

you swallowed, shifting your weight from one foot to the other, fingers absently curling onto the fabric of your coat sleeve. they were just flowers. nothing more. just a simple, aesthetic choice. that’s all.

and yet, you couldn’t shake the feeling that the universe was laughing at you.

at one point, you found yourself untangling a mess of fairy lights that had somehow gotten knotted beyond reason. your fingers worked through them carefully, but the knots were stubborn, refusing to budge no matter how gently you pried them apart. frustration bubbles up in your chest as you huff, brows furrowing in concentration.

and then, without warning, taehyun’s hands appear beside yours.

your breath stills, body going rigid, heart lurching into your throat as his fingers slip effortlessly into the tangled mess. for one agonizing second, panic flares beneath your skin—what if you touch? what if, just for a moment, his fingertips graze yours? what if—

but before the thought can spiral any further, before disaster can strike, he’d already flicked his wrist, unraveling the last of the tangles with infuriating ease, his hands retreating just as quickly as they arrived. "you're too slow," taehyun teases, a smug grin tugging at his lips.

you exhale sharply, a breath you hadn’t realized you’d been holding, forcing yourself to relax as you straighten. you narrowed your eyes at him, trying to will away the lingering tension in your spine, but before you could snap back with something equally smug, he was already walking off, adjusting the final row of lanterns along the walls like nothing had happened. time slips by unnoticed as you both continue, making minor adjustments, ensuring that every single detail was as perfect as it could be. and when you finally step back, surveying the entirety of the ballroom, it hits you—this is it. it was done.

everything was set.

with a slow, satisfied exhale, you turned to taehyun, who stood a few feet away, hands on his hips as he scanned the space with an approving nod. "not bad," he mutters, more to himself than to you.

"not bad?" you echo, raising a brow. "try amazing."

taehyun chuckles, shaking his head before motioning towards the stage. "c’mon, let’s sit for a bit before heading back. i think we earned it."

you don’t argue, your feet already aching from standing for so long. together, the two of you made your way towards the stage, slipping past the elegant centerpieces and rows of carefully arranged chairs. as soon as you reach the steps leading up to the platform, you drop down onto the edge of it, stretching your legs out with a quiet sigh. for a moment, neither of you spoke, simply taking in the sight before you. the ballroom, once a hollow, undecorated space, now glows under the golden hue of the chandeliers, the candlelight flickering against the polished floors, the sheer drapery billowing gently with the faintest movement of air. the hydrangeas—those damned, perfectly arranged hydrangeas—stood out among the floral displays, their deep blue petals catching the light in a way that made them look almost otherworldly.

it was beautiful. truly.

and yet, as your eyes flicker to taehyun, who sits beside you on the stage steps, you find the weight of his gaze is already on you.

your breath catches in your throat.

his eyes held a certain softness to them, something quiet and knowing, as if he had been watching you for longer than you realized. it sends a strange, unwelcome warmth creeping up your neck, and before it can spread any further, you quickly tear your gaze away, looking straight ahead instead.

"the flowers," you murmur, forcing the words out before the silence stretches too long. "they're really pretty."

you didn’t look at him when you said it. you didn’t dare.

but taehyun, who kept his gaze trained on you, only smiles—slow and fond, something unreadable flickering behind his eyes.

"yeah," he says, his voice impossibly gentle. "really pretty indeed." the silence stretches between you again, heavier this time, though you refused to acknowledge it. you kept your gaze fixed ahead, determined to avoid taehyun’s eyes, pretending that the steady warmth of his presence beside you wasn’t throwing you off balance.

you shift slightly, putting a little more distance between you. it wasn’t much, but it was enough to make you feel like you could breathe properly again.

and then, taehyun spoke.

"say…" his voice was casual, almost too casual, but there was a lilt of something unreadable beneath it. "do you already have your date for the winter ball?"

your fingers, still idly toying with the edge of your sleeve, still at his words. you scoffed, more out of reflex than anything, before rolling your shoulders in an attempt to feign nonchalance. "i’ll be too busy," you say, as if that was the most obvious thing in the world. "you know, making sure everything goes smoothly. unlike you, who’ll probably spend the whole night slacking off."

taehyun huffs out a laugh, shaking his head. "still have no faith in me?" he says, placing a dramatic hand over his chest. "and here i was, thinking you’d at least take a break to enjoy the night."

"not happening."

"oh, come on," he drawls, nudging your arm with his elbow. "you mean to tell me that out of everyone in the entire school, no one's lined up to ask the vice president to be their date?"

"i don’t know, kang," you deadpan, finally glancing at him, only to be met with his smug little smirk. "why don’t you take a wild guess?"

his smirk deepens, a flash of white against the dim glow of the fairy lights. “ouch,” taehyun drawls, tilting his head slightly as he watches you with playful intent. “so, what, are you just gonna spend the whole night running around, making sure forks are perfectly aligned or something?”

you let out a huff, crossing your arms over your chest, trying to ignore the way his teasing lilt sends an unwelcome flutter through your stomach. “someone has to,” you counter, lifting your chin in defiance.

taehyun hums, a quiet sound that vibrates in the space between you, and for a moment, his gaze flickers—just for a fraction of a second, like he’s thinking about something, weighing his words before he speaks. and then, after a pause that stretches just long enough to make you shift uncomfortably, he says, voice smooth, casual, yet somehow deliberate.

“well, if you don’t have a date… then go with me.”

the world seems to tilt beneath you. your breath stills, caught somewhere between your lungs, your entire body locking into place as if you’ve been turned to stone. the words didn’t register at first—not fully, not properly—because there was no way he just said that.

but then, taehyun’s eyes were on you, unwavering, unreadable, and suddenly, it was real.

your head snaps towards him so fast that your vision blurs for a second, a sharp jolt running down your spine from the sheer force of your reaction. “what?”

taehyun doesn’t laugh. he doesn’t smirk, doesn’t follow it up with some teasing remark like you expected him to. instead, he just looks at you, gaze steady, unwavering. there was something different in his expression—something softer, something that sent your heartbeat into an erratic, stuttering rhythm that you couldn’t seem to control.

he tilts his head slightly, brows lifting in the faintest hint of amusement, but his voice remains even, genuine, when he repeats, “be my date for the winter ball.”

and that’s when it truly sinks in.

taehyun wasn’t joking.

he wasn’t messing with you, not throwing out an empty invitation just to get a reaction out of you. he was asking—really asking.

your pulse pounds so loudly in your ears that you almost missed the way his fingers tapped idly against his knee, the only sign that he might not be as unaffected as he looked.

you stare at him, mouth opening, then closing, then opening again, but no sound comes out. your brain was short-circuiting, struggling to process this new reality, to make sense of the fact that kang taehyun—the sharp-witted, ever-teasing, infuriatingly smug student council president—just asked you to be his date.

and what’s worse was he was still looking at you like he was waiting for an answer. your throat feels dry as you blinked rapidly, the weight of his words settling over you like a thick, suffocating fog. you struggle to find your voice, to piece together a response that doesn’t make you sound completely and utterly unhinged, but all that comes out is a broken, stuttering—

“w-why are you asking me?”

taehyun stiffened, just slightly.

it was barely noticeable; the way his shoulders tensed for half a second before he exhales slowly, as if trying to compose himself. and then, just like that, the boy in front of you suddenly wasn’t quite as composed as before.

he clears his throat, glancing away for a moment, his fingers absently picking at an invisible thread on his sleeve. “well,” he starts, voice a little quieter now, a little less teasing. “i just thought… i mean, you’re always so busy with everything—running around, making sure everything is perfect, taking care of things no one even notices..”

taehyun pauses, pressing his lips together as if debating whether to continue, but then he sighs and pushes forward, gaze flickering back to you.

“i guess i just wanted you to have a reason to enjoy it, too. with me.”

his words hung between you, soft yet unbearably heavy. and maybe it’s the way he says it, so matter-of-factly, like it was the most natural thing in the world—like it was obvious, like it was something he’s thought about before.

maybe that was what left you speechless.

your lips part before you could stop them, the words slipping past your tongue in a breath, barely louder than a whisper—fragile, uncertain, like a secret not meant to be spoken aloud.

"that’s it..?"

the moment they left your mouth, you realized your mistake. taehyun stilled.

it was subtle at first, just a flicker of something unreadable passing through his eyes, a split-second shift in his posture, the faintest tension in his shoulders. but then the silence swells, thick and suffocating, pressing against your lungs like a weight you couldn’t shake off. your own breath falters, hitching ever so slightly, and you swore you could hear the soft, sharp inhale taehyun took in response.

he didn’t expect that.

and neither did you.

and you didn’t know what was worse—the fact that you let it slip or the fact that taehyun seems so thrown off by it.

his fingers twitched at his sides, just the barest movement, but you noticed. you noticed the way his lips parted slightly, as if he had something to say, only to press them together again, hesitation flickering behind his sharp gaze.

then, finally—

"do you really want me to say it?"

taehyun’s voice was softer this time, lower, laced with something heavier, something cautious, yet impossibly steady. his gaze never wavers, eyes locked onto yours with an intensity that sent a sharp jolt down your spine.

you didn’t realize you’ve stopped breathing until the air rushes back into your lungs all at once, too fast, too sharp. because he was close again, too close, and the space between you felt thinner than paper, more fragile than glass.

and as if the moment wasn’t already dangerous enough, he leaned in. not much, just a fraction, just enough to make the air around you shift, just enough that you could feel the heat radiating off his skin, just enough that you panic.

you shifted back almost instantly, pressing yourself further against the stage as if it’ll somehow create more distance, more space, more room to breathe. but all it did was make your flustered state even more obvious, the warmth on your cheeks burning deeper, spreading to the tips of your ears.

taehyun notices.

his eyes flicker, his lips twitch, and for the briefest moment, he almost looks amused—like he caught onto something, like he learned something. but there was something else beneath it, something more hesitant, more careful, as if he was testing the waters, as if he was waiting for you to stop him.

"do you really want to know why i asked you?"taehyun’s voice was impossibly softer, if that was even possible, barely above a whisper, yet it crashes into you like a tidal wave. your stomach twists, your hands curling into the fabric of your coat, as if that might somehow ground you, as if that might keep you from spiraling any further into whatever this is.

the space between you grew smaller, inch by inch, breath by breath. it was agonizingly slow, deliberate in a way that made your pulse pound against your ribs, making your breath hitch at the back of your throat. he wasn’t just leaning in, he was watching you—taking in every flicker of emotion that crossed your face, every shallow inhale, every unspoken thought that lingered in the air between you. you couldn’t do this.

the weight of his gaze, the closeness, the way his voice curled around the edges of something unspoken—it was too much. your breath was coming in short, uneven bursts now, your heartbeat hammering loudly in your ears, and you know, you know, if you stayed here any longer, if you let him get any closer, you were going to fall into something you wouldn't be able to climb back out of. so you move.

your legs pushed you up before you could think twice, a desperate attempt to escape the heavy pull of his presence. but you barely take a step before—

warm hands hold around your wrists. your world tilts.

not in the way it had earlier, when taehyun had sent his bike into motion and nearly launched you both into the afterlife, but in a way that felt heavier, deeper—like the very foundation of your understanding has cracked beneath your feet, sending you spiraling into something you weren’t prepared for.

because there, just above the place where his fingers wrap around your wrist, something was blooming.

not metaphorically, not in some abstract, romantic sense, but literally.

soft blue petals unfurled against your skin like a whisper, delicate yet impossibly real. a hydrangea, its blue hue rich and vibrant, appearing right where his touch lingered, as if drawn forth by the warmth of his hand against your bare wrist.

and before you could even comprehend it, before the weight of what’s happening can fully settle, you see it—

another one.

on his wrist.

a mirror to yours.

your breath stutters.

a sharp, unsteady inhale rushes through your lungs, but the air felt thick, too thick, like the moment itself was pressing down on you, sinking into your bones, refusing to be ignored. you couldn't move. couldn't breathe. couldn't  think. the world has shrunk down to this single, impossible reality, this moment suspended in time where nothing existed but this.

taehyun sucks in a breath.

his grip on you falters, just slightly, but it was enough. enough to tell you that he was feeling it too—the way the air has shifted, the way the ground no longer felt steady beneath your feet. and when you forced yourself to look at him, to really look at him, what you saw made your stomach twist.

he was frozen.

taehyun, who always had something to say, who teased and taunted and never hesitated to throw a playful jab, was speechless.

his eyes were wide, dark pupils blown with something unreadable, something teetering between disbelief and sheer, undiluted shock. his lips parted, then pressed together again, as if he was trying to find the right words but coming up completely empty.

he blinked once.

twice.

then, slowly, almost hesitantly, his gaze dropped back down—to where his hand still holds your wrist, then to where the hydrangea had bloomed against his skin.

the proof.

the impossible, undeniable proof.

you didn’t know how long you both stood there like that, suspended in the moment, locked in place by something you didn’t yet have the words for. the silence between you was deafening, thick and weighted, pulsing with something neither of you know how to name.

“what…” taehyun’s voice finally comes, but it was quiet. too quiet. fragile.

“what just—”

but he didn’t finish. didn’t have to. because the answer was right there, imprinted against your wrists, marking you both in a way that cannot be ignored. “you’re my soulmate?”you couldn’t speak.

you couldn’t reply.

you couldn't do anything.

the weight of reality crashes down on you with an intensity that made your head spin, your breath hitching painfully in your throat. the room suddenly felt much too small, the air thick and unsteady, pressing in from all sides as if the universe itself was forcing you to acknowledge the truth—the truth that had been lingering just beneath the surface for weeks, waiting, biding its time, until this exact moment. until now.

taehyun knows.

he finally knows.

and you didn’t know what was worse—the fact that you kept it from him, or the fact that deep down, a part of you had always known this moment would come. you had feared it, dreaded it, had told yourself over and over again that you were prepared for it, that you had built up enough walls to keep yourself safe when the inevitable finally arrived. but standing here now, under the weight of his gaze, you realize you weren’t prepared at all. your body refused to move. your fingers, still curled slightly from where they had almost—almost—reached back for him, felt like they were frozen in place, caught between instinct and hesitation. the silence between you was so thick, so deafening, it drowned out every other sound in the room, leaving only the frantic pounding of your own heartbeat, a desperate, uneven rhythm that betrays every attempt at composure.

taehyun was just as still, just as caught in the moment as you were. his expression was unreadable, his lips parted slightly as if he wants to say something but doesn’t know where to start. his gaze flickers down to his wrist, his breath visibly hitching when he takes in the intricate petals of the blue hydrangea, now settled against his skin like an unspoken truth that neither of you can deny. his fingers twitch once, twice, as though testing to see if the mark is real, as though part of him is still grappling with the weight of what this meant.

it was real.

it had always been real.

finally, after what felt like a lifetime, taehyun spoke.

“did you know?”

his voice was barely above a whisper, each syllable laced with a quiet, underlying emotion that you couldn’t quite place. there was no anger, no accusation, nothing sharp or cutting—only something softer, something careful, something almost hesitant. it was a question, but more than that, a plea, a desperate attempt to bridge the gap between you, to make sense of the revelation that had just unraveled before him.

but still, you said nothing.

your throat was dry, your mouth refusing to form the words that sat heavy on your tongue. your breath came in shallow, uneven exhales, your fingers on your other hand curling into the fabric of your sleeve as if that alone might keep you from falling apart.

and that silence—your silence—was all he needed to know. taehyun exhales, the sound slow and measured, but you saw the way his jaw tightens, the way his fingers pressed onto your skin before uncurling again, the way his entire posture shifted ever so slightly as realization settled deep into his bones. his face remained composed, but his eyes—his eyes that have always been so sharp, so piercing, so impossibly hard to fool—betrayed him entirely.

“why…” his voice faltered, catching slightly before he swallowed and tried again, this time more resolute, more certain. “why didn’t you tell me?”

taehyun took a single step forward, slow, hesitant, and careful in a way that made your stomach twist with unease. it was as if he was afraid that any sudden movement would send you running, as if he was walking on fragile ground, unsure of what might shatter beneath him.

you felt your breath catch, the air between you growing heavier, charged with an intensity that made it impossible to look away.

“how long have you known?”

your hands trembled, the weight of his words pressing down on you like a force you couldn't  escape. you swallowed hard, forcing down the lump in your throat, willing yourself to find your voice, to say something, anything.

“i…” the word barely made it past your lips before you had to clear your throat, forcing yourself to steady the shake in your voice. “since about… two weeks ago…”

taehyun breathed in sharply, his expression flickering with something you couldn’t figure out, something shifting, something unraveling. you watched as his gaze drops slightly, as though he was replaying every moment, every conversation, every fleeting glance from the past two weeks with a new understanding.

and then he laughs.

soft, breathless, light as air.

not in mockery, not in disbelief, not with amusement, but something else entirely.

relief.

taehyun’s shoulders eased, his posture relaxing just slightly as the realization settled deep within him. he lifted his free hand, pushing back the hair that had fallen into his eyes, before shaking his head with a quiet chuckle.

“i knew it,” he murmured, more to himself than to you, as if the words had been lingering in the back of his mind all this time, just waiting to be spoken. “so this was why… why i’ve always felt this… pull towards you… no matter how much you tried to push me away.”

his voice was filled with certainty, with something raw, something so achingly sincere that it makes your breath stutter in your chest.

because you know exactly what he meant.

that pull.

the way your eyes always found him in a crowded room, the way his voice had always cut through the noise, the way his laughter had always settled so easily in the spaces between you. the way his presence had always been something you could never quite shake, no matter how much you tried to ignore it and tell yourself that you hated it.

and now you both know why.

taehyun takes another step forward, closer this time, close enough that the warmth of his presence began to seep into your skin, making your pulse pound against your chest.

his hand lifts, his fingers brushing against your other one, just barely, just enough to send a spark of warmth racing up your arm. it was the softest touch, barely there, but it made your entire body go still.

he hesitated for only a moment before fully taking your hand in his.

you inhaled sharply.

his grip was firm but gentle, steady but careful, like he was afraid of pushing too far, like he was still waiting for you to pull away. his thumb brushes against the side of your palm, the warmth of his skin bleeding into yours, grounding you, anchoring you to the moment.

“you feel it too, right?”

your lips part, the answer right there, right at the tip of your tongue, so close you can taste it.

but then—

panic.

it surged through your veins like wildfire, swallowing you whole before you could stop it, before you could even try to fight against it. your chest tightened, breath shallow and uneven, and for a split second, the weight of taehyun’s touch—the warmth of his fingers wrapped gently around you—became unbearable. because if you admit it—if you said it aloud, if you give in, if you let yourself fall—there would be no turning back.

no running.

no pretending.

no more hiding behind the walls you spent so long building.

your fingers twitched, your entire body tensing as if preparing to flee even before your mind could catch up. taehyun’s presence was everywhere—his touch, his gaze, the quiet steadiness of his breath filling the space between you. it was overwhelming, suffocating in a way that had nothing to do with discomfort and everything to do with fear.

so you do the only thing you know how to do.

you yanked yourself away. the movement was so sudden, so desperate, that taehyun barely had time to react before you were stumbling back, ripping yourself from the warmth of his grasp as though it burnt. his hands slipped away from yours, the loss of contact immediate, startling, like stepping into the cold after being wrapped in the sun’s embrace. but the absence wasn’t just physical—it was something deeper, something that lingered in the air between you like a wound torn open too soon.

taehyun didn’t move.

his brows furrowed, the lines of his face tightening, a flicker of confusion passing through his wide, searching eyes. his mouth parted slightly, as if he was about to say something—to ask, to reach, to hold—but you didn't give him the chance.

you didn’t even give yourself the chance to think.

you turned.

your breath hitches, your pulse roaring in your ears as your legs move on instinct, on impulse, on fear.

and then you ran.

you didn’t stop, didn’t look back, didn’t let yourself process the way your vision blurs at the edges or the way your heartbeat pounded against your chest, each thud a deafening reminder of what you’ve just done. your limbs felt weightless yet heavy all at once, like you were floating through a dream you desperately wished to wake up from. your hands tremble at your sides, curled into fists so tight that your nails bite into your palms, a feeble attempt to anchor yourself, to ground yourself against the storm raging inside you.

but there was no grounding yourself from this.

there was no outrunning the way your soul ached, the way something inside you screamed at you to stop, to turn back, to look at him just once, just for a second.

but you couldn’t.

not when his words still echoed in your mind, wrapping around your thoughts and pressing against your lungs. you feel it too, right?

not when the memory of his laughter still lingered, warm and full of relief, the sound of someone who had just found something they had spent their whole life searching for.

not when you know—when you know—that if you let yourself turn back now, you will never have the strength to leave again.

so you kept going. you push past the door, your movements frantic, your breath coming out in broken, uneven exhales as you slipped away, disappearing into the night like a shadow retreating from the light.

and taehyun?

taehyun just stood there.

his hands were still outstretched, fingers curled ever so slightly, as if still reaching for something—someone—who was no longer there. his expression was blank, his chest rising and falling with steady, measured breaths, but his eyes—his impossibly expressive eyes—were frozen in place, locked onto the spot where you stood only moments before.

and yet, despite the stillness, despite the quiet composure he had always carried so effortlessly, taehyun looked shattered. ꒰💐꒱ the night felt endless. you lay in bed, eyes fixed on the ceiling, but sleep refused to come. the weight of your actions, of everything that had unfolded just hours ago, sat heavy on your chest, pressing down like an unbearable force. you tried to shut your eyes, tried to will yourself into oblivion, but every time you did, you saw him—saw the look on his face when he realized, saw the way eyes brightened like never before.

taehyun was happy. no, he was ecstatic.

you could still hear his laugh, that breathless, wondrous kind, like the world had just revealed its greatest secret to him. i knew it… he said, voice laced with something so soft, so full of relief, as if everything in his life had suddenly fallen into place. you had never seen him like that before—never seen kang taehyun, with all his sharp wit and unwavering confidence, look so utterly and completely at peace.

and then. and then you ripped it all away.

the moment your hands had left his, the moment your body turned, his joy had shattered. you had felt it, even with your back to him, even as you pushed past the door, as you fled like a coward. you had felt the shift in the air, the quiet devastation settling in behind you.

now, as you lay in the suffocating silence of your room, you wondered if taehyun was still standing there, staring at the empty space where you had been. wondered if he was replaying everything in his mind the way you were, trying to make sense of it, trying to understand why—why—you ran.

you squeezed your eyes shut, but it didn’t help. the memory of his expression—the way his brows drew together, the way his mouth parted just slightly in stunned disbelief—burned behind your eyelids.

the ache in your chest only grew heavier, sinking deep into your bones like a weight you couldn’t shake off. it was unbearable—this gnawing, twisting feeling of guilt, regret, and something else, something even more terrifying.

because it wasn’t just taehyun’s expression that haunted you. it wasn’t just the way his joy crumbled into confusion, into hurt, into quiet devastation—it was the way he had reached for you, the way his fingers had brushed against yours so gently, so tentatively, as if he was afraid you might disappear if he held on too tightly. and in the end, you did.

you saw the light in his eyes, the unguarded, unfiltered joy written all over his face, and you destroyed it.

a strangled breath left your lips as you curled in on yourself, pressing your hands against your chest as if that could somehow hold everything in, as if that could stop your heart from unraveling at the seams. the past few weeks—every moment, every lingering glance, every teasing remark that had felt just a little too soft—they all came crashing down on you at once, suffocating in their intensity. and morning arrived too soon.

no matter how tightly you curled into yourself, no matter how desperately you tried to will the world away, time didn’t stop for you. it marched forward, indifferent to the storm that raged inside you throughout the night.

you didn’t sleep a wink—you simply drifted, slipped in and out of restless, fragmented dreams, only to jolt awake each time with his voice echoing in your head, with the memory of his warmth ghosting over your skin. you turned onto your side, onto your back, onto your stomach, but no position, no adjustment, no desperate attempt to push the thoughts away helped.

so when your alarm finally rang, shrill and unforgiving in the silence of your room, you had no choice but to face the day.

your limbs felt heavy as you dragged yourself out of bed, exhaustion pressing down on you like a weight. the mirror was unkind, reflecting back dark circles beneath your eyes, the dullness in your gaze, the exhaustion carved into every line of your face. you moved through the motions of getting ready on autopilot—washing up, dressing, gathering your things—but the entire time, your mind remained stuck on one single, inescapable fact.

you would see him today.

you would step into the council room, and taehyun would be there. and you had no idea what would be waiting for you on the other side of that door.

was he angry? hurt? indifferent? did he spend the night thinking about it, just as you did? had he regretted it?

or worse, did he realize that maybe, maybe this whole thing had been a mistake?

your thoughts clung to you as you made your way to school, each step feeling heavier than the last. the usual morning sounds—the chatter of students, the rustling of papers, the distant ringing of a bell—faded into background noise as you moved through the halls, your heart hammering with each step that brought you closer to the council room.

and then you stepped inside.

you barely had time to take in the familiar sight of scattered documents, opened planners, and the faint scent of coffee before your eyes landed on him.

taehyun.

and he… he looked hollow.

the sight nearly knocked the breath out of you.

gone was the sharp glint in his eyes, the ever-present amusement, the effortless ease he carried himself with. instead, his features were dull, tired—shoulders slumped, gaze distant as he stared down at the papers in front of him, pen loosely gripped in his hand.

the weight in your chest only grew heavier as you hesitantly stepped further into the room, the familiar scrape of the chair against the floor sounding much louder than it should have in the suffocating silence. you lowered yourself into your usual seat, forcing yourself to settle, to breathe, to act as if everything was fine.

but nothing was.

because taehyun didn’t even look at you.

not a glance. not a teasing remark. not even the usual exasperated sigh when you made a little too much noise pulling out your notes. nothing. he simply remained as he was, unmoving, his gaze still fixed on the papers before him as if they held the answers to something greater, something deeper, something that could explain why.

and the absence of his attention, of his presence, of him—stung far more than you ever anticipated.

you swallowed hard, fingers curling into your lap, nails pressing into your palms as you willed yourself to keep your expression neutral, to not let the weight of your own guilt show. but the silence stretched, pressing down on you like a vice, wrapping itself around your throat until you thought you might suffocate under it—

“what’s with you two?”

the voice cut through the tension like a blade, startling you from your spiraling thoughts.

beomgyu.

you turned your head just slightly, enough to see him watching the both of you with furrowed brows, arms crossed over his chest. his gaze flickered between you and taehyun, sharp, calculating, observant.

beside him, jiwon leaned back in his chair, one elbow propped on the table as he arched a brow. “yeah, seriously. it’s weird in here.” he gestured vaguely between the two of you, lips pulling into a frown. “you guys didn’t, like, mess up the decor together yesterday and made a pact of silence, right?”

you flinched.

taehyun didn’t even blink.

beomgyu’s frown deepened. “okay, what the hell. what is going on?”

you spoke—too forced, too strained. “nothing.”

“bullshit.”

jiwon scoffed, nudging beomgyu with his elbow. “look, man, maybe they’re just in a bad mood.”

beomgyu didn’t look convinced. but taehyun didn’t give him a chance to press further, because before beomgyu could open his mouth again, he quietly cleared his throat, finally shifting, finally moving—only to stand from his seat, pushing his chair back with slow, deliberate movements.

“i need some air,” taehyun muttered, and just like that, he walked out, and now it was your turn to be left dumbfounded and hurt.

the days leading up to the ball passed in a blur, but the weight in your chest remained the same. if anything, it only grew heavier, sinking deeper into your bones with each passing moment.

and throughout it all, taehyun didn’t speak to you. to anyone, rather.

he wasn’t gone, not physically—he was still here, still doing his work with the same meticulous precision, still showing up early, still staying late. but he was missing in a way that was impossible to ignore, and the weight of it pressed against you, suffocating and relentless.

and it wasn’t just you who noticed. at first, beomgyu had been the most vocal about it. he had tried everything—nudging taehyun’s shoulder playfully, cracking jokes that usually earned him an exaggerated eye-roll or a deadpan retort, even deliberately messing up the seating chart just to get a reaction. but nothing worked. taehyun barely reacted, only offering the occasional hum of acknowledgment or a clipped, indifferent response before returning to whatever task was in front of him.

he had always been diligent, always the type to follow through with his responsibilities, but this was no longer dedication, this was detachment.

"seriously, what is his problem?" beomgyu had muttered under his breath one afternoon, throwing his pen onto the table with a frustrated sigh. he turned towards you then, his brows furrowed, gaze sharp. "he’s been acting like a ghost for days.”

your breath caught in your throat, fingers tightening instinctively around the clipboard in your lap.

jiwon, who had been watching the entire exchange with thinly veiled curiosity, shifted in his seat, drumming his fingers idly against the desk. "maybe he’s just tired,” he mused, though even he didn’t sound convinced.

beomgyu scoffed, shaking his head. "no. no, this isn’t tired—this is something else. he’s not just quiet, he’s—” beomgyu hesitated, frowning as he searched for the right word before finally settling on, “empty.”

and god, wasn’t that the truth?

taehyun had always been level-headed, composed, but never like this. never so distant. his sharp wit and effortless charm had dulled into something barely there, and the shift was so stark, so jarring, it left an undeniable hollowness in the air.

you wanted to say something, needed to say something. but what could you possibly say? that it was your fault? that you had seen the light in his eyes, the happiness that had appeared in his features when he first saw the flower on both your wrists, and how you crushed it beneath your own fear?

the weight of your own cowardice sat heavy on your shoulders, suffocating, unbearable. so you said nothing.

the ball was only days away. the decorations were finalized, the arrangements had been double-checked, and everything was falling into place, piece by perfect piece. and yet, for all that careful planning, for all the progress and preparation, everything still felt like it was falling apart. ꒰💐꒱ the night of the ball finally arrived.

golden lights illuminated the grand hall, casting a soft, ambient glow that seeped through the tall windows, flickering like distant stars against the darkness of the evening. inside, the sound of laughter and lively chatter drifted through the open doors, mingling with the faint melody of a waltz playing from within. everything was perfect—just as the council had planned, just as everyone had spent weeks ensuring.

but you simply stood outside.

your fingers curled around the delicate mask in your hands, the material pressing against your skin. the evening breeze brushed against your shoulders, carrying with it the distant hum of celebration, but you couldn't bring yourself to move forward, to step inside and immerse yourself in it all.

your dress, a simple yet breathtaking gown, clung to your frame in all the right places, accentuating without overwhelming, elegant without being extravagant. the fabric, a soft black satin that shimmered under the moonlight, cascaded down your figure in smooth waves, pooling ever so slightly at your feet. it was understated, refined, beautiful, and yet, despite how perfectly it fit, despite how much care had gone into choosing it, you had never felt more out of place.

you had spent days, weeks, preparing for this night. every detail had been planned, every decoration meticulously arranged. this was supposed to be a night of celebration, of triumph—a culmination of all the hard work the council had poured into making this event a reality.

but the thought of stepping inside, of weaving through the sea of masks and laughter, of pretending that everything was fine? it terrified you.

because you didn’t know how you would feel once you see him tonight. and perhaps, worse than that, you didn’t know if you even would.

your stomach twisted painfully, an ache that no amount of deep breaths could ease. would taehyun even be here? had he decided to stay away, just as you had considered doing? or would he be inside, blending into the crowd, masked and distant, just another face in a room full of strangers?

or would he be there, looking the same as always, standing in a corner with that quiet confidence, that knowing gaze, that presence that you could never quite shake, no matter how much distance you tried to put between you?

your heart pounded at the thought.

you had spent the past week avoiding his eyes, ducking away from his presence, watching helplessly as he withdrew further and further into himself. and yet, even as he distanced himself, even as the banter faded and the stolen glances disappeared, he never confronted you. never pushed, never asked for an explanation.

but tonight, there would be no desks between you, no schedules to hide behind.

if taehyun was here—if he sees you—then there would be no more avoiding it.

the weight of that realization sat heavy in your chest, pressing down, making it harder and harder to breathe.

you squeezed your eyes shut, willing yourself to move, to take a single step forward.

but your legs felt rooted in place, your body paralyzed by the what-ifs, by the uncertainty, by the unbearable truth that no matter how much you wanted to run, no matter how much you wanted to hide, you wanted to see him. god, you wanted to see him.

but did he still want to see you? taking a deep breath, you steeled yourself, gripping the delicate mask in your hands one final time before slipping it over your face. the satin ribbon tied keeping it in place felt tighter than necessary, as if it was binding you in place, but you refused to let yourself hesitate any longer.

with slow, deliberate steps, you moved forward, the soft fabric of your gown brushing against your ankles as you entered the venue. the moment you crossed the threshold, you were met with a breathtaking sight—warm golden light spilling from crystal chandeliers, illuminating a sea of elegantly dressed students, their gowns and suits shimmering beneath the glow.

a small smile ghosted over your lips, a rare moment of relief settling in your chest. this was it. after weeks of planning, after endless discussions and meticulous arrangements, the masquerade ball came to life. and seeing it unfold, watching as your peers twirled across the floor, their laughter ringing through the air, made all of the exhaustion worth it. it was beautiful.

as you weaved through the crowd, exchanging polite nods and returning greetings, a sudden poke at your shoulder made you pause. blinking, you turned on your heel, only to be met with a grinning masked beomgyu, standing beside someone whose presence, even behind an intricately designed mask, was unmistakable—soobin. their hands were intertwined, fingers loosely laced together, a silent testament to their bond.

“there you are!” beomgyu beamed, his enthusiasm practically radiating off him as he gestured wildly around the venue. “you have to admit, this is pretty amazing.”

soobin, ever the calmer presence, chuckled softly before dipping his head slightly in greeting. “congratulations,” he said, his voice smooth and sincere. “everything turned out beautifully. thank you for all the effort you put into making this happen.”

before you could even respond, beomgyu huffed, dramatically tossing an arm over soobin’s shoulder. “my idea, by the way,” he interjected, puffing out his chest in pride.

soobin, despite his mask obscuring half of his face, still managed to exude exasperation as he shot beomgyu a tired look. “i know, beomgyu. you’ve told me like a billion times.”

a quiet laugh left your lips as you shook your head, momentarily allowing yourself to bask in their familiar bickering. there was something comforting about it, something steady and unchanging. but just as quickly as that warmth settled, it vanished, replaced by a dull ache in your chest. because watching them—watching the ease in their dynamic, the way they played off each other so effortlessly—it only reminded you of one person.

your breath hitched, the tightening in your chest returning with full force. you forced a smile, pushing down the lump forming in your throat. “i should, um, check on the food,” you murmured, the words slipping from your lips before you could second-guess them.

soobin gave you a small nod, and beomgyu, thankfully, didn’t press further, only giving you a playful salute as you stepped away. with each step, your heart felt heavier, your resolve beginning to crumble once again.

you barely registered the laughter, the music, the clinking of glasses around you. all you could focus on was the overwhelming weight pressing against your ribs, the relentless pounding of your own thoughts. you shouldn't have come.

but then—

but then you saw him.

it was almost cruel how effortlessly your eyes found him, how no amount of dim lighting or the sea of masks could ever make him anything less than noticeable.

taehyun stood near the far side of the ballroom, a vision of effortless poise and sophistication. his suit was a deep shade of charcoal, tailored perfectly to his frame, accentuating the sharp lines of his shoulders and the lean definition of his form. the crisp white of his dress shirt contrasted against the dark fabric, and the black tie on his collar was neatly knotted, adding to the refined elegance of his appearance. but it was his presence—the sheer gravity of him—that made your breath catch.

his mask, sleek and simple, framed his eyes in a way that only enhanced their depth, making them appear even more calculating. the dim lighting cast delicate shadows over his features, highlighting the sharp cut of his jaw, the soft curve of his lips—lips that had once smiled so easily, so playfully, but now remained pressed into a thin, unreadable line.

you stopped in your tracks. you watched taehyun, unable to look away, unable to tear your gaze from the way he stood—poised yet distant, present yet entirely unreachable. the ballroom carried on around you, the music swelling, distant conversations rippling through the air, but it all faded into nothing as your eyes remained fixed on him.

his posture was impeccable, as always, shoulders squared, chin lifted ever so slightly, an image of effortless control. but there was something different now, something restrained in the way his fingers curled slightly at his sides, in the way his weight shifted subtly from one foot to the other, as if he were caught between the instinct to move and the need to stay still.

and then, as if he could feel your gaze, as if some invisible thread had finally pulled tight between the two of you—

his eyes found yours.

and the moment they did, something in the air shifted, as if the world seemed to narrow, the sounds around you dulling into nothing more than a distant hum.

taehyun’s stare widened just slightly, the faintest flicker of surprise betraying his otherwise composed expression. and god, was he taking you in.

taehyun was looking at you—truly looking at you. not like the stolen glances from before, not with the distance he carefully put between you these past few days. this was different. this was open, raw, something achingly vulnerable slipping through the cracks of his carefully built composure.

and the way he looked at you…

it was as if he had never seen you before.

as if he were discovering something entirely new, something he hadn’t realized until this very second. his gaze traced over you, taking in every detail, every curve of your form, every shimmering fold of your gown. his lips parted slightly, his breath hitching just the tiniest bit, and even with the mask covering half his face, even with the dim lighting softening his features, you could see it—the quiet, unspoken admiration that flickered across his face.

your heartbeat roared in your ears, your body frozen in place, unable to move, unable to breathe. neither of you stepped forward, neither of you dared to break the fragile silence that had settled between you, balancing on the edge of something terrifyingly real.

and then—

he blinked.

just once.

but when his eyes opened again, something was different. something had shifted.

taehyun’s throat bobbed as he swallowed, his jaw tightening ever so slightly. his hands twitched at his sides, his fingers curling inward like they ached to reach for something—for someone. you watched as a breath, deep and shaky, left his lips, his shoulders rising with the weight of it.

and then he turned away.

the moment shattered.

the spell broke.

before you could process it, before you could make sense of the way your chest constricted so violently at the loss, taehyun pivoted on his heel, his movements sharp, hurried. his polished shoes barely made a sound against the ballroom floor as he slipped past the sea of guests, weaving through the crowd with quick, purposeful steps.

he was leaving.your heart lurched, panic flaring in your veins, the shock of it slamming into your chest like a physical blow.

no.

your breath caught in your throat, the realization settling in all at once. he was running away.

and before you could stop yourself, before the fear could paralyze you, before you could make the same mistake twice—

you ran after him.

you pushed through the crowd, rushing between the clusters of students lost in conversation, their voices nothing but a muffled blur against the frantic pounding of your heartbeat. your pulse roared in your ears, your breath coming in sharp, uneven bursts as you dodged flurries of students and pressed forward, not caring if you stumbled, not caring if you brushed too roughly against someone.

taehyun was running, and you couldn’t let him get away. not again.

your fingers clenched at the fabric of your dress, lifting the hem just enough to keep yourself from tripping, but your feet barely felt the ground beneath you. all that mattered was him. all that mattered was the sight of his retreating figure, slipping past the grand archway leading to the open night air, disappearing beyond the cascading ivy that framed the ballroom’s second entrance.

the cool night hit you like a breath of fresh air the moment you broke free from the suffocating warmth of the ballroom. the murmurs of the crowd dulled, replaced by the soft rustle of the wind through the trees, the distant hum of music fading behind you. but none of it registered, not the chill against your bare skin, not the way your lungs burned from exertion, because taehyun was still ahead, his silhouette cutting through the garden’s moonlit paths.

the silvery glow of the moon bathed everything in an ethereal light, casting long shadows along the pathway, painting the world in hushed shades of blue and silver. the neatly trimmed hedges and delicate blooms swayed gently with the breeze, their fragrance lingering in the crisp air.

your steps faltered as you sucked in a breath, throat dry, chest tight—but you couldn’t stop now. not when he was slipping away again.

so you did the only thing you could.

"kang taehyun!!"

your voice cut through the quiet, sharp and desperate, carrying through the still night air.

and just like that, he finally stopped. taehyun’s steps slowed, hesitating, before finally coming to a full halt. your fingers curled into the fabric of your gown, gripping tightly, as if grounding yourself, as if holding on to the last bit of courage you had left. you didn’t trust your voice—not when your heart was still hammering like crazy, not when the ache in your throat made it impossible to swallow. but still, you forced the words out, soft, almost fragile in the way they broke past your lips.

"please..."

the sound barely carried over the distance between you, but it reached him somehow. you knew it did.

but taehyun remained unmoving.

his back stayed rigid, his shoulders taut, rising and falling in slow, measured breaths. he didn’t turn, didn’t even so much as flinch, as if he was willing himself to stay still, as if he was caught in the same unbearable moment as you, yet refused to acknowledge it.

the silence between you stretched, thick and suffocating, heavy with the weight of all the words neither of you had spoken. it clung to the air, to the space that felt impossibly vast despite the few feet separating you.

and then, after what felt like an eternity—so slow it nearly made you dizzy—he turned around.

taehyun’s body tensed before he shifted, hesitant, deliberate, as if caught in a decision he hadn’t quite made yet. the motion was almost careful, painfully slow, as though he feared what he would see when he finally turned to face you.

taehyun’s gaze met yours instantly, locking onto you with an intensity that stole the breath straight from your lungs. the silver glow of the moon framed his silhouette, casting soft shadows over his face, over the smooth planes of his mask.

and his eyes… they held something unreadable. something you couldn’t name, something tangled between a dozen emotions, flickering too fast, too fleeting for you to grasp.

but he was looking at you.

yet for the first time, you didn’t know if that was a good thing.

taehyun’s gaze never wavered, never softened, not even for a second. it was sharp, cutting through the space between you like a blade, dissecting, waiting. and you, standing beneath the weight of it all, feeling it press into your skin, into the marrow of your bones, suddenly felt small. exposed. self-conscious.

your throat tightened, the sudden awareness of yourself creeping in, making you shift where you stood. your shoulders straightened, your hands fidgeting at your sides, as if fixing your posture would somehow anchor you, would somehow make you feel like you belonged in this moment instead of drowning in it. your tongue darted out, wetting your dry lips, yet the words—whatever words you were meant to say—refused to come.

it was silent. painfully, deafeningly silent.

now that he was here, standing before you, now that you finally had him where you had been desperate to keep him—you didn’t know what to do. what to say.

"if you're not going to say anything, then i'm leaving."

taehyun’s voice cut through the stillness, low and cold, distant in a way that sent a sharp pang straight to your chest. it was piercing, impassive—so unlike him. where was the warmth? the teasing edge? where was the taehyun who never let a moment pass without a quip, a smirk, a knowing look? where was the taehyun who once made the air between you feel light, easy? the thought hit you so hard that it sent you stumbling forward, hands moving on instinct, reaching—desperate. and before you could stop yourself, before hesitation could creep in and steal this moment away from you, your fingers closed around his wrist.

a sight too familiar.

but this time, you weren’t the one running.

this time, you were the one trying to stop him.

"wait," the word barely came out, breathless, trembling. you let go of taehyun’s wrist, and then—then, the floodgates broke. "taehyun…"

his name wobbled on your lips, barely a breath, barely a sound, but it held every ounce of desperation clawing at your chest, every ounce of regret that weighed heavy on your shoulders. your throat tightened, a lump lodging itself deep within, suffocating, unrelenting, but you forced yourself to swallow it down. because if you didn’t speak now—if you let this moment slip through your fingers like sand—you knew you’d never forgive yourself.

"i’m sorry."

the words trembled, cracked, barely held together by the fragile threads of your unraveling composure. and yet, they still weren’t enough. nothing felt like enough—not for all the pain you had caused him, not for all the hurt you had left in your wake, not for the way you had looked into his eyes that night and still walked away.

"i’m so sorry, taehyun."

his name shattered from your lips this time, breaking somewhere between a sob and a plea.

"i was stupid. i was so, so stupid."

you inhaled sharply, hands curling into fists, nails biting into your palms in a desperate attempt to keep yourself from completely falling apart. but it was no use. everything was spilling over—emotions too big, too raw, too heavy to be contained anymore. "i didn’t mean to push you away. i didn’t mean to hurt you. god, i never wanted to hurt you." your voice wavered, cracking under the weight of your own words, and you squeezed your eyes shut for a fleeting second, trying yet failing to steady yourself. "but i did."

you exhaled shakily, forcing yourself to meet his gaze even as your own blurred with unshed tears. "i hurt you, and i was too much of a coward to admit anything." your fingers twitched at your sides, aching to reach for him, aching to grasp onto something—anything—that could ground you in the midst of the storm raging inside you. "i was scared," you whispered, voice barely above a breath, the admission tasting bitter, like guilt and shame and every unsaid thing you had buried deep inside yourself for far too long.

"i was scared because i didn’t understand it," a hollow laugh escaped you, but there was no humor in it. only pain. "because i didn’t understand you." you exhaled sharply, shaking your head as if that could erase all the years of denial, all the wasted time, all the moments you had spent pretending. "from the very start, taehyun, you made me feel things i had never felt before—things i didn’t know how to name, things that made my heart race and my hands shake and my mind spin and i—" your breath hitched, a sob catching in your throat, but you pushed through it, voice trembling. "i hated you for it. or at least... i thought i did."

you felt him stiffen, barely perceptible, but you noticed it. of course, you noticed it. your lips quivered, your hands clenched, and you forced yourself to take a step forward, closing even the slightest bit of distance between you. "but it wasn’t hate, was it? it never was," you whispered, voice softer now, gentler, but heavy with the weight of every unspoken word you had swallowed down over the years, every moment you had ignored, every glance you had forced yourself to look away from.

"it was fear."

you sucked in a shaky breath, blinking rapidly against the tears threatening to spill over. "you saw through me. you knew me—really knew me—even when i didn’t want you to," another step, another shaky breath. "and i hated that. i hated that no matter how much i tried to convince myself you were nothing more than a rival, a nuisance, an annoying presence in my life, i—" you exhaled sharply, voice breaking, barely holding yourself together, "i was wrong."

you were right in front of him now, so close, yet still, he hadn’t moved. he just stood there, staring at you, silent, unreadable, unflinching.

"i was wrong about everything," your voice wavered, barely above a whisper now, but the words carried the weight of everything—of every mistake, every regret. your fingers twitched at your sides before, finally, finally, you found the courage to reach out, grasping his wrists once more with trembling hands.

"i never should've left that night," you choked out, shaking your head, tears clinging to your lashes. "i should’ve turned back, should’ve looked at you, should’ve realized what was right in front of me." a single tear slipped down your cheek, warm against your skin, but you didn’t wipe it away. "i should’ve told you then," you hesitated, voice cracking, "i should’ve told you that it was always you."

the words shattered from your lips like glass, like something irreparable, something fragile and delicate and painfully, unbearably sincere. "it was always you, taehyun." your voice trembled, thick with emotion, thick with everything you had locked away for so long, and yet, for the first time, you weren’t afraid to say it. "and i’m so, so sorry it took me this long to see it." you sniffled, the sound barely audible over the pounding of your heart, a weight lifting off your shoulders with every word that had finally, finally escaped your lips. yet, despite the relief that came with your admission, fear still gripped you, sinking its claws into your chest, twisting deep. because this—this was the part that terrified you the most. not the confession, not the rawness of your emotions spilling over, but his response. what he might say. how he might look at you now. how he might—

taehyun moved.

and for a split second, panic seized you as he pulled away from your grasp, slipping from your trembling hands. your breath hitched, your body tensed, and your mind raced with the worst possibilities, already bracing for the moment he’d turn his back on you. already dreading the sharp sting of rejection. but he didn’t leave. he didn’t take a step back, didn’t let the silence stretch too long, didn’t let the space between you grow. instead, taehyun lifted his hands, reaching for you, cupping your tear-streaked cheeks in the warmth of his palms, grounding you in the way only he ever could.

your lips parted, a sharp breath escaping as his thumbs brushed over your damp skin, gentle, deliberate, erasing the remnants of your sorrow with the softest touch. your eyes widened, searching his face, drinking in the features you had spent so long memorizing yet never truly allowing yourself to admire.

and then, without a word, taehyun reached for the ribbon of your mask, fingers curling around the delicate material before he carefully, slowly, undid the knot and lifted it away.

your breath caught, the cool night air brushing against your now-exposed skin, and before you could react, he let the mask slip from his fingers, the sound of it hitting the ground barely registering in your ears.

but taehyun wasn’t done.

with the same tenderness, the same certainty, he lifted one hand to his own mask, unfastening it, letting it fall to the earth beside yours. and for the first time in what felt like forever, he smiled. not the small, hesitant smiles you had seen him give in passing, not the careful, guarded ones he wore when he was unsure, not the polite ones he had offered in fleeting moments. no. this was real. genuine. a smile that stretched across his face, lighting up his features, reaching his eyes in a way you had forgotten was possible.

"that’s it?"

his voice was warm, teasing, laced with something light and playful—something unmistakably him.

and the moment you heard it, the moment you saw that expression on his face, it was as if every last bit of fear, every last trace of doubt, melted away.

a breath of laughter left you, a mix of relief and disbelief, and before you could even think, before you could hesitate, before you could convince yourself otherwise, you surged forward—hands finding his face, fingers threading into his hair as you pulled him in, pressing your lips to his in a kiss that was everything.

the moment your lips crashed against his, it was as if something had burst open—years of pent-up emotions, unsaid words, restless nights, stolen glances, all unraveling in a single heartbeat. and taehyun kissed you back like he, too, had been waiting for this his entire life.

his hands, still cradling your face, tightened their grip, fingers digging into your skin as if he was terrified you might slip away again. but you weren’t going anywhere. not anymore. your hands slid up to his jaw, trembling, desperate, pulling him impossibly closer. the sheer warmth of him, the way he exhaled shakily against your lips—it was dizzying. intoxicating. you were drowning, and you never wanted to come up for air.

the kiss was frantic, a collision of breaths, sighs, and need. his lips moved against yours like he had something to prove, something to make up for, something he couldn’t put into words—but you understood. you understood in the way his hands fell from your face to your waist, fingers curling into the fabric of your dress, gripping like he needed something to hold on to, something to anchor him. you understood in the way he let out a shuddering breath when you tugged at his hair, when your fingers slipped into the strands, when your body pressed flush against his.

a sharp exhale left taehyun, something like a laugh, something breathless and wrecked, and then he was kissing you harder, deeper, like he wanted to consume you, like he wanted to make up for every second lost, every moment wasted. and you let him. you let him steal your breath, let him take everything you had to give, because god, you had been starving for this. for him.

his fingers traced up your spine, slow, deliberate, and you shivered at the feeling. it was overwhelming—the heat of him, the taste of him, the way he kissed you like he was afraid you would vanish if he stopped. your back hit the edge of the stone fountain behind you, but neither of you cared, too caught up in the way your mouths moved together, in the sheer desperation between you.

when you finally broke apart, foreheads pressed together, gasping for air, taehyun’s grip on you never loosened. his fingers stayed at your waist, his breath fanning over your lips, and when you opened your eyes, his gaze was already on you—dark, burning, fond. taehyun exhaled, a quiet, breathy sound that mingled with the space between you, and when he smiled—soft, real, yours—you felt something in you finally settle.

"so... you like me." he murmured, his fingers curling just a little tighter at your waist, as if he still didn’t quite trust that you were here, that this was real.

you blinked, still dazed, still trying to catch up to everything—everything you had just spilled, everything that had just happened, everything you had just done.

"kang."

"no, no, say it." taehyun grinned, the teasing lilt returning to his voice, but there was something softer beneath it, something almost in awe. "i need to hear you say it."

heat crept up your neck, the weight of his hands still lingering on your skin, his touch burned into your memory. "i just confessed my entire soul to you, what more do you want?"

"just three little words." his voice dropped slightly, his fingers brushing along your jaw, tilting your chin up ever so slightly. "for confirmation."

you groaned, tilting your head back, but the fondness in taehyun’s eyes, the warmth in his touch, the way he was looking at you like you were all he needed, it was unfair.

"i like you, taehyun." the words left you in a sigh, as if they had been waiting to escape all along.

"yeah?"

you rolled your eyes, but your smile betrayed your feigned annoyance. "yeah."

taehyun hummed, looking entirely too pleased with himself before he leaned in again, murmuring against your lips, "about time." “i like you too.”

꒰🧸꒱ @pagelets @hoefororeo @sbnslver @missychief1404 @brrytears @saejinniestar @imlonelydontsendhelp @urlocal-moa @melmochii @jettithink, @killa-1009, @j-ji-jia, @frankghgr, @usuallyunlikelyfox @sxmmerberries @napipope-ta @bamgeutori @xylatox @hyunj00 <3

this is 1/5 from a valentine’s event with other talented and incredible moas! click here to see the full masterlist <3

[snoozify]

Me and My Husband PT3

Milf Abby x Suburban Wife Reader

Warning: Abuse, Sexism, Smut (in later part), cussing, homophobia, Men being Men, child abuse, happy ending, substance abuse, cheating.

A/N: This fic is based off the song Me and My Husband by the Queen Mitski. 16k words. Happy Valentines Day my gift from me to you (I posted it early)

tags: @glass-apothecary. @asothinking. @half-of-a-gay. @0h-basic. @antobooh. @soniiyi. @h0n3yf0rlif3. @vienwood. @icedsimpsayo. @0h-basic. @marsstupenditious. @femme-tobe. @thatgrlnany

P1 P2 PT3

Since that kiss in the pantry, everything between you and Abby had shifted in a way you couldn’t quite explain. It was subtle at first, a few extra glances, a lingering touch here and there, but it was enough to send your heart racing every time you saw her. You told yourself it was just a moment, a one-time thing—something driven by heat, by everything you’d been suppressing. But with each passing day, it became harder to deny that it was more than that.

Abby never pushed, never rushed you. She gave you the space you needed, always respecting your boundaries, even as your connection deepened. She’d always been thoughtful like that—tuned into you in a way that felt... different from what you were used to. You were used to being invisible to your husband, your needs always secondary, but Abby—Abby saw you. She didn’t just see the woman on the surface; she saw everything. And for the first time in so long, it felt like you mattered.

During the days when your husband was at work, Abby would show up at your door with Ezekiel in tow. At first, you hesitated, unsure if letting them in so often was a good idea, but the way she looked at you, with her quiet, steady understanding, made it hard to say no. And in truth, you were grateful. She would step in without you needing to ask, a quiet comfort in the chaos that was your life. While you scrambled to manage everything—dishes, laundry, endless piles of work—Abby would step in with that quiet strength of hers, taking care of the kids, ensuring they were fed and entertained, so you could catch your breath.

Abby’s presence became a small, bright light in your overwhelming days. You found solace in the way she would help you with Madison, Kimberly, Jayden and Nico, her steady hands helping with everything from changing diapers to feeding bottles to brushing little heads of hair. Ezekiel, with his quiet intelligence, would play quietly with the younger ones, offering Madison a hand when she needed it or sharing toys with Kimberly, always with that kind smile of his. They didn’t just become a presence in your home—they became a part of your rhythm, something you never thought you could have, especially with everything that had happened in your own family.

Abby didn’t just help with the kids, though. She took care of you, too, in a way you hadn’t realized you were craving. She would linger by your side when you felt the weight of everything on your shoulders, offering gentle reassurance, or simply holding your hand when you needed the comfort of another person. When you were exhausted from doing everything alone, she would make you tea, or simply sit beside you in the quiet, not asking for anything, just giving you the peace you hadn’t known you needed.

There were moments—small, fleeting moments—when you would catch yourself staring at Abby, heart full of gratitude and longing, wishing that everything could just fall into place. Wishing you could be the person she deserved without the constraints of your current life holding you back.

But every time you caught yourself, you’d pull away, guilt gnawing at the back of your mind. You were married. You had kids. You had responsibilities, and you couldn’t let your mind wander too far from the reality of it all. Abby never made you feel that pressure, though. She never forced you to make a decision, never demanded anything in return for her kindness. But you felt it—the quiet tension between the lines, the electricity building each time she came to your door, the way your heart would race when she smiled at you, when her fingers brushed against yours.

She wasn’t your escape, you reminded yourself. She was your ally, your friend, a support system in the chaos. But sometimes, when your kids were in bed and the house was quiet, you’d find yourself longing for more. Longing for the care and tenderness Abby offered without question, without hesitation. It made you wonder what it would be like to let go of all the walls you had built, to let yourself feel the freedom you hadn’t known since before you were married.

As the days turned into weeks, the boundary between what was right and what was beginning to feel so right blurred. You were falling for Abby, slowly but surely, in a way that felt both terrifying and liberating all at once. The way she made you feel cared for, seen, loved—without expecting anything in return—was something you hadn’t realized you’d been starved for, something that began to gnaw at your heart when you weren’t with her.

She was at your door every morning now, without fail. You had stopped asking for her help and had started welcoming it. It wasn’t just the kids she helped with, though that in itself was a godsend, but it was the way she made everything feel less lonely. The way her presence filled a space in your heart that you didn’t even realize was empty.

She steps inside, the door clicking shut behind her with a quiet finality. You had stopped locking it once your husband left for the day—an unspoken invitation for Abby to slip in seamlessly, filling the gaps where you were left to carry everything alone. She never questioned it, never made you feel like a burden for needing the help. She just showed up.

Trailing in behind her, Ezekiel clutches his dinosaur toy in one small hand, his other rubbing his tired eyes. The moment he spots Madison and the others, his posture shifts, his little feet already poised to run off and join them. But before he can, Abby places a gentle hand on his shoulder, her voice steady yet soft. “Say hello to Y/N first before you go play, Ezekiel.”

The boy halts mid-step, turning to face you with a sleepy grin. “Hi, Mrs. Y/N!” he says, his little wave filled with a warmth that tugs at something deep in your chest.

You manage a soft smile, waving back. “Hey, sweetheart.”

And just like that, he’s off, disappearing into the small chaos of childhood laughter filling the house. Abby watches him go for a moment before turning her attention back to you. Her expression shifts, that familiar warmth still present, but there’s something deeper beneath it, something searching. She leans back against the kitchen counter, arms crossing loosely over her chest as her gaze settles on you.

She smiles at you warm, effortless, like it costs her nothing at all. And you wish, God, you wish you could return it with the same ease. But the exhaustion, the weight of everything you carry, clings to you too tightly, wrapping around your ribs like a vice. The effort of trying to push it all aside, even for a second, feels impossible. So instead, you do what you always do—you move.

You step past her, reaching for the nearest task, something to keep your hands busy, something to focus on besides the way your chest feels too tight, besides the way she sees you.

But Abby doesn’t let you.

Her fingers curl gently around your wrist, her grip firm but careful, a tether pulling you back before you can disappear into routine again. You freeze, caught off guard, blinking up at her as she tilts her head slightly. Her brows knit together, concern etched into the softness of her expression.

"Y/N." Her voice is quiet, steady. "Smile."

The request is simple. Too simple. And yet, it knocks something loose in your chest.

You swallow, searching for some kind of defense, something that will make her let you go. "I smile," you argue weakly, but even you don’t believe it. Abby does. She always does. And she sees right through you. A quiet chuckle escapes her, something small and knowing. She shakes her head before stepping in closer, her presence grounding. "Not enough." The words settle in your chest, heavier than they should be. You open your mouth to protest, to tell her that you’re fine, that she doesn’t need to worry—but the words never come. Because before your mind can convince you to pull away, before you can second-guess it, you just… let go.

For the first time in what feels like forever, you allow yourself a moment of relief. Just one.

You lean into her, resting your head against her chest, feeling the steady rise and fall of her breath beneath you. It’s brief because it has to be, because the guilt is already creeping in but it’s enough. Enough to remind you that you are here. That you are not alone. Your voice is barely above a whisper when you finally speak. "Thank you for helping." You hesitate, gripping onto the fabric of her shirt for just a second before exhaling shakily. "I’ve never had this kind of help before."

Abby exhales softly, and without hesitation, her arms come around you, solid and sure, holding you like it’s second nature. She doesn’t tell you that you don’t need to thank her. She doesn’t try to convince you that you deserve more than this. She just holds you.

Pressing a lingering kiss to the top of your head, she rubs slow, soothing circles into your back, her voice a quiet murmur against your hair.

"No need to thank me." A pause. A promise. "I got you."

You pull away from her warmth, but not before leaning in and pressing a soft kiss to her cheek. It’s quick, almost shy, but the way she doesn’t immediately pull back makes your heart skip. The feeling lingers on your lips as you turn back to the sink, letting the familiar sound of water running and dishes clinking settle your nerves. But Abby doesn’t leave. She stays there, still leaning against the counter, her eyes fixed on you.

"How about a little picnic?" she asks, her voice quiet and gentle, but there's a warmth in it that makes you stop what you're doing for a moment.

You don't answer right away, continuing to scrub a plate with more force than necessary. The weight of her gaze stays on you, waiting.

"Just me, you, and the kids," she continues, her voice a little closer now, nudging herself into your space. "A day outside, some fresh air. No chores, no responsibilities."

You let out a sigh, turning the faucet off and gripping the edge of the sink, trying to find some balance between the pull of her suggestion and the heaviness in your chest. "I don’t know, Abby. I have so much s—"

She cuts you off before you can finish, stepping in front of you. Her hands come to rest gently on your waist, firm yet soothing, grounding you as her touch sends a wave of warmth through your body. "Just one day," she says softly, her tone unwavering. "If you don’t like it, we never have to do it again."

You stare at her, lips parting as if to argue, but the words don’t come. Your eyes flicker to the floor, fighting the rush of conflicting emotions that pull at you. The weight of everything you’ve been carrying, the endless cycle of cleaning, cooking, meeting expectations that were never yours to meet. All of it feels suffocating at times, and the thought of just one day free of it, just one day to breathe, begins to soften the edge of your resistance.

Would it really hurt?

You glance up toward the stairs, hearing the faint sounds of your kids’ laughter echoing down. The joy in their voices is so simple, so pure, it tugs at your heart. You can almost see them outside, running across the yard with the sun warming their faces, their laughter filling the air. You imagine sitting beside Abby, no pressure, no responsibilities. Just a moment of peace.

Your throat tightens, the words almost caught in your chest, but you swallow them down and take a deep breath.

"Fine," you whisper, barely audible. Then, a little stronger, with more conviction, "Let’s do it."

Abby’s expression shifts, a slow, triumphant smile spreading across her face. She doesn’t say anything else. she brushes a strand of hair from your face, her fingers lingering at your cheek.

"You get the kids ready and grab a blanket," she murmurs. "I’ll handle everything else."

You nod, a small, almost shy smile tugging at the corners of your lips, something lighter blooming in your chest. For the first time in so long, you feel something you hadn’t allowed yourself to feel in what seems like forever—hope. A tiny spark of it, something you thought might have been lost.

As you walk past her toward the stairs, you can’t help but let that smile grow a little wider, allowing yourself to believe, just for today, that maybe you deserve a break. Maybe you deserve this.

Walking into the kids' room, you pause for a moment to take in the familiar chaos. Madison and Ezekiel are sitting cross-legged on the floor, engaged in some intense game that involves making up silly stories with their toys. Their laughter fills the air, a sound that always brings warmth to your heart. Kimberly, sitting nearby, watches them with wide, fascinated eyes, her attention completely captured by whatever game they’re playing. Jayden is sitting alone, chewing on one of his toys, his little face scrunched up in concentration. Nico, meanwhile, is sleeping soundly in his crib, his tiny chest rising and falling in a rhythmic pattern, so peaceful in his slumber that it almost seems like he’s untouched by the noise around him.

As soon as Madison catches sight of you walking in, she springs to her feet with an excited squeal. "Hi, Momma!" she chirps, her face lighting up like a little sunbeam. She waves her arms wildly as if she’s just spotted you after years apart, even though it’s only been a few hours since breakfast. You smile back at her, your chest swelling with affection as you make your way over to the closet to grab a blanket for the picnic.

But before you can even reach the shelf, Madison’s face suddenly shifts, her expression turning curious as she watches you. “What’s wrong, Momma? Where are we going?” she asks, tilting her head slightly. There’s an innocent concern in her voice, a sweetness that makes your heart ache. You stop in your tracks, kneeling down in front of her. Gently, you tuck a loose curl behind her ear and cradle her small face in your palm.

“Abby is taking us on a picnic,” you say softly, letting the words settle between you.

The second the words leave your mouth, Madison's face lights up like a Christmas tree. She shrieks with glee, her little hands flailing as she jumps up and down in excitement. The sound is almost too high-pitched, but it's full of joy, and it makes your heart flutter. Kimberly, always ready to follow her older sister's lead, claps her tiny hands together and bounces in place, giggling with the same unrestrained excitement.

Jayden, who’s been quietly playing on the floor, doesn’t join in the chorus of celebration, but his face breaks into a huge grin, and a soft giggle escapes him as he watches his sisters. The room is filled with the sound of their joy, and it makes you feel lighter just being surrounded by it.

Madison, still buzzing with energy, whirls around to grab Ezekiel’s hands. “Ezekiel! Your momma is taking us on a picnic!” she practically sings, her voice bubbling with pure happiness. Her enthusiasm is so contagious that you can’t help but smile, watching as Ezekiel giggles along with her. The sudden excitement, though, is enough to rouse Nico from his nap. The peaceful silence of his sleep is shattered by a sharp, startled cry. His little face scrunches up, and the high-pitched wail echoes through the room.

Madison freezes immediately, her bright smile fading into a look of guilt as she glances at you. Her eyes widen, and she takes a cautious step back, almost as if preparing for a scolding. “I’m sorry, Momma. I woke up Nico,” she whispers, her voice small and full of regret.

Your heart tugs at the sight of her concern, her big eyes filled with worry. You quickly shake your head and smile at her, reassuring her with a soft, gentle tone. “It’s okay, baby. It wasn’t your fault.” You walk over to Nico’s crib, your arms outstretched as you lean down to lift him. His tiny body is warm and soft against your chest, and as soon as he’s settled in your arms, his cries slowly start to fade, replaced by the quiet sniffs of a baby who just needed to feel the safety of your touch.

You sway gently, rocking him in your arms as his tiny hands grip onto your shirt, and the crying gradually gives way to a contented sigh. He’s calm now, his little body melting into yours as you continue to rock him back and forth, rubbing soothing circles on his back. You whisper quietly to him, “Shh, it’s okay, Nico. You’re alright.” Before you can say anything more, Abby’s voice breaks through the soft lull of the room, her familiar tone filling the space with its calm warmth.

“Everything okay?”

You hear Abby’s voice before you see her, soft but laced with concern. You turn, finding her standing in the doorway, her brows slightly furrowed as she looks between you and the now-settling Nico in your arms. The sight of her, the reassurance in her presence, does something to you—calms you in a way you didn’t even realize you needed.

Letting out a quiet breath, you give a small nod, still swaying gently with Nico in your arms. “Nico woke up,” you explain, your voice carrying the weight of your exhaustion, but there's also a tenderness in the way you speak about him.

Abby exhales, her shoulders relaxing as she steps fully into the room. “I got Jayden,” she says softly, her voice steady, as if this is just another part of her day. She moves toward Jayden, who’s sitting on the floor, his small hands reaching up toward her with innocent eagerness. Abby crouches beside him, her grin wide as she ruffles his curls with affection. She makes quick work of slipping his tiny sneakers on, the sound of the soft Velcro and the shuffle of his small feet filling the air.

Jayden kicks his legs, giggling uncontrollably as Abby’s fingers tickle his sides. "You ready for the best picnic ever, little man?" she asks, her voice low but playful, her eyes dancing with warmth. Jayden’s response is an enthusiastic nod, his little arms flailing as he lets out a delighted squeal, clearly thrilled by the idea of a picnic. Abby finishes tying his shoes, her hands nimble and sure as she adjusts the laces.

Watching the scene unfold, you feel something shift in your chest. The way Abby so naturally interacts with your children, like she’s been doing this for years, is a kind of magic you never thought you’d experience. She doesn’t just care for them—she connects with them. She’s part of the rhythm of your home, part of your family in a way that feels effortless, yet profound. For the first time in a long while, something inside you whispers that this—that this feeling—is what family is supposed to feel like.

Abby looks up at you then, her eyes meeting yours with an unreadable softness. She lifts Jayden effortlessly, settling him in her arms as he wraps his little hands around her neck. With a smile, she murmurs, “I got everything packed up in my truck.” Her words are casual, but there’s a depth to them, like she’s offering more than just a picnic—it’s an invitation to let go, to trust, to be.

As you walk down the stairs and out the door, a wave of anxiety crashes over you. What if your husband found out? What would happen if he came home early and saw an empty, uncleaned house? What if he walked in and found you, playing house with another woman? The fear bubbles up inside of you like a knot, and your feet freeze on the last step.

This wasn’t normal. You didn’t leave the house by yourself—not unless it was for church, the grocery store, or to drop the kids off at school. Every other moment, you were expected to be there, within these walls. You weren’t allowed to do anything else, to go anywhere else. And now... now, you were stepping outside, into something that felt like freedom, but freedom that came with its own set of consequences. This house had become a prison, and the world outside felt both exhilarating and terrifying.

Abby, oblivious to the storm of worry inside you, opens the door. The kids burst through, their laughter and giggles filling the air like a bright, blinding light. They’re carefree, already caught up in the magic of the moment. But you stand frozen, caught between wanting to join them and the weight of all the “what ifs” that suffocate you.

Abby notices your hesitation, and for the first time, she softens. She turns to you, her hand outstretched. "Come on, Y/N. It’s gonna be fun, trust me."

You hesitate, your breath shaky as you look at her, then at Nico in your arms, and then back at Abby. You want to say no, but something inside you just needs a break from the constant weight on your shoulders. After a long breath, you finally give in, your fingers brushing against hers as you take her hand. It’s simple, but it feels like a step toward something you didn’t realize you were craving.

Abby gently takes Nico from your arms, placing him in the car seat, then opens the door for you. “Don’t stress yourself,” she says softly, her voice a quiet anchor against the storm inside your mind. You let out a shaky breath as she closes the car door, and her calmness is a balm to your nerves. She moves quickly, buckling in Jayden and Kimberly before getting in herself.

With a rev of the engine, Abby turns to look in the rearview mirror at the kids. “Who’s ready for our picnic?” she asks, her voice light, almost teasing.

The kids burst into a roar of excitement, their collective joy ringing in the car like a symphony. You catch a glimpse of their faces in the mirror, their wide eyes filled with happiness, and you feel a small spark of warmth deep inside.

And then Abby drives off. The world outside the window blurs into motion, and for a fleeting moment, you let yourself believe that maybe, just maybe, today could be different.

The drive there was worlds apart from the usual tension-filled trips with your husband. Instead of the stifled silence or sharp words that often accompanied car rides, there was an easy comfort in the air. The kids were talking over each other, their excited voices filling the truck without any fear of being scolded for being too loud. Madison and Kimberly were laughing, whispering back and forth in their own little world, while Jayden, always the chatterbox, babbled about whatever his little mind had come up with that day. Nico, strapped in his car seat, cooed contentedly in the back, his small hands waving in the air as if he was just as excited as the rest of them.

But it wasn’t just your kids who were enjoying the freedom of this moment. Ezekiel, Abby’s son, was in the mix, happily playing with a small toy in his lap, making little noises of his own as he watched the world whiz by outside the window. His occasional giggle blended seamlessly with the rest of the chatter, as if he were always meant to be part of this lively atmosphere. Abby glanced back at him through the rearview mirror with a soft smile, checking on him in between moments of glancing at the road, a picture of calm assurance.

What really struck you was the absence of tension. Normally, your husband’s presence on these drives would make everything feel tight and stifled, his constant reminders to keep the kids quiet, to behave properly, hovering over every conversation. But here, with Abby behind the wheel, there was no need for that. She let the kids talk, laugh, and express themselves freely, her eyes occasionally flicking to them with a smile or a gentle word to encourage their joy.

As you glanced around, you realized something you hadn’t even thought about until now. This wasn’t just a break for you, escaping the weight of everything you carried at home. No, this was a break for your children too. They were allowed to be themselves in a way they rarely got to be allowed to talk loudly, laugh without restraint, and just be without worrying about causing any disruptions. Even Ezekiel seemed to thrive in this environment, his bright eyes alight with excitement, free from the pressure of expectations that often loomed over him at home.

And Abby, in her quiet way, had helped create this space. She hadn’t just made it about giving you a break—she had also made it about giving your children something they deserved: the ability to simply exist without the constant pressure of living up to someone else’s rules. With every gentle word she spoke to them, every kind glance she shared with Ezekiel, you realized how much of a gift this day was not just for you, but for all of you.

It was rare that you got to experience this kind of freedom, and even rarer for your children. But here, in this moment, there was nothing holding them back. They were happy, carefree, and so was Ezekiel. He was part of the group, fully included in the joy of the day, just as he should be. The weight of everything else—of your husband, of the expectations, of the pressure—faded away as you let yourself sink into this rare peace. It felt like a small victory, a chance to breathe that you’d almost forgotten you needed. And it wasn’t just yours—it was something you and Abby were offering to your children, to Ezekiel, and even to yourselves.

As Abby pulls up to the park, the engine hums to a stop, and she switches off the ignition. She turns to face the kids, her voice bright with excitement. "We’re here!" she announces. The moment the words leave her mouth, the kids erupt in a chorus of cheers, their voices blending together in a symphony of joy. They scramble to unbuckle their seatbelts, barely waiting for the car to come to a complete stop before they’re ready to burst out of the vehicle.

Abby chuckles, shaking her head at the flurry of energy, before she gets out and starts helping the kids with their seatbelts. You sit there for a moment, still in the car, the realization slowly settling in. You actually did it. You actually left the house. You didn't just think about it, didn't just imagine the freedom—you did it. A mix of relief and disbelief washes over you as you take in the moment. For so long, leaving the house had seemed like an impossible feat, something you weren’t allowed to do without consequences. But now, here you were, in the middle of it, feeling something you hadn’t felt in a long time: choice.

You take a deep breath, willing the unease to dissipate, before you finally open the door and step out of the car. Abby's already setting up the picnic blanket near a large maple tree, the basket she packed full of food resting beside it. You help her lay Nico down on the blanket, giving him a moment to squirm and explore in his own little way, his tiny hands reaching up at the sky, his eyes wide with wonder at the world around him.

Madison and Ezekiel immediately take off running, their laughter carrying through the air, the sounds of their joy so pure and unrestrained. Kimberly and Jayden, not to be left behind, follow as best they can, their little legs moving as fast as they can manage, the younger ones struggling to keep up with the older kids’ energy.

Abby sits down on the blanket next to you, her arms gently wrapping around you, pulling you closer. You lean into her, your head finding its place on her chest as the peaceful sounds of the park fill the space around you. For a moment, it’s just the two of you, the sun shining down through the leaves above, and the gentle rustling of the trees.

“You’re doing great,” Abby whispers softly, her voice steady and soothing. You let out a long breath, the weight of everything you've been carrying lightening just a little. You smile faintly, feeling her warmth, her solid presence beside you. You interlace your fingers with hers, the simple touch offering more comfort than you thought it would.

You turn your gaze to the kids, watching them chase each other through the grass, their faces alight with joy. Abby follows your gaze, her voice tender as she speaks. “Look at them, having fun.” She pauses for a moment, as if reflecting on the significance of it all. “Ezekiel told me he’s not so lonely anymore, not since he started playing with Madison and the others.” There’s a softness in her tone, a quiet pride, as she looks at you, her eyes warm and open.

You look up at her, your eyes meeting hers. Her gaze is gentle, filled with understanding, and for a brief moment, the world outside of this peaceful bubble you’ve created fades away. It’s just you and Abby, here with the kids, and something deep inside you shifts. Maybe it’s the way the sunlight dances on her hair, or how her hand feels in yours, but in this moment, you feel something that’s been missing for a long time a connection, a sense of belonging, not just for you but for your children as well.

You stay in the quiet of the moment, feeling the peaceful rhythm of your breath match Abby’s. The air feels different here—lighter, freer, almost like the weight of the world hasn’t quite found its way into the space you’ve carved out beneath this tree. You look at Abby again, her gaze still soft but purposeful as she watches the kids play.

Her hand gently squeezes yours, grounding you. “I’m glad we did this,” she says quietly, as though reading the quiet thoughts you hadn’t voiced. The kids are running in circles now, a blur of limbs and laughter. It’s the kind of joy that feels contagious, so unburdened and alive. You watch them for a moment, feeling a smile tug at your lips, a warmth spreading across your chest.

“I didn’t think I could,” you admit, your voice barely above a whisper, your words directed more to yourself than to Abby. “I didn’t think I could get out. I never... I never really realized how much I needed to.”

Abby doesn’t answer right away, her attention still on the kids, but her grip on your hand tightens just slightly. It’s not forceful, just a reminder, as if telling you, I’m here. It’s all she needs to say, and you feel the truth of it settle into you. In that moment, you realize that this wasn’t just a picnic, or a break from the house, it was something far more important.

The fact that you could leave, that you could make a choice, felt like a small rebellion, a reclaiming of something you thought was lost. Abby’s right here beside you, a steady presence, and suddenly the heaviness you’ve carried for so long doesn’t seem so impossible to face.

You take in a slow, deliberate breath, the weight in your chest lifting just a little more. For the first time in a while, you feel like you’re not suffocating under the pressure of expectations—yours, your husband's, society’s.

“I don’t know how to thank you for this,” you say, voice cracking slightly, but the gratitude in your tone is undeniable. It’s a simple thing, really—just a day in the park, just a moment outside the walls of your house. But it’s more than that. It’s a chance to breathe again, to remember that there’s more to life than everything that’s been piled onto you. And Abby made it happen, without any fanfare or demand for recognition. She just... did it.

She smiles at you, that same calm smile that feels like a lifeline. “You don’t have to thank me, Y/N. Just... keep trusting me, okay?” There’s no rush in her voice, no pressure. Just an invitation, a quiet promise that she’s here for the long haul, ready to help you untangle whatever’s been holding you back.

You nod slowly, feeling the gravity of her words sink in. Trusting Abby feels easy in a way it never has with anyone else. The way she makes you feel like you matter, like your needs—your fears are valid, and worth addressing.

“I’ll try,” you say softly, squeezing her hand in return. Your gaze drifts back to the kids, who are now tumbling across the grass, laughing with abandon, their carefree spirits filling the space.

The day stretches before you, a soft, hopeful kind of promise, and for the first time in what feels like forever, you allow yourself to truly hope for more days like this—days when the weight feels lighter, when you can simply exist without the constant pressure of being everything for everyone.

Kimberly toddles over to Abby, her little feet kicking up bits of grass as she makes her way across the picnic blanket. She taps Abby’s shoulder with her tiny fingers, her face set with determination. Abby, who had been resting back on her hands, looks down at her with a curious smile.

“What is it, kiddo?” Abby asks, shifting so she’s sitting up straight.

Kimberly doesn’t say anything at first. Instead, she raises a small hand and points toward the picnic basket, her dark eyes expectant. Without a word, she clambers into Abby’s lap, settling against her like it’s the most natural thing in the world. Abby lets out a small chuckle, wrapping an arm around her instinctively to keep her steady.

“What are you after, huh?” Abby teases, her fingers brushing gently over Kimberly’s back. “You got something in mind?”

Kimberly’s little finger continues to point, unwavering. “Juice, Mom.”

Everything around you stills.

The laughter of the older kids playing in the distance dulls, the rustling of leaves in the gentle afternoon breeze fades, and all you can hear is the rapid pounding of your own heart.

You freeze, the motion of reaching for a napkin completely forgotten. Your gaze snaps to Kimberly, then to Abby, who has gone completely still beneath the weight of that single word.

Mom.

She called Abby Mom.

Abby’s lips part slightly, her blue eyes widening as she processes what just happened. Her grip on Kimberly tightens instinctively, protectively, but she doesn’t correct her. She doesn’t question it. Instead, she looks at you.

And you don’t know what to say.

Your mouth feels dry, your mind a mess of emotions you can’t even begin to untangle. Kimberly doesn’t seem to realize the significance of what she’s done—she just keeps looking at Abby expectantly, waiting for her juice like it was the most normal thing in the world to call her Mom.

Abby blinks, then clears her throat, her voice a little softer when she finally speaks. “Juice, huh?” She reaches over, pulling a small bottle from the basket before twisting off the cap and handing it to Kimberly.

The little girl beams, taking the juice with both hands and sipping happily. She wiggles a little deeper into Abby’s hold, completely oblivious to the way your entire world has just shifted.

Abby looks at you again, searching your face for a reaction, for permission, for something.

You don’t know how to respond.

Kimberly remains curled up in Abby’s lap, sipping her juice, blissfully unaware of the weight of her words. She called Abby Mom. And Abby… she didn’t correct her.

Abby shifts slightly, adjusting Kimberly so she’s more comfortable, but her eyes stay locked on you. There’s something careful, something almost hesitant in her expression when she finally speaks.

“I didn’t want to correct her,” she says quietly, watching you for any sign of discomfort.

You hold Nico close, his small, steady breaths against your neck grounding you. You should say something. Maybe correct Kimberly yourself. Maybe tell Abby that it was just a slip of the tongue, that it didn’t mean anything.

But that would be a lie.

You glance down at Kimberly, completely at ease in Abby’s arms, and then back up at Abby, who’s still waiting for your response. A part of you wants to dwell on it, overthink it, let the fear creep back in. But another part of you—the part that’s been longing for something safe, something real—pushes all that doubt aside.

You swallow, offering Abby a small, soft smile.

“It’s okay.”

Abby’s lips twitch into something like relief, and before either of you can say anything else, Madison’s voice cuts through the moment.

“Momma!”

She comes running over, her curls bouncing as she skids to a stop in front of you, practically vibrating with excitement. “Can you play in the water with me?” she asks, clasping her hands together, her wide, pleading eyes making it impossible to say no. Abby chuckles, giving Kimberly’s back a small rub before glancing at you. “Go,” she encourages. “I’ll keep an eye on Nico and Ms. Kimberly.” You hesitate for only a second before sighing, carefully setting Nico down on the blanket. The second you’re up, Madison grabs your hand, dragging you toward the lake.

“Come on, Momma!” she urges, her excitement contagious.

Jayden and Ezekiel are already in the water, splashing at each other, their laughter ringing through the air. As you step closer, you slip off your shoes, dipping your toes in first—only for a sharp chill to shoot up your legs.

“Oh-” You suck in a breath, shivering slightly before laughing. “It’s cold!”

Madison giggles at your reaction before spinning back toward Jayden and Ezekiel, kicking at the water and sending droplets flying in every direction. Jayden yelps, shrieking with laughter as he splashes back, while Ezekiel joins in with a mischievous grin.

You watch them, smiling as you move your feet in slow circles beneath the water, enjoying the rare feeling of peace. And then Madison suddenly stops. She turns toward you, her excitement dimming just a little, her voice softer now.

“Momma, I like Miss Anderson.”

You blink down at her, caught off guard. “You do?”

Madison nods, her curls bobbing with the motion. “She makes you smile,” she says simply. “And she makes us laugh.” Your heart clenches at her words, at the sincerity in her voice. Before you can respond, she hesitates, her little hands playing with the hem of her shirt. “I wish she could replace Daddy,” she murmurs, so quietly you almost don’t hear it.

Your breath catches.

Madison looks down, her fingers twisting together as her face falls. “I wish she could be our second mom,” she says, her voice just a whisper now. Then, as if she’s afraid she’s said something wrong, she finally looks back up at you, eyes glassy. “I don’t like Daddy, Momma. He makes you cry… and he’s rude.”

Your throat tightens.

She shouldn’t have to notice these things. She shouldn’t have to carry these thoughts in her little heart. You sink down to her level, your hands gently cupping her face as you take in the sadness in her eyes, the way her tiny body is tense, like she’s bracing herself.

Tears prick at your own eyes as you press a kiss to her forehead.

“Oh, baby,” you whisper, your voice breaking. “I’m so sorry.”

And then you pull her into your arms, holding her tight as she clings to you.

Madison buries her face into your shoulder, her small body trembling slightly as she clings to you. You stroke her curls gently, pressing another kiss to the top of her head as you blink away your own tears.

No child should have to feel this way. No child should have to wish for a different father, for a different life. You hold her tighter.

“I’m so sorry, baby,” you whisper again, voice thick with emotion.

Madison sniffles, her grip on you tightening before she finally pulls back, her big, brown eyes searching yours. “Are you mad at me?” she asks hesitantly, her voice so small.

Your heart shatters.

“Oh, sweetheart, no.” You shake your head quickly, cupping her face in your hands. “Never. You can always tell me how you feel, okay?” She nods, but you can see the uncertainty still lingering in her expression. You hate that she’s even questioning whether her feelings are allowed. You brush away a stray tear from her cheek before offering her a small smile. “You know what? I really like Miss Anderson too.”

Madison’s face lights up, her sadness momentarily forgotten. “You do?”

You nod, glancing over your shoulder toward Abby. She’s still sitting on the picnic blanket, holding Nico against her chest, his tiny body completely relaxed in her arms. Kimberly is beside her, contently sipping from her juice box while Abby absentmindedly runs her fingers through her curls.

It’s such a natural sight.

Like they belong there.

Like this is how things are supposed to be.

You turn back to Madison, brushing another curl behind her ear. “Yeah, baby. I really do.”

Madison beams before suddenly gasping, her eyes widening with excitement. “Can we tell her? Can we tell Miss Anderson we like her?”

You hesitate.

Not because you don’t want to tell Abby—God, you do—but because this is still so fragile. You’re still so scared.

But then you look at your daughter’s hopeful expression, and something inside you steels.

“Yeah,” you say softly, nodding. “We can tell her.”

Madison lets out a delighted squeal before grabbing your hand. “Come on, Momma! Let’s tell her now!” She tugs you toward the picnic blanket, her excitement contagious. You laugh softly, wiping away the last traces of your tears as you let her pull you forward.

As you approach, Abby looks up, a soft smile already on her lips. “You guys have fun?”

Madison nods enthusiastically, her curls bouncing as she shifts from foot to foot, barely able to contain her excitement. “Momma says she likes you!” she blurts out before you even have the chance to sit down.

Your entire body goes still.

Your breath catches in your throat as your wide eyes dart to your daughter, who is now grinning up at Abby like she just handed her the best news of her life. You swear you can hear your own heartbeat pounding in your ears, the weight of those words settling deep in your chest.

You glance at Abby hesitantly, afraid to see her reaction. Afraid that maybe she won’t feel the same. That maybe this moment—this thing between you—has all been in your head.

Abby raises an eyebrow, clearly amused as she leans back slightly, arms crossed over her chest. There’s a teasing glint in her eye, but beneath it, something else lingers. Something softer. Something hopeful.

“Oh yeah?” she muses, turning her attention to you.

You swallow hard, suddenly feeling warm under the afternoon sun, though you know it has nothing to do with the weather. You can’t bring yourself to look at Madison anymore—her innocent excitement is too much—so you keep your focus on Abby instead.

“Yeah,” you murmur, voice quieter than you intended. “I do.”

The words come out almost like a confession, one you weren’t sure you were ready to say out loud. But now that they’re out there, hanging in the space between you, you realize how right they feel.

Something in Abby’s expression shifts. The teasing fades just enough to reveal the sincerity beneath it. And then she smiles.

Not just any smile—but that smile. The kind that reaches her eyes, the kind that makes her dimples appear, the kind that makes your heart stumble over itself in your chest.

“I like you too,” she says, her voice just as soft, just as certain.

And just like that, something settles in your chest. Something you didn’t even realize had been restless all this time.

Madison giggles, clapping her hands together like she’s just witnessed the best love story unfold right before her eyes. “I knew it!” she exclaims before skipping off toward Ezekiel, already eager to share the news. But you barely notice. Because Abby is still looking at you, that smile still lingering on her lips.

And for the first time in a long time, you believe it.

The drive home was quiet—not because of the words left lingering between you and Abby, but because the kids had all drifted into a deep, exhausted sleep, their tiny bodies worn out from the excitement of the day. The soft hum of the engine filled the silence, and for a moment, it almost felt like you were driving toward something good rather than away from it.

But then Abby’s truck slowed, the familiar sight of your house creeping into view, and your stomach twisted painfully.

The streetlight outside flickered, casting eerie shadows over the driveway, and as soon as the truck came to a stop, the weight of reality crashed down on you.

You didn’t want to go back.

Your fingers curled into the fabric of your dress, your breath shaky as you stared at the house—the place that had felt less like a home and more like a cage for as long as you could remember. Today had been the first day in years that you’d felt truly free, the first day where laughter hadn’t been followed by fear, where your children could just be kids without walking on eggshells. And now, after just a few hours of warmth, of safety, of happiness, you had to step back inside and pretend none of it ever happened.

Pretend you weren’t suffocating.

Pretend you weren’t miserable.

Pretend you were someone you weren’t.

Abby must have sensed the shift in you because she didn’t move to turn off the truck just yet. Instead, she rested a hand on the gear shift, glancing at you carefully, her voice gentle when she finally spoke.

“You don’t have to do this alone, you know.”

Your throat tightened, and you forced yourself to look at her. The soft glow of the dashboard lights traced over her face, highlighting the quiet concern in her eyes, the silent promise in them.

For a moment, you let yourself imagine what it would be like if you didn’t have to go back. If you could just drive past this house and keep going—if you could give yourself and your kids a new life, one without fear.

But life wasn’t that simple.

You swallowed hard, pushing the fantasy aside before it could take root. With a deep breath, you reached for the door handle, steadying yourself. “I have to,” you whispered, more to yourself than to her.

Abby didn’t argue. She just exhaled slowly, nodding, but before you could step out, her fingers brushed over the back of your hand—a fleeting touch, but enough to ground you. “I’ll be here,” she murmured. “Whenever you need me.”

You didn’t trust yourself to respond. Instead, you gave her a small, wavering nod before finally opening the door, stepping back into the life you wished you could leave behind.

The house was eerily silent as you moved through the dimly lit hall, gently pulling the blankets up over each of your sleeping children. Their faces were peaceful, untouched by the fear and weight you carried, and for a moment, you just stood there, watching them.

Madison’s words echoed in your mind. I don’t like Daddy, Momma. He makes you cry.

You had tried so hard to shield them from this. You had done everything in your power to keep them safe, to keep him away from them when his temper flared. But was it enough? Had it ever been enough?

A deep sigh left your lips as you turned to leave the room, carefully easing the door shut behind you. But as soon as you stepped into the hallway, you heard it—the unmistakable sound of heavy, unsteady footsteps, the creak of the floorboards beneath his weight.

Your stomach dropped.

He was home.

The scent of alcohol hit you before you even saw him. And when you did—when he stepped out of the shadows, swaying slightly, his bloodshot eyes locking onto you—you knew this wasn’t going to end well.

“Where the hell have you been?” he slurred, his voice thick with drunken anger.

Your throat tightened. Did he know? Of course he did. He always knew.

“I was he—”

He lifted a hand suddenly, and before you could stop yourself, you flinched. A bitter smile twisted across his face at the reaction. “Don’t you dare,” he hissed. “Don’t lie to me.” Your mind raced for an answer, a way out, something to de-escalate before things turned worse. “I was here,” you said quickly. “Cleaning.”

It was a lie. A pathetic, obvious lie. But he was drunk—maybe he wouldn’t press it.

For a second, it seemed to work. His head tilted slightly as if considering your words, and then, just when you thought he might let it go, his expression twisted into something ugly. “Oh, okay,” he mocked, stepping back. But the momentary relief vanished as he suddenly whipped the glass bottle in his hand toward you. You barely had time to react before it shattered against the wall beside you, shards flying, the sharp scent of liquor filling the air.

Your breath caught in your throat as he stalked forward, his voice rising. “You think I’m stupid, Y/N? You think I don’t notice things?” His hands grabbed your arms, shaking you hard enough to make your head spin. “You don’t think I know you’ve been playing house with that—” He sneered, his grip tightening. “With that fucking dyke?”

Your heart pounded. He knew.

Tears pricked your eyes as he shoved you back, your spine hitting the wall with enough force to make you gasp. “You think I don’t see what’s going on?” he spat. “I saw her coming into my house. Rubbing all over my wife. Talking to my kids like she has any damn right—”

His voice blurred, rage twisting his words into something unintelligible. Your body was frozen, trapped between the wall and the fury in his eyes, as panic clawed its way up your throat.

His grip tightened on your arms, fingers digging into your skin hard enough to bruise. His breath was hot and reeked of alcohol, his words slurred but no less venomous. “You really thought I wouldn’t find out?” he sneered, shaking you again, your head snapping back against the wall. “Thought you could just run around behind my back like some cheap whore?”

Tears slipped down your cheeks, but you forced yourself to stay still, to not give him a reaction that would make things worse. Stay calm. Stay quiet. Don’t provoke him.

“I wasn’t—”

His hand moved too fast for you to react, slamming against the wall beside your head with enough force to rattle the picture frames. “Don’t fucking lie to me, Y/N!” he roared.

You flinched, your body instinctively shrinking against the wall. Your heartbeat thundered in your ears. The kids were asleep—God, please let them stay asleep.

He leaned in, his breath hot against your skin, the scent of whiskey clinging to him like a second skin. His voice dropped into a low, venomous whisper, each word laced with cruel amusement.

“You really think she’s gonna save you?” His lips curled, twisting into something sharp, something cruel. “You think she’s gonna take you away from me?”

His fingers twitched at his sides before he reached up, tracing a knuckle along your jaw in a mockery of affection. The touch was deceptively light, a sick contrast to the storm brewing in his eyes. Then, his expression darkened.

“You’re mine,” he hissed, his voice barely above a growl. “You. And those kids.”

He stepped closer, caging you in, making the walls feel smaller, the air thinner. His eyes bored into yours, daring you to contradict him, daring you to fight.

“You think that bitch is gonna take care of them? Think she’s gonna want you once she realizes you ain’t worth shit?”

Disgust curled in his tone, but there was something else beneath it—possession. A sick, twisted need to keep you exactly where he wanted you.

Then, before you could react, before you could so much as breathe, his hand lashed out. The impact was immediate, the sharp crack of skin against skin echoing through the room. The rings on his fingers bit into your cheek, amplifying the pain, sending a sharp, stinging heat spreading across your face.

He watched you, his breathing heavy, his chest rising and falling like a man who had convinced himself he had every right to do this.

“You’re not going anywhere,” he murmured, eyes dark and unforgiving. “Not you. Not them kids.”

Your head snapped to the side from the force of the slap, the taste of metal blooming in your mouth. The pain throbbed, sharp and searing, as the imprint of his rings dug into your skin. For a moment, the room blurred—your vision swimming, your breath caught somewhere between shock and something dangerously close to fury.

But you didn’t speak. You didn’t move.

His hand lingered at his side, fingers flexing, like he was considering doing it again. Like he wanted to.

He let out a slow, heavy breath, shaking his head as if you were the problem. As if you were the one who drove him to this. His lips curled into a sneer, his voice dipping into something almost mocking.

“See what you make me do?” He reached out, gripping your chin between his fingers, forcing you to look at him. His touch was rough, bruising, like he wanted to make sure you felt every bit of his control. “You belong to me. Ain’t no one coming to save you. No one’s gonna love you like I do.”

The weight of his words settled over you like a noose tightening around your throat.

Then, his gaze flickered, shifting toward the hallway—toward the room where the kids were. A slow, knowing smile crept onto his face, something dark gleaming behind his eyes.

“You wanna leave? You wanna take them?” His fingers dug into your jaw, enough to make your teeth clench. “Go ahead. Try it. See what happens.”

His grip loosened just enough for you to pull away, but you didn’t dare move, not yet.

He let out a low chuckle, stepping back with an air of arrogant ease, like he had all the time in the world. Like he had already won. The smirk on his face lingered as he turned, making his way up the stairs, his heavy footsteps disappearing into the bedroom.

The moment he was out of sight, your legs gave out beneath you, and you slid to the floor, your body curling inward as your hands instinctively cradled your swollen cheek. The sting was sharp, the metallic tang of blood coating your tongue. The pain was nothing new, but tonight—tonight, something cracked inside you.

Tears welled in your eyes, spilling over in hot, silent streams as you whispered to yourself, "I need to get out of here."

The thought turned into action before you could second-guess yourself. You pushed yourself up, wiping at your face, and stumbled toward your children's bedroom. The moment you stepped inside, your hands shook as you yanked an old suitcase from the closet, unzipping it with frantic urgency. You didn’t think—you just grabbed, stuffing clothes, shoes, anything your hands landed on.

Your mind reeled, flashes of the last five years playing in a relentless loop. The bruises. The gaslighting. The cheating. The nights spent crying yourself to sleep while he acted like nothing was wrong. The threats—God, the threats. Every time you tried to leave, he reminded you just how powerless you were. And for so long, you believed him.

Until Abby.

Abby, who looked at you like you were someone. Who made you feel like you were more than just a punching bag, more than just some broken woman too afraid to walk away.

Your breathing hitched, chest tightening until you were gasping for air. You pressed a trembling hand to your lips, trying to keep quiet, but the sound was enough to stir Madison. She blinked sleepily, rubbing her eyes as she sat up in bed.

"Momma?" Her small voice was thick with sleep. "What's wrong?"

You swallowed the sob clawing at your throat and crossed the room, kneeling beside her. Gently, you stroked her hair, pressing a kiss to her forehead. "Shh, baby," you whispered. "We need to go. Get your things, okay?"

She stared at you, her little face scrunching in confusion, but she nodded. No questions, no complaints—just trust.

One by one, you woke Kimberly and Jayden, telling them the same thing. Sleepy and confused, they obeyed, moving quickly but quietly, stuffing their backpacks with whatever they could grab. You moved to the crib, lifting Nico carefully into your arms. He whimpered, stirring slightly, but you rocked him, whispering soft reassurances until he settled back into sleep.

You listened, straining to hear any movement upstairs. The bathroom door was still shut. Good. Keep wasting time in there.

Turning back, you looked at your children—Madison, Kimberly, Jayden, and little Nico in your arms. They didn’t understand, not fully, but they trusted you. And they were ready. You inhaled deeply, steeling yourself. Then, carefully, you peeked into the hallway before stepping out into the living room. The front door loomed ahead, freedom just on the other side.

Your gaze dropped to your hand. The wedding ring glinted under the dim light, a symbol of promises long broken. A life you never wanted.

Your fingers trembled as you slid it off. It felt lighter than you expected, as if it had never truly belonged there in the first place. Without hesitation, you placed it on the table. A final goodbye.

With one last breath, you turned the knob and slipped out into the night.

Every step across the yard felt agonizingly slow, your pulse thundering in your ears. You kept looking back, expecting to see the door swing open, to hear his voice, to feel his hands dragging you back. But the house remained still.

Abby’s porch light flickered ahead, a beacon in the dark. You all but ran up the steps, your heart pounding as you knocked—once, twice, then harder. Your desperation bled into each bang against the wood.

"Come on, Abby," you whispered, voice shaking. "Please—please answer."

The porch light flickered on, and moments later, the door swung open. Abby stood there, her face groggy with sleep, confusion evident—until she saw the bags. The kids. You. Her smile faded. Her eyes darted to the bruise forming on your cheek, the raw redness where his rings had cut your skin. "I—I had nowhere else to go," you choked out, your voice barely above a whisper. "He hit me. Please—please let me in."

Abby didn’t hesitate.

"Come inside," Abby said, her voice firm, steady—like an anchor in a storm you had been drowning in for years.

You stepped over the threshold, each footfall heavy with exhaustion, with fear, with the  unbearable weight of everything you had just done. The kids trailed behind you, their little hands clutching their bags, their tired eyes flickering with confusion and trust all at once.

Then the door shut.

The lock clicked into place, sealing you away from that house, from him.

Something inside you cracked.

Tears slipped down your cheeks, silent but relentless. Your body trembled, the adrenaline still coursing through your veins, refusing to let you rest. You didn’t even realize you were swaying until Abby gently pried Nico from your arms.

"I got him," she murmured, her touch steady, reassuring. "Come on, let’s get them settled."

You nodded, but it felt mechanical—like you weren’t really there, just watching yourself move. Abby led the kids down the hall, her voice soft as she whispered to them, soothing their worries, making them feel safe.

Safe.

You stood there, frozen, as the reality of it all loomed over you. You had done it. You had left. But instead of relief, there was only a crushing hollowness, a weight pressing down on your chest so hard you thought it might break you. You moved on autopilot, sinking onto the couch. The second you sat down, the silence wrapped around you, deafening. Your hands clenched in your lap, fingernails digging into your palms as you stared ahead, unblinking.

You needed to cry, to let it all out, to sob until there was nothing left inside you—but the tears wouldn't come the way they should. You swallowed them down, forcing yourself to sit up straight. Stay strong. 

But strong for who, exactly?

You weren’t in that house anymore. You weren’t standing in front of him, pretending you weren’t scared. So why did you still feel like you had to hold yourself together? Footsteps padded back into the room, and then Abby was there, sinking down beside you. "I put the kids in the room with Ezekiel," she said softly, her voice warm, grounding. Before you could say anything, she pulled you into her arms. The warmth of her, the solidness of her presence, undid something in you. Your body sagged against hers, your face pressing into her shoulder as your breath hitched in uneven gasps.

"He—" your voice broke, and you swallowed hard before forcing it out. "He hit me, Abby. He found out—he knows about us."

Abby tensed for half a second, but then her arms tightened around you, her hand moving up to cradle the back of your head.

"Shh," she whispered, her voice steady. "You don’t have to think about that right now."

You wanted to fight it—to tell her that fear wasn’t something you could just shut off like a light. That the terror sitting in your chest, coiled tight like a spring, wouldn’t simply disappear because she said so.

But the way she held you—the quiet strength in her arms, the way her fingers traced soothing circles against your back—it was enough to make you want to believe her. Enough to make you sink just a little deeper into her warmth, even as your mind screamed at you to stay alert.

Then, gently, she pulled away.

She stood, her movements slow, deliberate, giving you time. Then she held out her hands. “Come with me.”

You hesitated.

She noticed.

Her gaze softened, but she didn’t waver. “Follow me.”

You swallowed hard, your hands trembling as you reached out and took hers. Her palms were warm, steady—nothing like the hands you were used to. The ones that hurt. The ones that tore you down piece by piece.

Abby gave your hands a light squeeze before leading you forward, turning off the living room lights as she went, plunging the space into darkness. You followed her down the hall, past the soft murmurs of your sleeping children, until she stopped at a door and pushed it open. The room inside was small but warm. A bed, neatly made. The kind of place meant for peace, for safety. “You’re tired,” she murmured, guiding you inside. “You need rest.”

That word—rest—felt like a foreign thing, something you weren’t allowed to have.

Rest. Rest. Rest.

Your mind repeated it like a warning. Like something dangerous. Because rest meant letting your guard down. It meant leaving yourself open. And the last time you did that, it nearly destroyed you.

But Abby—Abby—wasn’t him.

She had been patient, even when you pushed her away. Even when you swore you could handle this alone. And yet, here she was, standing beside you, still willing to hold you up when you weren’t sure you could stand on your own. She led you to the bed, sitting you down gently before settling beside you. Close, but not too close. Giving you space, but letting you know she was here.

“We’ll figure everything out tomorrow, okay?” she said softly.

Tomorrow.

A future. A choice. Something you never thought you’d have again.

Her fingers reached for your face, cradling your jaw as her thumb brushed lightly over the fresh bruise. You tensed at the touch, but she was careful—so careful—like she knew just how much you had already endured.

She did know.

And she wished she could have saved you sooner.

For so long, you had pushed her away, convinced yourself that she couldn’t be your way out. But now, sitting here, feeling the way her touch only soothed, never hurt, you realized something—she was never going to let you go again.

Not unless you wanted her to.

Abby leaned in slowly, hesitating, waiting—her breath ghosting over your lips, her body still, waiting for you to decide. She wasn’t talking. She wasn’t demanding.

She was giving you a choice.

“Do you trust me?” she whispered.

Your breath hitched.

For a moment, the fear clawed its way up your throat, choking you. But when you looked at her—the quiet patience in her eyes, the way she was holding herself back just for you—you felt something else, too.

Something softer.

Your hands found her face, fingers tracing the edges of her jaw, her cheekbones. Solid. Real. Safe.

“I always have,” you whispered.

The moment the words left your lips, she leaned in.

Her lips met yours in a way that felt nothing like the past.

It wasn’t rushed. It wasn’t forceful. There was no pressure, no demand. Just warmth, just patience. Just her.

Her hands remained steady—one cupping your face, the other resting lightly on your waist, like she was afraid you’d break if she held on too tight. You melted into her, exhausted, overwhelmed, but for the first time in years, safe.

She pulled back first, her forehead pressing against yours as she exhaled, slow and steady. “We can stop,” she murmured, her voice gentle, careful. “You don’t have to—”

“Don’t stop,” you whispered, shaking your head.

Because if you stopped now, the fear might creep back in. The past might claw its way up your throat and pull you under again. But right now, in this moment, there was only her. Only this warmth, this safety, this impossible chance at something new.

She searched your face for hesitation, for regret, but when she found none, she nodded. “Okay,” she said softly. She didn’t kiss you again—not yet. Instead, she shifted, guiding you gently onto the bed. You tensed for half a second, old instincts screaming, but she just pulled the blanket over you, tucking you in with a tenderness that made your chest ache. She didn’t try to pull you close. Didn’t try to hold you down. She just sat beside you, watching, waiting.

And that was when it hit you—she wasn’t going anywhere.

Not tonight.

Not unless you told her to.

Your fingers curled around the sleeve of her shirt, gripping it lightly. “Stay?”

Her expression softened, and she nodded. “Of course.”

flinched, instinctively bracing for the criticism that never came.

But Abby—Abby wasn’t him.

Her hands were steady, warm as they traced over your skin, her touch reverent, careful. She didn’t rush, didn’t demand, didn’t make you feel less than. Instead, she looked at you like you were something to be worshipped, something sacred.

Her fingers brushed over your stomach, the soft lines of your body, the places you had learned to hate because he had made you hate them. But when Abby touched you, it wasn’t with judgment—it was with admiration. With something so tender it almost hurt.

“You don’t have to hide from me,” she murmured, her lips pressing against your shoulder, trailing warmth in their wake. “Not from me, baby.”

Tears burned at the back of your eyes, but you swallowed them down, focusing on the way she felt. The way she kissed down your body, taking her time, like she had all the patience in the world. Like she wanted you to unlearn every cruel word, every harsh touch, every moment of self-doubt he had left behind.

Her hands spread over your hips, holding you like you were something fragile, something precious. Her mouth followed, trailing heat and devotion over every inch of you. And when you finally looked down, meeting her gaze, there was nothing but love staring back at you.

Real, undeniable, unconditional love.

And for the first time in forever, you let yourself believe it.

She leaned down again, her lips meeting yours with more passion this time. The hesitation was gone—she had your permission now, and she intended to show you just how much she wanted this. Wanted you.

Her hands trailed down your body, slow, deliberate, never rushing. She never looked away, her gaze locked onto yours as if afraid that if she did, you might disappear. As if you were something fragile, something fleeting, and she wasn’t willing to risk losing you.

With agonizing patience, she slipped your shirt up, her fingers grazing your skin as she peeled the fabric away. Not once did she break eye contact, watching you as though she was memorizing you, as though she was trying to make sure you stayed here with her, in this moment, and not in the past.

Then, her lips followed where her hands had been. Soft, reverent kisses trailing down your body as she rid you of each layer, until there was nothing left between you and her.

You felt exposed. Vulnerable. And when her eyes roamed your bare form, drinking you in with something close to awe, you turned away, shame creeping in, clawing at your chest.

But then she smiled.

“God, you’re beautiful,” she whispered, her voice so full of sincerity it made your throat tighten.

You tried to smile back, but it didn’t come—not when the past still loomed over you like a shadow. Memories of your husband’s sharp words, the way he’d sneer whenever your body changed, how he made sure you knew every extra pound was a failure. And after Nico—after the sleepless nights, the exhaustion, the way your body no longer felt like your own—you never got the chance to change it.

But Abby didn’t care.

She had never cared.

“Let me take care of you, yeah?” she murmured, her lips brushing against your cheek.

You hesitated for only a moment before nodding, barely able to meet her gaze.

Her smile returned, warm and reassuring, before she kissed you again. This time, her hands followed—caressing, exploring, showing you with every touch that she wasn’t just here to take; she was here to worship.

Then, she shifted, adjusting you with ease until you were on her lap, your back pressed to her chest, her strong arms wrapped securely around your waist. You gasped at the sudden change, your body tensing instinctively, but she only held you steady, her grip firm yet patient.

“Just breathe,” she soothed, pressing a soft kiss to your shoulder.

Her hands guided your face, tilting it towards the mirror in front of you.

And there you were.

Bare. Exposed. Ugly.

You turned away, your stomach twisting at the sight.

But Abby wouldn’t let you.

“Look at yourself,” she whispered, her lips brushing against your ear, her breath warm, grounding.

And then—she parted your legs.

Her hands, strong yet impossibly gentle, kept you steady as her fingers trailed lower, teasing, barely there, yet enough to send a shiver up your spine. The first brush of her fingertips against your clit was featherlight, a slow, deliberate stroke that had your breath catching in your throat.

Your fingers dug into her thighs, trying to ground yourself as pleasure coiled in your stomach, warm and insistent. But still, you turned away, unable to face your reflection, unable to see yourself the way she did.

Abby wasn’t having it.

“Watch,” she murmured, her voice low, coaxing, but firm.

She wasn’t asking.

She wanted you to see. To see the way you melted beneath her touch. To see how beautiful you were when you let go.

To see what she had always seen.

Her eyes never left your face as she kept working you, slow, careful, reverent. “You’re beautiful, Y/N,” she whispered, her lips brushing the shell of your ear, the words sinking deep, wrapping around the parts of you that had forgotten how to believe them.

Her fingers moved with agonizing precision, rubbing slow, purposeful circles over your clit, soft but insistent. In the mirror, she watched you—the way your body tensed, the way your thighs trembled, the way you fought the urge to pull away even as you craved more.

You groaned, torn between shying away and sinking into her completely. The contradiction warred inside you, but the need won.

“Abby,” you whimpered, your voice breaking on her name. “More—please.”

A pleased hum rumbled in her chest as she pressed a kiss to your shoulder, her lips warm and reassuring.

And then—she gave you what you asked for.

She pushed a finger inside, slow and steady, letting you feel every inch, every stretch. Your mouth parted in a shaky moan, your hands gripping her tighter as she filled you, her other hand never ceasing its soft, deliberate movements against your clit.

“Good girl,” she praised, her voice rough with something deeper, something primal. “Just like that.”

And this time—you didn’t look away.

Abby worked you open slowly, never rushing, never pushing more than you could take. She watched you in the mirror, her gaze locked onto your face, catching every twitch, every shudder, every unspoken plea for more.

Her finger curled inside you, searching, learning, until she found the spot that had you gasping, your head falling back against her shoulder. A smirk ghosted across her lips as she did it again, dragging her fingertip against that spot with precision, like she wanted to draw every sound from you, like she wanted to pull you apart piece by piece.

“Fuck, Abby—” You moaned, your hips rocking into her hand, needing more, needing everything.

“I know, baby,” she murmured against your neck, her breath hot, teasing, sending a fresh wave of heat coursing through you.

Her free hand slid up your stomach, fingers splaying over the softness there, holding you in place as she added another finger, stretching you, filling you, coaxing another desperate sound from your lips.

“Look at yourself,” she whispered again, her voice a mixture of command and praise. “Look how good you take me.”

You forced your eyes open, your gaze meeting hers in the mirror. The sight made your breath hitch—her strong arms wrapped around you, her hands working you apart, her expression so full of hunger and something deeper, something you weren’t sure you could name.

She looked at you like you were something to be worshipped.

Like you were something precious.

Your lips parted, a whimper slipping free as she fucked you with slow, deliberate strokes, her palm grinding against your clit just right. Your body tensed, the pressure building, every touch sending you higher, tightening the coil in your stomach.

“That’s it,” Abby praised, her voice dripping with satisfaction. “You’re so good for me.”

You were close—so fucking close.

Your fingers clutched at her wrist, your thighs trembling as the pleasure threatened to consume you. Abby felt it, knew it, and instead of letting up, she pressed a kiss to the side of your jaw, whispering the words that finally unraveled you.

“Come for me, baby.”

And just like that—you did.

The pleasure crashed over you in waves, white-hot and overwhelming, leaving you gasping as your body locked up against hers. Abby held you through it, her hands steady, her lips whispering soft, reverent praises against your skin as you rode it out.

Only when the aftershocks left you boneless in her arms did she finally slow, her fingers slipping from you, her touch shifting from teasing to soothing.

She kissed your temple, her hands rubbing gentle circles over your stomach as she whispered, “You okay?”

You nodded weakly, still catching your breath, your body still thrumming from the intensity of it all.

Abby chuckled, low and warm, her breath brushing against your ear as she held you close. She pressed a lingering kiss to your shoulder, then another, her lips trailing downward as she carefully eased you onto the bed. She moved with purpose—not just to take, but to give, to replace every memory of him with something new, something that belonged to only you and her.

Her hands, rough yet tender, mapped your body with slow, deliberate caresses, fingertips ghosting over your skin like she was memorizing every inch of you. She wasn’t rushing, wasn’t impatient—she was savoring you, worshipping you, as if she had all the time in the world.

Then, her lips followed.

She started at your collarbone, pressing soft, open-mouthed kisses against the sensitive skin before sucking lightly, just enough to leave a mark. A quiet, pleased hum vibrated against your skin when you gasped, your body arching into her.

She liked that.

Liked seeing the way you reacted, how your breathing changed, how your body responded to her.

She moved lower, pressing her mouth to the swell of your breast, her tongue flicking over your nipple before she sucked, slow and purposeful. The sensation sent heat curling in your stomach, a quiet moan slipping from your lips as your fingers found her short hair, tangling into the strands.

“Abby,” you breathed, barely more than a whisper.

She smirked against your skin, her mouth trailing downward, leaving a path of love bites along your ribs, your stomach, the soft flesh of your inner thighs. Each one was placed with intention, a silent claim, a way to erase every touch before her.

By the time she settled between your legs, you were already trembling.

You felt seen. Worshipped.

Her hands slid up your thighs, strong fingers spreading you open, her thumbs tracing soothing circles against your skin. She took a moment to just look at you—all of you—and when her eyes met yours again, they were dark, needy, full of something deeper than lust.

“You’re fucking beautiful,” she whispered, voice thick with reverence.

You turned your face away, heat creeping up your neck.

But she wasn’t having that.

“Hey,” she murmured, shifting up just enough to capture your lips again, slow and deep, her fingers tipping your chin so you’d look at her.

Her forehead pressed against yours, her breath mingling with yours. “I mean it,” she whispered. “I want you to believe it.”

You swallowed, your chest tightening. You wanted to—God, you wanted to. But the years of being picked apart, of feeling like your body wasn’t yours to love, still lingered in the back of your mind.

Abby knew that.

That’s why she took her time.

When she finally positioned herself between your legs, her slick heat pressing into yours, she didn’t take—she let you feel it first, the warm, slow friction of her against you, her body melting into yours. Your breath hitched, your fingers gripping her arms. She groaned at the contact, her grip tightening on your hips as she rolled her hips forward, grinding against you in the slowest, most agonizing rhythm imaginable. “Abby,” you whimpered, nails digging into her skin.

She shuddered at the sound of her name on your lips. “Feels good?” she rasped. You could only nod, your head falling back against the pillow as she rocked into you again, the delicious friction sending pleasure curling low in your stomach. She wasn’t rough—not this time. She was taking her time, watching every expression that flickered across your face, feeling every shudder, every twitch, like she wanted to engrave it into her memory.

Her hand slid up your body, fingers brushing over your stomach before reaching your chest, palming the soft flesh, teasing.

“Look at us,” she whispered.

You hesitated, knowing what she meant. Knowing that the mirror beside the bed reflected everything. You swallowed hard.

“I—”

She thrust forward, her slick clit grinding against yours, and you gasped, eyes fluttering open at the sensation.

“Look,” she urged again, her voice softer now, full of something almost pleading.

So, you did.

And what you saw nearly broke you.

The two of you, bodies intertwined, her broad form wrapped around you, her muscles flexing as she moved, her face twisted in pleasure—it was intimate, raw, something deeper than just sex.

You saw her.

You saw yourself.

And for the first time, you didn’t hate what you saw.

Abby caught your gaze in the reflection, her lips curling into a soft smile. “That’s my girl,” she murmured, pressing a kiss to your temple as she rolled her hips again, coaxing another broken moan from your lips.

The pressure was building, tighter, hotter, deeper.

Her hand slid between your bodies, her fingers finding your clit, rubbing slow, torturous circles.

You whimpered, your body tensing, the pleasure too much, too good.

“That’s it, baby,” she whispered, kissing your jaw, your neck, your shoulder. “I’ve got you.”

Your body shattered.

The orgasm crashed over you like a tidal wave, your breath stuttering, your body arching, your fingers digging into her back as you came, pleasure rolling through you in waves.

Abby followed soon after, her hips stuttering, a strangled moan slipping from her lips as she buried herself against you, her body shaking with her own release.

She held you through it. Kept moving, slow and gentle, until the pleasure faded into soft aftershocks. Until you were just breathing together, bodies tangled, lips barely brushing.

Then, silence.

Warm, safe, full.

Abby pressed one last kiss to your lips before tucking you against her chest, pulling the blanket over you both.

She didn’t say anything.

She didn’t have to.

Because when she whispered, “I love you,” into your hair, you already knew.

Abby’s arms stayed wrapped around you, her breath still uneven, chest rising and falling against your back. Her lips brushed against your hair, a soft, absentminded press—like she just needed to feel you there, grounded in her arms.

Neither of you spoke for a long time.

The room was quiet, save for the slowing rhythm of your breaths, the occasional sound of the sheets shifting as Abby traced slow, lazy circles on your stomach with her fingertips.

It was grounding. She was grounding.

You swallowed hard, the weight of everything settling in—what you had just shared, what it meant. How different it was from what you had known before.

How easy it would be to fall into the fear, to let the echoes of the past creep in, to tell yourself you didn’t deserve this.

But Abby wasn’t going to let that happen.

“Hey,” she murmured, her voice still thick from the pleasure, but softer now. She pressed another kiss to your shoulder, her lips lingering there. “You still with me?”

You nodded against her, blinking slowly. Yes. You were here. With her.

She hummed in response, pleased, her arms tightening slightly around you. “Good.”

You shifted slightly, turning onto your side to face her, your hands sliding up to her chest, feeling the steady thrum of her heartbeat beneath your palm. Her eyes softened when she met your gaze, and for a moment, neither of you moved.

You just looked at each other.

And for the first time in what felt like forever, you weren’t afraid of being seen.

Abby’s thumb brushed against your cheek, tucking a stray strand of hair behind your ear. “You okay?” she asked gently, her voice careful, like she was ready to hold you together if you suddenly fell apart.

You could only nod, because yes, you were.

More than okay.

For the first time in years, you felt safe.

Abby exhaled softly, her forehead pressing against yours. “Good,” she whispered again. “Because I meant what I said, y’know.”

You swallowed. “About what?”

Her fingers traced absentminded patterns on your hip, her voice low but firm. “That you’re beautiful.”

A lump formed in your throat. You started to turn away, but Abby caught your chin, tilting your face back toward hers.

“Hey,” she murmured, her lips ghosting over yours. “I need you to hear me.”

You blinked up at her, your fingers tightening slightly against her skin.

She kissed you again, slow and reassuring, like she was trying to press the words into you. Like she wouldn’t stop until you believed them.

You didn’t know how long you stayed like that—bodies pressed together, exchanging soft kisses, whispering against each other’s lips, holding each other in the dark.

But at some point, exhaustion settled in, your body melting further into hers. Abby pulled the blanket up around you both, her hand running soothingly along your back as you buried your face into the crook of her neck.

She pressed one last kiss to your temple, her voice barely above a whisper.

“I’m not going anywhere.”

And for the first time, you actually believed it.

Abby let you rest, truly rest—something she knew you hadn’t done in years. She handled everything, making sure you didn’t have to lift a finger.

When your husband came banging on her door the next morning, demanding to see his wife, Abby didn’t hesitate. She squared her shoulders, met his drunken rage with an unshaken stare, and sent him away without a second thought. She didn’t give him an inch, didn’t let him weasel his way back in with apologies or empty threats. And while he wasted himself away in whatever bar or gutter he crawled into, she went back to your house, collecting the last of your things—the clothes, the kids’ toys, the small pieces of your life you were finally taking back.

And the kids? She cared for them like they were her own. She made them breakfast, kept them entertained, ensured they never felt the weight of the storm you were escaping. Every now and then, she’d peek into the room where you slept, watching the steady rise and fall of your chest, the way your brow would furrow even in sleep. She wanted to smooth away every crease, every shadow of pain he left behind. She would sit at the edge of the bed, just watching, wondering how someone as strong as you had been forced to endure so much. But now… now you were here. And she wasn’t going to let you slip away.

“Is Momma ever gonna wake up?”

Madison’s small voice pulled Abby from her thoughts. She looked down to see the little girl standing in the living room, watching her with wide, worried eyes.

Abby softened, offering a gentle smile. “Of course she will,” she reassured her, ruffling her curls. “And when she does, we’ll all go to the park. How does that sound?”

Madison nodded, but instead of running off to play, she hesitated. Her tiny fingers twisted in the hem of her shirt as she stared up at Abby, something uncertain in her expression.

“I don’t wanna see Daddy anymore,” she whispered, her voice small but firm. Her lower lip trembled as tears welled in her eyes, spilling down her cheeks. “I want you to be my new dad. You make Momma happy. Please don’t leave us.”

Abby’s breath caught in her throat.

She had faced down men twice her size without blinking, fought through storms that had tried to break her—but nothing had ever shaken her quite like this.

Madison wasn’t just asking for comfort. She was asking for permanence. For security. For a love that didn’t come with pain.

Abby crouched down, gently wiping the tears from Madison’s cheeks. “Hey,” she murmured, her voice thick with emotion. “I’m not going anywhere, okay? I promise.”

Madison sniffled, her little body trembling as she threw her arms around Abby’s neck, holding on like she never wanted to let go. Abby instinctively wrapped her arms around her, steadying the tiny girl against her chest. Madison clung to her, pressing her face into Abby’s shoulder, and in that moment, Abby could feel just how much this meant to her—how much she needed this.

Then, Madison pulled back just enough to meet Abby’s gaze, her eyes wide, uncertain, yet filled with so much hope. She hesitated for only a second before asking in the softest voice, “Can I call you Mom too?”

Abby’s breath caught in her throat. She hadn’t expected that—not so soon, not so openly. But the way Madison looked at her, like she was waiting for permission to love her, like she needed Abby to say it was okay, broke something inside her.

A slow, warm smile spread across Abby’s face as she gently cupped Madison’s cheek. “You and your siblings can call me whatever you want,” she murmured, her voice steady, filled with nothing but certainty.

Madison’s face lit up with pure joy, the weight she had been carrying lifting in an instant. Without hesitation, she leaned in and pressed a soft, grateful kiss to Abby’s cheek before giggling and darting off to play, her little curls bouncing with each step.

Before Abby could fully process the moment, a small tug at her pant leg made her glance down. Jayden stood there, his round eyes filled with curiosity, his tiny arms raised expectantly. He didn’t say anything—he didn’t have to.

Abby let out a soft chuckle, bending down to scoop him up with ease. He nestled against her without hesitation, resting his head on her shoulder like it was the most natural thing in the world. Abby held him close, her heart swelling as she realized—this wasn’t just a moment. This was the beginning of something bigger, something real.

Your eyes flutter open, disoriented for a moment as you take in your surroundings. The room is bathed in the warm glow of the setting sun, casting long shadows across the walls. Panic sets in almost immediately. You overslept. Your heart lurches, and you scramble out of bed, fumbling for your robe as you rush to the door.

You forgot to clean. You forgot to take care of the kids. You forgot—

But as you step into the living room, reality doesn’t meet you with the usual weight of dread. There is no angry man waiting to bark orders, no overwhelming list of tasks you must complete to avoid his wrath. Instead, the space is filled with something else entirely—something you barely recognize.

Laughter. Warmth. Family.

Madison is the first to notice you, her eyes lighting up as she dashes toward you. “Momma’s up!” she exclaims, throwing her little arms around your waist. Before you can even react, Kimberly follows suit, wrapping herself around your leg, and even Ezekiel, usually more reserved, runs to you with a beaming smile.

You let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding, running your fingers through their hair as you hold them close. They’re safe. They’re happy. And then, your gaze drifts toward the kitchen.

Abby stands at the stove, effortlessly balancing a sleepy Jayden on her hip while stirring a pot with her free hand. In the corner, Nico babbles happily in a playpen, giggling at nothing in particular. The scene is so… normal. Domestic, even. It takes you a second to process that this is your life now—that you don’t have to be afraid anymore.

“Hello, sleeping beauty,” Abby teases, flashing you a small smile as she starts plating food.

You don’t say anything at first, just watching her—watching this. The way she moves with such ease, cooking for your kids, holding Jayden like he’s always been hers, making sure everyone is taken care of. It’s overwhelming in a way you can’t quite put into words.

You glance around, suddenly aware of the mess—scattered toys, little shoes abandoned by the door, a crayon rolling off the coffee table. Instinct kicks in before you can stop yourself, and you bend down to start picking them up.

But before you can get far, Abby is there, her hand gently stopping yours.

“No, no. I got it, okay? Just sit at the table,” she says firmly, her touch lingering on your wrist as she meets your gaze.

“But—”

She shakes her head, not letting you finish. “I’ll do all the heavy labor around here. You just rest, alright?” Her voice is so full of certainty, of care, that you don’t argue. Instead, you let her lead you to the table, where she carefully settles Nico and Jayden into their highchairs before bringing over the food.

“Mom, can I help?” Ezekiel pipes up, eager to be involved.

Abby grins and nods, handing him some utensils to place on the table. Madison, never one to be left out, rushes up next. “I wanna help too, Mom!” she announces proudly.

You smile

Dinner is a quiet kind of chaos—the good kind. The kind where there’s giggling between bites, where Kimberly insists on feeding Nico even though half of it ends up on his bib, Jayden eating the food in front of him, where Madison keeps trying to sneak extra pieces of food onto your plate, saying, “You need to eat more, Momma.”

Ezekiel talks about his favorite game, going into a detailed explanation that only a kid his age would find fascinating, and Abby listens—really listens—nodding along like his words are the most important thing in the world. It’s such a stark contrast from what you’re used to that your chest tightens.

For so long, dinner had been a silent affair, tense and suffocating. One wrong move, one misplaced word, and everything could go south in an instant. But here? Here, the air is light. The table is full of life.

Abby catches your gaze from across the table, and it’s like she sees every thought running through your head. She doesn’t say anything, just reaches over and places a hand on yours, her grip steady and grounding. You swallow past the lump in your throat and squeeze back.

After dinner, the kids insist on a movie night, and you don’t have the heart to say no. They pile onto the couch, dragging blankets and stuffed animals with them, making a mess of the living room that Abby just cleaned. But she doesn’t scold them—doesn’t care at all, really. She just chuckles and lets them bury her under the weight of small bodies and soft laughter.

You sit on the edge at first, hesitant, unsure of where you fit in this picture. But then Abby reaches for you, pulling you in, slotting you right against her side like you belong there.

And maybe you do.

Madison curls up in your lap, her tiny fingers gripping your shirt. Kimberly tucks herself against your arm. Ezekiel lays in Abby’s arm and  Jayden is already half-asleep on Abby’s chest, and Nico, bundled up in a blanket, rests peacefully in his playpen.

The movie plays in the background, but you barely register it. Instead, you focus on the warmth surrounding you, on the way Abby’s fingers trace absentminded circles against your arm, on the quiet, steady rhythm of her breathing.

You don’t realize how exhausted you still are until your eyelids grow heavy. The last thing you hear before drifting off is Madison’s sleepy whisper:

“Momma, can we stay here forever?”

And for the first time, you don’t have to lie.

"Yeah, baby," you murmur, your fingers gently threading through Madison's soft hair as you finally, finally let yourself rest. The weight that’s been hanging over you for so long, the constant worry, the need to always be on edge, melts away. “We’re not going anywhere.”

You turn to Abby, a smile creeping onto your face. It’s different now—real, unguarded, unbroken. She’s the woman who saved you, the woman who stayed, who didn’t give up on you even when you doubted yourself. The one who was patient when you couldn’t even recognize your own worth. The one who helped you find your courage.

"I love you, Abby," you say, your voice soft but full of everything you couldn't say before, leaning in to kiss her cheek. It’s not a desperate kiss, not a goodbye, but a promise, a pledge. A pledge that you’re here, with her, and you’re finally letting yourself believe it.

The truth hits you like a wave. You had dreams once. A childhood dream of being a ballerina—spinning, twirling, the spotlight shining down, your heart light and free. It was your escape, your sanity while living in a cage you built yourself, with him in the center of it. You clung to that dream because it was all you had, the only thing that kept you going when nothing else made sense.

But now... now you realize something you never truly understood before. You don’t need to be a ballerina to feel like you’re dancing anymore. You’ve already found something even better, something you never thought you’d deserve.

You’ve found a family. A family with laughter, with love, with chaos that doesn’t feel suffocating but freeing. A family that isn’t bound by broken promises or fake smiles. A family that isn’t based on fear, but on the kind of unconditional love you always thought was out of reach.

And for the first time in what feels like forever, you don’t need to pretend. You don’t need to hide the cracks or the bruises or the old scars. You can just be. You can just love. You can just exist.

And as you look at Abby, holding your kids close, the world outside seems so far away. It doesn’t matter anymore. This is your home. This is your family. This is the dream you never knew you needed.

You take a deep breath, your heart full to the brim, and you finally let yourself believe in the future.

"Thank you," you whisper under your breath, more to yourself than anyone else, but Abby hears it. Her eyes soften, and she squeezes your hand in reassurance.

"We’ve got this," she says, her smile lighting up the room.

And for the first time in so long, you believe her. You believe in the life ahead of you. You believe in the family that you never thought you could have.

You’ve found your peace. You’ve found your place. And nothing could ever take that away.

And so, you rest—because for the first time in your life, you finally can.

You made it to the end (I hope)! It's finally over. Thank you all so much for all the love and support throughout these last two parts. It really means the world to me, like truly. 🥹 This fic has been sitting in my drafts since 2023, and I was so scared to post it, but seeing how much people have enjoyed it makes me want to cry (just like I did while writing the ending). If anyone has any requests, don't hesitate to ask. Thank you all again for everything! © seulszn.

[cinnamongirlblogsworld]

Well, these past few days, I had a fleeting thought and debated whether I should write about it. But here we go.

read at your own risk!!!

Haunted

Lilia calderu x reader

The reader is part of the coven (let’s imagine they’re an actual coven, beyond just the Path of the Witches). It’s almost like a "Girls' Night," and everyone is gathered at Agatha’s house. You and her have always been close—maybe you’re the only person, besides Rio, that she actually tolerates and respects. Your relationship is almost like a friendship, in the sense that you talk about feelings every now and then, and she always acts afterward as if it never happened—lol, Agatha being Agatha.

Because of that, she notices that you might have a little crush on Lilia. And honestly, who, being a rational human being, wouldn’t?

So, you’re all eating pizza, having a few beers, hanging out in the living room when Jen suggests a game of "Truth or Dare." You hesitate, thinking, This is such a childish game, but you don’t notice the discreet, knowing smirk that Agatha flashes in your direction.

Between laughter and playful jabs, the bottle lands between you and her. Harkness leans in with a teasing grin.

"Truth or dare, baby?"

You smirk back, expecting something entirely inappropriate from her.

"Dare!"

"I dare you to give Lilia a lap dance in my closet—for as long as I find it entertaining. And you can’t back out, don’t be a coward."

Time seems to freeze. You remain motionless, knowing she knew—but you never thought she’d actually do something about it.

"That bitch."

From one side, you hear Jen’s uncontrollable laughter; on the other, Alice’s wide-eyed stare looks like it might burn a hole through you. But something else stirs deep inside you, something that makes your whole body feel like it’s seconds away from bursting into flames.

Slowly, you lift your gaze toward Lilia, expecting complete disdain at the suggestion. But what you see makes your heartbeat thunder in your ears.

She holds a wine glass, having just taken a generous sip. Her tongue flicks out to wet her lips, and her eyes—oh, her eyes—are locked onto you, piercing, as if she can see beyond what you’d ever let anyone else witness.

"So?" she hums. "What are we waiting for?"

"W-What? You’re actually going along with this?"

For the first time, you speak after what feels like hours, though it’s only been seconds.

"Come on, darling," Lilia drawls. "Unless, of course, you don’t want to. Not that it’d be a hardship for me to be there with you. I might even enjoy the private show."

Your thoughts spiral. This is insane. How did things escalate this quickly?

Agatha, clearly entertained, throws her hands up. "Lilia Calderu, I knew I liked you, girl!"

Lilia rolls her eyes at the comment but doesn’t deny anything.

And just like that, you find yourself inside the closet—locked in by Agatha.

Your clothes disappear, leaving you in nothing but lingerie, while a sensual song begins playing in the background—yet another ridiculous Agatha stunt.

"Fucking hell."

Lilia sits in a chair, watching you. No, devouring you with her gaze, as if the sheer lack of fabric on your body is an invitation. There’s something in her eyes, something like hunger—but no, it couldn’t be. She wouldn’t look at you like that... would she?

Heat spreads through you, searing, setting every nerve alight. The blood in your veins turns molten. You take a breath, fighting for composure.

Your body moves, fluid and slow. Your hands skim your own skin in a way that makes confidence bloom within you. You step toward her, swaying your hips with deliberate grace, your gaze never leaving hers. Your hair tumbles around you like a living thing, shifting with every movement.

You turn your back to her, slipping the straps of your bra off your shoulders but never removing it. A teasing glance over your shoulder, a smirk playing on your lips.

But when you see her biting her lip, watching you like that—oh, you shudder all over.

And then you lower yourself into her lap, the warmth of her body against your bare skin making you dizzy. The energy radiating from her coils around you, drawing you in. You roll your hips, slow, deliberate. This is just a game, just a dare, nothing more... right?

She hasn’t touched you. Not once. Not until—

A pair of firm hands grip your waist. And then, in a surge of strength, she lifts you effortlessly.

You gasp, thrown off balance, eyes wide as she spins you around to face her.

"L-Lilia—"

"Shh, darling."

Lilia Calderu is a force of nature—unyielding, commanding, and utterly intoxicating. She cages you between her and the wall, making you feel utterly trapped—no escape, no thoughts, only her.

One of her ring-clad hands trails up to your throat, fingers curling gently before tightening just enough to steal your breath.

Your body burns. Shakes. The submission she draws from you is instinctual, primal, absolute.

Your legs press together in desperation, but she notices. Of course, she does.

She shoves you downward. "Kneel."

It’s not a request. It’s a command, sharp and unwavering.

You drop instantly, sinking to your knees before her, eyes lifting to meet her gaze. The way she looks down at you makes you shiver.

She grips your hair, yanking your head back with a force that hurts—but the pain only fuels the fire inside you.

Deprived of attention, you lean your face against her thick, prominent thigh, and slide your face across the area, seeking raw and crude contact. She looks at you and smiles pretentiously, almost motivated by this reaction. You raise your face a little more, until your intimate area, pressing your nose there. Damn, her scent flooded your being, and you just wanted to beg, plead in her name, like a miserable person cries out to God.

Then, she pushes you away.

"Open your mouth."

You gulp, but you do it. No hesitation.

"Good girl..." Her voice is pure sin. "I knew you had this pathetic little urge to be used."

She leans down, whispering against your lips, "You do realize I’m old enough to be your mother, right? Don’t you have any shame?"

Her fingers trace your jawline, tilting your chin up. The glint in her eyes is nothing short of wicked.

Your mouth opens, but no words come out. Silence is consent.

"Of course, you wouldn’t," she taunts. "How pathetic."

Her fingers push past your lips, forcing themselves inside, making you choke, making your throat constrict around the intrusion. You’re drenched for her, dripping, needy.

Tears prick at your eyes as you suck around them, tongue swirling over her rings, leaving them slick—just like you.

Nothing else exists but this.

You want me?

I walk down the hallway

You're lucky

The bedroom’s my runway

Slap me!

I'm pinned to the doorway

A wet sound—her fingers leaving your mouth.

You gasp, panting, feeling the unbearable loss.

She releases your hair, but you stay put, unmoving, waiting.

"You’d do anything for me, wouldn’t you?"

You nod. No hesitation.

She pulls you up, and your knees ache, but you don’t care.

Her nose trails along your neck, breathing you in, reveling in your warmth.

She exhales, her lips brushing against your ear.

"I’m going to take care of you, darling."

The sound of a slap echoes through the room—a firm strike against your sex, from bottom to top, reverberating to the core of your cells. No coherent thought crosses your mind.

"But first, I need relief. I want the image of your pretty little face all messy because of me, between my legs. My thighs framing your neck while I feel your tongue licking me until I come."

"You want that too, don’t you, darling?" "I know you do."

.

.

.

.

Well, I don't know what that was but it's been on my mind for a while, comments are welcome so I don't feel crazy alone lol

[theemporium]

nicojack valentines blurb? 🫶🫶

thank you for requesting!🫶🏽

.

“This is evil.”

You snorted a little, unable to help yourself even with the sight of your boyfriend pouting on your phone screen.

“No, like genuinely evil. It’s Valentine’s Day and I have two really hot partners that are being really hot hundreds of miles away from me. This is a crime.” 

Nico couldn’t wipe the fond expression off his face as he tilted his head into camera view. “We are proud of you though,” he said with a  genuine smile. “You’re playing so well, baby.” 

Jack narrowed his eyes at the way Nico was tucked up behind you on the sunlounger. “Do not try to sweet talk me, Hischier. You’re both half naked and sunbathing all day. I’m freezing my balls off over here.” 

Your expression fell. “I knew you wanted us to come to Montreal. We should have never—“

Jack’s pout instantly melted away to a softer expression. “No, baby, no. I meant it when I said I wanted you both to go somewhere for bye week. I’m just being dramatic. I promise I’m happy the two of you are having fun.” 

“I still feel bad,” you murmured, lips pressing together as you examined Jack’s expression like you were looking for a sign on whether he was lying or not. 

“Well don’t,” Jack replied, all bratty and huffy which made Nico beam a little. “Because you both are going to make it up to me when we are back home.” 

You smiled at his words. “Oh yeah?” 

“I expect to be spoiled rotten,” Jack said, his own grin starting to grow on his face. “I’m gonna be bringing back gold for you both. You need to match that.” 

Nico hooked his chin over your shoulder, eyes crinkling as he smiled at the younger boy. “It’s gonna be all about you for days, baby.” 

“And until then, I expect exclusive content. I have not received nearly enough photos from you both. And the ones you have sent, you’ve been far too clothed.” 

You snorted. “Well I’ve been trying to get him to stop wearing shirts when he isn’t even buttoning them but he’s being difficult.” 

“I’m trying to be respectful to the other people here,” Nico said, rolling his eyes but he didn’t look that put off by the suggestion. 

“Who cares about them? Your boyfriend is deprived over here.”

“Deprived and freezing his balls off,” you added with a grin.

“Fine, fine, whatever keeps you and your balls happy,” Nico replied, laughing at the way Jack’s face brightened. 

“Happy Valentine’s to me!” 

.