#so there has to be something else that we're unaware of

[bestdressedchuuya]

Well I guess it was naive of me to assume my coworker was actually going to do the thing he said he was going to do. Silly me.

[matteglaze]

Thinking abt Todoroki Shouto, and how he isn't as dense as he comes across...

When reading fanfics Shouto is always oblivious and dense, and yes, I wholeheartedly agree with that—

But i feel like Shouto also does it on purpose, you know? Like, one day you're both talking, and he's just soo up close to your face. 'He probably doesn't realize' you rationalize inside your head, but no, he's definitely aware of the affect he has on you. Your reactions are cute, he thinks, cute in the way he can't seem to stop teasing you.

I think he'd pay extra close attention to people that are close to him, people he holds dear, so whenever you stutter, or your mind goes and blank and you think 'Oh, I hope he didn't notice that—' he does.

I think that's why I like the idea that he's actually a little menance, but the worst part is that he gets away with it !!

Whether it's saying something so humbling and out of depth— something that many would take offense to but think, 'well, he didn't really mean it that way— that's just how he is', NOPE!! he definitely meant it that way, but not clarifying anything saves him the trouble so why should he care yk...

Though, he mostly (all the time really) does it with you. Getting up in your personal space, saying things like "When we're on a mission together, I feel like I can handle anything as long as you're the one by my side"— and it flusters you sooo badly, but no, this is Shouto we're talking about, clearly he didn't mean it like that, right? Right? (And the entire time, he's trying to bite down a Cheshire grin)

So, yes, in the earlier years of being a hero he wasn't really great at communication and unaware of social cues— but now, he's practically evil with the way he acts around you.

Sometimes you think you see it; you're going to call him out on his behavior. There's no way he didn't know what he was doing when he held your face in his hands on a hot summer day, pulling you close and saying, "Is this cooling you down?" (No, actually, this was just heating you up)

But whenever you do call him out on it—

"You know, you're not that slick." You say one day, ice cream cone in hand as you walk next to him, bumping him with your hip. Your eyes slide over towards his mismatched ones, gauging his reaction closely. If you were anyone else you would have probably missed the slight quirk of his lip; the uplift of his brows. But you don't, and the grin on your face overtakes most of your features. Maybe today will be the day he finally admits it. Instead he doesn't speak, takes one lick of his mint chocolate ice cream and then he turns to you, a silent question appearing on his face. A taunt.

You let out a humourless breath, cone tight in your hand as you point it in his direction. Accusing him of something both of you know you won't be able to prove, but he knows you know, and you know he knows you know. But, it'd be really great if he could just admit it, because it's almost like a game.

A game between just the two of you.

"Don't try and act blonde now!" You chide, biting on your bottom lip to control the smile that tries to force it's way on your face.

Shouto smiles at your antics, leaning in close to you, and all of a sudden he completely invades your senses. The smell of mint on his lips is so close, and yet so far. He stares deeply into your eyes, and just as you thought you were getting closer to the truth— he brings his thumb up to wipe absent mindlessly at the corner of your mouth. He pulls back, looks you in the eyes, and takes a tentative lick at the frosty flavour on his thumb. With a cat-like tilt to his head, he says, "I'm not blonde?"

But, the worst part is whenever he speaks about you to others, he speaks so fondly of you; like one would do about their partner— but you guys aren't together. Sometimes he does it right in front of your face whenever you guys are at a hero gala. Shouto sees you talking to a new and upcoming, young, pro-hero and he immediately comes to your side. With how close he is, and with the things he says to them, "I can never imagine myself without them by my side." It gives people the idea that you're both, you know, a thing.

Little do you know, he's been playing this 'game' ever since high school, and even though the two of you aren't exclusive— it doesn't mean he can't get in his fun.

Todoroki Shouto is not good for your health.

[evangelifloss]

Thinking about a certain scene in Dungeon Meshi that completely encapsulates the Autistic experience of making friends as an adult and how hard it is to try and navigate it without ending up getting hurt.

Like IDK about y'all, but this is a common problem ALOT of Autistic Adults face when trying to make friends with other people, because unlike children who aren't good at keeping their opinions to themselves, Adults ARE. In society, we're even encouraged to "keep the peace" "be polite" and etc, which commonly leads to awful scenarios as shown above when Laois finds out his buddy has come to resent who Laois is without actually telling him. All too often the friends that we love to hang out with, people that we're so happy to spend time with, don't feel the same way and in many cases, come to blame us for our social cues or lack thereof.

And when/if we do eventually find out how our friend feels, Dungeon Meshi hits us with another painful panel of how that usually ends up playing out.

It's hard for Adults with Autism to make friends, and even harder to maintain them because alot of the ways Neurotypicals tell other Neurotypicals that they don't like a certain behavior is by quietly disengaging. Whether that involves having one sentence answers, going quiet, or having a certain tone in their voice, all those things signal annoyance or disapproval, but for the Neurodivergents, those subtle cues are completely missed.

And yet when we inevitably discover we DID do something, it is natural to ask "well why didn't you tell me?" because in our minds, it should've been the next step in the equation. However for the Neurotypicals, that's NOT something to bring up. Its important to be SUBTLE about the issue at hand and rely on signals to tell the other person. Blame is placed on us for not noticing the "obvious" signs of disapproval rather than the idea of talking it out as such things are uncomfortable and harder to do. Alot of the time what ends up happening is resentment due to the idea that it was "obvious" and the fact one didn't notice indicates a deliberate ignorance rather than a complete unawareness. It ends up calling into question our quality as a person and our sincerity. We get called "fake" or "malicious" or even "stupid" for failing social cues rather than questioning the decision to be indirect and vague.

For a manga about exploring the dungeon, it seems that the artist would rather explore very real and prevalent dynamics in society with the adventuring premise as a backdrop. I felt VERY seen in these panels, and many others, because it happens so suddenly and dare I say it, plainly. There's no dramatic build-up or spectacle made and in essence, it just Happens.

I think that's what makes the scene hit even harder. It seemingly comes out of nowhere for Laois, like how it always comes out of nowhere for alot of people, and it's never a dramatic twist either. It's always mundane and hurtful. A sudden unforeseen bump in the road that ends up calling into question one's entire friendship with someone and consequent other friendships. It asks "what if other friends feel the same. What if the people that I really like actually hate me and I don't know it?" Or at least that's what I came away with after reading the chapter. I've been where Laois was and the only reason I'm not there now is because I lost the naivete I had and doubt everyone else's sincerity.

[eloquentlytired]

18+ NSFW. MDNI.

dreamlike — tommy miller x fem reader

warnings: slightly dark content, dark!tommy, smut, unspecified age gap but reader is over 22+, masturbation, handjob, cheating, tommy’s moral compass breaks down, unclothed grinding, surprise ending, sex outdoors, tension, maria ily this isn't personal I just rlly like ur man

notes: hi guys it's been 100 years I'm sorry ily + take this bc im ovulating 😎 tommy miller suddenly making me feel things bc of gabriel luna that's right. likes and reposts are appreciated🥹

“I don't think you've settled down quite just yet.” joel tells him one day while they're eating breakfast together. tommy glances, swallows then responds.

“I don't know what you mean.” but his eyes betray him as they return somewhere for the fifth time; at a distant specific table where you're reading some silly book again.

your food is yet to be touched while tommy’s and joel’s are nearly gone.

“tommy we're too old for this shit, you and I. you're my brother, I already know what you'll do before you even do it.” joel throws the bait and tommy bites it.

“I’m not doing anything joel except—”

“except eating Maria's food while throwing damn heart eyes at her.”

tommy hisses at joel’s truthful interruption, not so much at being interrupted but at the validation of those words.

“I’m just making sure she likes the food.” joel deadpans, tommy does the same right after because of his own words. gods, he is pathetic.

“fuck, just shoot me already.” joel shrugs at his brother's words and doesn't even try to hide the fact that he's grinning. “tell your wife, I'm sure she'll be delighted.”

tommy shakes his head and keeps on eating. he stresses over his thoughts so much that, lucky for you, he misses your piercing gaze and the bite of your lips.

he spends days trying to blame it on something other than him being a terrible person. the breakout, the virus, the living circumstances, the we need to work faster from Maria or that everyone depends on him for the hard stuff.

sure, tommy had chosen this in the first place but he doesn't even know if he wants whatever this is anymore. what does he want?

“mister miller!”

the tension leaves his shoulders as he watches you walk towards him, only wearing that favourite sundress of yours and an oversized jacket.

it's the first real summer that wyoming has felt since the outbreak. tommy only appreciates it because he's too lazy to gear up for winter.

“you’re early.” he says and finds himself smiling as you flop down beside him, sitting on the green weeds.

the snow is still melting but it doesn't make things less cold — but clearly you don't feel the cold he does.

“I helped in the kitchen so they let me off early.” you explain and tommy hums. he thinks about the past months when he'd found you during patrol, covered by the snow and nearly dead. he'd never ridden back home faster, urging for the medics to help you out and thank gods they'd done a great job. now you were here, a few months later, and trusting him more than anyone else while tommy was just a straight up bastard.

he fed you more than others, brought you new clothes that you might like and most importantly showed you his spot. that well hidden spot outside the fences which was an hour's walk away... it wasn't even special but it was spacious and quiet and a little cleaner — and suddenly he was calling it our spot instead of my spot.

for months you'd come here, chat with him and draw in your worn out notebook. the pages were running out and tommy made a mental note to find you a new one. fuck.

“what’s this?” tommy murmurs while his hand points at a very specific drawing on the left page.

he seems to pale while you just feel yourself growing hot. you'd drew him back in the cafeteria when he was looking at you, when he thought you were so unaware of his eyes but you always knew.

“I just—” you try to find the right words, or better yet the right excuse, but you can't. “I just did it.”

tommy catches on your tone as if you were afraid to receive a reaction. his reply surprises you.

“do I really look at you that way?” he asks and you nod, the strap of your dress falling off your shoulder clearly to test him.

tommy has never succeeded in any tests in his entire life.

you lay on the ground, indifferent about the weeds tangling in your hair. tommy’s face hovers over yours as he kisses you, one of his hands sneaking beneath your dress to squeeze your thigh and nothing more.

“tommy.” he swallows his own name from your lips, his lips kissing you feverishly yet the rest of his body doesn't dare move. tommy just sticks to laying beside you while his elbow achingly supports his weight.

he cannot trust himself to move, to slip between your thighs and only kiss.

the hand he's placed on your thigh earlier starts to retreat but you don't let it as you use both of your hands to capture his wrist.

“sweetheart.” tommy warns, his eyes blown wide with lust while his chest heaves up and down. he’s affected by this, feeling overwhelmingly lustful like he's young again, while also fearing the consequences of this. the aftermath of it.

for the first time you don't listen to him, pushing his hand between your thighs until his fingers come in contact with your soaked panties.

you hear him cursing beneath his breath, fuck this, as he touches you after what feels like forever.

he rubs you through your panties, his massive hand feeling the material soaking further as his thumb finds your clit. your head turns and you bury it in his chest while tommy just rubs.

his breath is hitched and he's in a far worse state than you for a different type of reasons. you drool on his shirt and throb against his fingers because you're excited, you feel good. on the other hand, tommy cups and fondles your pussy possessively while stressing over the limits. he can't do more than this — he shouldn't.

“can I touch your cock?” you whisper almost too shyly and tommy wishes joel would have just shot him when he had asked the first time.

your hand unzips his trousers and takes out his cock because tommy has obviously agreed, because it's your fault for looking at him with those sparkling eyes.

your foreheads collide as tommy touches you and you touch him.

his fingers eventually sneak beneath your panties because he wants it to be fair, you're touching his bare cock so he's entitled to your pussy right?— or maybe he really is just an asshole deep down.

nothing like the tommy that maria loves, nothing like the tommy that everybody respects. no, once again he's the tommy miller that only joel knows.

your fingers circle around his cock, feeling it at first, before caressing every inch of skin you can get. your eyes are on tommy’s as your foreheads keep touching and a soft smile occupies your face while you stroke his cock.

you're smiling and touching his dick and tommy likes it too much.

“you need a new notebook, don't you?” tommy asks through gritted as your fingers squeeze around his hard cock. because it's definitely the right time for conversations.

you nod, mouth slightly agape as his fingers circle your swollen clit and then dip between your lips, feeling you dripping.

“anything else?” he asks too softly while his nose brushes against yours, offering some intimacy that isn't just sexual.

“pencils?” you don't order him or demand. you ask because you care and tommy likes that you care in that way. it's always only if it's okay with you and that's exactly how he needs it.

“notebooks.. pencils.. whatever you say, it'll happen.” he slaps your pussy, not too hard, and you whimper.

you can feel your nipples hardening beneath your dress while your pussy simply leaks for tommy miller. your legs shift and you spread them.

tommy sways his hips, fucks his cock into your tight but soft fist and curses.

the summer breeze carries your soft whimpers and tommy’s gentle grunts. your hand strokes him a little faster as your thumb purposely brushes against his sensitive slit and you don't fail to notice the way tommy’s hips twitch when you do it.

the front of his shirt is a mix of your drying drool and his sweat but it doesn't bother him. his solid focus is to fuck your small fist and, of course, to pleasure you which is his first priority.

tommy can handle you, his middle finger circling your wet entrance slowly before he pushes in, the slide smoother than he'd expected. he adds a second finger minutes later, then a third.

you stroke his cock as he thrusts his fingers inside your pussy and for a while nothing else really matters.

the squelching of your cunt is loud and tommy curls his fingers inside you, reaching a place that makes you see stars. “tommy!” you gasp in that angelic voice and he goes a little crazy, fingers digging into your sweet spot as he becomes a little desperate with his thrusts.

your lower tummy shudders with delight and your thighs flex as his fingers thrust into your tight pussy recklessly, poking at those sensitive nerves every damn time.

tommy thinks you warn him about your orgasm but he's also not sure as he's too busy watching your face and your pussy reacting simultaneously. your eyebrows furrow and your mouth forms a small ‘O’ as your walls are suddenly gripping his fingers too tight, too deep.

you cum with a shuddering moan of his name and coat his fingers generously, becoming a spectacle. you squirt for him, because of him, and he'd draw out more if it wasn't for time running away from you two.

tommy seems confused when you push his hand away but then everything happens so fast. he can't stop it, he swears.

he watches as you roll to your side, your chest brushing against his, and slip his cock between your thighs. tommy can't breath when his entire girth slides between your pussy lips, soaking through, until his tip kisses your clit.

“no sweetheart—” tommy warns weakly but you're already moving, swaying. his cock is wet with your juices as it slides against your pussy, harder than ever, and he is utterly defeated.

“please cum on my pussy.” you mumble against his lips and he kisses you otherwise he might do worse. he satiates himself with this situation, sucking your bottom lip while thrusting his hips upwards and taking half of what he wants. something he doesn't deserve.

his balls swell and then clench as he orgasms, lowering his hips a little to cum on your pussy. he fulfils his promise, painting the surface white with his cum before resting his forehead on yours again. spent.

it's quiet for a long time as his arms remain lazily wrapped around your body. you melt against him, into him, and you two do your best to catch your breath.

when he looks at you again, the sun is setting right behind you and making you look surreal. you're like a dream while tommy is just there with a stupid smile on his face and half indecent because of what you've done.

then suddenly he doesn't feel real, his body is all too light before it gets incredibly heavy.

he hears his name being called out repeatedly tommy tommy tommy and he jumps, looking around with sweat dripping down his back.

maria stands over him as he lays on the couch because he's home — not outside the fence. not with you.

“I told you to cut day drinking with joel. he's bringing back old habits.” his wife tells him, pressing a kiss on his forehead before walking away.

tommy rises and stumbles to the window. the snow is still there, white and thick, while the red calendar on the wall reads December 25 like it's a fucking joke. like he'd never met you secretly in the spot that belongs to you and him.

reality hits hard as you pass by his house, that familiar notebook resting against your chest as you hug it preciously. you look at him instinctively, as if feeling his burning gaze, and you smile.

“merry christmas, mister miller!” you yell cheerfully and tommy nods, forcing his best smile.

miracles can only go so far and in the end, tommy can be content with just dreams.

[jordiemeow]

can you imagine doing the “current boyfriend” trend on joaquin

had to ask my friends what this trend was ijbol but it's too cute :((

It's a joke. Something light. It’s a tired prank, sure, but you know Joaquín hasn’t quite caught on yet; he doesn't have the screentime to recognise it. This is my current boyfriend followed by some confused or mildly betrayed look from boyfriend in question. You can't resist the urge, partly because he's always so confidently secure in your relationship, and partly because you love catching him off guard.

He's sitting at the kitchen table, completely unaware he's about to be the punch line to something, hunched over a bowl of cereal and chewing like he has a vendetta against Honey Nut Cheerios. The sunlight hits him just right, lighting up a flare of gold in his curls, the sharp line of his jaw, the sleepy crease still pressed into his cheek from the nap he'd taken earlier.

You can't not do it.

"Wanna be in my TikTok?" You greet, chipper, sliding into the chair next to him.

He grunts in a way that probably means yes, or at least not no. Spoon to mouth. Repeat. Good enough for you. You hit record.

"Okay, so I'm with Joaquín, my current boyfriend—"

The camera pans to him comically. His mouth is full, spoon halfway to his lips, and you receive a very aggressive side-eye. An adorable furrow between his brows and a bewildered (if slightly grumpy) repetition: "Current boyfriend?"

Naturally, you play dumb. "That is what you are, isn't it?"

"Current? Babe." He sets his spoon down, looking dead serious. "Current?" He reiterates incredulously. "Like there's a future line-up waiting or something?"

You try to hold back a laugh. He's not even mad. He's wounded, in that over-the-top, only-half-kidding way that makes your chest ache a little and your smile widen all at once.

"No, I just mean that we're currently dating. Like, as of right now, you are my boyfriend. Didn't think you needed the dictionary definition, but if I really must—"

"Am I a subscription plan now?" He interrupts, scandalised. "Are there tiers? Is someone else waiting for their trial to start?"

"Relax. You're on the premium plan. No ads, no hidden fees." You pause, then add tentatively: "It's just a trend, Joaquín. You know, you're supposed to get all fake upset with me like I've just broken your heart." (You're pretty sure you had.) "I didn't mean it. I've got plans for you, Torres. Big, lifelong ones."

His shoulders slump with relief. A half-smile, one that doesn't quite meet his eyes. Your heart aches. "Well, that's dumb. I guess I just heard it and thought 'current' sounds temporary. Like there's an expiration date."

"You're not my current anything. You're my always. I just thought it was funny. I'm sorry."

"No, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to overthink it. I guess I just love you too much to joke about being temporary." That's the part of him you adore. The softness that sneaks in when he’s not trying to be anything but real. How he could ever think he's anything but the one for you blows your mind when he makes you feel so giddy over little phrases like that.

Oh, how that tugs on your heartstrings. "You realise how insanely boyfriend-of-the-year that sentence is, right?"

That finally pulls a real smile from him—wide, bashful, dimpled. "I mean... if the title fits."

You plant a quick, sweet kiss to his mouth. "It fits. And it's permanent, just so you know."

"Good. Because I was planning on making a TikTok and calling you my starter girlfriend. See how you like it."

"You wouldn't dare," you pout, swatting his shoulder playfully.

"Oh, I dare. Just wait." He's already reaching for his phone. "I'll hit 'em with 'starter girlfriend, who will evolve into fiancée.' Boom. Trend ended."

"Joaquín."

"What? I'm future-proofing this relationship."

And there it is. His innate ability to turn a joke into something real. Something permanent.

[reidmarieprentiss]

Could you perhaps write something? It’s the readers birthday and Reid waits all day to see if she brings it up, but they never do. So he shows up at her apartment with a gift for her and tells her he’ll always remember her birthday, even if she doesn’t tell anyone when it is. And then a little smut occurs. 😱

Birthday Surprise

Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!reader

Category: smut (18+), fluff

Warnings/Includes: smut (18+) additional warnings under the cut, forgotten birthday

Word count: 7.9k

a/n: this is such a great idea i'm so sorry it took me forever to get around to writing it !! it's probably way smuttier than you thought lolol i was in a smut slump but we're back !

main masterlist

Additional warnings: oral (fem receiving) protected PinV

The day unfolds like any other, with the usual rush of paperwork, coffee runs, and the occasional moment of laughter echoing through the bullpen. You stay focused on your work, avoiding any unnecessary interactions that might draw attention to yourself. After all, it’s your birthday, but you’ve chosen to keep that to yourself. It feels strange, withholding such personal information, but in a high-stakes environment like this, there’s a part of you that prefers to blend into the background. Birthdays aren't meant to be a spectacle here. 

You glance around the room, noticing the typical energy coursing through the space, unaware that a pair of eyes have been subtly watching you all morning. Spencer Reid, as meticulous with people as he is with facts, has always been someone who notices the little things others tend to miss. Today, it’s your silence, the absence of a celebratory card, or a slice of cake that catches his attention. He’s well aware of what today means, not because you told him, but because he knows. Just like he knows the birthdays of every other team member, except yours is different—yours matters more to him. 

Spencer taps his pen against his notebook, his gaze drifting toward you. He debates internally whether to say anything, to let you know he’s aware. He’s read enough about social norms to understand that birthdays often come with expectations—balloons, cake, a few awkwardly sung lines of "Happy Birthday"—but that’s not your style. He’s noticed how you avoid the spotlight, how you prefer quiet moments over public celebrations. Still, he wonders if there’s something you’re hoping for today.

Penelope, typically the beacon of all things celebratory, hasn’t said anything either. But Spencer figures you’ve kept it quiet on purpose. He knows Penelope would have plastered the office with decorations had she been aware, and since the office remains as normal as ever, Spencer figures you’re not in the mood for that kind of attention.

He watches you, waiting for a sign—a smile, a quick glance his way, anything that might suggest you’d appreciate a private acknowledgment. When nothing comes, he respects your decision, but there’s a gnawing feeling inside him. Birthdays are supposed to be special, and even though you’ve chosen not to celebrate, he can’t just let it pass without doing something. Not for you.

The day comes to an end, and not a single word has been spoken about your birthday. You’ve kept it quiet, of course, but still, the silence lingers a bit more than you expected. Not from anyone else, and not from you. Spencer has watched the day unfold in his quiet, observant way, and though he knows you’re not one for grand gestures, he can’t let this pass unnoticed. 

After leaving the office, Spencer’s mind is already set on what he needs to do. He stops by your favorite restaurant, carefully picking up dinner. You never told him your favorite spot, but he’s always been the kind of person who pays attention to the little things—especially when it comes to you. He takes pride in knowing these details, even if he’s never made a show of it.

From there, he heads to a local bakery, the door chiming just as the frustrated baker is about to close. Spencer, out of breath and apologetic, manages to convince the baker to stay open just long enough to get a small cake with your name written on it. The generous tip helps, but more than anything, it’s the desperation in Spencer’s voice that softens the baker’s resolve. 

Now, standing outside your front door with his arms full—dinner in one hand, cake in the other—he uses his elbow to press the doorbell, feeling a flicker of nervousness that’s unusual for him. He never shows up unannounced like this, but he knows this is different. This matters.

Inside, you’re curled up on the couch, completely absorbed in the book your parents sent you as a gift. It’s one you’ve been dying to read for months, and it’s been the perfect way to end your quiet day. The unexpected ring of the doorbell pulls you from your peaceful moment, your brow furrowing slightly as you set the book down. 

You tiptoe toward the door, glancing out the sheer blinds to see who it could possibly be at this hour. When you spot Spencer standing there, your heart skips a beat. You quickly open the door, a confused grin tugging at your lips.

"Reid?" you ask, your voice light but puzzled. "What are you doing here?"

He shifts awkwardly, his arms still burdened with dinner and the cake, and there’s a sheepishness in his expression that’s both endearing and unexpected. 

"Happy birthday," he says, though it comes out more like a question, his uncertainty evident.

Your heart swells at the sight of him, the surprise of his gesture hitting you all at once. You glance at the dinner in one hand, the cake in the other, and something warm blooms in your chest.

"Thank you," you say, your voice soft as you open the door wider. "Come in, please."

Spencer followed you into the kitchen, his eyes subtly taking in the details of your small, cozy home. It occurred to you that this was the first time he had ever been inside, and that realization only added to the strange, fluttery feeling that had been building inside you since he showed up at your door.

He set the bags down on the counter, the quiet clinking of takeout containers filling the brief silence between you. 

“How, um... how did you know it was my birthday?” you asked softly, a hint of shyness in your voice. 

Spencer didn’t look up immediately, making himself busy with the food, carefully unpacking it as though it were an everyday task. “I would never forget your birthday, Y/N,” he replied, his voice so matter-of-fact yet warm. 

His words struck something deep inside you, and your heart swelled all over again, the warmth spreading through your chest and into your limbs. “Reid... that's so sweet,” you murmured, barely able to contain the emotion in your voice.

He smiled over his shoulder at you, that soft, almost boyish grin that made everything feel lighter. “I hope this is okay,” he said, turning around to show you what he had brought. “I guessed you’d like this.”

You blinked, staring at the familiar containers in his hands, and your breath caught in your throat. It wasn’t just any takeout—it was your favorite order from your absolute favorite restaurant. Your mind struggled to process how he could have known, and your body felt like it was on the verge of exploding with a tidal wave of affection and gratitude.

“H–how?” you stammered, unable to get out anything more coherent as your emotions threatened to overwhelm you.

Spencer shrugged in that sweet, almost bashful way he did sometimes, his eyes meeting yours as he simply said, “I pay attention.”

Those three words hit you harder than anything else he could’ve said. It wasn’t just the dinner, or the cake, or even the fact that he’d remembered your birthday without you saying a word—it was that he saw you, truly noticed you, in ways you didn’t think anyone ever did.

Without thinking, you stepped closer, your eyes soft and full of everything you couldn’t put into words. “Reid, you didn’t have to do all of this,” you whispered, but there was no mistaking the happiness in your tone.

He smiled gently, placing the food down on the counter. “I know,” he said, his voice soft, “but I wanted to.”

And just like that, your quiet birthday became something more than you ever could have expected—because of him.

As the two of you settled into an easy rhythm of conversation over dinner, it felt surprisingly natural—despite the unexpectedness of the evening. You sat across from each other at your small kitchen table, the soft clinking of forks against takeout containers punctuating the space between your words. Spencer, usually so reserved and careful, seemed more relaxed, as if the intimacy of the moment had broken down some of his usual barriers.

“You know,” Spencer began between bites, “this restaurant has one of the highest customer satisfaction ratings in the area. I didn’t just pick it at random—I wanted to make sure it was perfect.” He looked up at you, his eyes bright with sincerity.

You smiled, taking in how thoughtful he had been without even realizing how much it meant to you. "I can’t believe you went to so much trouble for this. I really don’t expect anything big for my birthday."

Spencer shrugged, his expression so genuine it made your heart ache just a little. "Well, it’s not just any day. It’s your day. And you deserve to feel special."

His words landed gently, but with a depth that made your pulse quicken. You had always seen Spencer as more than a colleague, but you’d never really considered him in a romantic light. The way he was speaking tonight, though, made you notice things about him you hadn’t before.

“You’re really thoughtful, Reid,” you said, picking at your food, your voice soft. “I don’t think I’ve ever had someone remember the little things like you do.”

He glanced at you with a shy smile, pushing his glasses up slightly. “I like to notice the important things. People tend to overlook those details, but they matter.”

His words hung in the air for a moment, and you suddenly realized how much attention he must’ve been paying all this time. Spencer was always observant—he was a profiler, after all—but this was different. He was talking about you, not in a way that made you feel studied, but in a way that made you feel seen.

“I guess I’ve never really thought about it like that,” you replied, your voice light, though your heart felt anything but. “Most people don’t pay that much attention.”

Spencer looked at you intently then, his gaze soft but unwavering. “It’s hard not to pay attention to you.”

The statement was simple, but the way he said it felt like something more. You felt your cheeks warm, caught off guard by the realization that Spencer Reid might see you in a way you hadn’t seen yourself.

“Reid, I—” you started, but he interrupted, not even realizing the shift in the conversation.

“And you’re always so organized with your case files,” he continued, a small smile playing on his lips. “I appreciate that about you. You make my job easier, and honestly, it’s hard not to enjoy working with you.”

You laughed softly, feeling flustered but trying to keep it light. “You make me sound like I’m perfect or something.”

He tilted his head, a thoughtful look crossing his face. “I don’t think you give yourself enough credit. I’ve always thought you were... well, pretty amazing.”

“I... I didn’t know you felt that way,” you admitted quietly, playing with your fork to avoid looking directly at him.

Spencer, seemingly oblivious to the weight of his own words, shrugged again. “I'm not always good at saying what I’m thinking, but you’ve always stood out to me. I guess it’s just… obvious to me.”

The sincerity in his voice caught you off guard, and for the first time, you found yourself really considering Spencer Reid in a different light. Sure, he was brilliant, kind, and more attractive than you’d ever let yourself dwell on—but you had never imagined he might see you that way.

You felt... average. Just you. How could someone like Spencer, with his genius mind and thoughtful nature, possibly see you as anything more than a friend or colleague?

As you looked across the table at him, his expression soft and open, you realized that maybe—just maybe—you had been wrong about where you stood with him.

After the plates were cleared, you and Spencer sat side by side, laughing as you decided to abandon any pretense of formality and dig into the cake with forks. It was just the two of you, after all, and the evening had become too comfortable for anything else. Every bite seemed to add to the warmth between you, and even though neither of you had touched a drop of alcohol, it felt like you were both intoxicated—drunk on the unexpected affection and connection between you.

You noticed Spencer watching you with an intensity that was both thrilling and unsettling. His gaze felt heavier than usual, more present, more... intentional. You couldn’t help but smile, feeling a little self-conscious under his watchful eyes. “What?” you asked, your voice light but breathless as your lips curled into a small, uncertain smile.

Spencer let out a soft laugh, a sound so gentle it sent warmth coursing through you. He shifted closer, his hand lifting, and before you could process what was happening, his palm was cupping the side of your face. His thumb brushed across your lips tenderly, lingering there. 

“You have...” he murmured, eyes never leaving yours, “some frosting.”

His touch was electric, sending a shiver through you, though you were frozen in place. Your lips parted slightly in surprise, but you couldn’t move. Spencer's thumb continued to gently trace the curve of your bottom lip, the moment stretching between you, thick with something you hadn’t realized was there until now.

He leaned in a little closer, his breath brushing your skin as he whispered, “Y/N… I’m going to kiss you. Is that okay?”

His words, soft and tentative, sent your pulse racing, and you barely registered the nod you gave in response. But that was all he needed. Spencer's gaze flicked down to your lips, and he closed the remaining distance slowly, as if giving you every chance to stop him, though you knew you wouldn’t.

His lips met yours gently, a hesitant kiss that was soft, warm, and everything you hadn’t realized you’d been craving. The world seemed to fall away for a moment, leaving just the two of you, locked in something fragile and sweet.

Spencer’s hand stayed cradling your face as he deepened the kiss just slightly, his lips moving against yours with a tenderness that made your heart ache. When he finally pulled back, just enough to look at you, his forehead rested gently against yours, and his eyes were still closed as if he were savoring the moment.

“Was that okay?” he asked quietly, his voice thick with emotion, still holding onto the last traces of your kiss.

You let out a shaky breath, your hands instinctively finding their way to his chest. “Mhm, very okay,” you whispered, smiling softly as your heart raced in your chest.

Spencer opened his eyes slowly, a hint of a smile tugging at his lips. The room felt heavier with meaning now, but it was the kind of weight you welcomed, a sense that things had shifted between you in the best possible way.

“Can I do it again?” Spencer asked, his voice playful, his lips pulling into a silly grin that made your heart flip. 

You couldn’t help but giggle at his eagerness, your cheeks warming as you nodded once more. This time, though, you didn’t wait for him to make the first move. You leaned up toward him, your hands sliding from his chest to the back of his neck, your fingers gently threading through the soft strands of his hair.

Spencer’s hands moved from where they had been resting on your face, sliding down to your waist as he pulled you in closer, your bodies now pressed together with a new, delicious kind of tension. He let out a soft, happy hum, the sound vibrating through you, making you feel like your entire body was alight with warmth. 

When you felt his tongue gently part your lips, exploring your mouth with such tender care, you couldn’t help the soft, sweet moan that escaped you. The sound seemed to stir something in Spencer, and you felt his fingers tighten on your waist just as a low, deep groan rumbled from his chest.

Encouraged by his reaction, you tangled your fingers further into his hair, pulling him closer, deepening the kiss. The world outside this moment seemed to fade even more, leaving just the feeling of Spencer against you, the intoxicating heat between your bodies, and the soft sounds of contentment that passed between you both.

Each kiss was deeper than the last, each touch more deliberate, as if you were both slowly learning a new language made of gentle caresses and lingering glances. Spencer’s lips were soft and insistent against yours, but always so tender, as if he was savoring each moment, never wanting to rush. The feeling of his body pressed so intimately against yours, his hands gripping your waist like he never wanted to let go, made your pulse race.

Spencer pulled back ever so slowly, his teeth grazing your bottom lip, leaving a trail of heat in their wake. You let out a soft whine, your body instinctively leaning forward, both at the loss of his lips and the delicious pull of his teeth. He rested his forehead against yours, his eyes closed as he tried to catch his breath, the air between you thick with unspoken feelings.

"You have no idea how long I've wanted to do that," he murmured, his voice soft and almost breathless, a small smile playing at the corners of his mouth.

Your heart skipped at his words, and you tilted your head slightly, curiosity getting the better of you. "How long?" you asked, your voice just as quiet, as if speaking too loudly might break the fragile intimacy between you.

Spencer laughed, the sound low and almost bashful. "Two years and three months," he said with a soft chuckle, his breath tickling your skin.

You paused for a moment, realizing how specific that time frame was. Then it hit you. "That's... that's when I started at the BAU," you said slowly, your mind racing to piece it together.

He nodded, his forehead still resting gently against yours, his breath mingling with yours in the small space between. "Since the first day I saw you, I knew you were special."

His words hung in the air, and something inside you shifted. You could feel the weight of his confession settle in your chest, and it only made the moment feel more intense, more real. Spencer had been feeling this way for so long, waiting patiently, watching from the sidelines, all without you ever knowing.

That’s when you made your decision.

"Take me to the bedroom, Reid," you said, your voice steady but filled with anticipation.

Spencer pulled back instantly, his eyes wide in surprise, his expression almost comically stunned. "What?"

You held his gaze, your hand gently brushing his cheek as you repeated, more softly this time, "The bedroom, please?" You threw in your best puppy dog eyes, knowing it would be hard for him to say no.

For a moment, Spencer was frozen, his mind clearly racing to catch up with the reality of what was happening. "Okay—yeah, yeah," he stammered, still in shock but unable to hide the excitement building in his voice.

He stood back quickly, offering his hand to you with a mix of eagerness and hesitation. You took it, letting him pull you gently from the kitchen, the warmth of his palm against yours sparking something deep inside you. As he led you down the hallway toward the bedroom, your heart raced, the anticipation growing with every step. 

As soon as the bedroom door closed behind you, your hands were already tugging at Spencer’s sweater vest, pulling it over his head with eager fingers. His usually neat hair was left a little wild and messy, and you couldn't help but giggle softly at the sight. He grinned back at you, shaking his head like a dog trying to shake off water, making you laugh even harder.

"You're ridiculous," you teased, but your words were laced with affection.

Spencer just smiled wider, his eyes filled with mischief and desire. Without missing a beat, his hands found the hem of your shirt, slowly lifting it up as you raised your arms in surrender, allowing him to undress you with deliberate care. The fabric slipped over your head, and as soon as it was discarded to the floor, you could feel his gaze roaming over your body.

His eyes lingered on your chest, clearly noticing the absence of a bra, and the way his breath caught sent a shiver through you. There was something so intense, so reverent in the way he looked at you that it made your skin tingle. His hands found their way to your breasts, his touch gentle yet filled with hunger, as if he couldn’t quite believe this was happening.

Without another word, Spencer dipped his head back down, capturing your lips in another kiss that left you breathless. This time, it was deeper, more urgent, as if all the emotions he'd been holding back for years were pouring into this moment. His thumbs rubbed at your nipples as he kissed you, and you could feel his heart beating wildly against your chest, matching the rhythm of your own as you whined softly into his mouth.

Your hands found their way to his hair again, tangling in the soft strands as you pressed your body closer to his, craving more of him, more of the way his lips moved against yours, more of the way his hands explored you.

The moment you felt the unmistakable press of Spencer’s arousal against you, your instincts took over. Your hands trailed down, quickly working at the waistband of his pants, eager to feel more of him. Spencer’s fingers left your body only long enough to undo the buttons of his shirt, your breaths becoming heavier as the distance between you both shrank even more.

Soon, he was down to just his briefs, his skin warm against yours, and for a second, you thought he was about to pull you into another kiss. But instead, he surprised you by crouching down in front of you, his hands resting on your hips. You looked down at him with curiosity and amusement, tilting your head.

“What are you doing down there?” you asked, laughing softly, though your heart was racing.

Spencer looked up at you, and the look in his eyes sent a rush of warmth through your body. There was something almost reverent about the way he gazed at you, like you were the most precious thing he'd ever laid eyes on. “I have wanted this for so, so long,” he whispered, his voice thick with emotion. “I want to savor every little bit of you.”

His words made you flush with heat, the intensity of his desire crashing over you like a wave. Your entire body felt like it was on fire, and before you could say anything in response, Spencer's hands were moving again, removing the last pieces of your clothing as he kissed the newly exposed skin. 

And then, you were standing completely bare before him, your most intimate parts now level with his face. The vulnerability of the moment, combined with the raw hunger in Spencer’s eyes, made you feel dizzy, but you couldn’t look away.

It seemed like this was exactly what he had wanted all along. Without hesitation, he leaned in, his breath hot against your skin before his tongue traced a sure stripe through your slick folds. The sensation sent a jolt of pleasure up your spine, your knees almost buckling from the sheer intensity of it.

A gasp escaped your lips as Spencer continued, his mouth working with a determination that made it clear this was something he had imagined countless times before. His hands gripped your thighs, steadying you as he continued his ministrations, his tongue moving in slow, deliberate strokes designed to unravel you from the inside out.

You couldn’t stop the moan that escaped your lips, your fingers tangling in his hair once again as he savored you, just like he said he would.

"You taste better than I imagined," Spencer murmured between breaths, his voice thick with desire before he dove back in, his mouth moving over every inch of you, leaving no part untouched. His tongue was thorough, his lips relentless, and each movement made it harder for you to hold on to any coherent thoughts.

Your grip on his hair tightened as a desperate whimper escaped your lips. "You—ungh—you imagined this?" you managed to gasp out between moans, your voice shaky and breathless.

Spencer hummed against you in response, the vibration sending shockwaves of pleasure through your entire body. He didn’t stop, didn’t even slow down, his mouth latching onto your clit with more intensity, suctioning his lips tightly before shaking his head back and forth, creating a sensation so intense it made you scream out, your body trembling with the force of it.

The sound that left you was raw, completely involuntary, as waves of pleasure rolled through you, Spencer's hands gripping your thighs tighter to hold you steady as you lost yourself in the moment. He was relentless, devouring you with an eagerness that matched his earlier words. It was clear he had thought about this—dreamed about this—and now, with you here in front of him, he wasn’t going to waste a single second.

"Reid..." you moaned, your voice breaking as your entire body responded to his touch, your legs threatening to give out beneath you. Each movement of his tongue, each gentle bite or hum, pushed you closer and closer to the edge, and all you could do was hold on tight, letting him take you wherever he wanted you to go.

But then, just as you were teetering on the edge, Spencer pulled back, leaving you breathless and aching for more. The sudden absence of his touch made your body tremble, a desperate whine escaping your lips. When you looked down, confused and still dazed with pleasure, you noticed the almost stern look in his eyes, his lips glistening as he gazed up at you.

"Spencer," he said, his voice low, full of intent.

Your brow furrowed slightly, your mind hazy from the high you had been riding. "What?" you managed to ask, your voice breathless and needy.

His eyes softened, but his expression remained firm. "Call me Spencer," he repeated, his tone a mixture of command and affection, as if this small detail mattered more than anything in that moment.

Before you could fully process it, he leaned back in, parting you gently with his thumbs to give himself even more access. The feeling was overwhelming, your body trembling as he resumed his ministrations with renewed intensity, his tongue and mouth working in tandem, more precise and focused than before.

The need in you swelled again, even stronger than before, and this time, you couldn’t hold back the moans that spilled from your lips. "Spencer," you gasped, his name escaping your lips like a prayer, your body arching into him as he pushed you further and further toward the edge.

Hearing his name on your lips seemed to spur him on, his movements growing even more deliberate as he devoured you with every ounce of the hunger he had been holding back. You were completely at his mercy, unable to think, unable to do anything but feel as he brought you closer and closer to the peak of pleasure, his name falling from your lips again and again.

Spencer could sense how close you were, your breath hitching and your body trembling beneath his touch. He doubled his efforts, his tongue moving with precision and urgency, his fingers pressing against your thighs to keep you steady. The need to see you completely unravel, to give you that release, spurred him on as he focused entirely on you.

Your moans grew louder, more desperate, and then, finally, the tension that had been building in your core snapped. You tilted your head back, your body arching as the overwhelming pleasure took over. With a loud, uncontrolled moan, your hands found Spencer’s hair, gripping it tightly, tugging hard as you released, your body shuddering and your mind reeling from the intensity of it all.

Spencer didn’t stop, his mouth never leaving you as he worked you through your climax, swallowing everything you offered him. The feel of your fingers gripping his hair, the way your body shook as you released in his mouth—it was everything he’d dreamed of, and more. Only when your body began to calm, your breath evening out, did he slowly pull back, his lips brushing against your skin one last time, savoring the moment.

He looked up at you, his eyes dark and full of satisfaction as you slowly came back to reality. You were still breathless, your body weak from the intensity of your orgasm, but the way Spencer looked at you, filled with awe and admiration, made you feel like you were floating.

"That," he murmured softly, "was everything."

“Uh huh,” you mumbled, still floating in the afterglow, your head in the clouds, your body humming with the remnants of pleasure. Spencer slowly rose from his knees, his hands gently skimming your skin as he stood to his full height, a soft, amused smile playing on his lips as he looked down at you.

“You with me, beautiful?” he asked, his voice full of warmth and amusement as he stroked your hair, fingers threading through the strands tenderly.

You blinked up at him, your eyes still hazy with satisfaction, but your smile was soft and content. “I’m with you,” you replied, voice breathy but sincere, your whole body feeling like it was made of light.

Spencer chuckled, the sound affectionate and full of something deeper. “Good, good,” he murmured, his eyes searching yours for any sign of hesitation. “Do you want to keep going?”

A slow smile spread across your lips, and the way you said, “Please, Spencer,” made his heart race with excitement and affection.

Spencer grinned, the playful glint in his eyes returning as he gently guided you down onto the pillows, his hands firm but tender. He leaned over you, his fingers brushing your cheek as he whispered, “Anything for the birthday girl.”

With that, Spencer lowered himself over you, his body pressing against yours with a sweet, delicious heat. You could feel the warmth of him, the anticipation growing as his lips found yours once again, slow and lingering, savoring every second. His hands explored your body as though he wanted to memorize every curve, every inch of your skin, and the way he touched you made your heart race all over again.

This wasn’t just about physical pleasure anymore—it was about something deeper, something that had been quietly building between you both for much longer than either of you had realized.

"Can you..." you started, but then hesitated, suddenly feeling a wave of shyness crash over you. This was Reid, after all, your colleague and friend, someone you'd see at work tomorrow. The reality of that hit you, and it made your heart race for an entirely different reason now.

Spencer, noticing the shift in your demeanor, raised an eyebrow, his voice soft and reassuring. "Can I what, darling?" he asked, a small, amused smile on his lips as he looked down at you.

You shook your head, trying to brush it off, but Spencer’s expression quickly shifted to concern. His hands, which had been tracing gentle patterns on your skin, paused, and his voice became softer, more serious. "Y/N... are you okay?"

You let out a quiet sigh, nodding, but there was still a lingering tension in your chest. "Just... is this going to be weird tomorrow?" you asked, your voice barely above a whisper. The intimacy of the moment, the emotions wrapped up in everything that had just happened—it suddenly felt fragile when faced with the idea of seeing him at the office the next day, going back to the usual routine like nothing had changed.

Spencer's face softened even more, and he tilted his head, his eyes searching yours. "Weird?" he repeated, his voice thoughtful, as if he was carefully considering your words. He shifted slightly, his hand coming up to gently stroke your cheek. "No, Y/N, this doesn’t have to be weird."

You blinked up at him, your heart settling slightly at his calm demeanor. He continued, his voice gentle but certain. "We can take it one day at a time, okay? But if you're worried about work, nothing between us will change unless you want it to. I care about you too much to let this ruin anything.”

"If anything, this makes everything better," Spencer continued softly, his eyes full of sincerity as his hand stayed gently on your cheek. "I’ve wanted to be close to you for so long. I wouldn’t do anything to mess that up or make you feel uncomfortable. We can handle this however you want—slow, steady, or even just keeping it between us for now."

His words soothed the unease that had started to form, the tenderness in his tone making it clear that he wasn’t rushing anything, wasn’t trying to push for something more than what you were ready for. Spencer, as always, was careful, deliberate, and understanding. The way he looked at you, the way he touched you, made you feel safe, even in this new, uncertain territory.

You took a deep breath, feeling some of the weight lift from your chest. "I just… I don’t want this to change things in a bad way," you admitted, your fingers lightly brushing over his arm as he hovered over you, your bodies still close but the air between you calmer now.

Spencer shook his head, his smile warm and full of affection. "It won’t. I promise. I’ll still be me, you’ll still be you. And we’ll figure out whatever this is together, one step at a time. You don’t have to worry about work or anything else right now. Just... be here with me tonight."

You felt a sense of relief wash over you, his words grounding you in the moment. The fear of what tomorrow might bring began to fade as you looked up at him, trusting that Spencer, with all his care and thoughtfulness, would never let this turn into something that would hurt either of you.

"Okay," you whispered, offering him a small smile. "I’m here with you."

Spencer’s face lit up with a soft, almost shy grin as he leaned down, pressing a gentle kiss to your lips, his hands once again finding their way to your waist, holding you close as if reassuring you through his touch.

“Good,” he murmured against your lips, his breath warm and comforting. "Because I’m not going anywhere."

With that, the tension between you melted away, leaving only the quiet intimacy of the moment. Spencer guided you back onto the pillows, his movements slow and deliberate as he kissed you again, this time with more ease and tenderness, making it clear that whatever happened next would be on your terms, whenever you were ready.

Spencer groaned deeply into your mouth as you pushed his briefs down, your hand wrapping around him, stroking him with just enough pressure to make his breath hitch. You guided him into position, your need for him clear in the way your body responded. His lips never left yours, but his breath grew more ragged as the tension between you mounted.

“Are you sure?” he whispered, his lips brushing against yours, his voice thick with restraint.

You whimpered in response, the feeling of him grinding against you, the tip of his cock hitting your clit, making it impossible to think of anything else. “Please, Spencer,” you begged, your voice trembling with need. “I want you so badly. Please.”

He let out a strained groan, his breath coming in quick, shallow bursts as your words washed over him. "Okay, okay," he whispered, trying to soothe you even though he was losing his own control. "Shh, you never have to beg me for anything, ever."

Your body writhed beneath him, desperate for more, for him, and you shifted your hips instinctively, trying to coax him to push inside. The anticipation was almost too much to bear, and your need for him was palpable in every shaky breath you took.

Spencer, however, managed to hold onto a sliver of resolve, even as it wore thin. "Y/N, beautiful," he said, his voice rough, "we need to use a condom."

"Top drawer," you gasped, your words nearly a plea as your body moved beneath him, craving the release only he could give you. "Hurry!"

With a nod, Spencer fumbled toward the bedside table, pulling the drawer open with shaky hands. He found the box quickly, tearing it open with urgency. Your eyes stayed locked on him, watching every movement, your chest rising and falling rapidly, your skin burning with need.

He returned to you swiftly, sliding the condom on with practiced care, though his hands were trembling. The moment he was ready, he positioned himself above you again, his eyes filled with both desire and affection as he leaned down to kiss you, this time slower, savoring the feel of your lips against his.

"I'm here," he whispered, his voice softer now, filled with reassurance as he finally pressed forward, slowly pushing inside of you, the sensation sending a wave of pleasure crashing through both of you.

Your head fell back against the pillows, a loud, satisfied moan escaping your lips as he filled you completely, your body welcoming him in a way that felt natural, perfect. Spencer groaned, his breath hitching as he felt your tight walls constrict even further around him. 

"Y/N, darling, relax, please," Spencer panted, his voice laced with both urgency and concern as he struggled to hold himself back, his body tense with restraint. He could feel your tightness, the way you clenched around him, and it was driving him wild, making it hard to stay in control. 

You whimpered, your body still adjusting to the sensation. "You're just—ah!" Your voice broke into a loud gasp as he finally pushed all the way inside, filling you completely. The stretch was intense, overwhelming in the best way. "You're so big... why didn't you tell me you were so big?"

Spencer let out a tense chuckle, clearly amused by your reaction despite his own effort to keep himself in check. "I, uh... didn't think it was that big," he managed to get out, his breath shaky as he looked down at you, his forehead damp with sweat from the strain of holding himself back. 

“You’re a fucking liar,” you laughed breathlessly through your whimpers and whines, your body trembling with both pleasure and amusement.

His chuckle, though filled with affection, was also tight with restraint, and you could feel the tension in his body as he tried to keep from moving too quickly. "Just... breathe," he murmured, his voice gentler now as he leaned down to kiss your forehead, trying to calm both you and himself. "I'll give you as much time as you need. I don't want to hurt you."

You nodded, taking deep breaths as your body slowly adjusted to the feeling of him inside you. Spencer’s hands stayed gentle, stroking your sides and thighs as he gave you time to acclimate, though you could feel him trembling with the effort of holding back.

After a moment, you shifted your hips, testing the sensation, and the movement elicited a low groan from Spencer, his self-control wavering. "Okay..." you whispered, your voice soft but filled with need. "I’m ready."

Spencer’s breath hitched, his eyes darkening with desire as he slowly began to move. His pace was careful at first, each thrust deliberate as he let your body adjust to his size, but the tension between you built quickly, and soon, the rhythm grew more urgent, more desperate.

Each movement sent sparks of pleasure through you, the sensation of him filling you so completely making you dizzy with desire. You could feel the heat of his body against yours, the way he moved so perfectly in sync with you, as if you were made for each other.

Spencer groaned deeply, his forehead pressing against yours again as his movements grew more intense. "You feel so good," he murmured, his voice strained as he fought to hold himself back just a little longer, wanting to make this last as long as possible for both of you.

"Spencer!" you cried out, your nails digging into his back as your body trembled beneath him, the pleasure overwhelming you.

"Yeah, baby?" he panted, his voice rough and breathless as his hips slapped against yours in a steady, rhythmic motion. "Tell me what you need."

"You! More! Please!" Your voice was a desperate plea, every inch of your body burning with want.

"Fuck," he breathed, his control slipping as he sped up, his thrusts becoming more intense. His hand snaked between your bodies, fingers finding your clit as he began to rub you in time with his movements. The sensation made you cry out again, the combination of his fingers and his body sending you spiraling toward the edge.

“I’m—I’m gonna come,” you whined, your body trembling as you clenched tightly around Spencer, the sensation pushing you toward the brink.

“Y/N!” he gasped, his voice strained as he tried to hold on. “Calm down, baby, you’re going to push me out.”

But you were too far gone to hear him, lost in the overwhelming pleasure that was building inside you. Your whimpers grew louder, your body thrashing uncontrollably as Spencer’s fingers moved faster, working in perfect rhythm with your body's need.

Suddenly, it hit you all at once, the most intense release you’d ever experienced. You let out a violent scream, your entire body shaking as wave after wave of pleasure crashed over you, something deeper and more powerful than anything you'd ever felt before.

Your walls clenched so tightly that you did, in fact, push Spencer out, and you gushed all over him, your body overwhelmed by the force of your orgasm. Spencer let out a low groan at the sensation, his eyes wide with a mixture of awe and arousal as he watched you come undone in front of him, watched your release coat his stomach and thighs.

“Did you just... squirt?” Spencer asked, his voice full of pure awe as he looked down at you, his eyes wide with amazement.

You were a panting mess on the bed, completely spent from the intensity of what had just happened. “That, or I just peed on you,” you mumbled, half-joking but still trying to make sense of the overwhelming sensation you had just felt.

Spencer laughed, shaking his head as he dipped down to kiss you, his lips soft against yours. “You are so sexy, Y/N,” he whispered, his voice full of affection and admiration.

You kissed him back tiredly, your body too exhausted to do much more, but the desire to give him what he needed still lingered. "Want you to come too," you whined softly, your words almost pleading.

“Okay, okay,” Spencer soothed, his breath hitching as he positioned himself once more, slowly pushing back inside you. The sensation made your body jolt, and you cried out, your back arching from the overstimulation. It was too much and yet not enough, the oversensitivity sending sharp pulses of pleasure through you.

“Are you okay, darling?” Spencer asked, his voice breathless as he fought to hold himself back, concerned about your comfort.

You nodded quickly, though your body was trembling beneath him. “Nuh huh,” you whimpered, your voice shaky as you gripped him tightly, pulling him closer. “I’m okay, I want this. Please,” you urged, your body still sensitive but craving the closeness, needing to feel him chase his own release.

Spencer groaned at your words, his resolve crumbling as he began to move again, thrusting into you with an increasing pace. His body was tense, his breath ragged as he neared the edge, each movement sending both of you into a dizzying spiral of pleasure.

You clung to him as he chased his release, your breaths mingling, your bodies connected in a way that felt intimate and overwhelming all at once. And when Spencer finally let go, his body shuddering as he found his own climax, you held him close as he groaned and whispered your name. 

After Spencer had taken care of both of you, gently cleaning you up and even changing the sheets that had been soaked in your release, the two of you finally settled into bed, wrapped up in each other's arms. His body was warm against yours, his breath steady as he held you close. Everything felt so perfect, so right in that moment, like the world had shrunk to just the two of you in that cozy little space.

You nuzzled into Spencer's chest, feeling his heartbeat under your lips as you placed a soft kiss there. "I want things to be different," you mumbled, your voice quiet and filled with a softness that made his heart swell.

Spencer looked down at you, his hand stroking your hair gently. "Yeah?" he asked, the happiness in his voice evident. "Different how?"

You shifted slightly, still cuddled close, your lips brushing over his skin. "I want everyone to know," you murmured, your voice more certain this time.

Spencer chuckled softly, though he held you tighter, a smile spreading across his face. "Know what exactly?" he asked, teasing slightly, though he had a feeling he knew where this was going.

You tilted your head up, meeting his eyes with a sweet, serious look. "That you're my boyfriend," you said, your voice full of affection, but also with a sense of determination.

Spencer’s heart fluttered at your words, and he couldn’t help but break into a grin. He’d never thought he’d hear you say something so simple yet so powerful. "Boyfriend, huh?" he teased softly, though his own voice was thick with emotion. He pulled you closer, resting his forehead against yours. "I think I’d like that," he whispered.

You smiled, feeling the warmth of his words settle over you like a blanket. "Good," you replied, kissing him softly. "Because I want everyone to know how lucky I am."

Spencer let out a soft laugh, his thumb gently tracing the outline of your face. "I think I’m the lucky one, Y/N," he murmured, his voice filled with nothing but pure, overwhelming happiness. And in that moment, with the two of you wrapped up in each other, everything felt like it was exactly as it should be.

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[simpurnatural]

"Flustered" || Short-Fic

XO, Kitty - Min Ho Moon x Fem!Reader

Note from Nat: "Back to back Min Ho fics??? Didn't expect to get so much positive feedback. Thanks for going easy on ya girl, I'm still a bit rusty! Enjoy and make sure to wipe that drool off your face babe!"

Warning(s): Spoilers for "XO, Kitty" seasons 1 & 2, A little bit of Smut, Language, Sorta Proofread

As the fall semester came to an end, with everyone not wanting to part ways even for a just a month, Min Ho decides to invite the entire friend group for a winter getaway.

“Where’s Y/n?” Asked Dae which made everyone’s heads turn before the sound of snow crunching was heard.

You approached the group that was currently enjoying the hot tub, arms crossed to keep your robe shut. Min Ho suggested that the hot tub would be best way to relax after a day of travelling

“Hi! Sorry I’m late to the party,” you smiled whilst kicking off your slippers, then sliding your robe off your shoulders.

“Hot damn girl,” Q said, overcame with astonishment. "Drop the workout routine asap please," he joked as everyone's eyes lingered on your figure.

“Oh stop it,” you laughed and rolled your eyes. “This old thing isn’t worth the hype,” you insisted, but everyone would’ve begged to differ.

The navy blue two piece you were sporting hugged all the right places. Your ass and tits looked like they needed saving. The sight was definitely giving body tea.

Everyone watched as you made your descent into the tub and sat in between Kitty and Min Ho. Kitty had given you a small wave whereas Min Ho could barely make eye contact. Various conversations continued but Min Ho remained in an unlike-him-silence.

He wondered how he had not noticed how hot you looked until now. Not saying that looks are everything, but Min Ho felt stuck on how he never gave you a second glance.

"-Right Min Ho?" Dae asks, turning to his best friend who was clearly zoning out.

"Sorry what?" Min Ho replied, snapping out of his trance.

"We're gonna be able to go skiing first thing tomorrow, right?" Dae reiterated, a slight tiredness in his voice due to Min Ho's lack of contribution to the conversation.

"Of course," Min Ho nodded before his gaze back on you, who was too busy chatting with Yuri and Kitty to realizing anything else.

"Woah okay, this is new," Q teased, as his eyes followed Min Ho's. "The bikini has got your eyes lurkin'" he says, making Jin snicker at the observation.

"What are you guys talking about?" you ask with an unaware smile on your lips, Min Ho's eyes instantly looking down.

"Min Ho here seems to have-" Q began.

"Shut it," Min Ho tsked before moving to leave the hot tub.

"Hey, we were just joking," Jin called out as Min Ho shuffled back into the house.

"What was that about?" Yuri questioned, all conversations now put on pause.

"Is Min Ho okay?" Kitty asked, looking to the other boys occupying the hot tub.

"He's just a little flustered," Dae replied, the feeling of worry instantly overcame you.

"Did I do something?" you say wide-eyed but to no response. "I'll go check on him," you say before making your way out of the tub and walking towards the house. "Min Ho?" your voice echoed throughout the home.

You noticed a light coming from inside the kitchen and chose to investigate. There stood Min Ho, chugging a bottle of water with his slim yet toned physique being illuminated by the refrigerator light. He began to cough up said water after realizing your presence.

"Bloody hell, you scared me," he coughed, covering his face with the inside of his elbow. "What is it Y/n?" he asks while shutting the fridge door.

"What's with you?" you quizzed, "Ever since I joined you guys outside, you've been quiet and when I tried to converse with you-you run back inside!" you add with a hint of frustration in your voice.

"It's not my fault-"

"-So it's mine? What did I do wrong?" you cut off, urgently wanting an answer as to why your friend was avoiding you.

"Y/n, it's because y-you literally look like t-that!" Min Ho exclaimed as if it were common knowledge. "How else is a guy supposed to act when you decide walk around wearing something like that?" he questioned.

"Is what I have on not okay? Was there something in my hair?" you blabbered in response, instantly being overcame with the self-conscious feeling.

"It's fact that when I saw you earlier, I wish you didn't have anything on" Min Ho muttered in an almost whisper like volume.

The realization finally hit you, Min Ho had been eyeing you since you stepped into the hot tub. You face flushed a bright red, clearly flattered by the words that just came out of his mouth.

"So what you're saying is-"

"What I'm saying is that you look almost too good," Min Ho said, his voice deep and eyes darkened like a lion about to pounce on his next prey.

The small distance between the two of you shut in almost an instant, his hand cupped the side of your face gently. You could've sworn that the beat of your heart could be heard from miles away.

Your lack of response gave Min Ho time to lift you up and place you on the kitchen counter. Accidentally, you let out a small whimper at the feeling of the cold tile touching your skin. Min Ho felt as if he could've finished off that noise alone.

Standing between your legs, Min Ho's hands traveled all the way back down to your ass. You watched his eyes really take in your body, as if he could drink you up like a glass of water.

"Tell me to stop, and I will" Min Ho whispered as he gave your plump skin a squeeze.

Leaning in with your lips close to his ear, finally you replied, "I don't think I want you to stop".

Min Ho took this as his green light and you felt as his hands unclasped your bikini top. Grabbing the piece of clothing, he tossed away fand his eyes settled on your breast.

Biting his lip, Min Ho took one of each into his hands. "Beautiful. You are so beautiful Y/n," he said with is his accent thick, almost like he was about to melt at the sight of you.

You gasped at the feeling of his breath on your tits, causing a domino effect of butterflies and goosebumps to cover you. Min Ho chuckled at this, rubbing your nipples with his thumb in a circular motion.

Eyes closed; you threw your head back at the sensation before feeling something foreign come in contact with your breast. Min Ho's tongue began exploring your chest. It was as if he was trying to paint a picture.

His grasp on your tits became slightly more secure as he was egged on by your moans. He was marking his territory all over you with bright red hickeys.

Your half assed attempt to stifle your moans was with the palm of your hand. Min Ho however loved how loud you were getting for him and yanked your hand away from your face.

"I want to hear you," he insisted, pulling his lips away from your chest for a mere moment. "I want to hear you all night," he smirked, leaning in for a kiss.

"Uh guys?" a voiced that belonged to Yuri called out. "Is everything alright?" she asked, her voice trailing off into the hallway probably in search of you both.

Min Ho looked down with a smile on his face before getting your swim top from the ground. You quickly put it back on then pulled your hair to the front to cover the marks Min Ho left behind.

"W-we're here Yuri!" you replied hopping off the counter and walking out of the kitchen with Min Ho right behind you.

As Yuri came walking back towards you guys, her head tilted to the side in confusion, "What were you guys doing over there in the dark?"

"Just got some water," Min Ho replied, which seemingly convinced Yuri enough for her to walk back outside. "I'm not done with you yet," he whispered in your ear, giving your ass a slap.

JAN 2025

[frenchkisstheabyss]

♡ ʜᴏᴛ ɢɪʀʟ ᴘʟᴀʏʟɪꜱᴛ: ʙᴀɴɢ ᴄʜᴀɴ ♡

♡ Pairing: bartender!bang chan x chubby!fem!waitress!reader

♡ Genre: smut/fluff

♡ Summary: Chris has had a crush on you ever since his best friend hired you but he's never had the courage to do anything about it, too intimidated by you to say a word. Little does he know, you've had your eye on him too and tonight's the night you plan to give him a taste of what he's wanted so badly.

♡ Word Count: 4k-ish

♡ Warnings: flirting, kissing, dirty talk, a lil dom/brat dynamic, they're both low key needy, teasing, oral sex (m receiving), very sloppy oral sex at that, swallowing, deep throating, he low key has a big dick, we're playing with balls today, a lil rough nipple pinching, a lil fingering, booty slaps, chris really wants to eat you out, he also very much likes his girls thick, pet names (baby, baby girl, daddy).

♡ A/N: Hello my darlings! So this is my first entry in a series of fics I'm doing based on lyrics from songs that are basically my ho anthems. This is the ✨ masterlist ✨ and I'll be uploading fics over the next two weeks. Every fic is chubby reader centered and, much like an actual DJ, if you have a request feel free to slide into my asks. I'll happily take it 💖

“Better grab a mop, it’s getting sticky in this bitch” - Tyler the Creator

Christopher Bahng has one little problem and it has your name written all over it. 

Six years of bartending have taught Chris how to keep his cool against any number of things. Random fights breaking out between dudes who’ve had a few shots more than they should’ve. Belligerent drunks who lash out if he dares to cut them off. Divorced dads crying on his shoulder about their ex wives half an hour past closing time. After so long it got to the point where he didn’t think anything that walked through that door could throw him off his game. And then there was you. 

When Changbin said he’d hired a new waitress Chris wasn’t sure what to expect. All he wished for was someone nice and competent. Anything else would be the cherry on top and you came sprinkled with cherries. Not only were you an absolute sweetheart who picked up on things quickly, you were drop dead gorgeous. As a rule Chris doesn’t date coworkers. It’s messy and risky. Someone always ends up getting hurt. But working side by side with you every day left him wondering if the risk might just be worth the reward. 

You show up to every shift with your teeny skirts and your glossy lips, bouncing around the bar like temptation incarnate, seemingly unaware of the effect you have on him. He can’t keep his head on straight when you’re around. He makes silly mistakes and trips over his words. Everyone always compliments Chris on how charismatic he is but all of that seems to fly out of the window when you’re around. 

Tonight’s shift is no different. You’re skipping around the bar in your little pink mini skirt. The kind that twirls when you walk and rises when you bend over, giving him the faintest preview of your lower ass cheeks. The crop top you’re wearing is no better. It’s one of those tops with a plunging neckline that knots in the front, making your tits look especially kissable. The lushness of your figure means that everything else bounces when you do. You’re so thick. So juicy. So…

“Pardon me, boys” you sing, easing behind the bar to hunt for a clean glass. 

Minho, Chris’s fellow bartender, spins out of your way, two open beers held high in the air. “No, knock me over. It’s fine” he teases and you just roll your eyes. Minho always has something to say. You’re used to it by now.

At the other end of the bar Chris is busy mixing up a drink. Rum and coke. Quick. Predictable. Boring. Spotting a stack of clean glasses nearby, you squeeze in beside him, careful not to get in his way. 

“Ready for this night to be over or what?” you quip, an arm extended towards a glass that’s just out of your reach. 

Chris grabs it for you, his hands on the verge of trembling from how close you are. You’ve got your tits pressed up against his arm. Not swallowing it whole but brushing it just enough that he can’t ignore what’s there. 

A bit of nervous laughter escapes him as he flashes you that handsomely dimpled smile. “Yeah, I can’t wait to get out of here. You got any plans for later?” 

You shrug, nails tapping at the glass now secured in your hand, “Mmm, I don’t know. Why? You asking me out or something?” 

There’s a long pause. A tense, breathless silence that seems to last forever. Beneath that fluffy brown hair his ears are turning red and the blush is beginning to spread to his cheeks. 

“I’m fucking with you” you giggle, patting him on the shoulder, “You’re so easy to get. It’s too fun. Thanks for the glass by the way.” 

With a flirty wink you’re off, leaving as quickly as you came. Taking his first real breath since you stepped foot behind the bar, Chris watches you weave through the tables and nothing can tell him that you aren’t moving in slow motion. You’re like one of those girls in the movies—the type you dream about—and you’re looking right at him. You’re looking right at him. His grip tightens around the cool glass of rum and coke that's already begun to sweat against his palm . You’re talking to a customer but your gaze is entangled with his, drawing him deeper into your orbit than he’s ever been. 

You’ve never caught him looking before. He dreaded the day when you did but prayed it’d never come. Now that it has, he doesn’t know what to do with himself. The heat creeping up the back of his neck is unbearable and his heart’s prepared to bungee jump from his chest. Even worse, he's feeling something. Something he shouldn’t feel when he’s at work. A rush of blood. The tightening of skin. Fabric stretching to accommodate him. 

“Can I have my drink or is that yours now, sweetie?” the woman waiting at the bar asks. 

Shaking himself out of a daze, Chris panics, handing her the drink. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.” 

“What’s with you?” Minho mouths but getting an answer isn’t in the cards. 

Chris speeds by, his back turned to conceal what’s developing below his waist. “I need something from the back! Take over for me!” 

Bolting through a side door, he navigates the small back area cramped with boxes to find solace in the storage closet. He slams the door behind him as soon as he’s in, pacing the floor to calm himself down.

“Get it together, Chris. You’re not in high school. She’s just a girl” he tells himself like a coach giving a pep talk. Pausing in his tracks, he puts his hands on his hips, his brain filing through all the things he could do to help. “Think about bunnies or sports or old people or bunnies playing sports with old people.” Squinting his eyes closed he thinks of just that. The cutest baby bunnies hopping around a baseball field doing their best to win against their only opposition…the elderly. He gives it a minute, letting the thought truly soak in, before he opens his eyes again and looks down. 

“Fuck…” he hisses at the sight of a hard on that’s only gotten worse. If only he hadn’t looked at you. If only you hadn’t looked at him. Who told you to have such pretty eyes? And the nerve of you to devour him with them. 

“Chris, you back here?” you scream, running into the closet to find exactly who you’re looking for, “Oh hey, there you are, a customer had a question about a drink and…why are you looking at me like that?”

“Like what? I’m not looking at you like anything. I don’t know what you mean” he stutters, taking a few steps back to create distance between the two of you.

You take those same steps forward, closing the distance and ruining his plans. “No, you are looking at me like that.” You fold your arms across your chest, eyeing him skeptically, “What are you doing in here, Christopher?”

“What am I doing in here? I was just, uh…” he scans the shelves, a lie at the tip of his tongue, “We were out of strawberry syrup and I came to grab it. I just can’t seem to find it anywhere.”

“You came to find the strawberry syrup?” you ask, effortlessly spotting it on the shelf. You hop up to grab it, dangling the bottle in front of him, “Does your dick always get hard for strawberry syrup? Is that a kink of yours or…”

Chris whips around, his back to you, hands swooping in to cover the offending area. “Oh my god, I wasn’t—you weren’t supposed to—shit.”

Sneaking up behind him, you peek around his shoulder, that mischievous giggle of yours brewing again. “See, told ya you were easy to get” you whisper, “That wouldn’t happen to be my fault would it?”

Your eyes flick down to where his hands are and the fact that they’re hardly enough to hide his bulge is exciting to say the least. How oblivious could he possibly think you are? In the beginning you weren’t quite sure if he was checking you out or not. He can have a mean case of resting bitch face when he wants to. During those first few weeks there was no way to differentiate if the stares you were getting from Chris had longing or hatred behind them but it quickly became apparent that it was the first. 

Girls walk into this bar and they swoon over him but you’re the one who turns him to putty simply by existing. That is power and you wield it recklessly, flirting with him every chance you get. So this little situation—him being so hard for you that he has to scurry away to a storage closet—is far from the offense he thinks it is. In fact, it’s an achievement. 

“You know, I like you…” you sigh, trailing your fingers up his arm to feel the firmness of his bicep through his fitted black shirt, “You’re sweet and you’re funny and you’re cute. Too cute to suffer. I can help you out if you want.”

Chris looks back at you, eyebrows knitted together in confusion, “Help me? What do you mean ‘help me’?” 

You glance down again and back up at him, “With that. I can make it disappear if you want me to.” 

Gently massaging his arm, you smooth your hand across his shoulder, down his chest. You haven’t seen this man shirtless but if what you feel is any indication of what it looks like you know his body must be immaculate. His breath hitches as your fingertips dance along his abs, venturing below his belt right to where his own hands hover.

You’re so close—centimeters away from where he throbs with need for you—but just as you’re about to touch it he dips out of the way, slipping from your grasp. Chris turns to you, his expression hardening. At the drop of a hat the boyish confusion you found so amusing has given way to something stronger. More severe. 

“I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable” you apologize, suddenly unable to meet his gaze.

He advances on you and now you’re the one backing away. You’ve seen this before in nature documentaries. A poor little gazelle and a ravenous lion. The gazelle gets chewed up every single time. If you were to take a wild guess which one you are, you’d say you were fucked. 

“Chris, I’m serious, I was just—” Your back hits the door, knocking the air out of you, and you let out a faint shriek that makes his lips quirk into something reminiscent of a smile. 

His pointer finger traces the curve of your cheek, his feather light touch tickling your skin. “You were just ‘fucking with me’. That’s how you put it, yeah?”

If there were any air left in you then surely you’d lose your breath. “It sounds so childish when you say it like that.”

“Because it is childish. You shouldn’t say things you can’t back up” he says like it’s a dare of sorts. It is. 

As his lips drift closer to yours you can feel the heat radiating from his body. There’s no denying that some of it’s your own and what’s shared between you is enough to melt the sun.

“Who says I can’t back it up? I’m a woman of her word. If I say something then I always intend to back it up.”

Chris tucks a finger under your chin, tilting your head so that your lips graze his. “Prove it.” 

As if it has a mind of its own, your hand finds his chest again, tugging at the fabric of his shirt to bring him closer, and he doesn’t resist. He leans into you, his plush lips meeting yours as his tongue dips between them, eager to explore the furthest reaches of your mouth. The kiss is everything a girl could want, more delicious than any drink he could serve you up at the bar. It’s a good thing he’s never kissed any of those girls who fall all over him. They’d be helpless, at his mercy, utterly hypnotized by a kiss sweeter than any other you’ve had. 

Gripping his shirt tighter, you put every bit of strength you’ve got into spinning him around. The swap is effortless and he’s right where you were, his body blocking the only way in or out of this closet.

“Open this for me please” you pout, raising the bottle of strawberry syrup still dangling from your fingers.

Chris takes the bottle, vexed by your sudden need to access its contents, but he grabs the cap anyway, unscrewing the lid as you drop to your knees and get to work unfastening his belt. You’re quick with your fingers, undoing his pants with all the finesse of an expert thief cracking a safe. Your hand’s cool as it comes in contact with his length, stroking him from tip to base the second he springs free. He gasps at the chill, his stomach muscles tensing at the sudden hit of dopamine rushing through his body. 

Leaning your head back, you smile up at him, opening your mouth wide, “Pour it.”

“Pour it?”

You stroke his length again and it pulses against your touch, shiny beads of arousal dripping down the head. It takes all of his muscle control for his lets not to give out. 

“Pour. It.” you repeat, placing emphasis on each word.

Still reeling from that last stroke, he does as he’s told, letting a shot’s worth of it trickle down into your mouth. He pours in just the amount that you need. Such an intuitive bartender even now. Careful not to spill a drop, you guide his cock into your mouth, glazing him in the sweet syrupy liquid.

The warmth of your mouth meddled with the thickness of the syrup is what he never knew he wanted but will desperately need every day after this. It’s tight and gushy, hugging him how he imagines your walls might, and when you take him all in—your pretty lips wrapped around the base in the perfect shape—he loses any hope he ever had of holding his composure. 

Blinking down at you, he brushes your hair back out of your face, showering you with admiration. “Took it all in the first go. Didn’t know you wanted it that badly” he taunts, hips rocking to push the tip to the back of your throat. 

You don’t gag, you don’t even flinch, you just take it, your irises dancing like stars as your tongue swoops back and forth beneath his cock. The taste of him makes you drool, your own arousal gathering in your panties the same way his slicks the back of your tongue. You move slowly at first, bobbing your head back and forth at a delicate pace, enjoying every detail of his cock.

It’s nice and thick, the perfect size for your mouth, with veins that travel up to the head in such a picturesque formation that you might think it was deliberately designed to be so exquisite. Chris has the nicest mushroom tip, plump enough to make a crisp pop when it temporarily vacates your mouth, your tongue swirling around it to tease the rim. 

“I wish you could see how fucking gorgeous you look right now” he coos when you roll your tongue across the slit, lapping up his precum. You’re such a mess, your hands and lips all sticky with syrup, but he wouldn’t have you any other way. 

You smile as much as you can with your cheeks filled to the brim, slipping him back into your mouth until, like magic, it disappears. There’s an urge in him to throw his head back against the door, close his eyes and let the pleasure consume him, but he can’t bring himself to do it. He has to watch you. He needs to. You look so good slobbering around his cock, sucking him like a lollipop that comes in your favorite flavor. The way you’re squeezing your thighs together gives away how much this is getting you off too and it only worsens his need for you. 

Pulling back enough to wrap a hand around his length, you spare him one final glance before you let your eyes fall shut, picking up speed that gives him whiplash. The sounds from  your hollowed out cheeks suctioning his cock are downright sinful. You’ve got him biting his lip and bucking his hips, moans pouring out of him as you reach up to cup his balls, rolling your palm against them.

They’re so sensitive that the slightest amount of pressure makes his cock twitch harder between your cheeks but you don’t miss a beat, your wrist and jaw working in flawless unison to keep your pace. You’re too in your zone to notice but your tits are sprinkled in a shiny mixture of everything currently swirling around in your mouth. It found its way down your chin, adorning your neck, and over the hills of the lucious tits that await below. 

Chris can’t resist reaching down to grab one, his hand delving into your bra to knead the tender flesh. You hum around him as he finds your nipple, pinching the pebbled bud between his fingers. “Fuck, you like that baby?” he growls out, testing your limits by pinching just a little harder. 

You let out a whine, your thighs coming together again to ease the throbbing of your clit. Do you like that? You fucking love it. You want more. You want his lips around your bud and his cock deep inside of you, deeper than it is in your throat. You want everything he has to give you but you’re a woman of your word and you’re determined to keep it. Dragging his hand out of your shirt, you interlace your fingers with his, tossing him a defiant look that tells him to behave. 

With your hands now occupied, the full weight of his cock rests on your jaw. You deserve an award for keeping it in, performing tricks with your tongue he never knew a girl could. Every move you make, every wispy flick of your tongue, has his sanity unraveling thread by thread. 

“Fuck…I don’t know how much more I can take” he whimpers, a sound that only encourages your behavior. “So fucking good, baby girl…mmph…”

He squeezes your hands, attempting to push you back a few inches, silently begging you to slow down. Not yet. Just a little more. But you’re deep throating him like your life depends on it, refusing to take pity on him. His body tenses, an involuntary jerk of his hips almost tripping you up.

“Mmhmm” you moan, your nose pressed to his base, throat muscles flexing.

You steal a look at him, his jaw slack, eyes heavily lidded, a thin sheen of sweat coating his skin. If you didn’t know any better you’d think he was drunk and that’s exactly what it feels like. A nice buzz. A double shot of europhoria. 

A splash of something warm trickles down your throat and you gradually slip him out of your mouth, letting him cum on every inch of you until you’re balancing him on the tip of your tongue. You patiently wait for the last drop, slurping him clean. When you lean back, freeing your hands from his, he nearly doubles over. 

“Whoa, don’t die on me” you giggle, flexing your cramped fingers. 

Rising to your feet you capture him in a kiss, softly stroking his cock as he comes down from his high. His shallow breaths fall on your puffy lips, that pining boyish expression back at home on his face. 

“What was that?” he pants, nibbling at your bottom lip. 

“It’s what you wanted, right? Ever since you first saw me.”

Chris kisses you weakly, an effective diversion from the question. Looping an arm around your waist, he holds you close. Your tongue still tastes like candy and he intends to kiss you until the flavor fades. Slipping a hand down to grab your ass, he squeezes it roughly, making you arch in response. With your ass poked out he easily gets to what he wanted more. Tucking your panties to the side, he swishes two fingers around in the juices soaking your entrance. 

“Aah, Chris…” you gasp as his fingers push into you. 

If the sound of you sucking his cock was sinful, the squelching of your pussy accepting his fingers is sin itself. Dragging his lips down to your neck, he kisses it softly, working his fingers in and out of you. Holding tight to his shirt, you quiver from the pleasure, walls fluttering as the pads of his fingers trace the ridges of your walls. 

“I wanna taste you so fucking bad” he confesses, “That’s what I’ve wanted ever since I first saw you. You gonna let me taste you, baby?”

You want to say, “Yes”. No, you want to say, “Fuck yes”. Only you can’t find the words. Not when he’s playing your pussy like a finely tuned instrument. He can do anything he wants to you if all of it feels this good. 

Kissing his way back up to your lips, he stares into your eyes, his gaze oozing lust. There’s no question about it this time around. “Is that a yes or a no, baby?” His fingers curl into your faster, his knuckles flush against your entrance, juices running down your thighs. 

“Yes” you force out, riding his fingers. 

“Yeah? I don’t think I heard you” he teases, giving you a little peck on the lips, “You can be louder for me, yeah?” 

Click. Click. Click. The door knob turns and it only occurs to you now that neither of you locked the door. Worse than that, you’re still at work. 

“Chris, you in there?” Minho calls out, banging at the door, “If I have to work you do too!”

Minho tries to push the door open but it doesn’t budge. The collective force of your bodies is enough to keep it shut though you aren’t sure for how long. 

“Uh, I’ll be out in a second!” Chris shouts back, grabbing the knob to keep it from turning again. 

Fixing his pants as quickly as you got them open, you straighten his clothes out, and dip behind the door. Chris pulls you back over, stealing another kiss before letting you go. He moves away from the door and it goes flying open. Wedging yourself into the corner behind the door, you can’t see a thing. You can only hear the exchange. 

“What the hell were you doing?”

“I was looking…looking for the strawberry syrup.”

“All this time? Did you hit your head or something? I’ll find it.”

Noticing the bottle of syrup by your feet, you kick it over and by the sounds of it Chris grabs it. 

“Oh, there it is. See? Got it! Now go. I’m coming! Seriously. Go.”

You listen as Minho hesitantly steps away, the door swinging in the opposite direction for Chan to kiss you full force. He hugs you tightly enough to almost lift you from the ground and you kick your feet cutely out of surprise. 

“You’re coming home with me tonight” he demands, licking what small sample he got of you from his fingers, “You leave this bar without me and I’ll fight you.”

“Ooh, you wanna fight me, daddy? I am known to like it rough.” 

How can one girl be so hot? He can’t wrap his head around it but he knows he has to get away from you before he can’t hold back anymore. “Get back to work” he says, slapping you on the ass and you get on your way, flashing him your ass on the way out the door. 

Watching you leave, he can only think of one thing. That one little problem—the one with your name written all over it—has just gotten much, much bigger.

[l4wsrule]

⋆˚࿔ new tattoo .

♯┆ trafalgar law x fem!reader : fixing up his tattoo ⸝⸝ 💉

a/n: i found this in someone else's requests, it was free to use and i couldn't not write about it 🙏🏻

t͟a͟g͟s͟ : sfw, trafalgar law, tattoo artist user, oneshot, friends to lovers(?), romantic tension .

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

Trafalgar law had never been one for chit chat. As a growing notorious pirate, you would think he'd be cold, guarded, always wary of his surroundings. Which he is, but one other thing about him, is that he takes his tattoos very seriously. Each holding a different emotional meaning. And you happened to be the one he'd chosen and relied one for his body art, you were very skilled, there was no denying that.

And each time he came for a tattoo, he'd end up confiding to you more and more, opening up to you about his past, his current life, ambitions, goals, so on. It took a few visits, but you two eventually broke the ice and became acquainted to eachother. He wasn't as unfriendly as the public made him out to be.

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

It's been a while since he last came in your shop now, and you found yourself unconsciously waiting for him. Each time the bell on the door rang, indicating someone came in, your ears would perk up, hoping it would be him, walking through that door. And unfortunately for you, it wasn't, every single time.

One evening, just as you were about to close, you heard the bell on the door ringing once again, signaling an entrance. You were at the back of the studio, doing whatever, cleaning up and so on, potentially preparing to leave.

" We're closing ! " You spoke out to whoever came in, far from the entrance, unaware it was the man you've been awaiting for so long.

" Shame, I was looking forward to the visit. "

Your heart fluttered, you knew this voice, far too well. Deep and husky.

You tossed everything aside, hurrying to the entrance, your face lighting up at the sight of him leaning against the doorframe, arms crossed, with that same, small knowing smirk of his, cracking at the corners of his lips as he saw you.

"Law, you came!" You cheered, a smile plastered on your face. "How long has it been since I last saw you? gee."

"Sure did. Been a while, you missed me or something?" Pushing himself off the door-way, he chuckled, his tone cold and sarcastic, the way it's always been.

"Oh, quit it." You scoffed, feigning annoyance, hands resting on your hips as you led him to the chair, ignoring his remark, you did miss him, but you wouldn't actually tell him. "So, what are we getting today?"

"Nothing much, just a few touch ups here." He settled down on the chair, unbuttoning his shirt and easing it off his shoulders ever so casually, and gesturing to the areas he wanted fixed in the heart tattoo on his chest. You couldn't help but stare at his chiseled form for a while longer than necessary.

"Coming right up, captain." You threw the nickname at him jokingly, whilst preparing all the equipment and placing it on a table beside him. Sitting next to him, you began sterilizing and disinfecting the needle and tattoo gun.

"I told you to stop calling me that." He chuckled, arms crossed over his chest as he watched your every move with interest.

"It's just fun, the idea of you being my captain, isn't it?"

"Just law is fine." He insisted, preparing himself as you poured the ink into a disposable cap and sheathing your hands in gloves.

You brought your chair closer to him, reaching back and adjusting his so that it leaned back slightly, giving you more access to his chest.

You installed the needle into the tattoo gun, dipping it in the ink and eventually starting, one hand resting on the side of his chest, while another worked on touching up and defining his slightly faded tattoo.

He never flinced, never even complained once about the pain, which is normal, since it wasn't his first time. The silence was deafening for a moment, until you spoke up.

"So, Law. Heard you've got a higher bounty now."

"Tch, Tell me about it, just means more marines at your back, more attention." He complained, seemingly annoyed by the idea of it, though his voice remained calm and collected.

"I thought you'd be happy about it, just means your strength is more acknowledged."

"I don't need to prove myself to anyone, let alone the government." Law added, firmly.

And there was more silence, as you focused on the tattoo, but the position was quite awkward and difficult to work in. You pulled away, scooting to the edge of his chair instead.

"You mind if I get closer ?"

"Just do whatever to get it over with." Trafalgar looked up at you from his seat, he didn't mind you getting closer, but there was something he didn't see coming.

You climbed on the chair fully, straddling him and leaning down onto his chest, which was more accesible now, and easier to work with. You had to admit, this particular position ignited something in you, but you kept it professional.

Law, however, was completely rattled and thrown off by your move.

" Hey- I didn't say you could- " He muttered out a half-hearted protest, shamming embarassment, albeit, he liked it more than he let on. A warm feeling stirring inside him.

You looked up from his chest to face him, pausing his opposition.

"Hm? Is this uncomfortable?" You asked, innocently, as if you didn't throw him utterly off guard.

"N- No.. I guess." Law stuttered out under his breath, his gaze averting away from you, looking around the room to distract himself from any unnecessary thoughts. He knew his control would slip if he continued looking right at you.

And that most definitely didn't go unnoticed by you, you put your tattoo gun aside, leaning back.

"Hey, it's okay- I'll find a way to -"

Before you could finish, you felt a grip on your wrist, pulling you back. Fast.

"No- Stay." Trafalgar spoke in a hurry, his hand still on your wrist as if you'd disappear if he let go. But he quickly regretted it, eventually letting you slip away and looking away, a faint, rare blush creeping up on the sides of his cheeks.

"I mean. Do whatever." He quickly retracted himself, trying to fix his mistake and act unbothered.

You were familiar enough with Law to know that he was bothered, and he would never actually directly let you know what he really wanted. So you obliged, getting back between his legs.

"I'm almost done, just sit through it a bit longer, hm?" You gave him a reassuring smile, leaning back down and bringing your focus back on enhancing his tattoo, while he gave you a half-assed nod, trying deseperately to hide the urge gnawing at him to just hold you right there forever, and kiss you senseless. Something he'd wanted for a while.

You felt the same, but you didn't let your feelings creep onto your mind as you were working. You couldn't possibly disappoint him.

You sat there for a while longer, heart pounding in your chest as you worked, the only sound you could hear in the room along with the soft breaths coming out both of you, an usual interaction. You were both usually talkative when he came for a tattoo, but considering the situation, you didn't try forcing a conversation.

And so, you were eventually done, putting the gun aside and looking down at his now enhanced dark tattoo.

"There! Good as new."

"Thanks, you always get it just right." He gave you an approving nod as he admired the renovated art on his chest. Before speaking up again, his voice cold and deliberate. "About your payment."

"Hm? What payment, silly, you know I never charge y-"

Before you could finish your sentence, you felt his calloused hand on the back of your neck, another resting on your side as he pulled you down onto him, your chest against his as your lips pressed together in an unexpected kiss. One that felt almost hesitant at first.

You had no time to react, your hands resting on his chest, until you felt him pulling away, studying your face for any sign of discomfort or reluctance, but finding none. Only a surprised expression plastered on you. Eyes wide and lips slightly parted as you looked at him.

"Y/N, I've been holding back for too long."

Law spoke firmly, his fingers tangling in your hair as he pulled you for another kiss. This time, you didn't hesitate, kissing him back just as passionately, your head tilted at just the right angle. Your hands running up and down his chest. He let out a low, satisfied hum against your lips.

You smiled against his, before pulling away and catching your breath, he managed to elicite small pants from you in just one kiss. His sharp eyes piercing right through yours, a satisfied smirk curling up on the corners of his lips.

"I love you, Y/N." Trafalgar confessed, his fingers running through your hair smoothly.

"I guess you're always free of charge now." You chuckled, leaning down to press another soft, quick kiss to his lips.

"Will you be serious for once?" He rolled his eyes, feigning irritation, but deep inside, he enjoyed how carefree and playful you always were. You completed eachother, in a way.

"I love you too, captain."

[theegyal]

HUSH, [ Annie x Smoke ]

Words : 3K

CHAPTER 5 : The Married Woman

8:33 AM

The old man hunched behind his desk, staring nervously at the figure standing in his front office.

"You're not Mr. Smoke. What—who are you?"

"His cousin," Stack growled, irritated. "Bitch, I come all the way here, talkin' 'bout wrong twin, but you keep askin' dumbass questions. can't read no damn room, motherfucker?"

Stack glared and pulled his gun from his pocket.

"You sit tight, hands on the table, and don't make a damn sound."

Roberts obeyed. He sank carefully into the chair, holding his breath. He knew it—knew helping that Manson man was a mistake. If only he hadn't been so greedy, he might've avoided ending up in this mess.

"Well, well," Stack drawled. "A little bird told me you did somethin' real bad, doc."

He moved toward the table with a predator's ease, slapping the back of his gun against the clean, pale wall.

"Please, wait—I got money! I didn't mean to—"

Stack smacked his own temple, agitated. It was a habit, something he did every time the tension started to mount.

"Fuck.I don't even know you. Why Doctor Clayman ain't the one runnin' shit?" Stack sucked his teeth. "Anyway, we grown men. And you know what grown men do—talk. We cool?"

He dropped into the chair across from Roberts.

8: 45 AM

"Oh no, Lois..."

The baby blurped onto Annie's shirt.

Unaware of the mess she'd made, Lois smiled wide, giggling like nothing in the world could touch her.

"Oh ma'am!" Annie gasped, flustered but not angry. She adored her daughter—even when she was fully stained with vomit.

"I know it's your birthday, Lulu. No need to remind me," she said, laughing as she pinched the baby's chubby cheeks.

They had planned a party. First birthday. Something simple—cake, balloons, music from the radio, a little folding table out back.

And now?

There would be no party.

Life had other plans.

She was still wiping her blouse when the first ring came.

She didn't hear it.

The second one snapped her out of her thoughts.

"Shit."

She stood up quickly, peeling off the dirtied shirt and scuffing it beneath the sofa. She pulled on a clean blouse and hurried barefoot to the door.

"Morning, Madam Moore."

It was supposed to be a calm day. Pancakes. Laundry. Maybe a phone call from Stack about Elijah.

But most of all—mother and daughter moments.

And now these two men stood on her porch—stiff-backed, in dark uniforms that didn't belong to any mail service she knew.

Bad news never needed an appointment.

She opened the door halfway.

"Who are you?"

The taller one adjusted his cuffs. No smile. No warmth.

"We're here on behalf of ****Mortgage. This is a notice of default and scheduled foreclosure. You'll need to vacate the property by the end of the month."

Annie frowned, voice low and flat.

"What're you talkin' about? We've been paying that loan."

"Mr. Elijah Moore was the primary borrower. Since his passing, the loan has fallen into risk status. The bank has opted to initiate repossession. It's standard protocol when the surviving party cannot demonstrate sufficient income for continuation."

Annie blinked.

"He died for this country. And y'all came to take his house?"

The man didn't blink.

"We're just delivering notice, ma'am."

Her fingers tightened on the doorframe.

They had borrowed the loan right before Elijah left. He said it was time for them to do better.

And now he was somewhere else.

Somewhere with a white woman, building a new life.

While she and their daughter were about to be put out on the street.

On God, that man needed a hammer to the head just to recognize her face again.

Why the hell did they say she wasn't making enough?

She was a pharmacist.

Not a doctor, sure—but still. She ran one of the most trusted pharmacies in the neighborhood.

And still, it wasn't enough?

Chicago, huh.

She was a risk.

A widow.

A Black single mother.

That's all they saw.

"Got it." Her voice was flat.

"We're sorry."

"Get off."

She closed the door without looking back.

9:00 AM

Stack leaned back in the chair, eyeing Roberts like he was weighing which bone to break first.

"Now," he said dangerously calm "tell me exactly what type of shit you gave my brother."

Roberts shifted in his seat, sweating through his collar. "I—I'm not sure exactly what you're referring to—"

CRACK.

The butt of Stack's gun slammed hard across the man's jaw. Not enough to break it—but just enough to remind him death was a choice.

"Oh no. We grown, r'member ? Try again." Stack's voice never rose. His eyes narrowed. "You got one more time to play dumb."

Blood gathered in the doctor's mouth as he leaned forward, eyes wide and panicked.

"It was a sedative protocol—high-dose benzos, mood stabilizers, mild antipsychotics. Prescribed for PTSD and aggression management."

Stack snorted. "Oh ? You don't wanna be grown ? Taking me for a bitch perhaps? That shit ain't for no damn PTSD."

The doctor's eyes darted toward the hallway, but Stack shook his head.

"Ain't no one comin' to save you. So now tell me—where the hell's Doctor Clayman? Why he ain't the one pushin' them pills? He was the one taking care of Elijah at first !"

Roberts hesitated.

"Betta' talk." Stack clicked the sound of his gun.

"They forced Clayman off the case," Roberts mumbled. "When Mr. Elijah Moore was transferred to Denver... it wasn't just for rehabilitation. They—they were doing something else. Behavioral reprogramming. Chemical memory suppression. It was covert. I wasn't even supposed to know, but..."

He swallowed.

"But what?"

"But Colonel Manson, he made it clear the goal was to isolate Mr Moore. Cut off all personal ties. No contact with his past life. That's why they never told you he was being moved. Not until he was already there."

Stack's jaw tightened. The gun clicked as he reset the hammer.

"Where's Clayman now?"

Roberts hesitated again. Then dropped his eyes.

"He asked too many questions. Went missing a week later. Files cleared. Official word says 'transfer' but—"

"They killed him," Stack finished coldly.

Roberts didn't answer.

Stack leaned forward. His tone dropped to something quiet, sharp, and deadly.

"You know why Manson want my brother in particular?" It was sure not because they desert. Surely not because the man hated Stack.

Roberts shook his head quickly.

"No. I swear. I was just following orders. I didn't ask—I didn't want to ask."

Stack stared for a long moment, then lowered the gun to the table.

"You ever give my brother another dose of that brain rot shit, I will peel your life apart piece by piece. Wife, kids, your whole damn gene pool. You hear me?"

"Yes—yes sir—"

"no more sedatives. No more fog. You give the man somethin' good for memory recall. I want him to start rememberin' shit."

Roberts nodded fast, nearly weeping.

"I will, definitely. Cognitive enhancers. It's not guaranteed but—it's a start."

"Good. You see ? We both grown. And tell me what grown men do ?" Stack toyed him

"Talk" the old doctor replied, trembling.

"Next time I see you, doc... you better pray my brother's smilin'."

Elias stepped out of the hospital, shoulders rolled loose, mind locked tight. He'd said what he needed to say. Left Roberts shaking like a goddamn leaf in a lab coat.

Manson better have heard the warning loud and clear. But knowing that bastard, he'd probably laugh it off. Stack hoped he did.

He wanted a reason.

The parking lot was quiet. Cloudy. That sticky kind of heat building under the sky, waiting to break open.

Stack climbed into his car, metal hot under his hand, ready to pay a visit to some old friends. The ones you wished to never cross path at night.

He twisted the keys in the ignition then...

BRR-BRRT.

His phone buzzed against the dash.

"Huh?"

He picked up. A voice, rough and quiet, came through the line.

"Stack."

Stack blinked and sat up straighter.

"Smoke?"

"Been crouchin' in my car for two damn days. Trust me nigga, ain't goin' back to that white bitch house."

Stack narrowed his eyes, engine still off.

"Where the hell you at?"

"Close to your side. Like... three blocks down."

Elijah's voice dropped lower.

Still calm, but something in it sounded like he was holding breath through his teeth.

"She tried somethin'. Last night."

8 : 40 PM

"NO. You are not going to stay here crying all the night Annie."

"Hush Carol. Lois sleeping."

The said Carol didn't flinch, her high heels clapping on the floor.

"They gave you until the end of the month and you're already packing ?"

"I ain't going to let them have the last word. They want that house ? Fine. I'm leaving with Lois. Too tired to share home with ghost anyway" Annie retorted, her words bitter

The other brown skin woman, hold her curly long hair in a bun, removed her cabaret heels and started grabbing boxes here and here

"What the—?" Lois' mother reacted

" I'm helping you. We done and go to the club."

"Carol—"

"Shut your pretty ass off. I came all from Clarksdale, just to see you crying over a damn bastard who can't recognize the coochie that opened for him when he was broke. Now he full, veteran or watever they claimed, and SIR paraded with a white woman at his arm. God forbid"

Annie sighed. It was useless to reason her. Carol was like that. She received informations, mixed them at her own sauce and conclude.

"You came with him, left us. You bore his damn child Annie ! How could somebody forget his own blood ? No damn incident can justify a man forgetting about his family."

"He has issue Carol, Elijah is—"

"Stop giving him excuses. If he wants you he will get back on his damn feet and claim you back. We done the boxes, put some fine dress on this ass and we go"

"Lois—"

" Leshawna coming to watch her"

Annie rolled her eyes, her childhood friend prepared everything. Somehow seeing Carol, all agitated in her house making Annie remember the times they spent in Delta.

Carol had always been like this. She disliked the twins back then, so no wonder she was badmouthing right now.

"Who face eviction and first thing is clubbing..." Annie cursed under her breath, pouting

"Your goddamn ass baby. You will. See this ?" Carol bent over showing off her booty "you gonna shake that shit all night"

The women laughs echoed through every walls of the house.

8:55 PM

No wonder he always put distance with white chicks. Stack knew some acquaintances who got behind bars because they crossed limit with those. However, Elijah was not a random guy he came to know by chance.

What his brother confessed earlier the day still stuck in his throat, impossible to swallow.

"You ain't told me why yo shit got hard tho" Stack asked, pulling out smoke from his cigarette.

Elijah didn't answer right away. Not that he was ashamed to admit he was fucking a woman other than Olivia in his dream. But what was troubling was the resemblance the mysterious woman shared with the pharmacist he encountered earlier the same day.

"I went downtown buying pain relievers from a pharmacy, Hayes Pharmacy it named..."

"So the pain relievers was in fact a viagra ? You sure we twin ? Cause I ain't got no problem with my soldier down there" Stack laughed, teasing him.

"Shut it. I ain't bought no drug. Just the woman pharmacist, she was damn strange. She looked at me with those eyes..."

Stack grinned affectionately. He was relieved to see that no damn programs can stray his brother away from Annie. That nigga function was set up with her name script in it.

"That pharmacist huh ? How was she ?" Stack asked, provoking Elijah

"Tch" Elijah sucked his teeth, even if he hadn't recovered his memory yet, he learned to understand his brother's tricks "she was fine. Tall with a black obsidian skin. Full size, curvy body. The most beautiful part of her, would say were her eyes. Two roundish brown jewels, sloppy as she was always tired. I ever saw a glistening afro like hers before. She was wearing it in a updo, with a string of hair drilling down her breasts" Elijah hummed before continuing "she has no name tag. So I asked directly for it, instead"

Elias looked at his brother amazed. The first time he mentioned Annie's eyes was years ago. Stack remembered his brother stunned face when they bumped into her while she was sweeping her grandmother backyard.

His twin was stoned on place, mesmerized. He stuttered, eyes dilated, asked him about who she was, her family name, where to find her. Goddamn did Stack knew what to answer back then  !

"Still got a thing for these goddamn eyes huh, Elijah ?" Stack smirked, mumbling under his breath

"What ?"

"No, nothing" Stack said "just that I simply asked how she was and you gave me a whole essay. She got you huh" Stack chuckled

"She got ring on her finger. Stop disrespectin' her" Elijah stood off the giant armchair he was resting in.

"Bout' you ?"

"Ain't the same you know it."

"Cool. Still, that ain't telling me why ya got hard when that bitch pulled out ya dick bro"

"I was fucking that damn pharmacist—Annie in my dream."

Stack damn near choked. His laughter cut sharp, then turned into a wheeze as he leaned forward, wiping at his eyes.

"Boy—what?"

Elijah dropped back into the chair, arms crossed, jaw tight. He didn't repeat himself.

Stack blinked at him, half grinning, half shook.

"Goddamn."

Elijah stared straight ahead, unblinking.

"I woke up hard, confused. That blonde girl was pulling out my shit." Stack didn't move. He wasn't laughing no more.

"She laid there pretendin' she ain't know why. Like I ain't see that look in her eye."

"You ain't gotta explain none of that to me."

Elijah looked up, guarded. "Yeah? Feels like I do."

"No," Stack said. "You a man who got assaulted. End of story. Ain't no explanation needed when truth already bleeding out your mouth."

Stack rubbed the bridge of his nose.

"You said that, the woman pharmacist's name was Annie. Did it rang a bell ?"

"I don't know. I didn't even see her face in that dream"

"So, you just assumed it was Annie."

Elijah's mouth opened, then closed.

He shifted his glance somewhere left, as if the plain white wall became suddenly interesting.

"I—shit, man. Let's say she did turn me on a bit. Now what?"

Stack grinned, leaning back with arms crossed.

"Why you ain't get her then? I got her number, you know. She's a friend of mine."

Elijah snapped his head around. "You lyin'."

Stack shrugged, smug. "Try me."

"I ain't touchin' no married woman," Smoke muttered, shaking his head. "You saw that gold on her finger?"

"So?"

"So?" Elijah echoed, voice rising. "So I ain't that kinda man, nigga. No matter what I dreamed or how fine she is. I don't come between folks."

Stack raised a brow, amused. "Ain't say you had to snatch her ring off. Just... sayin' if she makin' you dream in color, maybe that ring doesn’t mean what you think it does."

Elijah scoffed, but the flinch in his eyes betrayed him.

"That ain't my business," he said, quieter now. "She ain't mine. And I ain't hers."

9:15 PM

"Carol. I don't feel good here."

"Relax. The night is still young."

Annie shifted on the leather barstool, tugging the hem of her dress down for the third time. It clung to her hips a little too tight, showed a little too much thigh. The neckline dipped lower than she remembered when Carol held it up at the house.

"This dress is too short Carol,"she whispered, eyes darting.

Carol didn't even look her way. She was already waving down the bartender with that southern confidence.

"It not short babe. It's sexy. And tonight we ain't playin' no damn Holy Mary."

Annie exhaled slow, her knees pressed tight. The lights spun above the dancefloor in flashes of blue and white, catching on the shimmer of sweat on bodies pressed too close. Her ears were already ringing from the bass, her heels sticking slightly to the beer-slick floor.

Both sat at the bar. Carol didn't stay long there, swinging to the center, shaking her whole body.

"Don't make the wait long Annie !" She shouted through the bass pulse

Annie rolled her eyes, decided to not leave this bar. Lord ! Her dress practically shoved up, showing her ass.

"Hey beautiful, how are you?"

Annie didn't turn right away. She heard the voice : smooth, confident—but kept her eyes on the drink menu she wasn't reading.

"I'm good," she answered.

He slid into the seat beside her, not too close. Well-dressed in a clean blazer, watch catching the bar light, cologne hanging but not heavy. He smiled, easy and polite.

"You sure? You look like you could use a drink."

She finally glanced at him. Mid-thirties maybe. Dark skin, arms covered with tattoos, trim beard, neat fade, calm eyes. He was handsome, undoubtedly. But she wasn't looking for anything he could offer.

"I'm alright, thanks."

He nodded, not pushing, just resting his elbows on the bar. But he didn't leave either.

"Long week?" he asked.

Annie gave a small sigh. "Something like that."

She was not playing hard to get, she just didn't want to get bother by such demi-godly creature, sitting by her side. Life taught her to always be aware of fine man.

He smiled again, then caught the bartender's eye. "Let me get her something light. Maybe cranberry and vodka? Just one."

Before she could protest, the drink was already being poured.

"I said I didn't—"

"I know," he said, handing it over. "But it's just a drink and—"

SPLASH

"Damn my bad. Thought you needed it more than her...I mean, a drink"

The man got drenched of cranberry, his blazer sticky and soaked, smelling of fierce vodka

Annie turned her gaze up, slowly, her heart catching in her throat. : Elijah

Tag List

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[yesimwriting]

I can see bestie drunkenly clinging onto Armand and trying to cover his face in kisses and he's like 😃 and Louis is like 😧

The poignant scent of alcohol isn't enough to blur the feel of your skin against his into obscurity, which is...incredibly unfortunate.

Armand exhales, a weak attempt at dismissing the warmth of your fingertips resting against his forearm. The contact is too absentminded to be considered significant. You're likely unaware of the extent of your proximity, the bulk of your attention too dedicated to Louis for you to notice anything else.

Louis keeps pulling your free hand towards him just for you to try to tug your wrist out of his grasp. Every once in awhile he awards your struggle by letting you nearly escape. The game is completely innocent, but the action behind it is feels much too volatile.

Armand frowns. "You two are behaving like children."

You turn your head towards him. "I'm sorry we're not 500-and--" You trail off, brow furrowing as you struggle to keep your response well structured in your current state. "Whatever the other number is."

Maybe Louis wasn't exaggerating when he described all of the work he had to put into getting you home tonight. "Tactful."

You let out a breath that feels more like a laugh than anything else. "I try."

"Ignore her." Louis has yet to let you go, but he's no longer tugging on your wrist. "You don't even want to know how much she had to drink tonight." Armand doesn't doubt that.

"Don't be mean. It wasn't that much."

Louis's eyes briefly narrow at that. "I had to keep you from running off with a stranger." Armand feels himself tense at the response. "And then I had to babysit you through getting ready for bed."

"That wasn't babysitting." You shift, your nails carefully dragging themselves up Armand's arm before you finally let go of him. You press your elbow into the mattress to sit up a little more before reaching for his hand again.

"Then what was it?" There's a sharpness to Louis's humor, but it's almost entirely undercut by the way that he adjusts his hold on your hand.

"It was us--hanging out while I did my skin care."

"Mhm." The sound is far from flat, but completely dismissive. Louis turns his head enough to look at Armand. "Can you believe her?"

Armand squeezes your hand. "She's your friend."

You frown, the set of your mouth coming dangerously close to a pout. "Please, you so love me." The certainty of the response is incredibly grating. "I make your life fun."

Something uncomfortably warm attempts to wedge itself between his ribs. "Yes, by constantly destroying my peace."

You're quiet for a second, assessing him with an openness that borders on unsettling. "You're very melodramatic." There's a gentleness to the response that doesn't suit the argument. You continue to watch him, your wide eyed expression oddly pensive. "And very pretty."

The phantom warmth begins to crawl its way up his neck, as heavy and suffocating as tar. His lips part, but before he's forced to respond, Louis lets out an easy laugh. "We don't need his head getting any bigger, ma chere."

"Don't worry." You're dragging your thumb against his knuckles, back and forth at an easy pace. "I'll ask him about his favorite movies later."

Louis grins before bringing the back of your palm to his lips. "You do that."

Armand sighs, allowing himself to ease against his pillows. "As if everything the two of you watch has artistic value."

The corner of your mouth tugs itself upwards at that. You straighten slightly, pushing yourself to sit up a little more before leaning towards him. You press a kiss against his shoulder. "We're joking."

Instead of moving back to your previous position, you relax enough to rest your head against his arm. You pull Louis's hand towards your lap as you settle into your new position. Louis indulges you, letting you extend his arm for him.

Louis remains still for another moment, permitting you to bend and straighten his fingers. Then, with no warning, he moves to sit up fully. "I'm going to get ready for bed." You lift your head slightly, eyebrows pinching together at the thought of being left behind. "I haven't fed yet."

You frown, moving your hand to fully cover the back of Louis's palm, as if that will be enough to get him to stay. "No."

"I'll be right back." When you don't ease, Louis carefully pulls his hand away from you.

You let out a heavy sigh, as if Louis's temporary absence is the kind of inconvenience you'll never recover from. "Fine."

Once you've given your halfhearted approval, Louis pushes himself to stand. "Behave," the warning lacks any real bite, "I mean it. Don't give Armand any headaches."

"Too late."

Louis glares at the response. "Don't start anything." This instruction, though still easygoing, is tinged by an underlying tension that Armand can't quite bring himself to hold against his companion. After all, you're the embodiment of the first rays of sunlight reaching the horizon, and he's the entity that daybreak is meant to purify into nonexistence.

Armand frowns. "No promises."

Louis throws another look in his companion's direction before turning towards the door. Armand's hold on your hand tightens as Louis approaches the bedroom's door.

As soon as you're left alone, you lift your head off of his shoulder enough to look at him. "Hi."

The word is much too enthusiastic. Armand turns his head towards you slowly. "Hello."

You shift slightly, lifting your chin a fraction of an inch as you study him. There's a warmth behind your gaze that implies a fondness he isn't sure how to bear. "What?" The question feels hollow.

"Nothing," the response is easy in its genuineness.

The imagined heat from earlier returns with a vengeance, burning its way through him. Armand permits himself to hold your wide eyed stare. "You're drunk."

You blink, expression morphing into something somber. You adjust your hold on his hand, your fingers pressing into his palm. "Not that drunk." When he's not immediately eased by the gesture, you lift your other arm, holding your wrist out to him. "You can be drunk, too."

The gesture, though clearly just another indicator of the state that you're in, is almost overwhelmingly genuine. You let out a small breath as Armand turns your inner wrist towards him. He lets his thumb settle against your pulse point. Condemning you would be a simple thing.

His companion would hold your pain and the permanence of the change against him for some time, but eventually Louis would come to see it as for the best. Louis can only live in his imagined version of reality for so long, he'll eventually have to acknowledge the limitations of your mortality.

And if Louis's anger were to impact your perception of him, it wouldn't matter. You'd be bonded to him in a way that no amount of friendship, or hatred, or affection could undo.

Armand exhales, forcing himself to replace distorted fantasy with reality. He drags his thumb against your pulse point, allowing himself to dwell on the warmth of your skin. He pulls your arm forward, pressing a kiss against the inside of your wrist.

The contact affects your pulse, your blood inching its way up your veins and towards your chest. "I'm alright."

You aren't eased by his response. "Are you sure?" You pull your wrist out of his grasp before shifting to sit up a little straighter.

You then extend your arm again, placing your hand against his shoulder. Armand recognizes the contact as an attempt at comforting him.

He lets himself reflect on the question. Why wouldn't he be alright? What right do you have to impact him in any capacity? He's an ancient being who could end your existence because of the vaguest impulse to do so, and you're only...who you are. Why should your proximity, or your distance, or your intentions behind either matter to him at all?

"Why wouldn't I be?" He stares at some vague point just beyond you as he answers.

You drag your thumb down his shoulder, the side of your hand moving past the collar of his shirt and onto his bare skin. "I don't know," the response is much more uncertain than you would be if you were sober, "You didn't want to go out with us, and you seem tense."

Armand angles his head towards you, permitting himself to look at you again. "I'm sure you managed enough attention without me there."

You squeeze his shoulder, the warmth of your skin bleeding through the thin material of his shirt. "I like when you're there."

He's studying you with a repulsive transparency, his mind taking in each aspect of your expression. There's nothing cruel or mocking or even uncertain in the way that you're looking at him. You're staring at him with an unbridled affection he's underserving of.

Armand lifts an arm, his hand coming to rest against your shoulder. "I don't know what to do with you."

Your brow furrows at that. It takes you a moment to respond, "I don't think you need to do anything with me."

Everything must feel so simple, so easy to you. Armand's lips part, but before he can speak, you lean towards him. You press a kiss against his shoulder. You then shift again, giving yourself the space needed to kiss the exposed skin just above his shirt's collar.

You still, as if waiting for him to do something that indicates disapproval. When no warning comes, you place another kiss against his skin, this time a little closer to his collarbone.

He exhales, pressing his lips together to keep from reacting. The hand not holding onto your arm grasps at the bedding in a desperate attempt at remaining neutral. When neither attempt at reducing his tension work, his adjusts his hold on your shoulder. He bears your proximity for another moment before pulling you back.

You're quick to comply, straightening your head enough to look at him. Armand holds your stare. There's a gentle curiosity to the way that you're watching him, a fragile interest as you wait for his reaction.

It wouldn't be a difficult thing to push you away, to redirect you towards something less tarnishing. He doesn't look away from you as he tries to will himself to do the right thing for you. When the strength needed to commit to creating necessary distance doesn't find him, Armand brings a hand to the collar of his shirt. He pulls the material out of place, revealing more of his neck.

You blink, your focus shifting between his features and the newly revealed skin. It takes you longer than it should to understand the implications of the gesture.

Slowly, you shift forward again, pressing a chaste kiss against his collar bone. He allows his eyes to fall shut as you make your way up his neck. You don't stop until you've reached the start of his jaw.

You stop as suddenly as you started, moving far enough away from him to rest your temple against his shoulder with no warning.

It would be easy for things to remain quiet between the two of you, but after a long moment, Armand speaks, "Are you tired?"

You give no indication of discomfort as you take his hand again. "A little." Hm. It's the kind of half-truth you'd only use while completely exhausted.

Armand squeezes your hand to his. "Then maybe we should go to sleep."

"Maybe." Your mutual agreement isn't enough to convince either of you to move.

----

a/n lowkey have mixed feelings on this but it's been nearly done in the drafts for a minute so <3

[dynaloy]

The Misunderstanding

"You're the love of my life"

❯ summary: Park Sung-Hoon misinterprets a situation involving you and another man, leading to a heated argument. You try to clear the air and maintain a respectful co-parenting relationship but your famous baby daddy has a certain obsession with you.

❯ pairings: Park Sung-Hoon x fem!reader

❯ words: 2.0k

"You can't be serious," Park Sung-Hoon's voice was tight through phone, his eyes narrowed as he studied you across the crowded room. His grip on the champagne flute was so tense, you thought it might shatter.

"I'm not," you replied, trying to keep the frustration out of my own voice. you had been here before, but never in public, never in front of his colleagues. The air had their curious glances and whispers.

"Then why are you with him?" He nodded towards Mark, a producer from your office who had approached for a work-related discussion. Mark's eyes darted between you, sensing the tension but blissfully unaware of its source.

"It's just business," you said calmly, trying to ignore the heat rising in your cheeks. "You know Mark. He's just talking shop."

Sung-Hoon's jaw clenched, and he took a step closer. "You know what everyone else sees, don't you?" His words were a low growl, meant only for you. "They see my baby's mother with another man. What kind of message does that send?"

"What message are you talking about?" you shot back, your patience wearing thin. "We're just colleagues discussing a project. Our daughter is the only thing we share, remember?"

The room seemed to close in around you, the hum of conversation fading to background noise. His gaze was intense, searching your face for something, anything that would confirm his fears or allay them.

"I know what I see," he said, his voice low and dangerous. "And it's not just about tonight. It's about the way you've been acting lately. The secret phone calls, the late nights at the office."

"What are you implying?" you took a step back. "You can't honestly believe that."

He took a deep breath, visibly struggling to keep his emotions in check. "I don't know what to believe anymore," he admitted, his voice ragged. "But I won't let you take Soo-Min away from me. She's all I have."

The mention of your daughter was like a knife to your heart. "You think I would do that?" you whispered, hurt and disbelief etched on my features.

"I don't know," he said, his eyes searching mine. "But I can't ignore it."

The weight of his words hit you like a ton of bricks. This was more than a simple misunderstanding; it was a culmination of fears and insecurities that had been festering beneath the surface for months. Sung-Hoon's life had changed so much since your fateful encounter. The paparazzi, the adoring fans, the constant scrutiny – it had all taken a toll on him, and it was clear that he was now projecting his own fears onto you.

You looked at Mark, who had tactfully excused himself, sensing the tension. He gave you an apologetic look before retreating to the safety of the crowd. Turning back to Sung-Hoon, you took a deep breath to gather your thoughts. "We need to talk," you said firmly. "But not here."

He followed you outside, the cool evening air a stark contrast to the heated atmosphere inside. You led the way to a quiet spot under the soft glow of a streetlamp. Once out of earshot, you faced him, hands on your hips. "I have never given you a reason to doubt me," you said, your voice steady despite the turmoil of emotions within. "I have always put Soo-Min first, even when it meant sacrificing my own happiness."

Sung-Hoon looked away, his expression a tumultuous mix of anger, hurt, and regret. "I know," he finally said, his voice a hoarse whisper. "But it's hard when it looks like he is fucking you."

You flinched at his crude words. "What are you talking about?"

He took another step closer, the warmth of his breath mingling with the cool night air. "The way he looks at you," he said, his voice thick with accusation. "The way he touches your arm when he laughs. It's all so… intimate."

You felt a spark of anger ignite in your chest. "You're my biggest regret," you spat out, the words surprising even you with their venom. "The night I let you into my bed was the worst mistake of my life."

Sung-Hoon's expression fell, his handsome features twisting into a grimace of pain. "So you regret Soo-Min too?" His voice cracked, the accusation heavy in the air.

You felt a wave of anger and sadness wash over you. "How could you say that?" you exclaimed, your voice shaking. "Soo-Min is the best thing that ever happened to me, the only thing good to come out of that night!"

Sung-Hoon's eyes searched yours, looking for truth in the words that you had thrown at him. His grip on the champagne flute tightened further, until a single drop of liquid trickled down the stem and onto his hand. "Really?" he asked, his voice strained. "Didn't look like it when you were moaning my name, telling me how good I made you feel, and you even had my baby… "

You slapped him before you could stop yourself. The sound echoed through the quiet night, leaving an uncomfortable silence between you. The sting of your palm on his cheek was a stark reminder of the line that had just been crossed. His eyes widened in shock.

"I regret nothing about Soo-Min," you said through gritted teeth. "But I regret having talked to you and letting you get close to me, letting you come into my house and take advantage of me. I never wanted a relationship with you I was focused on my work, that's why I came to Korea."

Sung-Hoon's eyes searched yours, the accusation hanging in the air. His hand came up to touch the red mark on his cheek, and you could see the realization dawn on his face. "Is that what you think?" he murmured, his voice barely audible. "That I used you?"

You didn't answer, the anger still simmering just beneath the surface. You felt the weight of the last few years, the endless photo shoots, interviews, and scandal articles that had painted you as the villain in his love life. The countless nights you had spent alone, raising your daughter while he basked in the spotlight.

"Look, I don't know what's going on in your head," you said, trying to keep your voice even. "But I can't do this. I can't have you accusing me of things that aren't true, and I won't let you drag Soo-Min into your mess."

Sung-Hoon's gaze softened, and he took a step closer, reaching out to touch your arm. "I know," he whispered, his voice thick with emotion. "I'm sorry. I just can't help it. You're the love of my life."

You stared at his hand on your arm, feeling a tornado of emotions whirl within you. "Don't say that," you pleaded, your voice trembling. "You can't keep putting this on me. I have a life too, and I can't live in the shadow of your obsession."

Sung-Hoon's hand fell away, and he took a step back, looking at you with a mix of confusion and desperation.

"I'm not obsessed," he said, his voice low and defensive. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a pack of cigarettes, lighting one with shaky hands. The flame from the lighter cast an orange glow across his furrowed brow as he took a deep drag, passing his free hand through his hair in agitation. The smoke curled around him like a shroud, obscuring his features for a brief moment before dissipating into the night. "I just want to be with you."

You watched him, the anger in his eyes mirrored in the fiery tip of his cigarette. "We had an agreement," you reminded him, your voice firm. "For Soo-Min's sake, we'd keep our personal feelings separate. You're breaking that."

Sung Hoon took a long drag, the end of the cigarette glowing brightly before he exhaled a plume of smoke into the night. "I know," he said, his voice thick with regret. "But every time I see you with someone else, it feels like you're slipping away from me."

You sighed, the weight of his words settling heavily in your chest. "You know that's not true," you said softly. "I'm not with anyone. I'm just trying to live my life, to give Soo-Min the best I can."

Sung Hoon's gaze didn't leave yours, the embers of his cigarette burning a small, fiery hole in the quiet night. "But what if I want to be the one to give her the best?" he asked, his voice cracking. "What if I want to be more than just a father who sends child support?"

You felt the sting of his words, the accusation in them hitting a nerve. "You know that's not fair," you replied, your voice firm but laced with sadness. "We agreed on this for a reason. You have your career, and I have mine."

Sung Hoon took a deep breath, the cigarette trembling slightly between his fingers. "I know," he said, his voice filled with regret. "But sometimes I just can't help but wish things were different." He took a step closer, the warmth of his body reaching you despite the cool evening air. "Do you ever think about us?"

You felt a lump form in your throat, the memories of your brief but intense romance rushing to the surface. "Of course I do," you admitted, your voice barely a whisper. "But we can't change the past. We have to focus on Soo-Min."

His eyes searched yours, and for a moment, you saw the raw vulnerability that had drawn you to him all those years ago. "I know," he said, taking one last drag from his cigarette before flicking it away.

You felt the weight of his gaze, the unspoken words hanging in the air between you. You knew he was right; you had to focus on Soo-Min. But it was hard when the man you had once loved was standing so close, his presence a potent reminder of the passion that had once consumed you both.

"Let's go back inside," you said, your voice firm but gentle. "We can talk more about this when we're not at an event."

Sung Hoon nodded, his gaze still locked on yours, and you felt a pang of regret for the accusations that had flown. He looked so lost, so hurt, and you knew that this was not the man you had fallen for, but a man who had been consumed by his fears and the weight of his fame.

You turned on your heel and began walking back to the event, the sound of your heels clicking against the pavement echoing in the stillness. As you approached the entrance, you called for your driver, your heart racing. You needed space, to think and breathe without the suffocating pressure of his accusations.

As the car pulled away from the curb, you couldn't help but glance back at him. He was still standing under the streetlamp, staring after you with a mix of anger and despair. You knew that look; it was the same one he had worn the night you had told him you were pregnant. The same look he had when he had realized that his world was about to be forever changed.

Sung Hoon saw you going and called one of his bitches just to realease a quick nut and then he pretended to be busy with work for the rest of the night. He had to deal with his emotions alone, the crowd inside was no match for the storm he was feeling.

The ride home was a blur of lights and sounds that you barely registered. You were lost in thought, replaying the conversation in your mind, searching for a way to mend the rift that had opened between you. When you arrived, you found Soo-Min fast asleep, her small form nestled under her blanket, her face serene in the moonlight filtering through the window. the babysitter gave you a knowing look as she handed over the house keys. She had seen the news, the whispers, and the glares at events.

You knew that the situation had to change, for her sake if nothing else. You couldn't keep letting Sung-Hoon's insecurities affect your relationship, especially when it came to Soo-Min.

I'm thinking about making a sequel, maybe a part 2, would you like it?

[legendofmorons]

Written in the stars (forever on loop) Chapter two - Catch my breath (what else can I do?)

Pairing: eventual Poly! Chain x reader, platonic Wind & reader

Series Rating: T

Summary: Day two with the chain has its challenges. Thankfully, Epona and Wind are there to make things better. Four and Sky have a heart to heart while a late night talk with Warriors leaves you with some questions and thoughts.

Warnings: grief, cursing

Other: If I missed anything, please let me know

Previous masterlist. Next

Breakfast is your saving grace in the morning, especially because you need something to do that isn't focusing on everything that happened yesterday.

You sit by Sky again, though Wind sits on your other side.

Sky looks exhuasted, blinking blearily and having to stifle a yawn every so often. He's got puffy eyes... has he been crying? Maybe it was just a bad day...

No one else speaks to you or sits near you, though. There's a tense atmosphere you could cut with a very dull butter knife.

"So, what do you do back home?" Wind asks before stuffing a bite of his food in his mouth.

You smile politely, "I work, I listen to music, I talk to my friends and family. Nothing exciting. What about you?"

"I like to sail a lot." Wind says.

This isn't a surprise. He gives off pirate gremlin energy anyhow. It's good to know it is from a hobby and not just your own interpretation of what is apparently more than a video game.

You smile a little more real this time. "That's good, it's important to have hobbies. Do you live near the sea?"

"You know about the sea!" Wind declares excitedly.

You laugh a little, "Of course I do."

You can feel the way all the others look at you with strange gazes and furrowing brows or outright glares.

You focus your gaze on Wind, blocking out the others.

Wind looks absolutely delighted, though, his grin wide and bright. "No one else but Wild knows. You do, though!"

"I do." You agree easily.

The young teen is adoreable in the excitement that causes his ears to twitch a little.

Sky smiles too, "He's a fan of the sea."

"Maybe we can visit it." You offer.

Wind cheers, beaming at you. "I hope so!"

Time clears his throat to get everyone's attention. The air goes thick again around you.

You turn your gaze to the oldest, wondering yet again why he has the fierce diety marking on only half his face if he has them at all.

"We're going to keep looking for a town today, we need to get our new friends some supplies since they were caught unawares." Time says.

He hasn't looked at you. Most of them haven't looked at you. Not really.

You feel your face heat up a little. Embarrassment floods your being.

If you had known you were going to end up here, you would have prepared more!

"We should also probably see about finding a river or something soon." Warriors adds firmly.

The others agree with both sentiments.

Wind elbows you playfully, "Don't worry, we all got caught unawares at least once. I started my adventure by hitting things with sticks."

The teen gives a wink at the end, like he's telling you a secret.

You laugh, recalling that sequence in Wind Waker. Immediately, you feel guilty simply for having loved and played the games.

Apparently, the world of Hyrule is real.

Oh.

Right.

This is all so bizarre.

You played through what were probably horrible quests and memories for fun. (You didn't know! If you had known - breathe. You remind yourself to breathe.)

Last night's dreams were weird.

Everything is so different

"Don't overthink." Sky chides lightly although, it sounds like it's something he says on autopilot, his face twisting with an unreadable emotion.

Grief, maybe? But worry, too.

"Okay." You manage.

"Twilight, Wild, Wind, Legend, and Sky, you'll all look for a river. Warriors, Four, Hyrule, and I will take (Y/n) and look for a town." Time says.

No!

You don't want to leave Sky and Wind. They are the least tense!

At least you'll be with Four and Hyrule. They are far less intimidating than Time and Warriors.

"Don't worry," Wind whispers to you as he nudges your side lightly. "They're all big softies."

He gives you a dramatic wink.

You crack a weak smile. "Really??"

"Really." Wind assures.

"Thanks." You say softer.

The teen grins at you. He looks pretty eleated in general.

"Alright, when you are ready, we'll head out." Time says to you. He's finally looking at you, but his face is stony.

You acknowledge his words and work on finishing your food.

After you've eaten and everything has been packed up, the groups split up.

You are flanked by four men as you walk. Warriors and Four on either side of you with Time in the back and Hyrule beside him.

None of them talk except to tell you if you're turning. Their eyes never seem to be on you, but you swear they're watching.

The silence is strange. (Some strange subconscious part of you rails against the tense air around you. This is wrong!)

"So... uhm... what's with the portals?" You ask after a good twenty minutes of walking.

This seems like a solid start point. The silence is too much anyway.

The others seem to share a silent conversation around you. None of them look at you.

Warriors looks at you as he answers. "There is a Sahdow opening them and letting lose monsters of different eras."

You nod. That sounds like some Legend of Zelda stuff right there... You should probably stop thinking of this as a video game world.

Four sighs. "Of course we're all here because we're heroes."

"That makes sense... why am I here?" You ask, feeling as if you're in free fall without a parachute as far as information goes.

There's a beat of silence.

The men exchange glances around you, yet another silent converstion exchanging in seconds.

"We don't know." Time says evenly, a measured tone flowing in his voice. His gaze is still too heavy on you, as if he's daring you to do something.

"Okay." You manage.

Four offers you a slightly strained smile. "We'll figure it out."

His smile is wrong. His eyes are wrong. He dosen’t believe in what he says, does he?

"I hope so."

Hyrule hums once. "Are you a hero where you're from? That might make it make sense if you are."

You laugh a little, startled at the notion. "No. No, my life back home is... boring enough."

Four and Warriors both look spooked by your laugh, looking at you with frowns. The latter looks a little angry, too, with pinched brows.

Okay. Maybe it was rude to laugh?

"Oh." Hyrule says.

"Boring can be good." Warriors offers after a moment, face fixing itself into an overly polite mask.

You smile weakly. "I guess so."

"Are you a royal then?" Hyrule asks.

You laugh again. "No. I'm definitely not."

The silence comes back, heavy and awkward. You don't bother trying to break it again.

There's something wrong in the air. You just can't place it. You have barely interacted with any of them!

At least Hyrule and Four just seem to avoid watching you. Or maybe it just feels that way because Warriors and Time won't stop - even if you don't catch them, you can feel it.

What is it with these heroes and the staring problem?

Yeesh.

Hopefully, when you see Wind again, He can lighten the mood.

-------

The trip to town was awkward, stilted, and almost painful. When you're dropped off at an inn to what for the boys to get the others, you are relieved.

You've gotten a travel pack with a place for your bed roll. You've also been given a few spare clothes, which is nice.

You are apparently to share an inn room with someone tonight.

Hopefully, it's Wind or Sky. They haven't glared at you or made you feel unwanted.

You settle on one of two beds, wondering what you have done to earn their cold shoulders. Did you... over step somehow?

Maybe they know about the video games? They aren't self-aware in the game, hopefully?

Nothing makes sense anyway.

There's a knock at the door before someone calls. "Hey, it's just me! We're roommates!"

Wind.

Thank goodness.

The door opens to reveal a grinning Wind.

"Did you have fun?" You ask.

The teen is practically bouncing. "I did! It was great, oh my goodness! Wild and Sky got tangled up in some roots, and we had to finish a mini dungeon!"

"That sounds... busy?"

"It was fun! We got some rupees, too."

"That's good!" You say a bit more cheerily.

The boy grins.

He asks you about your trip, and you just say it was okay, a little awkward, but not horrible.

Dinner is quick, and every time you try to make conversation with anyone but Wind they look pained by the attempt, and it peeters out.

Even Sky seems a little skittish about you during dinner, although his eyes look puffy again. Maybe he's going through something?

You sigh, deciding to go see Epona. Maybe she'll let you pet her?

Epona is at least less scared of you. She just sniffs your hand curiously.

As soon as she sniffs you, she's pressing her face into your hand insistently, as if asking for attention. Who are you to deny her?

She's sweet, at least.

"Such a good girl you are." You coo to Epona sweetly.

She isn't at fault for the tense atmosphere of the boys.

Petting her mane gently is relaxing in ways you hadn't quite expected. She's all but leaning into it, a few soft snorts here and there but otherwise seemingly content to be near you.

"Aw, I wish I had something to give you, sweetheart."

Epona just leans a little more into your touch.

"I'll just keep an eye out. Maybe we can find an apple or something for you."

You can feel a few others watching you, but you don't turn. It's much nicer here with Epona than with the heavy silence and strained attempts at conversation provided by the boys.

Although Wind is certainly picking up some slack there, he deserves some cookies or something.

"How'd you get to be so sweet, pretty girl?" You muse.

It's a nice break from havin to be around anyone. Epona is so gentle and sweet, at least with you. She's happy to let you pet her man and sctach behind her ears gently.

Animals are amazing.

-------

Sky and Four take to their room, both looking forward to getting away from the painful reminder you are. They know it's not your fault, you seem nice, but still...

Grief is funny sometimes.

The moment the door closes, Sky's carefully polite face is falling into twisting grief.

Four just flops himself onto his bed. His head hurts, pounding like a horribly novice out of step marching band is playing their show inside his skull.

It's too much.

Sky just leans against the door, sinking to the floor with his head leaning back.

"Why couldn't they look different?" Sky asks in a shaking whisper.

The question escapes his mouth on accident.

Four turns over, so he's staring up at the ceiling. "I don't know."

Sky dosen’t turn. Instead, he just closes his eyes.

"It's not their fault." Four says, staring at the ceiling.

"No." Sky agrees. "It's not."

"I feel so bad for them." Four manages.

He does.

Against the grief and the anger and the stupid hope that twirl around his lost love, there's sympathy. Sympathy for the unexpected start of an adventure.

Sympathy for the lost look in their eyes at unfamiliarity scripts of hylian writing.

"Goddess... They looked terrified when they first saw me." Sky whispers into the room.

He uses that expression of terror to ground himself. It sounds bad. He knows it sounds bad.

But your terror is proof that you aren't his beloved sunshine.

His sunshine... never looked at him like that. They were never scared of him. Not when they saw him seal the imprisoned. Not when they saw him fight Demise.

They were never scared.

The expression of terror on your face chafes at his soul, but it helps him remember you aren't anyone else but a stranger in a scary situation.

"I think they're scared of Time." Four says.

Sky laughs weakly. "He is intimidating..."

"It's uncanny... They're identical in looks and personality."

"I know."

"How do you do it? I can barely look at them."

"I - can barely look away." Sky laughs, though it almost sounds like crying.

Four hums once, thoughtful mostly. His entire being, all of his colors, struggle under the grief you've stirred up. His empathize for his soul brothers is endless.

His grief is even more vast.

"Goddess. They'd be ashamed of me." Sky admits, "Dancing around a stranger trying to keep everything under wraps and falling apart as soon as the door shuts."

Four narrows his eyes, pushing up to lean on his elbows. His glare is trained on Sky. "Don't sully thier memory by assigning your shame to them."

"What?" Sky swallows, looking at Four with wide eyes.

The hero of skies looks like a kicked puppy, glassy eyes, and shaking form.

Four dosen’t care. Not now. Not when the memory of their soulmate's memory is being treated so poorly.

"They wouldn't be ashamed of you for doing your best in a hard situation. They wouldn't blame you for having complex feelings. Your own guilt shouldn't be projected onto their memory." Four says, or maybe that's Blue and Vio in control for now. Who can tell?

They all miss you. Every piece of him misses you.

"How could they not be?" Sky asks. "I'm messing everything up!"

"Legend hasn't stopped glaring at them, Time just stares silently, I can barely look at them. Sky, you're being more normal about this than anyone!"

"Wind is doing much better."

"Wind hasn't lost them yet. Of course, he's doing better." Four rolls his eyes, pushing down the envy.

"I know. I... Why does he still have them when no one else does?"

"He's fourteen. There's plenty of time for him to get fucked over like the rest of us." Four snaps.

"I didn't mean- I just miss them."

"I know." Four sighs, closing his eyes. "I know... I think we all do."

Silence falls over the room, heavy but not uncomfortable. It's the silence that falls over loved ones when they've had a hard conversation and need to think but still feel safe together.

Four falls back against the bed, trying to remember the way his lover once held him. Perhaps it's self destructive, but when it helps him cope, he dosen’t care.

He can feel the colors, his head is still pounding.

Blue is restless as ever, a rage at the reminder that you're gone. Anger that Sky could speak of your memory so poorly.

Green and Red are trying to calm it all down. They're trying to focus on the better times they had with thier lover.

Vio... is Vio. He's focusing on the facts again.

Like always.

Four focuses on his breathing, pretending that it's them here counting it instead of him.

Who knew trying to keep himself together would be so hard?

-------

You're outside trying to get some air after having the same dream from last night. The argument and lead up to something horrible in the dream is - draining.

The night air is chilly, but it's a nice relief from the stifling feeling of the bed.

Stars above you make out patterns you shouldn't be able to recognize, but you swear you see a set of stars that's supposed to be a harp. It isn't the harp constellation from your world, though. It's different.

You sit on the steps that lead up to the inn porch, leaning against the banister.

There's some sort of spinning string instrument tune stuck in your head, unplayable as the origin of the second and strange harp constellation.

There's the sound of the door opening and closing behind you. Probably another person in search of some air.

"What... are you doing our here?" Asks a man.

You turn, looking over your shoulder to see Warriors, still in his entire outfit, chain mail, and all.

His gaze is heavy, not as bad as Time's but strange as ever.

You sigh, trying to avoid tensing up at the sight of him. "I needed some air... I guess you do, too."

Warriors sighs, "You could say that."

"Don't let me stop you." You say, turning your head back to facing forwards and gazing out at the small town before you.

A lazy night breeze blows across you, ruffling your hair a little.

Warriors is silent behind you, a large presence. He's unmoving.

You're left wondering if he's still there for a moment.

It seems rude to check, though.

How he can be so still is beyond you, but you suppose that's probably a skill he picked up from the war. (A war you're not meant to know about.)

Warriors moves finally, walking until he's beside you. He stands there, unmoving again as he stares up at the stars.

"You shouldn't be out here without a weapon." He says finally.

You glance up at him. "Why? It's a small town."

"Ambushes can happen anytime anywhere."

"I can't say that's something I've had to worry about much." You admit. Which is true, for all the creeps and killers of your world... none of them are literal monsters.

Besides, you don't have a weapon right now. Why would you need one while traveling with the group?

"Count yourself lucky." Warriors tells you, "You should start worrying about it, though. Our group gets ambushed often."

You take a slow breath, trying to decide if you're supposed to respond or not. What do you even say to that?

He looks at you, face carefully neutral in a way that feels vaugley threatened. "You... aren't a fighter, are you?"

"Not the way you guys seem to be."

"You've never fought a war... have you?" Warriors asks in a soft voice.

He sounds- he sounds like your answer is important to this question. He sounds like you have some huge sway over what happens with this answer.

His face is still carefully blank.

"No. I've never fought in a war." You say slowly, trying to make sense of whatever this is.

Warriors let's out a slow, heavy sigh. "I hope it stays that way."

"Me too." You say.

You mean it, too. How could you not? Who hopes to get pulled into a war? Not you.

Moments pass, and thick silence seems to press in on you.

"I'm sorry." You say finally.

Warriors looks at you, face still unnervingly calm.

What life has he led that he's so good at neutral poker faces?

"Why?" He asks you.

That's a great question. Why are you sorry?

There's so many reasons.

You're sorry you played their games and enjoyed them.

You're sorry that you're here and slowing them down.

You're sorry that you came unprepared, and they had to step up.

You're sorry he's lost so much.

"I'm sorry I've been such a pain." You settle on. "I know I slowed you guys down and that you stepped up yesterday to help make sure I'm set up for whatever it is we've all been dragged into."

Warriors sighs while something heavy flashes through his eyes before it disappears. "You don't need to apologize. We weren't going to kick you aside."

"I guess. I'm still sorry."

"Do you know how many times I've heard these kinds of apologies?" He asks.

You shake your head. "No."

He looks up to the sky again. "Too many times. Too many people have told me they're sorry for things they can't control. That they're sorry for me doing something simple."

"Oh."

"Don't waste time or words on things like that." Warriors tells you with a stern look.

You would imagine it's a look he picked up as a captain.

"Okay." You breathe out softly.

"I mean it, (Y/n)." He says, though he sounds far away. It's like he's actually speaking to someone else.

Someone he lost.

"Okay." You say again softer.

-------

Next

[ravenrothstr]

Me and You, and The Spaces In Between

summary. Y/N takes a long vacation after a heated argument with her boss. With her career hanging by a thread, she escapes to a peaceful getaway, where she unexpectedly meets Jaehyun, unaware of his identity.

genre. idol! au. work! au. fluff

words count. 18.0k

disclaimer. the story is fully fictional. other names mentioned are just for the story and pure imagination, with no bad intentions

tags. @apolloxxivmin

-- ˚˖𓍢ִ໋`🌿:✧˚.📷⋆𖧧 --

Every day, you merge into the city’s endless flow, a quiet figure lost in the current of bustling lives. Your weight is invisible but suffocating—a dull, relentless pressure that wraps around your chest and pulls your shoulders low. You drift through the same grey office building, slip into your usual seat, and speak in a voice that seems to evaporate as soon as it leaves your lips. Surrounded by colleagues who hardly notice you, you feel like a ghost, an echo fading in a room with louder voices.

"Good morning, sir", you greeted your boss, Mr Noh.

Unanswered, unnoticed. Like always.

The hierarchy here is an unbreakable chain, with you at the very bottom. You feel it every day, every slight glance past you, every ignored idea, every task passed down without a thought. Numbed by the countless responsibilities that serve everyone else but you.

Each day feels the same as the last, blurring into a cycle that leaves you feeling less alive. Trapped within this silent existence, you wonder if you’ve forgotten how to hope.

"Y/N, meeting", Aeri reminded you.

And once again, it feels like you woke up on the wrong side of the bed when you hear your boss call you in privately to his office.

"We're giving you some time off."

"Pardon?"

You pause, recalling the tense moment with your manager, Mr. Han, when you submitted a proposal under your own name instead of his. The argument had been fierce—no one else in the company had ever been bold enough to stand up to him like that.

--

"You know how this company operates. It’s about hierarchy and respect. This isn’t a game, Y/N. You’re fortunate to even be here. You need to understand your place," Mr. Han said, his tone looking down on you.

Finally, you looked up to meet his gaze.

"Looks like you’re lucky too, Mr. Han. If we were recognizing talent, you’d be beneath me."

--

You were confused. Why would you be receiving time off? Were they suspending you for knowing your worth and finally pointing out the mistakes in the company?

"Y/N, I suggest you take a break for a month or two. We know working in this industry, especially for women, can be challenging, with emotions and all."

Your heart sank. You understood what he meant, even if he avoided the term. You walked back to your desk to pack up your things as your coworkers began to whisper around you. You tried your best to swallow the situation, but you couldn’t help catching Mr Han out of the corner of your eye—perfectly sitting at his desk, leaning back in his chair, unsuspended and free of any disciplinary action.

What a world we live in.

--

As you walk home, your heart begins to shatter. No one ever warned you about being an adult when you were a kid. All the stories summed up life with nice things—love, happiness, hope.

Hope.

Something you haven’t felt in a long time.

The next day feels strangely different as if the world has shifted ever so slightly in the light of dawn. You’ve cried the whole night, the weight of everything finally breaking through the dam you had built within.

As the first rays of sunlight peek through your window, you reach for your laptop. The familiar device now feels like a portal to the past.You pull up old photos, and as you scroll through each image, a wave of nostalgia washes over you. They’re snapshots of a time when life felt more colourful, the world more open.

"I was so happy, everything was brighter", you thought to yourself.

You can almost hear the laughter and feel the warmth of those sunlit moments. You remember the promise you once made to yourself: “I’ll capture whatever makes me happy.” It was your goal, your way of finding beauty in the everyday.

As you linger on a particularly beautiful shot, quiet determination begins to bloom in your chest. In that fleeting moment of clarity, you realize what you truly need: to escape, to break free from the chains that have held you down for far too long, and to reclaim the part of yourself that has been lost in the shadows.

--

“Jeju? What’s with the random trip?” Aeri’s voice crackled through the phone as you made the call after arriving at Jeju Airport.

You paused at her response, recalling the dark moments you had faced recently. You longed to tell her how you felt like you were dying inside, but now wasn’t the time.

“Well, it’s a long story,” you replied, trying to keep your tone light, though a hint of weariness slipped through. Aeri hesitated on the other end, sensing something was off.

“Are you okay, Y/N? You sound… different.”

You glanced around the busy airport, considering her concern.

“I’ll talk about it later,” you said finally, trying to sound reassuring. “I just need some time to clear my head.”

Aeri sighed, still worried. “Alright, but take care of yourself, okay? And call me if you need anything. I’ll be here.”

“Thanks, Aeri,” you said softly.

With that, you hung up and slipped your phone back into your bag. As you stepped out of the airport, a sense of relief washed over you. Jeju was beautiful, even under the cloak of night. You couldn’t help but smile, feeling lighter already. This was exactly what you needed—a place far removed from all the chaos.

--

After checking in at your hotel, you were eager to explore, despite the late hour. Spotting a nearby bike rental station, you quickly rented one, excitement bubbling inside you as you anticipated soaking in the atmosphere of Jeju at night.

Pedalling along the quiet streets, the cool night air invigorated you, and the gentle sound of waves crashing in the distance created a soothing backdrop. The moon hung low in the sky, casting a silvery light that danced on the water. You felt a surge of freedom as you rode, each pedal pushing you further away from the chaos of your life.

"Please, just let time stop. Just for a moment," you thought as you pedaled, enjoying the peacefulness around you.

But then, as you turned a corner, disaster struck. You didn’t see the other bike until it was too late, and with a loud clunk, you collided, sending both of you off balance. You stumbled to a stop, heart racing, and looked up to see a young man—his surprised expression mirroring your own.

“Oh no, I’m so sorry!” you exclaimed, rushing to check if he was alright.

He brushed himself off, standing tall with a sharp glare. His features were striking, and you could sense his annoyance, though he didn’t seem to want to dwell on it. As you both steadied your bikes, you felt the tension in the air.

“I didn’t mean to ruin your ride,” you said, feeling slightly embarrassed. “I’m really sorry. It was an accident.”

He sighed, his frustration still evident, but he seemed to be reining it in. “Just… be careful next time,” he muttered, adjusting his bike before giving you one last look and riding off into the night.

You stood there, watching him go, your initial embarrassment shifting to frustration. This definitely wasn’t how you had pictured starting your trip. Just when you thought the encounter was over, fate had other plans.

--

The next morning, you wandered down to the hotel’s cozy café for breakfast, eager to indulge in some local cuisine. The rich aroma of freshly brewed coffee filled the air, mingling with the scent of warm pastries. You settled at a small table near the open terrace, enjoying the view of the sun rising over the horizon.

You began to take out your new film camera, it was a camera you had once promised yourself you would fill with happy encounters, but that promise had fallen by the wayside as you drowned yourself in work. Struggling to get a grip on how it functioned, you started to look through the settings when a figure walked past your table.

It was him—the guy from last night. He sat down at his own table, and as soon as he caught sight of you, he rolled his eyes dramatically, as if to say not you again. Your stomach twisted slightly, but you decided to ignore him, focusing instead on your camera.

After finishing your meal, you grabbed your camera and stepped outside, eager to immerse yourself in the beauty of Jeju. The streets were alive with colour, and you began to capture the scenes around you—lush greenery, quaint shops, and the stunning coastline.

You wandered through the local market, snapping photos of the bustling vendors and their vibrant displays of fresh produce and handmade goods. Your heart lifted with each click of the shutter, the camera becoming an extension of your desire to find joy in the small things.

As you moved deeper into the market, you caught sight of him again. He was at a stall, inspecting some fruit. You took a deep breath, reminding yourself that you didn’t need to let his presence affect your mood. Instead, you focused on capturing the essence of the market, the lively interactions, and the warmth of the people around you.

But the moment you turned your camera towards the stall he was at, he noticed you. You could see his annoyance as he shot you an incredulous look, clearly irritated that you were taking pictures in the same space. He waved his hand dismissively as if trying to shoo you away.

This time, you couldn’t help but smirk. You weren’t about to let his irritation spoil your experience. You continued to film, zooming in on the vibrant colors and lively atmosphere, reveling in your newfound freedom.

You decided to embrace the moment, letting the world around you inspire you rather than letting him dampen your spirits. It was a new day, and you were determined to make the most of it—no matter who else was in the frame.

--

With the sun beginning to set, casting a warm golden hue over Jeju, you decided to call it a day. You returned to your hotel room, feeling a sense of fulfilment from capturing the beauty of the island. As you entered the room, the familiar buzz of your phone interrupted your thoughts. It was your mom calling.

“Y/N! Where have you been? You need to come back home!” she scolded, her voice a mix of worry and frustration.

You close your shut eyes for a moment, wishing the situation was just a dream.

“Mom, I’m on vacation. I told you I needed some time away,” you replied, trying to keep your tone steady.

“Time away? This isn’t just a vacation! You’re running from your responsibilities! You think it’s okay to just leave everything behind?” Her words felt like a punch to the gut.

“I’m not running away. I just need a break to think,” you protested, your frustration bubbling over. “I can’t deal with everything right now.”

“You think you can just ignore your responsibilities? Your brother needs support, and you should be helping your family, not gallivanting around Jeju!” she snapped.

You clenched your fists, tears filling up your eyes resulting to you trying to suppress the anger rising within you as you ended the call. Everything felt like a mess now, and you didn’t need any additions to that. You began to look around your room, searching for an escape. Your eyes landed on the dark sea beyond the balcony, and an idea quietly surfaced. Grabbing your film camera, you decided to take a walk along the beach.

You wanted to cry; you needed to cry.

You began to look around your room, searching for an escape. Your eyes landed on the dark sea beyond the balcony, and an idea quietly surfaced. Grabbing your film camera, you decided to take a walk along the beach.

You gazed out at the vast, dark sea, wishing your life could be as calm as the ocean before you. With each soft crash, you felt your sadness slowly wash away, like footprints disappearing under the water. For a good ten minutes, you stood there, breathing deeply, letting the steady hum of the sea drown out the noise in your mind.

When you finally opened your eyes, the world felt lighter, your heart less heavy. You wiped away the last tears, determined to hide any evidence of your pain. With your camera ready, you prepared to capture this peaceful moment you wanted to hold onto.

But just as you were about to take the shot, you spotted him—the man you had bumped into earlier. You sighed, thinking, of all the places. You weren’t in the mood for another encounter.

“I knew it, you were one of them,” he said.

You tried to ignore him; you had no energy to argue.

“I’m calling the cops on you.”

“Great,” you replied, sarcasm lacing your voice.

--

“She’s a sasaeng,” the man stated, crossing his arms. “She keeps following me around, and I want to file a report.”

You felt a wave of disbelief wash over you. You both found yourselves at the police station, the atmosphere tense and awkward. He stood confidently at the desk, explaining his version of events to the officer, who listened with a raised eyebrow.

“I don’t even know you or your name. Sir, this is ridiculous,” you said.

The officer glanced between the two of you, clearly intrigued by the unfolding drama. But it was hard to believe you didn’t know him; you seemed genuine yet utterly uninterested in Jaehyun, a very famous idol.

“So, you’re saying you don’t know him?”

“Yes! I only bumped into him a few times. How does that make me a stalker?”

Jaehyun rolled his eyes. “Why are you so defensive? You’re the one who keeps showing up wherever I am.”

“I’ll just remind you that we’re on a small island,” you shot back, but the officer interrupted.

“Okay, let’s settle down. Ma’am, can you provide your name and occupation?”

You opened your mouth, ready to say, “I’m a accountant at—” but then it hit you like a cold wave. You weren’t your job anymore; you had been suspended from your job. The reality of your situation dawned on you, and suddenly, you felt lost.

You froze in the moment, a flood of emotions swirling inside you. Who were you without your job? Had you become so immersed in your work that your identity was tied solely to it? Did you even know what you liked or disliked anymore?

With a heavy heart, you looked up at the officer, and instead of your title, you simply stated,

“Just write Y/N, unemployed.”

Jaehyun raised an eyebrow, and for the first time, his irritation seemed to fade slightly. Maybe you weren’t really a stalker; you were just here for peace of mind like he was.

You took a deep breath, trying to steady yourself to explain your side, but a part of you couldn’t shake the feeling that you were no longer the person you once claimed to be.

The incident ended with the officer clarifying that you were not a stalker, emphasizing that it was simply a misunderstanding. Jaehyun also acknowledged that you genuinely didn’t know who he was.

Ultimately, the officer concluded that both of you should avoid each other to prevent any further distress.

As you both stepped away from the desk, the tension began to dissipate. Outside, the cold evening air brushed against your skin, and an unexpected silence hung between you for a brief moment.

“I didn’t mean to cause any trouble,” Jaehyun said, his tone more conciliatory now. “It’s just… it’s hard to escape from all this sometimes.”

“Tell me about it,” you replied, letting your guard down for the first time.

He exhaled, rubbing his neck. “Look, I’m sorry. My group’s been through a lot, and trusting strangers doesn’t come easy anymore.”

A hesitant smile tugged at your lips. “Your group… NCT?”

His expression softened, pride flickering in his eyes. “Yeah, that’s us.”

You nodded, your gaze lingering. “I get it. Caution makes sense.”

His eyes stayed on you, gentler now as the cool night wind tousled your hair, and for a quiet, heart-stopping moment, he just looked at you.

“I’m sorry, too,” you murmured.

A small smile broke across his face. “No hard feelings.”

--

The night air was calm, and without another word, you fell into step beside each other, walking back toward the hotel. The silence was surprisingly comfortable, but you couldn't help to calm down your emotions.

Somewhere in the ease, you felt tears gather in your eyes and Jaehyun was quick to sense it as you turned your head towards the sea to avoid him.

“So…” Jaehyun began, hoping to distract you. “What brings you here, then? To Jeju?”

Quickly, you brushed away the tears on your cheek and looked up at him.

“Just… a short escape,” you murmured, your voice soft and unsteady. “Work, life… everything started feeling like too much.” He listened intently, his gaze steady, as if inviting you to say more.

“I felt like I was drowning. Coming here was supposed to be my chance to breathe again. And then… well, then you happened,” you added with a faint, self-conscious smile.

A warm chuckle escaped him as he rubbed the back of his neck. “Guess I ruined that, didn’t I?”

“Maybe just a little,” you teased, your smile widening as you caught his gaze. “But I suppose I can forgive you. I must have ruined yours too.”

He shrugged, a playful glint in his eyes. “It’s alright. A night walk by the ocean seems like a pretty good way to make it up.”

You both smiled, the soft night air carrying a quiet understanding between you. A gentle breeze swept over, and he looked up at the stars, his hands in his pockets.

“You know… after so long being on stage and in front of crowds, it’s strange to be away from it all. I don’t think I’ve ever really had a chance to just… breathe. I thought I wanted this break, but now…” His voice drifted off, hesitant, as though he feared where his words might lead.

“But now?” you asked softly, inviting him to continue.

He looked at you, a vulnerability in his gaze you hadn’t seen before. “Now, I’m not even sure who I am without all of that.”

His words hung in the quiet night, and in that moment, you saw Jaehyun not as an idol but as someone searching, just like you. And suddenly, it struck you—you weren’t alone in your own struggles.

“Maybe that’s okay. Life is about figuring it out the next day-”

“After all, this is our first time living.”

His gaze softened as if the simple gesture meant more than either of you were prepared to admit. By the time you reached the hotel, the conversation had lulled into a quiet, companionable silence.

You both moved towards the elevator, standing side by side in silence. As the doors slid open, Jaehyun stepped in first, holding the door for you.

“Thanks,” you murmured, taking a step inside.

After pressing your respective floors, the elevator hummed softly as it ascended. Jaehyun glanced over at you, but you seemed lost in thought.

“Look, about earlier...” he started, unsure of how to continue, but you interrupted.

“I don’t want to make this a big deal. Let’s just keep our distance and enjoy our vacations.”

“Sure,” he replied, a bit reluctantly.

As the elevator came to a stop, the doors opened, and you stepped out, leaving a lingering tension in the air as you both went your separate ways, still unsure of what this unexpected connection meant moving forward.

--

The next morning, Jaehyun strolled down to the hotel dining area for breakfast, feeling a mix of anticipation and apprehension. As he scanned the room, he spotted you at a table in the corner, engrossed in your iPad. You seemed to be in your own world, occasionally glancing up as if lost in thought.

He hesitated for a moment, debating whether to approach you or not. Just then, you looked up and caught his gaze. A flicker of recognition crossed your face, and for a brief moment, it looked like he was about to smile. But then, you quickly stood up, gathering your things.

“Hey, it’s okay. I was just about to leave,” you said, attempting to keep your tone light.

There was an edge of awkwardness in your voice. You didn't want to impose on his space, especially after the previous night's tension.

“Wait, you don’t have to go,” he said, his words felt like they were lost in the air. Jaehyun’s heart sank as he watched you stand up.

"It's okay, I was finished anyway"

“Really, it’s fine,” he insisted, trying to sound convincing, but the sincerity in his voice didn’t seem to reach you.

As you walked away, Jaehyun’s quiet presence lingered in your mind as you stepped away, clutching your phone. Every ring from Mr Han felt like a reminder of all you’d been trying to escape from, of the life you’d left behind for a few days in search of peace. You quickly find a quiet corner where you can take the call.

“Mr. Han, I—” you started, trying to find the right words, but the frustration in your former boss’s voice cut through the line.

“Y/N, you really need to get back to me. The client is waiting!”

Heat rose in your cheeks as you tried to stay calm. “I understand, but I’m not in a position to help right now as I—” The anxiety surged, your breath growing shallow.

You couldn’t finish your sentence. Gripping the wall beside you for support, you closed your eyes, your breathing ragged as you struggled to keep yourself steady. Feeling you could drown from your cold sweats. With shaking hands, you ended the call, unable to continue.

The pressure of everything—the job you’d left, the life you’d momentarily escaped—felt like a weight pressing down. You barely noticed when you turned, and there he was, standing close, his gaze soft and filled with worry.

“Y/N?” Jaehyun’s voice was a quiet thread of concern woven into each syllable. “Are you alright?”

You let out a shaky breath, feeling the weight of everything crash down on you. The distance between you and Jaehyun felt insurmountable, but the urge to lean on him was overwhelming.

“Yes… I’m okay. I’m just trying to find balance,” you said, your voice trembling.

“Y/N, you need more than that,” he insisted.

He guided you to a nearby bench, the quiet warmth of his hand on your shoulder grounding you.

“You don’t have to explain if you don’t want to,” he said softly. “Just… breathe. Let’s sit for a minute".

For a moment, you just sat there, grateful for his quiet support.

“Thank you, Jaehyun,” you murmured, overwhelmed by his kindness.

“I’m just doing what anyone would,” he said softly, studying your face. “Are you okay now? You know, it’s alright to take a break.”

“I wish it were that easy,” you admitted, the frustration heavy in your voice.

Before you could collect your thoughts, your phone buzzed again. Another message from Mr. Han. You glanced at Jaehyun, and he looked at you with sympathy, silently acknowledging the struggle you were facing.

“I don’t think you should answer that,” he said gently.

“It’s just work. I should deal with this,” you said reluctantly, the thought of the conversation ahead making your stomach twist.

Before you took the call, you glanced at Jaehyun, fear flickering in your eyes. He offered you a reassuring smile.

“I'll be here,” he said softly.

With a heavy heart, you stepped back, torn between the connection you craved and the unrelenting demands of your reality.

--

You both walked to a small café along the coast. The atmosphere was quiet and cozy, the gentle hum of soft music wrapping around you like a warm blanket. Jaehyun went to order for both of you, reminding you of the moment he suggested it when you slipped your phone back into your pocket.

“How about we grab some coffee?” he had said, his tone warm and inviting

When he returned to the table with two steaming cups, you took a moment to really look at him. How gentle and kind he was towards you softened your heart. How lucky he loved once to receive such affirmation. His fingers linger on yours as he passes you your drink.

"Thanks", you murmured.

The silences between you are like the soft pattern of rain outside. It was as if the calmness of the café had created a peaceful bubble that allowed both of you to just be. No words were needed, just the quiet company of each other and the warmth of your coffee. After a while, you took a deep breath and broke the silence.

"Jaehyun," you started, your voice soft, your eyes still trained on the rain outside. "I’m sorry. I'm sorry about last night, about this morning-"

He looked at you, but you couldn’t meet his gaze just yet.

"I didn’t mean to cause a scene or make things uncomfortable. I'm just... not handling things well. I was so overwhelmed."

Jaehyun’s brow furrowed slightly, but he remained quiet, waiting for you to continue.

"I guess what I’m trying to say is," you hesitated, finally turning to face him, "I want to repay you for stepping in, for making sure I was okay. You didn’t have to, but you did, and I really appreciate it."

You gestured toward your plate. "So, I’m paying for this. Consider it my way of saying thank you."

"You don’t have to repay me, Y/N. I just wanted to make sure you were alright."

"But I want to," you insisted, your eyes practically pleading. "Let me do this, okay?"

Jaehyun chuckled softly, holding your gaze. "Alright, I won’t argue with free coffee."

Relief washed over you as a smile finally tugged at your lips, and he smiled back, the warmth in his eyes making everything feel lighter, easier.

"Finally," he thought to himself, glad to see your walls slowly coming down.

You and Jaehyun stepped outside the café, and the fresh scent of rain on the pavement lingered in the air. As you linger on the ambience Jaehyun notices you taking out his film camera, but you seem hesitant as you try to switch on the camera.

Jaehyun, noticing your uncertainty, tilted his head with a curious smile. "Need some help with that?"

"Yeah, I’m still getting the hang of it. Do you…?"

Without a word, he stepped closer, gently taking the camera from his hands.

"Here, I’ll show you," he said.

His fingers brushed against yours as you adjusted the settings, and you couldn’t help but feel a small flutter in your chest.

You bring the camera up to eye level as you point it toward a bright red umbrella left forgotten near the edge of a shop.

"How about something that stands out but blends in with the mood of the scene? Like that umbrella there,"

You handed the camera back to you, guiding your hands to the right angle as he stood close behind you. His presence was calming but you couldn't help feeling a tangled in your stomach.

"Focus on that,"

You took a deep breath, following his advice, and snapped the shot. The sound of the shutter felt satisfying, and as you glanced down at the preview, a small sense of accomplishment swelled in you.

"Perfect, you’ve got a good eye for this."

"You should seen my mentor," you teased, your smile widening.

He grinned, stepping back slightly, his eyes lingering on you for a moment before he turned back toward the rainy street.

"Want to take a few more? There’s plenty of stories out here, especially in the rain."

For the rest of the afternoon, the two of you wandered the quiet streets of Jeju, capturing fleeting moments—a woman pulling her scarf tighter against the breeze, raindrops collecting on a parked bicycle, and an old couple sharing an umbrella. Each moment shared between you and Jaehyun felt easy, and natural, like the rhythm of the rain.

--

You both held ice cream cones as you settled on a bench near the shore. The sun peeked through the clouds, casting a soft glow as you savored each delicious bite. Just as you took another lick of your ice cream, the clouds grew dark, and drops of rain began to fall.

“Jaehyun, we need to run!” you exclaimed cheerfully, quickly covering your ice cream with your hands.

In a rush, you both sprinted to a nearby market, trying your best to stay shaded under the roof outside. You could feel his laughter vibrating in the air as you both struggled to keep your ice cream cones from getting drenched.

As you continued to finish your ice cream, savoring the sweet flavor, you turned your gaze back to the shoreline. The ocean's sound was soothing and calming despite the downpour, creating a scene that felt straight out of a movie. Just then, you stole a glance at Jaehyun.

His laughter was infectious, and the way he scrunched up his nose while trying to protect his treat made your heart flutter. It felt like you were falling into a deeper ocean, one filled with warmth and joy.

You pulled out your camera to capture the moment. The raindrops danced on the surface of the water, creating a mesmerizing pattern.

"Just for the memories," you thought.

Jaehyun turned to you, curiosity shining in his eyes. “So, do you take pictures as a hobby or professionally?” he asked.

“Just a hobby, actually. I don't recall having any photogenic pictures in my album,” you replied, chuckling at the thought. "I just take what makes me happy,"

"But we just spent the day capturing random moments. Regardless, they're still really beautiful to me," he defended, his gaze sincere.

"Well, it was fun for me," you said, your smile widening.

Jaehyun's expression softened, and a bright smile spread across his face, illuminating his features even in the dim light of the rainy day. There was something disarming about the way he smiled, as if the world around you faded into the background, leaving just the two of you in your own little bubble.

His enthusiasm was infectious, and you couldn't help but feel a thrill at the thought of more days like this. For the first time in so long, you found yourself eagerly waiting for the next day. The rain continued to fall around you, but it only added to the magic of the moment, making everything feel fresh and alive.

"Do you think we'll ever meet again? Somewhere not here?" you asked, a hint of vulnerability creeping into your voice.

Jaehyun’s expression shifted, becoming more serious as he stared deeply into the rain.

“I hope so,” he said slowly, turning to face you. “I really wish we could get closer, even after this vacation is over," his gaze unwavering.

His sincerity wrapped around you like a warm embrace, and for a moment, the world outside the small market felt like a distant echo. You could see the longing in his eyes, a reflection of your own feelings. The connection you’d formed felt too precious to let slip away, despite the uncertainty of what lay ahead.

“I would like that too,” you admitted, your heart pounding in your chest.

--

As the days passed, your time together seemed to fly by, each moment filled with laughter and shared secrets. But all too soon, the end of your vacation arrived, and the reality of parting ways settled heavily in the air.

You found yourself standing outside the hotel, your suitcase at your feet, the familiar buzz of the bustling streets around you fading into a dull roar. Jaehyun stood a few feet away, his hands stuffed deep into his pockets, a contemplative expression clouding his features.

“Guess this is it, huh?” he said, attempting to sound light-hearted, but the weight of the moment hung heavily between you.

“Yeah, it feels surreal,” you replied, forcing a smile despite the tightness in your chest.

You had hoped that this moment wouldn’t come, that time would stretch on indefinitely, allowing you to hold on to the connection you had formed. He took a step closer, his eyes searching yours.

“I really enjoyed our time together. It was… different, in a good way. It was nice to be around someone who didn’t see me just as Jaehyun from NCT. You reminded me of what it’s like to just be… myself.””

You nodded, feeling a bittersweet tug at your heart. “I’m glad I met you. And, I’ll always remember this time.”

A silence enveloped you both, filled only by the distant sounds of laughter and traffic. As the moments stretched, you couldn’t help but feel a void beginning to form in your heart. It was a feeling you hadn’t anticipated, one that blossomed from the realization that you had fallen for him during this brief interlude in your lives.

Jaehyun shifted, his gaze dropping to the ground before meeting your eyes again. “Come see me at my concert sometime, let's meet again,” he said, his tone hopeful.

The offer hung in the air between you—simple, yet charged with unspoken meaning. You hesitated, caught between the desire to say yes and the reality of the busy life waiting for you back home.

“I’ll think about it,”

You both lingered in the moment, neither wanting to be the first to say goodbye. Eventually, Jaehyun glanced at his phone, a reminder of his own responsibilities tugging him back.

“Take care of yourself, Y/N,” he said, his voice gentle yet firm, as if he genuinely wanted you to find peace.

“You too, Jaehyun. Don’t lose yourself in all of it,” feeling a surge of protectiveness for him.

With a final smile, you watched as he disappeared into the bustling crowd, your chest heavy yet filled with a strange sense of hope. As you made your way to the airport, you found yourself holding on to the memories of Jeju—of sunlit days, stolen glances, and quiet conversations.

Back in your own world, things quickly resumed their usual pace. Work piled up, Mr. Han’s demands didn’t ease, and the familiar pressures of life weighed on your shoulders. But every so often, you’d catch yourself replaying moments from Jeju: Jaehyun’s smile, the way his laughter echoed along the shore, the quiet understanding that had passed between you.

--

"Ah, that was a super long meeting," you sighed, leaning back in your chair and closing your eyes.

"Tell me about it," Aeri replied from her desk, looking equally drained.

Just then, the secretary approached you, holding a note in her hand. "Y/N, someone left a message asking you to call them back."

You glanced up, confused, and exchanged a quick look with Aeri, hoping for some clue. But she looked just as surprised. Hesitantly, you dialled the number, feeling a surge of anxiety as the call connected.

"Hello?"

"Yes, is this Y/N?"

"Yes, this is Y/N speaking. Can I help you?"

"I'm a staff member from SM Entertainment. Jaehyun requested a direct invitation for you to his concert…" Your heart dropped, and every word became a blur after hearing Jaehyun’s name.

You quickly looked at the calendar. Had it really been months since your trip to Jeju? The staff member kindly repeated the message, explaining that Jaehyun had arranged a ticket and backstage pass for you.

"I'm... sorry, but could I get back to you on this?" you asked, still trying to process the unexpected invitation.

"Of course," they replied. "We'll leave your name on the VIP list. If you decide to come, just let the staff know at the VIP section."

You hung up, your mind racing. You never imagined Jaehyun would follow through on his promise, let alone make it so personal. As you stared at your phone, you couldn’t help but wonder if you were ready to step back into that world—or if you even wanted to.

That evening, you had dinner with Aeri, who was as cheerful and lighthearted as always. Watching her laugh, you couldn’t bring yourself to share your concerns about Jaehyun. Somehow, her happiness felt too precious to disturb. After a moment, you decided to break the silence.

"Hey, Aeri," you began, trying to keep your voice casual. "Do you know NCT?"

"Of course, who doesn’t!" she laughed, and you could feel your nerves creeping up. But then, she added with a casual shrug, "Besides, my boyfriend’s from that group."

Your jaw dropped. "Your boyfriend is an idol?!"

She quickly shushed you, almost flipping over the table to keep you from speaking too loudly. Glancing around the restaurant, she sighed and whispered, "Yes. I didn’t mean to hide it, or that I don’t trust you. It’s just... you know, we’re kind of friends from work, and I didn't want things to get complicated."

You smiled, absorbing the surprise. Somehow, knowing she understood the complexities of dating someone in the public eye made you feel a bit less alone in your own tangled thoughts about Jaehyun’s invitation.

As the days crept closer to the concert, you continued to hold it all in, the uncertainty gnawing at you. On the evening before, you finally took a deep breath and decided to invite Aeri along. You figured her presence might ease the nerves and make it all feel a bit more normal.

"Aeri," you said, and she responded with a distracted "Hm?" without lifting her gaze from her work, so you decided to keep it short.

"I, uh... I got an invite to the NCT concert. Would you want to come with me?"

Aeri’s eyes widened in surprise and excitement, her fingers pausing on the keyboard. "Are you serious? Of course! How did you even score an invite like that?"

“Just… something that came up, you know?” you shrugged, keeping it vague.

“It’s going to be amazing! I can’t believe we’re actually going to see them perform live!”

Her enthusiasm brought a smile to your face, and, for a moment, the tension in your chest eased. With Aeri beside you, maybe facing Jaehyun again wouldn’t feel so daunting after all.

--

The night of the concert arrived, and as you stood outside the venue with Aeri, you could feel your heart racing. The bustling crowd, glowing lights, and excited chatter filled the air with an electric energy. Aeri, practically buzzing beside you, squeezed your arm as you both made your way to the VIP entrance. Her excitement was contagious, and you felt a flicker of it yourself, though nerves twisted in your stomach as you thought of the reason behind your invitation.

Inside, the venue felt even more surreal. The rows of seats stretched out like a sea, and the stage glowed with anticipation as fans filled the room. Your VIP passes led you closer than you’d imagined, right near the front, and as you settled in, you felt Aeri’s hand in yours.

“Can you believe we’re this close?” she whispered, her eyes gleaming. “We’re about to see them, live!”

The lights dimmed, and a hush fell over the crowd, followed by a collective gasp as the stage illuminated, and NCT appeared. The opening beats hit, and the whole arena seemed to come alive as the members took their places, Jaehyun among them. Your eyes drifted to him, a mix of emotions stirring as he sang, danced, and commanded the stage effortlessly. In that moment, he looked entirely different from the man you’d spent time with on Jeju—a star in every sense.

Aeri was in her element, cheering along with the crowd, and you found yourself swept up in her excitement. The concert unfolded like a dream, each song weaving between moments of high energy and softer ballads that made the arena feel intimate. As you watched Jaehyun move across the stage, your mind flickered back to all the memories you’d shared, and a pang of nostalgia washed over you.

“Isn’t this amazing?” Aeri exclaimed during a brief interlude, her face glowing. You nodded, forcing a smile, but your heart was conflicted. This night was as exhilarating as it was overwhelming, and as Jaehyun’s gaze swept over the audience, you wondered if he’d see you and recognize you in the crowd.

The concert came to a close with an eruption of applause and cheers, the room filled with the lingering energy of excitement. As the lights brightened, Aeri was practically bouncing beside you, her excitement escalating as you both made your way to the backstage entrance.

In the waiting room, NCT members were casually chatting after the high-energy performance. When you and Aeri entered, they greeted you warmly, and Aeri, in particular, seemed over the moon. She introduced herself and excitedly complimented the members, her enthusiasm making them all laugh.

“Hey! Thanks for coming!”, Taeyong greeted.

“Hi, thank you for having us,” you responded, a little overwhelmed by how down-to-earth they were despite their star status.

They were friendly and approachable, making small talk that felt genuine rather than forced. Then, you saw him—Jaehyun, standing at the far end of the room. He hadn’t noticed you at first, busy talking with another member, but when he turned and saw you, his expression softened instantly. His eyes met yours, and he broke into that familiar smile that had haunted your thoughts since Jeju.

“You actually came,” he said, his voice tinged with a hint of disbelief and relief.

“I didn’t think I would, honestly. But here I am”, feeling your nerves flutter. “Thanks for inviting me. It’s… surreal seeing you here.”

“I’m glad you came. Really,” Jaehyun replied, his voice sincere.

“We’re actually heading to an after-party at a club nearby. You both should come! It’ll be fun!”

Aeri’s eyes lit up with enthusiasm. “Oh my gosh, we have to go! It sounds amazing!”

You felt a wave of hesitation wash over you. The idea of a club after the concert seemed exhilarating yet overwhelming.

“I’m not sure,” you said, glancing at Jaehyun, who was watching you with a hopeful expression.

Jaehyun stepped closer, his demeanour reassuring. “You’ll be with us. It’ll be a good time, I promise. Just think of it as a celebration.”

You sighed, weighing the pros and cons. The thought of missing out on an opportunity to bond with Jaehyun and Aeri made your heart sink, but the thought of the club’s atmosphere sent your anxiety into overdrive. Finally, you agree relented.

The moment you stepped inside, a wave of culture shock hit you. The atmosphere was electric, pulsating with music and vibrant lights. It was everything you had imagined but somehow more overwhelming.

"Come, stay close to me", Jaehyun grabbing your hand.

You were glad for a moment, but as all of you made it to the couch women were swooning over Jaehyun. You felt a pang of discomfort watching the attention he received; it was overwhelming for you. You kept close to Aeri, who was revelling in the excitement.

“Look at them! They’re totally obsessed!” she laughed, pointing out the fans who crowded around Jaehyun, capturing every moment on their phones.

Jaehyun, on the other hand, seemed completely unfazed by the attention. He mingled with ease, laughing and chatting while he would glance over at you occasionally.

You couldn’t help but feel lost. The club scene was so much different to your usual surroundings, and you were more aware than ever of the differences between your world and Jaehyun. As the night wore on, you tried to enjoy the night, but every laugh from the crowd felt like a reminder of your insecurities, and the joy you saw on Aeri’s face only made you feel more disconnected.

Jaehyun continued to glance your way, concern flickering across his features as he noticed your discomfort, but you couldn’t shake the feeling overwhelmed, you took a step back, needing a moment to breathe. The pulsating energy of the club felt too much, and you realized you weren’t really enjoying your time at all.

You glanced at Aeri, who was caught up in the moment, and your heart sank. You had hoped this would be a fun adventure, but instead, it was just a reminder of how far you felt from everything that was happening around you.

“Aeri, maybe we should head back? It’s getting pretty wild in here,” you suggested, trying to keep your voice steady amid the noise.

She shook her head, her eyes sparkling with excitement. “No way! This is amazing! Just leave me for a bit; I want to enjoy this!” Aeri grinned, clearly swept up in the atmosphere.

Frustrated, you scanned the room, searching for someone to help. Just when you were about to give up, you felt a familiar presence behind you. Jaehyun appeared concerned etched across his face as he noticed the distress in yours.

“What’s wrong?” he asked, his voice cutting through the chaos.

“I can't get Aeri to leave, I'm worried about her”

Without a second thought, Jaehyun nodded, taking charge.

“I’ll help. Let’s get her home,” he said decisively. With a reassuring grip, he took your hand, weaving through the throngs of people until you found Aeri, still lost in the music.

“Aeri, it’s time to go home,” he said gently, but there was an authority in his tone that she couldn’t ignore.

As the three of you made your way out of the club, Jaehyun kept a protective arm around you, making sure you felt safe amidst the chaos. Outside, the cool night air hit your skin, a refreshing change from the stifling atmosphere inside.

“Don’t worry, I’ll make sure she gets home safely,” Jaehyun reassured you, pulling out his phone to arrange a ride for Aeri.

His attention to detail and care made your heart swell a little, reminding you how he was to you at Jeju. Once the ride was confirmed, he turned to you, concern still lingering in his gaze.

“Are you okay?”, he asked.

You nodded, feeling grateful for his support.

“Thanks for stepping in,” you said softly.

With Aeri safely in the car and waving goodbye, you turned to Jaehyun, feeling the weight of the night lift slightly.

“I’m sorry for dragging you into this mess,” you said, a hint of embarrassment creeping in.

“Hey, it’s not a mess if I’m here. Let’s get you home too, alright?”, he replied, his tone light but sincere.

As you both walked to his car, you felt a flicker of connection rekindling between you. Even in the chaos, there was a comfort in knowing he had your back, and for the first time that night, you felt a sense of calm wash over you.

“So, did you have fun at the club?” he asked, glancing at you with a hint of curiosity.

You paused, considering your response. “Honestly, I prefer to sit back and enjoy quiet moments,” you admitted.

Jaehyun looked surprised but intrigued. “Really? You didn’t enjoy the excitement?”

“It felt overwhelming. I like to unwind in my own way,”

He nodded, contemplating your words. “I get that. But I just thought it would be nice to share that experience with you.”

“I appreciate that,” you said softly, your heart fluttering at the thought of him wanting to include you. “I just… prefer quieter settings.”

“Maybe I can find a balance for both of us,” he suggested with a grin. “How about I invite you to a few more gatherings? Just to see if we can make it work.”

You felt a wave of anxiety wash over you, but you reminded yourself that it couldn’t hurt to try.

"Yeah, sure"

--

Over the next few weeks, you and Aeri joined Jaehyun and his friends on special occasions at the club. The flashing lights, pulsing music, and the lively atmosphere brought a new kind of excitement to your evenings. You enjoyed the laughter, the freedom to dance, and the chance to see Jaehyun in his element. But slowly, the late nights and the constant energy began to wear on you. You felt your enthusiasm dimming with each outing.

Still, every night, when the evening wound down and people started heading home, Jaehyun was there. He would walk you to his car, his hand lightly brushing against your back in a steady, comforting gesture. He’d ask if you were alright, his gaze full of quiet concern, and he’d listen when you tried to explain the small things that felt out of sync. Yet, even with his steady presence, you couldn’t shake the weariness that came from trying to belong in a world that didn’t feel like yours.

One night, as he was driving you home after yet another club outing, you found yourself staring out the window, watching the empty streets rush by. Jaehyun glanced over, sensing your silence.

“You seem… tired,” he said gently, breaking the quiet.

You sighed, nodding. “I am. It’s fun to go out and be with everyone, but… I don’t think this is really me.”

"You don’t have to keep coming just for me, you know,” he said. “I want you to feel comfortable.”

"I know, I really do. I just starting to think if we have another connection rather than these events,"

"Y/N, of course we do. Jeju was everything to me", he firmly defended.

The silence that fell between you both was thick, filled with unspoken words and questions. You stared out the window, your heart aching with the uncertainty, the shared nights that only left you feeling more adrift.

Jaehyun seemed to sense the tension too. Instead of pressing further, he let out a soft sigh and suddenly steered the car toward a small convenience store that glowed against the quiet street.

“Come on,” he said, parking and unbuckling his seatbelt. “Let’s get some ice cream. My treat.”

You glanced over at him, a little surprised but grateful for the change of pace. “Ice cream at midnight? Are we back in Jeju?” you teased lightly, letting a small smile escape.

“Maybe,” he grinned, opening his door. “Or maybe it’s my way of slowing things down—taking us back to something simple.”

The two of you entered the store, the fluorescent lights casting a soft glow over the rows of snacks and drinks. Jaehyun led you to the freezer aisle, opening it with a mischievous glint in his eyes as he considered the options.

“You choose,” he said, stepping aside to let you take your pick.

After a brief moment of indecision, you reached for your favorite flavor, and Jaehyun grabbed one for himself. The store was empty save for the clerk, who gave you both a nod as you paid and made your way out.

Sitting on the table outside, you unwrapped your ice cream in comfortable silence, the cool night air brushing against your skin. The quiet felt soothing, like the ocean breeze back in Jeju.

Jaehyun glanced over before he spoke. “I know things have been… different. And I’m sorry if I didn’t see how you were feeling sooner.”

“It’s okay. I didn’t know how to bring it up,” you admitted, taking a small bite of ice cream.

He nodded, looking down thoughtfully. “I just thought… maybe you’d see a different side of me. That maybe we’d find new memories, even if they weren’t always perfect.”

“We did,” you said softly. “But I think I just wanted a side of you that felt a little closer. More like this.”

Jaehyun’s face softened, a small smile tugging at his lips.

“Let’s keep it simple, then. The way it should be.”

You nodded, feeling a warmth spread through you. And in that quiet moment under the stars, with only the hum of the city around you, you both found a new kind of connection that felt real, like the kind that would last even when the music faded.

--

"So, why don’t you take photos of people?" Jaehyun asked over dinner that evening.

He had invited you to his place, a rare occasion given both of your busy schedules—especially with him working on his solo album. These days, it felt like you hardly saw each other, but recently, he’d been reaching out more.

More than a friend would.

You flipped through the faded photos of Jeju scattered on the table, both of you reminiscing about the quiet beauty captured in each frame.

“Sometimes, the happiness we see in people is just a mask hiding what they’re really feeling,” you explained softly. “I thought I’d rather respect that.”

Jaehyun nodded thoughtfully, his gaze shifting back to you. “So, are you masking something now?” he asked, a playful glint in his eyes.

“Yes, yes I am,” you replied with a grin.

“Are you going to be honest and tell me?”

“Nope, I’m keeping you guessing.”

“Unbelievable,” he muttered, chuckling as he shook his head.

You looked at his vintage Polaroid camera, an idea forming.

“Alright, how about this?” you proposed. “Let’s take a picture of each other and exchange them. I’ll write my true feelings on your photo, and you’ll do the same on mine. But there’s one rule: we only give the photos back when we’re ready to reveal what we really feel. Deal?”

Jaehyun looked at you, captivated by the idea. He was so absorbed in your words that he took a moment to respond.

“Deal.”

You both took turns photographing each other, trying to hide your shyness by laughing and teasing. When it was Jaehyun’s turn to photograph you, he held up the Polaroid, his gaze warm and intent.

“Alright, turn a little to the left,” he instructed, his voice soft but focused. “Now, smile.”

You followed his direction, feeling a bit silly under his careful watch. The camera clicked, capturing the moment, but he didn’t lower it just yet.

“That’s perfect,” he murmured, a faint smile playing on his lips. “You look… beautiful.”

Your cheeks warmed at his compliment.

“Let me see!” you demanded with a playful grin as the photo developed.

When it was your turn to photograph him, Jaehyun relaxed into the moment, and you couldn’t resist teasing him a bit.

“Tilt your head just a bit,” you instructed. “Now, give me that serious look you do on stage.”

He smirked but complied, trying to keep his expression neutral, though the hint of a smile broke through. You clicked the shutter, capturing the side of him that felt both familiar and new. When the photos finished developing, you handed his picture back to him with a grin.

“Take a look at yours! Before it officially becomes mine,” you teased, your eyes gleaming with amusement. “You look really good. I’m lucky to have this picture.”

Jaehyun’s heart skipped a beat at your words, charmed by your cheerful excitement. He couldn’t help but find you adorable.

You each wrote down your true feelings on the photos, not knowing what the other had written. You both tucked the photos away, holding onto them as though they held something precious.

--

As you step out of the office building, your phone rings. Jaehyun’s name appears on the screen, and despite your exhaustion, a smile lights up your face.

“Hello, Jaehyun.”

“Hey, Y/N. Where are you now?”

“I just finished work—”

“I have something to tell you, and I wanted you to be the first to know,” he interrupts, his tone urgent. You freeze at the sudden seriousness, sensing that something might be wrong.

“Okay… go ahead. I’m listening.”

You can almost picture him on the other end, catching his breath, trying to steady himself before speaking.

“There’s this producer—someone really skilled, who could be a huge help for my new music project. He’s interested in working with me,” Jaehyun says, his excitement barely contained.

“But?” you prompt, sensing there’s more.

“But the catch is… he’s only available tonight, and he wants to meet at a club.”

You feel a twinge of discomfort. In your mind, nothing good ever seems to come from such meetings, but you remind yourself that this is Jaehyun’s career. You’re not fully familiar with the music industry, so you want to hear him out before passing any judgment.

“I wanted you to be the first to know. And… to make sure you’re okay with it,” he adds softly. “I don’t want to do something you wouldn’t like.”

You pause, giving his words careful thought. Of course, you want Jaehyun to succeed and have every opportunity he deserves. But the idea of him going to a club, especially for a meeting, doesn’t sit well with you. Yet, you don’t want to be the one to hold him back.

“Jaehyun, I’m probably the last person you should be asking for… permission. I don’t know enough about your industry to judge.”

“I know,” he replies quickly. “But I just really wanted to share this with you. It means a lot to me.” There’s a vulnerability in his voice that tugs at your heart. “Come with me?”

“No,” you say gently. “This is something you need to handle on your own. I don’t want to be a distraction.”

“You’re never a distraction, Y/N,” he insists. Then, after a pause, he adds, “I’ve heard… things about this producer. That he has a reputation in clubs, especially with… girls. So, please, come with me. I don’t want any misunderstandings between us.”

You sigh, the weight of his request settling over you, knowing he wants you there as his anchor, as the one he trusts most.

After a pause, you finally agree to go with him. Jaehyun breathes a sigh of relief, thanking you over and over. Before you know it, he’s already arranging a driver to pick you up, wanting to make things as easy as possible.

When you arrive at the club, the noise, the flashing lights, and the press of bodies instantly overwhelm you. The crowd is thick, and you feel almost invisible as you enter. To everyone here, you’re just another face in the crowd, a nobody. Your eyes immediately scan the room until they land on Jaehyun, not far from where you are, deep in conversation with the producer.

Not wanting to intrude on his discussion, you make your way to the bar, ordering a drink, hoping it will settle your nerves. As you wait, you can’t help but overhear a few girls nearby, chatting animatedly about Jaehyun. You glance over, noticing their eyes are all trained on him.

“That’s Jaehyun, right? The one talking to the boss?” one of them says, her voice full of admiration.

“Yeah. He’s even more handsome in person,” another girl adds, twirling her hair. “And now that he’s connected? Total package.”

A sinking feeling settles in your chest as you realize these girls are part of the producer’s entourage—or perhaps for his amusement. Their conversation softens as they discuss “getting called in” to meet Jaehyun, clearly viewing him as the next big opportunity.

It doesn’t sit well with you, the way they’re admiring him only because of his rising reputation. They don’t see the Jaehyun you know—the one who spends late nights perfecting lyrics, who pours his heart into every melody. To them, he’s just the latest shiny thing, a stepping stone for their own ambitions.

For a moment, you feel an urge to step in, to somehow defend him, to tell them he’s worth so much more than shallow admiration. But you take a deep breath, reminding yourself that you’re here for him, not to let your insecurities get the best of you.

Finishing his conversation with the producer, Jaehyun glances around and his eyes light up when he spots you. His face breaks into a warm smile that melts away any remaining doubt you had about being here.

“Hey,” he says, his voice soft but full of warmth. “Thanks for coming. Really. It means a lot.”

“Of course,” you reply, smiling back at him. “I’m here for you.”

You both linger in a shared silence, the pounding music and chaos of the club fading into the background as you lock eyes. In this moment, it feels like you’re the only two people in the room.

“So, how did it go?” you finally ask, breaking the silence.

“I think it went well,” he says, unable to hide the pride in his smile. “But I don’t want to get ahead of myself.”

“A little confidence never hurt anyone,” you tease lightly.

Jaehyun laughs, rubbing the back of his neck.

“Maybe. Having you here makes everything better, like… I’m doing something right.”

Your heart felt like it had taken a hit, an arrow striking somewhere deep. You wanted to tell Jaehyun that the whole scene felt wrong from the start, that it made you uneasy. But seeing him genuinely happy, glowing with the promise of new opportunities, softened the edge of your discomfort. Maybe, for him, it was worth it.

Just then, the group of girls who had been watching him earlier made their way over, flashing practiced smiles.

“Hey, Jaehyun, right? We work with the producer,” one of them said, her voice dripping with charm.

Without hesitation, they closed in around him, the leader of the group resting a hand lightly on his arm.

You took a step back, feeling like an outsider in a place you never wanted to be, as Jaehyun exchanged polite words with the girls. But soon, their interactions became more forward—laughter too loud, hands lingering on his shoulder, his back, brushing against him as if they couldn’t resist touching him.

More girls nearby started to notice, whispering excitedly, “Isn’t that Jaehyun? I heard he’s working with the producer now.”

Their voices were filled with admiration and a hungry curiosity—the kind that surfaced only when someone had something others wanted. Slowly, more of them drifted over, until Jaehyun was nearly surrounded, their hands reaching out as if he were some prize. One girl even handed him her phone, asking for his number under the pretense of “future projects.” Jaehyun, always polite, tried to decline without offending her, but the group was insistent, treating him like a trophy.

A knot tightened in your stomach. It hurt more than you wanted to admit, watching them admire him for all the wrong reasons. And he, standing at the center of it all, looked caught off guard but also resigned, as if he’d been here before—surrounded by people who only saw his status.

Watching this unfold tore at you, and before you knew it, you turned and started to walk away from the loud party. The instant Jaehyun noticed, his expression shifted to concern. He excused himself from the throng of girls and quickly made his way over to you.

"Y/N, wait!" he called, gently grabbing your wrist. "What’s wrong? Talk to me."

"Everything, Jaehyun," you replied, voice tight. "You’re at the center of it all, surrounded by people who only see you as a symbol of power and connections. It just feels… wrong."

Jaehyun furrowed his brows, clearly caught off guard.

"I didn’t ask for this, Y/N," he said defensively. "I’m not trying to play some 'manly' role. This is just work—I told you. These girls work with the producer. I can't just push them away."

“Well, if this is part of your work, then maybe you don’t need me around,” you replied, trying to walk away again, but he tightened his grip on your wrist.

“Y/N, you’re being unreasonable now,” he said, frustration seeping into his tone.

You looked up, eyes fierce. “Maybe I am, Jaehyun, but that’s the problem. Men like you get placed on a pedestal, while women who speak out—women like me—get labeled as ‘too much.’ You may not see it, but this whole scene reinforces everything I stand against.”

A flash of offense crossed his face.

“So what am I supposed to do? Stop living my life because you don’t agree with how it looks? I’m not doing anything wrong, Y/N.”

“But you’re not doing anything either,” you replied, disappointment clear in your voice. “I guess this is where we clash, Jaehyun. I can’t accept this part of your life.”

You lowered your gaze, your heart aching with the weight of leaving him, but deep down, you felt he wasn’t fighting for anything real. His voice shook as he processed your words.

“So what now? Are you ending this over something I didn’t even know was an issue?”

“I can’t pretend it doesn’t bother me—just like it bothered you when you thought I was intruding on your privacy.”

Jaehyun looked down, the weight of the situation crashing over him. He seemed crushed, the reality of losing you sinking in.

“Do you… hate me?” he asked softly, his voice laden with sadness.

You felt the ache in his words, but you both needed this moment of honesty.

“Jaehyun, I could never hate you,” you replied, tears brimming in your eyes. “And that’s why this matters so much to me. I’m sorry, Jaehyun, but I have to go.”

You pulled away, leaving him standing there, alone in the crowd, as you walked out into the night. Leaving Jaehyun standing alone in the cold night air. A part of you wished he’d have reached out, tried to hold onto you—but the reality was stark and unyielding. With each step, your tears fell harder, the painful truth settling in: he wasn’t the kind of person who would fight to keep you.

Walking away, you pulled out your phone and dialed Aeri’s number.

“Aeri? Can you pick me up? Please, I can’t stand this anymore,” you choked out, voice thick with emotion.

But as your steps slowed, the realization hit: no one was coming right away. You tried to locate a nearby bus stop or a taxi, but you were unfamiliar with the area, so used to going everywhere with Jaehyun by your side. The weight of it all settled on your shoulders, and just as you were about to lose hope, you accidentally collided with someone.

“I’m sorry,” you mumbled, bowing your head, trying to hide your tear-streaked face.

“Oh, aren’t you Y/N? Are you okay?” you looked up to find Jeno standing before you, a mixture of concern and surprise on his face.

“Are you—” you stammered, wiping your tears with the back of your hand. “Jeno?”

“Yeah, Aeri sent me to pick you up instead. She said you needed it,” he replied, glancing back toward the club before focusing on you again. “What happened?”

You let out a sigh, feeling the familiar knot tighten in your chest. “It’s complicated.”

Jeno’s brows knitted together, a genuine empathy in his expression. But sensing your reluctance, he didn’t press further.

“Come on, let’s get you out of here,” he offered softly. “You don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to. Aeri’s worried.”

Grateful for his calm presence, you nodded and followed him to his car, parked under the dim glow of the streetlights.

As he drove, Jeno glanced at you, his tone gentle but thoughtful. “If you need to talk about it… I know a bit about you and Jaehyun.”

You managed a small smile. “Aeri filled you in, huh?”

He nodded, smiling back. “Jaehyun can be… a lot sometimes.”

Looking out the window at the passing lights, you swallowed the lump in your throat. “We fought. Over something that just… doesn’t seem to matter to him.”

Jeno’s expression softened.

“If it matters to you, then it’s worth something. When someone’s in the spotlight like he is, sometimes it takes a while for them to understand the impact of their actions.” He looked at you, a steady reassurance in his eyes.

“Give it time. If he truly cares, he’ll come to see why it’s important to you. You deserve someone who’ll stand by what you believe in.”

“Thanks, Jeno,” you whispered, grateful for his steady support.

--

“Y/N, can you help me with this?” your colleague asked, passing over yet another project folder.

“Sure, just put it aside with the other folders,”

You barely look up as you tried to focus on the spreadsheet in front of you. Each day new assignment seemed to pile higher on your desk. Regardless, you still work like crazy to the point it seems like you wanted the pile of work.

Aeri hovered nearby, her expression laced with concern. “Are you… okay?” she asked gently.

“Yeah, I’m okay. Just getting things done before audit season.”

“That’s it, y/n. It’s not even the audit season yet, you should take it slow. You’ll be worn out before the audit season”

You just scoof her off, saying you’re not the type to get tired easily. But as she walked away, you felt the weight of it all pressing down. Taking a deep breath, you glanced at your phone, but the screen remained empty.

That night, you decided to take a break and invited Aeri over to your apartment for drinks. She arrived with her boyfriend, Jeno, who brought along a few snacks and his usual easygoing smile. The three of you settled around the living room, drinks in hand, with laughter filling the space as the night went on.

You’ve been trying to keep up with Aeri teasing Jeno and revealing funny stories from the office, sipping from your glass and smiling at the right moments, but your mind kept wandering off. At one point, Aeri gave you a knowing look.

“Hey, are you really okay?” she asked, nudging you.

“Yeah, just… you know, work’s been a lot lately. I’m probably just exhausted.”

“I told you, you would run out energy before the audit. You should be more gentle to yourself”,

You looked into the can of beer in your hand, it was empty. Somehow it reminded you how you’ve been feeling lately, despite the tons of work.

“I should have. I thought the load if work would fill up my mind, my time. But now, I don’t feel anything”,

Aeri and Jeno was suprised at your confession. You had always seem to have your life together, she wasn’t expecting you to rant out just like.

“Y/N”, Jeno unsure of how to address the situation. “Hm, are you— hm— drunk? Should we call it a night?”

You chuckled, how miserable you have been trying to maintain the image of indepent woman that now you were unsure do people that you seriously when your not mentally unstable.

“I must be a bit tipsy—“,

“Your waiting for him, aren’t you?”, Aeri interrupted, which took you by suprises. “I can tell by how happy you are with him”

Your eyes slowly turn into glass without you realising as Aeri continue.

“That now, when he left, he took it with him”,

You slowly look at her. Aeri had always been cheerful, lifting up the mood that she might seem immature sometimes. But in the moment, you realise that she must have been masking her pain.

Just like how all of us have been doing.

“Yes, and I’m missing him too much”.

Aeri slowly scotch closer to you, wrapping her arms around you.

“It’s okay, y/n. You don’t need to tough it out for now. There’s nothing wrong about it”, as she whisper to you while embracing you.

Her words cracked something inside you. A tear slid down your cheek before you could stop it. You finally let the tears flow, the concern and understanding in her words made realized she’d noticed everything you thought you’d hidden.

Aeri wraps her arms tighter around you. Just like you, she had her own struggles masked by smiles and laughter, and for the first time, you both let yourselves be vulnerable together, acknowledging the pain you’d all been carrying alone. Jeno placed a comforting hand on your shoulder, saying nothing, letting you both just be.

—

Unlike you, Jaehyun headed to the club that night, on his way to meet the producer to discuss new ideas for his songs. He had been working with the producer for a few weeks now, and while Jaehyun appreciated the producer's vision and creativity, he was growing impatient with the slow progress. It didn’t help that the producer seemed wrapped up in the nightlife scene, filling his evenings with club activities that left Jaehyun restless, wishing he could focus solely on the music instead.

Just like you, he was starting to feel worn out.

“Hey, Haeun,” Jaehyun greeted a woman who had approached him early on, soon after hearing he’d be collaborating with the producer.

She smiled back, a faint, knowing look in her eyes. After weeks of politely declining advances from the women who had initially surrounded him, the interest had mostly faded. One by one, they’d lost interest, sensing that Jaehyun wasn’t interested in mixing business with pleasure—or perhaps realizing his connection with the producer wasn’t as social as they’d hoped.

“Looking for the producer?” she asked casually.

“Yeah.” Jaehyun ordered a drink, taking a sip as he looked around. “Do you know where he is?”

“Oh, you know him,” she replied, sliding her hand subtly onto his lap. “He’s probably just handling some ‘work’ stuff. He’ll be here in a minute.”

Jaehyun resisted the urge to pull away, the casual touch a reminder of how he’d been drawn into this world—a place he never truly fit into. His mind drifted back to a different kind of night, quieter and far from the flashing lights and unfamiliar faces. And as much as he tried to forget.

His mind drifted to you.

Jaehyun gently removed Haeun's hand from his lap, hoping to diffuse the situation without causing a scene.

"Sorry, Haeun, but I’m just here to talk business." he said, keeping his voice calm,"

Her smile faltered, her expression twisting with embarrassment and irritation. She leaned closer, her voice dropping to a challenging tone.

“Oh, come on, Jaehyun,” she said, her tone laced with annoyance. “You’re really just here to work? Don’t act so above it all.”

When he didn’t respond, she moved in even closer, pressing herself against him as though determined to wear down his resistance. Jaehyun felt his patience thinning; he pushed her gently but firmly aside, realizing that his polite refusals weren’t going to get through to her.

“Look, Haeun,” he said, keeping his voice steady but his tone sharp, “I meant what I said. I’m not interested.”

The flash of anger in her eyes was unmistakable, her pride clearly bruised.

“You think you’re better than everyone here?” she sneered, her voice loud enough to draw a few curious glances from nearby. “Or are you just here to use the producer and then leave, like none of us matter?”

Jaehyun took a deep breath, steadying his frustration. He missed you—missed the clarity and grounding you brought, and for a split second, he felt the sting of how right you’d been about all of this.

“I’m here for my music,” he replied, his tone measured and cool. “If you don’t get that, it’s best you leave me alone.”

Without another glance, Jaehyun turned and made his way out of the club, distancing himself from her and the crowd. He could feel the weight of their stares trailing behind him, but he kept his gaze forward. The entire encounter had left him feeling hollow, revealing the shallow undercurrents he’d ignored for too long.

Outside, under the quiet stretch of the night sky, Jaehyun searched for solace in the calm after the chaos. He pulled out his phone, his thumb hesitating over your contact. He wanted to call you, to hear your voice and find comfort in the familiarity he’d pushed away. For a long moment, he debated it, the thought lingering like a lifeline in the silence.

But his pride held him back. He’d already felt it bruised enough tonight, and the painful reminder of the distance he’d let grow between you weighed heavy on his heart—a reminder of what he’d lost and what he might never get back.

--

Jaehyun wandered to a street bar near his place, settling into a quiet corner with a bottle and a glass. The night air was thick with the hum of city life, a familiar background to his quiet unraveling. He glanced at his phone, fingers hovering over a message he’d hesitated to send for too long.

With a steadying breath, he finally typed to the producer:

I don’t think this is working out. I’ll need to step back from our project.

He hit send, feeling the release like stepping off a tightrope, his resolve solid. He poured himself another drink, the burn of the alcohol both grounding and numbing.

Running a hand through his hair, he tried to steady himself. In moments of despair, his mind always drifted back to you, longing for the comfort of your warmth amid the silence.

He lifted his head from the glass just as a familiar face appeared across the bar, sparking instant nostalgia.

“Jaehyun?” The voice was warm and surprised. When he looked up, he saw the wide grin of an old high school friend, Minseok.

“Oh—Minseok-ah!” Jaehyun stood as they reached out for a handshake, pulling each other into a friendly chest bump.

“What are you doing here alone?” Minseok asked.

“Just trying to get through the day. How about you?”

“Why do it alone? Come on, let’s drink together,” Minseok said, chuckling as he took the seat beside Jaehyun.

Laughter quickly filled the air as they caught up, reminiscing over shared memories. The comfort of familiarity eased some of Jaehyun's earlier bitterness as the drinks kept flowing.

“So, what are you up to now? Last time we talked, you were at SNU studying music,” Jaehyun asked, curiosity sparking in his eyes.

Minseok smiled. “I’m producing now. If you’re ever looking for someone to collaborate with, I’d be honored.”

Jaehyun’s eyes widened in surprise. “You’re producing now?”

“Yeah, I’ve been at it for quite a while.”

As the conversation deepened, Jaehyun found himself opening up about the fallout with his previous producer, the frustrations of the past weeks, and the growing feeling of losing himself in the industry.

Minseok listened intently, sympathy etched in his expression.

“I get it. It happens you know? Sometimes, people even forget why they’re doing what they love in the first place.”

Jaehyun sighed, swirling his drink.

“Yeah, I just didn’t expect it to feel this empty”.

“Well, come to my studio,” Minseok replied, pouring another drink. “Maybe I can help.”

A spark of hope flickered in Jaehyun's chest, something he hadn't felt in ages—something he had lost in the sterile demands of his previous producer.

“I’d actually like that… a lot.”

--

The next few weeks passed in a blur. Jaehyun threw himself into his music, each day dissolving into the next as he filled the empty hours with endless melodies and late-night recording sessions. Minseok’s studio became his second home, its walls absorbing every failed attempt, every breakthrough, and every quiet moment of doubt.

One evening, Jaehyun headed to the company building for a round of final checks on his solo album. His body was tired, but his mind was relentlessly driven. As he walked past the studios, he nearly bumped into Jeno, who looked like he was the last one out after practice. Jaehyun’s face lit up, grateful for the unexpected company and a break from his own thoughts.

"Hyung!" Jeno greeted with a wide grin, pulling him into a quick hug. "Are you here working on your solo album?"

"Yeah," Jaehyun replied with a tired smile. "Just wrapping things up, trying to balance it with the group’s schedule."

Jeno chuckled, nodding knowingly.

"Sounds like you’re living in the studio these days."

"Yeah… but my friend's been helping a lot."

"That’s good. You could use the support."

Jaehyun hesitated, rubbing the back of his neck. Finally, he broke the silence.

"Hey, Jeno… have you seen Y/N around lately?"

There was no hiding the fact that Jeno was the one who took you home that night. When news broke of him being spotted with a woman in his car, rumours quickly started to swirl. Although SM Entertainment promptly cleared things up, stating that Jeno was simply helping out a friend, the speculation had already spread far and wide.

Jeno’s expression softened. He knew this question would come sooner or later.

"We hung out a few nights ago," he said, choosing his words carefully. "She’s… well, she’s been busy with work. The overtime's wearing her down a bit."

"That's good to know", Jaehyun's shoulders relaxed slightly, but there was a flicker of something else—regret, maybe.

Thoughts of you had crept into his mind more than he wanted to admit, but he still felt the weight of their last encounter at the club. The harsh words exchanged, her disappointment in him—it all lingered, making it hard to reach out.

"She's changed a bit," Jeno continued, his tone gentle. "But she's still Y/N… maybe just a little more guarded."

Jaehyun looked away, clenching his jaw. He hadn’t reached out, and not for lack of wanting to. After the fight, he couldn’t shake the feeling that maybe she didn’t want to see him anymore, that maybe he’d crossed a line that couldn’t be erased.

"Hyung, you should reach out to her. I think she’s waiting for you, even if she wouldn’t say it."

Jaehyun’s chest tightened, a surge of longing mixed with uncertainty. The thought of her waiting gave him a sliver of hope, but the memory of her disappointment held him back.

“Maybe…” Jaehyun murmured, half to himself.

But he knew he’d have to decide soon—before the silence between them became a wall neither could cross.

Jaehyun’s thoughts churned as he walked back to his car, Jeno’s words echoing in his mind: "I think she’s waiting for you." He replayed the last fight in his head—the hurt in your eyes, the way you turned and walked away, and the silence that had followed ever since. Every part of him wanted to see you, but his pride and guilt had held him back. Still, the hope that you might be waiting was enough to push him forward.

Before he could talk himself out of it, he decided he couldn’t go another day without seeing you.

—

Exhausted from another late night at the office, you stepped out into the chilly evening air, adjusting your bag on your shoulder. Fatigue clung to you, making every step feel heavier. All you wanted was to go home and collapse into bed.

But as you descended the office steps, a familiar figure caught your eye—Jaehyun.

The sight of him only reignited the simmering anger you'd been trying to bury since your last argument. Without a second glance, you walked right past him, clutching your bag tightly. He blinked, briefly thrown off, before quickly following you, trying to keep pace.

"Y/N… can we talk?" he called, his voice almost pleading.

"We have nothing to talk about, Jaehyun," you replied, your gaze fixed straight ahead.

"Please… I need you to listen to me," he insisted, desperation edging into his tone.

"I already got your message, Jaehyun."

He frowned, confusion flashing across his face.

"What message, Y/N? I never even reached out to you yet."

"Exactly," you shot back, bitterness lacing your words. You stopped abruptly, finally turning to look at him, eyes cold. "No reply is a reply, don’t you get it?"

He fell silent, visibly taken aback by the weight of your words. You could see the hurt flicker across his face, but you refused to let it soften your resolve.

"Since when did you start seeing silence as a bad sign for us?" he murmured, searching your face. "We’ve shared so many moments in silence… yet I always felt connected to you. I thought you understood that."

You shook your head, feeling the frustration bubble over. "This is different, Jaehyun. You don’t understand—"

"Then make me understand!" he interrupted, his voice rising with urgency. "Let me in, Y/N. I know I should’ve reached out, and I'm trying to make up for it now. I was caught up with my schedule, the solo album, everything... but that’s not an excuse."

He took a shaky breath, his shoulders sagging.

"I'm just... shocked that my silence hurt you this much. I got so used to feeling your love, even in quiet moments, that I took it for granted. I thought you knew how much you mean to me without me having to say it."

You stood there, caught between shock and confusion, unsure whether to feel angry or softened by his words. He looked down, his gaze falling to the ground, as if ashamed.

"Jaehyun," you started slowly, "I think… I think I’m a bit lost."

He squeezed his eyes shut for a brief moment, before looking back up at you, a flicker of vulnerability in his gaze.

"I like you, Y/N. I really do. And the thought of living without you… I don’t think I can do it anymore."

The raw honesty in his words left you speechless, your emotions tangled in a knot you couldn’t quite unravel. Your mind and heart seemed to be waging a silent war, each pulling you in a different direction.

"Jaehyun," you finally whispered, barely able to find your voice. "I… I can't give you an answer right now."

He nodded slowly.

"I understand. And that's okay. Really. You can keep living your life, just as you are. But… if you ever find your way back to me along the way, I'll be here, waiting."

The two of you held each other's gaze, a shared softness settling over the tension. For a moment, it felt like the world had quieted around you, leaving just the fragile connection lingering between you. After a beat, he spoke again, his voice gentle.

"Let's just have dinner together. I can’t bear seeing you like this. Let me at least make sure you’re okay tonight."

You hesitated, but the sincerity in his eyes made it hard to refuse.

A short while later, you found yourselves seated at a quiet, tucked-away street bar. The dim lighting cast a soft, golden glow over the tables, creating a small bubble of warmth around you both. As you sat across from him, waiting for your food, an awkward silence settled between you.

“Thank you,” he finally said, breaking the silence. “For agreeing to this. I know things have been… complicated.”

“It’s just dinner, Jaehyun,” you murmured, but even as you said it, you both knew it was more than that.

“I know. But it’s been a while since we’ve done this—just sat together. I missed it.”, you stared at him, disbelief crossing your face.

"So, what made you finally reach out to me?"

The question seemed to catch him off guard. He shifted, his fingers tracing patterns on the table, clearly thrown by your directness. But you held his gaze, waiting, wanting nothing but the truth. Finally, he exhaled, as if releasing a breath he’d been holding for too long.

"Jeno told me about you," he admitted, his voice low.

Your eyes narrowed slightly, a mix of curiosity and surprise tugging at you. "What did he say?"

"He told me how you’ve been working late, how you've become more reserved, and… how you were hurting. And I knew I couldn’t just sit by and let that happen—not when I’m part of the reason."

His words hung heavy in the air, raw and unfiltered. For the first time, you saw a flicker of vulnerability in him, a glimpse of the struggle he’d been hiding beneath the image he showed to the world. You took a slow, deep breath, feeling a pang in your chest as you watched him.

"At first, I questioned everything you said during the argument, and I let my ego get in the way. I didn’t want to admit that maybe… maybe I was the one who let things get this far. I thought… maybe you’d be better off without me."

The honesty in his voice chipped away at something inside you, softening the wall you'd built around your heart, brick by brick. After a quiet moment, he spoke up again, even softer.

“I’ve missed you, Y/N. More than I realized, honestly.”

The sincerity in his eyes held you there, and for a brief moment, the walls you’d built around yourself began to soften. Just then, the waiter arrived with your drinks, placing them carefully on the table before slipping away. You took a small sip, feeling the warmth of the drink calm some of the tension lingering between you.

"Jaehyun," you began softly, choosing your words carefully. "I really like you. I like you a lot, maybe even more than I should," you confessed, and you saw his eyes light up, a flicker of hope sparking within him. But you quickly continued, grounding him.

"But I can't just jump into your arms because of that. Not when there's still a part of you—something in you—that I’m struggling to accept."

Jaehyun listened intently, his gaze unwavering, absorbing every word with an intensity that made your heart ache. He nodded, acknowledging the weight of what you were saying.

"I need time," you said, your voice barely above a whisper. "Time to think this through carefully, to be sure that I can handle everything that comes with loving you."

He took a deep breath, his expression softening with understanding. "I respect that. Take all the time you need. Just… let me show you that I can be better, that I can be someone worth waiting for."

The sincerity in his promise warmed something deep within you, a small glimmer of hope settling in your chest.

"Let's do that".

--

After that night, Jaehyun took your words to heart. He didn’t push or demand more than you were ready to give; instead, he let his actions do the talking. He slowly made his presence a comforting constant in your life. Despite the walls you’d built around your heart, you felt them weakening.

He started with the small things. He’d text you after your long workdays, asking how you were holding up or sharing a lighthearted story to lift your spirits. Occasionally, he’d wait for you outside your office building after a hectic day, bringing you to a nearby café or restaurant, where you’d chat about work, life, and everything in between over the meal. He’d simply sit and listen, his attention fully focused on you, as though you were the center of his world. In those moments, you felt truly loved.

But then came the grander gestures—the ones that truly took you by surprise and reminded you just how serious he was about making up for lost time.

On one of his overseas trips, he sent you a carefully wrapped package. Inside was a small, hand-carved music box with a delicate melody that played when you turned the handle. Alongside it was a note in his familiar handwriting.

“For when I can’t be there in person, I hope this brings you a bit of comfort. - Jaehyun”

The small gift warmed your heart, and you could almost picture him browsing through shops, trying to find something that would mean something to you. As the days passed, you found yourself reaching for the music box on nights when you missed him more than you wanted to admit.

One evening, he invited you out to dinner, insisting it was just a casual meal. But when you arrived, you realized he’d gone out of his way to reserve a table at a restaurant you’d mentioned in passing, one you’d wanted to visit for ages. The thoughtfulness behind each gesture made it clear—he was listening, paying attention to the details you sometimes didn’t even remember sharing.

After dinner, the night felt lighter, as though a fragile peace had settled between you. As you both walked out of the restaurant, Jaehyun glanced at you, his expression hopeful but cautious.

“Would you… like to come over?” he asked softly. “I could show you some of the tracks from the album.”

“Sure,” you replied with a gentle smile.

He led you to his place, a quiet but cozy apartment just like how you remember it was. As you entered his place, you immediately noticed the shelves lined with LPs which was new since the last time you visit, each one carefully organized. Jaehyun led you to the collection, his face lighting up as he pulled a few records out to show you.

"These are some of my favorites," he explained, flipping through the collection with an easy familiarity. He held up his own LP, his album, with a hint of pride and vulnerability in his eyes.

"Have you heard my album?" he asked, his tone soft, almost uncertain.

You shook your head. “Not like this for sure. I was… waiting for the right moment, I guess.”

You hesitated, glancing at the LP in his hands. “Honestly… I think I was a little scared to listen deeply,” you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper.

Jaehyun’s brows furrowed, a look of gentle curiosity on his face.

“Scared? Why?”

You sighed, searching for the right words.

“I was afraid I’d hear… parts of you that you’d given to someone else. Your songs comes from a place of real emotion. The way you write, the way you sing—I could tell.” You sighed, searching for the right words. “I didn’t know if I was ready to face how much you loved someone else.”

For a moment, silence filled the space between you, broken only by the soft hum of the record player. Jaehyun looked at you, his expression shifting from surprise to something tender and understanding. He gently placed the LP onto the player, setting the needle down carefully.

“Then let me share it with you now. These songs… it’s a part of my journey, but it doesn’t define where my heart is now,” he said with his gaze soft on you.

He gestured for you to sit on the couch, and you settled in beside him, a comfortable closeness forming as you listened. The gentle strains of his voice surrounded you, and in that moment, you felt the walls between you begin to melt away. With each track, you could feel his heart and effort poured into the music—every beat, every melody felt like a glimpse into parts of him he’d never fully shared before. You found yourself leaning in, absorbed by the rawness in each song.

“How does it feel?” he asked, his voice barely above a whisper, as if not to disrupt the music or the moment.

“Feels like I should have listened to it sooner,” forming a smile at your face as you turned to him.

A quiet joy softened his face, and he settled back into the couch, content. The music continued to flow around you both. As the last notes faded, you slowly got up from the couch. Moving over to the record player, you reached down to adjust the LP, prepared to reset it for another play.

Just as you turned around, ready to ask if he wanted to listen again. But when you turned, you found him leaning back against the cushions, his eyes closed, his breathing slow and steady—fast asleep.

A faint smile tugged at the corners of your lips. For all the intensity and energy he had shared with you tonight, he looked peaceful now, almost childlike, as though he’d finally allowed himself to rest. You walked over quietly, taking a seat next to him, your gaze lingering on his sleeping face.

“He must be really tired”, you thought.

In the silence, you found yourself tracing the memories of every little thing he’d done. His thoughtfulness, his attentiveness—it all added up to something deeper, a love that went beyond words. Each one making it harder for you to keep your walls up.

After a while, you entered a room quietly to reach for a blanket, the dim light casting soft shadows over everything. As you looked around, your eyes landed on a small picture frame on the bedside table. The photo was faced down, but on the back, in Jaehyun's familiar handwriting.

Love.

Curiosity tingled in your chest, and with a hesitant hand, you reached out and flipped the photo over. Your breath caught when you saw the image—a Polaroid of you, taken at the day you promised to tell your feelings when you held in his. You remembered the day, the laughter, the way he’d been looking at you just before he snapped the picture. It was one of those moments you didn’t think he’d remember, yet here it was, tucked close to where he rested.

You carefully draped the blanket over him, tucking it around his shoulders. But as you leaned forward, Jaehyun stirred, his eyes fluttering open, a bit disoriented as he took in his surroundings.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t meant to fall asleep—” he mumbled, his voice laced with sleep, eyes blinking up at you.

You remained silent, your emotions laid bare by the tears that still clung to your lashes. His gaze softened as he noticed them, his brow furrowing in quiet concern.

“Are you… okay?” he asked gently, his hand lifting to brushing your arm to comfort.

You closed your eyes briefly, gathering the courage to voice what had been lingering in your mind. When you finally looked at him, your voice was barely a whisper.

“Can I… can I kiss you?”

For a moment, silence filled the room, his expression shifting from surprise to something deeper, something almost vulnerable. He leaned in closer, giving you the answer, the distance between you dissolving until your lips met in a soft, tender kiss—one that seemed to carry everything unsaid between you both.

As you pulled away, he looked at you, his gaze searching.

“What happened?”, his voice barely audible, as if afraid to break the fragile moment between you.

Without a word, you reached into your pocket and pulled out the polaroid you had found in his room. Jaehyun’s eyes widened slightly, his breath catching as he realized what you’d found. He opened his mouth to say something, but no words came. Instead, he looked at you with a vulnerability he rarely showed, his gaze filled with emotions he had kept hidden.

“You kept this,” you whispered, your voice wavering as you traced the edges of the photo. “All this time… you kept this.”

He nodded, a small, almost shy smile tugging at the corners of his lips.

“I couldn’t let it go,” he admitted softly, fingers brushing over the polaroid. “It reminded me of what I couldn’t say out loud.”

Tears pricked your eyes again, but this time, they were mixed with the warmth of understanding, the realization of how deeply he felt, even if he hadn’t always known how to show it.

Reaching into your bag, you pulled out a polaroid—a picture of Jaehyun. You held it in your hand, feeling its familiar weight. On the back, in your handwriting, was the word Love, mirroring the same word on his photo of you.

Finally, you handed it to him, and Jaehyun’s eyes softened as he realized you had kept this silent connection close. Then, without warning, he wrapped his arms around you, pulling you into a tight embrace. You could feel the steady beat of his heart against your own, his warmth surrounding you like a shield.

“I love you,” he whispered into your hair, his voice filled with a quiet conviction. “I’m sorry it took me so long to tell you, to show you.”

The words you had longed to hear settled into the quiet spaces of your heart, filling the emptiness you hadn’t even realized was there.

“I love you too, Jaehyun,” you murmured back, feeling the weight of your shared confessions settle between you like a promise.

With a soft smile, he pulled you closer. His arms hold you securely as you rest against his chest. The room was filled with a comforting silence, broken only by the steady rhythm of his breathing. Gradually, your eyes grew heavy, the exhaustion of the night and the emotional weight finally catching up with you.

With one last glance at each other, you let yourselves drift off, content and safe in each other's arms. For the first time, neither of you felt the need to say anything more—everything had already been said in the way you held each other, two hearts finally at rest.

--

Two years later, you both found yourselves on a long-awaited vacation in Japan, a trip you’d talked about countless times. After Jaehyun’s military service, you were grateful for the time he had before diving back into his schedule. And for you, ever since the break you took during your suspension, you’ve improved tremendously at work. Recognizing the benefit of rest, your company has even begun encouraging employees to take breaks now and then.

Now, riding the train through a breathtaking winter landscape, you both watched in awe as snow blanketed the world outside, each flake catching the soft, wintry light. The quiet rhythm of the tracks provided the perfect backdrop, bringing a sense of peace to all the hard work that had led you here.

You leaned closer to the window, mesmerized by the beauty—the trees dusted with snow, rooftops transformed into sugar-coated sculptures, the whole world cloaked in a serene white glow. It felt like a scene from a dream.

Jaehyun, watching you with a soft smile, felt warmth rise in his chest as he took in your wonderstruck expression. Suddenly, drawn to the moment, he leaned in and pressed a gentle kiss to your cheek. You turned, a little startled, only to find him inches away, his gaze warm and steady.

“That was a surprise,” you laughed, cheeks warming as he smiled back.

"Your just so beautiful", his eyes shining.

The train eventually stopped at a small station, and Jaehyun led you toward a quaint post office nearby. He’d planned this little detour—this spot was known for its “love letter” tradition, where visitors could write and send letters to each other that would arrive years later. Jaehyun handed you a pen and paper, a mischievous glint in his eyes, as he nodded toward a desk set up in the corner.

“Let’s write something for each other,” Jaehyun suggested, he handed you a pen and a fresh sheet of paper, gesturing toward a small desk in the corner.

“Okay, no peeking, alright?” you teased.

Jaehyun smiled, a playful glint flashing across his face. He nodded, giving you space as you sat down at the desk. The pen in your hand felt heavier than it should have as if the words you were about to write were more than just ink on paper.

Both of you wrote in silence, the soft scratch of pens filling the room. You tried to focus on your words, but your mind kept returning to Jaehyun. There was so much you wanted to say, so much you hadn’t yet admitted. But for now, this letter would be the way you could say it without speaking.

When you finished, you folded the paper carefully, sealing your thoughts inside. You watched as Jaehyun did the same. He didn’t look at you, but there was something about the way he held his letter that made your heart race.

He looked up, his eyes meeting yours. The playful energy between you had shifted, replaced by something deeper, something more serious. Without a word, Jaehyun reached out, taking your letter from your hands before handing you his.

"You look serious," you remarked, a soft hint of curiosity in your voice.

For a moment, you stared at the letter in your hands, uncertain, feeling the weight of the moment settle around you. Jaehyun’s voice broke the silence, softer than before, yet filled with an unmistakable certainty.

“I think we both know this is more than just a letter,” he said, his gaze unwavering.

You hesitated for a moment, then gently unfolded the paper. To your surprise, it wasn't the long, elaborate love letter you had expected from him, but a simple, heartfelt message. As you read the words carefully, a deep emotion stirred within you, each sentence carrying more weight than the last, settling in your chest like a promise you never thought you'd receive.

"Y/N, let me love you forever. Marry me"

Your heart stopped as you looked up at him, eyes wide with disbelief. There he was, the man who’d become everything to you, standing before you with all of his heart laid bare in front of you.

Jaehyun slowly took your hand, his other hand still holding his own letter, his voice barely a whisper. “Will you marry me?”

For a moment, the world seemed to stand still. The air around you felt thick with the weight of his words, his quiet question hanging between you like the most fragile thing in the universe. Your heart pounded in your chest, too fast to comprehend, too full to contain.

You stared at him, your breath catching in your throat as you looked into his eyes—those eyes that had been with you through everything, the eyes that had seen you at your best and your worst. And now, they were waiting for you to answer, waiting for you to take that leap with him.

“Yes,” you whispered, your voice trembling with emotion. “Yes, Jaehyun. I’ll marry you.”

The words felt like they had been waiting a lifetime to escape your lips, and the moment they did, a wave of warmth and relief washed over you both. Jaehyun’s face lit up with an overwhelming joy, his eyes sparkling, as though a burden he didn’t even realize he’d been carrying had finally been lifted.

Without a word, he pulled you into his arms, holding you close, his embrace tightening as if to make sure you were real, that this was really happening. You felt the steady beat of his heart against yours, and for the first time, everything felt perfectly aligned, as though the world had conspired to bring you both to this very moment.

Jaehyun pulled back just enough to look at you, his hand cupping your cheek tenderly. His voice, soft and full of emotion, slipped from his lips. “I love you. I’ll love you forever, Y/N.”

And as he kissed you, gently and full of promise, you knew that this was only the beginning of the beautiful life you would share together.

-- ˚˖𓍢ִ໋`🌿:✧˚.📷⋆𖧧 --

[cherryblossompink303]

Patience: ~Until the day it becomes a pumpkin!~

➼ pairing: Kyoya Ootori x Reader ➼ summary: It is halloween in ouran academy ➼ what to expect:  "Am i your girlfriend now? I don't recall you asking" ➼ warnings: none ➼ Part Nineteen | Part Twenty One

"I regret ever agreeing to wear the costumes with you guys" you sigh as Kyoya helps to lace you into the big gothic gown that Tamaki had provided you. "At least it makes sense to dress up at this time of year"

"What is the appeal of vampires anyway I don't find blood loss to be all that attractive" Kyoya pondered, pulling out the fake fangs. "I think it's the danger aspect, the same reason that girls like werewolves I guess"

"I do find it strange that Tamaki has asked you to be the bride of dracula"

"I guess it is the closest we're ever gonna get to a couple's costumes" Kyoya raises an eyebrow "I was unaware that was something that interests you" you shrug "Not particularly but it's just a bit of fun"

"I suppose so"

The two of you step out from behind the curtains "Wow y/n-chan you look so cool!" Honey exclaims. "Thank you Honey-senpai" Tamaki stares back at you in awe "Ah y/n look at you! You are so cute! Look at my beautiful daughter!" Tamaki spins you around.

This is the magic spell. Tamaki calls the host club family, and you are here with your fiance, happy.

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Until the day it becomes a pumpkin!

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"Trick or treat, girls. Give me candy, or else your blood.” 

"Oh tamaki, you make such a handsome vampire" "Those fangs look real"

Tamaki leans into one of the girls "May I nibble on your lovely neck for a treat?"

"Oh no you musn't, you will have to play a trick on me instread"

"And indeed I shall"

"Hello" The twins and haruhi slide into the host club "Why are you guys late? Hurry up and change"

"Sorry boss but from now until Halloween count us out, okay?"

"What?"

"Count you out?"

"We're on the preparation commitee for a special event, class 1-A is sponsoring it."

"Duty calls then"

"Good luck without us here for the week" "And that reminds me, y/n, our numbers are uneven so we need extra person, do you mind joining our group for it? Its a test of courage tournament"

"Me? I'm second year though"

"It doesn't matter the event is school wide we are just organising it"

"Oh, well i guess its okay then"

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You, haruhi, the twins and the class president end up huddled against a wall after you get caught up on his phobias. "Are you not scared y/n?"

"Scared? No, I live for halloween, and horror movies"

"I guess Halloween does have a flare for the dramatic, not surprising from a theatre kid" "Gee thanks kaoru"

Haruhi is busy caught up with reading an anxiety selfhelp book to the class president. "Are you kidding me? None of those things actually work! Call me the captain of all cowards, you can scream it from teh rooftops, just get me out of here!"

"Really? Even if it means Kurakano will think you're a big chicken"

"Huh?"

"Woah, wait a minute, what's going on with you and Kurakano?"

"No! It's nothing like that! We're just friends! I've known her since we were little, none of this has anything to do with it!" The class president is turning redder by the second.

"Fine, fine, we understand"

"Funny how you had told us you didn't wanna throw your weight around..." "When the reason you agreed to any of this is because you didn't wanna look like a freak"

"That's not it, that's not the reason why I couldn't oppose it. I...it's just...Kurakano...well, she had her hear set on this tournament. I didn't wanna let her down, so I couldn't say no"

"You mean...oh crap! He's totally pure!" "He's got a heart of gold, Hikaru!"

"Our powers are nothing against his wholesomeness!"

"Believe it or not, not all guys are manipulative pervs like you two" you butt in.

"Hey!" "We're not Manipulative!"

"That's the part you're arguing?" You raise an eyebrow.

"So, does this mean we have to help him now?"

Something passes the window "Did you see that?"

a skull drops down the staircase nearby "No way, it's a sneak attack from those A-team hacks!" "Hey it's not your turn guys! Follow the rules!" Hikaru kicks the skull back up the staircase

"Yeah you show them!"

"My skull..."

"My skull..."

The clocktower chimes, and a shadowy figure appears at the top of the stairs "Could it be the clocktower witch?"

"Why did you kick....my skull!?"

The five of you run off, you and Kaoru tripping and ending up in some net trap.

Nekozawa stands back in the corridor watching in glee as you all run away and freak out "My fright strategy was perfection itself...Kyoya are you not joining in on the fun?"

Kyoya is leant against a wall nearby reading a flashlight "I am not, I'm just waiting for my girlfriend to be done with this and then we're leaving."

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"Ow! This is supposed to be a tournament not a hunt....Hikaru! Where is he? I've gotta find Hikaru!" He starts thrashing around "Hey cut it out! I know you worry for him when you two are apart but he will be fine...now I'm sure I have something on me that can get us out of this..."

You route around your bag to pull out a letter opener "Why do you have that on you?" You shrug "I recieve a lot of mail"

"Hold still for a second...this is gonna be awkward I apologise" You lean over to start hacking at the rope. "Excuse me miss l/n you have a boyfriend"

"Something tells me Kyoya will forgive me...besides...I don't know if he's my boyfriend"

"Huh? I thought you guys were together? That photo from the play seemed pretty final on it"

"We are we just haven't really put a label on it, we have been introducing eachother as fiances even before there was anything between us so I guess it does not really matter anyway"

"i see"

"I'm not to bothered about it...one day...a bit sooner than I would like, I will be married to him anyway"

"Do you not want to marry Kyoya? I mean I know you have not been together long but surely dating your fiance is good for an arranged marriage"

"It is not so much about being married to Kyoya but what it means about our lives, our responsibilities will widen much. I think you know what I mean too Kaoru. We all have something waiting for us after we graduate. we can't all live in denial forever"

The spell is upon us, where we can all wit around in nice outfits and hold tea parties. But when the clock strikes, and the carriage turns back to a pumpkin, the spell will break.

The rope snaps, dropping you both to the floor.

Kaoru sits up "I need to find Hikaru" He gets up, running off in the direction that the rest of the group went"

"There you are"

Kyoya wanders up to you, standing over as you look up at him. "Do you want to go now?" he outstretched his arm to offer help up.

You nod, taking his hand "I think I've had enough of this tournament"

"Our driver is waiting outside, there should be candy waiting for us at the apartment"

You raise an eyebrow "you hate sweets"

"I do, but you love halloween, the candy isn't for me"

You pause looking up to him, his eyes still trained ahead. "Kyoya...is this a date?"

"You sound shocked"

"I am a little"

"Is it so shocking that I may want to take my girlfriend on a date"

"Am i your girlfriend now? I don't recall you asking"

"Do you need me to ask?"

You roll your eyes "Whatever, I have a craving for sugar"

The two of you walk out of the school hand in hand.

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The two of you are sat on the couch in the apartment, 'veronica' playing in the background. "I must admit when I said you can pick the movie I didn't expect it to be in spanish"

You shrug "Horror knows no bounds, including language"

the two of you fall into a comfortable silence. "Are we going to talk about it?"

"Hm?"

"The email I got, about your family...and what my father is covering up..."

"That email is not proof that what you think is true"

"There is no other way to interpret it Kyoya"

"My father is not exactly the most morally sound man but I refuse to believe that he would do this"

"It is the only explanation Kyoya there is something going on in your families hospitals, and whatever it is people are potentially dying from it."

"I know....I just refuse to belive it...let me look into it more"

"Okay...." Eventually you fall asleep halfway through the movie, slumped over leaning on Kyoya. But the question still lingered in Kyoya's mind.

Next time on patience 'Mori senpai has an apprentice candidate!'

Tag list (reply to be added): @skottch @cgmajor @rebirthbunbun @bbybubbles @blueberry19000 @katgirl05 @smellslikelovinglies @veras-fanfic-reblogs @sadprimrose @mirtalikesdr @sleeplesssskeleton @ritzes28 @crackpeole @rory-cakes @renjunniex @II-kita-san-II @angelicwillows @missbrebre1012 @sleep-7372 @strawberrbitch @reticent-writer @eternal-dokja @meme848 @mistyhydrangeagarden @nanaloverz @hyuninslutbbgirl @rebel-author-chick

[sweetbunpura]

Rollo tries to propose to Yuu but everyone tries to sabotage him 😈

LMAO, Rollo has to get through so many people just to propose to Yuu!

Rollo vs NRC

The fourth year had come, gone, and they NRC students had returned to the school to graduate. Rollo had spent his apprentice in Fleur city, learning about all he could with his new found interest in volunteer work and planning for his future... in more ways than one. He had purchased a ring, intending to propose to the love of his life at the graduation. Him and Yuu had only grown closer in the time apart, which was a surprise to Rollo, for he had heard how many couples had struggled with long distance relationships.

Outside of phone calls, Rollo had not see her for a year, so had had no idea how much she had changed. Taking a deep breath, he stepped through the portal and into the Mirror Chamber. Other 4th years were in there and chatting among one another, most paid him no mind....but he halted as a call of his name sounded.

"Roll-kun!" Cater waved him over.

Rollo approached him and took in the ginger's new looks. Cater had stayed the same height but his hair was different, he had dyed red locks on top of his longer hair. He wrapped him up in a hug and smiled.

"Look at you! Your hair has really grown out! Yuu-chan's gonna love it."

Rollo gave a soft smile and dragged his fingers through his long gray hair. "Thank you, Cater."

"And a smile too? She really changed you~"

"Indeed." Rollo patted his pocket and felt the box against it. "Now if you'll excuse me-"

"Going to see Child of Man with that ring?"

Rollo jolted and sighed as he turned around to see a smiling Malleus. "Malleus...."

"Hello, Flamme." Malleus gave a small bow. "Am I right in assuming you plan on asking her to marry you?"

"Wait, no kidding!?"

Rollo sighed and nodded. "I am. Now, I'm off to go find her. Farewell."

He left, complete unaware of Malleus and Cater smiling at each other. From there, Rollo could not find Yuu anywhere, and everyone he had asked had pointed him in various opposite directions. Idia and Ortho had straight up lied to him, stating that Yuu wasn't even here to begin with. Silver and Sebek just shook their heads and said that she might be else where, just not on campus. And yet everywhere else had wielding the results of "I don't know"

He was getting frustrated at this point, but before he could even think of where else to go, the announcement for the graduation started. With a sigh, he went to the podium and waiting for eveything to start.

Once the ceremony ended, he departed the stage and was about to start looking for her again, he got tackled.

"Enough of this!" Rollo glared at Deuce, Ace, and Grim. "Why is everyone so hellbent on stopping me!"

"You can't ask her to marry you." Ace grumbled.

"Yeah!" Grim added in. "She's my henchhuman and I don't want you macking on her!"

"By the sevens... We're already dating!" Rollo growled and pried the three off of him. "This is getting absurd!"

"You can't blame us..." Deuce said. "She means the world to us."

"I understand that, but she means the same to me." He sighed. "And I haven't seen her all day. We've only been communicating through calls... And I miss her terribly."

"Aw."

Rollo jolted and turned around to see Yuu standing behind him with Cater and Malleus in a headlock. She smiled warmly at her and her hair had gotten longer, they were worked into brains with hair ornaments in them.

"Love."

"Heard you been looking for me and everyone sent you on a wild goose chase." She shook Cater ad Malleus. "Thanks to these two."

"Guilty as charged~" Cater laughed.

"It was all in good fun." Malleus huffed.

"Now." She dropped them as they landed on the ground face down. "What's up?"

"I wanted to ask you something." He reached into his pocket and before he could get down on one knee to begin, the others started gathering around.

"Aw~ Snapping Turtle's gonna propose~" Floyd.

"How beautiful!" Rook.

"I'll be the one designing the dress no doubt." Vil.

"About time." Leona.

Rollo sighed as the chatter started up around him, Yuu tugged him forward by his robes.

"I know you had this all planned out, but you know how these guys are." She kissed him. "Put the ring on, the answer's gonna be yes no matter what."

Rollo opened the box and slipped the ring on her before placing his forehead on her shoulder.

"I hate them."

"No, you don't.