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kookooluvr · 8 days ago

Text

Teach Me How To Love - Part 5

pairing: professor!jungkook x (fem) professor!reader, fwb to lovers

genre: fluff, angst, smut, fwb au, economicsprofessor!jungkook, politicalscienceprofessor!reader, slow burn, some emotional constipation, some sappy moments, lots of sexy moments.

summary: jeon jungkook, a fellow professor at yonsei university, is your friend, co-worker, and secret bed buddy. you have rules set in place to make sure there are no misunderstandings in your little arrangement. the #1 rule is as clear as day; no catching feelings. simple, right? wrong. let's see how un-simple it gets when a certain economics professor falls for an emotionally unavailable political science professor.

rating: 18+ MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!

word count: 16k

warnings: the gang all head off to jeju, jk and oc have a little moment on the plane, jk's secret playlist for oc, jk and oc share a room thanks to tae, he gets hard from a few smoochies, oc finds out what jk said about her back when they met, some jealousy, she takes a step back before taking a step forward, some wholesome vibes, lots of yearning, cuddles, oc has a few realisations, volleyball on the beach, HANA AGAIN (she's a warning all on her own), very minor ankle injury, mentions of oc's past heartbreak, some angst + fluff on the beach, explicit sexual content; making out, shower sex, fingering (f. receiving), handjob (m. receiving), oral (m. receiving), unprotected sex (oc's on the pill you know the drill), a brief description of fluffy morning sex, nipple play, oral (f. receiving), sleepy missionary sex, overall fluffy ending.

author's note: i just want to thank you all for all the love and support this story has gotten so far, i love and appreciate you all so so much !!! i really hope you enjoy part 5 (this is a lengthy one ladies and gentlemen so be prepared) and please don't be shy to share your thoughts because i love hearing them okay bye 🫶🏼🫶🏼

taglist: @rpwprpwprpwprw @livinluvl @chxiosworld @mimi1097 @bumblebee-21s-blog @koosluvss @sou-17 @svnbangtansworld @junecat18 @shrek-the-destroyer @tastykookoonut @sturniolowrld @palomanazareth @chimmisbae @daskewl @ramyun-h @heyitsroshni @matryoshka-poetry @almatiarau @ambiee3 @gukkie7

find tmhtl masterlist here

Today is just not your day. No, there wasn't an earthquake or a massive flood (it's far less dramatic than that) but more so minor inconveniences continuously piling up. For starters, Miso threw up on your bed, which was a fantastic start to the morning. You checked to make sure it wasn't anything serious, but it turns out she just had a hairball. Typical. Then there was an accident on the road around 10am, so you were stuck in traffic while taking Miso over to Jihyo's place where she'll be staying for the next few days. On top of that, you can't find your phone charger or your headphones and Jungkook is currently on his way to your apartment to pick you up to go to the airport, giving you very little time to get your shit together.

Mai and Namjoon and the rest of Jungkook's friends are all at the airport already, waiting for the flight which is set to leave at 2pm to take you all from Seoul to Jeju. Mai has been texting you nonstop to confirm that you're still going, and at one point you weren't sure if you should follow through, but you just couldn't disappoint her. The two of you are already becoming fast friends, and she seems pretty excited to have you come along with all of them. What's the harm in joining Jungkook and his friends on a three-day trip?

You're frantically checking to make sure you haven't forgotten to pack anything important, when your phone buzzes, signalling a text from Jungkook letting you know he's on his way up to your apartment. Well...fuck it. If you forgot anything, it's too late to stress about it now.

You scurry to make sure you have all your skincare products and toiletries before quickly zipping up your luggage. Minutes later there's a knock on your door, so you roll your suitcase to the living room and open the front door, feeling your stomach flip at the sight of him. He ditched his usual button-up shirt and slacks for a casual golfer and jeans, the denim hugging his thighs just right, the shirt's short sleeves showing off his thick biceps. His hair is styled a little messily, paired with his favourite black sunglasses. He looks like the lead role out of a rom-com, and that's not just because you're ovulating. Damn, maybe today is your day after all.

"Hey," he smiles, pushing his sunglasses to the top of his head to push back his hair. "You all set?"

"Yeah, let me just get my suitcase-"

"Lemme get that for you."

You reach for the handle of your suitcase, but he stops you and quickly gets it before you do. You have no problem carrying your own bags or rolling around a heavy suitcase, but Jungkook wouldn't be Jungkook if he wasn't a true gentleman, so you let him do it because you know he's just going to insist anyway.

"Oh, uhm, thanks," you murmur, watching his arm flex as he carries your suitcase out the apartment, giving you a chance to lock the door.

"It's no problem," he shrugs, flashing you a smile. The two of you walk to the elevators, going downstairs to his car in the parking lot. He unlocks the car and puts your suitcase next to his in the trunk, opening your door for you before making his way over to the driver's seat, the engine roaring to life.

The drive to the airport is a short one, but you use your time wisely, stealing little glances while he's not looking, taking in the way his muscles flex under his skin, the way his hair blows in the light breeze of the air conditioner, the way his skin glows under the summer sun. He's a gorgeous man, and you could stare at him for hours, but you mentally remind yourself to look away every time your thoughts get a little too carried away or the butterflies in your stomach flap their wings just a little too hard. He's not your boyfriend, and a three-day trip with him and his friends won't change that, even if your brain and your heart have been having a few disagreements about that lately.

"So...you ready for Jeju?" He asks, snapping you out of your daze.

"Yeah, the weather should be nice," you murmur, looking out the window as the other cars pass by.

"I hope you didn't feel obligated to come, y'know. I know Mai can be a bit pushy at times but she means well," he mutters, keeping his eyes straight ahead of him as he drives.

"No, no, I'm happy to come," you murmur. "I mean...I was pretty drunk when she initially invited me, so obviously I wasn't going to say no, but it's a free vacation. What type of person would I be to complain about that?"

You had insisted on paying for your own plane ticket to Jeju, but Mai just wasn't having any of that. She graciously offered to pay for your ticket because she invited you a bit last minute. You could have managed, but as Jungkook says, Mai can be a bit pushy. Not that you mind, you've actually started growing quite fond of her since you met that night at the club.

He glances over at you for a moment, then reluctantly looks away. He wishes he wasn't driving so that he could just keep staring. A few moments pass in comfortable silence before he speaks, his voice soft and contemplative. "I really am glad you decided to join."

You look over at him, a faint smile gracing your face. "Why? Because otherwise you'd have to use your hand instead of me?"

He scoffs, rolling his eyes. "No," he mutters, trying to sound annoyed but failing as a hint of amusement creeps onto his face. "Because I really enjoy your company, ___."

You try to remind yourself why you set so many rules and boundaries between the two of you, but you can barely hear your brain over the loud chattering of your heart. "Yeah...me too," you murmur softly, looking back out the window for the rest of the drive. This trip is surely going to be a test of your self-restraint, that's for sure.

At the airport, the two of you meet the rest of his friends, getting a tight hug from an excited Mai, hearing Namjoon chuckle at his fiancée's enthusiasm.

"Mai, c'mon, you're suffocating her," Jungkook jokes, greeting the rest of his friends with a pat on their back. Everyone is excited to get to Jeju, a few of them already talking about going down to the beach once they land. It'll be a nice get-away from the concrete jungle that is Seoul.

"Oh, I'm sorry, ___," she chuckles, pulling away to go and stand next to Namjoon, looking like a puppy being taken on a walk. "I'm just so happy we're all together."

"It's okay," you murmur with a smile. "Thank you again for inviting me, Mai."

"Of course! You're Jungkook's friend, so you're our friend now too."

Her words bring a strange, warm feeling to your chest. You've only ever had a handful of friends in your life, Jihyo being your right-hand woman. You're so used to keeping people at arm's length, so to have his friends be so willing to accept you into their friend group is new, and just slightly intimidating.

Everyone hangs out in the waiting area until it's time for the flight. Jisoo and Seokjin have a little argument about whether he turned the stove off before they left the house, Namjoon and Mai discuss everything they want the group to do in Jeju, while Hoseok, Yoongi, Taehyung and Jimin are already thinking about what's for dinner tonight.

Much to Jungkook's dismay, Hana is here as well, so he quickly goes to sit with you before she can start up a conversation with him. She watches the way he not so subtly flirts with you, the way you try to act indifferent, despite the occasional chuckle you let out at one of his dumb jokes. It makes her blood boil.

Hana's not an idiot. She knows something is going on between the two of you, but she also knows that Jungkook would be showing you off if you were his girlfriend. She can't figure out exactly what it is you two have going on, but she doesn't like it. On the plane, she finds it annoying that he insists on putting your suitcase up in the overhead compartment for you, and she mentally rolls her eyes when he sits next to you, leaving her to sit next to Hoseok and Yoongi.

Jungkook on the other hand is quite happy to be seated next to you, after subtly shoving Taehyung out of that seat, leaving his friend to sit in the next row. Not that Taehyung minds, he'll anyway just end up texting a certain friend of yours throughout the flight, which he spent all of last night doing as well.

"I made this new playlist on Spotify," Jungkook quips as he gets his phone out, putting one of his earphones in before holding the other one out for you. "Wanna hear?"

You move closer and place the earphone in your ear with a smile, looking down at his phone to see the title ___'s playlist on the screen. That was definitely not meant for your eyes. At least not yet.

"Hey, what's that?" you ask, but he quickly scrolls past it before you can get a proper look at it.

"Hm? Oh no, that's nothing. Here it is," he mutters quickly, his movements a bit panicked as he clicks on a playlist called Jeju Summer. You'll have to ask him about that other playlist another time. He hits play and the first song is by Beabadoobee, causing your eyebrows to raise in surprise.

"I didn't know you listened to Beabadoobee," you chuckle.

"What, are you making fun of me?" he asks with an amused smile and a raised eyebrow.

"No, of course not. I love her, I just wouldn't have pegged you to listen to this sorta music, that's all."

"Well...maybe you have a few more things to learn about me, Professor," he teases, looking over at you with a soft smile, the catchy melody playing through his earphones.

The songs play one by one, some a bit slower than others, causing your eyes to slowly fall closed, your head lowering to rest on his shoulder. The weight of your head on his shoulder brings a smile to his face, his head resting against yours for the remainder of the flight. He scrolls back to the playlist he made for you and hits play, letting out a soft sigh as 'The Only Exception' by Paramore starts to play. The playlist isn't finished yet, but he hopes to gain the courage to show it to you some day.

Hana watches the exchange from her seat, mentally cursing you. She has no claim over Jungkook, but that doesn't make it sting any less, and if her eyes were daggers, you'd be dead by now. She has to force herself to look away from the two of you, her face growing hot with jealousy. She can't quite remember why she even wanted to come on this trip in the first place.

Once the group arrives in Jeju, everyone splits into separate groups to go over to Mai's family's beach house. Seokjin, Jisoo, Namjoon and Mai share a car, while Yoongi, Hoseok, Hana and Jimin all drive together, leaving you, Jungkook and Taehyung to drive together in the third car.

Jungkook packs everyone's luggage in the trunk of the rental car and gets the engine running. You sit in the passenger seat, leaving Taehyung to sit on the back seat. It's a beautiful day in Jeju, the waves crashing as you all drive down the scenic route. Jungkook occasionally steals glances at you while he drives, causing Taehyung to stifle a big grin. He can't tell if you're oblivious to his friend's obvious affection toward you, or if you're just choosing to ignore it. Either way, it's quite amusing for him to witness first hand.

"I wonder how many rooms there are at this house," Taehyung mumbles, looking out at the view. "I'm sure a few people will have to share, huh?"

"Well, obviously each couple will share a room," Jungkook murmurs.

"Right...Joon and Mai, Jin and Jisoo, you and-"

"Wow! Look at that view!" Jungkook interjects before he can go any further, shooting his friend a narrow-eyed look in the rear-view mirror, Taehyung pretending to seal his lips. The rest of the drive is filled with the soft sounds of the radio playing, paired with the sounds and smell of the ocean outside.

It's a thirty-minute drive before you all get to the beach house. Jungkook pulls up into the driveway and gets out, going around to open your door for you. Once you get out the car, your eyes widen in awe of the stunning house. It's a big two-story home with six bedrooms, large windows and the beach right at its feet. Some of the others are already there, Jisoo and Mai already setting up and unpacking the groceries in the kitchen.

You, Jungkook and Taehyung get your luggage from the trunk and make your way inside. Mai makes sure to give you a little tour of the house while the others chat in the kitchen, showing you around the bottom and top floor to make sure you know where everything is. Once everyone has arrived at the house, the group gathers in the living room, getting comfortable to decide who's taking what room.

"We hope you all don't mind but Mai and I will be taking the master bedroom," Namjoon grins, already heading upstairs to take their luggage to their room, the one with a king-sized bed and a gorgeous view of the beach, leaving everyone else to decide on their rooms. Seokjin and Jisoo get the second biggest bedroom, the one upstairs with a queen-sized bed and a big tub in the en-suite. Hoseok suggests him and Yoongi share one of the bedrooms with two single beds, and he accepts, mainly because he could care less where he sleeps.

As everyone begins to pair off for the remainder of the rooms, the reality of the situation slowly starts to sink in. There are five people left, and only three more rooms.

"Jimin and I will share a room," Taehyung calls out, shooting Jungkook a look, subtly gesturing over to you with his eyes. He knows his friend wants to share a room with you, better yet, he knows his friend does not want to share a room with Hana.

"___, you're new to the group. You should get your own room," Mai suggests.

Dammit Mai.

Jungkook looks over at you, swallowing thickly at the thought of having to share the last room with Hana, who happens to be visibly pleased.

"I think that's a great idea!" Hana quips with a sly grin. "Kookie and I can share, and his friend can have her own room. I mean, who doesn't want their own room, right, ___?"

"Oh, uhhh..." You don't quite know what to say. You glance over at Jungkook, his eyes boring a hole through you, practically begging you to decline. You're a guest in Mai's family's home, so you should probably just take what you get, even if the thought of Jungkook and Hana sleeping in a bed together makes your stomach turn.

"Hana, why don't you take the single room instead?" Taehyung blurts out with a sickeningly sweet smile, causing Hana to whip her head in his direction. "___ is Jungkook's friend so I think it would only make sense for them to share a room. You said it yourself; who doesn't want their own room...right?"

Hana's eyes dart between you and Jungkook, her jaw clenching. She had clearly hoped to get a room with Jungkook in hopes of getting closer to him, but with everyone's expectant eyes on her, Taehyung leaves her no choice. She forces a smile and pretends to be thrilled about having her own room for these next three days.

"Yeah, perfect," she mutters through gritted teeth.

Jungkook keeps his expression schooled, even as his heart bangs against his ribcage. The two of you will be sharing a room. He shoots Taehyung a grateful smile, silently thanking his friend for doing what he couldn't do. Internally, he's ecstatic, but externally he remains nonchalant. He knows you still have your boundaries and your rules and all that, so he leans over to whisper in your ear from his seat on the arm of the couch, making sure no one else can hear. "Are you okay with this?"

You turn your head to look up at him, your heart racing at the thought of sharing a room with him for three days. You're not sure if it's nerves or excitement, but you nod and give him a faint smile. Some rules are meant to be broken on vacation anyway.

He mirrors your smile, his eyes having a hard time looking away from your face. "It's fine with us," he announces, standing up to grab your luggage and take it to the room.

You follow him to your room and gently close the door behind you, your eyes trailing over the double bed you'll be sharing. The room itself is quite spacious with a big window, allowing the late afternoon sea breeze to travel inside. There is an en-suite bathroom and a waterfall shower, but all you can think about is that bed and what might happen in it in the nights to come.

You both start unpacking, the room slowly starting to feel like your own, your skincare products placed neatly on the bathroom counter, your clothing hanging in the shared closet. You hang up the last of your clothing while Jungkook goes to sit at the edge of the bed, watching you with a faint smile on his face.

"You sure you're okay with us sharing a room? Because I can sleep on the couch in the living room if you-"

"Don't be ridiculous," you chuckle, walking over to stand between his thighs, your hands on your hips. "I'm not letting you sleep on the couch on vacation. You'd probably just end up complaining about a crick in your neck and I don't wanna have that on my conscience."

He lets out a huff of laughter, shaking his head in amusement. "I guess you're right, yeah."

His laughter dies down, his face softening into a smile, his big brown eyes staring up at you, his hands reaching out to trail up your thighs, his thumbs rubbing slow circles over the fabric of your leggings. "Seriously though, I don't want you to be uncomfortable."

"Jungkook, I'm okay."

"Can I get a kiss to prove it?" he whispers, staring up at you like he's been dying to ask since he picked you up from your apartment.

You let out a soft scoff and lean down to cup his face in your hands, leaning in to press a soft peck to his lips.

"Another one please," he whispers, his lips just millimetres from yours, his big brown eyes pleading as he stares up at you. You smile and close the gap, pressing another kiss to his lips, this one lasting slightly longer.

"One more."

"You're greedy."

"For you, yes."

You're about to respond, when there's a knock at the door, causing you to jolt up straight, backing away from him to avoid getting caught by any of his friends. "Come in!"

Jisoo peeks her head in, completely oblivious to the moment you had going on. "Hey, we're getting started on dinner, okay? It shouldn't be long."

"Thanks, Soo," Jungkook murmurs, standing up to subtly adjust his jeans, his back turned to her.

As soon as Jisoo leaves and the door closes, your eyes trail down to see Jungkook's situation, a little chuckle bubbling up your throat.

"Are you seriously hard from a few kisses?"

"Shut up, your kisses feel good, okay?" he mumbles, a faint pout on his lips.

You bite your lip to hold back the smile spreading across your face, his words sending a rush of pride through your chest. You glance over at the bathroom door before grabbing some underwear and a flowy dress from the closet to wear to dinner. "I'm gonna go take a shower before dinner, okay?"

"Yeah," he nods, his eyes growing wide as you turn around and press one last kiss to his lips before disappearing into the en-suite, the bathroom door shutting behind you.

Jungkook plops down onto the bed with his arms splayed out, a big grin spread across his face as he stares up at the ceiling. A few kisses and he's putty in your hands.

The smell of food fills your nose as you leave the room for dinner, the others coming in and out of the kitchen. Jisoo sets the table while Seokjin and Yoongi finish up on dinner, with the others hanging out in the living room. You want to make yourself useful in any way that you can, so you go to the kitchen to check if anyone needs any help.

"___, can you help me set the table?" Jisoo asks, handing you a few plates.

You get to work, placing a plate at each place setting while she adds the utensils and the glasses. She doesn't seem to talk much, which is quite the opposite of Mai, which is probably why they're best friends. They balance each other out. That seems to be the case for Jungkook's entire friend group. Each person has their person who seems to balance out their personality. Yoongi has Hoseok, Jisoo has Mai and Mai has Namjoon, and so on. This leaves you questioning who your person is. Maybe it's the man who can't seem to keep his big brown eyes off of you for more than a few seconds at a time as he attempts to stay focused on his conversation with Hoseok and Namjoon.

"You know," Jisoo murmurs, keeping her eyes down as she gently places the utensils next to each plate. "You must be really special for Jungkook to bring you around."

Her words puzzle you. "How so?"

She looks over at you, a soft smile spreading across her face. "You're the first woman Jungkook's ever introduced us to. Even if you are just his friend...you must be a very special friend."

You look down at the stack of plates in your hands, her words ringing through your head. "I suppose so..."

As if on cue, Jungkook walks into the dining room, slowly rounding the table to get to you, placing a gentle hand on your lower back. "Need any help?"

"I think we can manage," you murmur softly, looking up into his eyes.

Jisoo looks between the two of you with a knowing smile, leaving to get the salads from the kitchen. She knows that look, the way you look at him. It's the same look she used to give Seokjin in university, the look she still gives him even after three kids. She doesn't know you that well yet, but she has a sneaky suspicion she'll be seeing a lot more of you.

Everyone eventually sits down for dinner, Jungkook sitting on your left and Mai on your right. The atmosphere around the table is bubbly, everyone chatting and discussing their plans for the next two days in Jeju.

"We're so playing volleyball tomorrow," Hoseok announces. "Everyone in?"

"Soo and I will be sitting this one out," Seokjin murmurs with an apologetic smile.

"Boooo!" Jimin teases, rolling his eyes. "Hyung, c'mon!"

"Sorry, we're going for a walk," he shrugs.

"A walk?" Namjoon scoffs. "Is that code for sex?"

Seokjin lets out a hearty laugh, giving Namjoon an exasperated look. "You try having three kids. Cut us some slack!"

"Okay, so Jin and Jisoo are out," Hoseok says, rolling his eyes at the couple who don't seem to care, Jisoo placing a soft kiss on her husband's cheek.

"Me too," Yoongi murmurs, chewing on some of the samgyeopsal. "I wanna catch up on some reading."

Hoseok scoffs, muttering a teasing, "Get a load of Stephen Hawking over here".

"I'm in," Jimin calls out. "I still have to kick your ass for the last volleyball game."

"Yeah, me too. I can't believe we lost to Hobi," Taehyung sighs, shaking his head. "Kook?"

"I'm still deciding," Jungkook murmurs with a faint grin, taking a sip of his beer. His response is mostly just to tease Hoseok.

You look over at him, then over at Hoseok, who seems to be waiting for your verdict. "I'm in."

"See, I knew I liked you, ___," Hoseok smiles. "Kook, why didn't you bring her around sooner? I'm already starting to like her more than you."

Jungkook doesn't protest. He simply glances over at you with a soft smile on his face, watching as you talk to his friends. It feels so natural to have you here, like you're a puzzle piece that's been missing all this time. You just fit.

All throughout dinner, he finds little ways to maintain contact with you. He touches your thigh under the table, he rests his arm over the back of your chair, he lazily plays with the ends of your hair while you make conversation with Taehyung about work. It's his subtle way of showing his affection without outright saying what he feels.

After dinner, his friends decide to sit around the patio and roast some marshmallows on the fire that Seokjin lit. Hana chose to go to her room with the excuse of not feeling too well so that she doesn't have to tell the truth, which is that she would rather bang her head against a wall than sit and watch Jungkook make heart eyes at you for another second.

Everyone else gets cozy outside. The sun has already set, the moon and stars illuminating the seaside while the waves crash in the distance. You sit next to Jungkook on one of the patio loveseats, the fire crackling as he holds out a charred marshmallow on a skewer.

"Mai, is everything finalised for the wedding?" Jisoo asks, snuggling up to Seokjin under a thick blanket on one of the other loveseats.

"I have my final dress fitting next week and the venue is stunning! We can't wait for you guys to see it," Mai gushes, her eyes sparkling as she talks about her wedding. "We're really excited."

"Damn, the second couple in our friend group is getting married," Yoongi sighs. "We're getting old."

"Speak for yourself," Taehyung scoffs, playfully elbowing his friend.

"Weddings are always so exciting," Jisoo sighs blissfully. "I remember how happy I was at our wedding. I think that was honestly the happiest day of my life...and when the boys were born of course," she chuckles.

You stare down at the fire burning away, your eyes slightly glossy as you zone in on the low flames. Wedding-talk always gets you a bit choked up, but the last thing you want to do is take away from Mai and Namjoon's moment, so you blink away the moisture building in your eyes and swallow the lump in your throat.

Of course Jungkook notices. He can sense something is wrong by the way your shoulders tense up, the way your eyes remain fixed on the fire. He doesn't want to draw any attention to you, so he leans closer, keeping his voice down. "Hey, everything okay?" he whispers, gently snaking an arm around your waist.

You snap out of your daze to look at him, inhaling sharply, the cool evening breeze working fast to dry your eyes. "Mhm," you nod, looking out at the ocean in the distance. "I'm fine, just...a bit tired."

"You wanna head inside?"

"No, I'm fine."

He doesn't push. He takes your word for it, even though he knows you're anything but fine. He knows you won't tell him what's on your mind, so he lets it go and gently squeezes your waist through the fabric of your dress, a simple way of saying that he's here for you through whatever it is that seems to be bothering you.

"Hey, she was hot!" Jimin exclaims exasperatedly.

"She threatened to hit you with her car," Namjoon laughs.

The conversation seems to have taken a different turn while you and Jungkook got distracted, his friends reminiscing about their failed relationships. Namjoon and Mai's upcoming wedding has them all thinking about their own love lives, some a bit less significant than others.

"What can I say, I like my girls with a touch of psycho," Jimin laughs, earning an amused snort from Taehyung.

"Hey, remember that woman Kook told us about a few years ago who was apparently sooo gorgeous," Hoseok chuckles. "What ever happened to her, man?"

"Yeah, you never told us her name," Yoongi chimes in, giving Jungkook a puzzled look. "You went on and on about how smart and-"

Jungkook clears his throat loudly, subtly signaling for them to 'zip it', his eyes briefly flickering over to you before you even catch it. "She died," he deadpans, earning a loud laugh from Hoseok.

"You're so full of bullshit," he laughs, shaking his head. He would never laugh at something so tragic, but come on. It's so obvious Jungkook just wants this topic to end.

You glance over at him, seeing the way he looks down at the wooden patio floor, his cheeks flushed. You wonder who they're talking about and why you've never heard him talk about this "gorgeous" woman before. You don't want to ask him about it. You don't want to know. Or do you? You feel weird. It's like you're...jealous or something. You're not jealous, that's ridiculous. It's just curiosity. And possibly acid reflux. Well, good for her, whoever she is.

Jungkook lets out a silent sigh of relief when the guys don't question him any further, the topic changing to something else, something you don't really take notice of because you're still too busy wondering who this woman is, or was. Maybe another professor at work? Or maybe she was a neighbour, or even just someone in passing, like a cashier at the grocery store or a waitress at a restaurant.

You're so busy wondering who it could be, you don't even realize you're shivering until he mentions it. "Are you cold?"

"A little," you murmur, rubbing your arms, feeling the goosebumps that have risen.

"I'll go get you a blanket. I'll be right back."

You watch as he gets up and goes inside the house to get you a blanket, your eyes following behind him even when he's out of your line of sight. Mai notices and scoots closer.

"Are you thinking about what Hobi said? About the woman Jungkook wouldn't stop talking about?"

"What?" Your eyebrows raise in faux surprise. "No, why would I be thinking about that?"

Mai smiles, seeing right through your lie. "Okay, well...just so you know...if Hobi actually paid enough attention, he'd remember that Jungkook went on and on about the gorgeous political science professor he met at work...but you didn't hear that from me," she whispers, playfully zipping her lips.

Mai's words make you freeze in your spot, your lips parting, the lightbulb going off in your brain. You know he finds you attractive. Obviously, he's having sex with you, for God's sake. But hearing that he spoke to his friends about you all those years ago when you first met...it feels different. It has a different connotation. You don't speak about a friend like that, do you? Well, you're not just friends, but you're not his either. Being his is a concept you've noticed reoccurring in your head a lot lately, but one you have yet to acknowledge. It's scary to think about. Being his doesn't feel scary, but the thought of being vulnerable enough to lay yourself out there to be hurt is scary.

You're snapped back to reality when Jungkook returns and sits down next to you, gently draping a warm blanket around your shoulders, an even warmer smile on his face.

"Better?" he whispers.

"Better," you whisper.

That look on his face. It makes everything feel less scary. It makes your heart beat faster and your stomach feel all tingly. It's a look you've grown accustomed to. It's a feeling you've started growing accustomed to.

The evening slowly draws to a close and everyone starts saying their goodnights, going off to their rooms. Jungkook goes to your room and you're about to join him but you're stopped by Mai in the hallway.

"Hey," she whispers. "Please don't tell Jungkook I told you about the whole 'gorgeous professor' thing. He'd probably kill me."

You chuckle, storing the information in a locked safe in your brain. "I won't say anything."

"Okay. I just don't want him to think I'm meddling, y'know."

"There's nothing to meddle in, Mai. We're just-"

"Friends...right," she chuckles, nodding in understanding, even though her facial expression tells you she still doesn't believe you. She knows there's more to the story. The chemistry between you and Jungkook is too strong to be just friends.

"Don't give me that look."

"What look? There's no look," she laughs.

"There so is a look," you chuckle, shaking your head.

"I'm just saying...I'm not trying to pry, I just...l kinda have a feeling there's more going on. There's a whole vibe between you two."

"The 'vibe' is called friendship," you deadpan.

At this point you aren't sure if you're trying to convince Mai or yourself, but it's a habit at this point to deny any romantic connection between you and Jungkook. It saves you from answering a million questions.

"Okay, okay. If you say so, I believe you," she chuckles, holding her hands up in surrender. "I'll let you go before your 'friend' starts looking for you," she teases, biding you goodnight before going upstairs to join Namjoon in the master bedroom.

You make your way into your room and close the door behind you, finding Jungkook sitting on the edge of the bed waiting for you. "Hey."

"Hey yourself," he murmurs with a soft smile, holding his arms out as you make your way over to him, his hands sliding up to hold onto your waist, his eyes looking up at you. There isn't too much light in the room except for the bedside light and the moonlight streaming in through the large window.

"What were you and Mai talking about out there?"

"Girl stuff, I can't tell you," you tease, you lips curling into a grin.

Jungkook playfully rolls his eyes, a smile playing on his lips. "Oh, girl stuff, huh? So secret and exclusive," he murmurs with a mock pout.

"Yeah, it's confidential. Sorry," you chuckle, reaching out to gently run your fingers through his hair.

"Not even a hint? C'mon, baby..."

"My lips are sealed, Jeon."

Jungkook tilts his head back to look up at you properly, a hint of yearning in his gaze. He can barely focus on your words when you look so pretty standing before him. He can't wait to break in the bed with you, but he'll remain patient for now.

"Yeah?" he grins, biting his bottom lip. "Maybe I could get you to open them, hm?"

"Behave yourself," you whisper, your eyes slowly trailing down to his lips and back up. "Your friends are just down the hall."

"So? Let them hear us, I don't care."

You have to mentally remind yourself that you're not alone and that you don't want his friends hearing the things the two of you get up to behind closed doors. You muster up your strength to pull away from him, feeling like a magnet resisting his pull.

"You're crazy. I'm gonna go get ready for bed." You go to get your pyjamas from the closet and make your way to the bathroom, closing the door behind you.

Jungkook waits for you while you change, chewing on his bottom lip as he stares at the bathroom door. He slowly removes his shirt and his shoes, leaning back on his hands. He looks up as you emerge from the bathroom, standing in the open doorframe, your face glowing from the serum you used, your toothbrush in your mouth. He sees the way your eyes trail down his bare chest, the way your pupils dilate ever so subtly.

"You look cute," he murmurs with a lazy grin, his head tilted to the side as he watches you from the bed.

"Don't I always?" you tease, spitting the toothpaste foam into the sink before rinsing your mouth and walking out of the bathroom.

"Yes, but...I like you like this, in your cute pyjamas, your hair up, bare-faced," he murmurs, getting up from the bed to make his way over to you. He stands behind you at the sink, his hands trailing around your waist, his chin resting on your shoulder.

"You gonna let me take these cute pyjamas off you?" he whispers. "I'll do that thing you like with my tongue."

His words go straight to your core, a faint blush spreading across your cheeks. You turn around to face him, your hands resting upon his bare chest as you look up into his eyes.

"What do you say? You wanna break in the bed?"

You look up into his eyes, your heart telling you to give in and let him do whatever he wants with you, your brain telling you that the walls are thin, that it's risky. Taehyung and Jimin's room is right next door, and if you can hear their muffled conversation, they'll be able to hear all the things Jungkook so badly wants to do to you.

"Maybe we should...wait...until we get back home..."

His brows furrow in confusion. That's not what he was expecting.

"Wait, what? Why?"

"Your friends could hear us."

"___, I meant what I said. I don't care if they hear us."

"But I care," you whisper, gently cupping his cheeks in your hands. "I just...I don't think we should risk it."

He sighs, but he understands why you're hesitant. He already let it slip to Taehyung that you're hooking up, breaking his promise of keeping it between the two of you. He doesn't want the rest of his friends finding out, especially not by hearing the two of you have sex. It would just bring about a million questions that he himself does not have the answers to.

"Okay. I understand," he sighs, pressing a quick kiss to your forehead. "I'll just take a quick shower and get ready for bed."

He closes the bathroom door once you leave, but he doesn't lock it. A part of him wants you to walk back in and tell him that you changed your mind. He wants you to stop worrying so much and just let him love you the way he wants to. When he stands under the hot stream of water and lathers himself in his body wash, he wishes you were in there with him, letting him lather your body as well. He wishes you'd allow yourself to be taken care of. Sure he takes care of your sexual needs, but who runs you a nice warm bath after you've had a stressful day at work? Who makes you soup when you're sick or holds you in the middle of the night when you're having a bad dream? He could be that person for you if you'd just let him.

He wants to say 'fuck it' and change your mind, convince you to just let loose of the reins for a bit, but when he opens the bathroom door and finds you laying on your back in bed, with tired eyes and a soft smile on your face, all he really wants is to just lay by your side. He doesn't need the sex. A simple touch of your hand on his cheek is enough for him if it means he gets to be close to you.

He gets in bed, propping his head up on his hand, his eyes looking down at you. His hand snakes around to the side of your waist, keeping his grip gentle. "Those eyes look heavy. I thought people are supposed to stay up late on vacation."

"Yeah, when you're twenty-one. I'm not twenty-one anymore," you mumble through a soft chuckle, your sleepy eyes gazing up at him.

"Right, I forgot you're sixty-three with a hip replacement."

You let out a huff of laughter, the sound bringing a wide grin to his face. As your laughter dies down, you notice the way he looks at you, as if he's hypnotised by you.

"What?"

Jungkook's lips curl into a little smile when he realises he's been caught staring. "What?" he echoes, playing coy. "Can't I just admire a good-looking view?" he quips, his tone light and playful.

"I suppose I can't blame you," you murmur, your grin turning a bit more playful. "I'd stare too if I were you."

"Oh, you're so modest, aren't you?" He scoffs.

You chuckle, your eyes fluttering closed, and Jungkook's heart swells in his chest. Your smile is so soft, so genuine, it's infectious. He can't tear his eyes away from you, the way your lashes lay gently against your cheeks, the way your lips curve up at the edges. He reaches out without thinking, gently brushing a stray lock of hair away from your face, his touch light and tentative.

"___," he whispers.

"Yeah?"

There's a moment of utter silence before he speaks, his voice soft and delicate.

"You're an incredibly beautiful woman."

Suddenly, words are lost on you. You can't seem to find a response that would appropriately correlate with the way his words make you feel, so you show him instead. You lean in and press a gentle, tender kiss to his lips, your hand reaching up to cup the side of his jaw. It's slow and soft, and it steals his breath for a second. When you pull away, his eyes look slightly dreamy and his smile looks a bit dazed.

"Can we make that a regular thing?"

"What?"

"I mean...can we forget about the whole no kissing outside of sex thing? I just wanna kiss you...whenever it feels right..."

You pause, contemplating his words. You can't lie and say that you don't want that, because lord knows you do.

"We'll see," you whisper, smiling as you lean in for another kiss, and then another.

He knows what that smile means. It means you want it too, you're just too damn stubborn to outright admit it, as if him kissing you is so scandalous. He doesn't care, your unclear answer doesn't upset him. The way your lips can't seem to stray from his for longer than a few seconds tells him everything he needs to know.

"We'll see, huh?" He smiles, wrapping his arm around your waist to pull you closer to him, rolling onto his back with your body halfway on top of him. He enjoys the simple intimacy of just having your head on his chest, his fingers languidly running through your hair.

"Yeah, we'll see," you whisper, laying your head down on his chest, where it remains for the rest of the night.

You're very cautious about cuddling. You don't cuddle after sex, and don't usually cuddle outside of sex either. Your heart is far too weak for that and you know that one good cuddle from the right man will have you throwing all your rules out the window, so when you wake up and that man isn't cuddling you like you had secretly hoped he would, you're met with disappointment.

You slowly open your eyes, blinking in the bright morning light that streams through the large window, the sea air drifting through your nose. As you come to, you notice that the other side of the bed is empty. Your thoughts linger on the person who is supposed to be on the other side of the bed, and you find yourself missing him, yearning to see his face, his fluffy hair, his pretty eyes. You slowly push yourself up into a sitting position, contemplating getting out of bed to find him.

Just as you're about to get up, however, the door to the bedroom opens and Jungkook walks in, carrying two mugs of coffee. As soon as his eyes land on you in bed, his face lights up with a smile.

"You're awake," he murmurs, his voice still a little groggy from sleep. He walks over to the bed and hands you one of the mugs.

"You went to get me coffee?" You still feel a bit groggy as you look down at the mug in your hand, smelling the delicious aroma.

"Of course," he smiles, sliding onto the edge of the bed beside you. "I figured you might need some caffeine to fully wake up."

Jungkook watches as you take a tentative sip of the coffee, enjoying the feeling of seeing you this early in the morning, still so sleepy, your hair a little messy, your lips slightly swollen, your cheeks flushed. He cherishes these moments, seeing you so vulnerable and unguarded in the morning. It's a side of you that he rarely gets to see, and he'll never take it for granted.

"Once you finish that, you have to get up because we're heading down to the beach around 9:30-ish."

"Damn...Hoseok really takes his volleyball seriously, huh?"

"He does," he chuckles, shaking his head in amusement. "I'm gonna go get ready while you have your coffee."

He rounds the bed to get to his suitcase, pulling out his swimming shorts before making his way to the bathroom to change, giving you a moment to yourself.

You find yourself missing his presence as soon as the bathroom door closes, which is odd. You're not a clingy person. You like your space. You don't like spending every minute of every day with someone. Yet, here you are, impatiently waiting for his return after a simple trip to the bathroom to change. Maybe it's because you know that when he walks out of that bathroom, he'll be wearing half the amount of clothing he wore going in, or maybe your impatience is your body going through withdrawals after asking him to withold sex until you get home, which you think you're starting to regret.

You don't know what's going on with you lately. First, last night's jealousy at the thought of Jungkook finding another woman attractive (and the immediate relief when said woman turned out to be you), then the cuddling in bed, and then the disappointment of not waking up in his arms this morning.

It's not long before the bathroom door opens and he walks out in all his glory, his torso bare and toned, his shorts adorning his hips. A fresh cup of coffee and a nice view of a very attractive, half-naked man all within twenty minutes of waking up is surely a good way to start the day.

His presence alone is confirmation that you definitely regret asking him to withhold sex until you get home. It's confirmation that you were jealous last night, and that you were disappointed when he wasn't in bed with you when you woke up this morning.

"Actually, uh..." He stops in his tracks, his attention back on you. "You guys go and I'll meet you at the beach in a little bit."

"Are you sure?" He tilts his head in confusion.

"Yeah, you go, I'll be down in a bit."

He's hesitant to leave, having planned on going together, but he assumes you just want to catch up on a few more minutes of rest. "Okay...I'll see you down there," he murmurs with a smile before making his way out to join the others.

You set your coffee down on the nightstand and plop back down on the bed, your eyes staring up at the ceiling. You have so much going on in your head and your heart, and the two won't stop butting heads. You know this feeling. You know what love feels like. You've been there before, and you didn't like how it ended, which is exactly why you locked the big padlock on your heart and threw away the key. Yet, when you close your eyes and Jungkook's face pops up in your head, and his voice rings through your ears, a soft smile works its way onto your face.

When you're with him, you just want to kiss his cheek and listen to him ramble on and on about international trade and supply and demand. You want to suck his dick, then hold his hand and tell him how smart, and kind, and pretty he is. Oh how pretty he is. You want to partake in all of his nerdy interests with him and ask him questions about it just to see him get excited.

You threw that damn key away and you thought you'd never need it again, but somehow, Jungkook must have stumbled upon it and picked it up because it seems to be in his possession.

You can't stay here and let your thoughts run wild any longer. You have to get out of this room and get down to that beach.

It's still quite early yet the sun is already scorching, the sand warm and toasty beneath your feet. The smell of salty air and sunscreen fills your senses, a perfect combination for a summer day. You spot Mai in her cute bikini, tanning on the sand, so you make your way over to her while some of the others set up a volleyball net, Hoseok and Namjoon's excited chattering echoing in the distance.

"Wooow, hot mama," Mai hoots, her chin resting in her palm while she tans her back, her sunglasses pushed up to the top of her head. The 'hotness' she's referring to might be the red bikini adorning your body, the red bikini you picked out with Jungkook's reaction in mind...but who knows for sure?

"Speak for yourself," you chuckle, laying down beside her, the sun beating down on your back. "I bet Namjoon loves that bikini, huh?"

"Honey, he'll be taking this bikini off of me later," she cackles, shooting a flirty wave over to her fiancé in the distance.

Namjoon's eyes aren't the only ones occupied. Jungkook can't help but stare, his eyes hungrily raking over your form. He's supposed to be partaking in a conversation with Taehyung and Jimin, but he's so distracted, his thoughts consumed by the sight of you in that bikini, his gaze firmly planted to your smooth skin, the roundness of your ass, those legs. It hasn't even been a full 24 hours yet and the lack of sex is already proving to be rather difficult.

"What're you guys talking about?" There's that damn nagging voice, Hana joining their conversation, the conversation Jungkook couldn't care less about right now.

"Jimin and I were talking about what we'd do if we were the only people left on earth," Taehyung quips. "And Jungkook appears to no longer be with us."

Jungkook lets out a scoff, shaking his head in amusement, his eyes still glued to you while you converse with Mai in the distance.

Hana follows his line of sight and subtly rolls her eyes, letting out a soft sigh of frustration. "Kookie, what would you do if you and I were the only people left on earth?"

"Probably buy a gun," he mutters under his breath before walking off in your direction, leaving behind two highly amused friends and an offended Hana.

He makes his way over, sitting down next to you without a word, both of your faces turning into a grin at the mere proximity. "Hey ladies," he murmurs, getting comfortable while a few of the guys play a practice round of volleyball.

"Kook," Mai nods in acknowledgement, her eyes shifting to the water ahead. "I was just saying how hot your friend is."

"Mm, she's okay, I guess," he shrugs with a teasing grin, leaning back on his hands.

"I'm right here you know," you scoff.

"Trust me, I see you."

You're lucky Mai's eyes are on the water a few feet away, because if she were to turn her head and look at Jungkook, she'd see his hand trailing up your thigh, giving your asscheek a quick squeeze before you silently swat it away, a bashful smile on your face. You turn your head to him to mouth a silent 'stop' but he simply shoots you a mischievous wink.

That face paired with that wink gets you, and you might have let him continue if Hoseok hadn't called everyone to start the game of volleyball.

Everyone gathers and divides into two teams on opposite sides of the net, the air already filled with playful bickering and competitive banter. Jungkook, Taehyung, Jimin and you are on one side, while Namjoon, Mai, Hoseok and Hana are on the other.

The game begins and the competitive spirit sparks, everyone focused on their team winning. When you agreed to play, you didn't expect the game to be so intense, full of spikes, blocks and a few dives. You especially didn't expect to bond this well with his friends, the group making you feel like you've known them for years. You share high-fives and amusing words with his friends every time something exciting happens, feeling the synergy in the air.

Jungkook watches you as you run across the sand to get to the ball, admiring your agility. You certainly make a good team, sharing a bit of a competitive streak. The two of you work together to score against the other team in a tough back and forth, your excitement too much to contain when Namjoon fumbles the ball on their side of the net.

The point given to your team is shoved to the back of your mind when Jungkook rushes over to wrap his arms around your waist, spinning you off your feet. The adrenaline mixed with the contact of his skin on yours sends a dizzying, electrifying feeling through your body. The two of you laugh and cheer while Taehyung and Jimin shout taunts at the other team, the others playfully 'boo'ing and rolling their eyes.

Hana feels her face heat up in a simmering rage of jealousy and frustration, her eyes narrowing as she watches the two of you, the flirty undertones, his winks every time you score, the bashful smiles all starting to grate at her.

"Not fair, ___'s good! I want her on our team," Hana calls out, clearly up to something.

"But-" Jimin is about to protest but she's already made up her mind.

"___, why don't you swap with Hobi for the rest of the game."

"Wha- hey! I thought I was good," Hoseok laughs.

Hana's tone is just a little too sweet. You can feel the shift in her demeanour, and you know it's not just about the game anymore. You glance over at Jungkook, seeing the crease between his eyebrows, the tension in his jaw. It's clear that he is not happy.

"No way, ___'s our star player," Taehyung calls out, playfully nudging your arm, oblivious to the underlying tension.

Hana doesn't back down, her smile turning sly. "Oh whatever, don't be so greedy," she chides, her voice sickly sweet. "Come on, ___."

You don't want to reject her in front of everyone, so you offer her a weak smile, feeling put on the spot. "Sure," you mutter, reluctantly swapping places with Hoseok. You shoot Jungkook a confused look, his expression mirroring yours.

The game starts back up, but Jungkook is still suspicious of her intentions. He knows what she's like, and he can practically see the gears turning in her head.

The game goes on, everyone playing as normal, the vibes more or less okay, until they aren't. Jimin hits the ball in your direction and you run a few quick steps to reach it, when suddenly there's a foot blocking your way, sending you tumbling to the ground, your body landing in the sand, your ankle taking a bit of a beating.

"Oh shit, ___, I'm sorry," Hana gasps, the emotion in her voice not reaching her face. Everyone looks concerned, worried looks crossing their faces.

Jungkook reacts within seconds, sprinting over to you as soon as you hit the sand, his heart racing in his chest, his eyes wide with worry. He crouches down to check on you, his hands gentle as he inspects you for any injuries. "Are you okay? Does anything hurt?"

You look up at his face, seeing the genuine worry in his eyes. "My ankle hurts a bit but-"

Before you can get your sentence out, he's already checking your ankle, looking like a first aider who desperately wants a raise.

"It's fine, really, it's nothing to worry about."

He looks into your eyes, his movements coming to a halt, his chest rising and falling from rushing over to you. He doesn't care that his friends are watching, he doesn't care that his feelings are as clear as day. All he cares about right now is you and your ankle.

"You're sure?"

You nod, slowly getting up. You take a step, but your ankle is tender, causing you to hiss and stumble. Jungkook reaches out to steady you, his hands holding onto your waist, his grip firm.

"___, I think you should rest your ankle, honey," Mai murmurs with a sympathetic smile.

"Yeah, maybe put some ice on it," Namjoon nods, looking concerned.

"I'm sorry. It was an accident," Hana pipes up, a faint, apologetic smile on her face. The apology is almost as fake as her nose.

Jungkook's eyes narrow when he looks over at her, his anger showing clearly on his face. A muscle in his jaw twitches as he bites back a response. As much as he wants to lash out at her for purposefully hurting you, he holds his tongue, not giving her the attention she wants.

"I'm gonna go take her back to the house to get some ice on her ankle," he says, his tone brokering no argument. "You all can continue playing." The rest of the group nods in agreement, their faces filled with sympathy and concern. Hana stays silent.

Your injury really isn't that serious for you to not be able to walk, just causing a little limp, but when Jungkook decides you need to be carried bridal style, you don't protest. You actually have to hold back a giggle when his arm muscles flex as he carries you, quickly composing yourself.

He cradles you against his chest as he takes you back to the house, his grip on you firm but gentle. Once you reach the house, he sets you down on the couch, propping up your ankle with a pillow. He disappears into the kitchen, returning moments later with an ice pack, which he gently applies to your ankle. He takes a seat on the edge of the couch, his eyes fixed on your face, studying your expression for any signs of pain or discomfort.

He notices the small hiss that escapes your lips, his gaze softening as he looks at you, his hand resting on the ice pack, keeping it in place. "Does it hurt?"

"It's just really cold," you chuckle, looking down at the ice pack.

"Cold is better than pain, right?"

"Yeah, cold is better than pain," you smile.

You feel him remove the ice pack, watching him inspect your ankle with so much care, so much tenderness. Seeing him run over as soon as you got hurt, having him take care of you like this...it's a glimpse of the care you haven't allowed yourself to indulge in for a long time.

"Thank you," you whisper as you look up into his eyes, your body language a bit more vulnerable.

His gaze is soft, his expression filled with a tenderness that matches his touch. "Of course."

There's a moment, just a brief one, where time seems to still, his eyes holding yours, the space between you feeling almost electrified with a quiet intimacy.

"You got over there pretty fast," you murmur softly.

"Of course, I was worried about you."

He leans in, his face inching closer to yours, his fingers gently brushing some of your hair out of your face before he cups your cheek in his palm. "I don't ever want to see you hurt...no matter how minor..."

"I'm okay," you whisper, a faint smile on your lips, your nose just barely brushing against his.

"How's the pain?"

"What pain?"

He rolls his eyes, a small huff of amusement leaving his lips. "I'm serious," he whispers, a hint of a smile on his face, his thumb stroking your cheek. "You're sure it's okay?"

"I'm sure." You voice is soft, and the kiss he presses to your lips is even softer, your mouths moving in sync. Your lips might not be able to say everything you're feeling, but the kiss sure does. It's a silent confession that he cares for you and you care for him, more deeply than either of you can put into words.

He pulls back ever so slightly, his forehead resting against yours, his eyes still closed after that kiss, but the sound of the guys returning from the beach is like a cold shower, both of you suddenly pulled back into reality, the moment between you interrupted.

He holds the ice pack firmly against your ankle but his eyes are on your face, trying to read your expression, trying to find even a hint of what you're thinking or feeling. His heart is racing, but he forces himself to appear calm, to mask the flurry of emotions he's going through.

The guys burst through the door, their voices loud and full of laughter, a stark contrast to the quiet and charged atmosphere between you and Jungkook. They're blissfully oblivious to what they've interrupted, their brains still on the beach. They all make sure to check if you're okay, the attention thankfully on your ankle and not on Jungkook's and your flushed cheeks and flustered faces.

It's around 7pm when you find yourself on the patio, curled up on one of the loveseats, listening to Mai and Jisoo discuss wedding preparations. The sun is halfway set along the horizon, casting pretty pink and orange hues across the sky.

Some of the others have already retired to their rooms, probably knocked out after eating the mountain of dumplings Yoongi made for dinner. You had contemplated speaking to Hana about what happened on the beach, but you ultimately decided against it. You know that her intention was to hurt you, but you're an adult and you refuse to indulge in her petty games.

"Are you stressed out? I know I was when I was getting married," Jisoo chuckles, taking a sip of her tea as she curls up one of the patio sofas.

"Big time," Mai sighs. "Don't get me wrong, I'm so excited to finally marry Joon, but wedding planning is a lot more stressful than I thought it would be."

You listen as Mai vents, going on about the caterers, and the venue, and the dress. You're a part of the conversation, but you shift in and out of being emotionally present. Your eyes drift off into the distance, staring out at the water with a distant look on your face, the pain in your ankle long forgotten.

"Joon and I even got into an argument last month because we went over budget...or, well, I went over budget," she scoffs.

"That's normal," Jisoo shrugs, giving her a reassuring smile. "Jin and I had a few arguments throughout the planning. I get it. As long as you don't let the stress come between you."

You might be here physically, but mentally, you've checked out. It's as if your thoughts have grown legs and ran off on their own, taunting you with Jisoo's words.

As long as you don't let the stress come between you.

Jisoo's words take you back to that time in your life, when you thought your life was perfect. It was perfect. You had the man of your dreams, a ring, and the promise of a long life together. Then you 'let the stress come between you'. At least that was Sunghoon's excuse for having sex with a friend of yours. He told you he was stressed out and the wedding planning just became too much for him, and you were always studying for your masters, never giving him the attention he deserved.

It's a strange thing, grieving. To grieve, not a person, but rather a bond that you spent years building with a person, is a feeling you can't quite explain. Grieving the loss of a relationship is not linear. The sadness and the anger come and go. Some days you're completely fine, laughing and going out, feeling like yourself again. Some days you're on your bedroom floor, crying as you clutch onto the wedding dress you never got the wear. You grieve Sunghoon, not because he died, but because that boy you fell for at sixteen no longer exists.

You envy Mai and Namjoon's relationship. It's clear how much they love each other, how much he loves her. It's clear how much he values and respects her, how his eyes don't prioritize anything that isn't her, how kind and gentle he is with her. It's a reminder of the love you once had. The love that was crumpled up and thrown in your face on a random Tuesday evening.

You have to excuse yourself when the feeling starts to get a bit too much, all this wedding-talk making your eyes sting. You go down to the beach, the sand feeling rough beneath your feet, the air much colder now that the sun is fully set. You sit down with your knees held to your chest, your eyes looking out at the water, the waves crashing loudly. It's what your brain sounds like. So, so loud. It's overwhelming and the lump in your throat is starting to hurt.

Then there's a voice behind you and it's like everything goes still, your thoughts finally quieting down.

"There you are," he murmurs, his voice soft and gentle, the sound enough to warm you up in the cold breeze. "Mai and Jisoo said you were out here."

You don't respond, your heart feeling a little lighter when he sits down next to you, his eyes trailing from the water to your face.

"Why are you out here alone, hm?"

"Just...needed some air."

"There's air in the house too, you know."

A faint smile flashes across your face before it fades, your eyes trained straight ahead of you. "It's better to think out here."

"I suppose that's true."

He looks over at you, sensing the sadness in your eyes, in your demeanour. He doesn't know what it is, but he wants to protect you from it. It might be greedy of him, but he wants to pick apart your brain and understand exactly what it is that's burdening you. He wants to know your past, your fears, your regrets. He doesn't want to push, but he wants to be let in.

"___, what's making you so sad?"

You scoff humourlessly. "What makes you think I'm sad?"

"Don't do that."

"Do what?"

"Don't hide from me," he murmurs, looking at you with so much tenderness. "I can't force you to tell me what's bothering you...but I know it's not nothing."

"You think you've got me all figured out, huh?"

"Maybe."

He doesn't even know the half of it.

You stay silent, chewing on your bottom lip. You can't lie to him, and that kinda scares you. It scares you that you feel so strongly for him, strong enough to want to completely bare your soul for him.

"Listening to Mai and Jisoo talk about the wedding...it reminded me of..."

He doesn't rush you. He lets you take your time, holding his breath as he waits, sensing you want to open up about whatever it is that's weighing so heavily on your shoulders.

"It reminded me of a love I lost years ago..."

He isn't sure exactly what he feels. A part of him is relieved that you're finally letting him in, finally showing him this vulnerability. It's all he's ever wanted, yet the thought of a man hurting you, a man who once had the privilege of loving you (the privilege he so desperately longs for) and still throwing that away...it makes his head spin. This is the first time he's heard of you being with anyone in the past, and it reminds him of how little you've actually shared with him about yourself and your past.

"Do you...want to tell me about it?" He keeps his voice low, not wanting to speak too loudly in fear of scaring you away.

You take a deep breath before speaking.

"He was my first love...we met in high school. We were together for...a long time," you murmur, looking down at a vague spot in the sand. "And he cheated on me."

You don't tell him everything, just enough for him to get an understanding without sharing too much.

Your confession almost knocks the air out of his lungs, his brows furrowing, his eyes growing wide. He's angry. He's furious at the man who dared to betray you like that, he's confused why anyone would do something like that to a woman like you. He's sad, so terribly sad that you had to go through that. He can't imagine what that must have felt like, the pain you must have gone through. It pains him to think about you ever being hurt like that.

"___, I'm so sorry," he whispers, slowly inching closer to you.

"Don't be," you murmur, the faint smile on your lips not quite reaching your eyes. "It was a long time ago."

"That doesn't change the fact that it was wrong. ___, you deserve...everything. You deserve someone who wakes up everyday and feels blessed to have you, who would go to the ends of the earth for you..."

There's a pause, the air feeling thick.

"You deserve a man who loves you with all his heart."

His words fade into a quiet whisper, as if he's just bared his deepest secrets. He looks at the side of your face, his heart pounding in his chest.

"___," he whispers, practically begging you to look at him.

Your gaze meets his, your eyes shining with a thin sheen of unshed tears. His words hold so much feeling, so much desperation.

"Yes?" It's almost too soft to reach his ears, your voice trembling.

He leans in, his face inching closer, his fingers gently brushing your hair behind your ear.

"If you were mine...really mine..." He takes a sharp inhale through his nose, his eyes boring into yours. "I'd never break your heart."

It's like a dam breaks.

You close the gap between you, pressing your lips to his, your eyes squeezing shut, a tear finally rolling down your cheek, quickly being brushed away by his thumb. You crawl into his lap, the kiss growing passionate, your fingers sliding up into his hair, gripping onto his strands to steady yourself. You feel everything and nothing and all that is in between.

You love him. You really do, and it took you four years of knowing him to admit it to yourself. It's scary and it's uncertain, but it's love and it's real and you can't keep running from it.

It makes you shiver, the overwhelming feeling mixed with the cold evening air.

"Are you cold?" He asks, pulling away to look into your eyes, his thumbs gently stroking your cheeks.

"A little."

"Why don't we get you in a nice warm shower?"

You know what his suggestion implies, and you can't deny yourself of the pleasures of loving him and letting him love you.

"Okay."

You get up and make your way back to the house. It's completely still, everyone else already in their rooms. Jungkook leads you to your room and shuts the door, locking it for good measure. He looks over at you, the two of you silently communicating that you want this. He crosses the room and takes your face in his hands, crashing his lips into yours.

You walk backwards to the en-suite, pulling away only for him to open the shower door and turn the water on, the hot water slowly filling the room with steam. He turns back to you, searching your eyes for any hesitation.

"Are you coming in with me?" Your voice gives away your desires, your eyes begging him to give you what you want.

"Do you want me to?"

"I do," you murmur, leaning in to press a few quick pecks to his lips. You pull away and hold your arms up, a faint smile playing on your lips.

He gets the hint and reaches for the hem of your top, slowly pulling it up over your head, with big smiles spread across both of your faces. He reaches behind you to undo your bra, slowly sliding the material down your shoulders, letting it fall to the ground as he presses soft kisses to your collarbones. He kisses down your body until he is kneeling before you, his eyes trailing up to your face. "God, you're gorgeous," he mutters softly, hooking his fingers into the sides of your pants, pulling the fabric down your legs.

He presses a gentle peck to your lower stomach beneath your belly button, sending a shiver down your spine. He slowly pulls your panties down, tossing it aside with the rest of your clothes.

He stands up straight and smiles as you start undressing him, pulling his shirt over his head before moving onto his pants and boxers, letting the clothing pool at his feet.

He presses his lips to yours and leads you into the shower, the warm water cascading down your bodies. You wrap your arms around his neck, playing with the wet hair at the base of his neck. "I thought we were waiting until we got home," he whispers, a smile tugging at his lips.

"I'm tired of waiting," you whisper, moaning as he kisses down your neck.

His hands slide over your body, the water making everything slick, his fingers tracing along your curves. He pulls your body against his, his mouth moving up your neck to your ear, where he takes your earlobe into his mouth. "I'm gonna make you feel so good...gonna make you forget all about that other asshole."

He gently presses you up against the shower wall, kissing a line down the side of your neck. He holds onto your waist to steady you while his other hand finds its way between your legs, running his middle finger through your folds.

"So wet, baby," he mumbles into your neck, his voice a low rumble.

He gathers some of your slick on his fingers and starts rubbing slow circles over your clit. You moan softly and tilt your head back against the wall, your fingers gripping his biceps. He makes sure you're wet enough before sliding a finger into your pussy, slowly thrusting it in and out.

"F-fuck," you moan, your eyes fluttering shut.

"That feel good, baby?"

You nod.

"Want another?"

"Mhmm," you sigh blissfully, feeling him insert a second finger, his lips and tongue attached to your neck.

He groans at the sound of your slick, his fingers moving in a 'come here' motion, pulling soft moans and sighs from your lips. "You like that?" he mumbles, his voice a little deeper, his breathing a little ragged.

"Y-yeah," you manage to breathe out, your eyes squeezing shut and your eyebrows furrowing as the pleasure builds. Your nails dig into his biceps when his fingers pick up the pace, the knot in your stomach starting to tighten.

"Gonna...c-cum..."

He smiles against your neck as starts rubbing circles over your clit with his thumb, his middle and ring finger moving faster. "Cum for me, baby."

Your muscles tense up as the knot unravels, your orgasm washing over you with a loud moan. He slows his fingers, helping you through it by easing the pressure on your clit. "You did so good for me," he whispers, pressing a kiss to your lips, his tongue licking into your mouth.

You hand trails down his abdomen until it reaches its destination, wrapping your fingers around his semi-hard cock. He moans into the kiss, slipping his fingers out of your pussy to grip your hips, needing something to ground him while you stroke his cock.

"Wanna make you feel good," you whisper into the kiss, trailing your lips down his chin and neck, moving lower until you're down on your knees in front of him.

He looks down at you with his bottom lip caught between his teeth, his stomach muscles tensing in anticipation. He slides his fingers through your wet hair, resting his free hand against the wall. He watches as you part your lips, his cock twitching in excitement.

"Gonna take it like a good girl?"

You nod up at him before pressing a teasing kiss to the tip, listening to the soft moan that falls from his lips. You start stroking the shaft, batting your eyelashes up at him.

"Fuck, that feels good," he sighs, taking hold of your chin, pushing his thumb into your mouth. He groans as you swirl your tongue around it, the way you would with his cock.

You suck on his thumb, making sure to hold eye contact while you stroke his cock, the tip already starting to leak a bit of pre-cum. Once you get him fully hard, you release his thumb from your mouth and replace it with his cock, feeling the delicious weight on your tongue.

He watches as you start sucking him, focusing your tongue on the head before taking him all the way to the back of your throat, pulling a deep groan from his throat. He fists his hand in your hair, letting out shaky breaths as the pleasure flows through him. You're a sight to see, with wet hair and a mouth full of cock.

He can't decide if he wants to cum down your throat or fuck you against the wall. He likes the sound of the latter.

"Baby...b-baby, stop," he mutters breathlessly, tugging at your hair to get you to release him from your mouth.

"What's wrong?"

"I need to be inside you," he breathes, helping you up before he slides his hands to the back of your thighs, lifting you up in one swift motion. "Need this pussy," he mutters, pressing you against the wall to grind his cock against your sopping folds.

You wrap your arms around his neck, moaning as he grinds into you, welcoming his lips against yours. He reaches down to align his cock with your entrance, slowly pushing into you with a guttural moan.

"F-fucking Christ, you feel so good," he groans, his fingers digging into your thighs as he starts thrusting into you, his cock filling you up like nothing and no one else can.

Having him inside you is something you'll never get tired of, his cock fitting in you like you were moulded just for him. You were made for him, and he was made for you. His thrusts make your head spin, the steam coming from the shower making everything feel more romantic, more intense.

"You're perfect," he sighs, his voice almost too quiet to hear if it weren't for the fact that his words are whispered directly into your ear. "So...so beautiful..."

All you can do in return is moan and whimper as his thrusts get deeper, the pleasure getting stronger. You lose all ability to form a coherent sentence, your eyes squeezing shut as he pounds into you. He slides his tongue into your mouth, gently digging his teeth into your bottom lip, giving it a little tug.

His thrusts start getting faster, sloppier, an indication of his impending high. Your own orgasm starts creeping closer, his cock hitting that special spot inside you that makes you turn to mush. "Oh my God, don't stop...so...so close..."

"Me too, baby...gonna cum s-so hard..."

He thrusts harder, hitting that same spot over and over again, his nails digging into your flesh. The coil in your stomach tightens, threatening to snap with each deep thrust. The air is thick with passion and desire, your body trembling in his hold, your moans bouncing off the wet bathroom walls.

"Fuck, I'm gonna cum," he groans deeply, holding onto your thigh while his free arm wraps around your waist, holding onto you like you're his oxygen supply. "Oh f-fuck, ___!"

A few sloppy thrusts and your walls start spasming around his cock, triggering his orgasm. He paints your walls with thick white ropes of pleasure, his arms clutching your body like you might disappear into thin air.

"Holy sh-shit," he sighs, both of you slowly coming down from your high, giving you a few slow thrusts before pulling out, letting his cum leak out of you.

You're completely spent, smiling like a giddy schoolgirl, your cheeks flushed, your heart hammering in your chest. The warm water runs over your bodies, slowly bringing your brain back down to earth. "Let's just stay like this for a little while," you whisper, cupping his cheeks in your hands before pressing a light kiss to his swollen lips.

"Okay," he smiles, pressing soft pecks over your cheeks, your nose, your chin. He brushes some of your wet hair out of your face, looking at you like you hung the stars in his sky.

He slowly puts you down and reaches for your body wash, lathering some on your loofah. You're about to take it from him but he stops you. "Let me."

You look up into his eyes, seeing how much this means to him. Sex is one thing, but what you do after says everything. He doesn't just want the sex, and neither do you. He doesn't want this moment to end here, and neither do you, so you let him lather your body in the fragrant body wash because this is about so much more than sex.

He washes you with so much care, making sure the soap reaches every inch of your body. The last man you let wash you after sex was Sunghoon, but with Jungkook it somehow feels different. His hands are softer, he touches you more gently, and his gaze travels down your body like you're a work of art and he is lucky enough to get to lay his eyes upon you. It's difficult to just forget about the past and the heartbreak, but in this moment with Jungkook, you want to try to take the steps to move forward.

You rinse yourself off under the hot stream of water before taking his loofah from the shower hook and lathering it with your body wash, returning the favour. You run the soapy loofah over his body, running your free hand over his muscles, a soft smile settling onto both of your faces. You run your hand over his chest, feeling his heartbeat beneath the firm flesh. You lean in and press a soft kiss to the area, kissing all the way up to his lips.

The two of you stay like that for a while, just kissing under the warm water, the steam surrounding your bodies, partially blurring your vision. This level of intimacy feels so different and new to the two of you, and yet it feels so right, like you were always meant to be with him like this, like you were born to be loved by him.

You love him, and it feels like too big of a mouthful to say in this moment, too heavy on your tongue, too frightening for your brain to comprehend, so you keep it stored away for the time being. Admitting it to yourself is enough for now.

You stand kissing under the water until it starts turning cold, so you turn it off and step out. He dries you off with a fresh towel before moving onto himself, letting you dry his hair with your hairdryer. The two of you get ready for bed together, which again, is new for you. You stand next to him and brush your teeth, stealing glances at him in the mirror every chance you get.

You change into a t-shirt and panties and slip into bed with him, facing him while he languidly rubs your back beneath your shirt, his body bare except for a fresh pair of boxers. He smells like your body wash, like his skin has been stained by you.

"___, about what I said on the beach," he murmurs, chewing on his bottom lip.

"What about it?" you ask nervously, seeking his eyes for any sign that he regrets it.

"I meant every word I said," he whispers, leaning in to nudge his nose against yours.

"I know, Jungkook," you murmur, your voice barely reaching his ears before your lips seek out his in the dark room.

He kisses you until you're too sleepy to kiss back anymore, and when you fall asleep in his arms without protesting, your face reflecting how peaceful you feel, he finally rests. He knows what you're too afraid to say out loud, and he doesn't need to hear it from your lips to know that it's real.

He will continue to love you in silence until you're ready to be loved out loud.

The next morning, you wake up to sound of the waves crashing, the birds chirping, and the feeling of the sun on your face and Jungkook's lips on your cheek. You have to admit it's a damn good way to wake up.

"Morning," he mumbles, his voice still laced with sleep, the deep rumble going straight through your body. You've never had a thing for the 'morning voice' guys tend to exaggerate to sound sexy, but damn. He could read your grocery list after waking up and you'd get down on your knees for him.

"Morning," you smile, your eyes still feeling too heavy to open fully.

"How'd you sleep?"

"Really good," you murmur softly, holding the side of his jaw in the palm of your hand, feeling his warm skin. "You?"

"I slept amazing last night," he grins, his hand slowly sliding down your thigh to hook it over his hip, letting you feel his bulge.

At that, your eyes open, letting out a sleepy chuckle. "Someone's up early," you tease. "Is 'little Jungkook' excited to see me?"

"Don't call him little, it'll hurt his feelings," he groans, pressing his face into your neck as he rolls you onto your back, laying his weight on you. He presses a few lazy kisses to your neck, slowly grinding his hips into you. "He's big and manly."

"Oh, I'm sorry," you murmur, sighing as the head of his cock rubs over your clit through the thin fabric of your underwear. You loosely wrap your arms around his neck, letting your eyes flutter shut once more. "Maybe his lady friend can apologize for me."

"Yeah? Is she awake?"

"Mm...she's definitely awake."

"I should get her ready first," he whispers, pressing a final kiss to your neck before pulling away to pull your t-shirt over your head, tossing it aside.

"She's a little lower down, you know," you chuckle, biting your bottom lip as he starts kissing your breasts, enveloping a nipple in his warm, wet mouth.

"I know," he mumbles with your nipple in his mouth, giving it a suck and a little nibble before switching to the other side. "I just wanted to give my girls some attention too."

"Your...your girls?" You sigh in pleasure as he sucks on your nipple, running your fingers through his messy hair.

"Mm...my precious babies," he smiles, planting a kiss to your sternum before making his descent down your body, his head disappearing under the duvet.

He spreads your thighs to accommodate his shoulders, not bothering to remove your panties. He simply pulls them aside and starts pressing soft, feather-like kisses to your clit. He knows you're still sleepy, and he is too, so he takes his time, languidly licking and sucking on your clit before sliding his tongue through your slick folds, gathering some of your essence on his tongue.

"Fuck, you taste good in the morning." His voice is muffled against your pussy, the duvet drowning most of the sound, but it reaches your ears and it makes your walls clench.

He flicks and swirls his tongue around your clit, pulling moan after moan from your lips, your back arching off the mattress as he eats you out. You're not sure why, but cunnilingus feels even better when you're sleepy.

Soon enough, you're cumming on his tongue, lacking the energy to last any longer than necessary.

He crawls up to stick his head out from under the duvet, his tongue darting out to lick your slick off of his lips. "Love the taste of your pussy in the morning."

"Jesus Christ," you laugh, your cheeks still flushed from your orgasm and his filthy words. "Do you have to be so vulgar?"

"I absolutely have to be so vulgar, yes."

He kisses you, letting you taste yourself on his tongue. It's early and neither one of you have gotten up yet to brush your teeth, but you don't care. You kinda like the way he tastes in the morning. It's natural, it's unfiltered and, you dare say; romantic. It makes your body heat up at the thought alone.

Morning sex is always a treat, a rarity for you and him. It's slower, and softer, and you don't have to think too much because your body just does what feels good. When Jungkook pushes his cock into you and presses his lips to yours to swallow your moans, you feel like you're on cloud nine.

"You're so pretty," he whispers into your ear, his voice deep and low, his hands sliding into yours to intertwine your fingers next to your head.

"You too," you sigh, your eyes rolling back into your head as he thrusts, making sure to roll his hips slowly and deeply.

"You think I'm pretty?" he grins faintly, keeping the pace nice and languid.

"S-so pretty..."

Your words pull a soft groan from within his chest, his face smooshed against your neck.

It doesn't feel like he's fucking you, but rather making love. There's no rush, the house still completely quiet in the early hours of the morning, giving him over enough time to pleasure you. The sun shines through the window, heating the skin of his bare back. His hair stands up in all directions from sleep, making him look extra soft and fluffy. He's so much more than pretty when you open your eyes to look at him. He's magnificent.

He kisses your lips as his thrusts pick up momentum, his body chasing his high. He reaches a hand down to rub circles over your clit, wanting you to finish with him, and as good as you feel, and as close as you are to cumming, you don't even care about that right now. All you care about is getting to share this intimacy with him.

He presses your body into the mattress when he cums, his arms wrapping firmly around your waist, his cock throbbing inside you.

You slide your hands around him, rubbing the skin of his back to soothe him, feeling the way his muscles flex beneath your palms.

His chest rises and falls unevenly, his whole body trembling, the feeling of pure bliss coursing through his veins. "Damn," he mumbles, his voice rough from his ragged breaths. "I might have just ejaculated my soul out of my body."

"That good?"

"So good," he chuckles, still a little breathless. "Wanna go take a shower?"

"Together?"

He leans on his elbows, looking down at you with a sheepish smile. "Yeah. Together."

You smile and push his frazzled hair out of his face, feeling your heart start to beat faster. "Okay."

The two of you take that shower together, sneaking in a few soft kisses and slow touches, trying your best not to get carried away. You kiss while you dry yourselves off and get dressed, and you kiss after brushing your teeth, and then before leaving your room to have breakfast with the rest of his friends, making sure to get in as many kisses before you have to be his "friend" again.

A part of you is sad to be leaving Jeju, but it's not the beach or the house you'll miss, although both of those things were quite nice. Instead, you'll miss opening your eyes in the morning and turning your head to see him next to you. You know that once you get home, you won't have any excuse to wake up next to him except for the fact that you're in love with him and you want to spend your mornings, your afternoons and your nights with him. That would just be insane to tell him that, so you won't, yet it's all you can think about on the plane ride back to Seoul.

He drives you home from the airport and carries your suitcase up to your apartment, handing it back to you at the door. You open the front door and walk in, expecting him to join you, but he doesn't.

"You coming in?"

"I want to but I should really get home to Bam," he sighs, giving you an apologetic smile.

That shouldn't disappoint you as much as it does. You understand, you love Bam and you know he needs his dad, even if you need his dad too.

"Right...yeah...I have to go get Miso from Jihyo's place anyway, so..."

He watches you as you try to hide your disappointment, an amused smile spreading across his face.

"Don't pout, baby," he teases.

"I'm not pouting," you scoff, rolling your eyes. "You should go, Bam-ie's waiting for you."

"Okay," he smiles, not making a move to leave just yet. "Can I get a kiss?"

"I don't know, can you?"

He scoffs and steps forward, cupping your face and pressing a few quick kisses to your mouth. "Before I leave," he murmurs against your lips. "I have a question I've been meaning to ask you."

"What is it?"

"Will you be my date to Joon and Mai's wedding?"

Your disappointment is replaced with surprise and an overwhelming heat that starts to spread throughout your chest, bringing a flush to your cheeks.

"O-okay," you murmur shyly, feeling your heart rate pick up.

"Yeah? Gonna wear a pretty dress for me?"

His smile and his words almost turn your knees to jello, but you manage to keep yourself composed, at least on the outside.

"Yeah."

"You gonna let me take the pretty dress off afterwards?"

"Yeah," you whisper, smiling as he presses another lingering kiss to your mouth, your hands holding onto his shirt to steady yourself.

"Good. I'll see you later, yeah?" He nudges your nose with his, his smile not faltering as he pulls away, sliding his hand down your arm until it reaches your hand, giving it a little squeeze before slowly releasing it.

"Yeah...see you later," you smile, watching him walk down the hall.

He walks until he reaches the elevator, pressing the button and stepping inside. He turns around to look at you down the hall, blowing you a quick kiss as the doors close. You have to wait until the elevator is fully closed before you let out a squeal, feeling like you're sixteen again.

< Part 4 || Part 6 >>

#jungkook smut #jungkook angst #jungkook fluff #jungkook x reader #jeon jungkook x reader #jungkook imagines #jungkook scenarios #bts x reader #bts fluff #bts angst #bts smut #jungkook series #bts series #bts jungkook #fic: tmhtl #kookooluvr

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making-you-in-spore · 9 months ago

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TRANS RIGHTS!! TERFS GET THE FUCK OFF MY BLOG!!!!!!!

who are you?

i'm just a guy who likes spore [2008]

why do this?

i just really like spore and making creatures in spore. it helps me practice my creature creation abilities.

can you make my oc in spore?

as of right now i do not take requests. i generally find characters and creatures i want to make by them appearing on my dashboard. refer to the Request Beast.

what is in your icon?

captain thunderhide, my main spore space stage captain.

what is peeling?

peeling is when i remove all detail parts from a creature and show the bare sculpt underneath - anything that is not eyes, mouth, hands, feet, or limbs will be removed. it is a tradition around these parts

what are "original spores"?

original spores are spore creations that aren't based on existing media - ocs, copyrighted characters, or otherwise. usually, they're just making things to make them in spore, or are based on simple prompts such as "a plate of spaghetti" or "a penis".

do you use mods?

i exclusively play this game with mods.

can i download the creatures you make?

only if the original creator of the design is okay with it and requests a png. please note that in order to successfully download the creatures, you will need to download every mod used to create them.

i will not always be able to say what mods i use to make something, so it's a gamble if you don't have all of the ones i use.

how do i mod spore/do advanced creature creation like you?

darkedgetv's FAQ is a very good resource to begin. i started there, and it's where i recommend you to start if you're interested in spore modding. it also contains many other mods i have not listed under the cut.

as much as i disagree with the process of using a discord server to contain vital information and resources, the davoonline spore modding community discord is also a good source of resources and mods that even i do not use.

are there any other blogs like yours?

there's a few and ever growing! i refer to this as the ecosystem or the making-you ecosystem.

i have a masterpost of all known individuals in this ecosystem here.

what editor mods do you use?

a lot, so they'll be under the cut.

not mods, but highly recommended for enhanced playing experience

4GB patch - Tutorial - patches spore [and other 32bit programs] to be able to use 4gb of RAM. recommended if playing a highly modded copy, and makes the game more stable.

Reshade & ReSpore - post-processing injector & shader that alters the appearance of spore, giving it more detailed shading and vibrant colors. i use this for gameplay and screenshots. runs on GPU power, so excellent if you have a strong graphics card

HD graphics fix - this doesn't actually seem to work for my copy, but it alters the textures of base spore to be more high-quality.

mods that are absolute must-haves

these mods are ones that i use in almost every creation, and add a lot of QoL to the editors. if i forget a mod in a creature png i post, it will be one of these.

Dark injection - THE spore mod. it's likely a lot of other mods you'll download will mesh well with dark injection. you can turn off whatever you don't want to use through the installer.

Universal Property Enhancer - a library mod that many other mods require

The Smoother - a useful tool for building muscles and smoothing out your creatures' bodies

Enhanced Color Picker - a requirement for super detailed creations, enables hexcode color picking and color wheel selection beyond normal limits of spore

[UPE] Infinite Part Scaling - allows scaling of parts near-infinitely, beyond the limits of the original game

Project Skyncraft - adds new creature skinpaints

Unshackled - adds nodes and limbs for creating custom wings, heads, hands, etc. a little bit unstable, i mostly use this for wings.

Spore Stacker - allows stacking of any part

Subtle Rotations - reduces part rotation snapping

Advanced CE - adds building editor manipulators to the creature editor

Every Part Costs Nothing - self explanatory

Rotate Anything - lets you rotate anything, including feet and hands

Advanced Creature Paint - allows for individual coloring of parts on a creature, like in the building and vehicle editors

Ambient Occlusion Disabler - removes baked-on shadows for creatures

Delta Paints - adds new skinpaints

Valla's Skinpaint Switcheroo - adds duplicates of all vanilla, C&C, and GA creature coat and detail skinpaints into their opposite category

test drive related mods

these mods are not required to download the creatures i post, but are recommended for the test drive.

No More Creature Editor Animations - turns off the animations that play when you add eyes, mouth, feet/hands, etc

Sevan's TF2 editor animations - adds multiple animations from tf2 into the creature test drive.

Mx3's Dance Animations - adds a multitude of dance animations into the creature test drive.

Tenebris's Creature Test Drive Animations - adds many animations from within the game to the creature test drive.

EditorBG - adds extra editor backgrounds

Ramone Kemono's MMD Drag Ball - high-effort dance mod complete with special effects and a reverse engineered camera system

part mods

these mods add parts to the editors.

DroneParts 2017 - adds many mechanical and polygonal parts useful for machine creatures, i like to use it for building clothes and markings.

New Drone Parts - a sequel to droneparts 2017, compatible with the old version. install both at the same time if you want to be able to use creatures from the old droneparts mod.

Himeric Engine - adds horror-themed parts to the creature editor.

Spore Resurrection Next Steps - adds a few parts to the creature editor and several new textures to the building and vehicle editors.

Dinosaur Parts - adds parts based on dinosaurs and other animals. mostly heads.

Strange And Beautiful - a now-discontinued, reuploaded mod that adds unusual and unique parts to the creature editor

Bionicle parts - adds a few bionicle pieces to the creature editor

Little Box Of Horrors - adds many parts with an overall horror theme. some are animated.

Pandora's Toolbox [1.0] - adds a multitude of basic shapes and polygons to build with

Replicant - adds non-textured animating parts and non-animating parts in a separate tab. good for if you want to use hands, limbs, etc without them animating or adding stats

Armoured And Dangerous - adds a few high detail mechanical looking parts.

Delimbiter - increases the amount you can scale limb parts, and allows for more crazy movements of certain limb parts

Valla's Vanilla Style Parts - adds several parts which mimic the vanilla style

Wordsmith 2.1 - adds letters to the creature, building, and vehicle editors

Kaiju parts - adds several parts based on popular kaiju

Organic Help - adds many membrane pieces to the creature editor, for creating wing webbing among other things

Project: Mad Mannequins - adds many human body based parts. and a horse for some reason

A Mouth For All Seasons - adds alternate versions of all vanilla mouths [and all unused cell mouths] with alternate diets

Valla's Captain Badges - adds all space badge models into the captain outfitter and creature editor

Rock On! - adds rock props from spore into the building and creature editors

#not spore

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missqhughes · 5 months ago

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CAN HE GET YOU LIKE THIS? | Q. HUGHES43

-> quinn hughes x jacksgf!reader

-> contains: cheating, smut with plot , SLIGHT angst, and other sexual themes, oc’s created for tha plot, intended lowercase, use of y/n

-> IN WHICH: jack almost cant seem to control himself around another woman at the lake house; and to make it worse, in front of his girlfriend. when she cries her frustrations to her boyfriends older brother, he seems to have the perfect solution to her problems.

-> my first hockey fic! i spent so much time on it, and i’m pretty proud tbh. also, i’m so excited to post on this page, and as i always say on my other blog, hope you love it as much as i do!

*fic is not proofread

18+ CONTENT BELOW THE CUT

y/n was never the jealous type.

she never needed anyone’s approval.

but god, what jack was doing was pissing her off.

for the first time, luke had brought his girlfriend april, to the lake house for the summer, and this week, y/n had the unpleasant company of aprils friend stampeding around the house for the week.

about 100% of the time, she could handle girls throwing themselves at jack at this point. she was used to it; jack was always a good boyfriend to her, and could always control himself with his endless female attention.

until today.

the july sun delivered a scorching heat down on the group as they conversed somewhere on the middle of the lake in the hughes family boat.

the typical casual conversation that y/n, jack, and his brothers had on their boat days were greatly interrupted by the ear piercing voices of april’s friends.

“jack, wanna let me drive the boat?”

“jack, the sun is too bright! can i please wear your hat?”

jack let out low chuckles at the flattery delivered to him, and y/n was doing her usual job at ignoring them.

with her dark tinted sunglasses on and her head resting on the back seat of the boat, she saw her boyfriend place his white baseball cap on one of april’s god forsaken friend.

her eyebrows furrowed; jack never fed into anything like this. the pang of anxiety lowly rested in the pit of her stomach, but she chose to ignore it.

he knew better.

“jacky, how does it look on me?”

through her dark lenses, she witnessed the ratty girl in front of her spin in front of jack, pulling the sides of her bikini up while doing so.

he made no attempt to hide his gaze on the girl in front of him, or the comment that slipped from his lips afterwards;

“looks good,” he said lowly, probably thinking that his girlfriend mere feet away from him was fast asleep from the summer heat, unaware to his tease.

the anxiety in y/n’s stomach began to surface more, a jealousy and anger she hadn’t felt in a situation like this before arising. she thought whatever of it, that she was being crazy, that she could shove this feeling down.

y/n kept her gaze straight forward, blocking out any of the chatter coming from anyone in her vicinity; her eyes locked on luke’s slow speed on the boat, conversing casually with april, unaware of the drama brewing behind them.

god, can he not drive any faster? she thought to herself, the annoyance within growing deeper and deeper.

the boat rocked along with the motion of the water beneath it, but y/n did her best to sit completely still, feeling that if she moved, the her negative emotions would swirl harder.

after a grueling 4 minute ride back to the dock, luke had secured the boat,

“everyone’s good to get off now,” he told the group, grabbing april’s hand and towel, assisting her onto the dock.

the short haired girl, the one throwing herself all over jack, the one who’s name y/n didn’t even bother to remember in their introductions, was just about to take it too far.

she stood up first, jack and y/n following behind her.

the ratty girl “dropped” her towel, allowing the perfect opportunity to bend down in front of jack,

“woops! my bad,” her voice made an embarrassing attempt to be seductive to jack, turning her head to eye him up and down.

jack let out a deep inhale, just enough to set y/n off further on her silent rage.

“all good, let me help you out.”

the girl giggled as she took jacks hand, letting it linger on his skin longer than necessary.

he paid no mind to his girlfriend behind him.

the insatiable urge to strangle the two idiots in front of y/n was barely present on her face, as she decided to take back control of the situation, and remind both of them who his significant other was.

“babe, i’m tired, do you want to come up and take a nap?”

his conversation with the short haired girl was cut with y/n’s words, he looked back at the two, contemplation in his mind, before smiling at y/n.

see? nothing to worry about-

“i uh, i think i’m gonna stay down here for a bit, don’t want to go inside yet, it’s just a really nice day y’know?”

her ears began to ring with his words, cheeks growing red as she looked over at luke and april, who shifted uncomfortably, now aware of the drama upon the dock.

“uh, yeah… yeah that’s fine.”

“i’ll be up soon, promise,” jack said as he sat down with april, luke, and her stupid friend.

y/n ignored his words, turning on her heel to walk up to the house, pace growing as soon as she was out of sight from the dock.

now that she was alone, all the feelings the thought she was suppressing were now at the forefront of her body and mind. she ran her hands through her hair, almost ready to rip it out from frustration.

y/n stormed through the house, and as she passed the living room, she was met with quinn; who was quietly reading a book with his feet kicked up on the ottoman.

before he lifted his head, his eyes went up first, gaze met with y/n’s indignant expression,

“woah, you okay, something happen on the one boat day i miss?” he said light heartedly,

“quinn, not now,”

y/n snapped at him, before slamming her bedroom door, the action echoing through the otherwise quiet house.

——————————————————————————

dinner wasn’t any better.

y/n didn’t realize how much time had gone by as she was staring at the ceiling, recounting the events of the day. jack did not keep his promise about “coming up soon” which wasn’t to the shock of y/n, considering his behavior today. he did stop in her designated room, to give her a kiss on the forehead, and to tell that dinner was ready.

and that was it.

now, she was sitting next to jack at the table, his happy chatter with his brothers, april, and company sounding like mumbles in her ears. she felt a gaze on her, hoping it was jack, but when y/n turned her head softly to confirm, he was still smiling at his continued conversation.

like nothing was wrong.

there was only one other person who wasn’t talking, and her eyesight landed right on his.

quinn.

she shifted in her seat, quickly averting their eye contact, and picked at her quarter eaten meal with her fork.

“excuse me everyone, i’m gonna go lay down,”

jack looked at y/n, giving her a half smile and no thought to her abrupt departure, before returning to his seemingly endless conversation.

y/n began to pick her plate up to take it to the sink, when quinn’s voice spoke up,

“i’ll take care of it,” the tips of his fingers pushed down lightly on the edge of her plate.

“you sure? it’s fine i don’t-”

“just go lay down.”

y/n blinked at him a few times before nodding her head, setting her plate down and shuffling to her room.

she closed the door softly this time, letting out a shaky breath as she sat on the edge of the plush bed. her head was beginning to throb, not sure if it was from lack of food or just from the complete and total anxiety jack was giving her.

——————————————————————————

y/n scrolled mindlessly on her phone, again losing the track of time with the state she was in.

1:19am.

the dryness in her throat was becoming more present as she came down from her brain fog, deciding to clear herself with a glass of water.

y/n slipped into the kitchen, only the warm dim glow from the microwave light allowing her to see. the glass cups lightly clinked together as she pulled one out, then setting it down to fill up.

the refrigerator hummed softly, barely breaking the silence through the house. then, a raspy voice spoke behind her,

“what’re you doing up?”

y/n whipped her head around, almost dropping and shattering the glass of water in her hand,

“jesus christ quinn, you scared the shit out of me!”

she set down the glass to put a hand to her chest, an attempt to slow down the spike in her heart rate.

quinn let out a small, quiet laugh, “sorry, i thought you heard me.”

“no,” she let out a huff, “i didn’t,” y/n smiled back at him gently as the beating in her chest settled.

“so, what’s wrong?”

quinn was quick to change the conversation to put her on the spot, y/n’s lips parting as she thought of her next words.

“nothing, i don’t know what you’re talking about-”

“yes you do.”

y/n scoffed, “you really have a habit of interrupting me don’t you?”

“stop avoiding the question. what’s wrong? talk to me, y/n.”

the two stared at one another, having an unspoken battle with each other,

y/n broke first.

she swallowed, knowing the words about to spill out of her mouth were going to come shaky and scattered; she didn’t want quinn, or anyone for that matter, to know the state her mind was at. y/n hopped up to sit on the kitchen counter, retelling the day to quinn.

“it was… it was jack. today. he was just letting april’s stupid fucking friend flirt with him! and-”

“alana?”

she shot him a deep scowl, “don’t interrupt me to tell me what her stupid name is!”

quinn raised his hands in defeat, “sorry, sorry, keep going,”

“he let her wear his hat, she bent over in front of him and he said nothing, and as you could tell from earlier today, he didn’t even come up to the house with me when i asked…”

her words trailed off shakily, y/n felt hot, wet tears flow down her cheeks, slightly blurring her vision, she looked down, unable to meet quinn’s gaze she felt burning into her face.

“y/n… i’m sorry. he’s a shithead for that,”

he stepped closer to her, lessening the distance between them,

“y/n.”

she hummed in response, sniffles coming from her, still refusing to look up at him,

“y/n look at me.”

y/n knew how persistent quinn was, and he definitely was not going to let her get away with not looking at him. though it felt like lifting a ton of bricks, her glossy eyes looked up to meet his.

quinn’s eyes flickered all over her face, reading her sorrow expression. he brought his hand up to meet her face, gently using his thumb to brush away any fallen tears on her tinted cheeks.

“you know, i really hate it when you cry,” he cooed softly, still wiping away the spilling tears, paying more attention to her in these mere minutes than jack had been all day.

“i’m so mad at myself, i should’ve said something, i let it all happen in front of me,” y/n said, her quiet frustrations let out only for quinn’s ears to hear.

“hey, hey, no. you shouldn’t have even been put in that position, don’t blame yourself, okay?” he placed his hands on either sides of the counter, locking her in. his voice being stern but still soft, a tough love kind of talk.

y/n’s heart beated faster as she became hyper aware of how close their bodies were, feeling the warmth radiating off of him.

she wanted to knock herself in the head for feeling this way, but her heightened distaste for jack in the moment, quinn’s messy hair combined with his beard and tired eyes made him so sinfully appealing.

“you’re right, i shouldn’t have,”

y/n felt almost awkward in this moment, especially it being her boyfriends older brother. there was no way for her to move without being even closer to him.

“god, y/n… cant believe that… if i had you… i’d never let that happen,”

quinn’s tired eyes turned lustful by the second, going up and down y/n’s body before flickering between her own eyes and lips.

“quinn,” she let out with a breath, “you cant say things like that, you know you can’t,”

y/n couldn’t help herself from matching quinn’s motion, unable to tear away from looking at his full lips.

“after the shit he pulled today, i think i’m safe to do whatever the hell i want,”

the gentle demeanor in his voice was replaced with seduction, bringing his face closer to hers, close enough for their breaths to mingle.

“say the words y/n, i wont do anything you don’t want me to do. say the words and i’ll stop.”

she was between a rock and a hard place. it’s not like jack had outright cheated in front of her, and she would feel horrible doing something like that to him. however, his actions were inexcusable, and he saw not an inch of an issue with what he was doing. and at the exact same time, quinn was ready to be all over her. hell, he’s practically admitting to wanting his little brother’s girlfriend. in this moment, he could give her anything.

fuck it.

this is what he gets, she thought to herself. it’s not like he would find out anyway. no one would.

“i want you quinn.”

the words rolled off her tongue faster than her mind let her think about the consequences, and in no time, quinn captured y/n’s lips in his, securing his hands on to her waist.

the two kissed sloppily in the kitchen, out in the open, with too much opportunity to get caught. neither of them cared.

y/n’s hands found a home in his hair, quinn emitting a low groan as she gently tugged at his waves.

she felt a heat growing between her legs, and an attempt to close them for relief was blocked by quinn pushing them back open with his hips.

y/n gasped, allowing quinn’s tongue entry, and as he explored her mouth with his, she felt him growing harder against her core, making the wetness in her shorts more difficult to ignore.

quinn panted heavily as he pulled away, still gripping at her waist, fingers hugging the bottom hem of her shirt,

“can i take this off?”

she buzzed at his words, nodding vigorously. with her consent, he raised the shirt above her body, y/n lifting her arms in assistance.

quinn wasted no time to kiss down her neck to her now exposed upper chest, sitting perfectly pretty in her bra. he sucked and nipped at the bare skin, earning quiet moans from her soft lips.

“mm—fuck quinn,” y/n threw her head back in pleasure, giving more room for quinn to litter her chest with marks. she didn’t even care if they were going to bruise tomorrow or who was going to saw. everyone else was on the back burner of her mind.

her praise only made him rougher, sucking harder into her skin, feeling himself getting more and more rowdy by the second.

his lips went up to claim hers again, tapping her thigh as a signal to wrap her legs around his waist. she listened, hooking herself around him. quinn lifted her up effortlessly, their kiss not being broken as he peeked his eyes open in a tenth of a second to see their way to his room.

with one hand tucked under y/n’s ass, he turned the knob to his bedroom door, stepping into the room before closing the door behind him with a light kick.

quinn’s legs met the edge of the bed, and he threw her down before making himself pry his lips from her’s, plump and slick from his.

“you’re still okay with his?” he asked, his thumb drawing circles on her hips.

“more than okay, please quinn. i need more.”

he nodded, taking a step back to take all of her in with his eyes.

she looked at him confused for a moment, before he talked,

“strip.”

she swallowed heavily, ready to obey his words. y/n wiggled out of her shorts, leaving her skin only covered by a black bra and panties.

“i said strip. all the way.”

her heart was about to come out of her chest, all of it was beginning to feel real, and that she was about to be naked and on display for jack’s brother.

only hearing the beating in her chest, quinn watched as y/n unhooked her bra first, tits bouncing with the action, and he thought he could cum in his pants right then and there.

y/n sat down on the bed, staring deeply into quinn’s eyes, slipping her black panties down her half parted legs, pussy wet and glistening from the moonlight shining through the window.

“fuck,” he whispered, unable to control his hand from falling to his crotch, beginning to palm himself through his shorts.

with a single hand, quinn took his shirt off, dipping his head down to kiss her naked thighs. y/n shuddered at his action, his kisses being everywhere except where she desperately needed them to be.

he hovered just above her core, “can i?”

“quinn please stop fucking asking and just do it,” y/n begged, squirming under him, desperate for his touch.

he licked a long stripe down her wet folds, y/n unable to control the guttural moan that escaped from her lips. her back arched in pleasure at the feeling of quinn’s lips sucking on her puffy clit, aching for attention.

he couldn’t stop; he was devouring her like it was his death row and she was his last meal, already addicted to the taste of her pussy on his tongue.

quinn pushed her hips down, sticking his tongue in her and his nose bumping against her clit with each motion. y/n felt knots twisting and forming in her stomach, a strong release forming, one that jack had never even came close to making her feel.

“mmph, shit quinn— gonna fucking cum, oh— my fuck,”

profanities spilled out of y/n’s mouth, but her pleasure was cut short as his dripping lips pulled away from her aching core, craving his touch.

she whined at the loss of contact, only to be met with quinn peeling off his shorts and underwear, his throbbing dick aching with desire from his tip.

“when i make you cum, i want it to be on my dick, pretty girl.”

y/n felt like she could’ve exploded right then and there, but she bit her lip, moving closer to the edge of the bed, giving quinn better access to line up with her.

he ran his dick between her wet folds a few times before inserting himself in her, the two let out gracious moans at the mutual pleasure.

quinn started slow, hips rolling back and forth, before quickening his pace to a pornographic speed.

his lips hooked onto y/n’s once again, sloppy and wet, both groaning into each others mouths with delight. in the kiss he captured both her wrists, pinning them above her head.

quinn broke the kiss to look at her with his brows furrowed, concentrated on fucking y/n senseless. her bottom lip was between her teeth, tits bouncing with the speed of his thrusts.

“fuck y/n, you feel so good on my dick, can he ever get you like this? a moaning fucked out mess? hm?”

his words barely registered in her ears, body buzzing as his dick continued to destroy her pussy.

“no, no, mm— you fuck me so much better quinn,” y/n did her best not to scream it, still aware that the other people in the house had the potential to hear them.

“gonna— cum— y/n— shit,” quinn huffed out between thrusts. she also felt the now familiar knots forming in her stomach, her release about to come.

his movements became sloppy as his release coated her walls, and at the same time, she painted his dick with her own.

they felt euphoric, quinn pulled out of her slowly, groaning as his dick came out of her.

y/n laid out on the bed panting with closed eyes, hearing the light flicker on from quinn’s connected bathroom.

she felt a wet towel meet her sensitive core, hissing at the feeling.

“sorry, just wanna clean you up first,”

y/n looked at quinn while he cleaned her with concentration, his body glistening with sweat and his messy hair slightly sticking to his forehead.

“thank you, quinn,”

y/n was breathless watching quinn go back into the bathroom, her chest still rapidly rising and falling. she felt herself grow more tired with each passing minute.

quinn came back from the bathroom with a different pair of underwear on, holding out a pair of his boxers to put on. y/n gladly accepted, slipping them up her body. she grabbed her bra from the floor, hooking it back on.

after she was partly dressed, he delivered her a sweet, soft kiss to her lips. different than any kind of kiss they had so far, this one was deep and loving; his hands gently cupping her face.

“stay with me,”

quinn’s proposition took her by surprise, thinking he was going to send her back to her room after all this, but no.

“quinn, i really shouldn’t, it’s not a good ide-”

“you and jack can figure your shit out later. as of right now, you’re mine.”

he was right and she knew it. he claimed her, and there was definitely going to be some kind of consequence for this. either way y/n and jack were going to have to figure their shit out, but to her, that was an issue for the morning.

“okay, i’ll stay.”

quinn smiled at her, planting a kiss on her forehead. he peeled away at his thick blue comforter, leaving space for the both of them to crawl inside. y/n felt herself more comfortable falling asleep with quinn than she did with jack, whatever that meant. but she didn’t care. his body was tangled with hers, falling asleep to the soft beat of his heart.

pt. 2

——————————————————————————

xoxo, kaia

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iamespecter · 8 months ago

Text

TADC OCs: "The Die Quartet"!

"Oh but Ziku, who are these very handsome die?"

Well I'm glad nobody asked, because that would ruin the joke!

The Die Quartet are OCs of mine that I created for TADC, and for what purpose? Well, they're the minds behind show's music!

Hidden just behind a corner or two, or four, These obliviously mischievous and enthusiastic quartet play whatever music they can, one that certainly matches the current "mood" of what the cast is going through. Meet Cuba, Dodeca, Tetra, and Octa, The Amazing Musical Performers, for The Amazing Digital Circus!

LORE AND BOUNDARIES UNDERNEATH THE CUT!

When the Circus was initially created, it was feeling too barren for a place that's meant to be "lively". And so, Caine went and copy-pasted himself four times, while replacing the heads with some die props he found on the floor, retexturing and adjusting their bodies, to fit their new roles.

A little bit of a code rewrite to make them able of producing any sounds all on their own to be musically intertwined, and the quartet was basically ready to go: but there's only one problem.

Caine completely forgot to remove the admin privileges from their code.

So once the four spawned, they immediately began floating around, dancing and creating the main theme for the circus, and did it all perfectly. So Caine decided that as long as they don't interfere with anything major in the circus and did their job as the musical minds behind the show/game's soundtracks, he doesn't really care about fixing this error and would rather let these four run rampant to create more songs.

Ever since then, the Die Quartet has been messing with every circus members, most of the time playing obnoxious music that fits the "current mood". You'll even see their canes dance to the tempo they've set, like some backup dancers.

Think of it like: You now have x4 Caines with dice heads, flying and snooping around, so that they can "improve the mood" with their music! Ain't that swell??

(But really, all they do is just annoy the Circus members just like Caine does, for the better or the worse. Probably the latter.)

Fun facts about the Die Quartet!

Even though they've all been created at the same time and share the features of a die, they do not consider themselves as "brothers", and only see one another as colleagues instead.

Their names are related to the type of their die: Tetra (yellow), Dodeca (purple), Cuba (red), and Octa (green).

Despite being reused assets of Caine himself, they have distinct personalities that separate them from each other: Tetra is more joyful and playful, Dodeca is a more dramatic/theatric and over the top, Cuba is the natural lead and more stern than anybody, and Octa is the more closed off of the gang but willing to provide his best.

Yet, they all still lack awareness of personal space and boundaries just like Caine, and WILL be intrusive towards anyone they set their sights on, with the intent of predicting their mood and setting the current situation perfectly in musical form. (ex. if a character is sneaking, all four will follow "cautiously" behind while one imitates/pulls out a tiny piano playing to the theme of "tip-toeing". You know, like a cartoon gag.)

Although they can perfectly imitate ANY sound or instrument imaginable, They'll still pull out a "physical" instrument if the gag calls for it.

BOUNDARIES!

You can pretty much draw fanart of them! In fact I would REALLY love to see it and I encourage it! Really, just don't claim them as your own, or steal their designs.

NSFW of them is accepted, but please keep in mind that I have an SFW blog. Which means THERE ARE MINORS. Show them to me privately instead, I'd still love to see it <3

While NSFW is accepted (privately), please make it a morally decent one, because I don't really wanna see some disgusting stuff. This pretty much includes: non-con, scat, etc.

Aside from that though, I hope you all enjoyed these four! I really love how they turned out, and would love to draw them more. I was initially hesitant on showing my TADC OCs because I don't think people would like 'em, but fuck it.

My boys, they deserve to be seen even if just by a few people on the internet.

#tadc #the amazing digital circus #tadc oc #ocs #my ocs #oc info #the die quartet #the amazing digital circus oc #tadc original character #pomni #artists on tumblr #digital art #art #my art <3

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mikaela-the-slut-expert · 1 year ago

Note

Hello! I'm so happy I found your blog! I like your story, the way you write it! And it’s so easy for me to imagine my OC with your story, because our OCs are a little similar, only my character is something like a god/demon of death, a little more cold and his pets are snakes))

Sooooo... Sorry for taking a lot of time with my character 😅 the request for headcanons is haulian x reader and how will Xie Lian and Hua Cheng react if the reader feels like the third wheel in their trio and become a little bit distant because want to give them some space? (I have the idea in my head that the reader is basically like your OC, i like him soooooo much)

Sorry if it's not clear, English is not my native language. And if you don't like the idea, just ignore it))

Closing The Distance

Hua Cheng x M!Reader x Xie Liam

I'm so happy you like my writing and I love to hear about your OC so don't worry. I'm happy our OC's are so similar 🥰🖤

I like writing stories with my headcanons soooo bare with me, bear with me???

____________________________________

You've been distant. Well you've never reached out to people before this either, but you're more distant than usual.

Xie Lian and Hua Cheng noticed immediately.

How you start declining things, how you just sit to the side, you don't talk much, You let them sleep alone, eat dinner alone.

You stop being near them. The kisses you give dwindle down to nothing and the words "I love you" have been reserved.

They haven't a clue why. Xie Lian and Hua Cheng have tried to think of every reasonable possibility but don't know why

Why would you want to be alone when it's supposed to be the three of you together?

It gets to the point where they have to visit you instead of the other way around. Paradise Manor, and Puqi shrine is all of your homes but you don't show up to either one anymore.

You're hiding away at your own place and they just don't know what to do

It really breaks Xie Lian's heart because you've been by his side all these years why do you want to leave now?

Hua Cheng is equally devastated. He would do anything for you and Xie Lian but you're pulling away.

The two can only think that maybe you just don't love them anymore, maybe you're tired of them?

You would never do that though

Xie Lian doesn't like it and neither does Hua Cheng. They intend to get to the bottom of it because they love you.

They would try to give you space but when it seems to only make it worse they don't stop bothering you

That's what it seems like you need, to be bothered.

Xie Lian keeps asking, and caring for you

Hua Cheng gets insecure. He knows he's good that Xie Lian loves him but do you? You aren't disgusted by him are you? Contrary to popular belief ghost kings get insecure too

************************************

You are pathetic, at least you feel like you are. Hiding away like a bug under a rock. You don't know when it started and you couldn't control it when it got out of hand. It's nothing against Xie Lian and Hua Cheng, you love them dearly. But the problem you have feels like a problem you can't even bring up. You don't want to hurt them.

Would you hurt them more by bringing it up or staying hidden?

So you've been... Lying here. Bed rotting. If you can even call it that. You're actually just lying under a rock. Very literally. You're hanging out in a small cave. It's nothing you aren't used to you used to do it with Xie Lian all the time.

You could've gone to the heavens and hidden up there but you don't have friends. You have Feng Xin, and Mu Qing but you know they would snitch on you if it came to Xie Lian. So here you are under a rock. Overthinking.

You always overthink, it's why you left in the first place. You also felt selfish. It's hard to see Xie Lian and Hua Cheng together. You love them both, honest! But what do they even need you for? They look perfect without you, like they were made to just have each other. You felt like you were getting in the way, or like a third wheel.

You know they love you too but... It feels so difficult to be included. When Hua Cheng first showed up he immediately was able to take Xie Lian's side and help him with missions. Which was fine you guys needed the extra help anyways but then you learned their pasts. They're just so intertwined with each other

Hua Cheng built temples for Xie Lian, released 3,000 lanterns, built statues, fought in war, challenged 33 gods, cut out his eye, and died 3 times for him, and broke his shackles! What could you possibly add to the relationship. No one could care for Xie Lian better than Hua Cheng.

Xie Lian saved Hua Cheng when he was a child, and stayed with Wu Ming. Gave him a coral pearl, and red string. What have you done?

All the heavens talk about is Xie Lian and Hua Cheng. The ghost realm is the same. You were never a prominent figure so people forget you're even there. They don't even know you're their lover too.

So yes it's hard, and maybe it's selfish that you want to feel more included when they already spoil you when anything you could ask for. Which is why you're hiding in a small, dumb cave. You eventually fall asleep to the pitter, patter of rain.

When you wake up you aren't under a rock anymore. You're in bed. In red sheets, in a red room, red, red, red. You're at paradise manor. You wouldn't mind that if you weren't actively avoiding your lovers. You sit straight up in bed and before you can tumble out Xie Lian is at your bedside. He's frowning and has this worried look in his eyes that makes you feel guilty.

"Where have you been, y/n?" You look away and shrug. "In the cave you found me in" your lips wobble a little. You don't know what to say. What excuse could you use this time? You pick at a loose piece of thread on the blanket and notice that Hua Cheng isn't in the room with you two. ". . . Where's San Lang?"

"A-Lang" Xie Lian interrupts you and his hand finds yours "You've always called him A-Lang"

You want to crinkle under his piercing gaze. "Where's A-Lang?" You whisper glancing back at the blanket.

"Standing outside the room. Baobei why have you been avoiding us?" Xie Lian turns your gaze back to him.

"I-I just was dealing with my own issues" Your hands fist in the blankets and your eyes get watery just thinking about how selfish you've been.

Xie Lian's hand caresses your cheek, "Our issues. We can help you if you tell us."

You bite your lips and bring your hand up trying to wipe your tears before they get the chance to stream down your face. "It's selfish" you spit, venom covers your tongue. "It was a pathetic reason, really. I just was overthinking and I felt like. . . A third wheel. It's not a big deal though" You glare at the blanket. Your anger of course isn't directed at them but at yourself. Xie Lian knows this too.

"A third wheel, how come?" He runs his fingers through your hair. Him and Hua Cheng have tried everything to include you so how could one feel left out?

"It's my own fault, I just don't feel like I have anything to add. I've nothing to offer. I've done nothing compared to you two" You're completely useless like always.

Xie Lian's questioning is interrupted when the door slams open. You both jump when Hua Cheng storms in and grabs a hold of your face. He would never hurt you, you all know this. "Nothing to offer? Just who are you talking about right now?" He frowns at you with furrowed brows. "I don't think we're seeing the same person." He doesn't let you divert your gaze keeping you there.

Hua Cheng knows what you're feeling, your insecurities stemming all from feeling useless. He knows how it is. "You have everything to offer and even if you didn't we would love you anyways. You don't have to add anything y/n, you can just be" he frowns and sits on the bed.

"I think you're going blind in your other eye. I really don't have anything" you blink away tears. "This one offers so much and he doesn't even know, he's done so much for the two of us and doesn't remember. Right gege?" Hua Cheng looks at his other husband for approval and Xie Lian nods.

"This one is a heavenly official. You have to work hard to become a god in the upper court" Xie Lian adds. You scoff though. "That's not what I'm talking about, I-I haven't done anything for the two of you"

Hua Cheng wants to shake you in a jar. "You have though!" Now he's yelling and Hua Cheng doesn't yell only when it comes to the two of you. "Who's rayed by Xie Lian all these years protecting him when I was lost? You did! Who took care of Hong er when Gege's other servants wouldn't dare touch him? You did. Who gave a mongrel child their family heirloom because he had sympathy and was kind? You did!" Hua Cheng holds your face in his hands still.

"You work so hard, and have gone through so much just like the rest of us and yet you still worry about others still!"

"every night this one takes care of us and helps Gege make dinner. Every day this one protects us, every day this one thinks of us and gives his best for us!"

Hua Cheng gives endless reasons small to large. You're crying in his hands and Hua Cheng wipes them away for you.

"No one is allowed to insult my lovers, even if they're doing it themselves" Hua Cheng finishes and kisses your forehead. Xie Lian is smiling and he kisses your forehead too.

"Don't run from us anymore, you can tell us what you're thinking anytime. Me and San Lang have no problem giving you the reassurance you need" he hums and joins you two in bed. All three of you cuddle for the rest of the night and the two practically suffocate you, not allowing you to leave bed. But you love them and would gladly lie here tangled in their limbs.

____________________________________

I hope y'all like it! Also ignore my grammar mistakes guys I always have some. 🖤

#hualian #hualian x reader #tgcf #tgcf headcanon #hua cheng x reader #tgcf x male reader #xie lian x reader #tgcf xie lian #xie lian #tgcf hualian #tgcf hua cheng #hua cheng #tgcf x reader

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planetallure · 3 months ago

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✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ fic recs

CW: these works contain explicit content intended for those 18+. make sure to read the rules of the writers before interacting.

@peterthepark : coming back to this blog made me realize when exactly i started back reading fanfic fr. the moment that was eddie mf munson, touched something in me. reign was one of my first intros that really stuck with me. it kinda blew my mind and scared me at the same time because i was like…how do i move on…what’s better than this??? brilliance. creative genius. like what more do you want from me? reign, i miss you. <3

i rec literally anything she’s written about eddie or tasm!peter parker.

@ohcaptains : i really don’t know what to tell you man. leah. is. HER. she simply does not miss. funny story: when i first started my old blog, it was ageless so i ended up getting blocked. so i pm’d her basically begging to come back home because i knew what i had lost. i’m not ashamed.

"dealers choice" - if you happened to miss the moment that was eddie munson or you miss his character or you were never really into him, this lil universe is for you. <3

"learning in public" - carmy x fem!reader. he needs it. he wants it. he has to have it. a man on his knees. enjoy.

"don't you dare fall in love" - heads up this one was discontinued and will not be continued (so don’t go harassing her about it) but the last part has an open ending so don’t let that stop you. college student/dealer!ellie x fem!reader. it’s beautiful and perfect. enjoy.

also ALL of her frank castle, abby anderson, tasm!peter parker fics. thank youuu

@inknopewetrust : this woman is a W R I T E R. the beautiful angsty things that come from her brain need to be cherished. thank you for your service.

“hoping i’ll find [a glimpse of us]” - when i tell you this shit was so fricking good!!!!!?! another piece of LITERATURE that i couldn’t believe i got to read for free on tumblr. i am such a sucker for a angsty slow burn and this still lives in me head rent free to this day. the tension had me giggling and laughing and biting my nail and crying. i need to spin back. i need to feel something!!

“secret” : now this one was a sexy forbidden romance. eddie’s our man who isn’t our man but is and oh m gee the angst in this one got me too, though it wasn’t as much. preppy!reader x eddie munson iykyk.

@etherealising : the absolute sweetest person i’ve met on here. every interaction i have with her just makes me smile. on TOP of that she’s a beautiful writer and storyteller. vee you have my heart.

“all i ever knew only you” - the best carmy x oc fic i’ve ever had the pleasure of reading on here. i’m so emotionally attached to this series, its characters and i think it has such re-readablity . the characterization is also so well done carmy x baby 4life. it’s currently discontinued but she is currently doing a rewrite and it’s going really well! in the meantime, please don’t let that stop you from reading the original while it’s still up. you won’t regret it.

“a buried and a burning flame” - vee single-handedly has me looking a richie different now. like…wait a minute :)) the bickering and banter is so fun. tension? check. spice?? check.

“flew like a moth to you” - a continuation of the one above. babyyyy!!! yes, yes, uh huh 🙂‍↕️ these two? LOVE EM. he’s officially in my heart.

@totheblood : star is so kind and super creative. she has created some of my favorite ellie williams smau’s on here.

"the hard way" - rockstar!ellie williams x ex-gf!reader smau. you guys are brought together again to solve the mystery that is the anonymous account blackmailing the two of you. mmm, nothing like the takedown of a shady mf to bring the girls together again :)

@cherriesxinthespring : another sweetheart with a beautiful mind. ik people get the characterization/true nature of ellie so wrong, but not rosie. she gets it.

“wasteland, baby!” - the wlw true enemies to lovers slow burn i’ve been dreaming of. tap in. right now.

@elliesbelle

“nobody compares to you” : a deliciously angsty slow burn second chance romance (ex!ellie x f!reader)

all the text convos for abby and ellie.

@newasskid : this blog makes me so nostalgic. THE first fic series that i read and rebloged when i started my first ff blog, came from this writer. i honestly feel it was my first time reading fanfic that wasn’t a silly little wattpad story or imagine and i was honestly gagged. i was like, “this…this is literature.” what can i say? i love good ass characterization! and this one was no exception.

“hard knock life” - like i said i was gagged with how good it was. i read the first two chapters back in 2022 and i still remember the feeling i felt reading them. this new blog i’m making is a fresh start for me and a chance for me to get back into old fandoms. will be revisiting this one soon.

@lovelettersfromluna

"one of your girls" - biker!ellie/roommate!ellie/camgirl!ellie x f!reader ALL rolled into to this ridiculously sexy little universe!! i love these two so much :’(

"compass" - vampire!ellie !!!! my new favorite thing. the way luna writes her feeding on reader ALONE is the most erotic and intimate thing. my god this was hot.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

sending all of this beautiful writers my love and respect y’all are amazing and so important. <3

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fanbasetwo · 2 months ago

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TIL DEATH DO US PART , RICKY

PAIRING: husband ! ricky × wife ! afab reader

SYNOPSIS: In an arranged marriage where sparks never flew, you finally chose divorce as the only path to freedom. But when your husband died in a sudden accident, life took an unexpected turn, binding you to a reality marked by guilt, grief, and the shadows of unfulfilled words. Now, you must navigate a world that holds him forever gone.

GENRE: fluff + angst

WARNING(S): not proofread, kissing, dirty jokes, a little bit suggestive, mentions of suicide and death, insecurities, mentions of pregnancy. lmk if I missed anything.

WORD COUNT: 16.2K

FEAT: JAY from ENHYPEN + some ocs

MASTERLIST !!

NOTE FROM SENA , this kinda flopped on my enha blog but I still wanted to reach more people, so here it is. an ricky version of the same fic, if you find ‘jake’ instead of ‘ricky’ in some paras please mention so that I can edit it out. hope you have fun reading this <3💗

DEAR RICKY,

I'm sorry, but I can't continue living like this. I'm leaving. Our marriage has become a constant battle, and I believe we're both suffering more by holding on than we would by letting go. I know neither of us wanted it to come to this, and I wish things were different. But deep down, I think we're better apart. I hope one day you'll understand.

With regret, Y/N.

TEARS BLURRED YOUR VISION AS YOU STARED AT THE CRUMBLED NOTE IN YOUR HAND—the one you had written to Ricky months ago. The one that now felt like a curse. Your hands shook as you traced the familiar words, guilt twisting your insides. I'm leaving. I'm sorry. He had never known the true weight of those words. And now he never would.

The police had found it in his pocket. They said he'd carried it with him, even after everything. Even when he... when he was gone.

You collapsed onto the couch, clutching the note like a lifeline, but it only felt like a reminder of how far you had pushed him. How much you had wanted out, and now, how deeply you regretted it. A year together, two lives constantly at odds, and it had ended in this way. A divorce that never came, an accident that did. You didn't want this, didn't want him gone, but now, all you had was this-regret, and a body that was too still in your bed to hold. The anger, the frustration of him being gone-it consumed you, ate at your soul.

Why couldn't you have waited?

You had hoped time apart would fix things, give you both breathing room. But he hadn't lived long enough for you to see the good you could have made of it. The guilt ate you alive, deeper than the frustration ever had. You tried to convince yourself it wasn't your fault, that you couldn't have known, but deep down, the truth stung. Your note had been his last reminder of your marriage. His last memory. He had carried your rejection right until the end.

Would things have been different if you hadn't written that letter?

The thought raked at your mind like shards of glass, shredding everything in its path. What if you had kept fighting for him, for the marriage? Would he have been here? Would you have learned to love him? Or would he still have left, still have been gone, no matter what?

Your thoughts flickered back to moments with him-so small, so easy to overlook. The way Ricky had rolled his eyes every time you'd scolded his niece Semi for spilling juice, or how he had tried to hide his smirk as he pretended to act innocent. The little things that used to irritate you, that you had never really appreciated until now.

You remembered the way he defended you against his relatives, his words sharp and protective as they made cruel comments about your body. They didn't understand, but Ricky did. He had always been there, not perfect but trying.

“She suits me well enough.”

The memory felt like a slap now, a cruel joke. You had spent so much time pushing him away, not seeing that he cared. You hadn't seen that he had tried.

“Why couldn't I have seen it?” You whispered to the empty room, curling up on the bed, pressing your face into the pillow. The tears soaked into the fabric, and the sobs wracked through you like a storm. Why was it only now, when he was gone, that you realized how much he had mattered?

You had never kissed him, never held him the way a wife should. You thought you had the luxury of time, but now you had nothing left but his memory. The memory of a man you barely knew but had somehow been the one constant in your life. How selfish of you to push him away. How stupid to think it was all about the fights, the annoyances, and not about the love you could have had.

“Please... Ricky. I'm sorry...”

The words escaped you as your sobs grew louder, choking your breath. Your body trembled with grief, the weight of regret pressing down on you until you couldn't breathe. If only you could undo it, go back and rewrite the note. If only you hadn't given up on him, on the marriage, on the chance for something more.

The room felt suffocating now, as though the walls were closing in around you. What now? you thought. There was no future with him anymore. No next step. No reconciliation.

Why had you waited so long to realize how much he meant to you?

You sank deeper into your pillow, tears soaking your face and your hair, wishing for the impossible: for him to walk through the door, to come back, to make everything okay again. But he wouldn't. He couldn't.

And all that was left was you. And the note.

YOUR MOTHER IN LAW’S HANDS TREMBLE AS SHE EXTENDS THE ANCESTRAL RING TOWARDS YOU, her eyes glistening with raw grief. The ring's delicate gold band catches the light, an unwanted reminder of everything Ricky represented—strength, love, an unfinished story.

“He wanted you to have this… but I never thought I’d give it to you now. Not like this,” she whispers, her voice breaking before dissolving into quiet sobs. The sound is so raw it scrapes at your heart. For a moment, the room feels unbearably small, closing in with the suffocating weight of shared loss.

You stare at the ring, fingers hovering uncertainly. The thought of accepting it feels like admitting he’s really gone. Yet, you know you can’t refuse it; Ricky’s wish, even unspoken now, feels sacred. You slip the ring onto your finger, a silent acknowledgment of the man you had once promised yourself to, a man you’ll never get the chance to truly know.

With a hesitant step forward, you place your hand on her shoulder, the touch meant to soothe but feeling fragile, as though it could shatter under the weight of her grief. The older woman leans into you, body racked with tremors as she buries her face in her hands. Her sobs rise and fall in uneven waves, echoing in the otherwise silent room.

“Please… don’t cry,” you whisper, your voice hoarse and cracking at the edges. The night had drained you, leaving your eyes dry yet still burning, poised for more tears that you no longer had the strength to shed.

Her grief pierces deeper. “He wouldn’t want to see you in pain,” you add, voice low, carrying the weight of a plea that even you don’t believe.

“I-I know,” she manages between sobs, her shoulders trembling. “But… he was so young, so full of life. It should’ve been me, not him. He barely started his life, and now…”

The room seems to warp under the heaviness of her words. You know she’s right. The unfairness of it all gnaws at you. But what would Ricky want? The question echoes in your mind, clawing for answers you wish you didn’t have to seek.

You close your eyes for a brief second, conjuring his face in your memory—the way his smile would sneak out when he thought you weren’t looking, the stubborn tilt of his chin when he was determined. You imagine him here, telling you what to do, how to be strong for her when he couldn’t be.

Drawing in a shaking breath, you shift, wrapping your arms around your mother-in-law. She stiffens for a heartbeat before collapsing into the embrace, her body convulsing with grief. Her head rests on your shoulder, and you stroke her back, the gesture rhythmic, almost desperate, as if the act itself could soothe the unsoothable.

“My poor boy… he must’ve been so scared, so alone in those final moments,” she chokes out, and it’s as if a knife twists in your chest. The image of him in pain, of his last moments, blurs the edges of your control. A tear slips down your cheek, a singular escape among the multitude waiting behind your lashes.

“I’m so sorry, Ricky,” you whisper, barely audible. The guilt is relentless, intertwining with the ache of loneliness that had settled deep within you long before he passed. You were alone when he was alive, and now that emptiness has transformed, sharpened by grief, into something more unbearable.

Her sobs quiet, just enough for her to lift her head and take in your expression, your tears mingling with unsaid words. She studies you, eyes clouded by grief but touched with understanding.

“You must feel so alone too… You and Ricky… barely had time,” she murmurs, her voice a weak echo of empathy.

The silence stretches, heavy and uncertain. You meet her gaze and see the exhaustion, the pain mirrored back at you. It anchors you for a moment, before she speaks again.

“You’re still young. You should think of moving forward one day. Remarry, maybe… You’ll always be like a daughter to me, but you have to live, too.”

Your heart clenches, rejecting the thought. You don’t want to. The ache of wanting Ricky, even in a marriage that had felt distant, is a raw wound you can’t imagine healing. The loneliness was familiar; life without him is uncharted, unbearable.

“I won’t… I can’t,” you admit, voice shaking as the tears finally spill, unchecked. “I just want him back. Even if it means being lonely again.”

The words break you open, and this time, neither of you tries to stop the crying. You hold each other in the ruins of shared loss, hoping, against hope, that the pieces of your shattered hearts will one day feel less sharp.

YOUR HANDS CHILLED FROM THE BRISK AIR, DIG DEEPER INTO YOUR COAT POCKETS AS YOU GAZE OUT INTO THE SWIRLING SNOW, a faint numbness settling in your bones. Each snowflake that brushes against your cheek feels colder than the last, a physical reminder of the frost that’s taken root in your heart, a void Ricky's absence left behind. Life has lost its rhythm, its purpose, and the bustling world seems foreign, moving on a beat you no longer recognize.

Nursing, once a passion that filled your heart, now feels suffocating. The once-simple act of caring for patients, seeing them through their darkest times, now stirs something darker inside you—an envy for their hope, their chances. These creeping, bitter thoughts had scared you enough to step back from the only profession you knew. The faces of crying relatives haunted your dreams, their grief striking chords too familiar, too close. You’d sworn to heal, never harm, yet here you are, carrying shadows of guilt too heavy to bear.

The café’s warmth hits you as you push through the door, a momentary comfort against the gnawing cold. You shuffle forward, fingers fumbling in your pocket for money as your eyes wander the room. Ricky had always spoken fondly of this place, a little corner shop with its cozy mismatched chairs and the sweet aroma of cocoa and baked pastries. A small pang clenches your chest, regret whispering its usual 'what ifs.' If only you’d agreed to visit here with him, if only time hadn’t been a cruel master.

The barista, a young woman with weary eyes, glances up as she speaks. “Ma’am, are you ordering?” Her voice, though polite, carries a slight impatience with the growing line behind you.

“Ah, yes… a cold coffee,” you manage, the words falling flat as if they don’t quite belong to you. Her brows lift, a flicker of confusion.

“In this weather?” she asks, a hint of genuine concern lacing her tone.

Realizing the absurdity, you swallow, forcing a small, resigned nod. “Hot chocolate then,” you say, the warmth of Ricky’s recommendation tugging at the edges of your memory.

The exchange is brief, the hot drink pressed into your hands a minute later. As you turn to leave, the weight of the ancestral ring around your finger pulls at you, its cool surface grounding and yet suffocating. The bittersweet metal reflects a dull glow, a silent reminder of promises made and broken, of the love lost and the void left behind.

The wind picks up outside, tugging at your coat as you sip the hot chocolate. Its warmth spreads through you, but it’s fleeting, never enough to touch the ache within. You shake your head, Ricky’s face vivid in your mind, his teasing smile as he’d planned your future dates. You’d push the thought aside, but every step feels like dragging a part of him behind you.

“Why can’t I let go?” you murmur, voice snatched away by the icy air. Your brother-in-law’s words echo in your mind, urging you to stop living in Ricky’s shadow. But how do you tear yourself away from the ghost of a love that never got to finish its story?

Snow clings to your coat as you continue to trudge through the city, each step heavy with an ache that refuses to fade. The glow of the streetlights bathes the snow in a warm, golden hue, contrasting the bitter chill that settles in your chest. Sipping the hot chocolate, you try to focus on the warmth sliding down your throat, but the sweetness only sharpens the emptiness inside. The steam curls from the cup, a fleeting comfort as your breath mingles with it in the frigid air.

You pause near a park bench, eyes darting to couples bundled up, their laughter piercing through the quiet snowfall. One couple stands close, the man adjusting the scarf around his partner’s neck with a smile that makes your heart clench. You bite the inside of your cheek, the taste of copper sharp on your tongue as you fight back the sting in your eyes. The jealousy gnaws at you, sour and uninvited.

The memory of Ricky’s voice flits through your mind, warm and teasing: “Good things happen to good people.” You scoff, the bitterness in that statement now a cruel joke. Were you not good enough? The universe seemed to think so, because it had ripped him away, leaving a hollow shell in his place.

Lost in thought, you find yourself on the bridge, fingers trailing over the iron railing that has frosted over, leaving cool streaks on your gloves. This place, once so filled with light and memories, feels haunted now. You trace a path where your and Ricky’s hands once met, where laughter and shared secrets once echoed.

A voice, small and familiar, intrudes on your thoughts. Semi’s question echoes, fragile and innocent: “Aunty, when will Uncle come home?” You close your eyes, the lump in your throat thickening as the memory sharpens. You remember her wide, unknowing eyes searching yours for an answer you couldn't give, the guilt of that half-truth searing into you as you whispered, “I’m not sure, sweetie.”

You grip the railing tighter, feeling the cold seep through your gloves as the ache of regret claws at your heart. The river below moves steadily, unaffected by the chaos in your chest. You look down, watching the water catch the light in rippling patterns, your reflection distorted and wavering. The noise of the city fades as you breathe in the freezing air, each exhale a shuddering attempt to steady yourself.

A gust of wind stings your face, and you force yourself to look up, straightening with a resolve that feels fragile. Ricky’s brother and his wife were inside your apartment, their watchful eyes filled with concern disguised as casual chatter. You know why they stay—it’s not out of pity, but out of fear, a silent agreement to keep you tethered when your world felt like it was splitting at the seams.

The laughter from the park drifts over again, mingling with the hum of distant traffic. For a moment, you let yourself remember the warmth of Ricky’s embrace, the way he’d nudge your shoulder and murmur, “Life doesn’t stop, even when we want it to.”

“Maybe it shouldn’t,” you whisper into the night, the words barely a breath as they dissolve in the chill.

The warmth of the hot chocolate fades as the biting wind grazes your skin, a cruel reminder of the numbing void left behind. You stare at the bridge, eyes tracing the railings where Ricky’s laughter once echoed. A memory surfaces, unbidden yet vivid.

“I know this isn't what either of us planned, but... I wish we could work it out,” Ricky had said, a touch of hesitation softening his confident voice. His hands, hesitant but steady, hovered near you, respecting the space you held between.

“I wish that too,” you had murmured, the lie sliding off your tongue too easily. You’d convinced yourself you didn't care enough for Ricky then, but the pang of that memory now gnawed at your insides. Regret had a way of reshaping the past, twisting even the most indifferent moments into sharp blades.

“Tell me something about yourself,” Ricky had prodded gently, eyes bright even as he leaned down to meet your gaze.

Caught off guard, you’d raised an eyebrow. “Like what?” The question felt foreign, untouched by anyone's curiosity until now.

“Your ideal type,” he said, the corner of his mouth lifting as though challenging you. His height had always made you tilt your head back to catch his expression—a detail that now felt like a cruel nostalgia.

“Why would you ask that?” You'd played along, teasing but curious.

Ricky chuckled, the sound resonant and warm. “Because we're getting married, and maybe knowing each other better will make it feel less... strange. Maybe, just maybe, we'll fall in love.” His hand, finally settling on your shoulder, had felt reassuring, a silent promise in its touch.

The memory cleaves through you like a knife, leaving behind a raw wound that no time or distance can heal. A single tear slips down your cheek as you blink, the reality of the moment washing over you like a wave. The park across the street bustles with couples walking hand-in-hand, laughter and warmth breaking through the cold that wraps around you. A fresh ache takes root, sharp and relentless.

You drop the empty cup into the trash can, the metallic clang breaking your reverie. The grief, heavy and suffocating, presses you to the edge as you turn and begin the long walk home. Your footsteps are heavy, every step an effort against the pull of the past.

“Aunty, you're so late. Did you bring Uncle with you?” Semi’s small voice meets you at the door, eyes bright with innocent hope. The guilt hits you like a punch, stealing the air from your lungs. Your throat tightens as you shake your head, eyes avoiding her searching gaze.

Jieun, seeing your reaction, sighs softly as she pulls Semi closer. “Semi, we talked about this, remember?” Her voice holds the practiced patience of a mother trying to shield her child from the pain.

“I’m sorry, Mom,” Semi mumbles, eyes dropping to her tiny hands that fidget nervously. The sight twists your heart, guilt layering over the grief that refuses to ease.

You force a hollow smile. “It’s okay, Jieun. She's just a kid,” you say, your voice low and void of emotion as you shrug off your winter coat and hang it up. The familiar routine feels like a play you no longer wish to act in.

“Still, I just—” Jieun’s words falter as you cut her off, your voice breaking the tension.

“Please,” you murmur, the word sharp and desperate, silencing the room. The stillness that follows is suffocating, your breaths shallow as you fight to keep your composure.

Jieun's eyes search yours, understanding but hesitant. “We just don’t want you to be alone,” she whispers, her voice thick with worry.

“I know,” you reply, sitting on the couch with your head hung low, hands clenched tightly in your lap. After a long pause, you add, “But you need to leave. This is your home too, but you have your own life to get back to. I need time... time to figure out how to grieve.” Your eyes don’t lift to meet theirs; you can’t bear to see the disappointment or concern there.

Semi’s voice pipes up again, the innocence piercing through your defenses. “Are you sending us away, Aunty?”

The weight of guilt deepens, pressing into your chest. You close your eyes, feeling the sting behind your lids before you answer. “No, sweetie, I’m not sending you away. You can come whenever you want. Aunty will always be here.” The words come out flat, and you feel them land like lies in the air between you.

Jieun picks Semi up, nodding at you as if she understands, though her eyes glisten with worry. “We’ll give you some space. But we’ll check in. Don’t forget that, please.”

When the door clicks shut, silence wraps around you, heavy and thick. Your gaze shifts to the note you’d prepared earlier, sitting on the edge of the coffee table. The words, written in your own hand, feel foreign now: apologies to the people who stayed, memories they never knew you held, and the final confession of a heart too weary to go on.

You were battling with the urge to just end it all.

The rational part of your brain told you that you were young and had your whole life ahead and that you'd meet a lot of guys in your life but the stubborn heart won't give up and held onto the memory of the guy you once called your husband.

So, you gave up.

A smile, then another.

The city glows beneath you, lights sprawled like constellations cast on earth. The wind at this height is sharp, tearing through your clothes and chilling your skin, as if trying to pull you back from the edge. Your shoes scrape against the concrete ledge, the slight tremble in your legs betraying the battle waging within. The night air smells faintly of rain, metallic and crisp, mingling with the faint hum of traffic below.

You steady your phone in your trembling hand, its cold surface grounding you momentarily. A notification pings, an ironic reminder that life continues to tick on, indifferent to the turmoil within you. The camera lens reflects the shimmer of unshed tears as you hit record, the small red dot staring back like a silent witness.

A smile forms—hesitant, broken. Then another, and another, each one a mask that crumbles too soon. “To everyone who still cares,” you begin, your voice low and cracking, “Semi, sweet, innocent Semi. Jieun, always so patient. Jay... my husband’s shadow in every way. My sister, my friends, all of you who tried.”

The wind picks up, whipping strands of hair across your face as you pause, the weight of the unsaid pressing on your chest. You blink rapidly, tears slipping free, their warmth stinging against your cold cheeks. “Ricky wouldn't want this. I know he'd call me stubborn, weak even.” You let out a hollow laugh, the sound swallowed by the wind. “But he wouldn’t understand how loud it is in the silence he left behind.”

Your heart hammers as you shift your weight, the city seeming to inhale with you, holding its breath in anticipation. The edge of the building digs into the soles of your feet, the space between you and the world below both terrifying and liberating.

“I miss the little moments, Ricky,” you whisper, voice breaking as you squeeze your eyes shut. “I miss you making me feel lonely, and now... now I’m lonelier without you.” The ache in your chest is unbearable, a cavernous void that steals your breath.

One last deep breath, air burning through your lungs, and you step forward. The world blurs into a rush of sound and sensation—wind roaring in your ears, your body weightless, suspended in a moment between despair and peace.

And then the fall hits.

Pain surges through you, sharp and overwhelming, before darkness takes over. Around you, the chaos erupts into a cacophony—screams, the frantic pounding of feet, and the sharp cry of ambulance sirens slicing through the night. But these sounds are drifting away, becoming faint murmurs from a world slipping out of reach.

Silence wraps around you, one that made you feel like everything would be okay after this. Maybe, just maybe, peace waits on the other side. In death.

YOU WALK THROUGH THE DENSE, MILKY FOG, EACH REVERBERATING IN AN ECHO THAT NEVER QUITE SETTLES. The air is cool, feather-light, whispering like distant memories. Is this heaven? The question circles in your mind, unspoken. If it is, where is Ricky? A quiet laugh escapes your lips, hollow. He couldn’t have done enough wrong to land in hell, you think, the hint of humor biting through your longing. Yet, the anticipation twists your heart—an ache that makes you want to see him so desperately.

You try to call out, “Ricky?” but the sound stays trapped in your chest, choked by the thick fog. Another step forward and there’s nothing but endless white, stretching out, swallowing you whole. Your breath catches; suddenly, the air thins, compressing your lungs, squeezing out every ounce of oxygen. You gasp, your hands clawing at the invisible force stealing your breath. It feels like drowning in emptiness.

Then—without warning—everything shifts. White light erupts around you, blinding and all-consuming. You brace for oblivion, muscles tensing for an end you’re sure is near. But instead, there’s a softness beneath you—a mattress that cradles you like an embrace you forgot.

Your eyes snap open, pupils adjusting to the familiar pale ceiling. It’s your ceiling. Your shared room. The bed, the faint scent of Ricky’s cologne still lingering in the sheets, as if he just left. You sit up, heart thundering, hands brushing over your body frantically. No pain, no bruises, no broken bones—nothing. You’re whole, intact.

Then the realization hits you like cold water, and your fingers tremble as you pull them away.

“What the…?” you murmur, eyes darting around, seeking answers that the silent room won’t give. Your gaze falls to the phone on the bedside table, its screen blank and mocking in its stillness. You grab it, breath hitching as the time blinks to life.

January 29th, 2024. 6:30 a.m.

A shiver races down your spine. The date stares back at you, sharp and impossible. You set the phone down, legs feeling weak as you stand and approach the mirror. Your reflection isn’t that of a woman who has been weeping endlessly. Your eyes, dry and wide, reflect confusion rather than the storm of emotions that you carry.

“Is this one of those flashes they say you see before death?” Your voice trembles as the words escape, and you reach up to touch the cold glass. The girl looking back at you does the same, fingers meeting yours in a silent plea.

Then, your eyes catch it. The blue gel pen resting on the dresser—a pen that has no place outside your drawer. It’s a small thing, but the sight of it makes your breath hitch. Memories slice through you, sharp and unforgiving. That pen was the one you’d used for the note to Ricky, the one that demanded space, an end.

“No,” you breathe out, shaking your head, bile rising in your throat. The pen feels like a cruel token, mocking you for what came after. In a swift motion, you snatch it up, the cold plastic biting into your skin as you grip it tight. The weight of your guilt, your regret, turns your stomach, and with a sudden burst of anger, you hurl the pen into the trash, its clatter punctuating the silence like a final plea.

Chest heaving, you close your eyes. If this is some kind of twisted second chance, you don’t know if you should feel terror or relief. But the room, the sheets, the absence on the other side of the bed—everything points to one impossible truth.

You’re back.

But this isn't a romance novel, is it?

Your eyes trail back to the empty bed, where Ricky should be. “Ricky?” The name falls from your lips, hopeful, trembling, but the silence stretches on, suffocating.

Your heart thuds like a wild drumbeat, erratic and desperate, the rhythm matched only by the single hope that propels you forward: seeing Ricky. Alive. Healthy. Breathing.

You practically jog out of the shared bedroom, your bare feet sliding slightly on the hardwood floor as you turn the corner. The guest room door is ajar, a sliver of dim light illuminating the narrow hallway. The pulse in your chest quickens, breaths shallower with each step until you reach the threshold. You pause, drawing in a trembling breath before stepping inside.

There he is. Ricky. Lying on his side, dark hair fanned messily over the pillow, the soft rise and fall of his chest hypnotic in its simplicity. Relief washes over you so powerfully that your knees almost buckle. You inch closer, careful not to make a sound. The blanket is snug around his torso, exposing his bare, muscular chest—the way he prefers when he’s alone. Your throat tightens at the sight, familiar yet so foreign now.

Your hand, almost on its own accord, hovers over his face, fingers trembling as you place them under his nose. The soft, warm breath that meets your touch is enough to sting your eyes with unshed tears. Your hand drifts down, resting against his chest, where you can feel the steady thrum of his heartbeat—a rhythm you thought you’d never sense again.

Ricky stirs, the sudden shift pulling you out of your trance. His eyelids flutter open, dark eyes glazed with sleep but sharpening as they land on you. He blinks once, then again, brows drawing together.

“What are you doing?” His voice, rough with sleep, carries a note of confusion that makes your hand fall away as though burned.

“I-I…” The words snag in your throat, scrambling to make sense of the madness. How could you possibly explain? Your eyes dart nervously to the floor, heat searing your cheeks as you mutter, “I missed your kisses.”

The room freezes. You can feel the weight of his gaze, heavy with disbelief. He shifts, sitting up, and the blanket slips down to his waist, revealing the sharp lines of his torso. Your eyes betray you, flickering over the familiar planes before darting away in embarrassment.

“But… we never kiss,” he says, voice low and edged with confusion. The statement slices through you, painfully reminding you of the distance you both had grown used to.

“I know... I...” you whisper, fingers clenching into fists at your sides. The silence stretches, heavy, until the sharp trill of his phone alarm shatters it. Ricky’s attention shifts, eyes narrowing as he leans to silence it. When he looks up again, the space where you stood is empty.

You rush back to your room, shutting the door behind you with a soft thud, heart hammering in your chest. Sliding down until you sit with your back pressed against the cool wood, you cover your flushed face with shaking hands. Your pulse thunders in your ears, mixing with the replay of his sleepy voice, the fleeting touch of his warmth.

Is this really the past? The question festers, tugging at the edges of logic, but the ache in your chest and the rawness of your emotions tell you it is. And if so, this year holds one horrifying certainty: Ricky’s death.

The mere thought twists something deep inside you, bringing back the soul-crushing grief, the endless nights of regret. You glance down at your wrist, breath catching as your eyes lock on the ink-black date that marks it: November 4th. The day Ricky dies.

Frantically, you rub at the skin, as if the stubborn mark will simply smudge away under your touch. But it doesn’t. The date remains, stark and immovable, taunting you.

A shiver crawls up your spine, but then a thought—a glimmer of defiance—roots itself.

What if you change it? What if this was given to you, not as a cruel joke, but a chance to rewrite what went so terribly wrong? To love him in a way you never did and save him from the fate that once tore your entire world apart.

“I can do this,” you whisper, determination threading into your voice. The regret may have once paralyzed you, but now it fuels you. If you only have until that date, then every second will be spent fighting fate, no matter how impossible it seems.

THE SOFT MURMUR OF THE COUPLE’S CONVERSATION DRIFTS DOWN THE STERILE HOSPITAL CORRIDOR, brushing against your ears like a whispered secret. The woman lies propped against crisp white pillows, her leg encased in a cast, eyes fixed on her partner with a blend of exhaustion and comfort. He leans forward, fingers interlaced with hers, voice low and tender.

“Can you please see what's wrong?” he asks, eyes glistening with concern. He gently squeezes her hand, words spilling out as quiet reassurances. “You're doing so well, love. It's going to be okay.”

A tight warmth coils in your chest as you approach, a familiar pang of bittersweetness shadowing the sight. The love, the unwavering devotion-it's moments like these that remind you why you cherish your job. The fragility of life, held together by threads of connection, has always moved you, even when those threads unraveled in your own life.

When you started nursing, blood was your greatest fear, the sight once enough to turn your stomach. Time had softened those edges, transforming anxiety into steady resolve. It was also during those early years when you married Ricky, the man whose smile was warm enough to banish shadows but whose presence now only haunted your memories. The marriage had lasted five years before everything shattered with the crash.

No. Stop. The thought rushes at you like a wave, cold and suffocating. You grit your teeth, eyes burning as you push it down, push him down, refusing to let the grief claw at you. He's alive here, in this fragile present you've been thrust into. Don't let the past bleed into now.

“Sure,” you say softly, the practiced smile you wear settling on your face. You reach out, fingers moving gently over the girl's cast, checking the edges, ensuring everything is as it should be. She nods in silent gratitude, eyes fluttering shut with relief as her partner exhales.

The end of your shift arrives with the deep hues of twilight stretching across the sky. The drive home is long, punctuated by the soft rumble of the engine and the anxious thrum of your thoughts. Your fingers drum against the steering wheel, tapping out a nervous rhythm. Avoid home, your mind suggests, listing off a million errands you suddenly think of, any excuse to delay the inevitable.

But the excuses run dry when you're standing in front of your door, keys cold against your palm. The air outside is crisp, biting at your cheeks as you draw a deep breath and hold it. The weight of the morning—Ricky’s sleepy, questioning eyes and the ghost of your impulsive words-hangs between you and the door.

“Is it too late to back down?” The whisper escapes your lips, trembling in the chilly silence. You picture his expression, the puzzled furrow of his brow as he replayed your words. The way his fingers brushed over his phone, gaze lifted just in time to see you flee. He isn't stupid. Ricky never was.

With a sigh, you slip the key into the lock, the click loud and final. The door opens, and warmth spills out to meet you, along with the faint scent of his cologne. Your pulse quickens as you step inside, the hum of your heartbeat louder than the quiet creak of the floor under your weight.

Don't run, you tell yourself, even as the urge coils tight in your muscles. You close the door behind you.

As you push open the front door, the faint glow of the television casts flickering shadows across the living room. There he is-your husband, Ricky, reclined on the couch, eyes fixed intently on the news. His brows knit slightly as a montage of suited politicians gestures on screen, their voices droning promises as hollow as a whisper in the wind.

He is basically watching those politicians give some weird and untrue promises for the sake of votes.

How romantic. How normal. The bitter thought twists in your chest. But it isn't. Nothing about this is normal. Why would he be watching the news, of all things? Then, a pang of irony hits you like a wave. How hypocritical, you think. You promised Ricky your forever in a ceremony that now feels like an echo. The vows shared between you had been spoken out loud but never truly lived.

You shake the memory away, an old wound you refuse to pick at as you step inside, the floor cool under your feet. Ricky doesn't notice you at first, his attention locked on the screen, oblivious to the fact that the person who left him a note asking for space now stands in the doorway, wrestling with the tension roiling inside her.

“Hey,” you finally say, the word falling between you like an anchor. It comes out awkward, unsure, a fragile hope that he won't read too much into it. But Ricky's eyes flick to yours, a spark of recognition cooling to something unreadable.

“You're back home?” His voice is measured, neither warm nor cold, but there's a tightness to it that you can't ignore. He shifts, the blue glow of the screen catching the sharp line of his jaw as he waits for your response.

The note. You had slipped it into his hand, asking for a break from a marriage four years deep but hollow. Your heart thuds in your chest, fingers clenched at your side as you speak before fear can pull the words back.

“The note-I take it back. I don't want a break from you or this relationship, Ricky.”

The silence that follows is heavy, broken only by the low hum of the news anchor's voice. His eyes search yours, a hint of disbelief darkening the warm brown you once memorized. “Why?” The question slices through the quiet, clipped and cautious. You almost flinch at the hardness there, a wall built brick by brick in your absence.

“Because I don't want to stay away from you.” Your voice trembles, raw honesty exposed between you like an open wound. Ricky's eyes widen slightly, the stoic mask cracking as a flush creeps across his cheeks.

“Y-You're blushing?” The soft, astonished laugh tumbles out of you, a momentary break in the storm that makes you feel like you're standing on the edge of something new. The corners of his mouth twitch, the faintest sign of a smile, but he shakes his head.

“Sure, sir. You're just cold.” You chuckle, sinking onto the floor beside the couch, knees drawn up as you hug them close. The laughter is sharp, almost giddy, the sound foreign in the room that has held so many silences.

Ricky watches you, confusion settling into his features, the red on his cheeks fading as he leans forward, elbows on his knees. “You're acting weird,” he murmurs, the words half swallowed, uncertain.

“How am I acting weird if I'm seeing my husband show some attraction to me, which isn't platonic, for the first time?” The jest slips out, tinged with sincerity, but it brings a hush over both of you. The truth stands stark between you, glaring and painful. For a moment, neither of you speak, each of you weighed down by memories, by the heavy knowledge of what's been lost and what still aches to be found.

But determination flares in your chest, a stubborn warmth. So what if love had been absent before? So what if promises were half-kept and hearts guarded? You could start again. You could relearn how to be two flawed people willing to try. Your gaze meets Ricky's, the hope in your eyes unyielding.

Don't let go, you silently plead. Let this be the start of something real.

Ricky clears his throat, a subtle attempt to dissolve the tension settling over the living room like a blanket too heavy to lift. His fingers fidget, running nervously over the seam of the couch as he shifts his gaze downward. There you are, still seated on the floor, legs tucked to one side, eyes catching the soft glow from the TV. Cute, he thinks, the word rolling silently through his mind, too heavy with unsaid truths to speak aloud.

“So...” The word escapes him, thin and unfinished, hovering in the air. His eyes flit over your face, searching for a reaction. The awkwardness clings to the silence, but you don't falter.

“So?” you echo, your tone a notch steadier, holding the slight tremor that betrays your effort. You lean forward just slightly, a gesture that feels braver than it is. If courage could rewrite fate, you'd wield it now, not just for yourself, but for him. For Ricky, who might not know the sharp edge of reality that's cut you.

He rubs the back of his neck, glancing to the side where the blue light paints his profile in soft, wavering lines. “You know... Semi's birthday is next week.” His words stumble, trailing off as if second-guessing their own existence. But you aren't in the dark. You know exactly what this moment leads to.

“Yes, I'd love to go shopping for gifts for her,” you respond, your voice quick and practiced. His eyes widen, caught off guard, the surprise stark against his usual composed expression. The tension in his jaw slackens, and he blinks, unsure if he heard you right.

“Excuse me?” He stares at you, the faint crease between his brows deepening.

“Isn't that what you were about to ask?” You tilt your head slightly, a small smile playing at your lips, testing him. He hesitates, realizing that denial means trouble, but his face softens into a relieved kind of acceptance.

“No, no... of course. You could... accompany me to shop for Semi's birthday presents.” His voice picks up, the uncertainty lifting as he finds the path back to normalcy. He notices your smile widening, the tension slipping just enough to let him breathe.

“Okay then, see you tomorrow, husband.” The word slips from you, unbidden, laced with a warmth that surprises even you as you turn on your heel. You make your way toward the guest room, feet padding softly against the floor. Ricky's brows knit again, eyes following your form until you pause, hand on the frame of the doorway.

“Why are you heading to the guest room?” His question is quick, a thread of confusion laced with something else-something vulnerable.

“Because we sleep apart, and I wouldn't want my husband's back to break on that stiff, rough bed. The sheets aren't even comfortable,” you say, voice light but with an edge that dares him to react. You step into the room, but glance over your shoulder with eyes that glimmer, a playful smirk pulling at your lips. “Besides, I'd rather you break your back or get tired doing me than struggling on a bed.”

His jaw drops, eyes wide with stunned silence as the door closes between you. Ricky sits back, eyes fixed on the now-empty hallway, replaying the moment in disbelief. The wife who barely spoke above a whisper at their wedding, who tiptoed through years of silence, had just turned the tables with a single teasing line. His pulse hammers beneath the stillness.

What on earth just happened?

“ARE YOU TELLING ME Y/N JUST TURNED INTO A COMPLETELY DIFFERENT PERSON?” Jay's voice, casual yet curious, echoes through the phone. He's speaking to Ricky, who shifts from foot to foot, eyes glancing around the boutique as he waits for you to finish picking out a dress for his niece. The sound of soft music drifts around him, mixing with murmurs of other shoppers.

“Exactly that!” Ricky’s voice comes out louder than intended, drawing looks from the store's staff. A woman in a sleek uniform, brows raised in disapproval, approaches with a pointed glare.

“Sir, please keep your voice down or refrain from talking altogether,” she says, sternly but professional.

Ricky's ears burn as embarrassment blooms across his face. “Yeah, I'm sorry” he mutters, running a hand through his hair.

Through the phone, Jay's laughter rings clear and unapologetic. “You seriously got told off by staff? Man, you're killing me!” Jay's chuckles fade into a smirk that Ricky can practically hear. Jay's the same as he's always been-playful, relentless, the older brother who teases but listens when it counts.

“Fine, fine, I'll stop. Tell me what you mean by Y/N changing, just... keep it PG, will you?” Jay's tone is teasing, but curiosity laces through.

Ricky’s jaw tightens, eyes scanning the store for you as if your sudden return would put him on the spot. “There's nothing intimate going on between us,” he blurts, the words a knee-jerk reaction. His chest tightens with the memory of you resting your hand on him in your sleep last week, the way warmth had crept through him then. He clears his throat. “I mean, she's talking to me more, being... sweet. She listens. It's almost... submissive.”

“I told you, no bedroom details!” Jay chimes in, sarcasm sharp enough to make Ricky's teeth clench.

“THIS IS NOT A BEDROOM DETAIL!!!” Ricky retorts, frustration coloring his tone. It earns him another hard look from the store associate across the room, who pointedly glances over her glasses. Ricky sighs and mouths an apology again, shoulders drooping as he lowers his voice.

“What I mean is, she's more... attentive. She's not arguing as much. It's like she's listening to me for the first time.”

Jay's voice softens, just a hint of seriousness slipping through. “Isn't that how she always is with others?”

“Yeah, with everyone else. Just not with me,” Ricky admits, the admission heavy with a history neither of them mention.

“Interesting.” Jay's reply is contemplative, but before he can say more, Ricky's voice interrupts, distorted through the line. “Oh shoot, she's coming back. I'll call you later.”

As the call ends, Ricky pockets his phone, glancing up just in time to see you walking back with a smile. Jay, on the other side of the city, sets his phone down, a smirk playing at his lips as he thinks of sharing this tidbit with his wife later. Whatever was happening between his brother and sister-in-law, it was about to get even more intriguing.

On the other side, Ricky stands, a mixture of amusement and curiosity on his face as you hold up a tiny pink dress. It's perfectly frilly, fit for a little girl. But all he can think is how charming it would look in a size for you—a thought that makes him shake his head, realizing how ridiculous it sounds.

“So, what do you think? Should I get this for Semi?” you ask, eyes sparkling with anticipation. There's already a growing collection of clothes for his niece in your arms, a reminder of how you've embraced being part of his family.

“Are you getting all of them?” he asks, more out of shock than judgment. He never imagined children's clothes could come with such hefty price tags.

“Yes, why? Is this too much? I can cover it if—”

Before you can finish, he interrupts, affronted. “I'll pay. It's for my lady, after all.”

The statement hangs in the air, not romantic as he'd intended but awkward, making your brows twitch slightly. You resist the urge to grimace, forcing a polite smile instead.

A staff member, the same one who had shushed Ricky earlier, walks over with an unimpressed expression, exchanging a silent, almost comic glare with him. She gave Ricky a look that said 'you're weird and I don't want to talk to you'

'what have I ever done to you' was the look that Ricky presented back to the staff before she looked away. You glance between them, slightly confused. Then Ricky clears his throat, moving the conversation forward.

“Do you have a similar dress in a bigger size?” His voice drops to almost a whisper. He feels self-conscious asking, but the idea has stuck.

The staff member blinks, taken aback. “Excuse me?” She tilts her head, uncertain if she heard right.

“Yeah, do you have something like this,” Ricky gestures at the dress in your hands, “but, you know, for an adult?” A flush of red creeps across his cheeks as he points to you. The staff member nods after a moment, walking off to search, while you stand there stunned, watching her go.

“Why are you buying something for me? Semi’s dress is already pricey. A woman's size will be—”

“It's just a dress,” he interrupts with a small sigh, eyes softening. “Think of it as a gift.”

“But today isn't anything special.”

“Maybe not. But I'd like to make it special,” he replies, voice lowering. “I haven't given you anything since our wedding. That was four years ago.” His words carry a quiet vulnerability as he looks at you, taller and more serious than you expect. You hold his gaze before shifting and mumbling a reluctant, “Fine,” looking away to hide the way your cheeks warm.

The staff returns holding a similar dress, but in an adult size. It's pink, short, and undeniably cute-something that looks a little too daring for your style.

“Will this do?” she asks.

“Absolutely not,” “hell yeah,” you and Ricky say in unison. The staff's eyebrows raise as she turns to you, sensing you as the more level-headed one.

“We're not buying it,” you insist, giving Ricky a look.

He doubles down. “We are.”

“Ricky, no.”

“Why not?”

“It's too short!” you argue, exasperated. He shrugs, eyes softening as he counters, “It's knee-length. That's normal.”

With a dramatic sigh, you roll your eyes and give in. But you don't try it on in the store; the idea of wearing it in front of him makes your heart thud with a mix of nerves and embarrassment. After all, you've barely even shared a bed in weeks—how could you possibly show him a dress like that now?

RICKY’S HEART STOPS FOR A MOMENT AS HE TAKES IN THE SIGHT BEFORE HIM. You, standing in the baby pink dress that hugs your figure just right, with its soft fabric brushing just above your knees. The playful, shy smile you wear as you twirl slightly sends a wave of warmth through him. He never expected to see you like this; the reality strikes him so suddenly that it leaves him breathless.

The laughter of Semi fills the room as she runs around in her matching pink dress, giggling and pulling you along by the hand. The soft glow of the post-birthday celebration lights casts a golden hue, warming up the atmosphere in the living room. Ricky sits on the edge of the couch, one hand resting on his knee as he watches you and Semi, his gaze softening with an emotion he hasn't felt in what seems like ages.

A gentle nudge breaks his trance, and he turns to see his mother looking at him with raised brows and a hopeful gleam. “When are you two going to have kids?” she asks, her voice light but laced with longing.

The air in the room shifts. You pause mid-spin, eyes darting to Ricky with a look of surprise. This isn't part of the script of your past life; this question throws you off balance, the sudden attention making your heart race.

Ricky’s father, seated across with a glass of wine in his hand, lets out a dramatic sigh. “I think I'll be long gone before I see any grandchildren from this one,” he jokes, though the weight behind it is unmistakable. The statement slices through the room's cheerful mood, leaving an awkward silence in its wake. Ricky's jaw tightens, a subtle tension creeping up his spine. He wants kids too, he really does—but not in a house that feels as unstable as theirs has become.

Before he can respond, you surprise everyone, including yourself. “We're trying,” you say, the words slipping out with practiced ease, even as your pulse pounds. The room freezes, all eyes turning toward you in shock.

Ricky’s eyebrows lift in silent question, but he plays along, shifting to put on an unreadable expression. He nods, the faintest hint of a smile tugging at his lips as he covers the uncertainty boiling beneath. The room shifts back into a mixture of excitement and surprise.

“Is that true? You're both trying?” Ricky’s mother's eyes glisten, her hope rekindled as she looks between you and her son.

“Really?” Ricky's father echoes, leaning forward, his earlier sarcasm replaced by genuine interest.

Jay, standing near the fireplace, furrows his brow, lips parting in disbelief. Only last week, Ricky had confided in him about how distant and weird things had become between you two.

Ricky forces a chuckle, rubbing the back of his neck. “Yeah... we've been trying for a while.” The lie feels heavy in his mouth, and he shoots you a look that says, Why'd you lie about that?

Your sister-in-law, Jieun, raises her hand, pointing at you with wide eyes. “Since when?” she blurts out, unable to contain her shock.

Ricky stutters, “It's been a-a month,” the answer sounding rehearsed yet shaky. He glances at you again, his eyes pleading for an explanation that won't come.

The conversation quickly shifts into an excited buzz, with well-meaning wishes from your in-laws filling the air. You catch Ricky's gaze, and despite the tight-lipped smile you give the family, there's a flicker of humor in your eyes. The absurdity of it all makes you want to laugh.

You both know the truth: the notion of trying for a child is impossibly far from reality.

Heck, it was funny for you to watch.

You were still a virgin. You two didn't even kiss more than once in those four years and they expect a baby to suddenly pop out of you?

And once the party winds down, you find yourself sitting on the couch with Semi by your side. Her wide, curious eyes shine with excitement as she swings her legs back and forth. At just four years old, she's a bundle of endless questions and innocent wonder.

You smile, reaching over to gently ruffle her soft, dark hair. “Does the birthday girl like her dress?” you ask, voice playful.

Semi beams, glancing down at the pink ruffled dress with pride. “It's so pretty,” she chirps, then looks up at you with a thoughtful expression. “But yours is prettier. You always look pretty, Aunty.”

Your heart melts, and you chuckle softly. “Aww, you learned how to give compliments, huh?” you tease, watching as her cheeks turn rosy and she averts her gaze to fiddle with her fingers.

“Aunty!” she whines, wanting you to stop teasing. Her eyes sparkle with mischief as she leans in closer and motions for you to do the same. With a curious tilt of your head, you move closer, letting her whisper into your ear. “Will you eat a baby to have a baby?” she asks, voice so serious it makes you freeze for a moment.

You stifle a laugh, your eyes crinkling at the edges. Gently cupping her cheek, you whisper back, “No, sweetie. That's not how it works. But that's grown-up stuff, and we don't talk about it now, do we?”

Semi giggles, her little fingers playing with a toy she received from her grandmother. The sight makes your chest tighten in a bittersweet way. You can almost picture your mother-in-law doting on a future child, fussing over toys and tiny clothes. The thought sends a shiver down your spine, making you shake your head lightly as if to dispel the image.

But a small part of you can't help but smile at the idea, a blush rising to your cheeks. The dream is distant, almost unreachable, and not yet yours to claim.

When you and Ricky step out into the cold night, the air nips at your exposed legs below your knees. The dress he had picked out for you, delicate and pastel pink, offers little warmth, and the heels are beginning to pinch with every step. You trail behind him, taking careful, aching strides to avoid twisting your ankle.

Ricky notices, stopping suddenly to turn toward you, eyes scanning your shivering frame. “What’s wrong?” His gaze softens as he realizes how exposed you are, legs trembling from the chill. Without hesitating, he shrugs off his jacket and drapes it over your shoulders. The sudden warmth is welcome, but your teeth still chatter as you mutter, “Wish I had something covering my legs instead.”

He exhales, half exasperated, half amused, before a wry smile forms. “Should I carry you like a princess? You’d be warm then.”

Surprised, you bite back a retort, matching his teasing tone with confidence. “Maybe you should.”

Ricky’s eyebrows shoot up, stunned. “Wait, what?”

“Chill, I was just joking,” you mumble, looking down at the ground. But before you know it, he’s stopped again, this time dropping to one knee. Your eyes widen in shock. “WHAT THE HELL?” you blurt out, stepping back in reflex, heat rising to your cheeks at the unexpected gesture. (more so because you believed he was trying to look up your dress)

Ricky looks up, mildly annoyed but patient. “I’m helping you,” he says simply. Before you can argue, he pulls out a pair of slippers from a little carry bag he had brought from home. The realization hits, softening your expression as he glances up. “Lift your leg.”

You comply, feeling foolish for your earlier outburst. He slips the heels off your feet and replaces them with the soft slippers, careful and precise as if proving he has no ulterior motive. The chill in the air suddenly seems less biting.

“You had these the whole time?” you ask, voice softer now, eyes wide with realization. He places the heels into the carry bag, stands up, and meets your gaze with a smirk.

“Yeah. Thought you might need them,” he says, a hint of smugness in his tone. You’re about to thank him when he reminds you with a mock-accusing look, “And you were ready to accuse me of being a pervert.”

The memory makes you feel small, but you muster a sheepish, “Sorry.”

He shakes his head, a touch of amusement in his eyes as the two of you start walking again, your steps now confident and comfortable. His jacket around your shoulders holds a warmth that seems to seep straight to your heart.

“So...” Ricky’s voice cuts through the silence, the question you've been dreading finally arriving. “Why did you lie about... us trying for a baby?” His tone is cautious, probing.

You sigh, the answer already clear in your mind. “It was the only way to get them to stop bothering us,” you admit. A pause follows, your gaze flitting up to meet his. You don’t dare to say more, not with your secret burden looming—coming from a future where he is no longer alive and your mission is to keep him safe.

Ricky hums in agreement, the tension easing a bit. “I can’t argue with that.” A comfortable silence settles between you, only broken by the sound of your footsteps. He glances at you again and asks, “Are you hungry?”

As if on cue, your stomach grumbles. Relief flashes across his face before he reaches out, taking your hand and leading you forward. The two of you approach a small, tucked-away restaurant, its sign faded but familiar. Ricky’s eyes light up. “You have to try the cold coffee from that café across the street,” he points out, the fondness in his voice unmistakable.

You nod, memories flickering back. His odd, endearing preferences were things you never forgot. “Fish curry with plain rice and some shrimp on the side?” you guess, eyes twinkling with recognition.

Ricky’s head snaps to you, surprise clear as day. He stares, a laugh escaping him as he shakes his head. “Since when did you start memorizing my favorites?”

You had heard about his fav things to eat from your brother in law, Jay. But Ricky never said it to you himself so the boy was pretty much stunned when you literally memorised them, as if you were waiting to flex this whole time.

You offer a small, knowing smile. “I have my ways.”

The waiter arrives promptly with your orders, and the rich aroma fills the space between you and Ricky. He takes a bite, but pauses, eyes drifting to you with a soft, contemplative expression. “We’ve never done this before…” he murmurs, his tone a mix of realization and gentle amusement.

You tilt your head, savoring a piece of shrimp. “You mean this date?” you ask, half-smiling.

“Yeah. I guess that’s what I mean,” he replies, taking a moment before continuing, as if gathering the courage. “I like it. I like how we are now.” He takes a sip of water, and the way he watches you is tender, raw. His hand slides across the table to rest over yours, fingers warm against your skin.

“I don’t know what changed, but I…” He hesitates, eyes locking with yours, a profound intensity that silences you. “I like how we’re not avoiding each other anymore, how we talk instead of fighting over every little thing.”

The sincerity in his words pierces through you, tugging at memories of a future where his absence left a hollow ache in your chest. The pain you’d carried, the distance, the loss—all of it feels heavy in this moment, but now, something else unfurls within you. An unexpected warmth that swells as his thumb brushes over your knuckles.

He draws in a shaky breath. “I know I’m not perfect. I’ve made mistakes, maybe too many, and that’s why we kept drifting apart in those four years we were married. But I want us to stay like this. Is that too much to ask for?” His voice cracks, eyes glistening with unshed tears.

The depth of emotion he shows takes your breath away, and your vision blurs as your own tears spill over. The raw honesty in his confession reaches a part of you that had long been buried under grief and guilt. But this isn’t grief—it’s something different, a warmth that wraps around you and fills the spaces that loss once consumed.

“Ricky…” you whisper, voice trembling. He blinks rapidly, tears tracing paths down his cheeks as he tries to manage a laugh, a hand lifting to wipe at his face. “Did I go too overboard?” he chuckles, awkwardly, brushing his fingers over yours, an attempt to ease the intensity.

But you can’t answer with words, your heart too full. Instead, you wipe your own tears away, watching him as he takes a deep breath and resumes eating, eyes still red-rimmed, his emotions raw and vivid between you. The silence that follows is... a little satisfying this time around. Your chest tightens, and you realize this feeling—this unexpected, overwhelming tenderness—is the spark you hadn’t felt in what feels like forever.

The confession... It did something to you. It made you feel things or you believed so.

You reach for his hand, this time without hesitation, and hold on as if anchoring both of you to this moment. A shared glance tells him everything you can’t yet put into words: you’re here, with him, and for now, that’s enough.

AS THE DAYS PASSED FOLLOWING THAT UNEXPECTED DINNER, a subtle shift had occurred between you and Ricky. It had been a month since then, and despite your hectic lives—you, a dedicated nurse, and him, an ambitious lawyer—something had changed. You continued to sleep separately, a necessity due to your conflicting schedules. Late nights saw you returning home to find Ricky already asleep, and early mornings had him leaving before you awoke. This unspoken arrangement was born out of mutual respect for each other’s rest.

However, the reminder of the future haunted you. The date on your wrist, November 4th, hadn’t faded or smudged. It remained stark and vivid, a grim reminder of the fate you knew awaited Ricky, filling you with silent dread.

Despite your busy lives, the dinner at that small restaurant had stirred something unspoken between you. A shared tenderness had taken root, and in the brief pauses between work, you found yourself drawn to those moments that whispered of possibilities—moments that spoke of a bond that hadn’t existed before.

The room feels charged with an unspoken tension as you stand there, watching Ricky. The question slips from your lips, “Are we sleeping separately again?” masking the tremble in your voice with an attempt at confidence. Ricky’s eyes meet yours, an amused smile playing on his lips as he tilts his head. “Do you want to sleep with me?” he asks, casual yet knowing.

You stammer, trying to find an answer that won’t reveal how vulnerable you feel. “No—yes—but—” The uncertainty in your voice makes him chuckle softly, the sound sending warmth through your chest. The realization of your feelings for him washes over you again, clear and inescapable.

“It’s normal to want to sleep with your husband. Don’t worry,” he says reassuringly. His tone is light, yet there’s an edge of tenderness as he turns and walks to the bedroom. He pauses at the doorway, looking back with an expectant eyebrow raise, and you follow.

Inside, the dim light casts soft shadows. The atmosphere feels different tonight, heightened by the realization that, while you’ve shared this space before, this moment feels profoundly intimate. He hesitates for a moment, the usual playful confidence in his manner replaced by a quiet consideration.

Should he lie down first?

Wait for you?

Or speak?

“You don’t need to worry. I won’t touch you unless you want me to. We could even put a pillow between us if you prefer,” he says in a rush, trying to ease the tension. But his words leave you both flushed. You respond, flustered yet honest, “No—you can touch me—I mean...”

Ricky’s eyes widen, and a surprised silence falls over you both, broken only by your slightly quickened breaths.

Finally, you break it, murmuring, “So... do we sleep?” You wish the dim light hides your expression, but Ricky’s shifting on the bed signals that he’s as unsettled as you are. He lies down first, and you follow, settling into the bed with a space that feels simultaneously too close and too distant.

Minutes pass as the darkness deepens around you. You’re aware of every sound, every breath he takes, and the slight rustle of sheets as you both try to find comfort. The knowledge that he’s staying dressed out of respect doesn’t escape you, and neither does the chill that seeps through the room, despite the blanket. It’s enough to make sleep elusive, even as your heart drums with quiet, unspoken hope.

The air feels thick with tension as neither of you can fall asleep, despite the dim light and the shared silence. Ricky gently sits up, his voice breaking the stillness. “I’ll get changed into my night clothes—this is uncomfortable. You should get changed too,” he suggests. His words are practical, but they stir a shyness inside you. The thought of wearing shorts around him makes you feel self-conscious, though the blanket and darkness give you some comfort.

With a deep breath, you agree. You grab your oversized top and shorts, retreating to the bathroom to change. When you return, Ricky is already asleep, dressed in a soft T-shirt and shorts. His peaceful expression makes a pang of guilt settle in your chest. You feel both relief and unease at the same time, knowing he’s so close yet so far away.

You lie there, tense in the stillness of the night. Ricky’s hand lands instinctively on your stomach, the warmth of his touch sending a jolt through you. You hold your breath, carefully shifting his hand away. Just when you think you're safe, his leg shifts under the blanket, pressing gently between your legs. A rush of heat floods your chest as you gently push his leg away, silently exhaling in relief.

In the quiet, you watch him sleep. His messy hair, a small trail of drool escaping his lips—something inside you stirs. Without thinking, you bring your thumb to wipe away the drool, brushing it lightly against your shirt. You stare at him for a moment, your heart racing in ways you can’t fully understand.

For Ricky though,

He wakes to find you so close, your noses nearly touching. A small breath escapes him as he pulls back, but then he notices your body, curled into him—one of your legs and arms wrapped around him, as if clinging to his warmth to escape the cold. You’re nestled so comfortably against his chest, and though a small part of him wants to get up, he finds himself content in the moment.

He stares at you, watching as he slips his fingers through your hair, the quiet intimacy settling around him like a comforting blanket. When you stir, half-awake, he expects you to pull away. But you don’t. Instead, you bury yourself further into his chest, and he smiles, a little amused by your unconscious need for closeness.

“Morning... Baby,” he says softly, though he’s hoping you’ll move just enough for him to slip out of bed.

“Morningg,” you murmur, nuzzling his chest. He notices how you don’t seem to mind the nickname, a small sign that you’re still in that dreamy, sleepy state. He wants to pull away, but he doesn't want to disturb you, so he asks, “Can you move a bit, baby?”

You barely stir, your arms and legs still tangled with his. “Too cold,” you mumble, your voice muffled against his shirt.

“I know, baby. I’ll turn the heater on for you, is that good?” he whispers, his voice tender. He’s careful not to wake you fully, knowing you won’t even remember this when you wake up.

An hour later, you wake up alone in the bed, the soft comforter still wrapped around your legs. You stretch and yawn, rubbing your eyes, only to hear the door creak open. Ricky stands there, a plate in hand—an omelette and a fruit salad. You blink, unsure if you’re still dreaming, and pinch your cheek, just to make sure this isn’t some figment of your imagination.

“What's that?” you ask, your voice still thick with sleep.

“Breakfast in bed,” Ricky says with a playful grin, setting the plate down in front of you.

“For me?” you ask, surprised and touched.

“Who else?” he replies with a shrug, like it's the most natural thing in the world.

“Why...?” You blink at him, unsure of why he's being so considerate, so affectionate.

“Why not?” he answers, teasing, but there’s a sincerity in his eyes that makes your heart flutter.

You stare at the food in front of you, but the nerves kick in. “Well, uhm... I haven’t brushed.”

“It’s okay,” he reassures, waving off your concerns.

“No, it’s not. It’s gross. I do care about germs,” you argue, a bit embarrassed. Before he can say anything else, you rush off to brush your teeth, feeling a little self-conscious. You quickly freshen up, brushing your teeth with the toothpaste, hoping that’ll help with the lingering awkwardness.

When you return, you take a bite, and the emotion hits you harder than you expect. You don’t quite know why, but the tenderness of his gesture fills you with gratitude, and a soft lump forms in your throat.

“Why?” you ask again, your voice shaky, as you sip some water. The question has been swirling in your mind ever since you saw him standing there, holding that plate.

“Hm?” he hums, genuinely confused, not fully understanding why you're so emotional.

“Why are you being so nice... and romantic?” You wince after speaking, regretting your words, but you can't take them back now.

Ricky tilts his head, his smile fading slightly. “Like I said a month ago... I meant those words. I want us to stay like this... And not go back to how it was in those four years.. Are we really that immature to let it happen again?” The vulnerability in his tone catches you off guard, and for a moment, you can see the hurt in his eyes.

It's raw, honest, and you feel a knot twist in your chest, not having a reply to his genuine question.

THE DAYS AND MONTHS THAT FOLLOW ARE UNEXPECTEDLY TENDER, filled with moments that remind you of what being husband and wife is meant to feel like. The shared smiles, lingering touches, and quiet mornings are sweeter than they have ever been, and for the first time in a long while, peace seems attainable. Yet, there is an undercurrent that stirs beneath it all—the date that looms, casting a shadow over your contentment.

November 4th.

With the month drawing nearer, your heart starts to tighten with an anxious grip. Paranoia seeps into the quiet moments, the fear of what November 4th could mean—what it has meant in the past—makes the days feel more fragile. Your mind races, replaying scenarios and doubts that you can’t shake off. Each sweet gesture, each kind word from him, is tinged with the knowledge that the date approaches, threatening to unravel everything you’ve rebuilt.

Ricky’s expression is heavy with exhaustion, dark circles under his eyes hinting at the long day he’s had. You offer, “I’ll heat up the dinner,” and turn toward the kitchen, but he stops you with a gentle grasp around your wrist. Before you can react, he pulls you back, pressing you against the wall. The soft strains of a romantic song drift from the living room, creating an intimate, almost fragile atmosphere.

He’s close—closer than usual—and you feel the warmth radiating from his body as well as the subtle scent of his cologne. The proximity sends your pulse racing.

“Ricky?” you say softly, confusion lacing your voice as you look up at him. His face is unreadable, the dim lighting casting a shadow over the tired lines of his features. His eyes meet yours, carrying an unspoken emotion.

“Mm?” he murmurs, his voice hushed, as if not to disturb the moment. His hands find their way around you, holding you securely against him, and he leans his chin on your head. The gesture feels protective, desperate even.

“What are you doing?” you ask, your words barely above a whisper, unsure if you’re seeking clarification or reassurance. His embrace tightens for a moment, and you feel his chest rise and fall against yours as he takes a deep breath.

“Can you stop calling me Ricky?” he says quietly, the request landing softly, yet weighted.

Surprise flashes through you. “What do you want me to call you?” you ask, voice muffled against his shirt. The question feels vulnerable, as if shifting something fundamental between you both.

“I don’t know... something like... baby, darling, honey... or anything,” he admits, a subtle flush spreading across his cheeks despite the solemn tone. You catch the shy dip of his eyes, and a faint smile tugs at your lips.

“You’re being quite demanding,” you tease, looking up into his face. His lips part slightly as he considers your words.

“This isn’t being demanding,” he counters, pausing just long enough for the silence to underline his meaning. His eyes search yours, raw and full of an unnamed plea. “I just want to spend my last months with you, thinking we’re just... normal. Like any other couple.”

His words sink in, bringing with them an ache that spreads through your chest. The silence that follows is heavy, laced with all the things unsaid and the truth that’s pressing in on both of you. You lift a hand, letting your fingers brush the hair at the back of his neck. His eyes soften, dark lashes casting shadows against his skin as he watches you.

There’s something fragile in this moment, a bittersweet understanding passing between you that makes your throat tighten. The future looms, uncertain and unkind, but for now, you’re here, held close, suspended in the tender present.

Ricky’s voice lowers, a tremor in its depths that betrays the weight of his words. “You might not believe me, but... I come from a reality where I’m dead. So, I hope we can at least be nice to each other in my last moments. Can you do that?”

A stunned silence follows, your breath catching in your throat as his confession hangs in the air. You believe him; how could you not when you come from the same reality? Eyes widening, you step back, raising your wrist to show the dark, unerasable mark: November 4th. The ink-like number seems to pulse, a constant reminder of a fate that binds you both.

Ricky’s eyes mirror your shock. He releases you, just enough to reveal his own wrist. There it is, the same haunting date. The mark seems alive, almost mocking, as if counting down with every heartbeat.

Neither of you speaks for a moment, the silence heavy with shared grief and realization. The next second, you’re in his arms again, your face buried in his chest as he pulls you close, his own face pressed into your hair. The world around you blurs, reduced to the rapid thumping of your heart and the warmth of his embrace.

“I... please don’t... leave me this time,” you plead, your voice breaking under the weight of your fear. The memory of finding him lifeless in the world you came from, the coldness of that reality, rushes back with a cruel force.

“I will try,” he whispers, his voice barely steady as he runs a hand down your back in a soothing gesture. “We changed the relationship, right? So maybe... just maybe, we can avoid death too.”

You both stand there, unmoving as the moment stretches out. It feels absurd, two souls transported from a fractured future, now clinging to each other in the present in a fragile hope. Yet the thought of letting go is unbearable, so you don’t. For now, the reality of the present is enough.

RICKY’S FINGERS TREMBLE SLIGHTLY AS HE HOLDS OUT THE SMALL BOX, A HINT OF NERVOUSNESS CREASING HIS BROW. “This is for you.” His voice is softer than usual, his eyes searching yours for a response. The box is familiar, a relic from the present you left behind, steeped in memories. Inside is the ancestral ring, one that Ricky’s mother entrusted to you after his death—a token that held more value than any wedding ring could.

“I wasn’t... couldn’t give it to you before, but now... I’d like you to have it.” His voice is almost a whisper as he takes your hand, slipping the cool metal onto your finger. His touch lingers, warm and careful, as if anchoring the moment between you.

You look down at the ring, its delicate design catching the dim light and glistening softly. The weight of it brings back a rush of memories that mix grief with an unexpected warmth. Meeting his gaze, you let a small, genuine smile curve your lips. “Thank you. After you… I mean, after your death, your mother gave it to me,” you say, voice thick with the past, “but I’m glad it’s you giving it to me now.”

The way his eyes widen before softening speaks volumes—acceptance, regret, and hope, all blending seamlessly as he draws you closer.

Ricky’s expression shifts, a soft smile forming as he leans in, his body pressing yours gently against the bedroom wall. His breath mingles with yours, warm and scented faintly with his cologne. His eyes trace your features, holding a glimmer of something tender and fragile. You raise a brow in playful defiance, a silent challenge, and a sheepish smile tugs at his lips. Without another word, he cups your face, his thumb grazing your cheek, and leans in until the space between you disappears.

The first touch of his lips is tentative, testing. A shiver races down your spine as his mouth moves with a gentleness that makes your heart stutter. Your eyes flutter open for a second, catching the serene expression on his face before closing again as you respond, deepening the kiss. Your hands find their way to his shoulders, fingers curling into the fabric of his shirt as if anchoring yourself to reality.

When he finally breaks away, his forehead rests against yours, both of you breathing in short, uneven gasps. The room is silent except for the soft crackle of a song playing somewhere in the background. Ricky’s eyes open, and in them, you see a question—a hesitation laced with anticipation. “Do you want to go further?” His voice, barely above a whisper, holds a vulnerability that makes your pulse quicken.

You exhale softly, a hint of a smile teasing your lips as you match his boldness. “How far can you go?” The playful edge in your voice makes him chuckle, low and breathy.

“As far as you want to go.” The words are a promise, and before you can respond, his lips capture yours again, more confident this time, as his hand moves to the strap of your dress, gently sliding it off of your shoulders.

THE NEXT FEW WEEKS PASS IN A COMFORTING CALM, the bond between you and Ricky strengthening with each passing day. You're no longer weighed down by the regret of the past, but instead, you focus on cherishing the present. Yet, there's still a lingering unease.

Ricky driving the car is something that continues to gnaw at you. It's not just a simple fear; it's the haunting memory of the future you came from, where that very action led to his tragic end. As November nears, the pressure builds. You look at the date on your wrist—November 4th—and the thought of losing him again, of it becoming reality, is too much to bear. Your chest tightens, and you feel a mix of helplessness and dread, hoping with every fiber of your being that this time, things will be different.

Ricky offers a reassuring smile, the kind that tries to mask his own unease as he softly says, “Chill, I’ll be back in an hour, alright?” His hand moves up to gently smooth your hair, eyes soft with understanding as he takes in the worry etched across your face. You cling tighter to his arm, voice trembling as you ask, “Is it important?”

He nods, and the hopeful part of you crumbles. The instinct to keep him close, to refuse, is almost overwhelming. But before you can protest, he leans forward, placing a tender kiss on your forehead. His hands slip down to rest on your shoulders as he looks at you earnestly.

“I promise I’ll be back. Now, will my pretty wife give me a smile so I can come back even sooner?” The playful plea tugs at your lips, and despite the fear swirling inside, you manage a small, forced smile. He chuckles softly, ruffling your hair before turning to leave.

You trail behind him to the door, eyes glued to the taillights of his car as they fade down the street. The ache in your chest sharpens, and you glance down at the ancestral ring on your finger, tracing its smooth surface as if the touch alone could make your wish come true: Please, come back safely.

The minutes stretch painfully long, and every ten minutes, you can’t resist sending a text, the same anxious message: “If you’re okay, just send a heart emoji.” True to his word, Ricky replies with a heart every time—until the fifty-minute mark.

The silence is deafening. Your heart thunders as you stare at your phone, willing the screen to light up. Nothing. The dread coils tighter, stealing the air from your lungs. You take a shaky breath, but it barely settles you. Panic sets in, and you hit the call button. The phone doesn’t connect; the ring tone never plays. Your chest tightens.

In desperation, you call Jay, your brother-in-law. His voice is laced with confusion as he picks up. “Jay, is Ricky with you?” The silence that follows your frantic question only amplifies your fear. “No, why? What’s going on?” he asks, suddenly serious. Before you can answer, he cuts the call, sensing the urgency and attempting to help in any way he can.

The next hour drags like an eternity, your anxiety swallowing every rational thought. You pace the room, eyes darting to the clock, phone clenched in your shaking hand. Then, after what feels like a lifetime, you hear the distant purr of an engine. Your pulse stutters as Ricky’s car comes into view, whole and unharmed.

But you don’t relax. Not until you see him. The door swings open, and there he is, frustration etched into his features as he steps inside. Your breath catches, relief and anger colliding within you.

Ricky's expression softens as he speaks, keeping his voice low despite the frustration. “Why’d you call Jay over something like this? My phone died while I was working. I charged it and got caught up in the case. It’s embarrassing.”

Your eyes well up, the weight of worry turning to a sting of hurt. “So? It’s not important?” Your voice wavers, raw with emotion. “I was terrified, Ricky! I didn’t want to lose you again. Sorry for being the clingy wife you’re ashamed of.”

Turning to leave, you barely make a step before he’s there, blocking your path. His eyes search yours, but instead of a defensive remark, he pulls you close, enveloping you in an embrace that tells you more than words could. His arms tighten, anchoring you to him as he murmurs in your ear, “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it like that. It’s strange, but I promise I won’t say that again, okay?”

His breath is warm against your hair as he leans his cheek on your head, his heartbeat steady against your own erratic one. Despite the tension, you sense his understanding, a silent acknowledgment of your fear. He’s learning to hold your worry without judgment.

“I was so scared, Ricky. I thought I’d lose you all over again.” Your voice cracks, and he feels the tremor in your body. He wants to say the right thing, anything to soothe the tremble in your words, but all he can do is hold you tighter.

Both of you are haunted by that date imprinted on your wrists, “November 4th.” A reminder that looms like an uninvited shadow, a constant whisper of what could happen.

THE DAY ARRIVES, a heavy silence filling the air between you and Ricky. His promise lingers like a protective shield around you both: he won’t drive, he won’t leave. His presence is a balm for the fear that pulses in your chest. As the two of you snuggle on the couch, the soft glow of the TV playing a rom-com, you turn to him with a worried look, your voice low and unsure.

“What if something bad happens while we’re in the house?” you whisper, nuzzling into his warmth. The thought of losing him, of the world continuing without him, feels unbearable.

Ricky shifts, his arm wrapping tighter around you as he looks down at you, his breath warm against your neck. “Nothing will happen. And if it does, I’ll protect you,” he assures, his tone strong and sure, though his own heart is heavy. He knows how much your fear weighs on you, and he wants to shoulder it for you.

But the thought of you living without him—he can’t imagine it. He brushes your hair from your face gently, his voice a soft promise. “I love you too much for that.” His words come out naturally, like it’s something he’s been holding back but feels right now to say. It’s the first time you hear him say it, and the weight of those words floods your heart with warmth, knowing this is real.

“I get it. I won’t put my life at risk,” he murmurs, though there’s a quiet uncertainty in his words, an unspoken truth that he would never let anything harm you—even at the cost of his own safety.

You glance up at him, your lips pressing together in a worried frown. “You better not,” you mumble, not able to let go of the fear completely. You’ve spent the whole day together, in the safety of your home, trying to ignore the impending dread that the date will pass and nothing will change. Watching TV, cooking together, each small moment a reminder of how much he means to you—and how fragile life can be.

You curl up closer to him, as if physically wrapping yourself around him can keep him safe. Your eyes glance at the clock, the seconds ticking by too slowly. Every moment spent together now feels like a treasure, and you want to hold on to it forever.

The two of you lie in bed, the soft glow of the nightlight casting a gentle warmth over your forms. His hand rests tenderly over yours, fingers interlocking. He watches you as you sleep, your face relaxed, peaceful. A quiet whisper escapes his lips: “I love you.” His eyes linger on your peaceful expression, your other arm still clinging to him as if you’re unwilling to let go even in sleep.

He leans over to turn off the lamp, and then his gaze falls to his wrist—where the date once was. It’s gone. A wave of disbelief washes over him. The tension that has gripped him for so long begins to melt away. Perhaps it wasn’t an omen after all, but a reminder that after November 4th, a new chapter awaited them both.

He takes a deep breath, reaching for your wrist to find the same thing: no date. Relief floods him, and he presses a soft kiss to your forehead, pulling you even closer into his arms, savoring the moment.

But he knows, as much as this moment feels like a new beginning, there will still be challenges ahead. The fear you carry about him driving is not something that will fade overnight. Your worry, rooted in a past he knows you can’t shake, will take time to heal. But for now, he holds you close, understanding, and promises silently that he’ll be patient, allowing you to find peace in your own time.

TWO MONTHS HAVE PASSED SINCE THE FATEFUL DATE, and though life has taken you and Ricky through different stages, there’s an undeniable warmth between the two of you. Sitting at the family dinner table, surrounded by loved ones, the air is filled with laughter, conversation, and the quiet hum of joy.

Semi, now a cheerful five-year-old, eats her meal quietly, occasionally looking up with shy glances.

You glance over at Ricky, noticing him take a deep breath as he prepares to speak, his hand resting on the table near yours. It’s clear he’s nervous, even though it’s just family. He clears his throat, the words finally tumbling out: “So… We’re having a baby.”

There’s a beat of silence.

Ricky’s father scoffs, not giving him an ounce of reaction, while his mother rolls her eyes. “Oh, c’mon, you can fool us one time, not twice,” she says, clearly referencing the last family dinner, where you had tried to casually mention trying for a baby, only for him to play along. He felt the blame was entirely on him, but you knew the truth—it was a team effort.

You chuckle softly to yourself, leaning into Ricky’s side, your heart fluttering at the thought of a new life, a new chapter. He meets your gaze, his lips curving into a small smile, even amidst the teasing.

This moment, while filled with playful mockery, marks something deeper. You’re finally here together, stronger and more united than ever before. And this new adventure? It’s the start of a new journey that no one can take from you.

“Really, Y/n’s pregnant. We're having a baby,” Ricky says, his voice laced with excitement. His mother, skeptical, eyes you closely. “Is that true?”

Without waiting for Ricky’s confirmation, you nod, feeling his fingers intertwine with yours beneath the table, his touch calming your nerves.

"I won’t hesitate to beat your ass if this is fake," his dad grumbles, irritation mixing with a hint of hope.

Jay, barely containing his amusement at the scene, watches the family react, while Ricky proudly pulls out the ultrasound pictures, revealing the truth. His parents take turns looking at the images, jaws dropping in surprise. Jay, knowing already, can’t help but chuckle.

"Father was starting to question your masculinity. Glad you proved him wrong," Jay teases, earning a gentle nudge from Jieun, urging him to keep it light.

"Wait... So there’s a grandkid on the way?" Ricky’s mother recovers first, grinning with hopeful excitement. Ricky nods, and your heart swells at the thought of everything that's to come. This moment, this family, it feels like the beginning of something truly special.

Ricky’s mother leans forward, still processing, but the excitement is slowly bubbling up. “A grandchild? Really? My little boy having a little one? I’m going to spoil that baby so much.”

Ricky chuckles, glancing at you. “Well, you already spoil Semi enough, so I guess it’s fair.”

“Hey, I’m a great grandma-in-training,” she quips, giving Semi an affectionate pat. “But if you two need any advice, I’m here.”

Your heart swells seeing the warmth in her eyes. But then, Ricky’s dad, clearly trying to keep his cool, mutters, “I’ll believe it when I see a baby in my arms.”

“You’ll see him,” Ricky says, giving you a reassuring squeeze. “Or her, right, Y/n?”

You smile, feeling the weight of the moment. “Definitely,” you whisper, feeling a rush of emotion.

Jay, still grinning, can’t help but poke at his younger brother. “So, what’s the plan, huh? You two gonna have one of those perfect Pinterest-worthy baby showers or just skip the whole thing?”

Jieun smacks his arm lightly. “Don’t make them nervous, Jay. Let them enjoy the moment.”

Ricky laughs, looking over at you with that same loving gaze. “Honestly, I think we just need to take it one step at a time. But yeah, we’ll get there.”

“You know, when you have a baby, you’ll see just how much you need each other,” his dad says more seriously now, a rare moment of wisdom breaking through his tough exterior. “It’s not just about being a parent, it’s about being there for each other even more.”

Ricky nods, his hand tightening around yours as if to say, “I’ve got you, always.”

The whole family seems to settle into a comfortable silence after that, everyone soaking in the news in their own way, but all of them sharing the same unspoken bond.

“Guess we’ll need one more chair for next time,” Jay jokes, breaking the silence, and everyone bursts out laughing.

You glance at Ricky, his eyes full of joy, and your heart feels fuller than it ever has. There’s something about being surrounded by family—being with him—that feels right. “Yeah, we’ll need one more chair,” Ricky agrees softly, his gaze drifting to the future, to the family that’s just beginning.

In the end, you and Ricky had proven the vows true—til death do us part. Through all the challenges, fears, and moments of doubt, you had always found your way back to each other. The promises made, the trust built, and the love that had endured everything now stood as a testament to what you had together. With every touch, every shared laugh, and every quiet moment, you knew that no matter what, your hearts were bound—for life—and beyond.

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feyreswaterybowels · 10 months ago

Text

⭒The Silent One⭒

#1 Azriel x Fem!OC

⭒Part 1⭒Part 2⭒Part 3⭒Part 4⭒

Word Count: 4k

Summary: Velaris was home to many pleasure houses but when the high lord learns the owners of these houses aren’t abiding bu long reigning laws he and his inner circle steps in—in the process taking in an Illyrian female that had been abused and tormented.

Warnings/Tags: mute character. slow burn romance. trauma. sexual abuse. found family. building romance/trust after trauma. violence. strong female character. protective!azriel. protective!IC.

Authors Note: All likes, re blogs and comments are welcome, appreciated and highly encouraged! Let me know if you’d like to be added to the tag list for the next part! Bold italics are mental communication, regular italics are inner thoughts.

⋆ ݁⟡ ݁☾ ݁⟡ ݁⋆

The smell of smoke was thick in the air. The floor was wet, the air moist and chilled. The building Azriel and Cassian just entered was one of the many pleasure houses in Velaris. This was no ordinary visit for pleasure. No. They were on a mission per their High Lord’s command.

The Velvet Pearl was a pleasure house where those who entered could pay for sexual services. Men and women alike were welcome and the Pearl was known to have anything a person was looking for—whether that be a specific species, body type, hair color, skin color or a specific act. It could all be found here. The Mistresses made it their job to comb through the streets looking for those who would enjoy the work.

That’s what led their mission here tonight. Pleasure houses are no secret in Velaris. They are out in the open. There can be one found for many vices. Gambling, dancing, drinking and of course sex. There aren’t many rules for these houses by the High Lords command, but a big one had been broken recently.

Consent.

The law of consent in these pleasure houses is major, one of the most important to the High Lord, Rhysand, and the ones before him. One cannot force another to drink. One cannot force another to gamble. Once cannot force another into sexual acts. Any person visiting or working at these establishments must be there of their own free will.

With the pleasure houses specifically this rule had been broken when one of Azriel’s spies fled into Rhysand office, informing him of many pleasure houses buying fae citizens off of families who needed money. The high lord was shocked, they hadn’t had any issues like this in centuries. He immediately summoned his inner circle looking to them for advice.

That’s how Azriel and Cassian ended up here now. They, and a few other soldiers, were to patrol the pleasure houses for the next few night. Look and listen for any signs that confirm the information given to them.

The Velvet Pearl was a very niche business. A large luxurious building, mirrors lined the outside walls reflecting the beauty of Velaris on the outside. The inside however was lined and decorated in blacks, red, green and golds. The lights were low and colorful. A huge bar with various types of wines, liquors, spirits and beers. They always had heavy music playing. Poles and stages for the workers to dance on. On the upper most floors were doors lining the walls. Private rooms that could be paid for and used for the services.

However, the luxury ended when one entered the Dungeon as they called it. A fitting name for the place they had just entered. The place where one picked their partner for the night. Caged cells lined the room and sat atop one another zig-zagging around the room like a maze. Males and females, mostly lesser fae but some high fae as well, a few different species. All naked. All pressed against the bars of their enclosures. Heavy lidded eyes trained on the two massive Illyrian warriors before them. Reaching out to touch, but not actually touching, they all knew better than to touch anyone who doesn’t explicitly ask for it. Some of them, however, touched one another through the bars, enticing a buyer to take them both for the night.

“I’m really good at wing play, I’ll make you cum in less than a minute,” A pretty fae, purred. Lesser fae Azriel noted, long dark hair curled around her perky breasts, skin a dark blue with eyes to match. She was definitely attractive.

“Sorry, I prefer it to last a little longer than that,” Cassian winked at her, getting a giggle in return. Azriel rolled his eyes but a barely there grin that only his brother would notice played on his lips.

They continued on. Looking at every fae in the room. Analyzing them, reading their body language making sure they truly wanted to be here. These fae, as they should, all seem to love their job. That’s how it should be. It’s when they got to the end of the line, nearly out of the room that things took a turn.

A cell that was previously empty was now occupied by a female and a mistress—mistresses only accompanied new workers. A snap echoed through the space and the two warriors shared a look before walking over. Both hiding their shock at the sight in front of them.

There pressed against the back of the cage was a female, not just any female though. Her eyes were wide as she watched them approach. Eyes scanning their wings, siphons and weapons. Pushing herself into the corner and trying to cover her nakedness with her hands. Another snap echoed, her hands dropping to the side as she cried out when the mistress struck her thigh again.

“No need for that,” Azriel growled. His shadows raced around him, curling around his ear to whisper to him.

Glamor. The female is glamored. They hiss.

He gave Cassian a side eye before locking eyes with the mistress.

“Remove her glamor,” Azriel ordered. The mistress blanched, eyes wide in shock.

“I don’t know what you’re—”

“Do we need to tell Thane you don’t know how to follow orders?” Cassian snarled. She gave a meek head shake.

“As you wish,” She said before waving her hand, the glamor shimmering away leaving both men there shocked at the sight in front of them.

Azriel heard Cassian's intake of breath. Hidden behind that glamor was a pair of Illyrian wings, bound behind her in a way that was obviously very uncomfortable with the way they twitched and shifted in their bindings.

“Remove her binding as well. Do you know what can happen to Illyrian wings if they stay bound like that?” Cassian said, arms crossing over his chest in an attempt to not rip the bars from the cage. The bound female looks between the two men, cautious and weary as the Mistress narrows her eyes.

“She’s unclipped and doesn’t know how to control them. We bound them so she doesn’t hurt herself or someone else,” the Mistress explained, but it wasn’t the right answer to give.

“Unbind her now,” Azriel ordered, his voice a booming echo in the room, it was not a question. The Mistress understood that tone, turning to the female, grabbing her roughly and turning her. She cut the rope and the wings instantly sagged, finding relief outside of the bindings.

“See, she can’t even hold them up,” the Mistress snapped, pushing the female back against the wall.

“She can’t hold them up because the muscles have been weakened due to lack of use caused by binding them,” Cassin snarled right back, satisfaction coiling in him at the way she flinched away. “How the hell did you acquire an Illyrian female without even knowing anything of their basic anatomy?”

The Mistress glared at him again. “She was sold to us unsullied by a third party. Half Illyrian, half high fae. Her father gambled away all of their money, he was in debt and sold his daughter off to pay his debts.”

“The purchasing of females to work in pleasure houses is illegal. You are in direct violation of breaking that law,” Azriel spoke, staring the woman down. “Open the cage. She’s coming with us.”

The cage opens and Cassian gestures for the mistress to exit the space. She looks at the female before reluctantly stepping out. Azriel steps but keeps his distance.

“I’m Azriel. What is your name?” He asked, catching her green eyes that almost seemed to glow in the dim lights.

“Don’t bother. She’s had her tongue removed,” the Mistress answered, mouth snapping shut when Cassian’s head snapped in her direction.

Azriel growls low in his throat, but stops himself when he catches the look on the female's face in front of him. Terrified. She was absolutely terrified.

“It’s okay,” he offered softly, stepping further into the cage “cover yourself.”

She looked at him skeptically. Weary. Cautious. She glances at the stick the mistress leaned against the wall then down at her red streaked, bruised thighs. She was scared he was going to hit her if she covered herself. He silently ordered one of his shadows to remove the stick from the room. Rhysand would definitely be hearing about that.

“No further harm will come to you, please, cover yourself,” Azriel soothed, shifting so she was out of view of the horrible Mistress behind him.

She watched him for a second before she dropped her head down and slowly folded her wings around herself, effectively covering her body.

“Have you ever winnowed before?” Azriel asked, watching her brows furrow. “Don’t be scared. I need to touch you but I’m only going to wrap my arm around you okay?”

The female was hesitant, but took a step forward. Those two men were terrifying, but they never looked away from her face unlike every other male who only stared at her body. Maybe wherever they were going to take her would be better than this place.

Azriel outstretched his hand, watched her eyes track the movement and take in his scars and siphons. Though she still seemed terrified she shifted in a way that he could easily wrap his arm around her back.

“You’re coming with us, too,” Cassian snarls to the Mistress, grabbing her before slapping his hand down onto Azriel’s shoulder.

⋆ ݁⟡ ݁☾ ݁⟡ ݁⋆

One minute they were standing in the pleasure house then the next there was nothing but swirling darkness. She clung to Azriel, somehow finding comfort in the arm wrapped securely around her.

When things came back into view the first thing she noticed were the stars in the sky. It had been so long since she saw the sky. Only she hadn’t been able to focus on it long, realizing they weren’t on a flat surface they were in the air and…falling.

A scream threatened to escape from her lips but that arm tightened around her and they were no longer falling but gliding lower and lower until they swooped through a window. She couldn’t really tell where she was at but as soon as her feet hit the ground she collapsed into herself. She pulled her knees to her chest inside of her winged cacoon, pushing her forehead against them and willing the sickness in her stomach to go away.

She didn’t look up at the sounds of a struggle, trying to ignore the grunting growls of a male who had just been slapped before the high pitched voice demanded, “Let me go! Take your hands off of me, you have no right!”

And she had been too scared to look up when she heard a booming voice that seemed to shake the very ground she was clinging to.

“He had every right,” is what that booming voice said, commanding silence from everyone in the room.

The silence was deafening.

She heard the sound of heels clicking, closer then further away then back in her direction again. She still didn’t look up. Not when she felt those heels next to her, or when the person wearing them wrapped something warm around her.

“My High Lord, please—”

“Take her to a cell,” That voice ordered again, not as loud but just as commanding and for a moment she thought they were talking about her.

She was about to beg. Don’t make me go. Please. Please, don’t take me to another cell!

It was only when she heard the other female, the Mistress, struggling again that she realized he wasn’t talking about her. He wasn’t locking her away…not yet anyway. When the struggling stopped and the shouts could no longer be heard. That’s when she looked up.

Her eyes instantly met dark violet. He looked similar to the other two males…golden tanned skin, dark hair, tall, but no wings. Unless they were hidden like hers had been.

“My name is Rhysand. What’s your name?” The voice asked, soothing almost, easing the tension from her shoulders.

“She can’t speak, Rhy,” the male from earlier, Azriel spoke. “They cut her tongue out.”

There’s a sharp intake of breath beside her and she remembers someone had been beside her. She looks up, taking in the heels, red silk top, blonde hair curled, and a pair of deep brown eyes on a beautiful face.

There is sadness in those eyes, etched in her flawless face and she has to look away. The anger flashing in those violet eyes isn’t much easier to look at.

“If I get you a pen and paper can you write?” He asked, again that voice soothing her in a way she didn’t quite understand. She shook her head.

Her father never taught them to read or write. They had no need for either being locked in that basement…that dark, cold, terrifying basement—

The male, Rhysand as he’d been called, frowns. Looking towards Azriel as if they were having a silent conversation before his eyes fall on her again and he takes a step forward, crouching down so they were eye level.

“I’m a daemati. Do you know what that is?” Rhysand asked. She shook her head again. “It means I can see and enter into people’s minds. Like this—hello, my name is Rhysand.”

Her eyes widen as that voice echoes in her head. What is happening right now? She meets Rhysand’s eyes, mouth falling open slightly. “You can hear me, too?”

“I can,” he responded out loud. “May we have the pleasure of knowing your name, sweetheart?”

She thought for a moment. No one had asked her for her name. They called her a lot of things…but never her name. She swallowed thickly, cleared her throat and nodded slowly.

“Cassandra. My name is Cassandra.” She answered, watching a warm smile come over his face as he stood and took the last few steps, offering his hand to her.

She doesn’t hesitate, placing her hand in his and allows him to gently pull her to her feet. She glances in the direction of Azriel and the pretty blonde just as the other male from before enters the room.

He shares that same look with Rhysand, like they’re communicating silently and now she knows that’s most likely the case. Rhysand dips his head in answer to whatever was said.

“Let me properly introduce you,” He says, gesturing to the three people in the room with them. “This is Azriel, Cassian and Morrigan. Everyone, this is Cassandra.”

Her heart skips in her chest. She hadn’t realized that it could feel so nice just to hear someone say her name. She gives Rhysand a small grateful look, hoping he understood what it means. He just gave her a single nod.

“Cassandra, you are officially under the protection of the night court,” Rhysand said, as she stood there staring at him. She felt something in her mind, like an opening and assumed it must be him waiting to see if she needed to say something.

“High Lord?” Cassandra asked and he nodded though he looked confused.

“Yes, I’m a high lord. Do you know what that is?” he asked. She shook her head, shrugging her shoulders meekly. The four of them share a look and it makes her want to drop back down into her cocoon and hide. “We can do a run down of titles and histories later. I am High Lord of Velaris, I rule this city and all of the people in it. Cassian is the commander of my armies. Azriel is my spy master. And Morrigan is my third in command as well as my cousin.”

Cassandra stands there. Everything coming from his mouth sounded foreign as if he was speaking another language. She nodded her head but it was more than obvious she didn’t really understand.

“Morrigan will escort you to your room—”

“Room? Not cell?” She asked surprised, not meaning to cut him off.

“You are not a prisoner, Cassandra. So, no, you won’t be sleeping in a cell. You will have your own room and you can do as you please,” Rhysand promised. “I have two amazing females, Nuala and Cerridwen that will tend to you. I would also like you to know I’ve placed a special ward on your room. No male will be allowed to enter your room, not even me unless you specifically invite them in. I want you to feel safe here. No one will lay a hand on you again without your permission. Not here. Not anywhere. Not ever again.”

Cassandra isn’t exactly sure what to say or what to do. No one, not even her own family has ever been this kind or considerate of her. She feels the tears in her eyes as she looks at him.

“Thank you.” Is all she can manage.

“There’s no need to thank me,” He shakes his head. Genuine. Sincere. There’s no trick behind his kindness. “Nuala and Cerridwen will take care of you, if you need anything ask them and they’ll get it for you. Once you feel comfortable and settled please come join us for dinner if you’re hungry. Do you need any special foods?”

“No…just soft foods. If there’s meat it just has to be small,” She answered, not wanting to show how special it felt that he asked that question silently.

“Not a problem at all,” Rhysand promised, giving her a small smile before waving Morrigan back over.

“Come, you’ll be right through here,” the beautiful female speaks, her voice smooth and warm. It reminded Cassandra of her mother.

Cassandra gave a small head nod before following Morrigan. The stone floors cold under her bare feet as she pulled the cover tighter around herself. The large, wooden double doors opened seemingly on their own accord. Cassandra looked back, locking eyes with Azriel, that male with the shadows, for a moment before they turned out of the room.

They walked down the hall in what Cassandra could only describe as comfortable silence. It gave her time to take in the beautiful home that seemed to be carved from…stone? Accented by wood and golden lights.

Cassandra slowed when they passed a particularly beautiful painting that caught her eye. The click of Morrigan’s heels slowed as well. The painting was of a large city, glow lights, and a bright river all at the base of a beautiful huge mountain. She scanned the painting. It felt so warm and inviting just like this home and the people in it.

“That’s Velaris,” Morrigan says from behind her. “Have you ever seen the city?”

Cassandra’s eyes stay on the painting and shakes her head. She hears the other female swallow thickly but still can’t tear her eyes from the beautiful painting.

“This is the city, it holds houses and businesses,” Morrigan begins pointing at the painting and tracing around the area she was talking about before moving to the brightest, most colorful part of the painting. “This is what we like to call the Rainbow. It’s where our artists of all kinds live. I like to go there to eat the music, it’s home to the best pastries, too! This here is the Sidra River, it’s sparkling blue in the daytime and winds all the way through Velaris. And this is where we are. We call it the House of Wind.”

Cassandra’s jaw drops a little when Morrigan points to the mountain, to the house carved in it. She looks around then back at the painting. Beautiful.

“One day, when you’re feeling up to it, you and I could have a girls day in the city. Just me and you. And I could show you all of the best shops, we could walk along the Sidra, you’ll love it. But only when you’re ready!” She clarified and Cassandra finally looked at her hearing the excitement in her voice.

“I don’t have many female friends and I can only have so much fun with those males,” She said, a smile stretching her red painted lips.

Cassandra tried to return the smile but she was sure it didn’t look genuine, she liked the idea of being…friends with Morrigan. But she didn’t know what all that entailed. Would Morrigan expect things of her if they became friends? Like those girls at the pleasure house?

“Come let’s get you to your room,” Morrigan cut through her thoughts and Cassandra offered a small nod before following once again.

Two more turns and a flight of stairs got them to where they were going. Two beautiful females stood outside an open door, dark skin with eyes and hair to match.

“Nuala and Cerridwen,” Morrigan motioned to each female, “this is Cassandra. Please, help her get cleaned up, changed and settled in. Cassandra, once you're settled, like Rhys said, please, consider coming to join us for dinner.”

Morrigan offers a smile before turning away. Cassandra’s hand shoots out to grab her wrist, to stop her, only to realize what she’d done and let go immediately, stumbling back a step.

“Hey, it’s okay,” Morrigan soothed, reaching out to steady her. “Would you like me to walk in with you?”

A jerky head nod was the answer she got.

“Alright, come,” She breathed softly, walking in the room first and waiting patiently for Cassandra.

When she entered the room her mouth fell open at how large it was. Situated in the middle of one wall was a huge bed—so huge she was sure she could lay on it, stretch her wigs out as far as they would go and still have room to spare. The covers were white and looked so fluffy. There were glowing lights all around the room. The opposite wall of the bed held a wall of glass less windows. Another wall held a table and chairs and a shelf with books. Then the other side opened into a large bathroom.

“Take a moment for yourself. Your life is about you now, Cassandra. You will never be used for someone else's pleasure or entertainment ever again. This is your room. This is your home now,” Morrigan speaks and Cassandra feels her eyes tear up but then Morrigan's heels are leaving the room and those two dark skinned beauties are leading her to the bathroom.

⋆ ݁⟡ ݁☾ ݁⟡ ݁⋆

As soon as she was out of the room Morrigan broke down. Hot tears slid down her cheeks as she made her way back to the room she left the other three male in. She had just calmed herself when she walked in and saw them standing together.

“Is everything okay, Mor?” Cassian asked, siphons gleaming atop his hands.

“I don’t think she’s ever been outside before, Rhys,” and just like that Morrigan’s eyes were brimming with tears once again. Rhys fixed her with a look urging her to explain, an ache in his own chest. She takes a breath, looking up and wiping the tears from her eyes. “We were passing that big painting of Velaris and she had no clue what she was looking at. She had no idea what her own home looked like. And on top of that she was terrified to even walk in the room alone, I had to walk her in. And—and she looked at the room like she didn’t believe it was real. Especially the bed and I keep thinking that maybe she never even had a bed!”

Cassian is the one to walk over and offer Morrigan the comfort of a hug. “It’s okay. We’re gonna take care of her now. Find all the people who did this, help her through it all and help her find herself. She’s gonna be okay.”

Rhys and Azriel look at one another. “There’s no telling how many other girls like Cassandra there are out there. I’m hoping she will join us for dinner so I’m able to ask her some questions without her feeling cornered. Azriel, Cassian, I want you two to go talk to that mistress, find out what you can without harming her…for now. Her and anyone else involved will be prosecuted accordingly. Go. now.”

#acotar #slow burn #acotar fanfiction #azriel #azriel fanfic #azriel x reader

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