#this is just my life now i just have to worry about this for the rest of my life | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

mochacoda · 1 day ago

Text

python | csc

Pairing: Choi Seungcheol x GN!Reader

Synopsis: When you broke up with your boyfriend to work in a different country, you didn't expect to see him ever again. But when you transfer to your company's Seoul branch four years later, the department head is your ex, and he’s made it his objective to make your life a living hell for leaving him all those years ago.

Content: Angst, Fluff, Comfort | Exes to Lovers | Office AU

Tags: emotions, miscommunication, heartache, workaholic!seungcheol, insecure reader, drinking, crying, begging, petnames (sweetheart, love), konglish w/ translations, no "y/n," this is for everyone who voted for cheol in the poll, loosely connected to too nice (joshua)

Word Count: 10K

Masterlist

“I hate him,” you seethe, your fists balled up, crumpling your rejected proposal. “God, I hate him.”

Your coworker, Joshua Hong, looks up from his cubicle with raised eyebrows. “Who?”

You breathe in deeply, willing your rage to dissipate at the sight of his confusion. Poor Joshua doesn’t deserve your anger. “No one,” you say, clenching your jaw.

Open-mouthed, Joshua blinks rapidly, eyes flitting over to glance at the office you had just walked out of. The door to the room is marked with a name plate that has 최승철 [Choi Seungcheol] in bold, gold letters.

“I’m fine,” you insist, hands uncrumpling the document you had just attacked.

“Uh, okay?” he says with a healthy dose of doubt, elongating the “o” in “okay.”

“I just—” you begin, then immediately shut your mouth. “Ugh, forget it.”

It’s one thing to crumple a proposal up, and another thing to start bad-mouthing your boss out in the open. You throw the tattered outline onto your desk, then plop yourself onto your chair. You rub your temples, and then mutter under your breath, “How did I get here?”

“Good question,” Joshua laughs. “Company synergy?”

You groan, “Don’t ever say that word again in my presence.”

“Mmh,” he says, walking over to your cubicle. “You won’t have to worry about my presence in a few months.”

“Don’t remind me,” you sigh, dropping your head in your hands.

Joshua would be leaving the Seoul branch and transferring to the New York branch in a few weeks.

Curse your company for its commitment to “workplace synergy,” swapping out a handful of employees across all departments in its international branches every few years. If it hadn’t been for this horrible program, you wouldn’t be here right now.

You want to rip out your own hair, at this point.

How did it even get to this? You shut your eyes, thinking back to simpler times.

When you first got a job offer at the New York branch of your dream company, your initial reaction was elation. Your second? Doubt. Leaving Seoul was almost unthinkable, not to mention the fact that you’d be leaving your boyfriend behind, too.

For the first few days after hearing back from the recruiter, you knew you’d accept, but kept the news to yourself. You’d heard of so many horror stories about long-distance dating, and after a long period of consideration, you wondered what the point was.

You knew your boyfriend—really knew him. You knew he’d make sacrifices for you at the expense of himself, and it was impossible for you to accept bogging him down with a 14 hour time difference. He’d stay up waiting for your calls, instead of getting much needed rest. He’d worry about you all the time, checking the weather in Manhattan instead of Seoul and calling you constantly instead of his family and friends. He’d wait on you for as long as you needed, in an almost obsessive way, thinking it could make up the difference in distance. But he deserved someone who could love him in person, all of the time.

It’d be better for Seungcheol if you just let him go, freeing him to focus on what mattered more to him. Like work.

He loved you too much to break things off with you himself, so it was better that you did it. For his own good.

That’s what you told him, at least.

────୨ৎ──── Four Years Ago

“Cheol,” you said, teary-eyed. “Cheol, look at me.”

Seungcheol stared blankly at the ground, face frozen.

“Please?” your voice cracked.

“Who are you to tell me what I can and can’t handle?” he suddenly choked out, eyes flashing with hurt. His hands clenched, like he was holding himself back from saying more.

You swallowed thickly, reaching for his arm. “Cheol, I—”

“Don’t call me that,” he said, snatching his hand away from you.

────୨ৎ────

But you had swallowed the real reasons for the breakup.

Because, deep down, you had always suspected otherwise. Somehow, everything had just become so complicated. Loving Seungcheol—which had once been something as easy as breathing—had become a dull pain in your chest, clouding your every thought with insecurities.

Even from the start of the relationship, you’d loved him more, anyway. Back then, you didn’t mind it because you loved him so much, and he was always so, so sweet to you. But around the time of the job offer, paranoia had reared its ugly head, kicking your uncertain thoughts into overdrive.

It was obvious that he didn’t really love you anymore. While you were job seeking, he was distracted. Always checking his phone, not really listening to what you had to say. He made time for you, but he didn’t necessarily make you feel like he loved you as deeply as you did him—it didn’t feel like he was the same guy that you started dating.

Something about his actions just felt like he did them to claim that he loved you, rather than because he actually loved you. His actions were laced with a kind of surface level, superficial quality.

He’d take you out to a fancy dinner, open the door for you, pay for the meal, drive you home—all the gentlemanly things he did when you started dating, too. But on the car ride there and back, and while sitting down eating together, he wouldn’t remember the things you had said about the little things happening in your life—a major change, when compared to the start of your relationship.

And sure, he didn’t have an obligation to remember your next door neighbor's name. But shouldn’t he remember your favorite kind of pie, or your closest cousin’s name? Shouldn’t he just know not to check his phone every time it pings with a new email, or leave you to eat your stupid expensive pasta alone as he takes a call outside?

It was almost like Seungcheol had fallen out of love with you, but was staying with you out of some kind of obligation to continue what he had started? That was your only explanation for why he’d spend time with you, but wouldn’t pay close attention to the things you said. Every Thursday was movie night, and in hopes of trying to keep him away from work, you let him choose the movie every time. But what use was that, when he spent more time looking at his phone than the TV—and more importantly, you, for that matter?

You’d been dating a ghost of a man. While you loved him, he tolerated you.

If the two of you stayed together when you went abroad, he’d probably double down on texts, but he wouldn’t really remember anything you’d said if you mentioned details about them in calls.

You didn’t bring any of these fears up to him, because you knew that he would continue to deny it. In fact, you’d imagined it in your head so much that you could see it when closing your eyes to sleep. If you confronted him, he’d deny that he didn’t love you anymore. But he’d be staring at the ground instead of looking at you. He wouldn’t admit that he was only with you because he enjoyed the consistency of your affection, and because he somewhat pitied you—and most importantly to him, because he wanted to prove to himself that he chose correctly when he started dating you.

The pain of watching the love of your life push down his repulsion just to be with you was decidedly more horrifying than the pain of breaking up with him altogether.

Right before ending things, it had occurred to you that Seungcheol might not have ever loved you in the first place, and that just hammered in the idea that you were making the right decision. He’d get over the breakup fast. He’d probably be thankful for it in a few years, even. If you saw him again, you’d both probably laugh, and in his head, he’d realize that he was grateful that you ended things so that he could focus on his real love, his career.

If you were honest with yourself, you would admit that there was a bit of selfishness driving the breakup, as well. There was no way you could handle Seungcheol sacrificing things for you—if he lost sleep over you, if he worried about you, if he was distracted by you—because you knew he wouldn’t be doing it for love.

Because he only ever cared out of a superficial need to prove to himself that he made the right decision in asking you out all those years ago. Not because he really loved you.

Yes, he probably never loved you, and he would never know the real reason why you ended things.

────୨ৎ──── Four Years Ago

“You give up so easily,” he spat out. “Was I nothing to you?”

Tears were running down your face. “Don’t. Don’t make this harder than it needs to be.”

Seungcheol laughed, then buried his head in his hands. “God, to think I almost—”

He stopped, jaw tightening, then shook his head like he couldn’t believe it.

────୨ৎ────

A hand comes down sharply on your desk, jolting you awake.

“Sleeping while on duty?”

Wide-eyed, with tear-stained cheeks, you look up to face your ex-boyfriend. “부장님! [Department Head!]”

Upon seeing your red-rimmed eyes, Seungcheol falters.

Swiping at your under eyes quickly, you bow your head to him slightly. “I’m sorry, it won’t happen again.”

He swallows roughly, eyebrows furrowing in confusion. He opens his mouth, like he’s about to ask you why you were crying, and your heart drops.

You will crumble if you hear the tone of voice he had used when you broke up with him.

“Excuse me,” you blurt with choked words.

You don’t dare to look at his eyes. Instead, you get up from your seat, then immediately flee to the bathroom.

────୨ৎ──── Four Years Ago

“You can focus on work, now,” you squeaked out.

Seungcheol scoffed again, a cruel sound of disbelief. “What makes you think I give a damn about work right now?”

“Don’t you? Always?” you sniffled.

His eyes flashed with something you couldn’t quite describe. He seemed angry, but not just at you. At himself, too—his hands were balled into fists at his sides, fingernails digging sharply into his palms. His throat bobbed, and you could see the intense restraint he was forcing on himself. He opened his mouth with a sharp breath, then closed it again, as if he wanted to say something but stopped himself.

────୨ৎ────

You stare with glassy eyes at yourself in the mirror, trying to calm your racing heart down. It would be alright. You would be alright.

If you just focused on your work, it would be fine.

Leaving the bathroom, you square your shoulders. You’ll draft up a new proposal that suits his standards, and you’ll do it so excellently that he can’t possibly reject it.

Hours later, and you’re standing outside Seungcheol’s office again. Taking a deep breath, you walk in without knocking or announcing yourself.

The stack of papers trembles in your hands as you place them on Seungcheol’s desk. You keep your expression blank, steadying your breath, willing yourself not to let any emotion slip. “This is the revised proposal.”

Seungcheol doesn’t look up immediately. He takes his time flipping through the pages, his expression unreadable. The tension in the room is suffocating, thick with words left unsaid from years ago. You stand stiffly, waiting, watching the way his fingers drag across the paper. Finally, he exhales sharply and sets the proposal down.

The room is unbearably silent as the question of approval hangs in the air. Your heart pounds so loudly you swear he can hear it.

He should say no immediately. It would be the easiest answer. The logical one. The one you expect.

But he hesitates.

His fingers curl against the polished surface of his desk, and his gaze lingers on the documents in front of him for just a second too long. It’s subtle—anyone else might not notice—but you do. His mask falters. Just a flicker.

And for a split second, you let yourself hope.

Then, his jaw tightens. His hands retreat beneath the table, as if physically pulling himself back. When he finally speaks, his voice is steady, controlled, and restrained—nothing like the eager, puppy-like man you knew him as when you first started dating.

“We’ll have to decline,” he says, and it’s final. Unshakable. Like he hadn’t wavered at all.

You swallow hard, nodding stiffly as if you hadn’t just watched something slip through his fingers. As if it hadn’t slipped through yours, too.

“Decline?” you blurt.

His face remains impassive. “Yes.”

You blink at him, momentarily stunned. You had anticipated that he would be difficult, but this—it’s too fast, too dismissive.

You steel yourself. “Why?”

“It’s not good enough.”

Your fingers clench around the hem of your blazer. “Can’t you separate private and work life?”

He meets your gaze, eyes dark and cool. “I am.” His voice is devoid of any warmth. “I don’t care. Your proposal is bad.”

The words strike harder than they should, more than just a professional critique. A cruel, deliberate dismissal. You know it’s personal—for the past two weeks that you’ve been at the Seoul branch, it has always been personal when it comes to him. Your blood simmers.

“I see.” You force your voice to remain level. “Would you like to point out what’s wrong with it?”

His lips press into a thin line. “No.”

A sharp, bitter laugh escapes you. “Of course not.”

Seungcheol leans back in his chair, arms crossing over his chest. “Four years ago, you didn’t choose me. So why should I choose your useless proposal?”

The shift is abrupt, the air sucked out of the room in an instant. Your nails dig into your palms.

“I have never loved anyone more than I loved you.” The words leave your lips before you can stop them, the truth of them ringing through the silence.

He scoffs, but there’s a flicker of something in his eyes, something raw. “You left me,” he says, voice edged with something dangerously close to hurt. “You. Left. Me.”

Your breath shudders. “You left me first.”

He leans forward, eyes searching yours, like he’s daring you to take it back. “How?” His voice is quieter now, but no less intense. “How did I leave you, when I was the one you abandoned in Seoul?”

Your vision blurs slightly. This. This is why it never worked between the two of you. He’s too bull-headed to even consider that he was in the wrong.

You shake your head. “Why didn’t you fight for us?”

His jaw tightens. “Why didn’t you?”

A bitter taste coats your tongue. “You gave up so easily.”

His eyes flash. “No,” he says sharply, “you’re the one who brought up work all the time.”

Your hands tremble. “Because if it wasn’t about work, you wouldn’t talk to me!”

That stuns him. His mouth opens slightly, but nothing comes out. His brows knit together, the first crack in his mask of indifference.

You exhale shakily, pressing forward. “Because if I talked about anything else, I knew you wouldn’t listen,” you whisper, voice breaking. “I knew I’d be talking to a man who loved the idea of me more than he actually loved me.”

Seungcheol flinches as if you had struck him. His throat bobs, hands clenched into fists on top of his desk. “That’s not true,” he grits out, but there’s something in his voice—something unsteady, like the words are slipping through his fingers before he can stop them.

“Isn’t it?” you press. His breathing turns uneven, his jaw tightening like he’s physically holding himself back.

“You made me feel like I was a burden,” you continue, the words tumbling out, years of buried pain unraveling in real time. “Like you had to tolerate me between meetings and emails. Like being with me was just another responsibility to check off your list.”

He exhales sharply, like the air’s been knocked out of his lungs. His fingers twitch, gripping the desk so tightly that his knuckles go white. “That’s not—” He stops, biting his tongue, like even he can’t bring himself to finish that sentence.

A bitter laugh escapes you. “You don’t even believe yourself, do you?”

Seungcheol stands abruptly, chair scraping against the floor, his composure unraveling before your eyes. “I worked so damn hard for us,” he says, voice raw.

Your voice is small. “I never asked you to.”

His lips part, and for the first time since you stepped into his office, his expression isn’t blank or cold—it’s vulnerable. And it terrifies you.

His expression cracks, pain flickering through his eyes. “I was trying to build a future for you,” he says, voice raw, desperate. “For us.”

“You were so busy planning a future that you forgot to love me in the present.”

A tense silence falls between you, the weight of the past pressing down on both of you like an unbearable force. His breaths are uneven, his knuckles white from how tightly he’s gripping the edge of his desk.

Finally, he exhales, a bitter, tired laugh leaving his lips. He looks down at the proposal—still sitting there, untouched, still rejected.

“This meeting is over,” he mutters, his voice hoarse.

Your heart clenches painfully, but you nod, blinking rapidly to push back the tears. Without another word, you turn on your heel and walk out, leaving behind the shattered remnants of everything you once were.

When you get back to the safe haven that is your apartment, you retrace everything he had said. Or, rather, the accusations he had thrown at you.

“You left me.”

“I was the one you abandoned in Seoul.”

“Why didn’t you fight for us?” “Why didn’t you?”

“I was trying to build a future for you. For us.”

Your heart strangely aches, remembering how shaken he looked when you called out his workaholic behavior. You had blamed him for the end of it all, but it takes two to end a relationship. Why didn’t you fight harder for him, back then?

────୨ৎ──── Four Years Ago

You’re alone now. It’s what you wanted. To be free from the self-doubt that loving Seungcheol had drilled into you.

Your chest constricted so tightly, you couldn’t breathe.

────୨ৎ────

Two days after the disastrous office meeting, you’ve somehow managed to have the misfortune of sitting in front of your ex-boyfriend at a steakhouse for work. The restaurant is dimly lit, the low hum of conversation and clinking glasses filling the space. Your body practically vibrates from the tension.

You can see Seungcheol’s gaze turn sharper every time he looks at you, and it makes it all the more insulting when he immediately brightens at Director Chun. You chug another glass of wine, hoping the buzz will numb the annoyance bubbling within you.

“Thank you, Director,” you say, reaching over the table to shake your superior’s hand. “It was a pleasure.”

“No, thank you, Team Leader,” he chuckles. “We’re lucky to have such competent, young people working for us. I’m sure the Brennans will be thrilled to see this project come to a close so quickly.”

Seungcheol laughs. “We’re lucky to have you, Director.”

It’s so fake, you’re itching to get rid of the stupid grin off his smug face.

“I’m sorry I have to leave so soon,” the director continues. “I’ll see you two back at the office?”

“Of course,” you say, standing up and bowing to him as he gets up from his seat.

When the director finally leaves, you can’t help but swallow roughly. You reach for the wine bottle, refilling your glass for the nth time tonight. The rest of the restaurant is loud, but it is far too quiet in your corner of the room.

Now you’re alone with Seungcheol.

The air crackles with an unspoken tension, thick and suffocating. Seungcheol, across from you, has his fingers curled tightly around the stem of his wine glass. His knuckles are practically white, the pressure of his grip betraying the storm raging inside him.

He hasn’t touched much of his food, and barely spoke beyond a few clipped replies to you. He had really only responded to Director Chun all night. But it’s nothing new. You have long learned to recognize this silence; it’s the same, bitter one that had stretched between you in the months before you left him.

You don’t know why you told Joshua you could handle going to this. Why, after everything, did you let Seungcheol pull you into a setting so painfully intimate, so reminiscent of the past? The last time the two of you were in a restaurant like this, he had left for 40 minutes to take a call outside.

Seungcheol swirls his drink absentmindedly, watching the ice shift in the glass before finally speaking. “You look well.”

You let out a breathy laugh, shaking your head. “Small talk? Really?”

His jaw tightens, and he sets his glass down with a quiet thud. “Would you rather we skip the pleasantries?”

“I’d rather we not pretend this is anything other than what it is.”

“And what is it?”

You lift your chin. “You tell me.”

Seungcheol exhales sharply, dragging a hand through his hair. He looks at you—really looks at you—for the first time since you sat down, and it sends a shiver down your spine. It’s the same expression he made when you were in his arms, four years ago.

The one that made you feel like the only person in the world. The one that he used to assure you that he loved you.

And you hate yourself, because you can’t help but remember that he looked so good when he was yours. Worse, you can’t help but notice how he’s still devastatingly handsome.

Only now, his gaze is shadowed with something darker. Something unresolved.

“You know, when you told me you wanted to end things, I could’ve accepted it,” he says, voice steady, but his fingers twitch slightly against the table.

You swallow roughly.

“I could’ve accepted it if you said you just fell out of love with me,” he continues, “But then.” He takes a deep breath. “But then, you told me it was for my own good. That I wouldn’t be able to handle long distance.”

Your hands grip your wine glass. You want to say something, but you don’t know where to even start.

“You told me you loved me, and then…” he trails, before shakily saying, “abandoned me, because I couldn’t handle it?” He dips his head low, hands joining like he’s about to make a prayer.

“Cheol, I—”

“Don’t. Just don’t.”

Seungcheol stares intensely at his half-eaten steak, a strand of hair coming down from his forehead to poke at his eyes. Despite yourself, your hand instinctively lurches to tuck it behind his ears, before you quickly jolt it back. A cloud of shame begins to envelope your mind. It’s not fair. Why does your body remember him so well, even after he broke your heart?

You swallow thickly, and he takes a shaky breath before speaking again. “And you know what, that wasn’t even the worst part. What was worse, was—”

He gets choked up, then clenches his hands into fists to ground himself. “What’s worse, was what you said at the end.”

You furrow your brows, thinking back to all those years ago, right after you told him that he could finally focus on his work, and right before you walked away from him.

────୨ৎ──── Four Years Ago

“I’m sorry for wasting your time,” you whispered. You didn’t dare to look at him. “I’m sorry I made you miss that convention for my birthday.” You sniffled, voice breaking. “You shouldn’t have had to do that. I’m sorry I made you watch those stupid movies, and that I made you go out when you didn’t want to. I should’ve been more considerate of your dreams, Cheol. I’m sorry, I’m sorry I only realized it now. I should’ve—”

You exhaled deeply, blinking your newest tears away. They fell down your cheeks in streams. “You won’t have to worry about that kind of useless stuff anymore, okay? You don’t need to deal with me anymore. I’m sorry you had to handle all of that for so long. I, I really lo…”

You bit down on your lower lip, blinking desperately to get rid of your blurry vision. “I hope you get into the accelerator, Cheol. I know how hard you’ve worked for it. If anyone can do it, it’s you.”

One last time, you smiled at him weakly, not meeting his eyes. “Goodbye, Cheol.”

And then you turned your back from him, walking away from the love of your life, partly because you really did wish him well on his startup journey, and mostly because you knew he was only with you out of obligation to himself—because he never loved you, anyway.

────୨ৎ────

“Oh,” you say, eyes feeling strangely prickly.

“I love—I loved you,” Seungcheol says, clutching his chest. He exhales roughly. “Did you not… see that?”

You blink rapidly.

His throat bobs as he swallows, eyes darting away for a brief moment. “I had plans for us,” he admits, voice quiet but strained.

At the sight of his clear pain, your stomach twists uncomfortably. “Plans?”

He nods slowly, still refusing to meet your eyes. The candlelight on the table flickers between you, casting shadows that dance across his face, highlighting the tension in his furrowed brow.

His mouth parts as if he’s about to say something—something important—but then he stops himself.

You reach across the table instinctively, your fingertips grazing his wrist. “Seungcheol. Don’t do this to me.”

He tenses beneath your touch but doesn’t pull away. Instead, he finally looks at you, and the sheer weight of emotion in his gaze nearly knocks the breath from your lungs. There is something so much in his eyes—anger, regret, sadness, and a deep emotion you haven’t dared call love in years. All tangled together in a way that makes it impossible to separate one from the other.

“I was going to propose to you,” he confesses, his voice barely above a whisper.

Your breath hitches. For a second, the world tilts, the steady hum of the restaurant fading into white noise. You blink, your mind scrambling to process the weight of his words. “What?”

Seungcheol lets out a short, humorless laugh, shaking his head as if mocking himself. “I had the ring. I had everything planned out.” He exhales sharply, rubbing a hand over his face. “I was just… waiting for the right time.”

A sharp, painful lump forms in your throat. “Cheol—”

“But you left before I could,” he cuts in, his voice breaking at the edges. His eyes are glassy now, raw with unshed emotion. “You thought…you thought I didn’t love you enough. But I did. I loved you so much I—” He sucks in a shaky breath, his hands balling into fists on the table. “I was trying so hard to build a future for us. I wanted to give you everything.”

Tears burn behind your eyes, and your hands are still on his arm, but they’re shaking. “I didn’t need ‘everything,’” you whisper. “I just needed you.”

His face crumples for a split second before he forces his expression blank again. “I thought I was doing the right thing.”

Silence stretches between you, thick with everything you had never said to each other. The weight of missed moments, of love given but not received in the way it was needed, settles over the two of you like a monstrous thunderstorm.

You swallow down the sob threatening to break free from your throat. “Why didn’t you say anything?”

His voice is hoarse, like he has swallowed glass. “Would it have changed anything?”

You want to say yes. You want to believe that if he had just told you, things would have been different. But deep down, you aren’t sure. Because the truth was, you had already been slipping away from each other long before you had walked out the door.

You had told him you were leaving him so he could focus on his work. You had told yourself you were leaving him because he didn’t love you anymore. So, would you have really believed him if he had proposed to you? You’re not sure, but there’s no point in analyzing the hypothetical what-ifs, really.

Because now, looking at the man who had once been your world, you wonder if you had ever really left him at all.

────୨ৎ──── Three Years Ago

It was Seungcheol’s birthday. It hit you while you were at the grocery store, in the fresh produce section.

You saw cherries.

You cried.

Later that day, your finger twitched over his contact on your phone, before falling to your hips.

He was probably busy. He hadn’t texted or called you since the breakup, after all. He definitely wouldn’t want to hear from you even if he wasn’t busy, anyway.

“I’m sorry,” you said out loud, knowing that the person who needed to hear it most wasn’t there. “I miss you. Happy birthday.”

────୨ৎ────

You blink, and suddenly you’re outside. There’s a chilly wind blowing against you, making you shiver. When you try to take a step forward, you find your body is too sluggish to move much.

“You’ve had too much to drink,” Seungcheol says concernedly, his warm, strong hands finding an all too familiar spot against your waist.

“I’m fine,” you say, though your teetering body suggests otherwise.

Somewhere between watching Seungcheol laugh at Director Chun’s obviously not funny jokes and trying to give your hand something to do instead of ball into fists hearing his confession, you had drunk far too much of the expensive bottle of wine that the director had bought for the three of you.

Seungcheol says your name like it’s a warning, tone firm.

But you can’t help but laugh. You’re too close to him now. And oh, he’s so warm. Instinctively, your body presses against him, because it’s familiar and comforting and something you’ve subconsciously been craving for the past four years with every fiber of your body.

“I missed you,” you blurt.

Seungcheol swallows roughly.

“Fuck, don’t…” He can’t even bring himself to finish the sentence. “How did you get here? Taxi?”

You shake your head. “Too much money. Subway.”

“I’ll take you home, okay? Where are you staying now?” He squeezes your waist.

“Mmh.” Thinking, you close your eyes, fully leaning into his touch.

Three days ago, the company told you to move out of the original apartment they’d placed you in two weeks ago, and although you’d memorized how to get to your new place using the subway, you had yet to memorize the exact address. You’d always looked at your phone to double check, thinking that you’d be fine if you were stranded, since you’d always have your phone on you. Unfortunately, though, you hadn’t considered that you’d be lost if your phone died.

“That’s not an address, sweetheart.” He inhales sharply, realizing his mistake after it leaves his lips.

“I’m sorry,” you say with a frown, tears welling in your eyes. “Don’t remember.”

Here you were, wasting his time again. You’d left him four years ago because you were a hindrance to his career, and now you’re doing it again. Old habits die hard, don’t they?

You sniffle, “I’ll sober up soon, don’t worry. You can just leave me here. I’ll walk to the subway.”

Seungcheol’s throat bobs. “Hey, hey, don’t be sorry. I got you, okay? I’ll take you back to my place, if that’s okay?”

You nod, your voice small. “Okay.”

He breathes a sigh of relief.

Before you know it, Seungcheol has escorted you into the passenger seat of his car, and you’re on your way back to the house you had called your home only four years ago.

“Did you miss me?” you ask childishly, staring at the driver with sleepy eyes.

His Adam's apple bobs up and down.

For a moment, you don’t think he’ll answer. But then, he says softly, “I did.”

“Oh,” you say, and then you feel your eyelids get heavier. You let them close.

Right before you fall asleep, you catch him whispering something that sounds a lot like, “I missed you so much, sweetheart.”

────୨ৎ──── Six Months Ago

You swallowed. “In the fall?”

“Yes,” Director Chun said. “I’ll be heading over to the Seoul branch as well, for a few months at the very least. I promise you’ll be under one of our best. Department Head Choi Seungcheol is known for being collaborative. I’m sure the synergy will be great between the two of you.”

You froze. Surely, not.

“Choi Seungcheol?” you asked breathily.

“Yes. Do you know each other?”

“No,” you said, far too quickly.

“Ah, I see. Perhaps he was impressed by the work you did with the Jeons,” the director said with a smile. “He requested you directly.”

Oh.

────୨ৎ────

Sleep is supposed to be relaxing, isn’t it? So why does it feel like your chest is going to cave in on itself, like a big boulder has plopped itself down on you?

You open your eyes quickly, only to be met with a mess of short, dark brown hair.

You try to blow on the hair, only to feel it enter your mouth. It’s horribly dry.

“Ack,” you spit.

And then it occurs to you that your hair has never tasted like this, or looked like this, for that matter.

You try moving one of your arms to get rid of the annoying strands, only to find that it has also been rendered immobile. You tense your core, trying to flop like a worm, but it’s of no use.

You furrow your brows, straining as hard as you can, but nothing happens.

For a moment, you wonder if you’re having a nightmare.

And then the boulder moves.

Your eyes widen into saucers. There’s only one explanation for this. You’ve only ever known one man who gives bear hugs in his sleep like this.

“Choi Seungcheol?”

“Fuck,” it groans. “Thought I told you not to call me that, sweetheart.”

You close your eyes, wondering if you’re still dreaming. But when you open them again, you see Seungcheol’s face.

Sleep lines are adorning his left cheek, and he blinks at you slowly. His pink lips are turned down in a slight pout, and the sight of him is so adorable, it makes you want to scream.

“Did you…” you pause, mind racking an explanation. “Fall asleep on top of me?”

“You said you were cold,” he says slowly, eyes half-closed, voice deep.

“Oh,” you say, then flush, feeling heat rush up the back of your neck and reach your ears. Trying to avoid eye contact with him, your eyes stray to your collarbone, and you see that you’re still wearing last night’s clothes. “Wait, did you let me into your bed with dirty clothes?”

“Mmph,” he says, rubbing his face into the crook of your neck.

“Wow,” is all you can manage. He never let you do that when you were dating.

“Go back to sleep, love,” Seungcheol mumbles.

“Can’t breathe, Cheol,” you groan, patting his back. “Too heavy, baby.”

He groans but shifts off of you, then cuddles up next to you, hands finding your waist immediately. “Five more minutes.”

“Mmh,” you sigh contentedly.

And as you close your eyes again, it occurs to you that Seungcheol is your ex, and that the two of you are definitely doing things that exes should not be doing.

────୨ৎ──── Two Weeks Ago

You swallowed your pride. You extended an arm out to him first.

“Department Head Choi Seungcheol, it’s a pleasure to work with you.”

You spat his first and last name out like venom, knowing all too well that he hated being called by his full name.

He stared at your outstretched hand, then scoffed.

Fuck.

────୨ৎ────

When you wake up again, you’re alone in Seungcheol’s bed. Out of habit, your arm moves to pat the other side of the bed.

For a moment, your mind flashes back to the lonely mornings you had with him four years ago. The days when the first thing you did after waking up was to check the other side of the bed, only for it to be cold. The hope of it all had fractured your heart slowly, but surely.

But today, for some reason, Seungcheol’s side is lukewarm.

Confused at the lingering warmth, you sit up in his bed, rolling back the covers.

Is it possible that he’s still here?

Then, you smell the distinct scent of ramen through the door to his room, which has been left slightly ajar. Planning on checking the kitchen, you move to get off the bed. But before your feet reach the ground, Seungcheol walks in.

He’s holding a tiny desk, the kind made for breakfast in bed. On it is a bowl of steaming ramen and a glass of water.

“Morning,” he says with a shy smile, and oh—oh, it’s so full of endearment and joy and hope, of all things.

God, something about it is just so, so pure and domestic, it makes your chest constrict. Seungcheol had never made you breakfast in bed when you had dated, because he had always been the first to leave in the morning.

But here he is, like he plans on making up for everything starting now.

And with how bright his smile is, your heart is aching to just let him.

“Is this… for me?” you ask in a small voice. Of course, it can’t possibly be for anyone but you, but something in you wants Seungcheol to admit it.

Seungcheol nods.

“Thank you,” you say.

“Ramen’s your favorite hangover meal, right?”

You nod slowly, and Seungcheol grins, like he’s proud of himself for getting it right. But something about it pokes a nerve. What use is there in remembering it now, when you’re not together anymore?

He watches you eat slowly, and you raise your eyebrows at the taste.

“It’s really good,” you say between bites, giving a thumbs up.

“Good,” he says, making intense eye contact with you.

He’s completely focused on you, phone and computer completely out of sight, and it makes you squirm. Now that his attention is on you without any distractions, it’s too easy to see how gorgeous he is.

You flush under his attention. “Stop looking at me,” you mumble.

“Don’t wanna,” he says dreamily, lying on his stomach on the bed, looking up at you with doe eyes.

You giggle, covering your face with your hands in embarrassment.

Seungcheol reaches out to swat your hands away from your face, taking the opportunity to hold your hands. When you look at him again, you’re taken aback by how serious he suddenly is.

Your laughter fades.

He takes a deep breath, and your heart sinks. You already know what he’s going to say.

“Can we… try ag—”

“Cheol,” you gently cut him off, withdrawing your hands from his familiar grasp. “Let’s not… we’re not…”

“Why not?” He looks at you innocently, with wide eyes.

You take a shaky breath. “I can’t do this again, Cheol. It’s not good for me, and it’s not good for you.”

At first, he just blinks at you, as if he misheard. But then, something in his expression hardens. “Who says you’re not good for me?”

“What?”

“Who says you’re not good for me?”

“Cheol,” you say with a sigh. “Let’s not do this again. It’s not gonna work.”

“Who says?” his voice breaks.

────୨ৎ──── One Week Ago

“Again,” he said dryly. “Redo the business model.”

You swallowed back your anger. “Yes, Department Head Choi Seungcheol. Is there anything else you would like me to do?”

“Care more,” he said.

You frowned. “I have my full focus on this project, sir.”

“Care more,” he repeated.

────୨ৎ────

“I’ve changed,” he says frantically. “I can prove it to you, I promise.”

Your chest constricts.

“I won’t ever let you be lonely again, I promise. I won’t let it happen, I swear. I’m so, so sorry I hurt you back then, but I’m not the same man you left. I will never hurt you again.”

You swallow roughly, the ramen leaving a salty aftertaste in your mouth.

“Seungcheol…”

He shuts his eyes tightly, like you’ve wounded him.

“Please, call me Cheol again. Please, I can’t stand to hear you call me that.”

“It’s your name,” you tell him gently.

“No, it’s not. To you, I’m Cheol,” he insists stubbornly, crossing his arms. You swallow at the sight. Since when was his body so defined? You have to look away from his pronounced biceps to regain your will.

“Look at me,” he says with a frown. You obliged and he continues, “Sweetheart, please. I promise I will never hurt you again. Please, please, take me back.”

On the bed, he’s kneeling now, hands drawn together as if in deep prayer.

“I won’t let work get in the way of loving you. It was horrible and so stupid of me and I’m so, so sorry but it was only when I lost you that I realized I forgot what the point of working was. It was to provide for you, and I couldn’t do that if you were gone because I didn’t properly show you the love you deserved. I’m so, so sorry, my love. Please give me another chance?”

Seungcheol looks at you with so much sadness, but the history you had with his ghost makes you unsure about what to do.

“I don’t know, Cheol…”

He smiles weakly, resigned. “At least you’re back to calling me Cheol, though. Right?”

You nod slowly.

All of a sudden, Seungcheol lights up, like a last-minute godsend of an idea came to his mind. “If it’s too hard to say yes now, how about taking it slow?”

“What does that mean?” His definition of taking it slow probably isn’t like yours.

“I can take you out on some dates, and then you could decide?”

Your heart sinks. He’s so hopeful—eyebrows raised, eyes wide, mouth parted.

You don’t know if you have it in you to say no.

You press your lips together.

Seungcheol must have sensed danger in your face, because he immediately interjects with a rushed confession before you even open your mouth.

“I love you. So much. I loved you then, and I loved you after you left, and I love you now. There was no one after you, you know?” He looks a bit crazed, hands scrunching the blankets roughly.

Your heart jolts.

He continues, “You were everything to me—and still are. There wasn’t a single day that I didn’t think about you. But I couldn’t bring myself to reach out because I thought you hated me.”

He’s not exactly wrong. You did hate him. Then again, there’s a fine line between love and hate. Both are powerful emotions that require you to care about the person in question.

“I even quit the startup because I realized it had eaten up all my time, ‘cause it had taken you away from me.”

You gasp. This was the answer to why Choi Seungcheol, self-made entrepreneur who insisted on refusing to work for anyone but himself, had strangely become the department head of a company that he never had a hand in creating.

“I was,” he sighs self-deprecatingly, “unemployed for a while. Until I heard you were working here, and then I made it my mission to climb the ranks until I could ask for you to get transferred to Seoul. And when you accepted, I was so…”

Your heart breaks a little for him.

“I thought it was a sign.” Hesitantly, he clarifies, “That you might want to try again.”

You inhale sharply. There he goes, again. Talking so sweetly. Back then, that was all he ever did to show you that he loved you. It wasn’t enough then, so why would it be enough now?

At your silence, Seungcheol hangs his head, and your fingers twitch, wanting to reach out to him.

Except it’s different now, isn’t it? He’s finally doing all the things you once wished he would. Isn’t that what you wanted from him? You don’t trust him yet. But he’s trying, now, and every muscle in your body aches with an impossibly deep desire to pull him into your arms.

You exhale, and out with your breath goes your final worries.

Your lips part before you’ve fully decided what to say.

"Okay."

It’s barely a whisper, but it might as well be a strike of thunder with the way Seungcheol’s head snaps up. His eyes widen, mouth parting like he’s afraid he misheard you.

"Okay?" His voice trembles, cautious, like one wrong move could shatter whatever fragile thing is forming between you.

Your throat tightens. The weight of this—of him—presses down on you, but you nod anyway.

For a second, he doesn’t breathe. Then, his face crumples, and the sheer relief in his expression makes something in you splinter. His hands twitch where they rest on the blankets, like he wants to reach for you but doesn’t dare. He’s waiting—because this time, he knows he has to let you come to him.

And you do.

Slowly, hesitantly, you lean forward. His breath hitches, but he doesn’t move away. Your forehead brushes his, a soft press that feels like a heartbeat between you. You feel the warmth of his skin, the way his breath mingles with yours in the inches of space that remain.

Seungcheol exhales shakily, like he’s been holding it in for years. His hands hover near your waist, unsure, unsteady. He doesn’t pull you closer—he’s learned now—but he craves it.

Your eyes flutter shut, leaning into his touch, telling yourself it’d only be for a second. Just long enough to let yourself feel him, really feel him, without the weight of the past crushing you.

His voice is barely above a whisper, breath fanning across your lips. “Sweetheart…”

You could fall apart at the way he says it, so quiet, so reverent—like he’s afraid you’ll disappear if he speaks too loud.

Your heart aches for more, but your mind reminds you of how he had left scars in your heart. For now, this form of affection would have to be enough.

After a few minutes in his arms, you reluctantly pull away to check the address of your new apartment on your finally-charged phone. Seungcheol drops you off, walking you to your door. You don’t invite him in, and he doesn’t ask. But something about the way he looked at you, right before you walked inside your apartment, lingers in your mind long after he leaves. He’d looked at you like you’d hung every glittering star in the sky.

Four years ago, you had decided that this gaze was something he’d manufactured while putting up with you. Maybe, you were wrong.

────୨ৎ────

Seungcheol keeps his promise of taking things slow. He’d arranged for you to meet him at a cafe the next day, and he’s already there when you get there. It’s a small, cozy place tucked into a quieter part of the city, the kind with warm lighting and the scent of freshly ground coffee drifting in the air.

You hesitate for a second when you see him through the window, seated at a booth near the back, fingers idly tapping against the ceramic cup in front of him. Then, before you can second-guess yourself, you push open the door.

His eyes meet yours instantly, and for a moment, he looks breathless—like he’s just as nervous as you are. But then he smiles. It’s a small, careful thing, but it makes your heart drum a little faster anyway. As you approach, he stands up, hand on his heart.

“Hey,” he says, voice soft, like he’s afraid to scare you away.

“Hey,” you reply, sliding into the seat across from him.

The booth is familiar. For a second, you’re struck by the memory of late-night conversations, of stolen kisses over half-finished drinks. You really were deep in love, back then.

You shake the thought away as Seungcheol gestures toward the counter.

“Still the same order?” he asks, the corner of his mouth lifting in something that isn’t quite a smirk but close enough that you recognize it as one of his signature expressions. You raise an eyebrow.

“You think I’d change it?”

“I don’t know,” he admits, tilting his head slightly. “A lot of time has passed.”

You exhale a small laugh. “Yeah, well. Some things stay the same.”

Something shifts in his gaze, a flicker of relief, of hope, before he nods. He waves down a barista and places the order without hesitation—exactly how you like it. When the cup is finally set in front of you, you find yourself staring at it for a beat too long, a strange warmth pooling in your chest.

“Thanks,” you murmur, wrapping your fingers around the cup.

Seungcheol watches you, his own drink forgotten, but he doesn’t push. Instead, he leans slightly forward, forearms resting on the table as he asks, “So, what’s new?”

You take a sip, letting the warmth settle in your stomach before answering. “Well, I have a wedding to go to next month.”

His eyebrows lift slightly, intrigued. “Oh?”

“Yeah. My coworker from the New York branch, Lee Chan, is getting married next month. I gotta fly out for it.” You swirl your drink absentmindedly, watching the steam curl into the air. “It’s kind of crazy. Feels like yesterday he was complaining about bad Tinder dates, and now he’s getting married.”

Seungcheol huffs a small laugh. “Guess he finally found the right person.”

“Yeah,” you say, a little softer. “Guess he did.”

There’s a pause, and you realize that for all the implications, for the way the topic is naturally leading to the idea of a plus one, you don’t bring it up. And, notably, neither does he. The question lingers, unspoken but present. Instead, Seungcheol shifts the conversation.

“You still baking?”

You groan, dragging a hand down your face. “If you can even call it that.”

He grins. “That bad?”

“Worse.” You sigh dramatically. “I was trying to perfect my chocolate chip cookies, right? Like, I found this recipe online, and it looked completely foolproof. But somehow, I nearly burned down my apartment.”

His amusement vanishes instantly. “What?”

“I mean, not literally,” you backtrack quickly, waving a hand. “But there was a lot of smoke. And my oven might hate me now.”

Seungcheol’s brows furrow in concern. “That apartment’s new, isn’t it?”

You nod. “Yeah, company orders. Still trying to get used to it.”

He exhales through his nose, tilting his head as he studies you. “Isn’t it hard? Being in such an unfamiliar place?”

You blink, caught off guard. “Oh, uh, I guess?”

His tone is casual—too casual—but you’re not oblivious. You see the way he watches you intently, the way he’s gauging your reaction. He thinks he’s being subtle, but it’s clear what he’s hinting at. Someday, maybe you won’t have to be in an unfamiliar place. Maybe you could come back home, to me.

You let out a small breath, looking down at your drink. “It’s fine,” you say after a moment. “It’s just an adjustment.”

Seungcheol doesn’t push, but his fingers tighten slightly around his cup. “If you ever need anything…”

“I know,” you say, and you mean it. Because for the first time in a long time, it feels like he actually means it, too.

The conversation shifts again, moving from baking disasters to random anecdotes about work, about old stories that slip out without either of you realizing. And throughout it all, you notice something: Seungcheol is listening.

Not just nodding along, not just waiting for his turn to speak. He’s really listening—leaning in, responding at the right moments, his gaze locked on yours with a kind of attentiveness that makes your stomach flip in a way you don’t want to acknowledge yet.

It’s different. He’s different.

And maybe, just maybe, that’s why this doesn’t feel like a mistake.

Fuck, do you love him, still?

────୨ৎ────

After the weekend cafe date with Seungcheol came the work week, much to your displeasure. Today has been an especially exhausting day. The kind that seeps into your bones, weighing down your limbs, making even the simple act of unlocking your apartment door feel like a chore. You barely manage to kick off your shoes before collapsing onto the couch, groaning into the cushions.

You didn’t even hear your phone buzzing at first. It takes a few rings before you muster enough energy to blindly fumble for it.

“Hello?” Your voice is muffled, with your face buried against the pillow.

“You sound dead,” comes Seungcheol’s voice, laced with amusement but tinged with concern.

“Feel like it too,” you groan. “Long day.”

There was a pause on the other end. Then, softly, “Have you eaten?”

“I had lunch,” you say.

Another pause. Then, decisively, “I’m coming over.”

“What? No, you don’t have to—”

“Too late. I’m already on my way.”

And just like that, the call ends. You blink owlishly at your screen, a bit too drained to call him back in protest.

Twenty minutes later, a knock comes from your door.

When you open it, Seungcheol stands there, hair still slightly tousled from the wind outside, carrying a takeout bag in one hand and a six-pack of your favorite drinks in the other.

“You used to drink these when you were stressed,” he says, holding up the pack as if that explains everything.

Your heart does something funny in your chest, but do your best to ignore it. Instead, you step aside, letting him in for the first time.

Seungcheol makes himself comfortable in your kitchen, as if it’s the most natural thing in the world. He unpacks the food and searches for utensils without asking you for help. And before you know it, you’re sitting at your small dining table, warm food in front of you, while he nudges a drink toward your hand.

The silence is comfortable. You didn’t realize how much you needed this until now—until the tension in your shoulders starts to ease, until the simple act of eating next to someone who cares about you makes the world feel a little less heavy.

At some point, you sigh, rolling your neck to work out a kink. You hadn’t meant for it to be noticeable, but Seungcheol caught it immediately. Without a word, he shifts his chair closer and places a warm hand against your shoulder, thumb pressing gently into the tension there.

You freeze.

“It’s okay,” he murmurs, voice softer now. “I got you. Just relax.”

And somehow, without even thinking, you do.

It isn’t grand, or dramatic, really. It’s just the quiet comfort of someone who knows you better than you thought he did. Who is all of a sudden remembering the little things, after all these years. He eases the weight of the world off your shoulders without even trying.

You don’t pull away.

And neither does he.

────୨ৎ────

A week later, and the workday is winding down. But the plans you’ve been looking forward to—a nice dinner that feels like a step forward, another stitch in the frayed edges between you and Seungcheol—suddenly teeter on the edge of collapse.

You’re gathering your things when Director Chun steps into the office, looking around before his gaze lands on Seungcheol.

"Department Head Choi Seungcheol," Chun calls, his voice even but firm. "I need you to stay back for a bit. The New York office just called me about a misalignment between Mr. Han’s vision and the work we submitted to their team. We need to smooth it over before tomorrow morning. I estimate it won’t take very long."

Your breath catches. Director Chun always sugarcoats things. It wouldn’t be just a couple more minutes, it’d be several hours of extra work.

It’s just a few words, a simple request by the director. But it’s enough to send you spiraling.

Because you've been here before.

You know how this story ends.

Your grip tightens around the strap of your bag as a million thoughts flood in, rapid and overwhelming. He’s going to say yes. Of course, he’s going to say yes.

Work will always come first. It always has, always will.

He’ll put you second again, and you’ll be left waiting, just like before.

The words you want to say—please don’t go, pick me, just this once—stick like molasses to the back of your throat.

You can’t stay here to hear him confirm it. You can’t bear to watch it happen all over again.

You walk away before Seungcheol answers the director, your feet carrying you toward the stairwell in a daze. The second the heavy door shuts behind you, a shaky breath escapes your lips. Your fingers press against your temples as you squeeze your eyes shut, willing away the sting that threatens to turn into tears.

Your chest constricts so harshly, you think you might be having a heart attack.

It shouldn't hurt this much.

But it does.

The past and present blur together in your mind—memories of cold dinners, of unanswered texts, of waiting and waiting and waiting. Until you stopped waiting altogether.

Why on earth did you think that things would be any different, now?

The door swings open with a rush of air.

"Sweetheart?"

Your stomach drops.

Seungcheol steps inside, eyes scanning the dimly lit stairwell before landing on you. His brows pull together in concern as he closes the distance between you.

"Hey," he murmurs, reaching out hesitantly. "What’s wrong?"

You shake your head, stepping back before his fingers can brush against your arm. "You don’t have to be here, Cheol."

He frowns. "What are you talking about?"

Defeated, you let out a humorless laugh, gesturing vaguely. "You don’t have to chase after me just to make me feel better about you choosing work over dinner. I get it. I know how this goes."

A pause. Then, softly, "Is that what you think happened?"

The sincerity in his voice makes you falter.

You blink at him, your heart pounding, confusion creeping in through the cracks of your resolve. "What do you mean?"

Seungcheol exhales, running a hand through his hair before stepping closer. This time, you don’t move away.

"I told Director Chun I couldn’t stay," he says, voice steady. "I told him I had a prior commitment, and that I wasn’t going to break it."

Your eyes widen comically. "What?"

His lips twitch into something that’s not quite a smile, but close. "I said no, sweetheart. I told him I had somewhere more important to be."

More important.

Your throat tightens.

"You—" The words catch, and you swallow hard, trying to process it. "You said no?"

"I did." His gaze softens, the weight of the moment settling between you. "I told you I wouldn’t let work come between us again."

His voice is quiet, but it carries years’ worth of unspoken apologies.

Of love that had once been misplaced, misdirected, but never truly lost.

Your eyes flicker over his face, searching. And the truth is written in the way he looks at you—open, unwavering, as if he’s willing you to believe him.

And you do.

It’s terrifying how easily you do.

The wall you’d built, the one meant to protect you from this very moment, begins to crumble under the warmth in his gaze.

Your breath shudders. "Cheol…"

His hand lifts, hovering near your cheek, close enough that you can feel the heat of it but not touching. His wide, sparkling eyes look eagerly into yours—giving you the choice, letting you decide.

Your chest tightens at his cute patience, the silent question lingering between you.

The space between you grows smaller.

You don’t know who moves first, but suddenly, you’re impossibly close, the tips of your noses nearly brushing. His breath fans over your lips, and your eyes flutter shut.

He doesn’t move to kiss you, but that’s okay. Because you’re finally ready to cross that line.

Tilting your chin up into him, your lips meet, and the warmth of him grounds you in a way that nothing else ever replaced, or ever could. His lips are so, so, soft, and as he melts into the kiss, he lets out a small content sigh. Everything about the kiss is familiar, and yet, somehow different. It’s charged with a kind of electric buzz, the tension from the past weeks finally coming to a head.

For a moment, the world is still. You only see Seungcheol.

Then, in a voice so soft it almost disappears into the quiet of the stairwell, Seungcheol parts from your lips for just a centimeter, whispering, "I meant what I said. You don’t have to worry anymore. I’m 110% for you, I love you."

You close your eyes, exhaling against his skin, relishing his touch. You say the next words with a full chest, “I love you so much, Cheol.”

Because for the first time in a long time, you believe him.

Masterlist

Author's Note: did u get the title?? seungcheol's the python bc he makes ur chest constrict and love is hard and hurts us sometimes anywayz happy valentines day <3

Disclaimer: nothing i write is representative of how svt acts off camera, take their names as stand-ins for oc's!!

Taglist: @syluslittlecrows - @junplusone - @fragmentof-indifference - @junniesoleilkth - @woncheecks - @peachypie97 - @viciousdarlings - @11zzyy - @thepoopdokyeomtouched - @dmstoyangyang - @christinewithluv - @snowcake666 - @rjreins - @namk00kie - @homelouisgirl - @slvrstrs - @jimintopiaaaa - @coupshour - @babycaratdeul

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barbwritesstuff · 2 days ago

Text

Thicker Than - Full Moon Update

Demo Link

Happy full moon everyone! I’m still just doing my thing, slowly but surely nudging this game towards the finish line. I know it’s taking forever, but I know I’ll get there in the end. I’m a completionist. It’s a blessing and a curse.

In terms of new stuff, I’ve added some new stuff to chapter 12, finished chapter 13, and added but not finished chapters 14 and 15. The players who get the most new content right now are players who want to talk to or kill the king and/or those who’ve romanced Nathan. However, there is some new connective tissue text that all players will see.

The demo has a few holes in it right now. I’ve been skipping over the romantic scenes so I can get a bigger, clearer picture of how the endgame is going to look and how it’s going to play out. Once that’s locked in, I think it’ll be easier to interweave the auxiliary stuff (which includes most of the kissing). In the meantime, I’m so excited to write these last three endings. I’m so close I can taste 'em.

Oh! And, before I forget, I haven’t had time to made new chapter titles (I made them way back when I started writing this game and only made up to chapter 13) so those headers aren’t going to look pretty yet, but hopefully that’s okay.

Update Details +++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

As of the 13th of February 2025

Chapter 13 is finished

I've added Chapters 14 and 15 (both incomplete)

Additional Words: 18,929 (excluding commands)

Total Word Count: 497,962 (excluding commands)

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

P.S.

If you want, you can become a member on Kofi to see my weekly progress for $5 AUD (which is like $3.13 USD) a month. Full disclose, I'm not writing very fast right now. I've got several projects I need to balance and also real life stuff (like earning a living) to worry about. However, I'm really trying to update every Friday and I'm very grateful for anyone who does contribute. Just that little bit of extra income at the end of the month has made what would've been some very stressful times last year manageable and I cannot thank you all enough.

Also included: random unscheduled blog posts.

P.S (squared)

I have a book coming out!

Spaceship vs Dracula. It's very silly, it's very strange. It's the thing that got me through 2022.

Also, because it's full moon here's a gif. Remember when I used to open all of these update posts with a random moon gif? Yeah. Me neither.

#thicker than if

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jazzy96scorpio · 3 days ago

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The Price of Fame

Description: Fame. Jealousy. Betrayal. When a photo of Pedro Pascal and his co-star goes viral, you long year relationship is pushed to its breaking point. Can you two overcome the storm and find your way back to each other?

Pairing: You / Pedro Pascal

Warnings ⚠️: adult content, established relationship, explicit scenes, strong language, hot and heavy scenes, and some relationship rollercoaster moments, oral sex (f rec), unprotected sex, sex, SMUT.

You've been warned! 😉

Word count: 1800

"I'm so excited for you, Pedro," you said, wrapping your arms around Pedro's neck as he finished packing his bag.

The sun streamed through the window, painting the room in a warm, golden light. "Alabama, huh? That's gonna be amazing."

Pedro chuckled, nuzzling his nose against yours. "Yeah, it's pretty wild. Marvel's going all out with this Fantastic Four launch. Saturn 5 rocket, live stream… the whole spectacle."

He pulled back slightly, his eyes searching yours. "I'm going to miss you this week. It's going to be a whirlwind."

"I'll miss you too," you replied, a small pang of longing hitting you. "Wish I could be there, cheering you on. But, you know, deadlines."

You gestured towards your laptop bag. "Work calls."

Pedro kissed you softly. "I know. But I'll be thinking of you. I'll text you as soon as I can after the trailer launch. Maybe we can do a video call later in the week?"

"Definitely," you said, smiling. "Show 'em what you've got, Papi! And try not to cause too much chaos with the other superheroes."

He grinned, a mischievous glint in his eyes.

"No promises. But seriously, I'll call you." He grabbed his bag, gave you one last lingering kiss, and headed out the door.

He was staying at your place for the weekend, and now he was off to Alabama.

You watched him go, a mix of excitement for him and a little bit of sadness at his leaving swirling inside you. You knew this was part of his life, the premieres, the press junkets, the constant travel. And most of the time, you were okay with it. But sometimes, like now, you just wished you could be there with him, sharing those moments.

The phone buzzed in your work desk.

You glanced at the caller ID – Mi Amor. A smile tugged at your lips. You slipped away from your desk for a moment and answered.

"Hey, Papi" you said softly, trying to keep the excitement out of your voice so your colleagues wouldn't suspect anything.

"Hey, babe," Pedro's voice was a little muffled, like he was cupping the phone. "Just got here. It's… well, it's a spectacle, like I said. You have to see this. Don't miss it, okay?"

"I promised I wouldn't," you replied. "I'm trying to watch at my desk, but work is… well, work." You could hear the muffled sounds of laughter and chatter in the background. Someone – you thought it might be Vanessa – said something you couldn't quite make out, followed by another burst of laughter. A tiny flicker of jealousy sparked within you, but you quickly tamped it down. It's his job, you reminded yourself. They're co-stars. It's all part of the show.

"Okay, good," Pedro said. "Just wanted to make sure. I gotta go, they're about to start. I'll text you later, okay?"

"Okay," you said. "Have fun, Papi. Shine bright my love!"

"Will do," he said, and the line went dead.

You returned to your desk, your heart still fluttering a little. You pulled up the live stream on your computer and managed to catch the very beginning of the launch, the booming voice introducing the cast, the roar of the crowd. Then, just as Pedro was about to speak, your phone rang – a client call you couldn't ignore. With a sigh, you minimized the live stream, promising yourself you'd catch the rest later. But as the day wore on, work kept piling up, and you knew you wouldn't be able to watch it live.

As your workday finally wrapped up, your best friend and colleague, Sarah, sidled over to your desk, looking a little worried. "Hey," she said, her voice low. "Everything okay with you and Pedro? I mean…"

"Yeah, why?" you asked, a little confused. "Everything's fine. Why?"

Sarah grimaced. "Just… take a look at this." She shoved her phone in front of your face. It was a picture on Instagram – Pedro and Vanessa Kirby, his co-star, all cozied up. Pedro was leaning his head on her shoulder, and they were both grinning.

A hot flash of… something… went through you. Jealousy? Anger? You tried to brush it off. He's always like that with everyone, you told yourself. It's just Pedro being Pedro. But the picture stuck in your head.

Your phone started buzzing like crazy. Instagram. You knew it. You checked, and your stomach dropped.

Comments on your pictures with Pedro.

💬"He's a jerk." 💬"He dumped you, lol."

And then, the real low blows:

💬"You cuckold."

💬"He's been cheating on you, bet."

💬"You were never in his league."

Ouch. They were just words on a screen, but they still stung like hell.

Then you saw it – the same picture Sarah had shown you, now splashed all over the news sites.

"Pedro Pascal and Vanessa Kirby: New Couple Alert?" the headlines screamed.

The articles were full of gossip about their "obvious chemistry" and how "close" they looked. A simple photo, blown way out of proportion.

You felt a lump in your throat. You tried calling Pedro, your fingers a little shaky. Voicemail. You called again. Still nothing. That lump in your throat just kept getting bigger.

💔

You got home, a simmering anger bubbling inside you.

He hadn't called. Just a short, text message:

💬"At dinner with the crew. Will call later."

Later. As if a quick text could erase the images swirling in your mind, the whispers of strangers on the internet, the gnawing feeling in your gut.

Hours ticked by. You tried to distract yourself, but your phone was a constant presence, a silent judge. Then, another notification. Instagram.

Your blood ran cold. It was a post from Pedro. A clip from the movie, a scene with him and Vanessa… kissing.

Something inside you snapped.

All the carefully constructed walls you'd built around your insecurities, around your doubts, crumbled.

The anger, which had been simmering all evening, boiled over. It wasn't just jealousy anymore. It was hurt, betrayal, a deep sense of humiliation.

And then, the anger dissolved into something even more painful: tears. Hot, uncontrollable tears streamed down your face as you stared at the screen, the image of Pedro and Vanessa kissing burning into your memory.

Later that night, your phone buzzed, the insistent vibration cutting through the silence of your apartment. Pedro.

You stared at the screen, your anger still raw, your hurt still fresh. You didn't want to answer. You really didn't want to answer.

But after a while, exhaustion won, and you finally picked up.

"Hello," you said, your voice flat, betraying none of the turmoil inside.

"Hey," Pedro's voice was low, tentative. "I… I saw the stuff online. I was going to call you sooner, but…"

"But what, Pedro?" you interrupted, your voice rising. "You were too busy kissing your co-star for the cameras? Too busy fueling the gossip mill?"

"It's not like that," he said, a defensive edge creeping into his tone. "It's my job. It's part of promoting the film. Vanessa's just a friend."

"A friend you lean your head on and kiss in movie scenes?" you scoffed. "A friend you make out with while the whole world speculates about your relationship?"

"It was a scene!" he exclaimed, his voice now louder. "It's acting! You know that!"

"Oh, I know," you said, the sarcasm dripping from your words. "I also know that I don't go around snuggling up to my male friends, even if it was just a photo. Oh wait, I don't have any male friends, do I? Remember? Because someone was so jealous, I had to cut them all off!"

"That was different!" he retorted.

"How was it different, Pedro?" you demanded, your voice trembling with rage. "Tell me how it's different to be pawed all over by a co-star while your girlfriend is being called a 'cuckold' on the internet!"

"Don't say that!" he shouted. "I'm not… I would never…"

"You didn't have to," you said, your voice now dangerously quiet. "Your fans did it for you."

"Look," he said, trying to soften his tone, "I'm sorry. I didn't think… I didn't realize it would blow up like this."

"Sorry isn't good enough, Pedro," you whispered, the tears threatening to spill again. "It's never good enough."

"What do you want from me?" he asked, his voice laced with frustration.

"I wanted honesty," you said, your voice cracking. "I wanted respect. I wanted… I wanted you to think about how this makes me feel, not just about how it makes you look."

"I do think about you!" he protested.

"No, you don't!" you screamed. "You think about yourself, your career, your image! You think about everything except me!"

"That's not true!" he yelled back.

"Yes, it is!" you shouted, your voice raw with emotion. "You're so busy playing the charming movie star that you've forgotten how to be a decent human being!"

"I am a decent human being!" he roared.

"Prove it!" you screamed.

The argument just kept escalating, insults and accusations flying back and forth. You were both yelling, neither of you listening. Finally, completely fed up, you just chucked your phone across the room. It hit the wall with a crack. And then… silence.

🖤

Days blurred into one another. You finally got around to fixing your phone. A thousand missed calls. Hundreds of messages. All from Pedro. You scrolled through them, a hollow ache in your chest.

I don't know what we are anymore, you thought. Nine years. Nine years, and you felt like you were back at square one, questioning everything.

He pushed past you, stepping inside your apartment. "We need to talk," he said, his voice tight.

Then, one night, he was there. Knocking on your door. You were a little drunk, trying to numb the pain with a bottle of wine.

You opened the door, your heart pounding in your chest. "I told you, I don't want to see you," you said, your voice thick.

"About what, Pedro?" you scoffed. "About how you humiliated me in front of the entire world? About how you made me feel like I was nothing?"

"That's not what I meant to do," he said, his jaw clenching.

"What did you mean to do?" you asked, your voice rising. "What am I to you, Pedro? After all this time, after all these years, am I just… company? Someone to… fuck, when you need it?"

He looked at you, his eyes filled with a mixture of sadness and guilt. "No," he said, his voice barely a whisper. "No, that's not… you're not…"

"Then what am I?" you demanded, tears threatening to spill. "Tell me, Pedro. Tell me the truth."

He tried to apologize, stumbling over his words. "I didn't… I didn't cheat on you," he said. "I swear. I was loyal."

"Loyal?" you laughed, a bitter, hollow sound. "Is that your definition of loyal, Pedro? Posing for pictures with your co-star, writing love scenes on Instagram? Is that loyal?"

"I'll never do it again," he said, his voice pleading. "I promise. I love you. I… I want to marry you."

You stared at him, incredulous. "Oh, now you want to marry me?" you said, the sarcasm dripping from your voice. "After all this? After you've dragged my name through the mud?"

He looked away, shame written all over his face. He’d always been emotionally unavailable, terrified of commitment. And now…

"Don't," you said, cutting him off. "Just… don't."

"I do love you," he said, his voice thick with emotion. "I can't lose you."

"You already have," you said, your voice breaking.

"No," he said, stepping closer, his eyes searching yours. "Please, don't say that."

"It's over, Pedro," you whispered, the words heavy with finality.

"No," you said, shaking your head. "I can't deal with this anymore."

A fresh wave of hurt washed over you, and a memory surfaced – a video you'd seen online, a clip from an interview, a casual joke that now felt like a dagger to the heart.

"I even saw the video," you said, your voice laced with sarcasm. " She's 'My wife,' you called her. Funny, right? Hilarious."

His face fell. "That was a joke," he mumbled. "It was taken out of context."

"Oh, I'm sure it was," you said, your sarcasm dripping.

"Just like everything else. Just like the cozy photos of you holding hands, just like the kissing scene, just like all the whispers and rumors. It's all just a big joke, isn't it, Pedro? A big, hilarious joke at my expense."

"That's not what I meant," he said, his voice cracking.

"I don't care what you meant," you said, your voice rising.

"What you did was pretty damn clear. What you said was pretty damn clear. And what I felt was crystal clear. I felt like a total idiot. I felt betrayed. I felt�� like I didn't even matter."

He reached out to touch you, but you flinched away.

"Don't," you said, your voice hard. "Just… don't touch me."

"You're being totally unreasonable," he said, his voice laced with frustration. "You're making a huge deal out of nothing."

"Oh, I'm being unreasonable?" you retorted, your eyes flashing.

"Am I?" you retorted, your eyes flashing.

"Or am I finally seeing things clearly? Am I finally realizing that I deserve better than this? Than being your secret, than being the woman you hide away, than being the butt of your jokes?"

He looked at you, his eyes filled with a mixture of pain and frustration. "I love you," he whispered again, his voice hoarse.

"No," you said, shaking your head. "You don't. You love the idea of me. You love the way I make you look. But you don't love me. Not the real me. Because if you did, you wouldn't have done any of this."

"Please," he begged, tears now welling up in his eyes. "Just give me another chance."

You looked at him, really looked at him, and saw not the charming movie star, but a flawed, deeply flawed man. And you knew, with a certainty that settled deep in your bones, that you couldn't do this anymore. "No," you said, your voice firm. "It's over, Pedro. It's really over."

He suddenly pulled you close, his grip tightening on your arms. He kissed you, a desperate, almost frantic kiss. You tried to pull away, but he wouldn't let you go. He kept repeating, over and over, "I love you. I can't lose you. I love you."

You know you couldn't let him go. Not yet. Tears streamed down your face as you kissed him back, a desperate, broken sob escaping your lips.

"Why, Pedro?" you whispered against his mouth. "Why are you doing this to me?"

He kept kissing you, his touch both rough and tender. "You'll be my wife," he mumbled, his voice thick. "Only mine… and I'm gonna be only yours."

The words, even though they sounded a little possessive, sent a shiver down your spine. You kissed him back, harder this time, clinging to him like he was the only thing keeping you from falling apart.

He scooped you up into his arms, carrying you easily into the bedroom. Clothes flew everywhere – shirts, pants, everything – landing in a messy heap on the floor. His kisses got more urgent, more demanding. He missed you. He needed you. It hit you like a ton of bricks.

"I missed you so damn much," he growled, his voice low and husky as he kissed you roughly. "I need you, baby. Seriously."

He kissed you gently, brushing the tears off your cheeks with his thumb. His lips trailed down your neck, then lower, to your breasts. He suckled, teasing, sending shivers all the way down to your toes. "Mmm, you taste so good," he mumbled against your skin. "Like… like sunshine and trouble."

He moved lower, his tongue tracing a path down your stomach, then even lower, to your core. He licked you, swirling and teasing, driving you absolutely crazy.

You were soaking wet, practically dripping. "Oh, Pedro," you moaned, your fingers tangling in his hair. "Fuck me, please."

He looked up at you, his eyes dark and intense.

Slowly, deliberately, he pushed himself inside you. He watched you, his eyes locked on yours, as he moved slowly, kissing you deeply. His full weight pressed down on you, making you feel grounded, like you were finally in the right place.

"So perfect," he whispered, his breath hot against your ear. "You're so damn tight."

"Fuck me, Pedro," you begged, your hips lifting to meet his thrusts. "Harder."

He did what you asked, his movements getting more urgent, more powerful. His cock was hard and thick, filling you up completely. "Yeah, baby," he groaned, his voice rough. "That's it. Take it what you need."

He grabbed your butt cheeks, pulling you closer, grinding his hips against yours. "You like that, don't you?" he asked, a smirk on his lips. "You like it when I'm a little rough."

You answer with a moan "Yes, fucking yes, Papi!"

Your pussy clenched around him, milking his cock with every thrust. You came, a long, drawn-out orgasm that shook you to your core. You squirted, your juices dripping down his balls and huge cock, soaking the sheets.

"Oh, shit," you cried out, your body trembling. And then, he came, a guttural cry escaping his lips as he filled you completely with his seed.

He leaned closer, his forehead resting against yours. He kissed you softly, his breath warm against your skin. "I love you," he whispered, his voice filled with tenderness. "I love you so damn much."

After you showered, you lay tangled together in bed, the afterglow still warm between you. He held you close, his arms wrapped tightly around you. "I love you, mi amor." he murmured, his voice soft.

Then, he got up, reached into the pocket of his jeans, and knelt beside the bed. He pulled out a small velvet box, revealing a sparkling diamond ring. "Will you marry me?" he asked, his eyes shining with love.

Your heart did a flip. Finally. After all the crap, all the doubt, all the mess, this was it. This was the moment you had been waiting for. "Yes, Papi" you whispered, tears of joy streaming down your face. "Yes, Pedro. I'll marry you."

Thank you for the reading 💜

Please like, reblog and comment. ❣️

Request by @bonneyzsk

I hope so you are gonna like it 😊

My native language is not English so I apologize for mistakes.

#pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal fanfic #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal smut #pedro pascal x you #pedro pascal #pedrohub #pedro pascal x y/n #pedro pascal fandom

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ja3yun · 15 hours ago

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Pillow Talk | L.HS

bf!heeseung x gf!reader warnings: fluff, smut (mdni), unprotected sex, cream pie, oral (m.rec), nipple play, mentions of alcohol and insecurities, pet names (baby), not proofread, lmk if i missed anything! w.c: 6.2k synopsis: after a night out with friends, heeseung's insecurities surface, making him question his worth as a boyfriend. with some reassuring pillow talk and a night spent wrapped in one another, he's determined to prove himself a/n: hi! happy valentine's day to my loves <33 i hope you spend the day surrounded by love - romantic or platonic. i love valentine's day more than anything so this is my gift to you! if you think you've read it before, it's because you have! this is a reupload that won the poll so enjoy!

“Baby?”

A soft, lazy groan vibrates through the stillness of the room. Your body which is still heavy with sleep feels the tender pressure of a hand shaking your arm gently, followed by the familiar brush of petal-soft lips against your shoulder. The gesture is soft but something about the way he calls for you feels different, slightly urgent even though there is no panic in his tone.

“Baby, can you wake up for a minute?”

There’s something off in Heeseung’s voice - something unsure and a tad bit unsteady. His breath catches, then leaves him in a long, heavy exhale, like he’s trying to let something go but can’t. Even with your eyes still closed, the sound of it tugs at your chest, finally stirring you from sleep. The last remnants of drowsiness fade, replaced by a quiet kind of worry.

You shift under the blankets, forcing your eyelids open. The world is still blurred at the edges, softened by sleep, but your focus lands on him immediately. From what you can make out thanks to the streetlight outside, his face looks drawn - tired, but more than that. Troubled.

A slow blink and rub of your eye clears the haze from your vision.

“Heeseung?” Your voice is quiet, thick with sleep but there’s an undercurrent of concern. “Are you okay, baby?”

The silence between you stretches and the silence of the midnight hour amplifies everything - the rustling of sheets, the hum of the city, the way his fingers twitch slightly against the fabric.

He seems…nervous.

Last night, he’d gone out with friends. It was just supposed to be dinner, a break he’d needed after weeks of drowning in work and deadlines. But now, the faint flush on his cheeks and the pink along the bridge of his nose tell you he had more than just a couple - that much is obvious. What’s not obvious is why he’s still awake, sitting here like something’s eating away at him.

His hand drifts to your hair, sweeping a few strands away from your face, and for a brief second, his lips twitch, like he might smile. It’s something he does without thinking, a habit that’s settled into him over time. Even now, even like this, he pauses to take you in - soft, half-asleep, so stunningly beautiful.

Still, the weight in his eyes doesn’t lift.

“Hee,” you murmur, a little more awake now. “What’s wrong?”

His gaze drops. His lips part slightly, hesitation tightening his shoulders. Seconds drag by before he finally speaks.

“Do you think I’m a good boyfriend?”

The question makes you blink. Once. Then again.

“What?”

His eyes meet yours again, uncertain, searching for an answer without you having to utter a word. “Like…am I doing enough?”

That shakes the last bit of sleep from your mind. You sit up slowly, instinct guiding your hand to his chest, where his heartbeat is steady but tense under your palm. “Heeseung, of course you are. Why would you even ask that?”

The words even feel too simple for what you really mean. Because the truth is - he’s not just a good boyfriend. He’s everything.

Sure, there are hard days. Moments when life is messy, when you argue or when things feel overwhelming. But even when you test one another, he never makes you feel anything less than loved. It’s not just about grand gestures with him - it’s in the little things. The way he remembers details you don’t even remember telling him. The way he texts you just because. The way he looks at you when he thinks you won’t notice - like you’re irreplaceable.

And maybe that’s what hurts the most; seeing doubt where there should never be any.

Sitting here in the dim half-light, you can see the weight he’s carrying - the slight hunch of his shoulders, the way his lips press together like he’s holding something back. And yet, even through the uncertainty in his eyes, he’s still reaching for you. Not just for comfort, but to make sure you’re okay, too. Still scared he’s not the perfect boyfriend.

That’s who Heeseung is. He loves deeply and gives even when he feels empty.

Your fingers trace gently along his jaw, warmth meeting warmth as you take him in. “Heeseung,” you murmur, steady, soft. “You’re the best boyfriend I could ever ask for. You know that, right?” A pause, letting the words sink into him, but they don’t reach where you need them to. You try again, a little more pointed. “What’s going on, baby? What’s making you feel like this?”

His gaze flickers, doubt clouding his eyes, but your words seem to seep into the cracks, softening the tension in his face. The quiet between you is tough and unfamiliar. The bedroom you lay in is usually brimming with laughter. It’s so strange to see him like this.

Although you don’t have all the answers as to why he’s so heavy, you’ll hold him through whatever storm is brewing in his mind - just as he’s done for you more times than you can count.

Heeseung exhales, rubbing the back of his neck. His eyes drift, landing somewhere in the soft glow of the room before he finally speaks. “At dinner…the girls were talking about their boyfriends. About how they don’t really pay attention to them, or like, they never ask about their day, or forget things that matter. Always late, always distracted, y’know?”

“And what has that got to do with you?” You ask slowly, genuinely not seeing the correlation.

His brows knit together, lost in thought, and you can see the spiral beginning - the way he’s already picking apart every moment in your relationship, analysing each time he might have been tired, distracted, or anything less than perfect. You know him too well. His heart is so full of care that the idea of falling short - of disappointing you - feels absolutely unbearable.

But where he sees gaps, you only see love. Commitment. A kind of attentiveness that most people can only dream of. Genuinely, people yearn for a man like Heeseung, so it hurts to see him like this.

Heeseung has never been that boyfriend. The one who forgets anniversaries, who doesn’t show up when it matters, who brushes off your feelings like they’re an afterthought. If anything, he’s the opposite.

You remember the countless nights he’s sat with you, listening, no matter how exhausted he was, his eyes never leaving yours. The way he never lets a single date slip by unnoticed, whether it’s a quiet dinner out or a handwritten note tucked beside your coffee cup before he heads out. The way he remembers things you don’t even remember telling him - your favourite parts of a book, a song you mentioned offhand weeks ago, the smallest details that make you feel seen in a way no one else ever has.

A breath of laughter escapes you - soft, incredulous, not mocking but disbelieving. “Baby,” you say gently, warmth laced in every word. “Those things? The things they were talking about? That’s just…what most guys do at some point.”

At that, Heeseung shrinks a little, his shoulders drawing in as though your words only confirm his worst fears. His face falls, vulnerability flickering across his expression. You see the downward spiral start again, but before he can fall too deep, you reach for him. Your palm finds his cheek, thumb brushing over his skin in slow, reassuring strokes.

You don’t let him sit in those thoughts for long.

“But you - you’re the rare 0.0000001% that isn’t like that,” you continue, your voice steady and confident in your own declaration. “Hee, you listen to me even when I’m rambling about the same thing for the hundredth time. You show up for me, no matter how tired or stressed you are. I don’t think you’ve ever missed a date, let alone forgotten one.”

His lips part slightly, like he wants to argue, but the words don’t come. His eyes meet yours, uncertainty still lingering, but something in the way you’re looking at him keeps him quiet.

“You’ve never turned up late to anything, not once,” you add, a small smile tugging at your lips as your hand drifts down, resting against his chest. Beneath your palm, his heartbeat is vibrating with love. “You’re thoughtful in ways those girls were probably wishing for when they were talking. And even when things get rough, you never make me feel like I’m alone in it. You’re always there, Heeseung. Always.”

Heeseung exhales, slow and deep, your words finally settling into him. There’s still hesitation in his eyes, but the pressure in his shoulders has shifted, loosened just a little. He shakes his head, the smallest of smiles ghosting across his lips. But you can tell - he’s still trying to let go of the doubt entirely.

“I just…” He pauses, glancing down as if searching for the right words. “I don’t ever want to take you for granted. I never want to be that guy who doesn’t pay attention. Who makes you feel like you’re not important.”

“You could never,” you whisper, leaning in to press a soft kiss to his lips, letting it linger just long enough to feel the warmth of him. “The fact that you want to be a good boyfriend already proves that you are one.”

Heeseung lets out a soft laugh, his breath warm against your lips as you peck his lips once more to punctuate your reassurances. He bites his lip, giving you that boyish, slightly embarrassed smile that always makes your heart flutter.

“You think so?” he asks, his voice quieter now, almost like he’s seeking reassurance even though he knows he’s already got it.

You raise an eyebrow playfully, a smirk tugging at the corner of your lips. “I know so,” you tease, letting your fingers trace gentle circles on his chest. “I mean, come on - how many boyfriends out there get worried in the middle of the night about whether they’re doing enough for their girlfriends? You’re basically setting the bar impossibly high for everyone else.”

Heeseung chuckles again, shaking his head in mock disbelief. “Oh, so now I’m the standard, huh?”

“You’re more than the standard, you’re the dream.”

Grinning widely, your boyfriend leans in to kiss you once again, this time more confident and at ease. It’s not like Heeseung to be vulnerable like this, the mix of alcohol and the early hours playing a massive part in his sudden change in behaviour. But he is so thankful that you aren’t judging him or deflecting his concerns in a passive moment even though you could have. It speaks volumes of your love and adoration for him, and that makes him feel more loved than anything else in the world.

His pretty lips melt with yours, your love blooming through each passing breath and brush of his nose with yours. His palms find a place on your waist as he guides you to crawl onto his lap, the sheets that were keeping you warm in your cocoon of sleep now long gone, the heat from Heeseung’s love now flooding your bloodstream.

His hands slide up your waist, fingers exploring the curve of your sides before resting at the small of your back. The heat of his touch burns through the thin fabric of your pyjamas, setting you alight under his fingertips. He pulls you closer, guiding you to straddle his lap with ease and you can feel the beat of his heart and the ridge of his cock all at once - lust and love both present.

The kiss deepens and you find yourselves in a rhythm, the kind where neither of you is in a rush, savouring the moment for all it’s worth. His lips move with yours in an intoxicating way, every caress from his tongue sends shivers along your spine. He tastes like something familiar, something safe and beautiful - like home.

“I love you so fucking much, baby,” he murmurs into the kiss, his voice dripping in longing, each word brushing against your lips like a secret meant only for you. His breath fans over your face and the way he speaks, the pure adoration in his tone, makes your chest swell with so much emotion you feel like you might physically combust. It’s a confession he’s made a thousand times yet each time it feels like the first because he means it just as heavily each time.

If there was ever a reason for your heart to exist, for your lungs to keep breathing, it is to love Heeseung. Your heart is to keep you alive, but if you can't love him like this, there's no reason for it to keep pumping.

Nodding at his confession, you smile against his lips, a sound of contentment escaping you as you press closer to his chest, wanting to feel every inch of him. You want to be as close as physically possible to this man. Your hands find their way into his hair, fingers tangling in the soft strands as you deepen the kiss, pouring all your love into it.

“I love you too, Hee,” you whisper between kisses, your voice low, filled with a yearning ache that matches his. “Always.”

His hands tighten around you, holding you as though you might slip away, his kisses becoming more urgent, more desperate. It’s the last few worries working through his brain, finding an escape in your comforting embrace.

Hands roaming your now fully alert body, Heeseung grips and caresses every inch of you he can, his fingers dancing along your back as his nails drag down ever so gently, just enough for you to feel the bite. He needs you under his skin. He needs you part of him. He needs you full stop.

Every brush of his lips, every gentle tug of your lower lip, every graze of his teeth sends a thrill through you, making your skin hum with electricity. His hand moves up to cradle your face, his thumb brushing over your cheek as he pulls back just enough to look into your eyes, his gaze dark with emotion, his chest rising and falling with heavy breaths.

“I know we just had a sappy moment and I don’t want this to take away from it, but I’m horny as fuck right now.”

A sharp laugh escapes you, breaking through the moment, and you shake your head at Heeseung's bluntness, though the heat in the room is unmistakable. His words might’ve caught you off guard, but they don’t surprise you - it’s just so him to switch from vulnerability to desire. One of the many, many, reasons you adore him.

You grin goofily at him, your hands still tangled in his hair. “Oh, really?” you tease, your voice light but laced with that same unspoken tension that’s been building between you. “I never would have guessed with your cock poking my thigh.”

You both look down and see Heeseung’s member semi-hard, concealed only by his boxers. It makes you bite your lip in lust as you reply moments that his thick cock has taken you to the stars, has made you arch your back as your heart tries to leap from your chest and shout how much you love his inches pounding into you.

Heeseung's cheeks flush a deep pink, only adding to the alcohol flush he still has blushing over his features, but that signature mischievous grin appears on his face, his embarrassment melting into amusement. He lets out a soft chuckle, his eyes flicking between your teasing gaze and the obvious evidence of his desire pressing against you.

"Well," he says, his voice dropping an octave, his hand tightening slightly on your waist, "you can’t blame me, can you? I mean, look at you." His tone is playful, but there’s no mistaking the hunger behind his words as his eyes drag over your body, drinking in every inch of you. His lips find their way to your neck, teeth working in tandem to nip at your skin before he speaks again. “Y’know, I guess I should prove that I’m a good boyfriend, not just say it.”

A part of you wants to tell him that he proves it every day, that he is even proving it right now, but you know what this will lead to and you’ll be damned if you don’t let him continue. So you play along, smirking as you feel his mouth move south, kissing over your collarbone.

“I think you should,” you giggle out in a moan as his teeth sink into you. The sound escapes your lips, a mixture of laughter and desire, and you feel his cock twitch at the sound, a primal response that only fuels the fire igniting between you both.

Any noise you make is Heeseung’s favourite song.

With a swift motion, Heeseung peels your tank top off, revealing your breasts. He ogles at them, memorising every mark, line, and curve of them as if he doesn’t study them every day. If he was set the challenge to draw them from memory, he could pass with flying colours.

Attaching his mouth to your right nipple, he teasingly bites around the peak and flicks it with his tongue before wrapping his lips around it, sucking gently as though he’s savouring a fine wine; your body has the same effect as alcohol on him anyway.

The sensation sends an electric jolt through you, arching your back and pushing your chest further into him, a silent plea for more. Heeseung's hands grab hold of your breasts, his thumbs brushing over your sensitive skin, heightening the atmosphere in the room.

“God, you’re beautiful,” he mumbles against your skin, punctuating each word with soft kisses. The way he admires you - like you’re a masterpiece and he’s not even worthy to be standing in the museum you decorate - fills you with a sense of pride. You never feel more beautiful or worthy than when you’re in your boyfriend’s arms.

You can’t help but tilt your head back, surrendering to the desire-filled feeling crashing over you as he lavishes the skin on your body.

His mouth moves from your breast to your collarbone, trailing kisses that leave a path of fire in their wake. As he nips at your skin, you feel a rush of warmth pool low in your belly, the heady mix of desire and adoration overwhelming. Heeseung's fingers dig into your hips, anchoring you to him, and you can feel the way his body responds to yours - hard and insistent against your thigh.

“Am I proving myself?” he asks playfully, pulling back to look into your eyes, his gaze dark with lust and mischief. His lips glisten slightly, and you can’t help but admire how he looks at this moment - wild and undone, completely lost in the taste of you.

“More than you know,” you breathe, a smile creeping onto your lips as you lean in closer, brushing your nose against his. The closeness feels intoxicating, every heartbeat syncing with his own. “But I think there’s a way you can really prove it to me.”

With a playful glint in your eye, you push him back gently, manoeuvring him to lie flat against the sheets of your shared bed. You straddle him, your knees pressing into the mattress on either side of his hips as you trap him.

Leaning down, you place a teasing kiss on his lips before trailing your mouth lower, down his chest, relishing every inch of skin you encounter. He tastes like a mix of his body wash and perfume. You take your time, letting your lips brush against his abs, ghosting and teasing while feeling the taut muscles beneath your fingertips as you draw nearer to where you want to be.

“This doesn’t feel like me proving I’m a good boyfriend if you’re doing all the work,” he laughs, his voice rich with playful sarcasm.

“Just relax,” you murmur, looking up at him through your thick lashes, “I’ve got this.” With that, you grip the waistband of his boxers and edge them down, revealing him fully. The sight of his arousal makes your heart race even faster. Fuck, he’s so delicious. The air is thick with tension and anticipation, and as you wrap your fingers around him, the knowing of what’s to come sends shivers down your spine.

“Seriously, Y/N, why don’t I-”

You interrupt him, your voice playful yet sultry, “I’m literally in love with your cock, so if you want to ‘prove’ you’re a good boyfriend, you’ll let me suck it.” You smile innocently up at your boyfriend, and the mischievous glint in your eyes only heightens the intensity surrounding you.

When you say you love his cock, that isn’t even enough to convey just how much you worship it.

For the past year, this single cock has taken you to heaven and back, lifting you past the clouds and into galaxies that haven’t even been explored yet. Heeseung has done more for your pleasure than any self-exploration or rose toy could ever hope to give you. If he wants to talk about women’s complaints about their boyfriends, unsatisfying sex is more common than not, and he has yet to disappoint you.

When you first started dating, the chemistry between you was so strong that you found yourselves lost in each other’s arms on the very first date. Even then, while you still had so much to learn about one another - your likes and dislikes, how you moved with one another - Heeseung somehow pressed every button inside you, fine-tuning spots you hadn’t even discovered. He is so attuned to your needs, both physically and mentally.

That is how you know he is a cut above the rest.

With a teasing grin, you peel his boxers down further, whisking them off and throwing them to the floor. You take a moment to admire him, the way his dick stands eager and glistening. It’s a sight that always sends a rush of heat straight to your cunt, making it purr and mewl out to be stuffed.

Leaning in closer, you let your breath ghost over the tip of his bell, watching as he shakes out a breath in response. The tension in his body is palpable and it fuels your desire even more. You love to see him wriggle beneath you - it makes you feel good. Probably a people-pleaser trait that you’ve developed. But if it’s Heeseung? You want to do your very most to please.

You give him a slow, teasing lick, starting from the base and moving up to the tip, taking your time to savour the taste of him. A low groan escapes his lips, and the sound makes your heart race, sending a thrill of pleasure coursing through you.

“Y/N,” he gasps, his voice thick with desire, “you really don’t have to-”

But you cut him off again, looking at him with pleading eyes. “I want to,” you assure him, your voice a whisper as you lean in, capturing his tip in your mouth. The warmth of you envelops him, and you hollow your cheeks, sucking gently as you begin to take him deeper.

Heeseung’s hands find their way to your hair, fingers threading through it as he guides you softly, his breaths turning into heavy pants. You love the way he watches you, eyes dark and filled with admiration and lust. As you take him deeper, you let your tongue swirl around the tip, teasing and tantalising him, every flick sending shockwaves of pleasure through his body.

Gathering your hair into a ponytail and threading his fingers through your strands to make sure he doesn’t miss a bit, he begins to tie your hair up. He does this; one, so he can see your pretty lips wrapping around him, and two, because he knows how annoyed you get when your hair is in your face. It’s partly the reason why he always carries a bobble on his wrist, for spontaneous times like this.

The black bobble has come in handy more times than he can count; parties, work events, in the car, you name it. You love to suck his cock, there was no denying it, and you will take any opportunity, hence why he is always prepared.

With each slow movement, you can feel Heeseung tense. You watch him closely, revelling in the way his mouth falls open, struggling to find the words to express what he’s feeling - though, his face does enough explaining. His chest rises and falls, each breath coming faster than the last as you continue to work your mouth around him.

“That’s it, baby,” he breathes, his voice shaky as he tries to keep control. You can sense his yearning and quite honestly, it makes you feel so powerful. With every moment that passes, you grow more determined to show him just how much he means to you.

You start to pick up the pace, your head moving faster as you slide him deeper into your mouth, allowing your lips to wrap around him snugly. You can feel the muscles in his thighs tense, his body urging you on as he struggles not to bust a load in your mouth right here and now. The raw desperation in his eyes only ignites your need for him, and you find yourself lost in the rhythm of it, moving in sync with the unspoken connection between you.

“Y/N, please, I’ll not last long,” he murmurs, his voice thick with the urge as he bites his lip, a look of pleasure painting his features. You can tell he’s holding back, wanting to let go but trying to let you take your time. The contrast of his restraint against your eagerness sends a rush of heat through you, and you can feel the warmth of his skin beneath your fingertips as you squeeze his thighs.

Instead of slowing down, you push him fully down your throat, the bell of his cock sitting exactly where your voicebox is located, and you swallow. It’s something you know he loves more than anything and thanks to a lot of practice paired with patience from your boyfriend, you perfected it.

Your throat gags at the intrusion of his cock as it tries to gulp down, Heeseung thrashes beneath you, holding in his breath and he tenses, toes curling in desperation.

“Jesus, fuck,” he gasps out through gritted teeth, the intensity of the sensation overwhelming him. His fingers grip your hair tighter, a mix of pleasure and desperation coursing through him as he feels you take him deeper than ever. The warm heat enveloping him is almost too much to bear, and he can't help but thrust his hips slightly, seeking that delicious friction that drives him wild.

You can feel every shudder and quake of his body, the way he fights against the urge to let go. With each swallow, you tighten your throat around him, your body instinctively reacting to his need. The vibrations from your throat send delicious, torturous vibrations through his entire length, and you can tell he’s so fucking close.

“Y/N,” he moans, his voice laced with an intoxicating mix of desperation and awe. “You’re so fucking perfect.” The way he breathes your name is music to your ears, fueling your desire even more. The rasp in his tone along with the tiny giggle that pushes out, showcases the glee he is feeling within himself. It’s a beautiful contrast to how this rude awakening started.

Determined to push him over the edge, you pull back just slightly, letting the tip of him rest on your tongue as you swirl it around his knob, dipping it past his slit a few times before diving back down, taking him fully once more. Each movement is deliberate, each glide of your lips sending him further into the abyss of pleasure. The sound of your lips slurping and the wetness of your mouth fills the room, creating an intoxicating rhythm that both of you are losing yourself in.

“Please, stop,” he begs, his eyes squeezing shut as he loses himself in the moment. “I can’t hold back much longer.” You revel in the power you have over him, the way your actions leave him breathless and needy. It’s a perfect feeling, one that makes you want to do this forever, to draw out his pleasure as long as you can.

But just as you think he might tumble over the edge, Heeseung suddenly pulls you off of him, his chest heaving with short breaths as he fights to regain control. His gaze is dark, filled with desire and a hint of desperation, and it sends a thrill through you as he locks eyes with you.

With a swift motion, he pulls your face up to his, capturing your lips in a feverish kiss. It’s a clash of passion, sweetness and raw hunger as his mouth moves against yours. He can taste the remnants of your earlier actions on his tongue but he doesn’t care, he’s never been one to care about that, unlike some men.

Again, a reason why he’s a cut above the rest.

As you kiss, his fingers find home between your legs, feeling how wet you are just from sucking his cock. The feeling makes him smirk, his ego growing along with his arousal. He pushes your shorts and underwear to the side and you gasp into his mouth as you feel the heat of his member sliding against your pussy.

“I need you so fucking bad,” Heeseung breathes between kisses. You can feel the urgency in his words, the way his body reacts to yours, the heat radiating off him, makes your heart race faster, and you instinctively press against him, seeking that sweet friction. “Let me fuck you, please, baby.” Heeseung is whiny and desperate, which means you know he’s close, seeking out that sweet release.

And you are more than happy to give him it.

You break the kiss just long enough to whisper, “Fuck me, please, Hee.”

The invitation drives him over the edge, losing control completely, and you can see the flicker of determination in his eyes as he moves to claim you, each moment stretching out as you both surrender to the overwhelming connection that binds you together.

With pure greed, Heeseung captures your lips again, his mouth moving against yours with urgency. When his mouth finds your breasts again, he takes your right nipple into his mouth, sucking gently before nibbling around the peak, his tongue swirling and teasing as he sends waves of pleasure through you.

Slipping into your heat, Heeseung’s cock finally stretches you open, a gasp in harmony orchestrating around your bedroom. Your eyes roll back as he fills you to the hilt, the exquisite sensation sending electric pulses of pleasure coursing through every part of your body. Heeseung pauses for just a moment, letting you adjust to his size, his breath coming in heavy pants as he watches you.

“God, you feel amazing,” he murmurs, his voice thick with need as he slowly pulls back, only to plunge deep again. Each thrust is a slow exploration at first as he seeks to bring you both to that blissful peak. The sensation of his cock sliding against your inner walls sends waves of pleasure through you. Heeseung's eyes never leave your face, drinking in the sight of you lost in ecstasy, each gasp and moan drawing him deeper into the moment.

Heeseung's hands grip your hips, fingers digging into your flesh as he finds a steady rhythm, pushing deeper with each jerk of his hips, trying to prove to you just how great of a boyfriend he can be, how he will give you everything he has; mind, body, and spirit.

Your body instinctively responds, arching into him, craving more as the world around you fades into the background. The sounds of skin slapping against skin echo in the quiet room, punctuated by the choir of your shared gasps and moans.

“Fuck, you’re so tight,” he groans, his voice low and husky, thick with pleasure as he quickens his pace. It doesn’t matter how many times he fucks you, your walls will always welcome him in the most delicious way.

You can feel the tension building within you with each thrust. The urgency in his movements builds, each movement charged with desperation and longing as he works hard to drive you both to the brink. He leans down, capturing your lips in another messy albeit loving kiss, stealing what little breath you have left.

As he kisses you, his hands roam down to your thighs, lifting your legs higher to allow him even deeper access. The shift in angle has you moaning like a pornstar as he hits that sweet spot inside you. You can feel the pressure building, the familiar tight coil of pleasure winding tighter and tighter within you, urging you closer to release.

“Y/N,” he breathes against your lips, his voice low and breathy, filled with both desire and admiration. “You’re everything to me.” The words resonate deep within your chest, and they only serve to heighten the intensity of your love for him. “I want you to cum for me,” he murmurs, his fingers finding your clit, rubbing in perfect time with his thrusts, his thumb pressing down on your sensitive bud.

The sensation of his fingers combined with the friction of his cock sends you spiralling toward the edge. With each stroke of his cock and each slow circle of his thumb, you can feel the heat pooling in your core, a delicious tension building that threatens to overflow.

“Hee, I’m so close,” you gasp, nails digging into his back as the sensations overwhelm you. Heeseung groans in response, his thrusts growing more frantic, his desire matching your own as he chases that high alongside you. “Just a little more, baby, you can take it,” he urges, his voice thick with need, every thrust a promise of the pleasure to come.

Your breaths come in sharp bursts as the pleasure builds to an unbearable peak, the world around you narrowing to just the two of you. With every movement, Heeseung brings you closer to the edge, the rhythm of his hips and the precision of his fingers drawing you nearer to bliss. Your body begins to tremble, the coil inside you winding tighter as Heeseung’s pace quickens, urgency fueling every thrust.

“Let go for me, baby,” he whispers, each word enveloped with need, and that simple command pushes you over the edge. With a shriek, your body explodes in pleasure, waves of ecstasy crashing over you as you shatter beneath him.

The sensation washes over you, and as you lose yourself to it, you can feel Heeseung following closely behind, his own release spilling into you as he groans your name, ropes of his cum painting your walls, the heat adding to your pleasure and making your cunt try and swallow each drop.

As the waves of pleasure finally begin to subside, you find yourself still tangled together, your breaths mingling in the now warm air. Heeseung’s arms are wrapped securely around you, holding you close as his heartbeat gradually slows, though the lingering electricity between you remains palpable. You can feel the aftershocks of your climax coursing through you along with the final jumps of his cock, each pulse a gentle reminder of the ecstasy you just shared.

Heeseung gently pulls out, and a soft whimper escapes your lips at the loss, but he’s quick to pull you into his embrace, cradling you against his chest. His fingers brush through your hair, and you can’t help but smile, the afterglow of your connection illuminating your heart.

“So...did I prove myself,” he breathes, a satisfied grin spreading across his face as he meets your gaze. There’s a playful glint in his eyes, his brows wiggling. You’re so happy to have this Heeseung back, the worries and doubts are long gone.

“You never had to prove anything, Hee. You prove yourself every single day.” Your voice is earnest and raw, meaning every word. Your hand comes up to cradle his cheek as you stroke his flushed face. “I love you so much, baby. Please never doubt yourself like that again.”

Heeseung’s eyes soften at your words, a bashfulness coming over his features as he leans into your touch. The sincerity in your voice wraps around him like a comforting blanket, easing away any lingering insecurities.

“You really mean that?”

“Of course, I do,” you assure him, the depth of your love for him echoing amongst each syllable. “You are everything I have ever wanted and more. I don’t just say it for the sake of it, you know. You really are perfect for me, Hee. Perfect in general.”

His heart swells at your declaration, a grin lighting his face the way the moon lights up the room. “Well, I guess that means I should keep doing what I’m doing, yeah?”

“Abso-fucking-luty, “ you giggle, kissing his chest before you settle your head there, listening to his heartbeat, the one that beats only for you. “Just keep being mine.”

“Always.”

#enhypen smut #enha smut #heeseung smut #enha x reader #enhypen x reader #aj writes #happy valentine's day my lovelies !!

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anashins · 2 days ago

Note

First Valentines without Jaehyun 💔

Pairing: Jaehyun x You

Genre: fluff, romance, suggestive

Word Count: 1,7k

Summary: A flower bouquet delivered to you at your new workplace sends your co-workers into a spiral: Does your oh-so-perfect boyfriend truly exist?

A/N: Happy Valentine's Day and Happy Jaehyun Day! 💖

“Do you like the flowers I sent you?”

“Yes.”

“Then why do you sound so sad?”

You stared at the colorful arrangement you had put in a vase and that was now resting on your table in its full glory of blossomed petals.

Yellow, orange, pink, white - Jaehyun had ordered the shop to compose all your favorite flowers into one huge bouquet, decorated with transparent wrapping papers and ribbons of the same color scheme. It was nothing short of glamorous and attentive. As expected of your boyfriend.

You let out a long sigh that Jaehyun could definitely hear on the other side of the phone. “When I received the bouquet at work today… I was so happy. Nobody else received something like this, ever. But later that day, when I walked past the restrooms, I heard the girl from the marketing department talking about it.”

“Not that girl again…”

“Yes. She said since I never bring my boyfriend to any work related event and now a mysterious bouquet had popped up out of nowhere, I was surely only pretending and sending it to myself for attention since I’m still a newbie. And who receives flowers on the day before Valentine’s Day anyway, she claimed. Girls are the ones supposed to give out chocolate.”

“Well… did you barge into the restroom and tell her your very well existent boyfriend is currently in the military and was worried the bouquet wouldn’t arrive on time, so he sent it earlier just in case? And that not a single Valentine’s Day has ever passed by without my girlfriend receiving a gift as well?”

“No.” But then a smile flashed across your lips. “I barged into the restroom and told her if she put as much effort in finding a boyfriend as she is putting in sticking her nose into other people’s business, she wouldn’t have to worry this much about a newbie’s private life.”

You heard Jaehyun burst into laughter, and it was contagious for you too. “That’s my girl.”

A silence followed that lighthearted moment which weighed down heavy on your heart again. “I miss you. And not only because of tomorrow when I need to see couples everywhere I go. But every day, I miss you.”

Ever since Jaehyun went to the military, you have been feeling so lonely. The first month was the hardest when his phone time was restricted to one hour per day only. After the boot camp, it had gotten a bit better with regular calls by the end of a day, but you had only been able to see each other once for one day ever since his enlistment.

You were planning to visit him at his base as this was the only way to at least see him regularly, but the way there was long and exhausting, so realizing it on a regular basis was also not ideal, minding the fact that you would barely have any privacy as well. And there hadn’t been an event when you could have watched his band in public yet.

When you could see each other for a bit longer? You didn’t know. His application for a holiday was still not through, and you slowly grew impatient. It was pure torture.

“I miss you too,” Jaehyun reassured gently. “But don’t worry, in the blink of an eye, we can see each other again.”

You groaned. “You make it sound like nothing, but it’s actually a lot.”

“I’m sorry there is nothing more that I can do.”

Guilt washed over you for making him feel responsible for something he didn’t have any influence on, and on top of that, it was not only Valentine’s Day, but Jaehyun’s birthday too. He probably didn’t feel much different from you, having to celebrate his special day at the base when it didn’t even fall on the one day a week he was off from duties.

So you quickly added, “Maybe, I will visit your family tomorrow after work, so we will celebrate your birthday together and eat your favorite cake, and you can only watch us doing so through a call.”

“Ah, this is torture. Do you know what I eat here daily? Cake sounds heavenly.”

“Then make sure to visit us quickly, so I can prepare every cake for you that you want.”

“Deal.”

____

It was still morning and you had only sat down at your desk for work when the receptionist approached you, right after the marketing girl had settled at the other side of the office as well.

Today was Valentine’s Day and Jaehyun’s birthday, so you felt extra gloomy, but you wanted to make sure it wouldn’t interfere with your work. You would pay his family a visit in the evening to have a little celebration with Jaehyun through a phone or video call as promised before. As this wouldn’t remain a permanent situation, you would make the best of it and give him a good celebration despite the circumstances.

“Good morning,” the receptionist greeted you and winked. “There is something waiting for you outside at the reception.”

“Oh okay, I’ll come right out!” You stood up and wondered what it could be since the mail for this day wasn’t due to be delivered yet and Jaehyun had already sent over his gift yesterday. Could it be another gift, possibly from a friend or family member?

“Two times in a row. Now, isn’t this a bit too much?”

The marketing girl couldn’t suppress her snarky comment when you passed by her. You really tried to keep quiet, but your gloominess needed some kind of outlet, she was practically asking for a counter.

“You know…” You turned to her. “If you were a bit of a nicer person, especially towards near strangers, maybe you would also have people appreciate your existence in the form of gifts or nice words. Maybe try again.”

You stomped away, her rude remark having vanished from your mind in an instant as your thoughts were occupied with the question of what could be sent to you on this special day again as you ruled out another gift from Jaehyun.

Well, as you arrived at the reception, you were definitely assured of the fact that what was awaiting you was not a gift from Jaehyun.

Rather, it was Jaehyun himself.

Standing in your company’s lobby in his full military attire, he was holding another bouquet of flowers in his hands, probably even more luscious than the previous one. A wide smile spread across his face the moment he turned around to you.

“You’re crazy!” you called out as you slowly approached him.

“You’re so beautiful,” he greeted you back as he handed the flowers over to you.

You were having a hard time keeping your composure and not jumping directly at Jaehyun out of pure happiness over your reunion.

This was still your workplace and the public, so you had to act accordingly and thus professionally. But a look into Jaehyun’s eyes, whose overjoyed gaze disappeared just for the break of a second and made way for a flash of desire dancing across his face before his gentle features returned, confirmed that he was feeling the same way as you.

You both needed to get out of here. Right now.

“So…” You started and took the flowers into your hands. “How much time do you have?”

“I only got today off and I have to be back at the base by 6pm. I already talked to your boss, you’re free to leave for today too.”

“Hmmm, for how long have you had this planned actually?” You shifted your head to the clock in the lobby. It was 8.05am. “I’ll go grab my stuff and then let’s head out.”

When you approached your office’s door, you couldn’t help but notice that a few people had gathered by the spot, and among them, though she was quick to leave upon your return, was the marketing girl. You snickered inwardly.

You said goodbye to your co-workers on your way out who couldn’t keep down teasing remarks that you quickly waved off with an embarrassed grin, and left the building together with Jaehyun.

Outside, snow was falling and the wind was ice cold, but you felt warm inside. Almost hot even.

“You gave me flowers again, even though I am the one who’s supposed to give you chocolate and gifts today,” you said with a pout, feeling guilty that you were empty-handed. How could you have known after all?

Jaehyun stood in front of you, smiling and seemingly unbothered by the circumstances. “I come home only so rarely, the least I can do is spoil my girl whenever I get the chance.”

It had been months since you had last seen him, and he had visibly changed now that you carefully examined him fully in person. His hair had remained rather short from what you could make out under the beret, but his muscles had grown, you couldn’t help but notice even under his jacket.

You wanted to admire him in his uniform a bit longer all while simultaneously longing to feel with your own bare hands how much his body had changed after months of training, and what he could do to you now with all the strength he had gained.

You gulped. One day only might not be enough after all.

“It’s not only my special day, but ours too, remember that. So we can do everything you like,” Jaehyun declared.

You said, “I like the thought that I will have you all to myself today. So I can spoil you rotten too, even without chocolate.”

The right corner of Jaehyun’s lips tilted up to a smile that was not radiating happiness as the rest of his muscles were stilling. It made him look almost sinister, even though his soft features and dimples might fool outsiders. But not you. You were very familiar with that smile of his.

He bent down to you and whispered, “And what do you want to do first to spoil me, hm?”

You reached for his hand and before you answered, you dragged him along the streets so that he couldn’t spot your flushed cheeks. “We’re going to a hotel.”

Jaehyun willingly complied with a low laugh and the words, “Now, I should come home more often.”

#jaehyun #jeong jaehyun #nct #nct 127 #jaehyun imagines #jaehyun scenarios #jaehyun x reader #jaehyun x you #nct imagines #nct scenarios #nct 127 x you #nct 127 x reader #nct 127 scenarios #nct 127 imagines #nct x reader #nct x you #requests

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v0idund3rth3v3il · 2 days ago

Text

Islam

Just an hour or so ago(subhanallah)

Prefer not to say

Technically, I drabbled in wicca but it didn't do anything for me.

Quran, Islamic speeches, and prayer.

No, I have my prayer mat and Quran, and that's really all I need for now. Inshallah I will be able to wear niqab freely.

The misogyny, racism, and homophobia. Despite Allah commanding justice and equality - there are still many ignorant people. Inshallah their hearts will soften and be more accepting.

(2:5) “It is they who are ˹truly˺ guided by their Lord, and it is they who will be successful.”

Yes, I've dealt with extensional crisis's since the age of 12 years old. Joining Islam has relieved my anxiety and worries about life and what my purpose is. Purpose was also another big thing - despite my family's kind words, I never felt at ease even with their help.

I like dhikir and the maghrib prayer.

No, I like Islam and don't intend to leave<3

No, my mother and father are atheist.

No, it can be a little lonely being one of the few muslims in my state, but it's worth it being in Islam and worshipping Allah SWT.

Unfortunately

Yes, I have witnessed before my eyes my duas(prayers) being answered subhanallah!

Religious Ask Tag

ask tags seem to have dwindled but I thought I’d swing for just one more!

Send me an ask with the numbers you’d like me to answer!

1) Which religion/spiritual path do you identify with?

2) When was the last time you prayed?

3) Have you ever doubted your faith?

4) Have you ever belonged to a different religion?

5) When do you feel closest to your deity/ies?

6) Do you have lots of religious paraphernalia?

7) If you could change one thing about your faith community, what would it be?

8) What is your favourite passage from your sacred text, if you have one?

9) Has your faith ever helped you through a crisis?

10) Do you have a favourite prayer/ritual?

11) Have you ever considered converting to another faith?

12) Were you born in a religious family?

13) Do you practise the majority faith of the place you live in?

14) Have you ever been discriminated against on the basis of your faith?

15) Have you ever had a divine experience?

#islam #muslim #allahuakbar

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mcflymemes · 2 days ago

Text

AS SAID BY ASTARION ANCUNÍN * assorted dialogue from baldur's gate 3

you are mine. no one can change that.

i wish... to drink. and be drunk.

you haven't earned the right to stare at me like that.

you could scream bloody murder out here and no one would ever know.

we should find a tavern and celebrate.

do my eyes deceive me? the gang really is all here.

i'd rather be the only dark power inside your body, if it's all the same to you.

you're cute, you know. in another life we might have been friends.

i don't hate you. because this is not you.

we just have to be vigilant. keep our wits about us.

you can try, but i will stop you.

do what you like. it's none of my concern.

i simply do not care.

we could do it, you know. we could rule the world.

i... i don't know what to say. thank you.

well that's just disgusting.

listen to me, damn it! i'm trying to save you, even if you're too stupid to see it.

believe what you want. i'm done with you.

you have no idea what i can do.

sounds like a delightful dinner plan. perhaps i'll join you.

forgiveness? you've never forgiven anything.

i don't need anyone to speak for me.

i don't owe you a damn thing.

don't worry. i'll keep watch tonight.

just don't ask me again.

is there anything else? any new and interesting ways you can waste my time?

i'll come to you tonight, when you're snugly wrapped in your bedroll and we can have a little privacy.

this time i'll make sure i'm quiet.

you're lucky i'm such an open-minded person.

why send anyone after me? i'm hardly a threat out here.

what are you waiting for? help me!

"you can do whatever you want" sounds terrifying, and it is, but there's opportunity in it, too.

i am so much more than what you made me.

hold very, very still.

i'm sorry, but could you excuse us a moment?

get out of my way. i'm in no mood to talk.

you didn't think i could do it? i'm hurt.

i appreciate your loyalty, darling, but i don't think you understand.

fair? nothing about this is fair.

i don't know who they are, but i have plenty of questions.

i'm glad to hear it.

i do believe you. i know you only did what you thought was best for me.

i just need some time to let it sink in.

you're so good to me.

safe? how can i ever be safe now?

well, hello. looking for a cuddle?

now that you're back with us, we need to have a talk.

how flattering. and disturbing.

please tell me this is important.

there's also gold, sex, revenge... quite the list, really. but failing any of those, i will always settle for shallow praise.

now just tell me i'm beautiful and we can call it a day.

i want to thank you.

you're a vision. and you're so much more than that.

this is all a game to you, isn't it?

for as long as i can remember, i've been used by others.

of course i was attracted to you. look at you, for goodness' sake!

i will forever remember what you did for me today.

that's what you've been waiting to hear, isn't it? that's what you want?

i have been waiting so long for you.

come, give yourself to me.

i'll take care of everything.

it's time to try living again.

i feel safe with you. seen.

we don't have to rush into anything tonight.

would it kill you to dispense a compliment?

looking for something?

honestly, you have no sense of fun.

i do appreciate your enthusiasm, but let's try to restrain ourselves a little.

would you like a tour? we can start with my tent, if you like.

everything was taken from me, too.

well, that could have gone better.

i don't know what you mean.

were you actually worried i was angry?

so what was it like? tell me everything.

i hope i'm not interrupting.

some day that soft heart of yours is going to be torn out of your chest.

what a party. we should do this again.

there you are. i've been waiting. waiting since the moment i set eyes on you. waiting to have you.

you've seen enough already.

i didn't want to lose control.

oh, don't be like that. not every problem has to be beaten to death, my dear.

wait! don't interrupt them!

let's not make trouble for some stranger.

my, this place is fun.

my past isn't exactly a happy story.

that was amazing.

it won't happen again. you have my word.

so many people need killing.

remember who saved you.

don't worry. i'm here.

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hanniebaeee · 12 hours ago

Text

Tied Up

Hyunjin x fem!reader

Warnings: SMUT MDNI

Genre: established relationship, fluff, smut

Summary: You ask your boyfriend to come home immediately after you read something spicy in a dark romance novel, and he's only too excited to help you.

a/n: Jinnie's 'Unfair' triggered something in me 🙏

You were curled up on your couch, wrapped in your fluffiest blanket, sipping on coffee and reading your newest obsession - a dark romance novel. It was supposed to be a casual read to pass the time while Hyunjin was busy with rehearsals.

But by chapter ten… well, let’s just say your face was burning, and it had nothing to do with the heater running. You pressed your thighs together as your eyes widened. You've never read such filth in your entire life, and now you missed your boyfriend. Way too much.

So here you were, phone in hand, thumb hovering over Hyunjin’s contact. Would he mind? Of course he wouldn't.

---

You: Hey, you busy?

---

You watched the little typing dots blink in and out before his reply appeared.

---

Hyunjin: Hey, baby! Yeah, still at practice, what’s up? Miss me?

---

Your hands shook in excitement as you typed back.

---

You: Well, yeah. That too. But also… you gotta come home. Now.

Hyunjin: What happened? Are you ok?

---

You chewed on your lip thoughtfully. How do you even explain this without sounding completely unhinged?

---

Me: Nothing, everythings fine. Just… I’ve got a request.

Hyunjin: Okay?

Me: Listen. I need you to come tie me up.

---

The three dots blinked… and blinked… and disappeared. Then they came back. Finally, a reply.

---

Hyunjin: Excuse me, what? Did I read that right?

You: Yes. You did. I need you here. Now. With something to tie me up with.

---

Another long pause.

---

Hyunjin: Tie you up?! What's happening?

You: No! I was reading this book, and… look, I’ll explain everything when you get here, just please, please come home right now.

Hyunjin: Baby, I'm so confused.

You: I'm giving you a chance to kidnap me and tie me up and…

Hyunjin: 😳

---

You couldn't help but laugh at that. You could just imagine his sweet face in all that confusion.

---

Me: Pretty please???

---

Another moment of silence, and then…

---

Hyunjin: So… I’m supposed to be like this hot, dark, mysterious kidnapper and just… do whatever I want with you?

Me: Exactly.

Hyunjin: Oh 👀

Hyunjin: I mean… okay, but this is kinda new territory. Let me… strategize.

---

You raised an eyebrow. Strategize?

---

Me: Strategize? What are you, plotting world domination?

Hyunjin: Look, if you’re asking me to show up and just go full mystery man, I have to commit, okay? This requires preparation.

Me: So… how long is this prep going to take?

Hyunjin: Give me an hour.

You had absolutely no idea what he was talking about, but his commitment to the role was kind of endearing, and you decided to trust the process.

An hour later, you heard the faint sound of a key in the lock, and your heart did a little flip. You tried to compose yourself on the couch and waited as he walked in.

When you looked up, you were not disappointed. There he stood in his black jeans and a leather jacket, and dark sunglasses - looking absolutely hot. Holding a silk tie in hand. Oh.

You burst out laughing.

“Oh, you’re laughing now?” He smirked, raising an eyebrow. “I thought you wanted to be kidnapped?”

“Yes I did? But…” You covered your mouth with your hand as you laughed. “Oh my God.”

“Hey, you wanted ‘dark and mysterious’ -” he stepped toward you, dropping his sunglasses down a notch, “and I… delivered.”

Biting back your laughter, you pulled him closer by his collar. “So… are you going to tie me up, or just… stand there and look pretty?”

“Oh, I’m tying you up, don’t you worry.” He leaned in close, his voice low. “Only problem is… I’m not sure I know how.”

You blinked up at him, surprised by his sudden shift from confidence to innocence.

“You don’t know how to…?”

“I mean, I can figure it out,” he said quickly, looking down at the tie. “I did watch a tutorial… briefly…”

You were laughing again, but this time you couldn’t resist wrapping your arms around him and pressing a kiss to the corner of his mouth.

“You’re so adorable.” you mumbled.

“Hey! I can be dark and mysterious! I’m literally here to kidnap you, aren’t I?”

“Then what are you waiting for?” you whispered, challenging him.

His eyes narrowed, and with an unexpected quickness, he swooped down, swept you off the couch, and carried you into the bedroom, kicking the door shut. He tossed you onto the bed and pulled out the silk tie, holding it up triumphantly.

“Alright,” he said, climbing over you, grinning. “Where do we begin?”

Your grin widened, and you nodded toward the bedpost. “Over there.”

A little clumsily, he tied your wrist to the bedpost, muttering to himself as he made sure it was secure. When he was done, he gave your wrist a gentle tug.

“How does that feel?”

You tugged against it, pretending to be trapped. “Oh no, what am I going to do?”

He chuckled, leaning down to brush his lips against yours. “Well, you’re going to have to stay here, I’m afraid. Completely at my mercy.”

You could barely keep a straight face, but he was so ridiculously, heart-meltingly sincere in his little roleplay.

“What are you going to do to me?” you whispered, batting your eyes.

Hyunjin cocked his head, trying to look diabolical.

“First, I’ll kiss you. And then… hmm…” His eyes met yours, and slipped down tk your lips. You were biting your bottom lip, gazing at him.

“Uh…”

You laughed, pulling him down with your free hand, until his forehead rested on yours. “How about we start with the kiss, and see where it goes?"

His eyes sparkled with mischief, and he leaned in, his lips brushing against yours softly. The world faded as he kissed you slowly, his tongue slipping into your mouth as he deepened the kiss.

His hands found their way to your face, cupping your cheeks, as you wrapped your legs around his waist.

The whole "kidnapper" act dissolved into giggles as you helped him out of his jacket.

Hyunjin claimed your lips again in a fierce kiss. His tongue invaded your mouth, demanding and rough leaving you breathless. Breaking the kiss, Hyunjin trailed hot, open-mouthed kisses down your neck, his hands roaming freely over your body.

He cupped your breasts through the thin fabric of your t-shirt, his thumbs teasing your hardened nipples. You arched into his touch, a soft moan escaping your lips.

"You like that, don't you, baby?" Hyunjin whispered, his breath hot against your skin. "You like it when I touch you like this."

"Y-yes," you managed to whisper, your voice trembling. "I love it..."

Hyunjin pulled away, his eyes dark with passion.

With gentle yet firm hands, he lifted the t-shirt over your head, his eyes taking in your breasts, your nipples pebbled with desire.

Leaning forward, he took one of your nipples into his mouth, sucking gently at first, then increasing the pressure. Your breath hitched as pleasure radiated through your body. Hyunjin's tongue teased and flicked, driving you absolutely insane. He switched to the other breast, lavishing it with the same attention

As his fingers trailed lower, into your shorts, and your breath quickened. You could feel his touch getting closer to your aching core, your body throbbing with anticipation.

Hyunjin’s eyes locked with yours as his fingers delved into the wetness between your thighs, earning a soft cry from your lips.

"You're so wet, baby," he murmured, his voice thick with need. "I can't wait to feel you around me."

He smirked as he slid a finger inside you and your body trembled with the pleasure of his touch. He added another finger, stretching you, filling you, as his thumb found you clit.

Your hips bucked against his hand, and you tried to free your tied up hand because you needed to touch him. But Hyunjin tsk-tsked, shaking his head gently.

“Be a good girl now, you don't want me to punish you, do you?”

Ok. Now you were so utterly shocked. There was no smile on his face. Just a deep dark look - his pupils blown and his lips swollen from the kiss. You swallowed nervously, but moaned almost involuntarily as his fingers moved faster inside you, your body quickly approaching a climax.

"Jinnie, I'm close," you panted, your voice laced with desperation. "Please, don't stop."

Hyunjin quickened his pace, his fingers moving in and out of you, his thumb rubbing your clit in circles. Your body tensed, every muscle taut as you teetered on the edge of release. With one final stroke, your body quaked as your orgasm hit you.

"Hyunjin!" you cried out, your body convulsing as waves of pleasure washed over you. He watched in silence as your eyes shut tightly, your soft walls throbbing around his fingers, still buried deep within you.

“Ready for more, princess?” His voice was low and menacing.

You opened your eyes, and whispered breathlessly, "More?"

"Much more," he promised, brushing the tip of his nose against yours. "But first, I want to taste you."

He gently pulled your shorts and panties down, before pushing your thighs apart, exposing your glistening folds. Your heart raced as you watched him lower his head, his breath hot against your sensitive skin. He kissed your inner thighs, his lips moving slowly towards your aching core.

When his tongue finally made contact with your swollen clit, you gasped, your body arching off the bed. Hyunjin lapped at you, his tongue teasing and flicking, sending sparks of pleasure through your body. HUs tongue slipped through your folds as he tasted you, and his fingers continued to stroke and tease your opening.

Your free hand was on his head, stroking the short strands of his hair. You were on the edge again, teetering towards another climax, when Hyunjin suddenly stopped.

"Please, Jinnie," you begged, your voice hoarse.

Hyunjin smiled against your skin, and said, "I'm not done with you yet, angel. I want to feel you cum on my dick.”

With that, he rose to his knees. You watched him strip, his eyes never leaving yours. He positioned himself between your thighs, his length hovering at your entrance. With one smooth thrust, he filled you up completely. You let out a whimper, your hand gripping his shoulder tightly.

You were so tight around him, your inner walls gripping his shaft as he began to move. Hyunjin set a slow pace, his eyes never leaving your face as he watched your reaction to his every stroke. Your breath came in gasps, your eyes fluttering shut as you savored the feeling of being filled by him.

"Open your eyes, baby," he commanded, his voice sharp enough to make you obey. "Look at me while I fuck you."

Your eyes met his as you felt him thrust deeper, hitting that sweet spot within you. Your hand grasped his shoulder tightly, as he pounded into you harder.

"I'm gonna cum, baby," Hyunjin growled, his jaw clenched as he fought for control. "I want you to let go now."

Your body felt like it's every nerve ending was alive with pleasure. And your orgasm was building, an intense pressure coiling deep within you.

You nodded, a soft whine leaving your lips, and Hyunjin thrust into you one last time, his body shuddering as he spilled inside you with a loud groan. You cried out, your climax crashing over you like a tidal wave.

You both lay entangled, hearts racing and bodies glistening with sweat. Hyunjin grinned down at you, his eyes filled with love and mischief.

"So, how did I do?" He asked, propping himself up on one elbow. “Dark enough?”

“You were okay,” You breathed, and Hyunjin raised an eyebrow at you.

“Only okay, huh,”

He said, slowly pulling your free hand up and trying to tie it to the bedpost.

“Jinnie what-”

“Shush. You asked for it. I don't do okay. So let's work on it, yeah?”

You asked for it, didn't you?

Divider: @saradika-graphics

Tags: @moonchild9350 @velvetmoonlght @eastjonowhere @pixie-felix @sailor--sun @chancloud8 @captainchrisstan @hansmic @emilyywhyy @inlovewithstraykids @my-neurodivergent-world @nightmarenyxx

#skz #stray kids #hyunjin x reader #hyunjin x y/n #hyunjin x you #hyunjin fluff #hyunjin smut #hyunjinnie #stray kids x reader #stray kids fluff #stray kids smut #skz x reader #skz fluff #skz smut

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batboysanonymous · 11 hours ago

Text

Bird in a Cage

Azriel x Reader

Summary: Grief turned Y/N into a ghost of herself, drowning in the unbearable silence of a bond that should have shattered—unaware that her mate still breathed, just beyond her reach.

Based on the song: BLUE by Billie Eilish

───────────────────────────────

Mm, mm, mm I try to live in black and white, but I'm so blue I'd like to mean it when I say I'm over you But that's still not true (blue) And I'm still so blue, oh

The City of Starlight was quieter without him.

The kind of silence that did not soothe but suffocated. Velaris had always been a place of light, a sanctuary carved from the darkness, but now, it was a tomb.

Y/N barely recognized herself in the mirror anymore. Where her eyes had once shimmered with life, they were dull now, hollowed by grief. Her skin had paled, lips always cracked from the cold air she no longer cared to shield herself from. Even the bond—her soul’s tether to Azriel—was silent.

It should have broken the moment he died. Should have shattered inside her like glass.

But it hadn’t.

And she hated that it hadn’t.

A cruel, empty thing.

She thought maybe she had imagined it sometimes—the way her chest ached like something tethered her still. But that was just grief, wasn’t it? The way her mind refused to let him go, the way her soul still searched for him, as if refusing to accept the truth.

Her mate. Her husband. Her best friend. Gone.

She curled further into the window seat, a blanket draped over her shoulders, though it did nothing to warm her. Beyond the glass, Velaris glittered under the night sky, so full of life, of movement.

It was unbearable.

“Y/N.”

Rhysand’s voice was gentle, but she did not turn to look at him.

She knew how he saw her. Knew what he was thinking.

That she was slipping away. That she had already slipped too far.

“I brought you dinner.”

She swallowed, staring at the plate that appeared on the small table beside her.

It was her favorite meal. And she had no appetite.

She hadn’t for weeks.

“Eat,” Rhys pressed, lowering himself onto the armchair across from her.

She didn’t.

He sighed.

I thought we were the same (I thought we were the same) Birds of a feather (birds of a feather), now I'm ashamed

“Feyre is worried about you,” he said carefully. “We all are.”

She clenched her jaw.

“Y/N…”

“There’s nothing to talk about.”

A beat of silence.

Then, quietly—“The bond hasn’t broken.”

She stiffened.

Her hands curled into the fabric of the blanket, her nails biting into her palm.

“I don’t know why,” she admitted after a long moment, voice hoarse. “I should have—felt it. When he—”

She couldn’t say it.

Rhys was silent.

She turned, meeting his violet eyes for the first time in days. There was something there—something off.

Something withholding.

“… What?” she rasped.

Rhysand shook his head. “Nothing.”

In the back of my mind, I'm still overseas A bird in a cage, thought you were made for me

She wasn’t sure why, but her stomach twisted.

But she let it go.

She had no more energy to fight.

The dream came again that night.

Azriel, standing just beyond the shadows, his hazel eyes locked onto hers.

He never spoke.

Never moved.

Just watched.

And she—she always ran toward him. Always reached for him.

But the moment her fingers brushed his, he would disappear.

Vanishing into smoke.

She woke with a start, chest heaving. The bond—it was there. She could feel it, feel him, but it was distant, muted—like something was blocking it.

Her heart slammed against her ribs.

No.

No, she was imagining it.

This was what grief did.

It twisted things, made you believe in impossibilities.

Azriel was dead.

The bond hadn’t broken, and she would never know why.

You were born bluer than a butterfly Beautiful and so deprived of oxygen Colder than your father's eyes He never learned to sympathize with anyone

Rhys was tense when she found him the next morning.

Cassian and Feyre had just left, leaving the two of them alone in the townhouse.

“You’re hiding something.”

It wasn’t a question.

Rhys froze. “Y/N—”

“You’re hiding something.” Her voice wavered, her hands trembling as she stepped toward him. “I—why do I still feel the bond?”

His throat bobbed. “Y/N, I—”

Tell me he’s dead, she wanted to beg.

Tell me I’m wrong.

Tell me I’m losing my mind.

But her brother only stared at her, guilt heavy in his gaze.

Something in her splintered.

Her breath came shallow, sharp.

“… No.”

Rhys’ lips parted, his expression softening. “It’s not what you think—”

“He’s alive?” Her voice broke on the last word.

The walls closed in.

Azriel—her mate, her heart—was alive.

And Rhys had kept it from her.

“I had to,” he said, desperation creeping into his voice. “Y/N, I had to—”

But she was already moving, already running, because she couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think.

Couldn’t understand.

Why?

Why had he lied?

Why had he let her suffer, let her mourn?

Why had he let her break?

Her body was shaking, but she barely registered it.

Azriel was alive.

She had spent weeks drowning in grief, but he was alive.

And Rhys—her brother, the one person she had always trusted—had let her believe otherwise.

I don't blame you But I can't change you Don't hate you But we can't save you

A sob tore from her throat, her knees hitting the floor of the garden.

She pressed a hand to her chest, feeling the pull of the bond—really feeling it for the first time.

It was there. It had always been there.

Distant. Shielded.

Hidden from her.

Her mate.

Her mate was alive.

And she had been drowning in the lie that he wasn’t.

She gasped, head tipping back toward the sky, her entire body trembling with rage, with grief, with hope.

Because she had thought she would never feel him again.

But he was alive.

And she would bring him home.

⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆

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dolche-tejada · 16 hours ago

Text

"I don't care about the rest of your lack of comprehension in the medium but don't disrespect DEKU!"

What lack of comprehension ( I spent my time debunking the pile of crap you're writing in my mentions, you haven't wrote a single relevant argument so far.

As for Deku, I don't see why I should respect this fictional character. He's plain as hell, people constantly glaze him for his amazing traits when his showings struggle to keep up, he has no interesting flaws to nuance him as a character and is just a mouthpiece for the shitty themes of this manga, his character arc mostly consists in him learning to use his powers (how fascinating really...) and he utterly failed his main goal at the end out of sheer incompetence.

"wtf!! be mad cus your favourite villain died!!! but don't you dare accuse Deku of being lazy!"

Why ? Because you don't have any solid counter-argument to refute the fact that he stayed on his ass for 8 years without training to keep being a hero ? And that he needed Bakugo to offer him an easy solution on a plate to do something ?

Or is it because you're salty that Deku is indeed so incompetent at being a hero that he didn't even bother thinking about a plan to save Tomura when it was his main goal, and this despite having weeks ahead to think about it ?

Either way, cope harder pal.

"Lazy my foot bro. Bye bro. You spitting nothing actually."

First time someone trash one of your favs ? Don't worry it will be okay, just take a seat and some deep breaths.

"All the long paragraphs just took proof you lack of respect to the author"

Indeed I don't respect Horikoshi as a writer... And so ?

"and the rest of it just to prove you're just a person who spewing nothing."

He said after failing to prove me wrong even once.

"After losing One For All in the My Hero Academia storyline, Deku faces significant challenges."

Source : Trust me bro

"His journey without his quirk is explored in the series, particularly highlighting his determination and ingenuity in adapting to his new circumstances."

What "new circumstances" are you even babbling about, he literally came back to what he was at the start of the story and even said it isn't anything new for him to be quirkless again.

"They demonstrate that strategy, training, and personal growth are crucial. However, Deku's case is unique because his identity and journey have been so closely tied to One For All"

And in practice, how does being a former OFA user could stop Deku to work out to become a fighter like Shinso, Knuckleduster or Nighteye ? Go ahead, I'm curious.

"which fundamentally shifts his path when he loses it."

Lmao seriously ? That's the best you came up with to hide the fact that Deku never even tried to work out to still be a hero ?

Cause without the bs, you're basically saying : B-B-But it must have been really hard for him to lose a power he only had for not even 1/6 of his life, that's why he couldn't learn martial arts for some reason :'(

What a solid argument, I can't argue with that indeed.

"None of them loses quirk and they're birth with the quirk."

And so ? Besides you know that Knuckleduster also used to have a quirk before AFO stole it from him ? Well guess what : It didn't stop him from learning how to fight and being a quirkless vigilante so nope, you're just looking for excuses.

"Deku also train as crazy as them."

To learn how to use his quirks, not to compensate being a regular human like Stein or Nighteye does.

"Wtf bro, use your brain."

Funny you talk about brain, I was precisely about to ask you if you're having a stroke right now ? Because I can't decently believe anyone could write so much shit in a row without suffering from brain damage.

"Deku's struggle post-losing his quirk can be interpreted more as a narrative choice by the author"

Even if it was the case, that doesn't make Deku any less of a lazy ass bum. He lost OFA during the ellipse and immediately gave up on being a hero, until Bakugo came up with a solution Deku wouldn't have waited for if he was nearly as resilient and well-written as you think he is.

"Kohei Horikoshi, to explore themes of identity, resilience, and the essence of what makes a hero"

No argument here either, just random bs to hide the fact that you don't know how to refute my point.

"It's true that Deku relies on technology, but this can also be viewed as a form of adaptation and teamwork, core values in the manga. Didn't Tony Stark relied on his tech as well? What makes a hero? A quirk. No. A sense to help another person, to protect."

Lmao don't even try. Tony doesn't just sit on his ass and stop being a hero when he doesn't have his armor around him, whether in the comics or the movies (Iron-Man 3 is literally about that). It's even one of his most famous quotes in the MCU : "If you're nothing without this suit, then you shouldn't have it"

Well Deku at the end is nothing without his suit/OFA. It's not an opinion, it's not arguable. It's factual. He doesn't just rely on technology, he's entirely dependent of it. Without his suit, he just stand there without doing anything for years while looking passively at his friends living his dream.

"The eight-year time skip where Deku waits for technology to compensate for his lack of a quirk might be critiqued as a plot device to advance other stories or to give Deku a new form of heroism."

Except he does exactly the same thing as before but with an high-tech suit. If Deku really intended to seek for a new form of heroism, he would have declined the suit so no, "he seeks a new form of heroism" my ass.

"It's not necessarily about laziness but about finding a new way to be a hero when the conventional methods are no longer available to him."

Which is outright false as evidenced in my precedent point, just above.

"This development allows for exploration of his character beyond his physical abilities."

Is this development with us in the room ?

"Deku's growth in different aspects, like leadership"

He never showed at any point leadership skills, only teamwork at best but m'kay.

"strategy, and inspiration, rather than just physical prowess."

Inspiration isn't a hero skill. As for strategy, he didn't have any growth in this aspect either since again, he totally gave up being a hero for 8 years straight.

"In summary, while your addled and rude aspect of critique might view Deku's reliance on external help as a sign of laziness, it can also be seen as part of his character development arc"

On one side actual facts, on the other side your headcanons. Damn, I wonder which one carries more weight ?

"showcasing his adaptability, the importance of teamwork, and the broader message that heroism transcends physical power."

Watch out, you still have some bit left at the corner of your mouth.

"The series uses this plot to explore different facets of heroism, which is a central theme in mha."

The story didn't explore crap. Again at the moment Deku lost his quirk, he just stop doing shit for almost a decade despite having options to still be a hero. All the meatriding and headcanons in the world won't change the fact that Deku is fucking lazy and didn't grow up since Chapter 1 where here again, he never even tried to work out to compensate being quirkless and improve his chances to be admitted at UA.

"I'm done with MHA fans that only read and crop panel for their benefits and play the narrative to fit their imagination."

"Don't you never actually comprehend the material in your hands?"

Try at least to score one relevant argument before saying remarks like that, it's hard to take you seriously otherwise.

Well that was shit. Now sorry but if your next reply is as idiotic and dishonest as the previous ones, I will likely just block you. Given how low you set the bar, I won't waste more time and energy refuting your delusions.

You know, I think this ending would have been slightly less of a fucking disappointment if the heroes hadn't been so unfairly favored by Horikoshi compared to the villains. I mean, seriously

Deku destroys every bone in his body multiple times throughout the story and is warned that if he continues, he'll permanently lose the use of his limbs ? Everything's fine, his body's just got used to being reduced to a bloody pulp somehow so there's no consequences for him. In fact even when he literally loses his arms to Shigaraki, he gets them back two minutes later thanks to Eri because guess what ? Her horn still works even when cut off from her body. How convenient.

Gran Torino gets his ribcage obliterated by Shigaraki ? Don't worry guys, he'll survive that despite his old age and injuries, and this to have no particular role in the plot afterwards.

Bakugo dies heroically trying to buy time before Deku arrives ? Lmao, did you really believe it ?? No of course not, Edgeshot just uses his last-minute Deus Ex Machina to save his life at the cost of his own and- Oops nope he's fine too, my bad !

Hawks murders a criminal fleeing for his life in cold-blood ? The best Hori has to offer is him completely free and in charge of the HSPC.

And no, losing his quirk isn't a real consequence for him because not only it literally played a major part in saving the world with Vestige!Hawks raising an insurrection among AFO's quirks, but also because his quirk has always been the element through which people exploited him.

Endeavor abused his family for years and completely destroyed his eldest son ? No jail time and no media backlash for that, the only blame he received was due to the heroes' failure to stop the League during the Raid Arc.

And don't even get me started on this bs about facing hell or whatever for what he's done : He's literally free and wealthy ; he has Rei, Fuyumi, Shoto, his sidekicks and Hawks on his side ; and all the difficulties he's apparently going to suffer are off-screened.

Deku had to sacrifice OFA and his future hero career to save the world ? Guess what, Bakugo invested all his time and money to make him an Iron-Man suit and now he can still be a hero with everyone else.

There are plenty more examples of this but I think you get the idea. Now let's take a look at the villains' ending :

Toya is now a piece of charcoal kept artificially alive for the few years he has left, unable to move a finger, and whose few minutes a day during which he can stay awake will be spent talking to his father who abused him as a child.

Toga, a literal teenager, killed herself to save Ochako and because she knew it's still better than rotting at Tartarus her whole life.

And not only did she die but she did by bleding to death. Let me repeat for those who have trouble grasping what I've just said : In a manga where the heroes can survive having their heart blown to bits, being impaled Kakyoin-style or smashed against buildings like a fly on a windshield, one of the main antagonists died of a fucking hemorrhage…

As for Shigaraki, after learning that his very birth and all the tragedies of his life have been orchestrated by AFO, after all this development and narrative promises about him being saved in the end... Deku just kills him.

Because despite all his speeches about saving him, it seems like the best our MC could do was beating him both physically and mentally until he crumbles to dust…

Compress on his side is apparently locked up for life and kept alive by machines too.

A begging Kurogiri tried in a desperate attempt to save Shigaraki, only to be unceremoniously blown up by Bakugo and dying off-screen without anyone giving a shit, including Aizawa and Mic.

And Spinner will now spend the rest of his life struggling with the extra quirks inside him that affect his body and mind, while having to cope with the thought that his boyfriend best friend and companions have either died alone or are locked away for life in horrifying circumstances.

Clearly not the same as with the heroes...

Now don't get me wrong, even if they suffered just as much from the consequences of their actions or the plot as the League, this ending would still be a disaster in terms of writing but AT LEAST it wouldn't reek that much of hypocrisy.

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axetivev · 1 day ago

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🌹 Love of My Life...

~ Summary : Jason and Y/N have been dating for 3 years. Others might say it's rushed. But Jason has other plans on their date other than being a simple "Valentine's".

~ Warnings/Genre : Fluff! (No spoilers for you~!)

~ Words : 749

~ A/N : This is the first fic for the Valentine's special! I forget if I've mentioned it. But hey, Jason fans—nations. Enjoy this fic!! And also. Happy Valentines day!!

~ Pairing : Jason Todd x Male!Reader.

Y/N, a male who was known to be outgoing, maybe a little now and then he absolutely despise talking with people and easily anxious. But hey, he’s still a great guy! Unlike his… boyfriend, his boyfriend of 3 years. Jason Todd who never enjoy talking with people, it irritats him if someone looked at him—his old visible wounds showing thanks to his traumatizing past. The way people would look at him with pity annoys the living hell out of him.

But Y/N isn’t that type, he was rather understanding. He wouldn’t and never forced Jason to do something he hates. And Jason knew that everything was alright if Y/N was around, and he would hold his hand like he was a fragile being, loving Y/N with everything he has. Don’t forget to mention the fact that Jason loved to spoil his lover.

Y/N could just laying on bed, in Jason’s apartment. Scrolling through his phone to find a book. Marking it as favorite and the next morning? Boom! The book was right in front of his house when he didn’t came to Jason’s place. He simply wanted to spoil him if he had the money.

Even one time, on Valentine’s day, Friday. The couple went to an arcade. Filled by endless machines of toys and some of the visitors gasping seeing Jason, the second adoptive child of Bruce Wayne who randomly came into an arcade with a red hoodie and army colored pants. While Y/N, his boyfriend, wearing a white shirt, gray pants and some accessories of course Jason brought for him. And their height difference is quite surprising side by side, but to those aside. Both men were having fun playing some games. Even getting two huge bear plushies, one with black hair with a streak of white while the other is just Y/N’s hair color. They’ll walk together around the mall while again, people looking at them. Jason held the teddies even after Y/N offered to carry them. This sight obviously made Y/N worried.

“I don’t want you to carry them… people might thought I’m a gold digger!” Y/N exclaimed with his voice barely a whisper. Looking at Jason who just smirked.

“Oh c’mon babe, out of everything you worried about that? You’re such an overthinker, my handsomely cute overthinker.” Jason teased, which made Y/N blushed, but before he could continue. Jason added. “How about dinner? It’s on me.”

At the end, they were eating in a fancy restaurant. Seriously! This man needs to stop, but who would? His family already told him to but it. It didn’t worked, never worked actually. He would literally use the whole universe’s money to spoil his boyfriend, honestly. He doesn’t care.

“Ah, babe… I have a surprise for you.” Jason broke the silence between them with a smirk, oh boy. Y/N could feel something could go wrong.

“And what would it be?” He asked, pausing cutting his steak mid-air, he raised an eyebrow with suspicion. But before a word came out, Jason pushed a small red box to the table. Y/N heart stopped for a split second.

With trembling hands, Y/N slowly opened the box, his face immediately flushed red. Not from embarrassment or his anxiety, he covered his face while the diamond on the ring shined brightly. Blinding his eyes from years of love.

“Y’know, people said Valentine’s day is a special day for love. So; would you marry me, Y/N L/N?” Jason proposed.

Y/N swallowed a lump of his throat, peaking between his fingers, he said a silent—yes. Thought Jason could hear it. Why not tease him?

“What’s that? C’mon darling. Say it louder~”

“You damn bastard… I said yes!!”

Well, since Jason booked the restaurant exclusively for them two, the staff from the distance cried while quietly clapping their hands, Jason rose from his seat. Placing his hand on the back of Y/N head, of course he hesitated for a moment, but soon stood up. Jason then captured his lips to a deep kiss, while his arm around the other male’s waist. Refusing to let go of the kiss. It felt… magical and intimate. Very, honestly. Even after the many moments they have kissed, But eventually, their lips parted, Jason rest his head against Y/N’s forehead, his face slightly flushed while Y/N is basically red as an tomato.

“I love you so much, Y/N Todd.”

“I…I love you too, Todd.”

And the night after the date? Is just filled by endless love making inside of Jason’s apartment.

#jason todd #jason todd x male reader #dcu #dcu x reader #male reader #x male reader #red hood #red hood x reader #red hood x male reader

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chuellas · 2 days ago

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Initiation | I is for Intimacy

⤷ Ft. Nakahara Chuuya

V. A. L. E. N. T. I. N. E.

Warnings | Fem!Reader, N.SFW, 18+ only, use of the names “Doll” and “Baby”, physical and emotional intimacy, oral (Reader rec), fingering, unprotected sex, WC: 2.2k

A/N | This one is a lot tamer than the rest and once again I got wayyyyy too carried away but can you blame me? My baby deserves the world 😔

His hands tremble slightly as you both reach your apartment building’s entrance. The two of you have been dating for about 3 months now and Chuuya has held off on being physically intimate with you up until now. But he could tell your patience has been waning and tonight was your tipping point. You’ve been hinting to him all night that you want him to follow you up to your apartment. The extra touches that linger just a little longer than usual, the longing gaze at any part of him you find attractive, which apparently is every inch of him.

You fiddle with your fingers and keys, watching them before steeling yourself and inviting him. “Y’know, it’s still pretty early…Why don’t you come up? We could have a cup of tea or a glass of wine and watch a movie?”

Your eyes are filled with so much hope, how is Chuuya supposed to say no to that?

He doesn’t of course, as a matter of fact he’s quick to accept your offer and follows you anxiously to your apartment. The Port Mafia executive couldn’t figure out why he was so nervous. He’s slept with plenty of people before this. He’d even goes as far as to say he’s skilled in this subject, never having left a partner dissatisfied.

So why are you different?

Realistically Chuuya knows why but he doesn’t want to admit it to himself because if he does that then it means all of this is actually real. It would mean he cares for you far beyond anyone he’s cared for previously. So he’s avoided the subject with you altogether, letting himself stew in denial.

He’d be lying if he said he wasn’t also incredibly excited. It’s depraved, the amount of times Chuuya has fucked his hand to the thought of you, playing the little voice memos you like to send him every once in a while when you’re at work and typing takes too long. He always comes at the sound of your fluttery giggle, the sound casting a spell over his body every time without fail.

He wonders briefly, what the real thing will do to him when he’s nestled inside of you.

The ginger can feel himself getting worked up just at the thought of it. He needs to calm himself down. The two of you just got to your apartment. You let him into your home and he’s immediately greeted by a small cat that can’t be more than 6 months old. He’s never been too keen on cat’s but the little ball of fur takes to him immediately and you let out an incredulous laugh.

“She usually hides when I have company, you must be really good with animals.” You crouch down and hold your finger out for the kitten to sniff, just as expected she does so and rubs herself against your hand, clearly recognizing you as her owner. “This is Rika. She may not look it, but this little girl is feisty. She started out as a foster but I fell in love with her and couldn’t fathom the thought of life without her anymore. Sorry, I should have asked if you were allergic before bringing you up…”

Chuuya smiles fondly at you and the small creature, crouching down and mimicking your actions to gain the kitten's trust. “Nah, don’t worry, Doll. I’m not allergic, just- Never been the biggest fan of these guys. She’s cute though, just like her owner.”

You let out a groan and fall onto your butt, knees still bent, to make yourself comfortable on the floor. Rika starts at the movement but once she realizes that it was just you, she continues to headbutt Chuuya and even starts to purr. His attention is still on you despite the little furballs attempts to get him to pet her.

“That was so cheesy.” You’re covering your face with your hands and peek through them to look at Rika, then back up at the ginger. “...but, I suppose, she’s quite fond of you…just like her owner.”

Chuuya lets out a chuckle of his own because, yeah, that definitely sounded awfully cheesy now that he heard you say it. Yet, it still calmed his previous nerves. The Port Mafia executive stands up and offers his hands for help. You take them with an appreciative smile and he hoists you up. He’s aware that he used far too much force than he needed to but it’s entirely on purpose. You stumble into him and he’s ready to steady you, grip firmly set on your hips to hold you against him.

His lids droop down to look at you through his lashes and the air in your apartment thickens. Your lips part, Chuuya thinks you were going to say something, but he doesn’t give you time as he dips his head down and steals a kiss from you. Then another.

And another.

He continues to kiss you until you both find yourselves stumbling almost blindly into your room. You toe the door shut and start ridding Chuuya of his clothes with trembling hands. You’re nervous too, somehow that makes the ginger just a little more confident and he aids you in taking off his jacket and lifting his shirt over his head. He watches your reaction closely, the way your chest quickens with your breath, the way your pupils dilate in excitement, and most of all the way your face flushes in the prettiest way.

Chuuya is in trouble. Normally his interactions like this are only filled with desire and pleasure. Something only transactional or to itch a certain scratch. That’s it. But this is clearly different.

The ability user wants to take his time with you, wants you to feel good. He wants to touch and kiss every surface of your skin. Chuuya wants to mold your insides to only take him, to remember the shape of only his cock.

You're the most dangerous person Chuuya has ever encountered and you don’t even know it.

Chuuya makes good on his desires, slowly and carefully peeling your clothes away, making sure to kiss every bit of new skin being exposed. You aren’t as patient but you have no control over what he does right now. The ginger had a plan and you weren’t going to deter him from it.

When the executive gets you down to your underwear, he makes work of your bra first, expertly unclasping your bra with the snap of his fingers. You let out a pained whine, clearly enjoying just how easy it was for him to take off the usually tricky garment. He wastes no time in cupping your breasts in his now ungloved hands and kneading gently at the plush skin. His fingers run over your nipple and you let out a broken gasp.

A grin stretches at his lips, he can’t help it, pleased with the reactions he’s drawing out of you when he hasn’t even come close to touching you how he’d like to.

The ginger drags his hands down your abdomen at an agonizingly slow pace and you squirm impatiently in his hold. “Chuuya…Please, just- oh my god- just fuck me already.”

Your breath catches in your throat when Chuuya flips you around and has your back crashing into his chest and he dips his head to leave a trail of kisses down your neck.

“Gotta be patient f’me, Doll. I gotta make sure you’re ready to take me. Can’t have you uncomfortable, now, can we?” Your head falls onto his shoulder as you let out another whine.

You’re walked to the edge of your bed before you’re being flipped back around and pushed onto it, your legs hanging off the end. Chuuya kneels and pushes your legs together so he can guide them to one side of his head to slip your underwear off with ease. The ginger pries your legs apart once more and settles your legs on each of his shoulders.

When you’re finally fully exposed, slick cunt practically drooling for Chuuya, he lets out a groan. He has a physical reaction to the sight of you, his cock jumping in his very tight pants. If you would let him, he thinks he would be content with drowning in your pretty glistening cunt.

You reach for the ginger’s hair and let out another whine. “Chuuya…”

“Fuck, Baby. You been hiding this pretty little thing from me this entire time? A damn shame I’ve let this go to waste till now.” He doesn’t let you respond, diving right in and helping himself to your taste.

With expert precision Chuuya finds your clit with one swipe of his tongue up your folds. He’s quick to attach himself to the sensitive bud and starts sucking on you and then releasing, creating a delicious rhythm with his mouth. You grip at his hair with trembling fingers. It’s cute, really, how worked up you’re getting. The executive has a sneaking feeling you’ve never had someone who actually knows what they’re doing eat you out like this before.

As if you could read his mind you gasp out, “How- shit- how are you s-so good at that? It feels s’good…”

The ginger knows better than to deem that with an actual response, so instead he brings a hand up to your entrance and coats his middle finger in your slick before inserting it and immediately pumping it in and out of you. It happens fast. You pant out his name and twist your body as you try to almost crawl away from the pleasure building up in your stomach. Chuuya doesn’t let you, of course. He makes sure to bring you flying off the edge. You cum without warning and the sounds of Chuuya drinking you up bounces off the walls.

You twitch from the oversensitivity and subconsciously push at Chuuya's head. He gets the hint and pulls away. His face is a mess, lips, cheeks and chin glistening with your juices. What's worse is he licks it all off like a parched man, not satiated until he’s licked all of it off.

Chuuya finally pulls down his pants and climbs over you, dragging you up all the way onto the bed. He takes another moment to admire your lucid state. Body sheen with a small layer of sweat, hair splayed around you in a halo, chest flushed and heaving from your pants. You’re more beautiful than he could ever have tried to imagine. Whatever Chuuya had previously pictured, was put to shame tenfold with you here finally bare right in front of him.

He gingerly strokes some hair stuck to your face out of the way and lets his finger linger, traveling down the outline of your face. “Think you have one more in you, Doll?”

Chuuya doesn’t think he’s ever had to ask that question before. His usual partners are always selfish, having no problem asking for what they want. You on the other hand? You were far too soft, too kind to ever ask for more when this is your first time getting into bed with him.

Your eyes close momentarily and he watches your intently. Your eyelashes flutter as you lean into his hand that’s now cupping your face tenderly. When you open your eyes to look up at him through your lashes Chuuya swear he almost cums right then and there. How the hell is he supposed to survive the night with you when you look so stunning underneath him like this?

“Yeah. I want you, Chuuya.” You’re killing him—you really will be the death of him he swears, no dramatics, it’s simply factual.

He lets out a strained chuckle. “Okay, you got me, all of me.”

Chuuya leans closer into you and rests his forehead on yours before guiding his tip to your entrance. He swipes himself through your folds a few times, making sure he’s wet enough to slip into you easily before finally sinking into you. Your eyes screw shut and your arms fly to his back, desperately looking for something to slutch onto as he stretches you so deliciously. Your mouth drops open but no noise falls out.

Instead of letting himself get overwhelmed by how velvety and warm and inviting your walls are, Chuuya distracts himself by crashing his lips to your. You finally let out small whines and whimpers and while he’s running his tongue across your lips, asking for another entrance, you impatiently roll your hips. He lets out a surprised grunt but gets the hint and starts a slow but pointed pace.

Chuuya is used to having sex, he’s slept with countless people thanks to the nature of his job. It’s been seen as a skill for so long that he forgot that it could feel like this. This was something more than just a physical connection, it’s also emotional.

Chuuya thought he knew everything there was to know about sex, but he has a lot to learn about intimacy, and he doesn’t think he’d want to learn it from anyone else other than you.

#chuuya x reader #chuuya smut #bsd x reader #bsd smut #bungo stray dogs x reader #bungo stray dogs smut #chuuya x you #bsd x you #bungo stray dogs x you #chuuya x fem!reader #bsd x fem!reader #bungo stray dogs x fem!reader #bsd chuuya #writings ʚїɞ

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wchswift · 2 days ago

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─── wearing a skirt | d.w

pairing: dean winchester x reader

summary: the first time dean sees you in a mini skirt.

warnings! suggestive, slightly smutty 𖤐 mdni 18+

notes: I wore a miniskirt yesterday and I thought about how I wanted dean to see me in it 😔

── english isn't my first language :)

You were a hunter. Your life basically revolved around that, and that also included your style. Something you always tried to maintain even with the clothing limitations that came with the job.

You rarely managed to dress in something bolder, different, or not so practical. That was why, when you had the chance, you took it—and god, it had been a while since you wore a mini skirt.

You had recently bought one at a street thrift store near one of the motels where you and the boys stayed on a hunt. And tonight, for the first time in ages, you were finally going to wear it. The three of you had planned to go out, blow off some steam, and celebrate a win against the never-ending sea of crap that was your lives. A few drinks, some good music, and a night where you didn’t have to worry about angels showing up and telling that you had to save the world, again.

But patience had never been your strong suit. The second you were dressed, long before it was time to leave, you were already walking around the bunker in your outfit—mini skirt, fitted top, the whole deal.

You weren’t expecting an audience. Not really. But the moment Dean walked into the kitchen, his usual confident stride faltered, and his mouth opened just slightly before he caught himself.

"Damn, sweetheart, is there a dress code change in the bunker I didn’t hear about?" His voice was teasing, casual. But his eyes? His eyes were hungry.

You smirked, turning just slightly to grab something from the table, knowing full well his gaze would follow the movement. "What? A girl can’t dress up every now and then?"

Dean scoffed, stepping closer, his fingers brushing along the hem of your skirt. "Yeah, but usually, dressing up doesn’t involve testing my damn self-control."

You bit your lip, enjoying the way his voice had dipped lower, the way his hands twitched like he wanted to touch more—do more—but was still holding himself back.

"You like it," you teased, tilting your head up to meet his gaze.

Dean let out a breath that sounded suspiciously close to a groan. "Oh, sweetheart, liking ain’t the problem. The problem is getting through tonight without punching some poor bastard for looking at you the way I do."

That was all the warning you got before his hands finally landed on your hips, gripping you tight as he pulled you against him. Your breath hitched, heart racing when you felt just how affected he really was.

"We should go," you murmured, though the words held no conviction.

Dean exhaled a slow, measured breath before dragging his lips along your jaw, stopping just at your ear. "Yeah. We should."

Neither of you moved.

His fingers curled against the bare skin of your thighs, his lips grazing just beneath your ear, and just like that, the last bit of restraint snapped. You barely had time to register the way he hoisted you onto the nearest surface before his mouth was on yours, all heat and urgency.

Dean's hands roamed, fingers digging into your thighs, pushing up the hem of your skirt as he pressed you further into the hard surface beneath you. His lips left a trail of heat down your neck, teeth grazing, teasing, before he crashed back into your mouth, kissing you like he had all the time in the world.

Your hands found their way into his hair, tugging just enough to draw a low, needy growl from deep in his chest. He responded by gripping your tights and pushing them apart, rolling your hips against his, making you gasp into his mouth.

"Tell me to stop," he murmured against your lips, though the way he was devouring you made it clear he was hoping you wouldn't.

"Not a chance," you whispered, breathless.

Dean let out a deep chuckle, hands slipping beneath your top, thumbs tracing slow circles against your bare skin. "Yeah, babydoll. That's what I thought."

At that moment, a distant voice echoed through the bunker. "Are you two coming or what?"

Neither of you moved.

You gasped for air, your chest rising and falling rapidly as you clutched at his clothes. "Dean… We should go now." you breathed out.

Dean grinned against your mouth. "Told you we weren’t making it out that door."

Sam was going to be waiting a long, long time.

𖤐 reblogs and feedback are appreciated! requests are also welcome, ty!

taglist: @lyarr24 @cowboysandcigarettes @chevroletdean @bettystonewell @iloveeveryoneyoureamazing (if you want to be removed or added let me know <3)

#꣖ ີ ꣓ writes.#dean winchester #dean winchester 🪽#supernatural #dean winchester x reader #dean supernatural #dean winchester x fem reader #jensen ackles #dean winchester drabble #dean winchester fic #dean winchester smut #jensen ackles x reader #supernatural fanfiction #supernatural dean #dean winchester fanfiction #supernatural drabble

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telephoniii · 17 hours ago

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HEARTSHAPED CHOCOLATES

☆彡 in which you gift jamil a valentine and things get complicated

jamil viper x gn!reader

word counter: 3.1K

warnings: reader is prefect, possible ooc, miscommunication (kinda), descriptions of servitude

a/n: i wrote this at 2AM but i think it's really cute. i’m definitely biased because jamil is my favorite and i do NOT have any valentines this year whatsoever 😭

i hope you enjoy!! :>

Jamil wiped down the counter with a frustrated sigh. Kalim had, once again, gone behind his word and threw a last-minute party. One that Jamil had to do a majority of the work for. And now here he was, cleaning up after the incompetent boy.

Nothing he wasn't used to, but upsetting nonetheless. Though, he supposed that he’d be lying to himself if he claimed it was the only reason he felt bitter. His eyes flickered toward a calendar that hung on the kitchen wall of Scarabia.

Tomorrow, it’d officially be Valentine's Day.

Now, most NRC students were as single as could be for a variety of reasons— being a celebrity, focusing on grades, etc. Jamil fell under the category of being too busy. So many, much more important matters were always fighting for his attention. And a lot of them are related to Kalim in some way or form.

Being a destined servant to the Al Asim household wasn't an ideal situation. Plain and simple. Especially when it came to romantic relationships.

In middle school, young Jamil had a few girls he was interested in. However, all hopes of those crushes blooming into anything more died when they witnessed Jamil and his family bowing down to Kalim.

It's difficult to explain his role to his peers. Of course, the older he got the easier it became. But for most of his childhood, it was extremely embarrassing to have to say that he was to devote his life to serving the Al Asim family forever.

It was humiliating, giving leeway for others his age to look down on him. Now it wasn't just Kalim who he was lesser than. It was everyone. And it was hardly fair. Jamil was smarter than all of them combined.

He caught on to things quickly and was easily adaptable. When learning magic, his movement was calculated and precise. Yet, because of his last name, the respect he deserved was never given… Needless to say, he never pursued any more crushes.

By the time he was enrolled in NRC, romance no longer seemed plausible for his lifestyle. He wouldn't be able to devote so much time to another person other than Kalim anyway. That man-child can barely do anything on his own to save his life.

Jamil was convinced he’d spend the rest of his youth alone, only really finding a potential partner once he was free from the chains of servitude.

…And then you showed up at NRC.

You and your stupid soft eyes; that genuine empathy you carried on your sleeve. It's idiotic, really. You were bound to get taken advantage of in a school like this. Against his better judgment, Jamil felt drawn to you.

Despite being magicless and from a whole other world, you seemed to understand and empathize with his struggles better than those he had grown up with. And you weren't just all bark, no bite. You helped out a lot.

Many can just say that they feel sorry for Jamil, yet stand idly by as he served Kalim. You, however, saw him through his overblot. Instead of moving on, you forced him to communicate with Kalim about how he was feeling. It would've been so easy to fall back into the status quo, yet you stayed and improved his life for the better.

He’ll never quite get how one person could leave such a big impact.

You eased his worries about servitude. Being around you was naturally calming. It didn't feel like he had to babysit when he spent time with you. In fact, he felt as though he was learning new things— about both himself and others— every day with you.

The feeling scared him to his soul.

It was terrifying to be this addicted to another person’s presence. He wasn't used to having someone to look forward to: someone he wanted to be around all the time.

Jamil didn't know whether or not to pursue you. The last thing he wanted was to drag you into more of his messes… however, you seemed to frequently do that yourself, choosing to be involved for his sake. He was truly infatuated.

Despite it all, he refused to make a move.

You weren't from this world and all too soon he was sure you’d find a way back to where you were meant to be. It’d be selfish of him to pursue you, trapping you in a place you didn't belong. He knows the feeling of being trapped all too well after all.

There were no telltale signs you’d be interested in him back anyway. You were friendly with all and close to many. Who’s to say one of those fancy princes or endearingly dumb freshmen isn’t the one who’s captured your heart?

He purposely doesn't stand out, unlike some other students. Jamil assumed this put him at a natural disadvantage.

Assumed being the keyword.

Of course you, always breaking his expectations, had to crumble his thoughts by gifting him chocolates.

“Jamil?”

His eyes moved from his textbook to you in a second. He raised a brow as he watched you stare at him with an unrecognizable glint in your eyes. “Did you need help with something, Prefect?”

Those words made you perk up, grounding you back in reality. “No! No. I’m fine. Just…”

Clearing your throat, you put down your pencil. The homework in front of you was long forgotten as you focused your attention mainly on Jamil— much to his confusion.

“Do… Do you have any plans for Valentine's Day?” You cautiously asked, looking at him intently.

He furrowed his brows at the question, thinking it over. “Kalim will most definitely want to throw a party for the occasion. I'll be in charge of the decorations, cooking, and— well, everything as per usual.”

Jamil answered truthfully, not seeing much of a reason not to. Yet, he felt like he answered wrong as his eyes met your deflated gaze.

“Got it… Yeah, that makes sense…”

Before he could invite you to the party— you’re one of the only people he’d happily cook for— you messily started scouring through your bag.

He observed you curiously, mentally noting that he should help you clean out your backpack sometime. I mean, the amount of loose papers you have in there is absurd—

“Here.”

His mind goes quiet as you pull out a small, heart-shaped box and slide it toward him. Jamil looks at you like you are crazy, making you chuckle.

“I was hoping to give it to you on Valentine's Day, if you're busy then, I’d rather do it now and save you the trouble.” How thoughtful of you… His shock was transparent as he struggled to form words.

You didn't know whether or not to take that positively or negatively.

“Uhh—” It was awkward, the air was tense as you swiftly stood up. You flashed him a nervous smile. “I should go check up on Grim… Good seeing you?”

Jamil had never felt more scatterbrained. So many thoughts racing at once. Yet so little came out of his mouth.

“Good seeing you too, Prefect.”

He never did invite you, did he?

Jamil sighs at his ridiculousness. In the back of his mind, he tried to justify it.

The party wouldn't be ideal for you to come to anyway, he’d be working the majority of the time. He doubts you’d enjoy yourself. It might be awkward for you to even come after that exchange.

However, deep down, he knew he should've said something. Anything. Instead, he just let you leave with unsure thoughts.

Jamil didn't want to leave this be. He wanted to make it right. But with so little time, he was stuck.

Valentines arrived unreasonably fast, causing him to frown. The students of Scarabia could sense something was wrong, but no one had the guts. Well, no one except…

“Jamil? Are you mad?” Kalim innocently asked.

Although you made Jamil talk out a lot of his issues with Kalim, the white-haired boy’s voice still irked him to his soul.

“No. What makes you say that?” The Viper responded, keeping his tone neutral and calm.

Nonetheless, Kalim squinted at him with a pout.

“Is this about the Prefect?”

He nearly choked on his spit. “Excuse me?”

“Well, you guys like each other, right? Did you fight over something? Aww, I’m sorry if an argument broke out right before Valentine's.”

Jamil shook his head with an annoyed scoff, giving Kalim an unamused look.

“No, what—? Rewind. What makes you think we like each other?”

Kalim tilted his head like a lost puppy. It only served to frustrate Jamil further.

“Is it not obvious? You’re way happier around them than anyone else!”

Not that anyone pointed it out, but Jamil would undoubtedly deny the way his cheeks heated up at that statement.

“We’re not seeing each other romantically. Neither do we think of one another that way…”

He regretted letting his sentence trail and thinking aloud. Whenever it came to you, he was much less organized than he liked.

“…Well, sort of.” Although he merely mumbled these three words, that was all it took for Kalim to spring up ecstatically.

“Oh! So you like them but you haven't confessed? You can do it at today's party! I’ll invite them right now!” “What! No— Kalim, slow down!”

Jamil had to physically grab the other hot by his shoulders to keep him from bouncing away.

“I'm not ‘confessing’ at this party today, or any time soon.”

That lost puppy looked returned to Kalim’s face. Although he had seen it a few minutes ago, it still pissed him off all the same.

“Why not?”

Because he didn't know how to; plain and simple. Jamil for sure didn't want to have his ‘confession’ be too big. He’d hate for himself to come off as ingenuine to you.

Not to mention, Kalim and his antics have more or less ruined any big, dramatic gestures for him. Jamil can't help but find them corny and tacky now.

However, he didn't want to do something too small. A simple note won’t cut it for him. You deserve more. What exactly that entailed, he didn't know.

“Because I don’t want to.” Jamil unenthusiastically answered. He cut off Kalim before he could speak up. “No more questions.”

Not wanting to entertain this conversation any longer, Jamil walked away. Right. He had other, more pressing matters to worry about. Party preparations.

Food, decorations, music, lighting…

Damn it, why won’t you leave his mind?

The party, thankfully, went smoothly. Guests were enjoying themselves, there was enough food for everyone, and Kalim was too distracted by a few people to bother him. Letting out a relieved sigh, Jamil leaned against the wall behind him. His eyes wandered around as he started people-watching.

It was important to stay alert when it came to the people at these parties. He had to make sure no one had harmful intentions towards the young Al Asim. Though, as he should've expected, there were many couples here tonight.

Seems like a lot of Scarabian students brought their off-campus lovers here. Jamil can only hope Crowley doesn't chastise them too harshly for doing so.

He perks up as a slow song plays over the party. The lights are adjusted to dim and soon enough, practically everyone was on the dance floor. Couples, friends, strangers, talking stages— you name it.

It’s no surprise Jamil seemed drawn to the dance aspect of this part of the night. Even if he tried to hide it at times, his passion for the art of dancing always had its way of shining through. He glanced through the crowd to see if there was anyone without a partner.

Thankfully for him, it wasn't too hard to spot someone. These types of parties were always bound to have a few wallflowers. As he made his way through the crowd toward the one he had his eye on, he couldn't help but hear a couple of voices over the music.

“Ace, you little—!” That was all Jamil could make out before he felt a person suddenly collide with him. It didn't hurt or anything, and Jamil had enough sense to gauge it was most likely a mistake—

“Uh, hi.”

He didn't expect to turn around and be met with the sight of you. An embarrassed look sat upon your face as you fidgeted with the ends of your clothes.

“Hey.” Jamil curtly replied.

You gave him that stupid little smile of yours that made his heart race. A hopeful hum left your lips.

“Are you busy?”

He couldn't help but chuckle in response, giving his genuine answer.

“Nope.” He stuck his hand out, pretending that his mind wasn't going fuzzy from being in your presence. “May I have this dance?”

He felt you place your hand on top of his.

“Of course.”

With your permission, he let one hand fall to your waist as he gently guided you in a waltz-like manner. He was more experienced than you, precisely moving as the two of you dance.

You couldn't help but feel endeared. Jamil was pretty from close up. Unfortunately— or fortunately— he caught you staring. He gave you an amused look in response.

However, he didn't expect you to abruptly frown and glance away.

‘You couldn't get your hopes up,’ Your mind reminded you, recalling his reaction to your gift. It was for the better you don't get too attached.

Jamil seemed disheartened by the disconnect. His hand on your waist lightly tightened. Shortly after, a mischievous grin found its way on his face.

Suddenly, Jamil’s movement quickened. You gave him a confused raise of the brow.

“Jamil—?”

He doesn't give you time to finish your thought as he spins you, swiftly catching you in his arms afterward. Taken by surprise, you can’t help the laugh that escapes you.

You've never seen Jamil look more proud of himself as he gave you that smug little smile of his. He barely gave you time to react before he was moving the two of you again.

What you didn't expect was for him to dip you so, so low. Instinctively, you squealed. Your arms clung onto him for dear life.

“Jamil—!”

He let out a laugh at your reaction. “What? It's not like I’m going to drop you or anything.”

Your grip tightened after hearing those words. “Great sevens— you better not drop me!”

He playfully rolled his eyes. Jamil leaned in closer, his voice taking a lower tone as he whispered, “You trust me, Prefect, don’t you?”

You didn't respond to that, instead letting your small glance to the side paired with an embarrassed expression speak for itself.

In the next few steps, he taught you some more advanced footwork. He couldn't help but admire the way you’d smile as you caught onto it quickly. Jamil then spun you once more, this time it was less abrupt.

Prepared, you were able to smoothly go along with it. The boy let out an impressed hum, giving you a satisfied look. His eyes practically told you what he had planned next. Another dip.

The dip was more nerve-wracking than the spin. However, Jamil didn't intend to dip you as low as he did before— thankfully.

Your hold on him still tightened like it did before as he dipped you. Unlike before, Jamil let the pose and moment linger.

You’d gaze up at him, admiring the determined glint in his eyes. The way his hair naturally fell, framing his face, was just the cherry on top.

Oh, and how could you forget those breathtaking lips of his...

His thoughts were eerily similar to yours, taking in your features before letting his eyes roam over your lips. Jamil leaned closer, bringing his face mere inches from yours.

You swung your arms around his neck, making it easier for him to get closer… and closer… and…

Just as the two of you closed your eyes, about to connect, you hear the slow music turn to an upbeat, party song. Next thing you know, you felt your body swiftly being pulled up.

One moment, you and Jamil were so close, the next he was acting as though you were toxic. His hands left your hips as he cleared his throat.

It looked like he was planning on saying something before a familiar voice cut through the crowd.

“Jamil! Come dance with me!” The two of you both heard the young Al Asim shout.

You frowned. Right. He’s busy tonight with duties and whatnot. Although you felt disappointed, you gave him a tired smile and nod.

Jamil’s brows were furrowed, his eyes flickering between you and the direction Kalim’s voice came from.

Tonight seemed full of surprises as Jamil’d hand shoots out to your forearm and hurriedly guided you outside in the opposite direction of Kalim.

You were in shock as he pulled you outside, shutting the door behind him with a sigh.

“…You’re not gonna—?” “If anyone asks, you were nauseous from dancing and went outside with me for fresh air.”

Jamil was dead serious as he spoke, looking at you for confirmation. You nodded your head.

“Uh, got it.”

Silence soon filled the atmosphere between the two of you, the only sound being from the night’s wind. It was oddly tense. You were the first one to break the quiet.

“I’m sorry.” Jamil’s gaze immediately snapped up to yours, narrowing in confusion.

“Sorry?” He repeated, looking for clarification.

You fidgeted with the ends of your clothes. “Sorry for the chocolates. That was probably uncomfortable for you since that kinda gift is usually reserved for couples and all…”

Jamil’s expression softened the more you talked.

“Don’t be. It was a lovely gift.” His hands slowly make their way to yours, gently holding you.

“I reacted the way I did because…” Jamil sucked in a hesitant breath. “…Well, you’ve made me feel things. Feelings that I thought I was incapable of feeling.”

He carefully pulled you closer to him, allowing you to back away if you wanted to. You didn't. You just stared back into his gaze as he continued.

“Around you, I feel unburdened by my responsibilities. I feel… alive.” If you maneuvered your hand right, you could feel his pulse practically beating out of his body.

“I adore you like no other. When I received those chocolates, my mind melted. You… you turn me into such a mess.” He lightly scoffed with a small shake of the head. You can't help but chuckle.

“Nonetheless,” He gave your hands a gentle squeeze. You squeezed back.

“I’d never wish this feeling away. Never in a million years.”

Jamil’s hands momentarily left yours as he fiddled with his jacket. He was looking for something…?

“Although it’s long overdue,”

After a few moments, Jamil pulls out a small, red rose. You recognize it as a part of the decor from the party. He slips it into your hand effortlessly, his eyes staying on yours.

“Will you be my Valentine?”

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