#what even is her last name I couldn’t find it

[amiableness]

Peonies ; part four

Pairing: Theo Nott x Fem!Reader

Summary: Mattheo is in an awful mood after the party while Theo takes reader to the peony field.

Word Count: 4772

Warnings: Unrequited love & Mattheo and Theo get into it. Reader overthinks for a little bit. Mentions of drugging? One mention of Y/n. Let me know if there’s more!

A/N 💌 I can't tell you how nervous I am to post this, I feel like it's not my best work. But regardless, I hope you guys enjoy this chapter. As usual thank you to @moonpascal for reading, helping me with ideas, and just providing support and comfort. I love you endlessly!

SERIES MASTERLIST <3

“Did something happen last night between you and Mattheo?” Pansy asks, throwing the door open with an expectant look. Despite your low mood, you can’t help but crack a tiny smile at the sight of her—hair a tousled mess, mascara smudged beneath her eyes. She’s the perfect picture of someone who had way too much fun last night.

“Is there any particular reason you’re asking?” You reply cautiously, eyes following her as she saunters over and slips into bed beside you. She gives the blanket a hard tug, leaving you to huff in irritation when she claims more than her fair share.

“Because I heard him and Veronica fighting. I didn’t catch much, but I did hear your name.” Pansy looks you over, taking in your rumpled clothes and tired eyes. You’re not in much better shape than she is, and she can't tell if it’s the lingering effects of last night’s drinks or the aftermath of whatever happened with Mattheo.

“Merlin,” you sigh, rolling your eyes and sinking deeper into the warmth of your bed. You haven’t moved since Theo left about twenty minutes ago, and you’re not sure if you’ll find the energy to do so anytime soon. Honestly, the idea of staying curled up here is more tempting than you'd like to admit. “We got into it again last night.”

“Again?” Pansy raises an eyebrow, shifting to face you.

“Apparently, he does care.” Your voice is dripping with sarcasm and frustration.

“He told you that?” Pansy shifts so quickly it’s as if you’ve shocked her. Both of you know very well that Mattheo isn’t the type to open up about what he’s feeling. Years of watching him around his parents taught you why—with how many times you had seen them scold him for even a flicker of emotion, it was no wonder he kept everything locked up.

You sigh, staring up at the ceiling, “He said he wanted me to admit I have feelings for him too.” Pansy's eyes widen, her mouth falling open as she stares at you in disbelief.

“Feeling for him too?” She echoes, and you finally turn to meet her eyes with a weak nod. Your best friend sits there for a moment, studying your face carefully before choosing her next words. She knows she has a nasty habit of saying the first thing on her mind without considering that it might not be what you need to hear.

Pansy sits up, grabbing the pillow she was using and hugging it to her chest as she stares at you impatiently. She’s waiting to hear if you’ve finally told the boy you’ve been head over heels for, for years, that you like him too. “Well? Did you?”

“I couldn’t do it.”

“Please, tell me it’s for the reason I’m thinking.” She all but begs, her eyes wide with hope.

You let out a weary sigh. “I don’t know when I stopped having feelings for him, Pans. I didn’t even realize I’d lost them until he asked me to tell him I felt the same, and there was just...”

“Just..?” Pansy prompts gently.

A pause hangs between you as you search for the right words.

You hardly slept last night; your mind raced with thoughts of the past few months, trying to pinpoint when and how your feelings faded so quietly. You had liked Mattheo for so long, even convinced yourself that maybe you even loved him. But how could you truly love someone who was so closed off? Sure, he turned to you when he was struggling, but that didn’t mean he ever shared what he was feeling. He liked your presence and relied on you to be there whenever he needed support, but he never trusted you enough to truly let you in.

Not in the way you wanted, at least.

If he wasn’t comfortable with his own emotions, there was no way he would be able to handle yours. Maybe that was the heart of it—the realization that he would never fully open up to you, and that had kept you from falling in love with him. And maybe that was the best thing that could have happened, no matter how painful or uncomfortable it was to come to terms with at the beginning.

Then there was Theo. Who had promised to help you get over Mattheo, and from that moment on, he was there for you without hesitation. He held your hand whenever you needed it, and honestly, you had begun to lean on him a bit too much—being close to him had become your favorite feeling. He never made it feel like supporting you was a chore; instead, he made it seem like something he had always longed to do.

In truth, everything had changed for you. Spending time with Theo was no longer just a way to distract yourself from Mattheo; it became where you wanted to be. Being around him made you feel safe and accepted in a way you hadn’t realized you craved.

And that was absolutely terrifying.

You sit up abruptly, fully facing Pansy, “When you said that you thought Theo would give me everything if I let him, did you mean that?”

“Babes,” she begins, sending you a soft smile. “I’ve always thought you would be good for Mattheo. You bring something out in him; he’s happiest when he’s around you. Veronica seemed to make him happy at first—” she adds with a snort—“but nowhere near the level you do.”

“But with Theo…” Pansy trails off. “I’ve never seen you so happy—and not the kind of happy you were with Mattheo. It’s not the relief of him not having a one-night stand or flirting with you a bit bolder at a party. It’s genuine happiness; you’re truly yourself. Theo brings out a different side of you, and you do that for him, too.”

Glancing over at the vase of red peonies, battling the tightness in your throat and the sting in your eyes. You decide you’d rather not spend the day in bed.

.·。.·゜✭·.·✫·゜·。.

Since last night, Theo has been struggling to push away the thought that maybe the idea of you having feelings for him isn’t so far-fetched. Especially after you’d implied that the two of you were together to the girl who’d tried to flirt with him. The way you’d intertwined your fingers with his, staking a silent claim that he was off-limits, had left him reeling. There was no way you’d be so possessive if you didn’t feel the same. At least, that’s what he’d been telling himself all morning.

And then there was the way you hadn’t been able to answer Mattheo about your feelings. Theo’s whole heart had been in his throat as he waited for you to tell Mattheo that you did have feelings for him, that you’d had them for years. But you hadn’t answered.

In a way, though, you had, hadn’t you? You’d pushed past Mattheo without a word and gone straight to him.

“Are you coming with us to Hogsmeade or not?” Enzo nudges Theo, pulling him out of his thoughts. The boys had all planned to go to Hogsmeade together this weekend, a plan set firmly in stone since last weekend. But when Theo saw you this morning, he couldn’t hold back. On impulse, he asked if you wanted to spend some time together, suggesting—almost shyly—that he could finally show you where he’d been getting the peonies.

“No, I’ve got plans.” Theo shrugs, and Draco sends him an irritated look from the opposite couch.

“We made plans.” Draco huffs, clearly agitated with the change. He always hated it when the boys ditched at the last second.

“Something came up.” Theo sighs, hoping that he’ll let it go quickly. He’s well aware that Mattheo should be coming down the stairs at any second. Enzo had told them that he was taking forever to get ready, probably hungover from last night. 

“You mean your girl.” Blaise corrects, and Draco looks disgusted. His head swings back to look at Theo.

“You’re ditching us for her? Mate, that’s pathetic.” Draco scoffs. “She isn’t even your girlfriend.”

“She’s pretty damn close.” Blaise points out, and Theo tries his best to ignore the feeling that jolts through him when he thinks of you as his girlfriend.

He doesn’t have a chance to say anything—not that he would have—before Mattheo walks over to join the group. He claps a hand on Draco’s shoulder, only for Draco to shrug him off irritably. “C’mon,” Mattheo says, his tone leaving no room for argument.

As the others rise, stretching and adjusting their robes, Theo remains seated, gaze fixed on the fireplace in front of him. Mattheo pauses, giving him a puzzled look, one brow lifting in question. “You’re not coming?”

“No.” Theo answers curtly, clearly uninterested in extending the conversation. The truth is, he hasn't spoken to Mattheo in quite a while, and when they do, it’s nothing but tension—a quiet frustration simmering beneath each exchange.

Mattheo’s curiosity sharpens. “Why not?”

“He’s got plans with his girl,” Draco interjects with a roll of his eyes, impatience seeping into his voice. “Now, can we go? We’ve waited long enough for you as it is.”

“Wait. Hold on,” Mattheo turns to face him fully, and Draco huffs when he realizes they’re not going to be leaving any time soon. “Your girl?”

“You know what he means.” Blaise interjects calmly, his eyes shifting to Mattheo as he watches tension coil through his stance.

Mattheo gives a casual shrug, though his jaw tightens. “No, Blaise, I really don’t.”

Theo huffs, rolling his eyes as he stands, making to push past. “Why the hell do you even care?”

Mattheo’s hand snaps out, stopping him mid-step. “You know why I care.”

Theo’s gaze darkens, voice low. “Oh, you mean because of your feelings for her?” He shakes his head in disbelief. “Does your girlfriend know that you told Y/n you’ve always liked her?”

Theo’s eyes flicker over Mattheo’s shoulder, catching the shared looks between Blaise, Enzo, and Draco. There’s no shock in their expressions—only a knowing look as if they’d been bracing for this moment all along. It’s unsettling, the way they seem almost resigned, like they’ve seen the tension building between him and Mattheo from a mile away.

Mattheo scoffs, an edge of irritation slipping into his voice. “Did she go and tell you everything I said?”

Theo raises a brow, “No, I overheard you. But even if she did, what does it matter to you?”

Matteo narrows his eyes, “Because I care about her.”

“Bullshit. If you cared about her, you wouldn’t have put her in that position last night.”

“I care about her more than you think.” Mattheo bites out, and the boys watch carefully as Mattheo takes another step forward.

“Right,” Theo scoffs, “You care so much you went and found yourself another girl.”

Theo sees it before Mattheo even speaks—the subtle shift in his expression, the tightening of his jaw, the flicker of defensiveness flashing in his eyes. “I wasn’t ready to—”

“So you weren’t ready for her? But you were for Veronica? I don’t get it. You can’t just expect her to always be there when you finally figure out what you want.”

Mattheo laughs in disbelief, “I wasn’t waiting, I—”

“Then what the hell were you doing?” Theo’s voice sharpens. “You had years to tell her how you felt, and you didn’t say anything. Then you get a girlfriend, she starts spending time with me, and all of a sudden, you care? Leave her alone and quit messing with her.”

“I’m not fucking messing with her—”

“You are. You’ve been doing it for years.” Theo’s eyes flash with frustration, and suddenly he feels the urge to make it clear that he wants you—that he always has, and Mattheo isn’t the only one. “She deserves better than someone who can’t make up their mind. She deserves to be someone’s first choice.”

Mattheo’s expression hardens and his tone drops. “And that’s you?”

Theo doesn’t have the chance to answer, because Veronica’s shriek causes both their heads to snap in her direction, “Matty!”

Theo watches as Mattheo steps back, anger giving way to frustration, a quiet curse slipping from his lips at the sight of his girlfriend. Veronica strides forward, pushing right past Blaise and Enzo without a second glance. Blaise shoots her an agitated look, irritation flashing in his eyes as she barrels through.

“I thought you said you guys were going to Hogsmeade.” Veronica smiles, reaching out to take Mattheo’s hand, but he subtly pulls away, dodging her touch with a flicker of impatience in his eyes.

“We are.” He grumbles under his breath, but Veronica keeps smiling sweetly, unfazed, as if her boyfriend hadn’t just blatantly brushed off her attempt to hold his hand. Mattheo turns to leave, muttering something to the boys, likely a brief comment about their plans.

Theo watches as an agitated Mattheo strides out of the common room, with the boys trailing behind him. But the boys glance back at Theo, their expressions a mix of caution and confusion. Theo turns to leave as well, but Veronica’s voice stops him, soft and pointed, just loud enough for him to hear.

“You should tell your girlfriend that last night was a mistake,” she murmurs, a sympathetic smile tugging at her lips. “Mattheo thought she was me; you know how he gets after a few too many drinks.”

Theo thinks about correcting her, letting her know that he doesn’t really know what she means at all. From what he saw last night, Mattheo was tipsy—not that drunk—and Theo has had enough years of experience to tell the difference. But instead, he shrugs it off, deciding he’d rather find you than spend any more time in the common room.

.·。.·゜✭·.·✫·゜·。.

“Hogsmeade is that way.” You say, a bit confused, gesturing in the opposite direction as you walk beside Theo.

“I know.” He replies simply, his gaze flickering back to the trail that you’ve never gone down before. Honestly, you had no idea it even existed. It’s evident that this path isn’t used often, as moss and grass have claimed most of the walkway. Vibrant wildflowers dot the sides, their colors brightening the greenery around them. 

He’s been quiet for most of the walk, which feels strange; you’re not used to this side of him. The more time you’ve spent with Theo, the more he’s opened up—sharing memories of his late mum, the weight of his father’s expectations, and his hopes for the future. These walks, where you slowly unravel each other’s stories, have become your thing, something that only the two of you share.

You frown slightly, glancing at him as you try to piece it together. “But I thought you said you got the flowers from a shop.”

“I never said that.” Theo’s lips curve into that soft, gentle smile that never fails to send your stomach into a flutter. “I said I’d take you with me the next time I went to get some. I never said it was in Hogsmeade.”

It takes you a second, too enamored with the view in front of you for it all to click. The walk isn’t long, but as you continue down the path, you spot a patch of red ahead. It stands out against the greenery, a cluster of flowers blooming a pretty, vibrant hue. You can’t quite tell what kind they are, but when you glance at Theo, you notice the way his eyes flicker nervously, and it suddenly feels like you’re walking toward something important.

But then it hits you all at once: “They’re peonies.”

On instinct, you grab Theo’s hand, giving it a playful tug to urge him along toward the blooms. He lets out a soft laugh at your enthusiasm, and a warmth fills you as his earlier mood seems to lift, the tension in his shoulders fading.

When you reach the edge of the flower field, you pause, still holding Theo’s hand as your gaze lingers over the vibrant blooms stretching out before you. Theo glances at you, heart beating a little faster as he wonders what you’re thinking, but he brushes aside his nerves and releases your hand, shrugging off his jacket to lay it carefully on the ground. You murmur to him, urging him not to squish any of the flowers, and Theo smiles, his expression softening as he gently reassures you that he won’t.

There isn’t much room on his jacket, so you find yourself pressed against Theo’s side—though you don’t mind in the slightest. He’s leaned back on his hands, while you sit cross-legged beside him.

The quiet is soothing, broken only by the soft chatter of birds and the occasional hum of an insect drifting from flower to flower. The warmth of the sun on your skin feels heavenly, its heat a welcome contrast to the long, cold months that have passed.

“Is this why you left? The first night you stayed with me?” You ask, glancing to the right to watch his reaction. 

From where you’re seated, you can see how the sunlight catches every small detail of his face, highlighting any imperfections. There’s the faint mole on his cheekbone, his dark lashes that you’re secretly jealous of, and the thin scar along his chin from when he fell off his broom as a kid. Another mark splits through his brow—a scar whose origin he could never quite remember, but has always just been there. It tugs at you, knowing you can recall the origins of his faded scars. It might seem trivial, but it means he’s let you in, sharing parts of himself that not everyone gets to see.

Theo nods, “I had to go early in the morning to give them to Pansy. With practice later, it was the only chance I could.”

A smile creeps onto your face as you imagine Theo, slightly awkward but determined, handing over the bundle of flowers and the little card to Pansy, who no doubt teased him relentlessly. You’d had wondered how she noticed that Theo was different with you, especially when most of your time together was just the two of you. But now, hearing this, you understand perfectly how she recognized a side of him that only seems to surface around you.

“I didn’t want to leave, y’know.” Theo continues, finally glancing over at you, and the effect is instant—those watercolor eyes meet yours, sending a flutter through your stomach as you instinctively lean closer, feeling yourself melt into his side.

“The flowers made up for it,” you tease, a soft smile tugging at your lips. “Aside from you, they were the only thing that made me feel better.”

“Yeah?” Theo glances down at you, tucked into his side, a satisfied smile tugging at his lips. Hearing you say the flowers meant something to you eases any nerves he had—because they were never just a way to cheer you up. They were his quiet, unspoken way of telling you that he was there, that he cared. And that, despite your feelings for Mattheo, he was an option too.

“Yeah.” You confirm.

For the rest of the afternoon, you and Theo sat together, talking about whatever came to mind as you picked flowers. You gathered a few, but mostly you watched as Theo picked the ones he liked the most, adding to the small bundle that sat between you both. Watching him carefully select the prettiest flowers, knowing he was going to give them to you, made something shift inside you. If you hadn’t fully realized your feelings before, you were certain of them now.

You lost track of time with Theo, but eventually, he had to leave for practice. He handed you the freshly picked flowers and walked you back to the castle, stalling as if reluctant to say goodbye. In the end, you pressed a soft kiss to his cheek and murmured a quiet ‘thank you.’ You didn’t want to say goodbye either, but you couldn’t bring yourself to be the reason Theo might get into trouble.

It wasn’t until you got back to your dorm, leaning against the door with a giddy squeal, the flowers pressed to your chest, their scent lingering in the air, that the realization hit you. You should’ve kissed him. The thought made your stomach dip with excitement, and for a fleeting moment, you entertained the idea of running after him, catching him just before practice, and kissing him. Absentmindedly, your hand rises to trace your lips, lost in your racing thoughts. 

You’re so caught up in the moment that you don’t notice Pansy at her desk, watching you with an amused look.

“You look like you had a good time.” Pansy smirks as you startle and send her a look before pushing away from the door.

“Pansy, I’m fucked.” You whine and she lets out a loud laugh.

“You were from the second he stayed the night with you.” You pause for a moment, letting the realization settle in, and as it does, you know she’s right. You couldn’t remember the last time you felt so safe with someone—not in the way you did that night. Sure, you felt safe with Mattheo, but it wasn’t the same. It didn’t compare to the way you felt when you were with Theo.

“Did you know he’s been picking me flowers?” You ask instead, setting the new bundle onto your desk before turning to face Pansy. 

“Oh, I knew.” Pansy hums, a knowing smile tugging at her lips. 

“How did I not notice?” You wonder aloud. 

“You were a little distracted.” Pansy shrugs, and you nod in agreement.

After Pansy tells you she’s meeting Blaise after practice, you briefly wonder if you should go with her. You sit on your bed, lost in thought, weighing the decision, but before you can make up your mind, Pansy is already gone.

As much as you want to see Theo, you hesitate, not wanting to assume that today meant as much to him as it did for you. It’s clear from the fact he’s been picking you flowers that he has feelings for you, but you don’t want to get ahead of yourself or risk ruining something before it has a chance to begin. So, you stay in your dorm, trying to focus on an assignment you’ve been putting off for far too long, though your mind keeps drifting back to him.

So when you hear the knock, your heart skips a beat, and before you can think, you're off your bed and rushing to the door. You know exactly who is on the other side and your stomach flutters in anticipation. You pause just before opening it, taking a deep breath to calm the flutter of nerves in your stomach, willing yourself to appear composed. 

You pull the door open, forcing a casual smile as you try to sound unaffected. “Hi,” you say, though your voice betrays the excitement simmering just beneath the surface.

Theo stands in front of you, one hand holding onto the doorframe. His hair is a tousled mess, and his cheeks are flushed—whether from practice or the rush of seemingly running here, you can’t quite tell.

And when he looks up at you, he’s out of breath and looks downright impatient, “I’m sorry.”

“You’re sorry?” You pause, thrown off and completely caught off guard. That was not what you expected him to say, and your mind spirals into the worst possible conclusions. Was he regretting what happened earlier? Apologizing for showing you the flowers, or for picking some for you? Giving you flowers at all? Maybe his feelings for you weren’t strong enough, or perhaps he only thought he had them? The thought that it could be too soon after your feelings for Mattheo crossed your mind, even though you’d started moving on from him months ago, gnaws at you.

“I’m sorry,” he repeats, releasing the doorframe and stepping forward, one step, then another. He pauses, giving you a moment to pull away if you need to, but you stay rooted to the spot, unable to move. Theo stands so close now that you have to tilt your head back slightly to meet his gaze. He reaches up, and your breath catches when his thumb gently brushes against your cheek, his hand settling just below your ear. His voice is quiet, but the weight of his words makes your heart stutter. “I should’ve kissed you, dolcezza.”

He doesn’t give you a chance to respond, his thumb tracing slow, deliberate circles on your skin as he steps even closer, his breath warm against your cheek. His words tumble out in a rush, desperate and raw. “All through practice, all I could think about was you. The moment I walked away, I just wanted to turn around and kiss you.” His voice drops to a whisper, low and thick with a longing that sends shivers down your spine.

You murmur his name softly, but he’s barely listening, his gaze intense as he leans in slightly, his lips just inches from yours. “Fuck, you've been on my mind for months—years, if I'm being honest. I feel like I’m losing my mind, wondering if you feel even a fraction of what I do.” His hand still lingers at your cheek, his thumb brushing against your skin, the warmth of his touch sending a tremor through you as if he’s waiting for something—waiting for you to say what he’s too afraid to ask.

It’s you who closes the distance, your lips meeting his in a sudden, fervent kiss that catches him off guard, pulling a surprised moan from deep in his throat. His body reacts instantly, his free hand snaking around your waist, pulling you closer, pressing you against him. The sound he makes causes a rush of warmth to flood your veins. He’s hardly touched, and you’re already too warm, and your knees threaten to buckle beneath you. You let him guide you backward, the pressure of his hand firm against your back until your steps falter just inside your dorm. Every inch of him feels like fire against your skin, and your previous worries fade into nothing.

Once you’re inside, he kicks the door closed with a thud but the sound barely registers. Without any hesitation, he presses you back against the door, his body close enough that you can feel the heat radiating off him. But you want him closer. So much closer. One hand rests flat against the door beside your head, while the other cups your cheek, his thumb brushing gently over your skin. Then, it’s him who leans in, his lips meeting yours in a slow, deliberate kiss that deepens with an aching intensity. There’s no rush now—just an overwhelming wave of longing, a perfect culmination of the emotions you’ve both held back. Your head spins, your heart races, and you’re certain that if you could take your temperature in this moment, it would be burning hot.

But then, slowly, he pulls back just enough to break the kiss, his breath heavy and uneven. His forehead rests against yours for a moment, both of you struggling to catch your breath. You feel the urge to close the distance between you again, to press your lips to his, because there’s something about the way Theo kisses that leaves you breathless, already craving more. But then again, maybe it’s just him—the way his touch makes a thrill course through you.

“I wanted you to kiss me before you left—”

The door jolts against your back, halting you mid-sentence as Pansy’s voice cuts through the moment. “What the hell? Open the door.” You hold your breath, hoping that if you stay silent, she might forget the whole thing and simply go away.

But that’s wishful thinking: “Babes. Please open the door."

“I thought you were hanging out with Blaise.” You call back, stealing a glance at Theo, whose expression mirrors your own surprise. Before leaving practice, he’d told Blaise to keep Pansy distracted—he wanted time with you because he had planned on telling you exactly how he felt about you.

“It’s about Mattheo.” Your brows raise is surprise at the intensity in Pansy’s voice and you fling open the door without another thought.

“What’s wrong?” Theo stands behind you, watching the way your face turns nervous.

“Veronica’s been giving him a love potion,” she says softly, her eyes studying your face as it twists in disbelief. “He’s in the infirmary... and he’s asking for you.”

please please please consider reblogging or leaving a comment! it keeps me motivated to write, and reblogs help to spread my work 🤍

[hoe4hotchner]

hi! could I request singer reader dating Aaron and the BAU doesn't KNOW but founds out after she drops her album/song about him (I'm thinking juno, bed chem by Sabrina etc).

Valkyrie | [A.H]

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x singer fem!reader | WC: 0.9k | CW: No use of Y/N, but reader's stage name is Valkyrie in this, Fluff, relationship

The team had scattered across the bullpen, taking a rare break between interviews and paperwork. Penelope, however, was anything but quiet. She was vibrating with excitement as she stormed into the room, tablet in hand and an undeniable spark in her eyes.

“Okay, stop everything you’re doing,” she announced dramatically, catching everyone’s attention. “Have you heard this new album?”

Emily, sitting at her desk, glanced up with a smirk. “What album?”

She held up her tablet like it was a piece of holy scripture. “Valkyrie’s new album just dropped. I’m telling you, it is life-changing, soul-touching, cry-your-eyes-out amazing.”

You were Valkyrie - the pop sensation who had taken the world by storm over the last couple of months. Known for your breathtaking voice, and your way of writing lyrics that felt personal even to the audience, like you were pulling the words straight from your soul. What the team didn’t know was that Valkyrie, the woman with chart-topping hits, was Hotch’s girlfriend - and the subject of your latest songs? Well, that was him.

"Valkyrie? Isn’t she that singer you’ve been obsessed over lately?" Derek asked, teasing.

“First of all, it’s not an obsession; it’s an appreciation of an amazing artist. And second,” Garcia held her finger up for dramatic effect, “her new album, Into You, is… well, I’m not saying it’s about someone in her life, but these lyrics, guys… they’re personal.”

Spencer, ever the analyst, raised an eyebrow. “What makes you think it’s about someone specific?”

“Oh, Spence,” Garcia sighed dramatically, tapping her tablet to pull up the lyrics. “Just listen to this - ‘Your steady presence holds me still when the world spins too fast. In your arms, I finally find my way home.’ Does that not sound like she’s writing about someone she loves?”

JJ tilted her head, intrigued. “It does sound pretty intimate.”

Derek grinned. “Sounds like someone’s in love.”

Emily leaned back in her chair, crossing her arms. “I wonder who it’s about.”

Meanwhile, Hotch had been quietly observing the conversation from his office, a small, secretive smile playing on his lips. The lyrics they were quoting were all too familiar to him. He’d heard them months ago when Valkyrie - well, you - had played the demo for him late one night, curled up together in his living room. You’d been nervous, watching him for a reaction as your voice filled the room. But there had been nothing but pride in his chest, knowing how deeply you felt for him.

"Hotch!" Derek’s voice called as he stepped out of his office. “You ever listen to this stuff?”

Hotch looked up, his calm mask firmly in place. “Occasionally.”

“Occasionally?” Garcia gasped, horrified at his indifference. “Aaron Hotchner, how can you be so nonchalant about THE Valkyrie?”

He merely raised an eyebrow, his expression neutral. “I’m aware of her work.”

Spencer, still analyzing, added, “There’s been a lot of speculation about who her songs are about. She’s private, so no one really knows who she’s dating.”

Derek chuckled. “She’s probably dating some regular guy, someone outside the spotlight.”

At that, Hotch couldn’t help but suppress a grin. He supposed, in a way, he was that regular guy - well, as regular as the head of the BAU could be.

Just then, Garcia pressed play on the song, and your voice flowed through the speakers, soft and intimate. It was the song you’d written just for him, though no one else knew that. The one that talked about finding calm in the chaos, about love that was steady and unwavering.

JJ’s brow furrowed as she listened closely, some of the lyrics sounding a little too familiar, her eyes drifting toward Hotch, catching the subtle change in his expression. “Wait… Hotch, you wouldn’t happen to know something about this, would you?”

The team went quiet as all eyes turned to him. Hotch met JJ’s gaze, his lips twitching into the faintest smile. He debated for a moment how much he should reveal. You had both agreed to keep things quiet after all, your lives were public enough without everyone knowing about your relationship. But as he looked at his team, he realized it was time.

“I do,” Hotch finally said, his voice steady.

Garcia’s eyes went wide, her tablet nearly slipping from her hands. “WAIT… WHAT?”

Derek blinked in disbelief. “No way.”

“You and Valkyrie?” Emily asked her tone somewhere between astonishment and amusement.

Hotch’s small smile grew a little. “We’ve been together for a while now.”

The bullpen exploded into noise - questions, laughter, disbelief. Garcia was beside herself. “YOU’VE BEEN DATING VALKYRIE AND DIDN’T TELL US?”

Hotch shrugged slightly. “It wasn’t relevant to the job.”

Emily shook her head, grinning. “I can’t believe you kept this a secret.”

“Believe it,” Hotch replied, his tone light but still full of pride.

Penelope, still in shock, glanced at the tablet, then back at Hotch. “That song - this whole album - it’s about you, isn’t it?”

Hotch didn’t need to answer, but the look in his eyes was enough confirmation. Spencer, still processing, muttered, “Well, that certainly explains the lyrics.”

As the team bombarded him with questions, Hotch’s mind wandered back to you. Despite the craziness of your life in the public eye and his demanding career, you had found something rare and beautiful together. And now, it seemed, the secret was out - but somehow, he didn’t mind.

[undead-supernova]

Prologue - Chapter 1

pairing: eddie munson x fem!reader

plot: you and Mr. Munson are freshman english teachers at south jefferson high school and it seems that some of the kids think he's a better teacher than you. and, yeah, you're a little bit pissed

wc: 3.9k

no cw for this prologue - (lighthearted enemies to lovers)

a fun 2000s idea i had after watching the tv show English Teacher

title reference: We Are Going To Be Friends by The White Stripes

You were a curious moth to a smoldering flame. If anyone accused you of such a thing, you’d tell them they were crazy. And yet, here you were, staring at a piece of lined paper sticking out of a locker. 

It belonged to Dustin Henderson, obvious from the Weird Al sticker stuck next to another of a retro baseball hat that read This is my thinking cap! Yeah, undoubtedly Dustin’s.

You thought about trying to push it back in so he could avoid some stupid bully ripping it. There was no reason for anyone to do that, but Dustin was a freshman and, well, he wasn’t exactly the most popular guy here. 

Fuck it, you thought before taking a step forward.

As you touched the worn corner, you spotted your name poking out from the page. Next to it was…Mr. Munson’s?

You couldn’t help yourself from pulling it out just a little further.

I just think Mr. Munson is better

Huh?

You yanked the paper from the slit, fisting it with both hands as you scanned the page. That was undoubtedly his handwriting, haphazardly written like he was always thinking faster than he wrote. 

So what the hell was Dustin Henderson doing saying that Mr. Munson was a better teacher than you? Dustin was in your class, not his! How the hell would he know?

A sudden flood of panic washed through you, causing you to throw a glance over to Aisha sitting farther up the hallway, scribbling away at something.  She was always here before everyone else, begging you to give her homework early. Most days the answer was no. Most days.

But today, her attention seemed far away. 

You looked back down, noticing a bunch of tally marks in pencil and pen. Even one was made with…an Expo marker? What the fuck?

she’s hot though, someone responded under Dustin’s comment, taunting you in red ink.

dude I’m dating Suzie 

that doesn’t mean you can’t look

Mr. Munson is super fucking cool

Why did this feel like betrayal? Why was the word gnawing at your gut? Why was it bringing that bagel you’d scarfed down this morning up to the surface? 

“Find anything good?”

You startled, instinctively jumping backwards and into the chest of the person behind you. Whirling around, you were face-to-face with Mr. Munson himself. 

This was the first time he’d spoken to you. Ever. You’d been here since last spring, subbing for a teacher on maternity leave before she decided to become a stay at home mom. The hiring process was much easier after that. You’d see him at staff meetings and watch him holding the door open for the students after school like he was herding zoo animals off of his arc. 

And now here he was, looking way too put together for a Monday morning. He had a crisp white button down with a noticeably ironed black tie and his long hair skillfully tucked into a low bun. His shaggy bangs were freshly trimmed with little tendrils framing his face. You couldn’t help but think he was the only teacher here without dark circles under his eyes. 

“I…” you trailed, trying to parse through everything that’s just happened. The tally marks. The comments. The other candidate standing in front of you. The sheer amount of tally marks declaring you inferior to said candidate. 

Mr. Munson’s eyes flickered down at the page, eyebrows shooting up. Before you could respond, he plucked it from your fingers. He mouthed the words as he read, scanning intently.

And then he let out a wheeze of laughter.

“Dustin fuc—freaking, excuse me, Henderson. You know, he’s just—” He looked back up at you, grin fading as he noticed your deflated expression. “Woah, hey. Sorry, I didn’t mean to, like, hurt your feelings or whatever.”

“It’s fine.”

It wasn’t fine and you hated that it wasn’t fine. 

There was an image that flashed briefly before your eyes, of a note stuck to your locker with gum. A love letter from your crush, the one you held to your chest with a death grip as you floated through the cafeteria to his table. The great swell of hope before the roar of laughter that ensued. Before he high-fived his friends and let you down hard. 

But this wasn’t your hometown. The walls weren’t flecked in vertical lines of blue and gold. The lights didn’t signal a death sentence.

And standing in front of you was your colleague, stuck with you in this limbo between the past and the present.

“Don’t let it get you down or whatever. They’re just kids.”

You could’ve sworn he saw the swirling fog that lingered in your eyes. Was this him letting you down easy? 

Then why does it feel like a jab?

Mr. Munson was acknowledged as the favorite teacher of the freshman class last semester. You’d caught the tail end of this recognition, watching him laugh and roll his eyes as he gave a quick salute and sat back down. Mr. Munson, who already had everything figured out within the first year of teaching here. 

You opened your mouth, pathetically suppressing the urge to ask, How did you do it? What am I doing wrong?

But the wave of students coming through brought you back to the current moment, stifling any admittance of weakness.

“Yeah, you’re right,” you said. “Gotta run, bye.”

You turned.

“Isn’t your classroom that way?”

Wincing, you turned back around, watching a smirk fill Mr. Munson’s stupid face. His eyes flickered toward your classroom three doors down from his before back at you.

“Yep, thanks. I know where my classroom is.”

“Yeah, I bet you sure do.”

“Great.”

That was the last time you would ever speak to Edward Munson.

Two weeks after you two found the list, you’d decided to sit in the empty break room for lunch. Every time you went to the cafeteria, you saw Mr. Munson there, laughing with the music and band teacher, Chelsea Jennings. 

The numerous times you’d tried sitting even slightly near them, you always heard Mr. Munson talking loudly about his Creative Writing elective. He’d rattle on about the short stories he’d assign them as models with authors even you didn’t know. Names that flew past your head, some even being professors from the local university you hadn’t attended. Professors that he still talked to.

You had taken up the Poetry elective, quickly updating the curriculum to include more female poets and sprinkle in some of the moderns. You’d desperately wanted to talk to someone else about it, but insecurity spread the second you realized all of your poets were well-known. But how could you ignore Emily Dickinson, Annie Finch, Pablo Neruda, and Mary Oliver?

Chelsea wasn’t the only one who talked to him so casually. The other teachers would greet him with such warm demeanours that it made you feel sick. George Bedding, the junior geometry teacher and Mathletes coach, ruffled Mr. Munson’s hair and pretended to punch him before sitting next to him. The fucking P.E. teacher and football coach, Shaun Atkins, even clapped a hand on his shoulder while heading towards the line for pizza day.

The few teachers that had been more than welcoming to you were never around for lunch. Angela Bradbury, one of the senior English teachers, was always helping students or hidden away in her room, nibbling on her Wonder Bread sandwiches while reading the latest romance novel. Sarah Stewart, an art teacher, was your closest ally but spent her lunches working on her own projects. 

See? There was no need to be jealous of him. You weren’t stuck on the outs. You fit in just fine.

Or, at least, that’s what you once thought. Now you had no idea how you were being perceived. And if you hadn’t come to the break room today, you would’ve spiraled. Again.

The room was small, coated in depressing beige with flimsy cabinets filled with powdered creamer and Folger’s coffee that expired two months ago. The refrigerator could barely keep anything cold. 

So, yeah, no one really came in here. 

(The other teachers hid a coffee pot in one of the supply closets with the good creamer in a mini-fridge you’d all chipped in for. Rumor has it that even Principal Scott used it.)

You sat down at the folding table, lower back already aching from the lack of support the metal chair gave you. At least you wouldn’t run into Mr. Munson again.

He’d just laughed while you were in the throes of humiliation. You supposed he didn’t have to think much about it because he was the one who was winning. Even if he was just some guy in his mid-thirties who must’ve taken this job as a last resort.

As if you hadn’t done the same.

But that was irrelevant. 

And, yes, you looked at Dustin a bit differently after the incident. Every time he raised his hand, which was a lot, you couldn’t help but see his penciled scrawl. 

Mr. Munson is super fucking cool

You wondered dejectedly if they wrote that during your class. 

Before you could let out a frustrated groan, you noticed Mr. Munson in the doorway with a metal lunchbox covered in band stickers. He paused, wide eyes locking with yours. You couldn’t help but glare. 

Should the opinion of fourteen-year-old boys affect the way you treat another adult? No, probably not.

But you weren’t always known to be a rational person.

It could’ve been minutes. You couldn’t say. The two of you locked in a stare that seemed more like predator and prey than two teachers just trying to make it through another Tuesday. His dumb expression, dark eyes as wide as a deer caught in the fluorescence. You, a mountain lion trying desperately not to devour your sandwich, chips, and Coke in one bite. Including the aluminum can.

What was worse was the longer you stared, the more you noticed how attractive he was. Properly attractive, with lips coated in what seemed to be tinted chapstick. There was no way his lips were that pink, right? And he had to be using some kind of mascara with how dark his eyelashes were. Then there was his hair, seemingly still stuck in the Eighties with the waves. At least he brushed his hair at all, which was more than any of the greasy-haired teenage boys that frequented the halls. Maybe he could be something to aspire to.

Maybe he already was.

Mr. Munson moved silently, only heard as he pulled out the chair across from you, the legs screeching against the dirty linoleum. You surveyed his lunch, an already cooked ramen cup with a Dr. Pepper. He must’ve found a better microwave in Sarah’s closet.

The teachers of South Jefferson High School had a lot of secrets hidden in their closets. 

You finally dug into your sandwich, nearly moaning in relief. The school had implemented some new rule that the kids couldn’t bring snacks or they’d be “confiscated.” This rule applied to the teachers as well which was fucking cruel. You’d said your tearful goodbyes to apple slices with caramel and coughing fits between periods because you’d tried to choke down packets of Cheez-Its.

However, you weren’t prepared to watch Mr. Munson heave noodles into his mouth with a plastic fork, slurping and sucking the entire time. You couldn’t help your grimace, desperately trying to hold back the sound of disgust in the back of your throat.

Until he looked up, stray noodles plopping back into the styrofoam.  

“Uh, what kind of sandwich is that?” 

He only swallowed after he posed his question. Jesus Christ, this was the guy the kids were deeming their favorite? If only they saw him like this.

“Turkey and provolone,” you responded curtly. 

He lifted an eyebrow. “Really? ‘Cause I see other stuff on it.”

You narrowed your eyes. “Banana peppers and onion.”

“And lettuce.”

So much for that scared little deer. Now he was some annoying warthog or a fox trying to slither through chicken wire.  

“Why are you interested in my sandwich?”

He shrugged, a hint of a smile growing in the corners of his lips. You hated it. “It, uh, looks good.”

“It’s Jersey Mike’s,” you said bluntly. 

Mr. Munson only shrugged again. “I only have ramen at my apartment.”

“Right.”

“And that fridge is a piece of shit.”

“True.”

“Woah!” he exclaimed, a huff of laughter leaving his lips. “Did we just agree on something?”

You rolled your eyes, unable to stop the feeling of being a teenage girl again. It figures you’d revert after being in this environment for so long, with the stinging scent of cleaning supplies and hormones spreading like diseases. But nothing prepared you for this to transport you back to a time once easily forgotten.

On instinct, your tongue grazed the front of your teeth, laving over the missing braces that hadn’t been there for nearly twenty years. 

“Why do you care?” you snapped. 

Something flickered across his eyes, too quick for you to distinguish. “Oh, I see,” he started, pointing his fork at you. It was then you noticed that it was in fact a spork. “You’re still pissed off about the list.”

You feigned a snort, waving him away as you took the final sip of your Coke. “What? No way.”

Another pearl of laughter flew out of him. “Has anyone told you you suck at lying?”

“Has anyone told you you’re annoying?”

As soon as it flew out of your mouth, you realized just how mean it sounded. You winced.

Mr. Munson let out another laugh but this one didn’t sound the same as the last. “If I had a penny for how many times I’ve been called annoying, I think I’d be, like, the wealthiest guy alive.”

“You’d surpass Bill Gates?” you asked, trying to lighten the mood.

He pretended to think about it before nodding. “Oh, yeah.”

“Wow.”

You couldn’t help the ease you felt when he played along. But the irritation started right back up as he reopened his mouth.

“I know you’re impressed,” he teased. “It’s okay. Go ahead and gawk.”

“Yeah, I’m absolutely starstruck.”

“Don’t worry about the list.” When you rolled your eyes again, he added, “Seriously! Those guys are just bored. I bet you’re a great teacher.”

“Thanks.” You didn’t even pretend to mean it.

After another shovel of noodles, he said, “But, just between us, I am kinda the best English teacher here.”

You couldn’t help a third eye roll. “I sincerely doubt it.”

A smug grin filled his face. “If I wasn’t, I wouldn’t be sponsoring the new book club next semester.”

A flare of anger flooded your veins.

“What?”

“Don’t get too jealous there,” he teased.

You shook your head. “No, I’m sponsoring the book club.”

He let out a hum and tilted his head. “You sure? ‘Cause I didn’t see your name on there.”

You scoffed. “I didn’t see Edward Munson on that list.” You said his name with a certain amount of venom that you knew wasn’t lost on him. His resulting scowl said it all.

He stood up, smoothing out his shirt and fiddling with his tie. “Well, I guess you’ll just have to deal with us being partners then.”

You were at a loss for words, unable to do anything but watch him move towards the door. “Been great talkin’ to you,” he said. He threw his napkin in the trash can before glancing at you over his shoulder. “I’m Edd-ie, by the way. Don’t wear it out.”

He walked away but you couldn’t help but throw a napkin at his fading figure. It made it as far as the end of the table.

That was the first moment you wondered why he’d decided to eat here in the first place.

“There must be some kind of mistake!” you exclaimed.

Principal Scott shook her head for probably the fourth time in two minutes. “I don’t see why you can’t work with Mr. Munson on this. If anything, that makes the club stronger.”

“It’s my chance to try and connect with these kids,” you explained, desperation leaking through your professional demeanor. “Ed—Mr. Munson has been here way longer than I have—”

“Only by a year,” she corrected, but you were far from over.

“ —and he has a leg up on me with them! I want to start making an impact! Kids these days are less interested in reading than ever before. It stopped being cool. What if I could inspire them to care? What if I could get them to read things that change their point of view on the world, to inspire them to think further outside of the little box their environment puts them in?”

Eddie was impressed by your speech, even if he wasn’t supposed to witness it. He’d actually been on the way here to talk to Principal Scott himself to try and keep his spot as the club’s head sponsor. Maybe keep you there but reduce your authority.

But then. Well. He heard you talk like this.

“And that’s great,” Principal Scott continued. “I just don’t see why you and Mr. Munson can’t do that together.”

“The kids like him,” you said before coughing. “At least, that’s how it seems.” Eddie rolled his eyes. “How am I supposed to do this work if he’s taking the spotlight? I’m just supposed to stay sidelined?”

He thought about the first time he saw you, at that first staff meeting you’d attended. You fidgeted a lot, all flustered and nervous like all new teachers were. Even in your fear, he thought you were pretty. Standing there, shifting from one heel to the other like you’d rather go barefoot than stand in the opposite corner.

You’d looked over at him at the same time, caught up in an awkward staring contest where both contestants refused to stop blinking and had no idea when to call it quits. It didn’t help that you seemingly relaxed at the connection. It was kind of adorable.

When he saw you in the halls after that, he found himself pausing to observe you. You were always there to wish the kids a good morning and a good rest of their day with a certain amount of sincerity that he could never muster. If there was a hyperventilating kid in the hallway, you were the first one to huddle them into your room to help them down from whatever ledge their raging hormones put them on that day. 

Once, he’d walked past your room to see you opening a drawer while saying, “Don’t tell anyone about my secret stash, okay?” You pulled out a bowl of candy that even had his mouth watering. The student nodded her head, puffy-eyed but already reaching in. “If you promise to keep it a secret, you can come get candy whenever you want. How does that sound?”

If you were outside directing carpool, the worst of all the roulette wheel of responsibilities South Jefferson had to offer, you always seemed energized. Like it wasn’t a chore whatsoever. 

He knew you cared about these kids. He did.

But you seemed to have absolutely lost it at the mere implication that you weren’t already everyone’s favorite English teacher. You’d developed some personal vendetta against him as if it was his fault that fourteen-year-olds with greasy hair, braces, and cruel acne flares thought better of him. Especially Dustin Henderson and his group of nerds. He meant that with all the love in the world, of course.

The way you spoke to him was more intriguing than infuriating. Amusing, even. But then you said his name with such disdain, such vitriol. It prodded at something deep inside him, a well of nearly forgotten memories that seemed to overflow the second you said his name like that.

So, yeah, maybe he was starting to develop a bit of a vendetta against you.

Eddie had to shift his plans. Clearly you weren’t going to give up easily. Maybe he’d annoy you to the brink of insanity and get you to drop your sponsorship. He’d always had proficiency in that skill. Besides, it wasn’t too mean. What was another push?

“Don’t you think you’ll get better turnout rates if he’s there?” Principal Scott reasoned. “If the kids like him so much, you can use that to your advantage—and his. I know Mr. Munson is a dedicated teacher. He’s given your speech to me dozens of times about things that quite frankly matter less. He’s passionate. Just try to work together. It doesn’t have to be that complicated.”

“Fine,” you conceded. “Fine. I can do that. Thank you for your time, Principal Scott.”

“Call me Carrie.”

“Yes, thank you, Carrie. I’ll see what I can do.”

Eddie thought about walking away. Really, he did.

But there was a part of him that really wanted to see you. Your figure had been obscured by the doorframe and, sure, he’d gotten enough from your words alone.

Nothing prepared him for the sight before him. You were utterly defeated, scratching at your neck as you hunched forward. The cross-strap bag you always carried was slipping off of your shoulder, causing you to groan as you fixed it. 

As your eyes flickered up, he watched the scowl that seemed reserved for him deepen.

“What?” you challenged. “You wanna gloat?”

It was then Eddie realized he’d been grinning. He gestured to his face. “Was I not already gloating?”

“I can’t believe this,” you grumbled, quickly strolling past him.

But Eddie had a hard time knowing when to stop. And maybe, just maybe, he was solidifying his new plan. It couldn’t be that difficult, could it?

“You could take a picture, you know,” he continued. “just so you can keep up with every face I have when I win.”

“Shut up.”

Oh, he could get this done before Christmas break was over. If he challenged himself enough, maybe by the end of next week.

“I can lend you a camera if you’d like.”

You halted with a huff. “I’m trying to get things done for these kids. I’m trying to help them. Do you not get that? Or is this just a mask you wear to make people like you?”

Eddie tried to disguise the quirk of his eyebrow as he considered your words. But judging by the upwards flick of your eyes, he knew he’d been caught.

What was it that you saw in him that hadn’t been uncovered since his youth?

“You think so low of me.”

“I haven’t been given a reason to indicate any other kind of reaction to you and your incessant need to be a pest at any given time of the day.”

Eddie resisted the urge to give you a slow clap. Instead, he settled on “You done?”

You took a deep breath before nodding. “Yes.” Something seemed to shift as you took another deep breath and straightened your posture. “Winter break is coming up next week. We should try to figure out how to make this work. Why don’t we go get coffee or something and hammer out the kinks.”

“I think that is a great idea,” he replied, his tone more mocking than anything. “See? That wasn’t so hard, was it?”

You opened your mouth, seemingly to say one thing before hesitating and starting over. “Meet me next Tuesday at Java Bean at one p-m.”

Eddie grinned, smugly wondering what your reaction would be when he said his next words. Professionalism be damned.

“It’s a date.”

Your eyes widened, amusing Eddie to no end. Oh, yeah. That hit something. 

“Do you hear yourself?” you asked, nearly scoffing at him.

There were those eyes of yours, searching for something in his. As if you were both trying to find the truth behind your cement walls of defense. But you gave up first, spinning around and trudging down the hallway.

“See you Tuesday!” he called after you, smiling triumphantly when your shoulders locked up.

Oh, yeah. This would be a cake walk.

thank you to @jo-harrington for all the time she took helping me with the writing process and @littlexdeaths for always making the best dividers. i love you both so much it's hard to articulate.

[tanjamikaelson]

BEST FRIEND'S BROTHER - CHAPTER 3

MASTERLIST

CHAPTER 3: | RUMOUR |

You sat cross-legged on your bed, earbuds in, music playing softly as you replayed the events of last night in your mind. Every time you thought about Rafe, a heat crept up your cheeks. The memory of his touch lingered, the way his fingers had moved against you, sending shivers through your body. It was intoxicating, the way he made you feel—wanted, desired. You had never felt anything like it before. The thought of it stirred something inside you, something you hadn’t been able to shake all day.

You were so lost in the memory that you didn’t hear the door burst open until Sarah’s voice cut through the air like a knife. “Y/N, is it true?”

Startled, you pulled out your earbuds, eyes snapping up to meet hers. “What?” you asked, still caught between your thoughts and the sudden reality of her presence. The look on her face—disappointment, anger—hit you like a punch to the gut.

“You slept with Rafe?!” The words exploded out of her, each syllable laced with betrayal.

Your heart dropped. “No, I didn’t,” you said quickly, shaking your head, but the hurt in her eyes didn’t waver.

“Then why is everybody talking about it?” Sarah’s arms were crossed tightly over her chest, her posture defensive and hurt. She wasn’t just your best friend—she was like a sister. And now, standing there, she looked at you like she didn’t know you at all.

You took a deep breath, trying to gather your thoughts. “My ex showed up at the party,” you began, your voice steady but laced with frustration. “I told everyone what he did to me... how he cheated. And Rafe—he stepped in to protect me. My ex was jealous and started spreading rumors.”

Sarah’s expression softened, the anger fading just a bit as she processed your words. “And Rafe broke his nose,” she said, piecing together the bits of information she must have heard throughout the day.

“Yeah, he did,” you confirmed. “He didn’t let him disrespect me like that, in front of everyone.”

You could see the tension leaving her shoulders, the rigidness of her posture easing. “I guess it’s nice of Rafe to do that,” she muttered, almost begrudgingly.

A laugh bubbled up from your chest, unexpected and light. “Oh wow, I never thought I’d hear you say something nice about your brother.”

Sarah rolled her eyes but smiled, the last of the anger melting away. She sank onto the bed beside you, a sigh escaping her lips. “Hey, I didn’t say he was nice, just that what he did was.” Her tone was playful, but you could hear the undercurrent of relief.

You nodded, smiling at her. “Yeah, okay.”

But even as you joked, a small knot of guilt tightened in your chest. You hadn’t lied to Sarah, not completely. You and Rafe hadn’t slept together, but what had happened between you was still real, still intimate. And you couldn’t tell her, not yet. Maybe one day you’d find the words to explain, to make her understand, but not now. Now, the truth would only hurt her more.

“So, you want to go dress shopping tomorrow for midsummers?” Sarah asked, her voice casual, as if she was trying to push past the tension that had filled the room moments ago.

“Yeah, of course,” you replied, grateful for the change in subject, and for the opportunity to move forward.

Sarah smiled, the kind of smile that lit up her whole face, and for a moment, everything felt normal again. “Can’t wait.”

•°•°•°•°•°•

The next day, you arrived at Sarah’s house, excited for a day of dress shopping and distractions. You had spent most of the morning thinking about what you wanted to wear for the midsummer event, picturing yourself in all sorts of dresses, each one more beautiful than the last. But when you reached Sarah’s room, she wasn’t there. You called out her name, but the house was unusually quiet.

Confused, you made your way back downstairs, pausing when you saw Rafe lounging on the couch, his expression unreadable. “Hey, where’s Sarah?” you asked, trying to keep your voice light, though the disappointment of not finding your friend was creeping in.

Rafe shrugged, looking genuinely clueless. “I have no idea.”

“She told me yesterday to come so we could go shopping...” You trailed off, glancing around, wondering where she could be.

“Well, I haven’t seen her either,” Rafe said, then paused, his eyes meeting yours with an intensity that made your stomach flip. “Can we talk? Privately?”

Your heart rate picked up, but you nodded. “Yeah, what’s up?”

Without another word, Rafe stood and grabbed your hand, pulling you gently but firmly up the stairs and into his room. The door clicked shut behind you, the sound somehow final, sealing you both in. He turned to face you, his eyes searching yours, his expression serious.

“About the other night...” Rafe began, his voice careful, as if he was testing the waters. “If I made you feel uncomfortable...”

You shook your head quickly, the words tumbling out before he could finish. “No, Rafe. You didn’t.” You took a breath, trying to find the right words. “I just don’t want Sarah to know. She almost found out the truth after my ex spread that rumor.”

Rafe’s jaw tightened, his expression hardening. “I know. He got what he deserved.”

You smiled, the memory of your ex writhing on the floor, blood streaming from his nose, bringing a dark satisfaction. “He did. I loved seeing him like that.”

Rafe’s lips curved into a smirk, his eyes lighting up. He was glad you felt the same way, glad that he hadn’t overstepped. Your gaze drifted around his room, and you noticed a baby blue suit hanging on the closet door, pristine and elegant.

“Nice suit,” you remarked, nodding towards it. “Are you wearing that to midsummers?”

Rafe glanced at the suit, then back at you, nodding. “Yeah. What are you wearing?”

You shrugged, the truth still hanging in the air between you. “I don’t know yet. I was supposed to go dress shopping with Sarah...” But as you said the words, an idea sparked in your mind, a way to match, to be connected without anyone knowing.

Before you could finish the thought, Rafe closed the space between you, his presence overwhelming. You felt the door press against your back, his body inches from yours. His gaze was intense, his voice low and steady as he spoke. “So... I would like that to happen again...” His words hung in the air, charged with the memory of what had transpired between you both at Kelce’s party.

Your heart skipped a beat. You knew exactly what he was referring to, and the thought of it made heat pool in your belly. You swallowed hard, trying to keep your voice steady. “But not right now.”

Rafe cocked his head to the side, his eyes darkening with something that made your pulse quicken. “When?”

You shook your head, feeling the frustration build. “I don’t know. When Sarah’s not around.”

Rafe’s hand brushed against your arm, his touch featherlight, sending shivers down your spine. “She’s not here right now,” he reminded you, his smirk almost teasing.

“But she could come back any minute,” you countered, your voice a whisper, but filled with urgency.

Rafe sighed, the sound heavy with disappointment. “So you want us completely alone? We’re never completely alone.”

You sighed too, mirroring his frustration, feeling it thrum between you like a live wire. “I know, but we can figure something out.”

Rafe stepped back, his eyes narrowing slightly, his voice laced with annoyance. “Well, let me know when you do.” He turned away, his shoulders tense, his disappointment palpable.

You stood there, your back still pressed against the door, your heart racing. The tension between you was almost unbearable, and as he turned his back on you, a mix of emotions swirled inside you—desire, frustration, and the nagging guilt that came from keeping this secret from Sarah. You had to find a way to make this right, to figure out what you really wanted before everything spiraled out of control.

You fled from his room, your heart pounding, the walls feeling like they were closing in on you. You needed air, space—anything to clear your head. The intensity of Rafe’s gaze, the weight of his words, and the way your body responded to him had all been overwhelming. You could barely think straight as you made your way down the hallway, your mind racing with a thousand thoughts.

Rafe stood there, stunned, watching as you hurried out. He hadn’t expected you to leave like that, so abruptly, without a second glance. He felt a sharp pang in his chest, a strange mixture of frustration and confusion that he couldn’t quite place. His hands clenched into fists at his sides as he tried to process what had just happened. He hadn’t meant to push you away. Hell, he hadn’t even realized how much he wanted you to stay until he watched you walk out the door, leaving him alone with nothing but the echo of your presence. A bitter taste settled in his mouth as he replayed the last few moments over and over in his mind.

Why did you leave?

Rafe felt a surge of anger—at himself, mostly. He had been so close, so close to having you again, to feeling your warmth, to experiencing the high of being near you. The memory of the other night, the way your body had responded to his touch, was still fresh in his mind, burning like a brand against his skin. And now, standing alone in his room, he felt that heat turning into a gnawing ache. He ran a hand through his hair, exhaling sharply, trying to shake off the tension that coiled tightly in his chest. His thoughts were a chaotic mess—part of him wanted to chase after you, to drag you back into the room and make you stay until you understood how much he needed you. But another part, the one that knew he had already pushed too hard, told him to let you go, to give you the space you were clearly asking for.

Rafe’s jaw clenched as he replayed the conversation in his mind. He knew he could be intense—too intense, sometimes—but he couldn’t help it. Not when it came to you. There was something about you that drove him crazy, made him feel things he didn’t understand, things he didn’t want to admit even to himself.

He turned and punched the wall beside him, the sharp pain in his knuckles a welcome distraction from the turmoil inside his head. He didn’t know what to do with all the emotions swirling inside him—frustration, desire, a strange sense of vulnerability that he wasn’t used to feeling. You had gotten under his skin, and he didn’t know how to handle it.

Rafe let out a low, bitter laugh. He was angry—angry at himself for scaring you off, angry at the situation, angry at everything that kept him from having what he wanted. And what he wanted was you. Completely, without hesitation, without hiding.

He knew you were scared—scared of what being with him would mean, scared of how Sarah would react, scared of how this would change things between all of you. But he was scared, too, even if he’d never say it out loud. Scared of wanting you this much, scared of what it meant if you didn’t want him the same way.

Rafe stared at the door for a long moment, his chest heaving as he tried to rein in the storm of emotions crashing through him. He wanted to run after you, to pull you into his arms and tell you that he’d wait, that he’d do whatever it took to make this work. But he knew that right now, that wasn’t what you needed.

With a deep, shuddering breath, he turned away from the door, the frustration simmering under his skin like a live wire. He needed to cool off, to clear his head, to figure out how to fix this. Because he wasn’t ready to give up—not on you, not on what you could be together.

But for now, he’d have to let you go.

For now.

•°•°•°•°•°•

The warmth of sunset had started to settle over the open field, casting long shadows and soft light over everyone who had come out for the outdoor movie night. You found a spot on the grass with some friends, surrounded by laughter and the quiet hum of conversation as the film began. But as the movie dragged on, you found yourself losing interest, your thoughts drifting.

A glance around the crowd was all it took to pull you from your thoughts—you spotted Rafe a few feet away, sitting with Topper and Kelce. He didn’t look like he was enjoying the movie either, his elbow propped up on his knee, his cheek resting in his hand as he pouted at the screen. His presence seemed to fill the air around you, sending a small thrill through your chest.

You couldn’t help but notice when he eventually got up, his broad shoulders and confident stance drawing your attention like a magnet. Without really thinking, you rose to your feet and decided to follow him, weaving through the crowd.

Rafe led you around the back of the movie screen, and it didn’t take long to see what was happening. Rafe, Topper, and Kelce had cornered JJ and Pope, the tension crackling in the air. Before you could even process what was happening, punches were being thrown, and a brutal fight erupted between the kooks and pogues.

“Don’t do this, guys!” you yelled, but your voice was lost in the chaos, falling on deaf ears.

Suddenly, a flash of movement caught your eye. Kie appeared from nowhere, gripping JJ’s backpack with both hands as she swung it at Topper, landing a blow square against his back. “Let go of him, Topper! Fascist asshole!” she shouted, her voice carrying a mixture of fear and fury. Topper, unfazed, turned on her, yanking the bag out of her hands and tossing it aside as he tightened his grip on Pope.

Your gaze shifted to Rafe, who was busy landing a punch on JJ, while Kelce held him firmly, keeping him from fighting back. Kie, seeing this, leaped onto Topper’s back, clawing at him, trying desperately to pull him away from Pope.

The sight must have caught Rafe’s attention because he turned and immediately moved towards them. He grabbed Kie around the waist, pulling her off Topper effortlessly, her legs kicking out as she fought against him.

“Let go of me, Rafe!” she screamed, writhing in his grip.

“Stay out of this, Kiara. Okay?” Rafe’s voice was low, and cold, as he tossed her aside, sending her stumbling to the ground.

Your heart pounded as you watched Kie rummage through the backpack, her fingers closing around something. Your eyes widened as you realized it was a gun.

“Kie!” you called out, rushing over to grab her hand, panic filling your voice.

She looked up at you, her expression wild and unyielding, yanking her hand away. “Don’t!” she snapped, her tone sharp with desperation and anger. Then, without missing a beat, she stuffed the gun back into the bag, her hand now pulling out a lighter.

“Kie, stop!” you pleaded, but she pushed you back, her eyes blazing with a resolve you hadn’t seen in her before.

“Stop being on their side!” she shouted, her voice echoing over the scene. Without another word, she flicked the lighter and held it to the screen, setting it ablaze.

The next thing you knew, flames erupted, consuming the movie screen and casting an orange glow over the chaotic scene. It was a bold, desperate attempt to end the fight, and it worked.

The sudden blaze shocked everyone. For a moment, all movement stopped, the fire commanding everyone’s attention as it leaped and crackled against the night sky. The Kooks froze, stunned by the unexpected turn, their faces illuminated by the flames.

Rafe let out a dark laugh, the flicker of fire reflecting in his eyes. “Let’s go, Kelce,” he muttered, a hint of satisfaction in his voice. His gaze landed on you, still crouched on the ground, and his expression hardened slightly. Without hesitation, he strode over, reaching down to grab your arm, and pulling you up to your feet.

“You shouldn’t have tried to stop us,” he said, his voice laced with annoyance, though a flicker of something softer lay behind it.

“I don’t like it when there’s a fight,” you replied, brushing the dirt and grass off your clothes, but he wasn’t listening.

“They sank Topper’s boat and held a gun to his head,” Rafe explained his tone a mix of frustration and something darker. "We’re supposed to just let it slide?”

You stayed silent, knowing that arguing with him now would only make things worse. He nudged you forward, a light push urging you to start walking with him. As you moved forward, you felt his hand smack against your backside, making you stumble slightly in surprise.

When you glanced over your shoulder, he smirked, feigning innocence. "Your butt had dirt on it," he chuckled, but there was a gleam in his eye that suggested otherwise.

You rolled your eyes, but before you could respond, Rafe’s hand shot out, grabbing your arm and pulling you aside, away from prying eyes. You barely had a second to process before your back was pressed against a wall, his face inches from yours.

"Don’t roll your eyes at me," he warned, his voice low and dangerous.

"You’re annoying," you shot back, trying to mask the thrill that raced through you at his closeness.

A smirk spread across his face, his eyes gleaming with mischief. “Oh, am I?” he murmured, his voice dripping with a playful edge. “Was I also annoying when I gave you an orgasm without asking for anything in return?”

Your pulse quickened, and you struggled to keep your composure. "No. You’re just annoying now," you muttered, trying to ignore the heat pooling inside you.

Rafe’s eyes darkened, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. "You’re annoying too, you know that?"

You raised an eyebrow, intrigued. “How so?”

His face darkened slightly, the playfulness turning into something more intense. “You rejected me earlier today when I wanted something more to happen,” he said, his tone holding a hint of frustration.

“It wasn’t like that—” you started to explain, but he cut you off, his lips brushing against your ear as he spoke.

“But I bet you’d want another orgasm. wouldn’t you?” he whispered, his voice rough, sending a shiver down your spine.

Your breath caught in your throat, and for a moment, you were speechless. Unable to hold back, you nodded slightly, the admission causing a flicker of amusement in his gaze. His hand slid along your thigh, pressing just enough to make you part your legs in response. He chuckled softly, his fingers skimming over the edge of your short dress, teasing you with a touch that was both gentle and maddeningly slow.

“Is that why you’re wearing this short dress?” he murmured, his fingers brushing along the edge of your panties. “You knew I would be here.”

“Rafe—” you breathed out, your voice shaky as his touch ignited a fire inside you.

He grinned, a smug glint in his eyes as he continued teasing you, his fingers brushing against the damp fabric of your panties. “Shit. Does this turn you on?” he asked, his voice low and amused.

You bit your lip, trying to stifle the moan building in your throat. His hand shifted, moving your panties to the side, his fingers slipping through your wet folds, making you whimper.

“Are you turned on because anyone could catch us?” he questioned, his voice rough, “Or do I just have that effect on you?”

“Both,” you answered quickly, barely able to contain yourself.

Rafe let out a quiet laugh, pleased by your neediness. His fingers moved with more purpose, sliding over your sensitive skin, his touch driving you closer to the edge. You clutched at his hand, desperate for him to keep going.

“This is the last time I’m giving you an orgasm without getting one in return,” he warned, his tone dark and possessive.

Rafe’s lips found your neck, and he began to leave a trail of heated kisses, making sure to leave a mark. You clung to him, your need for him overpowering any sense of caution. His hand moved expertly, and you felt yourself melting under his touch, gasping as he continued.

"Do you ever touch yourself while thinking of me?" he murmured, his breath sending shivers down your spine.

"Yes," you admitted, barely able to form the word.

He groaned softly, his own desire evident in the way he pressed against you, his breath hot against your skin. “I’d like to see that,” he murmured, his fingers speeding up, the pressure driving you closer to the brink.

The intensity in his gaze made your cheeks flush, and you could barely meet his eyes as he looked at you, his own filled with a fierce longing. You felt your resolve crumble as he kissed your neck again, his fingers working faster. The familiar tension built in your core, your breaths coming quicker as he guided you toward the edge. When your orgasm hit, you bit down on your lip to muffle your moans, your body going limp as the pleasure overtook you.

Rafe held you steady, his grip strong, and as your legs threatened to give out, he kept you from crumpling to the ground.

TAGS: @wearemadeofstardust0 @hotch-meeeeeuppppp

[ravenrothstr]

Me and You, and The Spaces In Between

summary. Y/N takes a long vacation after a heated argument with her boss. With her career hanging by a thread, she escapes to a peaceful getaway, where she unexpectedly meets Jaehyun, unaware of his identity.

genre. idol! au. work! au. fluff

words count. 18.0k

disclaimer. the story is fully fictional. other names mentioned are just for the story and pure imagination, with no bad intentions

tags. @apolloxxivmin

-- ˚˖𓍢ִ໋`🌿:✧˚.📷⋆𖧧 --

Every day, you drift through the same grey office building, slip into your usual seat, a quiet figure lost in the current of bustling lives. Your weight is invisible but suffocating—a relentless pressure that wraps around your chest and pulls your shoulders low. Surrounded by colleagues who hardly notice you, you feel like a ghost, an echo fading in a room with louder voices.

"Good morning, sir", you greeted your boss, Mr Noh.

Unanswered, unnoticed. Like always.

The hierarchy here is an unbreakable chain, with you at the very bottom. You feel it every day, every slight glance past you, every ignored idea, every task passed down without a thought. Numbed by the countless responsibilities that serve everyone else but you.

Each day feels the same as the last, blurring into a cycle that leaves you feeling less alive. Trapped within this silent existence, you wonder if you’ve forgotten how to hope.

"Y/N, meeting", Aeri reminded you.

And once again, it feels like you woke up on the wrong side of the bed when you hear your boss call you in privately to his office.

"We're giving you some time off."

"Pardon?"

You pause, recalling the tense moment with your manager, Mr. Han, when you submitted a proposal under your own name instead of his. The argument had been fierce—no one else in the company had ever been bold enough to stand up to him like that.

--

"You know how this company operates. It’s about hierarchy and respect. This isn’t a game, Y/N. You’re fortunate to even be here. You need to understand your place," Mr. Han said, his tone looking down on you.

Finally, you looked up to meet his gaze.

"Looks like you’re lucky too, Mr. Han. If we were recognizing talent, you’d be beneath me."

--

You were confused. Why would you be receiving time off? Were they suspending you for knowing your worth and finally pointing out the mistakes in the company?

"Y/N, I suggest you take a break for a month or two. We know working in this industry, especially for women, can be challenging, with emotions and all."

Your heart sank. You understood what he meant, even if he avoided the term. You walked back to your desk to pack up your things as your coworkers began to whisper around you. You tried your best to swallow the situation, but you couldn’t help catching Mr Han out of the corner of your eye—perfectly sitting at his desk, leaning back in his chair, unsuspended and free of any disciplinary action.

What a world we live in.

--

As you walk home, your heart begins to shatter. No one ever warned you about being an adult when you were a kid. All the stories summed up life with nice things—love, happiness, hope.

Hope.

Something you haven’t felt in a long time.

The next day feels strangely different as if the world has shifted ever so slightly in the light of dawn. You’ve cried the whole night, the weight of everything finally breaking through the dam you had built within.

As the first rays of sunlight peek through your window, you reach for your laptop. The familiar device now feels like a portal to the past. You pull up old photos as a wave of nostalgia washes over you. They’re snapshots of a time when life felt more colourful, the world more open.

"I was so happy, everything was brighter", you thought to yourself.

You can almost hear the laughter and feel the warmth of those sunlit moments. You remember the promise you once made to yourself: “I’ll capture whatever makes me happy.” It was your goal, your way of finding beauty in the everyday.

As you linger on a particularly beautiful shot, quiet determination begins to bloom in your chest. In that fleeting moment of clarity, you realize what you truly need: to escape, to break free from the chains that have held you down for far too long, and to reclaim the part of yourself that has been lost in the shadows.

--

“Jeju? What’s with the random trip?” Aeri’s voice crackled through the phone as you made the call after arriving at Jeju Airport.

You paused at her response, recalling the dark moments you had faced recently. You longed to tell her how you felt like you were dying inside, but now wasn’t the time.

“Well, it’s a long story,” you replied, trying to keep your tone light, though a hint of weariness slipped through. Aeri hesitated on the other end, sensing something was off.

“Are you okay, Y/N? You sound… different.”

You glanced around the busy airport, considering her concern.

“I’ll talk about it later,” you said finally, trying to sound reassuring. “I just need some time to clear my head.”

Aeri sighed, still worried. “Alright, but take care of yourself, okay? And call me if you need anything. I’ll be here.”

“Thanks, Aeri,” you said softly.

With that, you hung up and slipped your phone back into your bag. As you stepped out of the airport, a sense of relief washed over you. Jeju was beautiful, even under the cloak of night. You couldn’t help but smile, feeling lighter already. This was exactly what you needed—a place far removed from all the chaos.

--

After checking in at your hotel, you were eager to explore, despite the late hour. Spotting a nearby bike rental station, you quickly rented one, excitement bubbling inside you as you anticipated soaking in the atmosphere of Jeju at night.

Pedalling along the quiet streets, the cool night air, and the gentle sound of waves crashing in the distance created a soothing backdrop. The moon casted a silvery light that danced on the water. You felt a surge of freedom as you rode, each pedal pushing you further away from the chaos of your life.

"Please, just let time stop. Just for a moment," you thought as you pedaled, enjoying the peacefulness around you.

But then, as you turned a corner, disaster struck. You didn’t see the other bike until it was too late, and with a loud clunk, you collided, sending both of you off balance. You stumbled to a stop, heart racing, and looked up to see a young man—his surprised expression mirroring your own.

“Oh no, I’m so sorry!” you exclaimed, rushing to check if he was alright.

He brushed himself off, standing tall with a sharp glare. His features were striking, and you could sense his annoyance, though he didn’t seem to want to dwell on it. As you both steadied your bikes, you felt the tension in the air.

“I didn’t mean to ruin your ride,” you said, feeling slightly embarrassed. “I’m really sorry. It was an accident.”

He sighed, his frustration still evident, but he seemed to be reining it in.

“Just… be careful next time,” he muttered, adjusting his bike before giving you one last look and riding off into the night.

You stood there, watching him go, your initial embarrassment shifting to frustration. This definitely wasn’t how you had pictured starting your trip. Just when you thought the encounter was over, fate had other plans.

--

The next morning, you wandered down to the hotel’s cozy café for breakfast. The rich aroma of freshly brewed coffee filled the air, mingling with the scent of warm pastries. You settled at a small table near the open terrace, enjoying the view of the sun rising over the horizon.

You began to take out your new film camera, a camera you had once promised yourself you would fill with happy encounters, but that promise had fallen by the wayside as you drowned yourself in work. Struggling to get a grip on how it functioned, you started to look through the settings when a figure walked past your table.

It was him—the guy from last night. He sat down at his own table, and as soon as he caught sight of you, he rolled his eyes dramatically, as if to say not you again. Your stomach twisted slightly, but you decided to ignore him, focusing instead on your camera.

After finishing your meal, you grabbed your camera and stepped outside, eager to immerse yourself in the beauty of Jeju. The streets were alive with colour, and you began to capture the scenes around you—lush greenery, quaint shops, and the stunning coastline.

You wandered through the local market, snapping photos of the bustling vendors and their vibrant displays of fresh produce and handmade goods. Your heart lifted with each click of the shutter, the camera becoming an extension of your desire to find joy in the small things.

As you moved deeper into the market, you caught sight of him again. He was at a stall, inspecting some fruit. You took a deep breath, reminding yourself that you didn’t need to let his presence affect your mood. Instead, you focused on capturing the essence of the market, the lively interactions, and the warmth of the people around you.

But the moment you turned your camera towards the stall he was at, he noticed you. You could see his annoyance as he shot you an incredulous look, clearly irritated that you were taking pictures in the same space. He waved his hand dismissively as if trying to shoo you away.

This time, you couldn’t help but smirk. You weren’t about to let his irritation spoil your experience. You continued to film, zooming in on the vibrant colors and lively atmosphere, reveling in your newfound freedom.

You decided to embrace the moment, letting the world around you inspire you rather than letting him dampen your spirits. It was a new day, and you were determined to make the most of it—no matter who else was in the frame.

With the sun beginning to set, casting a warm golden hue over Jeju, you decided to call it a day. You returned to your hotel room, feeling a sense of fulfilment from capturing the beauty of the island. As you entered the room, the familiar buzz of your phone interrupted your thoughts. It was your mom calling.

“Y/N! Where have you been? You need to come back home!” she scolded, her voice a mix of worry and frustration.

You close your shut eyes for a moment, wishing the situation was just a dream.

“Mom, I’m on vacation. I told you I needed some time away,” you replied, trying to keep your tone steady.

“Time away? This isn’t just a vacation! You’re running from your responsibilities! You think it’s okay to just leave everything behind?” Her words felt like a punch to the gut.

“I’m not running away. I just need a break to think,” you protested, your frustration bubbling over. “I can’t deal with everything right now.”

“You think you can just ignore your responsibilities? Your brother needs support, and you should be helping your family, not gallivanting around Jeju!” she snapped.

You clenched your fists, tears filling up your eyes resulting to you trying to suppress the anger rising within you as you ended the call. Everything felt like a mess now, and you didn’t need any additions to that.

You wanted to cry; you needed to cry.

You began to look around your room, searching for an escape. Grabbing your film camera, you decided to take a walk along the beach.

You gazed out at the vast, dark sea, wishing your life could be as calm as the ocean before you. With each soft crash, you felt your sadness slowly wash away, like footprints disappearing under the water. For a good ten minutes, you stood there, breathing deeply, letting the steady hum of the sea drown out the noise in your mind.

When you finally opened your eyes, the world felt lighter, your heart less heavy. You wiped away the last tears, determined to hide any evidence of your pain. With your camera ready, you prepared to capture this peaceful moment you wanted to hold onto.

But just as you were about to take the shot, you spotted him—the man you had bumped into earlier. You sighed, thinking, of all the places. You weren’t in the mood for another encounter.

“I knew it, you were one of them,” he said.

You tried to ignore him; you had no energy to argue.

“I’m calling the cops on you.”

“Great,” you replied, sarcasm lacing your voice.

--

“She’s a sasaeng,” the man stated, crossing his arms. “She keeps following me around, and I want to file a report.”

You felt a wave of disbelief wash over you. You both found yourselves at the police station, the atmosphere tense and awkward. He stood confidently at the desk, explaining his version of events to the officer, who listened with a raised eyebrow.

“I don’t even know you or your name. Sir, this is ridiculous,” you said.

The officer glanced between the two of you, clearly intrigued by the unfolding drama. But it was hard to believe you didn’t know him; you seemed genuine yet utterly uninterested in Jaehyun, a very famous idol.

“So, you’re saying you don’t know him?”

“Yes! I only bumped into him a few times. How does that make me a stalker?”

Jaehyun rolled his eyes. “Why are you so defensive? You’re the one who keeps showing up wherever I am.”

“I’ll just remind you that we’re on a small island,” you shot back, but the officer interrupted.

“Okay, let’s settle down. Ma’am, can you provide your name and occupation?”

You opened your mouth, ready to say, “I’m an accountant at—” but then it hit you like a cold wave. You weren't an accountant anymore; you had been suspended from your job. The reality of your situation dawned on you, and suddenly, you felt lost.

You froze in the moment, a flood of emotions swirling inside you. Who were you without your job? Had you tied solely to your work? Did you even know what you liked or disliked anymore?

With a heavy heart, you looked up at the officer, and instead of your title, you simply stated.

“Just write Y/N, unemployed.”

Jaehyun raised an eyebrow, and for the first time, his irritation seemed to fade slightly. Maybe you weren’t really a stalker; you were just here for peace of mind like he was.

You took a deep breath, trying to steady yourself to explain your side, but a part of you couldn’t shake the feeling that you were no longer the person you once claimed to be.

The incident ended with the officer clarifying that you were not a stalker, emphasizing that it was simply a misunderstanding. Jaehyun also acknowledged that you genuinely didn’t know who he was.

Ultimately, the officer concluded that both of you should avoid each other to prevent any further distress.

As you both stepped away from the desk, the tension began to dissipate. Outside, the cold evening air brushed against your skin, and an unexpected silence hung between you for a brief moment.

“I didn’t mean to cause any trouble,” Jaehyun said, his tone more conciliatory now. “It’s just… it’s hard to escape from all this sometimes.”

“Tell me about it,” you replied, letting your guard down for the first time.

He exhaled, rubbing his neck. “Look, I’m sorry. My group’s been through a lot, and trusting strangers doesn’t come easy anymore.”

“Your group… NCT?”

His expression softened, pride flickering in his eyes. “Yeah, that’s us.”

You nodded, your gaze lingering. “I get it. Caution makes sense.”

“I’m sorry, too,” you murmured.

His eyes stayed on you, gentler now as the cool night wind tousled your hair, and for a quiet, heart-stopping moment, he just looked at you.

A small smile broke across his face. “No hard feelings.”

--

The night air was calm as you fell into step beside each other, walking back toward the hotel. The silence was surprisingly comfortable, but you couldn't calm down your emotions.

Somewhere in the ease, you felt tears gather in your eyes and Jaehyun was quick to sense it as you turned your head towards the sea to avoid him.

“So…” Jaehyun began, hoping to distract you. “What brings you here, then? To Jeju?”

Quickly, you brushed away the tears on your cheek and looked up at him.

“Just… a short escape,” your voice soft and unsteady. “Work, life… everything started feeling like too much.” He listened intently, his gaze steady, as if inviting you to say more.

“I felt like I was drowning. Coming here was supposed to be my chance to breathe again. And then… well, then you happened,” you added with a faint, self-conscious smile.

A warm chuckle escaped him as he rubbed the back of his neck. “Guess I ruined that, didn’t I?”

“Maybe just a little,” you teased, your smile widening as you caught his gaze. “But I suppose I can forgive you. I must have ruined yours too.”

He shrugged, a playful glint in his eyes. “It’s alright. A night walk by the ocean seems like a pretty good way to make it up.”

You both smiled, the soft night air carrying a quiet understanding between you. A gentle breeze swept over, and he looked up at the stars, his hands in his pockets.

“You know… after so long being on stage and in front of crowds, it’s strange to be away from it all. I don’t think I’ve ever really had a chance to just… breathe. I thought I wanted this break, but now…” His voice drifted off, hesitant, as though he feared where his words might lead.

“But now?” you asked softly, inviting him to continue.

He looked at you, a vulnerability in his gaze you hadn’t seen before. “Now, I’m not even sure who I am without all of that.”

His words hung in the quiet night, and in that moment, you saw Jaehyun not as an idol but as someone searching, just like you. And suddenly, it struck you—you weren’t alone in your own struggles.

“Maybe that’s okay. Life is about figuring it out the next day-”

“After all, this is our first time living.”

His gaze softened as if the simple gesture meant more than either of you were prepared to admit. By the time you reached the hotel, the conversation had lulled into a quiet, companionable silence.

You both moved towards the elevator, standing side by side in silence. As the doors slid open, Jaehyun stepped in first, holding the door for you.

“Thanks,” you murmured, taking a step inside.

After pressing your respective floors, the elevator hummed softly as it ascended. Jaehyun glanced over at you, but you seemed lost in thought.

“Look, about earlier…” he started, unsure of how to continue, but you interrupted.

“I don’t want to make this a big deal. Let’s just keep our distance and enjoy our vacations.”

“Sure,” he replied, a bit reluctantly.

As the elevator came to a stop, the doors opened, and you stepped out, leaving a lingering tension in the air as you both went your separate ways, still unsure of what this unexpected connection meant moving forward.

--

The next morning, Jaehyun strolled down to the hotel dining area for breakfast, feeling a mix of anticipation and apprehension. As he scanned the room, he spotted you at a table in the corner, engrossed in your iPad. You seemed to be in your own world, occasionally glancing up as if lost in thought.

He hesitated for a moment, debating whether to approach you or not. Just then, you looked up and caught his gaze. A flicker of recognition crossed your face, and for a brief moment, it looked like he was about to smile. But then, you quickly stood up, gathering your things.

“Hey, it’s okay. I was just about to leave,” you said, attempting to keep your tone light.

There was an edge of awkwardness in your voice. You didn't want to impose on his space, especially after the previous night's tension.

“Wait, you don’t have to go,” he said, his words felt like they were lost in the air. Jaehyun’s heart sank as he watched you stand up.

"It's okay, I was finished anyway"

“Really, it’s fine,” he insisted, trying to sound convincing, but the sincerity in his voice didn’t seem to reach you.

As you walked away, Jaehyun’s quiet presence lingered in your mind as you stepped away, clutching your phone. Every ring from Mr Han felt like a reminder of all you’d been trying to escape from, of the life you’d left behind for a few days in search of peace. You quickly find a quiet corner where you can take the call.

“Mr. Han, I—” you started, trying to find the right words, but the frustration in your former boss’s voice cut through the line.

“Y/N, you really need to get back to me. The client is waiting!”

Heat rose in your cheeks as you tried to stay calm. “I understand, but I’m not in a position to help right now as I—” The anxiety surged, your breath growing shallow.

You couldn’t finish your sentence. Gripping the wall beside you for support, you closed your eyes, your breathing ragged as you struggled to keep yourself steady. Feeling you could drown from your cold sweats. With shaking hands, you ended the call, unable to continue.

The pressure of everything—the job you’d left, the life you’d momentarily escaped—felt like a weight pressing down. You barely noticed when you turned, and there he was, standing close, his gaze soft and filled with worry.

“Y/N?” Jaehyun’s voice was a quiet thread of concern woven into each syllable. “Are you alright?”

You let out a shaky breath, feeling the weight of everything crash down on you. The distance between you and Jaehyun felt insurmountable, but the urge to lean on him was overwhelming.

“Yes… I’m okay. I’m just trying to find balance,” you said, your voice trembling.

“Y/N, you need more than that,” he insisted.

He guided you to a nearby bench, the quiet warmth of his hand on your shoulder grounding you.

“You don’t have to explain if you don’t want to,” he said softly. “Just… breathe. Let’s sit for a minute".

For a moment, you just sat there, grateful for his quiet support.

“Thank you, Jaehyun,” you murmured, overwhelmed by his kindness.

“I’m just doing what anyone would,” he said softly, studying your face. “Are you okay now? You know, it’s alright to take a break.”

“I wish it were that easy,” you admitted, the frustration heavy in your voice.

Before you could collect your thoughts, your phone buzzed again. Another message from Mr. Han. You glanced at Jaehyun, and he looked at you with sympathy, silently acknowledging the struggle you were facing.

“I don’t think you should answer that,” he said gently.

“It’s just work. I should deal with this,” you said reluctantly, the thought of the conversation ahead making your stomach twist.

Before you took the call, you glanced at Jaehyun, fear flickering in your eyes. He offered you a reassuring smile.

“I'll be here,” he said softly.

With a heavy heart, you stepped back, torn between the connection you craved and the unrelenting demands of your reality.

--

You both walked to a small café along the coast. The atmosphere was quiet and cozy, the gentle hum of soft music wrapping around you like a warm blanket. Jaehyun went to order for both of you, reminding you of the moment he suggested it when you slipped your phone back into your pocket.

“How about we grab some coffee?” he had said, his tone warm and inviting

When he returned to the table with two steaming cups, you took a moment to really look at him. How gentle and kind he was towards you softened your heart. How lucky he loved once to receive such affirmation. His fingers linger on yours as he passes you your drink.

"Thanks", you murmured.

The silences between you are like the soft pattern of rain outside. It was as if the calmness of the café had created a peaceful bubble that allowed both of you to just be. No words were needed, just the quiet company of each other and the warmth of your coffee. After a while, you took a deep breath and broke the silence.

"Jaehyun," you started, your voice soft, your eyes still trained on the rain outside. "I’m sorry. I'm sorry about last night, about this morning-"

He looked at you, but you couldn’t meet his gaze just yet.

"I didn’t mean to cause a scene or make things uncomfortable. I'm just… not handling things well. I was so overwhelmed."

Jaehyun’s brow furrowed slightly, but he remained quiet, waiting for you to continue.

"I guess what I’m trying to say is," you hesitated, finally turning to face him, "I want to repay you for stepping in, for making sure I was okay. You didn’t have to, but you did, and I really appreciate it."

You gestured toward your plate. "So, I’m paying for this. Consider it my way of saying thank you."

"You don’t have to repay me, Y/N. I just wanted to make sure you were alright."

"But I want to," you insisted, your eyes practically pleading. "Let me do this, okay?"

Jaehyun chuckled softly, holding your gaze. "Alright, I won’t argue with free coffee."

Relief washed over you as a smile finally tugged at your lips, and he smiled back, the warmth in his eyes making everything feel lighter, easier.

"Finally," he thought to himself, glad to see your walls slowly coming down.

You and Jaehyun stepped outside the café, and the fresh scent of rain on the pavement lingered in the air. As you linger on the ambience Jaehyun notices you taking out your film camera, but you seem to struggle as you try to adjust the camera.

Jaehyun, noticing his uncertainty, tilted his head with a curious smile. "Need some help with that?"

"Yeah, I’m still getting the hang of it. Do you…?"

Without a word, he stepped closer, gently taking the camera from his hands.

"Here, I’ll show you," he said.

His fingers brushed against yours as you adjusted the settings, and you couldn’t help but feel a small flutter in your chest.

You bring the camera up to eye level as you point it toward a bright red umbrella left forgotten near the edge of a shop.

"How about something that stands out but blends in with the mood of the scene? Like that umbrella there,"

You handed the camera back to you, guiding your hands to the right angle as he stood close behind you. His presence was calming but you couldn't help feeling a tangled in your stomach.

"Focus on that,"

You took a deep breath, following his advice, and snapped the shot. The sound of the shutter felt satisfying, and as you glanced down at the preview, a small sense of accomplishment swelled in you.

"Perfect, you’ve got a good eye for this."

"You should seen my mentor," you teased, your smile widening.

He grinned, stepping back slightly, his eyes lingering on you for a moment before he turned back toward the rainy street.

"Want to take a few more? There’s plenty of stories out here, especially in the rain."

For the rest of the afternoon, the two of you wandered the quiet streets of Jeju, capturing fleeting moments—a woman pulling her scarf tighter against the breeze, raindrops collecting on a parked bicycle, and an old couple sharing an umbrella. Each moment shared between you and Jaehyun felt easy, and natural, like the rhythm of the rain.

--

You both held ice cream cones as you settled on a bench near the shore. The sun peeked through the clouds, casting a soft glow as you savored each delicious bite. Just as you took another lick of your ice cream, the clouds grew dark, and drops of rain began to fall.

“Jaehyun, we need to run!” you exclaimed cheerfully, quickly covering your ice cream with your hands.

In a rush, you both sprinted to a nearby market, trying your best to stay shaded under the roof outside. You could feel his laughter vibrating in the air as you both struggled to keep your ice cream cones from getting drenched.

As you continued to finish your ice cream, savoring the sweet flavor, you turned your gaze back to the shoreline. The ocean's sound was soothing and calming despite the downpour, creating a scene that felt straight out of a movie. Just then, you stole a glance at Jaehyun.

His laughter was infectious, and the way he scrunched up his nose while trying to protect his treat made your heart flutter. It felt like you were falling into a deeper ocean, one filled with warmth and joy.

You pulled out your camera to capture the moment. The raindrops danced on the surface of the water, creating a mesmerizing pattern.

"Just for the memories," you thought.

Jaehyun turned to you, curiosity shining in his eyes.

“So, do you take pictures as a hobby or professionally?” he asked.

“Just a hobby, actually. I don't recall having any photogenic pictures in my album,” you replied, chuckling at the thought. "I just take what makes me happy,"

"But we just spent the day capturing random moments. Regardless, they're still really beautiful to me," he defended, his gaze sincere.

"Well, it was fun for me," you said, your smile widening.

Jaehyun's expression softened, and a bright smile spread across his face, illuminating his features even in the dim light of the rainy day. There was something disarming about the way he smiled, as if the world around you faded into the background, leaving just the two of you in your own little bubble.

His enthusiasm was infectious, and you couldn't help but feel a thrill at the thought of more days like this. For the first time in so long, you found yourself eagerly waiting for the next day. The rain continued to fall around you, but it only added to the magic of the moment, making everything feel fresh and alive.

"Do you think we'll ever meet again? Somewhere not here?" you asked, a hint of vulnerability creeping into your voice.

Jaehyun’s expression shifted, becoming more serious as he stared deeply into the rain.

“I hope so,” he said slowly, turning to face you. “I really wish we could get closer, even after this vacation is over," his gaze unwavering.

His sincerity wrapped around you like a warm embrace, and for a moment, the world outside the small market felt like a distant echo. You could see the longing in his eyes, a reflection of your own feelings. The connection you’d formed felt too precious to let slip away, despite the uncertainty of what lay ahead.

“I would like that too,” you admitted, your heart pounding in your chest.

--

As the days passed, your time together seemed to fly by, each moment filled with laughter and shared secrets. But all too soon, the end of your vacation arrived, and the reality of parting ways settled heavily in the air.

You found yourself standing outside the hotel, your suitcase at your feet, the familiar buzz of the bustling streets around you fading into a dull roar. Jaehyun stood a few feet away, his hands stuffed deep into his pockets, a contemplative expression clouding his features.

“Guess this is it, huh?” he said, attempting to sound light-hearted, but the weight of the moment hung heavily between you.

“Yeah, it feels surreal,” you replied, forcing a smile despite the tightness in your chest.

You had hoped that this moment wouldn’t come, that time would stretch on indefinitely, allowing you to hold on to the connection you had formed. He took a step closer, his eyes searching yours.

“I really enjoyed our time together. It was… different, in a good way. It was nice to be around someone who didn’t see me just as Jaehyun from NCT. You reminded me of what it’s like to just be… myself.””

You nodded, feeling a bittersweet tug at your heart. “I’m glad I met you. And, I’ll always remember this time.”

A silence enveloped you both, filled only by the distant sounds of laughter and traffic. As the moments stretched, you couldn’t help but feel a void beginning to form in your heart. It was a feeling you hadn’t anticipated, one that blossomed from the realization that you had fallen for him during this brief interlude in your lives.

Jaehyun shifted, his gaze dropping to the ground before meeting your eyes again. “Come see me at my concert sometime, let's meet again,” he said, his tone hopeful.

The offer hung in the air between you—simple, yet charged with unspoken meaning. You hesitated, caught between the desire to say yes and the reality of the busy life waiting for you back home.

“I’ll think about it,”

You both lingered in the moment, neither wanting to be the first to say goodbye. Eventually, Jaehyun glanced at his phone, a reminder of his own responsibilities tugging him back.

“Take care of yourself, Y/N,” he said, his voice gentle yet firm, as if he genuinely wanted you to find peace.

“You too, Jaehyun. Don’t lose yourself in all of it,” feeling a surge of protectiveness for him.

With a final smile, you watched as he disappeared into the bustling crowd, your chest heavy yet filled with a strange sense of hope. As you made your way to the airport, you found yourself holding on to the memories of Jeju—of sunlit days, stolen glances, and quiet conversations.

Back in your own world, things quickly resumed their usual pace. Work piled up, Mr. Han’s demands didn’t ease, and the familiar pressures of life weighed on your shoulders. But every so often, you’d catch yourself replaying moments from Jeju: Jaehyun’s smile, the way his laughter echoed along the shore, the quiet understanding that had passed between you.

--

"Ah, that was a super long meeting," you sighed, leaning back in your chair and closing your eyes.

"Tell me about it," Aeri replied from her desk, looking equally drained.

Just then, the secretary approached you, holding a note in her hand. "Y/N, someone left a message asking you to call them back."

You glanced up, confused, and exchanged a quick look with Aeri, hoping for some clue. But she looked just as surprised. Hesitantly, you dialled the number, feeling a surge of anxiety as the call connected.

"Hello?"

"Yes, is this Y/N?"

"Yes, this is Y/N speaking. Can I help you?"

"I'm a staff member from SM Entertainment. Jaehyun requested a direct invitation for you to his concert…" Your heart dropped, and every word became a blur after hearing Jaehyun’s name.

You quickly looked at the calendar. Had it really been months since your trip to Jeju? The staff member kindly repeated the message, explaining that Jaehyun had arranged a ticket and backstage pass for you.

"I'm… sorry, but could I get back to you on this?" you asked, still trying to process the unexpected invitation.

"Of course," they replied. "We'll leave your name on the VIP list. If you decide to come, just let the staff know at the VIP section."

You hung up, your mind racing. You never imagined Jaehyun would follow through on his promise, let alone make it so personal. As you stared at your phone, you couldn’t help but wonder if you were ready to step back into that world—or if you even wanted to.

That evening, you had dinner with Aeri, who was as cheerful and lighthearted as always. Watching her laugh, you couldn’t bring yourself to share your concerns about Jaehyun. Somehow, her happiness felt too precious to disturb. After a moment, you decided to break the silence.

"Hey, Aeri," you began, trying to keep your voice casual. "Do you know NCT?"

"Of course, who doesn’t!" she laughed, and you could feel your nerves creeping up. But then, she added with a casual shrug, "Besides, my boyfriend’s from that group."

Your jaw dropped. "Your boyfriend is an idol?!"

She quickly shushed you, almost flipping over the table to keep you from speaking too loudly. Glancing around the restaurant, she sighed and whispered, "Yes. I didn’t mean to hide it, or that I don’t trust you. It’s just… you know, we’re kind of friends from work, and I didn't want things to get complicated."

You smiled, absorbing the surprise. Somehow, knowing she understood the complexities of dating someone in the public eye made you feel a bit less alone in your own tangled thoughts about Jaehyun’s invitation.

As the days crept closer to the concert, you continued to hold it all in, the uncertainty gnawing at you. On the evening before, you finally took a deep breath and decided to invite Aeri along. You figured her presence might ease the nerves and make it all feel a bit more normal.

"Aeri," you said, and she responded with a distracted "Hm?" without lifting her gaze from her work, so you decided to keep it short.

"I, uh… I got an invite to the NCT concert. Would you want to come with me?"

Aeri’s eyes widened in surprise and excitement, her fingers pausing on the keyboard. "Are you serious? Of course! How did you even score an invite like that?"

“Just… something that came up, you know?” you shrugged, keeping it vague.

“It’s going to be amazing! I can’t believe we’re actually going to see them perform live!”

Her enthusiasm brought a smile to your face, and, for a moment, the tension in your chest eased. With Aeri beside you, maybe facing Jaehyun again wouldn’t feel so daunting after all.

--

The night of the concert arrived, and as you stood outside the venue with Aeri, you could feel your heart racing. The bustling crowd, glowing lights, and excited chatter filled the air with an electric energy. Aeri, practically buzzing beside you, squeezed your arm as you both made your way to the VIP entrance. Her excitement was contagious, and you felt a flicker of it yourself, though nerves twisted in your stomach as you thought of the reason behind your invitation.

Inside, the venue felt even more surreal. The rows of seats stretched out like a sea, and the stage glowed with anticipation as fans filled the room. Your VIP passes led you closer than you’d imagined, right near the front, and as you settled in, you felt Aeri’s hand in yours.

“Can you believe we’re this close?” she whispered, her eyes gleaming. “We’re about to see them, live!”

The lights dimmed, and a hush fell over the crowd, followed by a collective gasp as the stage illuminated, and NCT appeared. The opening beats hit, and the whole arena seemed to come alive as the members took their places, Jaehyun among them. Your eyes drifted to him, a mix of emotions stirring as he sang, danced, and commanded the stage effortlessly. In that moment, he looked entirely different from the man you’d spent time with on Jeju—a star in every sense.

Aeri was in her element, cheering along with the crowd, and you found yourself swept up in her excitement. The concert unfolded like a dream, each song weaving between moments of high energy and softer ballads that made the arena feel intimate. As you watched Jaehyun move across the stage, your mind flickered back to all the memories you’d shared, and a pang of nostalgia washed over you.

“Isn’t this amazing?” Aeri exclaimed during a brief interlude, her face glowing.

You nodded, forcing a smile, but your heart was conflicted. This night was as exhilarating as it was overwhelming, and as Jaehyun’s gaze swept over the audience, you wondered if he’d see you and recognize you in the crowd.

The concert came to a close with an eruption of applause and cheers, the room filled with the lingering energy of excitement. As the lights brightened, Aeri was practically bouncing beside you, her excitement escalating as you both made your way to the backstage entrance.

In the waiting room, NCT members were casually chatting after the high-energy performance. When you and Aeri entered, they greeted you warmly, and Aeri, in particular, seemed over the moon. She introduced herself and excitedly complimented the members, her enthusiasm making them all laugh.

“Hey! Thanks for coming!”, Taeyong greeted.

“Hi, thank you for having us,” you responded, a little overwhelmed by how down-to-earth they were despite their star status.

They were friendly and approachable, making small talk that felt genuine rather than forced. Then, you saw him—Jaehyun, standing at the far end of the room. He hadn’t noticed you at first, busy talking with another member, but when he turned and saw you, his expression softened instantly. His eyes met yours, and he broke into that familiar smile that had haunted your thoughts since Jeju.

“You actually came,” he said, his voice tinged with a hint of disbelief and relief.

“I didn’t think I would, honestly. But here I am”, feeling your nerves flutter. “Thanks for inviting me. It’s… surreal seeing you here.”

“I’m glad you came. Really,” Jaehyun replied, his voice sincere.

“We’re actually heading to an after-party at a club nearby. You both should come! It’ll be fun!”

Aeri’s eyes lit up with enthusiasm. “Oh my gosh, we have to go! It sounds amazing!”

You felt a wave of hesitation wash over you. The idea of a club after the concert seemed exhilarating yet overwhelming.

“I’m not sure,” you said, glancing at Jaehyun, who was watching you with a hopeful expression.

Jaehyun stepped closer, his demeanour reassuring. “You’ll be with us. It’ll be a good time, I promise. Just think of it as a celebration.”

You sighed, weighing the pros and cons. The thought of missing out on an opportunity to bond with Jaehyun and Aeri made your heart sink, but the thought of the club’s atmosphere sent your anxiety into overdrive. Finally, you agree relented.

The moment you stepped inside, a wave of culture shock hit you. The atmosphere was electric, pulsating with music and vibrant lights. It was everything you had imagined but somehow more overwhelming.

"Come, stay close to me", Jaehyun grabbing your hand.

You were glad for a moment, but as all of you made it to the couch women were swooning over Jaehyun. You felt a pang of discomfort watching the attention he received; it was overwhelming for you. You kept close to Aeri, who was revelling in the excitement.

“Look at them! They’re totally obsessed!” she laughed, pointing out the fans who crowded around Jaehyun, capturing every moment on their phones.

Jaehyun, on the other hand, seemed completely unfazed by the attention. He mingled with ease, laughing and chatting while he would glance over at you occasionally.

You couldn’t help but feel lost. The club scene was so much different to your usual surroundings, and you were more aware than ever of the differences between your world and Jaehyun. As the night wore on, you tried to enjoy the night, but every laugh from the crowd felt like a reminder of your insecurities, and the joy you saw on Aeri’s face only made you feel more disconnected.

Jaehyun continued to glance your way, concern flickering across his features as he noticed your discomfort, but you couldn’t shake the feeling overwhelmed, you took a step back, needing a moment to breathe. The pulsating energy of the club felt too much, and you realized you weren’t really enjoying your time at all.

You glanced at Aeri, who was caught up in the moment, and your heart sank. You had hoped this would be a fun adventure, but instead, it was just a reminder of how far you felt from everything that was happening around you.

“Aeri, maybe we should head back? It’s getting pretty wild in here,” you suggested, trying to keep your voice steady amid the noise.

She shook her head, her eyes sparkling with excitement.

“No way! This is amazing! Just leave me for a bit; I want to enjoy this!” Aeri grinned, clearly swept up in the atmosphere.

Frustrated, you scanned the room, searching for someone to help. Just when you were about to give up, you felt a familiar presence behind you. Jaehyun appeared concerned etched across his face as he noticed the distress in yours.

“What’s wrong?” he asked, his voice cutting through the chaos.

“I can't get Aeri to leave, I'm worried about her”

Without a second thought, Jaehyun nodded, taking charge.

“I’ll help. Let’s get her home,” he said decisively. With a reassuring grip, he took your hand, weaving through the throngs of people until you found Aeri, still lost in the music.

“Aeri, it’s time to go home,” he said gently, but there was an authority in his tone that she couldn’t ignore.

As the three of you made your way out of the club, Jaehyun kept a protective arm around you, making sure you felt safe amidst the chaos. Outside, the cool night air hit your skin, a refreshing change from the stifling atmosphere inside.

“Don’t worry, I’ll make sure she gets home safely,” Jaehyun reassured you, pulling out his phone to arrange a ride for Aeri.

His attention to detail and care made your heart swell a little, reminding you how he was to you at Jeju. Once the ride was confirmed, he turned to you, concern still lingering in his gaze.

“Are you okay?”, he asked.

You nodded, feeling grateful for his support. “Thanks for stepping in,” you said softly.

With Aeri safely in the car and waving goodbye, you turned to Jaehyun, feeling the weight of the night lift slightly.

“I’m sorry for dragging you into this mess,” you said, a hint of embarrassment creeping in.

“Hey, it’s not a mess if I’m here. Let’s get you home too, alright?”, he replied, his tone light but sincere.

As you both walked to his car, you felt a flicker of connection rekindling between you. Even in the chaos, there was a comfort in knowing he had your back, and for the first time that night, you felt a sense of calm wash over you.

“So, did you have fun at the club?” he asked, glancing at you with a hint of curiosity.

You paused, considering your response. “Honestly, I prefer to sit back and enjoy quiet moments,” you admitted.

Jaehyun looked surprised but intrigued. “Really? You didn’t enjoy the excitement?”

“It felt overwhelming. I like to unwind in my own way,”

He nodded, contemplating your words. “I get that. But I just thought it would be nice to share that experience with you.”

“I appreciate that,” you said softly, your heart fluttering at the thought of him wanting to include you. “I just… prefer quieter settings.”

“Maybe I can find a balance for both of us,” he suggested with a grin. “How about I invite you to a few more gatherings? Just to see if we can make it work.”

You felt a wave of anxiety wash over you, but you reminded yourself that it couldn’t hurt to try.

"Yeah, sure"

--

Over the next few weeks, you and Aeri joined Jaehyun and his friends on special occasions at the club. The flashing lights, pulsing music, and the lively atmosphere brought a new kind of excitement to your evenings. You enjoyed the laughter, the freedom to dance, and the chance to see Jaehyun in his element. But slowly, the late nights and the constant energy began to wear on you. You felt your enthusiasm dimming with each outing.

Still, every night, when the evening wound down and people started heading home, Jaehyun was there. He would walk you to his car, his hand lightly brushing against your back in a steady, comforting gesture. He’d ask if you were alright, his gaze full of quiet concern, and he’d listen when you tried to explain the small things that felt out of sync. Yet, even with his steady presence, you couldn’t shake the weariness that came from trying to belong in a world that didn’t feel like yours.

One night, as he was driving you home after yet another club outing, you found yourself staring out the window, watching the empty streets rush by. Jaehyun glanced over, sensing your silence.

“You seem… tired,” he said gently, breaking the quiet.

You sighed, nodding. “I am. It’s fun to go out and be with everyone, but… I don’t think this is really me.”

"You don’t have to keep coming just for me, you know,” he said. “I want you to feel comfortable.”

"I know, I really do. I just starting to think if we have another connection rather than these events,"

"Y/N, of course we do. Jeju was everything to me", he firmly defended.

The silence that fell between you both was thick, filled with unspoken words and questions. You stared out the window, your heart aching with the uncertainty, the shared nights that only left you feeling more adrift.

Jaehyun seemed to sense the tension too. Instead of pressing further, he let out a soft sigh and suddenly steered the car toward a small convenience store that glowed against the quiet street.

“Come on,” he said, parking and unbuckling his seatbelt. “Let’s get some ice cream. My treat.”

You glanced over at him, a little surprised but grateful for the change of pace. “Ice cream at midnight? Are we back in Jeju?” you teased lightly, letting a small smile escape.

“Maybe,” he grinned, opening his door. “Or maybe it’s my way of slowing things down—taking us back to something simple.”

The two of you entered the store, the fluorescent lights casting a soft glow over the rows of snacks and drinks. Jaehyun led you to the freezer aisle, opening it with a mischievous glint in his eyes as he considered the options.

“You choose,” he said, stepping aside to let you take your pick.

After a brief moment of indecision, you reached for your favorite flavor, and Jaehyun grabbed one for himself. The store was empty save for the clerk, who gave you both a nod as you paid and made your way back to the car.

Sitting on the table outside, you unwrapped your ice cream in comfortable silence, the cool night air brushing against your skin. The quiet felt soothing, like the ocean breeze back in Jeju.

Jaehyun glanced over before he spoke. “I know things have been… different. And I’m sorry if I didn’t see how you were feeling sooner.”

“It’s okay. I didn’t know how to bring it up,” you admitted, taking a small bite of ice cream.

He nodded, looking down thoughtfully. “I just thought… maybe you’d see a different side of me. That maybe we’d find new memories, even if they weren’t always perfect.”

“We did,” you said softly. “But I think I just wanted a side of you that felt a little closer. More like this.”

Jaehyun’s face softened, a small smile tugging at his lips.

“Let’s keep it simple, then. The way it should be.”

You nodded, feeling a warmth spread through you. And in that quiet moment under the stars, with only the hum of the city around you, you both found a new kind of connection that felt real, like the kind that would last even when the music faded.

--

"So, why don’t you take photos of people?" Jaehyun asked over dinner that evening.

He had invited you to his place, a rare occasion given both of your busy schedules—especially with him working on his solo album. These days, it felt like you hardly saw each other, but recently, he’d been reaching out more.

More than a friend would.

You flipped through the faded photos of Jeju scattered on the table, both of you reminiscing about the quiet beauty captured in each frame.

“Sometimes, the happiness we see in people is just a mask hiding what they’re really feeling,” you explained softly. “I thought I’d rather respect that.”

Jaehyun nodded thoughtfully, his gaze shifting back to you.

“So, are you masking something now?” he asked, a playful glint in his eyes.

“Yes, yes I am,” you replied with a grin.

“Are you going to be honest and tell me?”

“Nope, I’m keeping you guessing.”

“Unbelievable,” he muttered, chuckling as he shook his head.

You looked at his vintage Polaroid camera, an idea forming.

“Alright, how about this?” you proposed. “Let’s take a picture of each other and exchange them. I’ll write my true feelings on your photo, and you’ll do the same on mine. But there’s one rule: we only give the photos back when we’re ready to reveal what we really feel. Deal?”

Jaehyun looked at you, captivated by the idea. He was so absorbed in your words that he took a moment to respond.

“Deal.”

You both took turns photographing each other, trying to hide your shyness by laughing and teasing. When it was Jaehyun’s turn to photograph you, he held up the Polaroid, his gaze warm and intent.

“Alright, turn a little to the left,” he instructed, his voice soft but focused. “Now, smile.”

You followed his direction, feeling a bit silly under his careful watch. The camera clicked, capturing the moment, but he didn’t lower it just yet.

“That’s perfect,” he murmured, a faint smile playing on his lips. “You look… beautiful.”

Your cheeks warmed at his compliment.

“Let me see!” you demanded with a playful grin as the photo developed.

When it was your turn to photograph him, Jaehyun relaxed into the moment, and you couldn’t resist teasing him a bit.

“Tilt your head just a bit,” you instructed. “Now, give me that serious look you do on stage.”

He smirked but complied, trying to keep his expression neutral, though the hint of a smile broke through. You clicked the shutter, capturing the side of him that felt both familiar and new. When the photos finished developing, you handed his picture back to him with a grin.

“Take a look at yours! Before it officially becomes mine,” you teased, your eyes gleaming with amusement. “You look really good. I’m lucky to have this picture.”

Jaehyun’s heart skipped a beat at your words, charmed by your cheerful excitement. He couldn’t help but find you adorable.

You each wrote down your true feelings on the photos, not knowing what the other had written. You both tucked the photos away, holding onto them as though they held something precious.

--

As you step out of the office building, your phone rings. Jaehyun’s name appears on the screen, and despite your exhaustion, a smile lights up your face.

“Hello, Jaehyun.”

“Hey, Y/N. Where are you now?”

“I just finished work—”

“I have something to tell you, and I wanted you to be the first to know,” he interrupts, his tone urgent. You freeze at the sudden seriousness, sensing that something might be wrong.

“Okay… go ahead. I’m listening.”

You can almost picture him on the other end, catching his breath, trying to steady himself before speaking.

“There’s this producer—someone really skilled, who could be a huge help for my new music project. He’s interested in working with me,” Jaehyun says, his excitement barely contained.

“But?” you prompt, sensing there’s more.

“But the catch is… he’s only available tonight, and he wants to meet at a club.”

You feel a twinge of discomfort. In your mind, nothing good ever seems to come from such meetings, but you remind yourself that this is Jaehyun’s career. You’re not fully familiar with the music industry, so you want to hear him out before passing any judgment.

“I wanted you to be the first to know. And… to make sure you’re okay with it,” he adds softly. “I don’t want to do something you wouldn’t like.”

You pause, giving his words careful thought. Of course, you want Jaehyun to succeed and have every opportunity he deserves. But the idea of him going to a club, especially for a meeting, doesn’t sit well with you. Yet, you don’t want to be the one to hold him back.

“Jaehyun, I’m probably the last person you should be asking for… permission. I don’t know enough about your industry to judge.”

“I know,” he replies quickly. “But I just really wanted to share this with you. It means a lot to me.” There’s a vulnerability in his voice that tugs at your heart. “Come with me?”

“No,” you say gently. “This is something you need to handle on your own. I don’t want to be a distraction.”

“You’re never a distraction, Y/N,” he insists. Then, after a pause, he adds, “I’ve heard… things about this producer. That he has a reputation in clubs, especially with… girls. So, please, come with me. I don’t want any misunderstandings between us.”

You sigh, the weight of his request settling over you, knowing he wants you there as his anchor, as the one he trusts most.

After a pause, you finally agree to go with him. Jaehyun breathes a sigh of relief, thanking you over and over. Before you know it, he’s already arranging a driver to pick you up, wanting to make things as easy as possible.

When you arrive at the club, the noise, the flashing lights, and the press of bodies instantly overwhelm you. The crowd is thick, and you feel almost invisible as you enter. To everyone here, you’re just another face in the crowd, a nobody. Your eyes immediately scan the room until they land on Jaehyun, not far from where you are, deep in conversation with the producer.

Not wanting to intrude on his discussion, you make your way to the bar, ordering a drink, hoping it will settle your nerves. As you wait, you can’t help but overhear a few girls nearby, chatting animatedly about Jaehyun. You glance over, noticing their eyes are all trained on him.

“That’s Jaehyun, right? The one talking to the boss?” one of them says, her voice full of admiration.

“Yeah. He’s even more handsome in person,” another girl adds, twirling her hair. “And now that he’s connected? Total package.”

A sinking feeling settles in your chest as you realize these girls are part of the producer’s entourage—or perhaps for his amusement. Their conversation softens as they discuss “getting called in” to meet Jaehyun, clearly viewing him as the next big opportunity.

It doesn’t sit well with you, the way they’re admiring him only because of his rising reputation. They don’t see the Jaehyun you know—the one who spends late nights perfecting lyrics, who pours his heart into every melody. To them, he’s just the latest shiny thing, a stepping stone for their own ambitions.

For a moment, you feel an urge to step in, to somehow defend him, to tell them he’s worth so much more than shallow admiration. But you take a deep breath, reminding yourself that you’re here for him, not to let your insecurities get the best of you.

Finishing his conversation with the producer, Jaehyun glances around and his eyes light up when he spots you. His face breaks into a warm smile that melts away any remaining doubt you had about being here.

“Hey,” he says, his voice soft but full of warmth. “Thanks for coming. Really. It means a lot.”

“Of course,” you reply, smiling back at him. “I’m here for you.”

You both linger in a shared silence, the pounding music and chaos of the club fading into the background as you lock eyes. In this moment, it feels like you’re the only two people in the room.

“So, how did it go?” you finally ask, breaking the silence.

“I think it went well,” he says, unable to hide the pride in his smile. “But I don’t want to get ahead of myself.”

“A little confidence never hurt anyone,” you tease lightly.

Jaehyun laughs, rubbing the back of his neck.

“Maybe. Having you here makes everything better, like… I’m doing something right.”

Your heart felt like it had taken a hit, an arrow striking somewhere deep. You wanted to tell Jaehyun that the whole scene felt wrong from the start, that it made you uneasy. But seeing him genuinely happy, glowing with the promise of new opportunities, softened the edge of your discomfort. Maybe, for him, it was worth it.

Just then, the group of girls who had been watching him earlier made their way over, flashing practiced smiles.

“Hey, Jaehyun, right? We work with the producer,” one of them said, her voice dripping with charm.

Without hesitation, they closed in around him, the leader of the group resting a hand lightly on his arm.

You took a step back, feeling like an outsider in a place you never wanted to be, as Jaehyun exchanged polite words with the girls. But soon, their interactions became more forward—laughter too loud, hands lingering on his shoulder, his back, brushing against him as if they couldn’t resist touching him.

More girls nearby started to notice, whispering excitedly, “Isn’t that Jaehyun? I heard he’s working with the producer now.”

Their voices were filled with admiration and a hungry curiosity—the kind that surfaced only when someone had something others wanted. Slowly, more of them drifted over, until Jaehyun was nearly surrounded, their hands reaching out as if he were some prize. One girl even handed him her phone, asking for his number under the pretense of “future projects.” Jaehyun, always polite, tried to decline without offending her, but the group was insistent, treating him like a trophy.

A knot tightened in your stomach. It hurt more than you wanted to admit, watching them admire him for all the wrong reasons. And he, standing at the center of it all, looked caught off guard but also resigned, as if he’d been here before—surrounded by people who only saw his status.

Watching this unfold tore at you, and before you knew it, you turned and started to walk away from the loud party. The instant Jaehyun noticed, his expression shifted to concern. He excused himself from the throng of girls and quickly made his way over to you.

"Y/N, wait!" he called, gently grabbing your wrist. "What’s wrong? Talk to me."

"Everything, Jaehyun," you replied, voice tight. "You’re at the center of it all, surrounded by people who only see you as a symbol of power and connections. It just feels… wrong."

Jaehyun furrowed his brows, clearly caught off guard.

"I didn’t ask for this, Y/N," he said defensively. "I’m not trying to play some 'manly' role. This is just work—I told you. These girls work with the producer. I can't just push them away."

“Well, if this is part of your work, then maybe you don’t need me around,” you replied, trying to walk away again, but he tightened his grip on your wrist.

“Y/N, you’re being unreasonable now,” he said, frustration seeping into his tone.

You looked up, eyes fierce. “Maybe I am, Jaehyun, but that’s the problem. Men like you get placed on a pedestal, while women who speak out—women like me—get labeled as ‘too much.’ You may not see it, but this whole scene reinforces everything I stand against.”

A flash of offense crossed his face.

“So what am I supposed to do? Stop living my life because you don’t agree with how it looks? I’m not doing anything wrong, Y/N.”

“But you’re not doing anything either,” you replied, disappointment clear in your voice. “I guess this is where we clash, Jaehyun. I can’t accept this part of your life.”

You lowered your gaze, your heart aching with the weight of leaving him, but deep down, you felt he wasn’t fighting for anything real. His voice shook as he processed your words.

“So what now? Are you ending this over something I didn’t even know was an issue?”

“I can’t pretend it doesn’t bother me—just like it bothered you when you thought I was intruding on your privacy.”

Jaehyun looked down, the weight of the situation crashing over him. He seemed crushed, the reality of losing you sinking in.

“Do you… hate me?” he asked softly, his voice laden with sadness.

You felt the ache in his words, but you both needed this moment of honesty.

“Jaehyun, I could never hate you,” you replied, tears brimming in your eyes. “And that’s why this matters so much to me. I’m sorry, Jaehyun, but I have to go.”

You pulled away, leaving him standing there, alone in the crowd, as you walked out into the night. Leaving Jaehyun standing alone in the cold night air. A part of you wished he’d have reached out, tried to hold onto you—but the reality was stark and unyielding. With each step, your tears fell harder, the painful truth settling in: he wasn’t the kind of person who would fight to keep you.

Walking away, you pulled out your phone and dialed Aeri’s number.

“Aeri? Can you pick me up? Please, I can’t stand this anymore,” you choked out, voice thick with emotion.

But as your steps slowed, the realization hit: no one was coming right away. You tried to locate a nearby bus stop or a taxi, but you were unfamiliar with the area, so used to going everywhere with Jaehyun by your side. The weight of it all settled on your shoulders, and just as you were about to lose hope, you accidentally collided with someone.

“I’m sorry,” you mumbled, bowing your head, trying to hide your tear-streaked face.

“Oh, aren’t you Y/N? Are you okay?” you looked up to find Jeno standing before you, a mixture of concern and surprise on his face.

“Are you—” you stammered, wiping your tears with the back of your hand. “Jeno?”

“Yeah, Aeri sent me to pick you up instead. She said you needed it,” he replied, glancing back toward the club before focusing on you again. “What happened?”

You let out a sigh, feeling the familiar knot tighten in your chest. “It’s complicated.”

Jeno’s brows knitted together, a genuine empathy in his expression. But sensing your reluctance, he didn’t press further.

“Come on, let’s get you out of here,” he offered softly. “You don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to. Aeri’s worried.”

Grateful for his calm presence, you nodded and followed him to his car, parked under the dim glow of the streetlights.

As he drove, Jeno glanced at you, his tone gentle but thoughtful. “If you need to talk about it… I know a bit about you and Jaehyun.”

You managed a small smile. “Aeri filled you in, huh?”

He nodded, smiling back. “Jaehyun can be… a lot sometimes.”

Looking out the window at the passing lights, you swallowed the lump in your throat. “We fought. Over something that just… doesn’t seem to matter to him.”

Jeno’s expression softened.

“If it matters to you, then it’s worth something. When someone’s in the spotlight like he is, sometimes it takes a while for them to understand the impact of their actions.” He looked at you, a steady reassurance in his eyes.

“Give it time. If he truly cares, he’ll come to see why it’s important to you. You deserve someone who’ll stand by what you believe in.”

“Thanks, Jeno,” you whispered, grateful for his steady support.

--

“Y/N, can you help me with this?” your colleague asked, passing over yet another project folder.

“Sure, just put it aside with the other folders,”

You barely look up as you tried to focus on the spreadsheet in front of you. Each day new assignment seemed to pile higher on your desk. Regardless, you still work like crazy to the point it seems like you wanted the pile of work.

Aeri hovered nearby, her expression laced with concern. “Are you… okay?” she asked gently.

“Yeah, I’m okay. Just getting things done before audit season.”

“That’s it, y/n. It’s not even the audit season yet, you should take it slow. You’ll be worn out before the audit season”

You just scoof her off, saying you’re not the type to get tired easily. But as she walked away, you felt the weight of it all pressing down. Taking a deep breath, you glanced at your phone, but the screen remained empty.

That night, you decided to take a break and invited Aeri over to your apartment for drinks. She arrived with her boyfriend, Jeno, who brought along a few snacks and his usual easygoing smile. The three of you settled around the living room, drinks in hand, with laughter filling the space as the night went on.

You’ve been trying to keep up with Aeri teasing Jeno and revealing funny stories from the office, sipping from your glass and smiling at the right moments, but your mind kept wandering off. At one point, Aeri gave you a knowing look.

“Hey, are you really okay?” she asked, nudging you.

“Yeah, just… you know, work’s been a lot lately. I’m probably just exhausted.”

“I told you, you would run out energy before the audit. You should be more gentle to yourself”,

You looked into the can of beer in your hand, it was empty. Somehow it reminded you how you’ve been feeling lately, despite the tons of work.

“I should have. I thought the load if work would fill up my mind, my time. But now, I don’t feel anything”,

Aeri and Jeno was suprised at your confession. You had always seem to have your life together, she wasn’t expecting you to rant out just like.

“Y/N”, Jeno unsure of how to address the situation. “Hm, are you— hm— drunk? Should we call it a night?”

You chuckled, how miserable you have been trying to maintain the image of indepent woman that now you were unsure do people that you seriously when your not mentally unstable.

“I must be a bit tipsy—“,

“Your waiting for him, aren’t you?”, Aeri interrupted, which took you by suprises. “I can tell by how happy you are with him”

Your eyes slowly turn into glass without you realising as Aeri continue.

“That now, when he left, he took it with him”,

You slowly look at her. Aeri had always been cheerful, lifting up the mood that she might seem immature sometimes. But in the moment, you realise that she must have been masking her pain.

Just like how all of us have been doing.

“Yes, and I’m missing him too much”.

Aeri slowly scotch closer to you, wrapping her arms around you.

“It’s okay, y/n. You don’t need to tough it out for now. There’s nothing wrong about it”, as she whisper to you while embracing you.

Her words cracked something inside you. A tear slid down your cheek before you could stop it. You finally let the tears flow, the concern and understanding in her words made realized she’d noticed everything you thought you’d hidden.

Aeri wraps her arms tighter around you. Just like you, she had her own struggles masked by smiles and laughter, and for the first time, you both let yourselves be vulnerable together, acknowledging the pain you’d all been carrying alone. Jeno placed a comforting hand on your shoulder, saying nothing, letting you both just be.

—

Unlike you, Jaehyun headed to the club that night, on his way to meet the producer to discuss new ideas for his songs. He had been working with the producer for a few weeks now, and while Jaehyun appreciated the producer's vision and creativity, he was growing impatient with the slow progress. It didn’t help that the producer seemed wrapped up in the nightlife scene, filling his evenings with club activities that left Jaehyun restless, wishing he could focus solely on the music instead.

Just like you, he was starting to feel worn out.

“Hey, Haeun,” Jaehyun greeted a woman who had approached him early on, soon after hearing he’d be collaborating with the producer.

She smiled back, a faint, knowing look in her eyes. After weeks of politely declining advances from the women who had initially surrounded him, the interest had mostly faded. One by one, they’d lost interest, sensing that Jaehyun wasn’t interested in mixing business with pleasure—or perhaps realizing his connection with the producer wasn’t as social as they’d hoped.

“Looking for the producer?” she asked casually.

“Yeah.” Jaehyun ordered a drink, taking a sip as he looked around. “Do you know where he is?”

“Oh, you know him,” she replied, sliding her hand subtly onto his lap. “He’s probably just handling some ‘work’ stuff. He’ll be here in a minute.”

Jaehyun resisted the urge to pull away, the casual touch a reminder of how he’d been drawn into this world—a place he never truly fit into. His mind drifted back to a different kind of night, quieter and far from the flashing lights and unfamiliar faces. And as much as he tried to forget.

His mind drifted to you.

Jaehyun gently removed Haeun's hand from his lap, hoping to diffuse the situation without causing a scene.

"Sorry, Haeun, but I’m just here to talk business." he said, keeping his voice calm,"

Her smile faltered, her expression twisting with embarrassment and irritation. She leaned closer, her voice dropping to a challenging tone.

“Oh, come on, Jaehyun,” she said, her tone laced with annoyance. “You’re really just here to work? Don’t act so above it all.”

When he didn’t respond, she moved in even closer, pressing herself against him as though determined to wear down his resistance. Jaehyun felt his patience thinning; he pushed her gently but firmly aside, realizing that his polite refusals weren’t going to get through to her.

“Look, Haeun,” he said, keeping his voice steady but his tone sharp, “I meant what I said. I’m not interested.”

The flash of anger in her eyes was unmistakable, her pride clearly bruised.

“You think you’re better than everyone here?” she sneered, her voice loud enough to draw a few curious glances from nearby. “Or are you just here to use the producer and then leave, like none of us matter?”

Jaehyun took a deep breath, steadying his frustration. He missed you—missed the clarity and grounding you brought, and for a split second, he felt the sting of how right you’d been about all of this.

“I’m here for my music,” he replied, his tone measured and cool. “If you don’t get that, it’s best you leave me alone.”

Without another glance, Jaehyun turned and made his way out of the club, distancing himself from her and the crowd. He could feel the weight of their stares trailing behind him, but he kept his gaze forward. The entire encounter had left him feeling hollow, revealing the shallow undercurrents he’d ignored for too long.

Outside, under the quiet stretch of the night sky, Jaehyun searched for solace in the calm after the chaos. He pulled out his phone, his thumb hesitating over your contact. He wanted to call you, to hear your voice and find comfort in the familiarity he’d pushed away. For a long moment, he debated it, the thought lingering like a lifeline in the silence.

But his pride held him back. He’d already felt it bruised enough tonight, and the painful reminder of the distance he’d let grow between you weighed heavy on his heart—a reminder of what he’d lost and what he might never get back.

--

Jaehyun wandered to a street bar near his place, settling into a quiet corner with a bottle and a glass. The night air was thick with the hum of city life, a familiar background to his quiet unraveling. He glanced at his phone, fingers hovering over a message he’d hesitated to send for too long.

With a steadying breath, he finally typed to the producer:

I don’t think this is working out. I’ll need to step back from our project.

He hit send, feeling the release like a drop off a tightrope, his resolve firm. He poured himself another drink, the burn of the alcohol both grounding and numbing.

His hands went through his hair. In the moments of disp, his mind went too much on you. Thinking how much he need your warmth from the silence.

He lifted his head from the glass just as he noticed a familiar face across the bar, one that brought an instant sense of nostalgia.

“Jaehyun?” The voice was warm and surprised, and when he looked up, he was met with the wide grin of an old high school friend, Minseok.

“oh— minseok ah!”, they both of them reach out for a handshake as they bump their chest together.

“what are your doing here alone?”

“just trying to drain day the day. how about you?”,

“why are you doing it alone? you should drink it some, let’s drink together”,

They bith laughed as Minseok sat down with Jaehyun. They quickly catch up and laughing over shared memories. The comfort of familiarity soothed some of Jaehyun's earlier bitterness, and as the drinks flowed.

“So what are you up to now? The last time we talked, you were in SNU doing music”, Jaehyun asked.

“Well,” Minseok replied with a small smile, “I’ve started producing now. If you’re looking for someone to work with, I’d be honored to work with you.”

Jaehyun’s eyes widened. “You’re producing now?”

“Yeah, Ive been producing for quite some time now”,

Eventually, Jaehyun shared what had been weighing on him—the fallout with the producer, the frustrations of the past few weeks, and how he felt he was losing himself in the industry.

Minseok nodded, sympathy in his gaze.

“I get it. It happens you know? Sometimes, people even forget why they’re doing what they love in the first place.”

Jaehyun sighed, swirling his drink.

“Yeah, I just didn’t expect it to feel this empty”.

“Well, come to my studio” Minseok replied with pouring into his glass, “maybe I can help.”

“Well, come to my studio,” Minseok replied, pouring another drink. “Maybe I can help.”

A spark of hope flickered in Jaehyun's chest, something he hadn't felt in ages—something he had lost in the sterile demands of his previous producer.

“I’d actually like that… a lot.”

--

The next few weeks passed in a blur. Jaehyun threw himself into his music, each day dissolving into the next as he filled the empty hours with endless melodies and late-night recording sessions. Minseok’s studio became his second home, its walls absorbing every failed attempt, every breakthrough, and every quiet moment of doubt.

One evening, Jaehyun headed to the company building for a round of final checks on his solo album. His body was tired, but his mind was relentlessly driven. As he walked past the studios, he nearly bumped into Jeno, who looked like he was the last one out after practice. Jaehyun’s face lit up, grateful for the unexpected company and a break from his own thoughts.

"Hyung!" Jeno greeted with a wide grin, pulling him into a quick hug. "Are you here working on your solo album?"

"Yeah," Jaehyun replied with a tired smile. "Just wrapping things up, trying to balance it with the group’s schedule."

Jeno chuckled, nodding knowingly.

"Sounds like you’re living in the studio these days."

"Yeah… but my friend's been helping a lot."

"That’s good. You could use the support."

Jaehyun hesitated, rubbing the back of his neck. Finally, he broke the silence.

"Hey, Jeno… have you seen Y/N around lately?"

Here’s an enhanced and corrected version:

There was no hiding the fact that Jeno was the one who took you home that night. When news broke of him being spotted with a woman in his car, rumours quickly started to swirl. Although SM Entertainment promptly cleared things up, stating that Jeno was simply helping out a friend, the speculation had already spread far and wide.

Jeno’s expression softened. He knew this question would come sooner or later.

"We hung out a few nights ago," he said, choosing his words carefully. "She’s… well, she’s been busy with work. The overtime's wearing her down a bit."

"That's good to know", Jaehyun's shoulders relaxed slightly, but there was a flicker of something else—regret, maybe.

Thoughts of you had crept into his mind more than he wanted to admit, but he still felt the weight of their last encounter at the club. The harsh words exchanged, her disappointment in him—it all lingered, making it hard to reach out.

"She's changed a bit," Jeno continued, his tone gentle. "But she's still Y/N… maybe just a little more guarded."

Jaehyun looked away, clenching his jaw. He hadn’t reached out, and not for lack of wanting to. After the fight, he couldn’t shake the feeling that maybe she didn’t want to see him anymore, that maybe he’d crossed a line that couldn’t be erased.

"Hyung, you should reach out to her. I think she’s waiting for you, even if she wouldn’t say it."

Jaehyun’s chest tightened, a surge of longing mixed with uncertainty. The thought of her waiting gave him a sliver of hope, but the memory of her disappointment held him back.

“Maybe…” Jaehyun murmured, half to himself.

But he knew he’d have to decide soon—before the silence between them became a wall neither could cross.

Jaehyun’s thoughts churned as he walked back to his car, Jeno’s words echoing in his mind: "I think she’s waiting for you." He replayed the last fight in his head—the hurt in your eyes, the way you turned and walked away, and the silence that had followed ever since. Every part of him wanted to see you, but his pride and guilt had held him back. Still, the hope that you might be waiting was enough to push him forward.

Before he could talk himself out of it, he decided he couldn’t go another day without seeing you.

—

Exhausted from another late night at the office, you stepped out into the chilly evening air, adjusting your bag on your shoulder. Fatigue clung to you, making every step feel heavier. All you wanted was to go home and collapse into bed.

But as you descended the office steps, a familiar figure caught your eye—Jaehyun.

The sight of him only reignited the simmering anger you'd been trying to bury since your last argument. Without a second glance, you walked right past him, clutching your bag tightly. He blinked, briefly thrown off, before quickly following you, trying to keep pace.

"Y/N… can we talk?" he called, his voice almost pleading.

"We have nothing to talk about, Jaehyun," you replied, your gaze fixed straight ahead.

"Please… I need you to listen to me," he insisted, desperation edging into his tone.

"I already got your message, Jaehyun."

He frowned, confusion flashing across his face.

"What message, Y/N? I never even reached out to you yet."

"Exactly," you shot back, bitterness lacing your words. You stopped abruptly, finally turning to look at him, eyes cold. "No reply is a reply, don’t you get it?"

He fell silent, visibly taken aback by the weight of your words. You could see the hurt flicker across his face, but you refused to let it soften your resolve.

"Since when did you start seeing silence as a bad sign for us?" he murmured, searching your face. "We’ve shared so many moments in silence… yet I always felt connected to you. I thought you understood that."

You shook your head, feeling the frustration bubble over. "This is different, Jaehyun. You don’t understand—"

"Then make me understand!" he interrupted, his voice rising with urgency. "Let me in, Y/N. I know I should’ve reached out, and I'm trying to make up for it now. I was caught up with my schedule, the solo album, everything… but that’s not an excuse."

He took a shaky breath, his shoulders sagging.

"I'm just… shocked that my silence hurt you this much. I got so used to feeling your love, even in quiet moments, that I took it for granted. I thought you knew how much you mean to me without me having to say it."

You stood there, caught between shock and confusion, unsure whether to feel angry or softened by his words. He looked down, his gaze falling to the ground, as if ashamed.

"Jaehyun," you started slowly, "I think… I think I’m a bit lost, too."

He squeezed his eyes shut for a brief moment, before looking back up at you, a flicker of vulnerability in his gaze.

"I like you, Y/N. I really do. And the thought of living without you… I don’t think I can do it anymore."

The raw honesty in his words left you speechless, your emotions tangled in a knot you couldn’t quite unravel. Your mind and heart seemed to be waging a silent war, each pulling you in a different direction.

"Jaehyun," you finally whispered, barely able to find your voice. "I… I can't give you an answer right now."

He nodded slowly.

"I understand. And that's okay. Really. You can keep living your life, just as you are. But… if you ever find your way back to me along the way, I'll be here, waiting."

The two of you held each other's gaze, a shared softness settling over the tension. For a moment, it felt like the world had quieted around you, leaving just the fragile connection lingering between you. After a beat, he spoke again, his voice gentle.

"Let's have dinner together. I can’t bear seeing you like this. Let me at least make sure you’re okay tonight."

You hesitated, but the sincerity in his eyes made it hard to refuse.

A short while later, you found yourselves seated at a quiet, tucked-away street bar. The dim lighting cast a soft, golden glow over the tables, creating a small bubble of warmth around you both. As you sat across from him, waiting for your food, an awkward silence settled between you.

“Thank you,” he finally said, breaking the silence. “For agreeing to this. I know things have been… complicated.”

“It’s just dinner, Jaehyun,” you murmured, but even as you said it, you both knew it was more than that.

“I know. But it’s been a while since we’ve done this—just sat together. I missed it.”, you stared at him, disbelief crossing your face.

"So, what made you finally reach out to me?"

The question seemed to catch him off guard. He shifted, his fingers tracing patterns on the table, clearly thrown by your directness. But you held his gaze, waiting, wanting nothing but the truth. Finally, he exhaled, as if releasing a breath he’d been holding for too long.

"Jeno told me about you," he admitted, his voice low.

Your eyes narrowed slightly, a mix of curiosity and surprise tugging at you. "What did he say?"

"He told me how you’ve been working late, how you've become more reserved, and… how you were hurting. And I knew I couldn’t just sit by and let that happen—not when I’m part of the reason."

His words hung heavy in the air, raw and unfiltered. For the first time, you saw a flicker of vulnerability in him, a glimpse of the struggle he’d been hiding beneath the image he showed to the world. You took a slow, deep breath, feeling a pang in your chest as you watched him.

"At first, I questioned everything you said during the argument, and I let my ego get in the way. I didn’t want to admit that maybe… maybe I was the one who let things get this far. I thought… maybe you’d be better off without me."

The honesty in his voice chipped away at something inside you, softening the wall you'd built around your heart, brick by brick. After a quiet moment, he spoke up again, even softer.

“I’ve missed you, Y/N. More than I realized, honestly.”

The sincerity in his eyes held you there, and for a brief moment, the walls you’d built around yourself began to soften. Just then, the waiter arrived with your drinks, placing them carefully on the table before slipping away. You took a small sip, feeling the warmth of the drink calm some of the tension lingering between you.

"Jaehyun," you began softly, choosing your words carefully. "I really like you. I like you a lot, maybe even more than I should," you confessed, and you saw his eyes light up, a flicker of hope sparking within him. But you quickly continued, grounding him.

"But I can't just jump into your arms because of that. Not when there's still a part of you—something in you—that I’m struggling to accept."

Jaehyun listened intently, his gaze unwavering, absorbing every word with an intensity that made your heart ache. He nodded, acknowledging the weight of what you were saying.

"I need time," you said, your voice barely above a whisper. "Time to think this through carefully, to be sure that I can handle everything that comes with loving you."

He took a deep breath, his expression softening with understanding. "I respect that. Take all the time you need. Just… let me show you that I can be better, that I can be someone worth waiting for."

The sincerity in his promise warmed something deep within you, a small glimmer of hope settling in your chest.

"Let's do that".

--

After that night, Jaehyun took your words to heart. He didn’t push or demand more than you were ready to give; instead, he let his actions do the talking. He slowly made his presence a comforting constant in your life. Despite the walls you’d built around your heart, you felt them weakening.

He started with the small things. He’d text you after your long workdays, asking how you were holding up or sharing a lighthearted story to lift your spirits. Occasionally, he’d wait for you outside your office building after a hectic day, bringing you to a nearby café or restaurant, where you’d chat about work, life, and everything in between over the meal. He’d simply sit and listen, his attention fully focused on you, as though you were the center of his world. In those moments, you felt truly loved.

But then came the grander gestures—the ones that truly took you by surprise and reminded you just how serious he was about making up for lost time.

On one of his overseas trips, he sent you a carefully wrapped package. Inside was a small, hand-carved music box with a delicate melody that played when you turned the handle. Alongside it was a note in his familiar handwriting.

“For when I can’t be there in person, I hope this brings you a bit of comfort. - Jaehyun”

The small gift warmed your heart, and you could almost picture him browsing through shops, trying to find something that would mean something to you. As the days passed, you found yourself reaching for the music box on nights when you missed him more than you wanted to admit.

One evening, he invited you out to dinner, insisting it was just a casual meal. But when you arrived, you realized he’d gone out of his way to reserve a table at a restaurant you’d mentioned in passing, one you’d wanted to visit for ages. The thoughtfulness behind each gesture made it clear—he was listening, paying attention to the details you sometimes didn’t even remember sharing.

After dinner, the night felt lighter, as though a fragile peace had settled between you. As you both walked out of the restaurant, Jaehyun glanced at you, his expression hopeful but cautious.

“Would you… like to come over?” he asked softly. “I could show you some of the tracks from the album.”

“Sure,” you replied with a gentle smile.

He led you to his place, a quiet but cozy apartment just like how you remember it was. As you entered his place, you immediately noticed the shelves lined with LPs which was new since the last time you visit, each one carefully organized. Jaehyun led you to the collection, his face lighting up as he pulled a few records out to show you.

"These are some of my favorites," he explained, flipping through the collection with an easy familiarity. He held up his own LP, his album, with a hint of pride and vulnerability in his eyes.

"Have you heard my album?" he asked, his tone soft, almost uncertain.

You shook your head. “Not like this for sure. I was… waiting for the right moment, I guess.”

You hesitated, glancing at the LP in his hands. “Honestly… I think I was a little scared to listen deeply,” you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper.

Jaehyun’s brows furrowed, a look of gentle curiosity on his face.

“Scared? Why?”

You sighed, searching for the right words.

“I was afraid I’d hear… parts of you that you’d given to someone else. Your songs comes from a place of real emotion. The way you write, the way you sing—I could tell.” You sighed, searching for the right words. “I didn’t know if I was ready to face how much you loved someone else.”

For a moment, silence filled the space between you, broken only by the soft hum of the record player. Jaehyun looked at you, his expression shifting from surprise to something tender and understanding. He gently placed the LP onto the player, setting the needle down carefully.

“Then let me share it with you now. These songs… it’s a part of my journey, but it doesn’t define where my heart is now,” he said with his gaze soft on you.

He gestured for you to sit on the couch, and you settled in beside him, a comfortable closeness forming as you listened. The gentle strains of his voice surrounded you, and in that moment, you felt the walls between you begin to melt away. With each track, you could feel his heart and effort poured into the music—every beat, every melody felt like a glimpse into parts of him he’d never fully shared before. You found yourself leaning in, absorbed by the rawness in each song.

“How does it feel?” he asked, his voice barely above a whisper, as if not to disrupt the music or the moment.

“Feels like I should have listened to it sooner,” forming a smile at your face as you turned to him.

A quiet joy softened his face, and he settled back into the couch, content. The music continued to flow around you both. As the last notes faded, you slowly got up from the couch. Moving over to the record player, you reached down to adjust the LP, prepared to reset it for another play.

Just as you turned around, ready to ask if he wanted to listen again. But when you turned, you found him leaning back against the cushions, his eyes closed, his breathing slow and steady—fast asleep.

A faint smile tugged at the corners of your lips. For all the intensity and energy he had shared with you tonight, he looked peaceful now, almost childlike, as though he’d finally allowed himself to rest. You walked over quietly, taking a seat next to him, your gaze lingering on his sleeping face.

“He must be really tired”, you thought.

In the silence, you found yourself tracing the memories of every little thing he’d done. His thoughtfulness, his attentiveness—it all added up to something deeper, a love that went beyond words. Each one making it harder for you to keep your walls up.

After a while, you entered a room quietly to reach for a blanket, the dim light casting soft shadows over everything. As you looked around, your eyes landed on a small picture frame on the bedside table. The photo was faced down, but on the back, in Jaehyun's familiar handwriting.

Love.

Curiosity tingled in your chest, and with a hesitant hand, you reached out and flipped the photo over. Your breath caught when you saw the image—a Polaroid of you, taken at the day you promised to tell your feelings when you held in his. You remembered the day, the laughter, the way he’d been looking at you just before he snapped the picture. It was one of those moments you didn’t think he’d remember, yet here it was, tucked close to where he rested.

You carefully draped the blanket over him, tucking it around his shoulders. But as you leaned forward, Jaehyun stirred, his eyes fluttering open, a bit disoriented as he took in his surroundings.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t meant to fall asleep—” he mumbled, his voice laced with sleep, eyes blinking up at you.

You remained silent, your emotions laid bare by the tears that still clung to your lashes. His gaze softened as he noticed them, his brow furrowing in quiet concern.

“Are you… okay?” he asked gently, his hand lifting to brushing your arm to comfort.

You closed your eyes briefly, gathering the courage to voice what had been lingering in your mind. When you finally looked at him, your voice was barely a whisper.

“Can I… can I kiss you?”

For a moment, silence filled the room, his expression shifting from surprise to something deeper, something almost vulnerable. He leaned in closer, giving you the answer, the distance between you dissolving until your lips met in a soft, tender kiss—one that seemed to carry everything unsaid between you both.

As you pulled away, he looked at you, his gaze searching.

“What happened?”, his voice barely audible, as if afraid to break the fragile moment between you.

Without a word, you reached into your pocket and pulled out the polaroid you had found in his room. Jaehyun’s eyes widened slightly, his breath catching as he realized what you’d found. He opened his mouth to say something, but no words came. Instead, he looked at you with a vulnerability he rarely showed, his gaze filled with emotions he had kept hidden.

“You kept this,” you whispered, your voice wavering as you traced the edges of the photo. “All this time… you kept this.”

He nodded, a small, almost shy smile tugging at the corners of his lips.

“I couldn’t let it go,” he admitted softly, fingers brushing over the polaroid. “It reminded me of what I couldn’t say out loud.”

Tears pricked your eyes again, but this time, they were mixed with the warmth of understanding, the realization of how deeply he felt, even if he hadn’t always known how to show it.

Reaching into your bag, you pulled out a polaroid—a picture of Jaehyun. You held it in your hand, feeling its familiar weight. On the back, in your handwriting, was the word Love, mirroring the same word on his photo of you.

Finally, you handed it to him, and Jaehyun’s eyes softened as he realized you had kept this silent connection close. Then, without warning, he wrapped his arms around you, pulling you into a tight embrace. You could feel the steady beat of his heart against your own, his warmth surrounding you like a shield.

“I love you,” he whispered into your hair, his voice filled with a quiet conviction. “I’m sorry it took me so long to tell you, to show you.”

The words you had longed to hear settled into the quiet spaces of your heart, filling the emptiness you hadn’t even realized was there.

“I love you too, Jaehyun,” you murmured back, feeling the weight of your shared confessions settle between you like a promise.

With a soft smile, he pulled you closer. His arms hold you securely as you rest against his chest. The room was filled with a comforting silence, broken only by the steady rhythm of his breathing. Gradually, your eyes grew heavy, the exhaustion of the night and the emotional weight finally catching up with you.

With one last glance at each other, you let yourselves drift off, content and safe in each other's arms. For the first time, neither of you felt the need to say anything more—everything had already been said in the way you held each other, two hearts finally at rest.

--

Two years later, you both found yourselves on a long-awaited vacation in Japan, a trip you’d talked about countless times. After Jaehyun’s military service, you were grateful for the time he had before diving back into his schedule. And for you, ever since the break you took during your suspension, you’ve improved tremendously at work. Recognizing the benefit of rest, your company has even begun encouraging employees to take breaks now and then.

Now, riding the train through a breathtaking winter landscape, you both watched in awe as snow blanketed the world outside, each flake catching the soft, wintry light. The quiet rhythm of the tracks provided the perfect backdrop, bringing a sense of peace to all the hard work that had led you here.

You leaned closer to the window, mesmerized by the beauty—the trees dusted with snow, rooftops transformed into sugar-coated sculptures, the whole world cloaked in a serene white glow. It felt like a scene from a dream.

Jaehyun, watching you with a soft smile, felt warmth rise in his chest as he took in your wonderstruck expression. Suddenly, drawn to the moment, he leaned in and pressed a gentle kiss to your cheek. You turned, a little startled, only to find him inches away, his gaze warm and steady.

“That was a surprise,” you laughed, cheeks warming as he smiled back, his eyes shining.

The train eventually stopped at a small station, and Jaehyun led you toward a quaint post office nearby. He’d planned this little detour—this spot was known for its “love letter” tradition, where visitors could write and send letters to each other that would arrive years later. Jaehyun handed you a pen and paper, a mischievous glint in his eyes, as he nodded toward a desk set up in the corner.

“Let’s write something for each other,” Jaehyun suggested, he handed you a pen and a fresh sheet of paper, gesturing toward a small desk in the corner.

“Okay, no peeking, alright?” you teased.

Jaehyun smiled, a playful glint flashing across his face. He nodded, giving you space as you sat down at the desk. The pen in your hand felt heavier than it should have as if the words you were about to write were more than just ink on paper.

Both of you wrote in silence, the soft scratch of pens filling the room. You tried to focus on your words, but your mind kept returning to Jaehyun. There was so much you wanted to say, so much you hadn’t yet admitted. But for now, this letter would be the way you could say it without speaking.

When you finished, you folded the paper carefully, sealing your thoughts inside. You watched as Jaehyun did the same. He didn’t look at you, but there was something about the way he held his letter that made your heart race.

He looked up, his eyes meeting yours. The playful energy between you had shifted, replaced by something deeper, something more serious. Without a word, Jaehyun reached out, taking your letter from your hands before handing you his.

"You look serious," you remarked, a soft hint of curiosity in your voice.

For a moment, you stared at the letter in your hands, uncertain, feeling the weight of the moment settle around you. Jaehyun’s voice broke the silence, softer than before, yet filled with an unmistakable certainty.

“I think we both know this is more than just a letter,” he said, his gaze unwavering.

You hesitated for a moment, then gently unfolded the paper. To your surprise, it wasn't the long, elaborate love letter you had expected from him, but a simple, heartfelt message. As you read the words carefully, a deep emotion stirred within you, each sentence carrying more weight than the last, settling in your chest like a promise you never thought you'd receive.

"Y/N, let me love you forever. Marry me"

Your heart stopped as you looked up at him, eyes wide with disbelief. There he was, the man who’d become everything to you, standing before you with all of his heart laid bare in front of you.

Jaehyun slowly took your hand, his other hand still holding his own letter, his voice barely a whisper. “Will you marry me?”

For a moment, the world seemed to stand still. The air around you felt thick with the weight of his words, his quiet question hanging between you like the most fragile thing in the universe. Your heart pounded in your chest, too fast to comprehend, too full to contain.

You stared at him, your breath catching in your throat as you looked into his eyes—those eyes that had been with you through everything, the eyes that had seen you at your best and your worst. And now, they were waiting for you to answer, waiting for you to take that leap with him.

“Yes,” you whispered, your voice trembling with emotion. “Yes, Jaehyun. I’ll marry you.”

The words felt like they had been waiting a lifetime to escape your lips, and the moment they did, a wave of warmth and relief washed over you both. Jaehyun’s face lit up with an overwhelming joy, his eyes sparkling, as though a burden he didn’t even realize he’d been carrying had finally been lifted.

Without a word, he pulled you into his arms, holding you close, his embrace tightening as if to make sure you were real, that this was really happening. You felt the steady beat of his heart against yours, and for the first time, everything felt perfectly aligned, as though the world had conspired to bring you both to this very moment.

Jaehyun pulled back just enough to look at you, his hand cupping your cheek tenderly. His voice, soft and full of emotion, slipped from his lips. “I love you. I’ll love you forever, Y/N.”

And as he kissed you, gently and full of promise, you knew that this was only the beginning of the beautiful life you would share together.

-- ˚˖𓍢ִ໋`🌿:✧˚.📷⋆𖧧 --

[grilledcheese-savage]

Opposites Detract AU part 2

I left some things out but here’s a clearer picture of what the rest of the story would have been like.

Pls read the og post right here

https://www.tumblr.com/grilledcheese-savage/763805500110487552/new-au-idea-opposites-detract-i-came-up-with-this

For some reason it won’t let me link it normally

Ok so as you can see in the picture, Marinette is Multimouse… but is that all she is?

For the first “season” or less, she is a civilian. She is free to live her life normally without having to take any unnecessary risks. Until she runs into this old man (master fu) and helps him out. I always thought this would be during feast or a situation like that, where either he’s in turtle hero form and she acts as a shield for him, or helps him like the first episode as a civilian. Either way, Master fu remembers this. He tests her more than he did chat noir and la coccinelle because it turned out pretty poor last time. He has paranoia. But Marinette is a pure soul so he leads her to his shop and reveals the miraculous to her eventually, UNBEKNOWNST TO CHAT NOIR AND LA COCCINELLE. Because while he was hoping the next guardian would have been ladybug, he needed a person he could truely trust. And that turned out to be Marinette. She becomes the guardian for the same reasons in the original, it becomes to dangerous for him to continue and he loses his memory. But Marinette continues to work in his shop (a cover for guardian duties).

Lila and Adrien also “work” at his antique shop but neither of them know she’s the new guardian (yet) I’m not sure if they’d find out immediately after master fu has to quit, or Marinette keeps up the charade a little longer. I think it’s more fun to imagine her knowing more than she let on.

When she meets master fu at first and starts training under him, she doesn’t get to keep a miraculous. She works under a lot more conditions than the others do since her job keeping secrets is incredibly important and fu still struggles to trust her. Eventually she proves herself of course, but the pressure of being guardian is so much to handle.

Adrien was going to be a guardian at first since he gained more of Fu’s trust than Lila, but since he has the Kwami of destruction, just like that other guardian man that I can’t remember the name of, they all have some kind of bias against them. He couldn’t trust him not to take the miraculous of the ladybug and grant a wish, even if he kept that from him. He also just doesn’t get along with La coccinelle at all, so he couldn’t have someone with a bias be guardian (he’s hypocritical).

More about Adrien: As cat noir he doesn’t get to be his flirtatious persona he originally has, instead he takes on a more serious altruistic approach since he is pretty hated unanimously by the public. His persona becomes more of a lie, as he tries to undo all of the hatred that came from the destruction of Paris that first day. Think of goro akechi in persona 5; he learns to distain his constant visual presence, the fact on and off the job he is constantly being watched. There’s not a moment that either one of his selves is on tv. And because he’s being filmed there are quick moments the news capture of him being kind to the public and turning around with a resentful face on. He doesn’t totally get to enjoy his freedom as chat noir since the police always try to capture him. But they fail to, and there’s a still a small few of fans of theirs that defend them.

Basically he gets cancelled a lot. 😅

La coccinelle is allowed to pick a miraculous to help her ONE TIME by Master fu, and she picked Chloe Bougeious with the bee miraculous. Chloe accepted and caused a lot of mayhem. Which was fixed. But after that was when he met Marinette and started planning defense and strategy with her. So the next time they needed help, he sent Marinette as multimouse which pissed Lila off because it made her think master fu still didn’t believe she could handle it. When really it was a mix of both not trusting her, and the fact that Marinette was prepared for a lot longer then she was.

This makes lila have a one-sided beef with multimouse, even though she’s secretly her civilian crush Marinette. Love square? Ehh. What Lila doesn’t realize is behind the scenes Marinette doesn’t hold any ill-will for Coccinelle. In fact, she defends her to master fu and convinces him to give Lila more freedom more often. But of course, doesn’t know this. And the unspoken beef continues.

Now, for Kagami and Luka’s place in this story.

While Marinette is a civilian she meets Luka and they become friends very quickly. Same with Adrien and kagami. But at this point in time, Adrien doesn’t really have a crush on kagami, since the slippery slope of coincidences caused Adrien to have a crush on Marinette first. Kagami however seems to be the only one who sees this darkness brewing in Adrien (emo I know, but I digress) Kagami, does in fact, gain a crush on Adrien because she thinks he’s like her- lost in this world, without a lot of friends to help.

Luka and Marinette however, still get together but after Marinette becomes a guardian. They don’t last very long because of this, because her constant work between the bakery, the antique shop, guardianship etc. makes her late to everything they plan to do together. Luka ends things believing that Marinette only likes him as a friend and that’s why she puts work ahead of him everytime. This breaks Marinette’s heart, even though she understands, so she accidentally ends up saying in front of Adrien that she’s not dating anymore, and is focusing on her career. Marinette is oblivious to the fact that both lila and Adrien have a crush on her.

Marinette sees that Luka is responsible and puts his feelings aside for the greater good and chooses him to have the snake miraculous part time. When she is multimouse, she’s pretty awkward around him since things left off kind of sad, but since Superion doesn’t know that Marinette is multimouse, he just assumes she’s shy or doesn’t like him. This is obviously not true. In fact, Luka becomes the more “chat noir” type in this, teasing the group and very lightly flirting with her. BECAUSE IT WOULD BE FUNNY AND UNPREDICTABLE. I see him being very suave with his harp. Like every musician is lol.

Kagami and Adrien don’t work out either, because deep down, even if he is getting more resentful of being pushed around and molded into a person he doesn’t know, he still is naturally kind hearted and knows that his resentment won’t last….. hopefully. And Kagami only has that, and fencing in common with him, at least in this universe so they stay friends. Plus she meets Felix anyways.

Speaking of Felix. He.. generally stays the same? Here’s the difference, when he say them on the news on day he judged them. Then when he saw/ met more of chat noir, he started to believe that they were like him and saw the world the same way as he did and starts to commit similar atrocities in the show with the peacock miraculous in hopes that since they were the same, they’d leave him be.

Since chat noir is growing increasingly disdainful, he more or less does want to leave him alone, but the part of him that knows it’s his duty wins every time since he is , still, a little more responsible in this than the show.

Also a reminder, Adrien doesn’t start out like this, he’s still the show’s version at the beginning, he just changes with every situation they find themselves in. So when Felix eventually comes to meet him, he assumes Adrien is the same as always- a goody two shoes who does what he’s told. That couldn’t be further from the truth 😂

Adrien is similar to Felix but still mostly tries to act like his old self, since it’s easier and gets him places. But when Felix comes over and is cold, Adrien gets frustrated and his resentful, chat noir self comes to life. Felix was so stunned by the slip up that he just, shut up. And left. Very confused.

Anyways I have many different ways of imagining Felix seeing the more contemptuous Adrien. He becomes much more interested in him. He wants to learn more, because maybe he’s not alone.

Idk what do you guys think? Should Adrien be the guardian? What would Alya’s role be? Pls reblog more ideas and add on to the AU!

Thanks!

[yu-huuuu]

Second Chance — Itachi Uchiha

[🌸] So, in my writing class I had to practice different points of viewI've done that before but it's fun as fuck haha

characters: itachi uchiha

genre: a type of angst ; fluff in the end (?)

warnings: none ; modern au ; fem! reader ;

reader, is referred as: 'love, sun, refuge...' yes, yes, it is cheesy but girls I don't know your name 🗣️🗣️🗣️ the day one of you tells me your name I will make the character call you that way, haha

...

..

.

The night had fallen with a calm, silent chill, like a blanket that covered everything it touched. Itachi was driving his car, focused on the wheel, but his mind was elsewhere. He couldn’t stop thinking about her, his love. Eight years had passed since she disappeared from his life, and every day since then had been a quiet battle, an internal struggle to understand how he had let her slip away.

He had made too many mistakes, but the biggest of all was letting her go. He thought he had time, that she would always be there, but life taught him in the cruelest way that time does not forgive anyone.

She, who had been his sun, his love, his refuge in a world that demanded too much. But in his arrogance, in his obsession with work, with keeping his life neat and under control, he had let the only person who truly mattered fade away. And now, there was no way to stop the pain of losing her.

'What if I never find her again?' he thought, tightening his grip on the wheel. 'What if she's gone for good?'

When he saw a familiar figure walking on the sidewalk, he could hardly believe it. It was her. His heart skipped a beat in his chest, and doubt disappeared in an instant. Without thinking, he parked the car sharply, leaping out of the vehicle and rushing toward her, not caring what anyone might think of his reckless behavior.

The cold night bit through his coat as he ran toward her.

"It's you…" he whispered her name breathlessly, and when she saw him, her eyes widened in surprise. But what struck him the most was when he saw who was next to her. A child. A young boy, no older than nine, who looked at Itachi with curious eyes that seemed strangely familiar.

Itachi stopped in front of her, his gaze fixed on the child. 'What does this mean?', he thought. The boy looked up at him, unafraid, as though he recognized him from somewhere, which left Itachi even more confused.

"I…" his voice trembled, and she stood silent, unsure of what to say, though her eyes spoke volumes of years of pain and resentment. It was she who broke the silence, her voice soft but firm.

"Why are you here, Itachi?" she asked, her tone distant, as if she were still carrying the scars of what had happened years ago.

He didn’t know where to start. He couldn’t explain in words what he was feeling. There was only one thing he could do. He stepped forward, quickly pulling her into his arms with the urgency of someone who had lost everything and just wanted to get back what little was left.

His love, clearly surprised, tensed in his embrace, but in the end, she didn’t pull away. The hug lasted longer than either of them expected, charged with a mixture of repressed emotion and guilt. When they finally separated, the two of them locked eyes for a long moment, as though trying to find an answer there.

"I’m sorry, I’m sorry… I don’t know what I did. I didn’t know how to value you. I thought I’d lose you if I opened up, if I told you how I felt. I didn’t know how… But I never stopped thinking about you. Every day, every damn day, the only thing I wanted was to be with you." His voice was low, sincere, full of regret.

His love looked at him in silence, her eyes sweet but tired. She couldn’t forget what he had done. She couldn’t forget how he had let her go, how he had discarded her without a second thought. But there was something in his eyes, something in his tone that told her he was no longer the same man he had been back then.

"Do you really feel that way, Itachi?" she asked, her voice almost broken. "Because if you had done this before, I wouldn’t be here… Not with him…" She gestured toward the boy, who was still watching them with curiosity, as if not fully understanding the situation.

Itachi turned his gaze to the child. At that moment, something clicked inside him. The boy’s eyes… it was like looking at his own reflection. The surprise hit him like an electric jolt.

"Is… is he mine?" he asked, though the answer was already dawning on him. The boy smiled shyly, looking at his mother and then at him.

She sighed deeply, as though her whole life had been condensed into this one moment. "Yes. He’s your son, Itachi. When I left… I was pregnant with him. I didn’t tell you because I didn’t want you to think I was saying it for your money. I didn’t want you to think that I was just another woman who wanted you for what you had."

Itachi felt like the world was crashing down on him, but not in the way he expected. He had lost everything: her, him, the chance to be a father in the boy’s life. All because of his lack of courage.

"… I… I’m so sorry."

She looked at him silently, her face a mixture of contained emotion. "I don’t know if I can forgive you, Itachi. But… he needs to know who you are. And you… you have the right to be part of his life, if you truly want to be."

The boy, in the meantime, had been silently watching the scene. Finally, he stepped forward, looking at Itachi, and without thinking too much, he fixed his gaze on him. "Who are you?" he asked in his innocent voice, his tone so pure it cut through the tension in the air. "You look just like me. Are you… my daddy?"

Itachi, for the first time in years, was left speechless. How was he going to explain everything he had lost to a child so small? How could he possibly do it right after all the damage he had caused? But it didn’t matter. What he did know was that he wasn’t going to let him and her go this time.

"I’m… I’m your dad", he finally said, his voice soft, more vulnerable than he had ever sounded.

She watched him in silence, her face a mixture of emotion. "He’s a good boy, Itachi. Just… promise me you won’t let him go, that you won’t leave him like you left me..."

Itachi nodded slowly, understanding that he hadn’t just lost her, but had let go of the chance to be the man she needed. But if there was anything he could do right now, it was to be the father their little one deserved and prove that he was worthy of a second chance to be her partner and her husband in the future.

"I promise", he murmured, his voice firm, though full of vulnerability.

Their little boy, seeing that both of them seemed to reach an understanding, smiled, unaware of the full gravity of the situation. But something inside him told him that from that moment on, his life would change forever and that it would no longer be his mother and him against the world.

...

Extras ;;

"Mom, is this man— my dad going to live with us?" your little son asked innocently, after a while. Clearly confused with the idea of ​​where the man who said to be his father could sleep.

You on the other hand looked at him and, for a moment, smiled tenderly. You bent down to stroke the little boy's head. Though you laughed when you saw his curious look.

"Maybe, little one. Maybe"

[naferty]

It's been a minute, but I'm happy to say I wrote something stony! And avac stony to boot.

This was heavily inspired by an old BL manga I read many years ago.

~~~

Tony wouldn’t say his time in Avengers Academy was bad. He wouldn’t say it was good either. As the son of a SHIELD agent and a HYDRA double agent, it was hard to find people to hang out with, let alone have any friends. What with the whole ‘he could be a double agent waiting to reveal secrets for his own benefit,’ thing looming over him thanks to his father. 

It didn’t matter that his mother had been a dedicated agent who left his father the moment she learned he was double-crossing and raised him herself to be a good person. All her efforts were ignored and Tony was lucky to be called a backstabber at worst and a turncoat at best. 

At least this school accepted him with minimal difficulty. Granted, he was ignored by the two main affiliates he was associated with, but at least he was able to study and hey! He was given permission to use the engineering room. He had that going for him.

It wasn’t all doom and gloom though. Sure, the one individual who managed to overlook his whole conflicted birth was not exactly a person to write home about, but Loki had a sense of fashion compared to most and always made sure Tony looked his best. 

“No Asgardian prince will share common space with a pauper,” were Loki’s everyday words when he found Tony wearing his admittedly cheap outfits. Conveniently forgetting Tony wasn’t exactly carrying a nation’s treasury in his back pocket like the prince. 

All in all, it wasn’t so bad. He had a sort-of friend but really an acquaintance who found his presence less annoying than most. He was given permission to tinker and experiment with tech and invent whatever he wanted. Within reason. He was given his education. He even managed to share space with some of the greatest names known! Both on Earth and from space. 

Captain Marvel, the Hulk, Falcon, heck, he even managed to catch a glimpse of Moon Girl and had Iron Woman look at him once! The last one had made Tony’s entire day. What he would give to share, like, ten minutes with Iron Woman and pick at her brain. See how she worked. A dream come true. 

Often, he would daydream of one day joining any of their groups. Just once. Even if it was only a minute or two. He would daydream of perhaps making a difference somewhere, even if small. Invent life-changing tech. Maybe even become a hero in his own right? Anything to show he wasn’t just a simple agent who was ready to turn their friends over at a moment’s notice.

What he would give for just a glimpse of what that would feel. Not having everyone watch your every move. 

Well, not much to be done there. He just had to buckle down and work harder than most to go against the whole school’s expectations of him. Every day he attended his classes, completed his extracurricular activities, worked on his shabby attempt at an AI and daydreamed about what-ifs.

“Yo, Clint, hurry up. You’re already late!” 

Tony turned to look behind him where the Hawkeye and the Falcon were casually waving at each other. Going about their day like usual and walking around as if they didn’t carry big names on them. 

He sighed and went back to his work. He was finishing up his coding for another attempt at Friday’s calculating. He was alone at Club A. The engineering room having been taken up in its entirety by up-and-coming SHIELD agents wanting to be the next big shot. As Tony was not in the mood to be constantly stared or pointed at, he decided to finish his coding in the one building devoid of bodies this time of day. 

However, even if alone with nothing to distract him, he couldn’t help his mind wandering around the place. In particular, a rumor that had begun circulating around the Academy recently. A rumor involving the golden boy. Captain America himself. 

What was the rumor? Why, apparently Captain America had a crush. In the grand scheme of things, it wasn’t exactly something worth talking about, but if one was following Captain America’s career closely, it was big news. 

Captain America was a big name, and the person responsible for it wasn’t someone to ignore. Steve Rogers was kind, respectful, brave and a very, very private person. Especially with his romantic aspect of it. It was rare to ever see the guy go on dates or show even a lick of interest to anyone. One could say if he ever found love again the person lucky enough wouldn’t have to ever worry about his eyes straying. 

Peggy Carter was a very lucky woman, or had been lucky, he would say. If the rumor held any truth, the founder of SHIELD was no longer the one holding the Captain’s heart. 

According to hearsay, Steve Rogers had a crush on someone in the engineering club, and while Peggy Carter was a genius in her own right, she wasn’t exactly tech savy for the club. This left a few possible contenders. Excluding the SHIELD agents – because come on, why would Captain America go for a lowly SHIELD agent? – the heroes at the top of the list were Moon Girl, Ironheart, Shuri, Spider-Gwen and, of course, Iron Woman. There were more, sure, but the rumor listed these specifically. 

Tony sighed again, tapping the end of his pen against the wooden surface he was working on top of. He should probably stop thinking about this particular rumor, but he couldn’t help it. Ever since growing up, he looked up to the idea of Captain America. Going against all odds to be the hero he was today. Tony couldn’t help but compare himself and his hardships with the guy, and somewhere along the way he kind of, sort of, maybe had gained a little bit of a crush on the hero, so hearing about the hero liking someone was a little painful. 

If he had to guess, the one the Captain was crushing on was probably Iron Woman. The one and only Natasha Stark. He often saw the two hanging out with each other. Always together with their ‘click.’ It was only natural Steve would catch some feelings if they hung out every day. 

Didn’t hurt any less though. 

“Okay,” he said to no one. “Focus. Focus.” He couldn’t waste his hour of free time away thinking about this. He had coding to finish and nobody was going to help him with it. Loki was useless when it came to tech and didn’t exactly make for encouraging company, so it was now or never. 

He slammed his pen down, harder than necessary, but the paper had no feelings to hurt so he didn’t particularly care, but he did utter a soft ‘sorry’ for disrespecting the code. 

He got to work and made good progress. His calculations might be a little off but he could hammer it down once he had access to the engineering labs again. The important thing was he had the base to work with. 

He decided to stop when he got stuck. He needed to test out his idea, but with no access right now to the computers at the labs, it was pointless to continue. He shuffled the papers together and stuffed them in his backpack. He still had twenty minutes left to kill time before his next class, meaning his next destination was the park. There, he was left alone and he could sit with his thoughts.

Ah, perhaps that wasn’t the best idea. The last thing he needed was time to think about the rumor again. Then again, he was thinking about it now as he attempted not to think about it. A vicious cycle.

As he was busy with his inner turmoil, he failed to notice someone getting closer from behind and by the time they caught his attention, Tony was left staring blankly at a flower in his face. 

It was a rose. Very red and very much smelling of a rose. It was jammed right in front of Tony’s nose and he went a little cockeyed looking at it. The person at the other end of the rose was none other than Steve Rogers. 

Whoa, Tony thought. He had never seen the Captain America standing so close before. Had his eyes always been that blue? 

So enraptured by those eyes, Tony could do nothing as the Captain reached out to cup the side of his face and pulled him forward. Tony went wide-eyed when the hero placed a small kiss on his mouth. A peck, really. Tony barely felt it. 

The hero pulled back and gave a blinding smile. Then, just as quickly as he appeared, he left the rose on his lap and disappeared, leaving Tony alone once more in Club A. 

Tony placed his good hand over his mouth unconsciously, and as his thoughts started catching up he went bright red. 

He just – he just – he – k-kissed -

A squeak he would deny for the rest of his life escaped him and Tony quickly scrambled to run back to his dorm to hide. 

[brainddeadd]

Heartbreak Girl

part 1

A few months had passed since that night on William’s couch. Life carried on as usual—they’d still hang out, laugh about dumb jokes, and text each other at all hours. But something had shifted, and for once, she was the one noticing it.

She didn’t know when she started looking at him differently, or why she felt this little spark every time his hand brushed hers. But lately, it was like every moment with William was filled with… something else. Something she couldn’t quite name.

It all came to a head one night after she’d gone out on another date that ended in disappointment. She texted William to come over, needing to talk it out like always, and as usual, he was there within minutes, no questions asked. When she opened the door, he was standing there, holding her favorite takeout and a lopsided grin.

“Ready to dissect yet another hopeless romantic disaster?” he joked, but his eyes were soft, concerned, like they always were when she’d been hurt.

She smiled, but this time, it was different. She really looked at him—the way his blonde hair fell over his forehead, the warm hazel in his eyes, the slight curve of his smile that she’d never realized could make her heart skip a beat. She felt something click inside her, like a puzzle piece finally falling into place.

She couldn’t help herself. “Will,” she said, voice softer than usual, almost hesitant. “Have you ever… wondered why we always do this?”

He looked at her, his smile fading a little. “Do what?”

“This.” She gestured between them, searching his face. “Why you’re the one I always call when something goes wrong, and why you’re always there… even though you don’t have to be.”

He blinked, clearly caught off guard, but there was a flicker of hope in his eyes. “I mean… that’s what friends do, right?”

“Yeah,” she said slowly, taking a deep breath. “But I don’t think that’s all this is, Will. At least, not anymore. I think I’ve been… missing something.”

A silence settled between them as he watched her, a thousand emotions passing over his face—surprise, hope, and something else that made her heart flutter.

She swallowed, gathering her courage. “That night a few months ago… when you said maybe the right guy was just waiting for me to notice him. Were you… talking about you?”

He took a deep breath, his gaze never leaving hers. “Yeah,” he finally admitted, voice barely above a whisper. “I was.”

For a moment, everything around them fell away, and she could only see him, her best friend, the one who had been there all along. All those times he’d comforted her, made her laugh, stayed by her side—she suddenly realized how blind she’d been, how he’d been giving her little pieces of his heart all along.

“Will…” she said, her voice catching. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

He gave a sad smile, shrugging. “I didn’t want to ruin what we had. I figured if it was meant to happen, it’d happen. I just wanted you to be happy.”

A tear slipped down her cheek, and he brushed it away gently, his touch sending a warmth through her that felt so different now. “You’re the one who’s been there for me through everything,” she said softly. “The one who’s always made me feel safe. I think I just… I was too scared to see it.”

“Then see it now,” he murmured, his voice trembling slightly. “I’m right here.”

She let out a small laugh, tears still in her eyes. “I see it, Will. I think I’ve always seen it, deep down. I just… needed to realize it.”

He smiled, and this time, it was a smile full of hope, warmth, and so much love that her heart felt like it could burst.

Slowly, he leaned in, giving her plenty of time to pull back. But she didn’t. She closed the gap between them, finally meeting his lips in a soft, tentative kiss that felt like coming home. His arms wrapped around her, pulling her close, and she melted into him, all the unspoken feelings between them finding a voice at last.

When they finally pulled apart, she rested her forehead against his, a soft laugh escaping her. “So, I guess… I’m your heartbreak girl?”

He chuckled, holding her tighter. “Not anymore,” he murmured, brushing a gentle kiss to her forehead. “You’re mine now. For real.”

And in that moment, with her best friend’s arms around her, she knew she’d finally found everything she’d been searching for.

[samgirl98]

Mending a Family 48/?

Prev | Next

Prepare yourselves😈

Jason would come to regret his decision deeply, but he couldn’t say no to his son’s tearful eyes at the time.

(That had been his mistake.)

“Please, dad, it’s the last day of school. The festival is going to be this afternoon. I really want to go.”

Jason wanted to say no; God did he want to say no.

(Why didn’t he say no?)

“Okay,” he said instead, “but please be extra careful today. I’ll be there in time for the festival, and don’t stray away from the teachers or the school, understand?”

“Yes, dad!”

Jason drove his son to school and felt a pool of dread settling in his stomach.

“See you later,” Danny waved as he entered the school.

(That was the last thing Danny said to Jason. Why didn’t Jason answer back?)

When Jason was told his son was missing in the afternoon, he wished he had listened to his gut.

____

Danny was having a great time at school. He had played with his friends and helped prepare the decorations for the festival the school was holding. He had helped Sarah and his teacher hang streamers and blow balloons.

Soon, the last day of school was over, and people from the village showed up to celebrate with them.

“Sarah, I’m going to go to the bathroom,” he told her in French, “Wait for me by the entrance. It shouldn’t take me more than five minutes.”

“Okay, see you outside,” she answered as she ran outside. Danny smiled at his friend. As soon as she disappeared around the corner, Danny went to the bathroom. He hummed while he did his business and then washed his hands. He left the bathroom and then frowned.

He couldn’t help but look up and down the hallway. His instincts were on high alert. Something was wrong, but he couldn’t figure out what it was. He walked cautiously down the hallway, wanting to be around people as soon as possible.

He was looking behind him when he turned the same corner Sarah had disappeared through, so he didn’t see the two figures, but he did hear the familiar swirling sound of a Fenton Thermos and then saw a bright light.

Danny saw the manic smiling faces of the Fentons before he was sucked in.

Huh, how did no one see them with those jumpsuits on, he thought. The last thing he noticed was the belt around their waist they had invented to mimic a ghost’s invisibility. It occurred to Danny then that he could only see them because they wanted him to see who had captured him.

He was so fucked.

____

Jason arrived at the school later than usual. Because everyone was trying to enter, the traffic had been heavy, and it had taken him a bit to find parking.

The pit in the bottom of his stomach still hadn’t lessened. If anything, it had gotten worse, and he felt it twisting around until he felt sick with the feeling.

“Relax, Jason,” Jazz said while bouncing Ellie, “Danny’s fine. Nothing will happen to him at school.”

Jason didn’t answer. He was looking around to find his son’s familiar dark hair. He frowned when he didn’t see him. The longer he didn’t see Danny, the bigger the pit at the bottom of his stomach widened. Where was Danny?

Jason looked for Danny for a few minutes. He even asked other kids and adults if they had seen him, but no one had. After ten minutes, even Jazz started worrying, and some adults around him noticed that Jason couldn’t find Danny, either.

Jason saw a little blur running toward them, and he turned, excited for a moment. That was until he noticed it was Sarah. Her brow was furrowed, and she was frowning.

“Danny went to the bathroom a while ago and told me to wait for him at the entrance. He didn’t come out, so I went to look for him but can’t find him.”

Jason didn’t hesitate; he ran into the school building, yelling his son’s name.

He didn’t find any trace of his son.

____

Jazz looked around the hallway to see if she could find any clues. She held Ellie close to her chest. Even the little girl was silent and solemn, her eyes wide with fear. Jazz tried not to let her emotions get the better of her. Danny couldn’t afford it. She could hear Jason yelling Danny’s name while others tried to calm him down.

“What do you mean the cameras weren’t working? What’s the point of paying if you guys don’t have functioning cameras,” Jason asked hysterically.

“Mr. Nightingale, please, all this yelling won’t help us find Danny any quicker.”

Jazz turned around to try to talk Jason down when something caught her attention. Her heart stopped and then started beating double time. She bent down and picked up a piece of rubber teal. A rubber teal she had seen almost all her life.

“No,” she whispered. It wasn’t possible. They had left them behind, so why had they been there?

“Jason,” she called out. Her brother stopped berating the principal and went to Jazz when he heard her panicked yell.

“What is it,” he asked. She held out the rubber and watched as he frowned in confusion.

“My parents always wore rubber jumpsuits. My dad wore an orange one, and my mom…”

“She wore teal,” he said with realization suddenly lighting up his eyes.

“No. No! We have to find him!”

A police officer walked toward them, writing something in his notepad with a frown.

“Don’t worry, Mr. Nightingale. We will. We will set up a team, and many teachers and parents have volunteered to set up a search team for Danny.”

Jazz turned toward the police officer and almost laughed hysterically at his face. While they had been looking for Danny, the Fentons had run away to Ancients knew where.

She hoped they wouldn’t find her baby brother too late.

One thing was clear, though, if the Fentons had touched even one hair on Danny’s hair, blood ties be damned, Jazz was going to kill them with her bare hands.

____

Bruce rubbed his chest, unsure why it was hurting so badly. He was almost tempted to call Leslie to make sure it wasn’t a heart attack if it weren’t for the fact that every time he saw his children converged in the room, it lessened the feeling.

He had to fight with his children to get them to come to the mansion, but since the night before, Bruce had felt the urge to have his children close. The only one who hadn’t fought him had been Dick. He had even brought Mar’i over when Bruce told him to come to the mansion. If anything, Dick had stuck close to his daughter and siblings.

He watched as Duke played with the lights, making Mar’i giggle.

Bruce sighed and sat down. He was about to close his eyes when his phone rang. He frowned. That was the phone only his children could call, but all his children were in front of him. Well, all except for…His eyes widened.

“Jason,” he answered, sure of his assumption. All his children stopped what they were doing and turned toward Bruce, surprised.

“Dad, they took him,” his son sounded wrecked.

“Took who, chum?”

“They took my son.”

I never knew writing a kidnapping scene was going to be so hard! I had to make sure it made sense to the story (i.e., how did nobody notice the Fentons when they sit out like a sore thumb), and how do I leave a clue so Jazz could know it was them? I'm sorry, but I don't know why a piece of Maddie's suit ripped except that I needed it to.

Anyway, the next chapter will have a family reunion but in the worst way imaginable

[sacriou]

Feeling hashtag normal!

[honeyvenommusic]

❗️NEWGLASSANIMALSGLASSANIMALSGLASSANIMALSGLASSANIMALSGLASSANIMALSGLASSAN-

[wings-of-sapphire]

I HAVE COME BACK FROM THE WONKA MOVIE LOVES AND FUCKING HELL I HAVE MORE FEELINGS THAN I DID FOR WISH

The movie was great don’t get me wrong

I can look past the fact that they Cruella-d Willy and made him a sympathetic character who’s just a bit kooky and no longer a sociopath because Timothee Chalamet is a precious bean

BUT THE ONE PROBLEM I HAVE

IS THAT THEY DIDN’T MAKE MY GIRL NOODLE

INTO MISS HONEY

LIKE COME ON

THE SET UP IS THERE

WHY ELSE WOULD WONKA NOT GIVE THE FACTORY TO NOODLE

IS THIS NOT

DID NO ONE ELSE MAKE THIS CONNECTION

NONE OF MY FAMILY HAVE READ THE BOOKS AND I AM DYING BECAUSE THEY DO NOT UNDERSTAND MY VENT

NOODLE GROWS UP TO BE MISS HONEY

I CAN OVERLOOK EVERYTHING ELSE JUST WHY DID YOU MISS THIS OPPORTUNITY

[fairy-angel222]

𝐓𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐓 𝐅𝐔𝐂𝐊 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐑𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓 𐙚˙⋆.˚ ᡣ𐭩

—your boyfriend does not appreciate you, but his uncle toji does.

pairing: toji x fem! reader

content: smut, cheating, unprotected sex, choking, petnames, praise, a little degradation, toji’s hot ass has tattoos, belly bulge, cumming inside you

You couldn’t really pinpoint when things went wrong. When your boyfriend just lost interest in you. You couldn’t even date back the last time you had been fucked. Simply turning his body when you tried to start something, or using the excuse that he wasn’t in his mood and that you needed to stop being so needy.

But how could you? You just needed to feel something. Anything. You were so tired of using your fingers when he left for work. Or the shower head on your clit when you showered alone, which was now always.

Your relationship was failing, but you couldn’t find it in you to break up with him.

You were quite confused when your boyfriend invited you over for a dinner at his parents. Getting to meet all his family as he introduced you with a wide smile, hands on the small of your back to guide you from person to person.

There was somebody who stuck out like a sore thumb. And you couldn’t take your eyes off of the man was probably twice your age and most definitely twice your size. Tall, broad and muscular with tattoos of all shapes and sizes trailing down his neck and onto his toned arms.

You swallowed hard, ignoring the heat you felt in between your legs as you ogled the greek god infront of you. With his messy black hair and dark eyes, a smirk spread across his handsome face as he tilted his head to stare you down. Hands in his pockets as he strolled towards you, your hand gripping your boyfriend’s shirt as you felt yourself getting smaller and smaller under his gaze.

“Now who’s this pretty thing?” The deep voice questioned, looking down at you with the subtle bite of his lip as he let his gaze run over your figure. “You’re not gonna introduce your lil ole uncle to your girlfriend?”

Your boyfriend scoffed, rolling his eyes and pulling you closer into him. “I have no need to. Now beat it.”

You frowned at his harsh tone. Toji’s hands raising in defense as he chuckled. “Just trynna be nice.” His smirk widening when he turned to face you fully. “Now, what’s your name doll?”

Your knees grew weak at the deep rasp of his voice, avoiding eye contact when you felt yourself face getting hot. “uh.. y/n, my name’s y/n.”

Toji hummed, grabbing hold of your hand and bending down to place a kiss to the back of it. “Pretty name for a pretty girl.” He winked.

“Okay that’s enough. You can go now.” Your boyfriend fumed, your eyes never leaving the older man’s as he took his leave, leaving you with a short. “Nice to meet ya, doll” before he walked away.

“We’re leaving.”

Your eyes widened at your boyfriend’s words. “What? Baby why? Your family seems so nice we can’t just leave.” You tried to convince him.

“We can when you’re looking at my fucking uncle like he’s a five course meal.”

You resisted the urge to scoff, maybe you wouldn’t have to if he did what he was supposed to. “I promise you, i wasn’t. Now let’s at least enjoy an hour for dinner before we leave. Okay?”

Your boyfriend only scoffing before shrugging your arm off of him and walking away into the kitchen.

Great. This was just what you needed.

The dinner was awkward for you. Your boyfriend wouldn’t talk to you and kept glaring at his uncle. Who only added fuel to the fire by sending short smirks your way, his muscles flexing as he ate.

You couldn’t help the way your face flushed, fidgeting with the food in your plate as you bit down on your lip.

“Y/n, dear? Are you okay?” your boyfriend’s mother asked in genuine concern. “You have barely touched your food honey.”

You gave her a smile. “Sorry, i’m just feeling a little sick right now.”

“Oh dear, would you like to go to the bathroom? Darling, show her the way.” his mom insisted. Your boyfriend not even sparing you a glance when he spoke, “I’m sure she knows the way, mom.”

You sighed, a piece of you missing the relationship you once had. Giving a tight lipped smile and assuring her that you knew the way before getting out of your seat and heading to the nearest bathroom.

You stood staring at yourself in the mirror, rubbing at the bridge of your nose while telling yourself to get your act together. You gasped when the door swung open. A smirking Toji closing the door behind him and leaning onto it, his hands crossed over his chest as he looked you in the eyes.

“You know, for a girl pretty like you, you sure are stupid.” He laughed, “Don’t you see you deserve better than my scumbag of a nephew?” Closing the gap between you two until you were backed up against the sink’s counter.

Toji’s hand reached up to stroke gently under your cheek, trailing his finger across your lip as he bent his neck to look down at you. In turn looking up at him through your lashes when his other hand held onto your waist.

“You gotta know how a real man treats a lady. How a real man fucks. You want that doll?” Waiting for your shy nod of approval before sitting you on the cool marble top. Your legs hooked around his waist and your hands gripping the counter’s edge when his rough lips met yours. Kissing you hard before trailing soft bites down your neck, careful enough to not leave any marks.

You let out a moan, Toji’s hands moving to peel off his shirt so his rock hard abs were on display. Grinding lightly onto the hard surface with a whimper at the full sight of black ink spread across his pale skin. A grin on his face when he went back to attacking your neck, hand slipping under your dress and pressing against the heat of your panties.

“This wet for me already? I’m flattered.” His fingers making their way to rub between your folds through the side of the fabric. Collecting your wetness before dipping a finger into you. “Think you can take it doll? You’re so fucking tight. Practically a virgin again, how long’s it been since you were given a good fuck?”

You truly didn’t know the answer for yourself. Only moaning as Toji pulled off the lace material, spreading your legs wider and pulling his thick cock out the confinements of his jeans. You whimpered when Toji stroked his length, the size being bigger than anything you’d seen before. “‘S alright, ‘m gonna mold her round my cock.” he groaned, lining up with your sopping hole before slowly thrusting into you.

“Nnhg— so big, T-Tojii— can’t take it.” you mewled, Toji’s hand latching over your mouth to muffle your pleas as he forced himself deep into you. “Gonna make it fit doll, just sit real pretty for me and take it yeah?”

You nodded with a shaky moan, your pussy stretching to accommodate his thick girth as he bottomed out inside you. Grunting heavily at how tight you were around him, his cock so deep that he could see himself bulging in your stomach through the thin fabric of your dress.

Toji started off slowly. Your moans increasing in volume as he sped up. The burning sensation turning into nothing but pleasure as he fucked into you, ricking your body back and forth with each thrust.

Toji’s hand fell from your lips, the tattooed skin finding itself wrapped snugly around your neck instead. His cock grazing your gummy spot as he leaned into your ear. “This is exactly what you need doll. Need me to fuck that pretty little pussy so good.” he grunted. “Exactly what your dumb boyfriend failed to do.”

You could only let out a cry, your smaller hands holding tightly onto the arm around your throat. Digging your nails into his flesh as you moaned out into the air. Your lips parted in a string of mewls as the older man’s cock pierced deep into the depths of your insides. Fucking perfectly into your g spot before bullying its way to the entrance of your cervix.

The unfamiliar sensation making you cry out even louder as your head fell back. “T-toji- ahh— so good Toji, feels s’ good.” you cried, your legs trembling around him with curled toes.

“Careful now doll, as much as i would love for him to hear me fucking you right, there’s other people out there.” he teased, your pussy clenching when your eyes met his. Your eyes glassy and your head fuzzy as you were fucked into oblivion.

Letting out a whimper when his grip tightened unintentionally on your throat. Drool falling past the sides of your lips as your eyes fixed on his v line, up to his abs then further until you reached his face. Finding his dark irises staring back down at you hungrily before pulling you closer to him.

His large body swallowing yours when he pressed you up against him. Your moans and cries getting noisy again as you felt yourself getting close. “Tojiii— nnh, ‘m so c-close, ahh— gonna cum.”

“Yeah doll? Close f’ me? Gonna make a mess on this old man’s cock?” he rasped, broad hips still rolling hard into yours as he watched your mouth hang open slightly, your eyes rolling back before closing completely as you reached your high.

Body shaking and pussy spasming around him as your pussy held onto his cock like a vice, letting out a choked scream muffled by Toji’s knowing kiss as you came. Squirting messily onto his cock with the quiver of your hips.

“So fucking hot.” Toji groaned as he pulled away from you. Your breathing noticeably heavy as he fucked you through the aftermath of your orgasm. “Fuck, gonna cum. Where’d you want it?” he breathed.

And you let out a mewl as his thrusts grew sloppy, veiny cock twitching against your walls as he got ready to release. “Fuck, gotta hurry up and tell me doll.”

“Nnhg— inside, want you inside.” you moaned, “C-cum inside me.. please.”

Toji’s pupils dilated and his grin grew wide. “You’re a slutty one in disguise aren’t ya? ‘S my pleasure baby.” His thrusts becoming merciless as he slammed into you. Using your pussy to stroke his cock as you choked out little cries at the fast pace.

“Fuck, gon’ fill you up so good.” he panted, “Gon’ stuff you so full that you’ll be begging to be my good girl again.” his cock throbbed, “Shit— there we go, that’s it doll.” Spilling spurts of his hot cum into your cunt. Making you moan at how easily he filled you up.

Toji gave his final slow thrusts before he was pulling out of you, letting his cum seep out as he helped you put back on your panties. Trapping his seed deep inside you with a hum. “Feel better doll?” he smirked, giving you a short kiss to your lips and laughing as you tried to not let him go.

“Come back to me when you gain some sense and drop that asshole, okay? I’ll be waiting.” Pulling his shirt back on and tucking himself into his boxers, giving you a wink before trying to fix his hair. Your eyes glued onto his back as he walked out the bathroom door.

Leaving you touching your lips that just felt his tongue. Your heart beating faster before you were startled by hard knocking on the door followed by your boyfriend’s voice. “Can you hurry up in there? You’re making my mother think you’re dying or something.”

You closed your eyes and let out a breath, thoughts of Toji plaguing your mind and keeping you calm. “Coming!”

[itneverendshere]

LOVED YOU AT YOUR WORST - r.c series - ONE

pairings: ex!sweethearts; rafe x thornton!reader; rafe x sofia. chapter warnings: none (angst) chapter two┆ chapter three ┆ chapter four

The bass from the speakers rattled the glass in your hand as you leaned against the porch railing, eyes scanning the backyard for him—Rafe.

It had been a long month.

Longer than you thought it would be. Usually, when you and Rafe had your little “breaks,” they lasted about a week, maybe two at most. It was always something stupid, a screaming match that ended with slammed doors and his truck peeling out of your driveway. But it never lasted. It couldn’t. You’d known each other too long, been through too much, and deep down, there was this unspoken truth—he’d always come back. Or, you would.

But this time was different.

This time, he wasn’t calling or showing up at your window in the middle of the night, eyes tired and sorry, pulling you into his arms. The space between you had been growing wider since his dad died. And sure, maybe it was your fault for what you said after Ward’s death—But it was the truth.

Still, you hadn’t expected him to shut you out completely. Two months. Two months of silence. And the only thing you’d heard about him since was through Ruthie, Topper’s new girlfriend, of all people. A random comment at Mase’s place—something about how Rafe had been hanging around some pogue girl named Sofia.

You’d rolled your eyes at that. Rafe? With some Pogue? Yeah, right. You’d pretended not to care when she tossed it out like it was nothing

You weren’t stupid.

You’d always known Rafe wasn’t the easiest guy to love. He was complicated, angry, reckless—but so were you. And in some messed-up way, that’s why you two worked. Or at least, why you thought you did. You were just as stubborn, just as damaged. But now, as you sipped your drink and looked around, something felt off. Your gut was tight, and that nagging feeling that’d been growing restless under your skin since the breakup only grew stronger the longer you stood there.

You pushed yourself off the railing, discarding your drink on a table before moving through the crowd, past people you knew but didn’t bother with. Your mind was set on one thing—Rafe. You were done with the break. You had your space. It’s time to get back together. It was never even really a question. It was just the way things worked with you two.

But then there was Ruthie—blocking your path, her wide smile dripping with the kind of smugness that set your teeth on edge. She looked like she was reveling in your misery and that little giggle she let out only made it worse.

"So glad you could make it!" she sang out, her voice too sweet, too bright. Her eyes flickered over you like she was sizing you up, taking stock of every inch of your perfectly put-together outfit.

You forced a smile, “Yeah, well, wouldn’t miss a party like this,” you said, keeping your tone casual.

You weren’t in the mood for whatever game she was playing.

“Oh, I just bet,” she replied, her smile growing wider. She stepped closer, her breath reeking of cheap wine, and you had to resist the urge to roll your eyes. Ruthie always drank too much at these things.

What the hell was her problem? She always acted like she knew something you didn’t, like she held the keys to all the dirty little secrets in Kildare, and she loved dangling them in front of people just to watch them squirm.

“Ruthie, I swear to God—” you began, but she cut you off, her grin widening.

“Oh, honey,” she cooed, her voice dripping with fake sympathy, “don’t get mad at me. I’m just the messenger. You should really be talking to Rafe about this.” She took a step back, still smiling, and glanced over her shoulder. “He’s around, you know. You can go find him yourself. See how cozy he’s gotten with her.”

You bit your tongue, jaw, forcing yourself to stay calm. She was trying to get under your skin, like the snake she’d always been. You couldn’t believe Top was lonely and horny enough to finally fall into her claws.

“Thanks for the tip,” you gave her a tight lipped grimace, brushing past her, didn’t try and wait for her reply.

You only caught glimpses of empty rooms along the way. You hadn’t seen him since the break, and part of you didn’t want to admit how much that messed you up. How much he messed you up. Your steps slowed as you neared the hall that led to the back of the house, the sound of voices filtering through the air. You recognized some, laughed at the drunken ramblings, until one voice cut through the noise. Rafe’s.

And then you heard hers. No fucking way.

You didn’t stop. You couldn’t. You told yourself you just needed to see him, just talk to him, tell him this break had gone on long enough, that you were done with the games. That’s when you heard it again—her laugh. It was light, flirtatious, the kind of laugh that made your stomach turn into a million different directions because you knew exactly what it meant.

She was there, with him.

You moved forward, the hallway barely lit as you reached the half-closed bathroom door. Your breath hitched, hands trembling as you peeked through the small crack, unable to stop yourself from looking.

There they were.

She was smiling, laughing softly at something he’d said, her fingers brushing through her hair as if she didn’t have a care in the world. Your breath caught in your throat as you watched his hands move, tying the knot in her bikini with such gentle precision like he’d done it a thousand times. The kind of softness he used to have with you. And then he said it, his voice teasing, amused like this was some kind of inside joke between them.

"God, this is just landing right in my lap, isn’t it?"

You froze.

He laughed quietly, his lips brushing against Sofia’s shoulder as he tied the last knot, and the way he touched her—like she was something to be savored—sent a rush of pure, burning humiliation straight through your chest.

You stumbled back, your heart pounding in your ears as Rafe’s words repeated over and over in your head. Landing right in my lap. What the fuck was this?

Your heart clenched, vision blurring as what you were seeing slammed right into you. You backed away, your hand flying to your mouth to stop the sob from escaping. But it didn’t help. Not even à little. The tears burned, and you turned quickly, practically running back through the house and out the door before anyone could see the humiliating mess you were becoming.

It was real. He moved on. In two fucking months.

That’s all it had taken for him to replace you. To be done with you. He was over you. Just like that.

After everything you’d been through together, after all the times you had to pull him out of his own darkness, after the nights spent in his arms when you thought you couldn’t breathe because your whole family was gone—after years of being his and him being yours—how the fuck could he move on when you’d been rotting away in self loathing for pushing him away?

Your head spun as you stumbled down the steps, out to the street where your car was parked. You couldn’t breathe. Your breaths were coming out too fast, too shallow, and your hands were shaking so hard you had to press them against your knees to hold yourself up.

What the hell was wrong with you? You hadn’t even had anything to drink.

But your stomach was rolling, twisting in knots so tight you could barely stand straight. You leaned against the side of your car, the cool metal grounding you to reality for a second before a wave of nausea hit, forcing you to double over and retch onto the pavement. Tears stung your eyes as you coughed, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand.

You felt dizzy, disgusted even, everything you thought you knew, everything you thought was yours, had been ripped out from under you.

Without a single warning. Not a text, not a stupid call, just pure indifference. No respect or regard for you. None of them. Everything you’d just seen replayed in your mind—Rafe, her, the way he touched her like she meant something to him.

“Look who’s still standing!” Topper’s voice. He was laughing as he strolled over, hands shoved in his pockets, that same carefree grin on his face that he always had at parties. “Jesus, what did you have to drink? You look like you’ve been hit by a truck.”

Normally, you might have had something to say back, maybe a fiery insult or a roll of your eyes. But right now, everything felt like too much. You couldn’t say a word. You could barely breathe.

Your cousin stopped beside you, his grin dropping as he finally looked at you. “Hey, what’s wrong?” He leaned down, trying to catch your eyes. “You good? You look kinda—"

You cut him off, the question was heavy, like a lump lodged in your throat. “Did you know?”

He blinked, the confusion spreading across his face. “Know what?”

You swallowed, your heart hammering in your chest as you forced the words out, your voice shaking. “About Rafe and Sofia.”

You hated saying her name.

Hated that you’d been forced to know it by heart. Topper’s smile dropped, his expression changing.

He didn’t answer. He didn’t have to, you knew him well enough to read his micro expressions. You clenched your fists, it felt like you were the only one in the island who’d been let out of the secret.

Surely, your friends, your only family would’ve told you something right? It’s not like you were on a remote island away from them. You’d spent the last month in New York, not in the fucking jungle. You visited occasionally. You were a call away.

“Did everyone fucking know?”

Topper exhaled slowly, rubbing the back of his neck. “Look, we didn’t think it was serious. You know how it is with you two—you’ve done this before. Played with other people…”

Played with other people. Like you and Rafe were just some game, a revolving door of heartbreak and hookups. It didn’t make sense. You’d always known how it worked, understood how these things went—sure, you’d had your minor flings, and he’d had his, but it was never real.

You stumbled back, feeling like you might collapse. “Oh my God, I’m going to be sick again.”

He reached out, obviously concerned since he hadn’t seen you in this desperate state in years, “Hey, hey, calm down. Look, it’s not like it means anything. Rafe’s just—he’s going through a lot with his dad dying, and he… he’s just messing around. You know how he gets.”

But the words did nothing to soothe you. They only made it worse—how everyone knew. How they’d all watched Rafe move on, while you were stuck, still reeling from the breakup, thinking he’d come back like he always did. And he was just out there, with her.

With someone else. You pressed a hand to your stomach, your head hurting. The idea of Sofia, of Rafe being with someone else in ways that only you knew—ways that had always been yours—made you feel like you were being torn apart.

Topper was still talking, still trying to rationalize it, but his words were like static now, blending into the noise of the party behind you. “It doesn’t mean anything,” he was saying. “You know how it goes. You always end up back together. He’s just doing whatever to distract himself.”

That word. Distract himself. Like your entire relationship could be boiled down to that—a series of distractions until you decided to come back to each other, to pick up the pieces and pretend everything was okay.

You could still remember the night your life changed—the phone call, the horrible, gut-wrenching moment when you learned that your family’s private plane had gone down. Your parents. Your sister. Gone. Just like that. And Rafe had been the one to pull you through it. He was the one who had held you as you cried so hard you thought you were going to die, who sat with you in silence when you couldn’t bring yourself to speak, who stayed with you every single night because you were terrified to be alone in a haunted mansion that now felt like a mausoleum.

You had been seventeen, and losing them all at once had killed something inside of you. But he was there. He wasn’t perfect—far from it—but he knew what it was like to grieve.

He knew loss. He understood. Because you’d been there for him two years earlier, when his mom lost her battle to cancer. You could still see the look in his eyes that day—fourteen years old and already drowning in so much anger and sadness, like the world had ripped something essential out of him.

The way he cried at her funeral when he thought no one was watching, and you’d found him, sat beside him in the cold, letting him cry without saying a word. You hadn’t started dating yet, hadn’t crossed that line, but something had changed between you two in those moments.

A connection, a bond forged in shared pain, in the kind of trauma that no one else really got. Maybe that was why you were so obsessed with each other. Maybe it was fucked up, but you couldn’t imagine anyone else understanding you the way Rafe did.

How could it all come down to this? To you standing here, feeling like the world was ending while he moved on, laughing and touching someone else like nothing you had ever been through mattered?

Was that it? Did that one moment, that one argument about Ward, erase everything you’d done for him?

All the times you’d been there, the way you had comforted him when he felt like his life was spiraling? You remembered exactly what you’d said a month after the funeral, when your boyfriend blamed everyone but Ward for his own death. "He wasn’t a good person, baby. I know he was your dad, but you can’t pretend like he didn’t fuck you up."

You hadn’t even said it to hurt him, not really. It was just the truth. Ward had been a terrible father, controlling and manipulative, and you’d spent years watching Rafe try to live up to some impossible standard, chasing his father’s approval like it would ever be enough. But that didn’t make it easier for him to hear. You should have known better. You should have known how raw he was after losing his dad, how complicated his feelings were.

But instead, you’d been brutal. Honest, but brutal.

And now, two months later, here you were—staring at the empty street, wondering if you’d pushed him too far. If that one moment of honesty was enough to make him forget everything else. Now you were just the ex, the crazy one who didn’t know when to keep her mouth shut.

“Fuck, why did I say that?” you whispered to yourself, voice shaking. Why couldn’t you have just let it go?

But then another clarity of anger took over you, pushing away the guilt that had been building inside. So you’d been too harsh about Ward. So you’d said what everyone else had been too scared to say. It wasn’t like you’d been wrong. Ward had messed Rafe up.

Everyone knew it. He knew it, deep down.

You gritted your teeth, staring out at the dark street, the low hum of the party still buzzing faintly behind you. You were never going to get that picture out of your head. Like they hadn’t just met, like you hadn’t spent years learning how to calm Rafe when he spiraled, how to hold him together when he couldn’t hold himself.

Your chest tightened again, a bitter taste rising in your throat.

You could still feel the weight of his head on your shoulder that night, years ago, when his mom passed. The silent sobs that shook his body, the way he’d held onto you. That was the real Rafe—the one he hid from everyone else. The one who was lost and broken underneath all the anger. And you’d seen him, really seen him in ways no one else ever could. Not Sofia. Not anyone.

"Look, you're emotional, okay? I get it. Maybe it's that time of the month or something. You know how you always get when your hormones go crazy."

The words got to you, but not in the way he probably thought they would. At first, it pissed you off, like it always did when people tried to downplay your emotions. Everyone always said you felt too much. That you were out of control.

But then…

You stopped moving, blinking rapidly as his words spiraled around in your brain. ‘Time of the month’, he'd said.

Your heart started doing summersaults, your stomach dropping as the idea settled in. You grabbed your phone, hands trembling like leaves as you opened the calendar app. You scrolled, trying to think, trying to remember when you’d last…fuck.

You hadn’t had your period in… so long.

Almost two months. No. No, no, no. This couldn’t be happening. It had to be some kind of fucked up joke.

You felt light-headed as you reached for your car again, your body shaking so badly you could barely stand against the door. "Shit."

How could you not have noticed?

Topper noticed the change in you instantly, his brow furrowing. "What’s wrong with you?" he asked, his tone softening a little. "You okay?"

You couldn’t even form a sentence. Your brain was too full of what-ifs. Two months late.

You hadn't even thought about it until now—everything had taken so much space in your head that you hadn't noticed the most obvious sign. This wasn’t possible. Your hand flew to your stomach, almost instinctively. You had no idea what to do with the panic creeping up your throat.

“Shit,” You hissed, this time louder, trying to push the growing dread down. But it wouldn't go away.

He was still staring at you, “What? What’s going on? You’re freaking me out.”

But you were already backing away, shaking your head, “I—I need to go,” You mumbled, barely hearing yourself.

Your cousin moved quickly to block your path as you tried to make your way toward the door. That kind of protective streak only made you want to shove past him even more.

"You’re not driving in this state." he warned you, voice firm, his hands up like he was trying to physically stop you.

You just glared at him, “Fucking watch me.”

He didn’t budge. "You get in that car and I'm calling Rafe," he said, sounding dead serious.

You couldn’t believe it. Your head was already spinning, and he was trying to guilt-trip you like this was some kind of helpful thing to do? You threw your hands up in frustration, voice rising, cracking. "He’s too busy fucking Sofia. Knock yourself out."

The words felt like venom in your mouth, the bitterness rolling off your tongue. You didn’t care how harsh they sounded. You didn’t care about anything anymore except getting away from this suffocating stupid place. Before he could say anything else, you made your move. You pushed past him with all your strength, chest hurting with the urge to feel something other than this suffocating mess of emotions and confusion.

Your hands shook as you fumbled for your keys. You managed to unlock the door, sliding into the driver’s seat, the cool leather biting into your skin.

You needed to think. But all you could think about was that one, terrifying realization: you might be pregnant.

Your breath hitched, terror swirling around your chest. The calendar app was still open on your phone, the dates staring back at you like a flashing red warning sign, daring you to confront the truth you’d been ignoring. Two months. Two months without a period. And you hadn’t even noticed. You pressed a hand to your stomach again, heart pounding as if it was trying to escape your chest. This couldn’t be happening. Not now. Not like this.

You weren’t thinking clearly—shit, you weren’t thinking at all, but you couldn’t stay here. Not with Topper trying to baby you, not with him out there, living his best life like you didn’t even exist.

You turned the key, the engine roaring to life, and just as you gripped the wheel, ready to peel out of the driveway, Topper bolted in front of the car, planting himself right there like some kind of human roadblock. Fucking idiot. His arms were stretched out wide, like he could somehow stop you by sheer willpower.

“You’re not doing this, I swear to God, you’re not!” he yelled, his voice frantic, echoing off the dark street. He looked panicked, pleading even, like he was convinced you’d actually go through with it.

You gritted your teeth, eyes narrowing on him through the windshield. “Top, I swear, you have three seconds before I run you over.”

“Are you serious right now?” he yelled, his voice cracking with disbelief. But he didn’t move. “You think I’m letting you drive like this? You’re out of your fuckin’ mind!”

Your fingers gripping the wheel so hard it hurt. You weren’t bluffing. You were too wound up, too out of control. The only thing keeping you from flooring him was the fact that, deep down, you knew your cousin didn’t deserve it.

You just needed to get out of here.

“Move!” you screamed, “I’m not joking’, Topper. Get the fuck out of my way!”

His face twisted with frustration as he looked over his shoulder, something catching his attention. He started waving, yelling at someone, his voice cutting through the night, “Rafe! Dude, get over here!”

Your brain stopped. It was like everything had been sucked out of you. Your hands froze on the wheel, your entire body locking up as you looked to your right and saw him—Rafe. Right there in the yard.

And she was with him. He had his arm draped around her casually, like she belonged there.

Like he belonged there, just standing in the open, so stupidly comfortable in his new life. His head turned when he heard Topper call out, and your eyes locked for a less than a second. A moment too long. A moment that broke something inside you.

While Topper was distracted, his attention on Rafe, you made your move. You slammed your foot on the gas, tires screeching as the car lurched forward, swerving just enough to dodge Topper’s stunned figure. You heard him yell after you, but his voice faded into the background noise as you sped away.

You didn’t look back. Not at Top, not at Rafe.

The only thing you could hear was the sound of your own heartbeat pounding in your ears, drowning out everything else. You hated this. Hated that you were crying. Hated that you’d let yourself get to this point.

“God, what is wrong with me?” you muttered, your voice quavering as the words tumbled out. “Why the fuck am I crying over him? I shouldn’t be crying over him.” You slammed your palm against the steering wheel, angry, disgusted with yourself.

You’d told yourself you were stronger than this—that after everything you’d been through, you didn’t need him or anyone else. But here you were, falling apart like some pathetic excuse of a mess because of him. Because he had always been there, hadn’t he? After the crash, after you lost everything, he was the one constant, the one person who kept you from completely losing it. You’d relied on him so much. Too much.

“Fuck,” you hissed, tears streaming down your face. Your throat burned as the memories came flooding back, memories of all the nights you’d spent together, of him holding you while you cried yourself to sleep, of the way he’d pulled you out of the gloom when you thought you’d never get back up again. You thought he’d always be that person for you, the one who understood your broken pieces because he had his own. You’d always fit together perfectly.

You pulled into the parking lot of the nearest drugstore, your hands still shaking as you put the car in park. The tears had dried up on the drive over, replaced by a cold determination. You didn’t want to be here. Didn’t want to even think about what you were about to do.

The moment you stepped out of your car and into the harsh fluorescent lighting of the drugstore, you felt completely out of place—like a stranger in your own skin. You hadn’t even thought about how ridiculous you must’ve looked until you caught your reflection in one of the store’s glass windows. Your hair, still perfect from earlier, framed your face in soft waves, and your makeup was flawless, despite the crying. The designer dress you were wearing—sleek, red, and worth more than half the shit in this store—with its sticky floors and white lights, it made you feel like an alien. Like you didn’t belong.

You caught the eyes of a couple of people loitering outside the entrance as you walked in, their stares lingering a little too long, murmuring to each other behind smirks. You knew they were talking about you. They always did, kook queen, overdressed, out of touch, bitch, whatever they wanted to call you.

The sliding doors let out a grating beep as you entered, and the air inside was stale and heavy, reeking of floor cleaner and cheap perfume. You adjusted your grip on your purse, strutting past the aisles with your head high even though everything inside you felt like it was falling apart.

You always did this—dressed to kill, head up, like armor. But there was no real glamour in buying pregnancy tests from some random pharmacy in the middle of the night. No way to mask the deep, growing hysteria in your bones.

The girl behind the register clocked you the second you stepped up to the counter, her eyes dragging over your like she couldn’t quite believe what she was seeing. You could almost hear her thoughts: What the hell is someone like you doing here?

You didn’t even look at her. You just wanted to pay and leave without a scene. But of course, people always found a way to make things worse. She hesitated before scanning the tests, looking like she might say something. For her own good, you prayed she didn’t.

You threw the money on the counter before she could open her mouth, two crisp hundreds on top of the total. The cash hit the counter with a sharp thwap and you gave her the bitchiest look you could muster. “Take it. Keep your fucking mouth shut.”

She swallowed hard, her hand trembling as she slid the bills into the register. You didn’t care that she was young or nervous. You weren’t here to make friends. You weren’t here for anyone’s sympathy. The extra money would make sure she didn’t talk, that was all that mattered.

You walked out, your heels clicking against the linoleum, head high, even though every nerve in your body screamed for you to disappear. You slid into your truck, slamming the door shut, the silence finally hitting you. For all the designer clothes, the makeup, the money—none of it meant shit right now. You felt so small. So scared. Terribly lonely.

You sat there for what felt like forever, staring at the stupid bag in the passenger seat like it had the power to ruin your whole life—which, to be fair, it kind of did. You didn’t know what the fuck you were going to do. Not about any of it.

Your foot tapped nervously against the floor mat, the sound too loud in the quiet car. The bag crinkled as you glanced at it again, your stomach twisting all over again. A bunch of pregnancy tests. How had it come to this?

Rafe. You squeezed your eyes shut, willing yourself not to think about him, not to picture his face when he found out. If he found out. Shit, what the hell was he going to do? He was with Sofia now, right? So was this going to ruin his life too? Did he even deserve to know?

It was probably nothing, you told yourself. Maybe the separation anxiety had gotten to you. Maybe your body was just fucked up from all the stress. Maybe your period was just late because you’d been so all over the place lately. There could be a million reasons. You didn’t even want to think about what would happen if it wasn’t nothing.

You didn’t want to cry anymore. Not after all of this. Not over Rafe. Not over your life turning into some fucking soap opera you didn’t even want to be a part of.

The second you were inside your house, the walls closed in around you. Your perfectly decorated place—the one you’d spent so much time making into a refuge, an escape—it didn’t feel like that anymore. Every designer pillow, every carefully chosen piece of art, mocking you.

Your phone buzzed in your bag, you reached for it. Of course, it was Rafe.

“I don’t know what the fuck that was but save the fucking dramatics, okay?”

The nerve. The fucking nerve of him to act like he was the center of your universe, acting like you were some inconvenience. Months of silence and this was the first thing he decided to text you? Knowing how much you despised when people called you a drama queen? Fucking piece of shit.

Your fingers hovered over the screen, a thousand different responses running through your mind. You wanted to tell him to shove something up his ass. But you did the only thing that felt right in that moment.

You blocked him. You stared at your phone, half expecting it to buzz again, half dreading that it wouldn’t. It was done. You cut him off, at least in that tiny, virtual way. You sat there for a minute, gripping the phone, trying to remember how to breathe.

This was supposed to feel empowering, right? You told yourself it would. That cutting him out would help you get back some control. But your mind wouldn’t settle. Those damn pregnancy tests were sitting in the bag next to you.

You were tired.

Exhausted in a way that had nothing to do with how late it was or how emotionally spent you were. You kicked off your heels, letting them clatter against the hardwood floor as you sank into the plush couch. Your house felt cold and unwelcoming tonight. Like a showroom. No comfort to be found. Not here, not in the muted tones of beige and white. Not in the sleek lines of furniture that were supposed to exude elegance and sophistication.

Maybe tomorrow you’d feel differently.

Maybe you’d wake up with a clear head, ready to take the stupid tests. Maybe you’d be strong again like you’d been so many times before.

Tonight, you were just tired. You leaned back against the cushions, closing your eyes for a moment, willing the noise in your head to quiet down. Sleep. That’s what you needed. Just a few hours to clear your mind, and in the morning, you’d deal with everything.

All of this would go away.

TAGLIST: @maybankslover @october-baby25 @haruvalentine4321 @hopelesslydevoted2paige @rafebb

@rafesbbyy @whytheylosttheirminds @astarlights @bruher @nosebeers @carrerascameron @serrendiipty @sunny1616

@yootvi @ditzyzombiesblog @psychocitylights @maibelitaaura @kiiyomei

@stoned-writer @justafangirls-blog-deactivated2 @starkeygirlposts @enjoymyloves @ijustwanttoreadlols

@icaqttt

[targaryenluvs]

DELICATE

pairings: dark!coriolanus snow x innocent!wife!reader

warnings: erm we’re back at it with another dark corio! possessiveness, literal murder, threats, vulgarity, nc touching -dumbification/babying, emotional manipulation and vulnerability, sexual undertones and thoughts, ownership?? NOT PROOFREAD

summary: coriolanus had to marry. lucky for him one of the most eligible girls of the capitol was up for grabs. only problem? he hoped his cold exterior would keep her away but nothing broke her sweet spirit. what happens when he finds himself being drawn to her light? and how far was he willing to go to keep it untainted and all to himself?

word count: 2.09k words

a/n: i swear i can only think of dark ideas for him because he is practically crayz - i loved this concept tho so enjoyyyy - annoyed i can’t find any post-lucy gifs snd i’ve already used the other one help me plz

taglist: @sleepydang @aspieundercover @darktrashsoulbear @3lliesrifle @rafeysbafey @zejjef @themorriganisamonster @cryfordemie @winterblu2 @earthangel-111 @taylarxse @alexameliamg @katastrophic04 @jjggdfvvy @joshwifeyslaymamaballs @10ava01 @kis9na @princessdaella @princessloveweird @prettybiching @justacaliforniandreamer @bxtchopolis @witchafterz @har-rison-s

PART TWO

coriolanus wanted nothing more than a relaxing night. he’d been at a campaign meeting for about four hours and he’d gotten absolutely nothing out of it.

he was in the right mind to fire them all and work it himself but he knew he couldn’t. all he wanted was to go home, have a bath drawn for him, eat dinner with you and go to sleep.

coriolanus had seen a number of weird things in his life but nothing was weirder than seeing you, hanging up the laundry to dry. you’d stopped him in his tracks but hadn’t yet noticed his presence as you hummed to yourself and went about your business. after staring in confusion for a few minutes he cleared his throat, “y/n. what are you doing?” you turned towards him with a smile, “it’s christmas! so i sent the staff home for the rest of the day so they could be with their families. don’t worry i had them prepare your bath, dinner and everything else. there were some things left to do so i thought, why not do them myself? i cleaned my room and yours, ironed the previous batch of laundry and placed them away, dusted the library and i was hanging up the laundry until you showed!” you beamed as you continued to hang the clothing.

coriolanus took a seat on one of the lawn chairs as you continued. he decided to watch you, to make sure you were okay. because who on earth wants to do laundry? that was the very reason you had so many servants. but here you were.

“you can head inside corio, no need to wait for me!” you said sweetly. coriolanus was a strong man, always rational. but god when you spoke so sweetly to him- no. “there’s no need, i’ll wait till you’re done.”

the sun was hanging low as the last rays illuminated the dining room. you’d set out candles, flowers and other pieces on the table. back home you loved setting the table, until your father would reprimand you for doing something you didn’t need to. what will people say if my daughter is acting as a servant?

but right now you felt at ease.

you had a good life. good friends which were rare to find in the capitol. good family and a good husband. he was proper, took care of you in every way, even if he didn’t love you, you were grateful to be married to someone you liked. admired. you’d heard whispers of corio’s childhood, his depleted resources and poor upbringing. but you couldn’t care less. he was more of a man than anyone you knew. and he was extremely pretty, your parents would’ve probably married you off to whomever they thought would help with social standings so this match? a lifeline.

coriolanus kept himself in check. he was up for presidency, his name and wealth restored and he was respected and feared. you were a diamond in the rough. whilst all the other girls in the capitol were, special, to say the least, you weren’t like them. first of all, he could tolerate you. like you even. you were exceptionally smart, well-read and spoken, respectful of those worthy but even those beneath you. you were kind, not the fake kind of the capitol. kind to everyone, helping everyone however you could.

and to him it was more than perfect. someone kind would be easy to have, easy to be married to. he knew from the second he saw you as marriage material that you’d never endanger those around you. you cared, enough to put your happiness to the back of the line. you’d be easy to control. after the wedding he expected you to be clingy, desperate for his love and affection. as any girl would from their husband, but you kept your distance. you didn’t push yourself on him, you did your duty. you did what was required and more. but you always listened, listened to him.

so he assumed you’d be easy to be married to, but he was always in awe of you. your sweet smiles every time you passed eachother in the halls, in the morning at breakfast and at night for dinner. always catering to him.

“what should i wear?” “you can choose.” “you tell me.” “it’s your choice.” and god did it inflate his ego. you were always asking about him, how his day was, what he did, who he saw etc. but it wasn’t just small talk, you were always listening. absorbing his words like a sponge, wide eyes, head nodding along dumbly. he loved it. and over the year he found himself, caring, on the inside at least.

every time you’d go out there were hungry eyes consuming you. your face, body everything. and he wanted to personally pluck out each eyeball and feed it to their families. so again, overtime, he’d shield you, protect you. his sweet wife who knew nothing of what the others wanted to do to her. a hand on your back, an arm around your waist, a peck on your forehead and his large red coat around you. all for show right?

he wanted to puke.

the smell of cabbage wafted to his nose and he was oh so close to putting this fist through the wall. who on earth-

you were humming, again. “corio!” your voice was music to his ears, corio, no one said it to him anymore. not even tigris. but he only liked, only wanted it to come from you. “dinner is served, some of your favourites are here. i asked tigris what you use to eat as a kid. ooh, you never told me you liked cabbage, me too! guess that’s another thing we have in common.” you beamed as you walked over with a bottle of wine, “tell me when to stop.”

he eyed you up the entire time. trying to catch a fleck of disgust whilst you ate, andddd, nothing. you weren’t lying, you actually liked it. he swallowed his own fear and began to eat.

“mm, i was wondering what you wanted me to wear tonight? i’d like to match corio, if that’s okay with you.” corio smiled slightly, “i would like to match. i have something i would like you to wear tonight sweetheart.” your eyes darted forwards as the word fell, sweetheart.

you couldn’t help the smile that came to your face, he only used terms like that in public. and based on his reaction afterwards, of which there was none, it meant that he probably didn’t even realise. or he did, you could never read him.

the red dress did things to coriolanus. the idea of you in it has his head spinning, but to actually see you in it? he wanted to throw you onto his bed and never let you out.

but to you it looked as if he was studying the dress rather than looking at you in it. “you look good.” you grinned, “thank you corio! i love your suit, you look very handsome.” you straightened his suit as he looked over your shoulder, your back was bare. “do you have a throw?” you quickly nodded and picked it up from the dresser. “good.” you already got a million stares in ordinary clothing, tonight was going to test his patience and anger.

the gala was gorgeous. for once there wasn’t ugly statues and weird color matches. a clean and pristine white hall, chandeliers, gold accents.

your heels clicked on the floor as coriolanus held his arm for you. “your hand please.” corio stared, waiting for your further explanation. “when we link arms your arm is too high for me. i end up with my arm at my neck.” you laughed as he lent his hand, which you gladly took.

stares and compliments at every corner of the room, everyone was looking at you two. the future president and first lady of panem. a match made in the capitol. you and coriolanus made the rounds, talking to present sponsors, potential sponsors and other candidates, much to coriolanus’s distaste. after a while you realised you were sort of just standing there, so you excused yourself for a drink and a closer view of the band.

“you look, ravishing.” charles operman. a sight which no one wanted to see, but to you he was just an ex-peer of the academy. “charles! thank you, corio picked it out for me.” you’d missed the way his jaw clenched at the mention of your husband, but you were to engrossed by the angelic singer and band. “you know, i always thought we’d end up together.”

the abruptness of his sentence had you choking on your drink, “excuse me, i’m married charles. i’m sorry if you thought that we would be together, i see you as a friend. i’d hate to lose a friend.” you smiled as he got uncomfortably closer and leaned into your ear, hand on your bare back.

coriolanus’s grip on his cup was tightening as he listened to lucky drone on and on. he wanted to see the life leave charles’s eyes, maybe his head would make as a nice present for you. “excuse me.” he nodded his head as he placed his cup on a passing waiters tray. you were helpless, and he was here to help you.

his breath was hot in your ear and you could smell the liquor on him as he was grabbed from you. “coriolanus, sir.” charles mocked salute as coriolanus stared at him, maybe he thought if he stared long enough hed burn into the floor. coriolanus rarely smiled, but this one was unsettling to say the least.

“if you ever put your hands on my wife, look at her, speak to her. it will be the last time you do so. i might just call in a favor with dr gaul, i hear your fond of snakes?” charles’s eyes widened, he hated snakes. he couldn’t even watch the 10th hunger games, the second he saw the snakes he ran to the bathroom and hurled.

“when i become president, you better keep yourself in line. it’d be horrible to see your family in the games no?” charles took a step back, “you can’t do that, i’m capitol.” coriolanus drew back,

“you won’t be for long.”

you couldn’t believe your eyes, of course he’d protect you but, threatening? he’d never do it right? the shutters of cameras had you reaching for corio, “can we leave my love?” coriolanus turned to you, “of course sweetheart.”

he’d stayed up for a long time. a smile came to his face when he remembered the sound of charles’s neck snapping. the door creaking open revealed a disheveled you, “corio? are you awake?” he sat up as you released a breath.

“what is it y/n?” you took a shy step forward, “i uhm, i can’t stop thinking about charles. he scared me, i didn’t know what to do corio. i-” you couldn’t stop the tears from falling as coriolanus swiftly got out of bed, helping you into his bed. “i- can i sleep here tonight? please?”

this was definitely not how he first expected to have you in his bed, but how could he say no to you? your hair in its braid, messy and lose, puffy eyes and tear stained face. he wished he’d first seen you cry underneath him but he’d take what he could get. what he didn’t expect was for him to like this, the scene of you crying, needing him. he was the one who could help you, console you, coddle you.

coriolanus nodded as he moved back to the bed, tucking himself and you in softy, caressing your hair and kissing your forehead. god he’d held out for so long, denied himself and his feelings but having you in his arms was all he could ever want, but the idea of being in you flooded his head.

would you cry like this? would you shout and scream? did you like it soft and sweet? he couldn’t be soft and sweet, he’d savour the moment but he loved the idea of unravelling you, he’d be the only one to see you like this, him being the only one to make it happen.

you curled into his chest, like a baby. your soft cries and whimpers went straight to his crotch and soon enough you were asleep.

his sweetheart, his delicate little wife.

corios hand slipped downwards and into your pants, he promised himself he just wanted to feel but god you made it difficult. he saved you tonight, didn’t he deserve a reward? didn’t matter if you detested he had you where he liked. so he slowly rolled over and placed you on the bed.

your eyes fluttered at the change of placement but he couldn’t care less. he was done waiting.

you squirmed underneath him in your sleep but his worries faded away.