#Nostalgia Month Challenge

[tortured-chicken]

@look-back-month-challenge

　２８．　Any toy you regretted letting go of?

There are a lot of toys I wish I'd held onto, but am happy to indulge in the nostalgia by viewing others' collections without being compelled to re-buy them.

Except Furby. As a kid I had 3 furbs; a tiger print named Toh-dye, a giraffe print named Doo-moh, along with a black and white bootleg called Purby. Included a photo from probably 1999 featuring Doo-moh.

Don't remember exactly when or why I got rid of them, but it was definitely a mistake.

For years I followed new Furby releases and loved observing the collector culture. There's so much creativity in restoring and customising them. One day I'd like to longify a Furby.

During 2023 I decided that, if my uni results were above a certain threshold at the end of the year, I could buy a Furby. Results were good so I purchased this tiger print with brown eyes because she resembles my first Furby, Toh-dye. She was advertised as "broken/for parts/display only" but responded well to the push-start method, although mute. Shortly thereafter I was able to replace her speaker and she told me her name is May-lah Kah.

Currently I have 10 Furbs. Eventually I'll probably get another giraffe, but the chances of acquiring the same type of Purby bootleg I had are sadly pretty slim.

[rozsesandart]

From the Studio Ghibli animated film “Kiki’s delivery service (1989)” - Art and animation by @rozsesandart

Art masterlist - commissions info - kofi - socials

Do not use

[passionfruitmango]

Assigned memories and morality to pixels

They mean so much to me

Their code so familiar to the friends long since deleted from cartridges

Created as a way to bring your team through the ages

They're not truly the same

Not the originals

A copy and paste of code edited just enough to work in the modern

Yet I still find myself so enthralled when I find a 14 year old pokemon trained by May.

And I feel almost guilt when I release the low IV'd mons someone sent me for my own breedject fodder.

I keep some.

Those with ribbons, 5-6 IVs, high levels.

Value ive assigned to them based on how i enjoy the games.

But without electricity and the systems that contain them

Its all just pixelized memories.

How real is something that's intangible?

Something that may not exist forever.

I'll always have the memories no?

Not entirely.

The human mind is a fleeting and fickle thing.

But when I try to imagine my life without the experiences those pixelized memories brought me?

Im left feeling empty.

Its so interesting how even half a lifetime later,

I'm still the same player,

Using so many different names,

But they're all me.

I lived through every part of them.

Just as they've found life through me.

[jasminesuntrell]

Misremembered or Forgotten (29/30)

I used to have an unreal memory. An almost disturbing ability to recall just about anything. But depression and trauma and SSRIs did a number on me and, now, I forget what I'm saying while speaking.

I read some poetry from my twenties, tonight. They were full of stories and people I have long forgotten. Some, I couldn't even conjure up with my own words as the prompt. People and experiences it seems once meant a great deal to me are now faceless strangers I saw in passing.

But the part about this that stung was not the memories I lost or the superhuman ability that's gone. It's the part where I misremembered me. I was hopeful and youthful, in spite of my pain and not the life-long malcontent I've always claimed.

And for as much as I questioned if I'd ever been in love before 2022, I see from my poems, I loved deeply. I just do it, now, from full capacity. I do it, now, passionately.

[coogi-pants]

Betsey, A Memoir

author: Betsy Johnson & Mark Vitulano

what i started reading in January trying to meet my reading goal of at least 1 book a month this year to keep up my streak from last year 📚

[simplygojo]

Friend-Of-A-Friend ── Chapter One

author's note ⸺ Hello all! This is a teaser chapter for a series I've been cooking up, just wanting to put it out here while I work on a few requests. :) pairing ⸺ Suguru Geto x Reader summary ⸺ You met Gojo in university through your roommate, and while the two of you became the closest of friends, his other best friend, Suguru Geto, was always just a mutual acquaintance. After graduation, life pulled you all in different directions, with only the occasional reunion keeping you connected. But when Geto unexpectedly reaches out asking to catch up, your mind can't help but wander... content ⸺ platonic-bestie!gojo, corporate-worker!reader, modern au, reader uses female pronouns, this is an 18+ series - mdni divider credit: @/toastray ୨୧ art credit: @/juziluohai

series masterlist ୨୧ simplygojo masterlist ୨୧ next chapter

You met Satoru Gojo because he briefly dated your roommate. Three weeks, to be exact.

It wasn’t a particularly serious relationship—Gojo wasn’t exactly the “serious relationship” type back then—but somehow, when it ended, he didn’t just disappear from your life like most fleeting university romances did.

Instead, he stuck around, not as someone’s boyfriend but as a chaotic, ever-present force in your friend group. 

He was simply too much fun to let go, and despite his ex moving on, Gojo embedded himself in your daily routine as if he had always belonged there.

The two of you clicked almost instantly. 

Perhaps it was his boundless energy, the way he could make even the most mundane of tasks feel like an adventure. Or maybe it was because you, unlike many others, had no problem challenging him, calling him out when he was being insufferable—which was often. 

Either way, within a matter of months, you and Gojo were practically inseparable.

Your late nights turned into study sessions that lasted until dawn.

Over time, those sessions gained a third member: Suguru Geto, Gojo’s quieter, more composed friend. Compared to you and Gojo, anyone would seem reserved, but Geto had an air of serenity that balanced out Gojo’s manic energy. 

He wasn’t just one of Gojo’s best friends; he became an integral part of your routine. 

While Gojo would get distracted and try to rope you into some absurd conversation about the merits of sunglasses indoors, Geto would be the one actually ensuring the group got any work done.

He was thoughtful in small ways—like bringing you both coffee before an early lecture (though Gojo always insisted on lemonade because, in his own words, “coffee is for old people”). 

You liked Geto. He was nice. But you never really got to know him beyond the surface. He was there, a presence woven into the fabric of your university life, but you never considered him more than a friend-of-a-friend.

Then, university ended.

You landed your first real corporate job in the city, trading the carefree nature of student life for morning commutes and office politics. 

Gojo, despite his initial complaints about you ‘leaving him behind,’ ended up securing a job in HR somewhere in the rural south—how he managed that, you’d never know. The details remained murky—he provided no real explanation, only a steady stream of texts detailing his ongoing struggles with adulthood.

And of course, every now and then, the three of you—Gojo, Geto, and you—would reunite for drinks or sushi, laughing about your university days as if they weren’t already slipping into nostalgia.

But despite the occasional meetups, your dynamic with Geto remained unchanged. 

You were friendly, sure, but you were just mutual friends. 

Every conversation was held in Gojo’s orbit, every interaction buffered by his larger-than-life presence. You had never hung out with Geto alone, or even had a conversation. There was simply no reason to.

That’s why the message caught you off guard.

It was late, the soft glow of your phone illuminated your darkened bedroom. A new message popped up, not from Gojo, but from Geto.

Geto: Hey, are you still working in the city?

You blinked at the screen. 

You couldn’t even remember the last time you and Geto had texted one-on-one. Maybe a few years ago for a party? Maybe never? And yet, here he was, reaching out.

Your fingers hovered over the keyboard, heart beating just a little faster than it should. 

You: …Yeah. Why?

Geto: If I remember correctly…I just started working in your area.

Your brows furrowed as you reread his message. Geto? Working in the city? That was unexpected. 

You had always assumed he’d followed a path similar to Gojo’s—something a little off the beaten track, something unconventional.

To be honest, if you thought about it, you didn’t really know where Geto went after you all graduated.

'He could have been in the city the whole time and you wouldn't have known.'

You: Oh, that's nice! It’s a pretty good area—what are you doing?

The three little dots appeared, then vanished. After a few moments, they appeared again.

Geto: Doing some accounting for a Nonprofit. Community outreach stuff. It’s pretty decent.

That sounded about right. You could picture it—Geto, with that steady, composed demeanor, seamlessly fitting into a role like that. He’d always had a way of making people feel heard, like whatever they were saying actually mattered. It made sense.

You: That does sound decent. Way more noble than my corporate grind, lol.

You expected that to be the end of it. A polite exchange, nothing more. But then—

*Geto Liked Your Message* Geto: You free this week? Would be nice to catch up. :)

The casual phrasing didn’t match the unfamiliar weight in your chest.

Your stomach twisted in something that wasn’t quite nerves, wasn’t quite excitement either. You stared at the screen, rereading the words, trying to remember a time Geto had ever asked to see you alone.

He hadn’t. Not once.

It wasn’t like you had anything against Geto. Quite the opposite, actually. If you were being honest, you had always thought he was attractive. How could you not?

Even back in university, when you spent most of your time sparring with Gojo over nonsense, you had still noticed Geto. 

He was the kind of person who didn’t need to be loud to command attention. 

While Gojo filled a room with sheer force of personality, Geto had an effortless gravity to him—sharp eyes that always seemed like they knew something you didn’t, an easy smirk that hinted at amusement even when he barely spoke.

And he was—annoyingly—good at everything. Studying? He aced it. Debating? He never raised his voice, but somehow, he always won. 

He was the only one who could rein Gojo in with just a single look, a quiet “Satoru” spoken in that low, measured tone of his.

You had noticed all of it.

But noticing him wasn’t the same as knowing him.

And when it came down to it, Geto had never really been your friend—and you don’t mean that in a rude way.

He had been Gojo’s best friend. A presence you had gotten used to that was conditional to Gojo’s presence, but not one you had ever gotten close to.

So why now?

You: Yeah, I think I could be..

You paused before sending the next message.

You: Should I invite Gojo?

There were a few minutes of hesitation before his reply came through.

Geto: He isn’t in the city, might as well not force him to commute.

You stared at his response, reading between the lines.

He wasn’t saying no outright. But it also wasn’t a yes. And for some reason, that felt significant.

Your fingers hovered over the keyboard, a dozen different responses flitting through your mind. You could leave it there, let the conversation fizzle out naturally. It wasn’t like you and Geto had ever been close—this was already unusual enough.

But instead, you found yourself typing back faster than you expected

You: Fair point. Where are you thinking?

His reply came quicker this time.

Geto: I know a place. I’ll send you the details later this week.

Simple. Straightforward. Like this was just a casual meetup between old acquaintances. Like it wasn’t strange that, after all this time, he was reaching out to you specifically.

You exhaled, setting your phone down on the nightstand and staring up at the ceiling. The city buzzed softly outside your window, the distant hum of traffic filling the silence.

Maybe it was nothing.

Maybe it was just a coincidence.

But as you turned off your phone and settled into bed, you couldn’t shake the feeling that, for the first time, Geto was stepping out of Gojo’s shadow.

And he was looking directly at you.

୨୧ ୨୧ ୨୧

The soft light of early morning filtered through the blinds, the city streets already bustling with their usual noise. 

The sound of your alarm dragging you from sleep felt abrupt, too sudden, as though your body wasn’t quite ready to let go of the peaceful weight of the night.

You groaned, stretching and blinking into the darkness of your bedroom. Another day of emails, meetings, and the familiar grind of corporate life—the rat race, if you will. 

The message Geto had sent you last night flashed in your mind.."You free this week? Would be nice to catch up. :)" 

You could almost hear his calm, measured tone in your head. The quiet rhythm of his speech that always made you feel like whatever he was saying was worth listening to.

You stared at the screen for a long moment before closing the app and tossing the phone back down. 

It wasn’t like you were doing anything special today. You had a million things to think about—your morning routine, that proposal you needed to finish, the quarterly meeting you’d been dreading for weeks. 

Yet, for some reason, his message had settled into your mind like a loose thread that wouldn’t stop unraveling.

You dragged yourself out of bed, pulling your work clothes from the closet with the same practiced motions you had done a thousand times before. But today, as you stood in front of the mirror, brushing your hair and debating whether or not to wear something a little more polished than usual, you caught yourself.

You hadn’t done this in ages. You hadn’t even thought about what you’d wear in advance, or how you’d look.

‘Get a grip,’ you thought to yourself. ‘It’s not like he works in your building—or that I even care what he thinks…’ 

Geto hadn’t reached out in a year and a half, and yet now, here he was, pulling you from your routine with nothing more than a few words on a screen.

You exhaled and ran a hand through your hair, pushing any butterflies back down into your stomach, because as all the finance bros say..the grind never stops. 

As you gathered your things for the day—grabbing your coffee, slipping on your coat—you found yourself checking your phone again, more out of habit than anything else.

No new messages.

You shook your head as you pulled open your apartment door, stepping into the cold, gray morning. The bustling sounds of the city greeted you, but your mind kept drifting back to Geto. 

The way he’d worded his invitation. The odd shift in his tone.

You told yourself you’d just focus on work today, push this all to the back of your mind. But it didn’t quite feel like you could. 

You walked to the subway, lost in thought, wondering if maybe you were reading too much into it. 

You had always assumed that, between the two of them, you and Geto would always just… be friends of Gojo. An afterthought.

‘I’m sure he just wants to catch up, it has been a while…and I guess we did spend a lot of time studying together’

But as the subway doors slid shut and you pressed your earphones in, blocking out the noise around you, one thought lingered in your mind like an unanswered question.

Why now?

a/n: hi all, this is a new series I am thinking of continuing...please let me know if you liked it!! I'd love to ehar your thoughts <3 ty for reading

[delilahsturniolo]

— ୨୧ nostalgia . . . m.s

in which . . . you spot your ex boyfriend matt at a party, and you decide to be a tease to piss him off on purpose

warnings . . . smut, unprotected sex, car sex, kissing, breast play, dirty talk, use of pet names, a little bit of praise, teasing, cursing.

written by @delilahsturniolo. do not copy, steal, or modify my works. if you are taking any inspiration from this, please ask me first before posting and credit me in your description. happy reading! :)

SO CLOSE TO WHAT WRITING MARATHON . . . fic #15

you spot him the moment you walk in. matt. standing near the bar, laughing at something, his head tilting back just the way you remember. it’s been months, but the sight of him still sends a shiver down your spine. you weren’t expecting him to be here, but maybe, just maybe, that’s exactly why you came. your dress is shorter than necessary, your lips painted in the shade he used to smudge with his kisses. you glide through the room, pretending not to notice him, but you know he sees you. you can feel the weight of his stare tracing the curve of your bare shoulder, dipping lower.

you’re talking to someone. some guy whose name you won’t remember tomorrow…but matt is watching, and that’s the point. you laugh, tilting your head back just a little too much, letting your fingers trail along your collarbone, knowing exactly what it does to him. you sip your drink slow, licking the rim of the glass, and when you finally turn, meeting his eyes across the room, it’s electric.

matt’s next to you before you can blink, his voice low and rough. “you tryna start something?” you lift a shoulder, feigning innocence. “me? never.” but his hand is already at your waist, fingers pressing into the fabric, a silent challenge. the party hums around you, music pulsing, laughter ringing out, but it all fades as he leans in, his breath warm against your ear. “if you keep teasing me like that, sweetheart, you know what’s gonna happen.” you smile, slow and sweet, because that’s exactly what you want.

his voice sends a thrill down your spine, but you don’t let it show. instead, you swirl your drink in your glass, pretending to think. “hmm. what’s gonna happen, matt?” your voice is all sugar and sin, and you know it drives him crazy. his fingers tighten at your waist, pulling you just a little closer, his body heat seeping into yours. you don’t resist. maybe you press into him just enough to make him feel it, the way your body remembers his. the way it still fits.

“you know exactly what,” he murmurs, eyes dark, locked onto yours. “but you like to play, don’t you?”you do. you always have. especially with him. you tilt your chin up, lips inches from his, close enough that his breath hitches. then you pull back, your fingers trailing down his chest like a whisper. “i have no idea what you mean.”

his jaw clenches, and you feel the tension crackling between you like a live wire. you wonder how long he’ll last before he snaps. before he forgets why you two ever walked away from each other in the first place. he exhales sharply, eyes flicking around the crowded room, then back to you. “come with me.”it’s not a request. it never is with him. but you’re not going to make it easy.

“why should i?” you tease, stepping back just a little, knowing he’ll follow. his fingers catch yours before you get too far, pulling you back against him, chest to chest. your breath catches, and for a second, neither of you move. it would be so easy—too easy—to give in right here, in the middle of the party, under the dim lights, with the bass thumping through the floor. “because,” he says, voice low and thick, “if you don’t, i’m gonna make you regret every second you wasted teasing me.”

your heart slams against your ribs, heat curling in your stomach. you smirk, lips inches from his. “make me, then.”

his eyes darken at your challenge, and for a moment, he just stares at you, jaw tight, fists clenching at his sides like he’s holding himself back. but you know better. you know he’s never been good at resisting you. just like you’ve never been good at resisting him. then, before you can even blink, his hand slides down to your wrist, fingers wrapping around it with just enough pressure to send a shiver down your spine. he leans in, so close that his lips brush against your ear, his voice thick with something that makes your stomach twist.

“let’s get out of here.”

you should say no. you should walk away. but instead, you let him pull you through the crowd, past the pulsing music and the flashing lights, past the people who don’t even notice the way he’s gripping your hand like he owns you. like he always has. the cool night air hit you as the two of you walked out, towards matt’s car. he opened the backseat, practically shoving you inside, climbing in himself and shutting the door. fuck, you knew you shouldn’t be doing this, matt was your ex. but, you really wanted to, you couldn’t resist him.

months of longing, simmering beneath the surface of your relationship, had finally reached a fever pitch. the quiet intimacy of the car, your hands, slick with sweat, moved over the contours of his body, tracing the perfect line of his jaw, the hard planes of his chest, the sculpted muscles taut beneath the thin fabric of his shirt. his eyes, dark pools reflecting the interior lights, were locked onto yours, a silent conversation of unspoken words and desires.

a low moan escaped your lips as his fingers tangled in your hair, pulling you closer. his lips found the hollow of your neck, a trail of hungry kisses that sent shivers crawling down your spine. your own hands fumbled with the buttons of his shirt, tugging it open with a reckless abandon, reveling in the feel of his skin against yours. the rough texture of the fabric against your palms seemed to amplify the heat building between you. matt didn’t hesitate one bit to lift your silk dress.

the engine sputtered, a brief interruption that only heightened the urgency. matt’s hands moved lower, tracing the curve of your hip, the swell of your breasts, and the heat radiating from your core. a gasp escaped your lips as his fingers found the soft flesh of your inner thigh.

"i want you," matt murmured, his voice raspy with need.

"i want you too," you whispered back, your voice barely audible above the rhythmic drumming of the rain. your trembling hands found the worn fabric of his shirt, tugging on the hem of it. the rough texture of the fabric against your palms seemed to amplify the heat building between you.

"take it all off." you breathed, your eyes locked onto his.

matt smirked, a predatory glint in his eyes. "yeah? you want me to?"

"yes please.." you whispered, leaning into him, your body already pressing against his. matt immediately removed his shirt. a low growl rumbled from his chest as he began to slide your panties off of you. the cool night air brushed against your exposed skin, the contrast a stark reminder of the heat igniting between you. matt's fingers slipped between your legs, teasing the soft flesh of your inner thighs, a prelude to something more.

"oh god, matt.." you cried out as he nipped at your neck. the rain continued to fall, a silent witness to your escalating passion. his mouth found the soft curve of your neck, a trail of kisses leading down to the swell of your arousal. he pressed a kiss to your clit, a feather-light touch that sent a wave of pure pleasure through you. you arched into him, your body molding to his, a silent symphony of need. his lips, hungry and urgent, trailed down your stomach, leaving a trail of fire in their wake. his hands, masterful and knowing, explored every inch of your body, each touch igniting a fresh wave of desire. “shouldn’t have been such a tease, baby..” matt let the pet name slip out of his mouth, it was an old habit

he entered you slowly, his movements a rhythmic dance of pleasure and pain. your moans intertwined with the rhythmic drumming of the rain, a soundtrack to your shared passion. your body arched around him, every muscle tense with anticipation and need. his hands, working their magic, pressed against your hips, guiding his rhythm to match the pulse of your desire.

"fuck," you whispered, your body shuddering as he drove a deeper thrust into you. the world dissolved into a symphony of sensations, the only sounds the urgent rasp of your breaths and the throaty moans escaping your lips. your fingers dug into his shoulders, holding him tight, as you reached your peak, a wave of pure, searing pleasure crashing over you.

you clung to him, the heat of your bodies radiating outwards, melting the icy night air around you. he followed closely, his body shuddering with a release that mirrored your own. his seed spilled into you, a warm tide of pleasure that washed over you. a ragged sob escaped your lips as you collapsed against him.

exhausted but exhilarated, you clung to each other, the lingering heat of the moment clinging to the cool leather of the backseat. the rain continued to fall, a silent witness to the passionate encounter. the memory of this clandestine rendezvous, this stolen moment of pure, unadulterated desire, would forever be etched in your minds, a secret whispered in the dark heart of the night. the air was thick with the lingering scent of your combined heat and the sweet, salty taste of passion. “fuck, sweetheart.” matt kissed the top of your head, wiping the sweat off your forehead. “did so good.” he praised.

these moments between you two, were all so nostalgic.

© delilahsturniolo do not copy, re use, or modify any of my works.

taglist

💌: anddddd that’s a wrap for the writing marathon! thank u all sm for sticking around, i’m so shocked that i was able to write and post for 15 days straight!? my sleep schedule is going through it but it was all so worth it in the enddd i gained 300+ followers from this alone so thank you so truly much words can’t express my gratitude! anyway lots of special and new stuff coming soon yayyy i’m so happy and i would love to try doing this again in the future it was so fun! :)

[sanchoyoscribbles]

Tokyo Mew Mew X Lisa Frank style! 🌈✨

a little process (kind of) gif, since I knew there was no way I'd be able to record a speedpaint with as time consuming as this actually was! I also merged a lot of layers while working just because I had an ungodly amount of them and clip studio KEPT CRASHING BECAUSE OF IT. Like for such a simple looking style it's actually very involved...and I had to color most everything on separate layers, which I don't usually do?

this was a big compilation of lf refs I made- you can see there's actually three main different body types that are done: very chibi, semi chibi, and a more realistic doll sorta body. I did semi chibi because I thought it would be the most recognizable + easy. I never really color with the airbrush except for highlights, but a good 70% of these are airbrush shaded (there are a few that are more cell shaded randomly?) so that was.. an Experience trying not to let the colors get muddy. something also really interesting about the lisa frank style is that the animals are drawn pretty realistically compared to other cartoon animals (except the eyes), but they are colored with the rainbow whimsical colors.

the stickers added (the hearts and stars) are based on real lf stickers. I have a sticker book and opened it to reference them! and obviously the girl's specific animals have never been drawn in lisa frank style, but it was easy to base them off animals she HAS drawn like the husky for the wolf, the usual cat for the iromote cat, the dolphins referenced for the porpoise, etc.

this is something I've wanted to do ever since I did that mira drawing in the lisa frank style last may!

it has its own post, but for comparison:

I think I def improved on emulating the style!! ofc the above drawing was done in a day for my daily may challenge to myself last year, but still.

I am tempted to take this newer art to a print shop that does folders and see if they won't print me a folder with it for nostalgia's sake. I just think it'd be really really funny to put..idk, tax documents into it, lmao. But I’d need to draw another one so the front and back could have different images (if I flipped this version the text would be backwards on one side!!) and I’m not sure if I’d want to draw like.. the girls in their cafe uniforms, berry and ringo, or maybe the aliens for the back side of the folder? 🤔 and with me trying to get more comic pages and dtiys prizes done this month and artfight in July I’m not sure when I’ll be able to do that! But another one of these might be in the future! 🫣

[ravenrothstr]

Me and You, and The Spaces In Between

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

genre. idol! au. work! au. fluff

words count. 18.0k

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

tags. @apolloxxivmin

-- ˚˖𓍢ִ໋`🌿:✧˚.📷⋆𖧧 --

Every day, you merge into the city’s endless flow, a quiet figure lost in the current of bustling lives. Your weight is invisible but suffocating—a dull, relentless pressure that wraps around your chest and pulls your shoulders low. You drift through the same grey office building, slip into your usual seat, and speak in a voice that seems to evaporate as soon as it leaves your lips. Surrounded by colleagues who hardly notice you, you feel like a ghost, an echo fading in a room with louder voices.

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

Unanswered, unnoticed. Like always.

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

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

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

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

"We're giving you some time off."

"Pardon?"

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

--

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

Finally, you looked up to meet his gaze.

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

--

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

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

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

What a world we live in.

--

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

Hope.

Something you haven’t felt in a long time.

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

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

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

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

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

--

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

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

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

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

You glanced around the busy airport, considering her concern.

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

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

“Thanks, Aeri,” you said softly.

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

--

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He sighed, his frustration still evident, but he seemed to be reining it in. “Just… be careful next time,” he muttered, adjusting his bike before giving you one last look and riding off into the night.

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

--

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

--

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You clenched your fists, tears filling up your eyes resulting to you trying to suppress the anger rising within you as you ended the call. Everything felt like a mess now, and you didn’t need any additions to that. You began to look around your room, searching for an escape. Your eyes landed on the dark sea beyond the balcony, and an idea quietly surfaced. Grabbing your film camera, you decided to take a walk along the beach.

You wanted to cry; you needed to cry.

You began to look around your room, searching for an escape. Your eyes landed on the dark sea beyond the balcony, and an idea quietly surfaced. Grabbing your film camera, you decided to take a walk along the beach.

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

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

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

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

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

“I’m calling the cops on you.”

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

--

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Just write Y/N, unemployed.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

A hesitant smile tugged at your lips. “Your group… NCT?”

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

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

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

“I’m sorry, too,” you murmured.

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

--

The night air was calm, and without another word, you fell into step beside each other, walking back toward the hotel. The silence was surprisingly comfortable, but you couldn't help to calm down your emotions.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Sure,” he replied, a bit reluctantly.

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

--

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

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

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

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

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

"It's okay, I was finished anyway"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I'll be here,” he said softly.

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

--

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

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

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

"Thanks", you murmured.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Here, I’ll show you," he said.

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

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

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

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

"Focus on that,"

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

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

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

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

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

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

--

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Just for the memories," you thought.

Jaehyun turned to you, curiosity shining in his eyes. “So, do you take pictures as a hobby or professionally?” he asked.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

--

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I’ll think about it,”

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

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

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

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

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

--

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

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

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

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

"Hello?"

"Yes, is this Y/N?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

--

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

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

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

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

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

“Isn’t this amazing?” Aeri exclaimed during a brief interlude, her face glowing. You nodded, forcing a smile, but your heart was conflicted. This night was as exhilarating as it was overwhelming, and as Jaehyun’s gaze swept over the audience, you wondered if he’d see you and recognize you in the crowd.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

She shook her head, her eyes sparkling with excitement. “No way! This is amazing! Just leave me for a bit; I want to enjoy this!” Aeri grinned, clearly swept up in the atmosphere.

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

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

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

Without a second thought, Jaehyun nodded, taking charge.

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

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

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

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

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

“Are you okay?”, he asked.

You nodded, feeling grateful for his support.

“Thanks for stepping in,” you said softly.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Yeah, sure"

--

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

--

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

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

More than a friend would.

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

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

Jaehyun nodded thoughtfully, his gaze shifting back to you. “So, are you masking something now?” he asked, a playful glint in his eyes.

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

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

“Nope, I’m keeping you guessing.”

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

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

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

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

“Deal.”

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

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

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

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

Your cheeks warmed at his compliment.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

--

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

“Hello, Jaehyun.”

“Hey, Y/N. Where are you now?”

“I just finished work—”

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

“Okay… go ahead. I’m listening.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Jaehyun laughs, rubbing the back of his neck.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Jaehyun furrowed his brows, clearly caught off guard.

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

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

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

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

A flash of offense crossed his face.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Jeno’s expression softened.

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

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

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

--

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I must be a bit tipsy—“,

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

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

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

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

Just like how all of us have been doing.

“Yes, and I’m missing him too much”.

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

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

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

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

—

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

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

“Hey, Haeun,” Jaehyun greeted a woman who had approached him early on, soon after hearing he’d be collaborating with the producer.

She smiled back, a faint, knowing look in her eyes. After weeks of politely declining advances from the women who had initially surrounded him, the interest had mostly faded. One by one, they’d lost interest, sensing that Jaehyun wasn’t interested in mixing business with pleasure—or perhaps realizing his connection with the producer wasn’t as social as they’d hoped.

“Looking for the producer?” she asked casually.

“Yeah.” Jaehyun ordered a drink, taking a sip as he looked around. “Do you know where he is?”

“Oh, you know him,” she replied, sliding her hand subtly onto his lap. “He’s probably just handling some ‘work’ stuff. He’ll be here in a minute.”

Jaehyun resisted the urge to pull away, the casual touch a reminder of how he’d been drawn into this world—a place he never truly fit into. His mind drifted back to a different kind of night, quieter and far from the flashing lights and unfamiliar faces. And as much as he tried to forget.

His mind drifted to you.

Jaehyun gently removed Haeun's hand from his lap, hoping to diffuse the situation without causing a scene.

"Sorry, Haeun, but I’m just here to talk business." he said, keeping his voice calm,"

Her smile faltered, her expression twisting with embarrassment and irritation. She leaned closer, her voice dropping to a challenging tone.

“Oh, come on, Jaehyun,” she said, her tone laced with annoyance. “You’re really just here to work? Don’t act so above it all.”

When he didn’t respond, she moved in even closer, pressing herself against him as though determined to wear down his resistance. Jaehyun felt his patience thinning; he pushed her gently but firmly aside, realizing that his polite refusals weren’t going to get through to her.

“Look, Haeun,” he said, keeping his voice steady but his tone sharp, “I meant what I said. I’m not interested.”

The flash of anger in her eyes was unmistakable, her pride clearly bruised.

“You think you’re better than everyone here?” she sneered, her voice loud enough to draw a few curious glances from nearby. “Or are you just here to use the producer and then leave, like none of us matter?”

Jaehyun took a deep breath, steadying his frustration. He missed you—missed the clarity and grounding you brought, and for a split second, he felt the sting of how right you’d been about all of this.

“I’m here for my music,” he replied, his tone measured and cool. “If you don’t get that, it’s best you leave me alone.”

Without another glance, Jaehyun turned and made his way out of the club, distancing himself from her and the crowd. He could feel the weight of their stares trailing behind him, but he kept his gaze forward. The entire encounter had left him feeling hollow, revealing the shallow undercurrents he’d ignored for too long.

Outside, under the quiet stretch of the night sky, Jaehyun searched for solace in the calm after the chaos. He pulled out his phone, his thumb hesitating over your contact. He wanted to call you, to hear your voice and find comfort in the familiarity he’d pushed away. For a long moment, he debated it, the thought lingering like a lifeline in the silence.

But his pride held him back. He’d already felt it bruised enough tonight, and the painful reminder of the distance he’d let grow between you weighed heavy on his heart—a reminder of what he’d lost and what he might never get back.

--

Jaehyun wandered to a street bar near his place, settling into a quiet corner with a bottle and a glass. The night air was thick with the hum of city life, a familiar background to his quiet unraveling. He glanced at his phone, fingers hovering over a message he’d hesitated to send for too long.

With a steadying breath, he finally typed to the producer:

I don’t think this is working out. I’ll need to step back from our project.

He hit send, feeling the release like stepping off a tightrope, his resolve solid. He poured himself another drink, the burn of the alcohol both grounding and numbing.

Running a hand through his hair, he tried to steady himself. In moments of despair, his mind always drifted back to you, longing for the comfort of your warmth amid the silence.

He lifted his head from the glass just as a familiar face appeared across the bar, sparking instant nostalgia.

“Jaehyun?” The voice was warm and surprised. When he looked up, he saw the wide grin of an old high school friend, Minseok.

“Oh—Minseok-ah!” Jaehyun stood as they reached out for a handshake, pulling each other into a friendly chest bump.

“What are you doing here alone?” Minseok asked.

“Just trying to get through the day. How about you?”

“Why do it alone? Come on, let’s drink together,” Minseok said, chuckling as he took the seat beside Jaehyun.

Laughter quickly filled the air as they caught up, reminiscing over shared memories. The comfort of familiarity eased some of Jaehyun's earlier bitterness as the drinks kept flowing.

“So, what are you up to now? Last time we talked, you were at SNU studying music,” Jaehyun asked, curiosity sparking in his eyes.

Minseok smiled. “I’m producing now. If you’re ever looking for someone to collaborate with, I’d be honored.”

Jaehyun’s eyes widened in surprise. “You’re producing now?”

“Yeah, I’ve been at it for quite a while.”

As the conversation deepened, Jaehyun found himself opening up about the fallout with his previous producer, the frustrations of the past weeks, and the growing feeling of losing himself in the industry.

Minseok listened intently, sympathy etched in his expression.

“I get it. It happens you know? Sometimes, people even forget why they’re doing what they love in the first place.”

Jaehyun sighed, swirling his drink.

“Yeah, I just didn’t expect it to feel this empty”.

“Well, come to my studio,” Minseok replied, pouring another drink. “Maybe I can help.”

A spark of hope flickered in Jaehyun's chest, something he hadn't felt in ages—something he had lost in the sterile demands of his previous producer.

“I’d actually like that… a lot.”

--

The next few weeks passed in a blur. Jaehyun threw himself into his music, each day dissolving into the next as he filled the empty hours with endless melodies and late-night recording sessions. Minseok’s studio became his second home, its walls absorbing every failed attempt, every breakthrough, and every quiet moment of doubt.

One evening, Jaehyun headed to the company building for a round of final checks on his solo album. His body was tired, but his mind was relentlessly driven. As he walked past the studios, he nearly bumped into Jeno, who looked like he was the last one out after practice. Jaehyun’s face lit up, grateful for the unexpected company and a break from his own thoughts.

"Hyung!" Jeno greeted with a wide grin, pulling him into a quick hug. "Are you here working on your solo album?"

"Yeah," Jaehyun replied with a tired smile. "Just wrapping things up, trying to balance it with the group’s schedule."

Jeno chuckled, nodding knowingly.

"Sounds like you’re living in the studio these days."

"Yeah… but my friend's been helping a lot."

"That’s good. You could use the support."

Jaehyun hesitated, rubbing the back of his neck. Finally, he broke the silence.

"Hey, Jeno… have you seen Y/N around lately?"

There was no hiding the fact that Jeno was the one who took you home that night. When news broke of him being spotted with a woman in his car, rumours quickly started to swirl. Although SM Entertainment promptly cleared things up, stating that Jeno was simply helping out a friend, the speculation had already spread far and wide.

Jeno’s expression softened. He knew this question would come sooner or later.

"We hung out a few nights ago," he said, choosing his words carefully. "She’s… well, she’s been busy with work. The overtime's wearing her down a bit."

"That's good to know", Jaehyun's shoulders relaxed slightly, but there was a flicker of something else—regret, maybe.

Thoughts of you had crept into his mind more than he wanted to admit, but he still felt the weight of their last encounter at the club. The harsh words exchanged, her disappointment in him—it all lingered, making it hard to reach out.

"She's changed a bit," Jeno continued, his tone gentle. "But she's still Y/N… maybe just a little more guarded."

Jaehyun looked away, clenching his jaw. He hadn’t reached out, and not for lack of wanting to. After the fight, he couldn’t shake the feeling that maybe she didn’t want to see him anymore, that maybe he’d crossed a line that couldn’t be erased.

"Hyung, you should reach out to her. I think she’s waiting for you, even if she wouldn’t say it."

Jaehyun’s chest tightened, a surge of longing mixed with uncertainty. The thought of her waiting gave him a sliver of hope, but the memory of her disappointment held him back.

“Maybe…” Jaehyun murmured, half to himself.

But he knew he’d have to decide soon—before the silence between them became a wall neither could cross.

Jaehyun’s thoughts churned as he walked back to his car, Jeno’s words echoing in his mind: "I think she’s waiting for you." He replayed the last fight in his head—the hurt in your eyes, the way you turned and walked away, and the silence that had followed ever since. Every part of him wanted to see you, but his pride and guilt had held him back. Still, the hope that you might be waiting was enough to push him forward.

Before he could talk himself out of it, he decided he couldn’t go another day without seeing you.

—

Exhausted from another late night at the office, you stepped out into the chilly evening air, adjusting your bag on your shoulder. Fatigue clung to you, making every step feel heavier. All you wanted was to go home and collapse into bed.

But as you descended the office steps, a familiar figure caught your eye—Jaehyun.

The sight of him only reignited the simmering anger you'd been trying to bury since your last argument. Without a second glance, you walked right past him, clutching your bag tightly. He blinked, briefly thrown off, before quickly following you, trying to keep pace.

"Y/N… can we talk?" he called, his voice almost pleading.

"We have nothing to talk about, Jaehyun," you replied, your gaze fixed straight ahead.

"Please… I need you to listen to me," he insisted, desperation edging into his tone.

"I already got your message, Jaehyun."

He frowned, confusion flashing across his face.

"What message, Y/N? I never even reached out to you yet."

"Exactly," you shot back, bitterness lacing your words. You stopped abruptly, finally turning to look at him, eyes cold. "No reply is a reply, don’t you get it?"

He fell silent, visibly taken aback by the weight of your words. You could see the hurt flicker across his face, but you refused to let it soften your resolve.

"Since when did you start seeing silence as a bad sign for us?" he murmured, searching your face. "We’ve shared so many moments in silence… yet I always felt connected to you. I thought you understood that."

You shook your head, feeling the frustration bubble over. "This is different, Jaehyun. You don’t understand—"

"Then make me understand!" he interrupted, his voice rising with urgency. "Let me in, Y/N. I know I should’ve reached out, and I'm trying to make up for it now. I was caught up with my schedule, the solo album, everything... but that’s not an excuse."

He took a shaky breath, his shoulders sagging.

"I'm just... shocked that my silence hurt you this much. I got so used to feeling your love, even in quiet moments, that I took it for granted. I thought you knew how much you mean to me without me having to say it."

You stood there, caught between shock and confusion, unsure whether to feel angry or softened by his words. He looked down, his gaze falling to the ground, as if ashamed.

"Jaehyun," you started slowly, "I think… I think I’m a bit lost."

He squeezed his eyes shut for a brief moment, before looking back up at you, a flicker of vulnerability in his gaze.

"I like you, Y/N. I really do. And the thought of living without you… I don’t think I can do it anymore."

The raw honesty in his words left you speechless, your emotions tangled in a knot you couldn’t quite unravel. Your mind and heart seemed to be waging a silent war, each pulling you in a different direction.

"Jaehyun," you finally whispered, barely able to find your voice. "I… I can't give you an answer right now."

He nodded slowly.

"I understand. And that's okay. Really. You can keep living your life, just as you are. But… if you ever find your way back to me along the way, I'll be here, waiting."

The two of you held each other's gaze, a shared softness settling over the tension. For a moment, it felt like the world had quieted around you, leaving just the fragile connection lingering between you. After a beat, he spoke again, his voice gentle.

"Let's just have dinner together. I can’t bear seeing you like this. Let me at least make sure you’re okay tonight."

You hesitated, but the sincerity in his eyes made it hard to refuse.

A short while later, you found yourselves seated at a quiet, tucked-away street bar. The dim lighting cast a soft, golden glow over the tables, creating a small bubble of warmth around you both. As you sat across from him, waiting for your food, an awkward silence settled between you.

“Thank you,” he finally said, breaking the silence. “For agreeing to this. I know things have been… complicated.”

“It’s just dinner, Jaehyun,” you murmured, but even as you said it, you both knew it was more than that.

“I know. But it’s been a while since we’ve done this—just sat together. I missed it.”, you stared at him, disbelief crossing your face.

"So, what made you finally reach out to me?"

The question seemed to catch him off guard. He shifted, his fingers tracing patterns on the table, clearly thrown by your directness. But you held his gaze, waiting, wanting nothing but the truth. Finally, he exhaled, as if releasing a breath he’d been holding for too long.

"Jeno told me about you," he admitted, his voice low.

Your eyes narrowed slightly, a mix of curiosity and surprise tugging at you. "What did he say?"

"He told me how you’ve been working late, how you've become more reserved, and… how you were hurting. And I knew I couldn’t just sit by and let that happen—not when I’m part of the reason."

His words hung heavy in the air, raw and unfiltered. For the first time, you saw a flicker of vulnerability in him, a glimpse of the struggle he’d been hiding beneath the image he showed to the world. You took a slow, deep breath, feeling a pang in your chest as you watched him.

"At first, I questioned everything you said during the argument, and I let my ego get in the way. I didn’t want to admit that maybe… maybe I was the one who let things get this far. I thought… maybe you’d be better off without me."

The honesty in his voice chipped away at something inside you, softening the wall you'd built around your heart, brick by brick. After a quiet moment, he spoke up again, even softer.

“I’ve missed you, Y/N. More than I realized, honestly.”

The sincerity in his eyes held you there, and for a brief moment, the walls you’d built around yourself began to soften. Just then, the waiter arrived with your drinks, placing them carefully on the table before slipping away. You took a small sip, feeling the warmth of the drink calm some of the tension lingering between you.

"Jaehyun," you began softly, choosing your words carefully. "I really like you. I like you a lot, maybe even more than I should," you confessed, and you saw his eyes light up, a flicker of hope sparking within him. But you quickly continued, grounding him.

"But I can't just jump into your arms because of that. Not when there's still a part of you—something in you—that I’m struggling to accept."

Jaehyun listened intently, his gaze unwavering, absorbing every word with an intensity that made your heart ache. He nodded, acknowledging the weight of what you were saying.

"I need time," you said, your voice barely above a whisper. "Time to think this through carefully, to be sure that I can handle everything that comes with loving you."

He took a deep breath, his expression softening with understanding. "I respect that. Take all the time you need. Just… let me show you that I can be better, that I can be someone worth waiting for."

The sincerity in his promise warmed something deep within you, a small glimmer of hope settling in your chest.

"Let's do that".

--

After that night, Jaehyun took your words to heart. He didn’t push or demand more than you were ready to give; instead, he let his actions do the talking. He slowly made his presence a comforting constant in your life. Despite the walls you’d built around your heart, you felt them weakening.

He started with the small things. He’d text you after your long workdays, asking how you were holding up or sharing a lighthearted story to lift your spirits. Occasionally, he’d wait for you outside your office building after a hectic day, bringing you to a nearby café or restaurant, where you’d chat about work, life, and everything in between over the meal. He’d simply sit and listen, his attention fully focused on you, as though you were the center of his world. In those moments, you felt truly loved.

But then came the grander gestures—the ones that truly took you by surprise and reminded you just how serious he was about making up for lost time.

On one of his overseas trips, he sent you a carefully wrapped package. Inside was a small, hand-carved music box with a delicate melody that played when you turned the handle. Alongside it was a note in his familiar handwriting.

“For when I can’t be there in person, I hope this brings you a bit of comfort. - Jaehyun”

The small gift warmed your heart, and you could almost picture him browsing through shops, trying to find something that would mean something to you. As the days passed, you found yourself reaching for the music box on nights when you missed him more than you wanted to admit.

One evening, he invited you out to dinner, insisting it was just a casual meal. But when you arrived, you realized he’d gone out of his way to reserve a table at a restaurant you’d mentioned in passing, one you’d wanted to visit for ages. The thoughtfulness behind each gesture made it clear—he was listening, paying attention to the details you sometimes didn’t even remember sharing.

After dinner, the night felt lighter, as though a fragile peace had settled between you. As you both walked out of the restaurant, Jaehyun glanced at you, his expression hopeful but cautious.

“Would you… like to come over?” he asked softly. “I could show you some of the tracks from the album.”

“Sure,” you replied with a gentle smile.

He led you to his place, a quiet but cozy apartment just like how you remember it was. As you entered his place, you immediately noticed the shelves lined with LPs which was new since the last time you visit, each one carefully organized. Jaehyun led you to the collection, his face lighting up as he pulled a few records out to show you.

"These are some of my favorites," he explained, flipping through the collection with an easy familiarity. He held up his own LP, his album, with a hint of pride and vulnerability in his eyes.

"Have you heard my album?" he asked, his tone soft, almost uncertain.

You shook your head. “Not like this for sure. I was… waiting for the right moment, I guess.”

You hesitated, glancing at the LP in his hands. “Honestly… I think I was a little scared to listen deeply,” you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper.

Jaehyun’s brows furrowed, a look of gentle curiosity on his face.

“Scared? Why?”

You sighed, searching for the right words.

“I was afraid I’d hear… parts of you that you’d given to someone else. Your songs comes from a place of real emotion. The way you write, the way you sing—I could tell.” You sighed, searching for the right words. “I didn’t know if I was ready to face how much you loved someone else.”

For a moment, silence filled the space between you, broken only by the soft hum of the record player. Jaehyun looked at you, his expression shifting from surprise to something tender and understanding. He gently placed the LP onto the player, setting the needle down carefully.

“Then let me share it with you now. These songs… it’s a part of my journey, but it doesn’t define where my heart is now,” he said with his gaze soft on you.

He gestured for you to sit on the couch, and you settled in beside him, a comfortable closeness forming as you listened. The gentle strains of his voice surrounded you, and in that moment, you felt the walls between you begin to melt away. With each track, you could feel his heart and effort poured into the music—every beat, every melody felt like a glimpse into parts of him he’d never fully shared before. You found yourself leaning in, absorbed by the rawness in each song.

“How does it feel?” he asked, his voice barely above a whisper, as if not to disrupt the music or the moment.

“Feels like I should have listened to it sooner,” forming a smile at your face as you turned to him.

A quiet joy softened his face, and he settled back into the couch, content. The music continued to flow around you both. As the last notes faded, you slowly got up from the couch. Moving over to the record player, you reached down to adjust the LP, prepared to reset it for another play.

Just as you turned around, ready to ask if he wanted to listen again. But when you turned, you found him leaning back against the cushions, his eyes closed, his breathing slow and steady—fast asleep.

A faint smile tugged at the corners of your lips. For all the intensity and energy he had shared with you tonight, he looked peaceful now, almost childlike, as though he’d finally allowed himself to rest. You walked over quietly, taking a seat next to him, your gaze lingering on his sleeping face.

“He must be really tired”, you thought.

In the silence, you found yourself tracing the memories of every little thing he’d done. His thoughtfulness, his attentiveness—it all added up to something deeper, a love that went beyond words. Each one making it harder for you to keep your walls up.

After a while, you entered a room quietly to reach for a blanket, the dim light casting soft shadows over everything. As you looked around, your eyes landed on a small picture frame on the bedside table. The photo was faced down, but on the back, in Jaehyun's familiar handwriting.

Love.

Curiosity tingled in your chest, and with a hesitant hand, you reached out and flipped the photo over. Your breath caught when you saw the image—a Polaroid of you, taken at the day you promised to tell your feelings when you held in his. You remembered the day, the laughter, the way he’d been looking at you just before he snapped the picture. It was one of those moments you didn’t think he’d remember, yet here it was, tucked close to where he rested.

You carefully draped the blanket over him, tucking it around his shoulders. But as you leaned forward, Jaehyun stirred, his eyes fluttering open, a bit disoriented as he took in his surroundings.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t meant to fall asleep—” he mumbled, his voice laced with sleep, eyes blinking up at you.

You remained silent, your emotions laid bare by the tears that still clung to your lashes. His gaze softened as he noticed them, his brow furrowing in quiet concern.

“Are you… okay?” he asked gently, his hand lifting to brushing your arm to comfort.

You closed your eyes briefly, gathering the courage to voice what had been lingering in your mind. When you finally looked at him, your voice was barely a whisper.

“Can I… can I kiss you?”

For a moment, silence filled the room, his expression shifting from surprise to something deeper, something almost vulnerable. He leaned in closer, giving you the answer, the distance between you dissolving until your lips met in a soft, tender kiss—one that seemed to carry everything unsaid between you both.

As you pulled away, he looked at you, his gaze searching.

“What happened?”, his voice barely audible, as if afraid to break the fragile moment between you.

Without a word, you reached into your pocket and pulled out the polaroid you had found in his room. Jaehyun’s eyes widened slightly, his breath catching as he realized what you’d found. He opened his mouth to say something, but no words came. Instead, he looked at you with a vulnerability he rarely showed, his gaze filled with emotions he had kept hidden.

“You kept this,” you whispered, your voice wavering as you traced the edges of the photo. “All this time… you kept this.”

He nodded, a small, almost shy smile tugging at the corners of his lips.

“I couldn’t let it go,” he admitted softly, fingers brushing over the polaroid. “It reminded me of what I couldn’t say out loud.”

Tears pricked your eyes again, but this time, they were mixed with the warmth of understanding, the realization of how deeply he felt, even if he hadn’t always known how to show it.

Reaching into your bag, you pulled out a polaroid—a picture of Jaehyun. You held it in your hand, feeling its familiar weight. On the back, in your handwriting, was the word Love, mirroring the same word on his photo of you.

Finally, you handed it to him, and Jaehyun’s eyes softened as he realized you had kept this silent connection close. Then, without warning, he wrapped his arms around you, pulling you into a tight embrace. You could feel the steady beat of his heart against your own, his warmth surrounding you like a shield.

“I love you,” he whispered into your hair, his voice filled with a quiet conviction. “I’m sorry it took me so long to tell you, to show you.”

The words you had longed to hear settled into the quiet spaces of your heart, filling the emptiness you hadn’t even realized was there.

“I love you too, Jaehyun,” you murmured back, feeling the weight of your shared confessions settle between you like a promise.

With a soft smile, he pulled you closer. His arms hold you securely as you rest against his chest. The room was filled with a comforting silence, broken only by the steady rhythm of his breathing. Gradually, your eyes grew heavy, the exhaustion of the night and the emotional weight finally catching up with you.

With one last glance at each other, you let yourselves drift off, content and safe in each other's arms. For the first time, neither of you felt the need to say anything more—everything had already been said in the way you held each other, two hearts finally at rest.

--

Two years later, you both found yourselves on a long-awaited vacation in Japan, a trip you’d talked about countless times. After Jaehyun’s military service, you were grateful for the time he had before diving back into his schedule. And for you, ever since the break you took during your suspension, you’ve improved tremendously at work. Recognizing the benefit of rest, your company has even begun encouraging employees to take breaks now and then.

Now, riding the train through a breathtaking winter landscape, you both watched in awe as snow blanketed the world outside, each flake catching the soft, wintry light. The quiet rhythm of the tracks provided the perfect backdrop, bringing a sense of peace to all the hard work that had led you here.

You leaned closer to the window, mesmerized by the beauty—the trees dusted with snow, rooftops transformed into sugar-coated sculptures, the whole world cloaked in a serene white glow. It felt like a scene from a dream.

Jaehyun, watching you with a soft smile, felt warmth rise in his chest as he took in your wonderstruck expression. Suddenly, drawn to the moment, he leaned in and pressed a gentle kiss to your cheek. You turned, a little startled, only to find him inches away, his gaze warm and steady.

“That was a surprise,” you laughed, cheeks warming as he smiled back.

"Your just so beautiful", his eyes shining.

The train eventually stopped at a small station, and Jaehyun led you toward a quaint post office nearby. He’d planned this little detour—this spot was known for its “love letter” tradition, where visitors could write and send letters to each other that would arrive years later. Jaehyun handed you a pen and paper, a mischievous glint in his eyes, as he nodded toward a desk set up in the corner.

“Let’s write something for each other,” Jaehyun suggested, he handed you a pen and a fresh sheet of paper, gesturing toward a small desk in the corner.

“Okay, no peeking, alright?” you teased.

Jaehyun smiled, a playful glint flashing across his face. He nodded, giving you space as you sat down at the desk. The pen in your hand felt heavier than it should have as if the words you were about to write were more than just ink on paper.

Both of you wrote in silence, the soft scratch of pens filling the room. You tried to focus on your words, but your mind kept returning to Jaehyun. There was so much you wanted to say, so much you hadn’t yet admitted. But for now, this letter would be the way you could say it without speaking.

When you finished, you folded the paper carefully, sealing your thoughts inside. You watched as Jaehyun did the same. He didn’t look at you, but there was something about the way he held his letter that made your heart race.

He looked up, his eyes meeting yours. The playful energy between you had shifted, replaced by something deeper, something more serious. Without a word, Jaehyun reached out, taking your letter from your hands before handing you his.

"You look serious," you remarked, a soft hint of curiosity in your voice.

For a moment, you stared at the letter in your hands, uncertain, feeling the weight of the moment settle around you. Jaehyun’s voice broke the silence, softer than before, yet filled with an unmistakable certainty.

“I think we both know this is more than just a letter,” he said, his gaze unwavering.

You hesitated for a moment, then gently unfolded the paper. To your surprise, it wasn't the long, elaborate love letter you had expected from him, but a simple, heartfelt message. As you read the words carefully, a deep emotion stirred within you, each sentence carrying more weight than the last, settling in your chest like a promise you never thought you'd receive.

"Y/N, let me love you forever. Marry me"

Your heart stopped as you looked up at him, eyes wide with disbelief. There he was, the man who’d become everything to you, standing before you with all of his heart laid bare in front of you.

Jaehyun slowly took your hand, his other hand still holding his own letter, his voice barely a whisper. “Will you marry me?”

For a moment, the world seemed to stand still. The air around you felt thick with the weight of his words, his quiet question hanging between you like the most fragile thing in the universe. Your heart pounded in your chest, too fast to comprehend, too full to contain.

You stared at him, your breath catching in your throat as you looked into his eyes—those eyes that had been with you through everything, the eyes that had seen you at your best and your worst. And now, they were waiting for you to answer, waiting for you to take that leap with him.

“Yes,” you whispered, your voice trembling with emotion. “Yes, Jaehyun. I’ll marry you.”

The words felt like they had been waiting a lifetime to escape your lips, and the moment they did, a wave of warmth and relief washed over you both. Jaehyun’s face lit up with an overwhelming joy, his eyes sparkling, as though a burden he didn’t even realize he’d been carrying had finally been lifted.

Without a word, he pulled you into his arms, holding you close, his embrace tightening as if to make sure you were real, that this was really happening. You felt the steady beat of his heart against yours, and for the first time, everything felt perfectly aligned, as though the world had conspired to bring you both to this very moment.

Jaehyun pulled back just enough to look at you, his hand cupping your cheek tenderly. His voice, soft and full of emotion, slipped from his lips. “I love you. I’ll love you forever, Y/N.”

And as he kissed you, gently and full of promise, you knew that this was only the beginning of the beautiful life you would share together.

-- ˚˖𓍢ִ໋`🌿:✧˚.📷⋆𖧧 --

[meazalykov]

taken back by your actions

sydney lohmann x reader

all of your relationships get sabotaged, and you do not know why

warnings: sydney being a bit possessive but nothing too much

you still remember the day you walked out of arsenal's training ground for the last time. the weight pressing down on your shoulders had become unbearable, suffocating even. 

every interaction with jonas felt like another nail driven into your resolve, chipping away at your love for the game. the way that you hated stepping on the pitch for this man was something that you did not realize for a while. his constant criticism lingered like an unwelcome shadow, twisting your passion into something unrecognizable.

it was as if every word he spoke was designed to remind you of your shortcomings, of how you were never quite enough for his vision of the team.

the nights in london became longer, the silence of your flat heavy with regret and frustration. you hated this. you hated this shit! you’d catch glimpses of your reflection in the darkened windows, eyes tired and spirit battered. 

north london’s vibrancy faded, replaced by the monochrome routine of surviving each day under his scrutiny. teammates whispered their sympathies, even though they were going through the same thing themselves.. but no one could truly understand the hollow ache of feeling unwanted in a place that was supposed to be your sanctuary.

when the offer from bayern came, it felt like a lifeline tossed into your stormy seas. munich was the light in a place where you could breathe again, where you could actually find joy in playing again. 

the transition wasn’t without its challenges. the german city was foreign, its streets winding and unfamiliar. the mornings started with the crisp air of bavaria brushing against your cheeks as you made your way to training.

later on… the girls at bayern welcomed you with open arms. tuva was the first to reach out, her warm smile and infectious laughter making the locker room feel less daunting. she was a whirlwind of energy, eager to include you in team traditions, making you feel like a part of the family from the start. 

training was different here… more driven you shall say. it was intense too, but without the undercurrent of judgment you’d grown accustomed to.

you felt nostalgia when you played against georgia during a 1v1 in training, you guys used to battle it out during those manchester city vs arsenal games a long time ago.

overtime throghout the season.. there were evenings spent at georgia’s too, everyone was crowded around her tiny kitchen, the smell of homemade food filling the space while laughter echoed off the walls.

the days blended into a rhythm. you were still healing, pieces of your past lurking in the corners of your mind, but you were not in london anymore. you felt the beginnings of something you thought you had lost...hope.

in munich, you met a girl who you were hitting it off with. 

maeve. 

maeve was a pretty, very tall, model. the red hair of hers matched her freckles and her olive medium toned skin. maeve was kind, yet knew how to stand up for herself. she was creative, knew how to take art seriously, and y/n thought that maeve was someone that she wanted while living here in munich. 

things were good for a good month and a half. you always saw maeve after your trainings, the girl even came to one of your games against frankfurt. however, you first noticed something was off with maeve when she stopped replying as quickly. 

the late-night conversations you used to have, the playful teasing, the way she’d send voice notes just to hear your laugh…it all faded into a long silence. 

at first, you thought she was just busy. i mean.. your football schedules were demanding, and you understood that maeve was probably busy with her model work. 

suddenly, you realized that maeve ghosted you entirely.  

you never got an explanation. just a cold, quiet withdrawal, like she had never been interested in the first place. it stung, but you moved on, or at least tried to. 

when you met stevie, just two months after maeve left.. you thought maybe things would be different. stevie was confident, her blonde smooth hair matching her words, and she had this ridiculous way of making you laugh at the most inappropriate times. 

you liked her…maybe not head-over-heels yet, but you liked her.  

then, it happened again.  

stevie started pulling away, just like maeve had. the blonde’s texts turned into one-word answers, her playful flirting disappeared.

before you knew it, she was gone too.  

except this time, you knew why.  

you had seen it with your own eyes.  

that night at the bar, you had been with the bayern girls, unwinding after a tough match the night before, when you saw stevie at the counter, nursing a drink and laughing at something. 

you hadn’t planned to intrude until you noticed who she was laughing with.  

sydney.  

your stomach turned as you watched them, sydney leaning in close, eyes sharp with intention. her hand grazed stevie’s arm, her lips curled into something undeniably flirtatious. it wasn’t just friendly banter…it was calculated. 

of course… just a few days later, stevie was gone. just like maeve.  

that’s when the fury set in.  

a week later.. the locker room was packed before the game against hoffenheim, but you didn’t care. 

you stormed in, ignoring the looks, how all of the girls were in harmony while tying their boots. however, the girls noticed the air shifting as you marched straight toward sydney, who had just sat down on the bench, wiping the sweat from her forehead.  

“taking other people’s girls? are you kidding me?” your voice was sharp, unwavering, slicing through the room like a blade. 

conversations around you died instantly. 

all eyes turned to the two of you.  

sydney blinked up at you, feigning confusion. 

“what the hell are you talking about?”  

“don’t play dumb,” you shot back, your hands clenched at your sides. 

“first maeve, now stevie? what, you just get some sick pleasure out of ruining the talking stages of every girl i talk to?”  

sydney exhaled, shaking her head. 

“you don’t know what you’re saying.”  

“oh, i know exactly what i’m saying.” you took a step closer, not caring how your voice raised. 

“you couldn’t even be subtle about it this time. you were all over stevie that night, and next thing i know, she’s done with me. just like maeve. what is your problem?”  

sydney looked away, jaw tight. 

“you wouldn’t understand.”  

you scoffed. 

“try me.”  

sydney looked up.

“its not like you guys were officially together anyways y/n, relax.“

silence. sydney’s fingers curled around the towel in her lap, knuckles whitening. you weren’t sure what you were expecting, but the lack of an answer only ignited your anger further.  

“you’re pathetic.” the words slipped out before you could stop them, laced with frustration and betrayal. 

“i actually thought you had some worth.”  

the second the words left your mouth, magda was there, her arms wrapping around your waist from behind.  

“that’s enough,” she murmured, voice firm yet gentle as she physically lifted you away. your feet barely skimmed the floor as she hauled you out of the locker room, your rage still burning hot.  

inside, the girls were silent for a moment before klara spoke up.  

“okay, but seriously,” she said, staring straight at sydney, 

“what the hell is your problem with y/n? you’re acting like a jealous ex.”  

a few of the girls snickered, but sydney didn’t even flinch. the german’s gaze was locked on the door you had just been carried through, something unreadable in her expression.  

klara tilted her head. 

“wait.” her eyes narrowed. 

“are you actually—oh my god!”  

“what?” georgia leaned in.  

klara turned to face the rest of the room, looking somewhere between amused and utterly exasperated. 

“sydney has a thing for y/n.”  

the locker room erupted in noise. shocked gasps, laughter, disbelief. tuva nearly choked on her water.  

sydney groaned, burying her face in her hands. 

“shut up.”  

two months passed, and you didn’t speak to sydney. 

not once.  

she noticed. oh, she noticed.  

she noticed in the way you didn’t even glance at her in training, how you ignored her presence completely. she noticed in the way you laughed with georgia, leaned into lena and lea during team outings, but never even stood near her. 

she noticed in the way her name left your vocabulary entirely, as if she had never been a part of your life to begin with.  

and it was killing her.  

so when she finally got you alone in the locker room, when it was just the two of you left in the quiet space, she cracked.  

“i did it because i wanted you.”  

the words came out rushed, raw, like she had been holding them in for years. 

you had just finished untying your cleats when you froze, looking up at her with a furrowed brow.  

“what?”  

sydney exhaled sharply, running a hand through her hair. 

“i hated seeing you with those people. maeve, stevie…god, it was fucking unbearable. they didn’t deserve you. they didn’t even see you the way i do.”  

your chest tightened, confusion laced with something deeper. 

“what the fuck are you talking about, sydney?”  

she stepped closer, her voice quieter now, but just as intense. 

“i wanted you for myself, y/n. i wanted you before i even realized it. after that champions league match while you were at arsenal, after we tackled each other…fuck, i hated you for a second, but then i looked at you, like really looked at you, and suddenly i couldn’t think about anything else.”  

your breath hitched. 

“sydney—”  

“i know i went about it the wrong way,” she admitted, voice hoarse. 

“i know i was an idiot. but i couldn’t stand seeing you fall for people who didn’t even know half the things about you that i do.” she swallowed hard, finally meeting your gaze. 

“i didn’t know what else to do.”  

silence stretched between you. the weight of her words, the weight of everything she had done, settled over the space like a thick fog.  

you should have been angry. you should have called her out for her ridiculous behavior, told her she had no right to sabotage your relationships.  

instead, you found yourself staring at her, really seeing her for the first time.  

she was nervous. the german’s fingers twitched at her sides, her jaw was tight, her usually confident demeanor fractured by vulnerability.  

suddenly, the anger melted just a little.  

“you’re so stupid,” you muttered, shaking your head.  

sydney blinked. 

“what?”  

you exhaled, finally standing up, closing the space between you. 

“if you wanted me, you could have just said so.”  

sydney’s lips parted slightly, but no words came. 

you reached out, letting your fingers brush against hers, and she sucked in a quiet breath.  

“but if you ever pull that shit again,” you added, voice softer now, “we’re done before we even start.”  

her eyes searched yours. 

“does this mean—”  

“it means you’ve got a chance,” you said, squeezing her fingers. 

“but you better not be shy now, because i don’t do the whole ‘shy and stupid’ thing.”  

a slow, stunned smile spread across her lips. 

“okay,” she breathed. 

“okay.”

you glanced at her lips for just a second before leaning in, pressing a soft kiss to the corner of her mouth, lingering just enough to watch her breath hitch. 

"everyone's outside waiting for training to start," you murmured against her skin, pulling back slightly.  

sydney didn’t let you go far…her hand curled around your wrist, tugging you right back in as she captured your lips properly this time, deep and certain. when she finally pulled away, a smirk played on her face. 

“you missed the first time.”  

you huffed a quiet laugh, shaking your head. 

“i didn’t miss. i was just teasing.”  

sydney rolled her eyes before gripping your waist, spinning you both around as she pulled you out of the locker room, her hand firm against your side, making sure you stayed close.

masterlist

[imloyaltoscoups]

first and last | kim mingyu

As you sit on the soft grass, the gentle breeze playing with your hair, you glance over at Mingyu, a warm smile on your lips. "Mingoo, remember our first meeting?" you ask, your voice filled with nostalgia. "It feels like we were in a K-drama," you continue, your eyes sparkling with fond memories. "I still get butterflies remembering that," you add, your heart fluttering at the thought of that magical moment when your paths first crossed.

You're standing in line for the Full Throttle at Six Flags, surrounded by the excited chatter of fellow thrill-seekers. Ahead of you, a group of guys catches your attention as they cheer on a towering figure, Mingyu, who stands at a formidable 6 feet tall. You overhear one of them, Minghao, encouraging Mingyu to conquer his fears.

"Come on, Mingyu, you've got this! Conquer those fears! You're a big man!" Minghao exclaims, his voice filled with determination.

But Mingyu's response surprises you, as he defiantly declares, "Fck the fears, I'm gonna die riding that," He points towards the looming roller coaster with a mixture of fear and determination.

A smile tugs at your lips as you observe Mingyu's resolve, wondering why someone of his stature would be afraid of heights. The banter continues among the group, with another guy chiming in, offering Mingyu $500 just to take on the roller coaster challenge.

"Hey, Gyu, I'll give you $500 if you ride it!" the guy exclaims, his offer adding a new layer of excitement to the atmosphere. Jeonghan, another member of the group, joins in with a playful grin, egging Mingyu on.

As you watch the scene unfold, you can't help but be amused by the mix of comradeship and friendly dares among the group. It's moments like these that make waiting in line at an amusement park just as memorable as the rides themselves.

You began ponder the tempting offer of $500 for conquering a fear, you can't help but imagine yourself in Mingyu's shoes. The allure of the cash prize seems almost irresistible, and you find yourself mentally calculating all the things you could do with the extra money.

Just as Mingyu hesitates, contemplating the proposition, another voice cuts in. It's Soonyoung, one of the guys in the group, offering up an alternative deal that raises the stakes even higher.

"I'll do all your chores for a whole year, and Seungkwan can be your personal slave for five months," Soonyoung declares confidently, his eyes twinkling mischievously.

Seungkwan, caught off guard by the unexpected proposal, quickly interjects with a hint of displeasure, "What do you mean I'll be a slave?! Why am I even inserted to this conversation??!!"

The sudden turn in the conversation adds a new layer of amusement to the group's banter, as Seungkwan protests while Soonyoung looks on, clearly enjoying the playful exchange. Meanwhile, Mingyu is left contemplating his options, torn between the promise of financial reward and the entertaining offers being thrown his way.

With a resigned sigh and a hint of determination, Mingyu nods in agreement to Soonyoung's offer. However, before sealing the deal, he decides to play it safe and ensure there's solid proof of the promises made.

Pulling out his phone, he turns to his friends, a serious expression on his face. "Alright, guys, I need you to repeat all the words you just promised," he says, his tone firm yet fair.

One by one, Mingyu's friends oblige, reciting their pledges with varying degrees of enthusiasm. Soonyoung reaffirms his commitment to take on all of Mingyu's chores for a year, while Seungkwan reluctantly acknowledges his role as a "personal slave" for five months, though not without some grumbling. Jeonghan then showed his $500 stating he will give it to him after the ride.

Each promise is recorded on Mingyu's phone, a sense of accountability settles over the group, turning their lighthearted banter into a more official agreement. With the evidence safely captured, Mingyu nods in satisfaction, ready to face the challenge ahead with the added assurance that his friends will uphold their end of the bargain.

As the first batch of riders exits, the crew signals for the next group of eighteen to step forward. You eagerly join the line, deciding to sit at the front of the ride, convinced that the experience will be more thrilling there. As you take your seat, you notice Mingyu trembling in the front row, clearly anxious. Settling in beside him, you can hear him muttering under his breath, rethinking his life choices with every passing second.

“I can’t believe I agreed to this,” Mingyu murmurs, his voice filled with a mix of dread and resolve. “Why did I let them talk me into this? $500 isn’t worth my life…I’m going to die," Mingyu whispers, his voice shaky.

You feel torn between laughing at the absurdity of the situation and feeling pity for him. Despite Mingyu being a stranger, you instinctively reach out your hand to offer some comfort. He looks at your hand, hesitant and unsure.

When the crew member approaches to check your safety belt, Mingyu finally decides to take your hand. His grip is cold as ice, and you can see his face growing paler by the moment, knowing the ride will start any second now.

"It’s going to be okay," you say softly, trying to reassure him, even though you’re not sure if your words will help.

Mingyu squeezes your hand tighter, his eyes shut tightly as the ride's mechanisms begin to clank and whir, signaling the imminent start. You both take a deep breath as the coaster jolts forward, ready to face the thrill together.

As the roller coaster starts its ascent, the excitement of Mingyu's friends in the other rows fills the air. You hear Dokyeom's panicked cries to be let out, his voice rising above the din of the crowd.

"Let me out! Let me out!" Dokyeom shouts desperately, his fear palpable.

Jeonghan tries to offer some reassurance, albeit in a slightly unconventional way. "Just close your eyes and pretend you're a pigeon," he suggests, though it doesn't seem to do much to calm Dokyeom, who's now screaming at the top of his lungs.

Glancing over at Mingyu, you see him holding onto your hand tightly, his knuckles turning white as he grips the lap bar with his other hand. Despite his own fear, he seems determined to weather the ride, finding comfort in your presence.

You give Mingyu's hand a reassuring squeeze, offering silent support as the coaster climbs higher and higher. As the roller coaster reaches its peak, the breathtaking view spreads out before you, captivating your senses with its beauty. You turn to Mingyu, a smile on your face as you encourage him to open his eyes and take in the magnificent panorama.

"Wow, look at that view," you exclaim, nudging Mingyu gently, hoping to share the moment of awe with him.

But as Mingyu reluctantly opens his eyes, the ride suddenly lurches forward, the ground dropping away beneath you with heart-stopping speed. A string of colorful curses spills from Mingyu's lips, his voice tinged with a mix of fear and exhilaration.

"Son of a—! Oh, sh Why now?! Fu—ck!" Mingyu's voice cuts through the rush of wind as the coaster hurtles downward with grand acceleration.

You both cling to the safety bars, the wind whipping past you as gravity pulls you faster and faster towards the ground below. Mingyu's curses mix with the exhilarated screams of your fellow riders, creating a chaotic symphony of sound that fills the air.

Despite the adrenaline coursing through your veins, you can't help but feel a rush of exhilaration as the coaster races along its twisting track, each twist and turn adding to the thrill of the ride.

As the roller coaster screeches to a halt, bringing the adrenaline-fueled ride to an end, you can't help but let out a laugh, the exhilaration still coursing through your veins.

"Well, that was fun!" you exclaim, turning to your seatmate with a grin. "Again!"

But as you glance at Mingyu, you notice that he seems to have melded with the seat, his body limp and drained from the intense experience. Concern washes over you, and you gently remove your hand from his and reach out to touch his cheek and forehead.

"Hey, you good?" you ask softly, your voice filled with genuine worry.

Mingyu lets out a tired murmur, his words barely audible amidst the post-ride chaos. "That… that'll be the first and last," he mumbles, his tone a mixture of exhaustion and relief.

You nod understandingly, realizing that the roller coaster may have been a bit too much for him. With a comforting pat on his shoulder, you reassure him that it's alright, grateful that you were able to experience the thrill together, even if it was just for this one time.

As the crew begins to unbuckle the seat restraints, you notice Mingyu struggling to stand, his legs feeling like jelly after the adrenaline rush. Nearby, Dokyeom looks equally wobbly, his friend Joshua supporting him on his shoulder.

"Whoa, easy there," Joshua says, steadying Dokyeom as he tries to regain his balance.

Seeing Mingyu in a similar state, some of his friends rush over to offer their support and encouragement.

"You did great, Mingyu! That was wild!" one of them exclaims, patting him on the back.

"Yeah, you conquered your fear like a champ!" another adds, offering a helping hand to help him stand.

With Mingyu surrounded by his friends, you realize that your role in comforting him is over. Excusing yourself politely, you decide to seek out your own friends.

As you make your way through the crowd, thoughts of the thrilling rides ahead fill you with excitement. It's time to involve your friends once again in your own extreme rides adventures.

__

Exhaustion begins to settle in, and some of your friends are busy dealing with the aftermath of the extreme rides—whether it's puking or cursing you—you can't help but feel your stomach rumble with hunger.

"Man, I'm getting hungry," you remark to your friends, the weariness evident in your voice.

Inspired by a sudden burst of generosity (or perhaps guilt for dragging them into this mess), you decide to treat your friends to a meal. After all, nothing soothes the soul like some good food, right?

After successfully treating your friends, you find yourself in line for food alongside Mingyu, who seems to share your craving.

"Hey there," you greet him with a friendly smile. "Hungry after all that excitement?"

Mingyu returns the smile, nodding enthusiastically. "Yeah! All that adrenaline has left me starving."

As you wait in line together, a thought crosses your mind, and you decide to strike up a conversation.

"So, did you ever get that reward for your bravery?" you ask, curious about the outcome of Mingyu's daredevil feat.

Mingyu's eyes light up as he proudly displays the crisp bills in his hand, a wide grin spreading across his face. "$500, baby!" he exclaims, his excitement palpable.

You nod approvingly, impressed by his reward. "Congratulations, well deserve!" you congratulate him sincerely.

As you both reach the front of the line and collect your food, you excuse yourself politely. Mingyu nods in understanding, but before you can walk away, he speaks up.

"Hey, wait!" he calls out, causing you to pause and turn back to him.

"Yeah?" you respond, curious about what he wants to say.

Mingyu's expression is earnest as he asks, "What's your name?"

You chuckle at his sudden inquiry. "It's Y/N," you reply, raising your voice slightly so he can hear over the bustling crowd.

"Got it! Thanks, Y/N!" he calls back with a smile, waving as you continue on your way back to your friends.

As the day at the theme park unfolds, you and Mingyu continue to cross paths, it seems like fate keeps bringing you together, each encounter more unexpected than the last. Eventually, the groups decided to merge into one, seamlessly blending into a single entourage of lowkey party animals.

Suddenly, one of your friends spots a photobooth and suggests giving it a try. Excited by the idea, they start pairing up for photos. Just as you're about to join in, you feel a tap on your shoulder and turn to see Mingyu standing there, a hopeful look in his eyes.

"Uhm, Y/N, do you want to take a picture with me?" he asks, a hint of nervousness in his voice.

A smile spreads across your face at the unexpected invitation. "Sure, I'd love to!" you reply enthusiastically, touched by Mingyu's gesture.

As you both step into the photobooth together, the anticipation builds. The photobooth flashes and captures each moment, you and Mingyu let loose, allowing your personalities to shine through in each snapshot. The photos turn out to be a delightful mix of candid and playful moments, portraying a sense of genuine connection and warmth between you.

In one picture, you both share a laugh, caught in a moment of pure joy as you exchange playful banter. In another, Mingyu wraps his arms around your shoulder (hugging you from behind), pulling you close as you flash matching grins at the camera. Each image exudes an undeniable sense of closeness and affection, making it seem as though you're more than just friends enjoying a day out at the theme park.

As you both step out of the photobooth, you can't help but admire the adorable pictures that now serve as a tangible reminder of the bond you share with him. With a smile, you tuck the photo strip into your pocket, knowing that these snapshots will be treasured for years to come, capturing a moment that felt like love in its purest form.

As the day draws to a close at the amusement park, Mingyu musters up the courage to ask for your number, his expression hopeful yet tinged with a hint of nervousness.

"Hey, Y/N, can I have your number?" he asks, his voice soft but determined.

A warm feeling washes over you as you realize that this might be the beginning of something special. "Of course," you reply with a smile, eagerly sharing your contact information with him.

As you exchange numbers, a sense of excitement bubbles within you, and you can't help but wonder if this could be love at first sight for both of you.

__

Fast forward to the present, you find yourself holding the photobooth picture you took with Mingyu all those years ago. The memories come flooding back, and a pang of longing grips your heart as you realize just how much you miss him.

"I really miss you, my Mingoo," you murmur softly, your voice trembling with emotion. Tears gather in your eyes as you gaze at the picture, wishing desperately that he could still be with you.

Turning towards Mingyu's tombstone, you reach out a trembling hand to touch it, tears cascading down your cheeks. "I wish you were still here," you whisper, your words filled with sorrow and longing.

....... ≿━━━━༺MINGYU༻━━━━≾ .......

[thepenultimateword]

Hello everyone! As October approaches, I've been hearing a lot about the very popular Whumptober. However, since I'm not much of a whump writer, I decided to go ahead and make my own Flufftober challenge!

For those who don't already know, this challenge involves following a prompt for each day in October. I am writing blog, so I'll be writing, but feel free to follow these prompts in the medium of your choice! Also, you can participate as much or as little as you like. Technically, the challenge is for the entire month, but if there's a day you're not vibing with the prompt or you just don't have time, don't stress. This is purely for fun.

If you're not one for pure fluff, flangst (fluff/angst) is also perfectly acceptable.

Let me know if you have any questions! I hope you enjoy!

P.S. I'd love to see what you all come up with! So if you so choose to share, tag me in your posts or use the tag #flufftober2024 (however others creators have also made their own flufftobrs, so things will get mixed up a bit)

Flufftober 2024 Prompts

Day 1: Rainstorm

Day 2: Fireplace

Day 3: Sweater Day

4: Apple Cider

Day 5: Hurt/Comfort

Day 6: Cuddles

Day 7: Protective

Day 8: Secret Relationship

Day 9: Sickfic

Day 10: Pumpkin Patch

Day 11: Hugs and Kisses

Day 12: Blankets

Day 13: Harvest Festival

Day 14 Coffee Shop

Day 15: Ghost

Day 16: Sweet Treat

Day 17: Breakfast

Day 18: Nostalgia

Day 19: Scary Movie

Day 20: Reunion

Day 21: Sleepy

Day 22: Whisper

Day 23: Finally Safe

Day 24: Confession

Day 25: Holding Hands

Day 26: Monster

Day 27: Cleaning up

Day 28: Embarrassed

Day 29: Leaf Fight

Day 30: Roadtrip

Day 31: Found Family

[pinkslipxox]

love love love mom Billie could you do something when their teens?

hey my love!! Eeek yes ofc! Love you 🙈😘

——————————————————————————

Billie sat in her home studio, surrounded by an eclectic mix of instruments, soundboards, and a wall covered in inspirational artwork and song lyrics. The familiar hum of her recording equipment created a comforting backdrop as she worked on the latest track that had been swirling in her mind.

Yet as the clock ticked closed to midnight, Billie felt an odd wave of motherly instincts overcome her. She could sense something was off, and following her instincts, she got up from her desk and walked towards her daughters’ shared bedroom, her heart racing with both curiosity and concern.

Billie panicked for a moment when she saw the two empty beds, but at the slight sound of muffled giggles and keys jingling, relief washed over her. She instinctively followed the sound to the front door. There, in the dim light of the hallway, were her twin daughters, both in their late teens, huddled together and whispering conspiratorially. They were dressed for a night out, hair perfectly styled, and a mischievous spark in their eyes.

Just then, Ava turned to the front door, her hand poised over the knob, while Mia peeked over her shoulder, clearly less sure about their plan. Before she could take another step, Billie cleared her throat, stepping into the light, her presence immediate and unwavering.

"Well, well, what do we have here?" Billie asked, crossing her arms with a teasing authority.

Both girls froze, a mixture of shock and guilt flashing across their faces. Mia, with her dark hair framing her face, managed a sheepish grin, while Ava’s eyes widened, panic setting in as she quickly dropped her hand from the door.

“Um, nothing!” the first daughter, Ava, replied quickly, looking guilty.

“We were just, uh…” Mia stammered, her face pale.

Billie held up a hand, interrupting the girls’ stuttering excuses. “I can do this the easy way or the hard way,” she said, her tone playful yet firm.

Ava exchanged a nervous look with Mia. “What’s the easy way?” she asked hesitantly.

“If you want to go out, just ask. I might surprise you and say yes!” Billie replied with a grin, softening the moment. “But if you try to sneak out on me, it means I’ll have to wake up your mother—which, believe me, is the hard way.”

The twins exchanged dubious looks, the fear of waking Y/N settling in their minds. Y/N was known for her fierce protectiveness and would undoubtedly ground them for a month if she discovered their late-night plans.

“So, what’s it gonna be?” Billie pressed, amusement glinting in her eyes.

Mia groaned dramatically. “Mom, we’re not trying to be sneaky! We just wanted a little freedom.”

Billie softened her gaze and walked closer. “I get it,” she said gently. “You two are growing up, and I completely understand wanting to hang out with your friends. But you know I worry about you.”

Ava took a deep breath, sensing the chance to speak her truth. “We just want to feel like we can make our own choices, Mom. Just this once?”

Billie considered their words, her maternal instincts battling with the desire to keep them safe. After a moment of silence, she sighed and smiled. “Okay, how about this: if you promise to be back by midnight, I’ll let you go—but you have to text me every hour. Deal?”

Ava’s face lit up with excitement, and Mia nodded vigorously. “Deal! Thank you, Mom!”

Billie chuckled, feeling a mix of pride and nostalgia for their shared moments. “Now go on. Have fun, but remember to be responsible. And if anything goes wrong, call me. I’m always just a text away.”

As the twins slipped out the door, elated and relieved, Billie couldn’t help but shake her head, chuckling softly to herself. She couldn’t help but feel a mixture of pride and nostalgia. Raising teenagers was a challenge, but with the right balance of trust and guidance, she knew they’d be just fine.

[jackethockey]

Taste

Warnings: smut, sex scene, explicit language

Word count: 8917

Summary: In summary, this fic tells the tale of two childhood friends, you and Jack Hughes, whose lives diverge post-high school when you pursue sports management at Rutgers University while Jack stays in Michigan. Despite your promise to stay in touch, the distance and the arrival of Jack's girlfriend, Lily, cause your communication to fade. Years later, after graduating and beginning your career, you serendipitously reconnect when you become an intern for the New Jersey Devils, where Jack is a new recruit. The bond you once had is rekindled, growing stronger than ever as you navigate the challenges of his NHL career and your own aspirations. As you both grow closer with each other again, the unthinkable happens between you for the better.

this fic takes a bit to get into the good stuff but its all part of lore i swear

“He pins you down on the carpet, makes paintings with his tongue.”

One sun-kissed afternoon in the final weeks of high school, you and Jack sat cross-legged on the lush grass of your backyard, surrounded by the comforting hum of the nearby lake and the whispers of the swaying trees. You had known Jack since kindergarten, his mischievous grin and boundless energy an ever-present force in your life. His brothers, Quinn and Luke, were like additional siblings, their bond with you strong but distinctly different from the one you shared with Jack. As you both gazed into the horizon, the future loomed large, a canvas of unexplored possibilities. You spoke of your dream to study sports management at Rutgers University in New Jersey, your voice filled with excitement and a touch of apprehension. Jack, ever the free spirit, shrugged off the notion of college, his eyes gleaming with plans of adventure and self-discovery. You knew the distance would test your friendship, but you also knew that pursuing your passion was essential. With a bittersweet smile, you promised to stay in touch, no matter how far apart life would take you.

As the day of your departure approached, the air grew thick with the weight of unspoken words and the sweet nostalgia of shared memories. You gathered Jack, Quinn, and Luke in your living room, the space that had hosted countless laughs and heart-to-hearts over the years. Your eyes searched theirs, trying to capture every detail, to hold onto the essence of your friendship in the amber of your mind. You hugged Quinn and Luke tightly, feeling the warmth of their embraces and the reassurance that they would always be there, even if physically apart. Then, you turned to Jack, the one who knew you best, who had seen you at your highest highs and lowest lows. His eyes mirrored your own, a silent understanding passing between you. With a tremble in your voice, you promised to call, to email, to visit, to never let the miles come between you. He nodded solemnly, a gentle squeeze of your hand speaking louder than any words could. As you pulled away, the gravity of goodbye settled heavily on your heart.

The early days at Rutgers were filled with the comforting rhythm of your daily calls with Jack. His voice remained a constant through the cacophony of new experiences, a thread of home weaving through the fabric of your new life. You shared tales of your rigorous classes, the excitement of living in a dorm, and the thrill of exploring the East Coast. In return, he regaled you with stories of his new job at the local sports store, the weekend adventures with Quinn and Luke, and the occasional mischief that still found its way to him. The conversations grew longer, the laughter louder, and the connection between you remained unshaken.

Then, one fateful spring, Jack's voice grew distant. His calls grew less frequent, his texts more sporadic. You chalked it up to his busy work schedule and the natural ebb and flow of life, but as the months rolled by, the silence grew deafening. You had heard whispers of a girl, a new spark in his life, but you didn't let it bother you, not at first. You understood the need for space and the excitement of a burgeoning relationship. However, the gaps grew wider, the conversations shorter, and the ease you once shared became strained.

Her name was Lily, a girl with a laugh that could light up a room, according to Jack. He spoke of her in hushed tones, a secret joy that you felt you had no part in. Initially, you were happy for him, eager to meet the person who had captured his heart. But as the days turned into weeks, and the weeks into months, the realization sank in. The calls grew less about you and more about her, and soon, it seemed like Jack had forgotten the promise you had made to each other under the shade of the old oak tree back in Michigan. His stories shifted from tales of the three musketeers to tales of two, and you felt like a forgotten piece of the puzzle that no longer fit.

One day, without warning, the calls stopped altogether. Your messages went unanswered, your voice mails unreturned. The silence grew heavier than the books piled on your desk. You tried not to let it consume you, but the ache of his absence grew with each unanswered ring. The friendship that had been your compass now felt like a fading star, lost in the vast sky of change.

As you graduated from college, the memory of Jack's laughter and the warmth of his friendship had dimmed like an old photograph left in the sun. The promise of staying in touch had become a distant echo of a past that seemed so much simpler. You had moved on, grown stronger, found new friends, and chased your dreams, but the thought of Jack, of what could have been, remained a silent companion in the quiet corners of your heart.

And so, you stepped into the world beyond Rutgers, armed with your degree and the lessons of friendship, distance, and change. The story of you and Jack remained unfinished, a chapter that you hoped might one day be revisited, but for now, you had to accept that life had taken you on different paths, paths that no longer intersected as they once had. The future you had so eagerly discussed in your high school days had unfolded in ways you couldn't have imagined, leaving you with a bittersweet taste of nostalgia and a hope that the tapestry of fate had not yet been fully woven.

Following graduation, you threw yourself into job hunting with a fervor that mirrored your determination to keep Jack's memory at bay. After weeks of applications and interviews, a golden opportunity arose. The New Jersey Devils were looking for a new Sports Management intern. Although you did not know much about hockey, you still wanted to give it a chance which you would not regret.

The day of the interview was a whirlwind of nerves and excitement. You arrived at the Prudential Center dressed to impress, ready to tackle any challenge thrown your way. The interview went smoother than you could have hoped, your passion for sports resonating with the team's management. Before you knew it, you were being offered the position, and you eagerly accepted, eager to start your career in the bustling world of professional hockey.

On your first day, you were given a tour of the grand arena. The smell of fresh ice filled the air as you walked down the gleaming corridors, each step bringing you closer to the heart of the sport you started to love. As you approached the rink, the faint sound of skates slicing through the stillness grew louder, a rhythmic symphony that sent a thrill down your spine. The tour guide led you to the benches, explaining the layout of the area and the routines of the players during games. Your eyes widened as you looked out onto the ice, where a figure skated with a grace and familiarity that seemed almost surreal.

It was Jack. His eyes, once filled with the mirth of youth, now bore the focused intensity of a professional athlete. He was one of the new recruits for the Devils, his dreams of adventure and success intertwining with the sport you now cherished. As your gaze met his across the ice, the years of silence melted away, replaced with a mix of shock and elation. You watched as he skated towards you, his eyes lighting up with the same warmth you remembered from your childhood. The universe had played a cruel trick, but as Jack's hand reached out to give you a firm shake, you realized that perhaps it had also delivered a chance at redemption for the friendship that had once meant everything to you both.

The moment Jack's hand enveloped yours in a firm shake, the years of separation melted away like spring ice. His eyes searched yours for any trace of the hurt or anger that the silence had left behind. "I can't believe it's you," he exclaimed, the awe in his voice a balm to your bruised heart. "What are you doing here?" he asked, a hint of hope and confusion weaving through his words. You stumbled over your own, trying to explain your journey to Rutgers, your love for sports management, and the serendipity that had led you to the Devils. The tour guide looked on with a mix of curiosity and amusement, clearly not expecting this emotional reunion. As the reality of your shared destination sank in, Jack's smile grew wider, crinkling the corners of his eyes in a way that was as familiar as the warmth of a childhood summer. "Fate has a strange sense of humor, huh?" he said, his voice laced with wonder. With the sound of skates echoing around you, you both knew that the universe had thrown you a lifeline, a chance to bridge the gap that had grown between you. This unexpected reunion was more than just a coincidence; it was a testament to the unbreakable bond that had endured through the seasons of life. As you stood there, the rink a silent witness to your rekindled friendship, you couldn't help but feel that perhaps, just perhaps, the pages of your story had not been torn apart but merely folded over, waiting for the right moment to unfold once again.

The rest of that day at the Prudential Center passed in a blur of handshakes and introductions, Jack acting as your guide through the unfamiliar world of professional hockey. The players, coaches, and staff greeted you with curiosity and welcomed you into the fold, the buzz of the reunion reverberating through the hallowed halls. You watched in amazement as Jack moved with the confidence of a seasoned player, the grace of his movements on the ice a stark contrast to the nervousness you felt in your own skin. After the initial shock had worn off, you found your voice and shared your experiences at Rutgers, the internships you'd completed, and your hopes for the future. Jack listened intently, his eyes never leaving yours, as if trying to absorb every word, every memory you had missed sharing. You talked about his own journey, the sacrifices he'd made, the endless hours of practice, the scouts that had come and gone, until finally, the Devils had seen something in him that no one else had. His voice was filled with the same passion you had heard in your daily calls, but now it was for a sport, not just for adventure. The conversation flowed as easily as it had back in Michigan, the bond between you as strong as ever, despite the years that had tried to erode it.

As the arena emptied, Jack led you to the locker room, the sacred space where he now called home. The scent of sweat and victory hung heavy in the air, a testament to the battles waged on the ice. He pulled out his phone, thumb hovering over the screen, hesitating. "Do you... do you want to grab dinner?" he asked, the question tentative but hopeful. You nodded, unable to hide the smile that spread across your face. As you stepped out into the New Jersey night, the neon lights of the city reflecting off the puddles from a recent rain, it was as if you had been transported back to your teenage years. The distance between you had shrunk to nothing more than a heartbeat. You walked to a nearby diner, the same one you had dreamt about in the quiet dorm room nights when homesickness had hit the hardest. The comfort food and the familiar banter washed away the years, leaving only the warmth of friendship and the promise of a new chapter.

Over milkshakes and burgers, you delved deeper into each other's lives, sharing the stories that had shaped you both since that fateful goodbye. You spoke of the late-night study sessions, the friends that had come and gone, and the moments when you had doubted your path. Jack, in turn, regaled you with tales of the rinks he had played in, the coaches who had pushed him to his limits, and the quiet moments of triumph when he had scored the winning goal. Lily, the girl who had once felt like a wedge between you, was now a cherished memory, a stepping stone that had led him to the NHL. As you sat there, the chatter of the diner fading into the background, you realized that your friendship had not disappeared; it had merely evolved. It had grown stronger in the face of distance and change, ready to stand tall once more.

The hours melted away, and before you knew it, the diner's lights began to dim, signaling closing time. You exchanged numbers, promising to stay in touch this time without the need for daily reminders. As you stood outside the diner, the cool evening air a stark reminder of the real world waiting for you, Jack pulled you into a warm embrace, the kind that only a best friend can give. "Thank you for coming here," he murmured against your hair. "Thank you for not giving up on me."

You stepped back, smiling up at him, your eyes shining with unshed tears. "Thank you for being exactly where I needed you to be," you replied, the weight of his absence in your life lifting like a fog dispersing in the morning sun. With a final squeeze of his hand, you turned to walk away, the promise of a new dawn in your heart. The future stretched out before you, a thrilling unknown filled with the potential of reviving a friendship that had stood the test of time and distance. As you disappeared into the night, the echo of your laughter dancing in the air, you knew that no matter where life took you, the bond between you and Jack Hughes would never truly fade away.

The days that followed were a whirlwind of adjustments and rekindled camaraderie. Your internship with the Devils became a tapestry of long work hours and stolen moments with Jack. You found yourself drawn to the rhythm of the team, the roar of the crowd, and the thrill of each victory. Your friendship grew stronger with each shared meal and stolen glance, the threads of your past intertwining with the bright fibers of your newfound future. Jack introduced you to the players, who welcomed you into their tight-knit circle with the ease of old friends. You watched him practice, his dedication to the sport leaving you in awe, and in return, he sat through countless hours of your work, asking questions about contracts and marketing strategies with genuine interest. The dynamics of your relationship shifted, morphing from high school confidants to professional peers, each supporting the other's dreams. You saw him grow not just as a player but as a person, his maturity and perseverance inspiring you in ways you could never have imagined. And as the first game of the season approached, the excitement in the air was palpable, the anticipation of a new adventure you would navigate together, side by side.

The first game of the season was a whirlwind of emotions for you. From the electric energy in the locker room to the deafening roar of the crowd as Jack took the ice, you felt as though you were living a dream. You sat in the stands, your heart racing as the players skated out for the national anthem. The spotlight found Jack, and the camera zoomed in on his face, a mix of focus and exhilaration. You couldn't help but beam with pride, knowing that the boy who once shot pucks at your garage door was now living his dream before thousands of people. Throughout the game, you watched him glide across the rink with an ease that belied the complexity of the sport. Every pass, every shot, every strategic move was a testament to his talent and hard work. As the Devils scored their first goal, Jack's name echoed through the arena, and you felt your heart swell. This was more than just a job; it was a chance to be part of something greater, a chance to share in Jack's success.

During the intermissions, you found yourself pacing the corridors, a strange mix of nerves and excitement coursing through you. The air was thick with anticipation, and you could feel the pulse of the game resonating in every corner of the building. You watched as Jack's teammates slapped him on the back, sharing words of encouragement and strategy. The camaraderie was infectious, and you found yourself longing to be a part of it. You had always loved sports, but being behind the scenes of professional hockey was an experience you never could have imagined. The smell of the locker room, the sound of skates cutting through the ice, and the thunderous applause of the fans were now part of your new reality.

As the final buzzer sounded and the Devils secured their victory, you could feel the vibrations of the cheers in your chest. You rushed down to the locker room, eager to congratulate Jack. The moment you saw him, sweaty and exhausted, the grin on his face was worth every mile that had once separated you. He pulled you into a fierce hug, his eyes gleaming with happiness. "We did it," he said, and in that moment, you knew that the years of silence had not been wasted. Your friendship had weathered the storm of time and change, emerging stronger, ready to face whatever the future held.

The celebration was a blur of handshakes and congratulations, the air thick with the scent of victory and the promise of new beginnings. As the players filtered out, Jack grabbed your hand and led you back onto the ice. The lights had dimmed, and the rink was quiet, a stark contrast to the frenetic energy of the game. You looked around in wonder, feeling the cold bite of the ice beneath your feet as Jack skated around you, spinning in circles with the grace of a figure skater. "This is what it's all about," he said, his breath coming out in little puffs of mist. "The love of the game, the rush of the crowd, and knowing that no matter what happens out there, you've got someone cheering for you."

You nodded, feeling the weight of his words. In that moment, you realized that your paths had not diverged as much as you had feared. You were both chasing your dreams, just in different arenas. The bond between you had not been lost; it had merely transformed into something new, something that could withstand the tests of time and the challenges of adulthood. As you watched Jack pirouette on the ice, you knew that no matter where life took you, you would always be part of each other's stories, forever connected by the unbreakable thread of friendship that had been woven into the fabric of your lives.

With the echo of the final buzzer still ringing in your ears, you and Jack found yourselves back in the quiet of the now-deserted rink. The ice glistened under the soft glow of the arena lights, a serene stage where moments of triumph and defeat had unfolded just hours before. The air was cool and crisp, a stark contrast to the sticky warmth of the summer afternoons you'd spent together in Michigan. As you laced up your own skates, the leather a familiar comfort from your college days, you felt a surge of excitement. You had never been on the ice during a professional game, let alone had the chance to skate with a player of Jack's caliber. He offered his hand, and with a gentle pull, you found your balance on the unforgiving surface. The cold bit at your cheeks as you pushed off, the sound of your blades slicing through the ice a sweet symphony that resonated deep within. For a moment, you felt like you were back in time, two friends chasing each other around a local rink, laughter echoing off the walls. 

But the reality was far grander than any childhood memory could ever be. Jack's movements were fluid, a dance of power and precision that spoke of the countless hours he had dedicated to this sport. As you clumsily attempted to keep up, you couldn't help but feel a sense of wonder at the journey that had led you both here. The friendship that had once been the cornerstone of your youth now stood tall and unshaken amidst the glitz and grind of professional hockey. Each stroke, each turn, brought back memories of shared dreams and whispered promises. And as you skated alongside him, you knew that no matter how different your paths had become, the heart of your friendship remained unchanged. This was more than a reunion; it was the start of a new chapter, one where you could both cheer each other on, no matter which side of the rink you stood.

Jack's eyes flickered to the clock on the wall, signaling that it was time to wrap up the night. "Why don't you come back to my place?" he suggested casually, his voice a low rumble that sent a shiver down your spine. The warmth of his hand still lingered from your earlier handshake, and as he led you off the ice, you found yourself nodding in agreement, curiosity and an undeniable attraction tugging at you. The ride to his apartment was filled with comfortable banter, the kind that comes from years of shared history. As you stepped into his space, the scent of his cologne mixed with the faint aroma of victory from the game still clinging to him, you couldn't help but notice how the atmosphere had shifted. The air grew thick with unspoken desire as you both removed your coats, your bodies now just a whisper apart. You turned to face him, and the intensity in his gaze was unmistakable. His eyes raked over you, the hunger in them making your pulse race. You felt your own attraction mirroring his, a magnetic pull that had been building unnoticed beneath the surface of your friendship.

You sat down on the couch, the leather cool against your skin, and Jack followed suit, his leg brushing yours. The TV flickered in the background, but the only thing you could focus on was the heat between you. You began to speak, but the words got caught in your throat as he leaned closer, his breath warm against your cheek. The silence stretched, your eyes locked onto his, and the world around you seemed to fade away. You could feel the tension coil tighter with each passing second until it was almost unbearable. The sudden realization that this moment was more than just a friendship hangout hit you like a slap of cold water. You licked your lips, and Jack's gaze dropped to your mouth, his own parting slightly. It was as if you were both poised on the edge of a cliff, the anticipation of what could happen next making your heart race. Without a word, you reached up, your hand cupping his cheek, and he leaned into your touch, his eyes never leaving yours. The space between you closed, and when your lips finally met, it was with a fierce intensity that stole your breath away. The years of friendship had transformed into something new, something thrillingly intimate and overwhelming.

The kiss deepened, and you felt the heat of his hands as they wrapped around your waist, pulling you closer. The fabric of your clothes seemed too restrictive, the layers too many. You tangled your fingers in his hair, the softness of it sending a jolt of electricity through your fingertips. You had no idea how long you stayed like that, lost in the kiss, but when you finally broke away, panting and flushed, you knew that there was no turning back. The line had been crossed, and you were both ready to explore the uncharted territory of your relationship. The rest of the night was a blur of passion and whispers, of discovering each other's bodies and souls in a way you never had before. And as you lay in his arms, the echoes of your love-making still resonating in the quiet apartment, you knew that this was just the beginning of a love story that had been written in the stars all along.

Jack's hands slid from your waist to your thighs, his grip firm as he effortlessly lifted you, making you straddle him. The sudden shift in position brought his hard, throbbing cock pressed against your pussy, the fabric of your clothes the only barrier to the intimate connection your bodies craved. You gasped into the kiss, the pressure of his arousal sending waves of heat through your core, making your pussy ache for more. You could feel your own wetness seeping through your panties, your body's response to the raw passion in his touch. His hands roamed up to cup your breasts, his thumbs teasing your nipples through your shirt, and you moaned, grinding down onto him. The friction was exquisite, the promise of what was to come a tantalizing whisper in the air. As you rocked your hips against him, you felt the urgency build, a desperate need to be closer, to feel every inch of him inside you. The world outside of Jack's embrace ceased to exist, and all you could focus on was the delicious pressure of his cock and the wetness that was pooling between your legs. The anticipation was unbearable, a sweet agony that made you whimper with need. You broke the kiss, panting, your eyes locked onto his, and you knew that this was the moment you had both been waiting for, the moment when the unspoken desires of your hearts would finally be laid bare.

Jack gently broke the kiss, his eyes never leaving yours as he wrapped his arms around your waist. With a smooth motion, he lifted you off the couch, setting you down on the plush carpet. You could feel the heat of his desire in the way he handled you, the gentle yet firm touch that sent shivers down your spine. He knelt before you, his hands moving to the button of your jeans. He undid them slowly, the sound of the zipper echoing in the quiet room. With trembling hands, he slid the denim down your legs, leaving you in just your shirt and panties. You stepped out of the puddle of fabric, feeling exposed but incredibly aroused under his hungry gaze. He paused for a moment, taking in the sight of you before his eyes dropped to your underwear, the fabric now damp from your arousal. With a wolfish grin, he hooked his fingers in the waistband and yanked them down, revealing your wet pussy to the cool air. The sight of your wetness made his cock twitch with excitement, and he couldn't resist leaning in to inhale the intoxicating scent of your desire.

As he took in the sight of you, sprawled before him, Jack's eyes shone with a mix of love and unbridled lust. He gently parted your legs, his gaze never leaving your face as he took in the pink, swollen flesh that was begging for his touch. He traced a finger along your slit, watching as your body shuddered in response. He teased your entrance, the pad of his thumb brushing over your clit, making you gasp. The anticipation was exquisite, your body begging for more. And then, without warning, he stopped, his eyes locked onto the sensitive bundle of nerves at the apex of your thighs. With a wicked smile, he brought his face closer, his hot breath sending shivers across your skin. He flicked his tongue out, making paintings with his tongue and tasting the sweetness of your arousal, and you moaned, the sensation of his tongue on your clit sending waves of pleasure crashing through your body. He took his time, savoring every moment, licking and sucking with a passion that was both tender and fierce. His hands gripped your thighs, holding you in place as you writhed under his ministrations, your body a symphony of sensation as he brought you closer and closer to the edge of ecstasy.

With each stroke of Jack's tongue, you felt yourself spiraling closer to the precipice of orgasm. Your hips began to buck, your moans growing louder as he sucked and flicked with masterful precision. You threaded your fingers through his hair, gripping tightly, your body trembling with the effort to hold back the impending release. But Jack was relentless, his mouth working in tandem with his hands, which had moved to your ass, gripping and lifting you closer to him, angling you just right to hit that perfect spot. The pressure built, a delicious ache that grew more intense with each passing moment until it was all you could think about, all you could feel. And then, with a final, forceful flick of his tongue, you shattered, your climax crashing over you like a wave, leaving you trembling and gasping for air. You collapsed against him, his arms wrapping around you to hold you up as the aftershocks of pleasure rippled through your body. His lips moved to your inner thighs, placing gentle kisses along your skin as you came down from your high, your heart racing and your breathing uneven. 

"Jack," you murmured, your voice hoarse with passion, "That was..." Words failed you as he looked up, a smug smile on his face, his eyes gleaming with satisfaction. He stood, his own need palpable in the tension of his body, his erection pressing against the fabric of his shorts. "My turn," he said, his voice low and filled with desire. You nodded, unable to resist the urge to reach out and touch him, to reciprocate the pleasure he had just given you. The night was still young, and the fire between you had only just been stoked. This was the beginning of a passionate exploration, a dance of love and lust that would rewrite the very essence of your friendship, binding you in a way you never thought possible.

Jack's strong hands reached for the hem of his shirt, pulling it over his head, revealing the sculpted abs and defined muscles of his athlete's physique. You couldn't help but admire the way the light danced across his chest, highlighting every ridge and dip. He stepped closer, his eyes never leaving yours as he unbuttoned his shorts. The fabric slid down his hips, and his cock sprang free, thick and hard, a testament to his desire for you. You reached out to touch him, the heat of his skin burning against your fingertips. He groaned as you wrapped your hand around his length, stroking him gently, exploring the velvety head with the pad of your thumb. His breath hitched, and his eyes fluttered shut, his body visibly responding to your touch. You felt a thrill of power, knowing that you could affect him so profoundly. He took your hand away and guided you to the bedroom, his own need for more pressing against your hand as he led you. The room was dimly lit, the shadows playing across the walls, creating an intimate sanctuary for the two of you. He laid you down on the bed, his body following, his weight pressing you into the mattress. 

His kisses grew more urgent, his tongue delving into your mouth as if he were trying to devour you whole. His hands roamed over your body, setting your skin alight with every caress. You felt the head of his cock nudge against your entrance, and you spread your legs wider, inviting him in. With a groan, he pushed into you, filling you completely. The feeling was unlike anything you had ever experienced, the years of longing and friendship coalescing into a moment of pure, raw passion. Each thrust was a declaration of love and desire, a promise that you were his, and he was yours. The friction between your bodies grew more intense as he picked up the pace, his hips moving in a rhythm that had you clinging to him, your nails digging into his back as you matched his movements with your own. Your breath mingled with his, your moans a sweet symphony of pleasure that seemed to echo through the room. 

The connection between you was palpable, a force that seemed to transcend the physical, weaving your souls together as tightly as your bodies were entwined. As the tension grew, Jack leaned down to whisper sweet nothings in your ear, his breath hot against your neck, sending shivers down your spine. You wrapped your legs around him, pulling him closer, feeling his cock hit that perfect spot deep within you that had you seeing stars. The world outside the bedroom ceased to exist as you climbed higher, your bodies moving in perfect harmony. And when you finally fell over the edge, your orgasm crashing into you like a tidal wave, Jack followed, his warmth spilling into you, the intensity of his release mirroring the depth of your own. You lay there, panting and sated, your hearts beating as one, forever changed by the love you had just shared.

You clung to Jack, your bodies slick with sweat and entangled in the aftermath of your passionate union. His breath was hot against your ear, whispering sweet nothings that sent shivers down your spine. You felt the rapid thud of his heart, the pulse of his life force resonating with your own. Your legs remained locked around his waist, unwilling to let go of the connection that had just been forged between you. As the intensity of the moment began to wane, Jack slowly pulled out of you, the sensation making you gasp. He rolled over onto his side, taking you with him, and cradled you in his arms, your heads resting on the same pillow, your breaths mingling in the stillness. He kissed the top of your forehead, the gesture tender and filled with a love that went beyond the physical. The warmth of his embrace was a balm to your soul, and you knew that nothing could ever break the bond that had been formed that night. The future was uncertain, but one thing was clear: the path you were on now was one of love, passion, and a friendship that had transformed into something much more profound. As you drifted off to sleep, your bodies tangled together like the roots of the old oak tree back in Michigan, you realized that sometimes, the universe had a way of bringing people together in the most unexpected of ways, and for that, you were eternally grateful.

The following days were a whirlwind of stolen moments and passionate nights, as you both balanced the demands of your new roles within the Devils' organization and the burgeoning relationship that had caught fire between you. You found yourself sneaking glances at Jack during team meetings, your thoughts straying to the way his muscles had felt under your fingertips, the taste of his skin on your lips. Every time you were together, the chemistry was palpable, your bodies seemingly drawn together by an invisible force that neither of you could resist. The nights grew longer, filled with whispered confessions and gentle explorations that deepened the connection you shared. As you lay in each other's arms, the quiet murmur of the city outside Jack's apartment windows serving as a soothing lullaby, you talked about the future, about how this newfound love could fit into the lives you had so carefully constructed apart. The excitement of the unknown was thrilling, but it was also tinged with a hint of fear—what if the flame that burned so brightly now was just a fleeting spark that would eventually die out? 

Yet, as you listened to the steady beat of his heart and felt the warmth of his body, you pushed those thoughts aside. For now, all that mattered was the here and now, the feeling of Jack's love surrounding you like a warm blanket, keeping the chill of doubt and fear at bay. Each day was a new adventure, a chance to learn more about the person who had been your confidant, your rock, and now, your lover. The love story of you and Jack Hughes was no longer just a distant memory, but a living, breathing entity that grew stronger with every shared kiss and whispered "I love you." And as the days turned into weeks, and the weeks into months, you began to believe that perhaps, just perhaps, the universe had always had a grander plan for the two of you—a plan that had led you both to the very heart of the sport you adored, to find not just success, but the kind of love that could conquer any distance.

Jack took you by surprise when he suggested a date under the stars, a nostalgic nod to the countless nights you had spent together as children, lying on the hood of his old car and making wishes on shooting stars. The air was crisp with the promise of fall, the leaves whispering secrets as they danced in the gentle breeze. He led you to a quiet spot by the lake, a place that had been your sanctuary in the days before the world had grown so large. He spread out a blanket, and you lay down side by side, the soft fabric a cocoon of warmth against the cool grass. The stars winked at you from the velvet sky, a silent audience to the love that had blossomed between you.

As you lay there, Jack reached over, his hand finding yours, lacing your fingers together in a gesture that felt both familiar and brand new. His thumb traced gentle circles on your palm, sending waves of warmth up your arm and into your chest. He turned to you, his eyes filled with the light of a thousand stars. "You know," he began, his voice a soft rumble, "I've loved you since we were kids. And now that we're here, together, I want to make it official." His heart was racing, you could feel it through his touch. "Will you be my girlfriend?" The words hung in the air, suspended like the stars above, filled with hope and naked vulnerability.

You searched his eyes, finding the love and friendship that had been the foundation of your lives. The moment felt like a perfect circle, a culmination of all the moments that had led you to this very spot. You felt your own heart swell with emotion, your voice a whisper. "Yes," you breathed, your eyes shining with unshed tears. "Yes, Jack Hughes, I'll be your girlfriend."

The weight of the word 'girlfriend' settled over you both, a warm embrace that seemed to seal the bond you had rekindled. He leaned in, capturing your lips in a kiss that was sweet and full of promise. As you pulled away, smiling through your tears, you cuddled closer to him, feeling his strong arms wrap around you. Together, you stared up at the sky, the stars a testament to the endless possibilities that lay before you. The future was uncertain, but as long as you had each other, you knew it would be bright.

Jack's arms tightened around you, his embrace a silent declaration of his own love and commitment. The stars above seemed to shine brighter in celebration, their light dancing on the lake's surface and casting a soft glow on your entwined bodies. As the night grew colder, you both moved closer, sharing warmth and whispers of future plans. The feeling of his heart against yours was a constant reminder of the unspoken promises you had made—to support each other, to cherish every moment, and to never let the distance come between you again. The sound of the lake's gentle waves served as a soothing backdrop to your newfound love, a rhythmic reminder of the life that flowed around you, just as your love for each other had grown and evolved over the years. With every shared breath and tender touch, you felt the weight of the past lift away, making room for a future filled with excitement and love. And as you lay there, wrapped in the warmth of his love and the promise of forever, you knew that the journey ahead, no matter how challenging it might be, would be worth every step if it led you back to Jack's arms, to the place where you truly belonged.

The following weekend, Jack had a game, and you watched from the stands, feeling a sense of pride and love swell within you as he glided across the ice. The crowd roared as he scored the winning goal, and as he skated over to the bench, he searched the sea of faces until his eyes found yours. With a grin that could light up the entire arena, he blew you a kiss, his eyes alight with the fire of victory. After the game, you met him in the locker room, the air thick with the scent of sweat and camaraderie. He pulled you into a crushing hug, his damp hair sticking to your forehead as he whispered, "I did it for you," his breath warm against your ear. The other players cheered and clapped, some teasing him good-naturedly about his newfound fan club. As you walked back to his apartment, hand in hand, the excitement of the game still pulsing through your veins, you knew that the path you were on was the one you were meant to follow. That night, you made love in the glow of the setting sun, the warmth of his body and the passion in his kisses echoing the victory of the day. It was a celebration of your love, a declaration that no matter where life took you, you would always find your way back to each other. And as you drifted off to sleep, lulled by the steady beat of his heart, you knew that together, you could conquer any challenge the universe threw your way.

As the days grew shorter and the chill of winter seeped into New Jersey, Jack and you grew closer, finding warmth in each other's embrace amidst the frosty air. The holidays approached, bringing with them a flurry of team events and the anticipation of time apart as the hockey season went into full swing. You cherished the moments you had together, making every second count. One night, as the first snowflakes of the season began to dance outside the windows, Jack took you ice skating under the glow of the arena's lights. The smoothness of the ice mirrored the ease with which you had fallen into your relationship, and as he held your hand, guiding you through the twirls and turns, you felt your heart flutter in your chest. He was more than just your lover, more than the best friend you had ever known—he was the person who had captured your soul and made it sing. As you leaned against the boards to catch your breath, laughing at your wobbly attempts at a figure eight, Jack turned to you, the snowflakes dusting his eyelashes. He looked into your eyes, his own filled with a love so intense it was almost painful to behold. "I don't know what I did to deserve you," he murmured, his voice hoarse with emotion. "But I know I'll do everything in my power to keep you by my side."

The words hung in the cold air, a vow that seemed to warm the very ice beneath your skates. You knew that the road ahead would be fraught with challenges—his games, your career, the inevitable separations—but as you looked into his eyes, you also knew that together, you could weather any storm. With a smile that could melt the coldest of hearts, you leaned in and kissed him, the world around you fading into the background as the magic of the moment wrapped you in a warm embrace. It was a kiss filled with promise, with hope, with the unspoken understanding that no matter where the winds of fate might blow, you would always find your way back to each other. And as you skated hand in hand into the night, the stars winking at you from above, you felt the universe itself nod in approval, whispering that sometimes, love was just meant to be.

The months turned into years, and your relationship with Jack grew stronger, a testament to the unyielding bond that had formed between you. Through the highs of victories and the lows of defeats, you were each other's constant, a beacon of support and love that never wavered. As the summer sun kissed the horizon, signaling the end of another season, Jack suggested a trip back to Michigan to visit your old stomping grounds. The idea filled you with excitement, not only to see the place that had shaped you both but also to reconnect with Quinn and Luke.

The journey home was a blend of nostalgia and newfound appreciation. The familiar landmarks grew closer with each passing mile, the anticipation of seeing your childhood friends a thrumming beat in your heart. As you pulled up to the house that held so many memories, the sight of Quinn and Luke waiting on the porch sent waves of joy crashing over you. The moment you stepped out of the car, a chorus of laughter and cheers filled the air as you were enveloped in their warm embraces. The years had brought their own changes—Quinn had settled down with a lovely wife and a baby on the way, while Luke was thriving in his own adventures—but the essence of their friendship remained untouched by time.

You spent the weekend reminiscing about old times, sharing stories of your new lives, and reconnecting over the simple pleasure of each other's company. As the days grew long and the nights grew warm, you found yourself nestled between Jack and the Hughes brothers, the fireflies flickering in the darkness like stars that had descended to earth. The conversations flowed freely, the laughter echoing through the quiet neighborhood streets, and it was as if the years had never come between you. You watched Jack with a soft smile, his eyes alight with the joy of being home, with being surrounded by those who had known him before the NHL, before the glitz and the glamour. It was a gentle reminder of the boy he had been, the friend who had held your hand through the storms of adolescence.

The visit was a balm to your soul, a chance to recharge and remember the roots of your friendship. As the weekend drew to a close, you felt a pang of sadness, but also a renewed sense of purpose. Life had led you back to each other, and as you held Jack's hand and said your goodbyes, you knew that no matter how much the seasons of life changed, the core of your bond would remain unshaken. With a promise to visit more often, you climbed into the car, ready to face the future together, hand in hand. The road ahead was long, but with the warmth of Jack's love and the comfort of your shared past, you had no doubt that you would conquer every challenge with grace and emerge even stronger, ready to face whatever the universe had in store.

Jack had planned the perfect adventure for the both of you and the Hughes family. He had picked a serene spot, a hidden gem nestled in the heart of the Michigan wilderness. As you all piled into the car, the anticipation grew with every mile that passed. The destination was a secret, known only to him, and the excitement of the unknown thrummed through the air. When you finally arrived, you found yourselves in a clearing surrounded by towering pines and a tranquil lake that shimmered under the warm embrace of the setting sun. The serenity of the place was almost tangible, the only sound the soft rustle of leaves whispering secrets to the wind.

As the family set up camp, Jack took you aside, his hand firm and warm in yours. He led you to a secluded spot at the water's edge, a small dock that jutted out into the lake. The wooden planks creaked gently underfoot as you made your way to the end, the water lapping gently against the posts. He turned to face you, his eyes shining with a love that seemed to have grown with every shared moment. "This place," he began, his voice low and earnest, "has always been special to me. It's where I came to think, to dream, and to escape." He took a deep breath, his chest rising and falling with the weight of what he was about to say. "And it's here, where I want to tell you that I've been in love with you since the day you moved in next door."

The words hung in the air, a confession that seemed to resonate with every fiber of your being. You searched his eyes, the depth of his feelings reflected in the pools of emotion that had gathered there. He dropped to one knee, pulling out a small velvet box, and your heart skipped a beat. "I know we've been through a lot," he continued, his voice trembling slightly, "but I can't imagine a future without you. You're the one I want to share every victory with, every heartache, every moment of joy." He opened the box to reveal a ring that sparkled like the stars you had wished upon so many times together. "Will you marry me?"

The world seemed to stop as you stared down at the ring, the sunset casting a warm glow on everything around you. You felt the tears well up in your eyes, the weight of his love too much to bear. "Jack," you managed to whisper, your voice thick with emotion, "I love you more than words can say." You nodded, unable to form coherent words. "Yes," you breathed, "yes, I'll marry you."

He slid the ring onto your finger, the cool metal feeling like it was sealing a promise that had been in the making for a lifetime. He stood up and took you in his arms, the kiss that followed a declaration of forever. As you wrapped your arms around him, the world around you faded away, leaving only the two of you, the lake, and the promise of a future filled with love and happiness.

The proposal had been a perfect culmination of your journey, a testament to the love that had grown between you despite the distance and the years apart. The rest of the night was a blur of excitement and joy as you shared the news with Quinn and Luke, their faces lighting up with happiness for the two of you. The fire crackled in the campfire, casting a warm glow on the faces of your loved ones as you reveled in the warmth of their congratulations. The stars above twinkled down on you, as if in approval of Jack's heartfelt declaration.

In the quiet moments, you found yourself lost in thought, the reality of your engagement sinking in. You had come so far from the days of playing street hockey and sharing secrets under the old oak tree. Now, as you gazed into the flames, Jack's hand in yours, you knew that the adventure ahead would be the most exciting one yet—the adventure of building a life together, forever entwined by love and friendship. And as the night grew late, and the laughter of your friends and future in-laws grew softer, you curled up beside Jack, feeling the warmth of his love and the weight of the ring on your finger. You closed your eyes, your heart full to bursting, and whispered a silent thank you to the universe for bringing you back to the place you truly belonged—in Jack's arms, ready to face whatever the future had in store.

[moonbaetarot]

Pick a pile

What’s happening for you in June

1. 2. 3.

Pile 1

This month You’re going to be juggling and keeping something in balance this could be money but it doesn’t have to. You’re in your energy or element doing things that make you feel happy. You’re showing up as someone who has a leadership and friendly energy to you this month. You may be starting a business or project. Theres a feeling of you just being mellow and calm your life’s in balance. You’re going to be feeling really confident physically or mentally. You’re being told not to rush anything this month or be implosive think before you act. You’re on the road to success one day at a time your slowly getting there I feel like life’s been very stagnant and slow but now things are starting to pick up. I also see you going to an exciting event or party of some sort. I also pulled a few cards from my angel messages deck for you pile 1 I got “you are never alone believe” and “being with nature will give you the answers”.

Thank you for reading loves! 🤍

Pile 2

You going to feel very secure this month physically you may be improving your life in some way or buying something on the more expensive side. You’re going to be surrounded by a lot of people that love and support you. Talking about childhood memories lots of nostalgia. There may even be a reunion or get together with family of some sort to remember someone. There is something here about you feeling like someone is against you or sending you evil eye. There’s a very fiery, impulsive, ambitious energy this month you have a very child like energy not immature but more like innocent and pure. You have lots of new ideas and plans like a go go go type energy. You may be receiving a text or some type of news. I also pulled a few cards from my angel messages deck and for you pile 2 I got “your angels will only give you the challenges that you are capable of handling” and “you are a true being of the universe your beauty radiates from within”.

Thank you for reading loves! 🤍

Pile 3

You’re on the right path you have all the control. There is a lot of movement this month moving for the better. You’re going to be traveling somewhere with water or like a theme park doesn’t have to be. For some you may even be moving or planning to move prepping or packing something. I feel like you’re coming out of a dark or sad place or phase in your life you lost something or someone and had to let it go and this really hurt you but now you have to move on for the better. Your standing your ground you know what is best for you your not letting anything get to you what used to hurt you no longer stays rent free in your mind your protecting yourself and your peace. I also pulled a few cards from my Angel messages deck and for you pile 3 I got “when a feather floats down from above an angle is showering you with love” and “only think positive thoughts as your desires are manifesting”.

Thank you for reading loves! 🤍

[sinandguilt]

𝐎𝐅 𝐆𝐔𝐍𝐒, 𝐁𝐋𝐎𝐎𝐃, 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐌𝐈𝐒𝐄𝐑𝐘.

remmick x male reader

summary: you're a vampire hunter tasked with the challenge of killing a generational curse that's plagued your family for decades. only when you look death in the face do you realize how out of your league you really are.

tags: oneshot, dead dove, blood and violence, angst, dubcon, pwp (porn with plot), foreshadowing, manipulation, afro-latino!reader (tejano), hurt/comfort(?), references of grief, death, kissing of a shotgun (i have no explanation for this), needytop!remmick, frottage, oral sex, biting, turning, whatever the vampire-equivalent of a feeding kink would be, pain kink if you squint, semi-public sex, oral fixation, slight dumbification (both parties but reader is fighting it HARD), dacryphilia, spit/drool kink if you squint a bit, hive mind, anal sex, blood works as an aphrodisiac for vampires, chain dangling used as honorable mention, remmick goes dumb when he fucks it's kinda scary, author is a firm believer in pathetic!remmick

wc: 7.7k

a/n: i had a lot of fun when i started writing, but i honestly hate writing endings. i contemplated how to end it for a long time before i settled for this. i think it keeps it light enough. i kept seeing lots of remmick x vampirehunter!reader which is great and all, but i kinda felt like it was boring, so i put my own spin on it. i honestly like it a lot better, but i feel like i could've done more w it. idk, lmk if you guys like it, enjoy. (also this was a bitch to edit so if you see any mistakes or gaps, please ignore it. i will avoid reading this like the plague out of sheer embarrassment. likes, follows or comments/asks are encouraged.)

⸄࿆࿆⸅ྃ⸄࿆⸅⸄῁̟࿆⸅ྃ⸄῁࿆⸅⸄῁̟࿆⸅ྃ⸄῁࿆⸅⸄῁̟࿆⸅ྃ⸄῁࿆⸅⸄῁̟࿆ ⸅𓊆†𓊇⸄῁࿆⸅⸄῁̟࿆⸅ྃ⸄῁࿆⸅⸄῁̟࿆⸅⸄῁࿆⸅⸄῁̟࿆⸅ྃ⸄῁࿆⸅⸄῁̟࿆⸅ྃ⸄࿆⸅⸄࿆࿆⸅ྃ

The pads of your fingertips grazed over the last page of your calendar. September 28th. Today is the day– your day. Your chest tightened, nerves getting the better of you, like always. You were certain of how it'd go– that silver, crested shotgun in your hand, an emptied flask of holy water tucked in your belt, and the devil on his knees. Every decade, the devil would come wandering from shadows to take his pick of the litter to feed off of in Greenwood. And every decade, your family stood their ground– boots docked in dirt, gun in hand. Your grandmother would tell you stories of it as a child. About how there was a white devil pretty as sin that lurked in the shadows within the edge of the darkened woods, waiting. How he liked a challenge– liked it better when you fought back. Makes the blood sweeter, apparently. “Why can't we just call someone for help?” you'd ask her. “Those white men got good guns and trucks, I seen ‘em!” Naive, ignorant. Nostalgia tickled the back of your mind, the fond smell of her perfume flooded your nose. Like you were still there. Roses. She gently held your hands within her own, wrinkled with age. “Oh darlin',” she cooed, smile saddened as she spoke. “They know.”

Your mouth grew sour at the bitter memory. It sickened you. Ironically, those same men never failed to show up a month early when the time came to pay your dues, white-knuckling their trigger guards. Families watched anxiously from their cracked windows as they strode into town. They knew we didn't have enough each time, but they left each time with full pockets and bloodied knuckles soiled from whoever couldn't pay up. The next day, there'd be a house for sale. Since then, you knew better than to ever expect the kindness of a white man– knew better than to rely on one after they'd sent the devil to your door.

The distant muffle of conversation lures you out of your room, the wood creaking as you shuffled through the gloomy hallway. Hushed whispers slowed your footsteps, approaching the edge of the kitchen quietly. You peered into the small kitchen. “I can't,” Mami folded her arms. Her cardigan fell loose over her frame, disheveled as it draped her form. Her knuckles masked her lips as she bit away at her nails, pulling them away from her teeth forcibly. “I won't.” Nana's lips set into a thin line. “Do you really want to spend this morning being stubborn?” she asked, fingers interlocked. Her hands splayed neatly over her lap. “Today?”

Mami looked unsure, slowly shaking her head as she turned her back to Nana. “Dios nos va a proteger, (God will protect us.)” she assured. Mami didn't seem too convinced. You stepped forward out of the darkness, catching their eyes. Mami looked saddened, guilty for some reason. Nana gave a small smile, patting her lap softly. You roll your eyes, playful. “I'm too big, nana. I’ll end up breaking your hip.” She rests her arms against the chair's own. “You'll break my heart faster if you don't come here.” You sigh, long and drawn out. Too long to be taken seriously with that dopey smile on your face as you scuffle toward her. She pulls your hips down onto her lap, as if you don't weigh a thing– as if you were still that little kid playing with your wood-carved figures.

Mami doesn't bother facing you, not when you try to meet her eyes. She rests her hands on the cutting board, the blade of the knife resting at the edge of her palm. Your eyes linger over the the potted plant, wilting and withered. “You should give those some water and leave it by the window for a bit,” you suggested, voice lithe in hope to turn this into a good morning. For both your sakes. “It'll die out,” Nana nods. “There's nothing we can do, hijo.” Her words settle onto your skin wrong, for reasons you can't explain. You crane your neck to look at her. “There's always something we can do,” you insisted. “Just give it a bit of water—” Mami storms out of the kitchen, the sound of her door slamming shaking the walls. The silence after lays on thick, and Nana bows her head with a heavy sigh. “Don't worry about your mother, papi. She's just having a hard time.” she explained. You tilt your head slightly in confusion. “With what?”

“Saying goodbye.”

She tapped at your hip, not insistent, but enough for you to move off of her lap. You watched as she slowly stood, pushing off of the arms of the chair to anchor her weight and shuffle past you into the hallway. You could hear the soft knock on your Mami's door, and then waited. One second past, then two. Nana wouldn't knock again, only waited. There was a creak, a sliver of light and then darkness again as the door shut with a click. You don't know how long the two had talked, but long enough for the window to be idle as the blue morning sky faded into a warm yellow. There was a bang at the door— not of knuckles, just palm and brute force— one neither your Nana nor your Mami had hurried to answer. You stood from your chair, the seat left warm in your absence. Twisting the lock and pulling open the door, you're greeted with the sight of your tío you hadn't seen since your cousin's last birthday.

He looked tired, yet eager to see you once again. “Hey, kid. Long time, no see?” he chuckled. You pulled the door open further, smile giving faux annoyance away. “Seen enough, thank you.” He strode past you and into the house. You hadn't realized until the door opened how bright it was outside compared to the inside– dark and dreary. “Where's your mother?” You nodded toward her door, “She's been in there all morning talking to Nana. Is it...dad again?” You watched as his jaw set, his hand rising to his hat, like he considered taking it off. He hesitates, opting for scratching at his neck instead, the movement awkward and stiff. Mami said it was something he'd do often, a bad habit she hated— but a habit for what–? “Sure– yeah, of course. I'm sure she's upset about that.” he nodded, dismissive, walking past you. “Just sit tight, sobriño. We'll leave at dusk– gotta wait for the boys.”

You pushed the door shut, snuffing the daybreak's light from the room out like a dampened fire. You could hear heavy boots dragging down the hallway, the light peeking from the room. Small conversations are mumbled too low for you to hear. Your eyes distract you from distant chatter, flitting to the crested shotgun bolted to the wall behind glass. Markings had been carved into the silver of the receiver, some of flowers, some of crosses. Your legs tugged you closer, ducking your head beneath the glass to see more markings under the loading port. No, letters. No— initials. Your hand blankets your chest and over your necklace, gripping the cross Nana gave you tight in your palm. Pops' cross.

There was a drag of feet that thumped toward you, then stopped. Idle, like it'd been waiting for you to notice. You turn, meeting your tío's eyes once again. He looked exhausted. The same look he'd give to Pops whenever it came down to the nitty gritty of protecting this town— scraping together coins to get by. “You ready to carve yours there?” he asked, slicking back dark curls that fell short at his nape. He'd grown his hair out since Pops passed, stray hairs growing silver and out of place. You gave a slowed nod, nervous in ways you can't explain. Your chest felt tight again. It took him a bit to pull the thing down, nails stubborn to unhook from the wall. You watched as he struggled, unease never settling for what was to come. Finally, he pulled it free, nodding over at the dining room table. You settled back into your chair as he took his place beside you, placing the shotgun in front of you. Mami hated guns on the table. Your eyes slide over to her door, still shut and locked tight. “Eyes up, nephew.” he sniffed, brushing scarred knuckles against his nose.

His hands graced yours as you held the shotgun. Rough, worn. Your fingers trace the silver, over the carvings of flowers and leaves, down to your father's markings. His initials. M.N. — Malachi Narváez. You part your lips to a sigh without meaning to, tracing the patterns of his memory. You hadn't noticed the lingering eyes on you until your tío slapped his palm against your back, thumb brushing over your shoulder blade solemnly. “Let's put yours under his, yeah?” You nodded, gracefully accepting when he hands you a small chisel— a pinprick, really. He watches as you work at the metal, insistent. The sound of a door creaking open doesn't deter your focus, carving into the silver barrel. You lean back, proud, turning your head to meet— your mother's own. Her lips curve into the smallest smile, not meant for anyone else to see but you. Her eyes her bleary, swollen. She'd been adorned in her favorite blanket. The one you never thought would see the light of day. The one that lounged over Pops' chair. “Get ready, it's almost time.”

You nodded, pushing from your chair to grab your mudded boots by the door. “I'll check to make sure you loaded it properly.” he offered. You nod half-heartedly, distracted, shuffling into your boots. “Shouldn't I grab some more ammo?” you called out, fiddling with the laces and pulling them tight against your ankles. No answer. You could hear the pop of shell clank against the table, rolling against the wood. Your eyes linger over your tío's frame, half of it covered by the wall beside him from the distance. He whips his head around to meet your eyes with a small smile— forced, you note. “Just checkin' to make sure everything goes right.” he assured you. A lingering uncertainty swirled within your chest, but you ignored it with a wordless nod. “Shouldn't I grab some more ammo?” you asked again. He raised his head, meeting your eyes as he spoke. “Youdon't need to be loaded up on ammo,” he explained. “One shot is all it'd take.” There was a knock at the door, quiet, polite. Two shadows stood before the blurred, patterned glass, just on the other side of the door. Most likely your Pops and tíos' old friends. You sucked in a breath. Here goes everything.

Worn boots trudged into darkened woods, only led by the lantern that the ground beneath you basked in. Not even moonlight reached through the branches. Silence filled the air, the only sound echoing through the woods being footsteps overlapping. Your uncle and a few of your Pops' friends walked behind you, measured. It was tradition. No words would soothe the nerves of the hunter chosen, so no words were spoken. No songs would dull the fear in your bones— so no melody reached your ears. Minutes stretched on, silence dragging on even longer. Your breathing fell soft, blowing cold as you reached deeper and deeper. You hadn't even noticed the laterns behind you dimming with distance as you carried on. Your fingers clutched your gun, itching, waiting. Your eyes snap to the trees, to the flutter of something in the dark— an owl, you're sure. Maybe. You continued on, pace stuttering slightly. This is what you trained for. You opted for checking your gun again, every ounce of blood in your body screaming for you to— but you refuse. It's just nerves, you tell yourself.

You barely register it when you see it— a stretch of darkness stood still. Waiting. Just like they said he'd be. You halted, finger pressed against the trigger guard. The creature hadn't moved yet, didn't need to. He just stood there, as if he was waiting on you. You spoke first, voice loud as it echoed into the clearing. “You him?” you asked, and when the question fell short with silence, you spoke again. “Are you the devil?” Nothing. Not at first. Then, the figure stepped forward from beyond the shadows, languid. He said nothing, not at first, so you continued. “My Nana told me stories of a devil pretty as sin,” you noted. “You must be him.” She wasn't wrong. The man was handsome— defiantly so. The way curls settled over his forehead, the shadows hidden from moonlight cast under his brows and highlighting bright, flecks of red in his eyes that anyone could mistake for shine. Anyone other than you. His collar was loose, haint blue, in fact. He adorned a gold chain draped over his collarbone tucked beneath his wifebeater. His smile held false charm, wearing a lop-sided grin across his face, inviting. It was so... unsettling. Like staring at a wolf in sheep's clothing. He seemed entertained, cocking his head slightly. “That so?” his voice a honeyed rasp.

Your eyes fall over those fangs of his, glinting sharp in the light. “No reason we have to do this,” he reasoned, stepping even closer, his movements betraying his words. They way he approached you was downright predatory. “I mean— I don't even know yer name, darlin'.” You hesitated. Normally, you wouldn't have settled for so much small talk– you weren't here for that. But you couldn't help but feel for the man. He seemed...nice. Nice isn't the name of the man who killed your family. Nice isn't why Pops isn't here anymore. Your brows furrow.“You don't need to know my name,” you grit, bitter, angry. “You know why I'm here.” And that's all he needed. Your hands tightened over your gun. “Well, alright then.” he conceded, holding his palms up in mock-surrender. It felt...too easy. You were sure there'd be more fight. Nana said he liked when you fought back, so why isn't he? “I thought you liked a lil' challenge. You just gonna give it to me?” you asked. His grin grows, like a weed. “Just tryin' t'make it easier for you, sweetheart.” You shake away the sickness pooling in your stomach from the nickname. Right, sickness. Focus, you admonished. Your finger slipped into the guard, holding the pad of your index over the trigger. Your palm clutched the forestock, tight. Breathe in, breathe out, brace and...

Click.

The sound was hollow, barren with silence following after. The man stood in the same place as before, with that same cheshire grin. What? You pulled again, harder this time. Click. Click, click, click. You froze, as still as a deer in headlights. No. God, please no. Don't tell me... Your heart sank, blood running cold as a chill washes over you. It was loaded, right? Right? You racked. You remember doing it. You even checked after. Double-checked. Your tío had even offered to check after you. Wait. You didn't bother glancing back up at those fiery, red eyes on you. Like danger was an afterthought. Right now, your sanity was being tested. You couldn't put it together. Why would he have needed to check after you anyway...? He knew you knew how to load a shotgun, he'd help you practice cleaning it after. Your ears buzzed, his words rang in your head, “Just checkin' to make sure everything goes right.” he assured you. You knew it had to be loaded, because you could hear the clack of the shell popping from the action onto the dining table. Oh. Oh no. No, he'd never... You press-check, desperate fingers slide over the loading port.

“Pretty, huh?” his voice drawls, dipped low in molasses— thick, suffocating. Like he'd been eager to make himself known again. He strides forward, every step languid, savored. His eyes raked over your body, like sin. Your finger fumbles, hands clumsy as you desperately search your hips for ammo. Your uncle's voice whispered through your terror. “One shot is all it'd take.” And all at once, it clicked. Why his lingering eyes hovered too long. Why he was quick to hush conversation. Oh god. Oh god. Tears flooded your eyes, face wet as you sobbed, open and broken. They set you up. Your own family— your own kin. Mami's face flashed in your mind. Her swollen, reddened eyes. Her words. “I can't,” Her voice– strained. “I won't.” Nana's words— saddened, downcast, guilt-ridden. She wouldn't dare to look at you. “Saying goodbye.” Realization sank into your bones, your skin running cold from the air's chill. It hit harder than a truck. No, this was worse. Not a single bone twisted or broken, not a single scratch or scrape of skin. Just heartbreak. Betrayal. Your legs caved, dropping into the dirt— your mind was at war with itself.

“They didn't tell you, did they?” The man rumbled, and you stopped, your cries deafened. You paused, eyes slowly traveling back up to meet the man in front of you. Whatever was in your eyes was enough of an answer for him. He shook his head in some sort of mock-sympathy, “They never do. I can't lie— the look on yer faces is worth it every damn time.” He chuckles, the sound wry— like he'd been stripped of any sense of normalcy of conversation. He steps forward, measured, like he'd been approaching a scared animal. “Tell me what? Who?” you asked, defensive. You didn't miss the way he ate up the distance between you, clutching the flask of holy water at your hip like a vice. He slows, eyes flitting to the flask in your hand. His hands fall easy at his side.

“A couple decades ago, I found this town o' yers. Less people than when I first came.” he nods to himself. “Yeah...I was gon' kill every last one of ya.” he mutters to himself, eerily casual— like he was talking about the weather. Your heart sinks as he steps forward, arms folded behind himself, restrained. “But yer great-great-so-many-fuckin'-greats grandaddy convinced me to only kill one of ya every good couple of years or so. Said it'd be bad if the livestock up n' died before they could carry on multiplyin'.” What? His voice carried through the emptied clearing, nothing but you, him and a prayer between you. A hope you wouldn't die slow. Or at all. We can't all be so lucky. “Yer ancestors made a deal with me— a pact. One that's been carried on for longer than you've been alive. One that keeps me fed, and keep most of you alive.” Your mouth fell open, and he pretends his eyes didn't linger when it did. “No, that— they'd never,” you averred. “And yet here you are.” he attests. You could feel bile rise to your throat. Livestock? Like you were nothing but sheep and cattle? “Course they still had to keep up appearances n' all. Paintin' it out to be some heroic effort. Strange how you ain't even question why all them men lined up to fire, and yet you were the last to be handed that gun o' yers.” He jabbed his finger at the shotgun in your hand. A hand-me-down. Your eyes pool with tears again, sniffles growing louder, having purpose. How stupid of you— feeling purpose in a meaningless death.

You could hear your daddy's voice screaming into your blood. Get up. Did he know? The man's pace didn't slow, didn't need to. You clearly weren't going anywhere. Get up. Did they send him off to his death too? Your eyes fall over the list of initials carved into the shotgun in your hand. Oh god– all those names. You choked back bile, sobbing harder. You held a graveyard in your hand. Get up. Was it here? Did your father die here? Blood smeared over his face, unrecognizable— his chest caved in? Did he rasp your name with his last breath? Your chest heaved for air, desperate. You felt sick. Get up. Now. You shook your head slowly, eyes blurred with tears. Your body trembled, weakened. What was even the point of fighting? Stronger men had been standing in this very dirt. Stronger men had their initials left behind on the same shotgun in your hand. What was there left for you to do? The earth had shattered all around you, your resolve crumpled beneath your knees.

“Aw, don't cry darlin'. S'alright, I promise,” he cooed, kneeling before you— mirroring you. His fingers felt light, gracing the gun in your hand before his grip around it's neck tightens. You can't pull away, frozen. You watch almost helplessly as he points the gun toward his lips, pressing a light kiss over the barrel. You could hear a brief sizzle. You ignore the way your chest flutters from it. He doesn't. “Each time I stood right here— staring down a man in the face, I offered him a choice not to fear death— but to be loved by it. Yer father, and his father's father, and every man that stood where you are right now met the same fate not because they'd been damned by me— but because they wanted to— because they refused my gift to them.” His hand rests over your cheek, careful claws guided away from dredging into your skin. He lifted your chin to meet his gaze— those pools of red light washing over your skin. “You don't need t'bury yourself in death's arms unless you crave for its kiss, sweetness.” Your mind swam, all reason holding on by a thread as your head throbbing. You had cried yourself dry, and he had let you. And now here was, picking up the pieces. A question dug at your mind, recalling something your Nana said. Was the devil pretty because he was kind, or because he was tempting?

He rested his head against your own— not fearing what you'd been owed to do to him, but what you'd do to yourself if no one had been there to do so. “If you give yerself t'me, completely— I'll cherish you in ways your lil' heart isn't capable of fathomin'.” You hadn't even processed the shift in position until your back pressed against something soft, until you'd already been sinking down into the dirt, his hand cradling your head— practiced. Like baptism. You couldn't speak, didn't need to. The whisper of words you beckoned to leave your lips were answered by his own without needing you to. “I ain't gon' kill you, sweet thing,” he spoke, his voice low and honeyed. “I'm gon' turn you int'a something new,” He avowed, nuzzling against your cheek. You feel his lips brushing against your neck— featherlight, before he pulls away— like he punished himself for closing the distance between the two of you. “Only if y'want it.” he adds under his breath, The sound of his voice felt like deliverance. “Tell me you want it.” he whispers. “I– I can't,” You stammered, the words fall so easily from your lips before you could even think. Your arms scrambled for ground beneath you. You can't? Not ‘you don't want to’— can't? “My– my family said you were—”

“Your family let you live a lie,” he interjects, sharp-tongued and vehement. As if he shared your anger like a secret— like a burden. He persists, and you let him. “You fought for a lie— lived for a lie.” Your eyes zero in on the pointed claw before you, his jaw clenched. "Y'know, I– I'd lie to you and say I didn't enjoy killin' some of those men,” he granted, “But you've had enough of that, now, haven't you?” Your mouth opened and shut, wordless. He took your silence as permission to continue, “I can't say I regret what I've done– That I regret feeling their ribs crack and cave beneath my palm— regret their blood, warm as it soaked my lips or the way my teeth sank beneath their skin int'a somethin' real– somethin' raw. 'Cause deep down I knew it'd lead me to you— to my salvation.” His eyes were honest, reverent. “You will be my greatest creation.”

He settled over you, thighs bracketing your waist. Gold dangled over your face— what felt like a glimmering virtue swung above you. His claws trailed over your sweat-soaked shirt, lithe as they popped your buttons with ease. His palm mapped over your skin, supple under his touch. He shuddered, lips parting with need. He was drooling, saliva thick dribbling down over his chin. “Let me be your liberation,” A soft plea as eyes flit to your open throat. “Please.” he pleaded, broken open. You nodded, acquiescent. What else could you do? You'd been playing into some fantasy, self-assured and righteous. The ending had already been picked out for you and you just sat there and took it— hands held out for more. His hands to slip over your wrists, firm. He places a kiss to your forehead, devout. He guides his lips down, down, down over the call of your pulse. Your blood thrummed beneath your skin for him as you squirmed. You felt bare, vulnerable. Messing around with boys behind the church was one thing, but this...this was something else entirely.

“I can smell you,” he rasped, nosing under the soft of your jaw. “'Can smell the fear in your nerves— your hesitance.” He lapped at the skin, desperate. “In case you ain't notice yet, darlin', yer body ain't fightin' back.” Then you feel it. A pinch at first, the point of his fangs slipping beneath your skin before the burn grows, your skin stretching to make space for him. You writhe beneath him at the bite, his teeth clamping down. Your lips were useless, babbling sweet cries and sobs for him. “No, no, hurts, I can't do this, I can't—” He doesn't shush you, only holds onto you tighter, thumb rubbing soothing circles into your shoulder. “You can, sweetness, I know you can,” he murmurs, voice muffled. “What's mine will forever be yours.” And then, cold rushes over your wound, accompanied by the crawl of something wet. Then, quiet, his body growing rigid. “Oh, hell...”

He inhales, deep. Like a shark smelling blood in water. A shudder follows silence. And then you feel it— feel him, anchored to your neck something desperate, filthy. He suckles and god, it's so good. You whimper, soft. He groans, the sound reverberating against your skin. He pulls away, eyes rolled back in ecstasy, blood dripped from his lips like molasses. “Fuck, so good—” Your ears buzzed, almost drowning out the sound of blood squelching, pulsing from your wound. Almost. “Like heaven on my tongue.” He wasted little time opening you up beneath him, suckling, biting and lapping at your neck. “More, more, please–” he begs, dragging his mouth from your neck as he ruts against you.

“Been— shit— needin' this,” He pushes your thighs aside, crowding into the space between them like he owned it. And he did. “Starved of it like you wouldn't believe.” he chuckles, chest heaving, panting like he'd been out of breath— like he couldn't breathe without being buried in the soft of your neck. Your face contorted, twisting in agony from the ache, the burn sinking deeper into your skin— searing. You couldn't even focus on the pain alone without his filthy, needy sounds flooding your head. Was he...getting off to this? Were you? Something thick pushed eagerly against your inner thigh, deprived, heavy. Heat pooled in your stomach at the thought, something dark — hidden being pulled to the surface. Fuck. You hadn't even realized you'd been rocking your hips against him. Shame buried itself beneath your skin, face flushed.

You gasped as he fucked his hips into you—once, twice, three times— bucking into the tent of your pants. You didn't want this. There's no you did— no way you were seriously getting off to this man— no, this devil above you rutting into like desperate, heat-seeking mutt. The same devil you'd been sent to kill— the same devil haunting your bloodline for years, like cold sinking deep beneath your bones. You prayed it'd at least go unnoticed, but with the slightest drag of his hips, a moan falls from your lips like a vice— and there he is to catch it.

“Ah-ha? What's all this?” He rolled his hips again experimentally, flush against your own, eliciting a sound you didn't even know you were capable of, buried deep. You felt caged beneath him, his hands dug delved into the dirt as he relished in the sight of you— no doubt a mess. Your curls mussed, sticking with sweat against your brows, shirts raked up and pulled apart. “Knew you needed it just as bad—” he keened. “Fuck—tryin' to hide it from me, huh, sweet thing?” he tuts, tugging your slacks down from your hips, claws dragging against your skin. His demeanor changes almost completely, no longer some desperate thing ducked between your thighs, no. Something colder, certain. He yanked away the last barrier between the two of you with a hiss, impatient.

“I can me show you what sanctuary could be,” he vows, truth waiting beyond what patience could hold. “With me.” Nothing but shredded cotton surrounds your naked hips. Nothing but his lips, soaked, bathing in your skin. Blood drips from his lips— your blood as his spits onto your hole— filthy. You groan, craning your neck to watch. His eyes flit to meet yours, pupils blown into black watching you, fervent. A claw— no— two push past your lips, open, pushing onto your tongue. Your moan is muffled, drool pooling under the muscle. His attention on you, rapt as he nods— drunk on the sight alone. “Yes, yes— so good,” he praises, candid. “So, so good. Savor it.” Your lips enveloped the taste of his fingers, salt coating your tongue. Your eyes flutter shut, suckling on deft fingers, thick in your mouth. He pushes them in deeper, relishing in the way you gag— gasping for breath.

“Fuck, can't wait,” he pants. “Gotta do it now— gotta make it good for you.” He's drooling like a dog and it's filthy. You couldn't even ask what he meant before he returns to your neck, like home. His jaws shut over the expanse of your throat, over the bite he where he marked you as his. You clawed at his back, desperation eating away at you, but to no avail. He hadn't even budged. You couldn't even scream, cold rushing over you as your strength waned. You gurgled, only able to listen to the flesh tearing from your throat— to the sound of teeth gnashing flayed flesh, blood squelching, gluttonous. Your vision began to white out, and then, you felt it— something pressing into you, between your thighs— slow, purposeful.

“So fuckin' sweet for me,” he growled against your neck, hips flush against your ass. Memories flood your mind, desperate— defiant. Mami, her soft eyes as spun, Pops there to catch her, high on an old melody. Nana watching, her eyes crinkled into crescents with a small chuckle. Your tío, taking a swill from a bottle nearing empty, grounding as he kept his eyes on your little cousins, jumping to the music, giggles filling the air. You choke, eyes rolling to meet moonlight above you. You could barely stifle the sob that'd been punched out of you. This is what your life had come to— ended. A hand angles your head, baring your neck more, saliva slicking your throat— well, what was left of it. Your vision swims in darkness, and then... Nothing.

Nothing but cold. Nothing but dark. Nothing until— you gasp, lunging forward. Once again, he's there to catch you, shushing your sweet sleep-drunkened cries softly. He cups your cheeks, soothing you back down. “S'alright, 'm here, darlin'. I'm here.” Your chest heaved...needlessly. You could feel it somehow — a shift. A shaky hand travels over to the wound— to where he bit you. The flesh had still been torn open, but you felt...nothing. Nothing but hunger— raw, a primal need to sink your teeth into something. Anything to pacify the itch in your gums. Your eyes travel up to meet his, an image floods your mind of you— you staring back at him. Him staring back at you. Letters flood your thoughts, persistent. Like it was determined to be carved in your very consciousness. A name falls from your lips, the only one that matters, “Remmick.” you whisper. “Yes, yes– that's right,” He nods, pleased, his smile stretching over blood-soaking lips. “Let me feed ya, sweet thing. Y'must be starved.”

And you were. Your stomach felt hollow, empty. Go on. It ushers, the voice in your head not your own— not even your father's. His. He pushes his wrist before you, and your eyes fall over the skin, pale in moonlight. You move before you can even blink, teeth piercing his skin. He groans, within bliss. “Fuck— yes, bite down, darlin', let me feel those pretty lil' fangs o' yers.” Warmth rushes past your lips and you slurp, natural— needed. You moan, the taste fading from copper into something sweet. God it's good, so fucking good. Your hands wrapped his arm, firm, grounding. You couldn't stop, not that you wanted to. It felt so relieving. So—

Good. The voice filled, his own. “Go on. Drink me down, darlin'. Don't stop.” He watched, enamoured by your need, by your hunger. You could feel him twitch, pulsing between your thighs— to where the two of you connected. He'd been so patient, waiting until you woke to fuck into you, nice and slow— buried to the hilt. Your eyes flutter as he sinks into you, rolling back. You could drown in this feeling. He groaned— no, you— no, the both of you did in unison. So this is what he meant. A gift, born from death. Sanctuary. His eyes trailed over your lips, pressed insistently against his wrist. He moaned, and in turn, so did you.

The feeling was freeing, a lustful haze clouding all judgement and reason. “Fuckin' beautiful.” he breathed out, hips pistoning into you once again. He filled you completely— mind and body, blood and soul. You could see where you two connected, a bulge in your stomach. “Oh god—” you mewled, head dipping back with blood-slickened lips. He shook his head, amused. “Not god, sweetness, just me.” You groaned into his wrist, not wasting a single drop more. Your cheeks hollowed as you sucked, paced. He mirrored your tempo to the buck of his hips, feeling you fill him and him, you. You clenched around him, testing, and a ghost of something tight and wet enveloped your cock. Oh fuck. You could feel him fucking you, and you fucking him— sharing sweet, melodic pain as it sings into you both. He'd memorized your name, reciting it. Like a poem. He hovers over you, mouth dripping with your blood like honey falls from his lips and onto yours. And it's so good. Why is it so good?

A shared thought between you before you can catch yourself. Intrusive, you tell yourself. But a call to him nonetheless. Move faster. He indulges. He eases you back to his wrist, to where pain hums your name, but you shake your head— full, in every sense of the word. He pushes his wrist into your mouth, uncaring. He loved it. The sight of you drinking him dry—the insistent feel of his cock nudging against that gummy spot ruthlessly, your hole squeezing his cock like a lifeline— like he'd leave. Not going anywhere. He filled, never. You sob and he moans, reverent, pleased. He doesn't wipe the tears staining your cheeks. Of course not. You don't smudge a painting if you see a stray scrape of off-color. You embrace it. “Fuckin' love it when you cry for me,” he rasps. “Can feel you gettin' tighter each time.” You could see yourself in the slivers of moonlight within his eyes, sobbing and blood-slickened beneath him. Beautiful.

You lift your hips on instinct, allowing his thighs to slip beneath your ass. The movement practiced, synced. His hands fell over your hips, claws biting into your skin. He held his palm over the bump under your navel, over him. “Told ya I could make it good,” he chuckled, breathy. “All you needed, all you could ever want—” he groaned. He picked up the pace, hips snapping forward with grit and little grace. You swallow him whole, opening yourself up to take him impossibly deeper. Your voice drowns out all reason, sweet little moans and whimpers fall short from your lips. Delectable. He droned. You felt dizzy, the sky and stars spinning above you with heavy-lidded eyes. You mumbled pretty little nothings, thighs twitching and hips jerking to meet his own. You both moaned in tandem. Everything felt clearer— every memory of his overlapped your own, feelings and thoughts so clear— they felt like your own. You could see everything, and he let you. Bared. Faces, names, some you'd never meet and others— others you'd...

You'd known. Your hips slowed, stuttered. His hadn't, pressing into you like salt into a wound. Your grandfather's face flashed in your mind, smothered in dirt and blood. His hands were withered— wrinkled. He spat into the grass below, charging with nothing but an empty shotgun. Same as your father— his face was bruised and bloodied. You felt sick. If Remmick noticed, he never slowed, cock still pumping in and out of you without falter. Your legs kicked out faster than your brain could process what you were doing. “Wait—” He growled, pushing your thighs further apart muttering something incomprehensible— something ancient, something dangerous. Your consciousness slipped the words into your head like a note beneath a door. “Feum ort...dh'fheumadh mi. Chrath thu— (Need you...needed me. Craved you—)” They were muttered to himself, but shared nonetheless, like a prayer— like a ritual.

“Rem– Remmick stop it—” you gasped, feeling yourself teetering on the edge. Memories of your father's ragged breathing flood your ears. The haze had begun to fade, disgust festering in your stomach. You didn't want to see that. You didn't want to remember what he was. And that's exactly what he wanted— to give you a taste of what he is— what he's capable of. Remmick leaned down, nipping at your ear. “So sweet, god, it's killin' me.” he groaned. He licked at the shell of it, tempting, distracting. Heat pooled in your stomach, a flickering flame. “Remmick, fucking stop, you're doing it on purpose—”

The voice continued it's incantation, etching itself like a sigil in your mind. He tilts his head, empty, not quite there. Like he wasn't even aware of what he was doing— saying. “You don't want me to.” he states— not cocky, but assured. “I told you darlin,” his tongue darts between his lips, slow. Languid. “What's mine, will forever be yours.” You choke, a moan spilling from your lips as you swallow. “Fuck, wait I'm gonna- I have to—” You struggled against him, attempting to stave off your impending orgasm, pushing it down. It didn't matter. He'd fuck you through it, thrusts growing sloppy— thoughtless. “I waited long enough, darlin'.”Look at me. His voice chanted into your mind— into your soul. Look at me, he commanded again. His hips slowed, granting you focus on anything other than searing pleasure ripping through your body. Your eyes met his– his never straying from yours, pearls swallowed in black so far, you couldn't see a shred of light in them— cold.

You could see yourself through him, your lips sullied in blood and sin. Only then did he pick up his pace, fucking into you. One word kept ringing in your head— mine. You didn't look away—couldn't—his eyes compelled you to meet his own. “So pretty like this,” he rasped. “Please,” you whispered, soft pleas falling on deaf ears. “I don't want your memories—” you sobbed. A flash of hurt washed over his face, his head tilting to the side with knit brows. “Without his eyes even needing to stray from yours, his fingers laced over your cock, thumb smearing the long-neglected dribble of precum over the tip. Mine. Your cock twitched, needy. Remmick's tongue darted past his lip, slowly withdrawing back into his mouth. Mine. He could feel it— how close you were, didn't allow you to shy from him. You belonged to him. The thought was overwhelming. You tried to fight against it, uselessly.

Thick spurts of white coat the expanse of your stomach and you whine softly— but that hadn't stopped him. “Attaboy,” he murmured. Your stomach flutters, squeezing tight around his cock. He stroked you through your orgasm, unrelenting, pushing you into overstimulation. “Fuck, wait–” Your back bowed, shaky hands pushing against his chest. “Please,” you whimpered. He leans down, his body blanketing your own, so much closer— deeper than before. You could feel yourself clench around him, like the feeling was your own. You moaned, lips parting. “Remmick, please—” Mine. He was long gone, completely fuckdrunk. “Takin' it so good, just like I knew y'would,” he slurred. Only when he comes— slamming so hard into you, your sure it'll leave bruises over your ass does he come to. His come spills into you— hips bucking once, twice to make sure it stays. All mine. He doesn't even register that he came, fixated on you entirely— on the way your chest rises and falls, the way your thighs twitch when he rakes his nails over soft skin, the way your voice had fell quiet right as you came— it was addicting. You could feel it, the way he looked at you. Everything of his was yours now.

He pulls away, cock softening between your thighs. The sound he makes as his nose dips into your neck is ruinous. He groans openly, the sound broken— pathetic, lonely noises finally having an audience. “Waited so long—” he keened, voice wrecked in every sense of the word. “All I needed, n' here you are. A prayer in my arms.” He cradled you tight against his chest. Soft, careful. Like you were made of glass— easy to break. He could feel your mind stirring, small thoughts bubbling to the surface, boiling. He knew exactly what you were thinking. Still, he spoke, low and sweet— “Tell me,” Not commanding, but authoritative. “My family,” you whispered. “They...they left me to die. They knew, they all knew and—” you cut yourself off, swallowing thickly. He could hear your heartbeat, a loud, rhythmic thrumming within your chest. A melody he'd commit to memory.

“You're supposed to be dead. Or I am. Whichever doesn't matter anymore I suppose, since we both are.” There was no lithe to your words, hanging heavy in silence. You could feel him shift, reddened flecks of light drawn to you like moths to a flame. A claw dents your skin, not enough to scratch as he cups your jaw. Gentle, reverent. “For years I've grown bitter from seeing what man has done unto man,” he rumbles, a small shift in his voice. A mix of spite and something unheard of. He continues, eyes flitting away from you and to the darkness.“And for years, I've let it fester. Let myself fall privy to man's sin— to their greed, their selfishness.” A soft stroke of his thumb to your cheek. “Until I realized what man fears most—”Silence lingered as you waited for him to fill it, tilting your head slightly. His gaze was trapped, sunk into the darkness as it stared back at him. “Judgement.” he filled. “A firm hand to guide them, not of righteousness, but of cynicism.” his voice shifted into something lower, foreign. His eyes flit to you, devout. “You will be that hand, darlin'. They fear regret— fear emanation. Consequence.”

“So be their mirror, and stare them in the face.”

With every drag of your body, your strength threatened to wane. You limped forward, the lace of your boots strung out, your shirt carved open— blood sunk into the cotton. Mudded soles thump against the wood of the porch. Your hand twisted at the knob, unsurprised to find it stiff. There's a brief moment of silence, of waiting. You could see the stars swimming above you in fading darkness through the patterned glass. Then, a click. The door creaked open, unsure. You were greeted by the sight of your family, your tío with his hand on the door while Mami and Nana sat at the dining room table, peering from behind the wall. You could imagine how you looked— blood-soaked mouth, dried at your neck. It did little to cover the gaping wound. Your collar pulled loose, drenched in darkened blood. Yours, his— did it matter? You waited, eyeing the threshold. Your eyes met your uncle's, lingering. His hand jerked without it meaning to, habitual.

The door pulled back, away from you, welcoming. You strode in, feet dragging against the hardwood. Mami would've said something about the mud, about leaving your shoes at the door. Mami was quiet, her eyes wide, fearful. Your curls were mussed, humidity caught up to them all the same. You still clung the shotgun in your hand, this time careful to avoid the silver-lined carvings. You let it hang at your leg, almost dangled. You didn't bother turning your head, walking straight for the table— to where you'd first heard the clank of a shell. Your tío didn't stop you, just held the door open in fear, like the devil's shadow would follow after you. A revered guest. In a way, he was. Your eyes don't meet Mami's, never bothering to glance at her terror-stricken face. Your nails rake down over the table, until they meet the silver shotgun shells. You hesitate, feeling the heat of them before they even reached your fingertips. You scoop them into your hands, the sizzle in your hands agonizing. Mami and Nana watch in horror, understanding washing over their face. You muttered, under your breath but loud and clear enough for them to hear, the silence surrounding it deafening.

“Forgot these.”