#Sliding Windows Installation work

[windowcompany]

[slowdivinqs]

Golden

Summary: A Sunday afternoon on your farm with Joel.

WC: 4K

Warnings: 18+ MDNI! Soft, dorky Joel. We pretend Abby and Joel chatted it out. Joel and JJ moments. Breeding ( ? ) kink. Oral sex f! receiving. PinV. Joel doing physical labor…yeah. Can imagine Pedro or game Joel. Reader can paint!

A/N: I just wanted to give a HUGE thank you for all the love, kind words and support on Magnetism! You all melt my heart. Thank you! I’m not so happy with the smut in this but whatever :,)

The Sade record crackles before your favorite song on the album begins drifting through the air. The birthday gift Joel gave you last year that made hot tears fall out of your eyes, just like him when you gave him a painting of Sarah and Ellie for his birthday that hangs in his woodworking space. Your birthday last year ended with 8 hours spent in the sheets, passed out by the end of it, Joel with a sore back for a week - yet claims it was worth it.

You look up at him right now, peering outside the large kitchen windows and spotting him pulling out carrots, in a tight shirt and his work jeans, arms flexing at the particularly stubborn ones. Banjo following along and sniffing inside Joel’s wicker basket filled with vegetables, his tail smacking into Joel’s side. Rosie and Posie bleating in the distance, their fuzzy woolen coats glowing in the sun, seeming to also take an interest in watching Joel work, just like you.

You hear Banjo’s excited barks before Joel closes the dog's mouth shut with his hand playfully, shaking Banjo’s head side to side lightly, riling him up. The sun starts to set behind them, past the fence surrounding your ranch, behind the tall Wyoming mountains. Orange, pink, and yellow, exploding in waves. The bees returning to their hives from the flower box in front of the kitchen windows．

You laugh when Banjo manages to knock Joel over lightly, the two tumbling onto the grass. Joel laughs too, holding the border collie back with his forearm as he tries to lick Joel’s face with all his might.

You smile to yourself as you get back to work, just as Sade starts singing about ‘his hands’ and ‘the way the mountains look’. Lost in the haze of measuring out ingredients, 2 and 3 quarter cups flour, a quarter cup of sugar. Feeling the weight of the ingredients slide into the bowl. Just as you see Joel slowly walk towards the chicken coup, Banjo waiting in the grass - knowing he’s not allowed there.

Milk and salt are next, and you drift over to the fridge to grab the milk, your long white skirt, embraced with abstract flowery patterns flows against your bare ankles as your toes feel the comforting wooden floors of your warm farm home that Joel made sure to install after you mindlessly talked about your love for warm wooden accents. Sat a 20-minute walk outside the walls of Jackson, a small distance away from Ellie’s farm, closer to the lush woods atop the hills.

As you settle back by the kitchen counter, lit up by warm - almost honey-colored rays of sunlight, you try to spot Joel amongst the chickens, but he seems to have vanished, Banjo too.

You glance around surprised for a moment, your eyes flitting from the coup to the vegetable patches, to the flower beds he planted for you, the fairy garden that he denies he took part in yet carved all of the little toadstool homes for you, and Ellie to paint, and even to Old Beardy grazing in the distance, yet Joel is nowhere to be found.

You even turn to the back door, yet there’s no sign of your man. How can a big teddy bear like him disappear in less than a minute?

You jump and let out an embarrassing squeak as a sudden flash of salt and pepper pops up right on the other side of the window pane. You clutch a hand over your chest as Joel’s face comes into view, his cheeky smile and scruffy beard. Utterly pleased with himself at his success in startling you.

You glare at him half-heartedly, trying to hide the smile that’s inching up your face.

He reaches into one of the large pockets in his jeans, and your attempt at hiding your smile fails when he pulls out a little yellow chick. He lifts it to your view, the little fluff ball wiggling and chirping, looking tiny in Joel’s large, dirty palms. His smile grows wider and tender as he sees you beam at the sight through the window.

He scratches the chick’s head with one of his fingers before walking back to reunite the yellow baby with its mama.

You laugh to yourself at his antics. At a grown, grizzly man, surprising you with a baby chicken. He’s a dork and doesn’t deny the allegations when they’re thrown his way.

Banjo runs circles around the vegetable garden just as the back door opens, closing softly with a click. Joel’s heavy footfall, accentuated by his boots, sounds behind you, getting softer as he heads to the guest bathroom. The house creaks and groans as the water turns on. You’re back to baking.

“Smells real good.”

He hums, his, now soft, footfall appearing once again as he approaches from behind you, burying his face in your neck and sniffling dramatically, you feel his wet beard and hair drip onto your neck, giving you goosies. He’s splashed his face and washed his hands, probably so he can distract you without your scolding.

“Me or the food, old man?” You ask with a smile, continuing to knead the dough.

“‘Mm, both.” He hums, rubbing his facial hair against your neck like a cat. You suspect he might start purring soon. It’s not unlike him, even though he ignores you when you tell him that he basically purrs while snuggling against your chest as you read whatever novel you two have picked aloud to him in the evenings.

“Cinnamon rolls, bread’s in the often.” You hum, tilting your head to the side so he can keep giving you his beard scratches. He starts nibbling too now. You sway your hips slightly to the music, and the way his hands fall to your hips tells you all you need to know.

“Cinnamon rolls.” He repeats amused, smiling against your skin, nibbling again to make you tut at him, grinning when you do.

“Ellie and Dina are comin’ over later.” You say as you grab the jar of cinnamon on the shelf, leaving Joel to step back and watch.

“They bringin’ JJ?” Joel asks, voice loosing his husky tiredness and instead replaced with a lighter sound.

“Yes baby, they’re bringing JJ.” You say with a soft smile, looking back at him only to find he’s disappeared once more. That man is silent as a mouse usually - a habit you suppose. Although, whenever he walks into the house, he does three stomps of his boots - just to make sure you know it’s him. He may have gone soft, but there are some things time will never strip away entirely. His knack for safety is one of them.

Just as you’re finished adding all the wet ingredients to your dry ones, you hear Joel in the living room lowering a box, a few things spilling out. An obnoxious squeak of a toy - you think it’s banjo’s plastic chicken that Joel hid away after the noise drove Joel so insane he accidentally beheaded a cowboy carving he was working on for a month. You catch Banjo’s head shoot up as if he got a sense that his long-lost soulmate is near. Joel hides the chicken away again quickly.

He’s brought out the small bundle of toys you two own - JJ’s toy box - Joel calls it, even made one of those shape sorters and toy soldiers for the little boy to play with, and asked you to paint them when he was done, as he does most of his carvings.

This is the one thing Joel doesn’t try to hide his excitement about. Whenever he sees JJ, or ‘potato’ as Ellie calls him, they might as well be the only people in the world. You think it’s the sweetest thing, makes you want to beg him to have a potato of your own, your body going into overdrive imagining how he’d look at your child while putting them to sleep, how he’d kiss their forehead softly.

Joel begins to organize the toys, placing the few dinosaurs, soldiers, and stuffed animals in a battle scene. The soldiers are apparently no match for the fluffy bear, as he’s flung them around in defeat.

Never did you think you’d see the day that Joel Miller would organize a battle scene between stuffed animals and wooden soldiers, just to see JJ’s face light up in excitement - like the little boy's face doesn’t already do that when he just sees Joel as the front door opens.

You manage to pull your eyes away and start folding your dough. Smiling to yourself at your sweet sweet man. Your stomach swoops the more you think, kneading the dough mindlessly as you’re painfully reminded how badly you want it. How badly you want him to pump you full, make you swell. You don’t even notice how your eyes have gone hazy, kneading the dough harder and harder until you jump at Joel’s big hands cupping your wrists from behind, pulling them upwards slightly to relax them. His beard tickles the fly always at the back of your neck as he kisses the soft skin there.

“What’s got my lady all worked up, hm?” He murmurs against your neck, kissing down the side and inhaling, almost like he wants to brand himself with you.

“You.” You whisper shakily, squeezing the dough slightly like an anchor. You feel his cheeky, boyish smile against your skin, only for a moment before he replaces that smirk with a nibble.

“Me?” He asked softly, planting his chin over your shoulder to watch as you ‘work’, definitely not to watch the way his calloused hands cup over your tits. The dough between your palms is the only thing keeping you stable right now.

“Yes, you.” It’s a breathy whisper, and although he doesn’t see it - Joel already knows your eyes are drooping when you tip your head back slightly, able to breathe in that perfect scent of him after he’s spent the day working in the sun. The musk that is uniquely Joel, that screams man man man.

“Don’t know what you mean, honey bee.” He hums, his mouth ghosting over your earlobe just as his thumbs circle over where your nipples are unfortunately hidden away from him. He knows exactly what you mean.

“Why don’t you head South and find out then, cowboy?” You tease, expecting a playful slap and pinch of your ass before he wanders off to the shower, but instead, you find his hands, then his whole self sliding down down down until his knees plant themselves on the floor.

“Gonna let me spoil my desert?” He hums, his hands sliding slowly up from your ankles, bringing your skirt with them, until he can see the little cotton-lace panties that are hidden underneath. He bites the soft swell of your right asscheek that the cotton doesn’t cover.

Your teeth sink into your bottom lip softly as you arch your back slightly, leaning your weight on the dough, squeezing harder as the soft caress of your thighs leaves you dripping - more so than before.

“You know I’d let you do anything.” You whisper to him, and it’s all he needs before you feel his calloused fingers on your lower back, sinking into your underwear before dragging them down, burying his head under your skirt.

He throws your panties somewhere, with a proper flick of his wrist. You can see them land somewhere in your periphery, the white lace discarded, very Joel-like in the most crude matter possible.

“Joel!-“ you begin to exclaim before his warm tongue parts your slick folds with an obscene sound. Slurping up the wetness he’s found as his calloused hands grip the front of your thighs. Squeezing tightly like it’ll let him get his tongue deeper into your pussy.

You almost want to laugh at what it must look like: his head buried under your long white skirt, like a ghost he probably dressed up as for Halloween. But fortunately for him, you can’t laugh when his mouth has sealed around the hood of your clit, when it’s hot hot hot and wet.

“Oh, Joel-” you moan in a breathless gasp, your head falling back and then forward as his tongue licks the underside of your clit, making you squeeze the poor dough for it’s life.

He groans into your pussy, tongue leaving your clit to lick side to side, sliding down your cunt until it’s breaching your drenched hole. His hands grip your ass-cheeks tightly, eating at you like it’s his last meal.

He pushes two of those thick fingers inside you, instantly curling forward so deliciously you think you might die. You lose your voice, moaning hoarsely as you clench around the intrusion. He starts moving his hand faster, paired with the suckling of his hot mouth on your clit, you’re not going to last much longer.

“Give it t’me baby- let me have it.” He whispers against you, and it’s his words that do it, as well as that final crook of his fingers that hit you right where you need him. You’re cumming with an intensity only he can give you. He slurps up all the wetness he can until you’re whining at him that it's ‘too much, too much’ and he stands. Gripping your chin between his thumb and pointer finger before kissing you deeply. Guiding his tongue into your mouth just as he had done your pussy.

“I love you.” He whispers against your lips, and your chest blooms, blinking up at him as he looks into your eyes with a calm tenderness like you’re exactly what he always dreamed of - like he lay awake at night as a little boy getting giddy at the thought that one day you might be real, and now you are, more importantly: you’re his, and he’s yours.

“I love you too.” You whisper back, kissing him once more before he’s once again lifting your hands from the dough, which now looks positively mixed from your absent-minded squeezing.

“‘M gonna go shower, baby.” He says softly, stepping back from you just as you turn to look at him.

“You’re gonna deny a woman her fun?” You ask with a raise of your eyebrow, looking down as he re-adjusts his jeans. His hands glancing at your ass before smirking at something you don’t see yet.

“You’ll get your fun later, baby.” He says with an amused smile, before he’s turning and heading upstairs. You sigh and look around the kitchen, laughing brightly as you see your panties dangling on the hook by the back door, how he flung them so far, you’ll never know.

There’s a knock at the door at 5pm sharp, and Joel bounds down the stairs before walking to the door, the creak of it sweet before the sounds of ‘hello!’ and ‘how’s it going, old man?’ ring through the house. You move away from the kitchen to great Dina and Ellie as they walk in, JJ already cooing excitedly in Joel’s arms as he hugs Dina, then Ellie from the side. Smiling widely at the little boy.

“Hey Els, Dina.” You say softly as Ellie gives you a tight squeeze, her mullet brushed neatly, most likely done by Dina. The Ellie you know would let her hair stick in every direction like the wild child she is and always will be.

“Smells good.” Ellie says softly, a hand on the small of Dina’s back before she’s walking to the kitchen to inspect what you’ve made. You see Ollie - JJ’s favorite toy elephant that Ellie won in the Jackson Fair at 19 - hanging out of her back pocket. You smile at the similarities between Joel and Ellie, clear that he raised her in subtle ways. The most obvious being her recent taking for boots, jeans and flannels. She goes over to Joel and JJ after that, crouching behind Joel who’s sat on the carpet by his battle scene, giving him a bear hug from behind.

The afternoon is spent chatting away with Dina, Ellie occasionally chiming in, yet all three of you mainly watch Joel and JJ playing on the living room rug. Your home is filled with the delighted laughter of a child. Ellie joins in soon too, taking on the role of the toy dinosaurs which makes JJ shriek with laughter as they attack Joel’s stuffed bear, then Joel himself.

Everything is warm.

You all eat together. Roasted Venison with salad and bread, cinnamon rolls later that JJ tries to devour whole while sitting on Joel’s lap - similarly to Ellie who sneaks an extra two with Joel in the kitchen when they think their respective partners aren’t looking.

They stay in the small cottage outside which Joel made sure was perfect before their arrival. JJ and Dina fast asleep as you, Ellie and Joel find place on the couch watching some cheesy action movie that Ellie picked. Just like old times when she was a young teenager. She still leans against Joel’s shoulder all the same. Both of his girls in his arms as lights flash across the screen. You glance up at his face once, and smile when seeing he looks as happy as can be.

He deserves this, he deserves to be happy. Even if he might not believe it, you do, and you’ll let hell freeze over before you stop trying to make him happy.

Ellie bids you goodnight before going to curl up in bed with Dina and JJ. Similarly to the way Joel follows up the stairs behind you as you make your way to the bathroom to get ready for bed. Smirking at the twinkle in his eye you see as you pull out his favorite night dress of yours

You’ve just finished up in the bathroom when you walk back into your shared bedroom. Joel shucking off his shirt, leaving him in his boxers. You admire his broad back in the low light of the bedroom. The shadows dusting along his muscles like rivers.

You float up behind him this time, your nose pressed to the line down his back, hands wrapped around his stomach.

“I want one.” You whisper into the quiet night, and it feels like you’re the only two people in the world. He turns to face you - you rest your chin on his chest and look up at him.

“Want what, darlin’?” He whispers softly, his thumb running over the apple of your cheek as he breaths softly. You can hear his heart beating, in sync with yours.

“A baby.” You whisper, and it’s so silent, so quiet. His eyes glimmer and brighten, his breath bated as he looks down at you.

“You want that with me, sweet girl?” He whispers, his voice suddenly hoarse and thick.

“More than anything.”

He kisses you deeply, his hand burying at the hair on the back of your head. Cupping the bowl of your skull so tenderly you can feel his love for you pulse through your veins. Your arms wrap rest on his broad shoulders.

“Me too, baby. Me too.” He whispers, and emotion wraps around your throat, as you can tell it does his when you see the shine in his sweet eyes.

You fall to the bed together, his boxers discarded as he makes quick work of your night gown. Kissing along your breasts until you’re driven so positively crazy you need him to soothe it with his mouth.

Your hand wraps around his shaft and you gaze into his eyes as they flutter slightly at the sensation of your fingers, his own meet you there, guiding him inside you until you both gasp softly at the sensation. He lets his hips push in all the way moments after. Your walls grip around him, the thick, hot - length of him, pushing its way through you until he fits into the space he’s made for himself within you. The noise of your wetness clenching around his girth as he holds himself over you on his strong forearms is nothing short of one of Joel’s favorite erotic sound.

“I love you, I love you so damn much.” He whispers, his large - paw like hand cupping your skull as he grinds his pelvis against your pulsing clit, listening to the soft shk shk shk as his cock twitches inside you, pushing up against that spot inside you that turns you stupid.

“I love you too.” You whimper, barely able to think past the way your eyes are rolling. He hasn’t even thrusted yet. You don’t catch the way he’s gazing down at you, like you’re the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen, like you own every part of his heart and soul, like you might as well be living and breathing within his ribcage : as if you’re the sole thing causing that glow he seems to have.

He starts moving, slow, deep slaps of his hips against yours. Holding you against him as you arch your back slightly, making sure he digs against that spot that drives you wild.

Your fingers dig red lines down his broad back. His head falling forward as he groans so deep and roughly you think you might die from being overly aroused. This man does things to you that you can’t even explain with words, your cries of pleasure seem to communicate it well enough though. Everything is hot and wet and sticky as he whispers into your ear.

“You’re gon’ be such a good mama- fuck darlin’ - take it, yeah-“ he groans into your ear, and your whole body shivers. You clench tighter around him, making him gasp slightly as his hand finds your clit. “Got me achin’ f’you all day baby-“ he whines - whines - into your ear, the soft skin of his balls drags against the curve of your ass, just like his tip dragging through your walls, taking you higher and higher until you can’t even hear the noises you’re making.

He rubs your clit harder, round and round on that pulsing nub until you open your eyes and see his disheveled face. Skin flushed, hair a mess, and his gaze fluttering as he moves his hips against you- his big strong body shining with sweat.

You’re done for.

You dig your heel into the soft flesh of his ass, pulling him closer and locking your legs around him, trapping him deep inside of you.

“Please cum inside me-“ you whimper, gazing into his eyes as he fights with all his might to make sure you cum first, his hand doesn’t let up on your clit, and you clench. “Please let me have it-“

His groan breaks into a soft whine as he drops onto his forearms, face right in front of yours, his nose bumping into your own. You can feel his harsh breaths against your swollen lips.

When you feel him start to fill you up on a slamming thrust, you cum with him, clenching tighter every time you feel one of his thick, sticky ropes shoot inside you while his cock twitches wildly inside you - his moans even sweeter than the sensation.

“Oh god, I love you-“ he whimpers, his moan cracking as you push him impossibly closer with your heel, his hands gripping the sheets next to your head for dear life. He kisses you messily, tiredly as you both lie there - sweaty and catching your breaths.

“I love you.” You whisper back to him, your hand running through his messy hair as you litter kisses along his damp forehead. He nuzzles into you like a big bear still inside you as he softens.

“You need somethin’?” He asks once he’s found his thoughts again, sitting up slightly before you pull him back down with an ‘oof ’.

“Just you.” You whisper back sleepily, your eyes closing shut as you bask in the feeling and love he gives you. You feel a soft kiss to your jaw. His hand splaying over your tummy.

“You got me, baby. Always.”

A/N: Thank you so much for reading ! ♡ please lmk if you enjoyed it and reblog if you did ◡̈

[jjenthusee]

Delivery

Pairing: Jason Todd x Reader

Summary: Lately your grocery list was looking a little small, your cleaning supplies were never running out, and you don’t remember buying these soaps? Who was the one refilling all your stuff?

Word Count: 1.5k

Something was off.

You were writing your list for your weekly shopping errands to refill any soap, groceries, or cleaning supplies running low, but nothing was empty. Half a bottle at best.

It had been bothering you that your large restocks that made you wince at the end of the month looking at the large receipt had minimized to five items at most.

How was this possible?

You didn’t cut down on spending or on using less items, but now that you look at your kitchen, everything was well stocked.

You counted the amount of extra paper towel rolls, the extra unopened cleaning spray that you do not remember buying, and the new bottle of cooking oil in your cabinet.

This was suspicious, very suspicious.

Call yourself the world’s second greatest detective because you narrowed down the culprit restocking your home.

“That red tin man…” You firmly looked over to the window, the shiny, newly replaced lock calling your name. “Let’s see how well your safety measures work.”

You shut the window, doubling the two locks installed by Jason himself, giving you a personal pep talk ensuring that no one is getting in. Not even him, especially him.

With some duct tape, you taped layers over the window seal. As you looked at your work, you thought to yourself…bookcase, yes. A large bookcase.

With heavy breaths, you pushed the bookcase in front of the window.

You were not letting in your not-an-actual-burglar tonight. Now you would wait.

—

Jason was off patrol, his muscles ached, his helmet felt heavy, but he was grappling his way to the small 24-hour mart that he has been cutting the cameras at.

As much as he wouldn’t be shopping with his gear on, the small store was enough for him for a quick shop and the cashier was a tired college student who couldn’t care less about who walked through the sliding doors.

He remembered you were running low on some hand soap in the kitchen and a replacement seasoning salt.

He hummed as he shopped, walking up to the counter to leave extra cash and disappearing before the cashier had time to turn back to give him back his change.

Jason softly landed on the fire escape outside your window. He waited to watch and listen for any movement inside your apartment.

The lights were off and you had to be asleep.

It was perfect for a quick look in, place the items, and go back to his safe house.

He gripped the window, gently trying to lift with the shopping bag on his arm. When it wouldn’t budge, he tried one more time with a little more force.

He put down the plastic bag and noticed you were using the lock he installed. It brought a small smirk to his face at the thought of you utilizing something he made himself.

When he looked closer, he realized the small sliver of light on the edge of the window, blurring from the curtain.

Something was blocking the light, your lights hadn’t been off at all.

As Jason was going to turn on his infrared lenses, his phone vibrated in his pocket.

You: so you were my burglar

Jason held in his laugh, fully piecing the situation together.

Jason: but I haven’t stolen anything

You: so breaking and entering? This is illegal trespassing sir

Jason: glad the lock works, but have to deduct points for the duct tape

You: if it can hold cars together, it can hold my window shut, even better if it keeps vigilantes out of my home

Jason: but I still have your apartment keys

You: yes, jay, you do. So please use my front door cause you are welcome to use it

Jason reread the message. He held his eyes on the word “welcome,” feeling his chest tighten slightly.

Jason: let me change. Be back in 10

Jason felt like an idiot, realizing he had been caught. He pulled an ordinary T-shirt over his head. His matted hair slightly fraying to the movement.

He exhaled in exhaustion as he pulled a jacket over his shoulders and grabbed the plastic bag from earlier.

How was he going to explain?

Hey, sorry, I’ve just been breaking in and refilling your groceries and anything that seems to be running low? I also got you some seasoning salt, you were running out.

Jason smacked the side of his head.

You had to be pissed because you locked the window and clearly barricaded it.

Jason got to your door, somehow, he felt his eye-bags deepen, his frown get stronger, and his hands felt colder.

With reluctance, he knocked three times. You had unlocked the door surprisingly fast, he figured you were waiting right there until he got to your apartment.

“Come in.” You left the door open for Jason, walking back to the kitchen to pour your tea.

Jason noticed how tired you looked. He felt even worse picturing you staying up until he attempted to open your window.

What if he hadn’t come by tonight?

He didn’t move from the door, watching from just outside your apartment.

“I just wanted to bring these over, I’ll leave now.” He tried to run. He needed to leave before you told him to never come back.

“Jay…” You walked over, grabbing onto his sleeve while guiding him inside. He was cold. “Shoes off. Sit on the couch.”

He immediately obeyed not wanting to anger you more.

You followed and sat next to him, your comfy clothes sinking into the cushion.

Jason looked over to the bookcase you clearly moved not long ago.

“I didn’t realize I hired a delivery man. Actually, I’m more embarrassed I finally realized what you’ve been doing.” You sipped at your cup. “How long?”

Jason tilted his head at your question.

“How long, Jay?” You emphasized.

“Five months, 2 weeks.”

“Five months?!”

“I made sure to make it very subtle, but eventually I…got carried away.” Jason admitted, his body stiffening the more honest he became.

“Jay…I’m not mad.” You reached out to grab his hand, kneading warmth into his bruised knuckles. “Really. I just need you to tell me when you do this.”

“But the bookcase and the lock.” Jason subtly relaxed to your touch, but he was far from leaning into the couch comfortably.

“Okay, I was a little mad, but that was because I had only realized that I haven’t properly restocked anything in a while. I looked at my store apps and card history and I had nothing. Just snacks or last-minute purchases.” You sighed, signaling Jason to give you his other hand to warm.

“You were busy…and I thought I could get them for you. I made sure to get the right ones.” Jason watched your hands, refusing to look at you directly.

“I know. You did so well that I took so long to realize. But, I work. I can get these things and you can get me things too, but let me know, please. That would help me out a lot and so I can thank you.”

“But I don’t do it for your words. I like helping you. If it lessens your stress, I’ll do it for you.” Jason reasoned. He was stubbornly defending his actions because you were at the root of his mind.

You were at a loss for words.

“It did help me out a lot, but it also confused me when I had an unlimited bar of soap.” You chuckled.

The sound of your laugh eased Jason. His shoulders sunk a little lower at your tension easing.

“No more frowning.” You rubbed the edges of his mouth and his furrowed brow. “I found out, you owe me dessert tomorrow, and you can get back your window privileges when you let me know when you buy me something.” You yawned.

“I said that I don’t do it to hear you thank me—“ He tried to remind you.

“I know, but I’m tired from trying to catch my burglar and I want to cuddle.” You opened your arms, waiting for Jason to ease into your embrace.

“I’m not a burglar.” Jason argued, taking off his jacket and laying into the couch, grabbing you to lay on top of him. “Did you also take another shift? You look exhausted.”

You rubbed Jason’s eye-bags when you settled comfortably. You were probably matching his raccoon eyes.

“Kiss me and I’ll go to sleep.” You smiled, sleepily touching Jason’s stubble with your hands.

He leaned into your hands, while gripping underneath your chin to bring his face to yours. The sweet touch of your lips was enough to get Jason to fully relax into you, to take in the moment and trust that you weren’t mad at him for what he was doing. It had been with good intentions, but he was just taking a different route.

“Go to bed.” Jason leaned your head onto his chest.

Your eyes got heavy, your breathing was starting to even out, but you had one last idea.

“If you tell me when you buy something, I’ll give you a kiss.” You faded into a deep sleep.

Jason had never forgot to tell you again, he even purposefully bought you extra things you didn’t need to buy.

You eventually had to start setting limits and unlocked your window for your favorite vigilante visits.

[deliwrites]

𝕐𝕠𝕦'𝕣𝕖 𝕆𝕦𝕣𝕤 // Saja Boys & Huntr/x

// DATE // 3rd of July 2025 → 5th of July 2025 // PAIRING //Huntr/x x Fem!Reader x Saja Boys // WARNING // Morally gray behavior, oblivious reader, (friendly)touches, fluff // WORDS // 2.5k+ // SUMMARY // Y/n moves in with the members of Huntr/x, expecting to feel like a guest—but instead finds unexpected comfort, soft affection, and maybe something more. She just doesn’t realize how closely she’s being watched… or how deep their interest really runs.

// Part One // Part Two // Part Three // Part Four //

a/n: I'm really sorry, I have so many scenes in my head that I wanna write that I struggled to make this one. Not a lot happens in this, but I hope you still enjoy it! And I really hope the next chapter will be better!

Meanwhile with the Saja Boys. The five of them are frantically setting up hidden camera’s in every room. Of both the Huntr/x apartment and their own, just one floor below.

They had been at it since the moment the ladies had teleported near Luminara Entertainment. They had no idea how long they would take, but were thankful for Zoey’s updates.

Telling them exactly what they were doing, including helping Y/n through a panic attack, how they had calmed her down and… the toy incident.

That one had the group pausing mid-task, smirks tugging at their lips. Just the thought of her using it… yeah, that had taken up way more time that it should have.

“Okay, I think we’re nearly set,” Romance says finishing setting up the last camera. In the top corner of the guest bedroom hiding in plain sight. On top of the curtain rail. Soon to be Y/n’s new bedroom.

“All that’s left is to check if they actually work,” Jinu says. Baby the most tech savvy of the five of them installed the surveillance app on all their phones. Put a reminder in his own phone to also install it on the girls’ phones later.

It’s to keep her safe, they told themselves.

Not wanting to startle Y/n when she first arrives they go back to their own apartment when Zoey lets them know they are riding the elevator up.

Streaming the surveillance app to their tv so they could all makes sure Y/n was doing alright.

I felt jittery all over. Never in a million years did I expect to ever see Honmoon Tower from the inside. Let alone Huntr/x’s apartment.

And now… I get live here!?

When the elevator doors open they walk out casually. Carrying my bags, not allowing me to carry one of them. While I pretty much tiptoe out the elevator.

There is no shoe rack or anything, but the tiled floor looks to expensive for my cheap sneakers. Toeing them off I hold them with one finger in each heal. Practically sliding on my socks. I stare at all their song and albums on vinyl’s encased in acrylic which hang on the wall to my right in a perfect grid.

Slowly I walk further into the apartment, hiding my excitement. The girls disappear upstairs which has me halting by the spiral staircase that looks like it shouldn’t even work. I would fear each step would break the moment I stepped on the purple glass. Unless it’s not glass?

My eyes widen when my eyes finally catch the floor to ceiling windows that showcase the cityscape, glowing with life in this mid afternoon. Mouth in a perfect ‘o’ shape as I take in the rest of the ground floor of this two story apartment.

There is a open concept kitchen to my left, with beautiful sleek black cabinets with glowing under-counter lights and white marble countertops. A gold rim around the countertop making it look almost too expensive to wanna use. But boy do I want to. All the things I could bake here, I barely register me doing a silent happy dance by jumping from foot to foot for a bit. Think Anna from frozen when she shows Christof his new sled.

“Oh my god, that is adorable,” Abby says an adoring smile on his face. “I’m saving that,” he takes out his phone and saves the last minute of the live feed.

There is a dining table behind the kitchen, a gorgeous glass table with off white chairs, ten to be precise. Why would they need so many chairs? Did they hold meeting here?

The kitchen island has four green velvet like island chairs with black legs to match the cabinets and gold trims like the counter top. But why exactly four?

On the other side of the kitchen sits a gold iron bared shelving unit, floor to ceiling. See through with shelves at random heights. Behind it Two comfy chairs that could easily be a loveseat for two people hidden behind the iron shelves. The chairs the same green as the island chairs. A honey comb like side table in the middle of the two facing chairs. Also, is the floor an aquarium? What is that?

In front of me sat a sunken lounge area. Sofa so long it curled a bit like a snake. Pretty much becoming a half hexagonal shape. It looked incredibly comfortable, covered in a fluffy cream colored fabric. A few pillows in every corner, two blankets. Which is not nearly enough in my opinion. A duck plushy peeking just over the edge. The sight of is had me pick up my shoulders at the randomness of us in a silent chuckle.

Another two of those comfortable looking green chairs faced the couch. A hexagonal coffee table in the center of it with a gigantic blue, yellow and pink rug under it.

And was that… oh my god, a grand piano!

Gorgeous gold accents made of transparent dark blue acrylic. It’s always been a dream of mine to own a grand piano. And while obviously this one isn’t mine. I couldn’t wait to play it.

I’m still standing in the same place when I hear footsteps behind me, but before I can turn around, an arm wraps around my shoulder and I let out a soft gasp. My shoes nearly slipping from my fingers.

“It’s just us,” Rumi says with a soft chuckle. Zoey’s arm curls around my waist, taking my sneakers from me. Turning far enough to place them on one of the steps, managing to stay close keeping her hold on my waist.

Mira leans against the kitchen counter a few steps away, head tilted. “We were wondering if you got lost,” she says, a teasing tone in her voice, a smirk playing on her lips. Though her gaze is soft.

A flush crawls up my cheeks, subconsciously sinking deeper into the other twos hold. Not that they minded. “I didn’t want to overstep-” I mumble cut off by Zoey.

“Gwiyomi,” she says, squeezing my waist gently. “You live here now. You don’t have to hover like a guest.”

“You don’t need our permission just to breathe,” Rumi adds, squeezing my shoulder against her body. The smiles on their faces has my heart doing this - stupid - fluttery thing. Making me mentally shake my head. They are just being friendly, Y/n! Don’t you dare look for something that isn’t there.

Nodding, I let them guide me to the couch where they flop down, letting out a relaxing sigh. I carefully take a seat a little ways away, pulling my legs up. Only then do I notice they’ve changed out of their workout clothes. Rumi and Mira’s hair is down again like it normally would be. And they are all dressed in comfy pajama pants and oversized sweater. They look cozy and dangerously cuddlable.

Zoey’s phone bzzes beside her, she scans her phone before turning to me. What did she see that made her look at me so quickly?

Jinu So you all get into comfy clothes, and leave Y/n in her day outfit?

“Come, let go get you something comfy,” I don’t get the chance to protest as she starts pulling me off the couch. Practically dragging me up the stairs. We pass four doors, two on either side before she opens the third door on our left. “This is your room,” she announces enthusiastically.

Entering the room my feet are met with soft cream colored carpet, a complete contrast to the rug from the living room. The door opens too the left wall of the room, a smile white nightstand about a feet away from the door when it’s fully open.

My gaze is immediately drawn to the bed, centered on the soft lavender walls. The low, plush frame is wrapped in textured fabric that matches the tall headboard - stitched with clean vertical lines that make it look even softer. The pillows are freshly fluffed, dressed in dark lavender cases that match the sheets. At the foot of the bed lies a neatly folded white throw, like it was placed with care. On the far side of the bed stands a second, identical nightstand.

Zoey disappears into a walk-in closet tucked into the right corner of the room, the door cracked open behind her. Directly opposite the bed, a wide desk stretches along the wall, a plush chair tucked neatly in front of it. To the left of the desk is another door. And along the far wall, floor to ceiling windows reach from corner to corner, heavy cream curtains draped to either side.

I follow Zoey into the closet and find her shuffling through my clothes. Did they really have enough time while I gushed over their apartment to unpack my stuff?

“Ooh, this is cute!” she takes out one of my sweaters. A deep green crochet sweater with delicate flowers just below the shoulders across the collarbones. “Put it on!” she watches me with such bright eyes I didn’t dare leave the small space.

With a flush on my cheeks, I slip my fingers beneath the hem of the shirt I’m wearing and tug it over my head. Missing the way her eyes scan my exposed chest, only covered by a soft cup bra. I hold the shirt in front of me like a shield. It’s not like she hasn’t seen a body before, but somehow, being under her stare feels vulnerable.

She takes the sweater off the hanger and gives it to me. Putting it on, a squeal comes from Zoey. “You look so cute in this… Gwiyomi,” she winks.

“Thank you…” I mumble quietly, touched by the compliment, biting my bottom lip. Not used to these kinds of compliments. She returns her attention to the closet and swiftly finds a pair of light gray sweatpants and holds it out to show me.

She doesn’t have to tell me again, I instinctively unbutton my jeans. Shoving them down before nearly toppling over as I struggle to yank my foot out of the leg. But Zoey is there to steady me. Her hands, steady and warm, slipping just beneath the hem of my sweater to hold my waist.

Her fingers press into my skin gently but it’s the way she lingers that sends my brain spiraling. She's just keeping me balanced. That’s all. That’s what I tell myself as my heart does this traitorous stutter in my chest. Once I’m free from the jeans, I straighten up, cheeks burning.

“Here, let me help you,” Zoey crouches before me. Rolling up the legs. “Hold my shoulders.”

“I- okay…” I rest my hands on her shoulders, tentative, feeling how solid she is beneath my fingers. She guides me into the pants with such easy confidence I don’t know whether to feel grateful… or mildly humiliated. I mean, I can dress myself. But I’m not exactly in a rush to stop her, either.

Her hands glide over my skin as she pulls up the sweatpants. Fingers brushing along my thighs, then lingering on my ass for just a bit too long but it’s just an innocent touch. Right?

“Oh, and here,” she quickly sets my slippers in front of me. Letting me toe them on.

“Thank you, Zoey,” I murmur.

“Of course, gwiyomi,” my heart continues to flutter at the nickname, but I mentally shake my head. This is the third time she’s called me cutie. Maybe she just likes pet names? “Let’s go back down,” she takes my hand as she starts tugging me out of the room.

“Oh, wait, where does that door go?” I quickly ask before we can exit my new room. She hmm’s stopping in her tracks, looking at the door on the left side of the desk.

“That is your bathroom,” she grins before she continues to pull me along. Her hand holding mine like we’ve always done this. “When we first moved in we decided it wasn’t fair for either of us to have the ensuite,” she explains while we walk. “So we share the bigger bathroom.”

“But- how is it fair that I get it?” I ask, pressing my free hand to my chest like I was even less worthy of the ensuite myself.

“What’s not fair?” a male voice surprises me, finding Abby in the kitchen. Knife in hand while he looks our way with a raised brow.

“Oh,” Zoey waves a hand. “She thinks she doesn’t deserve the ensuite.”

“Why would you not deserve the ensuite?” It’s Romance, stood by the double stove.

“I- well, I-” unable to think of a reason I just stop talking. Tugging at the hem of sweater, self conscious of the small gap between my sweater and sweatpants that shows a sliver of my skin.

“This is a cute sweater,” It’s like Jinu appears out of thin air beside me. His fingers tracing the flowers on my collarbones.

“Oh,” a flush covers my cheeks. Will there ever be a moment with them where I won’t turn red like a tomato? “Thank you,” I nod once almost like I’m bowing to him in thanks. Jinu smiles before joining Abby and Romance in the kitchen. Zoey takes my hand again, guiding me back to the couch.

There sit Mystery and Baby like they come here often. Zoey tugs me down to sit between her and Baby, her thigh brushing against mine. I try not to let my feet rest against Baby. But he just sends me a smile with a look I can’t quite decipher. His hands find my ankles shifting my feet so the balls of them rest against his thigh.

I look between all of them, one question bouncing around in my head. “Do you guys visit each other often?” my question is sudden. I don’t mean for it to sound nosy but my curiosity gets the better of me.

“More often than you might think,” Abby chuckles.

If that is what it takes for them to spend as much time with Y/n as possible. Then meet up they would. Plus it would help with keeping each other updated if they were all there to see what happens with Y/n.

“We try to eat together at least a few times a week,” Mira confirms with a soft nod.

“Today, it’s our turn to cook,” Mystery says from the other side of Baby. “But, the girls told us you would be here, so we figured it was better for you if we came up.”

“Instead of making you come down to ours when you haven’t even settled in yet,” Baby adds, hand squeezing my ankle gently.

“You… didn’t have to include me,” I say, wide eyed. “You guys are friends-” a look unnoticed by Y/n is shared between the eight. “-I’m just a random person. I could have cooked for myself.”

“Nonsense,” Romance replies instantly. “Plus you deserve a little comfort after what happened today.”

“And if the girls are ever out, and you need something,” Jinu starts. “We will be at your service,” he winks voice a little deeper than normal.

Okay, what is happening to this heart of mine? Quiet down, they are JUST being friendly.

// Part One // Part Two // Part Three // Part Four //

Taglist:

@strayharmony943 @ghostlyworld @zariahthewitch @ateezswonderland @bunnytea10 @levifiance @katzline @ch1cky-093 @justanindiangirl12 @mxvoid26 @m-1mi @raineandcl0uds @mel3484 @apelepikozume @kangsae-byeokfan @zero-jpg @planetpearlsworld @sylus-h3ll @sy1ock @nonetheartist @fancyhawk45 @mazzk1ng @furblrwurblr @j3lsaa @ikykwkleeknowwww @ffcfffr @faerie-soirxx @latisthegenderfluidwannabealone @osball @uniquecutie-puffs @puppyminnnie @nagithe5th @fangsbunny @prettylittlelavvy @a-redharlequin @2emotionallyunstable @nerdsconquerall @animegamerfox @starmee-lodurrson @hornehlittleweeblet2 @rosapops2666 @pandafuriosa60 @snowy-violet @celesteelysia @myfturn @silver--47 @haloangelfics @itsberrydreemurstuff @ellie-x0xo @evemeri @misdollface @bethleeham @sharkers00 @nightdark-dreamdark @estellafake @hoodiepandaninja16 @tenaciouskittenpuff @komataru @any-maybe @moobiee @aurorab-0-realis

I hope everyone got tagged correctly!

[indulgentdaydream]

protective!jason hcs or blurb 🥰

Ok so I kinda touched on these in my latest fic but anyways i WILL elaborate bc those were just background

We all know that man is touch starved. We ALL know it.

We also all know he’s hesitant with sharing touch

It’s only once you both have been dating for a bit already, maybe three months in, that he really starts to show his protectiveness through his touch

Or at least when you notice it

He’s always at least holding your hand as you guys walk around Gotham. Depending on exactly whereabouts in Gotham is when he changes whether he’s between you and the road, or you and the alleyways.

You watched him change it up one time halfway through your shared walk, him letting go of your left hand, stepping behind you and around to grab your right instead.

“Oh? So you want me to get hit by a car and die?”

Jason only keeps his eyes on the passing buildings and the ones coming up, “The chance of that is much lower than somebody trying to mug you in this area, love.”

One day you’re both out at the bar together. He’s sitting on a stool behind you as you babble to oke of yours friends.

From over their shoulder, you see a man approaching, but don’t think anything of it.

Suddenly, you see the man stop in his tracks, freezing. You glance over at him. He looks terrified. He glances at you, his original target, then behind you again. He spins on his heel and walks back the way he came.

You look behind you, feeling Jason’s hand still resting on your hip. You almost feel a little scared yourself, seeing that killer glare that Jason’s pointing at the guy’s back.

He switches immediately the second he looks down to you, a soft smile and kind eyes, not a hint of the previous bloodlust a mere second ago. “What?” He asks, like watching his expression change wasn’t the biggest turn on in the world.

You’re sitting in your apartment at your desk typing away on your laptop. You’re trying to file your taxes, and Jason had come over to help you with it (surprisingly he knows how even though he’s still legally dead at this point and hasn’t had to pay any taxes. Ever.)

He had stood and was wondering around your room a bit while he waited for you to fill the next part out. You can hear shuffling, but you’re too focused to tune into it.

“Jay? What does this line mean?”

Jason grunts for a moment and you hear your window slide open.

You turn back around, “Jay?”

“One second.” He shuts your window again. You watch as he fiddles with the lock before easily sliding the window back open. He throws his hands in the air and looks at you. “How long have you lived here?”

You shrug, confused, “You helped me move in.”

Jason waves his hand through the air, “When?”

“Almost a year? Last November.”

Jason fiddles with the window again, slamming it back down, “This lock doesn’t work. You been sleeping in here and anyone could’ve just broken in?”

You shrug again, “I didn’t know it was broken! I don’t really lock my window often.”

Jason looks like he almost broke his neck by how fast his head whipped back to you, “You don’t lock your window????”

He finishes your taxes for you before he leaves, saying he’ll be back. Within the hour he’s knocking on your door again, a duffle bag in hand full of power tools, screws, and different assortments of heavy duty locks. He spends the rest of the night installing them.

A new one on your bedroom window that actually consisted of two different locks. A similar two on your kitchen window. Another three on your bedroom door itself. Then four on your front door.

As he leaned over your kitchen sink, screwing in the lock and blocking your way as you tried to make you both dinner.

“Is this really necessary?”

“I’m not having you practically open to every bad thing the city has to offer, love.”

“Then how are you going to come in through my window now?”

“I’ll learn to knock.”

That’s all I can think of right now okay byeee

[kisakis-boyfriend]

Like Ships in the Night…On a Train… (BSD version part 1)

Author's Note: Got horny. Thought about one of my favorite scenarios. Bon appetit 👍 Other installments are already in the works for different series. :3

Pairings: Sigma, Dazai, & Chuuya x male reader (separately)

Warnings: Male!reader, dom/top!reader, sub/bottom!characters, trans Sigma, chikan, grinding, groping, fingering (Sigma), nipple play (Chuuya)

Sigma

Why is this happening to him?! He's read the news headlines about creeps groping people on trains, sure, but he never imagined he'd be on the receiving end of that!

Sigma feels helpless as the mystery man hooks one arm around his waist, locking him in this position like a caged bird. Soon, he feels a touch on his hip, sliding down to his plush thighs as he's groped right here and now — standing in front of the train wall with his hands bracing himself against it.

Panic floods in as the stranger grabs his crotch, rubbing two fingers over his slit — you both realize something in this moment; Sigma realizes that his secret may not be safe anymore, and the dangers that come with that, while you realize that you can touch this guy more discreetly like this.

Your fingers make quick work of his pants, opening them up just enough to reach inside and touch his pussy again. Despite the fact that your victim is shaking, he's already a bit wet before you're even inside. You tease him over his underwear for a second, then dive even deeper and finally touch his bare pussy.

With all of his remaining willpower, Sigma whispers a quiet plea for you to stop, and you can practically hear the tears welling in his eyes. You ignore him, of course, already sinking between his folds and groaning at the wetness oozing out just from that.

A stranger is fingering his cunt on public transit, and no one else seems to notice. Sigma can only pray that you stop before things escalate, or before you realize he's a trans man…maybe his long hair fooled you into thinking he's a girl?

That line of thought is shattered as Sigma presses his thighs together, biting back a squeal as you fingerfuck him so rough that he squirts a little, messing up his clothes as a result. As he cums, you lean closer to his ear and whisper a “Good boy~” before you readjust his clothing for him and disappear, presumably exiting the train.

You left the man as a panting, confused mess in his little corner. Left to wonder who violated him in an almost gentle way, compared to all of the horror stories Sigma read about. His pussy was still wet, and he swears that he didn't enjoy that…but the memory won't stop replaying in his mind as he lay in bed, squeezing his thighs together once again…dripping…aching…moaning…

Dazai

How bold do you have to be to think you could get away with this? Honestly, don't you recognize the man that you're attempting to grope? Do you really think there won't be consequences?

Well, ok, hear him out… You're not being rough right now — if anything, you're actually touching Dazai rather gently. Hands caress his sides, hidden by his large trench coat, sliding across his clothed abdomen almost romantically. The most you've done so far is rub his hips, not even trying to go for anything more private (yet).

What's the harm in letting this go on, seeing just where this will lead? Dazai's pretty strong, not a big muscle man, but strong enough to hold his own when need be. If things escalate too much, or he feels unsafe, he can simply reveal who he is and threaten to call the cops on you. But for now, he'll just let this play out.

You take a step closer, pushing Dazai further against the window, and he seizes the opportunity to reveal your identity in the reflection…except your face is buried in the back of his neck so he can't actually see who you are…

Dazai feels your warm breath tickling his skin, and he can feel you… wait, are you sniffing him? Really? What a creep, smelling some stranger while you're touching him. Jeez.

That's not the only thing Dazai notices though — he also feels what he assumes to be your hard-on poking his ass now that you're hugging his body tightly. You begin to move, and this is when Dazai should stop you…but he can't deny how…nice…this all feels. Especially when you reach forward and grab his hand, clasping his with yours in a strangely soft display–

Seriously, what a depraved, obsessive, sad creep you must be to hold a stranger's hand while you're smelling them and humping them on a public train. That's just not normal, dude.

There's not much more time to question anything, as you grind against Dazai's ass until your movements stutter, then eventually stop altogether. And he can guess by your heavy breathing that you just creamed your pants without ever truly touching your victim.

'How sad. That guy could easily get off by humping another guy on the train — who knows what dirty fantasies were running through his mind to make him cum like that.' Dazai thinks, stroking himself in the shower while he pictures your fat package gliding in between his cheeks again.

Chuuya

Honestly, Chuuya surprised himself when some strange man came up behind him and trapped him in the corner of the train and he didn't say a word of protest. Perhaps the shock was what prevented his usual reactions?

Shocked at how bold you were for grabbing a Port Mafia executive by the hips and forcing his ass to meet the tent in your pants, that is. Do you really think this is going to end well? Are you just so stupid that you have no idea who Chuuya is, and how easy it would be for him to use his special ability to pin you to the floor and knock your teeth out?

You're either stupid or desperate, or maybe both, but Chuuya can't think about that too much when you're already humping him so boldly. Sure, you're somewhat hidden in the corner, but does no one pay attention to the obvious motions?

Not only are you grinding against him so hard that he's forced to his tiptoes, you're untucking his shirt from his pants and sliding your hands underneath like it's totally normal! Quickly finding his nipples and toying with them so roughly that Chuuya has to cover his mouth to remain quiet.

His smaller body jerks with your every thrust, forced to submit to this gross act of depravity or else everyone on the train will find out that Chuuya Nakahara is a public use slut. His reputation would be destroyed!

So, he lets you have your way with him — thrusting your clothed erection against the curve of Chuuya's ass until you cum, grunting right into his ear — and then a familiar chime signals the opening of the train doors, and you exit, leaving the little guy high and dry and completely disheveled as his cock leaks inside of his boxers.

Now, a Port Mafia executive doesn't have any need to use public transport — he could easily use a private car or even a fucking helicopter if he wanted to — but, Chuuya finds himself taking the same train at the same time again tomorrow. This time, he's already standing in that corner, facing the wall to conceal his hard, throbbing cock, and to advertise himself as vulnerable prey.

[multi-fandom-imagine]

hellooooo love you work!! may i request another installment of the “fave places” series with antinous? 👀 (in no way condone his actions in hold them down but his vocals and visuals make him FINE ASFFFFF)

-💜⚡️ (Electra anon)

A/n: Of course

Au! Where Antinous is married to the reader and was never a Suitor.

1. The Temple Ruins at Dusk

The gods had abandoned this place centuries ago. Ivy crept across crumbling stone, statues worn down to faceless shapes, their stories long forgotten. But to Antinous, this ruin wasn’t dead—it was sacred. Because this was where he first claimed you as his. Where he knelt between your legs on cracked marble and swore vows not even Olympus could break.

You’re there again tonight, dusk bleeding across the sky in deep purples and fading golds. He lays out a blanket, but you both know you won’t stay on it. You sit on a smooth slab of stone, legs draped over his lap, and he kisses you like time doesn’t exist—slow, reverent, hands stroking your thighs like you’re a miracle he doesn’t deserve.

“I don’t care if the gods see,” he murmurs, voice low, brushing his mouth over your jaw. “Let them watch. Let them envy.”

He lays you back, dress hiked up to your hips, and slides down your body with that dark hunger in his eyes. His tongue finds you easily, licking slowly, purposefully, while his fingers keep you wide open. He doesn’t rush. He wants to make you cry out, to echo through the empty temple and leave a new legend in your wake. When he finally thrusts into you—hard, deep, perfect—you dig your nails into his back and swear you see stars behind your eyes. His name on your lips becomes the prayer that breathes life back into the ruin.

2. The Royal Baths (When No One’s Watching)

You’d already soaked for a while, the scent of jasmine in the air and flower petals floating lazily around your shoulders. You didn’t hear him enter—but you felt him. The way the air shifted. The way your skin prickled with anticipation.

Antinous undressed slowly, watching you the whole time. Like a man who had already claimed the world but only ever wanted one thing. You.

He steps into the water, curls an arm around your waist, and pulls you flush against his chest. His voice rumbles in your ear, low and hot. “I dreamed about this last night. Woke up hard. Thought about you with your legs open and your lips saying my name.”

His fingers drift under the water, teasing between your thighs. He presses two fingers in, slow and firm, his thumb circling your clit while his other hand holds your neck. He brings you to the edge and stops—again and again—until your pleas echo off the tile walls.

Then, finally, he presses you against the smooth edge of the bath and enters you from behind, water splashing around your hips. He fucks you slow and possessive, murmuring things in Ancient Greek you barely understand—except for your name. That one he says like a vow.

When you both come, the water goes still. But you stay wrapped in each other, and he kisses your shoulder like he’s trying to burn the moment into time itself.

3. The Throne Room—After Hours

It was late. The moonlight filtered through high glass windows, silvering the marble floor. The guards were dismissed. The council gone. And there you were—sitting in his throne, draped in one of his silk robes and nothing else, legs crossed, chin raised like the queen you were.

Antinous stops in the doorway, heart thudding like war drums.

“You trying to kill me?” he says, voice ragged. You only smile and open your legs.

He crosses the room in seconds. His hands are rough as they push the robe open, exposing your bare skin to the cold air and his heated stare. “You want to rule?” he growls, yanking you up and bending you over the armrest. “Then I’ll show you what power feels like.”

He slides into you with one brutal thrust, one hand in your hair, the other gripping your hip hard enough to bruise. The throne creaks beneath you with every thrust. He fucks you like he’s staking his claim again—like the throne means nothing if you’re not beneath him, moaning, trembling, undone.

When you come, it’s loud. Filthy. Beautiful. And he follows, teeth sinking into your shoulder as he spills inside you, breathless. Afterward, he sits with you in his lap, robe tangled around you both.

“You’re the only crown I care about,” he whispers, pressing his forehead to yours.

4. On the Beach Beneath a Storm

The sky is split open. Thunder cracks like war drums in the distance, lightning flashing across the horizon. The sea is restless—frothing, crashing—like it can sense what’s about to happen.

You were supposed to be walking the shoreline barefoot, hand in hand with Antinous, enjoying the calm before the storm. But he’s never been good at resisting you. Not when your dress clings wet to your thighs. Not when your hair sticks to your neck and your eyes dare him.

You’re pinned against a jagged rock before you can say a word. Rain pours down in sheets, soaking you to the skin as he yanks your dress up and tears your underthings aside. His hands are freezing. His mouth is fire. He kisses you like he’s claiming land—messy, hungry, desperate.

When he thrusts into you, you cry out, and it’s lost to the wind. His fingers dig into your hips, the rhythm brutal, primal. “You think the sea can take you?” he growls against your throat. “I am the storm, wife. And you are mine.”

You come hard, legs shaking, the sky flashing white as you unravel around him. He finishes with a guttural moan, forehead to yours, both of you panting like beasts beneath the wrath of the gods.

5. In the Gardens, Hidden in the Blossoms

The royal gardens are supposed to be peaceful—a place for meditation, for prayer, for diplomacy. But not when Antinous finds you barefoot in the lavender, humming softly, skin kissed by the sun.

He’s behind you in an instant, his body pressed tight to your back, one hand sliding up to cup your breast. “You think I won’t take you here?” he whispers against your ear, teeth grazing. “Where anyone could see you coming for me?”

He lays you down in a bed of wildflowers, fingers parting your thighs like he’s unwrapping something divine. His mouth finds your cunt, and he feasts—slow and deliberate, your taste coating his tongue as you writhe beneath him.

When he finally gives in to the ache in his cock, he enters you in one deep, possessive thrust. The flowers are crushed beneath you. Bees buzz lazily nearby. And Antinous fucks you like the garden itself was made to hold your screams.

He doesn’t pull out. Doesn’t care. He kisses you with dirt on his knees and flower petals tangled in your hair.

6. On the Ship Deck Under the Stars

Nights at sea are quiet—except when you sneak up to the deck, dressed in nothing but one of his loose linen tunics. The air is thick with salt and secrecy, and Antinous is already waiting for you by the mast.

“You’re going to be the death of me,” he says with a smirk, walking toward you like a man possessed.

You barely have time to respond before he’s lifting you, your back pressed to the mast, legs wrapping around his waist. He thrusts into you with a groan, one arm locked around your lower back, the other braced against the wood. The stars above are bright and infinite—but his eyes are darker, wilder.

You move together in perfect silence, hips rolling, breath catching. Only the creak of the ship and your stifled moans break the stillness. He whispers your name like a vow, each thrust carving it into the night.

When you both come, it’s like a wave crashing—violent, beautiful, and endless.

7. In His War Tent the Night Before Battle

The camp is tense. Soldiers whisper. Blades are sharpened. And Antinous is pacing like a caged lion—until you enter the tent, wearing nothing but his tunic, your bare legs glowing in the candlelight.

He stops cold.

“You shouldn’t be here,” he says, but his eyes devour you.

You cross to him slowly, slipping the tunic off your shoulders, baring yourself completely. “You might die tomorrow. I’m not letting you go into battle without this.”

He doesn’t speak again. He just kisses you—desperate, bruising—and lays you down across the map table. Scrolls scatter. Strategy forgotten. His armor is still half-on as he ruts into you with wild, frenzied thrusts.

He grips your throat lightly, not to hurt—but to feel your pulse. To know you’re real.

When he comes, it’s with your name on his lips, not the gods’. Not glory. Just you.

And when he wakes before dawn, sword at his side, your scent still clings to his skin like armor.

8. In the Underworld, When He Thought He Lost You

(Alt-scene / high angst + filth combo)

You died. Or so he thought. For three days, Antinous tore apart half the realm trying to find a way to cross into the Underworld. When he finally does, and he sees you—alive, radiant, just out of reach—he falls to his knees.

“Come back with me,” he begs, voice raw. “Or I’ll burn the world to stay here.”

When you fall into his arms, he takes you to the cold stone floor of Hades’ domain, needing to feel your skin, your breath, your life.

He fucks you like a man resurrected—rough, messy, weeping against your throat. His tears mix with the sweat between your bodies, and every thrust is a vow never to let go again. “You’re mine. No gods. No death. No fate can take you.”

And this time, when he walks back into the light, he does it with you.

[deansbeer]

full of surprises ・ VHACKER. ៸៸៸ 𝐍𝐀𝐕𝐈𝐆𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍 ! ♡ pinned library

eighteen plus. minors do NOT interact.

SYNOPSIS. helping vinnie in the garage, your knowledge, and skills with cars over the years come to surface, unveiling a secret you'd kept hidden.

WARNING(S). fluff | smut | fem!reader | explicit language | thigh riding | fingering | breeding kink.

KARI NOTES. while i was scrolling through pinterest, i fell down a rabbit hole of photos of vinnie working on cars.

the soft clanking and muttered curses drifting from the garage pull you away from your mindless scrolling on your phone. you glance at the clock, noticing it's past midnight already. vinnie told you he'd be done working on his car by now but it seems he's hit another snag in repairs.

sighing, you slide off the couch and pad down the hallway. vinnie's bent over the open hood distractedly turning a wrench, smears of grease decorating his gray tank top and forearms in a way that makes your heart flutter. you admire his toned physique for a moment, always loving when he gets hands on.

"any luck, babe?" you ask softly, not wanting to startle him. vinnie jerks up with a grimace, rubbing the back of his neck. "ah, no not yet. this damn fuel pump is being a real pain in my ass. i've replaced every other part but it just won't prime right."

he kicks the tire in frustration earning a soft chuckle from you. striding over, you stand on your tiptoes to peer into the engine compartment. years spent helping your dad under the hoods of countless vehicles have given you more than a casual understanding.

"mind if i take a look?" you inquire, already sliding some gloves from the table beside you. vinnie gapes at you in disbelief. "i had no idea you knew about cars, babe," disbelief colors his tone but you can also detect a hint of thrill at discovering another layer to you.

"my dad always said it's a good skill for any woman to have. now scoot over, let me see what's going on." vinnie readily obliges, interest overtaking his previous annoyance as you step into his place. running an analytical eye, you soon spot the issue.

"ah, there's your problem. the fuel filter is badly clogged, no wonder it can't draw fuel properly. just needs a replacement, should clear it right up." you declare confidently, removing the filter to examine. vinnie peers over your shoulder in amazement.

"damn baby, you never cease to surprise me. i'm seriously so impressed right now, you've got me feeling all kinds of things." he purrs against your ear, hands sliding around your waist from behind. a shiver runs down your spine at his breath on your skin but you maintain focus, humming thoughtfully.

"flattery will get you everywhere mister, now hand me the socket wrench so i can get this fixed," you demand gently, holding a hand back expectantly. vinnie hurriedly passes you the tool, enthralled by your take-charge demeanor. within minutes the new filter is installed and you're reassembling the compartment.

flicking your gloves away, you turn to face vinnie's adoring gaze with a smile. "alright big man, give her a start, and let's see if that did the trick." he grins, pressing a swift kiss to your lips in thanks before jumping into the driver's seat.

the cars roars to life on the first try, rumbling smoothly without any hiccups. vinnie whoops loudly, leaning out the window with glee. "fuck baby, you're amazing! that was the perfect fix. come here, i gotta give you a proper reward."

giggling, you allow vinnie to tug you into his lap as he's sat in the driver's seat. his mouth latches onto your neck desperately, hands roaming your sides. "i'm so turned on by how smart and skilled you are. drives me crazy knowing you could probably rebuild this engine from scratch if you wanted," he growls between kisses.

heat pools low in your belly at his adoring praise. you slide his hands up under your shirt, craving his touch. "mhm, maybe i will someday just to watch you swoon. but for now..." twisting, you capture vinnie's lips hungrily.

he sighs into the kiss, deepening it instantly as his tongue delves between your parted lips. you rock against his firm thigh. vinnie groans, hands gripping your hips to guide your movements.

"fuck, i need you so bad. let's take this inside, i wanna worship your perfect body properly." he breathes heavily, pupils blown wide with want. you nod eagerly, already scrambling from his lap toward the house. vinnie follows, hastily towing you the rest of the way by your wrist.

as soon as the bedroom door clicks shut he's pinning you against it feverishly. your shirt disappears followed by his as he assaults your collarbone with rough kisses and nips. a gasp escapes your throat, grabbing handfuls of his hair to encourage the delicious treatment.

vinnie hikes your legs around his waist, lifting as if you weigh nothing at all. the hard line of his erection presses relentlessly against your core through the multiple layers still separating you, seeking friction. you grind down needily, desperate for more contact.

"slow down, baby, 'm not going anywhere," he pants, carrying you to the bed and laying you out like a feast. vinnie quickly divests the rest of your clothing, gazing in awe at your naked form beneath him.

"so perfect, and all mine." his worshipping words steal your breath, stomach clenching deliciously. when his mouth latches onto a pert nipple to suckle, you cry out loudly at the exquisite sensation.

vinnie takes his time lavishing each breast and curve of your body with wet kisses and love bites, mapping every sensitive spot until you're writhing and begging for more. finally his fingers dip to your dripping core, circling your swollen clit teasingly.

"fuck vinnie!" you babble, back arching off the mattress at his feather light touches. he chuckles darkly, sinking two digits into your core. "you take my fingers so well baby. bet you'll feel even better wrapped around my cock though, what do you think?"

a choked moan is your only response, eyes rolling back as he pumps his fingers leisurely. vinnie slowly adds a third, stretching your entrance deliciously full. his thumb rolls firm circles over your clit in time, driving you to the edge at an agonizing pace.

just as your orgasm begins to crest, he removes his hand entirely leaving you keening. vinnie stands to remove the last of his clothing, hard length jutting proudly from his slender hips. the sight alone could make you cum but he hasn't given permission yet.

crawling back over you, vinnie slots his cock against your dripping entrance and leans down to claim your mouth in a filthy kiss. "gonna make you feel so good, fuck you senseless until you can't remember your name. that's what you want isn't it?"

you whimper desperately, nodding fervently against his lips. "please, i want to feel you so deep inside me. use me as rough as you like, i'm all yours baby." his restraint snaps, and with one powerful thrust, he's fully seated to the hilt within your clenching heat.

you cry out loudly at the relentless stretch, walls spasming deliciously around his girth. vinnie groans deeply, staying locked in place to adjust before beginning a punishing rhythm of hard, deep strokes. his hips snap violently, balls slapping your swollen flesh with each impact.

all you can do is hold on for dear life, nails raking down his sweat slicked back as he fucks you into oblivion. vinnie pistons his hips with animalistic drives, pounding directly into your most sensitive spots unerringly. a constant litany of filthy praises tumble from his pretty lips, only spurring you nearer the edge.

"fuck you look gorgeous taking my cock sweet girl, your pussy was made for me i swear. gonna fill you up, have your belly swollen with my babies, you want that, baby? want me to come inside you while i fuck my name out of that beautiful mouth?"

the depraved imagery plunges you over at last, walls constricting vinnie's member in a vice grip. your orgasm tears through you with ruthless intensity, eyes rolling back as you scream his name. he chases his own release, fucking you through the aftershocks until spilling deep within your quivering channel with a guttural groan.

collapsing together in a sweaty heap, you trade sloppy kisses and whispered 'i love you's' while coming down from ecstasy. vinnie curls around your sated form protectively, pressing sweet affection into any skin he can reach.

"you never cease to amaze me, sweetheart. i love how full of surprises you are, constantly keeping me on my toes. and damn do i love when you take charge like that, so fucking hot." he sighs contentedly, nuzzling your hair.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Steadfast 6

Warnings: non/dubcon, power imbalance, obsession, and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Character: King!Bucky Barnes (Medieval AU)

A Knights, Kings, and Knaves Story

Summary: you serve Duke Rogers, but when his friend, the king, takes an interest, you find your work in turmoil.

Note: I’ve wanted to do medieval drabbles for years. I bit the bullet and now we’re all doomed. I was torn on whether to make this one Stucky however… I think Steve deserves a wifey in his own installment.

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging ❤️

The king slows as a structure rises before you. A house with banners hung on the stucco wall. The windows are open to the roiling heat that has your cloaks rolled up with the saddle bags. Your bodies boil with the warmth rippling off the puffing horse's coat.

Figures emerge at your approach, alerted by the heavy clop of hooves. They wear colourful robes, the fabric thin enough that the sun does not affect them. You could turn to dust in the rippling air.

The king slides down and you stay abreast as he leads the horse. He greets the people with an open palm. They are wary but not unwelcoming.

"Where do you fare from?" A tall woman with grey ringlets demands.

"Far and away. But I come invited." He reaches to the purse on his belt. The one you think's been rubbing on you for a while. "A friend of mine gave me this."

He holds up a medallion. A man steps closer and puts out his hand. The king presses it into his palm.

"There is coin in my purse too," King Bucky declares. "I hope to find hospitality on our way to the capital."

"It isn't far," the woman says as others emerge from the houses. Skinny adolescents with beads in their hair. You can't help but admire the intricacy of their braids. "Not a half-days ride."

"Yes, it wouldn't be," the king agrees. "But I cannot appear as I am." He takes out coins from his purse. "And I would ask a favour. A messenger to be sent. I would call for a familiar face."

"You ask a lot," the lady girds.

"I will pay more than I ask. Be it coin or otherwise." He intones.

You stay on the horse, slumped and sweaty.

"The woman looks worn," she says. "She needs rest."

"She does," the king assures. "You will treat her kindly."

The man hands back the medallion, "and you will let King T'Challa know that we did." He nears the horse and takes the reins. "I am Mihe. My wife, Alle. And our children; Uma, Ebomoh, and Kwobo."

"Very honoured to make your acquaintance. This is Pip, she calls me Poppet."

The woman narrows her eyes. "Yes, welcome. You must be hungry."

"Painfully," King Bucky turns and helps you down. "You will eat," he guides you to the woman. "And I will speak with Mihe about this message."

"Yes...Poppet," you nearly slip. He lets you go and you turn to Alle.

"Come," she waves you on, "you would require some robes, as well. Uma, you will find some."

You are ushered into the house where it is cooler. She sits you on a bench and sifts through a chest. She takes a bowl and fills it from a large pot on a table.

"Thank you," you say quietly.

"Your man takes care. He looks at you with concern. We would not let him down."

"My... oh..." you don't argue. It is better not to say too much. That's what the king bid.

"Eat," she hands you the bowl. You accept it with another gratitude. You are rather starving.

👑

Alle and her daughters help you bathe. You are thankful for the luxury. Like at home, you find a river and they give you oils to rub into your skin. They smell rich and ease the dryness of your flesh.

You pull on the silken robes they gave you. You cannot stop thanking them. They are generous.

You walk back to their house as the sun meets its apex. You've been there two days already. You expect you will leave soon.

The king awaits you. He has a stick in hand as he bats away the one in Kwobo's. He has been sparring with the boy on and off. You can see he holds back.

"Very good," the king praises his adversary. "You will be a great warrior."

The king wears lighter clothes as well, draped from one shoulder across his chest and swept around his waist. He still wears his stained boots and the chain around his neck bearing a wolf's tooth.

"Like his father," Alle assures.

As if her words have power, a horn blows and draws your attention. Mihe waves the horn from the distance, not alone as he left you. There is another ride.

"He returns," Alle puts her hands together. "As if he has heard me longing for him."

You turn and watch them approach. King Bucky stands near, the end of his stick pushed into the dirt. You recognise the duke as he comes near. He wears a doublet despite the heat.

Duke Rogers dismounts and his hair falls forward in his face. He flicks it away with a sigh. He marches up to meet his king.

"Your highness."

"Poppet," the king grins. Alle and her daughters share a look.

Rogers pauses and tilts his head at you. "Pip, is that you?"

"My lord," you bow your head. "It is good to see you well."

"As you," he agrees and his eyes dart back to the king. "Why do you call me here? You are needed in the capital."

The king laughs, "I am on my way."

Rogers is not amused. You know the look well.

"The others await you."

"The others can keep waiting. I need only you." The king insists.

"What are you up to?" Rogers growls.

The king's cheeks dimple bigger. "Well, you would bear witness to my union and you will be sure that me and my new bride have our grand entrance."

You blink as the king takes your hand in his. Your brow furrows as your eyes meet the Duke's. His mouth falls open.

"Bucky," he forgets all pretense. "No."

The king scoffs. "You will have the paperwork drawn up. I hardly doubt anyone would recognise dear Pip. You hardly did."

"Why?" the duke pinches the bridge of his nose.

"Wouldn't you say I'm past due?" The king brings your knuckles up to kiss them as you stand in shock. Certainly, he is only teasing his friend as he always does.

[emmiesoverthemoon]

AISLE BE DAMNED

two: closer than my comfort allows

wc: 6.3k ss count: 8 < previous | navigation | next >

friday, 2:50pm

the florist studio is tucked into the edge of the city like it belongs somewhere else entirely— glass walls half-swallowed by ivy, a hand-painted sign that reads blush & thistle, and the thick, heady perfume of fresh blooms rolling out onto the street like it’s trying to pull you in.

you’re early for once, as opposed to being just on time.

you stand just outside the doorway, one hand shading your eyes from the afternoon sun as you scan the carefully curated front window: a spiraling bouquet of peonies the color of spilled champagne, ranunculus with edges kissed in soft coral, and something vaguely poetic and wispy in cream. the arrangement is asymmetrical in the way only the most meticulous hands can make look effortless.

it smells like the kind of life you never admit to wanting.

you close your eyes for a breath, let it catch at the back of your throat. it already smells like the wedding. like the version of it you can see in your head— soft, decadent, wild around the edges but structured just enough to hold its shape. like magic, but orderly.

a place where nothing gets dropped. where the timeline bends without breaking. where everything just works.

“i knew you being early as a concept was real,” comes a voice behind you. dry. familiar. amused. “but seeing it in person? shocking.”

you turn without even flinching.

“oh my god,” you say, deadpanning. “you’re early and funny. someone write this down. it needs an entire section in the history books that will be studied for generations to come.”

minho steps beside you without looking over. he’s dressed more casually this time— well, casual for him. a slate-grey sweater layered cleanly over a collared shirt, coat folded neatly over one arm, sleeves already pushed to the forearms like he’s bracing to fix something broken. even now, he looks like a walking google calendar. somehow both timeless and scheduled.

he doesn’t glance at the flowers, just pushes open the glass door and steps inside like he’s done it a thousand times.

you follow behind him. “you didn't tell me this place was so fancy.”

“you never asked,” he replies, voice low as his eyes sweep across the shop’s glossy floors.

inside, the florist is already setting out samples on a long oak table— velvet-lined trays of boutonnières arranged like jewelry displays, pale rose bundles rising from glass cylinders in perfectly staggered tiers, tall taper candles resting in antique brass holders that glow soft gold under the skylights. it’s as close to sacred as a planning space can feel.

you catch your breath for a second.

minho, naturally, doesn’t blink.

he slides his coat onto the back of a nearby chair with surgical precision, then rolls up his sleeves and starts flipping through the sample binder like he’s clocking in at a job he plans to outperform.

you narrow your eyes at him. “you’re awfully comfortable.”

he shrugs. “i like efficiency.”

but then he pauses. his fingers stop mid-turn over a page showcasing a trailing jasmine installation, its shape loose but elegant— intentional, but not rigid. something about the mess that makes sense.

he taps the page once.

“this one,” he asserts.

you blink. “…really?”

“your cousin will love it,” he replies simply. “you were right about the overgrown romantic thing.”

you stare at him.

not just because he said it. but because he said it like it cost nothing. like you being right was a given, not an anomaly. like you weren’t supposed to be on opposite ends of a never-ending argument.

“mark the calendar,” you mutter. “lee minho said something nice and no one has died.”

he rolls his eyes. “yet.”

the walkthrough begins in earnest. the florist leads you both through timelines, options, backup options. you follow her across the studio, scribbling in your notebook, nodding in all the right places, but your eyes keep drifting back to minho.

he’s not watching you. he’s not really watching anything.

he’s tracking.

when your pen slips from your notebook, he catches it mid-fall and sets it silently beside your hand. when the florist struggles with the ladder, he steps in without hesitation, holding it steady with one hand while helping rearrange a stubborn garland with the other. when she asks if you'd prefer the jasmine woven through the arch or draped more freely, you pause, unsure— and minho just says, quietly, “the drape. it catches the light better.”

you watch him without meaning to.

watch the way he folds his sleeves again as they start to slide. how he wipes his palms on his pants before handling delicate pieces. how he does things without being asked, does them well, and says nothing afterward.

it’s infuriating.

it’s— kind of amazing.

he’s not just good at this. he’s quietly good.

the kind of good that doesn’t need credit. that doesn’t point to his work when he’s done. that just makes sure the thing gets finished the way it’s supposed to.

you hate how the chaos seems less sharp when he’s near it.

you hate that you didn’t see it sooner.

you hate that you are seeing it now.

and you really, really hate the way your stomach flips when he steps back from the archway, nods at the florist, and says, “better. now it looks like it was meant to be here.”

what the hell is this supposed to mean?

later, as the florist talks through delivery dates, you find yourself zoning out just enough to realise how close the two of you are standing now. how his shoulder brushes yours each time he shifts weight. how he doesn’t seem to mind.

he notices everything, and yet— he doesn’t step away.

you’re not sure what that means.

you’re not sure you want to know.

you scribble a few final notes. mostly for show. your brain is a fog of jasmine, candle wax, and the smell of minho’s cologne that is unfortunately expensive and effective.

the florist asks for a final decision on what centrepieces and small motifs you’d like to order for the dining tables.

you open your mouth to speak, but before you do, minho leans forward, just slightly.

“she wants the low ones,” he affirms. “so people can see each other across the tables.”

the florist nods while ticking a section in her binder, then turns away.

you look at him.

not annoyed. not defensive.

just—

“how’d you know that?”

he shrugs. doesn’t look at you. “your eyes hovered over that section of the page for almost a full minute.”

you blink.

“…what?” he questions, catching your stare.

“nothing.”

“you’re doing the face.”

“what face?”

“the one where you realise i’m useful.”

you scoff. “i’d rather die.”

he grins.

not smirks. grins.

full, unguarded, slightly lopsided, but bright across his whole face. not for show, not for spite.

just for a second.

just for you.

and it hits you somewhere low and warm. something small but deep and entirely unprepared for.

you look away. immediately.

the florist clears her throat gently. you say something vaguely articulate.

he doesn’t look at you again.

when the meeting wraps, he helps pack the samples with the same quiet competence. he holds the door for her, thanks her for her time, checks the time and murmurs “on schedule, good” under his breath.

you linger by the car after. watching his hands as he scrolls through his calendar. efficient. focused.

you try not to notice his sharp knuckles or the veins raised along his wrists and hands that contorted with each of his movements.

you fail.

you used to think he was cold.

now you’re starting to wonder if he’s just careful.

and if maybe—just maybe—there’s more under that surface than either of you are ready to say out loud.

friday, 8:14pm

saturday, 12:48pm

sunday, 4:23pm

he should have said no to meeting at her place.

he should have said no the second the words “you can just come over, i have snacks and post-its” appeared in his texts like that was a normal thing to offer your co-planner. like it was a completely neutral suggestion to invite someone you had spent the past week or so bickering with into your living room with snacks and oddly aggressively colour-coded planning boards.

he told himself it was fine. he would stay an hour, maybe less. they would rearrange the seating chart, double-check the RSVPs, confirm vendor follow-ups, and move on. he wasn’t there to hang out. or linger. or notice things.

but now he was standing at your door, folder under his arm, coffee in his free hand, staring at the crooked little magnet on your front door that read:

no bad vibes (and also no men with opinions)

he stared at it for five seconds.

then knocked.

the door swung open on the second knock. you were already mid-sentence, wild and animated, one sock bunched halfway down your ankle like you hadn’t stopped moving all morning.

“ignore the mess,” you spoke quickly before he could get a greeting in, backing up into the apartment. “i’ve been in wedding-brain for three hours and i’m down a glue stick and most of my dignity.”

he stepped inside.

the first thing he noticed was the smell. vanilla and paper and something faintly like clean linen or lotion. the second thing was the absolute chaos spread across your living room floor. cushions tossed around a coffee table covered in seating cards, floor plan sketches, colour swatches, and the remains of what looked like a very enthusiastic snack run.

it looked like a storm made of washi tape had landed here and been told to get married.

“you said this would be a working meeting,” he said.

“this is a working meeting,” you replied, nudging a space clear on the floor for him to sit. “it just happens to include a little pizazz. and comfortableness. essentials!”

he didn’t roll his eyes. not outwardly.

but he did hesitate before lowering himself onto the floor beside you.

close. too close, maybe. but the coffee table left no room for distance.

“we’ll be quick,” he informed, opening his folder. “just seating and caterer reconfirmation. no need to—”

“minho,” you interrupted, reaching across him for a pen. “i designed laminated name tags! see?”

he blinked.

“you… laminated them?”

you held one up like it was a trophy, waving it proudly. “mhm, we’re not animals in this household.”

he didn’t respond. but he felt the corner of his mouth twitch once. involuntarily.

they settled into the work slowly.

or rather— you settled. you were cross-legged, phone propped against a jar of markers, flipping through guest notes and muttering about which side of the family was “least likely to start a scene,” or who was most incompatible with the elders of the family. your handwriting was neat but frantic. your mind, faster than your mouth.

he sat straighter. made notes in real time. watched your process like it was a foreign language he almost understood.

and slowly—almost annoyingly—he found himself syncing to it.

you spoke in half-formed ideas. he filled in the blanks.

you reached for one name, he already had it sorted alphabetically.

you frowned at the spacing when it felt off, he adjusted the layout with three quick gestures and no fanfare.

he didn’t ask questions. he didn’t announce when you had made a mistake. he just fixed it, no questions asked.

and for once, you didn’t fight him on it.

sometime between the third snack break and the fourth round of placements, he started noticing things.

like how you always tapped the side of her pencil twice before suggesting a change.

how you rechecked the same line of the guest list even after he’d confirmed it.

how you would squint at the chart with the intensity of someone trying to win an argument without saying a word.

and also— how your knee kept brushing his.

not deliberately. not flirtatiously. just the accidental contact of two people sitting too close for too long, both pretending not to notice.

but minho did notice.

he noticed it every time.

and the longer they sat there, the more aware of you he became. not in a distracting way. not even in a romantic one.

just… aware.

your perfume. faint. sweet. nothing showy. just you.

your fingers. always moving. fidgeting. rearranging.

your voice. lower when you were focused. softer.

your laugh, when you let it slip between sentences— unconfined, quick, like it surprised even you.

he didn’t want to learn these things. he just did.

“what if we moved table six next to the head table?” you suggested suddenly, breaking his spiral. “it’s awkward now, having these people out by the fireplace. it’s too far.”

he looked down at the map. then up at her.

you were biting the corner of her lip. unsure, for once.

he took the name cards. shifted the pieces around. slid your proposed change into place.

“you’re right,” he agreed.

you blinked. “i am?”

he nodded. “it balances the room.”

you smiled then— soft and easy. the kind that didn’t feel defensive or smug or rehearsed. the kind that made something buzz low in his throat.

“you’re not bad at this,” you hummed.

“you sound surprised.”

“just impressed. you didn’t even sigh once this time.”

“yet.”

you laughed again. this time, he let himself smile too.

they sat in that hush for a long moment. paper around them like flower petals. warm yellow light spilling from the lamp above. your shoulder barely brushing his. his thumb tapping absently against the corner of a card.

he didn’t say the thing in his throat.

the one that sounded a lot like you’re easier to be around than i thought. i like this more than i’m letting myself admit.

he didn’t say anything at all.

but when he reached for the final place card and your fingers met his halfway, neither of you pulled back.

not for a second.

then—finally—you stood, and stretched your arms above your head.

the moment broke like sugar glass.

“i’ll finalise this tonight,” you spoke. “unless you want to triple-check everything in your sleep.”

he stood too. adjusted his folder. gave you a look.

“only twice.”

you rolled your eyes.

he watched you without meaning to.

in the car, on the way back to his side of the city, he stared out the window.

not thinking about anything.

but not not thinking about you.

that was new.

monday, 10:02am

wednesday, 1:27pm

friday, 5:11pm

the sky is a melted spill of lavender and peach, the last sun-glow dipping behind the treetops. the breeze is warm for winter, dusted in late golden hour, and you’re adjusting the strap of your dress with a pit in your stomach and a buzzing under your skin.

you smooth your dress again. fix the collar of your coat. stare at your reflection in the hallway mirror like it might give you instructions.

just take a deep breath.

it’s just minho.

just minho, who once called your table styling “visually exhausting.” minho, who adjusted the itinerary once because your bullet points weren’t “uniform enough.” minho, who made planning feel like a chess match played with garden shears.

except tonight, you are fairly certain he is in a suit.

you do not know that for a fact, but you’ve heard him say “semi-formal” in the exact same tone most people say “murder,” and if he took it seriously—which he would—then he is absolutely out there right now dressed like a warning label for heartbreak.

you are not nervous. you are not. you are just slightly flushed from the glass of white wine you definitely did not drink to calm yourself. and maybe your hands are a little cold, and maybe your thoughts are not particularly safe for work, but—

you peek through the front window.

he’s here.

minho. suit-clad. leaning against the side of his car like he stepped out of a magazine editorial called brooding elegance. charcoal grey jacket and black slacks, tie tied almost too perfectly around his neck. his sleeves are rolled just slightly, enough to reveal forearms and a glint of silver watch that should not make you feel the way it does. his hair is still damp from a recent shower, the ends curling just above his temples.

you grip the doorframe like it’s the only thing keeping your knees upright.

and then— your phone lights up. his name. your thumb hesitates above the screen before you answer.

“i’m outside,” he informs, voice smooth, low. irritatingly calm.

you nearly drop your phone. “be down in a sec,” you reply, breathless. “hold your horses. or whatever it is you drive.”

the door opens.

he turns.

you descend the steps one by one, heels soft against the concrete, coat draped over your arms, and you pretend not to notice the way his eyes catch— how they stay fixed. the way he straightens up as if jolted by electricity.

he blinks. once. twice.

and then— he swears under his breath. quietly. reverently.

he’s trying to stay neutral. to act like your presence in that dress isn’t causing minor system failure. but he is not fooling anyone. especially not himself.

he opens the passenger door for you.

“you look—” he begins, but then his voice cuts out like he changed his mind halfway through.

“you’re driving?” you deflect, half-laughing, already sliding into the seat.

“i can legally operate a vehicle,” he feigns offense, but his mouth twitches into a smile. he sits in the drivers seat. “don’t act surprised.”

“no, it’s not that. it’s just…” you exhale and give him a pointed once-over. “you. suit. behind the wheel. how dare you.”

“oh how dare i, hm?”

his hands tense around the wheel, knuckles white.

“the way you said that. oh that’s the hottest thing you’ve ever said to me,” you murmur to yourself, quietly enough so that he doesn’t hear.

he does hear it.

the rest of the ride is quiet. not silent, not comfortable, charged. like someone turned the volume down on the world but turned the brightness way, way up.

his cologne coils low in your throat. something clean, something subtle, like cedar, cold water, and a hint of heat beneath. you keep your eyes ahead, fingers fidgeting in your lap, trying not to notice the line of his thigh pressed close, the way his hand flexes on the gearshift. the flick of his gaze toward you at every red light.

he doesn’t speak. but he feels. like static across your skin.

friday, 5:44pm

the venue is glowing when you arrive— fairy lights strung in loose constellations through the trellises, draping low over the courtyard like starlight caught in a net. soft instrumental music filters through hidden speakers, just shy of orchestral, just shy of overwhelming. it pools into the golden hour like it belongs there. like it was written to gild the edges of a night like this.

it’s elegant. lush. dizzying.

it’s everything you had wanted for your cousin. it’s everything you had drafted in sketches, pinterest boards, and blurry midnight notes in your phone.

and it feels real now.

you step inside. and minho is beside you.

not ahead, not trailing behind— just there. shoulder to shoulder. like the rhythm has been established and neither of you are willing to break it now.

you both field questions like co-hosts. not just efficient— seamless. one unit split between two bodies.

he defers to you on décor. you defer to him on vendor logistics. a glance is all it takes for a decision to be made.

people notice.

they always do.

someone’s aunt knocks over a glass of wine with a too-wide gesture. you both move at once— him for the glass, you for the napkins. he catches it mid-fall. you’re already blotting the linen. he holds the glass steady as you reach for it. your hands brush— barely.

neither of you says anything.

but your pulse thuds behind your ears.

he disappears at one point and reappears moments later with a new drink, no explanation. he does not ask if you want it. just places it beside your elbow like it belongs there. there for you if you were to want a fresh glass. he would be unoffended if you left it, you know. he just wants you to have what you want.

obviously only in the context of ease and convenience. nothing else.

you do not thank him out loud.

you just hand him a new place card for table five without being prompted.

this is how it goes now. reflexive. unspoken. comfortably in swing with each other.

you do not touch.

but you almost do.

when you reach across him for the floral sample, your sleeve brushes his wrist.

he doesn’t move.

at one point, you bend to fix the ribbon placement along the sweetheart table. he kneels beside you, adjusting the arrangement opposite your hands with quiet precision. you’re close— close enough to see the shadow of his lashes, the faint crease at the corner of his mouth when he concentrates.

you glance over to him.

he’s already looking at you.

and for one full second, neither of you look away.

your breath sticks.

his fingers pause mid-placement.

then—too fast—he clears his throat and shifts back like nothing happened.

“you handled that toast well,” he compliments—almost smugly—later, voice just behind your shoulder.

you turn your head, slightly.

he’s close enough that the scent of his cologne fogs your senses. warm. dark. something spiced that makes your head hum.

“was that a compliment?” you murmur, lips tilted.

he blinks once. then—quiet, like it’s an accident—he says, “maybe.”

you don’t answer.

but you also don’t move away.

you stand like that for a few long beats. shoulder to shoulder in the half-lit hallway, the sound of laughter echoing off the walls from the next room. the party goes on without you. but your body is tuned to him, now. to the static, the charge, the sharp ache of whatever this is becoming.

friday, 7:32pm

the courtyard is warm with late sun and champagne. the soft glimmer of fairy lights makes the air feel a little enchanted— like something impossible might happen if you just stepped a little farther into the gold.

you step back instead.

a soft breeze trails through the stone archway as you slip away from the bustle, away from the table setup and the politely enthusiastic relatives and the never-ending sea of questions. you don’t go far— just near the fountain, where the string music fades into a gentler hush and the flowers curl around the trellises like they grew just for tonight.

you breathe.

a moment. just one.

and then, your cousin appears. she’s still in rehearsal whites, hair pinned up loosely, glowing with that particular kind of joy that only belongs to the week before a wedding. when she sees you, she smiles like she’s been waiting for this exact moment.

"you look like you needed rescuing," she laughs softly, linking her arm through yours.

you breathe out a soft laugh. "i was hiding."

"same thing."

you stand like that for a moment. the breeze is just warm enough, the laughter from inside low and soft like it's part of the décor.

she pulls back slightly to look at you. "so… how are things going with my two favourite planners?"

you snort. "we haven’t killed each other. yet."

"interesting," she hums, tilting her head, clearly playing innocent. "because it looked a lot like i saw minho refill your glass and brush the hair off your shoulder and laugh at something that was not remotely funny."

"he didn’t—"

"mmhm."

you blink, suddenly aware of the residual warmth in your chest. of the way you’d caught yourself watching him earlier— adjusting the lighting chart, jacket off, tie loosened, sleeves rolled. how he’d glanced over like he felt it too. like he was watching you back.

"he’s just being polite," you dismiss finally.

"he’s never been polite a day in his life."

you glare. "do you want me to plan your wedding or not."

she grins, completely unbothered. "just sayin’. you two are… something."

"something?"

"something. simmering."

a moment passes.

she rests her head briefly against your shoulder, voice gentler now. “thank you. for everything. i know this past time has been hell, i know how he can be to deal with sometimes. i know i dumped you into this on the spot when i asked you.”

you shake your head. “no, you didn’t. i said yes. and… i’m glad i did.”

“even with him?”

“…maybe especially with him.”

she smiles. then, her head perks up like she’s just remembered something.

"anyway—before i forget—do you have next weekend blocked out?"

you furrow your brows. "uh. no? what’s next weekend? i didn't think i had forgotten something was on..."

"oh no, you didn't forget. i just booked this yesterday. it's a super crazy catering presentation, with that chef group you picked out—great taste, by the way. it’s at their fancy vineyard estate a few hours out. the head chef wants you and minho to sample the full menu and sign off."

"that sounds…" you trail off, suspicious.

"delicious?" your cousin offers.

"inconvenient."

"it’s in the evening," she says, all fake-cheerful. "they’re serving everything as a full-course dinner. with champagne pairings. and the estate insists on overnight guests to ‘ensure palette clarity’ or some crap."

"girl—"

"relax. i already booked the room."

"the room? singular?"

"the one room they had left."

you stare at her.

she smiles like she just got away with a crime. "it’s all they had on short notice! i said you were very close coworkers."

"you’re going to hell."

"worth it."

you cover your face with both hands. she hugs you sideways.

"you’re welcome," she smiles into your shoulder. "only good can come from this."

friday, 9:17pm

the champagne goes straight to your head.

not a lot. but just enough.

you’re perched beside him on a low stone ledge in the garden, empty glasses between you, the air full of murmuring laughter and distant violin.

you’re tipsy. not sloppy. you’re still completely in control, just loose around the edges.

your cheeks are warm. your guard’s cracked.

you glance sideways. he’s got one arm draped across his knee, suit jacket folded neatly over a nearby chair, dress shirt unbuttoned just slightly at the collar, tie abandoned to his pocket.

“you look really—” you start. pause. sip your drink even though it’s empty. “—stupid hot tonight.”

minho stills.

you don’t look at him when you say it. you stare straight ahead. pretend it was a joke. a mistake. a side effect of the alcohol.

but he turns slowly.

you feel the weight of his gaze like a hand on your throat.

he says nothing.

he doesn’t need to.

the air shifts. tightens.

his knee brushes yours.

you don’t move.

he should say something. you should say something.

instead, you both just sit in it. the weight of what was said and what wasn’t. the electric hum under your skin. the way your eyes catch on the curve of his mouth every time he exhales.

someone calls you both back, instantly shattering any moment you both were in. minho helps you up and aside to let you reenter the building first, his palm lightly brushing the centre of your back to guide you.

you almost thank him.

you almost reach for his wrist as you pass.

but neither of you breaks the silence.

instead, you fall back into step.

like gravity.

like a pattern already written.

and in every step beside him, in every look passed between wine glasses and candles, the truth lingers beneath the surface:

you are not pretending to hate each other anymore.

but you are still pretending not to want.

and that’s worse.

so much worse.

friday, 10:01pm

it’s later that night, and the party is starting to splinter— guests leaving in soft clusters, heels in hands, speeches echoing in their laughter. minho stands near the exit, nursing the last half of a drink that’s long since lost its chill.

minho does not look for you.

he’s been doing that all night. too much. too obviously.

so now, he’s looking at the chandelier. or the gift table. or absolutely anything that isn’t the swing of your dress across the room.

"you’re brooding," comes a voice to his left.

he turns slowly, and sees the groom looking back at him.

"i’m standing," minho replies.

"brooding while standing, then." his friend clinks their glasses together. “what’s going on with you and my fiancée’s cousin?”

minho exhales through his nose. “nothing.”

"mhmm. and yet here you are, glowering into your whiskey like a tortured protagonist.”

"we’re working."

"you’re working,” the groom echoes, nodding with mock seriousness. “working together. respectfully. professionally. with all that almost-hand-touching and deep eye contact."

minho sips his drink and says nothing.

"anyway," the groom says, smirking now, "the missus told me i was meant to give you a heads-up."

minho raises a brow.

"about next weekend. the vineyard. she booked you both in for the catering run-through."

“right,” minho nods. “the dinner thing was mentioned to me earlier in passing.”

“it’s a whole presentation now,” the groom replies. “chef’s running a full-course mock-up— wine pairings, menu tasting, all that. they’re trying to make a night of it. impress you.”

minho nods once. this was practical. expected, even.

then the groom adds, far too casually: “and they’ve got a room ready for you two.”

minho pauses. “a room?”

“mhm. they only had one left. something about peak wedding season. it's been booked already.”

there’s a beat of silence. the music has shifted— slow, distant, some soft piano instrumental echoing through the space like the tail end of a love story.

minho sets his glass down with a little more force than necessary.

“it’s not weird,” the groom offers, attempting nonchalance. “it’s a huge room. i think. probably. big vineyard. rustic charm. candles and shit. very aesthetic.”

“why would i care,” minho says, voice tight. his attempt to cover the fact that he in fact does care is futile.

the groom’s expression shifts— just slightly. “you shouldn’t. obviously. but you do look a little…”

"i don’t."

“…weirdly tense about it.”

minho closes his eyes for half a second. opens them again.

“we’re professionals,” he breathes evenly. “we’ll manage.”

"mm. you do seem like you're managing. especially when you aren’t staring at her for three minutes straight across the bar."

minho doesn’t reply.

he picks up his jacket from the back of the chair. straightens the collar. and ignores the grin spreading across his friend’s face.

"if it helps," the groom remarks, one last parting shot, “from the time that i've known her, i think she likes working with you.”

minho freezes for half a breath.

then leaves. the silence swells around him, full of everything he didn’t say. didn’t ask.

she likes working with you.

he lets the words sink in.

one room.

one dinner.

not a problem.

not a problem at all.

this might be a problem.

friday, 10:37pm

on the way back, the silence is unbearable.

minho drives.

his right hand stays steady on the wheel, knuckles tight with restraint, the other resting uselessly on the gear shift as though it needs something to grip— anything to ground him. the interior of the car smells like you. your perfume, the faintest trace of champagne on your breath, your laughter still echoing somewhere in the seams of the leather seats.

you do not speak.

you do not dare.

your body is turned slightly toward the window, knees angled just enough to look casual, but not distant. the air between you is vibrating, humming with the static of everything that did not get said. your thigh brushes his once—accidental. then again, more like a whisper. more like your skin asking a question it cannot voice.

he does not flinch.

you are thinking things you are not supposed to think.

what his mouth would taste like— how it would feel to pull him in by the collar and kiss him like you mean it. what sound he would make if you said his name like a secret. if his hands would hesitate or devour. whether his tie is still tucked into his coat pocket and whether he would ever let you tug on it just once.

you grip the hem of your coat tighter in your fists.

outside, the streetlights paint passing gold ribbons across your thighs, your cheek, the line of his jaw when you steal a glance.

a red light.

you risk it.

you look at him.

and he is already watching you.

his eyes are dark, unreadable. but something inside them flickers— something raw and wrecked and wanting. his jaw is tense. his mouth parted like there are words balanced right there on the edge, waiting to tumble out if only he could bear to say them.

he opens his mouth.

your breath catches. you feel it— feel the shift, the second the air grows tight and ready to snap. your lips part too, like maybe this is it. maybe this is the moment everything gives way.

but then—

the light turns green.

he exhales like he’s been holding it in for hours.

and he drives.

he walks you to your door because he is polite. because he is eighty-five percent sure you're still tipsy, and you actually don’t know what you’re doing. (you do know). because if he leaves without seeing you inside, he will worry. because if he leaves without one last look, he will break.

you fumble with your keys.

your hands shake a little— not obviously, not enough for him to comment, but you feel it. the adrenaline of something almost-born still stuttering beneath your ribs. you glance up once, open your mouth. the words are right there, tucked beneath your tongue. i wanted to kiss you. i don’t hate you anymore. i don’t want to pretend.

but he speaks first.

“goodnight.”

simple. even. too smooth to be accidental.

you blink.

“…goodnight,” you echo.

neither of you moves.

he stands there, hands in the pockets of his coat, chest rising slowly. you think he might lean in again, just slightly, barely perceptible— but you see it. you feel it. like the universe is teetering forward with him.

his gaze traces the outline of your lips.

your collarbone.

your eyes.

you are all heat, all pulse, and all maybe, and he is looking at you like he might do something unforgivable.

but then— he tilts his head. just a fraction. and steps back.

“see you soon, get some rest,” he mutters, voice thick, rough around the edges like it scraped against everything he did not say.

you nod. even though you are not ready. even though your mouth aches with every unspoken thing you swallowed down instead.

the door closes softly behind you.

you lean against it. then slide down to the floor in your stupid pretty dress and too-warm skin and heartbeat that does not know how to calm down. you press your palm flat to the hardwood flooring, like if you stay there long enough you might still feel the echo of his footsteps through it.

you want to tell him to come back. say something. scream.

instead, you just sit there, clutching your coat like it might explain anything.

outside, he does not move.

minho stands under the porch light, eyes fixed on the crack between your curtains, trying to convince himself to turn around. to breathe. to forget.

but he can't.

his hands curl into fists inside his pockets, like they’re holding him together. like if he loosens one finger, the whole thing might break.

minho doesn't sleep that night.

and neither do you.

both of you lying in separate beds, in separate parts of the city, thinking the exact same thing:

i should have said something.

i should have kissed them.

but the window of opportunity has closed. and the night has carried on, leaving you in the dust.

saturday, 11:04am

the morning is too bright.

you wake with your cheek pressed into your pillow and your hand curled beneath your chin, the imprint of last night’s makeup faint against the fabric. your mouth is dry. your hair smells like champagne and something floral.

you do not open your eyes right away.

you are remembering things. not dreams— real things.

his hand on the small of your back, guiding you inside like it was nothing.

the look he gave you when you stepped into the car.

the silence between you, thick enough to drown in.

you should have said something.

you roll onto your back with a hefty sigh, blanket kicked to the floor, one arm draped across your stomach like it might hold the ache there still. it is not a romantic ache. not a lovesick one. it is sharper than that. brighter. like your body is still buzzing from a voltage it was never allowed to discharge.

your phone is facedown on your nightstand. you consider ignoring it.

you do not.

the screen lights up in your palm— no messages from him. no messages to him, either. not yet.

your text thread from yesterday is still open, like it’s waiting for one of you to admit something.

it mocks you.

you type out thanks for the ride

then delete it.

you type what would you have done if i brought you inside?

then delete it.

you type did you get home okay?

then delete that too.

you lock your phone and toss it gently across the bed.

in the kitchen, your kettle sputters to life, and you lean against the counter, waiting, eyes still swollen from too little sleep. your dress is still pooled on the chair. your heels by the door.

you don’t feel bad.

you just feel… unsettled.

as if something important almost happened.

as if it still might.

somewhere across the city, minho sits on the edge of his bed, tie still crumpled in the pocket of his coat, phone in his hand. his thumb hovers above your name, unread messages unsent.

he’d meant to text.

he’d meant to say goodnight, or you looked beautiful, or what would you have done if i leaned in?

he doesn’t text any of those things.

instead, he gets up, drags a hand through his hair, and stares at the mess on his desk— your invitation designs, your schedules, your ceremony timings.

everything in its place.

everything but this.

he thinks about your perfume.

the way you looked at him when you said that’s the hottest thing you’ve ever said to me.

how your fingers almost touched his at the stoplight.

how he almost said i wanted to kiss you and instead said nothing at all.

he makes coffee, and proceeds to not drink it.

he tells himself to let it go.

he knows he won’t.

you sip your tea slowly.

you scroll through photos you do not remember taking— random areas of the venue, family members you haven’t seen in too long, and only one of minho. it appears to have been taken in a random room at the venue, you think he was speaking with some vendors? the memory is foggy. it’s a candid image, and your slightly blurred-drunken photography gives it a dreamy look, making him appear even more ethereal than you remember.

you stop on that one and stare at it for a long time. it’s like you’re frozen in a daze, he’s so capturing.

then, you open your messages with him and him the image.

just that.

no message. no caption. no follow-up.

you leave your phone on the counter and walk away.

when you return five minutes later, there’s a reply.

your heart stutters once.

you close the thread.

and smile. freely.

you’re alone, and you’re sick of pretending he isn’t the reason for it.

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thanks for reading chapter two! keep hanging around for chapter three and beyond <3

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[moonchild9350]

Spell for Love

Summary: You were given a familiar, Seungmin, long ago to help guide you in your practice as a witch. Seungmin is your everything, both of you being destined to fall for each other. However, fate has other plans as there's chaos when you both break the rules with your love.

Pairing: Familiar Seungmin x Witch gn reader

Genre: fantasy au, thriller, fluff, angst, smut- 18+ MDNI

Word Count: 4.2k

Warnings: witchcraft (duh), violence, mention of chronic illness, mention of blood, mention of death, p in v penetration, creampie (dont), multiple rounds, they're in love your honor lol

Notes: Seungmin would make a good familiar hehe. Anyhoo spooktober continues with week 3 and I hope you enjoy this next installment!

If you enjoyed, please consider a like, comment, and reblog as it keeps me motivated ♡

Divider by @saradika-graphics

Please do not copy, translate, modify, use, or repost this work elsewhere without my permission. ©moonchild9350 (2024)

“Love is a strange dark magic, where death may only make it stronger, the softest kiss in the wrong direction can stew it away forever.”-Atticus

You have known Seungmin since you were a child, a little witch under the care of your mother and aunts. He was your familiar, a spirit sent to guide you throughout your life as a witch.

He was assigned to you at the measly age of six, at your coming of age as a witch. You remember the day, how it was filled with ceremonies and rituals, sanctifying you as a witch. Both of you received matching signets, a raven, branded onto your skin to show you were bound to each other for eternity.

At first you were a little weary of the boy, his hair always disheveled, his clothes a mess. He was also quiet, taking a while to break out of his shell, while you were full of energy, often bouncing around him talking nonstop.

Seungmin often took refuge in his familiar form, a shaggy black dog, when you were younger which seemed to be more comfortable for him. Despite this, he always was there to guide you and ensure you were on the proper track in your studies.

As you grew, he became your best friend and confidant. If you were in one spot, he wasn’t too far behind. If you got into yet another fight with the other witches at school, he would be the one to break up the fight and then later proceed to comfort you. Seungmin became your foundation through the rockiest points in your life.

However, that was years ago. Now you both were not so little and living in a small town. You had a little cottage in the woods, the one with flowers in the windows and lining the walkway to the door. Your prized garden was out back, filled with flowers and herbs you used for your potions. Smoke billows from the chimney into the night air, the fire casting a warm glow.

If anyone looked through the window, they’d catch a glimpse of a cozy scene, none the wiser to who lived at the little cottage. You chose to stay a little ways from town, as not everyone accepted you and what you were. They’d cast you looks and steer clear of you when passing you in town.

The townsfolk warned their children to never go to the cottage in the woods, lest they want to become the victim of the witches spell. It was all hodgepodge, however, as you and Seungmin were the most down to earth people, staying to yourselves and nice to everyone you met.

---

Today was an important day, one you had been looking forward to. You were summoned for a job, to help cure a sick child within the town. You often offered your services of healing, wanting to help others instead of staying cooped up in your cottage.

However, it has been months since your last summons, as the townsfolk did not want to believe in such "witchcraft." Therefore, when a desperate mother showed up at your door step, pleading for you to help her daughter, you gladly accepted the mother's plea.

So here you were, sliding a dress over your legs, pulling it up around your body, the material fitting perfectly along your slender frame. Seungmin watched from his chair in the corner, his eyes lingering on your curves as you fiddled with the sleeves. He loved your body, slender but plush in all the right places, perfect for his arms to wrap around.

Seungmin loved everything about you. He has ever since he first met you when he was appointed your familiar. He would do just about anything for you, and he means anything. Right about now, that includes fastening the buttons on the back of your dress.

“Thanks Min,” you said with a warm smile, watching as Seungmin fastened your dress, feeling the brush of his fingers through the fabric, causing a shiver to run down your spine.

Seungmin smiled, his lip curling up at your praise. Your grin grew wider as you smoothed your dress down. You turned to face Seungmin, as he stood in front of you, his eyes looking into yours expectedly. You placed your hands on either side of his face and squished his cheeks playfully, a soft whine falling from his mouth in protest. You giggled at the noise, amused at his annoyance at the gesture.

You both stood there for who knows how long, staring into each other’s eyes, the love you have for each other radiating within the small room.

Yes, you love Seungmin. You have for years. He’d do anything for you, he cares for you, more than you can say for most people. You wondered if he loves you back, loves you unconditionally just like you do for him?

You smile one last time, before dropping your arms and walking away.

“Let’s go Min,” you said, grabbing your pouch with the potion that would heal the child.

You both left the cottage and made your way towards town to Marion's house. Marion was the name of the child you were summoned to heal. She had an illness that has been plaguing her for years and wouldn’t go away. The town’s doctors did not know what caused her illness, every form of treatment failing. Over the last fortnight, it has been getting worse, as she’s not even able to get out of bed.

Seungmin watched as you clutched your pouch closer to your body as you hurried down the path. He could tell you were eager, as it’s been a while since you’ve been summoned. He helped you prepare the perfect potion for Marion, one that will heal her if her parent’s followed the proper regimen.

“We need to add Reishi, Comfrey, sage for healing, and a little Hops for sedation,” Seungmin remembered you saying, handing you each ingredient when you asked for them. The aroma wasn’t exactly pleasant, but little work that you both do is so. “This will be perfect for the girl, should heal her in no time!” Seungmin sure hoped so for your sake.

It wasn't long until the town came into view, the buildings looming in the distance as the sun was setting, tucking itself in to rest. The moon was peaking out, slowly showing itself as it's time neared with each passing minute.

You could see people hurrying back home or the local pub for a bite to eat as their day was coming to an end. Seungmin walked closer to you, placing his arm on your back protectively, as he guided you through town.

There was something in the air, an electricity that seemed to dance through the humid air and dance across the skin, causing the hair on his arm to raise. The air felt thick, almost making it difficult to breathe. Seungmin was worried, his eyes darting this way and that, watching the many faces passing by as you got closer to little Marion’s house.

“It’s ok Min. We’ll complete the job and be back home before you know it,” you said, trying to soothe your familiar.

You could tell he was on edge as he ushered you through town. If he was in his familiar form, you're sure the fur on his back would be bristled, his ears perked up for any abnormal sounds.

He had reason to be on edge you thought as you felt it too, something looming around you, ready to pounce in the spur of the moment. You needed this job to go well, not only for Marion's sake but also because were running out of funds, your money jar just about empty back at the cottage.

Arriving at your destination, you both stopped in your tracks, staring at the door. You squeezed Seungmin’s hand in yours before knocking, your knuckles tapping the wood three times. You didn’t have to wait long as Marion’s mother opened the door not a moment later, her eyes red and puffy from crying. She regarded you with slight uncertainty, before stepping back and ushering you in.

You stepped over the threshold, following her silently, through the kitchen, the living area, and to a door. She looked at you once more before turning the knob and opening the door.

You were slightly taken aback, as sweltering heat hit you in the face, the room baking in the summer heat. The air was stale, the smell of yesterdays food and antiseptic permeating the room. The windows were closed and bolted tight, allowing no airflow into the room, other than from the door you stood at now.

You hesitated to walk in, your eyes wide in shock.

“We are at wits end y/n,” Marion’s mother exclaimed, “please help us!”

You regarded the woman in front of you, taking in her pleading, bloodshot eyes. You could tell she was suffering, the responsibility of caring for a sick child taking its tole. You nodded and looked at Seungmin, before making your way to Marion’s bed.

You sat your pouch down and rustled through it, looking for the potion that you and Seungmin had prepared the night before. You hand brushed against something smooth and small before you wrapped your fingers around it, pulling out a vial, the amber liquid within sloshing against the side. Smiling, you stood up and walked closer to Marion.

Looking at the girl, you could tell she was gravely ill, most likely on death’s door. You brushed your hand through her wispy hair, gently singing a soothing song. Marion opened her eyes, the sunken in orbs finding your face. You smiled and uncorked the vial, bringing it to her lips.

You encouraged her to drink with promises of healing, tipping the vial slowly into her mouth. Marion gulped it down as best as she could, her eyes never leaving yours. Once she was done, you discarded the vial and smiled before turning to face her mother.

“She should start to feel better within the week,” you said.

“Thank you! Thank you!” The mother cried, tears streaming down her face at the hope of her child finally being healed.

You nodded and reached out your hand, as the lady placed two silver coins into your palms. You thanked her and made to leave, Seungmin following close behind. You walked with purpose, the promise of a nice dinner for once on your mind, the sound of the two coins clinking together in your pouch.

“We can have anything for dinner tonight Min!” You exclaimed, grabbing his hand. “Let’s stop here at this pub.”

Seungmin agreed, excited at the prospect of eating more than a few potatoes. He followed you into the crowded pub, his eyes roaming over the people gathered there for dinner. He sniffed the air, the aroma of the pub's house stew permeating the air, causing him to salivate and his stomach to growl.

You came across a table in the corner that seemed good as any and so you both sat down, settling in on the old, wooden chairs. Seungmin ordered two bowls of the stew, smiling at the waitress as she placed two mugs of mead in front of you. You sighed in contentment as the golden liquid slid down your throat, settling in your belly, causing you to feel warm from the inside out.

You didn’t have to wait long for your food to arrive, as two piping hot bowls filled with meat and vegetables was placed in front of you. You grabbed your spoon and dug in, filling your belly with the warm stew. You both ate in silence, savoring the taste of the food and listening to the chatter of the other patrons, enjoying the cozy atmosphere.

You both were almost done eating when a guttural scream laced with anguish pierced the night air and traveled into the loud pub. Everyone quieted instantly at the sound, turning their heads to the door to see the source of the disturbance. The door swung open, the wood slamming against the wall, as a woman came running in, the skirt of her dress billowing behind her.

“You killed her!” She screamed over and over, tears streaming down her face as she pointed an accusing finger your way.

You recognized Marion’s mother, your heart dropping at the sight of her. What did she mean that you killed her? You almost fell backwards as she rushed at you, her arms outstretched as if to strangle you, fury mixed with despair plastered on her face.

“You killed her, you…you witch!” She screamed as she tried to claw at your face.

You tried to protect your face from her hands but shrieked as her hands eventually made contact, her sharp nails dragging down your cheek, drawing blood. Seungmin quickly grabbed your arm, his fingers digging into your skin as he pulled you up from your chair.

"We need to run, come on y/n!" Seungmin said, a sense of urgency in his voice.

You agreed, and started to run behind him, your free hand on your cheek trying to stop the bleeding from your wound. You both made it to the door in no time. Seungmin pushed passed the townsfolk who were trying to block your way to escape, flinging the door open causing the people to scatter.

You both ran down the path, causing dirt to fly everywhere, the dust coating the bottom of your dress. Dodging the people on the path proved easy as they hurried to get out of the way, their eyes widened as you two ran past.

You didn’t slow down, following behind Seungmin as he dragged you along. You were breathing heavy, as your lungs tried to expand with the amount of exertion you were placing on your body. The edge of town was in sight, the expanse of trees taking shape signaling that you were almost home. You didn’t stop running, not even when you arrived at your door.

Seungmin quickly unlocked the door and ushered you in, giving a quick glance down the path before closing the door quickly behind you and sliding the deadbolt in place, effectively locking it.

You sunk to the floor, your body falling into a heap, your hands trembling as you brought them to your face. You wondered where you went wrong, running over the steps of brewing the potion the night before. You went through each step, one by one, tears streaming down your face, but not able to think of one way you could have gone wrong.

You were shaken out of your thoughts by the feel of Seungmin’s warm hands on yours, as he carefully brought them away from your face to grasp them in his.

“Don’t cry, y/n,” he said, pain reflected in his eyes at your distress. “You didn’t do this. That child was close to death by the time we got there.”

You shook your head at his words, trying to believe in them. You looked down at your hands intertwined, watching as his fingers rubbed soothing circles over your knuckles. You were happy that Seungmin was here with you and comforting you.

Seungmin watched your face, pain in his heart as he watched the tears fall from your eyes, painting your beautiful face. His eyes wandered to the scratches on your cheek, blemishing the flesh that is usually flushed with red. He held your hands tighter in his, not wanting to let them go. He felt his heart swell, his love for you ever growing. He had to let you know just how much he cares for you, fearing that your time together is shorter than he would like.

“Y/n,” Seungmin whispered before leaning towards you, his gaze holding yours.

You did not move, frozen in place as you watched Seungmin lean closer and closer to you. You took in his shaggy hair, the tips of the strands lightly touching his eyelashes, almost obscuring his eyes. You gazed into the orbs which were focused on you, as they flicked from your eyes, down to your lips, and back to your eyes again.

You couldn’t believe this was happening, in all your grief from tonight’s events. Time seemed to stop as he hovered right in front of you, his warm breath gently tickling your face. Your breath caught as you felt his soft lips press against yours, the flesh melting into each other with each passing moment. The kiss was wet as your tears continued to stream down your face.

It was suddenly all a flurry of movement as you found yourself on the couch, Seungmin hovering over you as he continued to hurriedly kiss you. It was a moment of passion, your tongue tangling with his, as his hands grasped at your dress, hiking the fabric up and over your waist.

You spread your legs more, so he could slot himself more comfortably between them. There was a flurry of more fabric rustling, as Seungmin tried to remove his pants, his leaking cock springing free from its confines.

You gasped out, as he pushed into you, his cock stretching your little hole, causing you to tremble from both the pleasure and pain. Seungmin did not wait for you to accommodate to the stretch as he began to thrust his hips hard and fast into yours, the tip of his cock kissing your cervix. He eyes raked over your face, taking in how your eyes were wide and mouth parted as he coaxed out little “oh, oh, ohs.”

He felt like he was on cloud nine, finally being able to have you, to have his cock buried deep within the woman he has always loved. Seungmin shuddered as he felt you clench around him, your pussy sucking him in, keeping him within the expanse of your warm walls.

You clutched onto his arms, bringing him closer to you to attach his lips to yours. With a few more strokes, you tipped over the edge, the warm feeling spreading throughout your core and body, your arousal dripping steadily, coating Seungmin's cock with your white, sticky arousal. You let out a low moan as you felt Seungmin's cock twitch within you, as he filled you up with his cum, marking you as his.

As you both came down from your highs, Seungmin whispered “I love you,” pressing a gentle kiss to your lips.

You grinned and chuckled as you grasped his face repeating “I love you, I love you, I love you.”

You both laid there for what felt like forever, clutched in each other's arms, Seungmin's now softened cock still buried within you. The shadows from the fire danced on the walls, as the sun finally laid to rest, the moon finally making it's full appearance.

You couldn't get enough of the man above you, feeling his cock once again harden within you. You longed to feel the beat of his heart against your chest as you pulled him closer, his head buried in the crook of your neck as he slowly rocked into you. Time passes slowly and sweetly, your breath mixing with his moans, as he brought you both closer to yet another orgasm. You came with a sigh and his name on your lips as Seungmin whimpered, releasing his load within you.

You continued to profess your love for each other, whispering sweet nothings in the silence of the cottage until that silence was broken by a series of loud bangs on your door.

You both startled at the noise, panic taking over at what it could mean...or worse who it could be. You thought the townspeople had finally made it to your cottage, ready to take you in. Seungmin quickly got up, fixing his pants as he made his way to the door.

You sat up and straightened your dress, not caring at the sticky substance leaking and coating your thighs, as terror filled you as you watched him walk to the door. As he threw it open, you noticed three people at the door, dressed in what seemed like an official uniform, donned in thick midnight blue coats, the signal of the council of witches pinned to the lapel.

“Seungmin the familiar?” One of the men asked, his tone gruff.

“Yes?” Seungmin responded.

“You are in contempt of the law of the ancients. We have to take you in. Please come with us peacefully."

You sat confused, not understanding what was occurring in front of you. Your mind was churning, trying to remember the law your mother made to instill in you, the content sounding familiar. Your thoughts were interrupted however, as you watched two of the men roughly place Seungmin’s hands behind his back, fastening them together with a spell.

You screamed as they roughly fastened his hands, as they kicked him in the abdomen over and over, pain littering Seungmin's face as he coughed and breathed in, trying to let the air in that was just knocked out.

You screamed ‘What are you doing’ as you tried to go to your familiar, best friend, and lover. The other man who was overseeing it all, stopped you in your tracks, grabbing your wrist before pushing you hard to where you fell backwards and onto the hard floor. You winced at the pain, watching in horror as they continued to beat Seungmin in front of you, torturing him without mercy. You felt useless, unable to help the man you love as you scooted up to watch the horror.

What hurt you the most was when they brought out a contraption, placing it on his skin directly on his signet, signaling that he was your familiar. Pressing a button, a silver laser jetted out, the flash of light striking Seungmin's skin. You watched as Seungmin cried out in pain, the area on his chest dripping blood immediately upon the touch of the laser.

You let out a blood curdling scream, as white, hot pain seared through your body. You felt more tears trickle down your face as you attempted to look at your wrist. The skin where your signet had been was red and raw at the rough removal. Your signet was gone. Seungmin was no longer your familiar.

You screamed in agony at the pain in your heart, but also the physical pain, your eyes never leaving Seungmin’s. You watched in horror as they dragged him away, his feet dragging through the dirt. He left a trail of blood in his wake, his chest still bleeding.

You watched as Seungmin tried to say something, his lips moving, trying to form syllables. At the last moment, you were able to finally make out ‘I love you.’ You let out another sob as they dragged the only man you’ve ever trusted, ever loved, ever given yourself completely to out of your cottage into the street beyond.

You knew nothing good was in store for Seungmin. Your heart somehow knew you would never see him again. You sat in tears, broken and in pain as you tried to wrap your mind around what had just occurred. You didn’t have long to ponder, as another mob was making its way to your door.

The townspeople had gathered, their pitch forks and torches in hand as they screamed insults at you. Your mind slowly shut down as you heard

‘Dirty witch!’ ‘Evil spawn!” ‘Murderer!’

You surrendered completely, broken and in pain, as two townspeople grabbed your arms and dragged you away, down the path, and into town. You surrendered as they threw you in a cell, locking the door and throwing away the key so you could await your judgement.

None of this mattered however. Seungmin was gone from your life and your fate didn’t seem so bright. You laid down on the hard ground, using your hands as a pillow as you once more thought about where you went wrong. Suddenly you remembered the teachings from your mother, her gentle voice reminding you of the law of ancients.

‘Familiars and Witches may never be. If ever a familiar were to break there bonds of servitude by falling in love with a witch and sealing said love, the punishment be removal of being said familiar and ultimately death.’

Your heart ached at the implications, knowing you both broke the law of the witches, sealing your love with your familiar. The tears stained your face, your wails loud as you mourned your actions. You tore at your hair, scratched your arms in anguish.

You knew fate was sealed however, when you felt an odd feeling, like your heart had been cut in two. A stillness passed over you as you sat in the corner of your cell. You felt numb, your only reason for living gone from this world.

You didn’t care as you heard footsteps down the hall. You didn’t care as a man stopped in front of your cell. You didn’t care as he unlocked the door and dragged you away. You didn’t care as you walked into the bright sunlight, the light hurting your eyes. You didn’t care as you noticed the platform in front of you.

You felt your love grow stronger however, as you looked to the sky, the stars numerous and bright. You knew Seungmin was there with you, standing by your side. You knew you would both be together eternally, either on this plane or elsewhere. You smiled, despite what was to come. You felt light on your feet, your soul peaceful and calm.

You’d see him soon.

And in the end that’s all that matters.

Taglist: @jehhskz @jeonginsleftcheek @simpforleeknaur @armystay89 @palindrome969 @slut4hee @ivydoesit23 @amarecerasus @kaysungshine @fun-fanfics @baby-stay92 @seungfl0wer @velvetmoonlght

[paddockletters]

learning to drive | charles leclerc

paring: charles leclerc x reader summary: Charles decides it's time to teach you how to drive, leading to playful teasing, a heartwarming day filled with laughter, and ove author's note: none, just my request are open

Ever since I casually mentioned over dinner that I’d never learned to drive, Charles has been on a mission to poke fun at me whenever he gets the chance.

“Babe, how do you plan on surviving in Monaco without driving? The buses are not exactly your style,” he’d tease, a playful smirk tugging at his lips.

“I survive just fine with you as my chauffeur,” I always shot back, rolling my eyes but secretly loving the attention.

But today, he was determined to change that.

We were sitting at home, the sunlight streaming through the windows, when he suddenly jumped off the couch with a burst of energy.

“Alright, that’s it. We’re fixing this today,” Charles announced, grabbing his car keys.

“What? Fixing what?” I asked, confused but also slightly amused.

“Your inability to drive,” he said, flashing that cheeky grin I couldn’t resist.

“Oh no, Charles, I don’t think—”

Before I could protest, he grabbed my hand and dragged me out the door. Next thing I knew, I was sitting in the driver’s seat of his fancy sports car, feeling both excited and terrified. The leather seats smelled brand new, and everything about the car screamed speed, wealth, and Charles.

“I can’t believe I’m letting you teach me how to drive in this car,” I muttered, gripping the steering wheel.

“Relax, it’s just a car,” he said casually, sliding into the passenger seat with a smirk. “Besides, I trust you.”

His words should’ve been comforting, but when the car was worth more than an apartment in Monaco, that trust felt like a lot of pressure.

“Okay,” he started, hands gesturing to the pedals, “this is the accelerator, this is the brake. You’ve seen me do it a thousand times.”

“I know how cars work, Charles,” I retorted, giving him a playful glare. “I’m just... not sure I want to wreck this one.”

“Good, good, just checking,” he smirked. “Now, gently press on the gas…”

I did as he said, and the car jerked forward slightly. I could hear him stifling a laugh next to me.

“Smooth,” he teased. “Real smooth.”

I glared at him. “This is harder than it looks!”

“Babe, you’re driving at like, 2 km/h. We’re gonna be here all day at this rate,” he said, his tone playful.

“Do you want to walk home?” I shot back, trying to focus on keeping the car steady.

He chuckled. “Alright, alright. Let’s take it easy. You’re doing great. We’ll get you to 10 km/h in no time.”

I hesitantly pressed the accelerator, and the car jolted forward—too quickly for my liking. Charles stifled a laugh beside me, covering his mouth with his hand.

“Oh my God, don’t laugh!” I groaned, feeling heat rush to my cheeks.

“I’m not laughing, I swear!” he said, clearly lying but trying to hold it together. “You’re doing great.”

We crept forward at a snail’s pace, Charles offering pointers every few minutes. But it didn’t take long for him to start making jokes again.

“Maybe we should install a ‘Learner Driver’ sign on the back,” he teased, his eyes twinkling with mischief.

He grinned and leaned back in his seat, clearly enjoying this way too much.

“You know, for someone who’s never driven before, you’re doing surprisingly well. Maybe you’re a natural. Leclerc blood rubbing off on you.”

I couldn’t help the smile that crept onto my face. Maybe I was doing okay after all.

“Okay, let’s try turning,” he said, gesturing toward the wheel. “You can turn, right?”

“Oh, shut up,” I laughed, gripping the wheel a little too tightly as I made the slowest turn in history.

“Wow, look at that! You’re a natural!” he said, clapping his hands in mock celebration. “Next stop: the Monaco Grand Prix.”

After a few laps around the parking lot, Charles leaned over, his voice softer now. “Alright, ready for a challenge?”

I raised an eyebrow. “What kind of challenge?”

“Parking,” he said, pointing to an empty spot nearby. “Right there. Show me what you’ve got.”

I glanced at the spot. It looked impossibly small, though I knew it wasn’t. I shot him a skeptical look.

“Are you sure this is a good idea?”

“It’s the perfect idea,” he said with a wink. “And if you nail it, I’ll buy you whatever dessert you want tonight.”

“Oh, now you’re bribing me,” I muttered, rolling my eyes. But I couldn’t deny the extra motivation it gave me.

“Alright,” I said, taking a deep breath. “I’ve got this.”

Slowly, I started to pull into the spot. The car edged forward, my hands gripping the wheel tightly, my eyes focused on the lines. And then… the car stopped.

“You stalled it,” he said, his voice barely containing his amusement.

“I know!” I groaned, slumping in my seat as he burst into laughter.

“Hey, don’t worry. Even F1 drivers stall sometimes,” he said between chuckles. “But, uh, maybe not in parking lots.”

I shot him a look. “You’re the worst teacher ever.”

“But the best driver you know,” he winked, before giving me a quick kiss on the cheek.

“You were so close!” Charles exclaimed, laughing. “Come on, you’ve got this.”

I groaned, slumping back in my seat. “I’m never going to be good at this.”

He reached over, placing a hand on mine.

“Hey, you’re doing amazing. This is your first time. Do you know how many parking tickets I got when I was learning? My mom was not happy.”

I couldn’t help but laugh at the image of a younger Charles struggling with parking, despite now being one of the best drivers in the world. “Really?”

“Oh yeah. She threatened to stop letting me borrow her car if I didn’t learn to park properly,” he chuckled.

That gave me a bit more confidence. I took a deep breath and tried again, this time managing to park the car (sort of) successfully. It wasn’t perfect, but it wasn’t terrible either.

Charles grinned proudly. “There you go. I knew you had it in you.”

“Yeah, yeah, Mr. F1 driver,” I said, rolling my eyes but smiling.

He laughed and leaned over to kiss my cheek. “Next time, we’ll take you out on the road.”

My eyes widened. “You’re joking, right?”

“Nope,” he said with a grin. “But don’t worry, I’ll be right here the whole time, making fun of you.”

I laughed, feeling a mixture of excitement and terror at the idea of driving on actual streets. But with Charles by my side, I figured I might just survive.

As we sat in the car, a comfortable silence settled between us. My thoughts drifted back to when Charles had just started in Formula 1. I remember how nervous he was before his first race in Australia. He tried to hide it, but I could see right through him.

“I was so scared back then,” he admitted, reading my mind. “I was terrified I’d mess it up.”

“But you didn’t,” I said, smiling softly at him. “You were incredible.”

“I had you there,” he said, glancing over at me. “That helped.”

I blushed slightly, remembering how I’d stayed up with him the night before his first race, talking about anything and everything to calm his nerves. We talked about his childhood, how he used to race go-karts with his dad, and how much it meant to him to follow in Jules Bianchi’s footsteps.

“Do you ever miss those days?” I asked, curious.

“Sometimes,” he said, nodding. “Things were simpler then. Less pressure. But I wouldn’t trade where I am now for anything.”

“Not even for fewer teasing moments like this?” I joked.

He laughed, shaking his head. “Not even for that.”

[autolenaphilia]

One thing I noticed talking about Linux and free software is that a lot of people seem afraid of learning things about technology. I constantly read things like "I hate windows, but switching to linux would mean learning a new OS, and you have to be some super-smart programmer-hacker to do that." Or even: "Switching to firefox would mean switching browsers and I don't know how"

And that is precisely the attitude tech companies like Microsoft and Apple try to instill in their users in order to control them. They create these simple and “friendly” user interfaces for their products, but these hide information. From their OS being pre-installed to their settings apps, they keep people from learning things about how their computer works, and letting the companies make the decisions for their users.

I think people are underestimating themselves and overestimating how hard it is to learn new things are. It is like Windows/Macos have taught them some kind of technological learned helplessness. Not knowing how computers work and being afraid to learn how is how companies like Microsoft controls you, and justifies that control.

For example, people hate the forced and automatic system updates on Windows. And Microsoft justifies it as necessary because some people don’t know that their computer needs security updates and therefore don’t update, so they have to force the updates on them. That’s definitely true, and Microsoft’s tech support people is definitely very aware of that but it is a operating system that presumes that the user is incompetent and therefore shouldn’t control their own computer. And of course Microsoft abuses that power to force privacy-invading features on their users. Windows updates are also badly designed in comparison, no Linux distro I’ve used required the update program to hijack the entire computer, preventing the user from doing other things, but Windows does.

This is the dark side of “user-friendly” design. By requiring zero knowledge and zero responsibility for the user, they also take control away from the user. User-friendly graphical user interfaces (GUI) can also hide the inner workings of a system in comparison to the command line, which enables more precise control of your computer and give you more knowledge about what it is doing.

Even GUIs are not all made equal in regards to this, as the comparison between the Windows Control panel and their newer Settings app demonstrates. As I complained about before, Windows have hidden away the powerful, but complex Control Panel in favor of the slicker-looking but simplified and less powerful Settings app for over a decade now.

Of course this is a sliding scale, and there is a sensible middle-ground between using the command line for everything and user-friendly design masking taking control away from the end user.

There are Linux distros like Linux Mint and MX Linux who have created their own GUI apps for tasks that would otherwise use the command line, without taking control away from the user. This is mainly because they are open source non-profit community-driven distros, instead of being proprietary OSes made by profit-driven megacorps.

Still, giving that control to the user presumes some knowledge and responsibility on part of the user. To return to the update example, by default both Mint and MX will search and notify you of available updates, but you will have to take the decision to download and install them. Automatic updates are available in both cases, but it’s opt-in, you have to enable that option yourself. And that approach presumes that you know that you should update your system to plug security holes, something not all people do. It gives you control because it presumes you have knowledge and can take responsibility for those decisions.

All this also applies to the underlying fact that practically all pre-built computers nowadays have an operating system pre-installed. Few people install an OS themselves nowadays, instead they use whatever came with the computer. It’s usually either Windows or MacOS for desktops/laptops, and Android/IOS for smartphones (which are also a type of computer).

Now all this is very convenient and user-friendly, since it means you don’t have to learn how to install your own operating system. The OEM takes care of that for you. But again, this is a convenience that takes choice away from you. If you don’t learn how to install your own OS, you are stuck with whatever that is on the computer you bought. It’s probably precisely this step that scares people away from Linux, few people have installed even Windows, and installing your own OS seems impossibly scary. But again, learning is the only way to take back control. If you learn how to install an OS off an USB stick, you now have choices in what OS to use. (Sidenote: the hard part IMO is not the actual install process, but fiddling with the BIOS so it will actually boot from the distro on the USB stick. This old comic strip illustrates this very well).

That’s how life is in general, not just computers. Having control over your life means making decisions based on your own judgment. And to make sensible, rational decisions, you have to learn things, acquire knowledge.

The only other alternative is letting others take those decisions for you. You don’t have to learn anything, but you have no control. And in the tech world, that means big corporations like Microsoft, Google and Apple will make those decisions, and they are motivated by their own profits, not your well-being.

Computers have only become more and more capable and more important in our lives, and that can enable wonderful things. But it also means more power to the tech companies, more power over our lives. And the only way to resist that is to learn about computers, to enable us to make our own decisions about how we use technology.

[sunafc]

Caught in the web – 4, don't freak out

masterlist

• • •

No time like the present, right? Y/n repeated that in her mind like a mantra as she made her way to Suna’s window, in her spiderman suit, to reveal the truth to him.

She had seen Suna’s room a few times now, never from outside the window though (he lived on the fourth floor so it’s not like you could peek inside just by passing by the building).

He’s laying on the bed, mindlessly scrolling through his phone, probably watching silly tiktoks he would then send to the twins. She smiles at the thought and then knocks lightly on the glass, trying not to startle him too much. That doesn’t work, it’s not like you would expect someone — and spiderman of all people — to knock on your window at night.

Suna snaps his head towards the window so fast she thinks he could’ve sprained his neck and his phone gets thrown in the air.

‘Sorry,’ she says, not really sure if she can even be heard from inside. She watches him pick up his phone and hastily type on his phone for a few seconds while stealing glances at the window from time to time, to check she wouldn’t disappear.

Y/n knocks on the glass again and waves at him. He makes his way to the window warily and opens it, moving to the side to let the hero inside.

‘Thank you,’ the girl says dropping inside the room, her voice swapped with a fake one by the device Kenma installed in her mask so that people would not recognize her, ‘I was starting to think you would never let me in,’ she jokes.

Suna is speechless, standing in the middle of his room, not sure if what is happening is a dream or real life. Spiderman is in his room.

‘What are you doing in my room?’ Suna asks, almost in a whisper, almost scared that talking out loud could make the hero disappear or wake him up from his dream.

No time like the present, ‘I need to tell you something,’ (with that Suna is pretty sure this is a prophetic dream).

‘Me?’ Suna asks in disbelief, ‘You, the spiderman, has to tell me something?’ He thinks he’s finally going insane. All the studying and all the volleyball practices or maybe all the chuppets he ate finally got to him. Then he stops and it’s like a light bulb lit up in his mind, ‘Wait you know me?!’ His eyes are wide and he opens his mouth a few times just close it again without saying anything, ‘Oh my god,’ and it seems like he’s realizing everything now, ‘It’s real,’ he says, ‘You’re here, in my room,’ he sits down on the edge of his bed and then quickly gets up again, ‘Spiderman is in my room,’ his fingers run through his hair, ‘It’s real,’ he says again. He’s freaking out.

Y/n lets out a chuckle and grabs Suna’s hands — he feels like air got trapped in his lungs — ‘Hey, calm down,’ she says softly — but how could he, really? This is everything he ever wanted, his unattainable crush is in his room — ‘Take off my mask,’ she lets go of his hands.

Suna stands still for a moment, ‘What?’

‘Take off my mask,’ the girl repeats.

Suna got it the first time, though it seemed like his brain could not process the words, ‘No, I can’t,’ — this gains a laugh from Y/n.

She’s pretty sure she heard Suna say multiple times he wanted to find out who spiderman was, and now that he had the chance to he didn't want to. This was getting kind of fun, Y/n knew Suna liked spiderman but she didn’t think it was this bad. Suna had always been a quiet and calm person, quite the analytical person too. It was endearing to see this new side of him.

‘I’ll help you, then,’ Y/n grabbed the thin fabric of the mask and the base of her neck, ‘Don’t freak out too much, okay?’ She reveals half or her face by resting the mask on the bridge of her nose, ‘Hi,’ she says, and this time, without the mask in front of her, Suna can hear her actual voice. It’s oddly familiar and it takes him a split second to realize who it belongs to.

‘What the fuck,’ he mumbles taking a step closer, ‘It’s you?’ He holds the mask between his fingers and slides it off completely, ‘Oh my god,’ and then everything makes sense. The way she always had something coming up, how she would disappear sometimes or run away as soon as practice was over, the way when she left during the match was as the same time spiderman showed up at the bank, ‘What the fuck,’ he repeats, his two crushes were now one. His unattainable, unrealistic crush was now his friend and neighbor who could be, maybe, attainable. His friend is spiderman. The manager of his volleyball team. His neighbor. His heart is beating out of his chest and his hands are starting to sweat a little, he feels like he can’t move.

‘Don’t freak out,’ she looks at him, furrowing her brow, ‘Are you freaking out?’

‘Don’t freak out– You’re spiderman!’ He throws his arms in the air and his voice comes out a little higher than normal, ‘Of course I’m freaking out Y/n, what the fuck!’

He frantically grabs his phone and he types something hurriedly. The girl gets a glimpse of his group chat and she swiftly steals the phone from his hands with one of her spiderwebs — receiving a startled look from her friend — ‘Don’t text the twins, oh my god!’

‘Don’t steal my stuff!’ Suna scoffs, ‘That was cool though,’ he holds your wrist and turns it around to look at it from every angle, ‘How does this even work?’

notes:

– the first chat is when y/n gets suna's phone and tells him to not text the twins btw

– then all the other chats are later when y/n went back home

– suna is still freaking out actually

– atsumu is way too curious and he's dying TO KNOW

– osamu is a bit curious too but also very very tired and just wants to sleep

– suna asked y/n so many questions like the little nerd he is

– when y/n left to go back home suna was So Sad

– as always if there are typos in the written part.. my bad 😭 i always leave something behind

taglist: @loveelylacey @mysteriousballer1na @loveliepa @wyrcan @lilchubbyyy @strxwberri-s @kitnootkat @yuminako @lovsvinny @punkhazardlaw @alexrin115 @hyenagoated @httpakkeiji @garfieldissocool @phoenix-eclipses @honeyfewr @dieforleclerc @tooru-bread @atsumuenthusiast @hycuye @le000xxgrd @canthavetoomuchchaos @neuviloved @lcvemiyuki @dazqa @itsdragonius @nyxlai @aboveasphodel @walllflowerrrsss @thepurpleempath @livixxn @futuristicxie @itsmiyamore @gsyche @zzzlevislothzzz @kitskasoboring @naweirdo @oneiratxxia10 @nishayuro @perinferii @piapiaweee3 @tojirin

those in pink could not be tagged :(

to be added to the taglist let me know with a comment or an ask!! <3

[maggstar]

𝐔𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐥 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐃𝐚𝐲 𝐈 𝐃𝐢𝐞

───────────────────⊹⊱✫⊰⊹────────────────────

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠: 18+, mni DNI!

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: 365 days since the incident, in which Heeseung's life turned upside down, is today. Will he be able to save her this time?

𝐆𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: smut, hard angst, veryyy emotional, trauma bonding/coping, cop!Hee (injured reader, guns, shooting, kidnapping, violence, death) kissing, biting, marking, handjob, oral (f. receiving) , fingering, vanilla, very intimiate and loving unprotected s3x, missionary, spooning, lotus.

!!!TW: ED, suicidal thoughts, mentioned attempts, s3lf harm (both characters)

𝐖𝐂: 21k+ (ehm..., yea)

𝐀/𝐍: Finally. It is here. this one is for ♡ anon. ily. I want to say I loved writing this whole fic even though it was emotionally difficult. I wrote about heavy topics, so please be aware before reading as this might not be everyone's cup of tea! Both characters are in pretty messed up mental states, but their love to each other is what keeps them going. I hope you guys enjoy this fic as I never put this much effort into any fic before.

Please leave any sort of feedback: reblogging and commenting is the best for me, so let me know!! ───────────────────⊹⊱✫⊰⊹────────────────────

As Heeseung approached the town, he immediately recognized the steep, rocky road that led to the street of his most ominous memories. Despite the passing of a year, everything remained the same. The familiar layout felt like coming home after years of being abroad. In a way, he had been. 

He found it amusing how visiting his past brought such mixed feelings. Given how messed up things were before his departure, he was afraid to face all the negative emotions. Merely thinking about the events crawled an uncanny sensation. 

Yet, here he was, letting the comforting sentimentality alight on his heart and beam at the faint breeze entering through his window as he soaked up the evocative atmosphere. It had a hint of gloom as the rain amplified with his reappearance, making the ominous night colder than usual. Goosebumps took over his body, observing the surroundings while the car shifted its gear to neutral. 

The park was abandoned at this time, reminiscing on the children's laughter in the evenings, playing for hours without a care. He liked to come there after work, sit for a few minutes, and listen to them. They still had the monkey bars and pirate-themed wooden ship in the middle of the playground, which he helped paint. 

He examined the residences next to his old one, all appearing the same. Looking at the colorful houses with picturesque gardens pierced an arduous nostalgia. A few had undergone reconstructions as the previous owners seemed to have parted. 

Some even had new furniture or repainting, their garages containing bigger and more luxurious vehicles. New additions like swings or slides for children were also notable. A small number of areas were also seemingly building new homes for the future, expanding the population in the tainted town.

With a glance beside, he examined the house he spent his student years in. 

"Would you look at that," he scoffed, studying the untouched exterior, still covered in that sensational buttermilk paint. 

Even the pecan concrete tiles on the roof were there, with additional solar panels. The current owners also installed a masonry chimney to the side - something he had always wished for but couldn't afford. 

They were definitely more knowledgeable in Botanics than he was. The garden looked completely different. The condition Heeseung left it in was atrocious, with dead flowers and dried weeds scattering the place. Zora Neale Hurston once quoted: "Trees and plants always look like the people they live with." He didn't know if this disclosure was comical or tragic, heavily soughing instead. 

Currently, the place had more of a Japanese style: a little lake in the middle underneath beautiful white lotuses. Oak and cherry trees surrounded the layout, whereas perfectly cut bonsai trees greeted passers-by in the front. The family likely had their roots there because it was uncommon to opt for this type in this area. Yet again, he was inexperienced in this topic, so who was he to say anything? 

He sighed, lowering his head to take a deep breath to process all the garnering memories reaching the surface from the seabed. It was bound to happen, and he still didn't manage to prepare for it. 

Back then, there was too much weight on his shoulders. From college to his family, there was only so much a teenager could handle. 90% of his memories were the ones he sincerely wished to omit evermore. He didn't want to rub salt into his wounds by reliving them, aiming to concentrate on the better side.

After all, it was this place he achieved and lost everything at once. The city that welcomed the lost pup with open arms after the death of his parents, soothing with empty promises and fraudulent head pats. 

Back then, he was too naive to differentiate malicious intentions, foolishly jumping onto every proposition. He thought people wanted to help and not take advantage of his incapacity, that they would aid the broken one with the loving words he needed. 

Fundamentally, he was an emotional wreck, emptiness and numbness following him all day. 

There wasn't anyone left in his life, just miscellaneous pictures gathered in a photo album and recollections of happy moments in carton boxes. Going through their belongings hurt more than anything, smudging their smiles with tears and repeated callouts to which no one could respond anymore. 

In other words, it was the worst period of his life.

His nights were established on puffy eyes, a terrible headache, and a stuffy nose, suffering in silence for months. The money he was supposed to spend on food went to tissues, trashing the whole place. Getting up in the mornings was incredibly demanding, failing often at convincing himself. Staying in and laying in his PJs permanently tolled more promising.

No one seemed to care about his late arrival to classes anyway. The teachers were the exclusive individuals, questioning his defect of attendance and interest. They often came to various false conclusions. They didn't consider asking for the real reason behind his struggles at handing in assignments and essays on time without lying to dodge admonitions. 

In the same way, no one doubted the sunglasses he wore every day. They assumed it was part of a fashion trend when, in reality, it was an excuse to hide the redness and semicircle exhaustion. 

The clothes that fit him weeks ago began loosening, appearing enormous on his underweight body. When his friends pointed out his lack of appetite during lunch, he put it behind him and led the conversation in another direction. That way, he felt he had control over reality. 

In reality, he knew it was avoidance. He wasn't ready to concede he was struggling. Something wasn't alright, and he deteriorated with each passing day. 

Reminiscing on the past, optimistic Heeseung wearing a warming smile mirrored the numb motionlessness, not containing enough confidence to face the drastic and tragic change.

The only courageous people were the Choi family. 

He turned his head to the left, catching a glimpse of the elderly couple sitting at the table inside their closed terrace. They were laughing and enjoying dinner, accompanied by two other people, handing out the freshly grilled food on their plates. A little boy was attending the meal as well, gesturing widely. He leaned forward to examine the guests, scanning their faces. For some reason, they were so familiar...

"No way," a gasp forsake, realizing that turn of events. 

The handsome, tall young man with an athletic build was no other than Choi Hyun-woo, the son of the married pair. Heeseung facepalmed himself for taking so long to figure out his identity, doubting his dexterities.

His parents had introduced the two after a few weeks of Heeseung visiting. Around that time, he was in a custody battle with his dangerous wife. That adjective was an understatement when considering her malicious threats. They were predominantly about hurting their son if he didn't leave her alone or running away with him.

That wasn't the only crazy part. The more unsettling information he learned, the more he feared for the safety of the small boy. Besides being mentally unstable, she also struggled with psychosis. The doctors warned her countless times, but she didn't reflect on any of their words when entering a new relationship. If anyone was the victim in this situation, it was Hyun-woo. 

Seeing them reunited was all he could have ever wished for them, smiling at the cheerful sight. 

"Thank you for being here for us, Heeseung. We just want you to know we're also here for you," he could hear the oldster sighing while patting his back, sensing the weariness from the mere flicker.

"We're all humans in the end. Even the strongest ones cannot lift the weight the world pushes on us." The stogie burned further whenever he would take a whiff, passing it on for a moment of peace.

"Life hasn't been easy on you, has it?" the bearded man turned to face the youngster, quietly sitting and observing the night sky. 

"No, sir, it hasn't," he took the long roll of tobacco to try it out, analyzing its shape and thickness.

"Pretending to be happy when you're in pain is an example of how strong you are as a person, Lee."

"Never doubt your strength, you hear me?" he repeatedly swung his index finger to reprimand him. 

"Yessir," Heeseung nodded before inhaling the cigar, not foreseeing its power. On the other hand, the veteran couldn't help but enjoy the outcome, laughing as he expectorated. 

"How can you smoke this?" he punched his chest numerous times to get the bubble of smoke out of his system. 

"Times were different back in my days. We had nothing else."

"Still..."

"Do one thing for me," the senior flipped the page, taking another load and slowly exhaling a white cloud into the cold fall night. Heeseung faced him after successfully getting rid of the awful irritation in his throat. He sat there, waiting for another round of sagacious words from the wise man. 

"Don't give up. Whatever it takes, don't give up, son. Even when you feel like there's no purpose, don't because nothing lasts forever. It will get better."

It was those words that made Heeseung push through the days. It was almost unbelievable how much of an impact it had on him. Never in a million years would he have thought a motivational speech could get him back on his feet. Then again, he never gave anyone a chance to see behind his facade.

Although they were the ones who required assistance, Heeseung ended up receiving all of the help. 

"Have you eaten? No? That's unacceptable! Come over as soon as you're done with school!"

Mrs. Choi's disappointment still rang through his ears, envisioning her in her French kitchen with a spatula in her hand. It was a vista he missed, alongside the delectable smell of her exceptional cooking.

She constantly checked on him, calling once his school was over and asking if he needed anything. Cooking him meals became a habit whenever he stopped by to help in the garden, practically shoving packets of food into his chest. She knew it wasn't much, but for Heeseung, it meant the world. Knowing that someone actually appreciated his company and cared about his well-being without solely thinking about theirs was unknown. 

So unknown that in the beginning, he assumed the lunch boxes in his backpack ended up by accident and that Mrs. Choi had mixed it up. 

That's how messed up people have been to him that his mind found it unbelievable. Every bit of aid had to have a twisted meaning behind it because why would anyone care about him? No one was there when he was bereaved. No one came to say their condolences or ask if he was alright. It was just him in the columbarium as he placed the ceramic pot with the last remains of his loved ones into the repository. The sole visitor on his free days, leaving the deceased ones' favorite snacks underneath their memorial. He was the boy the guard always had to wake up and send home. 

"It's just thee, thy, and thou, huh?"

"Yes, Mr. Choi."

It is how he achieved his dream and became a successful officer and the person he is now. 

All the hardships and woes he underwent in his early adulthood built up the future he worked for without resting. The mornings and nights would meld into one, struggling to distinguish AM from PM. Around that time, his coffee intake started slipping out, and he tried out every possibility to stay awake and finish everything. 

So much he had to do in such little time. Heeseung didn't understand how he finished it, but his body did. It was giving up, slowly but gradually, because he wouldn't stop pushing the limits. He thought he could do more each time, twisting the meaning of "just a bit more."

One day, the strings finally tore off, and his body had enough. 

Without looking back, it gave in. It handed in the shattered pieces of his soul to the unknown, streaming down like a feather. Nothing had left within, no recollections to reflect on his actions. All his hopes had dashed, molding his fears into a vase of entrapment. The more he tried to climb out of the well, the deeper he fell back, the walls elevating. He screamed into the darkness, the exclamations reflecting due to the scarcity of allowance. 

The next thing you know, he woke up in an unfamiliar and cold environment, with doctors coming in and out. They kept asking various questions and filling out some forms before leaving. The 

He expected the nurses checking up on him now and then to answer the question marks in his head, watching them flush the tube in his nostrils.

It was when he opened his mouth to ask about it that one of the nurses responded, explaining its essential purpose.

She called it "Nasogastric tube feeding". A line delivering nutrients directly into his stomach through his nose. Heeseung kept listening while the woman cleaned the skin around his nose with a warm washcloth, describing his situation. 

Apparently, he had been in the ICU for a few days, and the doctors ran various tests to unravel his deficiencies. The stats showed the deceleration of cardiac activity, leading to low heart rate and blood pressure. They also mentioned low body temperature, which Heeseung had been battling for centuries. It exemplified why he felt faint and weak all the time. Maybe it even answered his apathy toward life.

The results of his BMI indicated severe underweight, whereas the blood test showcased micronutrient imbalances. Heeseung couldn't fathom all of the details his doctor kept streaming, closing his eyes in a vain attempt to ignore the consequences of his stubbornness and lack of eating. 

Not only did he have to wear a plastic tube, but he also had to talk with dietologists and healthcare professionals to make changes in his life.  

Heeseung loathed it and didn't listen to anything they had to offer because, in his mind, he had already decided what was best for him. Suggestions like attending occupational therapy gave him a laugh, not comprehending the reason for such an absurd and useless alternative. There was still a belief that everything was alright, and the situation was being blown out of proportion. 

Even after all that information, he refused to accept reality. If he did, he would have to reconcile with his aggravating condition and shape. He would have to acknowledge how bad the situation was. That if he didn't take action now, it could end terribly. 

And Heeseung wasn't prepared to admit it aloud. Admit he had been suffering for so long that he lost track of days because they began blending into one endless loop where he couldn't live in peace. Confess the terrible feelings of hopelessness, loneliness, and emptiness. The feeling that he woke up to bypass that motivating bright sun hiding behind those dark, self-destructive clouds. The ones which slowly perished his soul.

Disclose the deep yearning for love, tenderness, and affection lingering in his sore throat. Reveal the hope to knit his tattered heart, wrapping around his neck so delicately that he didn't want it to stop. Divulge the need to end everything trussing in the back of his head, increasing whenever an obstacle occurred, doubting everything about himself. Concede the crossing between life and death, questioning the meaning of existence. 

Relent that the word suicide kept repeating in his mind like an old cassette player, seeing the curse inscribed over everything. Allow the guilt to take over and condemn him for leaning towards the balcony whenever it whispered the word "jump". It conveyed it so alluringly that it made him go crazy, holding onto the railings in pure despair. 

Describe how sharp blades appeared veracious. Explain why he deleted the Google search history to hide the questions on overdoes. 

He wasn't ready, but he had to be. Otherwise, he would ultimately lose himself in the hollowness and disperse forever. 

So, he decided to bite the bullet and push through by turning the page.

Thanks to his determination, he could now sit in a police car and help those in need. Do a job where he could be the person he needed others to be at his lowest. 

There had been one. However, Heeseung was forbidden from ever thinking about that person. 

Why? Because he made the biggest mistake of his life, which he atoned for till today.

A beautiful mistake that he deeply missed every hour, every minute, every second.

"Dispatch to Patrol One," the sudden statistic transmitted through the two-way radio, pulling back the officer from daydreaming. 

"10-04," he quickly responded, grabbing the transmitter and acknowledging the callsign. 

"Are you alright, sir?" the worry conveyed, belonging to none other than Seo-Jun. 

"Yes," He sighed, resting his head on the steering wheel. 

"Sir, pardon me, but you don't sound like it," the young officer evoked, tentative about probing her senior. 

She could hear him repeat the proverb: "Curiosity killed the cat." It wasn't her best trait, and she knew it. It was always these times she couldn't help but push it forward and let concern get the better of her. 

After all, it was Lee Heeseung, the guy who managed to turn her life over. 

If he hadn't helped her escape from her toxic ex-boyfriend last summer, she wouldn't be sitting in the obsolete office now. She was lucky to dial 112 in time and come out alive. If he had been a few minutes late, she could have suffered to death from the undying abuse. The memory was deeply engraved in the depth of her heart, recalling him standing by her side during the hospital procedures. He never wanted to admit it, but he was the town's hero for saving the mayor's daughter. 

Therefore, her gratitude towards him was prodigious. And for the same reason, she wanted to be there for him during tough times. No matter how hard she tried, her approach would emerge unsuited and unfit each time. People told her to get ahold of her steps countless times, and she still made the same slips every time. Nevertheless, she didn't give up and reached out to dial the official. 

"Seo-Jun, I-"

"My apologies, sir. I've crossed my line," she hastily tried to cover up her actions, slapping her forehead for being nosy and pushy. 

"I'm not okay," the voice on the other side emitted into the discomfiting silence, a heavy sigh following the statement. Seo-Jun opened her eyes to perceive the sentence, staring at the floor beneath her as the declaration reiterated in her brain. She widened her pupils when she finally realized what he had uttered, almost falling off her chair after swiftly turning and grabbing back the radio. 

"Sir, is this about the note you've received?"

"What note?" he frowned, backing up. 

"Well, you've got a message on your account, and you know it goes through me first, so I might have accidentally read what was on it-"

"What note are you talking about?" The stern change in speech startled her, contemplating if it was due to her admitting her horrible demeanor or the want of information. 

"The one that states: Broadway 123, 11:30 PM," she reread the email, stuffing her mouth with another strawberry-flavored lollipop. At this point, it was a miracle her teeth hadn't fallen out yet. 

"Any signatures?"

"Just two initials: K.J."

Heeseung's stomach dropped at the revelation, which only confirmed his prior thoughts. It was the 13th of March, after all. What was he thinking?

He looked at the time on the display, typing in the coordinates to the navigation. It showed an estimated arrival in 15 minutes. His jaw clenched, attempting to pulverize the inexhaustible alarm ringing in his skull.

"Fuck, why didn't you tell me earlier?" his panic disseminated into anger, hastily starting up the car. He grabbed the gearstick, his leg pressing the accelerator. 

"I'm sorry, sir. I thought you knew about it."

"You know goddamn well I never check my email," he shifted to 3rd gear already, turning on the emergency lights on the car. They switched from one color to the other, the sound of sirens following right after every blick. 

"I'm really sorry, sir, but what does it even tell? It sounds dangerous."

"Cause it is," Heeseung cut her off, "and that's why you should have told me earlier." 

Seo-jun's voice went quiet, the time on the call prolonging without either side speaking. 

She had nothing to say, as she realized the severity of her actions. 

Frankly, she had difficulty understanding the whole situation and why it aggravated Heeseung this much. She stared at the email, trying to find a hidden clue or something that would cure her curiosity. 

Despite her attempts, she ended with disappointment, leaning back on the chair with a loud sigh. 

She turned her head to the side while Heeseung turned his back on the road, which was moderately clean, with no traffic jams preventing him from reaching his destination. Most cars quickly reacted to the situation and pulled to the side of the road. 

He looked in the rear mirror, seeing a silhouette sitting in the backseat with blood all over her face, a faded smile visible. 

"Help her, I beg you," The voice echoed in his ears as he made a left, entering the mentioned street. 

He fought the unwanted shakiness in his body, the sentence replaying like a broken cassette, causing him to break down the walls he had built in the past months.

He had to be more collected. His duty was to stay calm under pressure and not to invoke panic, but here he was, gripping the wheel too much. His nails began to hurt from the prolonged force, eyes ungluing from the road for a split second. He looked at his image in the mirror, sensing a faint taste of blood. There, he could see the deep cut on his lip, his teeth responsible for choosing the wrong coping mechanism. 

He could also see the same hopeless look as the one on that day, anger building up from within to curse him for being a wreck in such a crucial situation again. The consequences of it taunted him, internally punching him for his incompetence. An officer who couldn't control his emotions was the same one trying to rescue someone. He couldn't even stop himself from deteriorating, and here he was, seeking to thwart others.

It was all foolish, just like he was at this moment. 

What a fool he was for wanting a chance to right the wrongs. 

Without a second thought, Heeseung immediately parked near the reported location, practically jumping out of the car. He checked if his gun was locked and loaded again before heading out. 

He looked around, eyes looking for potential gang associates in the surroundings. He expected at least some bodyguards or watchdogs near the building, but no one was around. Grabbing his flashlight, he took an overhand grip, shortening the distance to the building with each cautious but fast step. 

The residence was outdated, definitely abandoned by the looks of its upkeep. What seemed like a factory was now an empty, deserted residence. No one had visited this place for a long time. 

He approached the door, reaching the porch to see if anything was happening inside. 

The front door was locked from the other side, the darkness concealing the image inside. Heeseung had to go through the back to enter, listening for any noise on his way. It was too quiet for his liking, not a single peep emanating from the residence. He climbed over the wire fence, sucking up the pain the metal left after puncturing his skin. 

Nothing was more important than reaching inside.

He did suspect the message, wondering if it was another prank pulled by the bored teenagers. Sadly, it happened quite too often, with them lining up the emergency number and creating false stories to bring out the hirelings for their entertainment.

Still, none of them knew about his past, so the chances were nearly impossible. Not even his colleagues knew why he decided to take a day off today. They had zero keen on why this day was so important for him. They had no idea it was this day that turned his life around.

He took a position behind the wall as he glanced for the back door, peeking out carefully. To his surprise, it was wide open, bestowing him an entrance. 

He approached it slowly, looking out for a possible intruder since the unusual stillness wasn't preventing the tension in his muscles from stiffening. When he met no obstacles, he determined it was clear to proceed, stepping inside.

The uneven concrete underneath welcomed him back, permitting a path towards the middle. Just like last time, he thought to himself, before approaching the cursed center. 

Here.

It all happened here.

It was where he found Seo-Jun. Right here. 

He could see the silhouette in the wooden chair, bound by duct tape. He could still feel the hopelessness and helplessness.

A supposed rescue mission turned into a shootout, in which he had zero back-ups to overcome the opponents. 6v1, and Heeseung barely came out alive, with one bullet shot in his right arm. The female he was supposed to save bled out on the spot because of fatal injuries, and there was nothing he could do to help her. He tried so hard to stop the bleeding and apply as much pressure as he could in his injured condition. All just to witness her slowly part away in his arms with a painful "thank you".

Heeseung blamed himself for her death till today. After all, he was the one to blame for it. That's what her parents kept repeating.

"Murderer! It was your job to protect her!"

"She's dead because of you!"

"It should have been you who died, not her!"

They were right. 

He agreed with everything they said. It was the truth. He had failed, and there was nothing he could do to bring her back. 

Nightmares of the terror night practically became the fairytale of his sleep. He would wake up drenched in sweat, pushing himself to successfully save her in his dreams. He was so close but so far away at the same time. 

It was all humorous. How returning to this unfortunate place stirred the wrong memories. How it managed to discern the familiar gut-wrenching feeling in his system. The one he had to take medication for every day to keep his head clear. To stop seeing the silhouettes of her everywhere. 

"Seo-Jun, don't do this to me," his head dropped to his feet, refusing to reexperience his trauma. 

"You're not here anymore," he bit down on his lip, gulping down the ascending guilt.

"But it's not me, Heeseung." 

His eyes rose, staring at the silhouette. They struggled to decipher the person in front of them, barely having the energy to stay open. 

He stepped closer, his heavy steps echoing through the enormous vacant room. He was expecting it to disappear as it was a part of his imagination. However, it stayed there, clear as a day.  

It was her.

Not her her, but her.

The voice that haunted him every night in his nightmares. The one that begged him to save her sister from those psychopaths, putting the last bits of hope into him. The screams replayed in his nightmares when he had come out with her sister in his arms, barely holding the victim as he was close to passing out himself. They soon turned into weeps, coughing up the pain in her system, unable to stop her body from shaking at the sight of her sibling in agonizing pain. 

He remembered the way she looked up at him while the paramedics carried her inside the ambulance, face covered in shock and desperation. 

It was as if both knew the outcome awaiting them in the hospital, not prepared to admit the painful reality. They wanted to pretend like they didn't know, even if it was only for a minute. 

He recalled her running after the car, legs giving out in the middle, getting up over and over again without thinking twice about the damage on her knees. 

The same pain he felt back then kicked in right now, pounding into his stomach because despite disappointing her, she was the one who checked up on him in the ER. She was the only person who turned up. The only one worried about his condition, holding in the tears.

"I know my sister was glad someone tried. That someone cared and wanted to save her."

"I'm happy to know that the last face she saw was yours and not those bastards'."

"Mr. Lee, thank you. Thank you for everything."

Despite everything, she said those words to him, managing to smile at him before leaving. He felt her release the painful ache through the door, mourning for the lost one as the hospital tiles created a path stained with sorrow. 

"It's your chance, Heeseung."

"To do what you couldn't with me."

He looked around to glimpse a ghost of Seo-Jun, to believe it was all real and not a part of his disturbed imagination. 

But she was nowhere to be found. 

It was Y/N instead, encircled by the cause of her sister's death.

The same person he stopped visiting every day after the incident, too thoughtless to leave her all alone in that big city while the perpetrators roamed around freely. 

He thought it would have been for the better to give her space to grieve properly, without him appearing at the door to remind her of the incident. 

She never complained, though, but rather showed her gratitude for the concern, not managing to function alone with her parents passing on their sadness to her. 

It was a difficult time for her to be in, especially alone. That's why Heeseung's presence brought her the peace and comfort she needed. He helped her move out her sister's furniture, going as far as to seclude a deal to sell the apartment so the family could have a proper funeral, which he ended up attending himself. 

Her parents weren't exactly hiding their anger at his presence at such a personal event, holding him accountable for the happening of the ceremony. 

However, she was the one who had invited him. She chewed their disapproval and asked him to stay beside her. She needed someone to hold on during the event, both mentally and physically, thankful for his hand lingering on hers as she watched her other half disappear into the ground. 

He stayed with her for a long time after that, coming every morning to help her get out of bed and get ready for the day, becoming her caregiver for the following weeks. 

She was suffering inside, and he could tell by her blankly staring into the walls, movements so slow it looked like it hurt. It was difficult to convince her to eat, noticing the loss in appetite she kept ignoring, blaming it on her stomach troubles. 

Nonetheless, she never protested when he wanted to feed her, always cooking or ordering something from outside. She felt like a baby in those moments, with him practically begging her to open her mouth, putting a smile on her face instead. 

They talked a lot over those weeks, with Heeseung opening up about his past and traumatic childhood, sharing the fragments of his parent's death and how it has affected him. He talked about the car accident, the one he was also in. He was the sole survivor, the sole person to exit the hospital and not be transferred into the morgue.

He had never told anyone before, and conveying the lingering heartache was such a relief that he couldn't stop talking, gathering up every detail he had in his memories. 

In a way, it connected the two more, having gone through the tragedy of losing a loved one. Y/N couldn't help but notice the feeling of safety in his company. The more he transmitted, the closer she felt, like she could trust him with her whole life.

While she was fully aware of the effects he was having on her, Heeseung was too busy focusing on her condition to catch the sparkles of joy. 

Whenever she opened the door to him, he couldn't help but beam. His heart would fill up with contentment, dopamine levels increasing at the brief touches they shared, hiding the butterflies amassing inside. It was wrong for him to catch feelings after everything he caused her, and the guilt expanded in his chest at the realization.

Unfortunately, he wasn't the only one who had caught up on the situation. Soon enough, her parents personally contacted him and asked to meet without their daughter's knowledge. They were the real reason for his departure, the why for abandoning her when she needed him the most. 

He never had the opportunity to tell her the truth, to tell her he didn't go on his will but was forced into that decision. He wished he could have told her he was threatened with being sued and losing his career forever due to their belief about his negligence on the mission. Either that or he had to leave her alone and go as far away as possible if he didn't want his life to be over. 

That is what he meant when he said he was a coward: a coward who couldn't even tell the truth. It followed him wherever he went, the mere image of her constantly transmitting in his thoughts.  

And now, the image was trapped in another nightmare with little time, falling into his hands yet again. 

This wasn't how he wanted to meet up, but fate had its way of managing things. The only thing Heeseung knew was that he couldn't let her down again. 

She had to come out of here alive.

No matter what it would take.

"You came," a raspy voice loomed from the darkness, causing Heeseung to hastily stand up and point his gun at its origin. 

His stomach dropped when he locked gazes with the criminal. 

"Kang Joon-Woo."

"It is I indeed," he fixed his tie covered in a fleur de lis pattern, showing off his wealth in the black tuxedo. His auburn slick hair drew attention to his green eyes, which turned stone cold once his gaze landed on the officer in front. They were empty, vacant, without any emotion. It was like staring into a deep well at night, manifesting fright and unpleasantness. 

"It's a pleasure to meet you again, Mr. Lee." his silver crown shone as the moonlight sheathed his face, lowering his head before looking back at him again. He exuded the same stare that day, slicing through deeply and threatening with its lethal power. 

Kang Joon-Woo, one of the lead rings of the cooperation of Kang Holding, was the chairman and the mastermind of the whole operation a year ago. Kang Jun-Seo was his right hand, more like a lap dog. 

They were both known criminals in the district he used to work in, successful businessmen who led one of the most influential companies in the city. They ran many hotels scattered over the country, using them as a front to conceal their actual intents by managing and commencing new deals. 

Beneath the surface, they hid several classified secrets, ordering various exchanges between dangerous parties. Some reports revealed drug usage and distribution, contacts with the black market, and even active participation on the deep web.

However, their main focus was on sex trafficking, exploiting young women for their income. It has been going on for many years, with the two predators selling out females to different countries, motivated by the big numbers on the cheque. They were both aware of how these girls would end up, forced to become objects for whoever had bought them. That was the twisted part in itself. The fact that the two went off to doing this.

He found out himself when he got ordered to take over one of these cases since the department had a lead and had a high chance of uncovering the trafficker's location, hopeful about the retrieval. So was Heeseung, especially after the Chief of Police had picked him out personally for the case along with two other ambitious corporals as the sergeant was sick that week, unable to operate. It was his biggest chance to prove himself and stand out amongst his coworkers. 

"Months of searching, and now I have you both at my feet," the snarky laugh punctured through.

"What have you done to her?" Heeseung looked back at Y/N from the corner of his eye, unable to bypass her drugged state. He knew he had to act before it was too late, struggling to piece a plan together at the revelation. 

"I just gave her some candy. You know the ones that bring you to another dimension?" he pulled out a pack of Arrirangs from his pockets, finding the whole situation hilarious. It was uproarious to watch the terror in Heeseung's eyes, darting from the girl back to him. 

"You fucker," Heeseung quickly hovered over her, checking her pulse and breathing. 

"Calm down," he scoffed in amusement, taking a whiff of the toxic elements his body lacked. "I need her to be alive as well." 

"What do you want?"

"Come on, Heeseung. You're smart enough to know," a sigh parted in the heavy ambiance, playing with the cigar between his fingers.

"You know goddamn well someone has to pay for the losses you caused on that day."

"Leave her out of it. She has done nothing."

"Who called you on us?"

"She did the right thing. They just chose the wrong officer."

"Fucking pathetic indeed. You couldn't even save her in the end, could you?" the man burst into laughter, brushing back his hair. He was loving every second of this.

"Since you failed to save her. Now, we need someone to replace her place."

"Jun-Seo was thinking about this beauty right here, but I told him it was too dangerous. Didn't I, brother?"

Heeseung froze at the callout, feeling the mentioned one's presence behind him. He also felt the weapon pointed at his head, threatening to be blasted at a slight movement. Every possible curse flashed in his mind, all pointing towards him.

He was screwed.

"Drop it," the baritone ordered. 

Before he could even look at the famous criminal, the man punched him in his back, amplifying his directive. Heeseung had no other option but to comply, slowly placing his gun on the floor. The guy immediately kicked away the weapon, far away from their reach. He stood there with his hands aloft, looking back at the man ahead.

"And what did I also say?" his tongue clicked, putting on a pair of black leather gloves.

"To have her, we must get rid of the cop."

"That's right." He snickered, approaching the injured girl. 

"Poor girl, she has no idea what's happening," his fingers wrapped around her neck, snickering at the beauty. He turned her face to the side, his filthy eyes scanning her features.

"Don't touch her!" Heeseung shouted, attempting to step closer.

"You better calm down." 

"Or do you want my brother to pull the trigger already?" her hair twirled around his finger, "I want her to see it first." He quickly pulled onto it, causing her head to fall with the snatch.

"No, she has nothing to do with this. I killed your men, not her. Let her go, now!" 

"I'm afraid I cannot do that, Heeseung. My client wants a replacement for his previous loss."

"And we decided to give him the other sister," the twin snickered, licking his lips. 

"You're fucking sick." Heeseung looked at the man above Y/N, passing on a distrustful smile. 

"I think we have waited far too long for this one," The snarky laugh punctured through, running his hands on her exposed thighs. 

"I said don't fucking touch her!" 

The delinquent just laughed and took a knife, putting it under her neck. He played with her hair, leaning closer to her ear, whispering something, and smirking right after. Whatever it was, Heeseung was sure it was appalling and lewd. 

"So," the edge of the weapon traveled down her T-shirt, "I'm going to have my fun." He sneered as its sharpness cut the clothing in two, exposing her body to the filthy losers. 

"And you're going to watch."

"You fucking piece of shit!" he jumped the guy, not thinking twice about it. They both rolled down the floor, one trying to keep the weapon, whereas the other risked to grab it. 

"I'll kill you. Right here, right now," Heeseung hissed, head-bumping him as soon as he had the opportunity. 

"You fucker," Joon-woo immediately covered his nose, staining his hand with his very own blood. He was sure it was broken, but it wasn't enough to stop him from returning the favor. 

Heeseung looked back at the other brother, who attempted to shoot the man in black, raising his arm to carry out the movement. 

However, Heeseung was quicker, avoiding the fatal hit by rolling over in time. He still had Joon-woo on his back, getting on his hands to perform a leg sweep. With that, he fell on his back, pushing all the air out of his lungs with a curse.

"You are dead meat, Mr. Lee," the man coughed out, barely having the energy to properly look him in the eye.

Heeseung knew he was minutes away from another blast from Jun-Seo's gun. Without wasting time, he quickly stood up and ran into the other perpetrator with full force. He successfully knocked both of them over, the firearm vanishing in the far distance. The stunt in the movement allowed him to yank and throw the firearm into the far distance. 

"Get him!" the other twin ordered, quickly taking out his Glock 19 to point it at Heeseung. Jun-Seo got on his feet again, shooting a death glare. Despite not having anything to defend himself with, he relied on his strength, rushing to him. His arm extended toward Heeseung's direction, and a sudden hand appeared in front of his face. 

"I should have killed both of you when I had the chance," Heeseung panted, evading each punch like a pro. It was too easy to fight with such an incompetent loser like him, managing to switch positions in the meantime. 

"We should have gotten rid of you two sooner," Joon-woo yelled, shooting into the brawl. He only didn't predict Heeseung doing the unthinkable by pushing the brother in front of him. The bullet entered the wrong body, disappearing in Jun-Seo's chest with a loud gasp. 

"No!" The shooter yelled at the turn of events, watching his twin fall to the ground right next to his feet. He panted in pain and brought his hands to the wound his sibling unintentionally caused, his eyelids losing their tension as his pupils dilated. 

"You piece of shit!" The scourge unleashed from between his lips, a pair of heartless eyes darting back. He looked back to see the cop with his gun right back where it belonged, pointed at him, the main suspect.

"You did all of this just for this stupid bitch!" He raised his arm, turning in the direction of the abducted innocence. 

"Step away from her," Heeseung yelled, blood rushing through his veins.

It was a relief to have taken down one of the obstacles in his way without getting his hands dirty. Nevertheless, there was still the main problem standing in front of him, aiming to assassinate his victim. 

He knew the sicko could pull off a dangerous stunt since his actions were unpredictable, scanning the expressions on his face. He was expecting furrowed brows, hands clenched into fists, or a death glare at least. 

All he got was a loud sigh, followed by a prolongated laughter. The kind of laughter you would hear The Joker do in a quarrel with Batman whenever the two would argue. It was almost as if he was amused or pleased with the outcome, even though his brother was lying inches away in a puddle of blood, practically minutes away from dying.

"You really are a jokester, Mr. Lee," he lowered his gun, ignoring the confusion on the cop's face.

He just passed on a stare and a scowl, fidgeting with the weapon in his hand like it was a toy with no bullets in it. His behavior was so bizarre that Heeseung couldn't help but stare at him in confusion. 

The thing was, the stare he carried didn't belong to someone who had just given up. It wasn't of someone who just surrendered and accepted his fucked-up fate. 

It was the complete opposite of what it was supposed to be -malicious, daring to some degree as if he was taunting him with his capability. He challenged him with a gradually growing smirk. 

At that moment, Heeseung realized it wasn't a renunciation but a part of the plan. The plan that had been constructed from the beginning. Composed to every little point to lure out the enemy. She was his weakness, and they damn well knew about it. They were cruel enough to use it against him. 

With another look, he noticed the turnabout in Joon-Woo's glare, the shade of wrath igniting. 

"For thinking I would let her off so easily," the loud bang emitted through the silence, a sharp "pop" following right after. The noise yielded Heeseung to register the situation, his eyes widening as they quickly scanned for the landing. His gaze landed on the girl in the chair, uncovering a bullet point of entrance on her chest. 

Heeseung's heart dropped as he looked over to the side. 

His eyes widened in horror, staring blankly at the injured girl.

His body went numb, but he still tried to remain as stoic as possible.

All he could do was stare, frozen in fear, as the girl's white shirt slowly turned red.

Heeseung knew he couldn't repeat the same mistake, not hesitating to respond as he pointed his gun directly at the shooter. It was what had to be done. Jun-Seo was going to die today, next to his brother.

His heart skipped a beat as the adrenaline rush towards his veins intensified. He pressed the trigger, watching the evil twin staring back at him in shock, falling back. 

The loud thud confirmed the man was no longer alive, the bullet in his head adding to reason. 

Heeseung slowly approached the corpse, looking at him one last time to ensure himself. 

At that moment, he indeed felt the unbearable weight on his shoulders falling off, all of it evaporating in the air. 

Heeseung finally exhales, dropping his gun to the floor. His heart rate slows down, but the poundage in his body becomes heavier, almost as if the world was collapsing in on him.

"Where-" he quickly turned around at the origin of the sound, his eyes meeting the girl's.

Heeseung instantly rushed to her side, trying to assess the damage.

Her blood flowed onto his hand as he pressed it on the entrance wound, attempting to stop the bleeding.

"I'm going to save you, just hang on..." he whispered, applying pressure after dialing his collegaue. 

As she struggled to remain conscious, her eyes locked into his.

She was unable to express her gratitude with words, so she gave his hand a light squeeze, letting him know that she understood his intentions.

She trusted the man for some reason, even though she couldn't see his face. Everything was pitch dark.

She hoped for the misery to end soon, letting her eyelids rest.

She only waited for the moment to end, for the afterlife to welcome her.

Heeseung was overwhelmed with worry and fear. He knew how close she was to dying, watching her breath grow shallower and more shallow after each passing moment.

He saw her eyes flickering in and out of consciousness, but all he could do was gently stroke her hair away from her face, hoping and wishing for a miracule. 

His hand rested on her chest, feeling her heartbeat. He desperately implored it to keep going, pleading with the higher powers, begging them not to let her slip through his fingers.

"Don't leave me, please," he whispered, kissing her hand.

Heeseung noticed her breathing pattern becoming erratic, her pulse slowly becoming weak, indicating that she was losing the battle for her life.

"Don't go," he whispered, placing his face closer to hers, willing her not to leave. The tears rolled down his cheeks, shaking his head in denial. He desperately tried to keep them from falling again.

"Please stay with me," he beged, unable to handle the thought of her dying in his arms. He continued to caress her cheeks, his voice muffled as his face grew redder and redder.

"Please..."

He recalled all the memories they encountered, the bad and the good, and burst into tears again. He didn't even try to stop them, unable to hold it in any longer.

"I don't know what I'm going to do without you..."

Heeseung's voice filled with anguish, and ha piece of his heart ripped out of his chest. 

His desperation grew as her heartbeat grew weaker and weaker. Her chest rose and fell, labored. 

Each breath was battle for her life, and her body was not winning the fight. It started to grow cold, and her heartbeat became even fainter, as if it was trying to slip through his grasp.

"I'm so sorry." 

"I should have protected you," he cried, pressing into her chest. 

"I love you, Y/N."

Her hand rested on his, a faint smile spreading across her face. 

---------------------------------------------

"Y/N," 

"You-"

"It's you?" her brain refused to believe the alternative, pacing back and forth, forth and back, like a spectator at a tennis match. 

Lee Heeseung? 

Her Lee Heeseung?

No, that's impossible.

She foolishly wanted to hold onto the strand of hope even though it was perilous. She knew it would relish on painting her walls within in qualm, scribbling various disquietude lines, and doodling frightening visions.

It appeared so compulsive, eyelids concealing the water amassing beside. The droplets traced her rubicund cold cheeks, reaching the corners of her quivering mouth. She tasted the woeful hopelessness accumulated over the past months. 

How hopelessly she wished for it to be real.

For him to be with her. 

If there was one thing she had been yearning for, it was his return. 

Somewhere deep down in her shattered soul, she dreamed of a reunion. A reconvene in which she could hold onto him without fear. Without having to worry about him letting go once she would look away. Without being afraid of falling asleep because he wouldn't be there in the morning. 

It was the only thing she had been longing for. 

"No. You're not here. I'm seeing things again, right?" She looked around, laughing while groping the mattress. Doing so, she failed to detect the unknown material, repeating the same motion. It wasn't the same at home. It wasn't the latex filling she was used to. 

She swiftly looked around, eyes darting around the unknown layout. They glanced over its walls sheathed in snow without a single trace of a painting, the dim lamp gleaming in the corner. It smothered the gloominess in a soothing tint of beige, strangely comforting. 

It was so familiar, yet so unknown. 

Was it because this wasn't her first time being in this room?

"Why am I here?" Her rapid breathing complicated the question's delivery, hands clutching onto the duvet to prevent them from shaking even more. 

You fool.

She looked down, studying the IV line inserted in her vein. Her eyes popped out of their sockets, desperately trying to recall what had happened to put her in this situation in the first place. 

"Calm down," the man beside appeased, holding her hand. 

Compared to her ice skin, he was a burning flame. 

He wanted to believe it was because of his anticipation and not because of her declining health. 

He didn't want to be attentive to her paper skin or her bones visibly sticking out. Oh, how much he wanted to believe her knuckles weren't poking out next to his hand. 

However, he couldn't. He couldn't bring himself to denial when these were all the signs he harbored before. 

The last time he saw her, his thumb couldn't reach his pinky finger. When he wrapped them around her tender wrist now, they managed to join. 

All of these signals were so familiar that he couldn't ignore them. They weren't normal and he knew from experience what effects it could have if not properly treated. Consulting with the doctor during her sleep was a necessary procedure, but he couldn't tell her everything now. 

For God's sake, she couldn't even acknowledge it was him caressing her hand. 

He felt like a stranger sitting there, with a worried expression and no response. He didn't know what to do. The only thing he wanted was to hold her and tell her everything was over. That he had finally accomplished what he should have done a year ago. Something he owed her from the day they met.

Where was the feeling of joy he was supposed to encounter? First and foremost, he executed an outstanding performance on the job tonight. Thanks to him, the case that was open for years had finally come to an end. It was due to his commission the two criminals now lingered behind bars.

"Is this one of those dreams again?" she suddenly grasped his shirt, unable to distinguish fantasy from reality. She held on to the cotton fabric with dear life, knuckles beginning to hurt as the grip amplified. The oaky fragrance disbanded into the air, entering through her nostrils to allow a segment of remembrance. 

Her fingers slid against the black clothing, studying the outlines of it, tracing down and up again. His chest rose with each unanticipated touch, brows sliding upwards to inscribe a few lines. Worry was written all over them when she gaped at him in confusion, refusing to accept his existence.

"Where I hopelessly look for you and never manage to find you?"

The headache was overlapping her brain in confusion, and she struggled to fathom her surroundings. She didn't comprehend the quick change of emotions on his face, looking at her as if she had announced the death of a close relative. In the end, she went through these nightmares almost every night. So, it wasn't abnormal to her. Yet, his stare was intense and frightened, screaming in concern, the complete opposite of her disclosure.

It wasn't.

It couldn't be after all.

He left a long time ago.

"I'm tired of those dreams," her voice broke down, replacing it with a weep, "because I never manage to find you." She broke down, releasing the suppressed pain gathered in her system. 

The mere thought of them ran shivers down her spine, completely despising the state they left her in. The number of times she woke up crying, desperately trying to hold onto the comfort beside was too much to count. The way she would open her eyelids only to realize there was nothing but a cold and untouched bedside. 

She would always look at the empty spot with hope. 

Hope he would come into the room with that dazzling look and hop back in the bed to hold her tight in his embrace. She wanted him to say everything would be okay, just like he used to. She wanted to hear his smile again, see his laughter, and feel his love in her hands. 

Was it that selfish to ask for the undoable? 

It was.

After all, he had always been a far stretch - an unreachable beauty, like a star in the sky she could only admire from afar. Too unreal to be authentic. Too perfect to exist. Too good to be true. Just like their relationship. 

Even stars die eventually and gradually start fading away. It was simply natural for them to end as well. 

So why was it so hard to say goodbye?

Over 365 days have passed since the day, and Y/N still stood at the beginning of the road. It was as if her feet were glued to the floor, trapping her in the moment she desperately tried to eradicate. 

If a samurai's katana could slice through her stomach now, it wouldn't manage to do more damage. Nor his bow stricken to embed in her lungs. It would simply sting for a second before disappearing into the mist, just like everything else in her life. It would form a pool of blood beneath, assembling a shattered reflection. A reflection she would reach for and fall into its never-ending well of hatred and pangs of conscience.

"I did something wrong, right? That's why you left. I was so annoying with my constant mood swings, wasn't I?" 

Heeseung closed his eyelids to prevent the accumulated sadness from firing, trying to stay collected so as not to evoke more sorrow. 

His hands turned into fists, aching to swing on the coward's head.

What a selfish idiot he was. 

He was going to cry? Him? When he was the reason they were both in this room right now?

It was his decision that caused all of this. He wouldn't be right back at the start if he hadn't given her up for his stupid career. If only he had just listened to his inner heart, things could have been different, better.

It was like someone was ripping him open, cutting and slicing with the sharpest blade, puncturing endless rebukes. Not only was he screaming from the pain, but also from witnessing Y/N uncontrollably crying in front of him. 

Her petite hands held onto her hospital gown, slanting over to let out all the misery he had caused her. She couldn't stop herself from wailing in agony and torment, feeling so hopeless and confused with him reappearing in her life. It was a hard pill to swallow. The kind that gets stuck in your throat, and water cannot drown it. 

"I'm so sorry I couldn't control it," she sniveled, clutching her hair tightly and pulling it to inflict more pain on herself. 

"I'm so sorry," she screamed into the duvet, countlessly snuffling. Her cries were muffled, the airways between her lungs and nose becoming tighter with each one. She was practically yelping for air, hyperventilating. 

"I love you, Lee Heeseung. I love you so much that it hurts," her trembling index pointed towards her heart, repeatedly tapping her chest.

At this point, she was out of breath, wailing and gripping her clothes as if they could release the painful embrace around her chest. She lifted her gaze to meet the apples of his eyes. They were glutted with sorrow and guilt, heartbreak and commiseration. They were merely reflecting his feelings - complete hopelessness. 

"I can't live without you, Heeseung. I can't-" Her sob got cut off by his sudden maneuver, palms gently cupping her cheeks before drawing her face closer to him. Now, he stared into her chocolate eyes, gazing at his hickory ones with surprise. 

"I love you more, Y/N." His nose rubbed against hers, foreheads aligning with one another to create an intimate moment between the lovers. They used to do this often, almost every morning, just holding each other and laughing in joy. It was like a routine, something mandatory before getting out of bed.

"More than anything else in this world," his tears caressed hers, tracing them upwards with his lips. He replaced the traces of sorrow with caring pecks, making sure to collect every drop. 

"Heeseung," her hand clutched his shirt, trying to stay sane even though, deep down, she was melting in his touch. 

He lightly tilted her head back, gaining access to her quivering mouth. She had it slightly ajar, huffing the compressed air through the small gap. Waves of electricity were dashing down her cells, causing an upheaval of homeostasis. The more he looked at her, the harder it got to breathe without a strain on her lungs. She had no choice but to say, "Please, just kiss me."

There was no time for that request to have been adequately thought through, as the circumstances deemed the opposite effect. For once, Y/N didn't want to think over her decisions. She wanted them to happen and worry about the consequences later. 

"Can I really?" his hand slid back, holding her head to grant her maximum relaxation. 

"You fool, I just told you to do it."

"I only want to make sure," he murmured, his lips automatically attracting with hers, like two magnets of opposite poles. 

Perhaps it was a lofty comparison, but the way neither side hesitated before carrying out the deed proved otherwise. They have been yearning for this moment ever since they have parted ways. 

Hell, they spent all of their time convincing themselves they weren't a match made to last for centuries when they were. Their love was so powerful that the glue in their bond never dried out. 

Even though they were two completely different people, it was their love that brought them together. No one could change that.

"No one."

"Not ever," he whispered while he damped her lips with his wet and warm tongue, panting with each smacking sound.

It was like entering heaven. 

He could almost feel the bright rays of happiness encircling them with its mighty power, not to mention Y/N's whimpers, which were like music to his ears.

Or maybe it was his poetic description of this incredible ecstasy that made it appear so illusory. 

He felt like a teenage boy again. His hormones were all over the place, and his heartbeat was agitated with an uncomfortable tension in his boxers.

God was cruel for putting his body into this state, especially in this situation. However, he couldn't control it. A whole year without Y/N meant a year full of bottled-up pain and tension. He never went out and slept with someone else because he knew too well no one could compare to her. 

Fuck, no one could be her, so there was no point in doing anything reckless. Plus, his heart wouldn't be able to do something so dishonest. It was loyal, unlike him, and it never erased nor forgot the name of his soulmate.

"I missed you so much," she cried, her grip around him tightening, so afraid he would let go and the feeling of safety would disappear with him.

"I know, Y/N. I missed you, too." Heeseung's hand slid up her arm, then her neck, until his hands rested on her cheeks, and he gently pulled her closer.

"But I'm here now," he continued, his voice filled with tenderness and affection. "And I don't plan on leaving your side ever again."

She looked up with red eyes, swollen and aching from the pang inside her heart. "You promise?" she asked innocently, not ready to receive a no for an answer. 

"I promise." His voice was firm, his words soothing. 

He kissed the top of her head, feeling her grip tightening around him while tears still ran down her wet, rosy cheeks. He wrapped his arms tightly around her, refusing to let go. 

"I'm not going anywhere. Not this time."

As if by instinct, she buried her face in his chest yet again, breathing in his scent and feeling his warmth as he enveloped her petite body in his warm embrace. 

Y/N felt her heart beating faster, the rush of emotions overwhelming and confusing her in the process. God, how much she has missed this. Being held, taken care of, and loved. For the first time, she allowed herself to feel vulnerable and let out a pained sob. She had held it for so long.

"Breathe," he whispered in her ear, noticing her shallow breath in a poor attempt at composure.

Her body couldn't stop shaking in his arms, the waves of emotions and shock deluging her.

"I'm here." The man of her dreams whispered, his words soothing out the bump of worries in her head. He stroked her lusciously dark hair once again, caressing her cheek as she leaned her head on the crook of his neck.

"I've got you."

That was all she needed to hear. 

They both remained in each other's arms, the silence broken only by their heavy breathing. At the same time, Y/N leaned in for his hands, holding them in hers. They were big and mighty next to her small and delicate ones, swallowing them in his palms. She played with his fingers, wrapping her digits around each one like an adorable baby. 

She has done this so many times before. It felt so natural each time as if their hands were sculpted to fit between the gaps of their fingers. Every insertion and removal was smooth like butter. She repeated it over and over because she couldn't get enough of it.

It was his hand she was holding and her hand he was kissing.

"Is this alright?" he asked foolishly.

She replied with a passionate kiss instead, wrapping her arms around his neck and pulling the strong man as close as possible. Her body pressed against his, so gentle with each movement that it made him shiver. He leaned into the squeeze, letting go of his worries once and for all, only focusing on her warmth blending with his. His eyes rolled to the back of his head, the heat of her against his own sparking lascivious ideas. 

Her lips pressed softly against his skin, enticingly murmuring her name as a result. 

"Y/N..."

"I missed hearing you saying my name," she whispered into his ear before gently biting onto its helix.

Heeseung closed his eyes and exhaled a deep and long breath. He leaned closer and caressed her chin, tilting it upwards so he could meet her eyes again.

"I want to be with you forever," he said softly, hand gently caressing her hip.

"I want to wake up next to you every morning and sleep with you by my side."

"I want to hold your face and feel your lips on mine every chance. To feel our love growing more and more each day."

"I want to spend my life with you. To know you're my home, my heart."

She gaped at him in shock, not expecting to hear such a meaningful trail of confession after everything. It contradicted his ambiguously lengthy absence in which Y/N went through hell thinking about what she had done wrong. 

Now, he sat before her, eyes full of ardor and sincerity, brushing his devotion on her like a naked canvas. 

"I've made the mistake of letting you go once," he held her hand, placing it on his chest. She felt his rhythmic heartbeat gradually increasing with each prolonged second of his speech. 

"I won't make the same mistake twice, Y/N." 

Heeseung's voice is filled with sincerity and truth, determined to finally carry through his feelings to her like he should have done. 

"I can't promise I will always be perfect," he expressed, his hand intertwining with hers. "But I promise, I won't let anyone tear us apart again."

He squeezed her even tighter as if she was the only thing holding him together.

"What do you mean? Who tore us apart?" her face changed instantly, confusedly staring into his apprehensive eyes. The cat was out of the bag, and Heeseung finally had to face the harsh side of reality.

Instead of answering, however, his gaze drifted away. 

His expression became darker, pupils dilating from the rise of anger within. It wasn't directed towards the reason, but himself. He was furious for preserving this crucial information from her for so long.

He looked away, his hand still over hers as he tried to find the words. He took it and brought it to his lips, gently kissing it as he spoke.

"Your parents..." Heeseung said quietly.

"They never approved of us, and I knew."

Heeseung paused, unsure of how to proceed or what to say next. He didn't want to ruin her relationship with her parents or affect their reunion. Telling the truth was the best choice, but he wondered if she would forgive either side.

"They threatened to sue me and ruin my career. They said I was negligent on the mission. That I wasn't a good enough person to be with you."

He stared at her, doubtful of how much information to share. 

"They didn't want me to talk to you ever again," he disclosed, his tone guarded. "They told me either I stayed away from you or they would ruin my life."

He sighed and looked down at the ground, a slight sense of shame on his face. 

"It was their disapproval, combined with the threat of losing everything, that forced me to leave."

"So you chose your career over our love?" she scoffed, pushing his arms away.

"Your career was more important than our relationship?"

She shook her head in disappointment. 

"No..." Heeseung quickly replied, stunned and hurt by her sudden change of attitude. "You know I'm not like that."

The truth was that he completely understood her reaction. He responded to his terrible decision the same way, turning against himself for being such a selfish prick. 

Nevertheless, so much was at stake that he couldn't have done it differently. That's what he wanted to explain. To make her see his point of view and hopefully make her understand. 

"You're the only person who knows what I had to go through to become an officer, Y/N. You know what kind of future I envisioned for myself, for us."

He wavered, rethinking his wording so as not to make it sound wrong. His voice slightly trembled, incredibly scared of what might come after all of this. "It would have been my entire future they would have destroyed."

She shook her head in denial, not wanting to believe her bloodline would stand in the way of her happiness. She couldn't believe her mother and father put her into that misery and pretended to be clueless. 

They blamed him for everything, constantly pointing out how right they were about him from the beginning of their relationship. They kept telling her that he would eventually leave and never look back when, in reality, they were the ones who would cause it to happen. They were pulling the strings behind her back. 

This whole time, while she deteriorated from the uncontrollable pain all alone, they were the culprits of her suffering. 

"I," she covered her mouth, the urge to vomit intensifying at the repulsive revelation. 

"Why," she looked up at him, anger and resentment burning in her eyes. 

"Why didn't you tell me right away?" she whispered, her voice hingeing from the lack of power.

Heeseung shut his eyelids, unable to speak at first due to the words choking him up. He couldn't even look his love in the eyes as he lowered his face in remorse.

"I thought you wouldn't believe me," he replied calmly, his voice full of emotion. "They are your parents, after all."

Heeseung searched for the correct words to express what he felt in those moments right before he took the decision to leave her for good. 

"I thought me leaving would be the least painful, the least harmful choice. I didn't want to ruin your family for one incompetent coward like me."

"Bullshit!" she yelled, throwing all of his attempts away. She was so angry at him and her parents all at once that it molded into one tangled wool of wrath that gushed obstreperous amounts of ire. 

"I would have believed you, Heeseung. These are all just excuses-"

"How can you say these are just excuses," Heeseung oppugned, his voice breaking at the end of the sentence.

"You think I liked being forced to make that decision? You think I liked seeing you in pain because of me?"

He sharply inhaled, almost hissing when exhaling. The words were pouring out of him as fast as a waterfall, and no one could stop him from speaking his mind now.

"Don't you think I regret all of it? Don't you think that I wished every single day that I had just told you the damn truth?" he snapped back, his tone rising at each word. 

"Do you have any idea what I went through this last year?" she shut him down, firmly pushing him away.

Do you have any idea what I was thinking this entire time?" she panted, the wrath inside her escalating through the roof.

"I thought I wasn't good enough for you, that I couldn't even make you happy, that you left because I only rubbed off my bad mental state, and you couldn't handle it anymore. This entire time, I thought it was MY fault you were gone, and I wanted to die." The curses escaped her chapped lips, fists hitting the mattress out of frustration and lack of control over her emotions. Her eyes burned with ire and disarray, quivering from undergoing sudden shock.

"Every day, I dreamt about dying. Every night, I hoped I wouldn't wake up the next day and that I would just die." She shouted into his face, her yells soon enough turning into painful sobs. 

"After you left, Hee, there was no point for me to live anymore."

Heeseung stared at her, totally awed and stunned by her words. He was blind this whole time, ignorant about what was happening behind the curtains.

He couldn't form a sentence, experiencing such strong and intense emotions that he couldn't even find the words to describe them.

"I tried to end my life so many times," she cried, covering her face with trembling hands, entirely losing control of her body.

Chills ran down his spine at the weight of the last sentence, which unraveled the extent of her suffering. 

His worst fear became true: she was hurting because of him. 

From the start, he tried to do what was best for her future. Yet, he only made it all worse. He ruined her and became the cause of her nightmares, of every second of her affliction.

His heart broke into a million pieces. The amount of guilt he had never experienced before struck him intensely, leaving him breathless.

Tears slowly rolled down his cheeks as he realized he had worsened her depression. 

First, he took away the person who loved her the most and then disposed of the one she loved the most. All at the same time, because of him. 

He wanted to shout, to kick himself for being so oblivious. He wanted to hug her and hold her, cry with her, and beg for forgiveness.

But all he could do at that moment was stand like a deer caught in the headlights, completely speechless.

"I'm so sorry," he murmured.

"I never wanted to cause you... pain." His voice broke as he said those words, the guilt eating him alive.

"I-I should have been there for you, I-" Another sigh parted away.

"I failed to protect you."

"Yea, you fucked up. Now, go," her tone drastically changed, sitting up as she crossed her arms, head turning towards the window.

The world outside seemed so much calmer than the one in the room, the tension sticking on the walls.

Heeseung didn't know what to say. He tried to protest, to say something, to do anything to fix things, but after your dismissal, he knew he had to accept the fact that he had messed up beyond all reasoning.

He walked towards the door, waiting for her to change her mind and ask him to stay. 

However, his wish was replaced by a soft "go."

No other words were necessary for this goodbye.

He turned to face her one final time, his eyes full of regret and misery. They couldn't even match hers for more than two seconds before a tear rolled down his cheek.

He had to look away, refusing to see the pain in her eyes and her trembling face.

"No," he said, turning around.

Heeseung was frustrated and felt misunderstood, lost in the words of frustration and anger thrown his way. 

It broke his heart to hear her say these things. Although he expected the worst possible scenario, he couldn't come to terms with this alternative. There was no way he would let her go again. 

He paused, taking a deep breath to process what he was hearing.

"I failed you as a lover and a friend," he whispered, the tone in his voice filled with sorrow and disappointment. 

"I should have been there for you, I should have stayed and fought."

Her stare was still focused outside, refusing to communicate with him further. There was a lot of bitterness and pain inside her to pursue a polite conversation. Any minute, she would go off like a bomb. He was pushing the time until detonation.

Heeseung took a deep breath yet again, looking around the room in disbelief.

He had never seen her so angry before — not even when she was angry with her parents. This was a whole new level of anger.

He couldn't bear the thought of leaving in such a condition while being furious and hurt. Even if he thought she no longer wanted him around, he needed to prove that was not true. He wanted to prove to her his love was real and was not as shallow as she thought.

"Don't make me call the staff and get you kicked out," the threat set a foot on the floor, directly aiming at him.

She finally made eye contact, handing a cold glare, her brows furrowed and her nostrils flared.

For a few seconds, Heeseung was utterly stunned by her sudden threat and the intensity of the stare. Once she made eye contact, he saw deep down the pain and hurt that she was frantically trying to mask.

"I just want to say one more thing before I leave," he whispered, his tone gentle and apologetic. He looked away, unsure if he was doing the right thing.

"I don't want to hear anything from you," she sat up and got her slippers, aiming to stand up and walk him out.

However, a sharp groan escaped instead, her hand automatically positioning on the ache in her chest. His heart sank once again as he noticed the sudden wince in her facial expression.

"Are you okay?" he asked, his voice full of worry and concern.

He wanted to reach out but knew he did not deserve to comfort you in such a critical moment. It was all his fault.

Therefore, he remained standing, but only a meter away, as his worries grew over.

"I just need you to leave me alone." her expression changed nattily, practically hissing out the sentence.

He remained silent, not saying a word.He could hear her breathing and the slight wheezing with each inhale. Other than that, there was only the silence of the room.He couldn't find any words to say in such a situation, not when her voice bore hatred and disdain.

Slowly, he backed away from her, his feet making light sounds on the floor, almost unable to hear them. She winced when attempting to slightly move, each muscle in her body tensing at the unexpected action.

Tears summon in her eyes, crawling back from the overlapping ache and sorrow combined into a deadly mixture. Heeseung noticed how her body reacted, recalling the doctor's orders. He couldn't hold back anymore. He couldn't stand idle.

"Wait," he said quickly, his tone filled with worry and panic. He rushed to her side, putting a hand on her shoulder to prevent her from getting up.

"God, you're such a-" Her whine swallows the curse word, shutting her eyelids due to the ascending pain.

"You can hate me as much as you want, but you must lay down this instance," Heeseung sighed, noticing her effort at resisting his actions even if it was all for her safety. He tried to lay her down slowly but firmly, making sure he didn't hurt her any further.

He gently pushed her backward on the bed, hoping the pain from the movement didn't worsen.

"You're a pain in the ass," she coughed, eyes still closed to avoid any form of direct eye contact. His presence beside was enough to rile her up and clench her fists.

He had to hide his smile as her attempts to push him away and the occasional bursts of insults were adorable. She might have been furious at the moment, but her actions gave away the small hint of weakness underneath.

It made him want to apologize for coming back at the wrong time, but he remained silent and waited by her side for the pain to subside.

He sat on the edge of the bed, looking out of the window with a heavy pang in his heart. He stayed silent for a while, content with sitting in silence, even if she was still furious at him.

He occasionally glanced at her with a sorrowful look, as if he was sorry for causing you so much pain and distress.

Slowly, he turned his head back towards the window and exhaled, the only noise he made for the following minutes.

"I should be furious and mad at you for everything," she whispered, "Yet, I can't because it hurts even more."

Heeseung's eyes widened once she spoke up. She might have not looked at him, but he heard her perfectly.

She still sounded angry, but it sounded more like regret than anything else. It was the first time he saw her defenses crack, and he was starting to wonder how long until she completely broke down.

"I prayed every night to see you again, to be held in your arms," she paused, suppressing the wave of tears from flushing down her face.

"I-" she put her arm over her face, fighting herself from speaking up further.

He remained silent, watching her struggle with her emotions. He couldn't help but feel a pang in his heart seeing her trying so hard not to break down in front of him.

With a light, tender gesture, he wiped the tears away from her cheeks and put his hand over her fist, trying to hold her fingers while remaining careful about the injuries.

"I hate you," she whimpered.

"I hate how much I love you after everything."

Those words hit him like a knife to the heart.

Hearing her confess her love and hatred towards him was a bittersweet feeling. Although her words still harbored anger, there was no denying his heart was aching for her.

He looked at her, not saying anything, just staring, his eyebrows furrowing, waiting to hear what else she had to say.

"You broke me, and somehow-" she lingered on her words, snuffling, "you're the only thing I think about."

Heeseung's heart ached with each word she spoke, hearing the emotional confession.

He didn't quite know what to say. Her love for him seemed just as conflicting as her rage and hatred as if both were trying to take the throne as the primary emotion in her heart.

Her tearful, trembling voice made him feel vulnerable too, his entire being consumed by the emotions that made him want to hug her so tightly, wanting so desperately to make everything better.

"You turned me into a mess," she covered her face with her palms, refusing to be seen this vulnerable and weak again.

He couldn't even argue with that statement because, at that moment, he knew she was right. He had turned her into a mess. He had left her without a single thought about if she would be alright, what it would do to her given her psychological condition. 

He had forgotten how much she loved and needed him and how his sudden disappearance would affect her. He was unable to stand her vulnerable state any longer.

He grabbed both her wrists, pulling them away from her face, letting his eyes meet hers.

"Look at me," he said in the softest way possible.

He was doing exactly what she didn't want him to do.

She was concealing her reckless emotions from him, forbidding him to see her like this any longer.

At his words, she reluctantly let go of and slowly lifted her face. She didn't want him here, but she did. She craved, no, needed him.

She looked directly into his eyes, feeling her heart ache, not wanting this moment to end but also wanting to escape it. His orbs had the most solemn expression, looking at her with sorrow and empathy.

He couldn't help but feel how her emotions were constantly switching between rage and sadness, and although she didn't say the words, his heart was still willing to believe that she still loved him.

Because she truly did.

And that's why she hated herself so much.

Heeseung's heart couldn't take it anymore.

When she looked away from his eyes, he saw how much she was still struggling to keep her emotions from breaking down completely. He wanted to help her, he wanted to make everything better, but he didn't know how.

With a light tug, he pulled her close and tightly hugged her. The warmth from his body spread to her, the smell of his cologne filling her nostrils.

As if the whole world had turned upside down, she had officially reached her limits. There were no barriers in her way anymore and she let her emotions burst out.

At last, she allowed herself to cry in front of someone again. In front of him. In his arms, in his embrace, in his chest.

With the sound of her trembling breaths, Heeseung could feel how real this moment was. Every tear falling from her cheeks, every sniffle, and every sob.

He didn't mind one bit. He didn't care how vulnerable she was right now or how weak this moment made her look. To him, her hugging hugging him back and feeling her body pressed against his was all that mattered right now.

She was finally home.

She was finally safe again.

She was where she was supposed to be all along.

With her lover, her soulmate, her other part.

She could finally smile again.

Heeseung tightened the grip on her body, wanting to bring her as close as possible to fill the space of loneliness in her heart.

The feeling of her warm body against his was all he needed to feel complete again. It was like he found the last missing piece of the puzzle. With it, the picture was complete. His heart was finally beating again. 

He kept his arms around her, not letting go of her for a single second. He hoped that this was just the beginning of their second chance.

Her hands rested on his chest as she lifted her head, inches away from his lips.

He brought her closer, making the space between their faces even shorter. He slowly lowered his head to meet her lips, his breath slightly trembling as his heart pumped rapidly in his chest.

She moaned into the kiss, closing her eyes and letting him take control. She was so tired, both mentally and physically, but craved him intensely.

Their tongues collided against each other leisurely and intensely at the same time, desperate to have one another as close as possible. 

The kiss was hungry, both despairing for each other that they were practically devouring each other rather than just simply enjoying the moment.

Heeseung's arms tightly wrapped around her, holding her firmly against his body, his lips moving with a steady pace alongside hers. There was no need for any words, as their entire bodies had already expressed everything they needed to.

His hands ran under her hospital gown, sliding upwards on her back. She arched her back at the contact, moaning and lightly biting onto his lip.

Heeseung couldn't help but moan at her reaction. The feeling of his hands on her skin sent shivers down her spine, his fingers feeling like little sparks of joy spreading through.

He moaned against her lips again, wanting this moment to last even longer.

She was all his, and he was all hers.

There was nothing that could stop them from being so intimate and together right now. All the anger and hatred that lingered inside was washed away by the sheer joy of being reunited.

He began tracing her spine with delicate, light touches, sending a chill down her back despite the warm sensations that the gesture caused.

When his hands moved further up, her back began to arch involuntarily, breathing becoming heavier.

His fingers found themselves tangled in her hair, pulling back as the kisses became even more passionate.

"Someone could come in any moment," she panted as he pulled away for a minute, gripping his shirt for stability since she was in a daze. Any hospital staff could barge in, and she certainly didn't want anyone to catch her engaging in lewd activities...

Heeseung let out a chuckle at her reminder, still feeling his heart pump and his lips vibrating with a warm, fuzzy feeling.

"I don't mind," he whispered, his lips hovering near hers again, teasing.

At that moment, the kiss felt so perfect for him, so right that he didn't care if anyone saw them in such a vulnerable state. He looked around the room and back at her, a small, mischievous grin appearing on his face.

"You're crazy!" she wanted to protest, but he kissed her again, sliding his hand behind her neck so she could fully transfer her weight onto his hand.

"Don't worry," he said, getting up and heading towards the door, getting a "do not disturb" sign out of the shelf and putting it on the door's front handle before locking themselves in.

He was glad he had decided to take her to a private hospital, not only because the surgery was done quickly, but he could also stay the night with her.

She couldn't help but feel a little bit of relief wash over, knowing that they wouldn't be interrupted by anybody walking by. The two of you could finally have some privacy to let the passion and desire run free.

With the heat between both of them building up, Heeseung returned to the bed, this time straddling on top of her.

"Oh," she gaped at him from below, her hands holding onto his arms next to her.

Her gaze landed underneath his shirt as he hovered over her, allowing her to fully see his abs. They were still as sculpted and defined as she remembered, perhaps even more visible now. Her mouth slightly hung loose, biting her lip to conceal her arousal.

He looked down at her, seeing the intent stare at his abs as her finger lightly trailed towards the edge of his shirt.

With a soft smirk, he lifted his arms, letting her expose his entire upper body, the abs, and pecs flexing slightly as he moved. He let her admire and touch every inch of his muscle, even letting her trace the veins on his arms.

For some reason, seeing him suddenly topless caused a couple of fireworks to set off in her stomach, immediately looking away to hide the wave of heat mantling her cheeks.

Heeseung couldn't help but giggle softly at her shyness, finding it utterly appealing. He still got butterflies each time she blushed like this, finding it to be one of her most endearing characteristics.

He leaned closer, lifting her hands off her face and caressing it with his own hands.

"So beautiful," he whispered, pressing his forehead against hers.

"Don't be shy. You can touch any part of me you want."

"Hee," she panted, feeling breathless from the lewdness of his words.

He chuckled, noticing how overwhelmed she got.

"I can't believe how easily flustered you get."

He paused for a few seconds before placing one of his hands on her pink cheek.

"It's okay to be touched like this, you know," he whispered into her ear.

"You've touched my heart so many times already, you can touch me as much as you like."

"If you keep talking like that, I'll melt," she sighed, placing her hand on his face as his gaze only evoked more attraction.

Heeseung laughed, finding her response to his comments sweet. He could see her already trying not to blush and feeling quite embarrassed, which made him want to tease her even further.

"Is that so?" he inquired, looking at her with a teasing smile on his lips.

"Well, maybe it would be better to see you in liquid form. Then I could at least drink in your beauty all at once."

"What are you even saying!" She widened her eyes, slapping his arm and covering her mouth out of embarrassment.

Heeseung smiled and played with a strand of her hair.

"Am I making you upset?" he teased, "and there I was, planning on making you melt all over me so I could lick it all up." With a smirk, he brought his face closer to hers, letting her feel his breath against her lips.

"You're such a pervert," her head turned to the side on the pillow, closing her eyes as the tip of her ears began to redden.

"You like it, though," his voice was tinged with a teasing undertone, almost daring her to deny it.

"Is this making you nervous?" he asked lusciously, "maybe I should keep kissing your neck until you can't take it anymore."

She moaned and grabbed his back the moment his lips brushed against her neck, breathing heavier than before.

He knew damn well how sensitive her neck was, and he always used that against her. He smirked at her reaction to his kiss, noticing how her body tensed up.

As he continued kissing her neck and leaving hickeys all across it, he could hear how she was trying to repress her moans.He didn't plan on going too far with this, but he was incredibly tempted to make you her out with his touch.

She pushed him away for a minute, her whole body practically shaking from the stimulation.

Heeseung smirked, knowing he had pushed her limits with the kiss.

Still, he didn't hesitate one second to get close to her again and place light kisses across her face.

"Is that too much?" he asked, his voice still maintaining that teasing tone, "I could do even more you know. We have a whole night ahead of us."

"I hate you so much," she grunted, letting him peck her face with smooches.

"Such harsh words coming from such a cute mouth." Heeseung laughed as she kept resisting his kisses, only making him want to tease her more.

"You can hate me all you want, but you can't escape my charm," he grinned at her, kissing her forehead and letting his fingers trail downwards.

"You could have gotten me naked instead of blabbering on."

Heeseung raised his eyebrows and smirked at the straightforwardness of her comment.

"Is that an invitation?" he inquired, "cause if it is, then I accept it completely." He brought her close to his body again, still keeping a firm grasp around her waist.

"Let me make your desire come true."

"Be careful, it hurts," she sat up, holding onto him.

Heeseung smiled softly at her actions, letting her sit up and gently lifting her onto his lap. He saw how tired she was, the exhaustion of the surgery still weighing in on her.

"Are you sure you want to do this right now?" he inquired in a concerned tone, "we don't have to do anything, and still…"

He wavered for a moment, leaning her body against him.

"I still want to be near you."

She nodded, running her hands on his bare chest before giving it soft and tender pecks.

He let out a soft groan as his chest was bombarded with so many kisses, his body feeling warm at the spot her lips placed on. He let her body lean on him, enjoying the softness of her skin on his own. He couldn't stop but smile at how soft and gentle her every gesture was, making him feel the need to protect her.

She traced upwards, bringing her lips to his neck. She soaked up the smell of his scent, letting her lips slowly brush against his honey skin, licking and biting occasionally.

After kissing his cheek, she let her face rest on his shoulder, sighing at the warmth they were passing onto each other.

Heeseung cuddled her, running his hands through her silky hair as he enjoyed the closeness of her presence. They were both lying in silence for a couple of minutes, letting the quietness of the moment envelope them both. He felt content, and so did she. She floundered to explain it, but being in his arms made her feel safe and protected as if she was in a cocoon away from the outside world.

"Help me take this off, please," she pointed at her gown, slowly kissing him one more time.

"You don't have to say it twice."

He paused for a moment, feeling her tongue gently slide across his lips. It was as if she couldn't wait to feel his warmth all over her body. The thought made him eager to get rid of the clothing, so he began pulling the strings to the side, slowly untying them before she could slip the dress over her shoulders.

She looked down to see her chest wrapped with bandages from the surgery, sighing at the sight. Her eyes darted away, slanting a bit.

Heeseung's eyes followed her gaze, realizing how uncomfortable and self-conscious she must have felt about it. Wanting to ease her tension, he smiled and placed his hands on her shoulders before whispering next to her ear.

"You don't have to feel embarrassed or uncomfortable. I am your lover, and nothing you show me will make me love you any less."

With those words, Heeseung's voice was tinged with kindness, as he wanted to make her feel at ease and wanted.

"I'm sorry for looking like this," she lowered your head, trying to hide her chest.

Heeseung gently caressed her face, lifting it so he could stare directly into her eyes.

"Never be sorry for something you have zero control over." He lifted his hand and placed it on top of her chest, his thumb running across the bandages.

"I was here to support you during the surgery, and I'm still here now to support you through your recovery, and no matter what, I will always love you."

She felt her eyes watering, sobbing as his kind words caressed her soul with love.

He didn't hesitate to pull her in a tight hug, soothing her as he cradled her in his arms.

The comfort of his touch was evident, not only from how her body quivered from the sudden embrace but also from her sobbing. It was clear as a day that she was going through a lot, but the thought of being in his arms was enough to calm her nerves and soothe her soul.

"I love you," she whispered, looking for his lips with hers.

"I love you more, Y/N."

Heeseung brought their bodies closer. It was a tender moment, full of affection and love, as they shared a deep kiss full of care and adoration.

"So you still want me? Even though I look like this," she foolishly asked, worried he could be less attracted to her after the surgery. Not only that, but she had lost a lot of weight, and she wasn't comfortable in her skin.

Heeseung was instantly alarmed at the comment, well aware of her insecurities. The way she was concerned was the last thing he needed to see right now.

"Don't ever think like that again," he placed his forehead against hers, wanting her to understand how he felt.

"Nothing will ever make me love you less. You've been through this surgery and lost some weight, but have I ever told you how beautiful you still look? How much I still want you?"

"Please tell me," she hiccuped, getting goosebumps when he cupped her cheeks and softly caressed them in his big hands.

Heeseung smirked softly before leaning down to kiss her forehead.

"You are incredible to me. Nothing has changed how I feel about you. In fact, I feel that my love for you has multiplied, and I want you more than ever."

He waited for a minute, letting his words sink into her heart.

"You've gone through so much today, and all I want to do is take care of you and help you recover fully..."

She wrapped her arms around his neck, sobbing from receiving so much care and affection. She had gotten used to being alone and not having anyone for so long that she forgot how it felt to be loved.

Heeseung saw how his behavior was having a huge impact on her, and although he was touched by seeing her reaction, he also felt a certain joy in it, since it meant she was letting him into her life. The more she let him in, the more he felt satisfied, seeing how she accepted his protection. 

"Let me cuddle you again," he smiled, caressing her hair as he pulled her closer to his body.

"No, make love to me, please," she leaned back, letting him gently hold her close.

"I want you so badly."

Heeseung was a bit taken aback by the suddenness of her demand, but the tone of her voice was tempting and irresistible.

He let his hands crawl down her body until they ended up resting on her hips and butt.

"Are you sure you're feeling good enough to do something like this?" he whispered into her ear, not wanting to do anything that could potentially hurt her.

"As long as you're gentle," she smiled, caressing his face in her palm.

Heeseung let out a low growl as she touched his face, delicate yet sensual, enough to make him harder. The more she touched him, the more he felt his heart racing and his breath speeding up.

He moved in closer, their bodies touching from head to toe as her breath hitched.

"I'm all yours," she whispered.

Heeseung was speechless the moment he heard those words leave her mouth. 

It was the most beautiful thing he could ever imagine. 

Someone who truly loves him and wants to be with him.

He looked down at her, letting his orbs get lost in hers.

"Do you mean those words?"

She nodded, pressing herself onto his erection.

"My heart only beats for you and you only," she smiled, intertwining her hands with his.

He let out a low gasp upon seeing her take control, feeling some blood hastily flowing to his lower regions.

Her words were like music to his ears, and he kept grinning like an idiot. He was so happy she felt this way about him. He lowered his head, kissing the small space between her shoulder and neck.

"Take off your pants, Hee," she grabbed his belt, trying to take it off.

Her command had him on edge. He was so eager to obey that he didn't waste a second and quickly complied, undoing his leather belt and taking off his trousers as he sat on the edge of the bed.

Seeing him completely naked in front of her made her nervous, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear while looking over to the side.

Why did he have to look so ethereal and luscious?

The moment she averted her gaze to another direction and started playing with her hair, urging him to be even closer. He let out a slow breath and took in her appearance from head to toe.

She always had a way of looking vulnerable yet seductive that made his heart flutter with every heartbeat.

He leaned over, gently laying her back on the bed, getting on top. 

She gasped quietly, having him this close making her feel some type of way. Her hand wandered on his neck, pulling him lower to get a taste of his luscious lips one more time.

Heeseung moaned as she tugged him downwards and let her explore his body. It was a feeling that left him with no words.

He let his body rest on hers, making sure she was in a comfortable position as his hands roamed around her flawless body, trailing upwards until they ended up on her breasts.

She hitched once his warm palms held them, cautiously caressing them. Her hands rested upon his, guiding them to cup her breasts a bit more.

His touch was tender and careful, making sure not to hurt her while molding his hands to fit her curves. Her hands encouraged and guided him more, immediately tightening. Nevertheless, he made sure to keep the pressure at a minimum.

The feeling of the heat between their bodies, the sensation of their fingers running over each others' bodies, and the delicate kissing was enough to make his breath pick up pace as he groaned softly.

"You're so beautiful," she breathed out, every bit of oxygen getting cut off in her system whenever he looked at her with that dazzling gaze.

He sensed a deep level of contentment, letting his lips brush against hers. They were warm, and the feeling of her soft body under him left him feeling so excited that his heart would burst.

The fact she even wanted to be with him in that moment made the experience more fulfilling to him, the love only growing with each passing second.

He guided his mouth lower, from her neck to her collarbones, until he had reached her petite breasts, rubbing his face against them. He couldn't get enough of her scent and warmth, kissing and licking her nipples.

The tingling sensation of his tongue made her body shiver, bringing a rush of excitement. Her hands moved upwards to his hair, letting her fingers run through it. She failed to hide her moans, a few escaping, causing a surge of ecstasy to run to her toes, which curled in response. It was quite difficult to maintain her composure.

Her whimpers drove him crazy, glazing her teats tenderly like they were his favorite type of ice cream he couldn't get enough of.

She looked down at Heeseung's erection, grabbing it in her hand. Her fingers wrapped around it gradually, her heart rate racing, mind all over the place. She was lost in passion and had a hard time believing this was happening.

He leaned to her ear, his breath brushing over her after whispering her name. Her touch sent shivers down his spine, but he was also excited at the same time. It's been a while since the last time he had felt the sensation of a woman's touch on him, and he liked it.

She kept guiding her hand, traveling up and down his shaft. He continued twitching in her hand, overstimulated by her touch and existence. She struggled to properly inhale, the intensity of their activities sucking in all the clear oxygen roaming around the room.

Heeseung was going crazy. He was shivering and jolting, all his sensations heightening, and his body was becoming a little sensitive. She didn't have to touch his sensitive area to make him squirm. The way she used her hand to stroke him made any self-control he had left fly out of the window. The pleasure of her touch was overbearing.

"I missed you so much," she confessed, her thumb pressing on the head of his member, causing him to hiss in pleasure.

"I missed you too, Y/N," he whispered, letting a low moan slip out of his lips. She had his full attention. Not even his breath would slip away.

The way she took pride in making him squirm and moan, the way she traced him like a paintbrush across a canvas, made his heart skip a beat, wanting more of her.

He slowly thrust his member into her hand, practically using her to ease his arousal. She guided her palm gently down his shaft, letting him pleasure himself using her body. She kissed his neck, gently biting it. It was fun to care for the dominant one in the relationship.

Heeseung groaned as her lips kissed and nibbled on his neck. The feeling of the kisses left the blood running hot through his veins, sending a rush of heat through, slightly spasming below.

His hands moved down her body, one of them grasping her hips. She groaned as he felt his fingers circling her sacred part, spitting down for easy access inside.

"You shouldn't be doing this," he panted, his index playing with her clit.

"I should be the one pleasuring you," he stopped her from doing anything more, not wanting her to feel as though she needed to compensate him in any way.

His hand moved down to her body, skimming over her skin and body before settling down between her legs. His fingers caressed her folds, sending shivers.

"But I want to," she pouted, attempting to close her legs when his face was inches away from her exposed lower part.

"I know you do, but it's time that I got to return the favor to you," he cupped her thighs, squeezing them gently as he lifted her legs over his shoulders.

She covered her mouth, closing her eyes the minute his tongue brushed over her woman parts, causing her to throw her head back from euphoria.

Heeseung's touch was gentle but firm. He wasn't being forceful, he wasn't being rough, he was merely enjoying the moment of watching her body shake and tremble.

His hand moved lower and lower, his finger tracing your entrance.

His spit slipped inside, alongside his fingers, moving them in and out with ease while licking her clit. He pushed his fingers in more, curling them upwards to hit that sweet spot that would make her moan and groan in pleasure.

"Hee," she panted, drooling over how good she was feeling, tugging his hair since she needed to hold onto something. After all, she was going through cloud nine.

His touch left her gasping for air like a dying woman. She had no choice but to squirm and moan, letting a wave of ecstasy take over. It felt like she was in another world, the feeling extremely intense.

Heeseung's fingers circled and moved inside her, causing her to dissolve. She gritted her teeth, hands forming into fists as the pleasure overstimulated her.

His were moving slowly and methodically, focused on her that the world around him almost didn’t exist anymore.

It was as if the both of them were in their little worlds, enjoying the feeling of being together, their breathings syncing, bodies blending into one blossom. His hands slowly picked up the pace, going slightly quicker while remaining gentle.

"Hee," she called out softly, fighting to contain her lewd sounds, legs shaking slightly as the stimulations were overlapping. She felt like she was going to explode any second.

He knew what you were going through because he could see her expressions rapidly changing with each lick and curl. She was reaching that point where she couldn't hold it in anymore. It made him happy since this was proof that he was capable of pleasuring her to such an extent.

"I love you," she cried from the pleasure, arms crossing over her face to hold it all in. His fingers were quickly moving deeper and faster. He wanted her to experience as much as she could right now.

The words of affection got Heeseung feeling all mushy inside. He wanted to please her, to make her experience everything he could give.

"I-" her mind went blank, turning your head from one side to the other, feeling her climax building up inside. She was so close, and she couldn't hold on anymore. Her hand immediately grabbed his free one, tightly gripping it.

Heeseung didn't stop, speeding up to drive her over that edge.

"Hee-" she called desperately, legs shaking as he kept licking and moving his fingers quicker.

"Relax… Just relax, Y/N… Let go, let go for me," he said, his voice soft but commanding.

Without another minute, her nails dug deeper, her body shaking and tugging rapidly as she reached her climax, completely covering his fingers in her arousal. Heeseung smiled, licking all of her cum from his fingers and entrance, edging her with his kitten licks.

"Fuck," she cursed, overstimulated by everything.

She felt like all the tension had left her body - as if gravity had let go, and she was floating in the air. Her mind was blank, body trembling, breath quick and shaky as the feeling of pleasure was running all through your system.

"Heeseung," she whispered, pulling him closer.

He smiled a little as he moved his hand up to her cheek.

She wrapped her arms and legs around his body, kissing his neck over and over again.

"Please, put it in," she begged, resting in his embrace.

The moment she spoke was almost like music to his ears, and Heeseung knew exactly what you were asking for.

He gently pushed her down onto her back, leaning over with his hand trailing down her shoulder and chest to her neck. He let his other hand move lower slowly to touch her properly.

"Are you ready?", he whispered.

She kissed him, letting her actions speak. Her tongue immediately slid inside, breathing and moaning into his mouth.

He matched her energy, his tongue fighting with hers. He wasn't being gentle, neither was he being a beast. He was allowing the moment to unfold, not rushing it. The wet kisses were leaving them yearning for more.

"I don't want to wait anymore, Hee," she conveyed, wholly resting her body on the bed. Her legs were still wrapped around his waist, putting her arms above her head.

It was her way of letting him know that she was ready. That she needed him, now.

Those words sent his blood boiling, causing his member to twitch and jolt from the feeling of wanting her so badly.

He looked down at her marvelous body, noticing the position she had placed herself in for him - the invitation he saw in her eyes made him go wild.

He leaned down to her, his breath handling her with every word that came out of his mouth.

"Are you sure you can handle me?" he whispered, his voice a little low and husky from the intense moment.

"Stop talking and just do it already," her patience was getting thin, rubbing her lower part against his.

He grinned, unable to hold back the smile on his face after she snapped at him. With his body resting over hers, his hands went to the back of her legs, squeezing them slightly.

He looked into her eyes once more before pushing his body forward, aligning his shaft at her entrance. It wouldn't have been Heeseung if he hadn't teased first, rubbing his member against her slickness. He enjoyed watching her whimper in agony and frustration.

Her mind went blank the more he teased, swept away from his touch. There wasn't one single thought in her mind, merely focusing on this moment.

Her hands gripped his muscular arms, moans getting louder with each moment he rubbed against her beautiful body.

Heeseung's mind was on nothing but giving her satisfaction. Her legs gripped his back, voice becoming more breathy and soft as she wanted him to ease her arousal.

He smiled, and without a warning, he put himself in, his dick sliding inside her smoothly, causing both of them to moan loudly.

Her slippery and hot walls trapped him inside, trying to soothe his tugging and jerking shaft. He groaned, his abdomen drawing in at every push, shaking his head from the vigor of pleasure. She was unreal, her beauty, her body, just all of her.

Heeseung opened his eyes after calming down, his breathing deepening. His lips agonized for hers, huffing his compressed desire and longing into a powerful and passionate kiss. It was the longest one of today, sucking her lips in his mouth, his tongue grazing over, between, or under them continuously. He couldn't get enough, cursing at how unbelievable this was.

Her heart was beating so fast she could feel it in her ears, not believing that this was happening to her right now.

"H-Hees…" she could barely say his name as her voice quivered. He was using one hand to hold her against him, his other moving down to her hand.

"Y/N…" He breathed out, his voice husky and shaky. His thumb rubbed her hand, squeezing it gently to the point she could feel his touch.

The feeling of him being inside was a mix of many things, but the main factor was that it felt right. His body fit like a puzzle inside, like two pieces finally joining together.

She had used this expression before, but there was no better way of describing this bliss. It was too perfect to be true.

She was losing her mind, forgetting to breathe.

“Take a deep breath,” he whispered, the words barely audible from being so lost in the moment.

His hips slowly moved alongside her, their bodies now both thrusting together, absolutely lost in the moment.

All of his thoughts disappeared, the rush for pleasure consuming him. His lips met her shoulder between kisses, his tongue licking along it.

She did as he said, inhaling and exhaling filthy noises, turning him on even more. Her eyes were teary, not because it hurt, but because it felt too good.

“Good girl,” he whispered, caressing her hair.

His hips kept moving, taking longer, his back arching as he did. It took everything in him not to lose himself in the pleasure, to hold back and make sure that this was a long and enjoyable experience for both sides.

"Don't ever leave me again, please," she pleaded, realizing how emotional she was getting with each thrust. The fear inside was climbing over her walls, ready to ambush.

"Never," he vowed, kissing her with such desperation that he couldn't control himself any longer. It was like he was craving more of her.

Her hands held onto his hips, nails digging into his skin for support. Her legs were starting to give up, shaking from the intensity and ecstasy of their lovemaking.

Heeseung noticed her legs, moving his hand down to grip her thigh and hold it up slightly. He knew that he had to make adjustments to take it slower and not wear her out so quickly.

“Heeseung,” she breathed out, watching their bodies moving together with every single thrust. How he slid inside her and pulled away, completely disappearing inside her while hitting her hallowed spot. She threw her back, the image sending goosebumps all over.

He watched her body twitch and shiver, nails digging into his back. His breath was growing shaky, incapable of thinking about anything but being inside of her, enjoying the moment when the two of them were connected completely.

She looked at him through her droopy eyelids, toiling to look straight as he kept pushing himself deeper. Her mouth was drooling slightly, a light string of saliva tracing down her neck. This had to be what they meant by being fucked until your brain was empty.

"I love you," he moaned, his voice shaking and his breath increasing in speed. He could barely keep himself from falling in that moment; he was trying his best to keep a steady rhythm.

Her eyes rolled back, completely deteriorating in his thrusts. The deeper he fucked her, the more her insides quivered.

Heeseung pushed even deeper, his mouth open and his breaths coming out in small puffs of white air.

Her nails left long scratches on his back, losing control over herself.

"I'm here," he whispered against her neck. "I'm not going anywhere." Every word he said had a sense of urgency and determination to it. He was there, in her arms and he wasn't leaving her.

"I love you so much, Hee," she sobbed, hiding her face in the crook of his neck. Her moans occasionally slipped out due to his magical thrusts, becoming one with him.

"I love you too," he said quietly as he raised his other hand to her forehead and gently ran his fingers through her bangs. His hand came down to caress her cheek and he looked directly into her eyes. The passion he felt for her was overwhelming, and he couldn't think of anything at this moment but her and the wonderful moment they were sharing.

Heeseung moved his mouth back to her neck, kissing and nibbling softly. This feeling of belonging and unity between the two of them was just incredible.

His thrusts were longer but at the same time slower, his hand moving down her thigh and moving her legs down to his, he needed more grip for the both of their pleasure.

She bit her lips, eyes shutting at the phenomenal experience, throwing her head back and slightly arching. Her chest started hurting a bit, as their intercourse was getting a bit intense.

"Hey," he breathed, pulling himself out for a moment from your body. "Are you okay?"

It seemed that he caught on to the fact that she was beginning to feel some pain. He moved to the side and looked down at her, his face concerned.

"Sorry, it just," she pointed to the wound, exhaling loudly.

He realized that he made her discomforted. He couldn't stop himself from frowning, his face looking concerned.

"Don't apologize," he said, his voice a little low. "Just tell me what I can do to help relieve the pain, alright?"

"Maybe if we lay on our sides," she proposed, struggling to make herself turn

"That's a good idea," he helped her turn, leaning behind her and putting his arms around to help her stay in that position. His body eased into that position, laying his head behind her, arms holding her, and his chest touching her back.

"That's better," she smiled, breathing a bit easier now.

"I'm sorry for hurting you. I was enjoying the moment so much that I got a little carried away…"

"No, it's ok, I was enjoying it as much as you," she turned her head back a bit, grabbing his hands and putting it on her stomach.

Heeseung's body relaxed after her reassurance, leaning in more to wrap himself around her, the top half of his body covering her while the lower half pushed deeper into her.

She whimpered when he slid back in, squeezing his hands with a resonant sigh. This time, he was slower and more gentle, kissing from her nape all down her spine, leaving a lengthy trace of ardor. His mouth traced slowly down her back, turning his adoration into a sensational experience.

It was different this time because his concerns about her comfort were clambering. He never wanted to hurt her, only aiming to give her pleasure. Hence, he grabbed her leg, putting it over his so he had more space to enter deeper, to hit that spot that sent her through the roof.

As expected, she let out a deep gasp, the sound escaping from her almost involuntarily. Heeseung's tongue traced another slow line down her spine and back up again, savoring her taste.

He caressed her inner thigh, moving his hand back to her chest to play with her teats. His thumb and index grabbed them, twisting them around. He loved her appearance, but her breasts were the real treasure he never got enough of.

Words weren't able to describe how incredible this moment was, how their bodies connected and merged into one blossom of fervor.

His hands trailed up and down, drafting her marvelous curves. His touch felt light and gentle, yet there was still a sense of urgency and power behind it.

"You're so fucking beautiful, it's driving me crazy," he cursed, squeezing her breast.

"You're… you're so perfect," he spat out in between kisses, his body getting comfortable and used to this position. He bit down more forcefully on her neck, his kisses leaving more and more red marks.

"Hold me close, please," she whimpered, looking for his hands on her body.

"I got you," he said, body shifting to fully align with hers, arms gripping her from behind to tighten. He brought his face into her neck, his breathing speeding up with each kiss he gave her.

"Never let go," she sobbed, squeezing his hands with her trembling ones.

"Never, I promise," he pledged, holding her close to his chest.

She could feel his heart beating in time with hers, both sounding like they were about to explode.

"Never," she repeated, praying it was going to become true.

Heeseung kissed her deeply and passionately, pressing his body up against hers.

He was aware of her intonation, the worries raking in her head. Every kiss was stronger, more intense, and hotter than the last as he had to destroy all of them, one by one. His lips moved along her neck, tongue encircling on her neck, licking along it as he left no spot untouched.

She sat up, pushing him back on the bed. Heeseung's eyes widened, his reflexes quickly grabbing her wrists to prevent her from falling back.

She slightly groaned, lowering her head a little to catch her breath.

"Can you also sit up?" she proposed, wanting the two of you to make love while hugging each other.

He did as she asked, lifting himself a bit, leaning his back against the bed as he sat up with his legs spread. His hands held her back, one of his hands moving down to hold her leg as the other rested back on his. His mouth met hers, giving her a long kiss, not letting go of her in any way.

"I wanted to look at you," she voiced as she guided his shaft back inside her, scrunching her face.

"That's fine," he breathed out, his voice hoarse from being in her again, the constant switching driving his member to aggravate.

His eyes looked at her while her body trembled and twitched, his body feeling incredible. It was almost like being high, heavenly, and divine.

"I can feel your heart beating against mine," she smiled, her chest brushing against his, her perky nipples stimulating themselves.

Heeseung's heart beat faster every time she did that, her soft hands tenderly caressing his body, as if it would break in her delicate touch. She went over the muscles of his leg, his stomach, his chest, and eventually his arms. Her touch sent shivers down his spine and made him moan and sigh, realizing just how much she was driving him crazy.

"I missed you so much," she chuckled, masking the pain in her voice by cupping his cheeks.

"I missed you too," he breathed out, his lips locking with yours, making sure to kiss her deeply to show how much she meant to him.

Every kiss and bite seemed to drive a feeling of euphoria through his body, like every time he kissed her, a wave of happiness and satisfaction coursed through.

She closed her eyes when he caressed her back, circling it with a tender push. He made her feel so comfortable and safe, all with just one look, one touch, one kiss.

His kiss was the sweetest thing, his hands and lips exploring every inch of her. He wanted to feel all of her curves and touch every inch of her skin.

Her fingers wandered into his hair as the kiss deepened, huffing into his mouth while gently moving up and down, making both of them feel the most wonderful fractions inside.

He pulled her closer, their bodies wrapped around each other, unable to let go of one another. Their hands rested along each other's sides and their legs slightly entwined underneath.

Heeseung's tongue slid in and out of her mouth, exploring all of the areas he had already tasted before. He licked her upper lip after moving his hands down her hips.

He firmly gripped them, guiding her up and down his cock while he sucked on her neck, leaving trails of hickeys.

His breath warmed her icy skin and his lips kissed and nibbled along. Her body was starting to tremble and shake, his tongue returning to her lips. His kisses were extremely passionate, the ones where she forgot to breathe or think.

She pulled away, staring into his eyes through her lax gaze, mouth slightly agape, lips covered in their saliva. Her brain was empty, not thinking about anything but his presence and being inside her.

It felt like a deer caught in the headlights, clueless and innocent.

Heeseung smirked, watching her stare back but not knowing what to say. She appeared so pure it made him want to kiss her over and over again, fully swallow her in smooches and happiness.

He ran his fingers through her hair and pulled her face towards him again, this time gently kissing her neck.

Her wet lips brushed against his neck, quietly puffing and huffing. Her saliva was pooling on his shoulder since she rested her face on it, unintentionally drooling from the sensation.

Neither of them had any intention of stopping, wanting this moment to be eternal. When he saw how much she was enjoying herself, when he felt how aroused she was and how much he was giving her pleasure his lips curled into a satisfied smile.

His hands moved back from her cheeks to her hips again, squeezing her waist. His kisses still moved along her neck, his tongue occasionally nibbling at her collarbone and leaving it slightly red from the small love bites. 

She was drunk-dazed from his love and affection, from his kisses and touch, from his presence. One man was enough to wreck your entire world over and gather it up back, and that was Lee Heeseung. 

"I love you," he muttered. 

Nothing else was on his mind other than how gorgeous she looked, how incredible she felt, and how good it was to see every expression on her face from pleasure to satisfaction.

"Say it again," she murmured into his ear, wrapping her arms around his neck.

"You want me to.. say it again?" he asked, his voice a bit playful, yet his smile warm and genuine.

He moved his tongue to the side of her neck, running it from her ear to her collarbone, kissing it softly.

"I love you."

"Again," she smiled, closing her eyes from the exhaustion.

Heeseung chuckled, caressing her cheeks and running his fingers through her hair.

"Hmm, should I?" He teased, his voice mischievous.

"Should I say it again?" His breath and hand fondled her neck with marks.

"Mhm," she nodded, lazily dragging her lips on his neck.

"I love you..." he breathed out, moving his lips down until they reached hers.

"How many times do you want me to say it?"

"Until the day I die," she mumbled, eyelids shut and mouth still drooling, body completely relaxed and leaning against his.

"I love you," he repeated, giving you a light kiss.

"I love you." Another kiss

"I love you." Another one.

"I love you." The last one, slightly rougher than the rest. 

"How much, though?" her eyelids open a little, giving him a tired, but extremely seductive look, the one he lost himself in each time. 

"Hmm.. let me think," he chuckled, feeling the hotness mounting in himself from her look alone.

"If I could, I would take all of your pain away and replace it with the happiness you deserve. I would give you the whole world just to see you smile in my arms every day. I would give my life to make yours wonderful. I would sacrifice anything just so you can feel safe and loved. "

She whimpered at his words, eyes watering and insides rolling over. Her nails dug into his back again, hiding her flushed, red face in his shoulder.

"I would fight for you and protect you with my life, not allow anyone to hurt you ever again. I would fondle you in love and affection, from the moment you open your eyes till you close them," Heeseung breathed out, her scent intoxicating him.

"S-stop," she whinced in pleasure, eyes rolling back. The more he spoke, the closer she was to cumming, his words messing up her insides.

"You're my world, my life, my home, my reason to breathe every day. I want to take care of you and protect you, make you happy, and keep you warm every single time you feel cold or sad," his breathing shallowed as he spoke, feeling incredibly turned on by her reaction.

"E-enough," she pulled back, throwing her head back. He grabbed her wrists, not allowing her to escape his love.

"Never," he responded, pulling her back into his arms.

"I want to be with you all the time, I want to feel your body against mine, I want to make you feel loved, I want you to be mine and me to be yours until we die."

"S-shut u-up," she stuttered out, knowing she was minutes away from her orgasm.

"Why would I stop? " he asked, moving his thumb over her shoulder, circling and brushing her skin with the slight graze of a nail, leaving little marks on her skin.

He was also close to his climax, so he was more determined to finish the job than ever. His body tightened around her and his kissing became more profound and stronger.

"You need to hear the truth," he hissed in her ear, clasping her buttocks in his hands, pushing her onto his dick. 

"H-Heseung, I'm gonna-" she trembled, biting onto his shoulder to keep her loud moans in.

"Don't hold it in," his mouth ran along her shoulder and her arm, the marks getting darker with every kiss.

"Cum with me, please," she pleaded urgently as if her life mattered to it. 

"I will, don't worry," he kissed her cheek, caressing her head. 

Without another minute, her nails dug deeper, her pussy trapping his shaft in her fully. Her walls spasmed in a periodic pattern, sucking him in. Her clear cum glistened his shaft, wrapping him in its warmth and comfort. 

"Good girl," he whispered, his jaw twitching slightly. He wrapped both of his arms tighter and pulled her into a messy kiss.

His release followed up right after, managing to pull out just in time to cover her abdomen in his crystal white load. He panted as his fingers traced his cum on her stomach, spreading it all across her. 

His other hand gently laid her down, licking all of his mess off of her, the same way he did with her own. 

Perhaps it was the overstimulation he loved to observe on her or the fact that she clung to him more after cumming. Either way, he didn't stop rolling his wet tongue along her body. 

"My good girl," Heeseung whispered into her slick hole, pushing his tongue inside to slurp up all of her cum like it was a treat. 

Did he love her? Yes.

However, was he a bit of a sadist? Yes.

A low moan escaped his lips as he felt his mouth filled with her cum, his free hand gripping hers tightly. 

"H-hee."

He lifted his stare, landing on her adorable one, beseeching him to hug her. 

"You look so cute when you’re all tired like this, Y/N," he smirked, a faint peck landing on her cheek. His hand intertwined with her, the other playing with her hair. 

Sometimes, the amount of love he harvested for her managed to surprise him, finding himself falling apart in her touch and gaze. 

"H-hee," she whispered, closing her eyes. She tried to fight her exhaustion, but it was starting to get to her.

He saw how drowsy she looked, so he pulled her tighter to his body. 

"Go to sleep. I'll be right here when you wake up," he kissed her, his voice very relaxed and comforting.

"You promise?" she murmured, half asleep on his chest. 

"I promise," he assured, kissing her forehead and tucking her against him, pressing her body against his.

His hands stayed on her side, keeping her safely in his warm embrace.

"Until the day I die."

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𝐏𝐞𝐫𝐦𝐚𝐧𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 𝐨𝐩𝐞𝐧! ^^

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@maggstar