#please don't use her without my permission

[initforthethrill]

hi fav mootie its me again sighhhh my hrmones are shooting thru the roof even if i am in school...domfem cate x subfem user headcanons/canon ?? freaked up ver 😝😝😝😝

well of course, anything for you bub<3

domfem!cate x subfem!user headcanons

you live to be praised. you act like you don't care—lean back with that lazy smirk and cocky little shrug—but the moment cate says “good girl” in that honey-slick, pride-soaked voice? you go red down to your chest. lose all attitude. melt into whatever position cate wants you in. cate uses it liberally. quietly. just to watch you squirm.

cate doesn’t yell—she corrects. there’s something far scarier about how calm she is when you're being a brat. she’ll just tilt her head, sigh lightly, and say, “try that again with some respect, sweetheart.” and suddenly you're sitting up straighter, using your manners, and trying not to whimper.

public possession is non-negotiable. cate touches you constantly. a hand on your thigh at dinner. fingers in the back belt loop of your jeans at the bar. palm low on your back like a warning label. if someone flirts with you, cate doesn’t get jealous—so much as she gets amused. and then she punishes you for being so irresistible. “not your fault, baby,” she’ll purr. “you’re just too fucking pretty, aren’t you?”

you beg so beautifully it’s cate’s favorite pastime. on your knees, flushed and teary, whispering please between breaths like a prayer. cate loves to make you wait. to stretch you out on satin sheets and deny, deny, deny until you're nearly sobbing from how badly you need it. cate always rewards your patience—with interest.

you have a soft, secret ritual for submission. when you're overwhelmed, when the world feels too big or your skin feels too tight, you curl up with your head in cate’s lap and tug gently on her wrist. cate always knows. she slips her fingers into your hair, strokes slow and steady, and murmurs things like “you don’t have to be anything right now. just mine.”

cate spoils you behind closed doors. fancy lingerie, silk robes, gold jewelry with cate’s initials on them. she buys you a delicate collar with a tiny charm that says “beloved.” you only wear it in private. cate calls it her favorite accessory.

you talk tough—but fold fast. you'll roll your eyes, make a joke, call cate a princess or a tyrant—but one stern look, one slow step forward, and you're instantly flustered. biting your lip. backpedaling. your bravado is real, but it’s no match for cate’s control. you like being bossed around. you just won’t say it out loud. not unless you're being edged.

cate’s favorite punishment? the mirror. she'll bend you over in front of one and make you watch—red cheeks, smeared makeup, bruises blooming like love letters down your thighs. “look how desperate you are. look what i do to you.” cate whispers it all while keeping eye contact over your shoulder. you cannot handle it.

she has a mirror kink the size of Vought Tower. she’ll bend you over the vanity, press your face against the glass, and make you watch every inch of her strap slide in. “look how desperate you are,” cate whispers, tongue tracing the shell of your ear. “look at this mess you’re making for me. filthy little thing.”

cate reads you like a book. you don't even have to say what you need. cate knows. the moment your shoulders tense, your hands twitch, your gaze gets distant—cate is pulling you into the bedroom, guiding you to kneel, wrapping silk around your wrists and kissing your temple. “you don’t have to hold it together, baby. i’ve got you.”

you have one trigger phrase that wrecks you every time. cate doesn’t say it often, but when she does—“be a good girl and come here.”—you come instantly. no questions. no thought. just obedience and desperation and absolute devotion.

cate does not let you come without permission. that’s rule number one, stamped into your pretty little brain. you're trained so well now that even when cate’s not touching you, even when you're riding a toy or grinding your soaked little panties into the mattress—you'll still whimper out, “can I? please? please let me…” And if you don't ask? cate makes you earn it back. with your tongue. for hours.

cate loves to make you beg with your mouth full. two fingers deep, just curled enough to make you squirm—and cate’ll go, “what was that, baby? didn’t catch that. use your manners.” your eyes roll back. you try to say please, ends up choking on it and cate's glove. meanwhile, cate’s smiling the whole time. “that’s better. you’re so sweet when you’re drooling for me.”

cate uses her powers in bed—constantly. a whisper inside your head that makes your legs shake. a push of calm when you're overstimmed. a slow trickle of need when cate’s edging you. sometimes she plants the words “you’re mine, mine, mine” into your mind like a rhythm. you come undone just from that.

cate will edge you for hours. on your knees. on your back. with a vibrator taped to your clit and your wrists tied to the headboard. every time you get close? cate presses a finger to your temple and stops it. just like that. “not yet, baby. not until i say.”

cate lives for strap-on control play. you get cocky—try to ride her? cate grabs your hips and pins you down instead. “no. you don’t get to use me, sweetheart. i use you.” she doesn’t stop until you're crying from how deep it is, blubbering thank you like it’s the only word you know.

you've absolutely fucked in public. more than once. cate fingered you under the dinner table at a hero management gala. rode your face in a locked godU lecture hall. got you off in the back of a limo while you tried (and failed) to keep your moans down. cate doesn’t care if anyone knows. she just wants you to remember who owns you, no matter where you are.

cate likes using toys on you—even when she’s not home. a vibrating plug. a remote-controlled bullet. a little note on the mirror: “be good today. mommy's watching.” you spend the whole day a mess—biting your lip in class, squirming in your seat, texting cate “please please please” and getting radio silence in return. cate makes you wait until you're crying. then calls you a good girl and makes you cum on command.

cate has perfect control over her voice—and you have a voice kink the size of goddamn texas. cate’ll say things like: “let them hear you.” or “you’re shaking, baby. need me to hold you while you cum?” or “god, you’re dripping. that for me?” you cannot take it. your thighs shake and you hide your face in the pillows while cate just laughs—low, fond, devastating.

post-orgasm overstimulation? cate’s specialty. you'll say “i can’t”—cate hears “keep going.” she'll coo at you, “shhh. you can. you’re mine. you’ll give me one more, won’t you?” and you will. sobbing, trembling, falling apart. cate makes you cum until your body stops obeying, and then holds you while you float back down.

cate owns exactly one paddle. and it says "good girl" in reverse lettering so it leaves a mark. you pretend you hate it. but every time cate pulls it out, you're already wet. already kneeling. already whispering, “please, make me better.”

cate has a ritual when you misbehave. she makes you strip slowly. stand at the foot of the bed. fingers interlaced behind your back. watch while cate lounges with a glass of wine and lists every offense in that bored, elegant drawl. “letting people touch you. talking back. cumming without permission…” each crime earns a punishment. cate reads them off like a shopping list. you're already wet by the third one.

you have a code phrase for complete submission. when you say it—soft, shy, trembling—cate takes over. no questions. no mercy. she strips you down, ties your wrists, and fucks you until you're crying from pleasure. cate doesn’t stop until you're limp in her arms, mind blank, lips only able to say thank you.

cate loves public degradation. not loud. not dramatic. just the kind that makes you clench around nothing while you try to stay composed. things like: “keep your thighs closed, sweetheart. you’re leaking on the seat.” or “is that what you wore to brunch? were you hoping someone would see your little plug when you bent over?” or “you’re mine. don’t forget that. collar or not.”

speaking of collars—you have several. one for play (black velvet with a gold ring) one for everyday (dainty, delicate, "beloved" on the tag) one that cate locks on after especially intense scenes, because she knows you're too blissed-out to ask her to take it off. and one that she keeps zipped inside her purse, because you never know when a brat needs to be reminded.

cate has you trained to sit at her feet. in heels. in silk. on your knees like a pretty little pet. cate will slip her shoes off and let you press kisses to her ankles while she strokes your hair and talks to guests like it’s the most natural thing in the world. if you're especially good, you get to crawl into her lap and be held.

cate fucks you dumb. like—literally. she loves ruining you until your sentences slur and all you can manage is “yes,” “please,” “mommy,” and “more.” cate keeps asking questions while she’s inside you: “what’s 2 + 2, baby?” and when you can’t answer, cate just coos, “that’s okay. brains don’t matter when you’ve got a pussy this good.”

cate uses toys you didn’t even know existed. suction, vibration, clamps, plugs, even voice-reactive ones. one time she made you wear a remote toy during a press panel. she kept it on the lowest setting…until you started talking back that morning. cate turned it up mid-interview. you barely held it together. cate was glowing with satisfaction.

cate has a folder on her phone labeled “training videos.” clips of you begging. shaking. whimpering. saying “i’m yours” while cate makes you cum on command. she watches them while traveling. on campus. during boring meetings. sends them to you with captions like: “this is who you are.” or “think about your place.” or “mine.”

after intense sessions, you always end up sleeping in cate’s lap. naked, bruised, marked, still wearing a collar. cate just strokes your hair and murmurs, “there you go, baby. that’s it. my perfect girl. you did so well.” and you? you don't care about the soreness. or the toys still dripping on the floor. or the ruined sheets. you just cling to your mommy and sigh, “thank you.”

cate’s favorite way to wake you up? not with kisses. not with coffee. with her tongue between your thighs. she’ll pin you down and eat you out while you're still half-asleep, whispering things like: “shhh, baby. let me have my breakfast.” you cum before you even remember what day it is.

she’s absolutely made you come while on the phone with someone. cate sits behind you on the couch, arm around your waist, hand buried between your legs. you're gasping while cate answers calmly: “oh, i’m not busy. just holding my girl.” she cups you tighter, fingers slick. “mhm. she’s being very obedient today.”

cate loves using food. melting popsicles between your legs. hot honey dripped on your nipples. champagne poured directly into your mouth until you're tipsy and pliant.

cate has a strap collection. color-coded. labeled. arranged by size, curve, and intensity. you have favorites, obviously, but cate doesn’t let you pick. that’s part of the game—never knowing if you're getting the pink glittery one cate uses when she’s soft, or the jet-black monster cate uses when you're being a brat.

there is a designated ruin-the-brat playlist. cate puts it on the second you start mouthing off. she doesn’t say anything—just turns on the music, grabs the lube, and pats her lap. you immediately shut up and climbs into position. by track four, you're begging. by track seven, you're sobbing. cate never makes it to track ten. you usually tap out by then.

cate has a filthy mouth and a god-tier vocabulary. she’ll call you:

“my spoiled little hole” “brat in heat” “mommy's favorite mess” “my sweet little spit rag” (yes, she means it literally)

you blush so hard but never say stop. cate says the filthiest things with a smile, like it’s polite conversation.

you've been punished with orgasm addiction. cate will overstim you until you're dizzy, raw, leaking, delirious—and then make you ask for more. “use your words,” she’ll say, fingers dragging lazy circles. and you, wrecked and dripping, will whisper: “please make me come again. i can’t think unless you do.” cate just laughs and says, “that’s more like it.”

cate uses her powers to hold you still when you're too wrecked to obey. she’ll pin you down with a whisper inside your mind: “don’t move.” and you can’t. you're frozen in place, soaked and shuddering, while cate takes you apart. it’s not mind control—it’s cate’s voice owning your body. and you love it.

cate has absolutely used your face to get off. sat on your tongue, grabbed the headboard, and rode. no warning. no instruction. just “stay still. be useful.” you came untouched. twice. cate came harder.

aftercare is earned. cate will leave you leaking and tied up, overstimmed and glassy-eyed, and then just watch you for a minute. “was it too much?” you always shake your head, dazed and smiling. cate unties you slow, carries you to the bath, and lets you float in warm water while she kisses every bruise she left behind. “you did so good for me. so proud of my perfect girl.”

♡ | privileged access

[sick-plague-rat]

Its one of lilithdeathbed or smth recent post!!! (btw just to warn you she referred to you by female pronouns in the post, if i'm not mistaken don't you use he/it???) though but from what i remember the post was accusing you of stealing her gifs??? (。﹏。*) I'm so confused...

As the time i was writing this, i checked back in the post and she crossed out the words and congratulated her fans for getting you to take down the post??? rq gonna copy paste it

"hi everyone, someone is using my gifs without my permission, please report her

--> @sick-plague-rat

repost to make more people report her

EDIT: i think she deleted the post so good job, thank you for help! love u 🩷"

I checked the comments of the post and i'll jst copy paste it here:

Commenter: "Diva where i don’t see it?/lh /gen. Ill still report tho!"

Lilithdeathbed: "another user told me in a comment some hours ago, maybe she removed the post but i don't know because she blocked me😭. whatever thank you for the help 🥹"

I think there was a miscommunication with her source of info??? I hope you don't get your account taken down bc of this!!! (⊙﹏⊙∥)

NOOOO WHATWHSTAAHAH ?!?!?!? THERE WAS MISCOMMUNICATIONN, I WANTED TO DRAW!!! DRRAWW A GIFFF FORRRRRRR FORRR HERRRRR !!!!!!!

I DIDNT WANT TO STEAL ANYTHING, OH NOOOO, IM SO SORRY I MUST HAVE WORDEDE IT WEIRD

i thought she was upset that i wanted to draw it and got embarrassed so i blocked her (im gna unblock her now, to clear things up)

BUT OH NOOO, I DIDNT WANT TO TAKE HER DESIGN, I JS WANTED TO MAKE FANART/FANART GIF, WAHHH I SHOULD HAVE CLEARED IT UP MORE

@lilithdeathbed IM SOOSOSOSO SORRY FOR THE MISCOMMUNICATION !!!!

i didnt make any post about ittt, uhhuuuh sosoo sdcbfevjwndkm im sososo sorry >.<

[50calmadeuce]

EOL -Chapter 15

Disclaimer: This is a work of fan fiction using characters from the Top Gun: Maverick world, trademarked by Paramount Pictures Corporation. I do not claim ownership of the characters and the world that I am borrowing.

The story and situation I am creating are a work of my imagination and I do not ascribe them to official story canon. This work is for entertainment only and is not a part of the storyline.

I am not profiting financially from the creation and publication of this story, but I do hope it gives you happy thoughts.

These stories are my own, so please do not take them and use them for yourself without my permission. If you see them somewhere else, please let me know.

After helping Jake with the fence, the two of you returned to his parents’ house. You both kicked off your boots in the mudroom before heading into the kitchen.

Jake’s mom opened the refrigerator and glanced over her shoulder with a knowing smile. “I figured you’d be staying for dinner, Y/N.”

“Sure. Thank you,” you replied with a warm smile.

Jake leaned in and gave you a quick kiss. “I’m gonna hop in the shower real quick.”

“Okay,” you said, stepping farther into the kitchen as he disappeared down the hall.

Jake’s mom pulled a casserole dish from the fridge and set it on the counter. “It’s just leftover chicken and rice, but I figured it’d hit the spot after a long day.”

“It smells amazing,” you said honestly, grateful for the comfort of something familiar and home-cooked.

She gave you a soft smile, then turned to preheat the oven. “You know,” she said after a beat, not looking at you, “I always hoped we’d see you walk through that door again.”

Your heart did a little flip, caught off guard by her gentle honesty.

You leaned against the counter. “I didn’t know if I ever would. Things got… complicated.”

She nodded, her hands busy but her eyes kind when they finally met yours. “They always do. But complicated doesn’t mean over.”

You nodded slowly, your fingers tracing the edge of the countertop. “Full scholarship. It came out of nowhere. One of Nolan’s old professors heard about me and pulled some strings.”

Jake’s mom blinked, clearly impressed. “Well, that’s… incredible. And overwhelming, I imagine.”

“Yeah,” you admitted, voice low. “Texas A&M was always the plan. But Glasgow… it feels like this once-in-a-lifetime kind of opportunity.”

She studied you for a moment, then gently placed the casserole in the oven. “You don’t have to decide tonight.”

You let out a small laugh. “Tell that to my brain.”

She walked over and rested a hand lightly on your arm. “Jake loves you, Y/N. That much is clear. But no matter where you go, what you choose—you have to do it for you. Not for him. Not for anyone else.”

You swallowed the sudden lump in your throat. “I know. I just… don’t want to lose him again.”

Mrs. Seresin laughed. "I don't think the ocean could keep you from losing my son. The land sure didn't."

Just then, the floorboards creaked in the hallway and Jake’s voice called out, “What are you two conspiring about in there?”

You smiled as she winked. “Girl talk. None of your business.”

Jake walked into the room, hair still damp, wearing a clean T-shirt and jeans. He took one look at you and grinned. “That casserole doesn’t stand a chance.”

After dinner, Jake walked you out to your truck, the evening air still warm against your skin as the cicadas hummed in the distance.

“So… you leave Friday?” you asked softly, not quite ready to say goodbye.

“Yeah,” he said with a small nod, his hands in his pockets. “Back to work.” He paused briefly. "You're welcome to come with."

You looked up at him, the porch light casting a golden glow across his face. His offer hung in the air between you, tender and uncertain.

“I know,” you said quietly, eyes searching his. “And part of me really wants to.”

Jake stepped closer, his eyes searching yours as he gently tucked a loose strand of hair behind your ear.

His fingers lingered for a heartbeat, warm against your skin.

“Then what’s holding you back?” he asked, his voice barely above a whisper, as if he was afraid of the answer.

You exhaled slowly, your gaze dropping to the space between your boots and his. “I’m scared,” you admitted. “Of choosing wrong. Of walking away from something that could change everything. Texas. My family. Glasgow. You.”

Jake nodded slowly, like he understood every unspoken word. “That’s fair,” he said gently. “But if it helps… I’m not asking you to give anything up. I’m asking if we can figure it out—together. Whatever that looks like.”

You looked up at him, your heart aching under the weight of so many paths converging at once. “I just wish there were more of me. Maybe then life wouldn’t feel so complicated.”

Jake grinned. “Darlin’, one of you is more than enough. Trust me.”

You reached up and gently rested your hand over his as he cupped your face, the warmth of his touch grounding you. He leaned in slowly, as if savoring the moment, and when his lips finally met yours, the kiss was deep and tender—full of unspoken promises, love, and everything you'd both been holding back for far too long.

When you finally pulled away, your foreheads still resting together, the silence was soft and sacred. Jake’s thumb brushed along your cheekbone, his eyes searching yours like he was memorizing the moment.

“You don’t have to decide tonight,” he whispered. “But wherever you end up—whether it’s College Station or Glasgow or right here—I’ll be in your corner. Always.”

Tears pricked at the corners of your eyes, but you blinked them away, offering a small, grateful smile. “You make it really hard to walk away, Jake Seresin.”

He chuckled, the sound low and warm in the still evening air as he pulled you close. “Good. That means I’m doing something right.”

You lingered there for a long moment, tucked against his chest, listening to the rhythm of his heartbeat and the soft hush of wind in the trees. Time felt suspended—just you, Jake, and the quiet possibility of something lasting.

You took a deep breath and sighed, breathing in Jake’s scent—a warm mix of leather and bourbon that wrapped around you like a memory. You tried to anchor yourself in the moment, to lose yourself in the safety of his presence, if only for a while, and forget the weight of all the decisions waiting just ahead.

Jake gently pulled you off of him, his hands resting lightly on your arms. His eyes held yours, steady and certain. “But, darlin’, I need you to do one more thing for me before you make all those big decisions.”

“What’s that?” you asked softly, a flutter rising in your chest.

He didn’t answer right away—just smiled that familiar, heart-melting smile. Then, slowly, he bent down on one knee, reaching into his pocket. Your breath caught as he pulled out a stunning white and rose gold engagement ring, the princess-cut diamond catching the porch light like fire.

“Y/N Travers,” he said, voice thick with emotion. “You are my world. I lost you once, and I never want to go through that again. I want us to face every decision—every challenge—together, as husband and wife. Will you marry me?”

Your heart thundered in your chest, breath hitching as you stared down at the ring shimmering between his fingers. Time seemed to slow, the night air thick with anticipation and the unspoken hopes between you.

Tears welled in your eyes as your voice trembled, “Jake… I—”

He reached up, gently brushing a tear from your cheek. “No pressure, darlin’. Just… whatever your answer is, I’m here. Always.”

You swallowed hard, the weight of the moment settling deep inside you. Then, with a shaky but certain smile, you whispered, “Yes. Yes, Jake. I will marry you.”

A smile broke across his face, bright and full of relief. He slipped the ring onto your finger, his hands warm as he held yours close.

Pulling you up, he wrapped you in a fierce, tender embrace, as if holding you close could keep all the uncertain future at bay.

Under the stars, with the world spinning just a little slower, you knew some things were beautifully clear. And this—this was one of them.

He slowly eased you from his embrace, his hands lingering on your waist as he searched your eyes with a steady, unwavering gaze. "Tomorrow," he said softly, "I’ve got a justice of the peace on speed dial—and I already talked to Dr. Weiss."

His voice was calm but resolute, every word carrying the weight of the future he wanted to build with you.

“Jake, what about my mom, my dad…” you asked, worry creeping into your voice.

“Darlin’,” he said with a small, satisfied smile, “I talked to your dad before I even asked you this.”

Confusion flickered across your face. “But… how? When?”

“He apologized already,” Jake said, his tone warm and just a little smug. “He knew you’d make him.”

He reached for your hand again, grounding you in the moment. “He wants you happy, sweetheart. Just like I do.”

You looked at him, heart fluttering. “When did you plan all this?”

Jake gave you that crooked grin that always made your knees weak. “That night in the back of the truck, when I was holding you. You were falling asleep on my chest, and I told you I’d figure something out.”

He squeezed your hand gently. “I meant every word. I just didn’t want to waste any more time.”

You stared at him, speechless, the ring on your finger catching the light between you like a promise made tangible.

“You talked to my dad…” you repeated, still trying to process it. “Jake, that must’ve taken everything in you.”

He shrugged modestly, but his eyes held something softer—more vulnerable. “It wasn’t easy. But it mattered. You matter.”

Emotion swelled in your chest, thick and overwhelming, and all you could do was whisper, “You really meant it. Every bit of it.”

Jake nodded. “I’ve never been more sure of anything in my life.”

You stepped closer, your forehead resting against his. “You’re making it really hard to even consider Glasgow, you know.”

He smiled, brushing his thumb along your jaw. “Good. Because I’m not afraid of your dreams. I just want to be part of ‘em.”

You took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “I guess I have a really busy day tomorrow.”

Jake smiled, his thumb brushing gently over your knuckles. “Darlin’, you just need to find a dress by the time the sun sets. The rest? It’s all taken care of.”

Your eyes narrowed slightly, a knowing smirk tugging at your lips. “You knew, didn’t you?”

He chuckled, leaning in to press a kiss to your forehead. “I had a feeling you'd say yes. Call it a gut instinct—or maybe just years of knowing your heart.”

Tags: @tylers-twister-gal @smoothdogsgirl @tgmreader @crashingwavesofeuphoria @lunatygerqueen @illisea @findthebeautyinbreakdowns @untitled-document-95 @mrsevans90 @djs8891 @fantasyfootballchampion @khouse712 @literal-tv-menace @malindacath @jackiehollanderr @but-I-write-so-I-must-count

[flowers-inverted]

I made a bnha oc for my fic that literally no one (maybe my partner, they have access to the doc) will read. I needed a hero for Shinsou to intern with. But I'm feeling brave so here:

Hero name: Kikamiwa (i dunno how it actually translates but that doesn't really matter. Anyway it's the monkeys' names combined.)

Quirk: No Evil - She can make anyone who had committed a wrong temporarily deaf, blind, or mute. To work, she needs to have either witnessed the wrong or know the details of it.

[dawngyu]

THE SLOW SURRENDER

Pairing: chaebol husband choi beomgyu x wife chaebol fem!reader

summary: The fear that you’re losing something you never truly had. Your own ring, now too heavy in your palm. A ring that should have meant forever.

Your deepest fear. Your husband.

warnings: reader discretion is advised. infidelity, arranged marriage, slow-burn, angst, toxic dynamics, emotional attachment, miscarriage!, misunderstandings, lovelorn, alcohol!consumption, guilt, repentance, rectification, accident, DUI(pls don't), anxiety!, panic-attack, implication of postpartum!depression, used different idols as ocs. if any of the warnings above might be triggering for you, please step back. let me know if I missed anything.

smut-warnings: MDNI, dubcon, explicit!descriptions, different smut-scenes. guilt-ridden!smut,beomgyu begging and crying while doing"it".

wc: 24k — playlist here.

notes: may this story tear you apart, and somehow, when it’s over, stitch you back together piece by piece.

a big thank you to my beta reader.

How is it that your own wedding makes you want to flee?

"To have and to hold from this day forward, for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, until death do us part."

His voice is strangely distant—the words belong to someone else, rehearsed and repeated.

The ring slips onto your finger, its cold touch startling against your skin. You can’t tell if it’s the chill of the metal that makes you shiver—or the way his voice carries an indifference that seems to sit deep in your chest, pulling your breath with it.

The wedding dress—tailored from the finest silk, adorned with labyrinthine details—feels like something borrowed. Isn’t this supposed to be every girl’s dream? The happiest day of your life? The moment where everything begins—the start of your own family, your own story?

None of it feels like it. Not when he hasn’t said a single word to you since you arrived. It plagues your mind. And all you want to do is kick off the heels that bite into your feet, rip off the tiara that feels like a crown of lead, and run.

You let out a shaky exhale, the breath trembling in your chest when the ring settles on your finger. Your hands slip from his grasp, falling limply to your sides. The vows are done, the words spoken, but all you feel is an overwhelming urge to escape.

Your head turns, seeking the one person who feels safe. Your unsteady gaze finds Soobin, his worried eyes already fixed on you. He gives you a small, almost imperceptible nod, the kind only he would know how to give. All you want is to fall apart—to let the tears come, to crumble into the silent comfort of his eyes, whispering it’s okay.

The pastor’s voice pulls you back, and your soon-to-be husband cups your face with a tenderness that feels reluctance, almost calculated. Hands warm but the eyes that meet yours, cold.

He leans in, and you close your eyes. His lips brush yours, soft, landing just shy of your bottom lip.

“And now, I pronounce you husband and wife,” the pastor declares, the words echoing hollowly in your ears.

Everyone claps.

It's official.

He is now your husband.

"Can you at least smile?" your mother’s sharp voice cuts, gaze fixed on you with her usual expectation. Her lips press together in disapproval. "I don’t want you embarrassing us, honey," she adds, eyes narrowing.

You force a small, strained smile as another guest offers their congratulations. The words feel hollow, and meaningless.

"Mother." Soobin’s voice interrupts, his equally sharp gaze lands on her, and without waiting for her permission, he steps closer, hand brushing your elbow. "We have friends over there. I’ll take Y/N for a bit."

Your mother opens her mouth, distaste printed on her face. "I could go with her—"

"It’s just our friends, Mother," Soobin interjects, his words clipped but polite enough to stop her in her tracks. "Nothing that requires your attention. Besides, I believe Miss Park was trying to get your attention earlier."

Before she can argue further, Soobin’s hand slips into yours, and he gently tugs you away. The grip is reassuring, steady—something to anchor you in this mess.

The crowd seems endless. More congratulations, more empty smiles. Your eyes wander, scanning the room, searching for the one person who should be at your side. But he isn’t there. He isn't… here.

Your husband is nowhere to be found. He vanished as soon as the ceremony ended.

Soobin doesn’t say anything as he leads you into a quiet, empty room. Once inside, he shuts the door firmly behind you, sealing out the noise of the party.

The second the door clicks, his hands are on your face, cradling you like you might break. And you do.

"Soobin," you choke out, your voice trembling. Hot tears stream down your face, and he pulls you into his chest, his arms wrapping around you protectively.

"Shh," he murmurs, his voice shaky, his hand rubbing gentle circles on your back. "It’s okay. Let it out."

The tears come in waves, carrying with them all the weight you’ve been holding in—every forced smile, every empty thank yous, every aching reminder of your husband. That today isn’t what it should be.

"It hurts me," he says, his voice thick with emotion. "It hurts me that my dearest, sister had to go through with this." His words tremble, just like his hands that hold you tightly.

You can’t bring yourself to reply. Instead, you cling to him, your fingers twisting into the fabric of his jacket—making his heart clench. "Where the fuck is he anyway?" his voice betrays his frustration.

"I don’t—I don’t know," you whisper through your sobs. "How am I supposed to do this, Soobin? He wouldn’t even look at me." And beneath it all, the deeper truth haunts you. It isn’t just his absence or his coldness that hurts.

It’s the undeniable, unspoken reality that settles into your bones and refuses to leave: Choi Beomgyu doesn’t love you—not the way you love him.

The echoes of your wedding vows dance in your ears. For better or worse, you hear. For richer or poorer. In sickness and in health.

Until death do us part.

Three families—known as the Choi Enterprises—dominate the landscape of your country.

Names synonymous with power, wealth, and control. Together, they form an empire that touches nearly every facet of life, businesses towering over the economy like unshakable pillars.

Untouchable.

The first family commands the skies. They own the nation’s largest airline, a fleet that spans lands, with Choi Yeonjun, the celebrated heir, poised to inherit it all.

The second family shapes the skyline with their sprawling malls, and colossal structures that symbolize luxury and excess. Choi Beomgyu, their only son, is the face of it.

And then there’s your family, the architects of indulgence. You own the most prestigious hotels in the country, five-star havens that host the rich, the famous, and the powerful. Your brother, Choi Soobin—the prodigy, the golden child who has been groomed for this role his entire life.

And then there’s you. The second child. Since young, you were conditioned, moulded—not to lead, not to build, but to belong to someone else. To be a wife. One whose marriage would serve a purpose, a bargaining chip in a deal that you have no voice to protest.

Every day since you came of age felt like walking on thin ice, never knowing when it would crack beneath you. You lived with the constant dread that your father could announce your engagement at any last moment. If you were lucky, perhaps it would be someone whose face you recognized, or someone whose name didn’t sound foreign on your lips.

The three families have stood side by side for decades, their ties intertwined by history and convenience. With the heirs of each family so close in age, it was inevitable that you all ended up in the same place: a ridiculously expensive university your families could buy their way into.

It was no surprise that you had known Choi Beomgyu since you were children. And that you've loved him since.

Though you could never quite pinpoint when it began.

Your nine-year-old eyes scanned the room, overwhelmed by the sea of adults towering over you. Too many big, tall people, too many unfamiliar faces. It was the first time your dad had brought you along, always choosing your older brother instead. Never you.

“Would you like something to eat, Y/N?” your nanny asked. You shook your head, distracted. You were trying to find your brother, the one you’d begged to follow today, only to lose him. You had thought this place would be exciting, but now, you would have preferred serving tea to your dolls.

This place wasn’t fun at all.

When your nanny got busy with a conversation, you seized the chance to slip away. You weaved through the crowd, ducking under tables when the adults became too dense. You spotted Soobin ahead, standing with his friend—Yeonja? No, Yeonjun. The one who teased you mercilessly whenever he visited your house. They were too far away.

Giggling with excitement, you ran towards them, eager to finally reach your brother. But your foot caught on the edge of a rug, and you fell hard. “Ow.” You whimpered, face smacking the floor. A sharp, stinging pain in your mouth made your eyes well up. You wiped at your lips and froze when your fingers brushed against something small and hard.

Your front tooth had come out. “No. Soobin, Daddy!” you wailed, embarrassment creeping in as people started to stare. You were about to shout again when a boy appeared, no taller than you, holding out a handkerchief.

“Use this,” he said.

“No,” you mumbled.

“Huh?”

“I said I don’t want it.”

He raised an eyebrow, unfazed. “Do you want everyone to think you’re ugly?” His words made you pause, his brown eyes studying you with a mix of curiosity and something else—something protective. The way he stood, it was as if he was shielding you from the judgmental eyes around you. “If you keep crying like that, everyone will think you are.”

The bluntness startled you, and it worked. Your mommy doesn't like it whenever you're crying anyway. She says it's unsightly. You grabbed the handkerchief, sniffling as you dabbed at your mouth. He watched you stand wobbly, one brow raised in quiet observation.

“Soobin?” he asked, recognizing your brother’s name.

You nodded, surprised that he knew.

He nodded back, taking your pinkie in his small hand and leading you across the yard, toward your brother safely.

That day was the day you first met your husband.

"Hey, have you heard? Choi Beomgyu and Park Ji-won broke up for the fourth time this semester," Jake, one of your batchmates, announces with a grin, his voice cutting through the chatter of your little group. The names make you freeze mid-conversation. "It’s hilarious, bro. Ji-won was literally stomping her feet like a kid."

"You little scandalmonger," Ryu-jin quips from beside you, rolling her eyes. "Why are you so invested in them? They’re a batch ahead of us. We don’t even cross paths with them."

You won’t encounter Choi Beomgyu often. The last time you had a proper, civil conversation—one forced by your parents—was when you were fifteen, and even then, your brother had been there too. That was five years ago.

During your first year, Choi Beomgyu was in the second. He got a girlfriend, Park Ji-won, the queen bee of their batch. Beomgyu was already famous, and their relationship quickly gained a reputation of its own, known for its ups and downs, the drama playing out like a spectacle for everyone to watch.

“Uh, h-hi, Y/N.” A boy stammers nervously in front of you. You look up, surprised to see him holding out a small box of chocolates. “I… I made these for you,” he says, his voice barely above a whisper.

A soft smile forms on your lips as you reach out to take it. “Thank you, Hanbin.”

The way his name rolls so easily off your tongue catches him off guard. His eyes widen, and his face flushes a deep shade of red. He stammers out something that might be “you’re welcome” before ducking his head in a quick bow and practically fleeing the scene.

As he disappears into the crowd, Ryu-jin lets out a low whistle, her grin mischievous. “Oh-ho, my ever-charming and impossibly kind Y/N,” she teases, pinching your cheek in a way that makes you laugh and bat her hand away.

You hold the box of chocolates out to her, and without missing a beat, she takes it with a delighted, “Don’t mind if I do!”

“Why do you always know everyone’s names?” Jake asks, leaning over to snag a piece of chocolate before Ryu-jin can stop him. He pops it into his mouth, then gives you a mock incredulous look. “There are way too many people trying to win you over. If I were you, I wouldn’t even bother keeping track.”

You chuckle, shaking your head. “I don’t really try to memorize their names, Jake,” you explain, your voice softening. “But when someone puts themselves out there like that—when they go out of their way to do something kind for me—even if I don’t feel the same, the least I can do is acknowledge it. Knowing their name… it’s just part of respecting the effort they made.”

Jake leans back, arms crossed, pretending to look unimpressed. “You’re way too nice for your own good, you know that?”

The rest of the conversation became a blur. The details didn’t matter—they never really did. Choi Beomgyu had gotten back together with her again. That’s how it always went, didn’t it? Still, your mind dawdled on him, as it often did, bonded to a memory from so long ago: the boy with sceptic eyes and a hand who had guided you safely to your brother.

You couldn’t explain it fully, this quiet pull you felt toward him.

Maybe it was the way he kept to himself at gatherings, speaking only when necessary. His words always carried a weight your mother would later describe as "intelligent," her tone laced with rare approval. It could’ve been his eyes, dark and warm, matching the soft chaos of his hair. Or perhaps it was his low voice, that left a faint shiver dancing along your spine without warning.

Life had always been laid out for you, each piece polished and placed neatly on a silver platter. Nothing ever seemed truly exciting, not when you could have anything you wanted with minimal effort. You’d never been particularly interested in dating, either. Why chase something when the pursuit itself felt dull?

Choi Beomgyu was… different. He wasn’t even someone you could simply talk to. Maybe that’s why he fascinated you so much.

He's impossible to ignore.

"He's sick again… ugh."

The words grated on your nerves, cutting through the hallway like nails on a chalkboard. You were at your locker, minding your own business, stacking books into your bag. Ji-won’s loud voice, drew the attention of everyone within earshot.

You were ready to walk away from the nauseating cheap fog of their perfume, when her next words stopped you cold.

"Beomgyu's sick," she continued, tossing her hair back like it was some grand inconvenience to her. "We went shopping yesterday, and he lent me his umbrella when it rained. Now he's sick. Honestly, such an idiot move."

How could she talk about him like that? Here, in front of all these people, where anyone could hear?

"And I told him not to play basketball today," Ji-won added with a careless shrug. "I mean, it's not like some game is more important than my plans."

Some game? The basketball match wasn’t just some game—it was one of the biggest events of the year, something their team had poured weeks of practice into. And she expected him to ditch it for her whims?

The sharp clang of your locker shutting ripped through the air, louder than you intended when you closed it. The hallway fell silent. Ji-won flinched, startled by the sound, then turned, ready to snap at whoever dared interrupt her. But when her eyes met yours, the words died in her throat.

Your stare pinned her in place, unwavering. The entire hallway seemed to hold its breath, watching, waiting. Everyone knew better than to cross you—Choi trinity’s princess.

After a few long seconds, you broke eye contact, turned on your heel and walked away, each step of your Valentino sandals echoing with you.

As much as you wanted to speak, as much as the words burned at the back of your throat, you couldn’t. Because no matter how much Ji-won infuriated you, no matter how carelessly she spoke about him, this wasn’t your battle to fight.

You had no right to.

Beomgyu wasn’t yours to defend.

You body moved without thinking, pulling your phone out to call your driver. Medicine. Ingredients for a recovery soup. You listed everything quickly, your voice brisk to mask the slight shake in it.

Cooking had always been something you loved. There was a comfort in its simplicity—a recipe was just steps to follow, a methodical course that brought things to life. You liked how it could make someone happy, how it could bring warmth, even when words couldn’t.

When the ingredients arrived, you made your way to the university’s cooking room. It was meant for culinary students, but a single request to the club president had granted you access.

You tied your hair back, rolled up your sleeves and got to work. The familiar motions of chopping, stirring, and seasoning steadied you. The savoury aroma filled the room, spilling over into your senses. When the soup was done, you ladled it into a glass container, the warmth radiating through your hands. Perfect for the chilly wind outside.

It's no surprise that he got sick.

You packed it carefully, along with the medicine, into a small bag, and made your way toward his classroom. Sunghoon had told you where Beomgyu’s seat was, promising to keep it quiet. No one could know about this.

Not even Beomgyu himself.

The classroom was empty when you arrived, just as you’d hoped. Rows of desks stretched before you, soaked in the soft, dim light of late afternoon. Your steps faltered when you unexpectedly spotted him. You were about to turn around when you noticed he was asleep.

There he was, slumped over his desk, his head resting on folded arms. His chest rose and fell in slow, steady breaths, his face flushed with fever.

You swallowed hard, the sight tugging at something deep inside you. His eyelashes, dark and delicate, brushed against his cheeks, and for a moment, he looked so unguarded, so unlike the version of him you were used to seeing.

Slowly, you approached, placing the bag on the desk beside him with the utmost care, as if any sound might disturb him. But as much as you tried to stay quiet, the pounding of your heart seemed impossibly loud in the silence.

You stood there longer than you should have, your gaze lingering on the soft lines of his face. His fever-reddened cheeks, his slightly parted lips—he looked so vulnerable, so human in a way that made your chest ache.

Your breath caught as you turned to leave. It was hard to breathe in this room, hard to ignore the charm he had on you, even now. With one last glance at his sleeping form, you turned and walked out.

It felt like you were leaving your heart with him.

Beomgyu stirs awake, his body aching and cold, as if the chill had seeped into his skin. His head feels heavy, but a faint warmth near him pulls him in. He blinks sluggishly, there's—a container of soup resting on his desk. Soup?

Confused but drawn to it, he sits up slowly, the movement making his head spin. His fingers tremble slightly as he uncaps the container, and the smell that greets him is like a hug he didn’t know he needed. His stomach rumbles in response.

His gaze drops to the items beside it: medicine, utensils, carefully placed. Whoever left this thought of everything.

He picks up the spoon, dipping it into the golden broth. Bringing it to his lips, he tastes it. His eyes widen, a soft sound escaping him—surprised. It’s incredible.

It reminds him of his mother’s cooking, back when she still had time to make him meals. A strange fullness settles in his chest as he takes another spoonful, the warmth spreading, chasing away the numbness. He can’t stop eating—it’s too good.

“Babe?”

The sound of Ji-won’s voice snaps him out of his thoughts. He looks up as she walks in, holding two water bottles. Her eyes land on the container in his hands, her expression flickering with something unreadable.

“Oh,” she says casually, stepping closer.

Beomgyu smiles, his lips curving softly, his voice lighter than it’s been all day. “Did you make this?” he asks, hope threading through his tone. “It’s amazing. Seriously, it’s… it’s so good. Fucking delicious.”

Ji-won blinks, startled by his enthusiasm. He was grumpy and on edge all day because of his fever. Who left this? she wonders, panic flickering beneath her composed exterior, her gaze darts to the container again, then back to Beomgyu, who’s looking at her expectantly.

“Oh, yeah—yeah!” she blurts, forcing a bright smile. “Of course, I made it.”

Beomgyu tilts his head, surprised. “I didn’t know you could cook.”

“Anything for my boyfriend,” Ji-won replies, stepping closer as she places the water bottles on his desk. Her smile feels tight, but she pushes through. “That’s how much I love you.”

He chuckles softly, eating a spoonful again. “Well, I love it. Thank you for this. It made me feel so much better.”

That wasn’t the last time.

You told yourself it would be. Swore it, even. No more going out of your way for him. No more small, secret gestures. But every time you thought it was over, you found yourself pulled back in, like some invisible thread tying you to him.

It started with the soup. The day after you left it, you saw him. His face, pale and tired the day before, was flushed with warmth again, life returning to his features. Sunghoon mentioned, almost offhandedly, how Beomgyu wouldn’t stop bragging about the meal, how he raved about it like it was the best thing he’d ever tasted.

And something about that stuck with you.

From then on, it became quite a bad habit. Throughout college, whenever you heard he was sick, you found yourself leaving small comforts behind. A bottle of tea on his desk, sweets slipped into his lockers during a lecture. And it didn’t stop there.

One time, Beomgyu forgot something important—a book, a charger, you don’t even remember now. You lent yours to Sunghoon, pretending you didn’t care, pretending it wasn’t just another way to help Beomgyu without him knowing.

Because you didn't want anything back.

When rumors spread about him sneaking around with his girlfriend, you stepped in before it escalated. His father will be angry about it, so you talked to that person who caught him, not for his sake but for your own, because the thought of his world unraveling in front of him was something you couldn’t bear to witness.

At least, that’s what you told yourself.

It wasn’t for him. It couldn’t be.

It was for you.

The way your eyes scanned every room at social gatherings, always searching for his familiar face in the crowd. The way you couldn’t relax until you caught sight of him or the way your heart jumped whenever you spotted him, even if he didn’t notice you.

It was an addiction. One you couldn’t seem to break, no matter how many times you promised yourself you’d let go.

Were you in love with him for those four years? Or was it more than that?

"As you already know, this is Y/N, son," Beomgyu's mother announces, her perfectly manicured hands resting lightly on your shoulders. Beomgyu’s gaze meets yours. His hair is longer now, sitting at the edges of his sharp jawline, almost to his shoulders—much different to how you remember him last, on his graduation day. A whole year has passed since then. And you've graduated now too.

His suit—a dark blue so deep it could pass for black—fits him perfectly, exuding quiet sophistication. In contrast, your white Balmain dress feels almost too bright, too bold, clinging to you in a way that leaves no room for subtlety. You feel exposed under his probing eyes.

This morning, your mother had insisted—no, demanded—that you wear an elegant dress. You hadn’t understood why, but now the reason stands clear.

Beside you, your brother Soobin sits rigid, yet observing. He’s always been offensive, and tonight is no exception.

The two Choi family heads are deep in conversation, their voices low but purposeful, like they’re planning something big. It’s just the two families here tonight, seated at an impossibly long table in an equally expensive restaurant. The grandeur of the setting only amplifies it—the entire floor of this lavish place reserved just for this dinner, the emptiness around you making it feel more like a stage than a private meal.

“Your marriage will take place at the end of the year,” Beomgyu’s father declares. The words snap you out of your daze, and your head jerks toward him in shock. A soft gasp escapes your lips before you can stop it.

“What?” Beomgyu’s voice is sharp. His jaw tightens when he leans forward, composure beginning to crack. “You made me end things with Ji-won last week, and now you’re telling me I’m engaged?” He practically spits the words, hands curl into fists on the table. “To someone I don’t even know?”

Ji-won. You flinch involuntarily, hands dropping to your lap. You start picking at your nailbeds. The air feels thick—too thick to breathe.

“Who is that?” Beomgyu’s father demands, his tone filled with disdain. “I told you not to mention that whore again.” His words are venomous, and you barely have time to register the insult before the sound of Beomgyu’s chair scraping against the polished floor reverberates through the room.

Everyone flinches as he rises, his movements full of suppressed fury. Your heart pounds. He stands there seething, glaring at his father, everyone staring, daring for him to do something before he turns on his heel.

You bite your bottom lip, trying to hold yourself together. The sting in your chest is undeniable. Disappointment wells up, as Beomgyu's actions fill the silence you can’t bear to break, your gaze fixed anywhere but the head table. Soobin’s hand suddenly moves into your line of sight, prying yours apart gently—stopping you from further tormenting your hands. His fingers curl around yours, tight.

Beomgyu's retreating footsteps echo, each one louder than the last, leaving a charged silence in their wake.

The next time you see him is on your wedding day.

You didn’t think it would happen like this. You truly didn’t. You’d clung to the faint hope that he’d at least show up before the ceremony—just once. You went to the fittings alone, picked out the rings by yourself, and stood in bakeries surrounded by couples, as you chose the cake flavour on your own. A conversation, even a brief one, might have eased the unease that had settled in your chest like a stone.

Maybe, when the time comes, you’ll work up the courage to ask him if he can at least try to be casual with you.

But every assurance came from his parents—empty promises that fell on ears too tired to process anymore. Your parents clung to those words, desperate for this union. A necessary marriage, they said. A solution.

None of it reassured you. How could it, when the groom himself was nowhere to be found? You never saw him. It was as though you were preparing to marry a ghost.

When he finally sees you, it’s as you walk down the aisle, dressed in a gown that feels heavier than it should. His gaze lands on you, a one-second glance that’s gone before you can even register it. He doesn’t look at you again. Not during the vows, not during the ceremony, not even as you both stand side by side, bound by words you barely believe.

And now, instead of his arms around you, you find yourself sobbing into your brother’s shoulder. Soobin holds you tightly. The irony was funny—it was Soobin, the whole reason to why Beomgyu was introduced to you all those years ago.

Beomgyu, the boy who returned you safely to your brother that night, the one who left a permanent mark so indelible it stayed for years. The same mark that now hurts you, refusing to fade no matter how many years passed.

It's cruel.

Happy 26th birthday baby girl! xoxo

You smiled faintly at Ryujin's text as you stirred the pancake batter you'd made from scratch. The comforting smell of vanilla and butter filled the kitchen—your kitchen.

As much as you endured your parents' endless whims, you had to admit, you loved the simplicity of domesticity. There was something grounding about it. It made you feel useful, capable—like you could create something perfect, even in a life that often felt far from it.

"Y/N." The sound of your name broke your focus. You looked up, catching Beomgyu standing at the doorway. He was already dressed in his usual impeccably tailored suit, his fingers fiddling with the knot of his tie. "I'm heading to the office early today,"

"Again?" Your voice was softer than you'd intended. "At least have breakfast before you go. I can finish this quickly."

"Thank you," he dismissed, gaze shifting away. Avoiding yours. Reminding you the line that's stretched between you cannot ever cross. "But I'll eat at the office. I don't want to be late. I might be back for dinner later. Maybe."

He adjusted his tie one last time, nodded in your direction, and walked out without another word. The soft click of it closing behind him felt louder than it should have.

You swallowed the lump forming in your throat. It was fine. You were used to this. Not because he left early again, but because it was an important day for you. A day you’d spend, once again, without him. Another day spent in the quiet of this too-big penthouse, with no one but yourself for company.

Two years into your marriage, you had learned to temper your expectations. Love was never meant to be part of the deal, and you had told yourself, over and over, that you didn’t need it. But no amount of reason could stop your heart from aching, from yearning—for Beomgyu to see you. Not as a piece of some agreement or a cog in the machinery of alliances, but as a person. As you.

Maybe even as a friend.

He wasn’t unkind. Not once had he raised his voice or shown you disrespect. But in some ways, his indifference stung more. He was here, yet not here—like a shadow that lived in the same space but never touched yours.

And sometimes, you wished that he would be mean to you, he would shout at you or he would hurt you—at least then, there would be something to feel. You hate that you gave him power over yourself.

You told your mother about it—you never saw your parents love each other, not in a way that felt real, not in front of you. She offered one thing that made sense to you.

Someday, you'll have children, and your child will give you a new purpose. You wanted to push back, to argue, but the next words stopped you cold—“Because if being an invisible wife isn’t enough, your children will see you.” You didn’t want to bring a child into this—into a life painted in shades of grey. An innocent child shouldn’t have to bear it. A child born not out of love? The thought made your chest tighten.

And yet, in the darkest, most desperate corners of your mind, another voice whispered something wicked. A voice that insisted maybe it wouldn’t be so bad.

You sighed, finding the courage to pick up the spoon to eat, imagining a child sitting across from you, soft brown eyes mirroring his.

Alone, but somehow, it felt a little less lonely.

"Boss, there's a party later. It's Mr. Yoon's farewell dinner."

Beomgyu glanced up from his laptop, his secretary’s voice pulling him from the post-meeting haze. Mr. Yoon—one of his father’s most loyal employees, someone who had been with the company for years. Letting this occasion go unnoticed wasn’t an option, not for someone like him.

Later that evening, Beomgyu arrived at the resto-bar, the space already alive with the hum of laughter and conversation. As soon as he stepped inside, heads turned. Employees greeted him with a mix of respect and warmth, but his smile, though polite, didn’t reach his eyes. It was business, like always. When someone announced that the night’s tab was on him, a wave of cheers erupted, but Beomgyu barely reacted. He offered only a nod before grabbing a beer and retreating into his thoughts. Are you asleep—

"Omg, Beomgyu?"

The familiar voice jolted him. He turned his head sharply, and there she was—Ji-won. Her platinum blonde bleached hair gleamed under the bar lights, her lips curved into a playful smile. She looked almost the same, except more polished. She hadn’t changed much, down to the way her manicured fingers grazed her cheek as she tucked her hair behind her ears.

"It's you! I haven't seen you in what, two years? Almost?" she said, her tone bright, her lashes fluttering in the way she knew he once liked.

"Yeah," Beomgyu replied curtly, his voice neutral. "Nice to see you here." He grabbed his beer and took a long sip. Her laugh rang out, light and infectious, the same laugh that used to feel like heaven to him. She knew exactly what to do, exactly how to pull him in.

Beomgyu raised his beer and took a long sip again, letting the alcohol burn its way down. He probably should go now. Her friends surrounded them, teasing and nudging, playful comments flying back and forth. He stayed composed, answering in clipped sentences, trying to keep his distance. He just needs to find the time to excuse himself.

But at some point, her friends drifted away, leaving her behind—drunk and alone, leaning heavily against the table. Beomgyu sighed, running a hand through his hair. He could have left her there. Maybe he should have. But instead, he found himself walking over.

"Come on," he said quietly, offering his hand. "Let me take you home."

She looked up at him, her eyes glassy but soft, and smiled. It was a smile that used to mean so much more.

Her warm hands envelop his.

The drive to her address was heavy with silence. Ji-won kept glancing at him, her eyes longing, but Beomgyu stayed focused on the road. Her address glowed faintly from his phone’s GPS. When they arrived, he got out, rounding the car to help her. She wobbled slightly, her drunken state evident, but he steadied her without a word and walked her to her door. She didn’t let go of his arm.

As they reached her doorstep, she turned to him, her voice trembling, raw. “Did you forget all about me already?” she asked, her voice breaking slightly. “Because… because I haven’t. It's still you, Beomgyu. I still love you.”

The words stopped him cold. He looked at her then—really looked at her. The faint blush on her cheeks, the way her hair fell messily over her shoulders, and that familiar scent of her perfume. Memories flashed. The way she’d cried when he said goodbye. The way she’d begged him to stay, her arms wrapped around him like she could keep him forever. He remembered the way he had talked to his father—looking for any chance. Only to be met with a no. A hard, unrelenting no.

It was too much. She's too familiar. He's too close.

And then, she leaned in.

Her lips touched his, soft just like they used to be. He shouldn’t. But when the small of her hands gripped the lapels of his suit, pulling him closer, he kissed her back.

It wasn’t gentle—it was desperate, messy, like trying to reclaim something lost. Her body pressed against his, and the sound of her soft moan made him grip her arms. He presses her against the door. Her hands tried to open the front door for them to go inside. It felt like a reunion, a fleeting taste of something they weren’t supposed to have.

But then she whispered against his lips, “Do you think we’d be married now if your father hadn’t stopped us?”

The word married—hit him, made him open his eyes, freezing in place.

He pulled away, his breath ragged, staring at her. His lips still burned with the sin of hers. What the hell was he doing?

Ji-won stared at him, her expression a mix of confusion and hurt. “Beomgyu—” she started, but he shook his head, taking another step back.

“I… I can’t,” he muttered, more to himself than to her.

Without waiting for her response, he turned and walked away, his steps hurried and uneven. She reached for him—called his name, voice crying, but he didn’t stop. He couldn’t.

All he could see was your face.

At home. Waiting for him. Leaning to the countertop with your stupidly sweet unnecessary smile. The crinkle by your eyes. It flashes over and over, drowning out everyone, and everything else.

Beomgyu gets into his car, his hands trembling as he fumbles with the keys. The engine roars to life with an urgency that matches his racing thoughts.

His grip tightens on the wheel as the image of Ji-won flashes in his mind. Her words. Her touch. The kiss. His stomach churns. What the hell was he thinking? Did he still love her?

The elevator ride to your floor feels agonizingly slow, every second stretching endlessly. He can barely hear his own breathing over the pounding of his heart. When the doors open, he steps out hesitantly, his footsteps dragging as he approaches the front door.

He pauses in the entryway, his eyes scanning the room until they land on you.

He sees you.

You're curled up on the couch, your head resting on a pillow, a blanket draped loosely over your legs. His eyes dart on the kitchen, there sits a plate of untouched food, now cold. Dinner.

His chest tightens. You waited for him. Despite everything—despite the fact that he’d made no promises, despite the countless nights like this—you still waited.

How? he thinks, his mind reeling. How could you wait for him, when he hadn't given you anything to hold on to?

He glances at the clock on the wall. 6 a.m. His jaw clenches. He hadn’t even noticed the time had passed. He’d been so caught up at the party, so lost in the haze of old memories and poor decisions, that he’d forgotten about you entirely.

He steps closer, his gaze softening as it falls on your face. You look peaceful, your breathing even, your features illuminated by the dim light filtering in from the window. There’s something unfamiliar stirring in his chest.

The urge to reach out, to touch you, is overwhelming. But as his eyes fall to your lips, a shameful reminder washes over him—he knows that his lips had been with someone else only minutes ago.

It would be cruel to let it stain the divine of your skin.

“Come here,” Beomgyu spoke, which made you look at him through the mirror for a couple of seconds before seeing him beckon you over. You walked towards him, about to sit on the edge of the bed, when he grabbed your arm and sat you between his thighs.

“What is it?” you asked softly. You felt his arms tighten slightly around you, his fingers brushing the fabric of your robe. He hadn’t spoken to you all day, hadn’t so much as looked at you too. You just got out of your shower when you saw him sitting in your bed. And now, here he was—unexpected, yet demanding this closeness.

He didn’t answer. Instead, his lips pressed against the curve of your shoulder. You could feel his breath, warm against your skin. His hand slid slowly from your waist to your side, tracing the outline of your frame. You swallowed hard, your pulse quickening. You knew what this was. What he wanted. What he was about to do.

This was the pattern you had grown to recognise. The times he came to you like this, seeking the comfort your body could offer. The way his touch made you feel seen. And when morning came, like always, he would retreat—pulling away, storms behind his eye, leaving you to wrestle with the hollow ache in your chest.

Nights like this made it hurt more.

“Nothing.” He says. You felt his hand caress your thigh as he kisses your shoulder. He turns you around. He licked his lips before letting it explore the inside of your mouth, making you moan. He grunts in your mouth as his hand snakes to the inside of your thighs, kneading the soft flesh.

He pushes his clothed crotch to your heat. He removes the top part of your robe, his lips easily finding themselves on your nipple, kissing around it before hungrily latching his mouth on it. The feeling of his wet tongue circling your bead and the growing tent on his pants rubbing on you made your body heat up.

You should push him away.

But then he looked up into your eyes, almost begging. It's soft, glassy which makes you wonder if you're ever going to see it other than like this. At that moment, the truth hit you: this was all he could offer. This collision, the press of his skin against yours—this was all you’d ever have of him. The pain intensified. He goes up and captures your lips again.

“I want to be inside you,” he murmured against your kisses. Fine, you thought. Just this once more—one last time. You placed your hands on his chest, pushing him back gently, turned around and got on all fours. You arched your back, pressing your head onto the mattress. Your ass was in the air, and you were exposed to him. Hearing him move behind you made you close your eyes.

Beomgyu was shocked. For you to offer yourself like this, so quickly, caught him off guard. He blinked, taking in the curve of your back, and the way you presented yourself.

You felt his tip rub against your folds and swollen clit, making you whine. He pulled your legs farther apart before plunging two fingers to make sure you were ready to take him.

You moaned, feeling his long fingers massage your walls. Your wetness trickled on his hand, and it only made him harder. He sucked his fingers when he pulled out. You felt every inch, his cock reaching places that made your body arch instinctively beneath.

It burns, and it burns so good.

“You're always fucking tight.” He kneads your ass cheeks, thrusting slowly at first before gradually increasing in speed. You felt so full as he pushed into you. He reached for your clit as you buried your face into the pillow. “Y/N…” His hard cock reaches the deepest parts of you. Beomgyu flipped your body without warning, and your arm immediately flew to your face. You turned your face away from him, not knowing that he’s been observing you.

You’ve been hiding your face the whole time as much as you can. Seeing his eyes felt unbearable. Because meeting his eyes will make you want him. To want him more than this. Something he will never be able to give.

“Y/N…I want to see your face.” He grabbed your hand to move them away, and Beomgyu felt a pang in his chest when he saw your swollen eyes and tear-stained cheeks. You were sobbing underneath him.

“Please…” Your voice cracked, barely a whisper. “Just make me cum. Okay?”

You were breaking your own heart, chasing his own. And as he stared down at you, his indifference, the wall he’d built so carefully around himself, was killing you.

“What's wrong?” He urges you. His thrusts are unceasing as tears continue to fall down from your eyes. “Y/N…” Your orgasm hits you hard. Your toes curled as you cried out his name. Your walls were squeezing his cock. He grunts at how tight you feel around him. His hands were gripping the back of your knees as his hips stuttered, about to reach his own climax.

Even as he continued to move, his pace sloppy and desperate, your quiet sobs filled the room, uncontrollable. Beomgyu stilled above you, his heart twisting painfully at the sound. He hated himself—hated the way he’d reduced you to this.

You feel his hot cum inside you. When he finally pulled away, he collapsed beside you, the bed dipping under his weight. His unsure eyes drifted to you, curled up in the blankets, your shoulders shaking as you tried to stifle your cries. You moved your whole body under the sheets, clung to the fabric like it was the only thing holding you together.

Hiding. Hiding from the one who was supposed to be your other half.

The sight of you like this made his throat tighten, his chest heavy with something he couldn’t put into words. He had never wanted to hurt you, yet here you were.

That night, Beomgyu lay unable to find sleep, staring at the unfamiliar ceiling of your bedroom walls. You were an angel, one he had broken with his own hands.

You wake up, heart racing.

Your hands instinctively move to your face. It’s that dream again. The same one that’s haunted you night after night. The memory of him. That night. The last time Beomgyu touched you. It’s been just over four weeks.

Even in sleep, he doesn’t let you go.

You blinked, your surroundings blurry in the faint light of your room. How did you get here? You were sure you’d fallen asleep on the couch. The question barely settles before an uneasy twist in your stomach pulls you back to the present. A wave of nausea rushes through you, sharp and sudden.

Your hand flies to your mouth as you scramble out of bed, your legs barely keeping up as you dart to the bathroom. You made it just in time, collapsing onto your knees as your body seized itself forward. The bitter taste burned your throat, each heave leaving you weaker than the last. You sat there, gripping the cool edge of the toilet, tears slipping silently down your cheeks.

You pushed yourself up, legs still shaky, and made your way to the sink. The cold water was a welcome distraction, splashing against your skin and dripping down in rivulets. You scrubbed at your face harder than you needed to, as if the water could somehow rinse away more than just the sweat clinging to your skin.

Grabbing a towel, you patted your face dry, letting your gaze drift to the untouched box of tampons sitting quietly on the shelf.

“Y/N?” The knock on your door startled you. Tossing the towel aside, you stepped out of the small bathroom and crossed the room to open the door.

There he stood, his dark eyes locking onto yours the second the door opened. He scanned your face. “Are… are you okay? I heard a loud thump.” His voice was uneven, like he wasn’t sure he should even be asking.

“I’m fine,” you said quickly. You moved to step past him, but the moment you did, he took a cautious step back, his body shifting as though he couldn’t bear to be too close.

It stung, but you didn’t let it show. “Have you eaten yet?”

“No,” he replies, eyes darting to the vases on the table. “You got flowers?” Beomgyu’s stares on your face. The way your face softens at the mention of them—he notices it instantly. He doesn’t like it—not one bit.

“They were given to me.”

“Two dozen?” he presses, “By who?”

“Soobin,”

“And?” he asks again, though there’s no need. He already knows who.

“Yeonjun,” The name lands heavy between you.

His jaw tightens. “He dropped them off here yesterday? Why did—” His words tumble out quickly, too quickly.

Because it's your birthday.

“He was with Soobin, Beomgyu,” you interrupt, brushing past him toward the refrigerator. Your steps feel heavier than they should Blinking, you try to push the swelling emotions back down. Normally, you’d brush this off. So why does it feel so different today? Why are you getting emotional? You pull out a bottle of water, taking a long sip to steady yourself before asking, “What time did you come home yesterday?”

Silence.

You drink slowly, giving him time to answer, but he doesn’t. The room feels stifling in the stillness, the hum of the refrigerator suddenly too loud. You set your empty glass on the table with a dull thud, your eyes drifting back to him.

He’s standing there in his usual morning look—white shirt hanging loose, black pyjama pants slightly wrinkled. His hair is a mess from sleep, and his skin looks paler in the soft light. There’s something about how vulnerable he looks in the mornings that always catches you off guard.

He's painfully beautiful.

“Around the morning,” He's hesitant. He doesn’t elaborate, doesn’t meet your eyes, and the tightness in your chest only grows. There’s an ugly nagging feeling at the edges of your thoughts.

“I’ll go get ready for work,” he says, shutting the conversation before it even has a chance to go further.

It doesn't surprise you anymore.

You step into the opulent glow of the five-star Skyline Restaurant, the clink of fine china and hushed laughter swirled around. Fingers gripping your white Dior purse, you scan the room, heels clicking against the polished marble floor. Your eyes sweep over faces until a familiar one stops you in your tracks.

“Pretty girl.” Ryujin’s voice called out, smooth and warm. She raises a hand in a poised wave, her lips curling into a small, knowing smile. You mirror her expression, weaving your way toward her. Heads turn as you pass, your perfume—delicate yet potent.

“How are you?” she asks as you reach her, gaze soft yet probing.

“I’m okay,” you reply, sinking into the plush couch across from her. The tension in your shoulders eases, if only slightly. “Thank you for the gifts, by the way. And I’m sorry I couldn’t meet up with you yesterday, like you wanted.”

“I understand.” Her reply is casual, but her eyes betray her. They flicker to the dark crescents under yours, the ones you’ve tried to conceal but can never quite hide. “It’s always him, isn’t it? At the end of the day.”

Your fingers wrap around the porcelain cup in front of you. The tea is hot against your palms, and you take a tentative sip. It tasted faintly of jasmine, soothing and bittersweet. The silence between you stretches.

“Y/N.” Her voice pulls you back, insistent. Your eyes meet hers, and for a moment, you can’t look away. “He’s the reason you’re like this. It doesn't have to be, but he made it this way. You see that, don’t you?”

"I know."

Ryujin’s eyes flickered with hesitation, the way someone falters before delivering a blow. Eyes darting between you and the untouched tea in front of her. “I don’t want you to get hurt,” she began, her voice soft but unsteady. “But I… I heard something.”

Her words made your heart clench. “What is it?”

“I mean, I’m not completely sure, but it came from someone I trust and—”

“Ryujin,” you snapped, sharper than you intended. Your chest tightened as dread crept in. “Tell me.”

She hesitated, her lips parting slightly before closing again. “Did he spend the night with you yesterday?”

You felt the world shift under your feet. You opened your mouth to speak, but nothing came out. Your silence was enough.

He wasn't.

Ryujin’s expression softened, pity creeping into her features, “I—there was a party,” she said, her voice quieter now, hesitant. “One with Beomgyu and Ji-won.”

The name made your stomach drop.

“They were together all night,” she said, her words rushed, like she wanted to get them out before she lost her nerve. “And someone… someone saw them. Beomgyu practically carried her into his car. They left together.”

Your vision blurred for a second, the edges of the room fading as her words registered. You forced yourself to blink, to breathe. “Oh,” you whispered.

Ryujin stood abruptly and moved to sit beside you, taking your trembling hands into hers. “Confront him,” she urged. “Find out if it’s true.” She squeezed your hands. “I’m so tired of seeing you like this. Always giving and giving while he takes whatever’s left of you.” Her voice cracked. “Loving him silently. Loving him so hard isn’t going to make him love you back.”

You didn’t even realise you were crying until the tears started dripping onto your lap, soaking into the fabric of your dress. Ryujin hated it. She remembered you in college—how you laughed so freely, how your eyes sparkled. But now, that light she admired so much was dimming, as if someone had reached inside you and quietly stolen it piece by piece.

Ryujin swallowed hard, blinking back her own tears as she watched yours fall. How hurt must you be to cry like this—without a sound, without even a gasp? Just the quiet, stream of tears slipping down your face, carving paths of pain?

She hated seeing you like this—hated how one person had managed to turn the full-bloomed, radiant version of you into a shadow of yourself, a bud closed off to the world. That someone can easily break you, when you spent years building yourself.

You're waiting.

It's 10 p.m. The hours have crawled by since you drove back here. You look around. This space, where you are supposed to build a family, where love is supposed to be—is nothing but a cold place to you.

You're sitting on the couch, the same couch you’ve spent countless nights on, staring at the clock, waiting for him. Your hands rest in your lap, trembling slightly, though you don’t realise it. With nothing but fear, the fear that you’re losing something you never truly had.

Your phone buzzes again. Two names alternate, calling over and over. You don’t pick up. You don’t even look. You can’t.

Because the truth is, you don’t know if you’ll make it through the night without hearing from him. Your husband.

The elevator dings softly, and Beomgyu steps into the penthouse. His tie hangs loose around his neck, his hair tousled and far from his usual pristine self. He looks tired, distracted—like he’s been anywhere but here. His eyes met yours.

"Why are you still awake—"

"Do you think I don’t know what you’ve done?" Your voice cuts, trembling. You see his eyes widen, just a fraction. It’s so small you almost missed it.

"Ji-won." Her name burns as it leaves your mouth, bitter. His eyes flicker toward you for just a second—a split second, just long enough to know that he heard—but there is nothing in them. Nothing.

He moves with calculated slowness, setting his bag down on the table, adjusting the cuffs of his sleeves. Time ticked. He doesn’t even try to explain. Doesn’t even look at you long enough for you to find a trace of the man you once thought you knew. His thumb brushes over his ring like it’s something he’s forgotten. A ring that should have meant forever.

"I can handle it all, Choi Beomgyu," you say, your voice firmer now, though your hands tremble at your sides. "I’ve handled it all, haven’t I? I didn’t say anything when you kept talking about her—days after we got married—on our honeymoon, or right in front of your family."

His back stiffens, his hands gripping the edge of the countertop. Beomgyu swallows the lump in his throat.

"Not once in these two years did I tell you how small you made me feel, how you made me feel like I didn’t belong in your world. Like I was a stranger in my own marriage." Your voice cracks, but you keep going. "I stayed silent, And after all of that—after everything—I stayed. I stayed because I thought… maybe it was enough. And yet, you still chose to cheat on me?"

You’re shaking now, and your voice rises despite your best efforts to keep it steady. "If you had just come to me and said you didn’t want this anymore, I would’ve let you go. I would’ve walked away, Beomgyu. Because everything I’ve done—every single thing—has been for you. For this marriage. For our families."

His head finally lifts, and his eyes meet yours. You hate how you feel small under his gaze, how his silence feels like a condemnation of your own vulnerability.

Beomgyu swallows hard, his jaw tightening. "That’s not what happened, Y/N."

"That you didn’t go home with her? That you weren’t with her on my fucking birthday?"

Your words hit him like a punch, and his eyes widen, the crack in his composure visible now.

"What?"

"You heard me." The burden festering inside you for so long is finally out. It feels small, inadequate even, but you don’t care anymore. You can’t. You can feel his eyes on you, and it's your turn to refuse to meet them. You’re done searching his face for answers that will never come.

You rise from the couch, your movements sharp, fueled by hurt and exhaustion. Steps are quick, your breaths are shallow as you reach your room. The door slams shut behind you with a force that echoes behind. Your hands tremble as you swipe on your phone. Tears blur your vision, falling onto the screen as you scroll, fingers fumbling to find the number you need.

You don’t think. You can’t. The tears are hot and relentless, burning tracks down your cheeks as you press the call button.

The line clicks immediately.

Outside your room, Beomgyu stands in the hallway, pacing back and forth. His footsteps are uneven, restless. The truth is, he doesn’t know what to say. He doesn’t even know where to begin. Every time he tries to form the words in his head, they fall apart before they can leave his lips.

How can he explain it? How can he make you understand? He never thought it would come to this—never thought he’d have to say it out loud. He’d always believed he could keep it buried, that you’d never find out.

He presses a hand to his forehead, exhaling sharply. He hasn’t spoken to Ji-won since that night. Not once. She tried to reach out—texts, calls, even showing up unannounced—but he shut it all down. He shut her out.

The irony isn’t lost on him. He, who once was hopelessly in love with her had turned his back on her entirely. What surprised him the most was how easy it was. All it took was thinking of you.

And the sight of your tears now terrifies him.

Beomgyu has always been a confident man. He was raised to be one. It’s who he was taught to be—the man who could command a room, close deals, deliver speeches without a stutter. But none of that matters now. Standing here, in front of your door, he feels small. Helpless. Negotiating with the world is one thing; facing the pain in your eyes is another.

He sighs, dragging his hands through his hair in frustration. His chest feels tight, his mind racing. He should knock. He knows he should try—should say something, anything.

He lifts his hand to knock, but the door swings open before he can. Your eyes meet his—red, swollen, glassy with unshed tears—and it feels like the air is knocked out of him. Beomgyu's chest tightens painfully, and then his gaze falls to the suitcase in your hand,"Where are you going?"

You don’t answer. Instead, you step past him, avoiding even the smallest brush against him. The sound of your suitcase wheels echoes in the hall. His heart stutters, his feet frozen in place.

"Y/N," he pleads, reaching for your wrist. His eyes flicker down to your hand, and the absence of your ring feels like a blow he wasn’t ready for.

"Beomgyu," you say quietly, pulling your hand away from his grasp."I’m going to stay with my brother for a while."

You don’t wait for his response. You can’t. If you stop now—if you meet his eyes again—you might change your mind. You walk toward the elevator, heart pounding, and breaking, but you don’t look back. When he doesn’t follow, when he doesn’t try to stop you, it cracks a little more.

The elevator doors begin to close, you think that’s it.This is the end. But then, his hand darts between the doors, forcing them open. You glance up in surprise. You've never seen him this unsure, or nervous before.

"At least let me see you out," he says softly. "Please,"

He stares at you. You nod, stepping aside to make room for him. Neither of you speaks, and the distance between you feels impossibly wide, even in the small space.

"Call me if you ever want to talk again," he finally breaks the silence, eyes fixed on the ground, "I’ll wait for you," You don’t respond, your throat tightening as you stare straight ahead, willing yourself not to cry.

Perhaps, it is his turn to wait for you.

It’s the longest elevator ride of your life.

In the parking lot, your brother is the first thing you see—tall and imposing, his glasses doing nothing to soften the sharp frown etched across his face. His eyes sweep over you, landing on the suitcase in your hand before darting behind you. The worry darkens instantly into anger when he sees Beomgyu trailing a few steps behind.

"You fucker," Soobin spits, brushing past you to square off with him. His voice is cold and furious. Beomgyu doesn’t flinch, doesn’t back down, even as your brother towers over him.

"I gave you the benefit of the doubt," Soobin growls. "I thought, at the very least, you’d treat my sister with the respect she deserves. But you—"

"Soobin, stop!" You step forward, your hands desperately reaching out to hold your brother’s fists clenched at his sides. "Please, let’s just go."

He hesitates, jaw tightening as he swallows his anger. With a final, scathing glare at Beomgyu, Soobin turns away. He reached for your suitcase, grabbed it without a word and shoved it into the trunk of his car. Then he opens the passenger door, his expression softening ever so slightly as he looks at you. "Get inside."

You slide into the car, your hands trembling as you clutch them in your lap. Soobin slams the door shut behind you, the sound shouting in the empty parking lot like a final warning.

Beomgyu stands there eyes never leaving your form, unmoving, as the car engine roars to life. His chest feels like it’s caving in as he watches Soobin pull away, the tyres screeching against the pavement. It’s almost insulting, the way the sound seems to echo his own turmoil.

His eyes follow the car until it vanishes from sight, leaving nothing but silence and the crushing weight of knowing you’re gone.

Beomgyu steps back, dragging his feet to somehow delay the reality settling in around him. Every few steps, he glances over his shoulder, the faintest flicker of hope burning in his chest. Maybe you’d be there. Maybe you’d come back.

Maybe this was just a nightmare he hadn’t woken up from yet.

But you didn't.

The elevator doors slide open, and he strides inside, his mind blank and racing all at once. He walks, heading straight to the kitchen for water—something to soothe the dryness in his throat, the tightness in his chest. But as he passes the living room, his eyes catch on the portrait hanging above the mantel.

The wedding photo.

It hangs on there, just as it always has, but tonight it feels unbearable. His eyes lock on your face, and he falters. How could he have missed it? The slight redness in your eyes, the way your smile looks stretched too thin. How can a bride look so unhappy? How did it take him this long to realise how beautiful you looked that day—despite everything? How could he have failed to tell you?

How could he have been so blind?

He wasn’t the only one hurting that day. You had to stand there, dressed in white, while he grieved for someone else. On the day that was supposed to be yours, his mind had been somewhere else, tangled in memories of a woman who wasn’t you. And he never talked to you about it—not once. He never told you what you needed to hear. That it wasn’t your fault. That none of it was your fault.

He blinks hard, his vision blurring. The cracks were always there, weren’t they? Small at first, almost invisible, but they spread, creeping through everything until you were barely holding on. And he didn’t see it. He didn’t see you. Now, he stares at the picture like it might give him some kind of answer, some kind of clue to undo it all, but all it does is make the ache in his chest grow sharper.

He wished he had known. He wished he had known that the hurt consuming him would fade. He wished he could’ve said it all sooner, when the chance was still there. To tell you the truth. That he indeed had kissed her. That it was a mistake. He should have fallen to his knees and begged you to forgive him.

Would it have made a difference? Could one moment of honesty, one action, one choice have been enough to hold you here, to make you stay?

"Fuck," His voice was unsteady, tears stinging his eyes—tears he didn’t even know he was capable of. He can’t remember the last time he cried. Maybe he never has. He never cried. His hand moves on instinct, reaching for the cabinet, but instead of a glass, his fingers close around the neck of the whisky bottle. Water won’t cut it tonight. He twists the cap off, letting it fall to the counter with a hollow clink, and takes a long, burning sip.

It doesn't dull anything. Not yet. So he drinks.

It’s only been an hour—barely even that—since you left, but it feels like his world is already collapsing.

You wake up groggy, your head spinning and eyes feeling heavy. You can’t remember when you fell asleep or even how. You shift on the bed—Soobin must have carried you here.

Right. You’re at his place now.

"Y/N, you awake?" your brother’s voice carries down the hall, accompanied by the mouthwatering smell of bacon. Your stomach growls unexpectedly. You drag yourself out of bed, splash water on your face in the bathroom, and head out of the room.

“Good morning,” you mumble, stepping into the kitchen. The sight of Soobin setting down a plate of pancakes and Yeonjun grinning at you makes your chest feel warm.

Yeonjun stands and strides over, wrapping you in a tight hug. His hugs are always the warmest. He’s your brother’s best friend, someone who’s been in your life long enough to feel like family. He's known you since you were children, and you see him as your own brother.

He rests his hands on your shoulders, guiding you to the table as the corners of your lips tug into a soft smile you can’t seem to hold back. You sit down, and Soobin begins piling food onto your plate.

"Do you have any plans today?" Soobin asks casually, his focus still on divvying up breakfast.

“None, really,” you reply, your attention entirely on the bacon in front of you. Your stomach practically growls in anticipation, and without waiting, you dig in.

A little too eagerly, apparently. You choke, coughing as you try to swallow too quickly.

Yeonjun’s reaction is immediate—he’s already filling a glass of water before you even finish coughing. He places it in front of you and grabs a few napkins, sliding them your way with a concerned look. “Slow down, Y/N,” he says, his tone gentle but firm.

“Sorry,” you croak out, taking a sip of water to soothe your throat.

Last night, when you arrived, your brother didn’t ask for explanations. He didn’t push, didn’t pry. Instead, he pulled you into a hug, letting you collapse into him, tears soaking into his shirt as you broke down.

You heard him curse, his voice tight with restrained anger, but he didn’t say anything else. He just let you cry. His hands rested firmly on your back.

He didn’t ask because he knew. He knew that words wouldn’t help—not now. And maybe, he was afraid that asking would only deepen the pain already spreading through you.

It’s the reason Soobin hasn’t married yet. He’s had plenty of offers—proposals that would benefit his business, alliances that would make sense on paper. But none of it feels right. Not when he knows what you’ve endured.

He can't forget the look on your face on the day of your wedding. He keeps his distance, telling himself he has no right to fall in love or build a life of his own. How could he, knowing the choice was never yours? How could he allow himself to stand in the light of his own happiness, knowing it would only cast a longer shadow over you?

It would be unfair. Unfair to chase his own happiness.

He’s afraid. Afraid that loving someone, finding joy in his own marriage, would feel like betrayal or it would mean abandoning you to face your burdens alone.

"How are you?" Yeonjun asks, his gaze lingering on the dark circles under your eyes. His frown deepens.

"I'm… better," you say, the words catching in your throat as you force them out. It’s a lie, and you both know it. You’re far from better. Not when the image of Beomgyu standing in the parking lot, staring at you as you left, keeps haunting you. He looked… You shake your head, forcing the thought away.

You can’t go there—not now.

“There’s a party this weekend,” Yeonjun says, trying to sound lighthearted as he takes a bite of his food. “Some kind of school reunion. I think it’s three batches combined. You should come with us.”

"Yeah," you mumble, poking at your plate. "Ryu-jin’s been bugging me about it. Since Jakey won’t be able to make it—he’s overseas right now."

But the words falter on your lips as the thought you’ve been trying to avoid pushes its way forward. You don’t have to say it out loud; it’s already there, written on your face. Beomgyu. He might be there.

"He won’t be," Soobin says firmly, it's almost as if he read your thoughts. "I made sure of it. And if, by some chance, he shows up, I’ll stick by your side all night."

Your eyes flick over to Yeonjun, and he gives you a slight nod, his expression softening. "I’ll be there too,"

The days pass in a haze, each one blurring into the next, but this time, you’re not navigating them by yourself. You lean on your brother more than you ever thought you would, and somehow, he never seems to mind.

Soobin, who skips work without a second thought, pulling you out of the house when he sees you sinking too deep into yourself. He drags you to museums, to quiet cafés, or even just for drives with no destination.

And then there’s Yeonjun. No matter how busy his life is, he keeps... showing up. When Soobin’s tied up, Yeonjun is there, knocking on your door with his humor pulling reluctant smiles from you when you least expect it.

It’s not perfect—it’s still hard. Some days, you still lock your doors and don't come out no matter how many times they knock. There are days you don't even utter a single word. But they’re there, both of them, holding you up when you can’t do it yourself.

For the first time in two years, you don't feel alone.

“He’s not on the list, don’t worry,” Ryu-jin’s voice crackles through the speaker of your phone. You grip the steering wheel a little tighter, your eyes fixed on the road ahead. Soobin’s car leads in the lane in front of you.

"It's fine," you say, "It's not like I'm going for him, anyway."

"Okay. See you there," Ryu-jin replies before hanging up. You swallow hard, trying to push down yet another nausea rising in your throat. You focus on the road.

When you arrive, you walk alongside Soobin toward the entrance. Heads turn, whispers ripple through the crowd. The two of you—the university’s so-called power siblings—command attention without even trying. People smile, greet you, and their eyes linger on your Dior dress, but you barely notice.

“You’re finally here,” Yeonjun’s familiar voice calls out as he approaches, his warm smile cutting the tension in your chest. He grabs your arm gently, pulling you closer. “I’m glad you came,” he says softly, his eyes holding yours before focusing on Soobin.

"You're early." Soobin exchanges a quick greeting with him, heading off briefly to grab drinks for the three of you.

“Y/N!” Ryu-jin throws her arms around you, grinning as her eyes sweep over you. “Why do you always have to look this good?” she teases playfully. You laugh softly, a flicker of warmth in an otherwise heavy evening. The four of you settle at a table, waiting for the event to begin.

The night feels… okay. Not great, not life-changing, but okay. A simple glimpse of normalcy.

The week leading up to tonight lingers in your mind. Beomgyu’s messages. The flowers left at Soobin’s door. The missed calls that filled your screen, each one a reminder of everything you’ve been trying to forget.

You ignored them all. You had to.

Even now, standing here among friends, the memories creep in when you least expect them. Every time you close your eyes, you see them. You see her. And you see him.

And all the things that could’ve happened between them.

No matter how hard you try, the ghosts cling to you, refusing to let go.

You scrub your hands under the cold stream of water, the scent of soap mingling with the sterile air. The sound of the bathroom door creaking open doesn’t register at first—not until you hear her voice.

“Hi, Y/N.” You freeze, your stomach twisting before you even turn around. Through the mirror, her face appears behind you—Ji-won. The last person you wanted to see.

“What do you want?” Your reflection betrays the tension in your jaw. Your stomach twists violently. You don’t want to do this. Not here. Not now.

“Look, I just… I just wanted to say I’m sorry. About what happened between you and Beomgyu.” Her words falter, her tone weak, as if that soft voice could somehow soften the blow. “I—I didn’t mean for it to happen,” she continues, “It just… it just happened. We didn’t mean it.”

You know what hurts more than being cheated on? It’s the sickening realization that the person they chose is better than you in every way. Prettier. Maybe even smarter. More… everything.

Your throat tightens, but you force yourself to speak, “Stop, Ji-won.” You glance at her through the mirror, your chest tightening painfully. “I get it. I can see why.”

She looks startled, her brows drawing together. “Y/N, I’m really sorry. I know you know we had… unfinished business—”

“Unfinished business?” You spin around to face her, and the words tumble out before you can stop them, “With someone else’s husband?”

“That’s why I came to apologize,”

You laugh bitterly, shaking your head as your chest burns with a mixture of anger and pain. “Well, I don’t need it. Did you expect me to hug you?” You let out another laugh, this one harsher.

“Congratulations, I guess.” You step closer, each word laced with venom. “But don’t you ever come near me again. If you do, I’ll press charges. It will be really ugly. Do you understand?”

Ji-won nods stiffly, her expression crumbling under the weight of your stare. Without another glance, you turn on your heel and walk out of the bathroom, your steps hurried, the adrenaline rushing through your veins.

By the time you’re in the hallway, your breath is coming in short gasps. Your chest feels tight, constricted, like you’re drowning in your own emotions. You press a hand to your chest, forcing yourself to keep walking, but your vision blurs with unshed tears.

You can’t breathe.

The alcohol should’ve been enough. You thought it would drown everything out—the ache, the gnawing in your gut, the weight pressing down on your shoulders. But the pain is relentless, carving its way through you, burning and cold.

It starts in your chest, spreading like wildfire, suffocating your lungs, and crawling up your spine until it feels like you’re being pulled apart from the inside. It’s sharp, chaotic, like a bullet ricocheting through your body, tearing apart every fragile piece it touches.

You hear Ryu-jin’s voice calling your name, faint and distant, but you don’t turn around. You can’t. No. The crowd around you feels stifling, every laugh and every cheer scraping against your raw nerves. You’re barely holding it together, and you know that if you stay even a second longer, you’ll shatter in front of everyone.

You just need to go. To get away. Anywhere but here. Because right now, in the middle of this party, you feel like an open wound, with no place to hide.

“Where the hell did she go?” Ryu-jin muttered under her breath, panic creeping into her voice as she scanned the hallway outside the bathroom. She had only stepped away for a minute, grabbed what she needed, and when she came back—you were gone.

She storms back to the table, her heart racing. “Soobin, did you see Y/N?”

Soobin looked up immediately, concern flashing across his face. “She was with you, wasn’t she?”

“I lost her,” Ryu-jin admits, held up her phone, frustrated. “I’ve been trying to call, but her phone’s not connecting.” The worry on Soobin’s face mirrors her own, and for a moment, neither of them speaks.

“I’ll check outside,” Soobin says, already rising to his feet, his determination written all over his face. Yeonjun appears at the table just as Soobin leaves. “I’ll go with him.”

“Ryu-jin? Hey, long time no see.”

She turned to see Jay standing there, his familiar easygoing smile not quite registering in the chaos of her mind. “Jay,” she said, forcing a tight smile. “Hey. Yeah. Long time.”

Jay tilted his head. “Surprising. Where’s Choi’s golden girl? Isn’t she usually glued to your side?”

Ryu-jin hesitated, her smile faltering. “They… stepped out for a bit,” she lied, tone distracted.

Her gaze drifted across the room, and that’s when she saw her. Ji-won. Sitting with her group of friends, laughing, carefree, as if she hadn’t done enough damage already. The sight of her felt like a slap to the face. “The audacity…” Ryu-jin muttered under her breath.

Jay follows her line of sight, his eyebrows raising when he spots her. “That’s Ji-won, right?” he asks, his tone laced with something between curiosity and disdain. “The one who’s always been weirdly obsessed with Y/N?”

Ryu-jin’s head snapped toward him. “What are you talking about?”

“I mean,” Jay continues, shrugging, “back in college, she had this… thing. Like, she couldn’t stand it whenever someone said Y/N was pretty, which was often. It was kind of insane, honestly. Everyone knew Y/N was the prettiest girl back then, and Ji-won hated it. Like, visibly hated it.”

Ryu-jin chokes on her drink, coughing as she shakes her head in disbelief. Her fingers twitch with the urge to march over to Ji-won and give her a piece of her mind, but before she can act on the intrusive thought, Soobin reappears. His face is pale.

“She’s been in an accident,”

You got into an accident.

Beomgyu was sitting in his office when the call came. Everything around him blurred, the world spinning out of focus. It felt as if time had stopped for him, while the Earth kept spinning mercilessly. His body froze, but his mind was spiralling.

Y/N. Accident. The words replayed on a loop in his head, loud and cruel. He couldn't process them, couldn't let them sink in, because doing so would mean accepting that something terrible had happened to you.

You got into a car accident. Something terrible happened.

His throat tightened as he gripped the phone with trembling hands. "Wh-where… which hospital?" he stammered, his voice cracking under the weight of his fear. His heart pounded so hard it felt like it might shatter.

The answer came, muffled like it was coming from underwater. The call ended before he could fully react. The phone slipped from his hand onto the desk as he staggered to his feet, his legs shaky beneath him.

Somehow, he made it to his car, though he couldn’t remember how. His chest heaved. With shaking fingers, he dialled another number, desperate for more answers.

“Don’t bother coming here, Choi Beomgyu.” Soobin’s voice was sharp and breathless when he answered. It sounded strained, furious even, and it only made Beomgyu’s heart sink further.

“Is she okay?” Beomgyu whispered, his voice barely audible. The question felt like it would break him. His chest felt like it was caving in, the pain clawing at him as he braced himself for the answer. He bit down on his lip, hard enough to draw blood, his free hand digging into his hair as he fought to stay grounded.

“She’s…” Soobin’s voice faltered, and that hesitation was enough to send Beomgyu spiraling further. “They’re trying. The doctors are doing everything they can.”

It wasn’t enough. Those words, those pitiful attempts at reassurance, did nothing to quiet the storm raging inside him. His hands tightened around the steering wheel as panic surged through him. If Soobin couldn’t say you were okay, it meant you weren’t.

Beomgyu floored the gas pedal.

His mind raced as fast as the car, every thought more horrifying than the last. What if he was too late? What if he never got to see you again? His breath hitched at the thought. His hands gripped the wheel tighter, knuckles pale.

He had to see you. Alive. Breathing.

Anything less would destroy him.

Beomgyu bursts into the hospital, his heart pounding so loudly it drowns out the sterile beeping and muffled voices around him. He barely registers the nurse’s directions to your room. All he knows is that he has to see you. His feet carry him faster than his thoughts, and when he spots the door, he doesn’t expect the two familiar figures standing outside.

Ryu-jin sits on a chair, her face buried in her hands as her shoulders shake with sobs. Yeonjun is pacing, his expression tight with worry, his hands clenched into fists.

The moment Yeonjun sees Beomgyu, he stops dead in his tracks. His gaze hardens, sharp and unyielding, as he steps forward and blocks the door with his arm.

“She wouldn’t want to see you,” Yeonjun snaps, his voice low and venomous. “Get the fuck out of here, you piece of shit.”

Beomgyu freezes for half a second before anger flares in his chest, red-hot and uncontrollable. “What the fuck are you talking about?” he shouts, shoving Yeonjun hard enough to make him stumble back a step. “I’m going to see my wife!”

Yeonjun doesn’t back down. If anything, he looks even angrier.

“Stop it! Both of you!” Ryu-jin’s voice cracks as she looks up, mascara streaked down her tear-stained cheeks. She doesn’t bother wiping it away. Her hands tremble as she points at the door. “Visitors aren’t allowed until tomorrow. She’s in surgery, Beomgyu. And it’s not… it’s not a minor one.”

Those words hit him like a freight train. The fight drains out of him, leaving only fear in its place. He stumbles back a step, his hands running through his hair as he struggles to breathe. “Surgery?” he whispers, his voice breaking. “What kind of surgery?”

Yeonjun glares at him, unmoving. “And now you come running,” he spits, his tone bitter. “After all this time? Now you care?”

Beomgyu clenches his jaw, meeting Yeonjun’s fiery gaze but saying nothing. Because he knows Yeonjun’s right.

Yeonjun’s shoulders sag, and his voice softens, “You don’t even know,” he says, eyes on the floor. “You don’t know what a fucking queen your wife is.”

The unexpected shift in tone stops Beomgyu in his tracks. He stares at Yeonjun. His words—they're spoken with such devastation that it leaves him frozen. He sees the sullen look on Yeonjun's face. After all, Yeonjun has always been soft when it comes to you.

So soft that it terrifies Beomgyu.

"Beomgyu." Soobin's voice cuts through the heavy silence, pulling Beomgyu out of his spiralling thoughts. He turns toward him, barely able to focus. "Let's talk here."

Beomgyu nods silently and walks over, his legs feeling heavier with every step. He follows without a word, leaving Yeonjun and Ryu-jin standing alone near the door.

Ryu-jin watches Yeonjun out of the corner of her eye. He hasn’t moved, hasn’t said a single word since his last bitter remark to Beomgyu. He stands there, staring at the floor. His hands clasped together.

The silence stretches uncomfortably, and she can’t help herself. “Yeonjun…” she starts hesitantly. “You’re not… in love with her or something, are you?”

Her words made Yeonjun’s head snap up. His eyes meet hers, and for the first time, Ryu-jin sees it—really sees it. The glassy sheen in his eyes, the way his lips part but no words come out. The heartbreak painted so clearly on his face that it makes her chest ache. “You idiot,” she whispers, her voice soft with pity.

Yeonjun lets out a shaky breath, his gaze dropping again as if he can’t bear the weight of her sympathy. “She’s… my best friend’s little sister,” he murmurs, his voice raw and quiet. “I didn’t think it was possible. Not for me. Not for her.” He doesn’t answer directly. He doesn’t need to. It’s all over his face.

Yeonjun was in love with you, ever since he first saw you.

Beomgyu sat across from Soobin, his hands clenched tightly in his lap as he listened. Soobin’s voice was calm but firm as he explained what the doctors had said—stress was the last thing you could handle right now. “I’ll let you know if it’s okay for you to see her."

The words didn’t settle easily. Beomgyu didn’t understand why no one would tell him anything about your condition, why every detail was kept from him. But knowing you were stable, even for the moment, was enough. He swallowed his frustration and nodded, agreeing to Soobin’s terms.

Still, he couldn’t help himself. As Soobin turned to leave, Beomgyu’s voice cracked, raw with desperation. “Please,” he begged, “Let me see her. Just once… before I go.”

Beomgyu felt like his heart was clawing its way out of his chest, beating so erratically it left him breathless. It begged to escape, just as he begged silently to be allowed into the ICU. His hands trembled, numb and unsteady. He flexed his fingers, forcing a crack to echo through his knuckles, before gripping the cold metal of the doorknob.

On the other side of this door was you—the woman he hurt.

The thought made him pause, the ache in his chest spreading to his throat, tightening it like a noose. He wasn’t sure he could face you—not like this. But he couldn’t stay away, not anymore.

The door creaked softly as it opened, and his heart stuttered at the sight of you. Your face was pale but peaceful, your eyes closed, your breaths slow and steady. The sound of the machines around you was the only thing keeping him grounded.

He stepped closer, each movement hesitant, his guilt weighing heavier with every inch he bridged between you. When he finally reached your bedside, he froze, staring down at your hand—fragile and adorned with IV needles. Slowly, he reached out, his fingers brushing against yours. They were soft. Warm. And just that small, simple touch made him breathe again—really breathe—for the first time in days.

“Baby,” he whispered, the word breaking in his throat.

He sank to his knees beside you, clutching your hand to his face. Tears welled in his eyes, spilling over before he could stop them. They fell onto your skin, warm and unrelenting, a silent apology for every mistake he had made. He pressed his lips to your hand, shoulders shook as he cried.

The past few days without you had been unbearable. If he ever had doubts, or worries, if he ever hesitated—those thoughts were gone now. It's you. He’d thought about every little thing you did that he had taken for granted. All of it. And he realized, how much it all mattered.

How much you mattered to him.

“I’m sorry,” he choked out, whispers to your skin as he continue to kiss your palm. “I’m so sorry. For everything.”

The tears wouldn’t stop, and neither would the words pouring out of him. “You mean everything to me. I didn’t see it before, but I see it now. I love you. God, I love you so much.”

He squeezed your hand, hoping—praying—that somehow you could feel him. That even in this fragile, unconscious state, you could hear the desperate beating of his heart, could feel the truth in his touch. “I’ll do better,” he whispered, “I’ll be better. If you’ll just… if you’ll just give me another chance. Please.”

He didn’t know if you could hear him. He didn’t know if you’d ever forgive him. And he hates himself how it took him this long to figure it out.

Beomgyu’s heart was in his hands now, fully exposed and vulnerable, waiting—you could somehow feel it. He rested his forehead against your hand, tears pooling on the stark white sheets. If you gave him the chance, he’d spend the rest of his life proving that his love is real. He was finally here, standing in the world where you had once stood so heartbreakingly alone. And that his heart was yours, completely yours.

He would spend forever making up for what he had done. Even if it kills him.

“Where were you?” you asked, reaching over to grab the strawberry from the basket on the kitchen table. Beomgyu’s chuckle filled the room. “I went drinking with Taehyun. Just a light drink,” he said casually, his hand brushing your shoulder as he passed behind you to grab a plate.

“Why? Did you miss your husband?” he teased, carefully plating the food before setting it down in front of you. You scoffed, rolling your eyes. “You wish.”

He chuckled, handing you a spoon and fork before moving around the kitchen. A tall glass appeared on the table next to your plate and he poured you water.

“Did he miss me too?” Beomgyu’s voice was soft, almost tentative, drawing your gaze upward. His eyes met yours, and for a moment, you were caught in the tenderness there. It made your heart ache in that way only he could.

“He?” You raised an eyebrow, a small smirk tugging at your lips as you swallowed. “What makes you so sure it's a boy?” Your hand instinctively brushed over your stomach as a quiet smile softened your face. The thought of your little one—boy or girl—filled you with a warmth you couldn’t quite put into words.

“I just feel it,” A small smile flickered across his lips, “What if we get twins?”

You looked down, your thoughts wandering to tiny clothes, little shoes scattered across the floor, and pastel-painted walls filled with light and laughter. “That would be… amazing,” you murmured.

Out of the corner of your eye, you noticed Beomgyu pulling out the chair beside you. He sat down at first, but then, almost as if drawn closer by some unseen force, he shifted. You felt his gaze before you saw him—soft, unwavering, and filled with a kind of awe that made your chest tighten.

“That sounds nice, two little you running around.” he breathed, his voice almost a whisper. His hand reached out slowly, brushing against your stomach. You set down your utensils, giving him a soft nod as you shifted slightly, allowing him more access.

Beomgyu lowered himself onto his knees in front of you, his large hands resting gently on either side of your growing belly. He glanced up at you, his eyes searching yours for a brief moment before he let out a long, steady breath. Then, with a tenderness that made your throat tighten, he leaned closer, pressing his forehead gently against your stomach.

“Mommy and Daddy love you,” he whispered, his voice so quiet you almost didn’t hear it. He sounded so vulnerable, so small—like all the pain he had been carrying had finally spilled over. His lips pressed softly against your stomach. And then, without a word, he wrapped his arms around your waist and buried his face against you.

Your hand moved instinctively, threading through his soft hair with slow, soothing strokes. He pulled you closer, as though being near you could quiet the storm in his heart. Your fingers trailed down the back of his neck, over his shoulders, and down his back.

And then—it shifted.

In your dream, you were cradling a baby to your chest, its tiny body safe in your arms. Beomgyu leaned down, smiling widely as you do.

You woke up, panting.

You were dreaming. It shattered as reality came rushing back. Pain coursed through you, sharp and unrelenting, pulling a small, involuntary sound from your lips.

The memory hit next, as vivid as the moment it happened. Driving through the night with tears blurring your vision, your hands trembling on the wheel. The sound of your ragged breathing, the pounding of your heart. You were speeding, desperate to outrun the ache inside. Then the impact—another car colliding into yours, the violent spin before your vision went black.

“Hnn,” you whimpered, barely able to get the sound out. Your throat was dry, parched, and every part of you ached. You needed water.

"Y/N," a voice broke through the haze of your awakening. You turned your head to see your brother, Soobin. His face paled as he dropped whatever he was holding and rushed to your side. “I—I—”

“Water. Please,” you rasped, your throat dry and raw.

Soobin nodded quickly, his hands trembling as he reached for the water bottle on the nearby table. He uncapped it, holding it to your lips as you drank. Relief was fleeting; the ache in your chest outweighed the dryness in your throat.

“What happened?” you asked, your voice a little stronger now, though your hands still shook.

“You got into an accident,” he said, settling into the chair beside you. His voice was low, almost fragile. “A surgery was performed. You’ve been unconscious for three days.”

You nodded, trying to process his words, but his silence that followed unsettled you. ou looked at him, noticing the way his eyes darted away from yours, how his lips pressed together like he was holding back something he didn’t know how to say.

“What is it?” you pressed, your chest tightening with dread.

Soobin hesitated, his hands fidgeting in his lap before he reached out to take yours. “Let me call the nurse first, okay?” You nodded, though the fear in his voice made it hard to breathe.

You nodded, your anxiety growing as he stepped out. Moments later, the nurse arrived, and then the doctor, their voices calm and professional as they began explaining the details of your condition. But their words blurred together—a haze of medical jargon that barely registered—until one sentence shattered everything.

“You were in your first trimester when the accident occurred. The baby didn’t survive. I’m so sorry for your loss.” Your world tilted. Your breath caught in your throat, and for a moment, it felt like your heart had stopped.

“A baby?” you whispered, the word foreign and fragile on your lips.

The nurse and doctor offered their condolences before quietly excusing themselves, leaving you alone with Soobin. Your hands trembled as they instinctively moved to your stomach. “I was pregnant?” Your voice cracked, disbelief and anguish bleeding into every word. "Soobin?"

“Y/N…” Soobin’s voice was choked with emotion.

“I mean… they’re saying I was…” You stopped, the reality sinking in with a force so cruel. “Oh.”

“I didn’t even know,” Tears blurred your vision as the enormity of it all crashed down on you. You lost a baby. A life you didn’t even know you were carrying. A piece of you that was gone before you ever had the chance to feel it, to know it, to love it.

Did you have to lose your child too?

The sobs came hard and fast, wracking your body until you could barely breathe. Your hands covered your mouth, trying to hold in the grief that spilled over anyway. “I didn’t even know I was pregnant.” you choked out, your voice breaking. “And now… they’re gone.” Your hands clutched at your stomach as if trying to hold on to something that was no longer there. "It's all my fault."

Soobin wrapped his arms around you, pulling you into his chest as your cries tore the room. “I’m so sorry, Y/N,” he whispered, his voice shaking. He held you tightly. The only thing that kept you from falling out.

Your cries grew louder, as the loss consumed you. The one you saw in your dream, so warm in your arms. You had held them, hadn’t you? You could still feel the weight of their tiny body in your arms.

Your baby.

All you could do was mourn for the life that had slipped away before you even knew it existed.

It’s been a week since Soobin made his last call to Beomgyu. A week since you opened your eyes in the hospital. And yet, Beomgyu has heard nothing.

Every day, he drags himself to the hospital. But every time, the answer is the same: no. On the fourth day, he arrived—you’d been discharged. You were gone.

Still, every morning, Beomgyu wakes up with that same aching hope that refuses to let go no matter how much it hurts. He gets through the day somehow, clutching at the thought of seeing your face again. But by night, when the world quiets, he’s left with nothing but his tears, falling asleep with the weight of your absence pressing down on his heart.

He’s distracted, eyes fixed on the same line of text glowing on his computer screen. It’s been minutes, maybe longer, and he still hasn’t moved past the first sentence. His mind is elsewhere—adrift—when a knock on the office door pulls him back.

His secretary peeks in, face filled with cautious expression. “Sir, I’ve been calling your phone. Someone’s here to see you—Park Sunghoon.”

Beomgyu blinked, confused. Sunghoon? His old batchmate, someone he’d shared classes with years ago. They hadn’t talked in forever. He nodded slowly, signalling her to let him in.

The door opens fully, and Sunghoon strides in. His pale complexion contrasts starkly with the black polo shirt he’s wearing, and Beomgyu notices the glasses perched on his nose—something he didn't have before. Sunghoon doesn’t look quite the same as Beomgyu remembers.

“Beomgyu,” Sunghoon said with a small smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. “How’ve you been, man?”

“Sunghoon,” Beomgyu responds, sitting up straighter in his chair. “What brings you here?” He gestures toward the seat across the desk, and Sunghoon takes it. The frown etched into his brow didn’t escape Beomgyu’s notice. “Is everything okay?”

Sunghoon exhales, leaning forward and clasping his hands together on his knees. “You know I’m close with Jay, right?”

Beomgyu narrows his eyes, unsure where this is heading, but he nods. “Yeah. And?”

“Well…” Sunghoon hesitates, the words seemingly heavy in his throat before he finally speaks. “I heard about Y/N. That she got into an accident recently.” The sound of your name halts Beomgyu.

“I couldn’t ignore it anymore,” Sunghoon continues, voice quieter. “I made promises to her, you know? But lately… I don’t know. It’s been eating me alive.”

Beomgyu runs his hand to his hair, "Sunghoon…”

"I didn’t think it was my place to say this," Sunghoon begins, "When I heard you two got married, I thought maybe she’d tell you. Maybe you already know. But I came here personally, just in case. Because you deserve to know. And if I don’t tell you now, I’ll regret it for the rest of my life."

He exhales deeply before continuing. “Do you remember how you used to talk about Ji-won? How you’d brag about her cooking for you, leaving little things for you—sweets, medicine, hot packs. Or the cold water she’d always leave at your bench during those grueling practices under the sun? Do you remember how she saved your ass that time you forgot your assignment, staying up late just to finish it for you? You told us all those things, over and over, like she a gem.” Beomgyu feels his chest tighten as Sunghoon meets his nervous gaze.

“All of that, Beomgyu… it wasn’t Ji-won,” Sunghoon says carefully, “It was Y/N. Every single one of those things. I know because… she asked me to help her sometimes. She didn’t want you to know. She didn’t do it for recognition or because she wanted anything back. She just cared about you. I even told her once—maybe she should tell you how she felt, and even if you didn’t feel the same, at least it’d help her move on. But she wouldn’t. She told me… her love for you wasn’t about getting something back. It wasn’t about her. It wasn’t selfish.”

Beomgyu’s hand trembles under the table, his knuckles white as he clenches his fists. His throat feels tight, each word hitting his ears.

“At first, I couldn’t understand her decision—I even judged her for it, thinking she was only making... things harder on herself,” Sunghoon admits, voice softening. “But over time, I realized—none of us have the right to judge someone else’s pain. You can’t measure someone else’s actions by your own standards. What might seem small or insignificant to one person could be earth-shattering to someone else.”

Beomgyu had been in love with the idea of Ji-won all along.

Those moments—the little gestures, the care, the comfort—they had become the foundation of his attachment to her. How he remembered her. They were the memories he clung to, the ones burned so deeply into his mind that letting her go had felt impossible. She was, in his mind, someone who cared for him. Someone who truly knew him.

But it wasn’t her. It was you. It had been you all along.

He thinks about Ji-won, the girl he once believed was willing to stand by him no matter what. She made him think about defying his parents, about running away from everything—his responsibilities, his future, his entire life. Ji-won was the one who fueled his anger, who stood beside him as he cursed the world and everyone in it.

And then there was you.

You, who never let him go too far. You didn’t encourage his anger—you challenged it. Even when it meant standing against him, because you wanted him to understand—not everything could be run from. It was you who reminded him that his obligations weren’t a prison but a part of him, something he couldn’t just abandon. It was you who helped him rebuild the bridge to his parents when he didn’t even realise it had been burned.

It’s suffocating now, the truth. To realise that the very actions that made him fall for Ji-won—the moments he thought defined her love for him—were never hers. They were yours.

Ji-won had been nothing but a mirror to his rebellion. This truth, made him want to see you more.

“Pour me another,” Beomgyu muttered to the bartender he leaned heavily on his forearm. The man hesitated, his concern written all over his face. Beomgyu noticed but didn’t care. “I said, pour me another one.”

With a reluctant nod, the bartender slid another drink in front of him. Beomgyu downed it in one go, the burn in his throat doing nothing to drown out the ache in his chest. He fumbled for his phone, the screen glaring back at him as he typed out messages he knew you’d never read.

I miss you, baby. Can I see you? Let’s talk, please. Are you not going to see me? Forever? Ok. I understand. I don’t deserve forgiveness. No. Please. Give me a chance. Just one chance to see you. To talk to you, please. I can’t go on another day without you. Please Y/N.

The messages sat there, unanswered.

Stumbling out of the bar, his legs unsteady and his vision blurred, he barely noticed the bartender calling his driver. He collapsed onto the pavement outside, his head in his hands, phone still clutched in his trembling fingers.

As he opened it again, ready to type another desperate plea, his screen lit up with an incoming call. His heart skipped, hope flickering briefly before seeing another unfamiliar number.

“When are you going to stop calling me, Ji-won?” he shouted into the phone, his voice hoarse with frustration and alcohol. “I’ve said it more than once—we don’t need to talk. Not ever again.”

“I just wanted to know how you’re—”

“Please!” he cut her off, his voice breaking as tears streamed freely down his face. He was shaking now, his words spilling out in a desperate sob. “Please, Ji-won… I know everything. I know what you did. You ruined the only good thing I ever had. You… you destroyed it.”

He pressed his palm against his mouth, trying to muffle the sound of his own cries. “Please,” he whispered, the word barely audible through his tears. “Just let me be.”

The line ends.

Ji-won freezes, her fingers trembling as the line goes dead. You ruined the only good thing I ever had. You… you destroyed it.

She exhales shakily, forcing air into her lungs that suddenly feel too tight. Her phone slips from her hand, landing softly on the bedspread. Hot tears well in her eyes, blurring the room around her. She had let herself believe—naively, foolishly—that Choi Beomgyu could still be hers.

Even after everything, she had convinced herself that there was still a piece of him that belonged to her. But now, hearing his words, she knew. She had already lost him.

The tears came harder as her mind betrayed her, pulling her back to the moment it all began. The moment her hatred for you took root.

“Beomgyu,” she had chirped, plopping down beside him on the couch. He had been immersed in a book, his brow furrowed in concentration, but she didn’t care. She wanted his attention, his reassurance. She always did. “There’s this talk going around about… Y/N,” she said, the name leaving a sour taste on her tongue. “People are saying she’s the prettiest girl on campus.” Her voice dropped, tinged with an edge of insecurity.

“But that’s not true, right? She’s not that… pretty.” She trailed off, squeezing his hand, her smile faltering as she waited for the words she longed to hear. She wanted him to say, there was no competition—that she was the most beautiful girl in his eyes.

Beomgyu was half hearing her words because he was engrossed in the book he was reading. So instead, he looked up, his eyes meeting hers with a hint of confusion. “What do you mean?” he asked simply, his tone matter-of-fact. “It's true. I think she’s beautiful.”

It was on that day Ji-won began to hate you with every fiber of her being.

The kind of hatred that wasn’t born overnight, but nurtured by her insecurities, fed by the way you walked through the world without a care—dragging every boy’s eyes in your wake as if it were effortless. And the worst part? You didn’t even seem to notice. You didn’t have to notice.

Jealousy festered in her chest, growing heavier each time she caught a glimpse of you. It didn’t help that you and Beomgyu—her Beomgyu—shared a world she could never truly enter. The Chois. The big families. A legacy. Something she wasn’t, something she could never be.

The announcement of your engagement felt like the final blow. She couldn’t understand how the universe could be so evil. You, the girl she couldn’t stand, were being handed the one thing she clung to the hardest. It wasn’t fair. And as jealousy morphed into bitterness, she let herself simmer in the injustice of it all, until it burned hot enough to ignite a plan.

Ji-won thought of everything. She knew Beomgyu would be there at the party, and she knew what she had to do. She chose the kind of dress he used to love. She styled her hair the way he used to run his fingers through, practised the words he used to adore hearing spill from her lips. She even reached for the used perfume he once said he liked.

It wasn’t an accident. None of it was. Ji-won walked into that room not as a guest, but as someone determined to remind him of what they once had. It didn’t matter that he was married.

You ruined the only good thing I ever had. You destroyed it. Please, just let me be.

She swallows hard, the lump in her throat refusing to go away. The realization settles over her like a heavy fog, a fog that turns clear—she is nothing more than a wall. A futile obstacle standing in the way of two souls who are meant to be together.

She opens her phone, booking a flight—any flight—to anywhere but here.

“It’s here,” Soobin says softly, his hand resting gently on your back as he guides you forward. His finger points to the glass grave in front of you.

Gone, but forever in our hearts. Moon.

Your Moon. The name you gave your baby—a name as delicate and luminous as the child who never got to see the world. You thought long and hard about it. It had to be beautiful, just like him. A name worthy of all the love you poured into his short, fleeting existence.

You pull out your handkerchief, wiping at the thin layer of dust that has settled on the outside of the glass. Your fingers tremble as you do, as though clearing the smudges could make it hurt less. But it doesn’t. It never does. Your brow furrows as you fight the ache swelling in your chest. He’s in there—inside that small, delicate bottle. And this is all you can do for him now.

“Hi, baby,” you whisper, your voice cracking as the words leave your lips. Soobin stands beside you, his smile soft but heavy with sadness. “Do you think I would’ve been a good uncle?” he asks, his voice barely louder than the wind.

You glance at him, your heart aching at the question. He kneels to place the small flowers you’d brought together, arranging them with the utmost care. There's an unfamiliar flower resting beside it. Someone must have wrongly placed it.

“Yes,” you manage to say, your throat tight with emotion. “I think the two of you would’ve been close.” You force a smile, though it wavers, your words choking you as they come out.

He reaches up and smooths your hair, a comforting gesture that almost makes you break. “He’s up there,” Soobin murmurs, his eyes lifting to the sky. “With no pain. Watching over you.”

You nod, swallowing hard, willing your tears to stay back. You can’t cry. Not here. Not now. If you cry, your baby might worry. You’ve convinced yourself of that, even if it doesn’t make sense.

The week after your discharge was unbearable.

You clung to Soobin like a lifeline, your hands gripping his. Your parents moved you back into their house without question, simply knowing you needed them.

Your mother—the strongest woman you’d ever known, the one who never faltered—cried with you when you broke the news. She held you in her arms like you were a child again, her tears falling silently against your hair as you sobbed into her chest. Your father walked with you every day, leading you to the garden where you could sit in the sunlight, as if the warmth could somehow seep into the cracks inside you. They cooked your meals, cleaned your space, and did everything you couldn’t bring yourself to do.

Tonight, you find yourself staring blankly at the walls of your old room.

The quiet feels suffocating, pressing against your chest. Sleep won’t come, and before you even realise it, tears are slipping down your cheeks. You didn’t even notice you were crying until the dampness touches your skin. You sit up abruptly, your chest heaving as if the air refuses to fill your lungs. The stillness of the bed feels unbearable, so you push yourself off it, your feet meeting the cool floor.

Pacing back and forth, you feel the tears come harder now, unchecked and unexplainable. You don’t even know why you’re crying. It’s just there—this ache, this heaviness. You were about to go out, to get Soobin or your parents.

But then your eyes caught the window.

It glows. The moon.

It’s full tonight, impossibly bright, casting a soft, silvery glow across the room. It feels like it’s staring back at you. You stand there, frozen, the phone slipping from your hand. The moon’s reflection shimmers faintly in your tear-filled eyes, and for a moment, you forget the heaviness pressing against your chest. It’s as if the moon is speaking to you, telling you to breathe, to let go, to just be.

Your breathing steadies. You stand there, bathed in its light, feeling the faintest glimmer of peace. And the storm inside you begins to calm.

It’s been six months since you woke up.

Six months since you returned to your parents’ house, where the familiar walls offered some sense of safety. Ryu-jin and Yeonjun visit almost every weekend, their presence a small comfort. Soobin stays, too, refusing to leave your side.

It’s been almost seven months since you last saw Choi Beomgyu.

Seven months since everything fell apart.

Choi Beomgyu, who, for six months now, has spent every single day driving two hours to your parents’ house. He shows up like clockwork, no matter the weather, no matter the time. After work, he makes the trip, arriving at the big gated doors with a bouquet of white roses in his hands. Every single day.

He doesn’t make a scene or beg to be let in. He just waits, bouquet in hand, a fragile hope flickering in his eyes. White roses. Always white roses. They used to be your favourite.

His parents send gifts, too. Packages and handwritten letters arrive, carefully chosen and delicately worded, but you can’t bring yourself to open them.

And every day, you hear the knock at the gate. Every day, you peek from the upstairs window, watching him wait, white roses clutched in his hands like a lifeline. And every day, you stay hidden behind the curtains, your feet stay rooted to the floor, your heart too bruised to carry you to him.

But today is different. Today, it has to be.

The papers are in your hands. Unsigned divorce papers. You tell yourself it’s just paper, just ink, but the trembling in your hands betrays the truth.

You walk to the building you once called home, each step echoing in your chest. The elevator hums softly as you press the button, your reflection in the mirrored doors a stranger to you. When it finally dings open, you step out into the hallway that once smelled of comfort and familiarity. Now it feels like a mausoleum.

Your hand hovers over the doorbell of your home—no, his home. The space you used to share feels distant. The ring in your other hand feels impossibly heavy, its cool metal biting into your palm.

You’ve tried to get rid of it before. Once, you even threw it in the trash, convincing yourself it was the right thing to do. But then came the panic. You tore through the garbage, hands shaking, the stench clinging to you as you clawed through. It didn’t matter that you ruined your clothes or that your mom’s voice cracked as she begged you to stop.

You just couldn’t let it go. Maybe, you should return it properly.

You take a breath and press the button. And then you wait.

When the door swung open, Beomgyu’s eyes met yours, and for a moment, everything froze. His eyes widened in shock, his lips parting as if to speak, but no sound came out. You felt your chest tighten painfully, the sight of him unravelling something inside you. He looked… so different. His hair, longer now, fell to his shoulders in messy waves, unkempt like he hadn’t bothered to comb it. His skin was pale, almost sickly, and his eyes were rimmed with red, like he’d been crying—or hadn’t slept in days.

“Y/N,” he breathed, his voice barely above a whisper. His hand gripped the edge of the door like he needed something to steady him, his heart hammering so loudly he swore you could hear it. Was this real? Were you really standing there? He let his gaze trail over you, taking in your thinner frame, the hollow tiredness etched into your face. He wanted to say something, to invite you in, but the words caught in his throat.

You didn’t say a word. Instead, you stepped past him, the sharp click of your heels against the floor filling the suffocating silence. Each step echoed like a countdown, louder in his ears than it should have been. Beomgyu turned to watch you, his hand hovering uselessly at his side, aching to reach out but too afraid to try.

He closed the door softly behind you.

Your eyes scan the room, and it hits you all at once—everything’s a mess. Clothes are strewn carelessly over the couch, an empty chip bag crumpled on the kitchen counter, dishes piling up in the sink. The air feels heavy, stagnant, like the windows haven’t been opened in weeks.

And then your gaze shifts—to the open door on the right. Your room.

Your breath catches as you take it in. The bed is unmade, the sheets tangled in a way that’s unmistakable.

He’s been sleeping there. Beomgyu. In your room. In your bed.

"Uh," Beomgyu starts awkwardly, rubbing the back of his neck. "Sorry, it's… kind of a mess."

You nod stiffly, not meeting his eyes. "It's okay."

The sound of your voice makes him freeze. It’s been so long since he’s heard it—too long. His chest tightens, but before he can savor it, your next words come like a knife to his heart. "I'm not going to be here for long anyway."

His brows furrow, panic flashing across his face. "Wh-why?" he stammers, his voice breaking. "I mean—"

You cut him off, extending the envelope toward him with trembling hands. "Let’s…" You swallow hard, forcing the words out despite the lump in your throat. "Let’s get a divorce."

Beomgyu stares at you, his mind reeling. The hope that had bloomed in his chest when he saw you standing at his door clashes violently with the reality of your words. His lips part, but no sound comes at first. Finally, he whispers, "Why?"

He can’t stop himself. The panic is overwhelming. "I went to your house every day," he says, his voice breaking. "Every single day, Y/N. I wanted to make this work. I—I sent you messages, I tried everything. Do you…" He swallows hard, his throat tight. "Do you not love me anymore?" He knows he sounds pathetic, but he doesn’t care. The speeches he’d rehearsed in his head dissolve into nothing, overtaken by the fright clawing at him.

Your breath hitches, and when you speak, your voice is cold, trembling with barely contained emotion. "I don’t care if I love you, Beomgyu. I don’t care if it feels like my heart is being ripped out of my chest, or if it feels like I’m dying inside." You take a shaky breath, your grip tightening on the envelope. "I want a divorce. And when it’s done, you’ll never see me again."

Beomgyu flinches like you’ve struck him, his knees nearly buckling. He shifts uncomfortably, his hands shaking at his sides. "Is this still about Ji-won?" he asks hesitantly, and the way you flinch answers him before your words can.

He swallows hard, his voice growing more frantic. "It’s true, Y/N. It’s true, that I cheated. I kissed her, but as soon as it happened, I pushed her away." He presses a trembling hand to his chest. "It didn’t mean anything—it was a mistake, a horrible mistake, and I hate myself for it every single day. But please…" His voice cracks, tears spilling down his cheeks. "Please, give me a chance."

You shake your head, a sob breaking free despite how hard you’re trying to hold it together. "It’s too late, Beomgyu," you whisper, your voice trembling as your hands shake. You open your hands, and try to give the ring back. "Too much has happened. We can’t go back."

Beomgyu doesn’t take it. He just stands there, staring at the ring in your palm, tears streaming down his face. He knows. If he takes it, it’s over. If he takes it, you’ll be gone for good, out of his life forever.

"I can’t," he whispers, his voice broken. "I can’t take it."

He won’t take the ring, so he takes your hand and pulled you to him, kissing your lips fervently and enduring the slam of your fists against his body and chest. It was all him; it was all his fault. He is an emotional wreck who doesn’t know what to do and how to contain his feelings.

“Beomgyu—” you gasped, your voice breaking as you pushed at his chest. He didn’t let go, his hands cupping your face, fingers brushing against your jaw like you were something fragile and sacred. His touch was shaky, his breathing uneven as his hands slid to the back of your neck, pulling you impossibly closer.

His movements were hurried, frantic, as if he were afraid you’d disappear if he let go. In one swift motion, he lifted you, his steps unsteady as he carried you to the bedroom. Your bedroom. The air felt heavy as he laid you down on the mattress—his mattress now, the one that carried his scent.

“Wait—,” you said weakly, your hands clutching at his shirt, your voice trembling as much as your resolve. But even as you pushed against him, your lips didn’t stop moving from kissing him back. His hands moved to your shoulders, then slid down to your waist, pulling you to him. You never knew that lips could talk without uttering a word until he declared his love for you through kisses. You let yourself melt under his touch.

Your hands, which had been pushing him away moments before, now found his shoulders for balance as he pressed you back into the bed. The mattress creaked beneath you, and you hated how your body still remembered him—how it responded to him like no time had passed at all.

His breaths were ragged, syncing with your every moan as his tongue tangled with yours, hungry and desperate. You had missed him—every part of him. That truth burned inside you as your fingers tugged at the hem of his shirt, pulling him closer, urging him on. His body pressed against yours, grinding to yours, while his hands roamed over your skin, igniting every nerve he touched. His lips trailed downward, leaving soft kisses that melted into your flesh, a path leading straight to your core.

He stripped you of every barrier, leaving you bare under his gaze. His eyes shimmered with something between adoration and hunger as they traced your body. You hadn’t realized how powerless you were against him until your legs parted, welcoming him. He looked at you like you were sacred, like you were his entire world.

“Don’t leave me…” he whispered between kisses, his voice breaking in a way that made your heart ache. Tears pricked your eyes because you wanted to believe him. You needed to believe him. His hands explored further, his fingers reaching for your clit, pinching softly then roughly, coaxing sounds from your lips that you didn’t know you were capable of. You trembled beneath him, gasping and crying out as he whispered confessions into your skin.

His mouth was poetry, speaking without syllables. His kisses, his touch—every movement of his lips and tongue—proclaimed what he hadn’t said out loud. Your body gave in, melting under the weight of his devotion, your mind consumed by him.

“Don’t leave me again, please,” he murmured as he positioned himself, slowly sliding into you. A low, guttural sound escaped him as he felt you, tight and warm, pulling him deeper. He missed you so much that he's sure he'll come right there and then. His face buried itself in the curve of your neck, and his words spilled out—apologies, regrets.

"Please," His touch was gentle, even as his thrusts inside you grew more desperate. He cradled your head, kissed away your tears, and pressed his lips to your cheek. “I’m in love with you, Y/N,” he whispered, his voice trembling. “It’s always been you.”

“I love you…” he murmured, capturing your lips in a desperate kiss as you both unravelled together, bodies trembling in unison. Your thighs clenched tightly around his waist, and he repeated the words softly into your ear, like a prayer he needed you to hear.

"Beomgyu," You whispered his name and it made tears well up in his eyes. His hand gently pushed the damp strands of hair from your face, and he pressed tender kisses along your cheeks, your temple, and your jaw. When he noticed your tears, he wiped them away without hesitation, his touch careful and soothing.

“Shh, angel,” he whispered, pulling you against his chest, holding you like he was afraid you’d slip away. His lips brushed the crown of your head, and his hand moved in calming strokes up and down your back. “I’m sorry… for everything.”

You had come here to end it. To finally say the words that would close this chapter for good. You’d rehearsed it in your mind, telling yourself you’d leave with your head held high.

But all of that clarity blurred with every kiss he gave you, every whisper of your name that fell from his lips. Every I love you, over and over again, spoken like a spell meant to undo you. And it did. The walls you had worked so hard to build these past seven months—brick by painstaking brick—began to crack and crumble.

And when he pulled you closer, his arms tightening around you like he couldn’t bear to let go, you felt yourself falter completely. Because no matter how much resolve you thought you had, it was never enough when it came to him.

Two fractured bodies came together, love-making to each other to chase away all the scars and time passed.

The papers meant to sever—to declare the ending—lay discarded on the floor, forgotten.

The brightness of the room stings your eyes as they flutter open. You blink, disoriented, your chest tightening with a familiar weight. Panic creeps up, sharp and unforgiving. He must have left. He must have slipped out of bed again, leaving you to wake up alone.

“Baby, what’s wrong?” Beomgyu’s voice is soft, tinged with concern as he gently cradles your face in his hands. He had woken up before you, the morning light spilling across the room, but leaving the bed felt impossible. Not when you were curled so closely against him, your bodies still tangled under the warmth of the sheets.

He stayed, wrapping himself around you, his chest pressed to your back, his arms holding you. He buried his face in your hair, inhaling the faint scent that now feels like home. It was quiet—so quiet—until he felt the faint tremble on your body. His grip tightened instinctively, his voice barely above a whisper as he called out to you again. “Y/N,"

You blinked, his voice pulling you from your thoughts. Turning your head, your eyes met his—heavy-lidded and soft with sleep. His arms tightened around your waist. A shaky breath escaped your lips, your chest tight as tears welled in your eyes. You tried to hold them back, but they came anyway.

Beomgyu’s thumb brushed against your cheek, catching the first tear as it slipped down. He didn’t miss a thing. His gaze traced every flicker of emotion on your face. He opened his mouth, ready to ask what was wrong again, but you spoke first,

“You finally stayed.”

Your words made him froze. Guilt settled heavy in his chest, as he pulled you impossibly closer. His forehead pressed against yours, lips hovered so close to yours.

“I won’t ever leave. Every day, you’ll wake up, and I’ll be here. Right by your side.”

Beomgyu was different—so different it made your heart ache in the best way.

He was there, every single step, helping you out of bed like it was second nature. You had to practically fight for the simple dignity of showering alone, and even then, he lingered just outside the door, making sure you were okay.

And when it was his turn to ask for something, “Please cook for me again,” he’d said, his voice begging.

So you did. You made the soup—the very first one you’d ever cooked for him back in college. As the soup simmered, Beomgyu started to talk. He told you about Ji-won, about his unexpected interaction with Sunghoon, and how he’d rejected Ji-won long before he even knew the full truth. He spoke with an honesty that left no room for doubt, his words meant only for you.

When your mind wandered, when your eyes drifted away, Beomgyu noticed. He always noticed. His fingers would gently close around yours, pulling you back to him. He’d press soft kisses to your palms, his touch saying more than words ever could: Stay with me. I’m here.

“This is too good,” Beomgyu groaned after his first sip of the soup, you know see his face lighting up like what Sunghoon told you about. His hands cradled the bowl, and you couldn’t help but notice the glint of his ring—the one he refused to take off. It made you looked down at your own hand, there it was—your ring, the one Beomgyu fought for last night.

You took a small sip, letting the warmth spread through you. But it did little to settle the weight in your stomach. There was still something left unsaid, something you hadn’t found the courage to tell him yet. “Beomgyu,”

He squeezes your hand—the one he hasn’t let go of, even while eating. His arm stretches across the table to hold yours, his thumb brushing against your skin. “Hmm?” he hums.

“Back in the hospital…” you begin, your voice trembling with of what you’re about to say. You feel his gaze shift to you, “I had a… I had a miscarriage.” You swallow hard, forcing yourself to continue. “I lost our child.”

The silence that follows is unbearable. You can’t bring yourself to look at him, your eyes fixed on the half-eaten soup in front of you. The warmth in his hand disappears, and your heart sinks. When you hear the sound of his chair scraping against the floor, dread floods your chest. He’s walking away.

But then he’s there—beside you. He pulls out the chair next to yours and sits down. When he leans forward to pull you into his arms, it’s like the air returns to your lungs. He guides your face to rest against his shoulder. His arms come around you, holding you close.

“I know,” he whispers, “Soobin told me.”

Your breath catches, and your chest feels both heavy and light at the same time. “I went to him every day, you know,” he continues, his hand running soothing circles on your back. “It’s hard not to. I couldn’t stay away. He… he got me.”

You exhale shakily, your body relaxing into his. The faint memory of flowers on your baby's grave—ones you couldn’t remember bringing yourself—floats to the surface. It all makes sense now. Beomgyu had been there, mourning as you did.

Your hand never leaves Beomgyu’s as he drives.

The road feels both too short and too long, leading you to the place you’ve come to know too well. It’s green here—peaceful and impossibly beautiful in a way that feels both comforting and heartbreaking. He parks the car, steps out, and circles around to open your door. His hand finds yours again as you step out, and together, you walk the path you’ve walked before.

In your other hand, you hold the small bouquet—a gift for the little one who rests here now, your little angel. You kneel gently, placing the flowers at the grave. Beomgyu crouches beside you, his gaze fixed on the name etched into the stone.

Beomgyu’s voice breaks the silence, trembling as he whispers, “Daddy’s here with Mommy now, just like I promised you.” His words catch in his throat, and he pauses, his head bowing slightly as he tries to gather himself. “I told you I could do it,” he continues, his voice shaking, raw with emotion. “Daddy’s so sorry for everything. I promise I’ll take care of your Mommy. I’ll take care of her, I swear. You just play up there, okay? Don’t worry about us. Mommy and Daddy love you more than anything.”

Your heart aches at his words, and you press closer to his side. His arm finds its way around your shoulders, holding you tight. You cling to him just as fiercely, your bodies leaning into one another, trying not to fall apart in front of the greatest what-if of your lives.

I can’t wait to see you, wife. Almost there. I love you.

The corners of your lips tugged into a smile as you read your husband’s text. It had been a week since you decided to reconcile. And in those seven days, he had kept every promise, showing you with quiet consistency that he meant every word.

Reaching for your perfume, you lightly spritzed it onto your pulse points. You glanced at yourself in the mirror, smoothing the fabric of your dress, a small flutter of nerves in your chest.

The past still lingered—it wasn’t something that could just disappear. There were nights you woke up gasping, caught in the grip of nightmares. But the smoke always seemed to lift the moment you heard his voice, the way he whispered comfort like he could chase away the darkness with nothing but his presence. It was a start.

You spent the weekend at your parents’ house. When you told them you were giving your marriage another chance, their eyes had softened, and they gave you their support. And now, here you were, waiting for him—your husband—who was on his way to take you on your first date.

Married for almost three years, and are going out for your first date. The date he’d practically begged for, pouting for hours until you finally agreed, because he said he wanted it.

A beginning.

You make your way down the stairs. When you reach the bottom, your eyes land on Yeonjun, lounging on the couch, his fingers absentmindedly scrolling through his phone. He doesn’t notice you at first, but the moment he does, he sets it down without hesitation.

Walking over to him, you don’t give him a chance to say anything. Your hands gently cup his face, and before he can react, you press a quick kiss to his forehead. “Yeonjun,” you say softly, standing in front of him now, your gaze grateful. “Thank you. For everything.”

Your words seem to light him up. A smile spreads across his face, and he attempts one of his signature winks—a clumsy one at that. It’s so bad it makes you both break into laughter, the sound echoing warmly in the room. “Anything for you, Y/N,” he replies, he stands up and asks for another hug from you.

"Take care, always, okay?" You nod to his shoulders. Grateful to this man who did things for you, without asking anything back.

After saying your goodbyes to Yeonjun, you step outside, your eyes sweeping across the open space in front of the large doors.

Beomgyu leans casually against his sleek black velvet car, the deep color almost absorbing the light, while Soobin stands beside him, mid-conversation. There’s a quiet ease between them, the kind that makes you pause. When they notice you approaching, Soobin pats Beomgyu’s back, their exchange winding down as they mutter their farewells.

They look like... brothers.

The sight tugs at your heart. When you told Soobin about Beomgyu’s promises, you weren’t sure how he’d react, but it felt like he already knew. “He’s the only one who doesn’t realise how much he loves you,” Soobin had said, his voice certain. “I saw it—starting back at the hospital. It was all over his face.”

Now, as you reach him, you throw your arms around his neck, pulling him into a hug that speaks more than words ever could. “I love you, Soobin.” you say, the words soft but full of conviction.

Soobin holds you for a beat longer than usual, his hand resting lightly on your back. He feels nothing but peace in his chest.

Maybe now, he can start chasing his own happiness too.

Beomgyu watches silently as you pull away from Soobin, his gaze never leaving you. When your eyes meet his and a soft smile spreads across your lips, his chest tightens. You’re beautiful. So achingly beautiful that it feels like his heart might splinter under your stare.

When you reach him, he leans down without a word, brushing a quick kiss against your lips. He knows he needs this. He knows he needs you.

Because without you, there’s no him.

The day felt like stepping back in time, a snapshot of a younger, simpler you.

It started with the movies, where Beomgyu would lean in for quick, stolen kisses during the darker scenes, his grin impossible to resist. Then came the arcade—a chaotic mix of flashing lights and laughter. He was relentless in his mission to win you a comically oversized teddy bear, to the point of nearly bribing the poor guy running the booth. When he finally succeeded, he held it up like a trophy, his smile as wide as the bear itself. For a moment, it felt like you were back in college, like this could’ve been one of your carefree dates from those days.

Now, you’re crammed into a photo booth together, squishing shoulder to shoulder as the timer counts down. Two grown, married adults pulling silly faces at the camera like teenagers. The faint hum of the machine is drowned out by your shared giggles, and you can feel the curious stares of actual teenagers nearby. They’re probably imagining your life is perfect, the kind of love they dream about. If only they knew how far from perfect it’s been—how much work it’s taken to get here.

When the photo strip finally slides out, Beomgyu grabs it first, holding it up with a burst of laughter. “Look at you, sweetheart,” he says, pointing to one particularly goofy expression you made. His laughter is infectious, and soon you’re both doubled over, bumping to each other as you cackle uncontrollably.

Beomgyu—who always seems so composed, so maddeningly serious—looks nothing like that version of himself when he laughs. He’s wide-eyed and carefree, his joy as pure as a child’s, and it’s beautiful. It heals you. Every day with him feels like this—a discovery, a new layer to peel back, something new to fall in love with.

“God, I love you,” he says suddenly, making your heart flutter.

“I love you too,” you whisper, the smile on your face softening as he leans in to press a kiss to your cheek. The squeals from the teenagers outside are instant, and you roll your eyes, laughing as you glance at them—your accidental audience, swooning over the two of you like you’re straight out of a rom-com, like they’ve just witnessed something magical.

And maybe they have.

It doesn’t matter if it’s slow, or if it took longer than it should have. Life isn’t perfect, and neither are people. Everyone deserves a second chance—just like the one you gave your marriage. Just like the one it deserved. It may have started off messy in ways you couldn’t imagine fixing, but that didn’t mean it had to end the same way.

The road ahead still feels long, but you’re learning to let go. Of the doubt that whispered you’d never make it. Of the pain. Of the mistakes and the past that clings to you. Even the scars—the ones you thought would never fade. Letting them go is the only way forward, the only way to move on. Only then can you begin again.

You glance at Beomgyu, his fingers laced with yours, his grip gentle as he leads you out of this place. His head tilts slightly as he looks back at you, and there it is—that boyish, cheeky smile that has the power to make your heart skip.

All you have to do is surrender.

This surrender is not in defeat, but in trust. Trust in him. Trust with his promises. Trust in the hope of something better.

Trust in yourself.

You’ll be okay.

THE END.

taglist: I love you @.beombunni @.lovingbeomgyudayone @.virtaideen @.hyukascampfire @.fancypeacepersona @.bamgeutori @.lilbrorufr @.beomieeeeeeeeeeees @.soobinbunnie5 @.pagelets @.yoseicour @.baekberrie @.blossommi @.younbeanz @.soohashits @.brrytears @.shycreationdreamland @.notevenheretbh1

[sereia4skz]

I love the way you write for the boys.

Could you possibly write for maybe Han (or whoever you think fits this better) where the reader overhead him talking to another member about paying up for a bet involving her and she gets upset and they argue. But happy ending because the bet actually giving han a timeline to ask the reader out because he was too nervous and if he did it in the time limit the other member would pay for the first date.

If you don't want to write for this that's fine just ignore it lol -Nova 🩷

oneshot | bad bets? good intentions

pairing: han x reader

genre: angst to fluff

warnings: bets, chan pushing han to be brave, reader seems lowkey into han groveling

word count: 914

masterlist: A-Side (texts) | B-Side (written)

You weren’t supposed to hear. You were just packing up your things from Jeongin’s room. He’d passed out mid-movie, and you figured you’d grab your overnight bag and let yourself out quietly. The dorm was quiet, Chan and Jeongin’s shared place always got like this past midnight. You thought Chan was at the studio, but then you heard your name.

"Alright, I’ll pay up," came Chan's voice, half-laughing through the barely cracked door to the kitchen.

You breathed quietly, not to eavesdrop, just not wanting to bother the two.

"You asked her out, didn’t you?"

Silence. Then Jisung's voice, sheepish and soft, "Yeah, barely. You gave me a week, and I did it with like… what? Three hours left?"

Chan laughed, easy, pleased, "Barely counts. She said yes though, right?"

"Of course she did. I’ve been working up to this for months."

You blinked, your fingers froze on the zipper of your bag.

The ringing in your ears was overwhelming, blood pulsed hard against your temples.

Pay up? Week? A deadline?

You backed up before you could hear more. The apartment door was closer than the voices. You slipped your shoes on quietly and left without a sound.

Jisung didn’t hear from you for two days. Not after the goodnight texts. Not after the check-ins or the memes. Not even when he sent a voice note singing your favorite song in a dumb voice to make you laugh.

And the silence was driving him insane.

On the third night, he stood outside your apartment for a full five minutes before working up the nerve to knock. You opened the door halfway, eyes tired, expression unreadable.

His hoodie was rumpled, hair a mess from anxious tossing, and his phone was already in his hand, just in case he needed to show you something to prove he hadn’t completely screwed everything up.

“Hey,” he said, voice small. “Can you… can we talk? Please?”

You didn’t speak, but after a moment, you stepped aside. He exhaled as he stepped in, taking in the warm clutter of your apartment. It looked the same as always. His heart stuttered, noticing his absence had seemingly no impact on your routine. You stayed near the kitchen, arms folded tightly.

“I heard you,” you said. “At the dorm. You and Chan.”

His face went pale. “That’s… not what it sounded like.”

You cocked a brow. “It sounded like I was a deadline? A bet. A joke between you and your hyung.”

Jisung groaned, running his hands down his face. He sat down on your couch like the weight of it knocked the air from his lungs. “Please, let me explain.”

You didn’t respond. You didn’t have to. The silence stretched long enough that he took it as permission.

“I’ve liked you for so long. Like… since Jeongin first introduced us. And every time I tried to tell you, I choked. I’d plan what to say, but the second I saw you smile or say my name, my brain just evaporated.”

He laughed, bitter and breathless. “Chan got tired of watching me suffer, said it was pathetic that for all my lyrics I couldn't muster to ask you out. So he made a bet. He said I had one week to ask you out, and if I did, he’d pay for our first date. If I didn’t, I had to wear a dress and heels and do Britney Spears karaoke.”

Your mouth twitched. You didn’t want it to, but it did.

Jisung caught it, a flicker of hope lit behind his eyes. “It wasn’t about winning anything. It was about giving me a push. He knew I wouldn’t do it otherwise. And I didn’t want to waste more time pretending I wasn’t completely gone for you.”

He stood slowly, moving closer, voice softening. “It was real. Asking you out. Everything we’ve done since? before? It’s the most real thing I’ve ever had. I just… I didn’t think you’d say yes if I told you how scared I was.”

“You should’ve told me,” you said quietly.

“I know. I’m sorry. If I could go back, I’d do it differently. I’d say all the things I wanted to say from the start.” He stopped in front of you, hands twitching like he wanted to reach for you, but didn’t dare.

“But if this is where it ends… I’ll understand. I’ll hate it, but I’ll get it.”

You stared up at him. At the soft curve of his mouth, the nervous flick of his fingers, the ache written across his whole body.

“Do you still want that date?” you asked finally.

He blinked, nodded rapidly. “More than anything.”

“Good. Because if Chan’s paying, I’m ordering the most expensive thing on the menu.”

Jisung’s mouth fell open. “Wait! Does that mean?”

“I’m still mad,” you said, stepping into his space. “But I never said no.”

He breathed out a relieved laugh. “Fair. Yell at me all you want. Just… let me take you out."

You nodded, your expression finally softening. “One condition.”

“Name it.”

“No more dumb secrets.”

He raised his hand like a scout. “Swear. You can even make me wear the heels if I mess it up again.”

“Tempting,” you muttered.

Then, finally, finally, you let him hug you. 

Jisung buried his face in your shoulder and whispered, "I missed you like hell."

You rolled your eyes, but your hand slid into his hoodie pocket all the same.

“Don’t make me regret this.”

“You won’t.”

taglist: @diekleinesuesse @tillaboo @felixsonlyrealwife @geni-627 @skz8riley @lezleeferguson-120 @pixie-felix @headfirstfortoro @alnex05 @baby-stay92 @encoredesires @androgynouscrownorbit @channiesluvrclub @my-neurodivergent-world @chims-dimple @bookswillfindyouaway @stellasays45 @angel-writes-skz-here @m-325 @0sunshinecryptid0 @beal-o @hug4helios @oksullen @rileylovescats @dreamyfelixx @yxna-bliss

[pierregazly]

but mama, i love him ꨄ oscar piastri smau

oscar piastri x leclerc!reader

the one where oscar's girlfriend has been soft launching their relationship for ages. and he's okay with it, especially if it means he can keep hiding in plain sight from her three overprotective brothers.

ynleclerc

tagged charles_leclerc

liked by charles_leclerc, arthur_leclerc, oscarpiastri, and others

ynleclerc omg omg omg... charles leclerc signed my hat? should i add it to the shrine? give them something to sacrifice?

view all comments

username any non-f1 fan would automatically assume ynleclerc is a crazy fan page for charles

username or a charles leclerc hate page... all she does it make fun of her brothers here

username she's offering her signed hat for the tifosi to sacrifice for a CL16 win??? that seems like pure love all around

arthur_leclerc i also signed your hat?

ynleclerc i also do not care? will a hat signed by you get me millions if i sell it for sacrificial purposes?

charles_leclerc what's next? my personal belongings?

ynleclerc is that an offer? if so, oui. i will take what i think will make me the most money next time i'm there, merci <3

scuderiaferrari if it gets us a 1-2 finish, sacrifice everything ynleclerc... please 🙏

username being a Ferrari fan is so satisfying when you remember ynleclerc is an automatic inclusion in everything and anything charles does

username the things i would do to have her as a McLaren fan... she's too beautiful for Ferrari 😭

oscarpiastri a piastri hat will get you good money in straya btw

username oscar??

oscarpiastri

liked by logansargeant, landonorris, mclaren, and others

oscarpiastri 'stop hitting me with the ball on purpose you jerk' was said more times than it should've been, by someone who really just sucks at tennis. had an awesome week back home, time to get back to it 💪

view all comments

logansargeant no wonder you're so worried about getting run over

username the coordinating outfits?? i'm gonna scream, who is she!!!

username what does logan know, tell us your secrets girl logansargeant

username oscar is gonna soft launch this relationship until the end of time. show us her face, you coward!!

ynleclerc did you pay her for all the bruises that tennis ball left?? poor girl

oscarpiastri it's not my fault she's a terrible tennis player, we all know i've offered to pay for a trainer

landonorris so this is why you couldn't come to bali with me 🤨

username lando really said i'm the third wheel??

username to be fair i'd probably pick oscar's girlfriend over lando for a week away too

username girly you don't even know who she is!!! she could be the devil

username i wanna be included in oscar's post week home photo dump :(

ynleclerc has posted a story

liked by oscarpiastri, logansargeant, pascale.leclerc.355, and others

replies

oscarpiastri you can call me pookie whenever you want if you're gonna post things like this

ynleclerc i'd call you pookie with or without your permission, mon amour

charles_leclerc who is this

charles_leclerc why won't you tell us who you're dating

charles_leclerc we won't hurt him

charles_leclerc answer my texts

ynleclerc

liked by oscarpiastri, pascale.leclerc.355, arthur_leclerc, and others

ynleclerc get you a man who can do both, luckiest woman in the world whenever you're around. mon amour 🤍

view all comments

username people involved in formula 1 and their obsession with soft launching everything NEEDS to be studied

username at least she posts her boyfriend and he isn't just a small figure in the background of every post (charles this is a direct hate comment)

arthur_leclerc this would have been very lovely if it weren't for the last photo

liked by charles_leclerc and lorenzotl

ynleclerc suppose it's a good thing you could easily ignore it. cheers :)

pascale.leclerc.355 trés belle, ma fille 💗

charles_leclerc maman?

username could you IMAGINE if ynleclerc told pascale but obviously hasn't told her brothers? i can FEEL the outrage

username starting to think this may be a driver, ynleclerc is at every race weekend and ALWAYS makes a post with her mystery man at some point during the week after...

username okay ms sleuth (i think it's lando)

username i'm like 65% sure it's oscar, and 35% positive it's someone that looks a lot like oscar

ynleclerc

tagged oscarpiastri

liked by oscarpiastri, logansargeant, landonorris, and others

ynleclerc someone exposed us on twitter, so i had to expose us on instagram 😮‍💨

comments on this post have been limited

oscarpiastri love you <3

oscarpiastri i will love you even when a ferrari has run me over, of course.

arthur_leclerc is this your way of telling me i was right, without texting me back?

charles_leclerc this must be a joke, non?

pascale.leclerc.355 so very excited to finally be able to invite the both of you for dinner. trés belle 🤍

charles_leclerc maman, you knew?

ynleclerc oscar and i will see you for sunday dinner, maman! <3

tresbelleleclercspam

liked by logansargeant, charles_leclerc, alexandrasaintmleux, and others

ynleclerc live feed of oscar running away from charles in the paddock when he said he 'just wanted to talk, mate'

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charles_leclerc i truly just wanted to talk about the race

charles_leclerc i did not have a speech planned, non

arthur_leclerc i did have a speech planned

lorenzotl i just wanted to welcome him to the family, as a good big brother should

oscarpiastri my apple watch warned me of an overactive heart rate 5 times today. why did you do this to me. why couldn't you have three sisters???

ynleclerc so very sorry, in our next life i'll try to make sure you only have to worry about sisters and not three overprotective brothers

oscarpiastri as long as i get to spend every lifetime with you <3

i actually got a request for something like this ages ago, and finally got around to finishing it. i so hope you all loved it as much as i loved writing it. thank you for all the support!!

i'm not currently taking requests, but if anyone has lil suggestions or prompts please feel free to send them.

[la-patrona-magdalena]

Synopsis:

You always wanted your family to look at you, even just once. At least with a bit of the affection they gave to the portraits of your mother. Too bad that when they finally did, you were looking at the pages of a comic that showed the cruel future.

Inspired by the manhwa: no place for the Fake Princess

Warnings: English is not my first language, so I used a translator. Yandere content, neglect, abandonment, angst (?), allusions to death, original character (not the reader), allusions to torture. I try to keep the gender neutral,but in part there are mostly feminine pronouns. If any warnings are missing here, please let me know.

Disclaimer: This fanfic is for personal reading only. The use of this text for AI model training, data mining, commercial purposes, or any automated reproduction is strictly prohibited without the explicit consent of the author. Translation or reposting to other platforms is also strictly prohibited without the author's permission

Thank you.

You can read the fanfic in its original language (Spanish) on my AO3

Big thanks to @seleneprince for being the English beta reader

previous chapter - Next chapter

Masterlist

Chapter Three - Seeing into the void

Studying today was hard. At first, as your teacher began the class, you thought the best thing would be to study, sake advantage of the high‑level education being part of this family can offer you for now, but you were still too overwhelmed by last night and this morning. Halfway through, you thought about going to tell your da-… Bruce, if he could let you skip your classes today.

He probably would have agreed, even though you… even though Bruce doesn’t hug you, pay attention to you, or look at you, he never refused your requests—so long as they weren’t about giving you attention.

Which is equivalent to nothing, because you don’t even speak to him when you need something. Almost every time you needed anything, if not every single time, you went through Alfred.

Sometimes you wondered if Bruce even listened to what Alfred told him, or if he just agreed to get you out of his hair. One of these days you’ll ask for something ridiculous just to test your theory.

Though, with what you now know, his attitude toward you makes sense.

In the end, you decided not to say anything because, first, it would be very odd to suddenly skip classes; you already had Tim worried about you after last night, and you didn’t want to worsen his strange behavior. And second, you thought that once your last class ended, you’d feel more relieved.

But you didn’t.

Somehow—though you have no idea how—you made it through today’s lessons until you reached your knitting workshop.

You stared at the balls of yarn in front of you with no enthusiasm. Yarn is the only thing you know that truly belongs to you in this house; neither your family nor your place in this mansion are yours. You never should’ve been here in the first place.

Your room is empty because you wanted to save space for the gifts you hoped they’d give you…after all, you have like five siblings! You have five… five people who live so close to you… and the rest… and… You don't know how to refer to such a large family where you steal someone's place.

Part of you is relieved those spaces remain vacant, if they’d given you anything, you’d feel it didn’t belong to you.

Instead, there are only your basic things, plus decorations, cushions, and blankets you made yourself from yarn you knitted. Some were ugly, but you still loved them. And now, you love them even more, because they’re the only things truly yours in this empty mansion.

Despite that, you haven't started knitting, you haven't picked up the needles, you've already received instructions from your teacher, but you don't have the spirit to start anything.

—Sweetheart, is something wrong?— she asked, noticing your distant gaze. You felt a slight chill run through you when her voice pulled you from your trance. — No… It’s just me… — You didn’t know what to say. Mrs. Sophia had always been so kind to you, and you wanted to tell her everything. But you’d decided not to tell anyone… and now you didn’t know who to trust. What if she was only nice because of the money Mr. Bruce paid her? — We can end the class now, if you’d like. — Her tone was gentle. She approached, as if to place her hand on your shoulder, but stopped herself and lowered her arm. “Today’s work will be your homework, okay?”

Honestly, you have no energy to continue—even though this was your favorite workshop, the one you’d requested yourself. — I’d really appreciate that… — you managed your best smile.

A few minutes later, the room was empty.

You walked through the hallways, feeling even more distant because of what you’d discovered. You had to set a plan in motion to escape this place, and erase every trace proving you’d ever been a Wayne, before the Joker learned of your existence, if he doesn’t already know and hasn’t used that information against you.

You have five years, counting this one, to plan how to flee a clown with a record for breaking out of a maximum‑security prison, and to wipe your identity from the world’s greatest detective.

You returned to your room, left your unfinished assignments from every class on your desk, and instead of beginning them as you normally would, you went straight to look under your bed for the three comics.

Thank goodness Alfred hadn’t tidied up today; with everything that happened, you’d forgotten to hide your daily pill, You saved yourself that trouble and the trouble of explaining everything.

You sat on the bed holding the two comics. Having them back in your hands and in front of you made your body feel heavy and your breathing quicken, you hadn’t touched these comics since before you discovered Tim’s double life.

You took your small Bluey wool plush and squeezed it, breathing as Tim had taught you to the night before.

You have to calm down. You can't panic every time you see the future on some pages. Your crisis will be worse if you let what you saw there happen.

Your heart steadies as air fills your lungs more normally. The poor blue plush in your hands is a little damaged by the force of your grip, you’re sure your nails could have pierced the fabric.

You’ll fix it later. For now, your priority is to think about what you’ll do with your life in the years you have left to plan.

What would someone as brilliant as Bruce or Tim do in your situation?

This isn’t a case, unless you consider your escape and disappearance one.

Well, the first thing you’d do if you were a vigilante hunting a criminal would be… investigate. Gather information.

Exactly. First, you’d compile every detail from the comics you thought might be useful, and with that, you’d figure out your best options for getting away.

Alfred was slightly surprised.

— Since class began, I’ve noticed her distant. I should check that her health is all right… though perhaps she didn’t sleep well. — all your teachers told him. It wasn’t a big deal, until Mrs. Sophia, your favorite teacher from your favorite workshop, said the same thing as she bade him goodbye, leaving much earlier than usual.

He, more than anyone, knew you were behaving out of the ordinary. He wanted to ask young Tim what happened last night, but Tim had already rushed off to solve the case Bruce assigned him. Although Alfred already knew that your strange behavior had begun long before Tim accompanied you to bed, after all, you’d skipped lunch and taken refuge in your room hours earlier.

Dinner’s aroma began to fill the kitchen. Alfred silently replayed your reaction when Tim led you into the study and how you spent the rest of the day isolated. He granted you the space you needed, though it weighed on him to see you so alone.

He rested a hand on the phone, waiting for the pot to start boiling, intending to call Tim just to ask if anything else had happened… but in that moment he received a message from Tim: reserve a plate for dinner and “I'll be there in a while.”

Alfred smiled softly to himself. At least you wouldn’t be alone with him and Damian. Even if you appreciate your silence, a little company never hurts.

He called young Damian, who’d returned from the academy a while ago, then welcomed Tim back, and finally came for you. Knowing you, You yourself would tell him what was happening to you.

When you opened the door to your room, despite looking clearly tired and somewhat sad, you seemed a little more determined. The smile you gave him when he saw him, though forced, had a hint of sincerity. Although he was somewhat relieved that you seemed better than you had this morning, a part of him knew something wasn't right with you.

—Young lady, has it been your stomach or your spirits that decided to go on strike today?— You shook your head, your signature smile still in place—so different from Bruce’s, yet one he cherished like a child’s.

— I’m sorry, Alfred… it’s just that today…— The sentence was left unfinished, just like your energy after investigating. You didn't want to cause more problems. You had enough with Tim. You didn't want to worry the only one who had the decency to look at you in this family.

You gathered information and jotted it down on the back of your knitting-pattern notebook: the things you noticed at first glance—like the Joker’s plan, the day and how he carried out the kidnapping. The location. Simple details, instead of digging deeper or analyzing everything thoroughly. You noticed that, in part, Mr. Wayne seemed a little worried when Serelith first came into their lives. Perhaps you could worry him as a person rather than a family member. It wasn't the best, but you could understand.

—You don’t need to tell me if it makes you uncomfortable, however, you do need to eat some real food at least.

Alfred's voice brought you out of your thoughts. You laughed and walked beside Alfred toward the table. You thought it best to give him an excuse for your attitude. Even if Alfred wasn't the type of person to pressure you, that strange tension in the air that had been there since yesterday might disappear.

If you were a night watchman… What lie would you tell? Maybe something that's already happened before?

— The truth is… some kids at the store recognized me from an old photo. — It was a harmless lie, no one had actually recognized you, not even the clerk. But Alfred hadn’t gone into the store with you, so he wouldn’t know the truth.

— Is that so? — he asked, now giving you his full attention. — Yeah… They… They… — you stammered nervously, thinking about how to continue. Which Alfred interpreted as you having trouble saying what happened. — It’s okay — he tried to comfort you, placing his hand on your back, though it had the opposite effect.

— They told me I was my mother’s murderer! — you suddenly blurted out. It was the most logical thing you could come up with. You remembered a few times when some people had blamed you for your mother’s death… Serelith’s mother. It hurt you, but not so much now, although for some reason it's been a while since you heard those hurtful words from others. It's not like you went out much, but still…

Alfred sighed, partly relieved that you had told him what happened on your own. He knew how sad you got whenever someone brought up her death. The first time he had taken you out had been some time after a teacher posted a picture with you, bragging about teaching a Wayne. The image spread quickly, making you recognizable. He still winced at the memory of how you cried that day after a fan of your mother insulted you.

He stopped for a few moments. Aware that you were close enough to the main dining room for both Damian and Tim to have heard your conversation. He just hoped they wouldn’t react the way young Todd did years ago. Although he wouldn't mind if the kid who insulted you was taught a lesson. Alfred looked at you, knowing there was more to the story, something you were hiding—but for now, what you’d told him would be enough.

— Young one, whatever anyone says about you, adult or child, it will never change who you are. — he consoled you, still with his hand on your back. You stayed silent for a few seconds, his words sinking deeper than you expected them to. You reflected for a moment, it was true, what others said didn’t change anything about you—and before Alfred could react, you bolted down the hallway toward your father’s office.

— Give me a second and I’ll go to dinner! — you shouted excitedly, as Alfred watched you with a smile, seeing you return to your usual energy.

Maybe, just maybe, even with everything you saw. The comics, what you know, it might not be who you are, you're not his family, you're not Serelith, you're not capable enough to be another vigilante, but… Maybe, just maybe he cares enough for you, at least he'd keep you in a safe place. He'd look after you like any other normal civilian.

The little bit of hope you had from that short scene in the comics grew stronger thanks to Alfred’s words, even if they said all those things. It wouldn’t change the small but important things Mr. Wayne had done for you.

If he didn’t care, if you didn’t matter, he wouldn’t take care of you, right? He wouldn’t accept everything you say or even pay your tutors, would he? He might look at you even if not as family, just… just as a human…

— Dick, no. We’ve already talked about this. — Bruce, please.

You stop in front of his office, listening to an argument—and you clearly hear your father’s voice. — It’s what’s best for her. — For her or for you? It’s been so long—we even forgot she existed, for God’s sake! If Tim hadn’t called me this afternoon, I wouldn’t think of her at all…

Ouch….was that Dick? Wait, had they forgotten you? Did you matter so little?. You lean against the wall, curiosity and fear curling up inside you as you listen to what they’re arguing about. — He took a risk, he didn’t even know that she… — That she what? What fault does a little girl have? Why does she deserve this treatment? — Because she’s the reason Avery is dead!

Your heart stops cold. You feel your temperature spike… Avery was the name of…of Serelith’s mother, your supposed mother. Were they talking about you? You should have known when he mentioned Tim… You listen more intently, though your vision is blurring.

— But we could try; maybe she turns out different, maybe with enough effort we can change her… — She’ll never change, Dick.

Your legs start to tremble. Are you mishearing them? Maybe not… they aren’t talking about you—just a coincidence… A coincidence that they mention how Avery died on the day you were born, Serelith’s day… Why is your body sweating so much? And why do you feel so nauseous? Is it because you haven’t been eating properly? — If we don’t try… — It’s not safe, it never will be. It’s the best for everyone, and for her. It’s better if we don’t even look at her, if we treat her like she's been dead since the day she was born.

Move. You try to move, but everything… everything you see turns into black spots.

You can’t afford to doubt now. That's what you told yourself, lying down without sheets and with your legs elevated on some pillows, waking up in your room, with Tim and Damian, both looking worried, and giving each other death glares. Meanwhile, in the distance, you heard two voices.

— Vasovagal syncope, fainting from stress. Aggravated by poor nutrition. It’s harmless, but we should call Dr. Leslie, just in case. — Thank God… When I found her lying in the hallway, I thought…

You cover your ears with your hands, your brow furrowed with stress, you don’t want to hear anything more from Dick or anyone… You just… you just want to plan how to leave…

As you try to silence the noise, ignoring it in your head, you think about what you could do with your life. You should study twice as hard, maybe get a scholarship at some university and then leave the city, no, the country, the farther from that crazy clown the better. You’ll open a small craft shop and live like a civilian, free of the Wayne name. When Serelith appears, it would be all you could do to be removed from the family. You had no idea what kind of paperwork you'd have to do; you just knew you couldn't afford to keep falling like this, even with Alfred's words still on your mind.

At least now you’re free of doubts above all else. You’re going to push yourself to fulfill what Mr. Wayne said: not only not to be seen by the Joker, not to be looked at as a Wayne daughter, but not to be seen by anyone. As if you were dead.

Three weeks weren’t enough for me, aaaaaaaaah. On the other hand, changing the update schedule to Saturdays, Eastern South America Time (UTC-5), was a good idea for my rhythm. For now, updates every three weeks will continue.

I think some tags might be wrong... I apologize for that.

With this, we can more or less say that we’re closing the reader’s arc, taking it all in. In the next chapters, there will probably be more time skips and more focus on the other members of the Batfam. I wanted to wrap this up first. I hope it turned out better than I think it did. 😔

Anyway, thank you again for the lovely messages you leave on each chapter. Even if I don’t reply to all of them or take until the next update to respond, please know that I really appreciate them and I read each and every one of you. Have a great da

Taglist

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[smutoperator]

Like a Demon

Bae Joohyun (Irene) x Male Reader

Tags: begging, crime, creampie, dungeon, (lots of) edging, female domination, facesitting, handcuffing, kidnapping, nymphomaniac, riding, sex demon, supernatural, table sex, worshipping

Word count: 4378

It just seems like a regular night. You go to the bar, order a cocktail, and watch the most recent onslaught of bad news coming from the TV. The drink arrives; you enjoy it—just another day.

There is until a woman occupies the chair by your side.

"Hello," the 30-something woman starts talking to you. She wears a beautiful red dress. "You must be doing a lot of business," she says, looking at the suit you're wearing as she drinks her whisky while the news talks about the story of a woman that has been running over town kidnapping men.

"What a crazy story, don't you think?" you ask her as you try to talk to the woman on your side. "Definitely, I've never seen something like this before," she answers. "By the way, what is your name?" you then pivot. "Bae, but people prefer to call me Irene instead," she says.

"Alright, Irene," you say to her. "I'll be back soon; I need to go to the bathroom," you tell her. Irene patiently waits as you take your time, checking more news about the case you saw on TV out of curiosity, until you read the description of the woman.

"A very short, dark-haired, pale-skinned Asian girl."

You go back to the bar and look at Irene, who perfectly fits it. "I have to go now," you tell her as you move toward the car, but just as you are about to enter the door, you feel a vampire-esque biting on your neck that makes you suddenly collapse.

You wake up in a dungeon, completely naked with your hands tied. Irene is right there by your side as she starts running her soft hands over your legs. "I can feel your body craving for something," she says, the movement of her hands matching with your throbbing cock.

"Please, have mercy," you ask Irene, knowing that you are completely screwed. "Did you say something?" Irene asks, pretending not to hear you pleading. "Please, don't hurt me," you beg harder.

"Hurt?" Irene asks. "I'm not going to hurt you; quite the opposite, I want to please you," she continues, touching her soft hands on your shaft and running circles around the tip of your cock. "Follow my orders, and I won't hurt you," she says.

"Alright," you say, panting as Irene starts edging you. Her face is insanely gorgeous, but the work her hands make around the tip of your cock is probably even more divine. "As long as you don't cum without my permission, I won't hurt you," she says.

You try to resist the magic touch of Irene's hands, but she makes it very hard for you. "If you cum, you're going to die," she tells you as she increases the heat on your cock.

Irene slowly starts using her tongue over your cock. "Oh yes," you tell her as her thirsty red lips make their way into your shaft. She puts your cock slowly in her mouth, tasting it very patiently as she runs her tongue over your shaft, enjoying your torso moving as you breathe loudly just to survive her sexy mouth.

"Oh yes, oh yes, I want you so badly, please," you moan as Irene does what she pleases to your cock, her beautiful mouth driving you insane and sucking the soul out of you like a demon. She closes her eyes and tastes your throbbing cock with lots of hunger, moving her tongue around your tips as she shoves it deeper and deeper in her mouth and enjoys you groaning and moaning.

"Oh my God," you say as Irene gives you her first deepthroat, stroking your shaft and watching it throb. "Look at you, baby, shaking so hard with my touch, begging for more," Irene says as she keeps going with the blowjob, getting louder with the movements of her mouth and faster with her strokes.

"More, please," you beg Irene as you look into her beautiful face. "Put it deep in your throat," you beg her. "Oh fuck," you then groan as Irene gives you a huge deepthroat. Irene smiles; she's got your cock completely under her control.

"Tell me what you want, baby," Irene says to you. "I want more," you answer her. "Louder," she answers. "I WANT MORE," you say with all your energy, Irene ready for more soul-sucking blowjobs, as she puts it in her mouth. "Oh my God, that's so good," you moan as she massages your balls and gets your shaft even more wet.

You keep telling Irene how good her cocksucking skills are as she moves faster and faster with your shaft. She touches your tip, toying with your cock. "Baby, please," you beg her. "Let me hear it," she says. "Please, I want more," you tell Irene, her licking your shaft and starting another round of cocksucking. "Just like that, please," you tell her.

"I want you so fucking badly, oh my god," you tell Irene. "Tell me," she says. "I want your mouth all over my cock; I want to feel your touch; I want to fuck you." You show your intentions to her as Irene now gives you a no-hands blowjob.

"Yes, please, just like that, fuck," you tell her, Irene now moving crazy fast and bobbing her head all over your shaft, enjoying every second of it. "Give me more," you beg her as Irene stops for more playing before getting away from you, walking across the room with her.

Irene massages your torso with her feet and then puts it in your mouth. You lick it, worshipping another beautiful part of her body. She puts a foot on your neck as she twists her hand once again all over your cock, stroking it quite hard this time while staring at you with sexy eyes.

"Oh yes, don't stop, you're going to make me cum," you tell Irene before she ruins your orgasm. "Fuck, you're edging me so good," you tell her as your cock pulsates. "Please, keep going," you beg her as the cock stroking continues, her laughing in your face as you almost lose your breath.

"Keep going, make me your little slave, take it," you keep begging Irene, who strokes your cock like a crazy demon before sucking it a little more with a hard head-bobbing. "Hmmm, delicious," she says with her right foot in your mouth as you try to survive her fast strokes.

"Do you want to cum, baby?" Irene asks you. "YES, FUCK," you scream as she pushes really hard. "Please, have mercy on me," you continue to beg. "Well, I told you the rules: if you cum right now, I'll kill you," she says.

"Alright, I won't cum," you tell Irene as she looks at you with hungry eyes, slowly taking off her dress and unveiling the sexy black lingerie underneath it. "How much do you want me?" she asks you. "I'd do anything to have you," you tell her.

"Would you eat my ass and my pussy to have that big fat cock inside me?" Irene asks. "Yes, of course," you answer her. Irene hears you and starts climbing on top of the table. "Oh my god," you say as you admire her beautiful, cute butt, and she takes her panties off, unveiling her already dripping wet pussy.

"Oh yes, please," you say as Irene slowly sits on your face. "Oh, I want it," you tell her as Irene starts moaning while you worship her pussy. "Ahhhh, baby," she says as she presses her hands on your chest. "YEAH," she celebrates as you start tonguing her folds, Irene grabbing your cock and massaging it.

"You're under my full control, ahhhh," Irene says as she turns into a moaning mess, your face all over her wet cunt. She grinds on your face, putting you under total submission while she edges your cock. "OH YEAH BABY," she screams.

Irene covers your face with her juices as you don't stop working around her folds. She looks at your wet face, kissing you and cleaning it up. "You did a good job with my pussy; keep going, baby," Irene says as you oblige, tonguing her clit and making her moan, working your mouth like crazy as you give her pink pussy the treatment it deserves.

Irene moans like a good slut. "OHHHH YEAHHH, DON'T STOP BABY," she screams, her tits almost popping out of her bra as you make her cum multiple times with your tongue. "OH FUCK, AHHHH," Irene groans as you keep working your magic, her now bouncing her ass in your face.

"Please, lick it, oh fuck," you beg for Irene as she gets out of your face and sucks your cock again. "I want more," you once again beg. "Do you?" she aggressively asks. "Yes, I do, please," you answer her.

"Then eat my ass," Irene orders as she gets back on top of you, leaning forward as she lets you bury your face in her butt. "Ahhhh," Irene moans. "Thank you," you tell her, savoring her asshole that smells like a flower while she strokes your cock.

"Ahhhh, fuck, yeah," Irene moans as she gets her ass eaten out, bobbing her head on your cock using her hands to muffle her moans. "Oh baby, you eat that ass so good," she tells you, moaning loud as she sucks your balls while you grab her waist to firmly grip her ass.

"OH FUCK," Irene moans as your tongue runs all over her asshole, trying to compete with more cock-sucking. She gets sideways, but you worship her feet. "Remember, you can't fucking cum until I tell you," she says. "Whatever you say, you're my master," you tell her.

Irene sits on your face and strokes your cock. "OH MY GOD, AHHHH," she moans, enjoying the work you give to her holes. "Turn around," she tells you as she starts massaging your cock from behind. You can feel her folds rubbing against your back as she moves. "You've got such a beautiful cock, so long and thick, throbbing for me," she says as she grabs your balls and runs her hands all over it.

"Your cock looks so big in my hand," Irene says as she strokes it, edging you while squeezing your balls in her right hand. "Fuck, this has so much length and girth; I can't wait to have it in my pussy. Such a big fat cock, I've been yearning for it for so long," she continues.

"I love how your cock feels in my hands, such a gorgeous thick cock," Irene says as you just close your eyes not to cum while she edges you, using the spit she left all over it to slide with ease, giving your shaft the best possible massage.

"Fuck, this cock is gonna feel so good between my legs; it looks so delicious," Irene says as she squeezes some precum out of your cock with her massage. "So much precum for me; you must be really holding strong for my pussy," she tells you.

"Lean on your back, baby, let me sit on this cock," Irene says as she takes off her bra, showing you her bare, perky boobs. "Do you want my pussy?" she asks you. "Yes, please, give it to me," you beg her. But Irene is in no rush, circling the tip of your cock in her entrance and teasing you.

"Oh my God, use me, please, use me, give me that pussy," you keep begging Irene. "Please, please, please," you say as Irene continues to tease, rubbing your cock between her cracks before she inserts it in her tight pussy.

"Oh my God, fuck, it feels so good," you tell Irene as she finally sinks your cock in her wet cunt. She runs her hands on your torso and starts very slowly, just putting half of your length inside. "Tell me how much you want that pussy," she tells you as your cock slides out of it. "My life depends on it; please, put it back in," you beg her.

Irene uses the accidental sliding out as an opportunity for more teasing, showing you she's in complete control. "Put it back in; I want it so bad. Your pussy is so good; yes, please," you keep begging as she slides back in, moving her hips very calmly as she kisses you. "Oh fuck," you groan as Irene kisses your neck.

"You're all mine, baby," Irene whispers in your ear as she grabs your neck. "Faster, please," you beg her as Irene sinks your cock deeper in her pussy. "Yes, please," you tell her.

"I'll make you scream," Irene says as she grinds on your cock. Pressing on your chest hard, she finally starts to pick up the pace. "I want you to use my cock for your pleasure," you tell her, Irene running her hands over her hair as she bounces on you, her erected nipples pointing hard in your direction.

"Want to watch that cock going in and out of my beautiful pussy?" Irene asks, spreading her legs and showing your shaft buried in her warm hole. "Yes, please," you tell her. Everything Irene asks you to do, you will. She slowly bounces up and down on your cock. "It feels so good inside me," she says, her moves driving you crazy.

Irene takes your cock out of her pussy one more time, sitting her folds on top of it and grinding on your shaft. "You said you wanted me to use that cock for my pleasure, baby boy," Irene says, enjoying your tip rubbing against her clit. "Teasing that cock, I love it," she says.

"Please, put it back inside; I want more," you tell Irene. "I don't think you want it; show me, baby," she answers. "I do, please," you keep begging. "I want your pussy, yes, Irene, please," you continue to plead.

Irene finally commits as she puts your cock back in her pussy. "Oh my god, just like that, bounce on my cock," you tell her, Irene suddenly flipping a switch and going really hard. "OH YEAH, AHHHH," she moans as your cock impales her tight hole, her legs shaking as her wet pussy doesn't take long to get on the verge of orgasm.

Irene briefly pauses her ride for you to beg more. "Let me hear you," she says. "Please, please, please," you keep begging. "How much do you want it?" she asks. "I want it so badly," you answer. Irene feels pity for you, turning around and grinding on your cock while she shows you her ass. "I need your pussy," you beg as your shaft seems so close yet so far at the same time, rubbing it against her folds like a toy she decides when she wants to play with it.

"Oh yeah," you groan as Irene makes good work of your cock. "I love to fucking use that cock," Irene says as she spins on your cock, finally showing her riding prowess to the fullest.

Irene picks up the speed, getting your cock all the way in her pussy while rotating all over it. "Let's see how strong you are," she tells you. "It's so fucking deep in your pussy; that feels so good," you tell her as she continues to move, pushing your cock to the edge with beautiful bounces as she opens and closes her legs.

"Oh my God," you groan as Irene now moves at full speed. "Yeah," she groans, moving her legs really fast and moaning loudly. "AHHHHH," you groan loudly. "OH FUCK, YES, YES," she moans, fingering her clit and getting herself ready to cum, her legs trembling as she gets your shaft all the way inside her.

"Yes, yes, baby, bounce on that cock," you tell Irene as she makes the table creak. "Fuck, baby, that cock is so good, I'm gonna cum," she says as she coats your cock full of her juices.

Irene pulls out one more time and turns in your direction, massaging your balls while she looks in your eye. "Look how I own this cock, I'm in full control of you, baby boy," she says, moving the massage upwards to your shaft, pushing it to the edge one more time. She looks at you one more time. "Keep telling me how much you want it," she says. "I want it so bad," you answer her again as Irene runs her hands on your torso.

Irene offers you her wet pussy for you to suck as you make her squirt, grinding it on your face while she keeps stroking your cock, covering your face with her juices. "OH YEAH FUCK," she says as you worship her pussy, eating it out like an animal as she closes her legs on your head. "OH MY GOD, YES, YES, EAT THAT PUSSY, BABY," she begs.

"I wanna touch you; I wanna feel you, please," you continue to beg as Irene now gets on top of you, the scent of her perfume all over your nostrils. She unties your wrists from the table as you keep kissing her body. "Are you ready to touch me further, baby boy?" she asks, setting you free.

You run your hands all over Irene's tiny, beautiful body, kissing her as she sniffs you. "Please, I want more," you say it again. "You want more?" Irene asks, putting herself sideways as you insert your cock back in her pussy. "Oh yes," you groan as Irene's tight folds wrap around your shaft one more time.

"Go nice and slow, baby," Irene tells you, and you initially oblige but quickly pick up the pace. "Oh yes, baby, fuck me," she says, moaning as she moves her hips in response to your thrusts. "Look at me giving that cock some long strokes with my beautiful pussy," she says.

"Speed it up, baby," Irene commands as you fuck her even harder, your balls smashing against her throbbing clit as you grab her waist. "I want all of it, deep in your fucking pussy," you tell her. "OHHH YESSS BABY," she moans.

"Fuck me, baby, fuck me until you cum inside my pussy," Irene tells you as you start fingering her clit. "YES, YES, YES, AHHH, FUCK," she moans, closing her eyes as her legs shake and she creams all over your cock. "GIVE ME MORE, PLEASE, OH MY GOD," she begs, the sound of your balls clapping her cheeks getting louder.

"YEAH, YEAH, OHHHH, FUCK," Irene moans even louder. "Oh my God, your pussy is so tight," you tell her. "Please, baby, make me cum; that's it," she says, louder sounds coming from you pounding her. "Put it back in," she is now the one begging as your cock goes out just for a bit before going back inside with full force.

You grope Irene's beautiful tits as the pounding continues. You intensely finger her clit. "OH MY GOD, YES, BABY, MAKE ME CUM," she begs as her pussy now gets stretched out hard. "THAT'S IT, THAT'S IT, RIGHT THERE, RIGHT THERE, AHHHH," she commands.

"HARDER, HARDER, HARDER, I'M GONNA CUM," Irene says as she squirts hard. You push your face into her pussy, eating it all out as you kiss her, before putting it back inside her, drilling her in a hot missionary position as you grab your tie and wrap it on your neck, letting her choke you.

Irene puts the tie on your mouth as you increase the pressure in her pussy, moaning as you finger her clit really hard, laughing as you turn yourself into a crazy animal. "Worship me, baby, kiss my body," she says, getting herself on all fours.

You fuck Irene on all fours like crazy. "Fuck me hard, yes, yes," she says, you spanking her ass as her juices leak into the table as her cunt gets stretched out. "OH MY GOD, FUCK, FUCK, FUCK, YEAH, FUCK ME HARDER," she continues to beg, moving her hips in your direction.

"Right there, baby, don't stop; pound that pussy," Irene continues to command, her palms on the table as you fuck her hard. "OH MY GOD YOU'RE SO FUCKING DEEP, AHHHH," she moans. You grab her arms, using her hard. "YES, YES, FUCK, THAT'S SO DEEP," she screams. You hit her pale pink ass, finally getting to dominate her as you let your animalistic instincts take off.

"Put it back in, keep going," Irene softly whispers as you pull out. You tease her pussy, giving it small thrusts before going back to a hard pounding, Irene spreading her legs over the table as you hit her ass but smiling at all times and showing you she's still in control.

You eat Irene's ass and play with your thumb on her clit. "Yes, baby, eat my ass," she commands as your tongue is all over her pink anal folds. "HARDER, HARDER, PUT YOUR FINGER IN MY CLIT AND YOUR MOUTH IN MY ASS, FUCKKKK," she says, you massaging her clit now very hard and making Irene squirt all over the table.

You insert your cock back in Irene's pussy, pounding her hard as you lick her feet. "Yes, that's what I want to see baby, worship every inch of my body," she says. You grab her tits too, sucking them as you pound her pussy. "YESSS, FUCK," she moans, fingering herself as you are more addicted to her pussy than ever, making her body bounce all over the table.

"Don't stop, baby, keep rubbing my fucking clit, yes, harder, don't stop, fuck," Irene commands as her body shakes with your thrusts. "I'M CUMMING, I'M CUMMING, I'M CUMMING, YEAHHH," she says, squirting as you kiss her and then worship her body one more time.

You lie on the table, letting Irene voraciously suck your cock, jerking it off nonstop as she bobs her head on it. "I bet the cum from your cock tastes so good," she says, deepthroating you and giving you a no-hands blowjob before sitting back on your cock and bouncing hard on it.

"Yes, yes, yes, baby, give me all of that cock," Irene says as she rides you like a maniac. "You like watching me being a slut and squatting all over that cock?" she asks, going at full speed.

"FUCK, YES, YES, YES," Irene moans as you suddenly push upwards into her delicious cunt. "OH MY GOD, FUCK, THAT'S IT," she says, you putting your legs up and attacking her pussy nonstop, clapping her cheeks hard. "FUCK, FUCK, FUCK," she screams, you grabbing her body as her perky tits bounce all over her face.

Irene grabs your neck, retaking control as she rides you hard and makes you groan. You still push up, going crazy for her tight pussy. But despite her little frame, she's just too strong, squatting like crazy on your dick and pushing you to complete submission.

"You're gonna make me fucking cum, you fucking slut," you tell Irene. "Then I want you to cum in my pussy," she replies. "For real?" you ask her. "Yes, I'm going to take all of your cum. I want all that fucking cum inside me. Give it to me; cum inside my little fucking pussy," she begs you. "I don't know if it's a good idea," you hesitate. "Of course it is, especially because I'm not on the pill," Irene replies.

"Oh damn, I'm gonna cum," you tell Irene. "Yes, baby, do it just like I want it; give it to me," she says. "AHHHHHH, fuck," you start to groan as your cock prepares to fill Irene's womb with your seed. "Yes, baby, give it to me, every last drop," she says.

You cum inside Irene, with her grabbing a string of semen coming out of your cock and digging it inside her pussy before taking a bit of it to taste. "This is my cum," she says, tasting it and savoring it as she opens her tongue, looking at you very naughtly. "All of your cum belongs to me; are we clear?" she asks. "Yes," you answer her as Irene licks the last drop of cum that fell into the table.

"That's it, baby," Irene says. "You have been a good boy, but you already gave me all I wanted. After you feed me that cum in my pussy, you are no longer useful to me," she finishes, giving you one last kiss that sucks your soul out of you until you fall completely unconscious.

You wake up the next day still completely naked. But this time, it's not Irene that is there, but a bunch of cops, who give you some clothes as they take you out off her dungeon. It's all over the news now that the men kidnapper has been arrested.

As the cops take you to jail for an inquiry, you briefly cross paths with Irene, her now handcuffed as she's taken to her cell. They briefly ask you. "Is this the woman that kidnapped you?" "Yes," you answer, taking your revenge on Irene for her not finding you useful anymore, although deep in your heart you still have feelings for her, and just seeing her ethereal beauty in front of you gets you hard again.

"Ok, you can go home now," the cop instructs you, and you do just that. You check the news. Irene is all over it, but you're so bad at it that you start touching yourself and jerking your cock off to her pictures and videos on the TV and other sites, searching for every story about the kidnapper just to see her one more time.

The next morning arrives, and you come back to the jail, but as you get there, nobody receives you. The room is quite dark, and you can feel Irene's devilish energy all over the building. No one is around, making you quite scared. You go towards the cells with the prisoners, finding the guards unconscious on the floor, their pants unzipped, as you get closer to an open cell, the silhouette of a small, seductive woman appears in your sight as she takes her jacket off and gets herself naked in front of you.

"Did you miss me?"

[natsnerd]

Answer your fucking phone.

Warnings: G!p Nat, Mentions of Husband, cheating(On husband) Billionaire nat, Mean nat, mentions of spanking, a little stalkish.

Word count: 806

________

Your words is what she liked “Your terms” is what made her smirk, she loved that you knew immediately she would be in control, it put a thrill through her

Natasha put her phone down so she could think about terms, she wasn't going to be soft on you, that would allow you to be a brat and her husband is enough of one for her, she wanted an obedient girl who she could dot on.

After a few minutes of thinking she sent you a list.

The list

I'll give you a 10,000 dollar monthly allowance, if you don't spend all that in one month, I'll give you a spank for every thousand you didn't spend, if you don't spend it, it will be added onto your next monthly payment.

 if your going to beg me for something, call me mommy whilst begging, for example "Please mommy, I want this dress"

you'll get a copy of my black card

you will not flirt or sleep with anyone. as long as your spending MY money you belong to me

I'm going to pay your tuition. end of discussion 

you must send me a picture of every thing you use for school, if I find them acceptable, you can keep them but if they're cheap? I'm buying you better ones.

 no touching yourself without mommy's permission, when I come see you - that is if your comfortable meeting face to face, I want you to wear a dress

 Pick a safe word baby, I want you to be comfortable. 

 If you're comfortable I want to see your writing.

Tell me your kinks, I want to see if you're my good little girl.

I'll add more if I think of more

She smirked and hit send, a satisfied smile crossing her lips as she packed her things back into her purse, she had enough of work and just wanted to go home and take a break.

Her phone did not ping with a notification which annoyed her greatly but she decided to ignore it, she fixed her suit and left her office, walking down to the garage where her Lamborghini sat, enjoying the dark against its skin, the blood red colour matching Natasha's aesthetic perfectly 

________

By the time Natasha got home, the sun was starting to set, she parked her car and scanned her security card on the apartment complex entrance before getting into the elevator, the drive here was over an hour and a half so she hadn't had time to check her phone yet, she digs her hand into her pocket to pull out her phone and checks if you've massaged her, a frustrated groan leaves her lips when you haven't, she checks and you haven't even read her message.

One thing Natasha could not stand was being ignored, she understood you were in college but you didn't even have time to reply to her message? Enough was enough. She decided to text you again

“Don't be a brat. I hate brats. Reply to my message now.” Her tone was stern and strict, she wanted you to know she wasn't playing around, she wanted you. She would get you even if it meant driving her ass to your school and spanking you until you understood that.

She unlocked the door to her penthouse and walked in, shrugging her jacket off

“Hello, Mrs Romanoff!” The maid says cheerfully as she pours Natasha a glass of vodka.

“Shut up, whore, I know you flirt with my husband, fuck him if you want, his small cock means absolutely nothing to me” She takes the vodka and walks off, not even noticing the maids face pale as she stuttered out apologises.

She drank her vodka as she checked her phone, you still havent fucking replied. 

She was starting to get pissed off, she slammed her glass down on the bedside table and ripped off her tie, rolling her sleeves up and walking back out the penthouse.

She was going to find your school. Your ass would be aching by the time she was done with you.

She checked your social media as she got in the driver's seat, she checked your friends and then your families until she found your college dorm address,

It only took her 15 minutes to get to your dorm, she was very happy it wasn't far, the closer you were to her personal home the more she could see you without her husband thinking she was cheating, she didn't care if he found out but she could not be bothered to go through the whole divorce process.

She checked what dorm your room was and began walking there, ready to spank your ass till her handprint was engraved.

She checked each dorm number before finding yours, a grin coming onto her face as she banged on your door.

[moonchild9350]

Beyond the Stars

summary: hyunjin: your protector, your celestial spirit. Hyunjin: your peace and serenity in this journey called life.

pairing: celestial spirit hyunjin x fab!reader

genre: zodiac/celestial au, fantasy au, fluff, smut-18+MDNI

wc: 19.6k

warnings: clit play, unprotected sex (don’t), creampie, masturbation, painting in the nude, nightmares, magic, other things that i do not want to spoil as it's essential for the plot

notes: this is my longest fic yet omg. i've poured my heart out into this over the last few weeks and i hope you enjoy it as much as i did writing it. i'd love to hear your feedback-don't be shy! happy reading :)

please do not copy, translate, modify, use, or repost my work elsewhere without my permission. ©️moonchild9350 (2025)

general masterlist

Ever since you were little you were tormented by your dreams, the intricacies and complexity of the darkness that plague the back of your mind, often leaving you to wake in a fright with tears streaming down your face. You’d clutch your stuffed owl close to your body for comfort and seek out your mother down the hall who was most likely sitting by the fire, chanting soft spells over her work.

You’d sit on the cushion she’d set out for you, the one with stars and the moon which you loved so much. One because it was beautiful and soft and you’d like to run your fingers through the fluff, the sensation akin to silk. But also you could watch and listen to your mother, your eyes widened in awe as her voice drifted dreamily throughout the room. It seemed almost magical as the air crackled with life and was almost tangible if you focused hard enough.

The fire in the hearth felt warm against your skin, the flames crackling and releasing sparks that floated into the air before disappearing. There was a soft glow in the otherwise dark house and tendrils of smoke from the incense that your mom burned every night rose to the ceiling, filing the air with the scent of jasmine. If you listened closely over the hum of your mother’s voice, you could hear the wind blowing against the wood of the house, blending in with the words that floated through the air.

You loved these moments as you felt safe in your mother’s presence, your nightmares briefly forgotten, that is until she notices you clutching your owl.

“More bad dreams my sweet?” She asks with a knowing glance, brushing off her nightgown and getting up to walk over to a shelf filled with books and trinkets.

“Yes mother.” Your voice softly rang out laced with sorrow and fear.

Your mother searched the shelves as she mumbles, speaking unintelligible words as she moves along. Her fingers glide softly over the textured wood as if they were dancing, the pad of one finger touching the blue book followed by the purple and onto the next. It continues until they pause at a particular box and she smiles as she takes the item in her hand.

It is an ornate box, decorated with veins that wrap around the corners sharply as if it is like a lock. Your mother strokes the lid as she gazes fondly at it. You watch as she walks over to you, extending the box out to you.

“This will help. It will offer protection whenever you sleep my sweet.”

She runs the palm of her hand over the top before prying open the lid and pulls out a beautiful necklace. The chain was littered with stones of aquamarine, amethyst, and black tourmaline that dazzled in the light from the fire in the hearth. She places the necklace around your neck and fastens the clasp, the metal and stones cold on your warm skin.

“This spirit will protect you as long as you wear it. Respect the power within and it will serve you well.”

You cocked your head at her words. “Spirit? But mother how is that possible?”

“We do not question the spirits, but accept their power and assistance in our daily lives. They can be great friends for us in this life. You’ll take care of it right my sweet?”

“Yes mother,” you murmured and touched the stones, enjoying how they felt rough against the pads of your fingers.

You thought you could feel the stones vibrate as if it were alive, asserting its presence now that it had a new owner. Grabbing your owl, you padded back to bed and slid under the covers. You thought sleep would not find you, but instead your eyes grew heavy and you slipped away in record time.

Since you were gifted the necklace, you were graced with peaceful dreams. Ones filled with fields of flowers and fairies and tea parties with your friends. As you grew, the dreams transitioned from ones of childhood to ones that are more fitting for the adult you now were.

You kept your promise to your mother and wore your necklace at all times and respected the power that resided within. You always felt like the spirit that was inside the stones was watching you, walking with you through life, their presence very much tangible through the necklace.

One day you questioned your mom about it, whether it’s normal to feel as if someone is watching you. She merely nodded and said it was the spirit merely there to protect you.

“One day you will be able to summon it.” She says this with a nonchalant face as she continues to peel potatoes for dinner. You found this precarious and you were a little confused as to how you would summon the spirt.

“Summon it? How?”

“Don’t worry my sweet, you will know when the time comes. The ways will make themself known at the appropriate time.”

You wondered what her words meant and how you would know what to do to summon your spirit; however, you trusted her words and let it go. You’d just have to wait until that time comes and meet the spirit who has been keeping you safe all of these years.

“What about this one Mrs. Lee?”

You looked at the old lady standing next to you who was eyeing one of the books you handed to her. She was reading the cover, thumbing through the pages, humming every couple of seconds or so as she considered if she wanted to buy the book or not. You knew to be patient as she was a regular customer at the bookshop, coming by often to see if you had any new books to share.

Lilly, your coworker and best friend passed by with a pile of books. She gave you a knowing look-one that screams ‘I’m sorry but you’re the best to handle this- and continued on her way, the skirt of her maxi dress brushing against the shelves of the shop.

“Well, I might as well get this one. It seems interesting.”

You hummed in agreement. “It is a very good choice. I think you’ll enjoy it very much Mrs. Lee. Shall I check you out?”

You walked behind the counter to ring up the book, adding the discount that you only do just for her. She hands you a couple of rod straight ten dollar bills and you take it with a smile. As you bag her book carefully, taking care not to dent the spine, she places a wrinkly hand on yours, stopping you in your tracks.

Her palm was clammy and you could somehow feel every wrinkle. The bright red nail polish she insisted on always wearing was neatly done, staring up at you with its glossy finish. Mrs. Lee was gazing at your necklace, her eyes intent on the crystals as they shine even though the lighting in the shop is dull.

“Mrs. Lee?” you question as you attempt to gently pull your hand away from hers but her grip only tightened as time went on.

You become uneasy as she continues to stare at your chest. You’re about to speak again but are stopped short as Mrs. Lee grasps your hand tighter and says, “He will appear soon.”

“What? Who?”

You’re not sure who the old lady is referring to and your confusion must have shown as Mrs. Lee shakes her head and let’s go of your arm. You immediately grasp the area she held onto and rubbed the skin, noticing how it was slightly turning red.

“Sorry dear, must have had one of my moments. Thank you so much for your help today.” She grabs the bag that’s on the counter and shuffles out of the shop, the door closing with finality.

You stare after her confused, frozen in place, watching as her tiny hunched over frame disappeared around the corner. You thumbed at your necklace and brushed a finger over it, feeling the slight vibration that has become a comfort to you over these years.

Pondering her words, you become even more confused. What did she mean he would appear soon? Was she talking about the spirit that resides in your necklace? But how did she even know that’s what your necklace is? She scared you for a moment and you’re not sure if she was really all there. Can you trust the words of an elderly lady?

“Y/n? You okay?”

You startled as Lilly placed a hand on your shoulder and looked at you with concern. You cleared your throat and dropped the hand that was clutching your necklace.

“Yeah I’m fine.” You gazed out of the shop again and noticed how dark it was getting even though it was still daylight.

A storm was coming which made you nervous, the turbulent atmosphere never agreeing well with your body. Twiddling your thumbs, you nervously looked around noticing the shop was empty. Maybe you’d be able to leave early and get home before it became worse out, so you could be in the safety of your home.

Lilly seemed to sense your unease. “You can go home if you want. Doubt we’ll have many people once it starts raining.”

“Are you sure?” You felt guilty for leaving her here alone just because of your foolishness.

“Of course. I understand how you feel when the weather gets like this. Get home and honker down.”

Nodding you said thank you, grateful for an understanding coworker and friend. Seconds later you were on the sidewalk, hurrying along toward your apartment, the dread you were feeling growing ever larger within. The wind had picked up some, so much so it wrapped around you, blowing your skirt around your ankles and your hair, in which you constantly were having to bat away from your face.

Your necklace vibrated urgently against your chest as if it were saying to hurry and get to safety. You were a block from home when the heavens opened and rain beat down on your body, soaking you immediately. Silently you cursed, disappointed that you wouldn’t be able to complete your ritual before the storm.

Your mother taught you at a young age that storms were not your friend and that portals to the spirit world were open on such occasions, allowing bad spirits to enter into the world. They flocked to women like you and your mother, latching on and tormenting you. In order to protect yourself and the household, she taught you a series of spells to cast, blanketing a barrier around the space and keeping the violent spirits away.

At first you didn’t believe her words, thinking that she was making up stories to frighten you; but you quickly changed your tune when one of those said spirits showed up in your room during a storm scaring you to the point that you had to huddle in the corner of your bedroom. You stayed there until your mother came home who seemed frazzled as she took in the spirit hovering over you. After that moment, you never doubted anything she told you again, even if it seemed extreme.

You arrived closer to your home as the rain picked up, fat drops hitting the pavement with ferocity. Once inside, you made sure every door and window was locked, shivering as you felt the forces outside try to force themselves within your sanctuary. You did not want to be tormented tonight in your dreams.

Since you didn’t make it home before the storm, you’d just have to make do with the locks around your place and the protection of your spirit that resides around your neck.

Once you were satisfied, you decided to take a warm shower to wash the day away. As the water cascaded down your body, your mind wondered to Mrs. Lee and how she warned you that someone would appear soon. It seemed an odd thing to say, especially out of the blue like that.

You quickly finished your shower and dressed in warm clothes before sliding into bed. Your blankets were warm and heavy, cradling your body just the way you liked. The rain pattered against the windows and lightening lit up your little room, casting shadows and tricking your mind into thinking something was lurking, ready to reach out and grab you. However, you shut your eyes tight and willed sleep to come.

The rain was soothing and you were warm and cozy, briefly forgetting about your predicament you were in. Slowly you slipped into unconsciousness, your brain entering that phase of sleep where your dreams dance around your mind. You come across a hall with doors each one shut tight giving you an ominous feeling. Something didn’t seem right as it was dark in the hallway with only little slithers of light peaking through the cracks.

Picking the first door to your right, you find yourself in an empty, dark room. Whether you were inside or out you couldn’t tell, as it was pitch black in every direction you looked. There wasn’t anything there, just emptiness as far as the eyes could see. Despite the still air, you felt a shiver run down your spine, the feeling familiar to how you felt as a child.

“Hello?” You quietly called out, searching for anyone in this black abyss.

Your words echoed and nobody made themselves known, that is until you saw a pair of red eyes in the distance. Large, beady eyes that stared at you hungrily, as if it were to devour you whole.

You attempted to run away but your feet were stuck to the ground, your body stopping short each time you moved. Looking up you saw a long, sharp claw reach for you slowly as if ready to strike. Gasping, you let out a little shriek and attempted to run again but let out a wail instead when you still couldn’t move.

Again and again, you twisted your body this way and that as the claw approached until it stretched out as if to grasp you and… — — Hyunjin found himself sitting in a chair, facing a bed that had a girl in it. He blinked his eyes a few times to focus better and realized it was you. The girl that he always saw through the lens in his home.

You appeared as you did when he first met you, small and scared of the unknown, of the place you ventured to every night. The only difference was now you were older, beautiful, like an angel yourself put on this place of purgatory called earth.

He pushed off from the chair he was sitting in and walked the short distance to where you lay, frowning as he watched you toss and turn, sweat beading on your brow and a frown on your face as you battled whatever was plaguing your psyche.

He reached down to push a strand of hair from your face, marveling at finally being able to feel the soft locks that he’s always admired within his fingers. His eyes noticed a tear forming in your eye that slowly traced a path down your cheek; that is until he reached out to gently wipe the tear away. He stared down at the pool of liquid on the pad of his finger, completely in awe of how wet it felt. Curious, he stuck the droplet on his tongue and grimaced at its salty taste.

Hyunjin wonders how he was able to get out of the spirit realm and into yours. The last thing he remembered he was fixing a flower arrangement in his kitchen, occasionally looking into the sphere that he uses to keep track of you. A friend of his was on the phone, yapping away about the new rules that were put in place.

He had just finished cutting the thorns off the roses when he appeared suddenly in your room, hands frozen mid-motion as if he were still pruning the flowers. Hyunjin glances outside as a rumble of thunder shook the house, your plates rattling in the cabinets. He glances back at you as you were still tossing and turning, trapped in your nightmare. He realizes why he was summoned, as if it were his job to protect you and protect you he must.

Taking a deep breath, Hyunjin placed a warm hand in the center of your chest over where his home the necklace lay. He felt a tingle run through his body, warm and slightly electric, a feeling he’s always liked. It traveled down into his arm, causing the appendage to take on a blue glow. The aura settled into your chest, glowing briefly before snuffing out, taking root deep within you.

Satisfied, Hyunjin withdrew his hand and stepped back, watching as your unsettled movements slowly ceased and your face smoothed out. Smiling, he felt a calm wash over him as you settled into your blankets, letting out a soft sigh that sounded like the sweetest chime to his ears. — — You thought you were a goner and about to be consumed by the creature. You closed your eyes and let out a yelp ready for the scratch of claws against your skin , the pain that would occur as they sunk into the muscle, and the wet sensation of blood dripping from your face.

Instead, you felt a warm sensation fill the space, its tendrils slowly creeping from the corners and spreading towards where you were standing. The darkness in the room began to fade away and a bright light replaced it instead.

You opened your eyes just to squint against the sudden burst of light. The creature was gone and instead replaced with a bunch of butterflies that flew around your head, emitting a soft fragrance that filled your nostrils and calmed you down.

Now that the danger was past, you relaxed into a deep sleep, wrapped up in the pleasant dream that now danced across your mind.

Tap tap tap

You scrunch your nose at the annoying sound that’s disturbing you from your slumber. Trying not to focus on the noise, you attempt to fall back asleep thinking it will go away. However, not even a minute later the sound comes again.

Tap tap tap

Irritated you open your eyes and sit up, blinking against the bright sunlight that shines through your windows. The storm has passed and a beautiful spring day has replaced the dreary weather that occurred not only hours before.

Tap tap tap

There’s the noise again and turning your head toward your door, you freeze at the realization it’s coming from your kitchen. Frozen beneath your sheets, you remember that you live alone and there should definitely not be any noises coming from your kitchen. Your mind immediately goes to the worse case scenario: maybe there’s an intruder and you’re about to be kidnapped or robbed or even worse murdered.

Carefully, you swing out of bed, cursing as the floor creaks, loudly at that, with the first step. You grab the bat you keep by your bed and creep toward the kitchen, ready to attack the intruder.

As you approach the room, the sound gets louder and more incessant and there’s a deep voice murmuring something you can’t hear. You take a deep breath and prepare to attack.

You got this.

“Who are you?!” You shout at the man standing by your stove who has since frozen in place with a spatula in hand.

“Y/n! Wait! It’s okay!” The man pleads holding up the spatula as if that will protect him against your weapon of choice. He stared at you, his eyes wide and lips slightly parted.

“How do you know my name?” You were starting to freak out now learning that the intruder knew your name. Maybe you should have phoned the police before coming in to confront the intruder.

“I’m Hyunjin, your celestial spirit! I resided in your necklace.”

You lower the bat but only so, still weary of the stranger. Your celestial spirit? Reaching up to your chest, you grabbed ahold of the crystals in your necklace, feeling how cold and still they were in your grasp. That seemed odd to you as the necklace is always vibrating with positive energy.

This man says he’s your celestial spirit…but that would mean he is the spirit that resides in your necklace (which he mentioned), but that seems crazy. But then you remember what your mother told you when you were little, that a spirit protects you at all times and then you remembered Mrs. Lee’s warning.

Maybe this man called Hyunjin is telling the truth.

You take a moment to look him over as he returned a wary look, nervous that you would attack him with that bat. You won’t lie, the man in front of you was a sight for sore eyes. Hyunjin was tall and handsome, that much was clear. He was lanky but yet toned, which somehow complimented his look even more.

He was wearing a baby blue shirt with white pants and was decked out in jewels, his fingers covered in rings that seemed to pulse with energy. His black hair was long and slightly curly, the strands framing his face perfectly. It seemed so soft and radiant and you wanted to reach out and touch it, run your fingers through the silky strands.

Hyunjin’s face seemed to be one of a god: large, chocolate brown eyes peered at you and little moles littered the area under his bottom eyelid. His lips were slightly parted but seemed plush and velvety, that you wanted to reach out and touch them.

“Y/n?” Hyunjin murmured lowering his hand all the way down, “Are you okay? I scared you, didn’t I?”

Hyunjin’s voice was laced with concern and he slowly edged his way towards you as if to comfort you.

“I’m fine…just… confused is all.” You set down the bat and walked over to the coffee maker and began making your morning coffee as if the appearance of a strange man was just the normal for a sunny morning. “So if you’re my celestial spirit, why are you out here and not in the necklace?”

“I’m not sure…” Hyunjin said, his voice fading with the last word, “I think you summoned me.”

“Summoned you? How do you figure? I don’t know how to do that.”

Hyunjin merely shrugged and grabbed some plates as if he lived here and it was a normal occurrence and not strange that he just appeared one day.

“Not sure how it happened, but all I know is I was at home and then poof, I appeared here in your room while you were asleep.”

You watched as Hyunjin plated two pancakes for you, adding a dollop of whipped cream just like you liked and set it on the table where you usually sit. He grabbed his plate and sat down to dig in.

“You were having a nightmare, that much I know and I was able to calm you down and fix the dream you were having.”

Ah, so he’s the reason why that large creature went away and was replaced with pleasant things. You grabbed your mug of coffee and sat down next to the newcomer and eyed the plate he made. The pancakes seemed edible enough and your stomach growled as if to say feed me, so you picked up your fork and took a bite.

You groaned as the fluffy pancake melted in your mouth, never having had anything as tasty as this since you were little. “This is so good!”

“Thank you,” Hyunjin murmured and blushed as he directed his gaze downward.

Giggling, you took another bite thinking it was cute how he became flustered. You glanced at the clock and noticed the time, that you’d have to leave for work soon. Taking the last bite of your pancakes, you stood up and brought your dishes to the sink, setting them down gently.

“I have work today…I guess you can stay here until I get back?”

“Oh…” Hyunjin looked down at his empty plate, his face falling at the announcement. He’d hope he’d be able to spend more time with you, the girl he was destined to protect.

“I’m sorry,” you murmured, feeling awkward at how crestfallen Hyunjin seemed.

Deciding to let him deal with the fact he’d be alone for a few hours, you walked to your bedroom and began getting ready, falling into your usual routine. As you turned up the blanket, you noticed Hyunjin standing in the corner watching your every move. When you fluffed the pillows, you noticed he was trying to inch his way towards you, a look of uncertainty on his face.

As you put your makeup on, he was right there with you, watching as you applied mascara, blush, and then lipstick. He attempted to follow you to the closet where you changed, but you stopped him at the door, telling him to wait. His eyes were large and he seemed so innocent, waiting for you to direct him on what to do next. Your heart skipped a beat at the prospect and you wanted to ruffle his hair and coo at him, treat him like the delicate angel he seemed to be.

Hyunjin nodded at your request and stood at the door, watching as you closed it in his face. You chose a floral dress for today, picking one that hugged your bodice, but flowed like water down your thighs. Choosing a pair of sandals, you then walked out of the closet straight into Hyunjin.

“Oh my god y/n! Sorry! Are you okay?” Hyunjin panicked, reaching out to steady you on your feet.

You shivered at his touch, trying not to notice how his large hands gripped your shoulders and the warmth of his hands seeped into your skin as if it were searing you.

“It’s okay,” you mumbled, disentangling yourself from his grasp.

You made your way to the kitchen, grabbing your bag in the process. “I’ll be back around five. Make yourself at home okay?”

Hyunjin nodded and smiled, “Okay y/n, have a good day.”

“Thanks,” you said and turned to leave, eyeing Hyunjin as he watched you leave.

The whole commute to work your mind was on Hyunjin and how he appeared out of nowhere. How he said he was your celestial spirit, the one who has been with you since you were a child. You couldn’t believe he was there, summoned apparently by you, even though you have no clue how that was done.

The bookshop appeared in the distance and you put the weird occurrence aside, ready for another day surrounded by your favorite items, books.

“Hi Y/n!” Lilly shouted from the back of the shop as you entered. “Look what came in today, that series you love. Are you going to buy a copy?”

“Of course! I’ve been waiting for it since forever,” you chuckled.

You set your bag down and clocked in as Lilly set aside one of the books for you.

“Well, here’s to another day…” Lilly moaned, glancing at the clock as the store was officially opened.

You merely nodded and grabbed a cart filled with books, leaving to shelve them back to where they needed to be. It was easy to fall back into routine, getting lost within the shelves full of books, the smell of fresh paper wafting through your nostrils.

The spine of a book always made you feel a tingle and you thought you could hear a whisper of the words within, beckoning you to open its pages and discover the secrets it has to offer. Books were your comfort as they’d never wound you or betray your trust like humans can.

As you neared the bottom of the pile, Hyunjin crossed your mind. Was he okay by himself? Would he still be there by the time you clocked out from work? The necklace perched on your chest remained silent, as it hadn’t vibrated since Hyunjin appeared, not that you expected it to.

Your situation was peculiar and you were eager to see how it played out.

You willed your shift to fly by quickly and fly by it did. As you tidied up the shop as it got closer to closing, you listened to Lilly chatter about some date she was going on later tonight and how she hopes they weren’t a prick like the last one.

You agreed with her statement, wished her luck, and grabbing your bag, you hurried out of the shop. One foot in front of the other, you weaved your way through the throngs of people on their way home as well. Your heart quickened the closer you got to home as you were eager to see Hyunjin.

Your fingers trembled as you inserted your key into the lock and twisted the doorknob, slamming the door against the wall as you burst into your apartment.

“Hyunjin!” You shouted, holding your breath for a response.

Dropping your keys into the bin by the door, you hurried into the kitchen looking for your spirit.

“Hyunjin-“ you were about to scream his name again when he suddenly appeared in the doorway to your bedroom.

You let out the breath you were holding and smiled. “Hi, did you do okay by yourself?”

Hyunjin smiled at you and came closer to where you were standing. “Eh, I was bored without you, but I managed.”

“I’m sorry,” you murmured, suddenly feeling horrible about leaving him behind.

“It’s okay Y/n, you have to work. Maybe on your day off though, we can pick some things up that I can keep myself busy with while you’re away?”

“Sure, we can go tomorrow since I’m off.”

“Perfect,” Hyunjin grinned. “Now come eat, I made your favorite.”

Hyunjin grasped your hand not allowing you to mull over what he just said. He led you to the kitchen where you sat down to eat, your mouth salivating at the spread in front of you. The first bite was heaven, the chicken melting on your tongue as the flavors mixed on your tastebuds.

Hyunjin watched as you ate, happy that you were enjoying your meal. He found himself staring at you more often, even though he’s only been here for less than 24 hours. Your eyes told a story, one that he was all too familiar with since he watched you grow up. You were delicate, precious, like a bunch of roses.

You looked up and caught him staring, your eyes turning to curiosity. “Everything okay?”

“What?” Hyunjin was startled from his reverie, “Oh, yeah.”

You hummed in acknowledgement and continued to eat. Once you were both finished with your meals, Hyunjin gathered the dishes and placed them in the sink. The sun was setting and nighttime slowly seeped into your home, casting a honey glow into the space.

“I’m going to hop into the shower,” you said, already making your way to the bathroom.

Hyunjin merely hummed in acknowledgment and you retreated to your room, closing the door softly. The sound of water hitting the tub filled the room, steam filling up the small space within minutes. Under the stream, you contemplated your outing tomorrow with Hyunjin, excitement brewing inside at the prospect of going out with such a handsome man.

You weren’t going to deny it, Hyunjin is gorgeous, so much so he could be a model. You couldn’t help your mind drifting to his hands, long and nimble, decked out in his rings that glinted in the sunlight, to his plush lips that you’re sure feel like cotton.

A warmth spreads through your lower region, one that you know is not from the water that pounds your skin. Slowly you drift your fingers over your body, shivering despite the heat of the room. You circle your nipples, brushing over them before giving them a pinch, gasping at the sensation that wrecks your frame.

Lower and lower your fingers travel until they hover over your pussy and you let out a low moan at how your clit pulses, begging to be touched. You wait a second more before applying pressure to the bud, giving slow swipes until your toes are curling and you’re panting, lost in the pleasure.

You imagine it’s Hyunjin’s fingers that are playing with your clit, that brush over your nipples gently until they are hardened nubs. That it’s him pressing wet kisses against your neck instead of the stream of water that rains from above.

The pleasure builds quickly to your surprise and you chase after it, reaching for that pinnacle of ecstasy. Your hand speeds up and your muscles tense before you let go in a cacophony of moans and sighs as your body contracts and your sight becomes fuzzy.

Hyunjin’s name falls from your lips, perfect and delicate, as if it were meant to be spoken by you and only you. Your breathing is heavy as you come down and you felt as if you are floating, the sound of the water seeming far away.

Once recovered, you finish up your shower, putting aside your thoughts as if they never crossed your mind as it definitely was not something you wanted to deal with. — — The next morning, you feel something poking you over and over. At first you think you’re dreaming, but deduce that’s not the case as your dream was pleasant, filled with sweet things. Groaning, you turn over to the other side, thinking the incessant poking would stop.

However, to your dismay, you feel the sharp poke once more, this time against your back. Annoyed, you sit up and blink, your vision coming into focus to Hyunjin sitting next to you, a wide grin on his pretty face.

“Morning Y/n! Don’t forget about our outing today.”

You rub your eyes and yawn as you sit up and slowly wake up. The outing, that’s right. “Of course, how could I forget.”

Hyunjin merely smiles and runs a hand through his hair, the scent of strawberries drifting to your nose. The scent reminded you of your shampoo that you love to use.

Curious, you looked at Hyunjin, “Did you use my shampoo?”

Hyunjin’s smile slowly fades and instead he looked down at his hands. “I uh- yeah I did. I’m sorry, I should have asked first, but I thought you wouldn’t mind.”

You chuckled at how nervous he seemed. Somehow it made him seem more innocent and cute, causing you to want to smoother him with hugs and kisses. “It’s okay, I don’t mind. When did you use it though?”

“Oh! I don’t need to sleep, so I showered while you were sleeping. After making sure you were okay of course, I can’t slack on the job.”

His words shocked you. He doesn’t need to sleep? That is news to you. Suddenly, you feel awkward at the fact this man has most likely been prowling around while you were asleep.

“So if you don’t have to sleep, what do you do then?” You asked genuinely curious.

“Well, after I make sure you’re okay, I usually sit and watch you sleep…wait, that makes me sound like a creep. I mean I take watch, technically I’m working while you sleep.”

“Working? What do you mean?” You asked with a frown.

“Yes, I’m a dream weaver. I’m a Pisces and we are notorious for taking up a career in this field. I watch over you while you sleep and make sure the nightmares don’t take over your psyche.”

You pondered his words briefly before remembering how your mother gave you the necklace, claiming the spirit within would protect your dreams. “So you really are a celestial spirit, my mother was right all along.”

You said the latter more for your benefit, but Hyunjin hummed in agreement. “I’m all yours.”

At the last phrase, you felt a tingle pass through your body that was not unpleasant but quite the opposite. Hearing Hyunjin say he’s all yours made your heart flutter and your cheeks to heat up like you were a school girl.

Hyunjin seemed to notice your change in demeanor because he giggled and reached over to brush a stray lock of hair away from your face. “Okay, now that’s out of the way, get up so we can go. I’m really looking forward to where you’re taking me!”

“Okay, okay, I’m getting up,” you chuckled as you pushed the blankets off of you.

Hyunjin scooted out of the way to allow you to get up and watched as you moved around the room, getting ready for the day. He felt like he was in a trance as he peered at you, his heart rate spiking as you dragged your shirt over your head, just to replace it with a burgundy top, pairing it with a black skirt.

He felt in awe as you styled your hair, the brush gliding through the strands gracefully and the locks landing perfectly against your back. He breathed in deeply after you sprayed your perfume, admiring the scent of blackberries that permeated the room.

“How do I look?” You asked as you turned around for him to see.

“Absolutely beautiful,” Hyunjin murmured as his cheeks heated up. You really were the most beautiful girl in the world and he was proud to be your spirit.

“Well let’s go,” you said as you grabbed your bag and walked to the door, leaving a bewildered Hyunjin sitting on your bed.

Once outside, you walked with purpose, navigating Hyunjin through the busy streets. You yapped the whole way to the store, explaining the different buildings, and how you’d visit from time to time when you were a child. You explained that you lived in the country isolated from people, but occasionally your mother would take you here when she had errands to run.

You explained days filled with singing and skipping, carrying bags of herbs that your mother used for god knows what and ice cream cones that she’d buy for you two. You’d sit on the wall by the park, licking up the sweet treat until it was gone and watch the sun begin to set.

Hyunjin listened intently, enjoying the tales of your childhood. Even though he technically went with you all those years to the city, he couldn’t see what you were doing as his sight was only available at night when you were asleep.

You didn’t stop yapping until you got to a large department store, the windows filled with mannequins with trendy clothes. “Let’s get you a few outfits,” you said, grabbing Hyunjin’s hand and pulling him into the store.

It’s been a while since you’ve been in here, preferring online shopping to the crowds and bothersome workers, asking if you needed help every two seconds. The music always irks you as it seems so artificial and the smells of consumerism give you a headache. However, you are willing to sacrifice braving this huge store for Hyunjin.

You beelined straight for the men’s section and began to browse the racks, pulling out articles of clothing and handing them to Hyunjin. He obediently accepted the items, his arms pilling higher with clothes. Once you were satisfied with what you picked out, you dragged him to the dressing room to try on the outfits.

Pushing Hyunjin into the tiny room, you pulled the curtains shut, chuckling at the uncertainty on Hyunjin’s face. There was a little chair across the way and you sat down to wait for him to come out with the first outfit.

Hyunjin tried on each piece of clothing, modeling for you as he came out, striking pose after pose. He really looked great in everything, so much so you couldn’t help but feel a little envious. After viewing each outfit, he’d give you a look, something akin to him knowing a secret that is too delicate for your ears. You felt dizzy and a little sweaty all of a sudden, the heat of the dressing room getting to you.

Standing up, you clapped your hands in delight as Hyunjin stepped out of the room, the clothes he tried on in hand. You both decided to buy all the outfits, as they all were perfect for your celestial friend. Hyunjin whined at you paying for everything, but you kept shushing him, telling him it was your treat. Eventually, he accepted your statement, begrudgingly grabbing the bags to carry them.

The next stop was at the craft store at Hyunjin’s request. You’d never seen anyone light up the way he did as he stopped foot over the threshold. You had to jog to keep up with him as he made his way towards the drawing and paint supplies.

He piled the cart high with various shades of paint, canvases, and paintbrushes, which you didn’t mind as it made him happy and if he was happy you were happy. You paid for all of the supplies as well and then both of you walked back home, your arms laden with heavy shopping bags.

Once back at your apartment, you plopped down on the couch, exhausted from your day out. You turned the tv on and picked a show, locking in immediately once you got comfortable.

Hyunjin set up shop next to you, too excited to get started sketching. He pulled out a sketch book and graphite pencils and as he began to draw, you couldn’t help but relax at the sound of the pencil on paper, the scratching soothing as the show played in the background.

You stole a glance at him and smiled, watching as he locked in, his tongue sticking between his plush lips and fingers wrapped tightly around the pencil. His hand glided over the page, his movements fluid instead of choppy as he created a scene in front of him.

What was just a few lines turned into a bunch of beautiful flowers, daises by the look of it. You watched as he shaded in the piece, focusing hard to ensure each stroke was perfect. Once he finished, Hyunjin set down the pencil and let out a satisfied sigh.

He glanced sideways at you and smirked, enjoying how your mouth was hanging open in awe. “Wanna see something really cool?”

You merely nodded, not able to find your voice in the moment. Hyunjin ghosted the palm of his hand over the page and then before you could blink, a bunch of daises were in his hands. You let out a shriek at the trick, glancing down at the now empty page.

“What the fuck just happened?” You shrieked, completely confused at the flowers in his hand.

Hyunjin chuckled, throwing his head back in glee at your confusion. “Another one of my quirks. I can animate and even make anything I create come to life. For you my lady,” he said as he handed you the flowers.

You took them from Hyunjin and brought them to your nose, inhaling the scent of the petals. A soft, earthy scent filled your nostrils and you were in awe at how it smelled just like a real flower. You gently touched the delicate petals, feeling the velvety texture beneath your fingertips.

These really were real flowers. “Wow, that is actually really cool,” you gushed. Hyunjin really could do it all.

Hyunjin blushed and tossed his hair. “Yeah, it’s a nice power to have.”

He went back to sketching, starting afresh to bring to life a new design. You fell into a trance watching him, feeling at ease as his hand continued to dance around the page.

You leaned over, careful not to crush the daises and tried to see what he was drawing but when you looked at the page, it was empty. However, you blinked and a shape appeared much to your chagrin.

He continued his task, humming out a song occasionally. Time passed and your eyes grew heavy as you felt content and safe with the man beside you. You must have completely dozed off because you felt a gentle hand on your shoulder and you were jolted awake, slightly startled.

“Can I take you to bed?”

“What?” You said, sitting up as you woke up a little more.

“Wait, that came out wrong. Not take you to bed but help you to…you know-“

Hyunjin’s words drifted off as he stuttered in embarrassment. The flustered look on his face made you laugh, his cute face becoming even cuter.

“I guess I should go to bed huh,” you replied and stood up, stretching your legs after sitting down for so long.

You placed the daises in a vase and filled it with water before padding to your bedroom. You quickly went through your night routine, more than ready to get in bed. However, when you came out of the bathroom, you stopped in your tracks as your heart skipped a beat. Hyunjin reclined against one of your pillows, his hoodie pulled over his head. At your entrance he broke out into a smile.

“Join me Y/n,” he said.

You hesitated for a moment, not sure if you really wanted to sit with him. Hyunjin noticed your hesitation and pouted, his lower quivering at your rejection of his proposal.

“Please? I’m just doing my job. Gotta keep you safe while you sleep. I’m the best watch dog.”

You chuckled at the latter as he was far from a watch dog but more of a harmless ferret. Deciding to appease him you slid under the covers, pulling the blankets up to your chin. Hyunjin smiled, satisfied that you accepted his request. He reached out and brushed his fingers through your hair, smiling as your eyes fluttered at his touch.

You gazed up at Hyunjin, your protector, your celestial spirit. Your heart raced, seeming to speed up so fast it would jump out of your chest. He matched your gaze and began to hum a song, the melody soft and sweet, soothing you to the point where you felt more relaxed than you’ve ever been.

Not even a minute passed and you were slipping into unconsciousness, Hyunjin’s song still floating throughout your tiny room and through your ears. Your eyelids fluttered as you thought you heard him mumble something, but you couldn’t focus, your body wanting to rest.

“That’s it, sleep deeply peach.” Hyunjin cards his fingers through your hair and tucks you in so you’re nice and warm.

Hyunjin feels a warmth in his chest, one of undying affection towards you. His heart races and he gasps silently as he rests his palm on his chest, feeling the rapid thump thump deep inside. You’re so beautiful to him, someone who he has had the pleasure of watching blossom into the wonderful person you are now.

He takes a deep breath and slowly lets it out before getting to work. Gently, he places his hand on your chest, feeling the flutter of your heart and watches the rise and fall as you breathe in and out softly.

“Let’s give you sweet dreams,” Hyunjin murmurs as he activates his power.

The familiar warmth spreads through his body and travels through his arm and then his hand, the glow lighting up the otherwise dark room. It doesn’t take long for the light to fade and right at the last second, Hyunjin makes a last minute decision and closes his eyes, willing himself to join you in your psyche.

He opens his eyes and blinks against the bright light, shading his eyes at the sun that sits high in the sky. Glancing around, he searches for you and smiles as he notices that you are on the far side of the field, your head tilted to the sky and your eyes closed. Hyunjin gazes longingly at you, taking in how the wind lightly tussles your hair, the strands floating through the air. Your dress billows outwards, revealing your slender legs.

You open your eyes and start to walk, trailing across the grass as if you’re floating. Before long you start to sing, a lovely melody that speaks of unrequited love. Hyunjin follows you, keeping a short distance between the two of you.

The grass is soft beneath his feet and warmth spreads through his toes. The air is crisp, filling his lungs deeply and clarifying his head. He reaches out a hand to you as if he wants to take you in his grasp, but you continue on, not even looking back at the visitor in your dream.

Once you approach the end of the field, Hyunjin decides it’s time to leave and so he does, opening his eyes suddenly to the darkness of your room. He glances down at you and smiles at how you sleep peacefully, your mouth slightly open as you breathe, your hair fanning out on your pillow and giving you an ethereal look.

“Continue dreaming,” Hyunjin whispers and settles deeper into bed, making sure to keep you close to his body.

A week has passed since Hyunjin has entered your life…well at least in human form. You both have fallen into a routine, one in which he does all the domestic chores while you’re at work. Your days off are spent roaming the city exploring, showing him all of your favorite spots, taking him to all of your favorite restaurants.

You feel great joy at watching his excitement as he tries new things, his eyes lighting up like a child’s on Christmas. He’s painted pictures, lots of them and now your walls are covered with them. There’s many scenes of landscapes and animals but many are of flowers, which are his favorite thing to paint.

The sun is high in the sky, its golden rays shining through your window, bathing the space with warm light. There’s soft music playing in the background, curtesy of Hyunjin. You’re finishing up your breakfast as Hyunjin sits on the floor, paintbrush in hand.

You watch as he moves about the canvas, painting delicate strokes, his eyes focused on the task at hand. He tucks a section of his lip between his teeth, pondering if the color selection is what he wants.

As he continues to paints, your eyes wander down his arms, taking in how they flex with each movement. The muscles bulge and you feel a flutter down below, which has you quickly looking away. Hyunjin seems to sense your unease as he looks up and smirks at you.

You seem like you’ve just seen a ghost or maybe you’re embarrassed as your cheeks are bright red and you’re fiddling with your fingers. If he focuses even more, he can make out your thighs clenching together which makes him silently gasp.

He sits back and stares, conflicted as to what he wants to say or do. The more he stares at you, the more flustered he gets and he twitches in his pants. He has a thought, one that’s fleeting but present. He wonders if you’ll humor him and allow him to fulfill a fantasy of his. Time passes as he ponders if he should ask you. Hyunjin swallows thickly and decides to go with it.

“Y/n?” He catches your eye at the mention of your name. “Can I paint you?”

You look at him in shock wondering where the question came from. He stares you down with a serious expression and you have no doubt he means it. Tossing back the remainder of the milk from your cereal you get up and walk to the sink.

Hyunjin’s eyes follow your every move, his lips parted and eyes sparkling as he awaits your answer. Your bowl makes a soft clink as it touches the bottom of the sink. Turning around you give Hyunjin your best smile, “Sure.”

Hyunjin smiles in turn and gets up. “Can I…”

He hesitates, nervous to ask you his next question. His mind immediately goes to the worse, thinking how you’ll say he’s a creep or a weirdo which is something he never wants to hear coming from your mouth…at least about him.

“What is it?” You’re standing in front of him now, staring up into his eyes. You look so innocent with big doe eyes and your lips, god he loves your lips. Hyunjin almost reaches out to touch them but stops himself.

“I was gonna ask if I can paint you…but um…you’d be nude…”

He bites his lip and rocks on his feet, looking everywhere but at you. That is until he feels your hand on his arm.

“Of course,” you simply say and smirk as you drop your hand.

“Okay…okay…yeah…um great. Um let’s go to the living room and uhh, get undressed,” his words trail off as he notices he’s too excited and you look amused, probably making fun of him in your head.

You saunter over to the living room and begin to pull your shirt over your head, tossing it away once it’s clear. You unhook your bra and toss that as well chuckling as you hear Hyunjin gasp behind you. You quickly remove your leggings pulling your panties with them.

Now you stand bare in front of your celestial spirit, your back to the man. You’ve always been confident in your body, falling in love at your plush curves and supple breasts. Standing here in the nude in front of Hyunjin doesn’t make you nervous, but instead sparks something inside you, almost akin to excitement.

Taking a breath you turn around to face him, smiling as he takes you in, his eyes wide. You’re sure he’s freaking out inside, as he hasn’t moved or said anything in the last few moments.

Hyunjin is speechless. Here you are standing in front of him, baring all for him to see. He’s in awe of your beauty, how perfect you are. He’s not sure how long he stares but you clear your throat and he snaps back to reality with a sheepish grin.

“Go ahead and lay down,” he instructs as he gathers some paints and brushes.

You obey and lay down, shivering slightly as the cold floor meets your back. You watch as Hyunjin scoots over to you, just to gaze at your body again. He inspects his canvas, the dips and curves. He maps out your body, taking in your lithe neck, a perfect spot to litter sweet kisses to, mark you as his. His eyes travel down to your breasts, licking his lips ever so slightly as he observes how your nipples pebble in the cold air, perfect for teasing until you’re writhing beneath him.

Down, down he looks until he reaches your core, that looks so soft and glistens as you’re steadily leaking with arousal, a sight that makes his breath hitch. He thinks he has it down and grabs a brush ready to create a masterpiece.

You watch as Hyunjin dips his brush in blue paint and brings it to your neck, placing the bristle on your skin and drags it around. You shiver at the feel of the cold substance and wiggle your fingers at the tingling sensation from his movements.

You try and lay still, but the bristle moves against your skin in a certain way that has you snorting. Hyunjin stops painting and merely looks at you with a shocked expression. You glance at him from the corner of your eye and hold your breath, wondering what he will say or do at your mishap.

However, his mouth only opens and then immediately closes as if he’s trying to say something and that spurs you on further until you burst out laughing. High and shrill, your laughter echos through the room and eventually mixes with Hyunjin’s whines.

Your side hurts and you clutch at your belly, your thoughts slowly transitioning from how ticklish it felt when he painted your skin to how you’re lying in the nude in the middle of your living room.

Tears fall down your face as you take deep breaths, trying to quell your laughing. Opening one eye, you see Hyunjin sitting there defeated with a pout. It is the most adorable sight you’ve ever seen and so you stop laughing and dry your face.

“Okay, okay, I’m sorry. I’m ready.” You say with an apologetic look.

Hyunjin just stares at you, considering your surrender as if he’s searching for a lie. After a while however, he must deem your apology acceptable and gets back to work, dipping his paintbrush once more into the blue paint and begins to work. You tense up at the bristles again, but this time you breathe through it, determined not to mess up Hyunjin’s concentration.

What you were doing worked and after a while you find the brush strokes soothing as Hyunjin drags his wrist around your skin. You find yourself staring at his face, admiring his facial structure, feeling a little envious at how perfect it is. You get lost in his eyes as always, staring at how the chocolate brown seems to sparkle, how it mingles with streaks of black all meeting at the pupil, which is locked in, focused on your body.

Dragging your gaze down, you come to his lips, an asset you have always been in love with. They’re plush and seem soft like velvet, like little pillows that you’d love nothing more than to touch, feel the texture beneath your skin. Your eyes roam once more and catch the little moles that litter his face, small little black dots that accentuate his look so much so you want to place your lips upon them and kiss it, listen to how he’d probably tense up under your touch, whispering for more.

Hyunjin feels your heated gaze on him and his movements falter, but only for a moment. He clears his throat and murmurs, “What are you looking at?”

You look into his eyes again and heat rushes to your face after being caught in your folly. “Nothing…Just you,” you say after an afterthought.

“Yeah? What about me?” His voice is husky and laced with something you can’t place, almost like a mixture of curiosity and lust.

‘Oh, so it’s like that’, you think and the prospect excites you more than it probably should. “Just at how beautiful your eyes are, how beautiful you are. It’s not fair.”

Hyunjin chuckles and dips his brush into the water, cleaning off the current color on the bristles. “You alright? Getting tired?” He teases as he open another tube of paint, squeezing a dollop onto his pallet before dipping the brush into the vibrant color.

You are about to respond when the brush lands directly on your nipple, effectively shutting you up as he paints around your areola. Shivers run down your spine and your body tenses at the sensation, one that you may be a little more fond of than you’d care to admit. Hyunjin doesn’t notice your change in demeanor and if he does, he says nothing but continues to paint, focused on the masterpiece he’s creating.

He’s delicate around your breasts, taking care to paint every inch, filling it with details only he can see. Your nipples have pebbled from the stimulation and Hyunjin has to work hard to control himself not to tease you, touch you, drag out the pleasure he knows you’re feeling from his administrations.

A swipe across the swell of flesh and your breath hitches, your chest rising and falling rapidly as your eyes flutter closed before opening again. Another swipe and your thighs clench as you lick your lips. Hyunjin focuses on his painting, but also your body, how you react so well for him, laying still so he can make you into a masterpiece.

He finishes the area around your chest and moves down to your stomach, covering every inch he can. Delicate flowers appear by your bellybutton, the petals seeming to dance in the wind, an effect only Hyunjin can create. He adds hundreds of little blades of grass, protecting the flowers he loves so much, littering your pelvis just so.

You’re not sure how much time has passed with you lying on your back as Hyunjin paints. The silence drones on, accented by your occasional gasp and the swish of water as Hyunjin wets his brush. Your toes curl the lower he goes, warmth pooling in your gut as he brushes over your pubic mound, painting whatever he deems fit for his masterpiece.

As you lay there, you become dizzy from all of the touching and teasing that occurs. The ceiling spins and your arousal drips, coating your folds to the point that Hyunjin most definitely will notice. He pauses momentarily, eyeing your pussy and the slick that coats it, in awe at how wet you are just from him touching you with a paintbrush.

He won’t lie, his cock is hard in the confines of his pants and he wishes he could free it, soothe the ache that has been steadily building. He would love to be between your legs, burying his length in your heat, relieving himself and you as well, taking you to heights only he can bring you.

However, he snaps out of his reverie to continue his work, moving onto your thighs. He’s almost done, his piece near completion and he couldn’t be more than happy. You look stunning, even more so with what he’s created, making you a living piece of art.

You close your eyes and lose yourself in his work, as he paints large strokes across your thighs, humming as he does so. It feels warm, in contrast to the rest of your body which feels cold at this point, but you don’t mind as it doesn’t take long for your body to heat again from Hyunjin’s gentle touches.

You feel as he gets closer to your feet and he seems to be working faster as he reaches the finish line. You wonder what he has created on your body, what he has turned you into. Your eyes flutter once more as you feel his touch, the warmth of his hand briefly touching your leg. You want him to touch you more, feel you, tease you…

“Done. I’m done.”

Your eyes snap open and you look at Hyunjin who is sitting on his haunches, breathing deeply as he sets his paintbrush down. His eyes roam your body, starting at your face and he slowly moves down. His gaze is intense, eyes lingering on your breasts, his tongue briefly darting out to lick his lips. You watch as he moves onto your belly and then to your core, his breath catching as he eyes it.

You don’t dare to move as he looks at your legs, his mouth turning up into a smile as he nods in satisfaction, proud of his work.

“Lay there while I clean up my paints okay? It needs to finish drying and then I’ll help you to the mirror so you can look.”

You nod in agreement and he begins to gather the supplies to bring them to the kitchen. The water splashes in the sink as he washes the brushes and a song rings out as he begins to sing. His voice is ethereal and you lay still listening as the paint on your body dries.

A few minutes later Hyunjin is standing next to you looking down. He smiles and offers his hand, “ready peach?”

You nod and take his hand, making sure you are careful not to disturb his painting as you stand on your feet. It takes a moment for you to get your bearings after lying still for so long and your ears ring as the blood rushes throughout your body. After a minute, Hyunjin guides you to your room and to your full length mirror.

“Close your eyes,” he murmurs before you arrive, his eyebrow arching as he waits for you to comply.

Your eyes close and you take a deep breath just to let it out. Hyunjin squeezes your hand and then positions you how he wants you. You can feel the heat of his body behind you and his breath against your ear.

“Open your eyes.”

Light floods your vision as you open your eyes and it takes a second for your sight to adjust. However, once it does, you look straight in the mirror and gasp at your reflection. Your body is covered from neck to toes, decked out in delicate designs that have been carefully curated by Hyunjin.

There’s an expanse of black and blue that covers your neck to your breasts, mimicking the night sky that you love so much. The planets accent the area, the rich reds of Mars next to the bright yellow of Venus. The rings of Saturn circle delicately around your left breast, the planet itself taking over the expanse of your areola and nipple.

Your eyes continue down to your belly that gives way to a field filled with flowers, every type present in vibrant colors of spring. Little fireflies litter the area above the flowers, their colors seeming to glow in contrast to your body. Your pelvis and legs give way to the area below the ground leading to the core of the earth.

Violent swirls of orange, red, and yellows mix haphazardly, forming the core of the planet. Your whole body is a contrast between gentle and turbulent, depicting the story of the universe.

“It’s stunning,” you murmur as you continue to stare in the mirror. Hyunjin smiles and murmurs a thank you.

“There’s more,” he says behind you and you cock your head in curiosity.

Hyunjin murmurs something under his breath and gently touches your shoulder, a zap of energy traveling from his fingertips into your body. Before your eyes, his creations begin to move, the story coming to life.

The planets rotate as they do in space and the stars twinkle. The area where the sun is seems to warm your chest just like the sun warms your body everyday. The flowers sway as if there’s a gentle wind and the fireflies fly to and fro. The lava swirls and splashes against the edges of your legs, the feeling warm as it should be.

Your whole body has become animated.

“Holy shit,” you murmur in awe. You are literally a living masterpiece.

“My muse. I’m so happy you let me do this,” Hyunjin says, voiced laced with gratitude.

You are perfect and he’s painted how he sees you, the universe, his universe. His hands lightly grip your arms and slowly slides down until he reaches your waist. His palms find the skin there and he steps closer, his head lowering until his lips are able to graze the flesh of your neck.

You both stand there quietly and you feel his lips brush against you. Goosebumps rise on your arms and you let out a low moan, closing your eyes and surrendering to the man behind you. Slowly, gently, his lips press against you, again and again until he reaches that spot behind your ear. His tongue darts out just to lick a stripe against the flesh followed by a wet kiss.

Hyunjin’s hands ghost across your belly, down to your core, the pad of his finger pressing against your clit causing you to arch into his chest and rest your head against his shoulder. He circles the bud, savoring how wet you are, how you open yourself up to him. You’re pulled flush against him, so much so you can feel his length against you.

Your breathing increases as he continues to play with your clit, slowly at first and then speeding up, alternating speeds to keep you on your toes. It doesn’t take long until you’ve reached the precipice, the climax that you’ve been craving for the last few hours after being edged over and over. However, right as you’re about to give in and tip over the edge, Hyunjin removes his fingers and you groan, disappointed at your fading orgasm.

He chuckles and brings his fingers to your lips, pushing them into your mouth prompting you to suck. Your tongue swirls over the digits, allowing you to taste yourself, the tangy but sweet taste causing your eyes to roll to the back of your head.

“Sweet peach, can I have you?” Hyunjin says, his voice deep and husky in your ear.

“Yes, I’m yours,” you merely answer, needing him and fast.

Hyunjin grunts as he fumbles with his pants, shucking them down enough to free his cock. You feel the tip at your entrance and your breath hitches as he breaches your hole, slowly but surely until he’s flush to your ass. He draws back, his cock dragging deliciously against your walls just to push back in, picking up a steady pace.

You stare at your reflection, taking in how the paintings continue to move, to swirl around as he fucks you. Your breasts jiggle with every thrust and his hands grip your waist hard as he loses himself in you, speeding up with each thrust. Hyunjin fills you perfectly and the pleasure spreads, causing more slick to coat his cock as he drives it into you.

“This pussy, fuck!” Hyunjin groans as he sinks his teeth into your shoulder, the pain causing you to yelp. He quickly soothes the area with his tongue and presses a kiss to the marks he’s made.

His hand finds its way to your clit again and he begins to rub, needing you to come with him. He’s close as your wet walls swallow him whole, as they wrap around his cock nice and snug. Your moans spur him on as they are music to his ears.

Hyunjin looks into the mirror to watch you fall apart, all because of his cock. His eyes stay on yours and he thrusts into you harder, faster as he chases his high. You let out a string of loud moans as you reach your climax, letting out a groan as you finally tip over the edge. His fingers don’t stop but instead continue to rub your clit as he fucks you through your high.

The sight is more than Hyunjin can bear and he releases inside you, spurts of warm cum flooding your pussy, coating your walls and cervix. He slows his thrusts as you milk every last drop until he’s empty and collapses his head onto your shoulder. He lavishes the skin with sweet kisses, murmuring how sweet you are, his peach, his precious sweet peach.

He steps away and his cock slides from your pussy, the feeling of his cum following suit. It’s an odd sensation, but one you welcome. Hyunjin watches his release drip down your thighs and proceeds to swipe it up and push it back in, wanting you to keep it safe.

Satisfied, he leads you to the bathroom and he begins the process of washing your body, taking great care to be gentle as he reaches your sore core. He sings a melody that soothes your body and mind and you let his hands once more drag across your body, to lace it with soft lavender and tender honey. Once he’s done, he dries your skin, running a fluffy towel over you, taking care to press a kiss to your lips every now and then.

He carefully dresses you and then pulls you into bed, snuggling you close to his body, a position you find yourself in every night since his arrival. Clean, warm, and safe, you drift off to sleep, cradled in the embrace of your spirit.

“What are you doing?” You coo as your fingers cascade through Hyunjin’s soft locks. He’s lounging across your lap, playing with the hem of your shirt. You two have become much closer, needing to be next to each other every second of the day. Hyunjin practically howls when you have to leave for work, wishing he could come with you.

“Hmm I’m bored peach,” Hyunjin says with a pout, his lips poking out and his gaze shifting to yours.

“Aww, well maybe we could go out? My mother has been wanting me to stop by…we could go visit?” You pause for a moment considering your question. You’d be bringing Hyunjin to meet your mother, a fact that scares you a little. What would she think of this man and what he means to you? “That is if you want,” you add as an afterthought.

Hyunjin sits up and chuckles, “I’d love to meet your mother peach. I’m sure she’s amazing just like you.” He boops the end of your nose and you blush, smitten with your spirit.

“Well then let’s get ready.”

Hyunjin merely nods and gets up, scampering off to your bedroom to get dressed. You follow right behind him and pick out an outfit, perfect for visiting your mother. It’s been a while since you’ve seen her and she’s been curious as to why you haven’t stopped by. She’ll definitely be shocked but pleased once she understands the reason why.

You’re fixing your hair when Hyunjin wraps his arms around you, immediately nuzzling his face in your hair. “So beautiful, my peach.”

You chuckle and turn around in his grasp, placing your palm on his cheek. “You’re more beautiful.”

Hyunjin tsks and turns to leave, “Not in a million years. Let’s go!”

The journey to your mother’s is a long one, two hours by train. She lives in the countryside, where she can be close to nature, where she feels at home. Not much has changed since you were little, your childhood home in pristine condition as it was when you left shortly after finishing high school.

Once you’re off the train, it’s a short walk to your home. Hyunjin looks around happily, taking a moment to stop every now and then and smell the flowers that line to walkway to your home. He glances at you occasionally with a wide grin and before you approach the front door, he reaches down to interlock his fingers with yours.

There are tendrils of vines interweaving the sides of the door and fresh herbs that reside in various pots, the fragrance pleasant in the cool air. A welcome sign hangs from the wood and you knock loudly as you give Hyunjin an encouraging smile. You can hear your mother move about the house as she sing-songs ‘Coming!’ Loudly.

A moment later, the door swings open and your mother appears, looking refreshed and elated at your appearance.

“Y/n! What a surprise!” She looks you over and nods in approval before her eyes wonder to Hyunjin standing next to you. Her brows raise in amusement and she places her hands on her hips. “Ahh so it has occurred. Come in, come in.”

She turns her back to you two and wanders into the house, her skirt brushing around in a dramatic fashion. You lead Hyunjin into your home and immediately you feel at peace. The scent of jasmine that you remember wraps around you, cradling you, almost as if it’s welcoming you home. The fire is blazing in the hearth and normally it would be stifling from the heat but the opposite occurs, the air cool against your skin.

Everything is as it should be, not a piece of furniture or random object out of place. Your mother bustles around, searching through her pots that litter the floor. Finding what she is searching for, she wordlessly hands you a sprig of peppermint. You accept the herb in confusion, but nonetheless lift it to your nose, the strong mint scent quelling the unease you’ve been feeling in your stomach since this morning.

You wonder how she knew you weren’t feeling well, but it’s your mother after all, her knowledge is quite extensive, especially about her daughter.

“How was the journey my sweet? Pleasant?”

“Yes mother, no issues.”

She hums and busies herself around the room. “Well sit down, lunch will be ready shortly. Then you can tell me all about your spirit there.”

You and Hyunjin share a look of surprise and sit on the couch. You two watch her waltz around the room, preparing lunch and also tidy up…well as much tidying as she can do. Her chaos is comforting and you realize how much you miss it.

“I made a chicken stew today. Something told me to make an ornate meal and so here we are. Mrs. Hubble from town provided the chicken so it’s fresh. I’m so happy you’ve stopped by my sweet! I’ve missed you so much!”

She hands you and Hyunjin a bowl and grabs one for herself before sitting in a chair near the couch occupied by you two. “So, how did you summon him?”

Your mother has always been blunt with her words, thinking that beating around the bush is a waste of time.

“I’m not quite sure mother. A horrible storm came through and I wasn’t able to do the protective spells as you taught me and when I woke up Hyunjin was there.”

“Ahh, then the storm summoned him. Wonderful, I always knew you’d be able to. He’s so handsome,” she gushed, giving you a knowing look.

You blush at her words and bow your head, “Mother, don’t.”

She chuckles and waves your nerves away. “You two have a story yet. Just you wait and see.”

You look up curiously at her words, trying to decipher the riddle. You know better than to ask however as the meaning always presents itself when you least expect it. As you all finish up lunch, she ushers you two up, prompting you to show Hyunjin around which you find an excellent idea.

You start by showing him your childhood room that’s set up exactly the same as it was back then. Hyunjin looks around curiously, lightly touching your stuffies that are propped up on your bed. He glances through your bookshelf, pulling out book after book and thumbing through the pages.

He makes his way over to your cork board that is filled with photographs of you and your friends, all of you smiling at the camera with childhood innocence. “I love your room,” he says as he turns to you, quickly closing the gap in the small room to wrap his arms around you.

You let out a sigh and rest your cheek on his chest, listening to the hardy thumps of his heart. You close your eyes and ground yourself in him, taking deep breath in through your nose and out through your mouth, the scent of honeysuckle filling your nostrils.

In Hyunjin’s arms you feel a little better, your stomach not nearly upset as it has been for a few weeks now. Hyunjin has noticed a difference in your demeanor, especially when you first wake up and he’s taken measures to make sure you feel better, whether that’s making herb tea for you or just holding you close.

After some time you pull away and gaze up into his eyes. His fingers push back a strand of hair that has fallen out of your ponytail and you all but purr at his touch. “Wanna go outside?”

Hyunjin nods and follows you out to the backyard in which he stares at the little oasis with open mouth. Your mother worked hard to make sure the area was a sanctuary, somewhere you two could get lost in and escape the outside world. There’s flowers everywhere, from primrose to chrysanthemums, daisies to roses. Vibrant colors litter the walkway, inviting magic in and serenity.

There’s a tiny pond in the center of the yard and birds bathe in the waters, skittering and splashing in the cool water. In the very back is where your mother keeps her garden, filled with vegetables, herbs, whatever she deems necessary. It truly is an oasis, a place you’d frequently escape to especially after having a bad night filled with nightmares.

“It’s beautiful out here isn’t it?” Your mother asks, looking right at Hyunjin.

“It is, I love it,” he murmurs in awe.

Your mother makes a pleased sound and then crosses her arms as she stares out at the yard. “By the looks of how you’re dressed and the crystals on my daughter’s necklace, I’d assume you’re a Pisces celestial spirit?”

Hyunjin nods impressed at her knowledge.

“Oh don’t give me that look. I know about the spirits my dear, more than anyone in our family. I’m glad Y/n has you though, I knew when I gave her the necklace you two would hit it off well.”

“Why don’t you go inside Hyunjin? We’ll be right behind you in a moment.” Hyunjin simply nods and obeys. You look at your mother curiously, wondering what she has to say that she can’t divulge in Hyunjin’s presence.

She stares long and hard at you, furrowing her brows as her eyes land on your belly. She takes your hands in hers and gives them a squeeze. “Oh my sweet, you’ve grown so much. This next chapter in your life will be difficult, difficult yes but oh so rewarding.”

“Mother what are you talking about?” You are confused, her riddles getting the best of you.

“You’ll understand in time,” she replies with a smile. “In the meantime, I will send those peppermint leaves with you to have. I think they worked quite well for you earlier.”

At that she dropped your hands and head inside, leaving you standing there more confused than ever. You made your way back in the house and went to Hyunjin’s side as your mother put together a little care package. Once she was done, she handed it to Hyunjin and took you in her arms, giving you a big hug.

“Take care my sweet.”

You wrapped your arms around your mother and held her close. After giving you a squeeze, she stepped away and ushered you to the door. “Travel safely!”

You and Hyunjin began the journey back to the train station hand and hand, elated after the visit you just had. Hyunjin made sure to keep you close and once on the train, gave you the window seat so you could rest comfortably. He watched carefully over you as you drifted off to sleep, the outing causing you to feel more exhausted than usual.

When you opened your eyes, you noticed you were back in the city and Hyunjin led the way back home, eager to get you in bed so you could rest. He could tell the trip, although nice, had taken a lot out of you and you looked a little worse for wear.

He pampered you once at home, running your bath and bathing you before dressing you in soft pajamas. You slid into bed and assumed your position next to him, resting in his warm embrace. You succumbed to sleep immediately, letting your exhaustion take over.

“Let me come to work with you! Please?”

Hyunjin is on his knees, his arms wrapped around your legs so he can rest his head on your pelvis. He’s looking at you with the cutest expression, his bottom lip jutted out and his eyes wide and shining.

You are about to leave for work and Hyunjin is not happy about it, wanting to join you at the shop. Your fingers drift through his silky locks as you glance down at him. His cheek rests on your belly but only for moment as something makes him lean back and frown.

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing, it’s nothing.” Hyunjin brushes off your question and continues to plead with you, promising not to get in your way.

“Alright alright, you can come,” you give in with a chuckle and grab your keys. “You have two seconds to get ready!”

Hyunjin scurries away and you hear a commotion in your bedroom before he’s rushing back out to meet you. You nod satisfied and walk out the door, Hyunjin following close behind. He’s silent the whole commute to the shop, that is until you arrive. Lilly is at the register and she looks up with curiosity at your guest.

“And who is this?” Lilly asks, eyeing Hyunjin up and down. She fiddles with her shirt, pulling it down so a little bit of cleavage shows.

Hyunjin ignores her quip but sticks close to you. “This is Hyunjin my…my boyfriend…yeah.”

“Oh?” Lilly says with raised eyebrows. “I didn’t know you were dating again.”

“It’s pretty recent…new couple and all.” You look anywhere but at her face, nervous about your answer. You could hardly tell her that he is a celestial spirit, one that watches over and manipulates your dreams. Lilly would laugh at you and say you’re insane.

“Well Hyunjin, nice to meet you.” Lilly coos. She points to a chair behind the register, “you can sit there.”

Hyunjin nods and says thank you. He looks up at you expectedly, a look of longing on his face. You walk over to him and move a strand of hair out of his face. He smiles and nuzzles into your hand. “Work hard my peach.”

“Of course,” you chuckle and turn your back to him.

The day passes neither slow nor quick and Hyunjin watches all of it. His eyes follow you as you move around the shop, while you ring up customers or even chat with Lilly. You seem at peace as you work, enjoying what you do, surrounded by the pages that tell stories of old and new.

As he observes, he remembers this morning, the flutter within your belly that rippled against his cheek. It startled him in the moment and he wonders what it was from. Maybe you were just hungry since it was morning and you didn’t eat much at breakfast, claiming you felt sick to your stomach. That’s been a complaint of yours recently and he wishes he could take away your discomfort and make it his own.

You’ve been tossing and turning more in your sleep as well and he tries to quell your discomfort, but it seems to not work as well as it has in the past. He’s not sure why, his mind wandering to the potential cause day in and day out. Hyunjin doesn’t voice this to you however as he doesn’t want to worry you.

He’s still in deep thought when you step in front of him, letting him know it’s time to go. Hyunjin takes your hand, relaxing in the comfort of your hold…that is until he notices the change in your aura. He blinks his eyes and does a double take but the change is gone and your normal aura is back. An uneasy feeling settles in his stomach and he pulls you along towards the door.

“Hyunjin wait!” You call out as you’re dragged along out of the shop. There seems to be a slight change in Hyunjin, as if he saw a ghost or something. You wonder what could have spooked him enough to hurry you out of the shop.

You’re not able to ponder the situation for long as Hyunjin begins to yap, talking about going to some festival next month that he’s been eager to go to. His demeanor is completely different than how it was earlier and you quickly forget his odd behavior.

Before you know it you’re back home and Hyunjin is pulling you to the couch. He beckons you to sit down which you do and he starts to pull off your shoes, followed by tucking you in under a blanket.

“How are you feeling?” Hyunjin asks as he fusses around you ensuring that you’re comfortable after being on your feet all day.

“Okay, not feeling ill at least.” You actually felt okay for once, the unsettled feeling in your belly gone. You actually felt like you could eat something other than crackers, your belly growling not a moment later at the thought.

“Hungry?” Hyunjin chuckles after hearing the cry for help from your stomach.

“A little…” you grin, placing a hand on the blanket as if you’re telling your belly to stop being dramatic.

“Say less peach!”

Hyunjin jumps up from the couch and you hear him in the kitchen, banging pots and pans around. Before you know it, the smell of something rich feels your apartment and your mouth begins to water at the prospect of eating whatever delicious dish Hyunjin was making. You don’t have to wait long for him to finish up and he rounds the corner with a plate piled high with your favorite dish-lasagna.

“I made your favorite!” Hyunjin gushes as he carefully sets the dish on your lap.

You smile gratefully and dig in, groaning at how delicious it tastes. At first you thought you weren’t that hungry, but your body said otherwise as you cleaned your plate, licking your lips in satisfaction once it’s clear. Hyunjin chuckles and smirks, probably thinking about how his cooking skills are so good.

He takes the plate away and sets it on the table. “Let’s watch a movie,” he suggests and you readily agree at the calm activity. Hyunjin busies himself with finding an option and turning down the lights, creating an intimate atmosphere that has your pulse quickening and your cheeks reddening. He slides under the end of the blanket that’s wrapped around you and places your feet over his lap.

The movie begins and you both pay attention to the screen, watching as some heroine decides she doesn’t need anybody in her life to excel. It was a cheesy plot and your attention kept diverting unlike Hyunjin whose eyes were glued to the screen. You couldn’t help but stare at him, wondering how you could have ended up with such a great spirit.

As the night went on, you found yourself thinking of the celestial realm and Hyunjin’s home. What was it like? Is it similar to earth? Are there other celestial spirits? You were far away, deep in your thoughts that you missed Hyunjin’s question.

“Y/n? Do you not like the movie?” Hyunjin asks you with a pout, worried that you were bored with the movie he picked.

You chuckled and reached for his hand, “No, I was just thinking about your realm. Like what is it like?”

Hyunjin regarded you for a moment, trying to decide if you were serious or not. You seemed conflicted, both present in the moment but also far away. He could show you his world, there is a loop hole he could explore to get you there.

“Do you really want to see what it’s like?” He asks, staring at you with conviction that has you squirming in your seat.

“I do, I really do.”

“Okay, I can take you there….well, the backway. You can’t go there consciously, but I can take you there via a dream. You know…cause I can manipulate dreams.”

You are silent as he speaks, shocked that he would take you to where he’s from. Did he really mean it?

“I’ll have you fall asleep and right before you enter deep unconsciousness, I will transport you there.”

“Okay,” you whisper, confused on how he really will pull it off. He needed you to fall asleep, which seemed easy enough as you were always exhausted these days. Even now, you could feel sleep pulling at you, begging you to succumb to it and drift off to dream world.

You kept your eyes on Hyunjin, his hand still in yours. He gave you a reassuring smile as you felt your eyes slowly close. The last thing you remember is him whispering something, although you’re not sure his exact words as your brain was slowly shutting down.

Hyunjin waited as you fell asleep, waiting for the exact moment you crossed over into dreamland. He didn’t have to wait long and before he missed the opportunity, he placed his hand on your chest and focused on the celestial realm. A second later he was back at home, well kind of and you were there next to him, blinking the bright light from the sun from your eyes.

“We’re here Y/n,” Hyunjin murmured as he faced his house, a sight he hasn’t had the pleasure of seeing for a few months now.

You were speechless. It worked, Hyunjin’s plan actually worked. You were in the celestial realm, where Hyunjin lived until you summoned him. There was a house in front of you, decked out with flowers galore. Bees flew from flower to flower, doing what they do best. The fragrance was nice and soothing and you took a deep breath in to take it all in.

“Well, this is my home. Wanna go in?”

You nodded and followed Hyunjin inside, a little nervous as you didn’t know what to expect. It was dark inside and you watched as he scurried around to light the room. His home was so…Hyunjin, filled with craft supplies and more flowers. The counters were cluttered, stuffed with items he created in various stages of completion. There was a little bed in the corner of the room, the only other furniture in the small space besides the kitchen appliances.

“It’s not much, but it’s my little sanctuary.”

“It’s perfect,” you gushed and gave him a huge smile. You loved this little space that screamed Hyunjin and all of his little creations that added to the charm of the space.

You walked a little deeper into the room to explore when there was a loud knock on the door.

“Hyunjin! Open up!”

You looked at Hyunjin, alarmed at the threatening voice on the other side of the door. Hyunjin merely chuckled which left you confused. He opened the door with bravo and a man walked in while chattering a mile a minute.

“Where have you been? It’s been ages Hyun. You think you can just up and leave without a word. Everyone has been-“ but his words were cut off by Hyunjin himself.

“Minho, calm down,” Hyunjin said with a chuckle, “I’m here now aren’t I?”

Minho regarded him, a skeptical look on his face. “You’re not really back though, not really. This is a dream isn’t it? What’s going on?”

Minho looked behind Hyunjin and noticed you, cowering in the corner and looking uncertain. The look he gave you could have killed, as he glared at your form, his lips peeling back to reveal bunny like teeth. “Ahh, there’s the reason you disappeared. It was finally time huh?”

He regarded you some more, his eyes roaming your form and looking at your belly longer than he should have. Suddenly, he burst into a huge grin, his eyebrows raising in amusement.

“Been quite busy have we Hyunjin,” Minho teased the ferret. “When is the new addition gonna be here?”

Both you and Hyunjin stared at Minho flabbergasted, not sure what to say to his question. New addition? New…new… your hand immediately flew to your belly, feeling for what this man immediately saw. You couldn’t be pregnant…could you? You thought about how exhausted you’ve been for the last month and how sick you’ve felt throughout the day. You’ve felt slightly more emotional than usual too.

“Oh my god! You’re pregnant!” Hyunjin gushed as he rounded on you. “Peach! That’s so amazing! I’m going to be a dad!”

Hyunjin seemed to accept Minho’s statement, while you were still in shock. Minho walked over to you and extended his hand, “I’m Minho, your Scorpio celestial spirit.”

You timidly took his hand before dropping it, unsure of what to say. Minho smirked at your reaction and turned back to Hyunjin. “So how long will you stay?”

“Not sure, but let’s make the most of it while I’m here.”

Minho nodded and walked over to Hyunjin’s stove and grabbed the kettle that was there. You watched the man move around the kitchen, following the steps to make tea. Hyunjin made room on a chair that was hidden under a bunch of paintings and had you sit, plopping down right next to you.

“So what’s been going on while I’ve been away?”

“Oh nothing exciting. Jisung was summoned which I guess was a big deal as you know who his person is. He was anticipating it for a while now.” Minho grabbed three cups from the cabinet and began to pout the tea. “Let’s see…Felix almost burnt down his house making cookies, the whole village had to help put the flames out. He’s banned from baking for the next month or so.”

Minho handed you a cup which you accepted gratefully. You sniffed the liquid and was surprised your stomach didn’t turn at the smell. Minho gave you a knowing look and sipped his own tea before refocusing back on Hyunjin.

“I told everyone you’d been summoned and they were all elated. They know you’ve been waiting for over twenty five years.”

You blushed at the last part, feeling as if it was your fault why he wasn’t summoned sooner. Hyunjin and Minho began to catch up and you tried to follow the conversation, but soon it became complicated as they were discussing the celestial realm.

You took in Minho’s appearance deeming him handsome as well which threw you for a loop. Are all celestial spirits gorgeous? You couldn’t help but wonder what his power was being a celestial spirit and all. It’s almost as if he could read your mind because his focus switched to you.

“My power is telekinesis and I can also manipulate time,” Minho said as he kept eye contact with you.

You were shocked at first but quickly recovered realizing he could read your mind. Hyunjin giggled at your confusion and reached for your hand. “It is freaky if you’ve never encountered it before. I get it peach.”

Minho chuckled at the latter, “Peach huh? Even have a little pet name. How cute.”

“She’s my little peach,” Hyunjin cood as he brushed the side of your face.

You could feel the heat rising under both his attention and Minho’s. You took in the love-struck face on Hyunjin and feeling your heart flutter at the fact that he was yours. Your protector, your sanctuary, the father of your child. He smiled at you, his lips turning upward and you returned the gesture, that is until his lips continued to curl higher and higher until it reached his eyes.

You stared in horror as his face began to twist in a spiral and you let out a scream, terrified at what he was becoming. Pushing him away, you stumbled to the door and was about to throw it open when a pair of arms wrapped around you holding you back. You scratched and screamed, begging to be let go but the person kept a tight hold on you.

“Y/n! Shh, it’s okay! It’s me Minho, Y/n!”

You could hear your name along with the name Minho. At that you began to calm down, realizing he was the one who had stopped you from bolting outside. Once he saw you had stopped fighting, his hold weakened and he let out a huff. Your breath was choppy and your heart pounding as you were scared who’d you see when you turned around.

Slowly, you did so and were shocked to see Hyunjin, the real Hyunjin, standing in shock where you left him. His face was back to normal and not distorted as it was moments before. Were you hallucinating? You could have sworn his face was different…after all, you saw what you saw.

“Your face…it’s back to normal…”

“Back to normal? Y/n, what are you talking about?” Hyunjin asked confused.

Minho completely let go of you and you walked over to your spirit. Gently, you reached out to touch his face, following the outline of his lips which was how it should be, all the way up to his eyes. You stared in disbelief at how normal everything looked, a far cry from how it was earlier. Were you going crazy?

Hyunjin stood absolutely still as you examined him, not daring to move a muscle. He was terrified and a little confused as to what happened. You claimed his face changed, but how is that possible. He didn’t feel anything. He’s never seen that look on your face…well, maybe a few other times, but that was only when you were dreaming.

Minho caught his eye and stared at him, as if he was trying to tell him something. Hyunjin caught on quickly, looking towards the door. An almost invisible wisp of black smoke was making its way underneath the crack, rising high into the air before disappearing completely. Could this be what disturbed you?

Hyunjin had a bad feeling about this…he probably should get you back to the mortal world, where you belonged. You had already been here too long as time went by quickly here compared to earth. Grasping your shoulders, he interrupted your examination and said, “It’s time to go back peach. Okay?”

You nodded and let him take your hand in his. “Thanks for stopping by Minho, I’ll see you later yeah?”

“Sure, you both get back…Y/n, it was nice to finally meet you.”

Hyunjin hurried you out of the door and led you to the middle of the road, he was about to chant the words needed to return to the earth realm when he felt tendrils wrap around his wrist, trying to separate your hand from his.

He swatted at the substance, attempting to keep it from taking you, but the more he struggled, the tighter it wrapped around your hand. Mumbled voices filled the air, the words not easily made out. You stared at Hyunjin with a terrified expression and you reached for him, reached for safety.

“Minho!” Hyunjin yelled, hoping his friend could hear his cries.

Minho burst out of the house with a shocked expression. Quickly recovering, he raced over to help detangle the substance from you two. “What the fuck is this? This is bad Hyun.”

“I know! Just help us get free and we’ll be out of here!”

Minho and Hyunjin fought against the substance and after some time, a moment appeared that your hands were freed.

“Now!” Minho shouted and he stepped back, watching as Hyunjin took you away back to your home.

You clutched onto Hyunjin and closed your eyes feeling a hard wind beat against your body until it was silent. Opening your eyes, you noticed you were back in your apartment, with Hyunjin sitting next to you, his hand still on your chest. You breathed out a sigh of relief and scrambled into his arms as you sobbed loudly into his chest.

Hyunjin rocked you back and forth, carding his hands through your hair attempting to soothe you. He’s glad you were able to make it out and hope whatever that was will stay away. He’s not sure how long he held you, listened to you cry; but soon you drifted off to sleep, your body going limp in his hold.

He carefully stood up and carried you to bed, sliding in to lay next to you. Hyunjin watches you slumber, at peace at last after that harrowing experience. He had a bad feeling about today’s events…and if what he is thinking of is correct, he’d be devastated.

You didn’t speak of what happened, scared that it would occur again. Hyunjin was more clingy, not letting you out of his sight, insisting that he comes to work with you whenever you were scheduled. You didn’t mind as his presence was comforting, albeit not as much as before.

You had your pregnancy confirmed by going to the doctor, who gladly shared you were almost done with the first trimester, a fact that had you speechless as the whole ordeal still was a shock to you. Hyunjin was over the moon, cooing and talking to your belly everyday. You had a tiny bump, one you could still hide when you went to work or visited your mother, but something told you the latter knew all along from the first time you took Hyunjin to meet her.

Hyunjin felt as if he was loosing control, his power seeming to not work as well as it used to. Oh he could animate his creations easily, that was no problem, but when it came to protecting you in your dreams, he couldn’t quite exert his full strength to do so. He paced the floor one night, waiting for you to fall asleep so he could get to work. It didn’t take long as usual and he crawled next to you, eager to try out a new technique.

Shortly after entering deep sleep, he placed his hand on your chest willing his power to flow through him into you. However, his arm barely glowed and instead was more lackluster which was alarming. He desperately tried again and again, panicking as he noticed you starting to whimper, whatever you were dreaming about starting to turn into a nightmare.

“Work, work dammit,” he grunted as he focused with all his might but to no avail. He felt despair as he watched you struggle, his heart breaking in two at your pain. -- -- “No! Don’t come any closer!”

You screamed at the figure that was hiding in the shadows. It seemed familiar and once it stepped forward allowing the little light that was in the room to illuminate its eyes, you realized why. It was the creature that you would frequently dream about before you summoned Hyunjin.

It crept closer and closer towards you, slowly revealing its body. To your horror, it was long and spindly, with claws as sharp as needles. Its eyes were big and yellow, piercing straight through your skull. It made no sound but instead moved closer to you yet again, raising its claws as if to strike.

The creature eyed your belly and you instinctively wrapped your arms around it as if to protect the little life growing inside you. You crouched over as it continued to raise its claw, higher and higher.

Hyunjin will protect me, don’t worry.

You could feel its breath on your face and you were scared to look up and see its beady eyes.

He has to protect me, he’s my celestial spirit.

You could feel a sharp prick against your skin, its claws finally making contact.

Hyunjin! Please! Help!

You clutched your belly tighter and with a last ditch effort screamed Hyunjin’s name. Suddenly, it was quiet and you could smell fresh honeysuckle, your body relaxing instantly at the thought of being safe. You looked up and noticed the creature was gone and in its place was a field, the same one you’d dream of in the early days.

Hyunjin protected you, just like you knew he would. He protected you and his child. You smiled and whispered thank you and walked through the field, looking for a way out of this nightmare. — — Hyunjin struggled to remain calm. He was sweating bullets the whole time as he tried to increase his power, to manipulate your dream into something pleasant. He felt his heart sink as he watched the creature almost obliterate you and the baby. He doesn’t know what he would have done if he couldn’t save you in time.

He watched you sleep, now peacefully, his mind racing as to why this was occurring. He pulls you close and breathes in the scent of your hair, a scent that calms him immediately. You’re safe. The baby’s safe.

Looking up, he notices a calendar tacked onto the wall. You’ve marked a slash through each day, keeping track of the month as it flew by. He realizes he’s been here with you for almost half a year, a fact that he finds surprising. Has it really been that long? It doesn’t seem like it as everyday is a dream with you. But, the calendar doesn’t lie.

Suddenly, a thought comes to his mind. He’s been here for six months. Here in the earth realm. He’s a celestial spirit, no wonder his power has decreased. He hasn’t been home to replenish his mana in half a year.

This is bad…really bad.

He needs to go home, replenish his power. But if he goes home, he won’t be able to be with you…be with his child. Does he really have to go? That’s a silly question he thinks, of course he has to go. He needs to keep you safe.

You will be devastated, especially with a baby on the way…his baby. He stares at your sleeping face and memorizes your features once again, engraving it into his brain. He’ll breach the topic tomorrow once you’ve slept some and can listen to the heartbreaking tale his has to share.

You wake to the smell of bacon and you immediately hop out of bed, rushing to the kitchen to see Hyunjin bent over the stove slaving away. Sneaking up to him, you wrap your arms around his middle and bury your head in his shirt breathing him in.

“Morning peach.”

“Morning,” you reply, your voice muffled.

“Go sit, breakfast is almost ready.”

You don’t need to be told twice and you rush to your chair, plopping down to wait for your plate. Hyunjin brings it over and places it in front of you. Immediately you begin to scarf it down, your belly rumbling in satisfaction at being filled.

Hyunjin watches you, always impressed at your appetite, something he will miss once he’s gone. He sighs and sits back in his chair, an action you notice right away.

“What’s wrong?” You ask, wondering if he’s disgusted with how you’re eating.

“Y/n, there’s something I need to tell you. You know how you’ve had more nightmares and odd experiences?”

You shake your head yes, your curiosity peaked as to where he’s going with this.

“Well, I know why it’s happening…it’s because I’ve been out of the celestial realm for a long time…six months to be exact.”

“Oh,” you murmured. That would make sense, that his power would slowly diminish the longer he’s away from his home. “Well can’t you go back to reset?”

Hyunjin nods but doesn’t say anything else. “Great! Then go back and I’ll be here waiting for you!”

He bows his head. He can’t look at you, not when he’s about to break the bad news. “I can go back…but I can’t come back to you. I can only be summoned once.”

You’re silent as you take in his words. He won’t be able to come back. But what about you? What about the baby? Your little family can’t be broken up just like that. No, you won’t allow it.

“I can come with you!”

Hyunjin shakes his head no, “You can’t. Humans aren’t compatible for the celestial world.” He’s distraught, watching as tears begin to form in your eyes. You drop your hand to your belly and caress it, something you’ve been doing more frequently these days.

“But…we need you,” you wail, the tears falling freely now. You can’t go through this alone, you don’t want to be alone. You need him. You need Hyunjin.

“I know I know peach. But I have to keep you safe so our child can continue to grow. I’ll still be with you, don’t worry.”

You think of the necklace that’s been around your neck since given to you by your mother. Your fingers find the crystals, the familiar habit soothing you slightly. What choice did you have? He’s your celestial spirit after all, assigned to you to keep your dreams safe and nightmare free.

“Okay,” you say with finality, accepting his words.

Hyunjin stands up and stops in front of you. Grasping your face gently, he gazes into your eyes, memorizing how they stare back at him, how they sparkle whenever he’s the one you’re looking at. Leaning down he presses a soft kiss to your lips, lingering a little longer than he should. He doesn’t care however. He needs this last moment, needs to remember it for a lifetime. Finally he withdraws and kneels to come face to face with your belly. He presses a kiss and whispers his goodbyes to his son or daughter.

He hates he can’t be here when they are born, listen to the take their first cry, or meet their eyes as they are welcomed into the world. He knows you’re going to be a wonderful mother.

Hyunjin stands up and gives you a sad smile. “Goodbye peach.”

“Bye,” you whisper and watch him fade, on his way back to celestial realm.

One second he’s there and the next he’s gone. Tears fall freely and your body shakes as you sob. You’re crying so hard you miss the initial vibration, a sensation you haven’t felt in ages. However, you feel it once it increases in intensity and your fingers fly to the crystals, feeling Hyunjin’s presence.

You chuckle and wipe your tears, he’s here…not physically but here. You stand up and go about your day, resolving to stand strong not only for yourself, but your baby, and for Hyunjin.

Your protector, your other half, the love of your life.

“Grandma look!”

Your daughter Camellia shows your mother a butterfly, one she has caught with her own hands. You smile as she smiles and carefully cradles it, careful not to crush its wings.

“It’s beautiful,” your mother says as she gazes down at your daughter’s prize.

Camellia, a beauty with a kind heart. Nature loves her and you love her. You know he would love her as well. She has his mannerisms and smile, those dimples you can’t help but coo over, that make you gush in cuteness aggression.

She has shown promises of magic, just like her father which makes you beam with pride. You’ve moved back in with your mother, deeming the countryside a better place to raise your child, after all you were raised here. She was ecstatic at the idea, happy to be close to you once more and her grandchild.

Your necklace vibrates enthusiastically all the time, especially when Camellia’s voice rings out, almost as if Hyunjin is there, gushing over his daughter that is so much like him. Your dreams have been pleasant and you hoped your daughter would not be plagued by nightmares like you were. You were elated when you found out the trait was not passed on, allowing you to sleep better at night knowing she was safe in her psyche.

You and your mother decided to do some more research to see if any other half human, half celestial spirit children were born in this world and the results were promising. Today was the day you would try out a spell, one that would allow Camellia to travel to the celestial realm, albeit briefly.

She was excited, more than ready to meet her father that you have told her all about. Every night she’ll ask you questions and you would answer them, sharing your experiences of the love of your life. Camellia would listen in awe, bouncing in excitement in maybe meeting him one day.

Camellia bounds over to you, fixing her bag over her shoulder. “Ready mother!”

You give her a smile and pull her into a hug. “You’re going to love it there I just know it. Your father has been waiting to meet you for a long time.”

“I can’t wait to meet him,” she says looking up into your eyes.

“Okay, okay, let’s not delay any longer! “ your mother says as she comes to stand next to you.

You nod and grasp your mother’s hand and together you both focus on the celestial realm, both having been there. You begin to chant a spell, one you can’t say too loud as you don’t want to mess it up. You feel a rush of wind and then it’s gone.

Camellia is gone and hopefully in the celestial realm. You’ll find out soon and you can’t wait to hear her tales.

Hyunjin waits at his door, peering out into the wilderness. He’s nervous, incredibly so. He’s heard her voice but that’s about it. Will you like him? What will you look like: a little him or a little you?

He here’s a branch break and he squints, hoping to see if she’s arrived, but she hasn’t…it must have been an animal. He glances at his watch, she should be here by now. Did the spell not work? Did something happen in the middle of transport?

No, he must think positive thoughts. She will be here in a moment.

Suddenly, he smells strawberries and he’s immediately transported to a time when he used to bury his face in your hair, breath in the scent of the strawberry shampoo you loved so much. He looks up eagerly and sees a figure immerse from the forest.

A tiny girl appears, dressed in a dress that remind him of you. Little ringlet curls frames her face and she’s clutching her bag as if unsure of what to do next. Hyunjin is taken aback at the sight, his heart overwhelmed with love. He’s so happy you chose such a fitting name for a child that was made from love and represented the flowers he worked with so often.

Slowly he takes a step forward and the girl notices, stopping briefly in her tracks. He breaks out in a smile, one that reaches his eyes and with joy speaks the name of his daughter.

Camellia

divider by @sweetmelodygraphics

taglist: @jehhskz @jeonginsleftcheek @armystay89 @palindrome969 @slut4hee @ivydoesit23 @amarecerasus @kaysungshine @fun-fanfics @baby-stay92 @velvetmoonlght @possum-playground @katsukis1wife @my-neurodivergent-world @hanniebaeee @hwanghyunjinismybae @channiesrightasscheek @skzdreamer13 @lezleeferguson-120 @hyunjincanraptoo

[ashen-char]

special to me 🔞

my masterlist, to check out my other works, is here

ship: anora x reader (gender neutral in terms, reader has a penis so g!p)

content: smut (but not PIV), sex work bc of ani's job

summary: a regular client of ani's, you strive to be special to her. the way she calls you puppy makes you think you might be.

word count: 1100+

Ani moans into the kiss, her body arching down into your touch. She can feel the hardening evidence of your arousal pressing against her thigh, hard and insistent. So greedy. She fucking loves it. It makes her own core throb with need, her panties dampening. Because of you. For you.

This knowledge is why you come back every time. You delude yourself that she's only this wet for you, that she hates everyone else she talks to. They're just wallets. You're special. Maybe it's true. Maybe this is her shtick with every client that walks through those doors. You can't bring yourself to care. Not when she smells of cherry blossoms and cheap tequila, not when you can taste her sweet on your tongue and feel her heat on your lap.

"Mmm, my naughty darling," Ani purrs, her hands sliding under your shirt to explore the planes of your back. "Touching yourself without permission, wasting your fuckin' cum. Such a bad puppy." She rocks her hips down against your lap, grinding her clothed pussy against your cock. You can feel it straining in your boxers, begging, pleading for more. More friction, more attention, fucking anything. "Don't you know it's all mine?"

"I'm not bad," you protest weakly. "Just missed you. P-please." You don't think you get the last word out, interrupted by Ani's manicured fingers slipping into your waistband. Your eyes roll to the back of your head, nails digging into the leather seats.

Headquarters' VIP room is a familiar sight to you now. You went for the first time a couple months ago for your best friend's bachelor party. That's when you saw her.

Ani's words bring you out of that reverie. "You're lucky I'm in the mood to forgive you. The thought of you needing me so bad you stroked that pretty cock 'til you popped? Well, it makes a girl feel special." She flashes you a smile and you think it's genuine. You feel it.

That makes you perk up. You're her puppy, her baby, she wouldn't forgive anyone else. She wouldn't care.

Ani's hands slide down to your ass, squeezing the firm muscle there. She hooks her legs around your hips, using the leverage to pull you closer. Dancing has given her a lot of strength that might be surprising considering her slight frame, her core and legs in particular. You watch in awe every time she's on the pole. Or on your lap.

"I think you owe me an apology, don't you?" she breathes, her lips brushing against your ear. Her whisper is hot, makes your dick twitch. "You should've fucking visited earlier if you missed me. I think you need to make it up to me with that fat dick of yours."

She reaches between your bodies, fumbling with your zipper. Ani's fingers brush against your clothed cock, making her gasp at the size of you. "Fuck, puppy. Already?" the dancer teases.

"You know you make me hard," you answer sheepishly. "Don't be mean."

She finally gets your jeans undone, shoving them down your hips along with your boxers. "Fine. I'll play nice." Your cock springs free, slapping against your stomach with a resounding thwack. Ani's eyes widen at the sight, her mouth watering, mouth curving into a smile. "God, look at you. So big and hard, all for me."

She wraps her hand around your shaft, stroking you slowly. Ani's thumb swipes over the tip, smearing the bead of precum that's already leaking from your slit. "Tell me my body drives you insane," she says. "That you don't even look at any girl here."

"Your body is perfect." A breathless grasp. Ani pumps you a little harder, retaining that snail's pace but rewarding your words with a squeeze. "You're fucking breathtaking. No one dances better than you. I-I don't even watch anyone else, even if you're doing a group number. The other girls don't exist, not to me."

"Good puppy." She jerks you off with a smirk on that pretty face. You try not to close your eyes, to keep your gaze on how the glitter sparkles just above her cheeks, or the tinsel in her hair. Since she's got those long nails, her hand doesn't even completely wrap around you, mostly stroking the underside. But fuck that's good too. So good.

"Your good puppy," you whine. You can't take it. Your eyes close, you bite your lip, you scratch the seats up.

"I want your cum inside me, puppy. I want you to fill me up until I'm dripping with it." Her voice is low and breathy, filled with lust. "But first, I want that tongue. I want you to eat my pussy until I'm screaming your name."

Ani releases your cock, an action that makes you whimper pathetically, sitting up and quickly stripping off what's left of her clothes. She tosses her bra aside, her pert breasts bouncing free. Ani lies back on the couch, spreading her legs wide in invitation. Her pussy is glistening, swollen with arousal. "Come and get it, puppy," she purrs, her fingers sliding through her slick folds. "Show me how sorry you are."

With a harsh gulp, you kneel down in front of her. A wary glance to the door. "You sure no one will barge in?" you ask. Not that your worry lasts long. She looks too good, glistening like that. Dripping, inviting you to taste. So you throw caution to the wind and you do.

Her legs wrap around your neck and pull you in until your cheeks are pressed against her inner thighs. With a roll of her hips, her wetness smears against your face. The sweetest nectar. There's no more room for hesitation. You bury your face between your legs and eat her out like you're fucking starving.

Your erection is still raging, jutting out from between your legs, but you don't call attention to it. Ani's teased you about it a bunch, calling it your red rocket, your stiffie, laughing as she jacks you off and says it's cute. You lap at her cunt, little licks on her clit since you know she likes the build up. She always tells you to be gentle at first and you're her good puppy so you do.

Her hand strokes through your messy hair, nails scratching your scalp. "That's it, puppy. Just like that." She sighs, and you can feel her body relaxing, muscles untensing. "Maybe I missed you too. Just maybe."

You realise it then, as your tongue curls around her engorged clit and she twists so pretty for you. You were so worried about being special to her that you never thought that she wanted that too. "You're perfect," you repeat, "you're talented, and fierce and I-"

Her grip on your hair tightens and her hips rise from the leather seat, bucking against your mouth as she cums, beautiful and breaking just for you.

[moon-fics]

Pairing: Bob Reynolds x Reader

A/n: I haven't done any creative writing in months. I'm finally doing it again so PLEASE! PLEASE don't be made if I fuck this up.

Request: reader comforting bob (any bob, could be Reynolds or Floyd) after a nightmare abt a mission gone wrong 🙏🙏 may it be filled with all the comfort our dear robert could ever ask for 😌😌😌

Warnings: Swears, mentions of violence

Your first warning was the lights flickering. It was sudden and lasted way longer than a faulty wire would. Your second warning was the vibrations coming from your mirror. The third warning won't be as kind if you ignore it.

You know these warning signs, and you often look out for them. So, you rush out of your room. The dark hallways of the tower are barely lit, but you know your way to his room. You've run to them so often it's almost ingrained in your mind.

You don't even knock before opening his door and closing it behind you. You're met with a familiar sight of Bob curled up on his bed, trembling and gasping. He isn't awake and won't wake up unless someone helps him.

You stumble over to his bed and nearly trip on a Rubik's cube. You grab his shoulders once you reach him, shaking him lightly. This is a strategic mission because Bob is not a gracious person when he wakes up. With his powers, it's a 50/50 chance you get thrown across the room. Thankfully, the only time he's attacked in his sleep, you were able to dodge. Can't say the same for Alexei.

"Bob, wake up," you say while still shaking him. His oversized sweater is covered in sweat that sticks to your hands. "Come on, Bob. Come back to me." You say softly. You've found that yelling has never had a good outcome. So, using a softer tone is the only solution.

After a few seconds, you can see him stirring. His eyes move behind his lids, and his lips press together. You've memorized most of his face and reactions at this point. You've spent so much time with him it was only natural.

With one last shake, he's startled awake. A yell escapes his throat before dying out quickly. He frantically looks around his room before his eyes find you. Oh, do they find you.

It's like a puppy finding its owner after thinking it was lost. His eyes soften, and his breathing becomes controlled. It's rapid, but he's trying to slow it down.

"Did I-?" He can barely ask before you nod. "Was it bad? Did someone get hurt?" His usual questions.

"No, no one was hurt. You didn't do anything bad," You assure him while climbing onto the edge of his bed. You don't give yourself the entitlement of holding him or getting under the covers without her permission. "Was it a bad nightmare?" You ask.

He swallows whatever saliva is in his mouth and nods. "Yeah, it wasn't the best," He chuckles weakly. He pats the space next to him, allowing you into his space. You gladly take it and scoot closer to him.

"I, uh, I couldn't save anyone," He clears his throat awkwardly. You've both gotten into a groove of skipping the 'wanna talk about it' and the 'no, I'm ok'. It always leads to him talking about it and her comforting him back to sleep. "We were on a mission, and you wouldn't leave my side. I don't know what happened, but you were all hanging off a building, and suddenly I wasn't strong enough," He continues.

Having nightmares about bad missions or impossible situations isn't new to anyone in the tower. However, it is to Bob. He wasn't trained as an assassin or for combat. He was just some guy who got dealt bad cards and one wild card.

"Yeah, well, if we go down, at least we do it together," You nudge him. It's clear that doesn't help as his frown grows. "Hey, nothing is going to happen. I'm right here, and Bucky is right across the hall snoring." You say.

You gently rest a hand on his and squeeze for proof. He isn't alone anymore. He has a whole team of people who care and want the best for him. You're both silent as time passes. He can feel your pulse in your hand and how warm you are. Definitely not dead.

"Can you stay tonight?" He asks softly. His softness used to break your heart at how sad he seemed. Now, it's comforting. He doesn't sound as sad but more meek-like.

"Only if you don't kick me in your sleep again," You agree. A half smile spreads on his lips as an answer. You know he's going to kick you, and it's going to be annoying. However, you at least get to have a pretty view the entire night.

He turns over on his side and shifts under the covers. You carefully get under them as well and adjust yourself. Your chest presses against his back, and you wrap an arm around him.

You find it comical that a man this muscular likes being the little spoon, but you have no complaints. If it gets him a good night's sleep, you'll hold him all night.

"I'm right here," You repeat while shutting your eyes.

[authorhjk1]

What would RV’s preferred sexual act be when doing the deed in public because they’re horny and where would be their favorite place to perform the act?

Irene

You quickly realize why Irene chose the elevator and not the stairs, despite it only being a couple of stories. She usually likes to walk, because it's "healthy". But now she hit the stop button on the elevator, while giving you a look that can only mean one thing.

"H-Here?"

You ask, still a little taken back.

"Yes. Here."

Without waiting for your permission, Irene starts to undo your belt. She licks her other hand with her tongue, before reaching for your cock with it. Her salvia covered fingers wrap around your cock.

"Happy birthday, baby boy."

She whispers into your as she hikes up her skirt.

You should've known that she isn't wearing anything underneath. A moment later, you feel your cock disappearing inside her pussy.

Seulgi

"Seulgi, we can't do this here."

"Why not?"

Her innocent face doesn't match the movements of her hands.

The two of you have been on this train for an hour by now and it's going to take another hour for you to reach your destination. At first, Seulgi cuddling up to you was without any ulterior motive. But now, one of her hands is gently rubbing your cock through your pants, while her head rests on your shoulder.

"Can't this wait until we're at my parent's?"

You ask hopefully, but Seulgi shakes her head.

"I won't have you to myself there. It's so unfair that I can't spend your whole birthday with you alone."

Seulgi pouts, while she nows starts to undo your belt.

"Seulgi..."

You don't have anything to retaliate when she begins to stroke your cock.

Wendy

It was Wendy's idea to go on a movie date on your birthday. Unfortunately, she didn't choose a movie that you liked, but one that was more like her taste. Romance.

For the past hour you've been just blankly staring at the big screen. Until Wendy suddenly gets out of her seat. You're surprised when she gets on her knees instead of going somewhere.

"What are you doing?"

You whisper as Wendy undoes your pants.

"Happy birthday, sweety."

The darkness covers the two of you, but you know how risky this is. Too bad that Wendy knows exactly how to use her tongue and lips.

Joy

"Please, I'm begging you."

Joy lets out an embarrassed moan as you continue to gently play with her tits through the thin dress.

"I need you so bad."

She whines, unable to hold still. So far the two of you are the only ones hanging out in this part of the park, but you so try to keep quiet. Or rather keep her quiet.

"It's my birthday. You told me today is all about me."

You tease Joy's inability to keep calm.

And when you let a hand slip underneath the hem of her dress she can't even try to resist.

"Just...Just do something.... anything...."

You hear her whimper as your hand slowly wanders up her naked thigh, heading towards her pussy.

"Oh my god..."

Yeri

"God, Yeri...don't stop."

You half whisper, half groan as you feel her lips continue to glide along the length of your cock.

You have to grab the blanket that is lying in your lap. Your head rests against the backrest, while Yeri's is hidden underneath that blanket.

Her head bobs up and down as she sucks you off, not caring that the two of you are sitting in an airplane.

"Fuck..."

You groan, unconsciously pushing her head further into your lap. You're already close and it takes only a minute or two longer, until Yeri feels your cock pulsating inside her mouth.

[himasgod]

hi hello how are you? uhm this is probably my first time requesting to you

but could I request on twst characters reacting to reader actually having wings but the reader actually hides it underneath their hair(like behind their ears iykyk) to not cause that much attention (because the last time they did it made a huge commotion and had to resist to not throw hands at everyone who keeps touching her wings-) and the boys ONLY noticed when a wind blows their hair aside to reveal it(you can change the way of revealing the wings since I have no idea-)

I don't mind how many you put in this, in fact everyone is fine! just please put Leona and riddle these boys hold a special place in my heart.

and btw pls take your time, I'll be waiting for you. tysm! 🫶

LEONA AND RIDDLE X READER

Where they discover you have wings behind your ears

I hope I understood correctly what you meant, something like this, right?

You were sitting under one of the flowering trees in the Botanical Garden, book in hand, half-lost in thought while Leona lazily lounged beside you.

It was supposed to be one of those rare peaceful moments between classes where he didn’t grumble about being awake. You always appreciated his quiet presence— even if most of it was spent napping.

You reached over to pluck a petal off his hair when the wind picked up suddenly, a gust brushing your long hair to the side.

You didn’t realize anything had happened — not until you noticed Leona had cracked open one eye.

No, not cracked open.

He was staring.

Not in his usual cocky way — but focused.

“...Huh,” he muttered, sitting up just enough to get a better look.

“You’ve been hiding those this whole time?”

“Wha—?” You reached up instinctively and felt the soft edges of your wings, peeking out right behind your ears. You cursed under your breath, immediately trying to fix your hair to cover them again. Leona grabbed your wrist.

“Why hide them?”

You glanced away, ears burning.

“Because the last time people saw them, they wouldn’t leave me alone. Touching, whispering, some wanted to pluck a feather like a souvenir. I don’t need that again.”

Leona’s emerald eyes narrowed.

“People are idiots,” he muttered.

“Touching you without permission... you should’ve let me deal with them.”

“You’re not... weirded out?”

Leona gave a exhale, almost like a laugh.

“You’re at a school full of beastmen, fae, ghosts, and literal magic. Wings are the least strange thing I’ve seen. Still… it suits you.”

“What does?”

He smirked, looking at you through half-lidded eyes.

“That skyborn look. Like you’re from somewhere higher than the rest of us. Regal.”

You gave him a long look.

“…Are you flirting with me?”

“Maybe.” He leaned back down, arms crossed behind his head.

“If people try touching you again, just say the word. I don’t mind throwing hands.”

You were standing beside Riddle, helping with the attendance sheet and budget files, when a gust of wind whooshed through the hall.

Your hair lifted — just enough.

Just barely enough to reveal something delicate fluttering behind your ears. Feathers. Soft, unmistakably wings.

Riddle turned, eyes wide.

“Yuu,” he said lowly, tugging you aside, away from the rest of the group. “Your hair—behind your ears—those… Are those wings?”

You froze.

“…Please don’t make a scene,” you whispered, glancing around. “They’re real. I hide them for a reason.”

“A reason?”

“The last time people found out, they treated me like a pet. Asking questions, touching me, even trying to name them like I was some exotic showpiece. It was humiliating.”

Riddle’s eyes softened with immediate understanding— perhaps even guilt. You expected scolding, or questions. But what you didn’t expect was how gently he stepped in front of you and said, quietly:

“You don’t need to explain yourself, but… if anyone treats you like that again, tell me.”

“Would you collar them?” you teased, trying to lighten the mood.

He gave a small exhale— a mix of a sigh and a laugh.

“Only if they touch without asking. That's grounds for decapitation by Queen of Hearts rules.”

You smiled despite yours. “Riddle—”

“I mean it,you don’t need to hide what makes you different. But if you choose to, I’ll respect that. Just... don’t shut me out.”

You paused, then nodded.

“Thanks. For not freaking out.”

He adjusted his collar, trying (and failing) to look composed.

“I’m allowed one freakout. But only because I think… you're beautiful.”

You blinked.

“...The wings. I mean! The wings—!”

“Right,” you teased, “just the wings.”

[lilacrwses]

▸ their s/o is drunk and doesn't recognize 'em

summary: Partying all night, dancing and definitely drinking made you drunk enough to not recognize your sweet boyfriend.

ft: iwaizumi, bokuto

note: i hope you guys like this, it’s been a while

Iwaizumi

Iwa just came back from a training camp overseas, so he was really tired and just want to cuddle with you.

Might he be forgetting that you were partying out with your friends so he expects that you won't be coming home early?

He did quite everything while waiting for you, cleaning the apartment-which by the way he realized that it was already clean enough on its own.

He took a bath, and would probably get in trouble as he used your favorite bath bomb without permission, but nothing a kiss can't fix.

Well, what he had to do next was just wait for you. The moment his phone lights up and recognizes his ringtone only for your contact- he rushes swiftly and answered it only to be welcomed by your friends voice?

"Iwaizumi-chan, hello! Can you pick up Y/n at XXX-XXX-XXX. She's pretty tipsy at the momeng. Don't rush though! we'll be with her till you're here." He gets his car keys and locks the apartment door before going out. "I'll be there in 5." He quickly presses the red button which ends the call.

Numerous thoughts were clouding his brain right now. Mainly focused on you and how tipsy are you.

In just a couple of minutes, his phone had told him to turn and then he'll arrive at his destination. No doubt that you were right there sitting out at one of the chairs of the club with your friends.

To say that you were cute doing nothing makes him realize how badly he's down for you.

"Iwaizumi-chan! Thank god you're here. She's been telling us how much she misses you, please take care of her from her." Iwa nods and gave a wave to your friends and then focuses his vision on your body.

He walked closer to your figure and helped you stand, but he was just pushed away. Dumbfounded he cooed you and tried again.

"If you lay your hand on me one. more. time, I promise my boyfriend will beat you into a pulp." he smirks and leans in closer to your face.

"Oh yeah? I bet you must love your boyfriend to reject someone like me huh." He plays along with the drunken act. "I love him so much that it hurts." He panics when tears came out of his eyes.

"Hey baby, what's wrong?" Iwaizumi cups your cheeks and wiped the stray tears away. You looked into his eyes and you noticed a familiar warm loving gaze that you'd been missing for a while.

"Are you my hajime? B-but he wasn’t supposed to come home till….tonight" You hiccup.

“You’re my haji!”

"Yes, baby. Now, will you let me touch you now?" You nodded and jumped into his arms right now.

"Ooof- Careful right there." He didn't hear anything but your cute little snores, he might be tired right now but having that little talk with you just gave him a bit-- a lot of energy in return.

Bokuto

This big ball of fluff was with his teammates for an after-party game.

You, on the other hand, are with your friends and are bar hopping. Expectantly Bokuto wandered his eyes searching for a familiar person, but none to be found.

He just thought that you are still probably having fun with your friends.

He reassured himself that a little bit over twelve is still early so here he is patiently waiting for you (even though there's a slight chance you'll never come) while still enjoying his time with his very own friends.

From the perspective of his teammates, it was odd to see Bokuto sitting in one place and not moving so much. Is it because of his drink?

The loud music of the bar made communication a tad difficult. However, Bokuto did not fail to hear his phone ring with the help of the ringing vibration, of course.

His face did lit up when he saw your nickname on his screen and almost took no time to answer the phone.

"My pretty baby! I miss you so much, What took you so long to call, I was waiting." Bokuto is now in his baby voice pouting, much to his joy it was actually your friend who called him and told him you guys were sitting from a distance to where he and his teammates were.

"Oh, thanks! I'll be right there in a minute." It might seem that Bokuto was drinking beer the whole time but it was actually just an orange juice. He didn't plan on getting drunk before he could pick you up.

Akaashi had told him it was not a gentlemanly move to be drunk and be taken care of his s/o. But to be completely honest, Akaashi just told him that so he could spare you handling Bokuto's weakness #12.

He finally saw where you were when he noticed one of your friends waved their hands to get Bokuto's attention. "Bokuto-kun, we're really sorry. She got pretty enthusiastic and got carried away." your friend scratched her nape.

"It's ok, I'll take her from here. Thanks for dropping by though."

Your friends bid goodbyes to Bokuto before leaving. Your boyfriend helped you stand up, you were blinking your eyes trying to see the person that's in front of you. The moment Bokuto landed his hands to your waist you pushed him enough to collide with another person.

Bokuto apologized repeatedly before directing his attention to you again. His thoughts start to bother him. Couldn't you recognize him? How many drinks did you take?

But He tried again, "Y/n baby, it's Kou. You're boyfriend." It seemed that his puppy eyes were enough for you to recognize him.

"Kou?" He nodded

"Yes! Yes, baby!"

You immediately jumped your way to Bokuto, and kissed him."You're my Kou!" He laughed catching you in his arms. "Now let's get you home." He kisses your lips before dropping a text to his team's group chat.

Akaashi was right! He should be taking care of you when you're drunk. Only because he gets to see this new side of you.