aernergy

[aernergy]

irene&seulgi: tilt

[aernergy]

[aernergy]

.𖥔 ݁ ˖ 𝐀𝐋𝐌𝐎𝐒𝐓 𝐒𝐄𝐄𝐍

✮blurb A quiet new member of Red Velvet hides behind perfection—until Irene sees through her silence with a kindness that feels dangerously close to understanding. ✮duo Irene x F!reader ✮tags soft angst, slowburn, hurt-comfort , yearning,

⋆.˚ read now ⋆.˚

They called it a dream come true.

That was the headline when you were announced as the sixth member of Red Velvet.

“New Energy Joins the Nation’s Sweethearts.”

“Mystery Rookie Steals the Spotlight.”

“From Trainee to Velvet.”

You smiled at the press conference, posed for photos, bowed with the others. Every movement perfectly rehearsed, every expression practiced. You knew how to be exactly what they wanted.

But in the quiet moments, when no one was watching, you kept your hands folded in your lap just to stop them from shaking.

From the very beginning, you were different.

Where Seulgi teased and laughed, you nodded and listened. Where Wendy brought warmth to every room, you slipped in and out like a shadow. Where Joy and Yeri embraced you with loud affection, you smiled politely but never leaned in.

“You don’t talk much, huh?” Yeri asked one night as you sat side by side on the dorm couch, music low in the background.

You looked up from your phone, blinking. “I talk.”

She grinned. “Yeah, sure. Like… ten words a day.”

You gave a soft laugh. “Maybe twelve.”

Yeri nudged your arm. “You know, we’re not scary. You don’t have to keep everything locked up.”

You shrugged, letting the smile fade as you stared back at your screen. “It’s just easier this way.”

“Easier for who?”

You didn’t answer.

Because if you said it—if you said “for me”—then you’d have to admit you weren’t actually okay. That this wasn’t just your nature, your quiet way. That it was something deeper. A fear. A defense.

You’d have to admit you were scared—of being known.

And once you say something like that out loud, it becomes real.

And then there was Irene.

She didn’t try to force anything.

She just watched.

And that made her the most dangerous of all.

The thing about Irene was that she didn’t fill silences.

She let them stretch. Let them sit between you, unchallenged. And in those moments, with nothing to distract or deflect, you felt exposed.

Not by what you said.

But by what you didn’t.

It happened more than once. You’d walk into the kitchen late at night and find her already there, hands wrapped around a cup of tea. She’d offer you one without asking anything, and you’d accept without thanking her. Not because you were rude—but because you didn’t trust your voice to hold steady.

She never pried.

But she never looked away, either.

It should’ve made things easier, that silence. No pressure, no demands. But somehow, it only made the knot in your chest pull tighter. Because it was kindness without condition. It was presence without performance. And you didn’t know what to do with that.

Because if you let yourself need it, what would happen when it was gone?

The worst part of pretending was that you got too good at it.

You knew how to smile on cue. How to sound grateful, even when your stomach twisted with anxiety. How to say the right things in interviews and bow at the right times and laugh at jokes even when your chest felt hollow.

You were the perfect new member.

But Irene never looked at you like you were perfect.

She looked at you like she knew.

Like behind every carefully placed word, there was a question you didn’t want to answer.

And maybe—deep down—you wanted her to keep asking anyway.

You told yourself not to read into it.

The way she lingered just a moment too long in the doorway when you passed each other at night. The way her fingers would brush yours when she handed over a drink. The way her gaze settled on you in the mirror before performances, like she was silently steadying you from across the room.

You told yourself it was just Irene being Irene.

Calm. Observant. Kind.

But then there were the things no one else saw.

Like the way her expression shifted when you laughed—really laughed, the rare kind that escaped before you could contain it. She didn’t smile in return. She softened. Like it meant something. Like it mattered.

And maybe that was the scariest part of all.

Not that you were falling.

But that she was, too.

It was two weeks before your first music show performance as a full group.

You were in the practice room long after the others had gone, repeating a section of choreography over and over. The lights buzzed overhead, your reflection watching you with that same unreadable expression you wore in interviews—controlled, composed, untouched.

You knew the steps. That wasn’t the problem.

The problem was how your limbs didn’t feel like your own. How every movement felt just a second too slow, your instincts dulled by exhaustion you couldn’t shake. You moved like someone inside a body, not someone of it.

You didn’t hear the door open.

Didn’t notice her until her reflection joined yours in the mirror.

You froze mid-step.

Irene didn’t say anything. Just walked to the stereo and turned the volume down. Not off. Just enough to let the silence in around the edges.

You turned to her. “I’m fine.”

She tilted her head slightly. “I didn’t ask.”

“I know.”

A pause. A beat.

“You should go home,” she said gently.

“I will.”

“When?”

You swallowed. “Soon.”

She stepped closer, folding her arms loosely across her chest. “You don’t have to prove anything to us.”

“I’m not trying to.”

Her voice stayed calm, but the softness in it sharpened. “You think we don’t see how hard you’re pushing? That you stay behind every night for no one’s sake but your own?”

Your hands clenched at your sides. “It’s not enough to just be here. I have to deserve it.”

“You already do.”

The words landed like a blow—too direct, too kind.

You looked away. “You don’t know that.”

“I do.”

You hated how fast your eyes stung. How close the tears felt, as if they’d been waiting for permission.

And somehow, Irene knew. Of course she knew.

She stepped closer, slowly, like approaching a stray that might bolt at any sudden move. Her hand found your wrist—light, tentative.

“If you break yourself to belong,” she said, her voice so quiet you almost missed it, “then who are they even letting in?”

You didn’t cry.

Not in front of her.

Instead, you stepped back.

Not far. Just enough to slip your wrist from her fingers without making it obvious. You didn’t want her to think it hurt. Even though it did, just not in the way you could explain.

“I should practice more,” you said. Your voice didn’t shake, but it was too flat. Too rehearsed.

Irene didn’t move. She just watched you—calm, unreadable. “Or you could rest.”

“I’m fine.”

“That’s the second time you’ve said that.”

“Because it’s true.”

A beat passed. Another.

Irene didn’t challenge you again. She just nodded once and turned back to the stereo, pressing stop. The music faded, and for a moment, the room was so still it felt like time had paused with it.

“I’ll leave the light on,” she said, heading for the door. “But you don’t have to stay.”

You waited until she was gone before you sat down.

Not gracefully—just all at once, like your knees had given up on you. The mirrored floor felt cold beneath your palms. You stared down at them.

Still shaking.

You pressed them into the floor to stop it. Just like always.

But something had changed. The quiet wasn’t comforting this time. It wasn’t a shield. It felt loud. Crowded. Like Irene had left part of herself in the room with you—and it wouldn’t leave you alone.

She saw too much. And didn’t say enough.

You hated that.

You hated how it made you want to say everything.

But you didn’t. Because you didn’t do feelings. You never had.

You grew up knowing that silence was safer than honesty. That staying small was better than being noticed. That needing something—anything—was a risk you couldn’t afford.

You could be useful. You could be impressive. But you could never be needy.

So you learned to fold in on yourself. Tidy up your fears. Present them as discipline. Turn survival into ambition.

It worked. You made it here.

And now… now, someone was holding out their hand and not asking for anything in return.

It terrified you.

Because what if you took it?

What if you leaned in?

And what if she let go?

You stood up again.

Started the music.

And danced until the mirror stopped showing a person and started showing a machine.

The next morning, you showed up at the studio before anyone else.

Your movements were sharp again. Clean. Mechanical. As if sleep—or the lack of it—had burned out whatever emotion had crept in the night before. You had a job to do. A debut to get right. A version of yourself to maintain.

But she noticed anyway.

Irene didn’t say anything when she entered the practice room. Just offered a small nod as she walked past you to the corner, where she usually stretched before rehearsals. Her presence didn’t feel heavy. But it felt there. A weight you couldn’t shake. Like gravity, pulling in quiet.

You focused on the routine.

Counted steps instead of thoughts. Timed breaths instead of emotions.

Halfway through the run, your ankle gave out—not a snap, not dramatic. Just a slight twist, a crack in the rhythm, your body giving you one more quiet warning.

You recovered quickly, didn’t even fall. But Irene saw. Of course she saw.

And she didn’t stay in the corner this time.

“Sit,” she said, already moving toward you.

“I’m fine,” you said again, that same brittle mantra.

“No, you’re not.”

“I can keep going.”

“I didn’t ask that.”

Her tone wasn’t angry. Just… done.

Done letting you lie to her face and call it strength.

You opened your mouth to push back—but this time, there was nothing behind the words. Just air. Empty and tired.

So you sat.

And for a moment, Irene just stood there. Looking at you like she was trying to decide something. Then she crouched in front of you—knees bent, hands resting on her thighs—and asked, quietly.

“Who taught you that breaking down means you’ve failed?”

You didn’t answer. Not because you didn’t know—but because you knew too well.

A mother who cried in locked bathrooms. A father who left when you were still learning to spell your name. A childhood full of quiet rooms and careful footsteps. You learned early how to disappear. How to need nothing.

How to be no one’s problem.

You lowered your gaze, ashamed by how quickly the tears pricked again.

—you opened your mouth to push back.

But Irene kept going.

“You think strength is pretending you’re unbreakable?” she said, crouching beside you. “It’s not. Strength is knowing when to stop. When to rest. When to let someone help you.”

Her voice was low but relentless now, the softness edged with frustration. “You keep carrying everything alone like it’s noble, but it’s not. It’s isolating. It’s self-sabotage. And we care about you more than you let yourself believe—”

“Irene.”

The name stopped her.

Because it wasn’t quiet. Wasn’t whispered.

It was said—clear and steady.

And for the first time, she noticed your face.

The way your eyes shimmered but didn’t spill. The way your jaw trembled even as you held it tight. The way your entire expression was caught somewhere between collapse and confession.

“I know,” you said softly. “Okay? I know.”

You looked down at your hands again, like they might give you a script. Something to say that would make this moment disappear—clean, forgettable. Something polite. Safe.

But there was nothing.

Just the echo of your own voice, still hanging in the air like a wire pulled too tight.

“I know.”

Did you?

Maybe. But knowing and accepting weren’t the same thing. You could know something and still flinch from it. Still bury it. Still refuse to let it change you.

Irene didn’t press.

She stayed crouched in front of you, steady and silent, like she’d become the anchor in a storm you didn’t want to admit you were in.

You took a breath. Then another. And then you laughed.

A small, humorless sound.

“I don’t even know why I’m—” You cut yourself off, hands lifting in frustration before falling back to your lap. “This is ridiculous.”

“It’s not.”

“Yes, it is. I’m tired. That’s all. Everyone gets tired.”

“You’re exhausted,” Irene said, quiet but unflinching. “And scared.”

You flinched. She didn’t miss it.

She continued anyway. “That doesn’t make you weak. It makes you human.”

You shook your head. “You don’t get it.”

“I do.”

“No, you think you do.” Your voice cracked sharper this time—not in sadness, but defense. Panic. “You see me come apart a little and suddenly you think you know everything. But you don’t. You don’t know what it’s like to feel like a placeholder. Like everyone’s waiting for you to mess up just so they can say ‘See? We knew she didn’t belong.’”

Irene blinked, slow and level. “Who said you don’t belong?”

You didn’t answer.

Because no one had. Not with words.

But the silence after your mistakes. The sidelong glances. The way some of the staff still looked surprised when you got it right. The shadow of comparison that followed you like a second skin.

You felt it, always.

You lived in it.

“You think I haven’t felt that way?” Irene said, softer now. Not pitying. Just… honest. “I was the first. I didn’t even have someone to blend into when things got hard. It was just me.”

You looked at her then.

She wasn’t trying to tell you that your pain was the same. She wasn’t competing with it. She was offering hers beside it. Holding it out like a bridge.

Still, you pulled back. Just a little.

Because part of you didn’t want comfort.

Comfort made things real. Made it harder to pretend.

And pretending still felt safer.

You stood, too quickly. Your ankle wobbled slightly, but you masked it. Swallowed it.

“I appreciate it,” you said, tone flat. Formal. “Really. But I’m okay now.”

Irene didn’t move. “You’re not.”

You forced a smile. “But I will be.”

And there it was again.

The lie dressed in hope.

She exhaled, slow and even. “You’re allowed to be more than just strong, you know.”

“I don’t know how to be anything else,” you said. Too fast. Too honestly.

It slipped out before you could catch it.

And for a moment, everything stilled again.

You didn’t mean to say that.

You didn’t want to say that.

But it was out there now. And Irene didn’t reject it. Didn’t look at you with disappointment or pity.

She just… nodded.

“Then let us show you,” she said. “Let me.”

You looked at her.

Not just at her—but into her. The steady weight of her gaze, her presence, the way she wasn’t asking for anything back. Not praise. Not vulnerability. Not even trust.

Just… space.

And that, somehow, felt more terrifying than anything else.

Because space meant choice.

And choosing meant risk.

You didn’t answer.

Not with words.

But you didn’t leave, either.

And that—maybe—was an answer in itself.

For the next few days, things didn’t change.

Not on the surface.

You still trained longer than everyone else. Still answered praise with polite smiles and criticism with nods too sharp to be natural. Still folded yourself up at the dorm each night, careful and quiet, taking up as little space as possible.

But you stopped flinching when Irene sat beside you.

You stopped pulling away when her hand brushed yours in passing.

And once—just once—you looked at her and didn’t look away first.

It wasn’t dramatic. It wasn’t some cinematic breakthrough. It was a crack. A thin line of light through a locked door.

But Irene saw it.

And she never rushed you. Never leaned too hard on the space you gave. She just stayed close. Consistent.

Until you began to look for her in every room.

Until her steadiness stopped feeling like a question—and started feeling like an answer.

⸻

The night before your first performance, you couldn’t sleep.

Your mind ran too fast, dragging your body with it. You lay in your bed, staring at the ceiling, your chest too tight for breath to come easy.

And for the first time, you didn’t suffer it in silence.

You stood quietly, padded down the hall, and stopped in front of Irene’s door.

You didn’t knock.

But you waited.

And a few seconds later, the door opened anyway.

She didn’t look surprised.

She stepped aside wordlessly, and you slipped in.

Neither of you said anything. You didn’t need to. She just sat back on her bed, back against the headboard, and patted the space beside her.

You sat.

And for a long, quiet moment, that was all.

Until Irene reached over and took your hand—carefully, like always.

And you let her.

Your fingers didn’t shake.

They held.

You didn’t let go.

Not after a few seconds.

Not even after a minute.

Irene didn’t seem to expect you to.

Her hand was warm against yours, palm smooth, fingers light—but not tentative this time. There was nothing halfway about the way she held you. It wasn’t a gesture meant to comfort and retreat. It was steady. Certain.

Like she meant to stay.

You exhaled slowly, the breath catching in your throat before it left you. She didn’t look at you—but not in avoidance. More like she didn’t need to. Her thumb moved once, brushing gently across the back of your hand, and that simple movement nearly undid you.

It said I’m here louder than any words could.

And when you shifted slightly closer—barely enough to feel the side of your leg touch hers—she didn’t react. Just adjusted her grip slightly, like she was anchoring you more fully.

For a while, the quiet held.

But it was a different kind of quiet now.

Not the suffocating stillness of your own mind.

Not the echoing silence you used to hide in.

This one was… soft. Shared. Like a blanket pulled up to your chin. Like a pause, not a void.

“I couldn’t breathe,” you said finally, voice low, barely more than a whisper. “Lying there. I just… couldn’t.”

Irene didn’t ask what you meant.

She didn’t need to.

Instead, she turned toward you, slowly, until her shoulder pressed into yours and her hand left yours only to come to rest lightly on your cheek.

Your breath hitched.

The touch was so gentle you almost leaned away on instinct—some old defense still trying to protect you from feeling too much.

But then her thumb traced along your cheekbone, warm and real, and you let your eyes close.

You didn’t cry.

But you could have.

You could have, and she wouldn’t have pulled away.

“You don’t have to do this alone,” she murmured, voice barely above breath. “Even if it feels easier.”

You leaned into her hand.

Just enough.

“I don’t know how to let someone in,” you admitted.

Irene’s thumb stilled. “That’s okay.”

Your eyes opened slowly. Her face was close now—closer than you realized. Not in a way that startled you. In a way that felt earned.

Safe.

There was a pause.

And then—slowly, carefully—she leaned forward.

Not a kiss.

Not yet.

Just her forehead resting against yours, breath mixing with yours in the hush between you.

“You don’t have to do it all at once,” she said, soft as dusk. “Just… don’t shut me out.”

Your hands, still trembling slightly, found the hem of her sleeve. You held it—not tightly, just enough to feel something solid beneath your fingers.

“I’m trying,” you whispered.

And you were.

Trying to believe in safety.

Trying to believe in her.

In this.

[aernergy]

Let Me In

Irene x Fem!Reader

Word Count: ca. 5k

Synopsis: Behind the spotlight and polished smiles, one of Red Velvet’s members begins to struggle under the weight of unseen pressure. In the quiet of their shared space, love becomes both a question and an answer.

English isn’t my first language so I apologize in advance for any mistakes.

♡ Enjoy! ♡

The apartment was quiet when they walked in, just the soft hum of the refrigerator, the faint tick of the wall clock, and the low click of the door shutting behind them. No lights turned on, no music, no casual joke thrown over a shoulder.

A stillness settled over the space like a heavy blanket, thick and unmoving.

Y/N didn’t say a word.

She moved on autopilot, bag sliding off her shoulder with a dull thud against the wall, her sneakers kicked off carelessly, one landing sideways, the other left crooked and half blocking the hallway. Her posture screamed exhaustion, but not the kind that sleep could fix, her shoulders drooped like something invisible was weighing her down.

She paused for a moment in place, hands hanging uselessly by her sides, eyes staring somewhere vague, somewhere far.

Then came the words, low and distant. 

“I’m gonna shower.” No inflection, no emotion. Just words tossed out like an afterthought.

She didn’t wait for a response, she didn’t look at Irene. She turned and walked down the hallway, towel already pulled from the door hook, bare feet ghosting over the wooden floor.

Normally, she’d linger. Say something dumb just to get a smile. Pull Irene’s hand, tease her, pretend she forgot something just so Irene would follow. On bad days, she’d still do the bare minimum, flop on the couch, fake a dramatic sigh, and wait for Irene to press a kiss to her temple.

But Tonight? Nothing, not even a glance back.

Irene didn’t move, she stood frozen in the entryway, fingers curled loosely around the strap of her purse, watching the place where Y/N had just been. The silence stretched, long and cold.

She tried to write it off “Long day, she’s tired, maybe she’s just overwhelmed.” But none of those excuses landed.They didn’t sit right.

Her gut twisted, a quiet ache starting to bloom in the space between her ribs. Not panic, no, not yet. Just that first drop in the stomach, the one that comes when someone you love starts closing a door you didn’t even know was there.

Something was wrong, and Irene could feel it in her bones.

The signs had been showing all day, subtle but steady, if you weren’t paying attention, you’d miss them. But Irene had been paying attention.

At dinner, Y/N sat wedged between Wendy and Joy, her plate nearly untouched. She picked at her food, nudging rice around with her chopsticks like it was part of some quiet ritual. Three bites, maybe four, a small piece of meat, barely chewed before she swallowed and reached for her water like it was something bitter. She smiled when Joy teased her, laughed when Seulgi dropped her chopsticks and muttered a curse under her breath. But it didn’t reach her eyes, her eyes were tired.

Irene watched it all from across the table, close enough to notice, far enough that Y/N probably thought she wouldn’t.

When the others got distracted in conversation, Irene stayed watching. Her gaze landed on Y/N’s fingers, how they clenched around her napkin every time her phone buzzed on the table. She never picked it up right away, stared at the screen for a second, shoulders tight, jaw set.

Eventually, she gave in. One swipe to check the lock screen, one flash of something in her expression, Irene didn’t know what to call it. 

Pain? Disappointment? Something sharp. Too sharp for someone so soft.

Then the screen went black. The phone slipped back into her bag like it had burned her, and the mask came right back on.

Y/N made another effort at a smile when Wendy asked her a question, answered with that gentle lilt in her voice that always made people lean in. But her fingers stayed clenched in her lap the rest of the meal. She even laughed again when Joy pulled out some weird inside joke, but Irene could see the strain behind it. That split second where her smile faltered, just long enough to be real.

It was muscle memory at this point, pretending everything was fine, but Irene knew better.

Y/N was slipping.

And now, hours later, Irene could still feel the echo of that dinner, the weight of it sitting with her like a bruise that hadn’t quite faded.

Irene moved toward their bedroom, dropping her purse on the dresser with a soft thump before sinking onto the edge of the bed. She didn’t turn on the main light, just clicked on the small lamp by her side of the bed. A warm glow pooled softly across the room, barely chasing the shadows off the walls.

She pulled her knees up and folded her arms around them, chin resting lightly on top. Her eyes stayed fixed on the bathroom door across the hall, slightly ajar, a faint mist curling out around the frame.

The water ran steady in the background.

She waited.

It wasn’t impatience, it was a quiet kind of hoping. Maybe Y/N would come out and say something, maybe she’d crawl into bed and let herself be held. Maybe she’d fold into Irene the way she always did when her walls cracked just enough.

But that didn’t happen.

Eventually, the water shut off. A pause. Then the soft rhythm of movement, towel rustling, the creak of the cabinet, the tap of skincare bottles being shuffled around.

A few minutes later, the door eased open with a click. Y/N padded into the bedroom, wrapped in her oversized towel, damp hair clinging to her neck. She didn’t look at Irene, just moved toward the closet, pulled out a hoodie, and tugged it over her head before slipping into a pair of shorts.

Her silence stretched the whole time, thick enough to chew on.

Irene watched her carefully, picking up on every shift, the way she avoided eye contact, the slight tremble in her fingers as she brushed her hair back, how she tugged the hoodie sleeves over her hands like she wanted to disappear inside them.

“You’ve been quiet today,” Irene said softly, finally breaking the silence.

Y/N froze for a heartbeat, not enough to be obvious, but just long enough for Irene to notice. Her back remained turned, her movements paused mid motion as if considering how much to say.

Then she spoke, casual and even, too practiced to be real. “Just tired.”

Irene let the words sit in the air for a moment before answering, her voice still soft but edged with something firmer, something that quietly refused to be brushed off. “You sure?”

Y/N’s hands stilled again, her fingers mid-way through gathering her damp hair into a loose bun. She didn’t look back. Didn’t meet Irene’s eyes.

“Yeah, Joohyun. I’m fine.”

And that name. Joohyun. landed like a stone in Irene’s chest. Not Hyun, not babe, not even unnie that Y/N used when she wanted to be spoiled.

Just Joohyun. 

Flat. Formal. Careful.

The kind of name someone used when they were pulling away, even if they were trying not to show it.

Irene didn’t respond right away. She just watched Y/N quietly retreat to the far side of the bed, lifting the covers, slipping under them without a word.

The days started to blur.

Wake up, schedule, perform, smile, collapse, repeat.

It wasn’t anything unusual on the surface, Red Velvet had been through busier times, but something in the rhythm had changed, and Irene could feel it like a draft sneaking through a cracked window. Not loud, not obvious. Just steady, cold.

Y/N wasn’t just tired anymore. She was somewhere else entirely.

She started coming home later than usual, ten minutes at first, then thirty, then over an hour. She never said where she’d been, and Irene didn’t always ask. Not because she didn’t care, but because she could already guess the answer.

Irene would be waiting in the living room most nights, curled up on the couch with the TV on low, the glow flickering across her face. Sometimes she’d make tea, just in case Y/N wanted some. Sometimes she’d scroll through her phone, pretending not to be watching the door.

And then Y/N would walk in.

“Sorry, lost track of time,” she’d mutter, tossing her keys into the bowl by the door like she hadn’t been avoiding the apartment for hours.

She didn’t sit beside Irene, didn’t steal a sip of her tea, didn’t collapse into her lap like she always used to after long days.

No hug, no kiss, no “I missed you.” She’d just head straight to the bedroom, shoulders stiff, head down.

The door never slammed, never locked. Just closed, quietly. That almost made it worse. It wasn’t anger, it wasn’t even annoyance. It was distance wrapped in politeness, like she didn’t want to bother Irene with whatever she was carrying.

It was the kind of closed door that said she needed space.

And Irene? She heard it.

She sat there most nights in that silence, trying not to feel like a stranger in her own home. Trying not to take it personally, trying to understand without overstepping. But the ache in her chest was starting to feel permanent.

Irene tried.

She didn’t storm the walls, she didn’t pry. She just showed up, in small, steady ways. She’d bring Y/N tea before bed. Offer to run her a bath. Ask if she wanted to watch something, go for a walk, eat out somewhere lowkey.

Sometimes Y/N would agree. But lately, more often than not, it was just a shake of the head, a quiet smile that didn’t reach her eyes, and another “Maybe next time.”

So Irene started asking differently, trying to find cracks in the silence without pushing too hard.

“Are you okay?” she asked one night, her voice casual but weighted with quiet concern.

“Yeah,” Y/N replied without missing a beat, her tone light, practiced, a reflex more than a response.

Another day, Irene tried again, softer this time. “Do you want to talk? Just us?”

“I’m fine, really,” Y/N said, forcing a small smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes. “There’s nothing to talk about.”

They weren’t harsh answers. If anything, they were soft, too soft. Like Y/N was trying to wrap her detachment in kindness so it wouldn’t hurt as much, like she was trying to protect Irene from her own unraveling.

But the thing about loving someone is, you know when they’re not okay, even if they say they are with the sweetest voice they can manage.

And Y/N’s voice was sweet, but it was full of cracks.

She stopped making eye contact when Irene asked those questions. She started walking past her with a hand on her arm or a kiss on the cheek, brief, like punctuation, not affection. She’d say she was tired, that she had a headache. Say she needed a few minutes alone, and those minutes always turned into hours.

“I’m just tired.” “Don’t worry about it.” “I can handle it.”

At first, Irene let it slide. Maybe she really was tired, maybe a little space would help.

But it kept happening, and each time Y/N said those things, Irene heard the real meaning behind them a little more clearly.

“I’m just tired.” mean “I don’t have the energy to talk about what’s hurting.” 

“Don’t worry about it.” was the synonym of “You shouldn’t have to carry this too.”

Irene never blamed her. She just wanted to wrap her in her arms, tell her she didn’t have to fight invisible battles with her fists clenched in the dark. But every time she got close, Y/N would gently pull away, never rude, never cold, just distant. Careful, too careful.

And Irene didn’t know how to break through that without shattering something. So she stayed quiet. 

For now.

It was a Thursday night, and the apartment felt colder than usual.

Y/N had gone to bed early again, another quiet “I think I’ll just lie down” said halfway through Irene asking if she wanted to order takeout. She hadn’t even touched the dinner Irene made, only pushed the rice around and mumbled something about a headache.

Now the bedroom door was closed, not slammed, just closed.

Irene sat alone on the couch, wrapped in a blanket, the untouched food still on the coffee table in front of her. Some drama played quietly on the TV, but she wasn’t watching, not really. She kept checking the hallway like Y/N might change her mind, come back out, maybe curl up beside her and say what was really going on. But the silence stayed.

Her phone buzzed once on the armrest.

Then again.

Irene glanced down. A couple of notifications, nothing urgent, but one of them had her name. A tagged post. A fan account. Something about Red Velvet’s most recent appearance.

She didn’t usually check those things this late, but her thumb moved on its own. Curious Or maybe just hoping for something to make the silence less heavy.

She tapped in, and wished she hadn’t.

Y/N was trending, but not in celebration, not in the fun, “queen of duality” kind of way.

The comments hit like a slap.

“She’s not Red Velvet material. SM should’ve never added her.”

“She doesn’t fit. It’s like she’s from a different group.”

“Can someone tell her she’s not the main character?”

“Why does she talk so much? Always trying to be the center.”

Irene scrolled, each word heavier than the last. Her throat tightened, her stomach twisted.

She put the phone down slowly, like it might shatter if she moved too fast. It slipped from her fingers and landed beside her on the couch with a dull, final thud.

The TV played on, but she couldn’t hear it anymore. Just noise, just static behind the sound of her own heartbeat, thudding harder now in her chest, in her throat. Irene stared at the screen, the faint reflection of her own face staring back at her, soft in the glow, but tired. Her eyes looked hollow, jaw clenched, shoulders tense in a way they hadn’t been even during the most brutal training days.

She blinked slowly, once, twice.

There was no anger in her, no. She wasn’t mad at Y/N, not even a little. But she was hurting, because she saw it now. All of it.

The closed doors, the rushed excuses, the fake smiles, the way Y/N had started using her real name like a wall between them. The way she said “I’m fine” like it was a line she’d rehearsed, not a truth she believed.

And all the while, she'd been breaking, quietly. 

Alone.

The girl Irene loved more than anything was crumbling right behind a door just a few steps away and pretending she wasn’t.

That was what broke Irene’s heart the most. Not the comments, not the silence. But the fact that Y/N thought she had to go through it alone. That she couldn’t come undone in front of her, that she didn’t feel safe leaning into her anymore.

Irene inhaled, shaky and shallow. This couldn’t keep going like this, something had to give. She wasn’t going to wait any longer.

The hallway felt longer than usual as Irene made her way down it, every step sinking with the weight in her chest. It wasn’t just the dim lighting or the late hour, it was the stillness. The kind that made your ears ring, the kind that followed hurt left unspoken.

She stopped in front of their bedroom door and rested her hand on the knob. It wasn’t locked, it never was. But something about turning it felt like asking permission.

The soft glow from the bedside lamp spilled out beneath the door, warm and golden, the kind of light meant to be comforting. But through the silence, it only felt… sad. Like a light left on for someone who forgot how to come home.

She exhaled slowly.

Then she turned the handle, the door opened without a sound, and the room greeted her with more silence.

Y/N was on the bed, facing the wall. Blankets curled around her. One arm tucked beneath her head, the other draped over the edge of the bed. Her back rose and fell in slow, measured breaths, too slow, too steady.

Irene’s heart ached.

She knew what pretend sleep looked like, knew the difference between the softness of peace and the stillness of someone just trying to disappear.

Irene stepped inside, her footsteps quiet against the floorboards. She closed the door gently behind her with a soft click, sealing the silence in with them. Then she moved toward the bed, sitting down on the edge with care, leaving enough space so it wouldn’t feel like pressure.

Her eyes stayed fixed on Y/N’s back. The curve of her spine beneath the hoodie, the way her fingers were curled into the blanket like she needed something to hold onto.

Irene didn’t speak right away. She just sat there, close enough to reach her, but far enough to let her decide. She folded her hands in her lap and stared down at them, thumbs absently tracing the edge of her sleeve. Her heartbeat was loud in her ears, and her thoughts were louder.

This wasn’t a moment to fill with words, not yet.

So she let the silence settle between them, not to create distance, but to offer something that had been missing. A quiet, open space where Y/N could choose to let her in.

The quiet had stretched long enough that it began to hum in Irene’s ears, vibrating with everything that hadn’t been said. The weight of it pressed against her ribs, made the air feel thinner.

She glanced at Y/N’s back again, took in the way her shoulder blades sat high and stiff, how her knuckles had turned pale from gripping the edge of the blanket too tightly. It wasn’t rest, it was restraint. The kind that comes when you're trying so hard not to break.

Irene shifted slightly, folding one leg beneath her on the bed. Her voice, when it came, was soft but steady.

“You don’t have to talk,” she said, barely louder than a whisper. “But I’m not going anywhere.”

Still, Y/N didn’t move. Her body didn’t tense or relax. It just stayed, like she was trying to disappear into the mattress, like staying still was her last form of defense.

But Irene saw the truth anyway. She always had.

Her eyes dropped to Y/N’s hands again, clenched into the bedding like it was anchoring her in place. Like if she let go, the dam would break.

Irene swallowed.

“I know you think you have to be strong all the time,” she said, slower this time. Her voice dipped into something deeper.

“But not with me, not here.”

There was a beat. A hitch in Y/N’s breathing, then a soft, bitter exhale.

Irene barely caught the words when they came.

“I said I’m fine, Joohyun.”

And there it was. Not the words themselves, but how she said them, tired, guarded, laced with something between guilt and grief. As if admitting anything else would make her weak. As if “fine” was a wall that could hold everything together.

That name again.

No sweetness, no softness. Just the distance tucked inside her full name, like a subtle push meant to keep Irene at arm’s length. It wasn’t anger, it wasn’t cruelty. But it was careful. And that hurt in a way Irene couldn’t describe, because it wasn’t rejection, it was fear disguised as strength.

She could’ve pulled back, could’ve let it go.

But she didn’t.

Instead, she leaned in, just slightly. Her voice didn’t rise, it didn’t sharpen, it trembled with love, with worry, with the ache of watching someone you adore fall apart piece by piece.

“Then why do you look like the world’s crushing you?”

The words settled into the room like dust, and for a moment, neither of them breathed.

Y/N didn’t answer, but something shifted.

Her shoulders drew in tighter, her spine curling inward like she was trying to fold into herself. Her fingers had loosened from the blanket, just barely, but her hands now lay still, open, like she’d run out of strength to hold on.

The silence between them was no longer gentle. It was suffocating. And Irene knew, this wasn’t the time for more space, this wasn’t something Y/N could carry alone, no matter how badly she wanted to.

Irene shifted slowly, deliberately, like she was moving through water. She leaned forward, closing the distance between them inch by inch until her chest was just barely brushing against Y/N’s back.

And then, quietly, gently, she wrapped her arms around her.

Not tight, not urgent. Just there.

Her hands slid beneath Y/N’s arms and found her waist, settling like they belonged there. Her head tucked into the curve between Y/N’s shoulder blades, the scent of her shampoo still clinging to her damp hair. Irene breathed her in like it was the only thing grounding her.

She fit there, perfectly, like she'd done it a thousand times. Like her body knew this shape before her mind did.

Y/N’s breath hitched the second Irene touched her. Not enough for anyone else to notice, but Irene felt it. The subtle shift, the crack forming in the stillness. The tension in Y/N’s spine wasn’t gone, but it wavered. Her back rose unevenly beneath Irene’s cheek, like she was trying to keep control and losing that grip with every second Irene held her.

Her voice came out low, nearly a whisper, full of quiet truth.

“I see you, Y/N.”

She closed her eyes, resting her forehead lightly against the soft cotton of Y/N’s hoodie.

“Even when you try to hide.”

Her arms tightened, not enough to suffocate, just enough to hold. To remind her she wasn’t alone. Her fingers curled gently into the fabric, grounding herself in the warmth of Y/N’s body.

“I’m right here,” Irene whispered. “Please, talk to me.”

At first, it was stillness.

One breath, then another.

Irene thought for a moment she might’ve asked too much. Pushed too far, but then she felt it, so faint it could’ve been imagined.

A tremble.

Y/N inhaled sharply, and her breath collapsed mid way through like a wave breaking against rock. She exhaled with a sound that wasn’t quite a sob, not yet, but it was close, too close.

The sound tore out of her, a single, shattered breath that cracked open into a sob she couldn’t contain. Her body jolted in Irene’s arms, shoulders shaking violently as the dam finally gave way. Her fingers scrambled for something to hold onto before she turned around in a blur of movement, burying herself in Irene without a word.

There was no hesitation.

Her arms wrapped around Irene tight, almost crushing, like she needed to be held together by force. Like she didn’t trust herself to stay in one piece unless Irene was holding her there. Her face pressed into the crook of Irene’s neck, hot tears seeping into her skin. Her breath came in ragged sobs, one after another, pouring out everything she’d been trying to swallow for days.

“I just,” she gasped, voice broken and small, “I didn’t want to be a burden.”

Irene didn’t flinch, didn’t speak right away. She just held her, anchored her. One hand cradled the back of Y/N’s head, fingers threading gently through her hair. The other rubbed slow circles into her back, steady, rhythmic, grounding. Her own eyes stung, but she blinked them clear. Y/N needed her strong right now. Present.

“You’re not,” she whispered, brushing her lips against her temple. 

“You never are.”She tightened her arms just slightly. “Not to me.”

The sobs faded slowly, like a storm rolling off into the distance. Y/N’s breathing was still uneven, but steadier now, less like she was falling apart, more like she was starting to come back to herself.

They lay curled into each other under the blanket, bodies tangled naturally, as if the only way either of them could sleep was like this.

Irene stayed close, never letting go. One hand rubbed slow, gentle circles on Y/N’s back, her thumb brushing along the fabric of her hoodie, up and down in a rhythm that matched her heartbeat. The other was laced with Y/N’s fingers, their hands nestled between them.

When Irene finally spoke, her voice was a whisper, like something sacred. 

“Let them talk.”

Y/N blinked against her shoulder, eyes red and heavy.

“They don’t know you,” Irene said. “They don’t get to define you.”

She leaned in, pressed a kiss to Y/N’s forehead, then the bridge of her nose, then her cheek, each one slow, unhurried. Each one saying I love you, I’ve got you, I’m here.

“You’re mine,” she murmured into her skin. “You’re ours, you’re more than enough.”

Y/N let out a shaky laugh, the sound small but real. “You’re kinda cheesy, unnie.”

Irene grinned against her cheek. “You love it.”

“I do,” Y/N admitted, voice still a little hoarse. “A lot.”

They shifted slightly, adjusting into an even tighter hold. Y/N’s head tucked beneath Irene’s chin now, her hand curled loosely at Irene’s chest, feeling the steady rise and fall. The safety of it.

“You don’t have to pretend for me,” Irene whispered, words soft as breath. “Ever. Not even a little.”

Y/N didn’t answer, but the way she pressed her face closer said enough. She breathed in deep and let it go, like she hadn’t been able to do that in days.

Then Irene added, “And if I ever catch you reading those comments again, I’m throwing your phone in the toilet.”

Y/N let out a tired, half-snorted laugh. “You wouldn’t.”

“I absolutely would, with a smile.”

Y/N smiled back, eyes still wet, but finally peaceful. “You’d cry after.”

“Okay, maybe a little,” Irene muttered, brushing her thumb under Y/N’s eye. “But the point stands.”

They shared a few more soft kisses, no urgency, no need. A kiss to Y/N’s forehead, one to the tip of her nose, a lingering one to her lips that didn’t ask for anything but closeness.

Eventually, Y/N’s breathing slowed even more, the tension finally ebbing out of her limbs. She blinked a few times, heavier with each one, until her eyes fluttered shut for good. Her hand stayed in Irene’s. And for the first time in days, she looked like she might sleep without a weight on her chest.

Irene stayed awake a little longer, just watching her. Watching the calm settle on her face like a prayer answered.

“Mine,” she whispered again.

Then she closed her eyes, and let the peace hold them both.

Morning arrived gently, without fanfare or noise, just a slow bloom of light pressing through the curtains and spilling into the room like a soft promise. It was the kind of light that didn’t demand anything, that let you wake on your own terms, no harsh edges, no urgency.

Irene stirred first.

For a moment, she stayed still, her body still curled protectively around Y/N’s. Her arm was tucked under the younger girl’s head, slightly numb but unmoving, while the other rested at her waist. Their legs were tangled beneath the sheets, the covers pushed down in their sleep, revealing the faint warmth of skin and fabric where comfort had finally settled in.

Y/N hadn’t moved much, and for the first time in what felt like days, her face was completely at peace, no furrowed brows, no clenched jaw, no tightness behind her eyes. Just the slow, rhythmic rise and fall of sleep, her lips parted slightly, her body soft and unguarded in a way that made Irene’s chest ache with quiet relief.

She didn’t want to get up. Part of her could’ve stayed like that forever, just holding, watching, breathing in the fragile stillness of their shared safety.

Eventually, she eased out of bed, careful not to wake her. She padded barefoot through the apartment, grabbing a blanket from the edge of the bed to wrap around her shoulders as she moved. The air was cool, the kind that nipped at your skin before the day fully warmed, and she welcomed it, something crisp and real after the storm of the last few days.

In the kitchen, she moved slowly, deliberately, letting the silence fill the space as she started breakfast. Nothing complicated. Just something warm, something familiar, soft scrambled eggs, a little rice, toast with too much butter, and a sliced apple the way Y/N liked, peeled and fanned out neatly.

Irene didn’t need her to say thank you, she just needed her to wake up to something kind.

It wasn’t long before she heard the quiet shuffling of feet behind her. She didn’t turn right away. She didn’t have to. Y/N wrapped her arms around her waist from behind, pressing her face into Irene’s shoulder, still half asleep and warm from bed. Her hoodie sleeves swallowed her hands, and her voice came out soft, raspy from sleep and last night’s tears.

“Morning,” she whispered, like the word itself might break the stillness between them.

Irene turned in her arms and met her gaze, tired eyes, a swollen face from crying, messy hair, and somehow still the most beautiful thing Irene had ever seen. She reached up, cupped Y/N’s cheek, and leaned in to kiss her slowly, deliberately, like a quiet reassurance.

“Hey, baby,” she murmured against her lips, voice low with affection. “Did you sleep okay?”

Y/N nodded, barely. “Yeah, better than I have in a while.”

They didn’t say anything else for a moment. They just stood there, holding each other, letting the warmth between them say everything that didn’t need to be repeated. There was nothing grand about the way they fit together, no cinematic swell of music, no dramatic line, just quiet familiarity, like coming home after being gone for too long.

“Thank you,” Y/N said finally, her voice barely above a breath, as if she wasn’t sure she was allowed to say it. “For last night, for staying.”

Irene pulled her closer, fingers brushing lightly through the ends of her hair. “There’s nothing to thank me for. I’m always going to stay, you don’t have to earn that.”

Y/N’s eyes softened, and for a moment, she looked like she might cry again, not from sadness, but from the strange, overwhelming relief of being fully seen and still chosen.

They sat down to eat together at the small table, knees brushing beneath it, their bodies still close enough to touch but not needing to cling anymore. There was a kind of stillness between them now that didn’t feel empty. It felt safe.

Halfway through breakfast, Irene glanced up and said, completely serious, “By the way, I meant what I said. If I ever see you scrolling through those comments again, I will drop your phone in the sink.”

Y/N laughed, a real one this time, messy and warm and a little nasal from crying too much the night before. “You’re bluffing.”

“Try me,” Irene said, smirking, but her voice was still soft, still loving.

Y/N reached across the table and laced their fingers together. “You’re dramatic.”

“You love it.”

“I do,” Y/N said, smiling without hesitation now. “God, I really do.”

When they finished eating, they lingered at the table longer than they needed to, fingers still linked. Y/N didn’t look at her phone once. She didn’t check notifications, she didn’t apologize.

She didn’t have to.

And later, when she lay back down on the couch with her head in Irene’s lap and her eyes fluttering closed again, Irene leaned down and kissed her temple, whispering,

“You’re not a burden. You’re mine. And I’m yours.”

Y/N didn’t answer, she didn’t need to. She just held Irene’s hand a little tighter, her breathing even and slow, finally unafraid of being held.

[aernergy]

love shot

⤼ hitman!irene x hitman!reader

⤼ y/n moved through the shadows, swiftly, silently, without a trace. after receiving cryptic messages, her challenger, irene, appeared in her penthouse wanting something. would it be y/n’s life or something else?

⤼ g!p dom irene, sub!reader, intrusion, gunplay, hair-pulling, cunnilingus, blowjob, p in v

⤼ 6.5k words (proofread by friends, once again blame them for mistakes!)

⤼can you guys tell the fatigue was kicking in at the end lol haha, hope you enjoy though, kisses to all the pretty girls!

you were known for your precision. a hitman with a reputation for being both cold and calculating, you took on the most dangerous jobs, leaving behind no trace. what made you stand out, though, wasn't just your skill, but your mind. you enjoyed the hunt, the strategy, and the rush.

on the other side of the coin, irene was no different. a hitman in her own right, she had built her career on eliminating targets without ever getting caught. she was meticulous and always a step ahead of everyone. well, everyone but you.

you two were head to head in competitiveness. with both of your careers being built on being the best, neither of you liked to lose. the world of contract killings was small, too small for the both of you to move around. the first and only time you crossed paths with irene was a job that went sideways, both of you circled the same target, each unaware of the other's presence until the last minute. no shots were taken, but after that day there was, for sure, unfinished business. it wasn't long before the games began. it started small, anonymous cryptic messages sent every now and again. now, it had gotten bigger, much bigger.

you were out buying supplies, the mundane task that gave you a rare moment of peace. but your phone buzzed, giving you an uneasy feeling. another message. a picture of you, taken from a distance, but close enough to know it was you. a quick peek over your shoulder didn't reveal any vital information as to who could've taken the picture. you were itching to text back, but you knew it would do no good.

you pocketed your phone and forced yourself to remain calm. instead, you finished your transaction, every movement measured, every breath controlled, but beneath the surface, your heart thumped inside your chest. today wasn't a day for you to be so worried. 

you took a little detour. a food stall on the street, smelled to good to ignore. skewers sizzled on the grill, filling the air with the scent of charred meat and seasonings. you ordered something and handed the stall manager your money.

"keep the change." you said with a slight smile, leaning against the metal counter. your eyes scanned the crowd, people moved past in a blur; strangers, harmless.

your phone buzzed. you glanced down, expecting exactly what you saw. another message...with an attachment? your stomach twisted as soon as you saw what it was. it was you, just then talking the stall manager. 

a hungry one aren't you, cutie?

your gaze darted around. someone was close. someone was playing games. your fingers hovered over the screen, but you didn't reply. not yet. if they wanted to play, you'd play, until the end. the man handed you your food and you continued down the sidewalk. you couldn't help but to think about if you were being followed. 

you made it to your loft door, your grip tightening around the keys in your pocket. your mind ran through the possibilities. whoever sent that message, whoever took that picture, had to be close. too close. you glanced over your shoulder, scanning the empty hallway. no footsteps, no movement, but that didn't mean you weren't alone. 

sliding the key into the lock, you turned it carefully, listening for anything to change behind you. you stepped inside, closing the door behind yourself with a quiet click before turning the deadbolt. you set the food on the counter, no real intention to eat anything anymore. ripping the supplies bag open, you unpacked everything with efficiency. ammunition, new lockpicks, and suppressors laid out on the counter. everything in its place, everything controlled. 

you exhaled, rolling your shoulders, willing yourself a moment to relax. maybe you needed a drink, maybe just some quiet time. but then your phone rang. how annoying could a phone be? looking at the screen, you had no choice but to answer. it was your boss. 

"yeah?"

"got a job for you," the bold voice on the other end said. 

you leaned against the counter, rubbing a hand over your face. "who is it?"

there was a pause. your boss wasn't one to hold back information and you weren't one to be kept waiting. "hello?"

"well, it's irene."

your grip tightened around the phone. for a moment, all your focus was placed on the clock ticking just above your head. 

irene. your greatest rival. your shadow. the only woman that could go toe-to-toe with you. 

your boss continued, aware of the tension caused by his words, "listen, the client wants her gone. clean and fast."

"how much?"

"enough for you to retire and be done, forever."

it should've been an easy yes. a contract like that meant irene had pissed off someone big. big enough to set up your future with one phone call. instead of answering right away, you ran a thumb over the edge of the counter, eyes fixed on the newly bought supplies. silence stretched on the line before your boss sighed.

"i know it's a huge job, but you in or not?" 

your jaw clenched. this was it. the job that would end your competition forever. 

"i'm in." you said, your voice steady. 

"good, good. i'll send you the details soon. be safe, y/n."

the call ended, leaving only the sound of your own breathing. you placed the phone down carefully on the stand beside the couch, your mind remained sharp. the air in your loft felt heavier, like the weight of this decision had shifted something unseen. but panic? no. you don't panic. instead, you exhaled and pushed away from the counter. you needed to clear your head. leaving everything where it was, you walked toward the bathroom, peeling off your clothes inside. 

the moment you turned the shower on, steam rose up in thick clouds, fogging the mirror you watched yourself dissolve in. you stepped under the scalding water, letting it soak into your skin, washing away all the tension from the day.

irene. she ran through your mind like a shadow slipping between cracks of light, always there, always just out of reach. a name that had been nothing more than an annoyance to hear was now something else. you had accepted the job. you had to end her. you exhaled, tilting your head back under the water. a contract was a contract. irene was just another target. 

the heat of the water had done its job, easing the tension from your muscles and your mind. as you stepped out, steam still clung to the air, curling around your figure. you wiped your hand over the mirror, watching your reflection reappear, sharped, composed, unreadable. just as it always was.

you wrapped yourself in a plush robe and made your way to the living room, letting the quiet luxury of your space settle over you. watching the city skyline, the lights outside glittering like stars trapped in glass. your furniture was sleek, modern, expensive. a place designed for solitude, not company. 

sinking into the leather couch, you reached for the glass on the side table, pouring yourself a drink. the amber liquid swirled under the low lighting as you brought it to your lips, letting the burn settle your throat. your grip tightened around the glass. 

the city was beautiful through your windows, a glittering sea of lights stretching into the night, but it wasn't the skyline that held your attention. it was the faint reflection in the glass. the sharp silhouette standing just behind you. sleek hair, piercing eyes, the sharp curve of a familiar smirk. 

you took another slow sip of your drink.

"how'd you get in?"

you watched as the smirk deepened. "would you believe me if i said you left the door unlocked?"

you let out a quiet laugh, swirling your glass. "locked it."

she stepped closer like a panther prowling on its prey. "then let's just say i have my ways." a hand swooped the glass from your grip. “you don’t look surprised to see me.” irene said before finishing off your drink. 

“i’m not really big on guests,” you turned, now looking just over your shoulder, “especially when they’re uninvited.” 

“oh, don’t be so uptight, y/n. i just wanted to do something interesting!” 

“interesting?” you flashed a questionable look. “more of an inconvenience.”

irene stepped closer, the scent of her shampoo, exclusive and musky, filled your senses. “are you finding me inconvenient, now?” 

“i just find your methods a bit…” a simple shrug of your shoulders. “intrusive, that’s all. especially when they involve breaking and entering.” 

“intrusion is my specialty,” she purred, her finger tracing your jawline. “besides, i thought we had an understanding. we’re both in the same business, after all.” 

“an understanding?” you scoffed, pushing yourself off of the couch. “we have a mutual interest and occupation in eliminating problems,” you walked close enough to feel her breath on your face. “and right now, you’re becoming a big problem.” snatching the glass from her hand and placing it into your sink. 

“how come you don’t miss me?”

“miss you? irene, we haven’t seen each other in months, nor have we had an actual conversation. there’s nothing to miss.” you turned your body, now facing irene, who was still standing over the couch. “why are you here anyway?” 

you had an idea of why. of course, the day you get a call to take out the lady standing in your apartment, she shows up. she was there to kill you, finish what was supposed to be finished when you saw each other months ago. 

“time is a construct. especially in our line of work, a few months is practically a blink.” she shifted, leaning up against the back of the couch. “as for conversation, some things are better left unsaid, wouldn’t you agree?”

“i prefer clarity. unsaid things tend to lead to misunderstandings."  now, you could see the entirety of her figure, dressed in loose, black slacks and a black buttoned shirt. her poorly concealed pistol outlined on her waist. "misunderstandings that usually involve guns."

"always so practical," she sighed, a hint of amusement in her voice. "where's the romance, y/n?" she let her hand drift towards the neckline of her shirt, a deliberate, slow movement. "or are you too busy being efficient?"

"efficient keeps me alive," you retorted, "and speaking of efficiency, you still haven’t answered my question. why are you here, irene? let's cut the pleasantries."

"pleasantries? she chuckled, a low, throaty sound. "i thought we were just getting started." she rose from the couch, closing the distance between you. "but if you insist. i came with good intentions, but i heard you had a little assignment."

"how long have you been here?" you raised an eyebrow, your eyes narrowing. 

"long enough,” she tilted her head, feigning innocence. "it sounded like an important job."

you remained silent, avoiding her gaze. you weren't going to discuss your work with her, especially not in the middle of her uninvited intrusion.

"oh, come on," irene chuckled, taking a step closer.

"don't be so secretive. it’s not like i'm not going to steal your targets."

"i'm not sure i believe that," you said, raising an eyebrow. "you're known for your persuasive methods."

irene smirked, her eyes lingering on your lips. "perhaps i am, but today, i'm more interested in other methods of persuasion."

she moved closer, her hand brushing against your arm.

you felt a shiver run down your spine, not from fear, but from something else entirely. the mere lust that coaxed her voice. 

“since i saw you that day, you looked so fucking good.” her breath falling against your face. “it was my first time seeing someone so captivating.” 

"captivating enough to break in?" you managed to escape from the counter, walking back to the couch. irene almost on top of you from how close she followed you. 

"captivating enough to rewrite the rules," irene murmured, her voice a low rumble as she closed the remaining distance. "and breaking in," she added, her hand lightly brushing against your hip, "was just the opening act." she settled onto the couch beside you, the close proximity sending a wave of heat through your body.

"you know," she continued, her eyes never leaving yours, "i usually prefer a more civilized approach, but something about you makes me want to throw caution to the wind." you shifted slightly, trying to create some space, but irene mirrored your movement, maintaining the close contact.

 "don't tell me you're nervous," she teased, a playful smirk curving her lips. "i thought you were the type who thrived on a little danger."

"danger is one thing," you replied, your voice steady despite the rapid beating of your heart. "unpredictability is another."

"unpredictability is where the fun lies," she countered, her hand once again tracing the line of your jaw. "you never know what's going to happen next." she leaned closer, her breath warm against your ear. "and with me," she whispered, "anything can happen."

her hand slid down to your neck, her fingers lightly massaging the tense muscles. "you're so tense," she murmured, her voice laced with amusement. "relax, y/n. i won’t bite."

her fingers moved lower, tracing the curve of your collarbone. "unless you want me to." she added, her voice a low, seductive purr. 

the air crackled with unspoken tension. you could feel the heat radiating from her body, the intensity of her gaze. it was a dangerous game she was playing, and you found yourself strangely drawn to it.

"you're very sure of yourself," you said, your voice barely above a whisper.

"i'm sure of what i want," she replied, her eyes locking with yours. "and what i want is you."

“i’m right in front of you, aren’t i?”

you weren’t sure if this game was going to end well. maybe, you would end up dead. maybe, she would end up dead. you hoped for the latter, as it would make your job easier, but the former would be much worse. it’s no use to deny her game, you were just as competitive now as you were seeing her all those months ago. 

she shifted, the soft velvet of the couch cushions rustled with movement. “yes,” she breathed, her gaze tracing the lines of your face, the curve of your neck. "you are, but being this close isn’t enough. i want you closer."

her hand moved, not reaching for you directly, but resting lightly on the cushion between you. a subtle barrier to emphasize the space she wanted to close. 

“i want your attention,” she said, her voice low and smooth, “your complete surrender.” she leaned in, her shoulder brushing up against yours. the warmth of her body radiating through the thin robe that dressed your body. “i want you to forget our occupations, forget the world outside this room, forget everything, but this moment.” her fingers inched closer to your thigh, the subtle movement asking for permission.

“and what exactly does ‘this moment’ entail, irene?” you asked, your voice low and steady, matching her seductive tone. “i feel like we might have different interpretations.”

a slow smile spread across the woman’s face, a hint of amusement dancing in her eyes. “i think we understand each other perfectly,” her fingers finally brushed against yours with a teasing touch, “it entails a little discovery. a little give and take?” 

“give and take?” you intertwined your fingers with hers, “i’m open to fair exchange, but i’m not one to give without a little something in return.” 

“and what exactly do you want in return?” she asked with a low whisper, eyes locking with yours. 

“the truth,” your grip tightened on her hand, “the real reason you’re here, and then perhaps we can discuss some form of compensation.” 

her smile widened, a flash of white teeth in the dim, warm light. “the truth?” she repeated. “such a simple request, but the truth is what i told you.”

“and you’re still sticking to that lie?”

“like i said, give and take.” she leaned closer, her breath warm against your ear. “i give you the best fuck of your life,” hand trailing up your arm, “and you take it just like i give it.”

“what makes you so sure you’re capable of delivering? you countered, “i’ve had my share of good fucks.” 

“good? just good?” she repeated, “darling, i’m not aiming for good. i’m aiming for unforgettable. the type of unforgettable that rewrites your definition of pleasure.” 

her hand that had been tracing up your arm, now made its way to the back of your neck, gently massaging your tense muscles. 

"i'm talking about a symphony of sensations," she whispered, her voice husky. "a crescendo of desire. a masterpiece."

she leaned back slightly, her gaze intense and unwavering. "i'm talking about the kind of connection that transcends the physical. the kind that leaves you breathless, begging for more."

"you’re so full of yourself, irene." you said, your voice laced with skepticism. 

her hand slid down to your chest, her fingers tracing the outline of your heartbeat. "i know how to find the places that make you ache. the places that make you tremble. and i know how to bring you to the edge of ecstasy, and then push you over."

you hesitated for a moment, the air thick with unspoken desire. “and what if i say no?” you asked, voice barely above a whisper. 

“then i’ll have to simply convince you,” she leaned in closer, the scent of her perfume, a heady mix of spice and something musky, filling your senses. her breath was warm against your lips. “and i have a feeling you won’t say no.”

her hand moved to cup your cheek, her fingers gently tracing the line of your jaw. then, her lips were on yours. the kiss started slow, tentative, a gentle exploration of uncharted territory. her lips were soft and warm, and the taste of her was intoxicating. you felt a jolt of electricity surge through your body, a mixture of desire and anticipation. 

the kiss deepened, becoming more passionate. her hand moved from your cheek down to the knot that tied your robe. you responded in kind, your own hands finding their way to the belt secured her slacks to her waist. the world around you faded away, and all that existed was the two of you, locked in a passionate embrace. 

her fingers loosened the knot with ease. The silken fabric of your robe parted, revealing your bare skin underneath. a soft gasp escaped your lips as her touch grew bolder, her hand sliding across your stomach, sending shivers down your spine. 

“you feel incredible.” she murmured against your lips. 

your own fingers fumbled with the buckle of her belt, the cool metal contrasting from your warm hands. with a soft click, the belt loosened, and you felt the fabric of her slacks give away slightly. 

“so do you.” your hand slipped to her crouch. “oh?” you felt her bulge practically bursting from her pants. “i didn’t expect..”

“didn’t expect what? this?” her hand grasped your wrist, her fingers tightening. “you think you’re the only one with surprises?” she whispered, voice laced with a playful challenge.

you chuckled softly, a low rumble in your chest. “and what if i want ‘this’?” your fingers pressed lightly against her through the fabric. 

“then,” she said, her eyes darkening with desire, “i’ll give you exactly that.” 

she shifted, her body pressing closer to yours, tension intensifying. “but first, i think we need to get rid of distractions.”

with a swift movement, she parted the robe letting it fall off completely. her gaze swept over your now bare body. “beautiful, every inch of you.” 

“now, your turn.” you started to unbutton her shirt, taking your sweet time. as each button came undone, revealing more of her body, anticipation grew with energy crackling through the air. 

her shirt fell open, with the last button undone. the toned abs of her stomach and firm breasts presented in front of you. 

“impressed?” irene flashed you a quick smirk. 

“more than impressed. intrigued.” you said tracing the lines in her abdomen. she gasped from the way your hand moved up to her breasts. your gaze lingered, admiring the sight before you. her eyes darkened and a low moan escaped her lips. you watched as she folded from the mere toying of her nipples between your fingers. you leaned in and placed a kiss on her lips, “mine.”

“and you’re mine.” she uttered with a breathy voice. 

“tell me what do you want?”

“i want everything, i want you, i want this.” with this, she pushed you gently back against the couch. you followed her lead, body molding against hers. her hands moved to feel the curves of your body. your own hands equally busy, exploring her toned, smooth back. 

you two practically humping each other, moaning in unison. irene started to move lower. marking your neck with hickeys, groping your tits with need. her teeth grazed your collarbone, eliciting a moan from your mouth. 

“you really like to take your time huh.” 

irene chuckled at your words, “perfection takes time.” she said just before wrapping her mouth around your nipple. licking and sucking like she’d never had anything in her mouth before. 

ravenous, hungry, she knows how to make a woman feel good. your hand found its way into her hair, urging her desperate mouth. she swiftly engulfed the other nipple into her mouth, giving it equal pleasure as the other. her hands pulling at your torso, trying to bring you impossibly closer. 

“you’re so greedy,” you followed with a chuckle, “is this how you treat all your targets?” the word made irene stop her motions and give you a questionable look. 

“targets?” 

you gave her a raised eyebrow in return for her repetitiveness. 

“baby, if i were here to kill you, i would’ve done it already.” she didn’t give anymore to the topic quickly moving to your torso, splattering kisses all over, leaving no place without a kiss. you didn’t care that brushed over the conversation, you just wanted her to make you feel good, faster. 

her strong hands guided your legs apart, her eyes holding yours captive. tongue trailing from your navel to your mound leaving a wet, shimmering path. the warmth of her breath ghosting over your most sensitive skin, sending pure pleasure through your body. gathering the wetness from your sopping hole, her thumb brushed over your clit. 

a sharp pant escaped your lips, your body arching, the touch sending a jolt through your core. her thumb continued motioning in circles, pressing, building pressure with each movement. her mouth kissed the inside of your thighs, tongue gliding across your slick skin. the muscle flicking across your inner folds, opening to get a mouthful of your delicious pussy. once she started, she couldn’t stop. 

she devoured you like she knew you to the core. her eyes focused on your hazy lids, watching while she patterned over your bud. you looked so beautiful over her, it fueled her. your hand shoved her face deeper into your pussy and she didn’t mind one bit. you were making such a mess all over your face and she still kept her pace, ravaging you. 

“still figuring me out?” 

“thoroughly,” she murmured against you, only stopping to utter the words. 

“maybe, you need to figure out more.” 

“more?” she echoed, her eyes gleaming with amusement. 

“is that a problem?” your fingers tightened in her hair. 

“not at all.” she said as her mouth left your flesh. she paused, her gaze flickering something predatory. moving her body over yours, tantalizing her weight on you. her hand, slick and warm, traced a path from your hip to your inner thighs. 

her fingers slid between your folds. one just to open you up. the single finger lingered, a subtle pressure, as she leaned down, her breath warm against her ear. your hips buckled into the feel, so needy for more. you couldn’t help but to groan. 

her thumb brushed against your clit, adding to the euphoria. “such a sensitive little thing.” she said just before dipping her mouth into your neck, running her tongue over the marks she gave to you earlier. “do you like that?”

you could only nod, your breath coming in ragged gasps. she nipped at your neck, her teeth grazing at your skin. “good.” she purred, her finger steady at your entrance, thumb still rhythmic. 

“more.”

“more?” 

“i need more, irene.” you turned your head, coming face to face with the beautiful woman in front of you. your breaths clashing against each other. one hand cupped her chin, the other going down to her wrist. you forced her to isolate two of her fingers just to shove them in your hole. 

you pulled her lips to yours, shoving your tongue in her mouth, exploring. the girl took it upon herself to start ramming her fingers into your hole. the sudden raw pleasure made you feel so good. the kissing being the only thing keep you from screaming, but even then you can’t contain yourself moaning into her mouth. sweat started to bead from your forehead, you pulled away from her. it was too much. you asked for more, but oh how much more could you take?

your hole was practically choking irene’s fingers, but she was so good with the way she used them. she looked at you, admiring the sight in front of her eyes; tears forming at the corner of your eyes, mouth gaping open, the vein in your neck popping out from just her two digits. 

“you’re making me need you even more, baby.” no reply came from your mouth, she figured she might push you over the edge too soon, making her pull them out abruptly. after taking a second to catch your breath, you faced her. no words exchanged, just a mere smirk from irene as she dragged her fingers slowly towards your mouth. instinctively, you took the digits, without hesitation. tongue splitting between the two of them, studying the look in her eyes. lust. 

you wanted to show her as love as she showed you, pulling the fingers out of your mouth, you fully moved away from the spot you occupied. irene raised an eyebrow, trying to figure out your next move.

“stand up, silly.” 

“such a demanding lady,” she said standing up without a second thought. you admired her from head to waist. hair disheveled, lips swollen, tits peeking from just behind her open shirt. your attention set on the gun loosely hanging from irene’s waistband. she noticed, pulling it out to inspect for both of you to see. 

“nice isn’t it?” the gun was fitting for a person like her. black chrome finish with a golden “I” engraved on the barrel. 

“very,” your hands found their way to the button, and with a swift motion, it was undone. “is it new?”

“eh, somewhat. old one kept stovepiping on me, dangerous for missing a shot. that is if i ever missed a shot, you know?” her and that stupid fucking smirk. she twirled the gun in her hand, the movement fluid and practiced. “custom job, personalized. just like me.” she held the gun out, offering it to you. “wanna try it?”

the weight of the weapon in her hand, the casual way she displayed it, you questioned yourself. maybe, she wasn’t there to kill you or was she trying to throw you off?

“what’s the ‘I’ for?” you asked, ignoring her offer and keeping your eyes locked on the gun. 

“irene, of course. it’s like a signature.” zipper undone now. a yank revealed the tight, black briefs encasing her cock. big. not surprising from her ego. your hand could even pull at the waistband. “uh, uh, uh.” irene stopped you. “open your pretty mouth.” 

you stammered, “what?”

“open,” she demanded, “i won’t ask a third time.”

you felt something. scared? oh, no. this was different. thrill, desire, hunger almost. the turn of irene’s demeanor was intoxicating. the power she exuded, the blatant commanding, stirred something within you and you loved it. keeping eye contact, your mouth slowly fell open. usually, it was you behind the gun, pulling the trigger. now, you were in front of it, on your knees, on your couch, in your own penthouse, in front of your rival. the question that still remained, would she pull the trigger?

two of her fingers pulled at your tongue, she placed the cold steel in your mouth. the metallic taste seeping through your tastebuds, she eased it into your mouth. 

“now, suck.” 

the feel of the cold metal inside your mouth was a stark contrast to the heat that pulsed between your legs. the texture was strange and unfamiliar. her fingers moved, guiding the gun, controlling the rhythm, the depth. she watched you, her eyes dark and intense. 

“good girl,” she murmured, voice laced with dark amusement. “just like that.” 

she increased her pace, her hand moving faster, pushing the gun deeper into your throat. you gagged slightly, but she held you firm. she was having such a good time watching as the saliva-covered firearm entered in and out of the hole, watching every flicker of emotion, every shudder. 

clearly not entertained enough, she left the barrel in your throat, watching as you gagged, struggled, clawed at the couch cushion. your eyes watered and your breath hitched in ragged gasps. 

“such a pretty struggle,” voice still dark, “almost pathetic.” she leaned closer, her breath warm against your ear. “but don’t worry,” she whispered, “i won’t let you struggle any longer. at least, not like this.” 

she paused, letting the tension build. letting you writhe in discomfort. then, with a slow, deliberate movement, she pulled the gun out, a thin strand of saliva connected the barrel to your lips. 

“there,” she moved back to her stance over you, “better?” 

your throat almost raw, you couldn’t speak, only managing to nod. 

“good,” her eyes scanned your face, “because i’m not finished yet.” she reached over, placing the gun next to your phone. . 

the absence of the steel in your mouth did little to ease the tension that still crackled between you, irene could solve that in a second. her hand snaked around the back of your neck, pulling your head forward, straight in her bulge. controlling every which way your head moved, she was just teasing you. clothed cock rubbing all over your face, you were getting desperate. desperate to have irene’s cock down your throat, choking you, making you take it.     

the friction, even through the fabric, made you pool beneath yourself. her scent filled your sense, making your mouth water. you wanted more, you needed more. 

“patience.” she said lowly. 

“i can’t wait anymore,” your hands came up from the couch, hooking into the briefs. “i need it.” you tugged, desperate to feel the heat of her skin against her lips. 

“greedy.” helping you, she dragged the briefs to the floor. “now take what you want.” 

the sight of her, so exposed, so sexy, so big. her bronze cock, hard and pulsing, right in front of your face. you felt your mouth water at the sight of the precum oozing from the tip.  without a second thought, you lapped it up, your tongue swirling around the head of her cock, teasing the sensitive skin with soft flicks. 

“fuck,” curses spilled from irene’s mouth. 

you continued to tease her, your tongue dancing around the head of her cock, tracing the ridge of the glans, and dipping into the slit. the girl threw her head back from the sensation, moaning so softly. 

you took your time, savoring the taste of her precum, and the feel of her cock against your tongue. you licked and teased patterns, making her squirm with pleasure. tongue dipping down to the base, tracing the vein that ran along the underside. irene’s hands were clenched into fists, trying her hardest to enjoy the teasing and resist ramming herself down your throat. you noticed the tension building in her body, eyes shut tight, the muscles in her thighs, stomach tightening, and her nipples hardening into stiff peaks. 

there was no urgency from you. you had a feeling she would eventually give in and use you as she pleased. her lids fluttered open, eyes locking with yours. you could see the desperation peaking, and then, in a flash of movement, irene’s control snapped. she reached down, her hands grasped your head, pulling you forward. you felt a rush of excitement as her cock thrusted deep into your mouth.

the rhythm of her hips was fast and erratic. your mouth was stretched wide, your tongue extended, as you tried to accommodate her length. her hands now clenched in your hair, holding you in place, as she fucked your mouth with abandon. her hips moved faster, cock pulsating with need. 

“god, y/n,” she said with a sharp gasp. “your mouth is like heaven.” tears fell from your eyes as she roughly lost herself within you. the intensity was exhilarating, but she knew she had to stop. she couldn’t just cum down your throat and be finished, that would defeat her entire purpose of being there. she gave one last thrust before pulling out of your mouth, cock covered with your saliva. your lips were swollen, eyes just a smidge puffy from your tears, breath ragged, and you looked damned good to irene. 

“pretty girl,” she said, pulling a smile out of you. “you know i’m not finished with you.” 

“i wouldn’t dare to think you were. besides,”  you reached between your thighs, displaying the wetness on your fingers. “you still have a little problem to take care of.”

she leaned closer, “and how do you propose we solve this problem, baby?”

you shifted off your knees onto your ass, spreading your legs, signaling for the girl to make her move. she recognized the unspoken plea, the complete surrender in your gesture. 

a low growl rumbled in her throat as she moved in closer, her gaze fixed on your glistening folds. she knelt between your legs, thighs brushing against yours. she placed kisses all over your neck, giving occasional nibbles. your hand navigated between the two of you to stroke her cock. the friction of your hand sent tremors through her. 

you angled her, pressing the head of her cock firmly against your entrance, pulling a soft moan from your throat. the slick acted as lubricant to ease the way. her lips finally found their way to yours, her teeth taking a chance to bite your bottom lip. 

she pulled back slightly, “do i need to do it myself?” she was getting impatient, you could hear it in her tone. you were tempted to test her, so you gave no response, just staring into her eyes. steadily teasing your hole with the firm pressure of her tip, a flicker of annoyance crossed irene’s face. 

“silence is a risky game.” her eyes were dark and intense. she had no intentions of toying around with you anymore. “if you won’t say anything,” she swatted your hand away, “then i’ll just do it myself.” 

she pushed forward, the head of her shaft sliding inside you. you gasped as the unfamiliar fullness began to fill you. your hands found their way up irene’s back. the warmth of her skin, the taut muscles beneath your fingertips, a strange sense of grounding. as she pushed deeper, the fullness inside you intensified, stretching you to your limits. 

“fuck..”

her hips moved slowly, giving you a chance to acclimate once she was fully inside. the girl’s face contorted into relief, finally relieving the ache that was torturing her. she remained still for a moment, savoring the feeling of being buried deep inside you. then, with a paced rocking of her hips, she fucked you. starting slow, a gentle push and pull to adjust to the rhythm. 

you pulled her closer with need, want. tracing from her jawline to her with your tongue, nipping at her ear. it was the perfect opportunity for irene to get what she wanted, to make you hers. her cock slammed at your hole like there was no tomorrow, each thrust eliciting a moan from you and she loved it. 

“rene, please..” a hmm emerged from her lips, too lost in your walls to respond properly. “rene..” you repeated, voice full of desperation. your hands clawed at her back, surely marking up her skin. she pulled you closer, trying to keep herself inside you. she increased the tempo, her thrusts becoming harder, deeper, faster. the room filled with the sounds of your ragged breaths, her low groans, the wet slapping of skin against skin. 

“you feel so fucking good,” you clenched at her words, “my good fucking girl.” you were on edge. she was on edge. 

“inside me,” you begged, “cum inside me, please.” 

irene continued, only now her hips were frantic. your words sparked her drive. a few curses spilled from her mouth alongside yours. “i’m gonna cum, baby,” with a final thrust, she buried herself deep inside of you, her body tensing as she unleashed her orgasm. a raw, guttural groan ripped through her throat, a sound of pure pleasure. she shuddered, her cock pulsing a thick, warm load inside you. 

the sensation of her coming inside you was overwhelming, a wave that spread through your core, triggering your own release. you cried out, your body convulsing, your muscles clenching around her, milking her for every last drop.

you clung to each other, breaths still ragged. her face was buried in your neck, yours rested opposite of hers. irene groaned, her body just as weak as yours. for a long moment, neither of you moved, just savoring the feeling of each other, until you broke the silence. 

“so, why are you really here?” 

irene rolled her eyes, “is this your way of aftercare? if so we won’t be doing this again!”

you let out a small chuckle, “no, but i thought you were here to kill me.” the girl lifted her head to face. 

“i told you already if i wanted to do kill you, i would’ve done it already. plus, i have no reason to kill you.”

“no contract?”

“no, y/n,” she brought her hand to caress your face, “no contract. i promise.”

“now, we’re making promises? are we a couple or something?”

“i mean..” she said with a quick shoulder shrug. you had a feeling she wasn’t kidding, but before you could even say anything, your phone buzzed beside the both of you. 

“oh, can you hand my phone?” irene followed through with the request, but not before holding the device in the air, out of your reach. 

“kiss me for it!”

“what a cheesy lady you are.” you said before pecking her on the lips. she brought the phone to your face. 

“for you, my lady.”

“thank you, my lady.” you smiled. 

you turned your attention away from irene to your phone, turning the screen on with the power button. there was a message with a few attachments. 

sleeping with the enemy? that’s a new low for you, y/n.

[aernergy]

♫ - golden hour

red velvet

pairing — irene bae x fem!reader

genre — gxg, fluff, idol x actress

— in which, zhou y/n surprises her girlfriend, irene, on her birthday after being away for so long

Irene sat on the couch, scrolling through her phone absentmindedly. The dorm was unusually lively today. Wendy was in the kitchen humming to herself, Joy and Yeri were whispering about something suspiciously, and Seulgi had been darting in and out of the living room, grinning like she knew a secret.

It was her birthday, but something felt off.

She sighed, tapping on her messaging app and staring at the last conversation with Y/n. Time zones had made things difficult, but Y/n had promised to call later. At least she didn’t forget, Irene thought with a small smile. But even though she tried to be understanding, a pang of longing settled in her chest. It was the first time in years they had spent her birthday apart, and no amount of texts or video calls could make up for the absence of Y/n’s presence.

Irene bit her lip, suppressing the sting of disappointment. She knew Y/n was busy filming in China, but she still wished for a miracle—just to be able to see her, even for a moment.

“Unnie, let’s go out!” Yeri suddenly chirped, plopping down next to her.

Irene raised an eyebrow. “Go out?”

“Yeah, we should celebrate! It’s your birthday, after all. You don’t want to just sit around, do you?” Joy added, tugging her up by the arm before she could protest.

“Alright, alright,” Irene relented, standing up. “Where are we going?”

Seulgi clapped her hands together. “It’s a surprise!”

Irene narrowed her eyes but let herself be dragged along, the girls chattering around her excitedly. As much as she missed Y/n, she couldn’t help but feel warmed by how much effort her members were putting into making her day special. She smiled as they walked through the city, their lively energy contagious.

They ended up at a cozy rooftop venue, decorated with warm fairy lights and scattered flower petals. A small table was set up with a cake in the center, along with a beautifully wrapped gift box. The view of the city skyline stretched endlessly, the sun beginning to dip below the horizon, bathing everything in a golden glow.

“Did you all do this?” Irene asked, touched.

“Well, we had some help,” Wendy said, smiling knowingly.

Before Irene could question her, a familiar voice called out. “Happy birthday, Hyun-ah.”

Irene froze. Her heart stuttered. That voice—

She turned around, and there she was. Y/n stood a few feet away, looking slightly breathless, as if she had been rushing. Her hair was slightly disheveled from the wind, and she was dressed casually in a sweater and jeans, but to Irene, she looked as radiant as ever.

“Y/n?” Irene whispered, disbelief in her voice.

Y/n’s lips curled into a soft smile. “Surprise.”

Irene didn’t even realize she was moving until she was already in Y/n’s arms, wrapping her up tightly, inhaling the familiar scent she had missed so much. The warmth of Y/n’s embrace, the steady rhythm of her heartbeat against Irene’s own—it felt like coming home.

“You’re really here,” she murmured against Y/n’s shoulder, her voice trembling slightly.

“I wouldn’t miss your birthday for the world.”

The girls cheered as they pulled apart, giggling at Irene’s slightly watery eyes. Y/n reached into her pocket and pulled out a small velvet box, handing it to Irene.

“Open it.”

Inside was a delicate gold bracelet, a tiny charm shaped like a sunset hanging from it.

“So you always have a little bit of golden hour with you,” Y/n said softly. “Even when we’re apart.”

Irene bit her lip, overwhelmed. The charm was small but meaningful, a reminder of the moments they cherished the most—sunsets on the dorm balcony, quiet evening walks, the golden light that always seemed to make everything feel warmer when they were together.

Without another word, she leaned in, pressing a kiss to Y/n’s lips. It was soft and lingering, filled with all the words she couldn’t say. The world around them faded, leaving only the feeling of Y/n’s lips against hers, the gentle press of her hands against Irene’s waist.

When they finally pulled away, Seulgi dramatically wiped a tear from her eye. “That was beautiful.”

Joy elbowed her playfully. “Let them have their moment, unnie.”

Yeri clapped her hands together. “Alright, now can we eat cake?”

Laughter rang out across the rooftop as Irene wiped at her eyes, smiling wider than she had in weeks. She squeezed Y/n’s hand, lacing their fingers together.

“Best birthday ever,” she whispered.

Y/n leaned in, pressing another soft kiss to her temple. “Happy birthday, my love.”

[aernergy]

Praying remaining the best song on the album in the teasers and released

[aernergy]

[aernergy]

take a chance with me

Bae Joohyun x Reader

a/n: 31/1/25 Niki’s songs are on loop a lot lately and by the time I post this I might’ve gone to her concert. oh and of course, happy hearts’ day to everyone! This one’s for you, pookie @slowlydifferentbluebird 💛 sorry it took so long and it isn’t that good 🥲

"I'll be your safety net, so why not raise the stakes?"

You’ll be graduating from university soon. Finally! You’ve been wanting to travel and see the world but here you are, in front of your advisor’s office, dreading the talk of the internship you needed to take. You knocked on the door hoping no one is there but you heard a faint, “come in” and with a sigh you made your way inside of the small office.

Your advisor looked up and beamed at you mid-handshake with a girl sitting across from her. “Ah just in time Y/N.” Your advisor sat up and gestured for you to sit adjacent from the girl but you can’t quite move. The girl looked up at you when your advisor spoke and you sucked in a breath as you took in her features. Her beauty is ethereal and you felt yourself choke at the greetings you usually have as she quipped an eyebrow at your direction as you blatantly stare at her.

You shook your head and cleared your throat to get yourself to focus. And you beamed back at your advisor as you took your seat and acknowledged the girl beside you with a quick “good morning” and a nod. From the corner of your eye you can see her stifle a laugh and mischief dancing in her eyes.

“Y/N this is Ms. Bae, she’s an alumna in our uni and she’s going to be your mentor for the internship I assigned you with so you better do your best, okay?” Your advisor introduced you to the girl, Ms. Bae, with a hand on your shoulder where she squeezed a bit as if to warn you not to fuck up. You smiled at your advisor before looking over to the girl beside you. You offered your hand as you said, “Nice to meet you Ms. Bae. I’m L/N Y/N. I look forward to learning from you.”

The girl shook your hand and you immediately felt butterflies fluttering about in your stomach but you held her soft stare and swallowed the nervousness in you. “It’s nice to meet you, Y/N. You can call me Irene,” her melodious voice rang and you swear it’s as if angels were singing when she spoke adorning that sweet smile.

——————————————————————————

A month passed since you met Irene, but ever since then you always get whiplash whenever she talks to you. It’s hard enough that you saw her almost everyday when your internship started but for her to be your direct mentor made your head spin quite a lot. You’ve learned a lot from her but that also came with you getting to know a lot about her. And even though you act like it doesn’t affect you even a tiny bit, you’re heart has been doing somersaults every time she smiles at you or calls your name, or looks at you while you work on the techniques she taught you.

The thing is, it’s so easy to get enamored with her. Aside from being so goddamn beautiful, she’s intimidatingly intelligent, confident, funny, and so caring towards everyone. And the fact that you’ve gotten much closer feels like pure torture on your part as you make sure you’re always nonchalant. It’s a constant battlefield in your head to keep your feelings at bay especially since she’s a lot older than you.

Little did you know that Irene is struggling with the same thing. She finds it adorable that you try to hide that blush, that look, that small smile towards her. She was so used to both men and women trying to woo her the moment they saw her without even knowing her yet. But here you are, a month with her and another month to go, and she sees how you try your best to keep a straight face whenever she’s around. She thinks it’s endearing and she formed this soft spot for you.

At first she thought it was just because it was her first time mentoring someone from her uni and she feels protective and proud. But over time she realized it was more than that. It’s your wit, the way you speak, your passion to learn the craft that reeled her in. It’s the way you interact with your coworkers, how you easily banter with them and with her, it’s how she can see you reeling yourself in every time you make her laugh and it both captures her heart and frustrates her that you have to hold back. So she gave it more time. You have another month left after all. She’d gauge whether this was just a momentary fixation, a silly crush, or something really much more.

——————————————————————————

And just like that, another month with Irene mentoring you was almost over. Your internship coming to a close in just two weeks. The time you spent with her was all you could ever asked for and more. You learned how to speak with clients and handle events, but you also learned that she chews on her lip when she worries, that she counts silently to three before she speaks to a crowd, that she tugs on her cute dumbo ears when she thinks. You’ve come to memorize her little quirks and once when you were in an event you handed her a heat pack without her even asking and you saw how surprised she was. You scolded yourself for memorizing her so much you were able to give her things without her even asking and thought you had blown your cover of how much you cared for her.

For Irene, it was when she was caught off guard with you offering her a heat pack with a straight face that made her sure of what she was feeling and that she had to do something soon because she feels like you wouldn’t take chance on her. She caught you mumbling with brows furrowed afterwards and she had this urge to just hug you out of the blue with how adorable you are. And so she decided to test the waters and gauge if you do feel the same or she’s just reading things wrong.

The final week of your internship, you were in an event in a cruise ship and you were nervous. One because you’re going to have to share a room with Irene and two because you were deathly afraid of the ocean. As you were arranging your things on your side of the room quietly, you heard Irene humming. How can she be so relaxed while you’re fighting for your life with the butterflies and impending sea sickness?

Irene, on the other hand, was trying her best to distract herself from coming over to you and just tell you she likes you ‘cause she’s thinking you might run away. She took a glance at you and worry washed over her. You look like you’re about to be sick. The ships horn sounded and you both covered your ears. Irene sat on her bed and tried to relax as the ship sailed while you made very little movements to control your gut from spilling your breakfast on the floor. She looks over at you worriedly and asked what was wrong and you took a deep breath before quietly answering, “it’s nothing.”

Then it dawned on her, you were getting sea sick. She rummaged on her bag for medicine and essential oils before getting a bottled water in the fridge. You watched her move and felt like all the blood drained on your face because everything was moving too fast. The next thing you know, Irene has you in her arms guiding you to your bed. She made you drink medicine and water and had you lie down. She put a small bucket near your bed in case you throw up and to your surprise she got on the bed with you.

You felt your face heat up, you no longer had the energy to hide what you’re feeling. She placed some essential oils on your wrists and on your head and started massaging you. “It’s okay, baby, I got you,” she said softly and then abruptly stopped realizing she let that endearment slip. You, in your minds foggy state, started grinning and tugged at her arms, “Don’t stop. I like it.” She looked at you, amused that you’re finally admitting stuff. “You like me massaging you or you like me calling you baby?” She teased, knowing that she might not get much out of you. You sighed contentedly as she started massaging your head again and you scooted a little closer to her.

“I like you,” you whispered quietly and Irene just about beamed, her heart soaring at your admission. “Huh. Now where did your nonchalance go?” She teased and you weakly smacked her hand. She laughed and leaned in to kiss your nose. “Let’s talk about this when you feel a bit better, it might just be the medicine talking,” she laughs lightly. You were starting to doze off when you heard her whisper, “I like you too.”

[aernergy]

Take A Chance

Bae Joohyun X Johnny Suh

warnings: mentions of cheating

A smile plastered on Joohyun's face as she watched her friend fly the spoon of baby food around and make weird noises before landing the food into the confused toddler's mouth, her father then bouncing her on his lap with a soft yay. It was ridiculous how Seulgi and Taeyong changed as people the moment they had married, and almost entirely when they had their baby recently.

Yet it was something she yearned for. And if not for what happened a year ago, she reckoned she would have had the same change.

"Sorry Joohyun." Seulgi finally spoke again after having stopped for the time to feed the fussy baby. "So, what about it? It's gonna be just us adults, you know, friends only. We'll leave her with my parents."

Seulgi had proposed a night out for the friends, just the adults for old times sakes. Joohyun thought it was a good idea, but then realised this might be the first time she'd attend any gathering after an entire year. She dazed off thinking, and Taeyong suddenly poked her arm, making her turn to see the sad smile on his face.

"Don't be disheartened because of that." he knew what she was thinking about, and sighed nodding her head.

Taeyong was the one who caught her ex-husband first, along with Yuta. The two had gone out to meet some friends at a restaurant, when he caught sight of Donghae sitting at another table with a woman, and Taeyong knew it definitely wasn't Joohyun. He decided to ignore at first thinking maybe it's a formal meet or relative, but he couldn't, especially not when they were touching each other so much.

When they got up to leave, he dragged Yuta out with him to sneak behind and watched them entering the car together, and much to his dismay, kissing before driving off. Yuta's eyes widened, and the two went home to their women and discuss what should they do. They all knew Joohyun was as dedicated and loyal a wife as she was a friend, and they'd all hate to see her waste time on someone so horrible, but they also knew how this news would break her.

Seulgi decided they should think a little to which Taeyong and Sooyoung agreed, Yuta however ignored this and went to Joohyun the next day at her office, and told her everything.

Shocked was an understatement, everything around Joohyun had just shut off from her senses. The man she loved and committed her life to betrayed her. She wondered if it could be a misunderstanding or lie, but knowing Yuta she knew he'd never say or do anything without making sure of it first. She left early that day, went home, and as if to kill her even more, saw the woman in her house. It didn't take long before her friends arrived and helped her out of the situation, Taeyong luckily being a lawyer who helped her through the process quick and easy.

She was so ashamed, heartbroken, and full of hatred, that Joohyun refused to go out or meet anyone for the longest time, even avoiding family functions knowing relatives would ask questions.

It had been a year since then, and she knew her friends were only trying to help her out of the hole she had sunken into. She had known Seulgi, Taeyong and Sooyoung since highschool, then met Yuta and Wendy in college. Over the years they had become closest of friends, and while some ended up dating each other, Joohyun ended up getting asked out by Donghae, a coworker, during her internship. After five years of being together, including three years of marriage, she wondered where did it go wrong for him to betray her this way.

Putting all thoughts aside, she agreed to the gathering, and was soon getting ready for the night. Taeyong had arranged for them to meet up at a bar, just the friends and plus one for Wendy to bring her husband, who she met through a blind date back in university. The moment everyone had arrived, Yuta proposed a toast, as well as announcing his and Sooyoung's wedding date in two months, leading to a much louder cheer from them. They would be the last of the friends to finally tie the knot, but as happy as Joohyun was for them, she realised she'd become the only one single despite being the first to marry.

She again put all negative thoughts aside, and joined her friends in whatever they talked about as they kept the drinks coming. It wasn't long before some of them left for the dance floor, the girls urging Joohyun to let herself loose a little. Feeling a little drunk she decided to go for it and let herself go as her body flowed with the music.

A sudden push lead her to trip over her heels, but before she hit the floor, and arm had wrapped around her waist. "Are you OK?" she heard a man's voice, and finally looked to see who had helped her. She nodded, and the man pulled her to stand up while she fixed hersef.

She turned to him again and smiled. "Thanks."

"Bae Joohyun?" she stared in shock, a little scared but mostly confused, as the man mentioned her full name. "Oh my God it is you! It's me, Johnny, from basketball remember. You were my senior partner from the girl's team."

Joohyun stared even more confused, studying the man's face a little, until the memory clicked and she gasped excitedly. "Oh my God! You! Yes!" she watched a smile spread on Johnny's face before he suddenly hugged her. She stood a little shocked before laughing and hugging him back. "It's been so long!"

He let go and smiled at her, and she noticed the look on his face. "It really has. Let's sit and catch up?" he extended his hand, and she nodded accepting his offer. He lead her to a couple of empty seats at the bar and helped hoist her up the seat, then offered her a drink.

"Wow, I see you're still ever the gentleman." Joohyun chuckled, remembering how this man had the best manners back in college. She had been his basketball partner for the two years she studied there and grew close, but sadly lost contact after graduating and switching university. "God, it's been like eight years since we last saw each other."

"Yea, I've wondered what ever happened to you." he sat next to her, passing her one of the drinks served.

"Well, after diploma I went for a graduate, then started working in cosmetic product development... yea, that's all really." she kept a smile, though inside it felt like her conscious was scolding her for leaving out the whole Donghae part.

"Cool, I always knew you were gonna aim high." they shared a laugh as he spoke, and took sips of their drinks before he continued. "Well, I started working right after college, at this tech company. I'm still there, I made head of testing facilities recently actually."

"That is so amazing!" Joohyun exclaimed, genuinely amazed and happy for him. He shrugged, when the look in his eyes suddenly changed as she noticed his eyes follow her hand holding her glass, before looking back at her.

"So, are you single?" the question caught her off guard, her body going still as she wondered what or how to answer. "Sorry, I didn't mean to pry. Just noticed you had no ring on." Johnny quickly tried to explain himself, but she only felt like she couldn't drag on hiding her life like that.

Turning to him, she smiled, albeit sadly. "It's fine." she waved her hand, biting her bottom lip as she thought of her answer. "I guess you could say I recently am single." she looked to see his lips pursed as he nodded.

A sudden smile crept onto his face, which he failed to hide despite trying as his eyes met hers with a glint. "I don't know if you knew, but... I kinda crushed on you back then." he could only laugh at her reaction, her eyes wide followed by a awkward chuckle. "I know, it's weird saying it now. I thought you were so cool, smart, beautiful."

"Oh stop." she hid her face in one hand, the other hitting his shoulder playfully. Joohyun wasn't new to getting hit on, but hearing something like this from a past friend made her shy. Johnny could only laugh at her, before looking at her with a nervouse look.

"Actually... since you are single, maybe we could go out some time?"

Her mood halted again, a litte longer this time. Her eyes met his genuine ones, except hers were filled up shock, and a slight fear. She didn't know what she was scared of, but hearing someone ask her out suddenly made her feel upset. Despite how many times her therapist and friends told her not to let what happen ruin everything else, she couldn't help it, especially when it came to relationships.

Johnny seemingly waited, though she noticed his face had switched, as if he was scared he might have offended her or something. He was a good man, from what she remembered about Johnny, she wouldn't have been this hesitant if this was before everything that broke her.

Hastily she drank up the remainder of her drink, deciding to just be out right honest with him. "Johnny... you're a great guy, and honestly if it was some other universe I know I would have said yes right away. But..." she swallowed the lump in her throat, hand gripping her glass tighter as she tried to keep herself from breaking down in a public space. "I went through a divorce, a year ago. He... cheated on me. And I know I should move on and not let it affect my life so much, but I can't help it. We were together for 5 years overall, and having all that just thrown away like it meant nothing just..."

By now she couldn't help it as a soft sob left her, quickly turning away and covering her mouth to try holding it back. It must have been the alcohol and overflowing emotions, because she could feel she was not able to hold it in. Suddenly, a warm body enveloped her from one side, arms wrapped around her and pulling her into their chest tight, one hand rubbing up and down her exposed arm.

"Cry, don't try to hold it in. You need to feel it to really be able to move on." Johnny's deep voice resonated around her, any other sounds from the people or club having gone silent as she finally dropped her head and allowed her tears to escape.

A louder sob left her, followed by another, and before she could get any more Johnny quickly turned her head and pushed her face into his chest, covering over the sounds so that she didn't garner any unwanted attention. He took off his suit jacket and placed it over her from behind before hugging her again, arms tightening every time her body shook from the pain she felt inside.

It took a good few minutes before the crying stopped, Joohyun now simply resting against his body as she slowly picked back up her energy. Johnny's hands were more loose around her, one on her back while another patted her head. She sighed at the contact, not remembering when she last felt like this.

Definitely not any time around the end of her marriage.

Slowly she pushed out of his hold, taking the tissue off the counter to wipe her cheeks. "I'm so sorry..." her voice came out quiet and broken. "We just met again after so long, and the first thing I do is breakdown about my piece of shit ex-husband."

"Hey it's fine." Johnny pulled his seat closer and sat down, holding one of her hands in both his, smiling sympathetically. "Thing is, when I saw you tonight, my feelings that I thought were gone came back, and I thought I'd take a chance. But if you're still not ready for a relationship yet, I can wait."

She looked at him, shocked and confused by his words. "Why would you? For me? That's... not fair to you Johnny..."

He snickered shaking his head. "Then how about we stay in touch, for real. Keep up with each other from now on."

>>>

Her friends found her much later that night, but Johnny had left by then, and they had many mixed feelings about her interaction with him. Some saying break it off, others saying keep in touch, Joohyun in the end asked them to stop talking about it and that she needed some space. Truth was, after that episode of breaking down, she felt empty whenever something reminded her about her ex. Usually when reminded of him, she would experience sadness, pain in her chest.

But now as she walked past his favourite brand of coffee at the store, she felt nothing. A smile sneaked its way onto her face, and when she realised it she quickly walked away, weirded out by her own emotions. As she continued her grocery shopping, her phone dinged signaling an incoming message. She saw the name, and decided to just check it right away.

Johnny: hey, you free tomorrow?

hi, yea so far. why?

Johnny: lets hang out, meet me here [location attached]

It had been five days since their fated meeting, and since exchanging numbers, Johnny had texted her three times of simply asking how she was. Seeing this sudden invitation to hangout, she hesitated a little, thinking what could this mean. After a minute of mental debating, she huffed and decided to just go for it.

sure, what time?

Johnny: hows 4pm?

sounds good

Johnny: great! cant wait, bye

bye, see you

>

"OK, since it's a kinda last minute thing, go for casual." Sooyoung rummaged through Joohyun's closet, checking the clothes one by one. "Here, this top with white shorts would be perfect." she proceeded to pull out a green knitted top, full sleeved and cropped just a little, and some white jean shorts.

Joohyun stared at the selection, nodding without much expression and just proceeded to change while her friend continued to find matching jewellery and pick out the makeup. Her mind was too busy thinking about this meet up with Johnny, what were they doing, how would things go, why did he even ask her out like this.

She was sure after her breakdown he might not bother meeting someone still sad about a year old divorce, but now she was nervous actually seeing him again.

Not long after Joohyun was driving herself to the location Johnny had sent. She had checked and seen it was around the mall, so they must be going inside as she figured. Reaching the place, she parked the car and sent him a text announcing her arrival, and he immediately responded to meet in front of a specific restaurant inside.

Still confused, she followed his instructions, and soon saw Johnny standing in front of the place looking around as if to find her. Which was true because the moment he saw her, he smiled and jogged over.

"Glad you could make it." he gave her a quick hug, to which she responded trying not to think too much of it. "Come on, it's gonna be fun." he took her hand and tugged her along across the mall.

"Where are we going?" she finally asked.

"It'll be fun, trust me." he winked, and she smiled a little unsure in response. Though her expression immediately switched once he stopped in front of an arcade, both kids and adults buzzing around noisily adding on to the sounds already coming from the games and machines. "Ta-da!" Johnny waved his arms around.

"Uhm... games?" she didn't know how to react, but he could only laugh noticing her very confused state. He took her hand and headed inside, getting tokens for them, then dragging her to the basketball game.

"Hope you remember your moves."

From basketball, to air hockey, to some on screen fishing game, Joohyun mindlessly followed the man around playing more arcade games. One thing for sure she knew, she was oddly enjoying it all. After the fishing, he tugged her to the whack-a-mole game next and handed her the hammer.

"I'm not very good at this." Joohyun said, despite getting in position to play. Suddenly his body enveloped her from behind, hands holding the hammer over her own, and she was glad he wouldn't notice her flushed face.

"I'll help." she held in a shiver when hearing his low voice right next to her ear. Before she knew it, he had already moved her to hit one mole, and she quickly put her attention back on the game. "Just imagine the thing, or person, you hate the most as the moles."

She didn't know if there's was a hidden motive under his words, but the moment her mind visualised her ex-husband as the face on the animals, a sudden surge of tenacity filled up inside her and she started hitting the toys with the best precision and speed. Johnny's hands were no longer on hers, but instead he held her arms to keep her steady as she really took out her frustrations on the arcade game.

As the game ended, with the colourful lights blinking and red numbers showed her score, Joohyun released relaxed breaths as she realised how much tension had left her body.

"Damn, I wouldn't ever wanna get on your bad side." she turned to Johnny as he joked, clapping at her successful play. "Let's try one more thing, I have a couple of tokens left." he took her hand and guided her through the arcade in search for something to use up the remaining tokens, all the while Joohyun remained empty minded. It had been more than a year, and as much as she thought she was over the anger, today's actions proved her otherwise.

She looked up as they came to a halt I'm front of a bright white box. "Photo booth?" she said aloud when seeing all the pictures people had stuck. She turned to Johnny who shrugged, showing that it costed just enough to use up the last couple of tokens. Biting her lip, she let out a sheepish smile and nodded, glad he seemed happy as he pulled her in along with him.

They took three shots, and Johnny took his time carefully editing them adding stickers and quotes before letting them print two copies. He took them from the dispenser and showed Joohyun, who didn't realise how much she had been smiling until she saw the photo strips.

The last one they took, Johnny had an arm around her shoulder and their heads just touched. She remembered how spontaneous it was that it made her smile so much.

"This is a big keep." she looked at Johnny as he spoke, putting his strip into his wallet. She felt a weird tug in her chest noticing that, but thought nothing of it as they left the arcade. Although it still played in her mind continously as they ate a quick dinner, and when he walked her to her car, and even as she laid in bed at home, she couldn't erase the feeling she had when with Johnny the entire day.

>>>

For three months, Johnny had been calling her up and taking her out on spontaneous outings. She didn't know of she could classify these as dates knowing she set her boundary about not getting into relationships yet, and so far he's kept to it.

But every time Joohyun goes home, she finds herself thinking back to their time spent together and smiles to herself. She tried hard to snap out of it and suppress this weird feeling, but it never works as they're soon out together again for something as simple as lunch at a cafe. This night as she looked at herself in the mirror while doing her nightly routine, she thought about herself.

She hasn't felt this good in so long, she forgot when was the last time she put in the effort to look good on a daily basis. It made her feel good inside and out, seeing her nails done, her hair styled, and most importantly, her skin was back to its highest health.

All thanks to the company of one person.

"Are you sure about this?" she sighed hearing Seulgi's voice in the group call, along with Wendy and Sooyoung. "I just want you to make this a clear conscious decision. You're not looking for a rebound Joohyun, remember that, it'll only hurt you again."

"I know." Joohyun held her phone in her hand, her chat with Johnny opened for the past five minutes as she talked to her friends. "He's helped me throughout so much... even after I told him I'm not ready."

Wendy spoke up this time. "How about one date first Joo? And tell him exactly so. You wanna go on one date with him, and if it really ends well for you you'll continue the relationship."

"What if it doesn't?" the question Joohyun feared the most. "What if I don't like him that way, but I don't want to lose him at the same time..."

"You will." Sooyoung's determined voice caught her off guard. "Joo I've been dressing you almost every date, and trust me, I've never seen you this excited to meet someone before. Even with... you know." she cleared her throat, all girls knowing exactly what she meant.

Joohyun thought about it, and figured her friends were all right. All she had to do now was take the step and give this man a chance. Their feelings were pretty clear to her at least, all that's left was to see how he would treat her. Sighing, she finally typed away into the chat.

hey Johnny, would you like to go on a date Friday night?

Johnny: yes! dinner and dance?

"Wow he's fast..." she mumbled, loud enough for her friends to hear and laugh at how smitten this man seemed to be. She shushed them before continuing.

sure, how's 7pm?

Johnny: perfect! I'll pick you up then :D

>>>

Despite dressing up for all her previous outings with him, Joohyun still felt shy at her current choice. Or more like her friends' choices. Sooyoung picked her a short satin red dress with spaghetti straps, and a cropped black blazer over it. Seulgi picked for her black sandal heels wrapped around her ankle. Wendy finally added on tips for her makeup and hair, all kept simple yet sultry.

They knew exactly what Joohyun liked, and she was glad their help made her look and feel confident. But all that confidence washed away the moment she received Johnny's call that he was waiting downstairs. Taking a last glance at herself, and a few deep breaths to calm, she headed down to the elevator to meet him in front of her apartment.

The moment she stepped out of the building she caught Johnny standing outside his car, staring intently at her. She bit her lip, and grabbed her purse strap tighter as she slowly made her way to him.

"Wow." Johnny awed, eyes studying hers as she stopped in front of him and smiled back shyly. "You look great." he carefully held her hand, eyeing her expressions, before suddenly dipping down and left a soft lingering kiss on her cheek. "Hope that's OK?" he whispered pulling away, to which she quickly smiled and nodded.

They headed out for dinner at a fancy restaurant, throughout which Johnny had been the most gentlemanly she had experienced from anyone. He helped her with her chair, let her order first, and even pick their wine. As they spoke, she noted how he'd attentively listen to her, reacting when needed, and whenever he spoke he would maintain eye contact with her.

Everything about him captivated her.

And a dinner date felt too boring for her to spend time with him. As they finished eating, Joohyun set her cutlery down and looked up at him.

"Johnny." she called, to which he hummed in response, a little nervously albeit. "Shall we go to a bar after this? Maybe the one we met?"

"All of a sudden?" he chuckled, confused by her sudden plan.

Joohyun nodded enthusiastic. "I really like spending time with you, and I feel like it would be fun for us, if you'd like to I mean." she watched his expression as he seemed to think through, relieved when he smiled and nodded.

To his entertainment, Joohyun was quick to start enjoying herself as she made her way to the dance floor upon entering the bar. Johnny got them drinks, and once finishing it, he placed both their empty glasses back at the counter, all the time keeping her close within his sight.

"Come on Johnny!" he laughed as his date grabbed his hand and pulled him closer to the crowd, before she started waving herself around. He couldn't believe this was the same woman who was all shy before, and loved every bit of her fun side as he did her normal.

Joohyun couldn't have been any happier. She couldn't remember the last time she had so much fun with a man. As far as she could remember, her ex wasn't someone who enjoyed such things, meaning she had to cut back on wild parties with her friends way before they even got busy. But with Johnny, she couldn't stop smiling watching him match with her energy, while also making sure she was safe in her spot.

At some point she spun around so fast, she tripped and bumped right into him, Johnny catching her with his body and arms as they both shared a laugh. She knew she was intoxicated, but not so much to miss the look in his eyes as she stared at him in a daze. He had his arms around her waist while her hands held his shirt, and suddenly she felt all warm and fuzzy.

Johnny was definitely caught of guard when she suddenly relaxed into his hold, leaning herself against his chest as her arms went around his torso. He didn't mind it though, instead he was glad she felt safe and comfortable in his arms as she hummed when he moved them side to side to the music.

He chuckled when feeling her weight getting heavier against him. "Alright, wild girl, let's get you home. Hmm?" he waited until she nodded against his chest, and gently scooped her up in his arms before heading out to his car. He sat her in and buckled her up before getting in himself and driving back to her apartment, where he carried her on his back up to her door. "Passcode?"

"Five... two... six... five..." she mumbled against his neck, and he shook his head laughing as he put in the numbers and went through the door.

He took his shoes of first, then hers, then entered until the living room where he finally put her down to stand. "Alright, where's your room? You should wash up before going to bed." he instructed her, but was met with a sleepy pout and head shake.

"I don't wanna..." she pushed off his hands and stumbled to the couch. "Too tired..."

"Oh Joohyun." the man shook his head, both disappointed and humoured by her behaviour. He decided to just make her stand himself, figured out which was her bedroom, then pushed her towards it, and to the bathroom. "Alright, I'll stand right here, and you get washed first. No sleeping until you're cleaned."

With a whine, Joohyun shut the door, and he sighed in relief when hearing the water running. Johnny really did stand at the door, smiling to himself as he wondered how much he loved this woman. He wasn't going to admit it just yet, knowing it was too soon for either of them, but he already knew he did. After all those makeshift dates, and today's real one that turned so wild and fun, he couldn't help think about the woman on the other side of the door being one of a kind to him.

And he loved anything one of a kind.

The door opened, and he looked to see she had changed into her pyjamas that she left in her bathroom earlier that day. "There we go, fresh and clean." he held her face and squished it, laughing when she furrowed her brows at him. "Go on, get in bed."

"Wait..." she stopped him pushing her, suddenly holding both his hands. Johnny looked at her, confused by the sudden shift in her mood as she stared back nervously. "Will you... stay the night?"

Even more caught off guard, Johnny for the first time staggered. "Do you, uhm, want me to? Or not?" he asked. Joohyun looked down, biting her lips, before looking back up and nodded. "Sure then, if you're alright with it." he took her hand again and lead her to her bed, helping her get in and tucking her in her blanket. He wasn't sure what to do himself, so just sat on the empty side next to her, when she patted the other pillow.

"You can lay here..." she mumbled sleepily, to which he nodded and laid down next to her. "Thank you for everything Johnny..." she spoke through a sleepy smile.

Johnny smiled back, turning onto his side to face her, his hand unconsciously tracing the sides of her face. "I'm glad you had a great time." he whispered, keeping his voice low so as to not break her trance.

"I'm sorry it took me so long..." his smiled disappeared at her words, confusion and worry displayed instead. "I know it was unfair to you... but you made me realise I was still hanging onto the anger... and you helped me leave it... I feel ready to move on with my life, with you..."

Even in her sleepy daze, Joohyun noticed the surprised look on his face with his brows raised, causing her to smile lazily as she stretched her back and suddenly shifted closer to him. Johnny's hand on her face remained, this time combing through her hair.

She looked at him a little seriously. "Are we on the same page?" she asked, her eyes like a doe's.

"On what?"

"I can't guarantee how soon... but I like you, a lot... enough to maybe get married?" a sudden lump stuck in her throat. "But I'm scared... if you're not with me... or if the same thing happens again..."

Johnny didn't know how to react. He did think this far into his future, but it was more of a what if thing than serious consideration. Now knowing she had similar thoughts changes everything. They were both old enough to make these decisions with complete assurance, and he did want to settle down soon himself.

He cupped her face, rubbing his thumb against her cheek. "Sleep Joohyun. You're drunk and sleepy, you'll need a clearer head for these things." he smiled, pinching her cheek to keep her from getting sad before he continued.

"But I do promise, if when you're ready, I'll be there for you. I'd be a lucky man to marry someone like you. And I promise I'd never do anything to hurt you. Anyone who betrays a person they've made a commitment to are assholes, and don't deserve someone as amazing as you."

With a smile, and a tear welling in her eye, Joohyun finally shut her eyes and within a minute was fast asleep. Unable to help himself, Johnny left a soft kiss on her forehead before closing his eyes as well, his hand still cupping her face, a few last thoughts about the woman in front of him circling his mind.

Especially how he can't wait for her to progress even further, and he'd be there for her every step of the way and in the end.

>>>

Hello anon! I was honestly excited cuz it's my first time getting a JohnRene request so thank you for that😊 I hope you enjoyed the story, tho ngl I myself found the ending a little lacking, so maybe a part2?🤔 idk yet but if ur up for it lmk hahah again thank you for the request & I hope you liked it❤️

[aernergy]

omg we need pt 2!!

Irene X Reader: Stupid Human

shakespeare would be dead on the floor if he saw how good this was~@seullovesme

Tags: Tsundere, Genie Irene(she just reached through the screen and slapped me for calling her a genie)

There were 3 things you knew were absolute in this world, the chapter you did not study will be tested, the mitochondria is the powerhouse of the cell, and that if you made it out of this alive, Jimin was going to kill you. With a sack of potatoes, all the while telling you that she had told you so. “Stop walking home at night yourself.” She’d insist. You nodded in faux agreement, mostly to placate your best friend. Listen, Taxis are expensive, and you’d gotten self defence training, not just that, you kept a pepper spray on you, an item that Jimin seemed to have in spades. See, it’ll be fine.

Except, yeah. No. The so-called universe clearly had other ideas, because here you were, hands tied, a thick, uncomfortable blindfold over your eyes, and the scent of incense hanging around you like a curse. The blindfold ripped off with a tug, and there they were: three figures in dark robes, all with candles, strange charms, and enough assorted witchy knick knacks to look like a shitty halloween costume. Bound by a chalk-drawn circle on the cold stone floor, you realised the truth. You’d been kidnapped. By a cult.

Of course you had.

"I know, I know," you muttered under your breath, almost amused despite it all. Of course they were a cult. That’s just your luck. “Honestly, blame the author. Cliche little shit.”

“Hey, umm, fellas, can we talk this out?” You look around, trying desperately to get one of the cultists to look at you, but to no avail. “Let us begin.” The one most clad in regalia spoke, the other two nodding, as they began to chant softly.

You look at them in light amusement, despite the predicament you found yourself in. This all seemed ridiculous. This stuff didn’t exist. As if the world was on an agenda to prove you wrong today, from a small amulet lying on the table emerged a smoky figure, a cute but seemingly sinister smile on her face as her arms stayed close. Seeing the figure emerge, the three cultists immediately bowed down. “Who awakens me from my slumber.” The deep and husky voice of the figure boomed, her voice as smooth as velvet and twice as dangerous. “Oh exalted one, we bring you this fine sacrifice as an offering for your great power.” The main cultist spoke.

Sacrifice. Yeah, that word did not sound good. Panicking, your mind began to whir, neurons firing, trying as hard to think of something, a way to get out of this. “Wait! May I speak?” You quickly say, forcing the words from your mouth. All three cultists glared at you like they wished they’d gagged you sooner, one of them even moving to push you down. But with a snap of her fingers, the spirit stilled them, her gaze settling on you, curious and amused. “Speak.” “Oh exalted one, I bring you these 3 cultists as an offering for your great power.” You quickly say. There was a beat where you weren’t sure she’d respond at all, and then, she laughed—a low, husky chuckle that filled the room. “I accept.” She said, fingers snapping once again, the 3 cultists disappearing, the ropes around your wrist going free.

The spirit stood with her arms crossed, watching you with a gaze that was sharp but softened at the edges. She tilted her head, considering you, and then gave a faint, almost reluctant sigh, as if this entire situation had been some unnecessary hassle she couldn’t quite bring herself to resent.

“Well,” she said slowly, as if choosing her words carefully, “I guess you did offer those cultists. So, I owe you.” She paused, the hint of a smirk at the corner of her mouth. “Three wishes. Don’t get too excited.” Her tone was cool, but there was a flicker in her eyes—curiosity, maybe, or the barest hint of a smile she hadn’t meant to let slip. Her arms dropped from their crossed position, one hand falling casually to her side, as if relaxing just enough to test the waters.

“So,” she continued, studying you with a mix of amusement and intrigue, “what’s it going to be? ”

You raised an eyebrow. “A little excited, aren’t we?”

A tiny snort escaped her, and she gave you a look somewhere between exasperated and amused. “It’s my duty, I don’t have a choice… but I’ll admit, you’re… a little more interesting than most of the mortals who’ve tried summoning me before.”

You couldn’t help but grin, sensing you were maybe, just maybe, getting through her walls. “Guess that’s something, right?”

She rolled her eyes but didn’t argue. “So,” she said again, her voice a touch less frosty, “let’s hear it. What’s your first wish?”

You raised your hands, giving her a quick shake of your head. “Look, Genie woman-” “I’m not a genie! And call me Irene.’ Irene said almost indignantly

“Alright, Irene, I appreciate the offer, but I don’t actually need any wishes,” you said, surprised at your own words even as they came out. “I mean, sure, it’d be nice to have a few things, but I don’t want to get into any of this business.”

Her eyes widened slightly, as if she couldn’t believe what she was hearing. “Excuse me?” she replied, her voice cool but laced with an edge of irritation. “You dragged me out of slumber, and now you’re… passing on your wishes?”

You shrugged, feeling strangely casual despite her intense stare. “In my defence, I didn’t wake you, the cultists did. And in the end, you got the cultists; I got to walk out of this situation without a scratch. So, no harm, no foul?”

She let out a frustrated sigh, pinching the bridge of her nose. “It’s not that simple.” Her voice softened, but you could still hear the exasperation there. “Without the wishes, I’ll be… bound to you.” Her cheeks flushed a faint pink, which she tried to hide by looking anywhere but at you. “Until your wishes are granted, I can’t sever the connection. It’s… an inconvenient rule.”

You paused, processing that, and she gave you an indignant look.

“Before you get any ridiculous ideas,” she added, her tone defensive, “this isn’t some arrangement I chose. It’s an ancient pact, one I’m obligated to follow.” She shifted uncomfortably, almost as if she were embarrassed to admit it. “So, if you have any decency, you’ll make your three wishes and let me be on my way.”

“Oh, I didn’t realise it was that serious,” you replied, trying not to smile at how put out she seemed. 

“Can’t I wish for your freedom?” 

“For the last time, I’m not a genie!” Irene said, her indignation now in full force

“So if I don’t make these wishes… you’re stuck with me?”

Her jaw clenched, her eyes narrowing. “Unfortunately, yes. And trust me, the last thing I need is to spend my time… babysitting a stupid human.”

There was a faint, grudging warmth to her tone, like she was trying to convince herself she didn’t mind either way. And maybe, just maybe, she wasn’t entirely against the idea. But the flash of vulnerability was gone in an instant, and she folded her arms, looking at you with an expectant glare.

“Well, give me some time to think about it, is that okay?” You ask with a sheepish smile.

“Fine, but you’d better not make me wait.” Irene grunted, rolling her eyes before she snapped her fingers, her form turning to mist, absorbed into a spiral, flying towards the amulet.

You stared at the amulet dumbfoundedly, scratching your head. This was going to be a tough sell in therapy

“Finally here to make your first wish?” Irene grumbled as she appeared in a swirl of smoky tendrils. But when she took in the sight of you—cross-legged in a bright blue monster onesie, surrounded by enough snacks to feed a village, her confident smirk immediately faltered.

Her gaze swept over the scene, and she raised an eyebrow, scoffing. “What is all this? Some weird human ritual? Or are you trying to summon a spirit with all this… junk food?”

You rolled your eyes, catching the way her lips twitched in what might have been amusement. “No, no, nothing like that. Jimin was supposed to come over for a sleepover, but she got called into work at the last minute. And… Well, the food was for her. She eats like a bear.”

Irene huffed, crossing her arms with a look of supreme indifference. “And that concerns me why?”

“Well…” you looked up at her, trying out your best pleading eyes. “I was hoping maybe you’d help me out with it?”

“Help you out?” She arched an eyebrow, her look turning sceptical. “Let me get this straight. You’re going to waste one of your precious wishes… on food?”

You nodded, trying not to laugh. “It’s my wish, right? So technically, I can do whatever I want with it?”

She crossed her arms, lips pursed, clearly torn between annoyance and disbelief. “Fine, whatever,” she muttered, snapping her fingers. “But don’t blame me if you regret it.”

With a flash, her elaborate robes transformed into soft, striped pyjamas in muted blues and browns, her hair pulled back in a neat braid, with a scrunchie around her wrist. She looked down, then let out an irritated huff, tugging at her sleeves as if they were a personal affront.

“Um… what exactly are you doing?” you asked, biting back a laugh.

She scowled, face flushing slightly. “Look, you weren’t specific, okay? So this is what you get. I’m ‘dealing with the food,’ just like you asked.” She added the last part in a mumble, like she was thoroughly unimpressed with herself, her indignation less befitting of a supernatural power and more fit of a teenage girl stuck at home, eliciting a chuckle from you

“Uh-huh. Well… have a seat,” you said, patting the couch beside you. “And, for the record, you look amazing.”

Irene went rigid, her cheeks taking on a noticeable pink hue as she shot you a glare. “D-Don’t say dumb things like that! It’s not like I dressed up to impress you, okay? Besides, I’m a supernatural being, of course I look amazing” she snapped, but despite her protest, she slowly sat down beside you, folding her arms and turning her face away.

You just chuckled, hitting play on the remote.

A few minutes into the movie, you noticed Irene sneaking little glances at the screen. She was practically rolling her eyes at every line, but you could tell she was getting into it, her lips starting to move along to the songs.

“Seriously? Aladdin?” she asked, voice laced with mock disdain. “I’m not a genie, you know.”

“Hey, I just wanted a way to explain you to Jimin. Aladdin was the closest thing I could think of.”

“Ugh, whatever.” Irene groaned, lying down as the movie started. As the movie played, you couldn’t help but chuckle. Irene wasn’t fooling anybody. She was acting like she’d rather be anywhere but here, but she was the one humming the songs, the one bobbing her head. She seemed almost human. “What’re you looking at, stupid human.” She mumbled the last part, blushing, clearly realising that she had been caught. “Nothing, nothing, you just look really cute like that.” “Shut up!” Irene grumbled

When the movie finally ended, she cleared her throat, fixing you with a glare that was more defensive than angry. “Alright, I have to know—why would you waste a wish on something this ridiculous? You have all this power, and you just… use it on snacks?” She sounded incredulous, as if your choice was somehow a personal offence to her.

You shrugged, the humour fading from your voice. “I don’t know… I just think this kind of power doesn’t belong in anyone’s hands. ‘Absolute power corrupts absolutely,’ right? I don’t think anyone ever did the world any good by trying to play god.” “That’s….new. Most of the people who used my powers just used it for their own selfish gain, but you’re different.” Irene pondered “Well, like you said, I’m an interesting mortal.” You quipped with a smile. “Stupid, but an interesting mortal.” Irene grunted. “So how does this go, does the wish just consume itself.” “Well, no, you need to say, my first wish has been granted.” Irene explains. “Alright, umm, my first wish has been granted.” You say, causing Irene to slip back into the amulet

You’d been pacing your room for nearly an hour, turning over your next wish in your mind. You were conflicted on this one. On the one hand, you didn't want to make wishes that were just made to benefit you, but…on the other hand, how much harm could this wish be? And this got Irene one step closer to being unbound from you anyways

In a swirl of smoke, Irene appeared, arms crossed, her gaze flicking over you with that ever-present mixture of annoyance and exasperation. "Another wish already?" she drawled, her voice dripping with boredom. "This had better be important. I’m busy."

You winced a little at her tone but pressed on, determined. “I—uh—I’ve got my high school reunion coming up, and, well... I don’t have a date. I was wondering if you could, you know, help out? Just, like, make sure I don’t show up looking like a total disaster?”

Irene raised an eyebrow, not a hint of sympathy in her expression. "So, let me get this straight. You want me to pretend to be your date? For a whole night? To keep up the charade for your high school buddies?" She scoffed, her voice thick with mockery. "Honestly, humans are so pathetic sometimes."

You shifted, feeling the familiar sting of her words, but held your ground. "I don’t need anything fancy. Just someone who won’t make me look like I’m still living in the basement."

Irene rolled her eyes. “Honestly, humans are so pathetic sometimes,” she muttered, but her gaze softened just a touch. With a deep sigh, she snapped her fingers, and in a swirl of light, her usual flowing robes were replaced by an elegant black dress, sleek and understated yet somehow breathtaking. Her hair was swept up in a loose, casual style, a few strands framing her face, and there was a faint flush on her cheeks as she looked you over with barely-concealed irritation.

“Wait,” you stammered, staring at her in surprise. “You… you’re my date?”

Irene scoffed, brushing an imaginary speck of dust from her shoulder. “What? You thought I’d conjure up some random person and just send you off? That’s not how this works,” she said, crossing her arms defensively. “I’m your wish, so I’m the one going.”

You struggled to keep a smile off your face, but she must have caught the glimmer of excitement in your eyes because she immediately turned away, feigning exasperation. “Don’t get any ideas. This is strictly for show,” she muttered.

The reunion venue buzzed with familiar faces and old classmates, some of whom you hadn’t seen since graduation. The moment you walked in with Irene on your arm, heads turned. Her cool, detached beauty drew immediate attention, and whispers trailed after you as people cast curious glances in your direction.

Irene’s expression remained perfectly unreadable, though you noticed her eyes darting around, subtly assessing the room with a hint of wariness. You leaned toward her, whispering, “See? You’re already the most intimidating person here.”

She huffed, but a small, self-satisfied smile tugged at the corner of her mouth. “Hardly a challenge, considering,” she murmured.

The reunion was in full swing, the laughter and chatter echoing around the grand ballroom as old friends and classmates reunited. Irene stood beside you, her presence commanding attention in a way that almost made you forget your nerves. She was cool and collected, her eyes scanning the room as if nothing could faze her.

“Everything okay?” you asked, still a little self-conscious as people gave you curious looks when they saw Irene on your arm. It was hard to ignore the whispers floating around.

Irene turned to you, her expression unreadable but softening just a fraction. “Why wouldn’t it be?” she asked, her tone casual but with a hint of something else—a little amusement at your discomfort. "People just like to gawk at anything different, don’t worry about it."

You nodded, unsure how to respond. It was obvious that she didn’t care about the stares. She never did. But you weren’t quite as unaffected. Still, the fact that she was here with you helped ease the tension. In her presence, with her arm looped around yours, the room didn’t feel so intimidating.

The evening passed by in a blur, with Irene at your side, casually deflecting people’s attempts to engage with her with a polite but icy tone. Her reactions ranged from curt one-liners to complete disinterest, but something about the way she carried herself made everyone respect the boundaries she set. They knew better than to push.

You caught up with some old friends, and every now and then, Irene would lean in close, offering a dry comment or two. When someone mentioned an awkward moment from high school, she would casually toss out a sarcastic remark that left the group laughing in spite of themselves. It felt almost like she was part of the conversation, even though her presence remained otherworldly.

It was when the slow music started playing, and the floor cleared a little, that Irene surprised you. She didn’t flinch when you tentatively extended your hand, as if she hadn’t even thought about it. “You’re going to make me look bad, aren’t you?” she said with a raised eyebrow, her lips curling just slightly.

You couldn’t tell whether she was teasing or genuinely reluctant. But either way, you didn’t have the courage to let the moment pass. You gently took her hand, feeling the softness of her skin and the coolness of her touch. “Just for the night,” you said quietly.

Irene nodded, the faintest hint of a smile tugging at her lips. “Fine,” she muttered, but you saw the look in her eyes. There was something real there, a quiet warmth that surprised you. Something that said she didn’t mind it as much as she let on.

The music drifted through the room, the melody slow and soft, and you both swayed to it with an ease you didn’t expect. It wasn’t a grand, ballroom dance—just the quiet movements of two people trying to blend in.

Irene’s grip on your hand was firm but relaxed, her other hand lightly resting on your shoulder. The faintest glow of the room’s dim lights made the curves of her face softer than usual, and for the first time, she didn’t look like she was trying to escape.

“You’re not half-bad at this,” she said quietly, her voice almost a whisper as her gaze met yours. The teasing edge was gone, replaced by something else—something almost vulnerable. “You should get used to it. People will start thinking we’re a real couple.”

You tried not to let her words throw you off guard, but a small smile tugged at the corners of your mouth. “Is that so?” you teased, feeling a little emboldened. “Would that bother you?”

For a split second, Irene’s eyes flickered with something you couldn’t place—something deeper, more genuine—before she straightened, letting the mask fall back into place. “Don’t get any ideas,” she said firmly, though there was a softness to her voice that didn’t quite match the sharpness of her words. “This is all for show.”

You wanted to laugh but held it in, not wanting to break the fragile moment between you, though you had to admit, you’d been enjoying yourself, and hearing that it was all for show hurt a little. Instead, you just nodded. "Of course," you murmured, your eyes lingering on hers. She quickly averted her gaze, but there was still a softness there that hadn’t been there before.

For the next few moments, you both continued to sway together, caught in the rhythm of the music. You could feel the tension between you, the space between what she wanted to be and what she was allowing herself to feel.

And then, just as the song was about to end, Irene squeezed your hand—a fleeting touch that almost felt like an accidental intimacy. Her gaze met yours for the briefest moment, a look that spoke volumes, but she quickly pulled away, her cool, aloof demeanour returning in full force.

“Don’t get any ideas,” she muttered again, but the glimmer of a smile was still present, hidden behind her usual sarcasm. 

You watched her for a moment, noting the pink in her cheeks that she was desperately trying to ignore. “Thanks, Irene,” you said, your voice soft but sincere.

She rolled her eyes and took a step back. “Whatever. You’re welcome.” Irene said, unable to contain a blush as she looked away

The rest of the night passed in a similar rhythm. Well, you hoped it would, but clearly not.

As the night wore on, the buzz of the reunion picked up, and more familiar faces came and went. The wine flowed freely, and the tension between past and present felt less like a weight and more like a strange mix of nostalgia and regret. You were starting to relax, enjoying the unexpected camaraderie of having Irene by your side. It had become clear she wasn’t just tolerating the evening anymore—she was leaning into it, in her own subtle way. Her usual sarcastic quips were still there, but they had a bit more warmth, a bit more playfulness.

It was then that the moment you’d been dreading—Jackson—finally made his appearance.

You hadn’t seen him in years, but it didn’t take more than a few seconds for him to spot you. His face twisted into that familiar smug grin, the one you’d spent high school trying to avoid. He sauntered over, drink in hand, his eyes immediately darting to Irene. It only took him a moment to size her up, his grin widening into something far too pleased with himself.

“Well, well, well…” He looked at you first, then back at Irene, his gaze lingering longer than it should have. “What do we have here? I didn’t think you’d ever get a date for this thing, but, well, it seems you’ve outdone yourself.”

You tried to keep your expression neutral, but the old sting was still there, the reminder of high school’s worst moments rising to the surface. He wasn’t just an ass, he was an expert ass—a master at making people feel small.

Irene, however, didn’t flinch. Her eyes flicked over him, cool as ever. But the way her lips twisted, just slightly, into something that wasn’t exactly amusing caught you off guard. She wasn’t about to let him ruin your night. She wasn’t about to let anyone do that.

“So,” Jackson continued, taking a step closer to Irene with a suggestive grin, “did you get roped into this too, or are you the one with the real taste in men? Because, I gotta say” He motioned toward you, still grinning like he had the upper hand. “You could do a lot better.”

You tensed, but before you could say anything, Irene stepped in, her voice suddenly colder than the temperature of the room.

“Excuse me?” she cut in sharply, her tone dangerously sweet. “You think I’m here because I was roped into it?” She looked him over like she was inspecting a particularly repulsive insect. “No, darling, I’m here because I wanted to be. I wouldn’t waste my time with someone like you if I were paid to. And trust me,” she added, her voice turning slightly mocking, “I can do better than someone who thinks their charm is something worth showing off.”

The asshole’s smug expression faltered just slightly, his confidence wavering. “You can’t seriously think—” he began, but Irene cut him off again, her voice sharper than a whip.

“Oh, but I do.” Her eyes flashed with an icy intensity that made him take a step back. “But here’s the thing, buddy—you might want to look in a mirror and reconsider who’s really the joke here.” She smiled, but it wasn’t a pleasant smile. It was the kind of smile that made people feel small. “I’m here, because I want to be here, and there is no one else I’d rather be here with. You talk a big game, but you’re just a sad sack, at least Y/N is a good person, someone who doesn’t make me want to smoothen out my ears with sandpaper”

Jackson blinked, clearly stunned by her words. He opened his mouth to respond, but Irene didn’t give him a chance. Her voice, calm and controlled, broke through the tension like a blade.

“If you’re really trying to flirt with me,” she continued, “you might want to step up your game. You might have been cute back in high school, still I doubt it, never had a thing for bullies with a Napoleon complex bigger than their little peanuts, but now? Well, it’s clearer now that nothing about you’s changed. You’re still the same pathetic little boy trying to prove something that doesn’t matter.”

His face turned a shade of red you couldn’t quite describe. He opened his mouth again, stammering, but no words came out. Finally, he turned on his heel, muttering something under his breath before practically running away.

You stood there, blinking in shock, your heart pounding in your chest. That had been… unexpected. Irene was usually so detached, so indifferent, that seeing her actually stand up for you—really stand up for you—felt different 

She stood there for a moment, arms crossed, her usual confident mask still in place. But when she turned to you, her eyes softened for just a moment, concern, care, maybe even a tinge of affection, all wrapped in one, just enough that you could see the faintest glimmer of something like… pride?

“You’re not a complete disaster, you know,” she said quietly, looking at you as if she were trying to convince herself more than anything. “That guy was pathetic, but you? You’ve got more going for you than you think.”

You blinked, not entirely sure how to respond. “Thanks,” you said after a beat, your voice soft but full of sincerity.

She rolled her eyes, the typical Irene sarcasm flooding back. “Yeah, well, I wasn’t about to let him run his mouth. Someone had to shut him down.” Her gaze flickered briefly to the spot where Jackson had since retreated, and she smirked. “Honestly, he deserved it. Can’t believe people like that still exist.”

You could see her trying to hide the fact that she did care, that she hadn’t just defended you out of duty. But the way her gaze lingered on you for a second too long gave it away.

“Let’s just get out of here,” she muttered, her hand brushing yours as she moved to leave the crowd behind. But before you could walk away, she glanced over her shoulder. “And don’t think for one second I’m doing this for you. I’m only here because I’m bored. Remember that.”

Just as you were about to leave, however, you heard a soft song began to play. “May I have one last dance?” You asked, bowing your head as you extended your hand to Irene. Irene didn’t immediately respond, and for a moment, you thought she might dismiss you or make some sharp comment. But when you looked at her, you saw something else—something subtle in the way she relaxed, just a fraction. She sighed, eyes flickering from you to the floor and back again, and for the briefest moment, you saw that tiny spark of warmth she usually hid so well.

“Don’t make me regret this. You’re lucky I like this song.” she muttered, her voice soft but steady.

With a small, almost imperceptible smile, you led her to the centre of the ballroom. The music swelled around you, filling the space with a gentle rhythm as the two of you settled into the dance. The movement was slow, effortless—just the two of you, caught in a moment of quiet connection. Irene’s hand rested lightly on your shoulder, and hers in your hand was warm, soft, but her fingers still held that quiet, guarded strength that reminded you who she was.

Her gaze stayed just slightly averted, a faint blush colouring her cheeks. It wasn’t something you were used to seeing, and it made your heart skip a beat. You’d seen her icy exterior so many times, but here, in the privacy of this slow dance, there was something else—something less perfect, less guarded.

“I didn’t expect you to dance like this,” she said, her voice surprisingly soft, the teasing edge in her tone barely there. “I thought you'd be a disaster.”

You chuckled quietly, not wanting to break the delicate silence between you. “Well, I’m full of surprises.”

Her lips quirked, so subtle it was barely noticeable, like a wind in the storm. "I guess so." She shifted slightly, her other hand resting gently on your arm, her movements smooth, as though she was slowly letting go of her usual defenses. For a moment, you felt her melt into you, and it made your chest tighten with something you couldn’t quite place.

The song continued, and the two of you swayed in perfect rhythm, as though you’d done this a hundred times before. You couldn’t help but notice how close you were now, how every little movement seemed to draw her nearer. The smell of her perfume lingered in the air, warm and comforting, and you couldn’t resist stealing glances at her—just a quick look at the way her face softened in the quiet of the dance.

Irene’s gaze flickered toward the ground for a second, but when she looked back at you, it was with a rare, almost hesitant warmth. "I don't do this," she said, her voice almost a whisper. 

“Hmm?” You hum in curiosity as you continue to sway.

"Letting people close. But…"

"But?" you prodded gently, your heart thumping just a little faster.

Her eyes met yours again, and for the first time all night, you saw something different—a quiet acceptance, not of you, but of the moment. “But it’s not the worst thing.” She looked away quickly, her cheeks flushing a deeper pink now, but you caught a smile tugging at her lips.

You both danced in silence for a while, the music winding down, the world outside of the ballroom forgotten.  Her hand tightened around yours, just a fraction, as if to hold on to this fleeting moment, a moment she’d never admit to wanting.

As the final notes of the song drifted into silence, you weren’t ready to let go. So, you didn’t. You held her for just a little longer, letting the stillness of the moment settle between you. Her breath was steady, her chest rising and falling against yours, and you couldn’t help but let your eyes drift closed for a second. It felt peaceful—almost perfect.

But then, of course, Irene cleared her throat, breaking the moment with her usual sharpness. “Well, that wasn’t terrible,” she said, voice laced with sarcasm, though her tone was quieter than usual. “But don’t get any ideas. I’m not turning into some sentimental fool just because you managed to stand on your feet without tripping.”

You smiled at the playful edge in her voice. “I wouldn’t dream of it.”

Her lips twitched, the faintest sign of a smile, but she quickly masked it again. “Good. Let’s get out of here before you start thinking I actually enjoyed that.” But there was something in her voice—a softness beneath the teasing—that told you more than her words ever could.

As the two of you pulled away from the dance floor, the night seemed to fade into the background, replaced by a quiet understanding between you. Irene, despite all the walls she’d built around herself, had let a little bit of them fall tonight. And in that moment, with her hand still resting lightly in yours, you knew this was more than just a dance. It was the start of something new—something neither of you had expected, but both of you felt deep down.

But Irene? She would never say it. She simply looked at you, rolling her eyes, and muttered, "I’m not a damsel in distress, so don’t go getting any ideas about saving me, okay?"

You grinned, your heart full in a way it hadn’t been in a long time. “I’m not,” you replied, but the unspoken truth hung between you two—there was something here, something that went beyond what either of you would admit.

“Well, the night’s over.” Irene said, her usual matter of fact tone, but you sensed a lower, almost unspoken tone to her voice, as if she was almost disappointed. “Yeah, I guess it is. My second wish is granted.” You say, Irene vanishing back into the amulet. You rest your hand on the amulet, allowing your hand to linger. You hadn’t wanted Irene’s power, you still didn’t, but you had come to value her presence, and this night had just left you wanting for more. Too bad you only had one more wish left.

You let out a long sigh, stepping out of the shop with your groceries clutched in your hands. You had to make your last wish soon. It was always part of the plan—the last step, the one you had promised yourself to fulfil. It’s what you wanted at first, and it’s what Irene had said she wanted, too. But now that the moment had come, the hesitation clung to you like a weight around your chest.

You couldn’t shake the thought that something wasn’t right. After everything that had happened between you two—after everything you had gone through together—the idea of letting her go felt more and more like an impossible choice. She might’ve wanted her freedom, sure, but now that it was so close, you weren’t sure if you were ready for the finality of it.

Your footsteps echoed in the cool evening air as you walked, the weight of the decision pressing in. Distracted by your thoughts, you barely noticed the soft sound of footsteps trailing behind you. It was too quiet, too deliberate. Your heart skipped a beat as a cold shiver ran down your spine.

You glanced over your shoulder. Figures. Three men, walking too close. They emerged from the shadows with knowing grins, their eyes narrowing as they stared at your bags.

"Hey, you!" one of them shouted, his voice thick with menace as he sized you up. "Looks like you’ve got some nice bags there. Why don’t you hand ‘em over?"

You groaned. “Of course, first a kidnapping, then a mugging. The writer needs to get some new material.”

The leader stepped forward, his face twisting into a grin that made your stomach flip. "Shut it. Empty your pockets. Now."

The second man—tall, broad-shouldered—took a step closer, and the third, a wiry figure, pulled out a knife. The metal gleamed menacingly in the dim light, sending a chill down your spine. Your pulse quickened. This was bad. So bad.

You needed a way out. Anything.

Panic clawed at you, and before you knew what you were doing, you reached up to your chest, hand on the amulet resting on your neck. 

The air around you shifted. A swirl of light filled the street, and the men froze, confusion flashing across their faces. In the blink of an eye, Irene appeared, stepping into the scene with effortless grace. Her presence was like ice—cool, calculating, and impossibly beautiful. She didn’t even look at the men as she turned her sharp gaze toward them, her eyes narrowing in distaste.

"What do you think you’re doing?" Her voice was low, smooth, but underneath it was something far more dangerous. She didn’t move, only stood still, her cold stare cutting through the group.

The leader’s bravado faltered just for a second, but it was enough. He took a step back, eyes wide with fear. "What the hell are you supposed to be? A freak?" he spat, trying to sound tough despite the growing unease in his voice.

Irene didn’t even blink. Instead, she flicked her wrist. The knife in the leader’s hand was torn from his grip with a flick of her fingers, sent spinning across the pavement, clattering into the street. His face twisted with shock, eyes widening as he tried to comprehend what had just happened.

"Didn’t see that coming, did you?" Irene’s voice was syrupy sweet, dripping with sarcasm. She turned her attention to the second man without missing a beat. Before he could react, Irene was on him, her hand wrapping around his wrist in an iron grip. With one fluid motion, she twisted his arm behind his back and slammed him face-first into the pavement with brutal force.

The third man, seeing the others go down so easily, hesitated, his eyes darting around as if looking for a way out. But Irene was quicker. She raised a hand, and in an instant, the man was yanked off his feet, his body jerking toward her like a puppet on invisible strings. He flailed uselessly as she pulled him closer, her expression unchanging.

"Running?" Irene’s voice was dark with amusement. "How pathetic."

She lifted her hand higher, and with a final flick, she sent him crashing into a nearby dumpster with a sickening thud. The man groaned, crumpled against the metal, barely conscious but too dazed to fight back.

The leader was the last one standing, his face pale, eyes flicking nervously between Irene and his downed companions. Irene stepped forward, her gaze steady and dangerous. "You’re lucky I’m in a good mood," she said, her voice smooth and cold, "but you do not threaten my human."

The man stumbled backward, his legs trembling. But Irene didn’t let him get far. With a swift movement, she grabbed him by the collar, lifting him off the ground with a terrifying ease.

"Get out of here before I make you regret it," she warned, her voice colder than the air around you.

The man’s pride shattered as he scrambled to his feet, his resolve gone. He turned and fled, leaving his comrades behind, their groans the only sounds as they slowly regained their senses. Irene let him go, her shoulders relaxed but her eyes never leaving the spot where he had disappeared.

You stood there, still processing what had just happened. Your heart was hammering, your legs shaking slightly, but the adrenaline was slowly starting to wear off. You couldn’t believe what you’d just witnessed..

Irene turned to you, her usual cool mask still in place, but there was something different in her eyes. Something almost... soft. "I... I don’t know what to say. You just... saved me."

Her eyes flickered over to you, and she let out a sigh, her usual nonchalance slipping back into place. "Don’t get all sentimental," she muttered, crossing her arms in front of her. "It’s not like I did it for you."

You couldn’t help but laugh softly, a nervous sound, but a laugh all the same. The tension was melting away, replaced by a strange warmth. "I know. But still, thanks. You really... protected me."

Irene’s gaze flickered away, and her cheeks flushed just a little. "It’s not a big deal," she grumbled, the sharpness in her voice fading. "Just don’t go getting yourself mugged again. You’re a pain in the ass to deal with."

You chuckled softly, stepping closer. "I’ll try not to. Promise."

She shot you a sideways glance, a smirk tugging at the corner of her lips. "Yeah, you better."

The two of you walked in silence for a moment, the street around you quiet once again. The world felt a little less heavy now, your body still shaking but comforted by her presence.

You glanced down at your Amulet, then back at Irene. "I guess this is it, huh? My last wish?"

Irene froze. For a moment, she looked like she’d been struck by lightning. Her eyes widened, and she blinked, mouth parting as if she was about to say something but couldn’t find the words. Finally, she stammered, the icy coolness in her voice replaced by something... far less composed.

"That wasn’t a wish!" She snapped, her face flushed with embarrassment. "That was—! You—you didn’t wish for that! You’re—!"

You raised an eyebrow, a little surprised by her reaction. "But this is what you wanted, Irene. You're free now, right? Isn’t that what you wanted?"

Irene opened her mouth, then quickly shut it again, her face turning an even deeper shade of red. Her hands clenched, and in a flash, she bolted—vanishing into the amulet in a swirl of light, leaving you standing there, confused and left alone.

The apartment door slammed shut behind you, the sound echoing in your ears as you stood there, groceries still in hand. It had been weeks since you’d last seen your family, and you hadn’t been looking forward to this visit, but you couldn’t keep avoiding them. Not anymore. You took a deep breath, steadying yourself as you walked further into the dimly lit hallway of your childhood home. You had enough on your mind as it was, Irene having refused to emerge from the amulet

The place was just as you remembered—dusty corners, faded pictures on the walls, the smell of old furniture and lingering tension. You could feel it in the air before you even heard the voices.

"...You always do this, Mom. It's the same damn thing every time!" Your younger brother, Noah, yelled from the living room. "You never listen to anything I say. You just—"

"Noah, I told you, this isn’t a damn democracy! I’m the one who pays the bills here!" Your mother’s voice was strident, her temper rising as usual.

"You think you’re the only one who has problems, huh? You think it’s easy to get by in this house when everyone expects me to be some perfect kid?" Noah snapped back, his voice laced with bitterness.

The words hit you like a punch to the gut, dragging you back into memories you had long buried. The fighting, the yelling, the way they always pulled you into the middle of it. You’d spent your whole childhood walking on eggshells, trying to soothe the chaos, but it never worked. It never made them stop.

And now here you are again. As much as you tried to get away, you always ended up back here. The familiar pain crept back into your chest, an old wound reopening, threatening to consume you.

You swallowed hard, but the lump in your throat wouldn’t go away.

In the living room, your father’s voice cut through the argument, trying to mediate, but it was no use. His calm was as fragile as glass, and you knew it wouldn’t take much to shatter it. “Both of you need to calm down! This isn’t helping anyone!” he shouted, but no one listened.

You stood at the edge of the hallway, the tension in the air pressing down on you like a heavy weight. You wanted to go in. You wanted to be the peacekeeper, the one who fixed everything like you always did. But you could already feel the familiar panic creeping in, the suffocating sense of being caught in the middle. It was too much. It had always been too much.

You froze, the words slamming into you like a wave. The argument wasn’t directed at you, but it didn’t matter. The noise—sharp, accusatory, rising and overlapping—burrowed into your chest. It dragged you back, pulling you under, to a time you couldn’t seem to forget.

The yelling. The anger. The helplessness.

When you were a kid, this was the soundtrack to your life. You’d spent countless nights hiding under your blankets, trembling as the walls seemed to shake with their shouting. Even now, as an adult, the sound didn’t just echo in your ears—it lived in your body, burrowing into the spaces where fear and pain had carved out homes long ago.

The voices got louder, blending into one another until they were an unintelligible roar. Your hands tightened around the bag of groceries until the plastic handles bit into your skin, but it wasn’t enough to ground you. Your chest tightened, your breaths coming too fast, too shallow. The hallway around you seemed to blur, the walls closing in as your heart pounded harder, faster.

You couldn’t move. You couldn’t breathe.

And the worst part? You knew this would happen. You knew. But you came anyway, thinking this time would be different. It never was.

Your vision blurred as tears welled up, spilling hot and heavy down your cheeks. A small, broken sound escaped your lips—a plea, a whisper of desperation, before clutching your chest.

The words barely left your mouth before the air in front of you shifted. A sudden rush of cold, then a plume of silvery smoke, shimmering faintly in the dim light. From the haze, Irene emerged.

Her figure was unmistakable, her sharp eyes scanning the scene. The usual air of superiority that clung to her was still there, but it softened the moment her gaze landed on you. Her expression changed instantly, the sharp edges melting into something you’d rarely seen from her—concern.

“What’s happening?” Irene asked, her voice low but urgent as she crouched down in front of you. Her hands hovered near your shoulders, unsure for a moment, before finally settling there. “Hey. Look at me. What’s wrong?”

You couldn’t answer, couldn’t do anything but shake your head as the tears kept falling. Your breath hitched, caught in your throat, and you gasped, clutching at your chest.

“Shit,” Irene muttered, her voice tinged with panic. “Okay, okay. Listen to me. You’re safe. You’re okay. Just breathe. Can you do that for me? In through your nose. That’s it.”

Her hands moved to cup your face, her thumbs brushing away the tears streaking your cheeks. Her touch was cool, grounding, and her voice—low, steady—cut through the noise in your head like a lifeline.

“Focus on me,” she urged, her tone softer now. “Whatever’s happening out there doesn’t matter. None of it can touch you. You’re here. You’re with me. Just keep breathing.”

Bit by bit, the tightness in your chest eased. Your sobs turned into shaky breaths, though your shoulders still trembled under her steady hands.

When you finally managed to meet her gaze, her usual sharpness was gone. The Irene looking at you now was softer, her eyes filled with something warmer, more protective.

“They were yelling again,” you whispered hoarsely, your voice barely audible. “It just—it reminded me of when I was a kid. I couldn’t stop it then, and I still can’t... I just...”

Irene’s jaw tightened, her eyes flickering toward the muffled argument still raging in the living room. When she looked back at you, there was a quiet fury in her expression, like she’d burn the world down in an instant.

“You don’t have to stop it,” she said firmly. “You don’t have to fix it, or even deal with it. That’s not your job. And it’s sure as hell not worth tearing yourself apart over.”

She pulled you closer, her arm wrapping around you protectively. “Whatever this place took from you, it doesn’t get to keep taking. Not while I’m here.”

You leaned into her, the warmth of her words wrapping around you as much as her presence. For a long moment, you just let her hold you, her steady breaths anchoring you.

When the tension in your body finally eased, you pulled back slightly, meeting her gaze. “Irene...” you began, hesitating. “Why haven’t you taken my last wish yet? You just disappeared...”

Her expression softened, but only for a fleeting moment before she crossed her arms and glanced to the side, her cheeks faintly pink. “I—I didn’t disappear. I was... busy. Important genie things, you wouldn’t understand.”

Your brow furrowed. “Important genie things?”

“Yes. Very important,” she shot back, her tone defensive. “Unlike you, I don’t have the luxury of moping around all day.”

You tilted your head, a small, teasing smile forming despite yourself. “Irene, you’ve been avoiding me, haven’t you?”

Her blush deepened as she snapped, “Avoiding you? Don’t flatter yourself! Why would I avoid someone like you?” She turned her nose up, but the crack in her voice betrayed her.

“Then why?” you pressed gently, your gaze steady on her.

Irene hesitated, her sharp facade faltering as her eyes darted away again. She muttered something under her breath, too quiet for you to catch.

“What was that?”

“I said…” She huffed, her arms tightening over her chest as her blush spread down to her neck. “I didn’t want you to use up the wishes, okay? Are you happy now?”

You blinked, caught off guard. “You didn’t want me to use the wishes? But I thought you wanted to leave. To be done with humans. To be done with... me.”

Her eyes snapped back to yours, wide and flustered. “Wha—Why would you think that?! I never said that! Don’t just go putting words in my mouth, you idiot!”

Your grip on her forearm tightened, grounding her. “So you don’t want to leave?”

Irene froze, her lips pressing together before she let out a groan, dragging a hand through her hair. “Maybe—maybe it’s not so bad,” she admitted begrudgingly, her voice dropping to a mumble. “If it’s with you.”

The vulnerability in her tone caught you off guard, and you couldn’t help the small, teasing smile that tugged at your lips. “Of course. I’m your human, aren’t I?”

Irene’s eyes widened before her blush turned scarlet. She immediately buried her face in her hands with a muffled, “Oh my god, I can’t believe you heard that.”

“I did,” you said, unable to suppress a light chuckle.

“Don’t you dare read into it!” Irene snapped, lowering her hands just enough to glare at you. Her face was still bright red, her pout far more endearing than intimidating. “I am not some lovesick little puppy, got it? I’m still an all-powerful genie, and you—y-you’re just a ridiculous human who happens to need a lot of supervision, that’s all!”

“Whatever you say,” you replied, your tone soft as you leaned closer.

Her breath hitched as you reached out, cupping her face and pulling her in to press a gentle kiss to her forehead.

“W-What—” Irene spluttered, pulling back with a glare that was more flustered than furious. “What do you think you’re doing?! You can’t just—you can’t just go kissing me like that without warning!”

You grinned. “I thought you were all-powerful. Shouldn’t you have seen it coming?”

Her mouth opened, closed, then opened again as she struggled to find a retort. Finally, she turned away with an exaggerated huff, her arms crossed tightly over her chest.

“Ridiculous,” she muttered, her voice quieter now. “Completely ridiculous.”

“Not bad for a stupid human, aren’t I?” You tease, hugging Irene tightly

Irene rolled her eyes, but by now, she could do little to stave off the smile on her face. Seungwan would laugh at her, of that she had no doubt, but you were her stupid human now. And she didn’t mind it.

[aernergy]

Irene Imagines - Fight?

You sat at the dinner table, staring at the cold food in front of you. Irene had promised to be home for dinner, but as the hours ticked by, you realized she wasn't going to make it. You had planned this dinner for weeks, hoping for a rare evening amidst the chaos of Irene's demanding schedule.

Just as you were about to give up and clean up, you heard the front door open. Irene walked through the front door, her movements heavy with exhaustion. She glanced at the clock, her heart sinking. It was well past dinner time. She could already feel the tension in the air.

You sat at the kitchen table, your eyes filled with disappointment and hurt. "You promised me you'd be home for dinner, Irene," you said, trying to keep your tone neutral.

"I know, baby. I'm so sorry I'm late," she said, dropping her bag on the floor. "Practice ran way longer than expected. I'll make it up to you next time."

"That's what you always say," you replied, standing up and pushing your chair back with more force than intended. "I'm tired of you making empty promises just for me to be left alone like this."

Irene's expression turned defensive, her voice rising as the argument escalated, each of you voicing your frustrations louder.

"It's not like I enjoy coming home late! Do you think I wanted this? You know I'll be busy, especially during our comeback. It's a big deal for us, and I need to make sure everything is perfect." She exclaimed.

"I know that," you said, your patience growing thin. "Can't you just prioritize me for once? All I'm asking is for one dinner together, Irene!" you retorted, your voice trembling with a mix of anger and sadness.

Irene furrowed her brow, "It's only one dinner Y/N. Don't make a big deal out of it."

"One dinner out of countless that you've missed! Can't you just take a break sometimes?"

Irene mumbled underneath her breath, "It's not that easy." Clearing her throat she started again but louder, "Can't you see that I've had a long day? I'm exhausted Y/N, can we not do this right now?"

Your eyebrows raised in shock at her audacity, "Do you even realize how exhausting it is to spend hours preparing dinner only to be left waiting for you? Can't you see how tired I am, Irene?"

The room fell into a heavy silence. She opened her mouth to respond but faltered, struggling to find the right words. "Forget it," you said, your voice laced with anger as you stormed out of the kitchen, a part of you longed for her to follow, to apologize, but pride and hurt kept you moving towards the guest room.

Irene watched you leave, her shoulders slumping. Feeling guilty, she wanted to follow, to make things right, but her pride kept her rooted to the spot. Instead, she went to your shared bedroom, the silence loud. She felt guilty for letting you down, and frustrated for not being able to find the right words to make you understand. She tossed and turned, replaying the argument in her head, the other half of the bed empty as the chill of the room engulfed her.

The night was restless for both of you. By morning, Irene decided to take the first step towards making it up to you. She woke early, making her way to the kitchen, determined to show her love through actions this time.

As you walked into the kitchen, the smell of coffee and freshly cooked pancakes greeted you. Irene looked up, a hopeful smile on her face. "Good morning," she said, trying to keep her tone cheerful.

You barely glanced at her, your heart still heavy with the previous night's argument. "Morning," your tone flat, moving to pour yourself a cup of coffee.

Irene's smile faltered, but she pressed on, desperate to bridge the gap between you. "I made pancakes, your favorite. Do you want some?"

"No thanks," you said coldly, sitting down at the table and turning your attention to your phone.

Her smile faded, and she bit her lip, her eyes dropping to the floor. The silence between you was unbearable, opposite to the bright mornings you used to share. Irene tried to make small talk, commenting on the weather and asking about your plans for the day, but each attempt was met with a one-word response or a dismissive shrug.

Frustration and sadness gnawed at her. She realized that her small talk wasn't working. Taking a deep breath, Irene decided to apologize.

"I know you're still upset, and you have every right to be," she said, her voice trembling slightly. "I'm really sorry for the fight and for making you feel like you're not a priority. I need to do better, and I promise I will."

You looked up from your phone, the sincerity in her voice catching you off guard. You still felt a bit hurt from last night, but when you looked at Irene, her eyes were filled with sincerity and genuineness.

The kitchen was silent for a moment. You took a deep breath, processing Irene's apology. "I just feel like I'm always waiting for you," you said, your voice soft but laced with hurt. "Waiting for you to finish rehearsal, waiting for you to finish recording. It feels like I'm ignored sometimes."

Irene's heart clenched at your words. She could see the pain in your eyes, and it hurt her to know she had caused it. "I'm so sorry," she said, her voice wavering. "I never meant to make you feel that way. I know I haven't been there for you like I should be."

You looked at her, seeing the sincerity in her eyes. It was clear that she was genuinely sorry and wanted to make things right. Your heart still heavy, but beginning to soften, you took a deep breath.

"Irene, I love you, and I don't want to keep holding onto this anger. I forgive you."

Irene smiled, "Thank you. I promise I'll make more time for us."

She moved around the table, enveloping you in a tender embrace and nestling her face into your neck. You closed your eyes, feeling the warmth you had missed so much.

[aernergy]

AND WE ALL CELEBRATED AND CHEERED!!!!

YOU DON'T KNOW MY NAME

# 46. cowabunga

masterlist | next

taglist: @winieter @silantryoo @luvjanexx @perfectsunlight @pandamiswifey @jeindall777 @jimanie @sapphicmemos @slowlydifferentbluebird @jjuncidio @awkwardtoafault @gfriendsapple @cwpiqwon @nasyu-kookies @justme-idle @mightymyo @archerheejin @yoontoonwhs @jenscx @captivq @urfriendlylocalidiot @juhyunsthirdwife @eccobe @uzumakioden @dni-unavailable @jisooftme @pandafuriosa60 @ehcyps @lyninabin @sewiouslyz @ryujinbrat @ky-yk @orchestralbeats @ludasgf @blooming--warrior @blue4hour

[aernergy]

CLIFF HANGERRRR NOOOO

YOU DON'T KNOW MY NAME # 45. you

masterlist | next

SUMMARY ⤻ irene was a private influencer and y/n was an avid follower. you were extremely open about your admiration for the older girl. like every other fangirl, you want her to notice you – but she doesn't know your name. (and you don't know hers) taglist (closed): @winieter @silantryoo @luvjanexx @perfectsunlight @pandamiswifey @jeindall777 @jimanie @sapphicmemos @slowlydifferentbluebird @jjuncidio @awkwardtoafault @gfriendsapple @cwpiqwon @nasyu-kookies @justme-idle @mightymyo @archerheejin @yoontoonwhs @jenscx @captivq @ddeulgiheree @urfriendlylocalidiot @juhyunsthirdwife @eccobe @uzumakioden @dni-unavailable @jisooftme @pandafuriosa60 @ehcyps @wiinvrs @eunhhh @lyninabin @sewiouslyz @ryujinbrat @edamboon @ky-yk @orchestralbeats @ludasgf @blooming--warrior @blue4hour

[aernergy]

I see all these irene x male readers... I need to do something

[aernergy]

abt me

call me sopa ᯓ★ ISTP

seattle ☂‧₊˚ | viet

-js started writing

-lowkey i take long on requests so pls be patient

ariana grande, lauvey, bruno mars, billie eilish, & beabadoobee ⚡︎ listener

❥ ults - bae joohyun & aeri uchinaga

groups i stan: red velvet

aespa

dreamcatcher

blackpink

twice

lesserafim

itzy

(g) idle

illit

[aernergy]

navigation

now playing; armageddon ⋆｡♪ ₊˚♬ﾟ.

ㅤ0:24 ─●──────── -3:26

ㅤㅤㅤ↻ ◁ II ▷ ↺

── .✦ sopa ⟡ ISTP ✦.──

𝗺𝗮𝘀𝘁𝗲𝗿𝗹𝗶𝘀𝘁 | 𝗮𝗯𝘁 𝗺𝗲

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ ㅤ ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤrequests: open

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ (i dont write male reader)

‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ˗ˏˋ 〟 aenergy 〞ˎˊ˗

ㅤ

ㅤ