#like he’s cool but I need a more soft look

[seospicybin]

NATIONAL ANTHEM.

Seungmin x reader. (s,a)

Synopsis: At first, you knew Seungmin as the guy you made out with on a flight home but once the plane landed, you discovered that he's the son of your father's rival candidate for the upcoming election, causing you to be caught between love and loyalty. (13,6k words)

Author's note: Happy birthday to the agent of chaos, Seungmin ☆

Some people might call it fate, serendipity, or kismet, but you're not the type to believe in romantic clichés like that, so let's just call it a coincidence.

It's merely a coincidence that the car got a flat tire on the way to the airport, causing you to miss the flight you were supposed to be on. Otherwise, you would have been sitting in seat 4B on a completely different plane next to a completely different passenger in seat 4A.

As you make your way to your seat, you notice him immediately. A young man sitting in the window seat next to yours, he possesses a rare, gentlemanly beauty. With refined features, a charming smile, and tousled dark hair, he exudes a sophisticated appeal. In other words, he’s the kind of guy who instantly catches your eye.

He glances up as you stow your bag in the overhead compartment, offering a polite nod. You take your seat next to him, trying to keep your cool even though your heart skips a beat.

There’s something about him that draws you in, something magnetic—a quiet confidence that doesn’t need to be loud or showy to be felt.

After you settle in and the plane takes off, you feel the urge to talk to him. You're usually not the type to strike up conversations with strangers, but for some reason, with him, you can't help it. Also, you realize that if you want something to happen, you have to start somewhere.

“Is this your first time flying out of here?” you ask, turning to him with a smile.

He looks at you, his lips curving into a small smile. “No, I’ve been here before, but it’s been a while," he answers, his voice smooth and calm, making something flutter in your chest.

You introduce yourself to break the ice and make interacting easier.

"Seungmin," he says, taking your hand and holding it for a moment as he introduces himself. "Traveling alone?"

"Yes," you answer innocently.

"Business or pleasure?" he asks, a playful glint in his warm brown eyes.

You stare into his eyes and faintly bite your lower lip before answering, "Hopefully, pleasure."

From there, the conversation flows effortlessly. You talk about everything—from favorite travel destinations to the books you're reading. Something about Seungmin makes it feel so natural, and before you know it, two hours have passed in the blink of an eye.

“I can’t believe we’ve been talking for hours,” you say with a low laugh, glancing out the window at the darkened sky.

The Atlantic stretches endlessly below, and the flight attendants have dimmed the cabin lights, casting a soft, intimate glow over the rows of seats.

“Time flies when the company’s good,” he says, his eyes lingering on you in a way that makes your heart race.

The space between you feels charged now, the conversation slowing as the connection deepens into something more. You can feel the pull—the undeniable attraction that’s been simmering since you sat down. Then you catch him glancing at your lips, and you know he feels it too.

Daringly, you lean in slightly, testing the waters, and he responds by shifting closer. The air between you is electric, and when his hand brushes yours, a spark shoots through you.

Both of you hesitate for a moment, caught in that intoxicating space where everything hangs in the balance until neither of you can resist any longer.

Your lips meet in a soft, tentative kiss, and the world outside the window seems to fall away. His kiss is gentle at first, cautious, testing, but when you respond, he takes it as permission to deepen it. He rests his hand on your cheek, and warmth spreads through you as his lips move against yours in a slow, intoxicating rhythm, making you forget you’re on a plane surrounded by strangers.

For those few moments, it's just you and him, lost in each other, the quiet hum of the plane fading into the background.

When you finally pull apart, breathless and dazed, you exchange a look that says everything. This isn't just some fleeting attraction. There’s something real here, something undeniable.

However, once the plane touches down and the cabin lights flicker back to life, reality begins to creep in. It's the altitude, the change in air, and the fact that you now have both feet on the ground. The intimacy of your shared moments with Seungmin starts to fade as you both prepare to disembark.

Everyone stands from their seats to gather their things, and you can feel Seungmin watching as you reach for your bag in the overhead compartment.

"So…" Seungmin begins as you both shuffle out of the row and into the aisle. "Can I get your number? Or at least, a last name?"

Your heart is still fluttering from the kiss you shared just hours ago, but you hesitate. There’s an inexplicable tug in your gut telling you not to give in so easily, to be cautious. You like him—really like him—but you're not going to make it that easy.

You flash him a playful smile. “Hmm... I’m not sure I should make it that easy for you,” you tease, shifting your bag onto your shoulder.

Seungmin raises an eyebrow, his lips curling into a half-smile. “You’re going to make me work for it?”

You nonchalantly shrug, trying to keep things light despite your racing heart. “Let’s just say I like a challenge.”

As you walk together through the terminal, the chemistry between you still crackling, you step outside and notice a car waiting at the curb. The driver, standing beside it, is holding a sign with Seungmin’s name. At first, nothing seems out of the ordinary, until you notice his jacket. The driver is wearing a dark blazer, but pinned to it is a familiar emblem—the logo of a political campaign.

Not just any campaign. It's your father’s rival’s campaign.

Your smile falters as you look more closely, and your heart drops when something clicks. You turn to Seungmin, your mind racing.

“Is that your driver?” your voice comes out sharper than you intended.

Seungmin follows your gaze, looking a bit confused. “Yeah. Why?”

Your throat suddenly feels dry. You clear it before asking the big question. “Are you from the Kim family? The same Kim family running for governor?”

"Yes," Seungmin answers, clearly puzzled.

The Kim family. The Kim family. Your father’s bitter rival in the upcoming election. This isn’t just some random guy you met on a plane—he's the son of the man your father has been railing against for weeks. You feel the blood drain from your face as the realization crashes down.

Seungmin’s expression shifts from confusion to concern. “What’s wrong?”

You unconsciously take a step back. "You’re... you’re a Kim," you say, still in disbelief.

Seungmin opens his mouth to respond, but you cut him off. "Your father and mine—they’re both running for governor."

For a moment, Seungmin seems to be processing what you’ve said. Then his face hardens slightly in understanding. You take another step back, the weight of everything pressing down on you.

“This changes everything,” you whisper.

He looks at you, his eyes searching. “No, it doesn’t have to," he says.

If only he knew how badly you wanted to believe him. But you can’t ignore the reality of the situation. Both of your families are in a brutal political war, and no matter how much you like him, getting involved with Seungmin could blow everything up—for both of you.

"How is it not? Your father accused mine of siphoning money from the city’s budget for his campaign."

"Because he did!" Seungmin says boldly.

"There’s no concrete proof!" you counter.

"Of course, because they know how to make things disappear. Your family is known for their generosity with hush money," he remarks bluntly.

You’ve never been one to argue about things that aren’t your business, but when it comes to your family, you naturally defend them.

"As opposed to your father’s blatant hypocrisy," you calmly reply. "He’s fighting the climate crisis, but his wife keeps taking private jets for her shopping trips."

You come up with a concrete data point. "According to the data, those trips contributed 58 metric tons of carbon—the same amount emitted by 4,625 cars in a day."

That seems to shut him up. His jaw clenches, and it's unfair how good he looks when he's mad.

The driver awkwardly clears his throat, glancing between you both. “Sir, we should get going. Your father’s waiting.”

"It was good to see you," Seungmin says before storming off, childishly bumping your shoulder as he passes.

"Goodbye, I guess," you mutter, scoffing in disbelief as you watch him walk away.

That concludes everything, officially making it an unpleasant coincidence.

-

It was just a coincidence!

That's what Seungmin has been telling himself after spending days wrestling with his feelings, convincing himself that it doesn’t matter, that you are just a fleeting moment, a passing fancy. But the truth is undeniable: no matter how much he tries to push you out of his mind, he just can’t stop thinking about you.

When his friend mentioned that you’re living separately from your family, something shifted inside him. The tension between your families has always been an obstacle, a reason to stay away, but now it seems more like an excuse. If anything, the fact that you aren’t on good terms with your family only deepens his curiosity—and somehow, his feelings.

Seungmin hadn’t planned to find your hotel room, but once he knew where you were staying, he couldn’t help himself. And now, as he stands there, waiting for you to open the door, his heart races in anticipation despite the cool facade he tries to maintain.

After a moment, the door creaks open, and there you are—your hair slightly tousled, your expression showing slight shock to see him there. His heart leaps at the sight of you, but instead of the warmth or excitement he hoped to see, your face remains cold, indifferent.

“Are you stalking me?” your voice is cool, a little too casual, as if you haven’t been thinking about him at all.

There's no going back now, so Seungmin pushes forward. "Well, you're not that hard to track."

You lean against the doorframe, crossing your arms in front of you defensively. “You shouldn’t be here,” you say flatly.

Seungmin notices the flicker in your eyes, something you’re trying to hide. He takes a small step closer, his gaze softening, and playfully says, “Maybe."

You stare at him for a moment, your expression hard, but he sees the hesitation in the way your fingers grip the edge of the door. You’re fighting something, trying to keep a wall between the two of you. He understands why you keep your guard up so high—you’re trying to protect yourself, your heart, and maybe even protect him from the mess that is your life right now.

“You shouldn’t be... with me,” you make it even clearer, but even as you say the words, your voice wavers.

Seungmin takes another step forward, placing his hand near where yours rests. “Let me in, and we'll find out."

Your eyes soften for a brief moment before you quickly look away, the conflict clear in your expression. It’s obvious that you want to shut the door, to push him away, but something is holding you back. Maybe it's the same thing that brought him here in the first place—the connection, the spark between you that refuses to be ignored.

The conflict in your eyes only encourages Seungmin. He leans against the doorframe, his eyes never leaving yours. "Why are you staying in a hotel anyway?" he asks, his voice casual but tinged with curiosity.

You remain aloof, folding your arms across your chest as you raise an eyebrow. “Why should I let my enemy know?"

The coldness in your tone is deliberate, a shield to guard against him, against what you’re really feeling. But he doesn’t back down; his smirk only grows wider.

His hand inches closer to yours as he leans in just a bit closer, making his presence suddenly more overwhelming.

“See, that’s the thing..." his voice drops lower, with a teasing edge.

“What?” you ask, trying to keep your cool even though the proximity makes your heart race.

“We’re enemies,” he states the obvious, his gaze locking onto yours with such intensity that it sends a shiver down your spine.

You let out a sigh, already prepared for whatever line he’s about to throw at you. “And what’s your point?”

Seungmin’s smirk deepens as he leans in even closer, his face now mere inches away from yours. His voice is low and soft, almost a whisper, but filled with mischief.

“Sleeping with the enemy is hot.”

Your breath hitches slightly, but you keep your expression in check, refusing to let him see just how much his words affect you. You tilt your head a little to the side, raising an eyebrow, but the corner of your mouth betrays you with the slightest hint of a smile.

“Is that so?” you respond with a daring smirk.

Seungmin lets out a low chuckle, his eyes flickering with something dangerous and alluring, like he knows exactly how this game is going to end.

As you stand there weighing your options, the tension between you and him becomes unbearable. You can feel the electricity crackling in the air, and despite everything, you find yourself taking a step back, opening the door wider without saying a word.

Seungmin’s triumphant smile tells you that he understands your silent invitation. Without wasting another second, he steps inside, the door closing softly behind him as the world outside fades away.

Before you can even catch your breath, he’s on you—his lips crash against yours with a force that makes you dizzy. The kiss is urgent, an explosion of passion and frustration that has been building between you and him for so long.

His hands grip your waist, pulling you closer as if the mere touch of your skin isn’t enough to satisfy the hunger between you.

All the walls you’ve built, all the reasons you shouldn’t be doing this, crumble in an instant. It doesn’t matter that he’s your enemy. Right now, all that matters is the way his lips brush against yours, the way his breath mingles with yours, the way your hearts seem to beat in sync.

In that moment, nothing else exists but the two of you.

-

Doing it on the bed is overrated to Seungmin, so he grabs you by the waist and swiftly hoists you up, setting you on the nearest table. Fortunately, it's sturdy and at the perfect height for whatever he's planning next.

He plants his hands on the table behind you and aligns his body with yours, fitting just right—hardness to softness, curves to hollows. Oh, he has so many ideas of what to do with you. On second thought, he's fine with paying the fine for property damage if it comes to that.

He leans in slowly, teasing your lips for a kiss, but just a millimeter away from contact, he moves to the side and whispers softly into your ear, "Do you know how many times I’ve thought about this moment?"

You look up at him, eyes wide and seductive, a grin peeking at the corner of your mouth. "I don’t want to know. I want you to show me."

Something flickers in his eyes—something that both scares and thrills you. He places a hand on your waist and glides it up your side, stopping at your ribcage.

"What is it about you..." His words trail off as he places a deep, slow kiss on your lips.

As he keeps your mouth busy, his hand palms your breast through your nightdress. When he pinches your hardening nipple, you gasp at the jolt of sensation.

To return the favor, you slide your fingers beneath his shirt, feeling the hard ridges of his stomach. He's soft yet firm, and if it weren't for the warmth under your fingertips, you’d think he was carved from marble.

"I just can’t stop thinking about you and our kiss," he says, a mix of wonder and disbelief in his voice, before capturing your lips again in a hungry kiss, his tongue exploring your mouth.

Seungmin’s thumb rubs your nipple just right, making your insides melt.

"Look at you, getting weak in the knees for me," he says with a triumphant grin.

He pulls his hand from the table and gives it a new task, sliding under your dress to grip your inner thigh, pulling your hips against his arousal, letting you feel the heat of his desire.

"And what we could have done after that kiss..." he continues, your lips meeting again in a breathless kiss.

Seungmin breaks the kiss to move his lips elsewhere—your neck, your chest. His hand roughly pulls down the front of your nightdress, sending your breasts spilling out. He wastes no time, his lips closing over your skin.

Your hand flies to his hair, tugging as he sucks hard on your breast. You watch as his tongue swirls around your nipple before he fills his mouth with your flesh.

"Seungmin..." you call breathlessly, unsure whether you want him to stop or keep going.

Hearing his name roll off your lips soothes something deep inside him, and he wants to hear it again and again. He pushes the hem of your nightdress up around your waist, and in return, you rip open the fly of his jeans, freeing his swollen member.

"Mmh..." you hum with delight, wrapping your hand around his length, hot and pulsing with desire.

Seungmin mirrors your action, palming your clothed core, his thumb tracing your engorged bundle of nerves. Soon, your underwear is damp with arousal.

"What is it about you, mmh?" he asks, eyes locked on yours.

He pulls your panties aside and runs his long fingers down your folds, drenching them in your essence. As his fingers drag down, he pushes them inside you, earning a broken moan from your lips.

"What is it about you that makes me want more..." He keeps pumping his fingers in and out of you, savoring the way your face contorts in pleasure. "And more, and more..."

As he continues, you fist the front of his shirt, pulling him close, your legs opening wider, bringing his cock even closer to where you want him.

He withdraws his fingers, replacing them with his cock. Your legs are raised slightly higher than the table’s surface, aching for more than just the feeling of his tip rubbing between your folds.

"Stop teasing me," you mutter.

His lopsided grin returns, and before you can react, he thrusts into you hard and fast, burying himself completely inside you.

Your breath hitches, and you moan his name, which he finds incredibly hot. He strokes his tongue over every inch of your mouth, claiming it as he angles his hips to hit your clit.

The tight grip of your body, your sweet mouth, your legs wrapped around him—perfection. He indulges in every part of you. His heart races, his need grows desperate, but he holds back, determined to wait for your high to come first.

When you finally shatter and convulse around him uncontrollably, he allows himself to thrust harder. He grasps your hips, your thighs, pressing your foreheads together so he can look into your beautiful, dazed eyes as he thrusts one last time, losing himself completely as he pours everything into you. As his breath saws in and out, he holds you tight, with no intention of letting go.

The theory is proven: sleeping with the enemy is hot.

-

It’s Seungmin’s third time staying over in your hotel room this week alone, and no, you're not complaining at all. You've already grown accustomed to him—Seungmin is part of your routine now, part of your life, and his absence leaves you feeling restless.

When you're not with him, you recall what he’s done to you: the way he kissed you, caressed you, all the things he's said. Your hand unconsciously flies down to your thigh, wishing he was touching you right now.

But don’t get it wrong—the non-bedroom side of Seungmin appeals to you just as much as the lover side, if not more. He makes you laugh, and he listens to you, even when what you talk about isn’t particularly interesting. He’s comfortable around you, and that makes you comfortable around him. You like how he fills the empty space in the bed, and you also like just lying with him in a comfortable silence that doesn’t beg for questions.

However, tonight is an exception.

As you lie on the bed with Seungmin, still recovering from the passionate lovemaking you shared earlier, you feel the weight of reality slowly creeping back in. The silence between you isn’t uncomfortable, but it feels heavy, as if there are things that need to be said.

You roll over slightly to face him and place your hand on his arm, fingers gently tracing the veins coiling down his inner arm. “I need to tell you something,” you murmur.

Seungmin turns his head to look at you, his gaze soft but curious. “What is it?”

You inhale deeply as you gather your thoughts, looking into his eyes as you begin with the one thing you're sure of.

“I really like you, Seungmin.”

“I know,” he says confidently, one corner of his mouth curling into a half-smirk.

You bring your hand up to cup his chin, gently scratching his jaw with your fingertips as you flash him a soft smile and continue speaking.

“What you don’t know is that my family isn’t speaking to me right now, and that’s something I’d like to change.”

“I didn’t know. I’m sorry,” he says earnestly, softly caressing your cheek.

“My family used to control me—I’m sure you know what that’s like. I rebelled, took off, and a year into it, I found out my younger sister was going through something, and I wasn’t there for her because I was trying to prove some... stupid point,” you explain with a dry chuckle.

His gaze remains steady as he listens to you without interrupting.

“I’m just trying to find my way back in, and I happened to bump into you along the way.”

“And I’m glad you did,” he says, catching your other hand in his and resting it on his chest.

You hold his chin, wanting all of his attention focused on you, because what you're about to say is the most important part of this conversation.

“Being seen with you would send the wrong message, and I really can’t risk making my family more upset right now.”

Seungmin’s eyes soften, and without the slightest hesitation, he nods in agreement. “I understand,” he says calmly.

“Don’t worry, I’m pretty good at secret relationships,” he adds with a playful smirk. “And all the sneaking around... it’s kind of thrilling. I find it really hot.”

You let out a soft laugh, suddenly feeling at ease. “Of course you do.”

Seungmin pulls you closer, gently brushing a strand of hair away from your face before placing a chaste kiss on your lips.

“We’ll keep it a secret, but I want you to know that it doesn’t change how I feel about you.”

As Seungmin presses a tender kiss to your forehead, you feel the warmth and reassurance sinking in. For now, the secret doesn’t feel like a burden—it feels like a shared world that belongs only to the two of you.

-

In under a month, Seungmin has learned a lot about you.

In bed, you respond best when he goes slowly, whispering sweet nothings in your ear. But if he wants something more intense—or anything, for that matter—you’re game and eager to please. He couldn’t ask for a better partner.

Out of bed, you live by routine. You get up at the same time every day, then shower away the evidence of morning sex (because Seungmin loves starting the day off right). Your breakfast usually consists of a cup of black coffee and French toast. You share a kiss before parting ways; you get picked up at the hotel entrance while Seungmin makes his exit through the hotel kitchen.

During the day, you help your father with his campaign at the headquarters, returning to your hotel room around 8 or 9 when you have dinner with your family.

As for your evenings, they belong to Seungmin. When you’re not fooling around like hormonal teenagers, you spend time having late-night snacks, talking about random things, or just cuddling in bed—things Seungmin has never experienced with anyone before.

Day by day, he wants more of you, not less.

Tonight, you both decide to watch something on pay-per-view. You rest your head on his shoulder while your eyes are fixed on the large screen mounted on the wall. From time to time, Seungmin kisses you, and it feels so good having you near, as if he were made to be your lover.

Occasionally, you react to certain scenes in the film, your bare legs shifting beneath the hem of your nightdress.

“Are you wearing underwear?” he jokes into your ear.

You part your legs, giving him the opportunity to find out for himself. It’s funny that he only realizes now—you’ve never turned him down; you’re just as starved for him as he is for you.

Seungmin pouts when his fingers meet silky fabric instead of your tender flesh, but that doesn’t stop him from continuing to touch you. You gasp as he massages your clothed clit, and your head lolls on his shoulder.

It doesn’t take long before you’re wet, your essence coating his fingertips as he traces your folds. His cock aches inside the confines of his jeans, as if it’s been weeks since he last had sex, not just hours. He wants you again—craves that closeness, that connection, that unbelievable, mind-blowing pleasure. No amount of you is ever enough for him.

Before long, you give in and pull him down for a hungry kiss, which leads to another, and another, and another...

The next thing he knows, the credits are rolling on the TV screen—the whole film played while the two of you were busy with other things. At the end of the night, you climb into bed and nuzzle your head into the crook of his neck, wrapping your warmth around his body.

Seungmin brushes a stray hair from your face, his fingertips trailing over the smooth curve of your lips before placing a gentle kiss, tender and possessive.

“Goodnight,” he mutters when he breaks the kiss.

The next morning, he finds you wearing his shirt—the one from the very first night you spent together. He doesn’t know how to describe how he feels seeing you in his clothes, knowing you kept his shirt and have been wearing it; all he knows is it’s a good feeling.

Truthfully, he’s been feeling like this a lot lately—whenever you smile, ask for a kiss, or cross the room just to be near him. But also when the two of you aren’t together. He has spent the past few weeks in a euphoric high, grinning for no other reason than thinking of you.

There’s no doubt about it—Seungmin is stupid in love.

-

The fundraiser party is in full swing, the lights casting a warm, polished glow over the room as it's buzzing with conversations and the clinking of glasses. You stand beside your father, perfectly poised, playing the part of the dutiful daughter.

This night isn’t about you—it’s about him. Every charming smile, every polite nod you give is an extension of the image he wants to project: a perfect family, a perfect father. But you know the truth.

As you watch your father work the room, shaking hands and making connections, you know your role is to boost his image—not because he cares about you, but because you are part of his political strategy. Still, this is your chance to prove yourself, to show him you can be the daughter he wants, even if the real connection is long gone.

Then, out of the corner of your eye, you see Seungmin and his brother-in-law approaching. Your heart skips a beat, but you hurriedly calm yourself down, knowing this isn’t the time for emotions—it’s the time for control.

Seungmin and his brother-in-law stop in front of you and your father. Seungmin’s gaze briefly meets yours for a second, and despite the public setting, the intensity of that look sends a small thrill through you.

“Good evening,” Seungmin’s brother-in-law says politely and formally. “We’re here representing our father tonight, and he sends his regards.”

Your father, ever the politician, gives a thin, practiced smile. “Ah, yes, it’s unfortunate he couldn’t attend himself. I suppose running a campaign must keep him quite busy.”

There’s a subtle edge to his words, a slight sneer that isn’t lost on you or anyone, but fortunately, Seungmin and his brother-in-law remain composed, not rising to the bait.

“Of course,” Seungmin replies calmly. “He’s doing everything he can for the campaign.”

Your father’s gaze shifts to Seungmin, sizing him up before his eyes narrow in curiosity. "Seungmin, isn’t it? I’ve heard good things about you. You’ve been quite the asset to your father’s campaign, haven’t you?”

“Oh, please. I’m just doing the best I can to help,” Seungmin humbly replies, perfectly nailing the model son role.

“It’s refreshing to see someone so dedicated to their family’s success. We could all learn from that, couldn’t we?” your father says, glancing at you, making it clear that his praise for Seungmin is a thinly veiled comparison.

You keep your composure, your smile unwavering, even as a knot of discomfort forms in your stomach. You entertain yourself with the thought that your father has no idea what is really going on—that the very man he is praising is the one you are secretly seeing. The joke is on him.

“Have you met my daughter?" your father asks, gesturing toward you as if you haven’t been standing there the whole time.

Seungmin turns to you, his expression steady, but his eyes flicker with something only you can recognize. He holds out his hand. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

“Likewise,” you reply, keeping your smile polite. You have to continue acting as if nothing has ever happened between you and him.

Hours pass as you mingle with other guests, but the pressure of keeping up appearances starts to weigh on you. Toward the end of the party, when most of the guests are distracted, you slip away, catching Seungmin’s eye as you do. He follows discreetly, and soon you find yourselves in an isolated part of the building, the muffled sounds of the party still audible.

The moment he comes into sight, you let out a sigh of relief, allowing yourself to drop the mask you’ve worn all night.

"I missed you," he whispers as he steps closer. Before you can respond, he presses his lips to yours, the kiss filled with longing and the tension that has been building up since your last secret meeting.

"I missed you too," you murmur between kisses.

In the dimly lit, secluded hallway, you and Seungmin find a rare moment of peace. His hands cup your face, his lips moving urgently against yours, pouring all the longing and frustration of the past few days into every kiss.

It is reckless, but being with him feels too good to resist. In fact, it feels so good that you almost forget the dark shadow that has been hanging over your mind. Almost.

"My mom found out about us," you blurt out after breaking the kiss.

Seungmin freezes, his lips barely an inch from yours, his brows furrowing as he processes what you’ve just said. "Wait... what?"

“I guess we didn’t fool the doorman,” you say with a heavy sigh as the gravity of the situation sinks in.

For a moment, Seungmin just stands there, panic rising in his chest. If your mom knows, it won’t be long before both of your families find out, and he knows exactly what that would mean for both of you—and for his father’s campaign.

“So... you told her the truth?” he asks, focusing on the possibility that your mom might indirectly support this relationship.

“Obviously, I didn’t want to risk everything with my family for some fling that wasn’t going to last,” you reply meekly.

Seungmin blinks, then his lips curl into a teasing smile. "Oh, so it isn’t just some fling?”

“Seungmin, I’m serious!" you whine in frustration, giving him a playful slap on the chest.

"You can’t keep sneaking into the hotel anymore. It’s too risky, and if my father finds out...” You can’t even finish your sentence without feeling sick to your stomach.

Seungmin’s smile fades as he realizes the danger you are both in. It feels as if the walls are closing in on both sides, and it won’t be long before someone else notices the two of you together. His mind races, trying to think of a solution, somewhere you can be together without the prying eyes of your families.

Just as he opens his mouth to say something, a voice interrupts, and both of you stiffen.

“Seungmin?”

His brother-in-law is standing a few feet away, his eyes narrowing as he glances between the two of you, catching sight of Seungmin’s hand still holding yours.

None of you speak, and in that moment, it feels like the quiet before a storm about to break.

-

Seungmin’s brother-in-law has always been sharp, and tonight is no exception. As you and Seungmin slipped out of the party, thinking you were being discreet, he spotted the two of you. From the moment you met, he sensed something was already there. He observed further, noticing the sneaky glances, the looks that said more than words, and the way you interacted with each other. He must admit, both of you are poor actors.

When his brother-in-law corners the two of you in the hallway, Seungmin braces himself, expecting him to spill everything to his father immediately, knowing what he could gain from it.

“Why aren’t you saying anything?” Seungmin asks, suspicion creeping in. He knows his brother-in-law has always been loyal to the family, especially to his father, so this calm, nonchalant reaction doesn’t add up.

Instead, his brother-in-law glances between you both with a knowing smile and says, "You two are playing a dangerous game, but you know what? I won’t stand in your way."

That doesn't make Seungmin relax. If anything, the words make him more cautious. "And why’s that? Why are you suddenly on my side?”

“Seungmin, I already think of you like my own brother,” his brother-in-law replies simply, with enough sincerity to convince anyone who hears him. “I want you to be happy."

Seungmin remains quiet for a moment, still wary, but realizing he has little choice. Whatever his brother-in-law’s motives are, this is the only lifeline he has right now.

“So, what’s the plan?” Seungmin finally asks, keeping his voice steady.

“I have a boat. It’s docked not far from here. No one checks it, no one comes by." His brother-in-law reaches into the inner pocket of his jacket and pulls out a small set of keys, handing them to Seungmin. "You two can stay there, alone, as long as you need."

Seungmin’s gaze flicks from the keys to his brother-in-law’s face, still unsure if he can fully trust him. But this is the best option you both have right now. He decides to take a leap of faith and takes the keys from him.

"It's docked on the west side, slip twenty-three," his brother-in-law informs him. Before Seungmin can say anything else, he adds, “Oh, you may want to check the first aid kit on the boat.”

Seungmin’s eyebrows knit in confusion. “What for?”

His brother-in-law puts on a mischievous grin. “Let’s just say you’ll find some essentials in there."

Seungmin’s suspicion deepens, but he doesn’t question it further. Maybe his brother-in-law is being sincere, so Seungmin stops overthinking it. On a more important note, you both need a place to hide, and this is as good as it’s going to get. He glances over at you, and with a silent agreement, you both know you have to take this opportunity, no matter the risks.

“Thanks,” Seungmin mutters, cautious but grateful. “I appreciate it.”

His brother-in-law pats him on the shoulder, giving him a reassuring nod. “Just be careful,” he says.

With that, you and Seungmin slip away into the night, heading toward the boat where, for at least one night, you can finally be alone.

-

The boat is bigger than you thought it would be, bobbing gently in the moonlit water. As you step onto the deck, you feel a sense of freedom, as if, for once, the outside world can’t reach you. You settle into the small but comfortable space, the tension between you fading into something softer, more tender.

When it’s just the two of you, you can finally let your guard down and be your authentic self. You walk up to him and slip into his arms for a warm embrace.

"It's just you and me now," you say, resting your forehead against him.

"Just you and me," he repeats, gently tilting your head with his hand on your chin, and places the gentlest kiss, treating you like a fragile piece of art.

Seungmin leads you through the cabin, the scent of saltwater and wood lingering in the air, mixing with the faint aroma of the sea breeze drifting in from the open hatch.

“This is nice,” you comment, running your fingers along the edge of a worn leather couch. “But do you think your brother-in-law keeps any food around? I’m starving.”

He lets out a soft chuckle and makes his way to the small kitchenette, opening the fridge with a creak. “Looks like frozen pizza is on the menu,” he says, pulling out the pack and showing it to you.

As Seungmin prepares the frozen pizza and tosses it into the microwave, you head to the bedroom to find something comfortable to wear. In the bathroom, you find a soft bathrobe neatly folded on the top shelf. Without a second thought, you change out of your dress and into the robe. As you tie the belt around your waist, you sigh in relief, feeling a great sense of comfort.

By the time you return, Seungmin is plating the pizza, the smell filling the small cabin. He has also found a bottle of champagne in the cabinet, the label a little worn and the drink lukewarm. Both of you eat in comfortable silence, exchanging small smiles between bites, enjoying this rare moment of normalcy.

When the food is all gone, you lean back in your seat with a contented sigh. The dinner is simple, yet it feels more special than any you’ve had before.

Being the neat person he is, Seungmin wastes no time cleaning up after dinner.

“You can clean up later,” you tell him, sipping your warm champagne.

“There’s not much to clean anyway,” he replies, taking the dirty plates back into the cabin.

Remembering what Seungmin’s brother-in-law said before you left, you decide to go on a little hunt for the first-aid kit he mentioned and see what’s inside. It doesn’t take long to find it tucked away in one of the cabinets in the control room. As you open it, you blink in surprise.

“Well, well…” you murmur, pulling out a small Ziploc bag among the usual bandages and ointments.

Seungmin raises an eyebrow when you bring it over and show him. He shakes his head, already deciding it’s a bad idea.

You shrug, holding the pack out to him with a playful smile. “Why not? Let’s live a little.”

“We shouldn’t even be touching his things,” he says, leaning back on the sun lounger.

“What are you talking about? We’ve just eaten his frozen pizza and drunk his champagne,” you remind him, settling onto his lap.

“I can buy those things back for him,” he replies, folding his hands behind his head.

“But he mentioned it, so that means he’s fine with it, right?”

He shakes his head, eyes closed, unwilling to hear more persuasion.

“Come on,” you urge, taking a rolled blunt out of the bag and rolling it between your fingers. “Just one. It’s a special night, isn’t it?”

He opens his eyes and finds himself unable to resist you when you smile so sweetly. He reaches for the blunt.

“Alright, fine," he gives in, "but just one.”

You light it and take a slow drag, letting the smoke curl lazily into the air before handing it over to him. His fingers brush against yours as he inhales, and you watch as his shoulders visibly relax.

The two of you take turns smoking, the night enveloping you in a peaceful cocoon. The quiet of the water, the gentle sway of the boat, and the faint glow of stars above make everything feel far away, as if the world and its complications couldn’t touch you here.

“I could get used to this,” you softly mutter, your voice barely louder than a whisper as you nuzzle into Seungmin’s side, sharing the sun lounger with him, the blunt hanging loosely between your fingers.

Seungmin exhales long and slow, his arm coming around your shoulders to pull you close. “Yeah, me too.”

The smoke, the sea, and the quiet lull you into a different kind of peace—an escape from everything, if only for tonight.

With one last drag, you finish the rest of the blunt yourself. You rest your head on Seungmin’s shoulder, your hand on his chest, feeling the steady rhythm of his breath. For once, you don’t feel like you’re running away from something.

“I wish it could always be like this,” you murmur, more to yourself than to him. “I feel happiest when it’s just us, alone like this.”

Seungmin shifts slightly, his arm tightening around you as if he wants to hold onto this moment forever. He presses a soft kiss to the top of your head, and your heart flutters in response. He doesn’t say anything at first, just holds you closer, and you wonder if he feels the same way—that the world outside seems so distant when it’s just the two of you.

“I feel it too,” he finally says. “When it’s just us… it feels like everything makes sense. Like we’re the only two people in the world that matter.”

His words make your heart ache with a bittersweet warmth. In a moment like this, it’s easy to forget about the chaos waiting for you back home.

Here, it’s just you and him.

You stare at him, your faces merely inches apart. The moonlight casts a soft glow across his features, and God, he’s just so beautiful. His eyes meet yours, and the longer you look into them, the more you see the depth of his feelings. There’s something tender, something vulnerable—you’ve never seen him look at you like this before.

Seungmin swallows, his Adam’s apple bobbing as if he’s gathering courage. Then, in a soft yet steady voice, he says, “I love you.”

The words hang in the air, suspended between you, and for a moment, you forget how to breathe. He’s never said it before, and hearing those words now, spoken under the starry sky with the waves lapping gently against the boat, it feels… magical.

“I love you,” he repeats, his voice more certain this time, his eyes steady on yours. “I don’t care about the rest of it—our families, the politics, all of it. I love you."

Tears well up in your eyes, not from sadness, but from the overwhelming joy of hearing him say those words. You feel the sincerity in them, the weight of what it means for him to admit it, to declare it, despite everything.

You reach for him, cupping his face in your hands. Using your thumb, you softly rub his cheek. “I love you too, Seungmin, and I think I’ve loved you for longer than I can admit," your voice breaking as you try to hold back your emotions.

Seungmin leans in, closing the small distance between you, and kisses you softly, slowly, as if savoring the moment. His lips are warm against yours, and in that kiss, you feel everything: his love, his promise, his fear, and his hope.

-

It's the wine, the blunt, the sense of freedom you're feeling at the moment, and the way you keep replaying the moment Seungmin said those three words in the back of your mind—all of those things make you high, so high that you believe you're on the way to cloud nine.

As you sit straddling him, looking down at him, you feel more attracted to him than ever. It's his beautiful face, his short dark hair that complements his features well, how the white shirt he's wearing accentuates the breadth of his shoulders, and the rolled sleeves exposing the evident veins on his arms. Oh, he's just so fucking hot.

You prop your hands on each side of his head and look into the two orbs of his eyes. He remains unfazed by the intensity of your stare, but he would be stupid not to see the want in your eyes.

Unable to help yourself anymore, you lean in and kiss him, and it feels so good when he kisses you back, responding to your desires. But the kiss is just one of many; you want more, you need more.

As your lips are locked in a rapturous kiss, you take his hand and put it around your neck; his touch feels hot against your skin. To allow him more access, you untie your bathrobe and let it fall, pooling around your waist, exposing your bare chest to him.

Seungmin slowly rises from his seat, wrapping his arms around you without breaking the kiss. You whine when he finally detaches his lips and moan when he places them on your neck next.

"Seungmin," you seductively mewl his name as he nibbles on your ear, your head spinning when he sucks on the sensitive skin.

Your heart is pounding in anticipation of what he's going to do next. You look down and find him gazing at you through his lashes as he drags his lips down your chest. His hands are also making their way to the front when, all of a sudden, he does the unexpected.

Seungmin pulls your bathrobe back on you, tying the belt around your waist with his hand. You look at him in slight shock and disbelief; it's a moment later that you're finally able to speak again.

"Why not?" you ask, blinking at him.

"Not here," he simply says, endearingly tucking your hair behind your ear and then kissing your cheek.

What he does would usually make your heart flutter, but you feel bitter from his indirect rejection of your want. "Yeah but why not?"

"Because it's indecent," he innocently answers.

You scoff because back in the hotel room, Seungmin wasn’t shy about doing indecent things—some of which are far more than just indecent.

"Why? We're on a boat, we're alone, we're under a starry sky... it's romantic," you point out why doing it here would make for a special occasion.

He takes your hands and looks at you. "Then let's get inside."

"No," you flatly refuse with a pout.

"Come on," he says, shaking your hands to get your attention. Unsuccessful, he leans in and kisses your jaw before bringing his mouth close to your ear.

"I know another way to make you see stars," he whispers in a low, sultry voice.

Ugh! You hate how easily he cracks through your defenses. You smile at him and nod, allowing him to lead the way to the cabin, through the small living room, and finally into the cramped bedroom.

He grabs you by the waist and steers you to the bed, laying you down gently. He doesn’t hesitate to come on top of you, hovering above you as he captures your lips in a hard, deep kiss that consumes you whole.

Your hands refuse to remain idle; you pop every button on his shirt without looking, and when you’re done, you part it open, impatiently placing your hands on his body, trailing the outline of his abs with your fingertips.

Seungmin lets go of the kiss to take a breather, helping you with the shirt, shaking it off his shoulders, and tossing it aside. But the task is not done there; you loop your finger around the belt loop on his slacks and pull him close.

The head of his belt clinks as you take it off and hastily tear open the zipper. Without wasting a second, you pull his slacks down until they pool around his ankles.

"Oh, la la," you exclaim delightedly, biting your lips at the sight of him standing gloriously naked before you.

"Are you going to do something about it?" he asks, his voice heavy with assertiveness, hinting that he demands you to.

"Uhm... not sure," you coyly say, slowly wrapping your hand around his length and stroking it as it gradually hardens in your palm.

You land a few licks under the tip and around the length, and when you’re ready, you take him into your mouth, compensating the rest with your hand. He feels hot, hard, and veiny, slipping in and out of your mouth while you maintain eye contact with him.

Seungmin grips your shoulder, his nails faintly digging into your flesh, but he’s aware that it might hurt you, so he tangles his fingers in your hair, tugging at it when pleasure overwhelms him.

"Stop!" he gently says, though his voice remains assertive.

You slowly pull away with a string of saliva connecting your lips to the tip of his cock. He runs his thumb over your lips, separating them before shoving it into your mouth, and you gladly suck on it.

There's a loud pop when Seungmin takes his thumb out, and with his hand on your chest, he pushes you onto the bed, sending you lying back down. He parts your legs and kneels on the floor, wanting to return the favor to you.

All the times he has pleased you with his mouth, he’s done a wonderful job, so you lay on your back and close your eyes, knowing you’re in for a treat.

The kisses he places on your inner thighs are electrifying; his lips are soft as they land on your clit, and his tongue feels hot as he licks a long stripe down your folds. He uses two fingers on each side to pull your folds apart, diving in and drowning himself in you.

"Oh..." you moan as his tongue teases your entrance.

Every kiss, every lick, every place his tongue explores, and every gentle pressure he applies to your clit—Seungmin calculates everything to give you the utmost pleasure. But tonight, he isn’t being generous; he stops just when it starts to feel so good.

You almost groan in frustration, but before it can escape your mouth, he catches your lips in a hungry kiss, making you forget your complaints, your ability to speak, and your whereabouts, but not your wants.

You part your legs wider to welcome him, seeking that closeness, wanting his delicious cock as close as possible to where you want him the most.

"If you don’t put it in, I think I’ll die," you dramatically mutter against his lips.

Seungmin lets out a chuckle and kisses you again. "I want that embroidered on a pillow."

The feeling of your needs finally met—oh, there’s nothing like it. When it comes to Seungmin, though, you’re not sure you’ll ever be satisfied; you keep wanting more.

More of those hard kisses on your lips, more of those hands kneading your breasts and gripping your legs, more of those moans slipping from his mouth into yours, more of his cock slipping in and out of you, more of those hard, shallow thrusts making your eyes roll back—more and more and more...

He isn’t lying when he says he knows another way to make you see stars. As you hit your high and your eyes screw shut, you see nothing but stars.

Seungmin comes not long after, collapsing on top of you. His lips immediately search for yours, kissing you with such haste when they find you.

When you finally pull apart, you both lay there in the silence of the night, wrapped in each other and the warmth of this tender moment. The world outside feels far away, and for now, this is enough—just the two of you, tangled in each other, both of your heads full of stars.

-

Things are going well. Your relationship with Seungmin remains a secret, and the results of the pre-vote are out, revealing that your father is leading the race by an 8% margin. Everyone is happy, all is well—but you have this nagging feeling in your chest that things won’t stay like this for long. You hope it's for the better, and God, you hope that's true.

To celebrate your father leading in the pre-vote, your family holds a brunch this afternoon. Being invited to this is a significant step toward winning your way back into the family. Your little sister has taken your hand under the table, squeezing it as a sign of solidarity. She hasn’t said it out loud, but you can feel that she’s happy to have you here, part of the family again, even if only for a moment.

However, as the minutes tick by and your father doesn’t appear, a gnawing feeling settles in your chest. You try to brush it off, focusing on how far you’ve come. After all, you’re here, included, proving that you can still be the daughter your family wants you to be.

Then your mother calls you and asks you to follow her to your father’s study. She makes you sit on the leather sofa in anticipation. Her expression is soft, but there’s something behind her eyes that makes your stomach churn, and you know something is wrong before she even speaks.

“When was the last time you saw him?” she asks, her voice quiet but direct.

Your mind flashes back to that night with Seungmin on the boat. You haven’t told anyone, and as far as you know, no one has seen you. But your mother’s gaze is sharp, and she’ll know if you lie.

“I… I went on a boat with Seungmin,” you admit meekly, your voice small and low. “But we were discreet. I swear, no one saw us.”

Your mother lets out a heavy sigh, her hand going to the nape of her neck as she massages it lightly. She doesn’t say anything but takes out her phone from her tweed jacket, tapping the screen a few times before handing it to you. Your eyes widen as you look at the screen, the shock hitting you like a punch to the gut.

There on the screen are photos—compromising photos. Some show you smoking; others are more intimate, even naked. You feel the blood drain from your face. These are pictures from that night on Seungmin’s brother-in-law’s boat, now plastered across the internet.

“Mom…” you stammer, trying to make sense of it. “There was no one there except us. This can’t be happening. It wasn’t Seungmin… it couldn’t be.”

“I’m afraid you weren’t as discreet as you thought,” your mother says, her expression composed but with a grave undertone. “Your father found out about the relationship. He’s furious, and this… this could ruin everything for him.”

You feel faint and hurriedly lean against the table to steady yourself. “No… no, it can’t be. Seungmin would never—”

The idea of Seungmin betraying you is unthinkable, but the pictures don’t lie. Someone had been there, someone had taken them, and now your life is spiraling out of control.

“I don’t believe it’s him,” you insist, shaking your head in denial. “Seungmin wouldn’t do this to me. He cares about me.”

“Think about what’s best for you,” your mother says, her voice rising slightly as she struggles to keep her composure. “Whether it’s Seungmin or his family behind this, we can’t take any more risks. You need to stay away from him, at least until I can figure out what’s really going on.”

Your heart aches, torn between your love for Seungmin and the loyalty you’re still trying to prove to your family.

“I’m sending you back to your hotel,” she says in a tone that leaves no room for argument. “And you’re not to leave until I say it’s safe. Your father is already angry enough, and we can’t afford any more mistakes.”

Before you can protest, she leaves, the door clicking shut behind her, leaving you standing in the middle of the room. You want to believe in Seungmin, but now doubts plague your mind. A question gnaws at you: Is your love for Seungmin worth risking everything you have left?

-

The car ride back to the hotel is a blur of tears and shattered trust. Your chest feels heavy, the weight of betrayal pressing down on you, suffocating you.

The man you trusted, the one who held you close, is part of the very family responsible for leaking those photos. Whether Seungmin is directly involved or not doesn’t matter anymore—his family is, and that’s enough for you to push him away.

The car pulls up to the curb, and the doorman is there instantly, opening the door and offering his hand to help you out. You feel faint, your legs trembling from the emotions raging inside, but you force yourself to stand, to walk, and to keep your head up if you can.

Just as you step onto the pavement, a familiar hand grabs your arm. You stop in your tracks, your heart aching in your chest.

Seungmin. He’s there, his eyes wide with worry, as if he hadn’t expected to see you like this. And oh, the sight of him, the man you thought you could trust, brings everything crashing down.

Without thinking, you rush at him, your fists pounding against his chest in a fit of anger and betrayal.

“How could you?!” you scream through your tears, each punch that lands fueled by the pain inside. “How could you let them do this to me?!”

Seungmin doesn’t fight back. He just stands there, letting you hit him, his face filled with shock and pain as he tries to reach for you, to explain.

“It wasn’t me,” he tries to say, but the words are lost in the chaos of your emotions. “You know I’d never—”

“Stop lying!” you shout, cutting him off.

Your emotions hit their boiling point, the pain overwhelming you. “You expect me to believe you didn’t know? That this wasn’t some way to tear me apart?”

His eyes widen in disbelief, his hands reaching for you, but you slap them away. “I don’t know who’s doing this, but I would never let anyone hurt you like this. You have to believe me!”

“Believe you? After everything that’s happened? I’ve been humiliated, and you come here pretending like you had nothing to do with it?” Your voice rises with every word, and you’re too far gone, too hurt.

He tries again, stepping closer, but you shove him hard enough that he staggers backward. “I can’t even look at you right now. Get out! Get the fuck out of my face!” you scream, tears streaming down your cheeks.

Seeing you like this is painful for him, but not as painful as knowing he caused this. His hands tremble as he tries one last time to reach for you. “Please, don’t do this—let’s talk—”

Drawn by the commotion, hotel security steps in between you and him, blocking him from approaching you.

“Sir, you need to leave,” one of them says, placing a firm hand on Seungmin’s shoulder.

“Wait! Just let me talk to her!” He tries to push past them, but they hold him back, stronger.

It’s too late. You’ve already turned away, not even sparing him a last glance. He can’t bear the thought of being the cause of all this.

As the door of your hotel room clicks shut behind you, the silence fills the room, and everything comes crashing down again. This time, you don’t have anything left to fight with, so you let the pain and heartbreak consume you, sinking to the floor as tears flood your eyes.

It hits you now—you’ve pushed away the one person you thought you could trust, but everything feels broken beyond repair. It feels like you’re losing everything: your family, your trust, and the man you thought was different.

Leaning against the closed door that seals you off from the outside world, you wonder if there’s anything left to hold on to.

-

The more Seungmin thinks about it, the more certain he becomes that there is only one person who could have leaked the photos—someone who knew about the boat, someone involved. His brother-in-law.

He doesn’t waste any more time. He grabs his car keys and drives straight to his brother-in-law’s place. A storm rages in his chest, anger mixed with dread, his head full of accusations and possible answers.

When he arrives, he skips the courtesies and storms inside. He finds his brother-in-law leaning against the kitchen counter, looking surprised but not startled to see him.

“Seungmin? What’s going on?” he casually asks.

Seungmin doesn’t stop until he’s standing right in front of him, glaring into his eyes, refusing to be fooled again.

“You know damn well what’s going on. You’re the only one who knew about the boat, the only one who could’ve tipped off the paparazzi. Tell me the truth!" He slams his hand on the counter, causing a spoon resting on the edge of a bowl to clatter. "Did you leak those photos?”

His brother-in-law’s face tenses, the calm façade slipping, replaced by panic. “Look, Seungmin, before you go off—”

“Just answer me!” Seungmin urges, his voice cracking with anger. He can’t bear the thought that someone so close to him—someone he thought of as a brother—has betrayed him like this.

After an intense silence, his brother-in-law sighs and rubs his forehead. “Fine. Yes, I hired the paparazzi.”

Deep down, Seungmin knew this would be the answer, but it doesn’t stop the anger and betrayal surging through him. His hands ball into fists at his sides, his body shaking from holding back violence.

“You set us up? Why?”

His brother-in-law looks at him and licks his lips before answering, “It wasn’t just me, alright? I had permission—permission from your father.”

Seungmin could understand his brother-in-law’s motive: he wants to get on his father’s good side, to be acknowledged and approved. But his father? His own father, whom Seungmin respects and admires, someone he has helped campaign for because he believes in him?

“My father? He knew? He approved this?” Seungmin stammers, struggling to comprehend it.

“Your father’s been watching you, Seungmin. He knows about your little affair with her, and he’s not happy. So yeah, he gave the go-ahead. The idea was to expose her, make her the problem,” his brother-in-law explains, and as if he couldn’t say anything more stupid, he adds, “It’s nothing personal, just politics.”

Seungmin knocks everything off the table—plates, glass, spoon—all clattering to the floor. “You ruined her life for politics!" he shouts, hoping it’ll knock some sense into his brother-in-law’s crooked mind.

“You know how this works, Seungmin,” his brother-in-law says calmly, still leaning against the counter. “Your father is just trying to protect you.”

“Protect me? By destroying her? By ruining her reputation?” Seungmin’s jaw clenches as he fists his hands so hard his knuckles turn white.

“She’s not innocent in all of this, and you know you shouldn’t have gotten involved with her in the first place,” his brother-in-law says, his gaze piercing.

It’s betrayal upon betrayal. Seungmin’s mind is still struggling to process the fact that his father orchestrated the entire thing, using his brother-in-law to tear them apart.

Without another word, Seungmin storms out, but his brother-in-law daringly runs his mouth once more, “You’ll thank me later, Seungmin. Trust me.”

But Seungmin isn’t listening. His mind is busy planning what to do next—how to fix this, how to make things right. His number one priority is not letting his family ruin your life any further.

-

Seungmin storms into his father’s office, despite his father clearly being in the middle of an interview. His father hurriedly signals his secretary to escort the interviewer out of the room, knowing Seungmin is barely containing his anger.

The man behind the desk doesn’t flinch, already knowing why his son is there. He’s always composed and in control, but today, Seungmin isn’t going to let him keep that control.

“You set me up,” Seungmin spits, his voice sharp with betrayal. His father looks up, surprised but not shaken. “You used your own son to destroy her, to ruin her life, just because of some political rivalry?”

His father leans back in his chair, calmly putting his hands together in front of him. “It’s not about you, Seungmin. It’s about our family’s legacy. You were distracted, involved with the wrong person. I had to make sure you stayed focused on what really matters.”

“What really matters?” Seungmin’s voice shakes with disbelief and anger. “What really matters is that you took someone I care about and humiliated her! For what? Your campaign?”

“That girl was trouble,” his father remarks coldly. “She’s from a family that stands against everything we’re trying to build. You should have known better.”

“I don’t care about the politics!” Seungmin shouts, stepping closer to his father’s desk, unafraid for the first time of going against his father’s principles. “I care about her, and you—you ruined her for your own gain.”

His father stands, towering over the desk and staring intensely into his eyes. “You think you can just walk away from this? From your family? We’ve sacrificed everything for you, Seungmin. You’re going to be a part of this, whether you like it or not.”

“No, I’m not. I’m done with all of this. I’ll never be a part of this family again,” Seungmin says, shaking his head, done being a pawn in his father’s political games.

His father’s eyes darken, and a cold smirk rises at the corner of his lips. “You think this is all about one girl?” he scoffs.

“You’re naïve, Seungmin. You haven’t been in this world long enough to understand how power works. Sacrifices have to be made. And if you walk away from this family, from me, there’s more where that came from.”

Seungmin’s chest tightens with disbelief. “What do you mean by that?”

His father leans forward, his voice low and dangerous. “You think those were the only photos? There’s more from her past. I have them, and if you walk away now—if you so much as think about turning your back on this family—I will release every last one. She won’t have a life left to salvage.”

His father pulls open a drawer and takes out a file, showing Seungmin the photos he’s been keeping as a weapon. “But if you stay—if you fall in line and keep your head down until the election is over—I’ll make sure they disappear.”

Seungmin is hit with another wave of betrayal. His father had planned this all along, dangling her reputation as leverage over him. He expected manipulation, but this? This was beyond anything he could have imagined.

“You’re willing to destroy everything just for power?”

His father doesn’t flinch. “It’s not about power, Seungmin. It’s about winning. And I have won.”

-

TEN DAYS LATER.

The election is over, and his father has indeed won, but to Seungmin, it means he has nothing left to lose.

The man in front of him has torn apart the one thing that means the most to him, and for what? A title? A seat in the governor’s office?

As everyone gathers around his father, congratulating him and celebrating his victory, Seungmin can't help but wonder: does his father feel the slightest bit of disgust for what he did to achieve this win? Seungmin certainly does. He can't look at his father the same way anymore and he refuses being related to him apart from sharing the same DNA.

Seungmin makes his way toward his father, and when he's close enough, he extends his hand. His father doesn't hesitate and grips it, shaking it with a triumphant smile plastered across his face.

"Are you happy now?" Seungmin asks calmly.

"Well, I've won," his father replies with a sickening smirk.

There’s not a hint of remorse on his face for what he did to his own son, which only convinces Seungmin further that he wants no part of this anymore.

"But you've lost your son," Seungmin boldly remarks, each word carrying a finality his father can’t ignore.

Without waiting for his father’s reply, Seungmin turns on his heel and walks away—from his father, his family, everything. He leaves the office behind, as if it’s already become a distant memory.

There's only one thing left to do now.

He drives straight to your father’s campaign headquarters because he doesn't know where else to start. Your family is the only one who knows where you are, and although he doubts any of them would tell him, he can’t—he mustn't—give up.

When he arrives, the place is busy with activity, but it offers a different kind of atmosphere compared to his father’s headquarters. He balls his hands into fists in determination and enters the building without hesitation.

"Apologies, sir, but the headquarters is strictly for staff only tonight," a security guard blocks him from stepping inside.

"I need to talk to someone in there," Seungmin says, hoping the guard will understand and let him through.

"Unless you’ve already made an appointment, we can't let you in, sir," the guard says firmly, crossing his arms and standing in front of the doorway.

Reluctantly, Seungmin steps back, trying to come up with a new plan. He considers waiting outside until one of your family members leaves. It’s a flawed idea, but it’s the best one he has.

Then, as if by divine intervention, your younger sister appears at the reception desk. Seungmin takes a step closer to the entrance, ignoring the guard, and does everything he can to catch her attention, even calling her by her full name.

She looks over her shoulder and, upon seeing him, her expression turns cold and defensive. She never trusted him, and Seungmin doesn’t blame her. Still, he’s desperate, and this might be his only chance to find you.

“I need to know where she is,” Seungmin says, his voice steady but pleading. “I need to see her before it’s too late.”

Your sister crosses her arms, scrutinizing him. "Why should I help you? After everything that’s happened, why should I trust you?"

His throat tightens, but he meets her gaze with unwavering sincerity. “Because I love her. I had no part in what my father did. I’d give up everything to be with her. I already have.”

There’s a long pause as your sister’s expression shifts, her defenses slowly lowering. Perhaps she sees the earnestness in his eyes, the depth of his regret, and his determination.

She turns to the receptionist, writes something down on a piece of paper, and hands it to him. “If you break her heart again, I swear to God...” she mutters, leaving the threat unfinished.

Seungmin’s heart leaps. He’s just met her, but she already feels more like family than his own ever has. “Thank you," he says, his voice full of gratitude.

“She’s leaving the country tomorrow, so you’d better hurry,” she adds, turning away before he can say anything more.

Every second becomes precious as his heart pounds with a new sense of urgency. This is it. He won’t lose you—not to his father, not to the mess his family has created. This time, nothing will stop him.

-

The country house is quiet, almost too quiet. The only sounds are the soft rustling of the trees outside and the occasional creak of the old wooden floorboards beneath your feet. The room is stifling, but it’s your thoughts that press down on you the most. You fold another shirt and tuck it into your suitcase, packing for tomorrow, planning to leave nothing behind.

It was a mistake to come back here, and you know it now. This city was once a refuge; now, it feels like a prison, a place to hide. You’ve become a liability to your family, and your father made that painfully clear when he sent you here. You were told to stay quiet, remain hidden, and leave without a trace in the morning.

There’s no future for you here anyway.

Tears prick the corners of your eyes as you zip up the suitcase. You can’t take any more of this—feeling like a pawn in a game that was never yours to play. Leaving is the only choice left. It’s for the best, even if it means abandoning everything you’ve ever known. It’s not an easy decision, but you force yourself to push through it.

Then, suddenly, there’s a knock on the door, breaking the stillness of the night.

Your heart leaps, and for a moment, you freeze. You remember your father’s warnings: Never open the door. No one is to know you’re here. Stay hidden. You take a step back, away from the door.

Another knock comes, this time more urgent.

You remain still, holding your breath, praying that whoever it is will go away. But then you hear a voice—his voice.

“Please... it’s me, Seungmin.”

Your heart races at the sound of his voice, familiar and full of emotion. You badly want to rush to the door, to throw it open and fall into his arms, but the alarm bells in your head ring louder. You can’t. You shouldn’t.

“I know you’re in there,” Seungmin says, his voice breaking between words. “I’ve been looking for you everywhere. Please... just let me in.”

You clench your fists, torn between what you know is right and the ache in your chest. You stay quiet, pressing your back against the door, fighting the overwhelming urge to respond.

"I had to find you," Seungmin continues, his voice softer now, almost desperate. “I couldn’t let you leave without seeing you. I can’t lose you—not after everything we’ve been through.”

Tears well in your eyes as you lean your forehead against the door, trying to keep your emotions in check. You *shouldn’t* let him in. This is a mistake—all of it—but hearing him on the other side, so close yet out of reach, is tearing you apart.

“I just want to be with you," Seungmin whispers. "I love you.”

The words break something inside you, and before you realize what you’re doing, your hand is on the doorknob. Torn between fear and love, you know you shouldn’t open the door, but your heart is aching for him. No matter how hard you try, you can’t ignore the pull you feel toward him.

“Please, don’t shut me out," he mutters, his voice thick with hopelessness.

Your walls crumble almost immediately and with shaking hands, you unlock the door and pull it open, revealing Seungmin standing there, his face full of worry and relief. His eyes soften the moment they meet yours. Without a word, he steps forward and takes you into his arms.

He holds you tightly, his warmth familiar and comforting. He feels like home. Finally, you let out a breath you didn’t realize you’d been holding.

Seungmin buries his face in your hair, whispering, “I’m here. I’m not going anywhere.”

You pull back just enough to look up at him, your eyes searching his. In that moment, without thinking, you lean in and press your lips to his—a kiss full of longing and everything you’ve been holding back for so long.

In the quiet of that night, with the stars shining through the open window and the future uncertain, you know that, despite everything, being with him is the only thing that makes sense.

-

The soft glow of moonlight filters through the curtains, casting a delicate sheen across the room. Your naked bodies are entwined beneath the sheets, the warmth of the moment lingering between you.

Seungmin hovers above you, his chest rising and falling as he gently caresses your face, his fingertips tracing the outline of your cheek like you are something sacred. His gaze is intense but tender, as if memorizing every part of you, still unable to believe you are really here in his arms.

His touch is soft, but the weight of the emotions between you is palpable. You can feel it in the way his fingers brush over your skin. He hasn’t said much, but his eyes tell everything—relief, love, fear of what could have been if he had lost you for good.

“I almost lost you,” he murmurs, his thumb grazing your lips. You lean into his touch, savoring the feeling of being so close, so connected. “I don’t ever want to feel that again.”

You gaze up at him, your heart aching with affection. Here, in this moment, it is just you and him, and nothing else matters.

Seungmin lowers his head to place a soft kiss on your forehead, then your lips, as if sealing some unspoken promise between the two of you.

“Let’s go somewhere,” his lips brush against yours with every word. “Let's start over, somewhere far away from all of this.”

The invitation comes so suddenly that you don’t know how to react. You blink up at him, feeling a mix of emotions—hope, love, but also fear. You love him deeply, more than you thought was possible, but you don’t want him to lose everything for you the way you have for him.

“Seungmin…” you whisper, your voice barely audible as your hand comes up to cup his face. “Are you sure? I don’t want you to lose your family, not like I did.”

“I’m sure,” he says firmly, his voice filled with conviction. “This, us, it’s what I want. I want to leave all of this behind and just be with you.”

A tear rolls down your cheek as you stare into his eyes, seeing the truth in his words, the earnestness of his intentions. While it makes you indescribably happy, it also breaks your heart a little. He is giving up everything—his family, his place in their world—just to be with you. You love him more for it, but it's also a heavy burden to bear.

“You really mean that?” you ask, your voice trembling with emotion.

Seungmin nods, his forehead pressing gently against yours. “Yes. This is what I want.”

It feels like the world has finally shifted, like things are starting to fall into place. Even though the future is still uncertain, you believe in him, in the two of you together, and that's enough.

“I love you,” you whisper, pulling him down into a soft, lingering kiss. “As long as we’re together, everything’s going to be okay.”

He kisses you back, holding you tightly against him, and in that moment, everything becomes clear. This is not just a mere coincidence. This is fate. You and Seungmin, together, is fate.

-

The hum of the plane's engines is comforting, familiar, as you both settle into your seats, side by side.

The memory of that first flight together—the stolen glances, the whispered conversations—comes rushing back, but this time it feels different. This is a new beginning, a chance to start over.

Seungmin glances over at you, a playful glint filling his warm brown eyes. He shifts in his seat, turning toward you just like he had the first time.

"Hi, I’m Seungmin,” he softly says, offering his hand in mock formality, his smile full of warmth. “Traveling alone?”

You can’t help but smile back, slipping your hand into his. “Nice to meet you. And I’m traveling with someone very special, actually.”

You both chuckle, the familiarity of the moment easing the tension of everything that came before. It's like stepping into a memory but with the promise of something better ahead.

Seungmin’s eyes soften as he looks at you, and he leans in closer, his voice lowering.

“Business or pleasure?” you ask playfully, replaying the conversation that had sparked your connection all those months ago.

“Neither,” he answers, his voice gentle but certain. “I’m traveling for a happy ending.”

His words send a flutter through your chest, and you feel the warmth spread all the way to your fingertips. You look at him, your heart overflowing with emotion, knowing that this isn’t just a flight—it is a leap into the unknown, into something new and full of possibility.

You squeeze his hand, feeling the familiar warmth of his skin against yours. “A happy ending,” you repeat with a smile.

As the plane begins to taxi down the runway, he intertwines his fingers with yours, holding on tightly, unwilling to let go. You both stare out the window, watching the world fall away beneath you, your hearts beating in sync.

And as the plane lifts off, climbing higher into the sky, you know that whatever the future holds, as long as you are together, everything will be okay.

The past is behind you now, and in this moment, with Seungmin by your side, the world feels wide open, full of hope and promise. Into a happy ending, you go.

-

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[itneverendshere]

reader maybe having a dad, like jj’s? very manipulative and controlling, sometimes it’s physical. and he comes out unexpected while rafes there

okay so i was planning to write off her parents as dead but this made me change my mind a little, hope you enjoy <3

wash the sins out of that house - r.c

pairing: rafe x pogue!reader (bartender!reader universe)

The sound of cartoons played low in the background, mixing with the faint clink of a fork against a plate. 

Rafe leaned back against the worn-out couch in your sister’s living room, watching as you flipped pancakes at the kitchen counter. Your sister’s kid, Milo, was glued to your leg, like always, babbling about some superhero show. The smell of breakfast filled the house, making it feel more like home than his own ever did.

Every little thing you did just made him fall more, if that was possible. He was always looking at you like that, like you were some kind of miracle.

It wasn’t just how good you were with Milo or how much you cared about everything and everyone. It was how much weight you carried without ever complaining, how you made everything seem easy even when he knew it wasn’t. You’d been staying here ever since the storm ripped through your house a few months back. 

Your sister was cool. Single mom, strong like you, but in a quieter way. She worked double shifts, and left you to help with Milo most of the time. Not that you ever complained, even after the long shifts, you loved to babysit. You were used to this shit—being the rock. Probably why you hadn’t freaked out when your house got leveled. You just rolled with it, found a place with your sister, and moved on like it was no big deal.

He’d been staying over more and more, crashing on the couch when he was too tired to drive back to Tannyhill. At first, it was just because he wanted to be near you when you couldn’t sleep over at his. But now… it felt like more. Like he could see himself living with you right away.

You glanced over your shoulder, catching him staring like an idiot. “You good?”

“Yeah,” He cleared his throat, leaning forward. “You need help or something?”

You laughed, shaking your head as you flipped another pancake. “You? In the kitchen? That’s rich, baby.”

“Hey, you never complain about my pancakes.”He shot you a grin, but it faded when Milo tugged at your shirt, asking something in that tiny voice of his. 

You crouched down, your voice soft as you reassured him, “Mommy will be back soon, okay? Just a couple more hours.”

You looked so at ease like you’d been raising kids your whole life. It did something to him—watching you like that. This tough, independent woman who wouldn’t take anyone’s shit, just… melting when you talked to Milo.

Rafe swallowed hard, not really knowing what to say. Every time he tried to picture your future together, it got fuzzy. Not because he didn’t want one. He already told you he did. But because he wasn’t sure if he deserved one with you. His life had been a mess half the time.

He’d hurt people. Done things.

But when he was around you, he didn’t feel like that entitled spoiled guy anymore. He felt like someone who could be better. For you.

The front door slammed open, and immediately, something was off. Rafe’s eyes shot from Milo’s cartoons to the guy who’d just staggered in. He could smell the booze before he even saw his face.

Who the hell?

You froze. The spatula in your hand hung mid-air as you stared at this man like you’d seen a ghost. But this wasn’t a ghost. This guy was real, and from the way he was swaying on his feet, he was about to make himself a problem.

“Some fucking daughters y’all are,” the guy slurred, his voice rough and soaked in alcohol. “Not inviting your old man over while he’s in town.”

Your dad? That was your dad?

Rafe’s mind spun. You never talked about your parents and he’d never asked because he wasn’t stupid. He could tell it was a touchy subject, just like his own dad was sometimes, so he never brought it up. He assumed they were gone and you only had your sister. He never imagined this. 

Not once had you mentioned your dad. And now here he was, stumbling through the door like he owned the place.

Rafe shot up from the couch, every muscle in his body tightening. Who the hell did he think he was, barging in here like that? You didn’t say anything right away, but your whole posture changed—your back straight, your pretty face like stone. You looked like you were bracing for something, and he didn’t like that one bit.

“Dad,” you said, flat and cold. “What are you doing here?”

He gave this ugly laugh, a mix of drunk and mean. “What, can’t a father check in on his daughters? Or are you too good for your family now?”

You didn’t even flinch. Didn’t say a word. Just stood there, still as a statue, while Milo clung to your leg, eyes wide, just as confused as Rafe felt.

Rafe stepped forward, putting himself between him and you. He didn’t care if this guy was your dad. He was drunk, stumbling, and saying things no father should be saying to his kid.

“Who the hell are you?” Her dad’s eyes flicked to him, narrowing, like he was sizing me up. “Rich boy? Boyfriend?”

He squared his shoulders, staring him down. “Rafe.”

“Rafe,” he repeated, laughing like it was some kind of joke. “Of course. She’d find herself a rich boyfriend. Always looking for the easy way out, huh?”

He had some fucking nerve walking in here, talking to you like that. Like Rafe was ever going to let someone run you down. He didn’t know anything about your relationship with your parents, but from the look in your eyes and the way you were gripping the edge of the counter, he was starting to get the picture. This wasn’t the first time your dad pulled something like this, clearly.

You grabbed his arm before he could take another step. “Rafe, don’t.”

Your voice was low, almost pleading. Not because you were scared, but because this was deeper than just a drunk guy running his mouth. This was something you’d been dealing with for years, and your boyfriend was just now getting a front-row seat.

Your dad sneered at you. “That’s right. Tell your little boyfriend to back off. You’re not so tough now, are ya? Always thinking you’re better than me. Always looking after your sister’s kid like you’re some kind of hero. But you’re not. You’re just like your mother. Weak.”

That’s when Rafe felt it. That surge of anger, that need to hit something.

No one talked to you ike that. No one.

He could feel his fists clench, chest tightening. He was ready to throw your dad out himself. But your hand tightened on his arm, and he looked at you. Really looked at you. You seemed tired, like you’d been through this a thousand times before, and you didn’t need him to step in. Not right now.

“Let him go,” you said quietly. “He’ll leave when he’s done.”

Rafe didn’t want to back off. Every instinct in him was screaming to throw this piece of shit out on his ass. But something in your voice, something in the way you were looking at him, made him stop. You weren’t asking for help. You were asking him to let it go. For now.

He swallowed the anger and stepped back, though he kept myself between you and your dad. He wasn’t leaving you alone with this guy, no way in hell.

Your dad’s sneer didn’t falter. “Yeah, that’s what I thought.” He swayed a bit before heading for the door, muttering under his breath. “Ungrateful little—"

The door slammed behind him, leaving the room dead quiet. The kind of quiet that made you realize just how loud things were a minute ago.

You exhaled slowly, like you’d been holding your breath the whole time. You turned back to the counter, flipping the pancake like nothing happened. But Rafe could see the way your hands shook just a little.

He stood there for a second, still running through everything that just went down. He’d never seen you like that before. And he didn’t like what he saw.

“Baby,” he said quietly, stepping closer.

You didn’t look at him. “He does that sometimes. Shows up, drunk, says whatever he feels like saying. Then he leaves. Same thing for as long as I can remember.”

Rafe didn’t know what to say. His mind was racing, trying to wrap around the fact that this was your life. You’d been dealing with that guy for who knows how long, and you never said a word about it.

“That’s not okay,” he said finally, his voice rough. “That’s not normal.”

You sighed, finally turning to face him. “Yeah, well. Now you met the whole family.”

You didn’t know what else to say.

There wasn’t much to say. This was just how things were for you. Your dad was a mess, and you’d learned to deal with it, ignore it even. There was no fixing this. Not really. At this point, it didn't affect you or your daily life that much.

“I should’ve asked,” he said, his voice thick with guilt. “About your family, I mean.”

I shook my head, feeling the weight of it all. “I wouldn’t have told you,” I admitted. “Probably would’ve said he’s dead.”

You didn’t want to be that girl—the one with family baggage so heavy it crushed everything good in your life. You didn’t want Rafe looking at you like I were fragile or damaged. It was bad enough that you were as broke as it got. You’d just gotten used to him wanting to help, to be a little less independent, to let him take care of you and spoil you every once in a while.

This though? You never wanted him to find out. 

But now… he knew. He knew what you came from. And you couldn’t hide it anymore.

“I don’t care,” Rafe said suddenly, breaking the silence. Like he was trying to convince you and himself at the same time. “I don’t care about your dad. I care about you.”

You could feel his eyes burning into you, but you couldn’t bring yourself to look at him. Instead, you kept your focus on the pancakes, the routine keeping you distracted. But your hands wouldn’t stop shaking, no matter how hard you tried to stop it.

“I just… I didn’t want you to see that,” You finally admitted, your voice small and raw in a way you hated. “I didn’t want you to know how messed up everything is.”

Rafe moved closer, his body warmth seeping into your side as he leaned against the counter next to you. He didn’t try to touch you, though, and you were grateful for that. You weren’t ready for that.

Not yet.

“Messed up? Baby, have you met me?” He let out this soft, disbelieving laugh, but there wasn’t any humor in it. 

You glanced up at him, finally meeting his eyes. And there it was—that soft, almost sad look he got sometimes when he thought about his family. About how his mom left and how his dad never really let him in. Ward Cameron was friendly enough with you, and he wasn’t a complete asshole to his son, but he was absent, not really caring about keeping a constant connection with his kids. It hit you then that maybe you two weren’t so different after all.

Maybe that’s why you worked.

But still, the shame stayed. The feeling that now that he really knew you, the ugly parts you kept hidden, he might not stick around. Guys like him didn’t stick with girls like you, right? Despite him doing the exact opposite until know.

“This changes nothing, okay?” he said, his voice softer now, almost like he was trying not to spook me. “Not with me.”

He wasn’t looking at you like he was about to leave. His eyes were steady, clear. He didn’t look freaked out or like he regretted being here. He just looked… real. Like he meant every word.

 “This is a mess, Rafe. You saw it.”

“I don’t care,” he said, like he needed you to hear him. “I don’t care about any of that. None of it changes how I feel about you. I love you.”

You bit your lip, turning your attention back to the pancakes because if you didn’t, you were afraid you might cry. You weren’t the crying type, but after everything, your dad showing up like that, and Rafe not running for the door—it was a lot. Too much, maybe.

“I don’t want you to feel like you have to fix anything,” you said softly, flipping the last pancake and turning off the stove. “You can’t fix my dad or the way things are. I don’t want you to try.”

“I’m not trying to fix anything,” Rafe said, stepping closer to you now. “I’m just… I’m here. With you. That’s all I want.”

You felt his hand brush against yours, hesitant at first, like he wasn’t sure if you were ready to be touched. But when you didn’t pull away, his fingers laced through yours, and the warmth of it broke through the dread thad settled over you since your dad walked in.

Finally, you turned to face him, and there it was—that look in his eyes again. The one that said you were more than enough, that he saw you, really saw you, and wasn’t running for the hills. You knew him like the plam of your hand now, and he wasn’t bluffing. He never lied to you.

Your heart did this weird thing, like it flipped and dropped all at once. It was still a little scary to hear him say that. Scary because it meant he was sticking around, and as much as you it scared that was exactly what you wanted. For him to stay.

Because you loved him just as much, and you didn’t mind reminding him every day.

Milo broke the silence, tugging at your shirt again. “Is time f’pancakes now?”

You couldn’t help but smile at the innocence in his voice, the way he had no idea what had just gone down. You bent down to scoop him up, holding him close, the warmth of his growing body keeping you sane in the moment.

“Yeah, buddy,” you said softly. “It’s time for pancakes.”

Rafe watched you, a soft smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. This is why he knew you’d be a good mom one day. He kept that thought in the back of his mind every day since you gave him the bracelet on his wrist.

The way you picked up Milo and smiled—it calmed him down. The whole scene was so you—taking care of things, keeping it together even when everything around you was a mess.

“Eat up, kiddo,” you said, ruffling his hair as he dug in with way too much syrup. 

Then you glanced at Rafe again, your smile still lingering but more reserved, like you were still processing everything.

Milo was halfway through his second pancake, syrup smeared all over his little face, when he looked up at Rafe with those wide, innocent eyes.

“Hey, Rafey, can we go to the park after this?”

You were clearing the plates from the counter, and Rafe caught the quick glance you shot his way. You had a shift starting in an hour, and Milo probably knew it too, even if he wasn’t saying it.

He leaned back in his chair, wiping a bit of syrup off Milo’s cheek with the corner of a napkin. “The park, huh? What’re you thinking, swings? Slide?”

Milo grinned, syrup dripping down his chin. “Both! And the big jungle gym! You said I was big enough for it now, remember?”

He laughed, remembering the time a couple weeks back when Milo had looked at that massive jungle gym like it was Mount Everest, and Rafe told him he was totally ready to conquer it. “I did say that, didn’t I?”

You shot him a look as you grabbed your bag, ready to head out for your shift. “You sure about this?” you asked.

Rafe waved it off. “Yeah, no problem. Milo and I got this.” He grinned at the kid. “We’re gonna hit the park and maybe even stop for some ice cream after if your mom’s cool with it.”

Milo’s face lit up like Christmas morning, and you laughed softly, shaking your head. “You’re spoiling him, baby.”

He shrugged, trying to play it cool, but deep down he liked how easy it felt, like this was where he was supposed to be. “Eh, he deserves it.”

You walked over to where Rafe was still leaning against the counter, and without overthinking it, you leaned in and gave him a quick kiss on the lips.

“Ewwww!” Milo groaned dramatically, scrunching up his face like he just witnessed the grossest thing ever. “Why do you always gotta kiss him like that?”

You and Rafe both burst out laughing, and Rafe shook his head, ruffling Milo’s hair. “Get used to it, bud,” he said, still smirking. “She’s gonna keep doing that.”

“Not in front of me,” Milo said, still looking completely disgusted but clearly loving the attention. “It’s so gross!”

You grinned and gave Rafe a playful tap on the chest. “Guess we’ll have to start sneaking around now.”

Rafe chuckled, pulling you in for another quick peck. “I can live with that.”

Milo let out an exaggerated groan, dramatically slapping his hands over his eyes. “Ugh! I’m never getting a girlfriend if that’s what you have to do.”

“Good,” you said, shooting him a wink. “No girlfriends until you’re thirty.”

Rafe laughed again, and Milo just sighed, completely over it. “Can we just go to the park now? Please?”

You shook your head, smiling at how easily the moment turned light again. “You two have fun. I’ll see you later.”

You headed out the door, the sound of your nephew still groaning in the background making you smile as you went, promising yourself you’d answer whatever questions Rafe had about your parents, the second you two snuggled up in his bed at night.

[momotonescreaming]

All the things I would do

Rating: M | WC: 5.5k | Evan Buckley/Tommy Kinard Relationship Study, Kissing, Mild Smut [Read on AO3]

Buck loved having sex in the loft. He loved having sex with Tommy in the loft.

The way he could drag Tommy upstairs by his hand, fingers entwined, no walls or doors in the way to slow them down. The way he could fall backwards onto his mattress, sending Tommy tumbling on top of him with a playful tug of his hand, falling into place easily. Large thighs bracketing his hips, keeping him pinned, held in place — not that Buck wants to leave when Tommy has him like that.

Hand curling around Tommy’s waist, around his neck, pulling him even closer as Buck smiles into a kiss. His boyfriend (boyfriend!) falling into it naturally, almost entirely in sync. Letting himself be pulled, pinning Buck where he wants him. Bracing himself on the mattress to kiss and kiss and kiss Buck.

Buck’s had sex in the loft before, it’s a fact, logically he knows that it’s technically no different than when he was with Ali or Taylor or Natalia. That Buck and Taylor would hurry upstairs with the same desire and rush to have sex that he and Tommy do.

But it feels different. More. Better. Unlike anything else he’s experienced before.

Like he’s a giddy teenager experiencing dating for the first time combined with the freedom and experience of an adult. Maybe it’s just better with Tommy.

Tommy, who was better than Buck could have possibly dreamed.

Who took his whole world and flipped it upside down. Opened his eyes. He was free and he was Tommy’s. He had a boyfriend who was cool with this being his first relationship with a man (once he had gotten over the initial hurdle and panic, which, fair, Buck felt terrible about it too) because they both knew he was in this with Tommy. He wasn’t one hundred percent sure of what he was ready for — he told Tommy as much — but he meant it when he said he was ready for something with Tommy. He liked Tommy, he wanted to be around him, he wanted to explore what dating this incredible man meant.

This incredible man who was cool with whatever pace Buck wanted or needed to set — whether he wanted to slow down or speed up. Buck wanted to explore it all with Tommy.

Who’s always checking in, making sure Buck’s alright, and it never feels condescending. Partly because Buck actually really appreciates a partner doing that for him, showing that they care and don’t want to pressure him into something he’s maybe not ready for just yet. But also partly because he now knows that Tommy needs it as well. To be the partner he never had when he first came out. Not to say that he doesn’t listen to Buck when he says yes, he’s sure. He wants this. He’s ready. Because Tommy listens when he talks, really listens, and takes him at his word when he says he wants more, they can progress.

So they were taking it at Buck’s pace, and Buck couldn’t be happier. So was Tommy, if what he was telling Buck was any indication. The way he looked at him. And why wouldn’t it be. Tommy kept looking at him with happy, crinkly smiles that took over his whole face. With soft, tender gazes that made Buck feel like he was about to melt on the spot.

When Buck said that all he wanted to do was make out like teenagers, groping on his couch with no intention of going any further — Tommy said of course. And he was a very willing participant. Letting Buck explore his lips, his tongue, the way that he kissed him. Kissing him back. Feeling Tommy’s 5 o’clock shadow against his chin, stubble scratching against stubble. Resisting the urge to lick a hot, wet line in the cleft of Tommy’s chin. Muscled shoulders underneath his grasping hands. Sighing and moaning into Tommy’s mouth at every little reminder about just how masculine Tommy is. And just how into it Buck is. A part of Buck wonders why it took him so long to realise that this was something he was into.

Sharp cheekbones and a jaw so chiselled it was like he was made from marble. Short hair and muscles bigger than his. Buck finds himself moaning the first time he gets pinned underneath his boyfriend and realises that if anything, he’s the smaller one in the relationship. They’re the same height, both muscled, but Tommy’s just slightly broader, with a thick chest and biceps as big as his head. He kind of wants to bite him about it.

It feels easy with Tommy, natural, but not like he’s just falling into it with him like when Buck was in his other relationships. Less like he’s being whisked away in someone else’s current and more like he’s going with the flow. Together. He was choosing Tommy and Tommy was choosing him back. It was an easy decision to make. Like he was talking about with Eddie — they just clicked.

He wants to explore everything with him.

Tommy sent him his first ever dick pic, and it was kind of insane how good it was. Blew his fucking mind. He felt like a teenager again with how horny it made him. He remembers it vividly, Buck lounging on his brand new couch, flipping through channels for something to watch, texting Tommy. His boyfriend recently back from shift in his own house and starting to unwind. Took a shower to clean off the day, got changed, and so Buck flirted a little. Maybe asked for a picture. He felt all giddy and little ridiculous as he did it, excitement bubbling up in his chest as Tommy actually sent a photo back.

Reclined into his mattress, one arm resting above his head, gently flexing. Hair all tousled and curling at the nape of his neck where it was still damp from his shower. He was shirtless, because of course he was, camera angled to show off the full expanse of his torso. Showing off his abs, his scar, his pecs, that Buck definitely wanted to bite. Tommy knows what he’s doing, all casual and cool and Buck really can’t get enough of it. He also kind of wanted to make it the lockscreen on his phone, if he wasn’t sure Eddie and Hen and the rest of the 118 would tease him for it as soon as they caught sight of it.

So, biting lip, Buck sent a photo back. Tried to pose in such a way that was flirty, fun and sexy without him looking like a total fuckboy. Although, Buck thought — Tommy would probably like it if he flexed his bicep or lifted his shirt to show off his abs. Posed like a frat boy, just a little. Because he knows that Tommy’s into him. Doesn’t have to worry about sending a photo that’s too much too fast.

It was exciting, exchanging those photos that got sexier and sexier with each click. Buck unbuttoning his shirt, his jeans. While Tommy tugged at the waistband of his sweatpants. Shucking his pants down his thighs as Tommy sent a photo of him palming himself through the thin fabric of his grey sweats, dick tenting the fabric. And fuck, what Buck wouldn’t give to see that in person. He’d seen people online talk about hot guys in grey sweats before, not thinking much about it, but he gets it now. Slowly starting to forget about angles and flexing his muscles, trying to take the best possible photo for Tommy and focusing on just how fucking hot he felt. Pulse racing, breath coming heavier, excitement running through him. How he wanted to show Tommy just how much he was effecting him.

He was sexting a guy. His boyfriend, even. It was fucking exciting. Invigorating.

And then Buck got his first ever dick pic, and he shamelessly jacked off to thoughts of Tommy in the middle of his living room couch. Didn’t even make it upstairs. Didn’t even think about the possibility of anyone barging into his apartment. Was so caught up in the sight of Tommy — all of him, and damn there was a lot— in the thought of what his dick might feel like in his hands, heavy and warm and velvety skin. What sounds Tommy would be making — moaning like he did in the hospital lobby, gasping and grunting as he got off to thoughts of Buck.

Shirt falling off his shoulders, unbuttoned and baring his naked chest. Pinned on only from the couch underneath him, fabric wrinkling. He didn’t care. Jeans stretched around his thighs, straining as he adjusted himself. Underwear pulled down just enough to expose himself, tucked under his cock, fabric damp with precome. He sent Tommy a photo of that too.

Things progressed easily from there. Buck was all in, no hesitation.

It was like that photo finally broke through the final wall of nerves sitting in Buck’s head — the one of Tommy fisting his hard cock, pretty and pink and leaking, just for Buck. Head thrown back on his bed, exposing the long lines of his neck. That while he was in this, and knew Tommy was hot, had been shamelessly jerking off to thoughts of Tommy — the reality of seeing a cock like that had him a little nervous. It was first. Having a photo made it easier, Buck thought afterwards, breaking through the anxiety of a first time and the what ifs swimming around in Buck’s head.

Tommy was hot. Buck was horny. And he had nothing to be worried about. The heat and the lust and the want rushed through Buck and swept all the anxiety away like a wave.

He wanted phone sex and to come in his pants dry humping with Tommy on the couch. Wanted to drag Tommy into the shower together and get his hands on him. Maybe drop to his knees and ask Tommy to teach him how to suck cock.

And Tommy was there every step of the way.

Dirty talking on the other side of the phone, voice deep and smooth and sending a shiver down Buck’s spine. Relationship still so new but Tommy still somehow knowing exactly what to say to make him groan. To feel the heat pooling inside him as Tommy tells him exactly how he’s going to take him apart. To tell Tommy how good he is at this, how perfect. Tell him about all the things he does to Buck — his racing heart, his stuttering words, wanton moaning into the phone.

Ready and willing to rut against Buck like a teenager, sloppily making out in the living room of Tommy’s house. Never once complaining about the denim of his jeans straining against him as they fuck fully clothed. Pinning Buck to his couch, sinking into the cushions, grinding their clothed cocks together. One hand in Tommy’s hair, mussing up his curls; the other raking down his back. Grasping at fabric, feeling the heat of him, the shifting lines of his muscles. Creeping lower to grab at his ass and swallowing Tommy’s moan as he does so. Writhing and rutting against each other until they came in their pants, and Buck was kind of obsessed of the feeling of Tommy pulsing against him, hot and sticky. It was so hot, they’ll definitely be doing that again if Buck has anything to say about it.

Not to say that’s all their relationship is — sex.

Buck finally got to go on that go karting date — at that track out in the desert he’d been talking about — where he had a lot of fun discovering that Tommy was very good at it, actually. Made sense, since he was very much a car guy. It was kind of a perfect date. Out in the sun, clear skies, doing something exciting with Tommy. Racing around the track, calling out and teasing everytime they passed each other. They made a day of it, going for a drive, Buck holding Tommy’s hand over the Jeep’s gear stick. His boyfriend’s large, calloused hand entwined with his, warm and comforting. He felt lighter on the way home, that now achingly familiar giddy-happiness sitting in his chest like honey. Buck drove home with a grin on his face, hand resting on Tommy’s thigh.

There were other dates of course, where they tried a mini golfing place down by the beach and quickly discovered that they were both sort of terrible at it. Spending hours walking through the park together, just talking and enjoying the fact that he was allowed to hold Tommy’s hand. They re-did their dinner date and actually made it to the movie, sneaking glances at each other in the dark of the theatre.

Tommy was taking him on hikes — at some local trails he frequented, where they were surrounded by nothing but nature and the cloudless sky. In a muscle tee with the sleeves cut off, and his familiar blue gym shorts, Tommy led them up the trail with a grin on his face and a backpack strapped to his back. Water bottle, bug spray, sunscreen, emergency first aid kit. It was nice to date someone who got it, another first responder, someone who was just as prepared as he was. The sun beat down on them as they hiked the trail, sun warming his skin until he felt like liquid gold. Talking about everything and nothing, about calls and documentaries Buck had watched. About what work Tommy was doing on his car and a little more about Harbour Station.

His muscles were warm and he was sweaty by the time they finished the trail, Tommy much the same as he drove them both back to Buck’s loft. Safe to say he was distracted on the ride home. He was sun warmed and sated, watching a bead of sweat drip Tommy’s neck as he sighed into the cool air of the Jeep’s AC. Licking his lips, trying very hard not to think about leaning over the centre console and licking it up. Feeling the saltiness on his tongue, the warmth of Tommy’s skin radiating out, the way his breath would hitch.

But Buck really doesn’t want to risk a car accident and have to call 911 — they’ll never hear the end of it. So he lets Tommy drive, watching him navigate the roads of LA with ease. One hand on the wheel, and the other burning hot as it rests on Buck’s thigh. And then, he invites Tommy back up to his loft with a flirty gaze and a coy tilt to his head. He really doesn’t want this date to end. Buck thinks he could spend hours with Tommy and never grow sick of it, never feel the itch that he needs space.

Tommy agrees.

So Buck spent the elevator ride up to his loft bouncing on the balls of his feet, biting his lip and trying to keep his hands to himself. He won’t be able to restrain himself otherwise, and he really doesn’t want to piss off his neighbours. Tommy gives him a knowing glance out of the corner of his eye, gaze raking over Buck’s body. That familiar smirk on his face. He doesn’t feel objectified, like Tommy’s just in it for his body, he feels wanted. Desired.

It feels like the beginning of something.

Sex might not be the only thing their relationship is — but it is an important part. Hell, Buck was a self proclaimed sex addict for a time. It took a lot of reflection, and a lot of talking through it in therapy, but Buck was now comfortable with the fact that him desiring sex, desiring that intimacy — isn’t necessarily a bad thing. Having a high sex drive isn’t a bad thing. There’s nothing wrong with needing that connection to another person. Unabashed and unashamed. And he wanted that with Tommy.

Buck wanted that connection, that closeness. He wanted to explore sex, explore his bisexuality — with Tommy. Whether it was hard and fast, hot and steamy, or slow and exploring. He wanted it all.

So as soon as they shut the front door to Buck’s loft behind them — they were on each other. Reaching for each other in tandem. Hands grasping at waists and sweaty shirts, Tommy throwing his backpack onto the floor and kissing Buck as soon as he’s free of it. Buck pulling Tommy towards him by his waist, wrinkling the fabric of his sweaty shirt — sending them slamming into the door behind him with the force of it.

He smiles into Tommy’s mouth as his boyfriend brings an arm up to brace himself on the door — using the leverage to slow their descent into the door, just slightly. His heart jumps as he realises what Tommy did — trying to stop Buck from slamming his head into the door — taking care of him, even now. Even still.

Buck slides his hands up Tommy’s shirt, feeling the heat of his skin pressing into the palms of his hands. Burning hot, it’s not enough. Skating along the hardened muscle, the sweat pooling on his lower back. He wraps an arm around him, pulling him closer, closer.

Closing his eyes as Tommy kisses him back. Leaving his arm braced on the door above them, bracketing Buck in, the other burning a hole in his side. All he can smell is sweat and salt and Tommy. There’s nowhere he’d rather be. Kissing him, and kissing him, and kissing him. Prying Tommy’s mouth open with his tongue, wet and hot. Dripping spit down his chin as he sucks on his tongue.

Tommy groans into his mouth, a low rumble, and he can feel every shake of it where their chests press together. Sticking together with sweat. If Buck was less horny, he’d maybe think about how gross they both were, sticky from hours in the sun. But he is, and Tommy is so fucking hot like this. Sweaty and gross and masculine. He grips the fabric of his shirt, and uses the leverage to pull Tommy’s hips into his. Thin fabric of their gym shorts leaving nothing to the imagination. Feeling every inch of him, the thick hard line of his cock.

Then it’s Buck’s turn to moan unabashedly as Tommy starts to gently rut against him. Mouth dropping to his neck as Buck tilts his gaze towards the roof of the loft. Eyes fluttering open, gasping for air, letting his gasps and moans filter out into the open air.

A giggle escapes him. They’re still pressed to his front door.

Tommy slows, pressing wet kisses down his neck. Along the curve and lines of his jaw. Taking his time with each one, deep but not enough to leave marks. Buck finds himself pushing up Tommy’s shirt, exposing his bare chest as he ruts against him.

“Tommy,” he moans, the word shuddering as he exhales, and there must be something in his voice because Tommy pauses. Pulls away from Buck’s neck, leaving behind a hot wet mark that cools in the open air. Buck would pout at the loss of contact if they weren’t pressed together as close as they are.

Tilting his head, raising an eyebrow in that way he does, Tommy looks at him. Mouth twitching up at the corners. He can see how spit-slick and pink they are. He really wants to kiss him again. “Evan.”

“Why’d you stop?” Buck says, smiling. Panting through the words, heat of his skin cooling in the summer air. Running his hands up Tommy’s sides, along the lines and curves of his muscles. Dipping lower, enjoying every inch of their clothed cocks pressing together. Tilting his head to catch Tommy’s gaze, eyes shining. He still feels all giddy and bubbly inside. The heat and desire boiling up with this undercurrent of sheer joy. “I thought we had something good going.”

“We do.” Tommy says simply, smoothly, smiling softly back at Buck as if he has no idea what he’s doing to him. Bringing his hand down from the door above them, dropping to cradle Buck’s face. Hold his haw in his hand, thumb running in gentle circles. Calloused thumb scratching against his stubble. It’s a good sound. “But I was just wondering if we’d be more comfortable in that big fancy shower of yours. There’s room for two, isn’t there?”

“There is now,” Buck says giddily, the smooth tone of Tommy’s voice washing over him, rolling through him. Sending a shiver down his spine, straight to his thickening cock. He’s sure Tommy can feel it. Good. He loves it when Tommy puts the moves on him, and loves being able to show him exactly how much.

He grabs Tommy’s hand, laughing giddily as he pulls them both into the bathroom. Tommy’s chucking behind him, fingers entwined with his. Kicking the door behind them, slamming shut, but neither flinch at the sound.

Tugging gently on their entwined hands, Tommy pulls Buck back into his orbit, reaching out with his other hand to rest on his hip. Steadying them. Bodies pressed together, still warm and sweaty, but the red-hot urgency is cooling.

Buck can go at Tommy’s pace, too. It’s nice, when Tommy lets himself set the lead like this, when he knows it’s something Buck’s into and comfortable with. He bites his bottom lip, plush and pink, drawing Tommy’s eyes down as he gently brings their hips together again. Not moving, not writhing and grinding like he wants to, just pressing the lengths of them together. “Hi.”

“Hi, yourself.” Tommy says back, voice just on the edge of teasing. Buck kind of really wants to keep kissing him. So he does. Eyes fluttering shut as he brings their lips together again, hand resting on the back of Tommy’s head, tangling through his sweat-damp curls. He moans into Tommy’s mouth, deepening the kiss, when Tommy pulls back.

Buck chases his lips with his, almost subconsciously, already so caught up in the feeling of Tommy’s kisses. He’s sort of addicted already, ever since that fateful day in the middle of the loft. What can he say, Tommy’s a good kisser. Good enough to flip his whole world on his head. Open his eyes. Tommy chuckles gently at Buck chasing his lips, gently rubbing his thumb in circles at Buck’s waist.

“Wanna get the shower going for us, baby?” Tommy says, voice deepening as his eyes lock with Buck’s. Squeezing their entwined hands as he takes a step back, increasing the space in between them. Hands anchoring them together, even still, and Buck appreciates it. His heart jumps in his chest as he squeezes back.

“Oh yeah?” Buck flirts, eyes shining as he looks over at Tommy, shining under the overhead lights of the bathroom. “And what are you gonna do?”

“Well I don’t know about you,” Tommy teases, releasing Buck’s hand and smiling. A coy little tilt to his mouth, shining eyes. “But I figured I’d start here.”

And then he’s locking eyes with Buck, gaze darkening, as he reaches an arm behind his head to grip at his shirt and pull it over his head. Buck watches the shifting his muscles as he rolls out his shoulders, the grin on Tommy’s face as he shakes out his hair. As he puts on a little show knowing that Buck is watching.

Trailing down the length of his body, his pecs — shining with sweat, his abs, the trail of hair that dips below his shorts. Buck licks his lips, smirking back at his boyfriend.

“You sure I can’t just stay right here?” Buck teases with a tilt of his head. Angles his body, flexes his restless hands. “Keep watch. Make sure you don’t hurt yourself. I-I’m a firefighter, you know?”

Tommy huffs out a laugh, face crinkling up in that now achingly familiar way as he throws his damp shirt to the ground. Neither of them watch to see where it lands. “I’ll be fine. You can look all you want later.”

“You promise?” Buck flirts, deepening his voice and eyes darkening as he roams his gaze over Tommy’s naked torso.

"I promise," he says, smirking back over at his boyfriend. Teasing. Flirting. Just the way Buck likes.

"I'm gonna hold you to to that," Buck teases back, delaying the inevitable moment where he rips his gaze away from Tommy. From his now exposed chest, the sweaty tanned planes of his skin. Exposed and tempting. He bites his lip, eyes wandering over Tommy one last time. Drinks in the sight of him, the feel of his gaze locked with his.

He eventually gives in and turns to the shower. Opens the door and turns the water on, fidgeting with the controls. Trying to find the sweet pot between too hot and too cold.

Tommy, Buck was learning, was almost always cold. Always wearing an undershirt, or had a jacket thrown over his outfit. Always had a throw blanket draped over the back of his couch, or pulled over his legs. Thrived in the hot summer sun, and loved his showers scorching hot.

Buck was fine with the cold. If anything, the LA sun was an adjustment for him. Was walking around in shirts when everyone else was donning long sleeves. Layers. Found there was nothing wrong with a cool refreshing shower.

Hence, the need to find the sweet spot between not too hot, and not too cold. Logically Buck knew as soon as they were both in the shower together their attention would be drawn away from as something as simple as temperature. Towards sweat and skin and the heat of their bodies pressed together. But he couldn't help but try. Try and make it good for Tommy, for himself, for the both of them together. Find the sweet spot that worked for the both of them.

He wanted to make it work.

Logically he knows that it’s just a shower, that they’ll be distracted soon anyway, but he can’t help but want to make it good for Tommy. Make the water a little hotter than normal, just for him. Show Tommy that he wants to take care of him too, that he’s learning things about Tommy and he wants to keep learning.

There’s a rustle of clothes behind him, a squeak of shoes against tiled floors, barely audible over the sound of the now running shower. Buck bites his lip, barely holding back a grin, as he dutifully continues adjusting the water. Arm reaching in, feeling the water run over his hand. Wet and heating up quickly.

He’s barely focusing on the water. Letting the rush of water splashing against tile wash over him like white noise, absently adjusting the temperature and pressure of the water as he focuses on the sounds behind him. Of Tommy toeing off his shoes and peeling off his socks, placing them in a pile by the door. In that way Buck is noticing he almost always does. His stomach swoops at the thought — that Tommy’s been around enough for Buck to start to notice more of his habits.

Then Buck swears he hears the sound of Tommy’s gym shorts hitting the floor, and he can’t hold back the sharp inhale of air. Warm and cloying with steam, holding in his lungs.

Buck makes himself keep looking at the shower.

Hair at the back of his neck standing on end, goosebumps rolling down his arm as he feels Tommy’s presence behind him. Sweaty, naked, so fucking hot — and Buck’s not looking at him. The unspoken rule that they’ve created, when Tommy took the lead and told him to turn around. Start the shower.

Heat pooling low in his gut, that familiar itch burning underneath his skin, Buck’s in the middle of giving in and turning around anyway when he feels it. His hands on his waist, thick and calloused and burning into his side through the thin fabric of his shirt. Breath hitching as he feels the sheer presence of Tommy behind him.

Tilting his head to try and get a look at his boyfriend behind him, holding in place as Tommy slowly presses closer to him. He catches a glimpse of him smirking, face crinkling up in that way it does, before Tommy squeezes his waist and closes the distance between them.

Buck gasps as he feels Tommy press up behind him, all hard muscles and sweaty skin. Calloused hands holding him tight as Tommy’s cock presses up against his ass. One hand still braced in the shower, feeling the rush of water; the other reaching backwards to try and get a hold of any part of Tommy. To press him even closer, to feel his skin burning into his.

Now that he has this, now that he knows this about himself, Buck really doesn’t know how he didn’t realise this earlier. His attraction to men, and masculinity, and the way it made him feel. Broad shoulders and hands larger than his. Hard muscles and hairy bodies.

But a part of him actually really likes that Tommy was the one who helped him realise. That he’s not just attracted to men, he’s attracted to Tommy. He likes Tommy’s broad shoulders and mechanics hands. His muscles and the snail trail that leads down his abdomen. He likes his short hair and 5 o’clock shadow. He likes the way Tommy makes him feel. He likes the way Tommy shows up for him. To dinner, and to the café, and to hopefully many more.

He really likes the way Tommy is now kissing down his throat, leaving wet marks in his wake. Hands still on his waist, body pressed against him, enveloping his. Buck groans, tilts his head to give Tommy more room, and starts to rut backwards.

“I can’t help but feel,” Buck gasps, as Tommy nips at his skin and quickly soothes the mark with his tongue. “That I’m overdressed.”

“Oh you are, are you?” Tommy murmurs into his skin, and he can feel the sounds vibrating through them, rumbling his chest. “I can fix that.”

And the his hands are dipping lower, skating along his sides before pushing up the hem of his shirt. Achingly slow at first, skin on skin contact sending a shiver down Buck’s spine. Calloused hands sending out sparks. That itch under his skin building again, rising and burning with each inch of skin Tommy touches.

His boyfriend laughs behind him, calls him impatient, before kissing his neck again. And then they’re stripping him down, faster now, hands on waists and chests and grasping at fabric. Tommy pulling off his shirt and Buck kicks off his shoes, not caring where they land. He thinks he absently hears them thump on the wall before Tommy gets his hands on his shorts and all of a sudden Buck is very distracted.

He absently thinks how hot it would be if Tommy just ripped his shorts right off his body, as he grips onto the shower while Tommy slides his shorts and his underwear down his legs in one fell swoop. Hands gripping the waistbands, fingers curled under the elastic, pressed into his bare skin.

As soon as he’s free he grabs Tommy’s wrist and pulls, sending the two of them tumbling into the shower. Water burning hot, soothing worn out muscles and sweaty skin. Tommy dutifully following behind, closing the door behind him.

They instantly forget about the water. Focusing on sweat and skin and soap and their two bodies pressing together. Water soaked kisses where their spit mixes with the spray of the shower. Slick bodies moving in tandem, and yet rooted to the spot.

Tommy’s planting his feet and bracing an arm on the wall behind Buck. He’s making sure they don’t slip, that Buck’s safe in his arms. And if anything, that’s what drives Buck to determination. To grasp their cocks in one hand, to want to make Tommy gasp and moan and grunt as he comes apart.

He loves the noises Tommy makes. Cataloguing them in his head, making note of what he can do to pull a noise out of Tommy. Figuring out what he likes and what he loves. The exploration, the figuring things out has always been a favourite part of sex for Buck. He’s a good fuck, he knows this, but it’s the exploring what his partners like and wants is what really drives him. It’s not enough to be a good fuck in general, he wants to be a good fuck to them.

To Tommy.

He wants to be good for Tommy. To hear him groan and moan Buck’s name. To hear him say perfect, and right there, just like that, and you’re so good to me Evan.

There’s going to be a lot of soft, tender sex in their future, Buck knows this for certain. Doesn’t even have to ask. Tommy will pick him up and carry him upstairs like he weighs nothing, gently lowering him down onto his bed, gaze soft and loving. They’re going to fuck face to face, so Buck can hold Tommy’s hand and they can kiss each other senseless. Slow and sensual, the two of them sinking into the moment as they sink into each other. Kissing all the words that are too soon to say into each other’s mouths.

Buck can’t fucking wait.

[astars-things]

Pls can I request for lukey: reader gets overwhelmed after meeting Luke’s family with “ you never need to apologise to me. ever. and certainly not for crying… ” 🙏

(I can relate to this)

I stood in the mirror, double-checking my outfit, hair and makeup. "Honey you look perfect" Luke said wrapping his arms around me,

“Are you sure?” I asked, tugging on the fabric again. “I just want everything to go well.”

Luke chuckled gently pulling my hands away from the dress and holding them in his. “Y/N, they’re going to love you. I love you, and trust me, they’ll see everything I see.”

His words made me feel a little better, and I squeezed his hand. “Okay,” I said, taking a deep breath. “Let’s do this.”

The drive to the Hughes’ family home was short but felt like it stretched on for hours. My mind kept spinning with all the things that could go wrong. What if I said something stupid? What if they didn’t like me? What if I just didn’t fit in?

When we arrived, Luke squeezed my hand one more time before leading me inside. The warmth of the house hit me immediately. It smelled like home, a mix of cooking and something sweet, maybe cookies.

“Luke!” a familiar voice called from the kitchen. His mom, Ellen, emerged, wiping her hands on a towel, her face lighting up when she saw him. She immediately enveloped him in a hug before turning to me.

“You must be Y/N,” she said warmly, pulling me into a hug too, catching me off guard. “We’ve heard so much about you!”

“Good things, I hope,” I said, trying to make my voice sound steady.

“The best things,” she assured me, her smile kind. “Come on, everyone’s in the living room. We’re just about to start dinner.”

We followed her into the living room where Luke’s dad, Jim, and his brothers, Jack and Quinn, were lounging on the couches. Jack immediately sat up, grinning widely.

“So, this is the famous Y/N, huh?” Jack teased, his playful tone instantly putting me at ease. Quinn gave me a nod and a soft smile from his spot, quieter but no less welcoming.

Dinner started out well. Luke’s family was just as close and loving as he’d described. The conversation flowed, filled with teasing, laughter, and stories about the boys’ childhoods. I tried my best to relax, but I could feel my nerves creeping back in, especially when the conversation shifted toward me.

The questions started coming, all of them well-meaning but overwhelming. They asked about my family, my job, my relationship with Luke, and I suddenly felt like I was under a spotlight.

I tried to keep up, answering politely, but my chest felt tight. I could feel the weight of their attention pressing down on me. The noise of the conversation, the clinking of silverware, and the warmth of the room suddenly felt too much.

My breath hitched, and I excused myself as casually as I could, slipping out of the room and heading for the front porch. The cool night air hit my face as I stepped outside, and I let out a shaky breath, trying to calm myself down.

A few minutes later, I heard the door open behind me. I didn’t need to turn around to know it was Luke. He came up beside me, leaning against the porch railing in silence for a moment.

“I’m sorry,” I whispered, my voice cracking as I wiped a tear that had slipped down my cheek. “I just… I got overwhelmed.”

“Hey, look at me,” Luke said softly, turning to face me. When I met his eyes, they were full of understanding, no judgment. “You never need to apologize to me. Ever. And certainly not for crying.”

I let out a shaky laugh. “But I wanted everything to go well. I wanted them to like me.”

“They do like you,” Luke reassured me, stepping closer and gently pulling me into his arms. “You don’t have to be perfect, Y/N. You just have to be yourself. And trust me, that’s more than enough.”

I buried my face into his chest, his warmth and the steady sound of his heartbeat calming me. “Thank you,” I whispered.

[kpopaussieline]

pairing: bf!Jungwon x fem!reader

Genre: drabble, smut MDNI

A/N: .... I don't even know y'all. My friend was sending me Jungwon stuff and it got out of hand. But we're gonna pretend like me and @un06 are okay 🤡

Warnings under cut

Warnings: mean!Jungwon, dom!Jungwon, name calling (slut, baby, kitten), swearing, mirror sex, doggy style, unprotected sex (No. Just no.), creampie, implied multiple rounds

♢♢♢♢♢♢♢

Jungwon stared at you coldly as you walked into the bedroom. You start taking off your jewelry, minding your own business until you feel his eyes boring into the back of your head, waiting for you to turn around.

You do.

"What's got you so worked up tonight?"

"No need to play dumb, Y/N, you're already stupid enough to flirt with your friend while I was right next to you."

You blink, shocked into silence at his blatant insult. "I'm sorry, what did you just say to me?"

"What, that wasn't clear enough for you?"

Jungwon steps closer, uncrossing his arms. He grabs your arm and tugs you closer.

"Hey–" You go to protest, but his assertive grip lets you know there's no room for argument.

He turns you around and unzips your dress, slipping it off your shoulders, letting it fall to the floor. His touch is so gentle, a stark contrast to his clenched jaw and hard gaze.

"Get on the bed."

You slowly climb onto the bed, sitting on your haunches and looking at him.

He takes in your curves and the cute lingerie set you decided to wear tonight. He swallows, ignoring the tightness in his pants for now.

He unbuttons his shirt and discards it. Your eyes drink in his broad shoulders and lean muscles. God he's divine. And you get him all to yourself. He's all yours, despite him saying it's the other way around.

Jungwon gets on the bed behind you, pushing down on the middle of your back, signalling you to get on all fours. You hear the clink of his buckle, followed by his zipper.

You clench around nothing. Biting your lip as you wait eagerly for his next move.

He unfastens the clasp of your bra, watching it fall away from your chest in the mirror opposite the bed. He smirks with satisfaction before tugging down your panties, pulling them off you roughly.

You whimper quietly as the cool air hits your pussy.

Jungwon sheds the rest of his clothes and your eyes meet in the mirror. He leans down, placing soft kisses on your shoulder and neck.

"So now you decide to behave?"

His hands rest on your hips, thumbs massaging your plush skin. He takes his time kissing a path down your back before straightening up, making eye contact through the mirror.

"Ready, baby?"

You nod, your hole clenching around thin air with anticipation.

He lines himself up with your entrance before pushing inside, not giving you time to adjust. You moan, head dropping as you process the stretch. He bottoms out and waits a second before slowly moving his hips.

He reaches around and lifts your head, making you look in the mirror, at his length slipping in and out of your pussy. "Eyes up, kitten."

He starts picking up the pace and your body rocks with his movements, your tits bouncing hypnotically. He bites his lips, eyes darting between them and your pretty pussy swallowing him so well.

He pushes down on your back, arching it more. You moan as his tip kisses your cervix. Again. And again. And again.

Your eyes close and your head falls back your mouth falls open in a silent O.

Jungwon reaches around with his free hand and pinches your clit. You gasp, opening your eyes.

"Keep watching, baby."

You nod, looking back into the mirror.

He speeds up, his grip on your hip bruising as he guides your hips back to meet his thrusts. The band in your stomach tightens quickly as he hits all the right spots, just like he always does.

He groans as you tighten around him. "He could never fuck you this good, could he?"

You try your best to keep your eyes forward as you shake your head.

"You're mine. You got that, slut? This body, this pussy, is mine."

"Yes, Jungwon," you pant out as you feel your high approaching.

His brow furrows and his eyes flutter closed. "Fuck, you feel so good." He looks in the mirror. "You're taking me so well. See, baby, you were fucking made for me."

You can only manage another nod.

"I'm close, baby," he moans. His fingers find your clit and trace small, quick circles, eager to make you cum before him.

That's all it takes. Your body shakes as your orgasm crashes over you, stealing all your senses and making your eyes roll to the back of your head.

Jungwon follows straight after, coating your walls white as he fucks you through your high.

He stills his hips and pulls out, watching his cum drip out of you as you collapse into the mattress. He uses his fingers to push it back in before getting off the bed and picking up his clothes and walking toward the ensuite.

You sit up, moving to do the same, but he shoots you a look.

"Don't even think about it. We're not done yet, baby. Not until you're full of my cum and you remember who you belong to."

[starryevermore]

dumb love, i love being stupid ✧ ruhn danaan 

angst city™ library |send in a request (consultrequest faqs first)

pairing: ruhn danaan x fem!reader 

summary: you thought you had found your forever, but he wanted to keep it casual. 

word count: 2,346

warnings?: angst city™ bitch, not proofread

“So how’s it going with that one girl? Been seeing her a lot lately.”

“Eh, we’re just keeping things casual,” Ruhn said, eyeing a pretty faun from across the bar. 

You watched as his friend—Declan, you realize—arched a brow, took a long sip of his drink. Ruhn couldn’t stop himself from rolling his eyes as Declan said, “That why you keep bringing her around so much?”

“We both know what this is. I like her company, so I invite her out sometimes. That a crime?” Ruhn didn’t wait for an answer. He set his drink down on the bar and began to make his way to the pretty faun. 

“Guess not.” Declan looked away from his friend, eyes somehow finding yours. Despite the distance and lighting, you couldn’t miss the flash of pity. 

Before he could say anything to you, you turned on your heel, ready to leave the White Raven with whatever scraps of your dignity you had intact. You pushed through the throngs of people, ignoring the annoyed voices of those who you accidentally elbowed in the process. You just needed to get out of there. 

A hand caught your arm just as the exit was finally in sight, pulling you to a stop. “Hey! Where are you going? The fun’s just about to start!” Bryce cheered. Behind her stood Hunt, who offered you a smile and a soft “hey.”

Wriggling lose of Bryce’s hold, trying to maintain an air of playfulness, you managed a laugh. “Some of us have early mornings and can’t party til dawn.”

Bryce rolled her eyes. “Don’t be a buzzkill. Do I need to drag Ruhn out of whatever corner he’s hiding in and convince you to stay?”

Your heart skipped a beat, and you prayed neither Bryce nor Hunt could hear it. “Didn’t realize he was here. Saw Declan for, like, half a second.”

She wiggled her eyebrows at you. “So that’s a yes? Getting your boy toy will get you to stay?”

“He’s not my boy toy,” you said, “and it makes me feel icky for you to call your brother that.”

“You’re no fun!” Bryce whined. 

Hunt, either because he believed your story about an early morning or because he could sense your unease, took Bryce by the waist and slowly began to urge her away. “C’mon, this is a losing battle.”

“Fine, but you’re coming to the party this weekend, right?”

You probably weren’t, but if agreeing was what it took to get out of the White Raven without crying in front of Ruhn’s friends, then that’s what you’d do. “Duh, you think I’d miss it?”

Bryce grinned, and Hunt finally successfully urged her into the crowd to find the rest of their friends. You loosed a breath, rolled your shoulders, and made your escape. No one stopped you again, or even spared you a glance. For that, you were grateful. You weren’t sure how much more people-ing you could handle. 

Unfortunately, you did plan on making one more stop before you went home. 

Ruhn really needed a better hiding spot for his spare key. Was there anything more obvious than a potted plant by the door? It would have been laughable if you weren’t effectively breaking into his home. (Is it really breaking in if you found the key? And when the owner of said key told you where it was hidden?) 

You didn’t bother being quiet, figured that all of the home’s residents were out at the White Raven. Yet, when you shut the door, a voice had you jumping out of your skin. 

“Ruhn come back with you?” Flynn asked, leaning against the entry to the kitchen. 

You tried to steady your breathing and racing heart. “Nah. Think he’s at the White Raven with Declan. I was just swinging by to grab a couple things I left behind.” You held up the spare key for him to see. “Y’all need a better place for this than the only potted plant on the property. You’re practically asking someone to steal all your shit.”

Flynn nodded. “Cool, cool. Shout if you need anything, and try not to rob us blind, yeah?”

“Eh, I’ll leave your shit alone, but can’t say the same for Ruhn and Declan,” you joked despite yourself. 

He snorted out a laugh. “You’re funny. Shame Ruhn got to you first.”

You shrugged. “I’ll only be a few minutes.”

As you walked up to Ruhn’s room, Flynn disappeared into the kitchen. He’d probably leave you alone. As long as you don’t take a long time, probably. You didn’t plan on sticking around, though. You just wanted to grab your things and get out before Ruhn returned with that faun he was eyeing. If he thought this was casual, the last thing he would want is for you to be hanging around while he was trying to get lucky. 

Thankfully, you knew where most of your things were. A couple of shirts thrown in his closet, a jacket strewn over a chair. Some miscellaneous socks mixed in with his laundry. You grabbed your lipgloss you thought you lost from the bathroom, and the pretty hand towel you brought because there was no way in hell you were using the scratchy ones they bought in bulk. Your favorite bras, buried in the top dresser drawer. 

Once you were satisfied you got everything you cared about, you made your way out of the home, praying that you wouldn’t run into Flynn again. 

He was on the couch when you came out. He eyed the bundle of clothes in your arms. “Moving out?” he teased. 

“Getting this stuff out before he thinks I’m trying to move in.”

“You and I both know Ruhn wouldn’t mind if you did. Honestly, he’d probably be more offended you were sneaking all that shit out.”

Liar. “Eh, I need to wash all this and I don’t trust you idiots to not fuck all my nice stuff up.”

Flynn laughed, throwing his head back. “You make us sound like beasts!”

“Excuse you, I was here when your sheets were stained pink after a sock made its way into the machine, and when half of Ruhn’s clothes got bleach stains after one of you forgot to rinse out the drum,” you giggled.

Fuck, you wished you had fallen for Flynn instead. Or even Declan. They were easy to talk to, and wouldn’t make you feel like an idiot for thinking that something more than casual was going on. That was more your fault than anything, you supposed. You knew who Ruhn was when he approached you at the White Raven all those months ago. He never tried to hide who he was. You were the idiot who thought he might settle down.

“Fair enough,” Flynn laughed. “Hey, you be careful alright? Ruhn’d kill me if you got hurt after leaving here.”

You were already hurt, but Flynn didn’t know that. Didn’t need to know that. “Yeah, yeah, whatever, you mother hen.”

Flynn flipped you off as you left, still laughing. The bitter part of you thought he was laughing at you, knowing how big of an idiot you were. The more rational part knew he was just having a nice time joking around with you. Whatever. You probably weren’t going to be seeing him around much either way. 

Loud knocking on the door woke you up. When you glanced at your phone for the time, it was barely one in the morning. Several more hours until you would need to start the day, and way too late for anyone to be bothering you right. With a groan, you got out of bed, wrapped yourself up with a robe, and went to the door, fully prepared to chew out whoever was interrupting your beauty sleep. 

You yanked open the door. Ruhn stood on the other side. Whatever steam you had rising up inside you dissipated when you saw him. 

Pulling the robe closer around you, you asked, “What are you doing here?” More questions stayed locked in your mind—Why aren’t you home? Why aren’t you with that pretty faun? 

“Flynn said you stopped by to get some of your things,” Ruhn said. “Looked like you took more than a few. Just wanted to see if you were alright.”

You opened the door wider so he could see into your small apartment. You gestured to the couch, where your laundry basket sat, topped off with the clothes you took back from his place. “Was needing to do laundry,” you lied. “Wanted to make sure all my stuff got washed.”

He pouted—actually pouted. “I could’ve done that for you.”

“It’s no big deal—”

“Or you could’ve done it at my place. Throw in a couple of my things if you didn’t have enough for a load,” he continued. Ruhn took a step into your apartment. You took a step back. “I like having your stuff around.”

“It’ll all probably end up there again anyways,” you shrugged. You doubted it. Ruhn might have wanted to keep this casual, but you weren’t that sort of person. You craved intimacy, the closeness of a relationship. If Ruhn wouldn’t offer that, you didn’t see the point in sticking around. 

Ruhn’s violet eyes searched yours. You weren’t sure what he was looking for. It would probably be easier to walk into your mind than try to pick it up with context clues, but you also didn’t want him anywhere near your head. You didn’t want to hear any excuses he had. Anyways, Ruhn was good about staying out of your mind. He said he didn’t want to violate your trust. What a joke. “Why didn’t you talk to me tonight?”

“Huh?”

“Dec said he saw you, and Bryce said you two talked. I was there, too. I know we didn’t plan on doing anything tonight, but I would’ve liked for you to say something.”

You crossed your arms over your chest. “Why are you really here, Ruhn? I know it’s not because I got my things or didn’t talk to you tonight.”

“Are we good?”

The scoff fell from your mouth before you could stop it. Seriously? Why did he even care? If this was casual, why did he care about your feelings? “You don’t have to pretend, Ruhn. I know you want to keep this casual.”

Ruhn blinked, slowly working his jaw. “What are you talking about?”

“If you want this to be casual, that’s fine. I mean, you wish you had told me that, but I can’t change the past. If you want, you know, company or whatever, that’s okay. But I’m not that sort of person. Let’s not let feelings get any more involved than they already are.”

Realization dawned in his eyes. It took him long enough. Ruhn was far from stupid. It didn’t make sense for it to take this long for it to all click. “You heard me and Dec.”

“And saw you with the pretty faun.”

Ruhn looked away. His jaw clenched and unclenched. “I didn’t realize you were there.”

“Does it matter that I was? I mean, if this is casual, you can flirt with anyone you want. You can fuck anyone you want.”

“Stop saying that,” he near-growled. You raised your brows. What right did he have to get upset? At you no less? Fuck, you needed to put an end to all of this. Tonight. Now. 

You couldn’t hide your own ire as you said, “Why? Only you get to call it casual? I get to sit around thinking that maybe you actually give a shit about me, that you want to stick around for the long term, but you get to sleep with half of the city. Do I have that right?”

“No.”

“No, I think I do,” you said. You reached out, started to push him toward the door. Ruhn snatched your hand and tugged you against him. “Ruhn, let me go.”

“No.”

“Let me go and get the fuck out of here.”

“No,” he insisted. It was hard to ignore the desperation in his voice, but you weren’t going to fall for any of his tricks. You fell for enough of him already. 

Tears pricked at your eyes. Godsdammit, you weren’t going to cry in front of him. He didn’t deserve to see you so vulnerable. Not anymore, at least. “I am not going to be the idiot in love with you,” you said, your voice thick, “not when you don’t give a shit about me.”

Ruhn’s eyes flashed. With what, you weren’t certain. “I fucking care about you!” he shouted. Oh, what you would’ve given to hear that just hours ago. Now, it meant nothing. 

“No. You either lied to Declan about this being casual, or you lied to me about wanting something with me. Either way, you lied. You do not lie to the people you care about.” You wrenched yourself away from Ruhn, grabbed the door, and pointed out to the hall. “Go. I won’t ask again.”

“I want to talk about this.”

You gestured into the hallway again. “I have nothing left to say. I’ve got neighbors, Ruhn, and you’re probably waking up the whole building.”

He said your name, so softly your resolve nearly crumbled. But you looked away, steeled yourself. You weren’t going to let yourself be treated like shit just for a fae who would never respect you. 

“Lose my number.”

Ruhn stepped toward you. He stopped right in front of you, brushed away a strand of hair that fell in your face. His eyes scanned over you, as if memorizing you. But you wouldn’t look at him. Couldn’t. Then he stepped through the threshold of the door, and you shut the door before he could say anything else, twisted the locks before he could try to open it.

You pressed your back against the door and sank down to the door. Face pressed against your knees, you began to cry, and you pretended you couldn’t hear Ruhn still standing on the other side. 

It was better off this way. 

[jermer10]

Could I ask for all of the tf2 mercs getting saved in a fight by the reader in a very dramatic/romantic way? Something like the reader using a shield to protect them from bombs/bullet while they pull the merc close to them? I think it would just be real funny for the mercs to be in the "damsel in distress" position. (If not all mercs then please atleast Demo, Engie and Sniper)(I love your writing by the way)

TF2 damsels in distress

gn reader | thank u for the ask anon!

includes: demoman, engineer, sniper

drabbles under the cut :P

Demoman: The battlefield is a mess of explosion and chaos. Demo’s got that wild grin plastered on his face as he tosses grenade after grenade - he’s in his element, laughter bubbling up between the sounds of battle. But in his enthusiasm, he doesn’t notice the enemy bomb rolling straight for him, its timer ticking down far too quickly. Before he can react, you dive in front of him, shield raised. The explosion rocks the ground, but the shield holds, keeping both of you safe. Without a second thought, you pull him close, his face pressing into your chest as you shield him from any further debris.

Demoman blinks up at you, dazed and disoriented. “By the gods... ye just saved me arse!” He’s half laughing, half in shock, his arms coming up to cling to you, despite himself. “Didn’t know I’d need savin’ today, but I ain’t complainin’!” He looks up at you with a cheeky grin and flushed cheeks, throwing a dramatic arm around your waist. “Ach, me hero! How can I ever repay ye for rescuing poor ol' me?” he teases, though there’s a genuine gleam of gratitude in his eyes. You smirk down at him, hand still firmly on his back. "Just stay alive, Dem."

Engineer: Engineer wipes the sweat off his brow, wrench in hand as he hurries to fix his sentry. The fight’s getting heavier, bullets flying, but his focus is on his machinery. He doesn’t even notice the red sniper dot that’s settled on his chest until it’s too late. But just as the shot rings out, you’re there. You lunge in front of him, shield raised, and the bullet ricochets harmlessly off its surface. You pull him close, pressing him into your side as you block any further shots.

Engineer blinks, wide-eyed, and his wrench slips from his grasp. “Well, I’ll be damned…” His face flushes red as he realizes what just happened—he’s in your arms, safe, and you just saved his hide. “Didn’t expect to be the one gettin’ rescued today,” he mutters, a sheepish grin spreading across his face. He’s clearly flustered, trying to play it off cool. “Guess I owe you one, huh?”

You glance down at him with a smirk, enjoying the rare sight of the usually composed Engineer looking like the damsel in distress. “Don’t worry, I’ve got you covered.” He chuckles, shaking his head in disbelief. “Ain’t often I get to be on this end of things. Much obliged, darlin’.” With a wink, you pull him back onto his feet, though he sticks close for a few moments longer, still rattled—and more than a little impressed.

Sniper: Sniper’s crouched in his usual perch, scope trained on the battlefield, picking off targets with precision. But even he can’t see everything, and when a stray enemy flanks him, gunfire erupts in his direction, too fast for him to react. Just before the bullets tear through him, you dive in, shield up. The bullets bounce off with a metallic clang, you grab Sniper’s collar, yanking him down and pulling him close to your chest.

He lets out a soft grunt of surprise, completely caught off guard as you press him into you, shielding him from further danger. Sniper, the lone wolf, the sharpshooter, now cradled in your arms like some helpless civilian. “What in the…?” He stares up at you, wide-eyed, his hat knocked askew. You smirk down at him, teasingly. “Don’t worry, I’ve got you.” For a long moment, he’s just quiet, still processing the fact that you—not him—were the one doing the saving. Slowly, a small, lopsided grin tugs at the corner of his mouth, his cheeks flushing red. “Not used to being on this side of things.”

“You’re welcome,” you murmur, still holding him close. He lets out a soft laugh, looking both amused and embarrassed as he adjusts his hat. “Reckon I’ll owe ya for that one,” he mutters, still looking a little flustered. But he doesn’t move away immediately, instead staying close for just a bit longer, his quiet gratitude lingering between you.

[ssailormoonn]

❛ I'VE GOT YOU ❜

Uchiha Itachi X Fem!Reader

WC; 1.8k+ | !MDNI! | TW/CW :: x fem reader, oral -> female recieving, reader is feeling a lil sad and itachi makes her feel better, ofc don't do this irl (if smo is feeling down the solution is sex, bc no it is not, this is purely fictional)

˚ ༘ * 𝑅𝐸𝒬𝒰𝐸𝒮𝒯 :: (filled request) hii hope you’re well! can i request itachi x fem or gn reader comfort sex? i need him so bad rn it’s not even funny - ANON

m.list | naruto/boruto m.list | uchiha m.list

You get home to your apartment and you see your man in the kitchen, seems like he just came to see you because he was still donned in his Akatsuki cloak.

"Itachi," you whispered.

"It's late," his voice was soft, concern laced in his words, he must have realised that you had come home from work later than usual.

You didn't have a good day, not at all.

You sink into the couch, your body against the plushness of the cushions. You feel the couch shift as he sits beside you, his cloak discarded to only grey pants and a shirt underneath. For a moment, there was no speaking. He didn't push, didn't ask what was wrong. He just knew when to give you space.

You tried to steady your breathing, but when he sat down beside you, you let it go. Your shoulders shook and a choked sob escaped before you could stop it. Your cheeks streamed with tears as the weight of the day crashed on you all at once.

Itachi leaned in closer without a word. His hand reached out and lay against your back, reassuring in its touch. Warm fingers mapped slow, comforting circles across your back as he let you cry.

"You don't have to explain," he said softly-barely more than a whisper above silent. "I'm here."

His words snapped something in you, and then you knew you had turned into him, burying your face in his chest. His shirt felt cool against your skin, while his body was warm. You clung to him, your hands clutching the material of his shirt, as your sobs wet the cloth. He held you tightly, yet tenderly, never once drawing away.

"You're allowed to feel this," Itachi whispered some time later, his lips brushing against the top of your head. "You don't have to be strong all the time."

His arms wrapped more closely around you, his fingers threading softly through your hair. You could feel the steady rise and fall of his chest, the beat of his heart beating now to the same speeed as yours. He pressed his chin against the top of your head.

After a few minutes of this, your sobs finally died down and left you with deep exhaustion. You just remained there, tucked against him, not wanting to move yet.

"Itachi." you whispered, your head rising just slightly so you could look up at him. His eyes met yours, deep, dark eyes that always seemed to understand you in ways no one else did.

His hand brushed against your cheek, wiping away one errant tear with the pad of his thumb. He leaves his hand there long enough that your breathing hitches a bit, a warmth starting to build in your chest. His fingers trace along your jawline-soft, unhurried.

You leaned into his hand, closing your eyes for a moment as one let the sensation wash over him. The light caress of his fingertips danced down your back; a soft shiver overspread you, and opening your eyes again, you found him watching you, his gaze steady yet deeper with something that quickened the beat of your heart.

His forehead finally came to rest against yours. His breathing grazed your lips, and your heart was racing with the thought of how much closer the distance between them was getting. His hand tracing around your cheek a moment before now made its way down to rest on your neck. His thumb lightly brushed over the sensitive pulse point of your neck. The simple touch sent shivers across your skin, and you swallowed hard while trying to steady your breathing.

"Itachi...", you whispered lowly.

His hand on your neck tightened infinitesimally, his other arm wrapping around your waist as he tugged you closer to him-you felt the firm warmth of his body through his shirt.

"Itachi," you said again, but with a lot more purpose this time as your fingers curled into the fabric of his shirt and you looked up at him, searching eyes for what came next. There was something magnetic in the way he looked at you; his silence a great deal more than any words.

He leaned in toward me, his lips barely touching mine-light as a whisper-but to his nerves, it was a raging fire. It seemed he waited, tested the waters gave one the chance to retreat if so wished-but I did not. That light teasing touch from his lips had sent a surge of heat through me, and before I knew it, I leaned the rest of the way in, closing the gap completely.

The kiss was slow, deliberate. His lips danced against yours, leaving you out of breath, his hand on your neck guiding you with ease. It was as if the world melted away and, in its place, there was only the two of you.

His heart rate showed in the clutch of fingers that closed on your waist, pulling you closer still until no space existed between bodies. A soft moan escaped your throat, his kiss deepening, his tongue slipping past your lips to taste you with a languorous sensual intensity. You gasped against him, your hands shifting from his cloak onto his chest-hard muscle beneath his shirt. His lips left yours, trailing down your jawline, down toward your neck, sending shivers down your spine. "Itachi..." His name fell from your lips again this time more breathless, more needy as you leaned to the side, granting him further access. He required no further encouragement. His mouth found the sensitive skin of your neck, kissing and nibbling lightly, sending waves of pleasure across your body. His hands slid lower, coming to rest on your hips, his thumbs stroking over the skin just beneath your shirt. The light touch was enough to set your senses alight, and you arched into him, your body responding to every one of his movements. "You're beautiful," he murmured against your skin, low and husky, the words sending a thrill through you. His lips moved back up to capture yours once more in a kiss that was hotter, more urgent this time. His body pressed against yours in a way that left no doubt about where this moment could lead. "Is this okay?" he asked softly, voice low a hum, eyes searching yours for confirmation. His thumb brushed over your lower lip. You nodded, breathless, lips swollen. "Yes, Itachi... And with that, his lips were back on yours again, and the world faded to black once more as you let go, completely, into his arms. "I'll take care of you, don't worry, you want me to, darling?" he asks.

"Please," you whimper as his teeth graze your neck before he strips the clothes off of your body. 

And now, your legs over his shoulders and your head thrown back against the plushy pillow beneath your head on the couch. There was also a smaller pillow propped underneath your hips, Itachi said that it would make it more comfy for you and it did. He always worried about your pleasure and comfort.

"I-Tachi," you whimper out as his nose bumps against your clit.

"Are you okay?" he asks, worried about how much your voice was whimpering at the small amount of contact with your most sensitive area.

You squirm under the hold Itachi's hand on your thighs, back subtly arching into his face, wanting to indulge further in his touch.

"Yeah," you say breathlessly.

"You'll be alright, my love," Itachi reassures, placing soft and fluttery kisses on your stomach.

You shiver underneath the simple gestures, awaiting when he puts his tongue and fingers to use.

"'M know, Itachi," you replied, your fingers interlacing with his long black hair which was now free from his hairtie. 

Itachi descends once more to your most sensitive area, your soaked cunt. "Tell me if it's too much."

"You never hurt me, 'tachi," you said while a shaky breath leaves your mouth.

A whimper leaves your mouth when he places a kiss on your clit and your thighs clench around his head. You attempt to arch away from the overwhelming sensation but Itachi's grip keeps you in place.

"L-Love," you moan out.

"I know, darling," Itachi reassures. "It's okay, I'm here, tell me if it's too much."

Once more, Itachi's nose brushes up against your delicate clit, and your grip on his hair tightened. A satisfied sigh seeps through him into your folds as a mewl from your full lips.

"Are you okay?" he asks before licking a long stripe up your folds and you moan, your back arching and your cunt pressing further into his face which he relished in.

You whimpered before answering, trying to gather your scattered thoughts, "Yeah, 'm am, Itachi."

He loves you so intensely it hurts, and your response makes his heart sing. His tongue climbs up from your wet hole to your clit while you let out a moan. Your thighs tighten around his head as a result of his constriction, and as you grind down on his face, a moan echoes through your clit. Your lips were filled with chants of his name, and he relished every moment of it.

"Itachi, f-feels s' good," you moan, tears welling in your lash line, he was making you feel so good.

"You're okay?" Itachi asks.

When you feel a thick finger push past your closing walls, you furiously nod your head, your eyes expand, and you cry with delight. It felt so fantastic that you never want it to finish, even though you thought you would break because he was so huge.

His finger pressed up against that soft spot inside your walls. Itachi was slow with his pace as he curled his fingers every time he entered your cunt, along with sucking and licking at your puffy, sensitive clit.

"You're being so good, you're doing so well," Itachi moans against you, refusing to rut his hips into the mattress, this was your pleasure, not his own.

A moan arouses from you and your hips grind themselves onto his face. He let you for once have some sort of control over the situation, and he decided that if you came quicker he'll let you do it more often. "That's it," he praised.

His motions become more rapid and needy as you cry his name through broken letters, and the one hold he held on your leg tightens. Your stomach coil tightened, and your fingers wrapped around his locks to stop him from moving and make him sigh deeper into your folds.

The only thing the groans did was push you over the edge, and when he placed his tongue firmly against your clit, a quiet scream from your lips. Your stomach coil unwound, soaking his face completely.

He slowly removed his fingers from your drenched pussy, your cum spilling out from your puffy folds. Before rising his head, he places a kiss on your clit and your mewl softly in overstimulation.

"Are you alright, love?" he asks worried, kissing away the pleasure-caused tears streaming down your cheeks and the side of your face. "Do you feel better."

You were so tired just after that one orgasm and Itachi seemed to notice and he lifted you from the couch so that you were able to rest on him, snuggling up against him on the couch now. "Thank you, Itachi."

"Anything for you."

Do not copy, steal, modify, etc. Relogs and like are appreciated.

m.list | naruto/boruto m.list | uchiha m.list

[madhatterbri]

Filling | D.M.

Summary: A pie isn't the only thing that gets filled. 18+.

Authors Note: Happy first day of fall, y'all.

Drew McIntyre Masterlist

Taglist: @theworldofotps @smallestsnarkestgirl @keytothewardy @magicalbuttertarts @new-zealand-chic

Drew stopped in his tracks the moment he saw Y/N in the kitchen. The flannel he wore the night before covered her top. Short pajama bottoms barely covered her ass. The woman was trying to kill him. He just knew it.

"Morning," Drew greeted. He walked towards her. A bowl of pie filling laid before her. He moved her hair to the other side and kissed her neck. A shiver ran down her spine.

"Good morning, yourself," she hummed. His hands slid underneath the flannel shirt. Rough hands tickled her soft skin.

"I have got to say. The shirt looks a lot better on you than me," he commented. Y/N felt the shirt raise higher. The Scottish devil was trying to get a repeat of last night.

"And it will be staying on me," she informed him. Y/N swatted his hands away. He pouted yet pulled away from her. She turned around and sat on the kitchen counter. "Can you hand me a spoon, please? I want to try some to see if I need to add anything?"

Drew grabbed a wooden spoon. He scooped some of the filling in the spoon. The wrestler moved to serve her. She opened her mouth early to taste the sweet treat. Accidentally, as Drew insisted, some of the cool filling fell down on her chest.

She gasped and looked down. "Can I have a napkin, please?"

Drew had another idea.

He gripped the flannel shirt and ripped it open. She squeaked as her chest was now exposed to him. When she didn't hide herself, he leaned down and licked the filling slowly. His skilled tongue licked lower to her nipple. He sucked her nipple. Teeth grazed over the sensitive peak.

"Drew," she moaned. She clenched her legs. The tingling between her legs was a direct reaction from his teasing. He started to kiss up her chest and to her neck. His hand gripped her neck. His lips teased the shell of her ear.

"You cost me my flannel. I feel like this warrants a punishment. Bend over the counter and don't make me repeat myself,"

Drew took a step back. She slid off the counter. The wooden spoon fiddled in his fingers. He wanted her to know his instrument of the punishment. Timidly, she turned around and bent over. Her open palms and bare chest pressed against the cool countertop. Her face turned to the side in order to count.

His hands rubbed up her inner thighs. Her legs parted wider as his hands explored higher. The spot between her legs tingled more for him. He was so close to touching her, but he pulled away. She knew better than to show any signs of disapproval. It would just add to the punishment.

His fingers found their way to her shorts waistband and panties. With bent fingers, little effort was used to slide them down her legs. They pooled at her bare feet. She knew better than to kick them away.

"Maybe now you will learn to ask for permission to borrow my clothes. I expect to see you in that flannel for the rest of the day," he told her. She nodded and blushed darkly. His hands found their way on her bare ass.

He kneaded into her flesh. The massage started to calm her nerves. She visibly relaxed. His distraction worked in his favor. The wooden spoon struck her right cheek. She gasped and bit her lip. The wooden spoon left a red line and a nice sting.

"One,"

Drew smiled at the count. She was such a good girl for him. Well, when she wanted to be. He paced each smack of the wooden spoon. Some were in quick succession while others were spaced apart. Drew didn't want her to expect the spanks. Nonetheless, she counted each one to his liking.

"This hurt me more than it hurt you," he attempted to assure her. Drew placed the spoon down in front of her face. This is a reminder of what was to come if she disobeyed. His hands rubbed her bare ass once more. A hiss fell out of Y/N. She wanted to move from his touch. Her breath sucked in when his hands explored lower.

His middle finger slid ever so slowly between her slit. His hand rubbed up and down. Another finger, his ring finger, joined in the teasing. He spread her lips apart before allowing them to close several times. Her juices covered his fingers.

"Hands behind your back," he ordered. A soft slap to her bottom to show the urgency in following his simple order. No hesitation when the message was read loud and clear. Her wrists lay on top of one another on her back.

The same two fingers toyed with her once more. This time, they found their way to her entrance. He teased her. Only allowing up to his fingernails inside of her. Her walls clenched around them to keep him in. Y/N closed her eyes to keep from getting frustrated. Drew loved when she was patient.

With no warning, his fingers slid inside of her. She sighed in relief. Her walls clamped down around his fingers. Drew thrusted his fingers in and out. Her hips pushed back against him as if to allow him to go deeper. He showed mercy this time. Her actions went on without risk of punishment.

Her breathy moans started to pick up. No matter the situation, her body craved his touch. Drew curled his fingers. A whine of his name filled the cabin kitchen.

"Oh, Drew,"

Satisfied, he removed his fingers. Y/N caught her breath. Her eyes fluttered closed as she waited for his next plan. Unable to see him, the rustling of the clothes was the only indicator of what was to come. His jeans were kicked away once they pulled around his feet.

The Scotsman rubbed her hips and outer thighs. The tender moment cut short when he placed her bent leg on the countertop. He reveled at the sight of her. She was so exposed to him. All for him.

Drew wasted little time. She jerked slightly when he pushed himself inside of her. Her eyes opened. Their breathing picked up. He went slow. This was a punishment for her, after all. He allowed himself in a little at a time before pulling out. An amused smirk on his handsome face. Y/N was frustrated yet didn't dare to say anything.

Showing mercy, he thrusted all the way in. His pelvis smacked against her ass. He repeated this a few times before picking up the pace. With her hands still behind her back, he gripped her wrists in his hand. His other hand was placed on the counter behind her head for better leverage.

Her body clamped around him the moment he picked up his pace. He swore he saw her eyes roll to the back of her head. She swore she saw stars. When he thrusted forward, Drew pulled her towards him. With her leg propped up, she swore he reached places no man had before.

"My good little baker. Baking a pie for our friends for later. If only they could see you now," he chuckled. Her mouth hung open, eyes rolled, toes curled, and a thin sheet of sweat covered her body. She nodded. His words sounded so far away.

"So close," she warned.

"I've got you, love," he assured her.

Drew's eyes roamed over her body again. When she first suggested a cabin for the weekend, he was a little perplexed. After last night and this morning, he could see her reasoning. No cell service. No distractions. Just the two of them catching up from his busy work schedule.

He let go of her wrists. She moved them away and rolled them around gently. The position made her a little stiff. His now free hand roamed by rubbing her back, butt, and settling to the bundle of nerves between her legs.

Y/N cursed as her orgasm seemed to come at a much quicker pace. His skilled fingers manipulated her to her peak. His thrusts grew sloppier as time went on.

"Drew!"

With one last cry of his name, Y/N comes on his cock. Her fingernails left crescent moon indents in her palns. He thrusted himself fully one last time and stilled. His cum filling inside of her. Never allowing himself to finish first, he placed both his hands on the counter.

Her legs shook under her. She would be on the floor if it wasn't for the countertop and Drew. When ready, he pulled himself out of her. The tell-tale sign of their dirty deed rolls down her thighs. He grabbed a kitchen towel and wiped away the evidence.

With a secure arm around her waist, he helps her off the counter. Her body is sore from the position, but she is satisfied. Her bare back pressed to his bare chest. He whispers sweet nothings in her ear. Soft, gentle kisses left on her cheek.

He spun her around and sat her on the countertop. Their foreheads pressed together. Drew is still trying to gather enough strength to take them to the bathroom to bathe. He kissed her gently. His fingers ran through her hair before nestling any loose strands behind her ear.

When enough time passed, he scooped her up in his arms. Her arms wrapped around his neck. Legs were wrapped around his waist. Her head rested on his shoulder. Before drifting off to sleep, she looked at the counter. The bowl of filling left temporarily forgotten on the counter.

[ladykailitha]

Of Butterflies and Backstrokes Part 5

Hey guys!! Things are finally starting to move in this story, I'm not sure how much longer we have, but I just started Eddie's training, so whooo!!

In this we have Eddie being dumb, fixing it, and then apologizing properly! He can be taught!

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4

~

Robin smacked the back of Steve’s head as she walked past. “No staring. It’s creepy!”

Steve ducked his head and blushed. He had been caught staring so many times today that, yeah, it was starting to be a little creepy now. But in all fairness, Eddie was staring right back. A thought that sent Steve spiraling. But like in a ‘oh shit, that’s hot!’ way.

Which he really, really needed to tamp down on, because yes, the guy was eighteen, but like barely.

“You should just go talk to him,” Robin encouraged gently. Because for all her teasing, she knew how important it was for Steve to talk to him about his swimming.

Steve nodded. He had time until his next class. He took a deep breath and squared his shoulders. He walked up to Eddie and flashed him his patented Harrington smile.

“Hey, you’re Eddie, right?” he said warmly. “Robin tells me you like to swim on Saturdays, yeah?”

Eddie blinked at him for a moment. “Um, hi. Yup! That’s me. My mom used to call me her little fish.”

Steve grinned. He liked that. He wished his mom had taken that kind of interest in his swimming. “I saw you swimming when I was helping Joyce set up for the party last weekend and you were really good! Did you compete in high school?”

“Nah,” Eddie said with a shrug. “I wanted to, but I couldn’t get someone to take me that early in the morning so I stopped. Competed in middle school, though. I was decent enough, I guess.”

Steve was shocked. To have to stop just when you hit your stride must have been quite the blow.

“That fucking sucks, man,” Steve said with a grimace. He scratched his cheek thoughtfully. “You ever think about competing on the national level? Because I really think you could.”

Eddie rolled his eyes with a scoff. “Yeah, right. I couldn’t afford the coach let alone all the traveling I’d have to do to make it to meets. I’m going to have to pass on that one.”

“There’s actually a program here for people who can’t afford it,” Steve hedged. “Robin used it when we both first started out.” He was fighting back the urge to start biting his nails.

Eddie’s eyes narrowed and Steve gulped. “Is that so?” He nodded. “Well ain’t that nice. Still not interested.”

Steve wished the floor would swallow him or that pool would suddenly flood or that he’d get a brain aneurysm and die, right there on the spot. He pursed his lips together and nodded with his whole upper body. He turned on his heel and walked away.

When he was about to the other side of the pool, Eddie called out, “Who would even want to coach me?”

Steve turned around with a grin. “I would.” Then he spun on his toes and walked out of the pool area to the cool fresh air of the hallway.

~

Once Steve was out of the pool area and into the hall, he had a full on panic attack. He sank to the floor and held his head in his hands. Why the fuck did he offer to coach Eddie? He didn’t know Eddie, he was afraid of deep water, and he hadn’t even talked to Joyce yet.

It was a real mess now, but the words just forced themselves from him and now he wants to gobble them back up. Well maybe they’ll just avoid each other from now on. They had done a pretty good job up to this point, they could just continue as normal and forget all about how Steve made a fool of his himself.

Then slowly he began to come out of his panic attack to the sounds of soft words and the gentle rubbing of his wrists with their thumbs. His breathing evened, his heart rate dropped, and his eyes fluttered open.

The eyes looking back at him were warm chocolate brown and deeply concerned. The angel in front of him said something but Steve couldn’t hear. Then all at once all the sounds came rushing back into the hall. And suddenly there were more people in the hall with him than he thought. In addition to Eddie who was the one holding his hands, Robin and Joyce were there too.

“I think he’s coming around,” Joyce said gently as Steve’s eyes focused on her. “Hey, there, Steve. Are you okay now?”

Steve gulped, nodding. He was feeling better. In fact he didn’t have a pounding headache like he usually had after an episode. “My head doesn’t hurt.” He looked over at Robin in confusion. “Why doesn’t it hurt?”

“Uh...” Eddie said hesitantly. “I might have something to do with that. I used some calming techniques my friend’s dad showed me.”

Steve turned to him, mouth open in awe. “Oh. Thank you.” He didn’t know what to do with that because technically it was his conversation with Eddie which caused the panic attack in the first place. But maybe that’s why Eddie helped, because he knew he’d caused it. That was a nice thought, Steve supposed.

Eddie smiled and stood back up. “I have to get back to work. You take care of yourself, okay Stevie?”

Steve nodded and Eddie slapped his hands on his knees, standing up. He muttered goodbye to the two women and then wandered off.

As Robin helped him to his feet, she said dryly, “I take it the conversation didn’t go well.”

He barked out a laugh causing Joyce to look back and forth between them in confusion. So Steve put her out of her misery. “I was telling him that he was good enough of a swimmer to compete, but I think he thought I was mocking him or something, because he kinda blew me off.”

He rubbed his temples for a moment before adding. “I even offered to coach him.”

Joyce blinked at him for a moment. “You offered what now?”

When he looked up both Robin and Joyce were looking at him with large, wide eyes and slack jaws. “Yeah, that’s kinda what started the panic attack if I’m honest. I know I am like the worst person for the job with all my...” he waved his hand helplessly. Then he snapped his fingers. “Issues. Anyway. It was nice of him to help me out after all that.”

“Dingus...” Robin said with a heavy sigh. “What were you going to do if he accepted?”

Steve grimaced and ducked his head. “Have you help me?” He looked up at her through his eyelashes and batted them, pouting.

Robin pushed his shoulder. “Disgusting!” Then she gave him a huge hug and kiss on the cheek. “Of course I’d help you.”

“I think it would be perfect,” Joyce blurted out. They both turned and looked at her. “This place could use the publicity if I’m honest. There are other pools in Indy that have been bringing in the bigger names. So if Eddie accepts and starts training under five time gold medal champion Steve Harrington...”

“Then this place could start bringing in the big names again,” Robin said. “Not to say that Steve isn’t a big name of his own,” she added when Steve’s face twisted into something like offense.

Steve shook his head. “Which isn’t going to happen because he said no.”

Joyce and Robin sighed. There was that. But they knew they shouldn’t go trying to pressure Eddie into it. Plus, despite how good he was there was no telling he’d be on par or better than his younger peers.

Steve and Robin left Joyce standing there, pondering her dilemma.

~

Eddie chewed on the inside of his cheek thoughtfully. He was grateful that the technique worked, but he was pretty sure that he had caused the attack in the first place. Which was... not good. He could have handled the offer to have him trained to compete a little better. Steve was paying him a compliment and he threw it back in his face as charity. He didn’t need charity not from no one.

There was no two ways about it. He was going to have to apologize. Which was never his strong suit. But he’d do it. He just wasn’t going to take Steve up on his offer. He would see about staying on here as paid help because then he could still have access to his beloved pool.

It took him a couple of days but finally their schedules matched up and Eddie was on his break and Steve had time between classes again.

“Um, hey,” he said timidly, sauntering up to Steve. “I just wanted to apologize for being a bitch on Monday. I was rude and that wasn’t fair.”

A slow smile spread out over Steve’s face. “Thanks. I did just spring it on you without an preamble, so...”

Eddie laughed. “Yeah, there was that. But it still was mean and I should have been nicer.”

“Well, you made up for it by helping me with the panic attack afterwards,” Steve said. “I’d say that makes us even.”

“A panic attack I’m pretty sure I caused.”

Steve winced, confirming the worst of Eddie’s suspicion on that one. Steve rubbed his chin thoughtful. “I’ll tell you what, if you teach Robin and Joyce that technique you used to pull me out of my panic attack, then we’ll be even.”

Eddie smiled that sweet closed mouth smile that melted Steve’s insides when he saw it. “Sure thing I can do that. On Saturday before the crew swim. I’ll teach them both.”

Steve’s shoulders relaxed. That was going to be so useful, having multiple people know how to get him out of an attack would make it easier for him to go out in public. Something that was very limited after the incident in Beijing.

“That’ll be great, thanks.”

“You should come too,” Eddie suggested. “I know you don’t like being in the pool, but you could come hang out and have a little fun for a change.”

Steve gasped dramatically. “What do you mean? Isn’t teaching beginning classes meant to be fun?”

Eddie’s eyes went wide. It took him two seconds long than it should have to realize that Steve was joking him. He pushed Steve’s shoulder playfully.

“At least with us,” he teased, “we won’t try and drown you, deliberately or otherwise.”

Steve tilted his head to side and looked at him in confusion. Where the urge to bite those cheeks came from, Eddie will deny knowing until his last breath. “I saw that snotty teenaged little shit try to pull you into the pool. That’s fucked up at hell.”

Steve’s smile was blinding. “Fair enough. I like getting to sleep in on Saturdays, but we’ll see.”

Eddie grinned back. “I never used to get up this early for school. But ya know, keeping out of jail is pretty inspiring.”

“I could see that, yeah,” Steve agreed. “It was the one downside being on the swim team in high school.”

“You went to a regular high school?” Eddie asked tilting his head. “I would have thought after getting fifth in your first Olympics you would have gone to a special school for kids that are huge in sports or whatever?”

Steve blinked at him for a moment. “Do they have schools like that?”

“They do for like actors and shit,” Eddie said with a shrug. “So I assumed they would have something similar for the jocks.”

Steve laughed. “Yeah, no. That would have been preferable.” He shook his head. “But no, it’s much more cut throat that than that. Pretty much, schools try and poach students from other schools to make the best sports teams.”

Eddie’s eyebrows shot up. “Wait, really?”

“Yep!” Steve said beaming at him. He looked up at the clock on the wall. “Look, my next class is about to start. So I really should get going. Especially with Joyce’s son in the class, I don’t want to be late.”

“Why is he starting so late?” Eddie asked. “I would have thought with Joyce being in charge of the rec center and his older brother literally being a trainer too, he would have been in the tots class.”

Steve nodded. “She didn’t get the manager position until five years ago and Will was afraid of the water by then. So they just waited until he was ready.”

“So he’s ready now?” Eddie asked curiously.

“Mhmm,” Steve hummed. “All his friends are going to be in the class with him, so he ready to hop in the pool with them.”

Eddie smiled. “That’s cute.”

That surprised a huff of laughter out him. “Sure is. But don’t tell him that. He’s at the age where cute is akin to baby and well...”

“He’s too old for that?” Eddie finished.

“Yeah.”

“I feel that,” Eddie agreed. “Have fun in your class, and remember you can always make it look like an accident.”

Steve laughed out right at that and waved goodbye. Eddie watched him go feeling better about the whole panic attack thing. Now all he had to do was make sure it never happened again. Or at least not by his own big fucking mouth.

~

1-@mira-jadeamethyst @rozzieroos @itsall-taken @redfreckledwolf @zerokrox-blog

2- @gregre369 ​@a-little-unsteddie @chaosgremlinmunson @messrs-weasley @cryptid-system

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9- @chameleonhair @sadisticaltarts @dreamercec @xxfiction-is-my-realityxx @mac-attack19

10- @aol19 @eriquin @tartarusknight @gloomysoup @morallyundefined

[thirtysomethingloser92]

hi hi! I’ve been reading your Fics sm lately and I’m obsessedddd!!! I’m not sure if you’re taking requests but just in case I got something I’d like to put out. What abt some remy taking care of sick us? I’m currently trying to fight a cold lol and just imagining him helping out 🥲 Anywayssss thank u sm!!!!

I APPRECIATE YOU! I hope you feel better soon my darling <3 Here's a small one-shot for you.

The rain outside was relentless, a steady downpour that drummed against the windows of the small room like a thousand tiny fingers tapping for attention. The dim light from the bedside lamp cast soft, golden hues onto the walls, the shadows shifting slightly with each flicker of flame, making the room feel smaller, warmer. You were wrapped in a cocoon of thick blankets, your body aching as though you had gone ten rounds with Juggernaut. Fever-induced chills wrestled with waves of heat, leaving you in a constant state of discomfort.

Sickness had a way of amplifying everything, and for a mutant like you, it was worse. Your mutation wasn’t particularly flashy—no optic blasts, no telekinesis—but it was still dangerous when it acted up. Your body absorbed and generated energy, usually in the form of heat or light. When you were sick, that energy became harder to control. You could feel it simmering beneath your skin now, a low hum of power that made your fingertips glow faintly, like embers waiting to catch flame.

A knock at the door barely registered through the feverish fog clouding your mind, but you managed to tilt your head toward the sound.

“Chérie,” the familiar voice came, smooth and warm as ever, like silk brushing against skin. “Y’ awake?”

Remy, appeared in the doorway, his silhouette cutting an effortlessly cool figure in the dim light. His red-on-black eyes, usually filled with mischief or danger, were soft with concern as they landed on you. He stepped into the room, the faint scent of spices and warmth following him—his presence as comforting as the heat from a fire on a cold night.

You tried to muster a greeting, but the only sound that came out was a weak groan. You could barely move, your body so heavy it felt like you were sinking into the bed beneath you.

“Ah, pauvre fille,” Remy murmured, his voice dripping with sympathy as he approached the bed. He set a bowl of something steaming on the nightstand and sat on the edge of the mattress, his weight barely noticeable. “Y’ look like y’ been through hell.”

“Feel like it,” you croaked, your voice scratchy and hoarse, your throat burning. “I’m fine, though. You didn’t need to—”

“Hush,” he interrupted, his tone gentle but firm. His hand reached out, brushing a lock of your damp, sweat-soaked hair away from your forehead. His touch was light, careful, as though he were afraid you might break under the slightest pressure. “Ain’t no way I’m leavin’ you alone when y’r like this.”

“I don’t want to be a burden,” you mumbled, closing your eyes, too tired to argue.

“Burden?” Remy scoffed, shaking his head. “Ain’t no such thing, chérie. You know I like fussin’ over you.”

You opened one eye, managing a weak, teasing smile. “Since when do you fuss?”

“I'm full of surprises, non?” he replied, flashing that trademark grin that usually left people flustered. But right now, it was just comforting. “Now, sit up a bit. I made you some soup.”

You obeyed as much as your aching body would allow, shifting slightly so you were propped up against the pillows. Remy slipped an arm behind your back, helping you sit up with ease. The warmth of his body against yours was soothing, and you found yourself leaning into him more than you’d intended.

He didn’t seem to mind, though. In fact, he looked downright pleased as he grabbed the bowl and spoon, offering you a bite of the soup. It smelled rich and savory, the kind of comfort food that you hadn’t realized you craved until now. You hesitated for a moment, not used to being taken care of like this, but Remy’s easy smile made it seem perfectly natural. You opened your mouth, letting him feed you the first spoonful.

The broth was hot and spiced just right, its warmth spreading through your chest like a balm. It soothed your raw throat and chased away the chill that had settled deep in your bones. You sighed in relief, and Remy chuckled softly.

“Good, huh?” he asked, his voice low and smooth as he fed you another spoonful. “Told y’ I could take care of you.”

“Yeah,” you admitted, your eyelids heavy as the warmth of the soup and his presence began to lull you into a more relaxed state. “It’s really good. Thank you.”

“Don’t thank me yet,” he replied, his grin widening. “I’m gonna fuss over you until y’r fully better. Ain’t nothin’ gonna stop me.”

You let out a small laugh, though it quickly turned into a cough that made your chest ache. Remy’s expression shifted from playful to serious in an instant, his hand rubbing gentle circles on your back until the coughing subsided.

“You okay?” he asked softly, his voice barely above a whisper.

You nodded, too exhausted to speak. The coughing had taken what little energy you had left. You could feel your mutation stirring again, the faint glow of your hands becoming more pronounced as your body struggled to regulate itself.

Remy noticed, of course. He always noticed. His gaze flicked down to your hands, where the light was pulsing faintly beneath your skin, and then back to your face. He didn’t say anything right away, but his hand moved to cover yours, his cool fingers pressing gently against your overheating skin. The glow dimmed slightly at his touch, as if his presence alone was enough to calm the storm inside you.

“I got y’, chérie,” he murmured. “Ain’t gonna let ya lose control. Just rest.”

You leaned back against the pillows again, Remy’s hand still covering yours, grounding you. The fever was still raging, but the panic that always accompanied your powers going haywire had lessened. You trusted him—trusted that he wouldn’t let things spiral out of control.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered, your voice barely audible. “I hate when this happens. I can’t—”

“Hey, now,” Remy interrupted, his voice firm but kind. “Ain’t nothin’ to be sorry for. Y’ mutant powers act up when y’r sick, so what? Y’ think I ain’t had my share of accidents when I wasn’t feelin’ well?”

“Really?” you asked, raising a brow, though the effort made your head feel heavy.

Remy grinned, a mischievous glint in his eyes. “Oh yeah. Blew up a whole deck of cards once when I had a cold. Made a real mess.”

Despite your exhaustion, you laughed softly, imagining the chaos that must have caused. “Bet you still looked cool doing it.”

“Always,” he replied with a wink. “Now, seriously, rest. Y’ gonna need all the energy y’ can get to feel better.”

You nodded, your eyelids drooping. The warmth from the soup and Remy’s steady presence beside you were making it hard to stay awake. As your breathing began to slow, you felt Remy shift beside you, pulling the blankets up around your shoulders and tucking you in like you were the most precious thing in the world.

“I’m not gonna burn the place down, am I?” you mumbled sleepily, only half-joking.

“Nah,” Remy whispered, his voice like a lullaby. “Not while I’m here.”

You smiled faintly, already drifting off into the welcoming darkness of sleep. The last thing you felt was Remy’s hand brushing gently over your hair, his fingers cool and comforting against your feverish skin.

When you woke up again, the room was quiet except for the patter of rain still falling outside. The fever had broken, leaving you feeling weak but no longer burning from the inside out. Your body felt lighter, your mind clearer, and your powers seemed to have settled back into their usual rhythm.

The first thing you noticed was that you weren’t alone. Remy was still there, sitting in the chair beside the bed, his head tilted back, eyes closed in sleep. His long legs were stretched out in front of him, and his coat had slipped down his shoulders, revealing the soft cotton of his shirt underneath. Even in sleep, he looked impossibly graceful, like nothing could ever truly ruffle him.

You smiled softly, your heart swelling with affection. He had stayed with you all night, fussing over you despite his usual devil-may-care attitude. You had always known there was more to Remy than the smooth-talking thief he pretended to be, but moments like this reminded you just how much heart he had beneath the charm.

Careful not to wake him, you reached out and took his hand in yours, threading your fingers through his. His skin was cool against yours, a soothing contrast to the heat that still lingered in your body.

Remy stirred slightly at the touch, his eyes slowly fluttering open. When he saw you looking at him, a slow, lazy grin spread across his face.

“Mornin’, beautiful,” he drawled, his voice thick with sleep.

“It’s the middle of the night,” you whispered, but you didn’t let go of his hand.

“Still counts,” he replied with a wink, giving your hand a gentle squeeze. “Feelin’ better?”

“Yeah,” you nodded, your voice soft. “Thanks to you.”

“Good,” he murmured, leaning forward to press a kiss to your forehead, the gesture tender and lingering. “Now, get some more rest, chère. I’ll be right here if y’ need me.”

With your hand still in his, you closed your eyes again, the warmth of his care wrapping around you like a shield. And as sleep claimed you once more, you knew that with Remy by your side, you were safe.

[lady-raidia]

You guys are crazy! 😭 My Gil-Galad story "Forest Heart" blew up the last few days and over 100 people interacted with that post! 😭Thank you so so so much, I can't believe the love you are giving my little story! 😭💕 I know that part 2 was long due, that's why as a little thank you, I finally managed to write the next part for Fores Heart. I hope you enjoy it as much as I enjoyed writing it! 💕

@lucypaulette @elifereinion - you two left such nice comments, I hope you enjoy part two as well! 😭💕

You can find part one here: Forest Heart

WHISPERS OF A HEART 🌿

Pairing: Gil-Galad x Reader

Summary: Part II of "Forest Heart" - The celebrations are grand but your soul feels tired. When you wander under the moonlight, you get lost in the eyes of the king.

Warnings: None!

🌿🌿🌿🌿🌿🌿🌿🌿🌿🌿

Two days. Two days since your heart and soul stumbled upon the High King in the woods. And for two days you can’t get him out of your head. You still feel embarrassed by being so careless, but the fear that you might have insulted him by not addressing him properly vanished quickly. Yesterday and the day before, Elrond and you spent some time in the gardens, talking about dwarves, eagles and dragons.  After he scolded you for ignoring his words. But while you talked and laughed about various stories you have heard, wandering around to enjoy the sunshine on your face, you could see the king from the distance. On both days he was trying to enjoy a walk but on both days different people gathered around him, asking questions, reporting problems or sharing information. You could see it in his face, his tired soul and shattered mind. But when his eyes met you from a distance, his whole being lit up. It was only for a moment but it electrified your whole body. And the past two days you both spend glancing at each other from far away, while the words you both want to say stay hidden.

But tonight, you have to focus on your friend. The celebrations are in honor of Galadriel and her troop and you have to give her the attention she deserves. The festivities are grand, the food is great and your feet already hurt from all the dancing. You start to feel exhausted by your surroundings, even though the celebrations are far from being over. You excuse yourself, telling your friends that you will be back, that you just need some time for yourself.

You leave the noise of the festivities behind you while you seek refuge in the gardens, breathing in the cool night air. These quiet moments are your home; stepping away from the crowdedness of Lindon, away from the conversations and laughter that feel too far removed from the peace you have known all your life. Tonight, though, the restlessness lingers.

You keep on walking, taking in the sight of the flowers bathing in the moonlight, the grass shimmering with dew. But your attention quickly moves elsewhere. Standing alone beneath a large tree, the moonlight casts a pale glow on his dark hair. It’s him. Gil-Galad. His back is facing you at first, but as you move closer, he turns around as if sensing your presence. Your eyes meet, just like all the times before. Except that there is no one else around—just him and you and the hidden words, that want to leave the darkness. There is a soft smile on his lips, but it doesn’t quite reach his eyes. Something about him feels distant, his mind occupied by thoughts far heavier than you can imagine.

“It is the second time that I have met you under the moonlight.”, he speaks while his eyes never leave yours. “It is peaceful under the moonlight, something we both seem to value.” You pause for a moment, trying to calm your heart which beats stronger and faster with every second. “Do you often seek silence away from others?”, you ask softly, even though you already know the answer. Gil-Galad’s smile deepens a little, though his gaze remains distant. “More often than I care to admit. The burden of a crown is heavy,” he replies, his voice barely above a whisper. He looks toward the trees, the quiet peace of the garden offering no rest from the weight on his shoulders. “But between the trees and under the glimmering moon, I can forget it for a while.” With one hand he reaches out to touch the tree next to him, his touch is gentle, as if he is scared to break something sacred.

Without thinking, entranced by him, you step closer. Your mind does not fully understand why you feel the urge to be closer to him, but your heart already knows. It always knew that fate waited for you under the moonlight. “It is the heaviest of burdens, one that can not be shared. I am glad you can find peace in nature, the leaves may not understand the heavy task that was laid upon you but they can offer a welcoming retreat.” You step next to him, looking at the tree in front of you.

There is a pause, and when he finally shifts his head to look at you, his gaze is soft but searching, as if he is trying to find something within you … “You understand the need for peace.,” he says. “I have seen it in you. It is as though you carry a sense of peace within you that the rest of us have long lost.” His words pull at something inside you, a feeling you thought to have shaken off. “I don’t if it is peace … Perhaps a longing. A longing to belong somewhere. I believe to have found my place between flowers and trees, far away from everyone. But … I am not sure anymore if that truly is where I belong. Or if I belong at all.”, you admit, looking up to the sky before you turn your gaze to the king next to you. His eyes meet yours fully now, and for a moment, the vulnerability inside your soul is gone.

“You are not like anyone I have ever met,” he says quietly, the words almost slipping out before he can catch them. “There is something about you … something I can’t quite explain.” Your heart flutters at his confession, and you take another step closer, close enough to feel the warmth of his presence. “I don’t know what it is either,” you whisper, your voice barely audible. “But I have felt it since I arrived.”

The air between the two of you is heavy with unspoken words, but both of your hearts feel a sense of lightness when you are around each other. But the tension grows stronger with desire as his gaze drops to your lips for just a moment before returning to your eyes. His hand almost moves instinctively, brushing a stray lock of hair from your face. His touch makes you shiver and you soon realize that you are absolutely bewitched by him.

“You make it easy to forget,” he murmurs, his voice filled with a vulnerability you have never heard from him before. His fingers linger near your cheek, the warmth of his hand a stark contrast to the cool night air. “When I am with you, it is as though the weight of the world disappears.”

Your breath catches in your throat, and for a moment, all you can do is look at him. The moonlight reflects in his eyes and it is as if you are looking at Valinor itself. The soft glow, the promise of a new dawn, when you allow it – you feel something shift inside of you; a pull stronger than any duty or fear. Without thinking, your hand moves to rest on his chest, feeling his heart beating fast beneath your fingertips.

“I don’t want to be someone who complicates things for you,” You speak with fear but in your chest, you can feel hope. Words don’t matter anymore.

His hand moves to cover yours, holding it gently against his chest. “It is already complicated.”, he admits, his voice low. “But for once, I don’t care.”

And before you can say anything more, he closes the little distance that was left between you, his lips finding yours. The kiss is as tender as the rising sun, as tender as the smell of dewy grass in the morning. The world seems to stop, time suffocates in the softness of this moment, and all you can feel is him – his warmth, his breath, the way his hands gently hold you as if afraid you might slip away.

The kiss is brief, but it leaves you both breathless, your heart racing as you pull back just enough to meet his gaze again. His eyes are filled with the same vulnerability, the same uncertainty that you feel deep in your chest. But there is also hope, a wish for a golden future.

“I shouldn’t –“ he begins, but the words die on his lips, as if even he doesn’t believe them anymore. You shake your head softly, your hand still resting on his chest. “Neither should I,” your voice is trembling slightly. “But maybe … maybe for once, we don’t have to think about what we should or shouldn’t do.”

For a long moment, he says nothing, his eyes searching yours, and then he pulls you close again, resting his forehead against yours. There, in the quietness of the garden, you both hold each other, whispering sweet promises of a new dawn. The moonlight had brought you together and even though the future is uncertain, your feelings are not. The burden of a king remains heavy, but his heart finally found peace in your soul.

[jhutchh19992]

Comfort in the Chaos

Plot: you are claptons best friend since… well forever. you also had feelings for him since forever. but he had a girlfriend. now hes broken up with her and you comfort him, leading to an unexpected turn.

tags: no smut, fluff, comfort, slight angst, highschool, best friends to lovers

Clapton Davis. The king of not giving a damn. The guy who made skipping homework and blowing off tests look effortless. But despite all that, he was my best friend. The truth, though? I’d been in love with him for a while, and I always had this feeling he felt the same. Neither of us had ever said anything. Maybe we were afraid of ruining what we had, or maybe we were waiting for the right moment.

Today, though, something felt different.

I was sitting on my bed, scrolling through my phone, when I got a text from Clapton. It was one of those messages that sent my heart racing.

Clapton: "She broke up with me."

I stared at the screen, my heart both sinking and soaring. Fiona—his girlfriend—was out of the picture. For months, I had been trying to hide my jealousy whenever he talked about her, pretending I was happy for them. Now, I wasn’t sure how to feel.

Me: "I’m sorry. Do you want to come over?"

A few minutes later, him and his skateboard pulled up outside my house. I opened the door before he even knocked, and there he was, hands shoved deep into the pockets of his hoodie, his face clouded with a mixture of frustration and sadness.

“Hey,” he mumbled, stepping inside.

“Hey,” I replied, offering him a weak smile. “Come on, let’s sit outside.”

We headed to the backyard, the sun setting in soft orange hues. I grabbed a couple of sodas from the fridge and passed one to him as we settled onto the porch steps. For a few moments, we just sat in silence, letting the cool breeze wash over us.

“She said I was holding her back,” Clapton said after a while, his voice low. He stared ahead, not meeting my eyes. “Like I wasn’t enough.”

I frowned, anger bubbling up inside me. “That’s not true. She didn’t get you. She never did.”

He glanced over at me, his brow furrowed. “Yeah? What makes you say that?”

“Because I know you,” I said softly. “You’re not someone who needs to fit into anyone’s mold. You’re Clapton. And that’s more than enough.”

He didn’t say anything at first, but I could see the way his jaw tightened, like he was trying to hold back something. “It’s just—” he started, then stopped, running a hand through his messy hair. “I don’t get why I even cared so much. Fiona…she wasn’t it.”

My heart skipped a beat. This was the first time he had ever hinted that maybe he hadn’t been as into her as I’d thought. I wanted to ask him what he meant, but I was afraid to push too hard.

Instead, I just said, “Maybe you were looking for something else.”

His eyes met mine, and for a second, something passed between us. Something that had always been there, just under the surface, waiting for one of us to acknowledge it.

“I think you’re right,” he said quietly, his voice barely above a whisper.

We sat in silence again, but this time it wasn’t the comfortable quiet we usually shared. There was a tension in the air, a kind of electricity that made my skin tingle. I could feel my heart pounding in my chest, and I wondered if he could hear it too.

“I don’t get why she didn’t see it,” I finally said, my voice low. “You’re more than just what people see at school, you know? You’re…you’re one of the best people I know.”

Clapton turned to me, his expression softening. “You really think that?”

I swallowed, suddenly nervous. “Yeah. I’ve always thought that.”

He was looking at me now, really looking at me, like he was seeing me for the first time. His eyes flickered to my lips for a brief second, and my breath caught in my throat. Was this finally happening?

“I’ve been thinking a lot lately,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper. “About us.”

My heart skipped a beat. “About us?”

He nodded slowly, his eyes never leaving mine. “Yeah. I know I haven’t always been the best at showing it, but…there’s something here. Right?”

There it was. The thing we’d been dancing around for so long, finally out in the open. I felt like I was standing on the edge of a cliff, ready to jump but terrified at the same time.

“I think so too,” I admitted, my voice shaky. “I’ve felt it for a while.”

Clapton’s expression softened, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips. “I thought it was just me,” he said, letting out a quiet laugh. “I guess I was wrong.”

He shifted closer, his knee brushing against mine, and suddenly the space between us felt too small. My heart was racing, my hands trembling, and all I could think about was how much I wanted him to kiss me.

“Can I?” he asked, his voice barely audible, his eyes searching mine for permission.

I nodded, unable to find the words. My breath hitched as he leaned in slowly, closing the distance between us. His lips were soft and warm against mine, the kiss gentle but full of the things we had left unsaid for so long.

For a moment, time seemed to stop. It was just me and Clapton, sitting on my porch under the fading sunlight, finally crossing that invisible line we’d been toeing for years. And it felt right. More than right—it felt like this was exactly where we were supposed to be.

When he pulled back, his forehead rested gently against mine, and we stayed like that for a few seconds, both of us catching our breath.

“I’ve wanted to do that for a while,” he admitted, his voice soft.

“Me too,” I whispered back.

We didn’t need to say anything else. There were no more questions, no more doubts. We had crossed the line, and there was no going back—but that was okay. Because whatever was ahead of us, we’d face it together.

The sun dipped below the horizon, casting the world in soft twilight as we sat there, fingers intertwined, quietly laughing at how long it had taken us to figure it out. And for the first time, everything felt perfectly, undeniably right.

[megzscribbleznwordz]

The Aqua Teens And Love Languages!

this is kinda a mix between drabbles and headcanons? Idk... I wrote it so you can interpret it as either humanized or not, so go wild!

Frylock:

Quality Time: Oh goodness, please offer to help him with his research, I feel like he’d love to have a lab partner. Even if science isn’t your thing, he just appreciates the fact that you’re taking time to spend time with him doing something he loves. Does the same for you too, asking questions about your hobbies and interests. He definitely does research into your hobbies in his free time.

Words of affirmation: The king of oddly specific, somewhat weird compliments. Things like “you have a beautiful brain”, “your skin is so smooth”, things like that.

Physical Touch: Definitely more touchy than you’d expect. Not super into PDA, but definitely needs to be holding your hand like all the time. Eating dinner? Holding your hand. Sitting with the other Aqua Teens? Holding your hand. Any time anywhere he can, he will be.

Acts of Service: Frylock is big on acts of service. Be something simple, like tidying up your shared room; helping do daily chores; making a meal; or more complex things, like proactively helping you solve problems you bring to him if he feels like it’s in his capability.

Giving/Receiving Gifts: Definitely gives gifts of use. Accessories, books, materials related to your hobbies; Clothes and accessories that fit your aesthetic, things like that. Goes all out for valentine’s day, I feel like he’s a romantic at heart.

Master Shake:

Quality Time: Big one for outings. Loves places like arcades, retro gaming stores, bowling…Any sort of games you can play together he’s down for. Loves playing any sorts of games with you. Also a sucker for domesticity, He’d never really imagined himself to be a sappy sort, but something about chill days in cuddling and watching TV really brings a warmth to his heart.

Words of Affirmation: I feel like he’s not the type to give big dramatic heartfelt declarations of love… His affection really shows in how frequently he compliments you. Even little things, like I like the way that shirt looks on you, your hair looks cool today, things like that. He’s not the polite sort, and doesn’t really complement anybody but you.

Physical Touch: Oh my god he’s so grabby. Walking past him? You get a smack on the butt. Standing beside him? Definitely either have a hand on your waist or butt. Sitting next to each other? Definitely tries to coax you into sitting on his lap. The most smug asshole about it, too.

Acts of Service: He’ll only do things for you. He may grumble a bit about it depending on the task, but it will end up done (Probably better than you expected). I personally headcanon that he’s secretly a good cook, and he definitely puts his entire heart into trying to make you the best damn dinner around. Cooking is one of the few tasks he does without needing to be asked, and he only does it for you. Like, pointedly only cooks enough food for you two so you don’t need to share with Frylock or Meatwad.

Giving/Receiving gifts: He’s a bit of a material girl, loves receiving gifts. He really tries with gifts, but it ends up being something a bit odd. A book with a title that made him laugh, a poster for a movie you talked about exactly 1 time, things like that. He knows his own skill though, and typically gets traditional gifts for you. Think plushies, candy, flowers, the works.

Meatwad:

Quality time: Loves, loves, loves when you read him books! He can read on his own, but something about the way your voice sounds when reading aloud is so comforting to him. Please let him show you all his toys, it’ll make little man’s day. Dream Date? MC Pee Pants concert. Loves sharing the things he likes with you, and hearing about the things you like! Will definitely demand to join you next time you partake in a hobby. 

Words of Affirmation: Gives you the sweetest compliments ever. Like, your hair is so soft, your laugh is so cute, I like the way that you smile. He doesn’t go out of his way to flatter you, but simply states them when he thinks them. Very cutely awkward when it comes to receiving them, very bashful and blush. 

Physical Touch: Very cuddly. Like, whenever you guys are just hanging out he wants to hold you/be held by you. A bit more of a little spoon due to being generally smaller than most people, but absolutely loves wrapping himself around you in a close embrace. Takes after Frylock in the way he needs to hold your hand constantly.

Acts of Service: Very much a sucker for the classics. Things like holding doors for you, carrying your bags whenever you two are shopping together, trying to do all the ‘manly’ tasks for you, etc. 

Giving/Receiving gifts: Biggest maker of homemade gifts right here. Draws you, buys beads and makes you jewelry, writes and makes up stories for only you, even trying to make simple treats for you (Fudge, brownies, things like that.)

[notseospicy]

NATIONAL ANTHEM.

Seungmin x reader. (f,a) SFW

Synopsis: At first, you knew Seungmin as the guy you made out with on a flight home but once the plane landed, you discovered that he's the son of your father's rival candidate for the upcoming election, causing you to be caught between love and loyalty. (10,9k words)

Some people might call it fate, serendipity, or kismet, but you're not the type to believe in romantic clichés like that, so let's just call it a coincidence.

It's merely a coincidence that the car got a flat tire on the way to the airport, causing you to miss the flight you were supposed to be on. Otherwise, you would have been sitting in seat 4B on a completely different plane next to a completely different passenger in seat 4A.

As you make your way to your seat, you notice him immediately. A young man sitting in the window seat next to yours, he possesses a rare, gentlemanly beauty. With refined features, a charming smile, and tousled dark hair, he exudes a sophisticated appeal. In other words, he’s the kind of guy who instantly catches your eye.

He glances up as you stow your bag in the overhead compartment, offering a polite nod. You take your seat next to him, trying to keep your cool even though your heart skips a beat.

There’s something about him that draws you in, something magnetic—a quiet confidence that doesn’t need to be loud or showy to be felt.

After you settle in and the plane takes off, you feel the urge to talk to him. You're usually not the type to strike up conversations with strangers, but for some reason, with him, you can't help it. Also, you realize that if you want something to happen, you have to start somewhere.

“Is this your first time flying out of here?” you ask, turning to him with a smile.

He looks at you, his lips curving into a small smile. “No, I’ve been here before, but it’s been a while," he answers, his voice smooth and calm, making something flutter in your chest.

You introduce yourself to break the ice and make interacting easier.

"Seungmin," he says, taking your hand and holding it for a moment as he introduces himself. "Traveling alone?"

"Yes," you answer innocently.

"Business or pleasure?" he asks, a playful glint in his warm brown eyes.

You stare into his eyes and faintly bite your lower lip before answering, "Hopefully, pleasure."

From there, the conversation flows effortlessly. You talk about everything—from favorite travel destinations to the books you're reading. Something about Seungmin makes it feel so natural, and before you know it, two hours have passed in the blink of an eye.

“I can’t believe we’ve been talking for hours,” you say with a low laugh, glancing out the window at the darkened sky.

The Atlantic stretches endlessly below, and the flight attendants have dimmed the cabin lights, casting a soft, intimate glow over the rows of seats.

“Time flies when the company’s good,” he says, his eyes lingering on you in a way that makes your heart race.

The space between you feels charged now, the conversation slowing as the connection deepens into something more. You can feel the pull—the undeniable attraction that’s been simmering since you sat down. Then you catch him glancing at your lips, and you know he feels it too.

Daringly, you lean in slightly, testing the waters, and he responds by shifting closer. The air between you is electric, and when his hand brushes yours, a spark shoots through you.

Both of you hesitate for a moment, caught in that intoxicating space where everything hangs in the balance until neither of you can resist any longer.

Your lips meet in a soft, tentative kiss, and the world outside the window seems to fall away. His kiss is gentle at first, cautious, testing, but when you respond, he takes it as permission to deepen it. He rests his hand on your cheek, and warmth spreads through you as his lips move against yours in a slow, intoxicating rhythm, making you forget you’re on a plane surrounded by strangers.

For those few moments, it's just you and him, lost in each other, the quiet hum of the plane fading into the background.

When you finally pull apart, breathless and dazed, you exchange a look that says everything. This isn't just some fleeting attraction. There’s something real here, something undeniable.

However, once the plane touches down and the cabin lights flicker back to life, reality begins to creep in. It's the altitude, the change in air, and the fact that you now have both feet on the ground. The intimacy of your shared moments with Seungmin starts to fade as you both prepare to disembark.

Everyone stands from their seats to gather their things, and you can feel Seungmin watching as you reach for your bag in the overhead compartment.

"So…" Seungmin begins as you both shuffle out of the row and into the aisle. "Can I get your number? Or at least, a last name?"

Your heart is still fluttering from the kiss you shared just hours ago, but you hesitate. There’s an inexplicable tug in your gut telling you not to give in so easily, to be cautious. You like him—really like him—but you're not going to make it that easy.

You flash him a playful smile. “Hmm... I’m not sure I should make it that easy for you,” you tease, shifting your bag onto your shoulder.

Seungmin raises an eyebrow, his lips curling into a half-smile. “You’re going to make me work for it?”

You nonchalantly shrug, trying to keep things light despite your racing heart. “Let’s just say I like a challenge.”

As you walk together through the terminal, the chemistry between you still crackling, you step outside and notice a car waiting at the curb. The driver, standing beside it, is holding a sign with Seungmin’s name. At first, nothing seems out of the ordinary, until you notice his jacket. The driver is wearing a dark blazer, but pinned to it is a familiar emblem—the logo of a political campaign.

Not just any campaign. It's your father’s rival’s campaign.

Your smile falters as you look more closely, and your heart drops when something clicks. You turn to Seungmin, your mind racing.

“Is that your driver?” your voice comes out sharper than you intended.

Seungmin follows your gaze, looking a bit confused. “Yeah. Why?”

Your throat suddenly feels dry. You clear it before asking the big question. “Are you from the Kim family? The same Kim family running for governor?”

"Yes," Seungmin answers, clearly puzzled.

The Kim family. The Kim family. Your father’s bitter rival in the upcoming election. This isn’t just some random guy you met on a plane—he's the son of the man your father has been railing against for weeks. You feel the blood drain from your face as the realization crashes down.

Seungmin’s expression shifts from confusion to concern. “What’s wrong?”

You unconsciously take a step back. "You’re... you’re a Kim," you say, still in disbelief.

Seungmin opens his mouth to respond, but you cut him off. "Your father and mine—they’re both running for governor."

For a moment, Seungmin seems to be processing what you’ve said. Then his face hardens slightly in understanding. You take another step back, the weight of everything pressing down on you.

“This changes everything,” you whisper.

He looks at you, his eyes searching. “No, it doesn’t have to," he says.

If only he knew how badly you wanted to believe him. But you can’t ignore the reality of the situation. Both of your families are in a brutal political war, and no matter how much you like him, getting involved with Seungmin could blow everything up—for both of you.

"How is it not? Your father accused mine of siphoning money from the city’s budget for his campaign."

"Because he did!" Seungmin says boldly.

"There’s no concrete proof!" you counter.

"Of course, because they know how to make things disappear. Your family is known for their generosity with hush money," he remarks bluntly.

You’ve never been one to argue about things that aren’t your business, but when it comes to your family, you naturally defend them.

"As opposed to your father’s blatant hypocrisy," you calmly reply. "He’s fighting the climate crisis, but his wife keeps taking private jets for her shopping trips."

You come up with a concrete data point. "According to the data, those trips contributed 58 metric tons of carbon—the same amount emitted by 4,625 cars in a day."

That seems to shut him up. His jaw clenches, and it's unfair how good he looks when he's mad.

The driver awkwardly clears his throat, glancing between you both. “Sir, we should get going. Your father’s waiting.”

"It was good to see you," Seungmin says before storming off, childishly bumping your shoulder as he passes.

"Goodbye, I guess," you mutter, scoffing in disbelief as you watch him walk away.

That concludes everything, officially making it an unpleasant coincidence.

-

It was just a coincidence!

That's what Seungmin has been telling himself after spending days wrestling with his feelings, convincing himself that it doesn’t matter, that you are just a fleeting moment, a passing fancy. But the truth is undeniable: no matter how much he tries to push you out of his mind, he just can’t stop thinking about you.

When his friend mentioned that you’re living separately from your family, something shifted inside him. The tension between your families has always been an obstacle, a reason to stay away, but now it seems more like an excuse. If anything, the fact that you aren’t on good terms with your family only deepens his curiosity—and somehow, his feelings.

Seungmin hadn’t planned to find your hotel room, but once he knew where you were staying, he couldn’t help himself. And now, as he stands there, waiting for you to open the door, his heart races in anticipation despite the cool facade he tries to maintain.

After a moment, the door creaks open, and there you are—your hair slightly tousled, your expression showing slight shock to see him there. His heart leaps at the sight of you, but instead of the warmth or excitement he hoped to see, your face remains cold, indifferent.

“Are you stalking me?” your voice is cool, a little too casual, as if you haven’t been thinking about him at all.

There's no going back now, so Seungmin pushes forward. "Well, you're not that hard to track."

You lean against the doorframe, crossing your arms in front of you defensively. “You shouldn’t be here,” you say flatly.

Seungmin notices the flicker in your eyes, something you’re trying to hide. He takes a small step closer, his gaze softening, and playfully says, “Maybe."

You stare at him for a moment, your expression hard, but he sees the hesitation in the way your fingers grip the edge of the door. You’re fighting something, trying to keep a wall between the two of you. He understands why you keep your guard up so high—you’re trying to protect yourself, your heart, and maybe even protect him from the mess that is your life right now.

“You shouldn’t be... with me,” you make it even clearer, but even as you say the words, your voice wavers.

Seungmin takes another step forward, placing his hand near where yours rests. “Let me in, and we'll find out."

Your eyes soften for a brief moment before you quickly look away, the conflict clear in your expression. It’s obvious that you want to shut the door, to push him away, but something is holding you back. Maybe it's the same thing that brought him here in the first place—the connection, the spark between you that refuses to be ignored.

The conflict in your eyes only encourages Seungmin. He leans against the doorframe, his eyes never leaving yours. "Why are you staying in a hotel anyway?" he asks, his voice casual but tinged with curiosity.

You remain aloof, folding your arms across your chest as you raise an eyebrow. “Why should I let my enemy know?"

The coldness in your tone is deliberate, a shield to guard against him, against what you’re really feeling. But he doesn’t back down; his smirk only grows wider.

His hand inches closer to yours as he leans in just a bit closer, making his presence suddenly more overwhelming.

“See, that’s the thing..." his voice drops lower, with a teasing edge.

“What?” you ask, trying to keep your cool even though the proximity makes your heart race.

“We’re enemies,” he states the obvious, his gaze locking onto yours with such intensity that it sends a shiver down your spine.

You let out a sigh, already prepared for whatever line he’s about to throw at you. “And what’s your point?”

Seungmin’s smirk deepens as he leans in even closer, his face now mere inches away from yours. His voice is low and soft, almost a whisper, but filled with mischief.

“Sleeping with the enemy is hot.”

Your breath hitches slightly, but you keep your expression in check, refusing to let him see just how much his words affect you. You tilt your head a little to the side, raising an eyebrow, but the corner of your mouth betrays you with the slightest hint of a smile.

“Is that so?” you respond with a daring smirk.

Seungmin lets out a low chuckle, his eyes flickering with something dangerous and alluring, like he knows exactly how this game is going to end.

As you stand there weighing your options, the tension between you and him becomes unbearable. You can feel the electricity crackling in the air, and despite everything, you find yourself taking a step back, opening the door wider without saying a word.

Seungmin’s triumphant smile tells you that he understands your silent invitation. Without wasting another second, he steps inside, the door closing softly behind him as the world outside fades away.

Before you can even catch your breath, he’s on you—his lips crash against yours with a force that makes you dizzy. The kiss is urgent, an explosion of passion and frustration that has been building between you and him for so long.

His hands grip your waist, pulling you closer as if the mere touch of your skin isn’t enough to satisfy the hunger between you.

All the walls you’ve built, all the reasons you shouldn’t be doing this, crumble in an instant. It doesn’t matter that he’s your enemy. Right now, all that matters is the way his lips brush against yours, the way his breath mingles with yours, the way your hearts seem to beat in sync.

In that moment, nothing else exists but the two of you.

-

It’s Seungmin’s third time staying over in your hotel room this week alone, and no, you're not complaining at all. You've already grown accustomed to him—Seungmin is part of your routine now, part of your life, and his absence leaves you feeling restless.

When you're not with him, you recall what he’s done to you: the way he kissed you, caressed you, all the things he's said. Your hand unconsciously flies down to your thigh, wishing he was touching you right now.

But don’t get it wrong—the non-bedroom side of Seungmin appeals to you just as much as the lover side, if not more. He makes you laugh, and he listens to you, even when what you talk about isn’t particularly interesting. He’s comfortable around you, and that makes you comfortable around him. You like how he fills the empty space in the bed, and you also like just lying with him in a comfortable silence that doesn’t beg for questions.

However, tonight is an exception.

As you lie on the bed with Seungmin, still recovering from the passionate lovemaking you shared earlier, you feel the weight of reality slowly creeping back in. The silence between you isn’t uncomfortable, but it feels heavy, as if there are things that need to be said.

You roll over slightly to face him and place your hand on his arm, fingers gently tracing the veins coiling down his inner arm. “I need to tell you something,” you murmur.

Seungmin turns his head to look at you, his gaze soft but curious. “What is it?”

You inhale deeply as you gather your thoughts, looking into his eyes as you begin with the one thing you're sure of.

“I really like you, Seungmin.”

“I know,” he says confidently, one corner of his mouth curling into a half-smirk.

You bring your hand up to cup his chin, gently scratching his jaw with your fingertips as you flash him a soft smile and continue speaking.

“What you don’t know is that my family isn’t speaking to me right now, and that’s something I’d like to change.”

“I didn’t know. I’m sorry,” he says earnestly, softly caressing your cheek.

“My family used to control me—I’m sure you know what that’s like. I rebelled, took off, and a year into it, I found out my younger sister was going through something, and I wasn’t there for her because I was trying to prove some... stupid point,” you explain with a dry chuckle.

His gaze remains steady as he listens to you without interrupting.

“I’m just trying to find my way back in, and I happened to bump into you along the way.”

“And I’m glad you did,” he says, catching your other hand in his and resting it on his chest.

You hold his chin, wanting all of his attention focused on you, because what you're about to say is the most important part of this conversation.

“Being seen with you would send the wrong message, and I really can’t risk making my family more upset right now.”

Seungmin’s eyes soften, and without the slightest hesitation, he nods in agreement. “I understand,” he says calmly.

“Don’t worry, I’m pretty good at secret relationships,” he adds with a playful smirk. “And all the sneaking around... it’s kind of thrilling. I find it really hot.”

You let out a soft laugh, suddenly feeling at ease. “Of course you do.”

Seungmin pulls you closer, gently brushing a strand of hair away from your face before placing a chaste kiss on your lips.

“We’ll keep it a secret, but I want you to know that it doesn’t change how I feel about you.”

As Seungmin presses a tender kiss to your forehead, you feel the warmth and reassurance sinking in. For now, the secret doesn’t feel like a burden—it feels like a shared world that belongs only to the two of you.

-

In under a month, Seungmin learned a lot about you.

You live by routine: you get up at the same time every day, shower, and then your breakfast usually consists of a cup of black coffee and French toast. You share a kiss before parting ways, as you get picked up at the entrance of the hotel while Seungmin makes his getaway through the hotel kitchen exit.

During the day, you help your father with his campaign at headquarters, and you're back to your hotel room around 8 or 9 when you have dinner with your family.

As for your evenings, they belong to Seungmin. When the two of you aren’t fooling around like teenagers, you fill the time with late-night snacks, talking about random things, or just cuddling on the bed—things that Seungmin has never experienced with anyone before.

Day by day, he wants more of you, not less.

Tonight, you both decide to pass the time by watching something on pay-per-view. You rest your head against his shoulder while your eyes are on the large screen mounted on the wall. At times, Seungmin places a kiss on you, and it feels good having you near, as if he was made to be your lover.

From time to time, you react to certain scenes in the film, your bare legs shifting beneath the hem of your nightdress.

“Are you wearing underwear?” he jokingly asks into your ear.

You laugh, teasing him with your playful smile. The night continues with soft moments like these—gentle touches, soft kisses, and quiet laughter.

By the time the movie credits roll, you both realize the film played in the background while the two of you were wrapped up in each other. At the end of the night, you climb into bed, nuzzling your head into the crook of his neck, enveloping him with your warmth.

Seungmin brushes stray hair away from your face and trails his fingertips over the smooth curve of your lips before placing a gentle kiss with tenderness mixed with a sense of possessiveness.

“Goodnight,” he mutters softly as he breaks the kiss.

The next morning, he finds you wearing his shirt—the one from the very first night he spent with you. He doesn’t know how to describe the feeling that rushes through him seeing you in his clothes, knowing you kept his shirt and have been wearing it. All he knows is that it feels good.

Truthfully, he’s been feeling like this a lot lately—every time you smile, ask for a kiss, or cross the room just to be near him, but also when the two of you aren’t together. He has spent the past few weeks in a euphoric high, grinning for no other reason than thinking of you.

There’s no doubt about it—Seungmin is stupid in love.

-

The fundraiser party is in full swing, the lights casting a warm, polished glow over the room as it's buzzing with conversations and the clinking of glasses. You stand beside your father, perfectly poised, playing the part of the dutiful daughter.

This night isn’t about you—it’s about him. Every charming smile, every polite nod you give is an extension of the image he wants to project: a perfect family, a perfect father. But you know the truth.

As you watch your father work the room, shaking hands and making connections, you know your role is to boost his image—not because he cares about you, but because you are part of his political strategy. Still, this is your chance to prove yourself, to show him you can be the daughter he wants, even if the real connection is long gone.

Then, out of the corner of your eye, you see Seungmin and his brother-in-law approaching. Your heart skips a beat, but you hurriedly calm yourself down, knowing this isn’t the time for emotions—it’s the time for control.

Seungmin and his brother-in-law stop in front of you and your father. Seungmin’s gaze briefly meets yours for a second, and despite the public setting, the intensity of that look sends a small thrill through you.

“Good evening,” Seungmin’s brother-in-law says politely and formally. “We’re here representing our father tonight, and he sends his regards.”

Your father, ever the politician, gives a thin, practiced smile. “Ah, yes, it’s unfortunate he couldn’t attend himself. I suppose running a campaign must keep him quite busy.”

There’s a subtle edge to his words, a slight sneer that isn’t lost on you or anyone, but fortunately, Seungmin and his brother-in-law remain composed, not rising to the bait.

“Of course,” Seungmin replies calmly. “He’s doing everything he can for the campaign.”

Your father’s gaze shifts to Seungmin, sizing him up before his eyes narrow in curiosity. "Seungmin, isn’t it? I’ve heard good things about you. You’ve been quite the asset to your father’s campaign, haven’t you?”

“Oh, please. I’m just doing the best I can to help,” Seungmin humbly replies, perfectly nailing the model son role.

“It’s refreshing to see someone so dedicated to their family’s success. We could all learn from that, couldn’t we?” your father says, glancing at you, making it clear that his praise for Seungmin is a thinly veiled comparison.

You keep your composure, your smile unwavering, even as a knot of discomfort forms in your stomach. You entertain yourself with the thought that your father has no idea what is really going on—that the very man he is praising is the one you are secretly seeing. The joke is on him.

“Have you met my daughter?" your father asks, gesturing toward you as if you haven’t been standing there the whole time.

Seungmin turns to you, his expression steady, but his eyes flicker with something only you can recognize. He holds out his hand. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

“Likewise,” you reply, keeping your smile polite. You have to continue acting as if nothing has ever happened between you and him.

Hours pass as you mingle with other guests, but the pressure of keeping up appearances starts to weigh on you. Toward the end of the party, when most of the guests are distracted, you slip away, catching Seungmin’s eye as you do. He follows discreetly, and soon you find yourselves in an isolated part of the building, the muffled sounds of the party still audible.

The moment he comes into sight, you let out a sigh of relief, allowing yourself to drop the mask you’ve worn all night.

"I missed you," he whispers as he steps closer. Before you can respond, he presses his lips to yours, the kiss filled with longing and the tension that has been building up since your last secret meeting.

"I missed you too," you murmur between kisses.

In the dimly lit, secluded hallway, you and Seungmin find a rare moment of peace. His hands cup your face, his lips moving urgently against yours, pouring all the longing and frustration of the past few days into every kiss.

It is reckless, but being with him feels too good to resist. In fact, it feels so good that you almost forget the dark shadow that has been hanging over your mind. Almost.

"My mom found out about us," you blurt out after breaking the kiss.

Seungmin freezes, his lips barely an inch from yours, his brows furrowing as he processes what you’ve just said. "Wait... what?"

“I guess we didn’t fool the doorman,” you say with a heavy sigh as the gravity of the situation sinks in.

For a moment, Seungmin just stands there, panic rising in his chest. If your mom knows, it won’t be long before both of your families find out, and he knows exactly what that would mean for both of you—and for his father’s campaign.

“So... you told her the truth?” he asks, focusing on the possibility that your mom might indirectly support this relationship.

“Obviously, I didn’t want to risk everything with my family for some fling that wasn’t going to last,” you reply meekly.

Seungmin blinks, then his lips curl into a teasing smile. "Oh, so it isn’t just some fling?”

“Seungmin, I’m serious!" you whine in frustration, giving him a playful slap on the chest.

"You can’t keep sneaking into the hotel anymore. It’s too risky, and if my father finds out...” You can’t even finish your sentence without feeling sick to your stomach.

Seungmin’s smile fades as he realizes the danger you are both in. It feels as if the walls are closing in on both sides, and it won’t be long before someone else notices the two of you together. His mind races, trying to think of a solution, somewhere you can be together without the prying eyes of your families.

Just as he opens his mouth to say something, a voice interrupts, and both of you stiffen.

“Seungmin?”

His brother-in-law is standing a few feet away, his eyes narrowing as he glances between the two of you, catching sight of Seungmin’s hand still holding yours.

None of you speak, and in that moment, it feels like the quiet before a storm about to break.

-

Seungmin’s brother-in-law has always been sharp, and tonight is no exception. As you and Seungmin slipped out of the party, thinking you were being discreet, he spotted the two of you. From the moment you met, he sensed something was already there. He observed further, noticing the sneaky glances, the looks that said more than words, and the way you interacted with each other. He must admit, both of you are poor actors.

When his brother-in-law corners the two of you in the hallway, Seungmin braces himself, expecting him to spill everything to his father immediately, knowing what he could gain from it.

“Why aren’t you saying anything?” Seungmin asks, suspicion creeping in. He knows his brother-in-law has always been loyal to the family, especially to his father, so this calm, nonchalant reaction doesn’t add up.

Instead, his brother-in-law glances between you both with a knowing smile and says, "You two are playing a dangerous game, but you know what? I won’t stand in your way."

That doesn't make Seungmin relax. If anything, the words make him more cautious. "And why’s that? Why are you suddenly on my side?”

“Seungmin, I already think of you like my own brother,” his brother-in-law replies simply, with enough sincerity to convince anyone who hears him. “I want you to be happy."

Seungmin remains quiet for a moment, still wary, but realizing he has little choice. Whatever his brother-in-law’s motives are, this is the only lifeline he has right now.

“So, what’s the plan?” Seungmin finally asks, keeping his voice steady.

“I have a boat. It’s docked not far from here. No one checks it, no one comes by." His brother-in-law reaches into the inner pocket of his jacket and pulls out a small set of keys, handing them to Seungmin. "You two can stay there, alone, as long as you need."

Seungmin’s gaze flicks from the keys to his brother-in-law’s face, still unsure if he can fully trust him. But this is the best option you both have right now. He decides to take a leap of faith and takes the keys from him.

"It's docked on the west side, slip twenty-three," his brother-in-law informs him. Before Seungmin can say anything else, he adds, “Oh, you may want to check the first aid kit on the boat.”

Seungmin’s eyebrows knit in confusion. “What for?”

His brother-in-law puts on a mischievous grin. “Let’s just say you’ll find some essentials in there."

Seungmin’s suspicion deepens, but he doesn’t question it further. Maybe his brother-in-law is being sincere, so Seungmin stops overthinking it. On a more important note, you both need a place to hide, and this is as good as it’s going to get. He glances over at you, and with a silent agreement, you both know you have to take this opportunity, no matter the risks.

“Thanks,” Seungmin mutters, cautious but grateful. “I appreciate it.”

His brother-in-law pats him on the shoulder, giving him a reassuring nod. “Just be careful,” he says.

With that, you and Seungmin slip away into the night, heading toward the boat where, for at least one night, you can finally be alone.

-

The boat is bigger than you thought it would be, bobbing gently in the moonlit water. As you step onto the deck, you feel a sense of freedom, as if, for once, the outside world can’t reach you. You settle into the small but comfortable space, the tension between you fading into something softer, more tender.

When it’s just the two of you, you can finally let your guard down and be your authentic self. You walk up to him and slip into his arms for a warm embrace.

"It's just you and me now," you say, resting your forehead against him.

"Just you and me," he repeats, gently tilting your head with his hand on your chin, and places the gentlest kiss, treating you like a fragile piece of art.

Seungmin leads you through the cabin, the scent of saltwater and wood lingering in the air, mixing with the faint aroma of the sea breeze drifting in from the open hatch.

“This is nice,” you comment, running your fingers along the edge of a worn leather couch. “But do you think your brother-in-law keeps any food around? I’m starving.”

He lets out a soft chuckle and makes his way to the small kitchenette, opening the fridge with a creak. “Looks like frozen pizza is on the menu,” he says, pulling out the pack and showing it to you.

As Seungmin prepares the frozen pizza and tosses it into the microwave, you head to the bedroom to find something comfortable to wear. In the bathroom, you find a soft bathrobe neatly folded on the top shelf. Without a second thought, you change out of your dress and into the robe. As you tie the belt around your waist, you sigh in relief, feeling a great sense of comfort.

By the time you return, Seungmin is plating the pizza, the smell filling the small cabin. He has also found a bottle of champagne in the cabinet, the label a little worn and the drink lukewarm. Both of you eat in comfortable silence, exchanging small smiles between bites, enjoying this rare moment of normalcy.

When the food is all gone, you lean back in your seat with a contented sigh. The dinner is simple, yet it feels more special than any you’ve had before.

Being the neat person he is, Seungmin wastes no time cleaning up after dinner.

“You can clean up later,” you tell him, sipping your warm champagne.

“There’s not much to clean anyway,” he replies, taking the dirty plates back into the cabin.

Remembering what Seungmin’s brother-in-law said before you left, you decide to go on a little hunt for the first-aid kit he mentioned and see what’s inside. It doesn’t take long to find it tucked away in one of the cabinets in the control room. As you open it, you blink in surprise.

“Well, well…” you murmur, pulling out a small Ziploc bag among the usual bandages and ointments.

Seungmin raises an eyebrow when you bring it over and show him. He shakes his head, already deciding it’s a bad idea.

You shrug, holding the pack out to him with a playful smile. “Why not? Let’s live a little.”

“We shouldn’t even be touching his things,” he says, leaning back on the sun lounger.

“What are you talking about? We’ve just eaten his frozen pizza and drunk his champagne,” you remind him, settling onto his lap.

“I can buy those things back for him,” he replies, folding his hands behind his head.

“But he mentioned it, so that means he’s fine with it, right?”

He shakes his head, eyes closed, unwilling to hear more persuasion.

“Come on,” you urge, taking a rolled blunt out of the bag and rolling it between your fingers. “Just one. It’s a special night, isn’t it?”

He opens his eyes and finds himself unable to resist you when you smile so sweetly. He reaches for the blunt.

“Alright, fine," he gives in, "but just one.”

You light it and take a slow drag, letting the smoke curl lazily into the air before handing it over to him. His fingers brush against yours as he inhales, and you watch as his shoulders visibly relax.

The two of you take turns smoking, the night enveloping you in a peaceful cocoon. The quiet of the water, the gentle sway of the boat, and the faint glow of stars above make everything feel far away, as if the world and its complications couldn’t touch you here.

“I could get used to this,” you softly mutter, your voice barely louder than a whisper as you nuzzle into Seungmin’s side, sharing the sun lounger with him, the blunt hanging loosely between your fingers.

Seungmin exhales long and slow, his arm coming around your shoulders to pull you close. “Yeah, me too.”

The smoke, the sea, and the quiet lull you into a different kind of peace—an escape from everything, if only for tonight.

With one last drag, you finish the rest of the blunt yourself. You rest your head on Seungmin’s shoulder, your hand on his chest, feeling the steady rhythm of his breath. For once, you don’t feel like you’re running away from something.

“I wish it could always be like this,” you murmur, more to yourself than to him. “I feel happiest when it’s just us, alone like this.”

Seungmin shifts slightly, his arm tightening around you as if he wants to hold onto this moment forever. He presses a soft kiss to the top of your head, and your heart flutters in response. He doesn’t say anything at first, just holds you closer, and you wonder if he feels the same way—that the world outside seems so distant when it’s just the two of you.

“I feel it too,” he finally says. “When it’s just us… it feels like everything makes sense. Like we’re the only two people in the world that matter.”

His words make your heart ache with a bittersweet warmth. In a moment like this, it’s easy to forget about the chaos waiting for you back home.

Here, it’s just you and him.

You stare at him, your faces merely inches apart. The moonlight casts a soft glow across his features, and God, he’s just so beautiful. His eyes meet yours, and the longer you look into them, the more you see the depth of his feelings. There’s something tender, something vulnerable—you’ve never seen him look at you like this before.

Seungmin swallows, his Adam’s apple bobbing as if he’s gathering courage. Then, in a soft yet steady voice, he says, “I love you.”

The words hang in the air, suspended between you, and for a moment, you forget how to breathe. He’s never said it before, and hearing those words now, spoken under the starry sky with the waves lapping gently against the boat, it feels… magical.

“I love you,” he repeats, his voice more certain this time, his eyes steady on yours. “I don’t care about the rest of it—our families, the politics, all of it. I love you."

Tears well up in your eyes, not from sadness, but from the overwhelming joy of hearing him say those words. You feel the sincerity in them, the weight of what it means for him to admit it, to declare it, despite everything.

You reach for him, cupping his face in your hands. Using your thumb, you softly rub his cheek. “I love you too, Seungmin, and I think I’ve loved you for longer than I can admit," your voice breaking as you try to hold back your emotions.

Seungmin leans in, closing the small distance between you, and kisses you softly, slowly, as if savoring the moment. His lips are warm against yours, and in that kiss, you feel everything: his love, his promise, his fear, and his hope.

-

Things are going well. Your relationship with Seungmin remains a secret, and the results of the pre-vote are out, revealing that your father is leading the race by an 8% margin. Everyone is happy, all is well—but you have this nagging feeling in your chest that things won’t stay like this for long. You hope it's for the better, and God, you hope that's true.

To celebrate your father leading in the pre-vote, your family holds a brunch this afternoon. Being invited to this is a significant step toward winning your way back into the family. Your little sister has taken your hand under the table, squeezing it as a sign of solidarity. She hasn’t said it out loud, but you can feel that she’s happy to have you here, part of the family again, even if only for a moment.

However, as the minutes tick by and your father doesn’t appear, a gnawing feeling settles in your chest. You try to brush it off, focusing on how far you’ve come. After all, you’re here, included, proving that you can still be the daughter your family wants you to be.

Then your mother calls you and asks you to follow her to your father’s study. She makes you sit on the leather sofa in anticipation. Her expression is soft, but there’s something behind her eyes that makes your stomach churn, and you know something is wrong before she even speaks.

“When was the last time you saw him?” she asks, her voice quiet but direct.

Your mind flashes back to that night with Seungmin on the boat. You haven’t told anyone, and as far as you know, no one has seen you. But your mother’s gaze is sharp, and she’ll know if you lie.

“I… I went on a boat with Seungmin,” you admit meekly, your voice small and low. “But we were discreet. I swear, no one saw us.”

Your mother lets out a heavy sigh, her hand going to the nape of her neck as she massages it lightly. She doesn’t say anything but takes out her phone from her tweed jacket, tapping the screen a few times before handing it to you. Your eyes widen as you look at the screen, the shock hitting you like a punch to the gut.

There on the screen are photos—compromising photos. Some show you smoking; others are more intimate, even naked. You feel the blood drain from your face. These are pictures from that night on Seungmin’s brother-in-law’s boat, now plastered across the internet.

“Mom…” you stammer, trying to make sense of it. “There was no one there except us. This can’t be happening. It wasn’t Seungmin… it couldn’t be.”

“I’m afraid you weren’t as discreet as you thought,” your mother says, her expression composed but with a grave undertone. “Your father found out about the relationship. He’s furious, and this… this could ruin everything for him.”

You feel faint and hurriedly lean against the table to steady yourself. “No… no, it can’t be. Seungmin would never—”

The idea of Seungmin betraying you is unthinkable, but the pictures don’t lie. Someone had been there, someone had taken them, and now your life is spiraling out of control.

“I don’t believe it’s him,” you insist, shaking your head in denial. “Seungmin wouldn’t do this to me. He cares about me.”

“Think about what’s best for you,” your mother says, her voice rising slightly as she struggles to keep her composure. “Whether it’s Seungmin or his family behind this, we can’t take any more risks. You need to stay away from him, at least until I can figure out what’s really going on.”

Your heart aches, torn between your love for Seungmin and the loyalty you’re still trying to prove to your family.

“I’m sending you back to your hotel,” she says in a tone that leaves no room for argument. “And you’re not to leave until I say it’s safe. Your father is already angry enough, and we can’t afford any more mistakes.”

Before you can protest, she leaves, the door clicking shut behind her, leaving you standing in the middle of the room. You want to believe in Seungmin, but now doubts plague your mind. A question gnaws at you: Is your love for Seungmin worth risking everything you have left?

-

The car ride back to the hotel is a blur of tears and shattered trust. Your chest feels heavy, the weight of betrayal pressing down on you, suffocating you.

The man you trusted, the one who held you close, is part of the very family responsible for leaking those photos. Whether Seungmin is directly involved or not doesn’t matter anymore—his family is, and that’s enough for you to push him away.

The car pulls up to the curb, and the doorman is there instantly, opening the door and offering his hand to help you out. You feel faint, your legs trembling from the emotions raging inside, but you force yourself to stand, to walk, and to keep your head up if you can.

Just as you step onto the pavement, a familiar hand grabs your arm. You stop in your tracks, your heart aching in your chest.

Seungmin. He’s there, his eyes wide with worry, as if he hadn’t expected to see you like this. And oh, the sight of him, the man you thought you could trust, brings everything crashing down.

Without thinking, you rush at him, your fists pounding against his chest in a fit of anger and betrayal.

“How could you?!” you scream through your tears, each punch that lands fueled by the pain inside. “How could you let them do this to me?!”

Seungmin doesn’t fight back. He just stands there, letting you hit him, his face filled with shock and pain as he tries to reach for you, to explain.

“It wasn’t me,” he tries to say, but the words are lost in the chaos of your emotions. “You know I’d never—”

“Stop lying!” you shout, cutting him off.

Your emotions hit their boiling point, the pain overwhelming you. “You expect me to believe you didn’t know? That this wasn’t some way to tear me apart?”

His eyes widen in disbelief, his hands reaching for you, but you slap them away. “I don’t know who’s doing this, but I would never let anyone hurt you like this. You have to believe me!”

“Believe you? After everything that’s happened? I’ve been humiliated, and you come here pretending like you had nothing to do with it?” Your voice rises with every word, and you’re too far gone, too hurt.

He tries again, stepping closer, but you shove him hard enough that he staggers backward. “I can’t even look at you right now. Get out! Get the fuck out of my face!” you scream, tears streaming down your cheeks.

Seeing you like this is painful for him, but not as painful as knowing he caused this. His hands tremble as he tries one last time to reach for you. “Please, don’t do this—let’s talk—”

Drawn by the commotion, hotel security steps in between you and him, blocking him from approaching you.

“Sir, you need to leave,” one of them says, placing a firm hand on Seungmin’s shoulder.

“Wait! Just let me talk to her!” He tries to push past them, but they hold him back, stronger.

It’s too late. You’ve already turned away, not even sparing him a last glance. He can’t bear the thought of being the cause of all this.

As the door of your hotel room clicks shut behind you, the silence fills the room, and everything comes crashing down again. This time, you don’t have anything left to fight with, so you let the pain and heartbreak consume you, sinking to the floor as tears flood your eyes.

It hits you now—you’ve pushed away the one person you thought you could trust, but everything feels broken beyond repair. It feels like you’re losing everything: your family, your trust, and the man you thought was different.

Leaning against the closed door that seals you off from the outside world, you wonder if there’s anything left to hold on to.

-

The more Seungmin thinks about it, the more certain he becomes that there is only one person who could have leaked the photos—someone who knew about the boat, someone involved. His brother-in-law.

He doesn’t waste any more time. He grabs his car keys and drives straight to his brother-in-law’s place. A storm rages in his chest, anger mixed with dread, his head full of accusations and possible answers.

When he arrives, he skips the courtesies and storms inside. He finds his brother-in-law leaning against the kitchen counter, looking surprised but not startled to see him.

“Seungmin? What’s going on?” he casually asks.

Seungmin doesn’t stop until he’s standing right in front of him, glaring into his eyes, refusing to be fooled again.

“You know damn well what’s going on. You’re the only one who knew about the boat, the only one who could’ve tipped off the paparazzi. Tell me the truth!" He slams his hand on the counter, causing a spoon resting on the edge of a bowl to clatter. "Did you leak those photos?”

His brother-in-law’s face tenses, the calm façade slipping, replaced by panic. “Look, Seungmin, before you go off—”

“Just answer me!” Seungmin urges, his voice cracking with anger. He can’t bear the thought that someone so close to him—someone he thought of as a brother—has betrayed him like this.

After an intense silence, his brother-in-law sighs and rubs his forehead. “Fine. Yes, I hired the paparazzi.”

Deep down, Seungmin knew this would be the answer, but it doesn’t stop the anger and betrayal surging through him. His hands ball into fists at his sides, his body shaking from holding back violence.

“You set us up? Why?”

His brother-in-law looks at him and licks his lips before answering, “It wasn’t just me, alright? I had permission—permission from your father.”

Seungmin could understand his brother-in-law’s motive: he wants to get on his father’s good side, to be acknowledged and approved. But his father? His own father, whom Seungmin respects and admires, someone he has helped campaign for because he believes in him?

“My father? He knew? He approved this?” Seungmin stammers, struggling to comprehend it.

“Your father’s been watching you, Seungmin. He knows about your little affair with her, and he’s not happy. So yeah, he gave the go-ahead. The idea was to expose her, make her the problem,” his brother-in-law explains, and as if he couldn’t say anything more stupid, he adds, “It’s nothing personal, just politics.”

Seungmin knocks everything off the table—plates, glass, spoon—all clattering to the floor. “You ruined her life for politics!" he shouts, hoping it’ll knock some sense into his brother-in-law’s crooked mind.

“You know how this works, Seungmin,” his brother-in-law says calmly, still leaning against the counter. “Your father is just trying to protect you.”

“Protect me? By destroying her? By ruining her reputation?” Seungmin’s jaw clenches as he fists his hands so hard his knuckles turn white.

“She’s not innocent in all of this, and you know you shouldn’t have gotten involved with her in the first place,” his brother-in-law says, his gaze piercing.

It’s betrayal upon betrayal. Seungmin’s mind is still struggling to process the fact that his father orchestrated the entire thing, using his brother-in-law to tear them apart.

Without another word, Seungmin storms out, but his brother-in-law daringly runs his mouth once more, “You’ll thank me later, Seungmin. Trust me.”

But Seungmin isn’t listening. His mind is busy planning what to do next—how to fix this, how to make things right. His number one priority is not letting his family ruin your life any further.

-

Seungmin storms into his father’s office, despite his father clearly being in the middle of an interview. His father hurriedly signals his secretary to escort the interviewer out of the room, knowing Seungmin is barely containing his anger.

The man behind the desk doesn’t flinch, already knowing why his son is there. He’s always composed and in control, but today, Seungmin isn’t going to let him keep that control.

“You set me up,” Seungmin spits, his voice sharp with betrayal. His father looks up, surprised but not shaken. “You used your own son to destroy her, to ruin her life, just because of some political rivalry?”

His father leans back in his chair, calmly putting his hands together in front of him. “It’s not about you, Seungmin. It’s about our family’s legacy. You were distracted, involved with the wrong person. I had to make sure you stayed focused on what really matters.”

“What really matters?” Seungmin’s voice shakes with disbelief and anger. “What really matters is that you took someone I care about and humiliated her! For what? Your campaign?”

“That girl was trouble,” his father remarks coldly. “She’s from a family that stands against everything we’re trying to build. You should have known better.”

“I don’t care about the politics!” Seungmin shouts, stepping closer to his father’s desk, unafraid for the first time of going against his father’s principles. “I care about her, and you—you ruined her for your own gain.”

His father stands, towering over the desk and staring intensely into his eyes. “You think you can just walk away from this? From your family? We’ve sacrificed everything for you, Seungmin. You’re going to be a part of this, whether you like it or not.”

“No, I’m not. I’m done with all of this. I’ll never be a part of this family again,” Seungmin says, shaking his head, done being a pawn in his father’s political games.

His father’s eyes darken, and a cold smirk rises at the corner of his lips. “You think this is all about one girl?” he scoffs.

“You’re naïve, Seungmin. You haven’t been in this world long enough to understand how power works. Sacrifices have to be made. And if you walk away from this family, from me, there’s more where that came from.”

Seungmin’s chest tightens with disbelief. “What do you mean by that?”

His father leans forward, his voice low and dangerous. “You think those were the only photos? There’s more from her past. I have them, and if you walk away now—if you so much as think about turning your back on this family—I will release every last one. She won’t have a life left to salvage.”

His father pulls open a drawer and takes out a file, showing Seungmin the photos he’s been keeping as a weapon. “But if you stay—if you fall in line and keep your head down until the election is over—I’ll make sure they disappear.”

Seungmin is hit with another wave of betrayal. His father had planned this all along, dangling her reputation as leverage over him. He expected manipulation, but this? This was beyond anything he could have imagined.

“You’re willing to destroy everything just for power?”

His father doesn’t flinch. “It’s not about power, Seungmin. It’s about winning. And I have won.”

-

TEN DAYS LATER.

The election is over, and his father has indeed won, but to Seungmin, it means he has nothing left to lose.

The man in front of him has torn apart the one thing that means the most to him, and for what? A title? A seat in the governor’s office?

As everyone gathers around his father, congratulating him and celebrating his victory, Seungmin can't help but wonder: does his father feel the slightest bit of disgust for what he did to achieve this win? Seungmin certainly does. He can't look at his father the same way anymore and refuses being related to him apart from sharing the same DNA.

Seungmin makes his way toward his father, and when he's close enough, he extends his hand. His father doesn't hesitate and grips it, shaking it with a triumphant smile plastered across his face.

"Are you happy now?" Seungmin asks calmly.

"Well, I've won," his father replies with a sickening smirk.

There’s not a hint of remorse on his face for what he did to his own son, which only convinces Seungmin further that he wants no part of this anymore.

"But you've lost your son," Seungmin boldly remarks, each word carrying a finality his father can’t ignore.

Without waiting for his father’s reply, Seungmin turns on his heel and walks away—from his father, his family, everything. He leaves the office behind, as if it’s already become a distant memory.

There's only one thing left to do now.

He drives straight to your father’s campaign headquarters because he doesn't know where else to start. Your family is the only one who knows where you are, and although he doubts any of them would tell him, he can’t—he mustn't—give up.

When he arrives, the place is busy with activity, but it offers a different kind of atmosphere compared to his father’s headquarters. He balls his hands into fists in determination and enters the building without hesitation.

"Apologies, sir, but the headquarters is strictly for staff only tonight," a security guard blocks him from stepping inside.

"I need to talk to someone in there," Seungmin says, hoping the guard will understand and let him through.

"Unless you’ve already made an appointment, we can't let you in, sir," the guard says firmly, crossing his arms and standing in front of the doorway.

Reluctantly, Seungmin steps back, trying to come up with a new plan. He considers waiting outside until one of your family members leaves. It’s a flawed idea, but it’s the best one he has.

Then, as if by divine intervention, your younger sister appears at the reception desk. Seungmin takes a step closer to the entrance, ignoring the guard, and does everything he can to catch her attention, even calling her by her full name.

She looks over her shoulder and, upon seeing him, her expression turns cold and defensive. She never trusted him, and Seungmin doesn’t blame her. Still, he’s desperate, and this might be his only chance to find you.

“I need to know where she is,” Seungmin says, his voice steady but pleading. “I need to see her before it’s too late.”

Your sister crosses her arms, scrutinizing him. "Why should I help you? After everything that’s happened, why should I trust you?"

His throat tightens, but he meets her gaze with unwavering sincerity. “Because I love her. I had no part in what my father did. I’d give up everything to be with her. I already have.”

There’s a long pause as your sister’s expression shifts, her defenses slowly lowering. Perhaps she sees the earnestness in his eyes, the depth of his regret, and his determination.

She turns to the receptionist, writes something down on a piece of paper, and hands it to him. “If you break her heart again, I swear to God...” she mutters, leaving the threat unfinished.

Seungmin’s heart leaps. He’s just met her, but she already feels more like family than his own ever has. “Thank you," he says, his voice full of gratitude.

“She’s leaving the country tomorrow, so you’d better hurry,” she adds, turning away before he can say anything more.

Every second becomes precious as his heart pounds with a new sense of urgency. This is it. He won’t lose you—not to his father, not to the mess his family has created. This time, nothing will stop him.

-

The country house is quiet, almost too quiet. The only sounds are the soft rustling of the trees outside and the occasional creak of the old wooden floorboards beneath your feet. The room is stifling, but it’s your thoughts that press down on you the most. You fold another shirt and tuck it into your suitcase, packing for tomorrow, planning to leave nothing behind.

It was a mistake to come back here, and you know it now. This city was once a refuge; now, it feels like a prison, a place to hide. You’ve become a liability to your family, and your father made that painfully clear when he sent you here. You were told to stay quiet, remain hidden, and leave without a trace in the morning.

There’s no future for you here anyway.

Tears prick the corners of your eyes as you zip up the suitcase. You can’t take any more of this—feeling like a pawn in a game that was never yours to play. Leaving is the only choice left. It’s for the best, even if it means abandoning everything you’ve ever known. It’s not an easy decision, but you force yourself to push through it.

Then, suddenly, there’s a knock on the door, breaking the stillness of the night.

Your heart leaps, and for a moment, you freeze. You remember your father’s warnings: Never open the door. No one is to know you’re here. Stay hidden. You take a step back, away from the door.

Another knock comes, this time more urgent.

You remain still, holding your breath, praying that whoever it is will go away. But then you hear a voice—his voice.

“Please... it’s me, Seungmin.”

Your heart races at the sound of his voice, familiar and full of emotion. You badly want to rush to the door, to throw it open and fall into his arms, but the alarm bells in your head ring louder. You can’t. You shouldn’t.

“I know you’re in there,” Seungmin says, his voice breaking between words. “I’ve been looking for you everywhere. Please... just let me in.”

You clench your fists, torn between what you know is right and the ache in your chest. You stay quiet, pressing your back against the door, fighting the overwhelming urge to respond.

"I had to find you," Seungmin continues, his voice softer now, almost desperate. “I couldn’t let you leave without seeing you. I can’t lose you—not after everything we’ve been through.”

Tears well in your eyes as you lean your forehead against the door, trying to keep your emotions in check. You shouldn’t let him in. This is a mistake—all of it—but hearing him on the other side, so close yet out of reach, is tearing you apart.

“I just want to be with you," Seungmin whispers. "I love you.”

The words break something inside you, and before you realize what you’re doing, your hand is on the doorknob. Torn between fear and love, you know you shouldn’t open the door, but your heart is aching for him. No matter how hard you try, you can’t ignore the pull you feel toward him.

“Please, don’t shut me out," he mutters, his voice thick with hopelessness.

Your walls crumble. With shaking hands, you unlock the door and pull it open, revealing Seungmin standing there, his face full of worry and relief. His eyes soften the moment they meet yours. Without a word, he steps forward and takes you into his arms.

He holds you tightly, his warmth familiar and comforting. He feels like home. Finally, you let out a breath you didn’t realize you’d been holding.

Seungmin buries his face in your hair, whispering, “I’m here. I’m not going anywhere.”

You pull back just enough to look up at him, your eyes searching his. In that moment, without thinking, you lean in and press your lips to his—a kiss full of longing and everything you’ve been holding back for so long.

In the quiet of that night, with the stars shining through the open window and the future uncertain, you know that, despite everything, being with him is the only thing that makes sense.

-

The soft glow of moonlight filters through the curtains, casting a delicate sheen across the room. Your bodies are entwined beneath the sheets, the warmth of the moment lingering between you.

Seungmin hovers above you, his chest rising and falling as he gently caresses your face, his fingertips tracing the outline of your cheek like you are something sacred. His gaze is intense but tender, as if memorizing every part of you, still unable to believe you are really here in his arms.

His touch is soft, but the weight of the emotions between you is palpable. You can feel it in the way his fingers brush over your skin. He hasn’t said much, but his eyes tell everything—relief, love, fear of what could have been if he had lost you for good.

“I almost lost you,” he murmurs, his thumb grazing your lips. You lean into his touch, savoring the feeling of being so close, so connected. “I don’t ever want to feel that again.”

You gaze up at him, your heart aching with affection. Here, in this moment, it is just you and him, and nothing else matters.

Seungmin lowers his head to place a soft kiss on your forehead, then your lips, as if sealing some unspoken promise between the two of you.

“Let’s go somewhere,” his lips brush against yours with every word. “Let's start over, somewhere far away from all of this.”

His words hang in the air. The invitation comes so suddenly that you don’t know how to react. You blink up at him, feeling a mix of emotions—hope, love, but also fear. You love him deeply, more than you thought was possible, but you don’t want him to lose everything for you the way you have for him.

“Seungmin…” you whisper, your voice barely audible as your hand comes up to cup his face. “Are you sure? I don’t want you to lose your family, not like I did.”

“I’m sure,” he says firmly, his voice filled with conviction. “This, us, it’s what I want. I want to leave all of this behind and just be with you.”

A tear rolls down your cheek as you stare into his eyes, seeing the truth in his words, the earnestness of his intentions. While it makes you indescribably happy, it also breaks your heart a little. He is giving up everything—his family, his place in their world—just to be with you. You love him more for it, but it's also a heavy burden to bear.

“You really mean that?” you ask, your voice trembling with emotion.

Seungmin nods, his forehead pressing gently against yours. “Yes. This is what I want.”

It feels like the world has finally shifted, like things are starting to fall into place. Even though the future is still uncertain, you believe in him, in the two of you together, and that's enough.

“I love you,” you whisper, pulling him down into a soft, lingering kiss. “As long as we’re together, everything’s going to be okay.”

He kisses you back, holding you tightly against him, and in that moment, everything becomes clear. This is not just a mere coincidence. This is fate. You and Seungmin, together, is fate.

-

The hum of the plane's engines is comforting, familiar, as you both settle into your seats, side by side.

The memory of that first flight together—the stolen glances, the whispered conversations—comes rushing back, but this time it feels different. This is a new beginning, a chance to start over.

Seungmin glances over at you, a playful glint filling his warm brown eyes. He shifts in his seat, turning toward you just like he had the first time.

"Hi, I’m Seungmin,” he softly says, offering his hand in mock formality, his smile full of warmth. “Traveling alone?”

You can’t help but smile back, slipping your hand into his. “Nice to meet you. And I’m traveling with someone very special, actually.”

You both chuckle, the familiarity of the moment easing the tension of everything that came before. It's like stepping into a memory but with the promise of something better ahead.

Seungmin’s eyes soften as he looks at you, and he leans in closer, his voice lowering.

“Business or pleasure?” you ask playfully, replaying the conversation that had sparked your connection all those months ago.

“Neither,” he answers, his voice gentle but certain. “I’m traveling for a happy ending.”

His words send a flutter through your chest, and you feel the warmth spread all the way to your fingertips. You look at him, your heart overflowing with emotion, knowing that this isn’t just a flight—it is a leap into the unknown, into something new and full of possibility.

You squeeze his hand, feeling the familiar warmth of his skin against yours. “A happy ending,” you repeat with a smile.

As the plane begins to taxi down the runway, he intertwines his fingers with yours, holding on tightly, unwilling to let go. You both stare out the window, watching the world fall away beneath you, your hearts beating in sync.

And as the plane lifts off, climbing higher into the sky, you know that whatever the future holds, as long as you are together, everything will be okay.

The past is behind you now, and in this moment, with Seungmin by your side, the world feels wide open, full of hope and promise. Into a happy ending, you go.

-

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[ravenrothstr]

Lie With You

summary. Jaehyun turned back time to you, just to know he couldn't keep anything from the journey.

genre. college! au. fluff

words count. 10.0k

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

--⩇⩇:⩇⩇--

You stood near the entrance of the Neo Club, your tiny fingers gripping the paper bag you had prepared earlier, waiting for your boyfriend. It had been two years since you two got together, although it felt like only the first half of the relationship was when he truly cherished you. Now, it seemed like you were the only one still holding on.

"I can never get used to this," you whispered to yourself, feeling a wave of embarrassment wash over you.

Only God knew how much you wanted to disappear into the shadows. The Neo Club was where your boyfriend and his friends hung out to write and practice their music—they were, after all, the university band. The thought of his friends seeing you here, waiting after he had ghosted you for months, gnawed at you. But you knew better than anyone that you needed this. The relationship needed this.

Your heart raced when the door opened, and to your relief, it was your boyfriend, Jaehyun, stepping out first.

"Jaehyun ah", you called softly.

He didn't look happy but he couldn't brush you off in front of others.

"Oh, y/n. You're here?"

"Yeah, I thought I'd stop by." You paused for a moment before continuing quietly, "It is our anniversary after all."

Jaehyun's face tightened at the reminder, but he quickly composed himself. It was obvious he had forgotten—just like he had forgotten Valentine’s Day.

"Y/n!", Doyoung greeted you enthusiastically, flashing you a warm smile.

You radiate the energy back quickly, Doyoung has always been nice to you regardless and you're more than thankful for that.

"Hi Doyoung, nice to see you again", you glance over Jaehyun out of the corner of your eye. You caught the faint sneer twisting his lips.

"You too, we were about to grab dinner. Come join us",wrapping an arm around Ten's shoulder.

The three of them were really close, as they bonded through their passion for music. However, you always felt Jaehyun had a silent jealousy towards Doyoung. Before you could answer Doyoung, Jaehyun was quick to interfere in the conversation.

"No, it's our anniversary. She can't spend time with you"

You were stunned, but yes. Tonight is important for you, you had planned it all for weeks ago.

--

The two of you parted ways with Doyoung and Ten and walked toward the nearby park. The walk was quiet; neither of you said a word.

"How contradictory," you thought bitterly.

You reminisced about how Jaehyun used to reach for your hand so naturally, especially on nights like this. You missed it more than you could express. Gathering all your courage, you decided to ask for it one last time.

"Can I… hold your hand? Just this once, I promise."

"Oh. Sure, here." Jaehyun reached out, gently taking your hand.

The simple touch made you emotional. It was bittersweet—both comforting and painful all at once.

Once you both reached the park, the cool evening breeze swept through the air, carrying with it a quiet serenity. You found a bench under the soft glow of the park's lampposts, and you gently placed the paper bag you had been carrying beside you. Jaehyun sat down next to you, his expression distant but calm.

You reached into the bag and pulled out a small cake, carefully wrapped in a box. You had chosen it from his favorite bakery, hoping it might spark a little warmth between you two. It was a simple slice of vanilla cake, layered with whipped cream and strawberries—a favorite from your earlier days together.

“I got this for us,” you said quietly, handing him a fork.

Jaehyun glanced at the cake, then at you before taking the fork from your hand. You cut a small piece for yourself, and for a moment, both of you were lost in the quiet rhythm of eating. The sweetness of the cake contrasted with the heaviness in the air.

Jaehyun took a bite, chewing slowly.

“It’s good,” he said, though his voice lacked the enthusiasm you were once used to.

You offered a faint smile, feeling the weight of the moment pressing down on you. As you ate, memories of the past flooded your mind—the times when sharing a simple dessert would have brought laughter, playful banter, and warmth. Now, the silence was deafening, and each bite of cake tasted bittersweet.

You glanced over at Jaehyun, noticing how even the joy of something familiar, something you used to share, seemed distant now. He ate slowly, almost as if going through the motions, and you realized that the cake, much like your relationship, was a fleeting attempt to recapture something that was already slipping away.

"Jaehyun ah", you called.

He responded with a hum, not bothering to lift his face toward you. As you both finished the last bites, you wiped your fingers on a napkin and looked at him one more time, hoping for a connection that never came. The cake was gone, and with it, the last remnant of the sweetness you had once shared.

"Let's not see each other again"

He stopped breathing at your words, finally meeting your eyes.

"What?"

"You heard me. Let's end this relationship already," you said, your eyes turning glassy before you continued.

"I’ve thought about us, and it’s best for us to part ways. The way you’ve been handling this relationship... it’s clear enough for me to see that I’m not part of the future you’re so busy planning."

"Are you saying I don't think of you in my future? Y/N, you know how much the band, this music, means to me. Making new music, composing... it’s really not easy, and it’s been tough, especially now that I can't come up with anything—"

"I understand, Jaehyun. I really do, but that’s not the point here."

"Then what is the point?"

"Jaehyun, do you even love me anymore?"

Jaehyun froze at your question, the weight of it hanging in the air between you. He opened his mouth to speak but hesitated, as if searching for the right words or perhaps realizing there weren’t any. The silence stretched, painfully long, before he finally spoke.

"Of course, I do, Y/N... but things are just... complicated right now."

You shook your head, feeling a mix of frustration and sadness.

"Complicated," you echoed, your voice breaking slightly.

"That’s all you ever say. It shouldn’t feel like I’m waiting for you to show up for me." He looked away, guilt and confusion flickering in his eyes.

"I didn’t mean to make you feel that way."

"But you did," you whispered. "And now, it’s too late."

Jaehyun’s face tightened as the reality of the situation began to sink in.

"So this is it? You’re giving up on us?"

"I’m not giving up, Jaehyun. I’m letting go. There’s a difference," you replied, feeling tears brimming in your eyes but refusing to let them fall.

"I deserve more than waiting around for someone who’s not sure if he wants me in his life."

Jaehyun remained silent, his hands clenching into fists as if fighting an internal battle. Part of him wanted to fight for you, but deep down, he knew you were right. He hadn’t been the partner you deserved, and now it was too late to fix what was broken.

As you stood up to leave, the weight of your decision felt heavy on your shoulders.

"Goodbye, Jaehyun," you said softly, your voice barely audible.

He watched as you walked away, your figure fading into the distance. For the first time, Jaehyun realized that the music he’d been chasing wasn’t the only thing he’d lost.

Jaehyun dragged himself back to the Neo Club, his mind a tangled mess of emotions. The weight of what just happened gnawed at him, but he pushed it aside, hoping that being with Doyoung and Ten might help him forget, even for a little while.

As he entered the dimly lit room, Doyoung and Ten were standing near the stage, grinning. "Surprise!" they both shouted, holding up a small cake with flickering candles. Jaehyun blinked, confused for a moment.

But then it hit him like a punch to the gut. This wasn’t for him.

"Where’s Y/N?" Doyoung asked, his smile faltering when he saw Jaehyun standing there alone.

Jaehyun’s face went pale, and the realization crashed down on him like a wave.

"Shit..." he muttered under his breath, clenching his fists.

It was your birthday.

He had forgotten. Completely.

The candles flickered in the awkward silence, the joyful surprise that Doyoung and Ten had planned now hanging in the air like a painful reminder. Jaehyun cursed himself, guilt settling in as he realized just how much he had already lost.

--

Jaehyun’s mind was a foggy mess as he stumbled through the park where the two of you had spent countless evenings together. Each step felt slower than the last. He found himself at the fountain—the one that had always been your favourite. The soft trickling of water formed a river-like stream that wound its way through the park, a quiet reminder of all the moments you’d shared.

He stopped in front of it, staring blankly at the rippling water. In his mind, he could still see you there, sitting on the bench with a soft smile on your face, your laughter echoing in his ears. How you used to tease him for getting lost in his thoughts, how you’d grab his hand and pull him close. The memory was so vivid it felt like he could reach out and touch it.

But you weren’t there anymore.

The realization hit him harder than anything else—harder than the silence that followed after you left. You were gone.

He slumped down onto the bench, his hands running through his hair as he tried to process it all. How had it come to this? How had he let you slip away without even realizing what he was losing? The band, the music—it all seemed so distant now, meaningless in comparison to the hollow ache in his chest.

"I’m letting go. There’s a difference," your voice echoed in his mind, soft but final.

You deserved more than he could give, and deep down, he knew that. He knew he had pushed you away, made you feel small, like an afterthought.

But knowing it didn’t make it any easier to swallow.

Jaehyun’s vision blurred as the tears he had been holding back finally spilt over. He didn’t try to wipe them away. He let them fall, dripping onto his jeans as he stared at the fountain, wishing more than anything that he could turn back time. He would hold your hand tighter, make you laugh more, and show you that he loved you instead of leaving you in the shadows.

And now, it was too late.

As the fountain continued its soft, rhythmic flow, Jaehyun whispered into the darkness, knowing no one would hear him.

"I’m sorry... I love you."

But the words, just like you, were gone—carried away by the wind, never to return.

--

Jaehyun glanced back to reality as he searched for a coin in his pocket. He never believed in any superstitious beliefs but could use one tonight. Taking out the coin, ready to make one and toss it into the fountain.

"Take me back," he chanted.

"Just let me be with her a little longer," as he closed his eyes, bringing his hand in the gesture of wishing before tossing the coin.

As Jaehyun's coin splashed into the fountain's waters, he felt a surge of emotion wash over him, a mixture of hope and desperation swirling within his heart. For a fleeting moment, he allowed himself to believe in the possibility of a second chance, of redemption and reconciliation.

However, as the ripples of the coin's impact faded into the night, reality came crashing back with a sobering clarity. Jaehyun knew deep down that time could not be undone, that the wounds of the past ran too deep to be healed by mere wishes.

With a heavy heart, Jaehyun turned away from the fountain, his mind clouded with thoughts of what could have been. As he blinked back the weight of his emotions, he noticed an old man sitting on a nearby bench, his face illuminated by the soft glow of the moon. The man offered him a gentle smile, which Jaehyun returned out of courtesy. There was something about the man that stirred Jaehyun’s curiosity.

"Do you come here often?" Jaehyun asked.

"I come here every night, young man," the old man replied.

"It’s a peaceful place," Jaehyun remarked, gesturing toward the shimmering waters, their reflection reminding him of your eyes.

"Do you believe in the power of wishes?"

The old man’s smile deepened, as though he had been waiting for that question.

"I believe in the power of music," he responded cryptically, his gaze fixed on the fountain.

Jaehyun let out a small chuckle, shaking his head. He couldn't believe he almost expected an old man to have the answer to his problems. He turned to say something more, but when he glanced back, the bench was empty, as if the man had never been there at all. It almost felt like a dream or a delusion. Yet, as Jaehyun looked at the fountain again, he couldn’t shake the feeling that the old man’s words had left something behind—something that had shifted deep within him.

--

As Jaehyun dwells on the mysterious encounter with the old man, his thoughts are consumed by the words uttered about the power of music. With a sense of curiosity driving him, he made his way to the Neo Club.

The room was empty when he entered as he scans the room. It was filled with all the stuff he and his club members would do, the wave of memories comes flashing back in his mind. But nothing came helpful for him in the room. Just as he was about to leave, he heard the sound of the door swinging and sees your small figure coming afterwards.

"Jaehyun? What brings you here?" you inquired, your voice breaking the silence.

Jaehyun froze, his heart skipping a beat at the sound of your voice. He vividly remembered watching you walk away, but there you were, standing before him as if you’d never left. And yet, something about you seemed different—softer, almost unreal. Without a second thought, he closed the distance between you, pulling you into a tight embrace and burying his face in the crook of your neck.

"Y/N, I’m so sorry," he whispered, his voice trembling with emotion. "I’ve been such a fool. I should have never let you go. I don’t know what I was thinking, but I’m so grateful you came back to me."

He clung to you like a lifeline, his words spilling out in a rush.

"Thank you, thank you for giving me another chance. I promise I’ll do better. I’ll make it right this time, I swear. Just don’t leave me again."

His grip tightened as if he feared you might disappear at any moment. But you stayed still, not even hugging him back.

Confused, Jaehyun pulled back slightly, searching your face for a response. His heart pounded in his chest, fear creeping in. Something was off.

"Jaehyun," you began, your voice steady but distant,

"you just confessed to me earlier. What are you apologizing for? Did you lie about going back to the dormitory? Why are you here?"

His heart dropped as the realization hit—this wasn’t the same moment. Something was terribly wrong.

"Well, it's a bit complicated. But nothing to worry about," Jaehyun replied with a reassuring smile.

"Why are you here, though?" you pressed further.

"I was actually looking for Ten. He needed some extra music sheets," Jaehyun explained quickly.

"Oh, perfect timing. I bought some for him earlier. Here, you can give them to him. He’s your roommate anyway," you said, rummaging through your bag and handing the sheets to Jaehyun before offering a quick goodbye.

As Jaehyun watched you walk away, a wave of nostalgia hit him. He remembered how you used to subtly hint at wanting him to walk you home. Though you never directly asked, he had always known. Feeling a sudden urgency, he rushed after you, catching your wrist as you reached the exit.

"Let me walk you back to the dormitory," he offered.

"Are you sure? It's getting dark," you said, concern in your voice.

"I'm sure. I just... I want to spend a little more time with you," Jaehyun confessed, heart pounding with anticipation.

Your puzzled look mirrored the confusion stirring within Jaehyun. Could he really have traveled back to two years ago, to when your relationship had just begun?

"Jaehyun?" you called, snapping him out of his thoughts. "You’ve been zoning out a lot lately. It’s starting to worry me."

“I’m sorry, Y/N. My mind's a mess right now.”

"We can figure it out together, if you want," you smiled at him. Your warmth hit Jaehyun like a wave, and before he knew it, he was leaning in, gently placing a kiss on your lips.

“Was that too early?” he asked, resting his forehead against yours.

"Don't worry. I like it this way," you whispered, sharing a quiet laugh before continuing your walk toward the dormitory.

--

Jaehyun was left reeling, his mind struggling to comprehend the strange turn of events. He didn’t like this gamble he was playing but he ran out of options when he knocked on the dormitory door that he used to share with Ten. No longer later, the door swung open.

“You lost your key again, Jaehyun?”

It was Ten.

Jaehyun tried to understand the situation but the more he spoke to Ten, the more confused he got. As the next day dawns, he begins to start his routine just like how he would back at university. Trying to mix the puzzle.

Jaehyun spends the next few days retracing the familiar steps of his university life, trying to understand where exactly he is in the timeline. It was not easier for him. He kept doing things out of place, calling familiar faces around the campus but none of them recognised him, struggled to get into the right class although some seemed oddly easy this time around. It's as if his mind holds onto memories from a future that hasn't happened yet.

Just as he walked out of his last class of the day, his thoughts immediately turned to you. He had always wanted to wait for you after your classes, but you never let him, thinking it would burden him to pick you up from another faculty. Yet, as time passed and the relationship deepened, you couldn’t help but start longing for that gesture.

Jaehyun remembered how you once brought it up during a fight.

“I didn’t think it mattered,” he had said in frustration.

“It does matter, Jaehyun! You never offer, not once! I know I said it’s fine, but I wanted you to at least try,” you had replied, your voice trembling.

At that moment, he realized how much those small gestures meant to you, but he had been too wrapped up in everything else to notice. The memory of that argument lingered, making him wish he had understood sooner.

Jaehyun found himself walking to your class, his feet moving on instinct as if drawn by a force he couldn’t explain. He stood outside, leaning against the wall, nervously checking the time. His heart raced with anticipation, unsure if this gesture would mean anything now.

As students started to spill out, he caught sight of you, chatting with a friend. For a moment, he hesitated, wondering if he should even be there. But then your eyes met his, and time seemed to slow. He offered a small, unsure smile, hoping you’d remember this moment—the one you had once wanted so badly.

"Jaehyun, you shouldn't be doing this. I can wait for you after you finish your band practice", you whispered to him when you walked towards him. He could see how shy you become.

"I know, but I want to be here for you," Jaehyun replied, his voice low but earnest.

You paused, caught off guard by his sincerity.

"But I don’t want to burden you, especially with everything you have going on."

"No, don't say that. You are not a burden. I want to wait for you after class. It made me feel connected to you", he insisted, taking a step closer.

You felt your heart flutter at his words, a mix of warmth and uncertainty swirling inside you. You searched his face for any signs of doubt, but all you saw was determination. It was a small gesture, yet it felt monumental at that moment.

"Are you sure this is what you want?"

"Yes, absolutely".

--

You walked side by side with Jaehyun, a gentle warmth spread through you, but your shyness began to creep in. The way he looked at you, with genuine interest and kindness, made your stomach flutter. You tried to focus on what to say about your day, but your thoughts felt jumbled.

When you reached the café, the aroma of freshly brewed coffee filled the air, and you felt a bit more at ease. Jaehyun held the door open for you, and you stepped inside, your cheeks warming at the little gesture.

“Okay, spill. How was your day?” he asked, leaning casually against the counter as you both waited in line.

You fidgeted with the strap of your bag, glancing at him before looking away, your heart racing.

“Um, it was fine. Just… classes and studying. Nothing too exciting, really.” Jaehyun raised an eyebrow, clearly unconvinced.

“Come on, there has to be something interesting. Did you learn anything new?”

You hesitated, feeling a bit shy under his gaze.

“Well, we started a group project in class… and I was kind of nervous about presenting.” Jaehyun nodded, encouraging you with a smile.

“I’m sure you did great. You’re always so prepared. What was the project about?”

As you spoke about the project, your confidence slowly began to build. Jaehyun listened intently, his eyes never leaving yours. The way he focused on you made the words flow more easily, and you found yourself getting lost in the conversation.

“—and then my group members had a million ideas, and I was just trying to keep up,” you laughed, finally feeling a little more comfortable. Jaehyun smiled back, his expression warm.

With each passing moment, your shyness began to melt away, replaced by a sense of connection you hadn’t felt in a while. As you moved to the counter to order, Jaehyun placed his hand on the small of your back, guiding you gently forward. It felt natural, yet electrifying.

“Your turn. What do you want?” he asked, looking at the menu with a playful glint in his eyes.

You bit your lip, trying to suppress a smile. “Um, maybe a caramel macchiato?”

“Great choice,” he said, his voice light. As he ordered for both of you, you couldn’t help but feel grateful for this moment. Jaehyun placed the order for both of you, you turned to him, eager to ask about his day.

“So, how about you? Anything new from the class?”

But just as the words left your lips, Jaehyun’s gaze shifted. He made eye contact with the cashier, and a small smile crept onto his face—one that made your heart sink a little. You followed his gaze and saw Yeri, who was chatting with another customer, her laughter ringing out. She was Jaehyun's friend and you know the both of them shared a lot of things before he met you. She was even the former vocalist of the band.

You felt a familiar knot of insecurity tighten in your stomach. You’d always felt a twinge of jealousy about Jaehyun’s friendship with her, especially when they shared that effortless connection. You tried to shake off the feeling, but it lingered. He turned back to you, his expression shifting from warmth to concern.

“Uh, Jaehyun?” you said, your voice softer than before. “You know, I… I don’t want to interrupt your time with Yeri if you want to say hi.”

“What? No, it’s not like that at all. I was just—”

“It’s fine, she's your friend anyway” you interrupted, forcing a smile that didn’t quite reach your eyes.

“No. That's not what I want. I wanted to spend time with you, not anyone else. I promise.”

But as you glanced back at Yeri, who was now exchanging friendly banter with the next customer, the knot in your stomach tightened further. You couldn’t help but wonder if he’d rather be with her than standing here with you. The doubt flickered in your mind, and you tried to suppress it.

As the bartender placed the drinks on the counter, his gaze shifted back to you, the sincerity in his eyes reassuring you.

“Y/N, you’re not interrupting anything. I wanted to be here with you, not anyone else.”

You felt a warmth at his words but couldn’t shake the feeling that there were parts of his life he hadn’t shared yet.

“Okay,” you said softly, trying to push the unease aside.

His hand brushed against yours for a brief moment. It sent a spark through you, but doubts lingered, hidden beneath the surface. You wanted to believe him, to trust in the connection you shared, even if shadows from the future clouded his mind.

As you both grabbed your coffees and moved to a cosy corner of the café, Jaehyun’s thoughts drifted momentarily back to Yeri, but he quickly redirected his focus to you. You deserved his full attention, and he was determined to keep it that way.

--

Later that day, Jaehyun made his way to the practice room, his mind still buzzing from the coffee date. He found Ten already set up, surrounded by scattered sheets of music and a guitar resting against the wall.

“Jaehyun, you’re here!” Ten exclaimed, looking up with a grin.

“Help me with this new song.”

Jaehyun chuckled, settling into a chair across from him.

“What’s the song about?”

"It's called Lie With You. It's about longing for someone. The lyrics explore the feeling of wanting to be close to someone, to share not just the good moments but also the struggles. It’s like… wanting to escape reality together, even just for a moment.”

Jaehyun understood that feeling as he was facing the situation.

“It’s about those fleeting moments when you wish you could freeze time. It’s a mix of love, heartache, and the desire to be understood completely," Ten continued.

“Here,” Ten said, glancing at Jaehyun, “help me with this chorus. I want it to capture that feeling of wanting to lie down with someone, to just be together without the weight of the world.”

As Ten played, the melody unfolded—soft and haunting, weaving through the air like a gentle breeze. Jaehyun felt himself getting lost in the sound, the emotions resonating with his own experiences. Each note seemed to echo the longing he felt for you, the memories still vivid in his mind. His heart raced as he listened to the lyrics; they painted a picture of intimacy and connection—something he yearned for but felt slipping away. As they collaborated, the song transformed into an anthem of love and loss, reflecting everything Jaehyun struggled to hold on to.

“Let’s make it something people can relate to,” Jaehyun suggested, feeling the urgency of his own emotions at the moment. “Something that speaks to the heart.”

--

Days passed, and Jaehyun and Ten dedicated countless hours to composing the song. It was a truly precious time for Jaehyun—second only to the moments he spent with you.

You made your way to the library, determined to clear your mind and focus on your assignments. With your next class not scheduled for another two hours, you aimed to make the most of your time. Settling into a comfortable spot, you immersed yourself in your work.

As you continued to study, you noticed a familiar figure approaching out of the corner of your eye. There was something about the way he carried himself, the slight hesitation in his steps that hinted at his identity even before you fully registered his face.

As he drew nearer, you lifted your gaze from your work, and there he was—Jaehyun. Recognition sparked instantly, a mix of surprise and curiosity washing over you.

"Jaehyun?" you exclaimed softly, disbelief lacing your voice.

His face broke into a warm smile at the sound of his name.

"Hey there," he greeted, sliding into the empty seat beside you.

Seeing him in the library was a pleasant surprise, and you couldn't help but wonder what had brought him here at this moment.

"I didn't know you had a free period," you chuckled lightly, breaking the ice.

Jaehyun smiled back, his gaze warm and friendly.

"Seems like we have a lot to catch up on then."

Your laughter filled the otherwise quiet library, adding a sense of warmth to the atmosphere.

"So, you're here by yourself?" Jaehyun asked, breaking the silence.

"Yeah, my friends decided to skip class today, so I thought I could use this time for myself."

As you returned to your studies, Jaehyun settled in beside you, sitting quietly without intending to disturb you. You could see him starting to get sleepy, and a small laugh escaped you as he rested his head on the table.

"Sir, you’re not supposed to do this in the library," you teased.

"I know, but I’m so sleepy. Watching you calms me down," he replied, his eyes half-closed.

"Should we go outside or something?" you suggested.

"Let’s just stay here for a moment," he said, slipping his hand into yours under the table, closing his eyes with a content smile.

"Until the librarian kicks us out," he added playfully.

A warm flutter stirred in your stomach at the intimacy of the moment, and you decided to continue studying, feeling both shy and comforted by his presence.

--

As your relationship with Jaehyun flourished, his creative energy also surged. He spent countless hours in the practice room with Ten, diving deep into songwriting sessions with emotions he felt for you. The bond between Ten and Jaehyun was stronger than ever, as they bounced ideas off each other, turning snippets of melodies into full-fledged songs. Ten often teased Jaehyun about his newfound inspiration.

“You’re different these days. It’s like you’ve got a muse or something” he would say, a knowing grin on his face.

Jaehyun would blush, deflecting the comment, but secretly, he knew that you were the reason behind the spark in his music.

Together, they composed several songs, but one in particular began to take shape—an anthem about love and longing, capturing the essence of what Jaehyun was experiencing with you. He poured his heart into the lyrics, weaving in moments from your time together—late-night study sessions where Jaehyun would playfully nudge you, teasing you about your study habits, while you would gently scold him for his tendency to nap instead of focusing on his music, shared laughter at the café, and those quiet walks through the park.

On days when you visited the practice room, Jaehyun would play snippets of the new songs for you.

“What do you think?”

He’d ask, his eyes searching yours for approval. You’d lean in closer, captivated by the sound.

"Well, I really like it, especially the verse where-",

"Y/N', Jaehyun remind you softly it's okay to be honest with a smile.

"Sorry Jaehyun, I think the lyrics were a bit off",

He chuckled at your honesty, finding it adorable. As he moved closer, he glanced at the sheets you were holding, leaning in confidently. The Neo Club was empty that night; he had chosen this moment carefully, knowing his friends were leaving to give you both some privacy.

You could smell his scent from this distance, and the warmth between you was almost noticeable. Your cheeks flushed as you felt the heat radiating from his presence, brushing the back of your hand against your face. Jaehyun laughed at your shyness, leaning in closer, about to kiss you when suddenly, the door swung open.

Doyoung stepped into the club, he looked confused at the both of you as he tried to process what was happening.

“Well, didn’t know you guys were here,” he said casually, setting his guitar down near the door.

Jaehyun’s annoyance was barely concealed. This was supposed to be his moment with you, and Doyoung’s sudden appearance felt like an intrusion. You shifted uncomfortably, feeling a wave of shyness, your cheeks still warm from the almost-kiss. Doyoung’s eyes quickly landed on the sheet music in your hands.

"Is that 'Lie With You'? Mind if I take a look?"

You nodded slightly and handed the music over to him. Doyoung took the sheets gently, his eyes scanning the page as Jaehyun sighed, clearly trying to maintain his composure. The song was deeply personal to him and Ten, something they had poured their hearts into. He didn’t want Doyoung, no matter how talented, meddling with it.

"We’re still working on it," Jaehyun said, his voice tight with frustration.

"Hmm... some of these lines feel a little too heavy. You could lighten it up a bit, give it more flow. That way, it hits harder emotionally," Doyoung suggested, his tone thoughtful.

Jaehyun’s jaw clenched, but he knew Doyoung wasn’t entirely wrong. His natural charm and musical instinct made it hard to stay irritated.

"We don’t need to lighten it," Jaehyun muttered under his breath, though part of him understood the advice.

You smiled nervously, sensing the tension in Jaehyun but knowing that Doyoung only wanted to help. As the night continued, Jaehyun and Doyoung worked together, exchanging ideas. Despite Jaehyun’s initial frustration, it became clear they made a perfect team, their creative energies blending seamlessly.

As Doyoung suggested changes, Jaehyun felt a tight knot in his chest. He hated the idea of anyone else touching something so personal, yet he had to admit that Doyoung's input made the song stronger. He even suspected that Ten might’ve reached out to Doyoung for help since they’d been stuck on this part of the song for a while.

Just then, Jaehyun glanced over at you. You seemed tired, your eyes slightly drooping as you tried to follow the conversation between him and Doyoung. The long day had clearly worn you down, and Jaehyun noticed the way you shifted uncomfortably in your seat, trying to stay awake.

He frowned softly, his protective side kicking in.

“Hey,” he called gently, leaning closer to you. “You look exhausted. You should head home and rest.”

You blinked, trying to shake off the fatigue. “I’m okay, I don’t mind waiting for you.”

“It’s fine, really. I’ll walk you back.”

Jaehyun gave you a small smile, appreciating your dedication but knowing you needed the rest. Doyoung, sensing the moment, glanced between the two of you and nodded in agreement.

“Yeah, Y/N, you should rest. We’ve got this for now.”

You hesitated for a moment but eventually gave in, the exhaustion catching up to you. As Jaehyun helped you gather your things, he couldn’t help but feel a wave of affection for you. Even in your tired state, you had been by his side, supporting him and Ten’s work.

“I’ll text you when we’re done,” Jaehyun promised as he gently placed a hand on the small of your back, guiding you out of the club.

As you walked out into the quiet night, Jaehyun couldn’t stop himself from glancing at you again, grateful for the moments you shared, even in the simplest of ways.

Without warning, Jaehyun stopped in his tracks, gently pulling you closer by the hand. You looked up, confused but intrigued.

“I owe you something,” he said softly, his eyes twinkling.

“What do you—”

Before you could finish, Jaehyun leaned down and pressed a gentle kiss to your lips, catching you by surprise. His touch was soft, lingering just long enough to send warmth rushing through you.

"I love you", he whispered, his forehead resting against yours.

You felt your heart flutter, unable to stop the grin from spreading across your face as you whispered back.

"I love you too".

--

"Doyoung really did great with the lyrics, actually," Ten told Jaehyun as they stepped into the café that evening before he continued.

"I hope you don't have any bad feelings towards him for that. I know how much you worked on that"

Jaehyun sighed, knowing the jealousy he was feeling was childish. It wasn’t about the lyrics or Doyoung’s contribution—it was the way everything was falling into place, just not how he envisioned.

“Do you think we can perform it anytime soon?” Jaehyun asked, trying to shake off the lingering frustration.

“Yeah, it’s good enough. I’ll make one last adjustment tonight.”

As they approached the counter to place their order, Jaehyun's eyes immediately narrowed when he saw Yeri standing behind the cashier. His stomach tightened. He knew Yeri from the future, someone who had stirred complications between him and Y/N, but in this timeline, she wasn’t a problem—yet.

"Oh, hi Yeri", Ten grinned widely.

“Hey, Ten! What can I get you guys?” she asked cheerfully, her smile genuine.

Jaehyun stayed quiet, only nodding, trying not to let his irritation show. He didn’t want to make a scene, especially when Ten enjoyed her company. After placing their orders, they found a quiet table and started conversing about their day. Jaehyun tried to focus on the music, but he couldn’t help but feel uneasy. He wanted to tell Ten so much about the time travel. Though it will only seem like a mad person. Just as their conversation picked up, Yeri suddenly approached their table.

"I have some good news for you guys," Yeri began, excitement clear in her voice.

"The owner's been looking for a band to perform at the café this weekend, and I suggested your band. He’s really interested. So, what do you think? Sound good?"

Ten’s eyes lit up immediately. “That’s perfect! Jaehyun, what do you think?”

Jaehyun glanced at Yeri, still feeling a bit uneasy, but Ten’s excitement was contagious. He forced a smile and nodded.

“Yeah, let’s do it.”

--

Yeri, Ten, and Jaehyun continued chatting about the upcoming gig, Yeri still buzzing with excitement while Ten and Jaehyun discussed the final touches for their performance. The café was warm with the soft hum of conversations and the smell of fresh coffee.

The door swung open just then, and you walked in with your friend, Jimin, after your evening class. You were mid-conversation, talking about the class, unaware of the trio at the corner table.

"I don't know Jimin, collaborating with Doyoung for the festival might not be a good idea", you remarked.

"Why not? He's a really good leader, even my friend Jeno approves it. He can handle the booth, all you need is to commit until the festival"

"To be honest, I don't think Jaehyun will like that idea", you admitted.

“Are you saying you’re scared of hurting your boyfriend’s feelings?”

“Hm, yes. His jealousy can be a bit... intense,” you opened up to Jimin.

"You mean, that Jaehyun?", she said, pointing toward the corner of the café. Your eyes followed her gesture, and your heart skipped a beat.

"Oh gosh, now I'm jealous", you thought to yourself.

Jaehyun, distracted by the conversation, didn’t notice you at first. But as you walked closer, his eyes instinctively found yours. Jimin, sensing the tension, nudged you forward, convinced that you should confront the situation. She clearly didn’t like seeing Jaehyun sitting with Yeri and thought it might hurt you more if left unaddressed.

Yeri, noticing Jaehyun's sudden distraction, glanced over her shoulder and caught sight of you approaching.

"Y/N!", Jaehyun quickly stood up, looking surprised.

He immediately sensed the tension in your expression, and his heart raced. The last thing he wanted was to repeat the mistakes of the past. He was determined to clear things up—something he hadn’t done in the previous timeline.

“Y/N, please listen to me. We were just talking... mostly Ten was doing the talking,” Jaehyun stammered, his nerves getting the best of him. “I was about to call you after class to pick you up—”

He quickly checked his phone to see if he’d missed any messages. “You didn’t text me... but I was going to call.”

"Jaehyun, please sit down. It's okay, really. I’m just here with Jimin. You should enjoy your time with your friends", reaching out for his arms, trying to ease his anxiety.

Jimin, clearly unimpressed, cleared her throat and rolled her eyes in Yeri’s direction. To avoid further awkwardness, you spoke up again, your shyness showing in your voice.

“I just wanted to stop by and say hi,” you said, making brief eye contact with Ten and Yeri. “Enjoy your coffee. Let’s go, Jimin.”

As you and Jimin made your way to the counter to order, you couldn’t help but glance back at Jaehyun. Your eyes met briefly, and despite the tension, a small smile flickered across your lips.

You and Jimin settled at a small table near the window, the warm glow of the café lights casting a comforting ambiance around you. As you sipped your coffee, Jimin leaned in, still buzzing from the earlier encounter.

"I can't believe we walked in on that," she whispered, glancing over her shoulder toward Jaehyun, Yeri, and Ten. "It was like a scene from a drama."

You chuckled, shaking your head. "It’s fine, Jimin. They’re just planning their performance. I trust Jaehyun," you said, though a small knot of discomfort lingered in your chest.

Jimin raised an eyebrow, unconvinced. "Yeah, but did you see the way Yeri was smiling at him? She’s definitely curious about you."

You shifted in your seat, casting a quick glance back at Jaehyun's table. Yeri was leaning in toward him, her expression inquisitive as she chatted with both him and Ten. You knew Jimin was probably right, but you didn't want to dwell on it. Instead, you steered the conversation back to lighter topics, focusing on the upcoming festival plans and your group project. However, the occasional glance toward Jaehyun’s table revealed that things weren’t as relaxed over there.

Meanwhile, at Jaehyun’s table, Yeri’s curiosity was bubbling over. She had noticed the shift in Jaehyun’s manner the moment you walked in, and she wasn’t about to let it slide. Leaning in with a sly smile, she nudged Jaehyun’s arm.

"So, Jaehyun," she began, her voice teasing, "who was that? Your new girlfriend?", Jaehyun’s face flushed slightly, and he avoided Yeri’s eyes, suddenly feeling flustered.

"Uh, that’s Y/N," he mumbled, trying to keep his voice casual, though he couldn’t hide the affection that seeped into his tone.

"Y/N, huh?" Yeri grinned knowingly, exchanging a look with Ten, who was quietly sipping his coffee but clearly amused by the situation. "She’s cute. I thought there was something going on with the way you jumped up when she came in."

Jaehyun sighed, rubbing the back of his neck, feeling like he was caught. "Yeah, we’ve been seeing each other for a while now."

Ten smirked, adding, "Don’t be shy, Jaehyun. You’re usually so smooth. What’s got you so nervous?"

Yeri leaned back in her chair, clearly entertained by Jaehyun’s awkwardness. "You should’ve introduced us properly," she teased. "Now I’m dying to know more about her."

Jaehyun chuckled awkwardly, glancing at you again across the room, where you and Jimin were engaged in conversation. His heart warmed at the sight of you, even though he felt the pressure from Yeri’s teasing.

"Maybe next time," he replied, trying to play it cool.

But Yeri wasn’t about to let it go that easily. She smirked, leaning in once more.

"Sure, but you know, you owe me a proper introduction. She seems important to you."

Jaehyun’s lips curved into a soft smile. "Yeah... she is."

That night, as you and Jimin prepared to leave the café and head back to the dormitory, Jaehyun quickly stood up from his seat, making his way over to you.

“Let me walk you back,” he insisted, his eyes soft but filled with determination.

He glanced at Jimin briefly before turning his attention back to you. You gave him a gentle smile, appreciating his offer but shaking your head.

"It’s okay, Jaehyun. I want to spend some time with Jimin tonight. We have some things to catch up on."

Jaehyun’s brows furrowed slightly, clearly reluctant.

"Are you sure?" he asked, his voice low as if hoping you might change your mind.

You nodded, reaching out to lightly squeeze his hand. "I’ll be fine, I promise. I’ll see you tomorrow."

Still, he didn’t let go of your hand immediately, holding onto it for a moment longer.

"Alright," he finally sighed, though it was clear he wasn’t entirely convinced. "I’ll make it up to you. Tomorrow, we’ll do something special."

A small laugh escaped you as you let go of his hand. "You don’t have to make it up to me, Jaehyun. Just get some rest tonight, okay?"

With one last reluctant glance, Jaehyun nodded.

"Okay," he agreed softly, but his eyes followed you as you and Jimin exited the café, disappearing into the cool evening air.

Jimin, of course, didn’t let the moment pass unnoticed. As the two of you strolled toward the dorms, she teased you with a smirk.

"You’ve got him wrapped around your finger, huh?"

You chuckled, shaking your head. "It’s not like that. He just worries sometimes."

Jimin laughed. "Yeah, well, I’d be worried too if I had to compete with you wanting to hang out with me."

You rolled your eyes but smiled, your thoughts lingering on Jaehyun’s promise as you and Jimin continued walking under the night sky.

--

A few weeks passed, and the days blurred together as Jaehyun, Ten, and Doyoung poured themselves into rehearsals for the gig. Their dedication was admirable, but it left little time for anything else. You had grown accustomed to their late-night practices at the club, often only stopping by to knock on the door just to say goodbye before heading to the dorm.

Jaehyun, in his focus on the performance, had gradually let the memory of time travel slip to the back of his mind, consumed by the present.

But one night, just before the big performance, Jaehyun insisted on spending time with you. He texted you, asking if you could meet him at the club before practice started, and though you knew how busy he was, you agreed.

When you arrived, the club was quiet, an unusual calm settling over the usually bustling space. Jaehyun was sitting on the sofa, one earphone in, waiting for you. As you walked in, he looked up with a soft smile—oh, how much he missed you.

“Come here,” he said, patting the seat next to him. “I want you to hear something.”

You sat down beside him, and he gently handed you the other earphones, getting ready to play the song.

"I’ve been meaning to share this with you. It’s special, and before we perform it for everyone else, I wanted you to hear it first."

You smiled, sensing the significance of the moment as the music began to play. The melody was hauntingly beautiful, filled with raw emotion that pulled you in immediately. As the song progressed, you could feel Jaehyun’s heart poured into every note, every lyric. It wasn’t just a song—it was a reflection of everything he had been holding inside.

When it ended, he looked at you with anticipation, his heart in his eyes.

"So, what do you think?"

Your chest tightened, overwhelmed by the beauty of the song and the intimacy of the moment. You laid your head on his shoulder.

"It’s sad, but… perfect, Jaehyun. Really."

He let out a small, relieved laugh, resting his head against yours.

"I wrote it with you in mind," he admitted softly. "I wanted to create something that captures what we’ve been through, even if it’s just a glimpse of what I feel."

Your heart swelled at his words. You knew this song wasn’t just a performance—it was him sharing a piece of himself with you, something deeply personal before anyone else could hear it. Without realizing it, he gently laid his head in your lap.

"Y/N, let me take a nap for a bit," he murmured.

You knew how hard they had worked, the sleepless nights they spent preparing for this moment, so you simply smiled and let him rest. The two of you stayed like that for a while longer, enjoying the quiet closeness as the night stretched on, the upcoming performance momentarily forgotten.

--

You and Jimin headed to the café, eagerly waiting for Jaehyun’s gig. The atmosphere filled with excitement, the crowd chattering while you found a table near the stage. Jimin was just as excited as you, if not more. She’d invited a few friends too—Jeno and Jaemin, who arrived not long after you did.

"They’re going to kill it tonight. I can feel it!", Jimin said with a grin, nudging you as she sipped her coffee.

You nodded, feeling both nervous and proud for Jaehyun, Ten, and Doyoung. As they took the stage, the café quieted, all eyes on the trio. The lights dimmed, and the first chords of their song filled the room. Jaehyun stood at the center, his gaze scanning the crowd until it landed on you. He gave a small, subtle smile before focusing back on the performance.

From the first note to the last, they nailed every part of the gig. Jaehyun’s voice was rich with emotion, Ten’s melodies carried the songs effortlessly, and Doyoung’s harmonies added a powerful depth. The crowd was captivated, and you couldn’t have been more proud. Jeno and Jaemin were cheering loudly, while Jimin was clapping along, completely caught up in the performance.

By the time the last song ended, the café erupted in applause, and Jaehyun’s eyes sought yours again. You gave him a beaming smile, knowing how much this moment meant to him.

Later that night, after all the congratulations and farewells, Jaehyun insisted on taking you somewhere special. The two of you walked in the quiet evening. You strolled together until you reached the park, the same place where Jaehyun had once time-travelled—though, at the moment, that fact was entirely forgotten by him.

The fountain trickled softly, and the night felt calm and serene. Jaehyun sat down beside you on a bench, his hand reaching for yours as he sighed contentedly.

"I’m so glad you were there tonight," he said, his voice low and warm. "It meant everything to me."

"I wouldn’t have missed it for the world," you replied, leaning against him.

For a moment, the two of you sat in silence, enjoying the stillness of the night. As you admired the fountain's shimmering waters, Jaehyun’s gaze suddenly shifted. His eyes widened, and he squinted into the distance, recognizing a familiar figure.

"Wait here," he said, his tone suddenly serious.

Before you could respond, he took off in the direction of an old man standing a short distance away, gazing at the fountain.

“Hey! Excuse me!” Jaehyun called out, breathless from running. The old man turned slowly, his face illuminated by the moonlight.

“Do you remember me? You told me about the power of music... and things like that," Jaehyun asked, his voice filled with a sense of desperation. The old man studied Jaehyun for a moment before nodding slowly.

“Ah, yes. I see you’ve made it this far.”

Jaehyun’s heart raced as he realized the weight of his wishes.

“I need to understand more. What is happening to me? How long will I be here? I want to be here, please.”

The old man’s expression softened, but there was a hint of sadness in his eyes.

"Every choice has consequences. The memories you hold dear shape who you are. Exchange a good memory with another good memory," he muttered, as if lost in thought.

Jaehyun felt a surge of panic.

"What did you mean? I've already traveled through time. What more do I need to do?"

The old man regarded Jaehyun with a knowing smile, his eyes twinkling with wisdom beyond his years.

"Time travel is a delicate balance, my boy. Every action has a consequence, and every memory holds weight," he replied cryptically.

As the old man’s words sank in, Jaehyun began to realize the price of his journey through time. To maintain the balance, a sacrifice would have to be made. Just then, you approached, curiosity flickering in your eyes.

“Jaehyun, who is this?” you asked, sensing the tension. He hesitated, glancing between you and the old man.

“He… he’s someone I met before. He knows things.” Then, a dawning realization crept over Jaehyun. "Wait... you can see him?"

Tears welled up in your eyes, a hint of fear behind them.

"Yes. Jaehyun, I time-traveled with you," you confessed, your voice trembling.

"What?" Jaehyun's mind raced with disbelief.

"I was confused too at first," you continued, "but I realized it when you knew I’d be jealous of Yeri, even before I admitted it."

Jaehyun's breath hitched, tears filling his own eyes. His heart ached, but clarity struck him as he realized he had to act fast. There were other memories to trade—ones that wouldn’t cost him you.

Turning back to the old man, Jaehyun shakily pulled out a small guitar pick that Ten had given him. His fingers trembled as he held it up.

"I'll..." he began, his voice breaking as sobs escaped him, "I'll trade this. Just please… let him remember the song."

With a heavy heart, Jaehyun made the difficult decision to let go of the memories of producing songs with Ten. It tore him apart, but he knew the memories with you were far too precious to risk. He couldn’t afford to lose how far the two of you had come.

The old man studied the guitar pick, nodding solemnly.

"You have chosen wisely, my boy," he said with a reverent tone. But then his expression darkened slightly as he added, "Nothing is perfect. You cannot fix everything. But what is meant for you will find its way back."

Tears streamed down Jaehyun's face as the weight of his decision settled in. He understood now. Some things would always come at a cost, but he was willing to make that sacrifice to keep what mattered most.

"I understand," he whispered, his voice steadier now, though his heart still ached from what he had to lose.

Then, the old man turned toward you, his gaze softening as he saw the tears streaming down your face. You cried harder than ever, and deep down, you knew why.

Jaehyun, still caught up in his own emotions, looked at you with confusion, unable to understand the depth of your sorrow. He furrowed his brow, stepping closer, but before he could say anything, the old man spoke—his voice low, but filled with a quiet understanding.

"You," he addressed you directly, "you had only one precious memory."

Your heart clenched as you tried to stifle your sobs. Jaehyun’s eyes widened as he turned toward the old man, panic rising in his chest. What did he mean? What precious memory?

The old man continued, his eyes never leaving yours. "And that memory," he paused, "was of Jaehyun."

Jaehyun’s face paled. His breath caught in his throat as realization began to sink in. You had time-travelled too, just like him, and to fix the past, to make things right, you had sacrificed the one memory that meant the most to you—him.

"No... no, that can't be," Jaehyun whispered, shaking his head as if trying to shake off the truth. "Why didn’t you tell me?" His voice broke, his confusion now turning into desperation.

You wiped your tears, your lip trembling. “I… I didn’t want you to know. It was the only way to make sure you were happy.”

Jaehyun’s heart shattered as the weight of your sacrifice hit him. You had traded your memory of him—the very essence of everything you had together—just so he could have a second chance. He felt like the ground had been ripped out from beneath him. He tried to speak but the words wouldn’t come.

The old man watched silently, his eyes full of an ancient sadness, knowing the price of love and sacrifice better than anyone.

Jaehyun, overwhelmed with guilt and heartbreak, grabbed your hand, gripping it tightly as if holding on would make it all better.

“But… you’re my everything. You can’t just forget us—forget me.”

You closed your eyes, the tears still flowing.

"I had no choice, Jaehyun. You were my happy memory."

At that moment, Jaehyun felt utterly powerless. You had sacrificed everything for him, and now he was losing the one thing that had made this journey through time worth it. He couldn't imagine a life where you didn’t remember him, where everything you’d built together had been wiped away.

Jaehyun fell to his knees, still clutching your hand, trying to stop the inevitable.

“Please… there has to be another way.”

But deep down, he knew. You were about to forget him.

The old man said nothing, his expression a mix of understanding and sorrow. As he watched you both, the air around you began to shift, and the memories you cherished started to fade like wisps of smoke, dissolving into the night.

Jaehyun felt the world around him blurring. The laughter you shared, the moments of intimacy, the quiet evenings spent together—all began to slip away, replaced by an overwhelming emptiness. He embraces you tighter, desperate to hold on to you, to the memories you had created.

“No! Please, not like this!” he cried, his voice cracking. But his pleas echoed into silence, the weight of the old man’s words sinking in deeper.

“Y/N,” Jaehyun cupped your face, tears streaming down his cheeks.

You held his hand against your cheeks, staring deeply into his eyes.

"It's okay, Jaehyun. It's going to be okay," you said, giving him one last smile.

"You’ll be okay," you muttered softly.

He cried endlessly, holding you tightly. As the last flicker of your shared memories faded, you felt an overwhelming sense of loss. The love that had once filled your heart was now replaced with a hollow ache. You looked into Jaehyun’s eyes, seeing the pain reflected there, and at that moment, something deep within you whispered that you would always carry a piece of him, even if you couldn’t remember why.

"Y/N, it's me. Jaehyun. Jaehyun ah," he said, taking your hand and placing it on his cheek, searching for recognition in your eyes.

The old man remained a silent witness to the sacrifices made in the name of love. As the memories faded into oblivion, Jaehyun and you were left standing in the void, grasping for something that was slipping away.

And then, just as suddenly, everything went dark.

--

The night was dark, the quiet sinking in as you strolled through the park, seeking respite from the bustling city. Finding a nearby bench, you settled in, closing your eyes to immerse yourself in the surrounding sounds, a tranquil backdrop to your thoughts.

Just as you began to lose yourself in the moment, a soft melody captured your attention, drifting from a nearby café. Intrigued, you followed its enchanting strains until you arrived at a small, dimly lit venue where a talented musician held sway. His voice, akin to honey, wove stories with each note, captivating all who listened.

As the performer sang, you were entranced by the lyrics and the emotions they evoked. The song spoke of longing and desire, resonating deeply within your soul. Entering the café, you took a seat, utterly spellbound by the performance.

"Would you like to order?" the waiter asked, breaking the spell with a smile.

"No, thank you," you replied, shaking your head, though he chuckled in response.

"It's on the house tonight. Are you sure?"

He persisted as you relented, curiosity piqued by the gesture. You shifted your gaze to him, glancing at his name tag.

Jaehyun.

"Alright then, Jaehyun",you said, those words striking him with unexpected emotion.

"I'll have a peach tea," you continued.

As Jaehyun fetched your drink, tears threatened to spill from his eyes. He quickly wiped them away before he could sense it. You sensed the song nearing its end and halted him before he left.

"Sorry, but could you tell me the name of this song?"

"Sure, it's 'Lie With You.' The performer wrote it himself."

"It's a beautiful song."

"Yes, it truly is," he agreed, reminiscing about his time with you.

--⩇⩇:⩇⩇--