#quite sad. in multiple senses of the word

[spotforme]

i've been wondering about that big board ontop of their mirror for who knows how long now and they finally blessed me with a readable frame, i have the first piece of the puzzle. the big text reads "HOLOGRAMS CAN HAVE HEART ATTACKS TOO!" of course he would put up something like that. i'm assuming the pictures on top are some examples of preventative measures one can take, or maybe they're what to do in the event of an emergency. i'd know if only i'd get a better close-up.

then there are those pink slips Arnie puts up, there are multiple, but the one in his bunk reads, and i'm filling in everything i can't see here "YOU DON'T HAVE TO HAVE A DRY SENSE OF HUMOUR TO LIVE HERE BUT IT CERTANLY HELPS!" Rimmer and his weid positive reminders, they must keep him going on some level.

also the letters, are they from his mother? from someone else? doesn't matter much, because the difference between Lister's bunk having a bunch of colourful photographs of a bunch of people with him and Rimmer's bunk only having two worn letters from an unknown sender really shows well the differences in their characters and their approach to other people (i love that kindof set dressing)

btw they did not change any of Rimmer's stuff for Paraller Universe. all of her certificates and 'achievements' (those newspaper clipping on the wall) still read Arnold for some reason. oh what could be the canon explanation for this? this changes the Arlene lore for sure

bet they didn't count on someone obsessing over the set 30 years after this aired did they!?!? could they own up and tell me why Arlene has the swimming certificate of some rando named Arnold

[kitysugar]

pretty best friend ~ park sunghoon x reader

inspired by this request ! ౨ৎ ଓ ⋆˙⊹ [ 성훈 ] ☆ in which sunghoon helps his cute, innocent little best friend out after she asks for some.... advice. and despite knowing that he's a player - you had feelings for him anyways.. but little did you know he feels the same way.

word count ; 4.7k

best friend! player! sunghoon x nerd! reader , friends to lovers , blowjob , oral , fingering , hand job , very slight hints at ; corruption ; manipulation . curious reader , size kink , mutual feelings , HEAD PUSHER HOON YES YES YES , cum eating , not proof read

"sungie" you squeal , the feeling of sunghoons fingers squeezing your waist results in a loud laugh to sound from the back of your throat. sunghoons deep, raspy chuckles make a deep heat pool in the pit of your stomach , a guilty feeling lingering on your conscience for thinking of him in the ways you do. the way his hands feel on your skin makes you feel light headed - whether it be from the tickling, or the fact that he was touching you at all - the answer was unknown , and quite frankly; you didn't care enough to know.

as you lay beneath him, your legs attempt to kick his body away from yours - your hands find their way to his broad shoulders in order to push him back. but as you lay under him squealing his name - everything around you begins to feel rapidly hot , and sunghoon feels the exact same way.

the way his big hands swallow the entirety of your waist , your little legs desperately fighting against him, and the way his name spills past your lips.

all he wants to do is kiss them to shut you up, fuck you raw right there, make you scream his name, begging for him to grant you release.

suddenly, the memory of different girls begins to flash through his mind ; all the different times he's had multiple women screeching his name , begging him to fuck them faster - harder . but as of right now, the only woman he can truly adore to the fullest extent was already writhing underneath him.... but not in the ways he wants.

sunghoon comes back to his senses once he hears you whisperly call his name, a perfect little string of music that flows right into his ears that snaps him out of his lustful daze.

"s-sungie...?" you question, your round, doe eyes looking up at him through your eyelashes. sunghoon can feel himself tighten in his jeans, making him uncomfortable.

"how many girls have you had under you like this..." the question slips from your lips without consciousness , making you instantly shut your mouth , regret beginning to pool in your mind.

sunghoons face instantly changes , his eyes holding the utmost sincerity... sadness at the mention of the other women.

"... 'm sorry.." you whisper, your eyes darting away from him in order to look at something - anything else but him. sunghoon sighs and sits up, you following in pursuit. the two of you awkwardly sit next to eachother, the silence lingering in the air above you.

sunghoon chuckles before speaking, making you look at him in confusion.

"well, if im honest... too many to count really. i don't remember a good handful of them.." he smirks slightly at you, making a deep blush rise to your cheeks.

"so... you're experienced??" you question, making sunghoon tongue the inside of his cheek. he stretches one arm around you in order to rest on the couch, his legs spreading apart... inviting.

"yeah, i guess you can say i am... now; how about we get back to studying... you have a test coming up, dont you?" you respond with a head nod, making the man next to you grab a textbook from off the coffee table and handing it to you.

your glasses are perched on the tip of your nose , so you push them up.

you were a freshman in college, and the transition from highschool to university life was definitely kicking your ass. of course, you had always been keen to school life; you enjoyed it really. you loved learning new things and carrying around cute school supplies, it made you feel good about yourself whenever you learned something new... made you feel smart... so you kept going on with your love for learning into your early college years.

sunghoon, on the otherhand, was a couple years older than you; a senior in college. although he a couple years older, that didn't stop the two of you from being inseparable from an early age.

around an hour later, you hear sunghoon groan from the other side of the couch, pushing his glasses up and over his head.

"i'm not understanding, y/n... why on earth would you major in something so difficult... i don't even understand this and i've been in college longer than you have.” his messy hair being pushed back makes him look ten times more attractive.

"i dunno... i guess i just wanted a challenge." you shrug your shoulders, making the man across from you deadpan.

"whatever, lets just take a break and come back to it in a bit" he says, grabbing the book and pen from out of your hands and setting them back down on the coffee table. as sunghoon reaches over, you take note of his appearance; rolled up sleeves that stop right above his elbow, disheveled hair, tired eyes, and full lips.

as sunghoon turns to you, a deep shade of pink arises on your cheeks. you look away from him, trying not to seem awkward.

"so, y/n.. tell me; have you had sex yet?" you nearly scream at his words, choking on your own spit as soon as they leave his mouth. you turn and face him ominously, your face completely red and your eyes as wide as the moon.

"what on earth... why are you asking me this?" you squeal, hitting his bicep. sunghoon chuckles at your flustered state, his heart swelling in his chest at your actions.

"i'm just asking, come on you're in college... you had to have lost your v-card by now" he taunts, but quickly loses all sort of amusement laced in his expression once you turn to face your lap, playing with your fingers.

"well... there is this guy i like... but we havent done anything yet. im too scared. i dont know what im doing..." you look up into his eyes through your eyelashes, not turning your head to face him. sunghoon leans back into the cushions of the couch, spreading his arms to dangle on both sides of the back of the piece of furniture. sunghoon raises his eyebrows, urging you to continue.

"i- i was.. uhm... wondering if-- i don't know... you could possibly teach me..?" your voice was small... but sunghoon heard it as clear as day. now it was his turn to choke on his spit, completely flustered by your question.

he quickly gets his act together, smirking at your shy demeanor. you feel helpless under his gaze, quickly regretting your question.

"you don't have to, it was a dumb question im sor-"

"what would you like me to teach you, love?" he asks, his eyes never leaving your smaller figure. you raise your head completely, your hands still fidgeting with your fingers in your lap. you ponder for a moment, debating on how to answer his question before speaking once more.

"i want... i want to know how to suck.. uhm,, god this is so dumb.." you sadly chuckle to yourself with a shake of your head, breaking eye contact. sunghoon eyes you for a moment, instantly knowing what you wish to know.

"you wanna know how to suck cock?" you nod your head slowly, stunned at his straightforwardness. sunghoon eyes you for a moment more before lifting one of his hands up, motioning with his index finger for you to come to him; so you do.

"come here" your feet patter on the cool hardwood floor, stopping to stand in front of sunghoons spread legs. the man chuckles from below you, his hands coming in contact with the back of your thighs right below your ass.

"are you sure you wanna do this" you instantly nod your head without a second thought, wanting nothing more than for sunghoon to teach you how to pleasure a man,,,

the very one who sits before you , actually

at your words, he instantly brings you to sit on his lap, your knees meeting with the plush cushioning of the couch on either side of his hips. your face is mere centimeters away from his, your breaths fanning one another’s face.

"first... you don't want to just jump straight into it. both men and women need some sort of foreplay.. and the easiest version of that is kissing; a makeout session really." the two of you stare at eachother for a moment, one of sunghoons hands comes up to push a stray hair away from your face and behind your ear. your heart is beating out of your chest, your head feeling light and he hasnt even touched you yet.

"can i kiss you?" sunghoon asks, which makes your stomach erupt in butterflies. you shakingly exhale before nodding your head without saying anything. the man above you looks down at your lips before trailing them back up towards your wide eyes - eyeballing you shamelessly.

sunghoon slowly brings your lips to his own, the heat pooling in the pit of your abdomen deepening significantly the moment his mouth collides with yours softly. your lips are full and glossy, but is quickly smeared thanks to sunghoon.

after a long second, the two of you pull away to breathe... looking at eachother fully, longingly. the tension in the room as thick as ice is quickly cut, sunghoons hand cupping your cheek brings your face down frantically - your guys' lips meeting eachother once more... but this time its much different.

you feel both of his hands move to the slope of your waist, pulling you into him further - your back arching and your body curling into his front.

your hands slide up from his shoulders in order to wrap around his neck, your fingers lacing in with his dark hair. your breasts press up against his chest, and your lips move perfectly in sync with his.

the sounds of your heavy breathing fill the room along with sloppy lip smacking, but neither of you complain. sunghoons hands move your hips down onto his lap, the bulge quickly tightening in his jeans. you gasp when you feel his hardening length press right up against your clothed pussy, your fingers tightening in his hair cause him to groan into the cavern of your wet mouth.

you shiver under his touch, his fingers feather light as you curl into him deeper. every inch of your body yerns for the man above you, making a whimper escape your lips.

the kiss quickly deescalates as you pull away from sunghoons lips in order for air - but not before he pecks your lips a couple times. he leans back into the couch, the two of you exchanging aching, yearnful glances. your heavy breathing matches his - your chests' rising and falling in unison.

"sunghoon..." your eyes are half lidded as you speak, and it begins to drive sunghoon up the wall. he admires the adorable look on your face , everything about you is perfect and it frustrates him beyond belief. although he is experienced, he feels like a teenage boy having his first makeout session.

"yeah baby?" he calls out to you breathlessly, making your pussy clench. you dont break eye contact as you speak, making a shiver run up sunghoons spine.

"can i suck your cock... please..?" you ask nicely, in an almost pleading tone. it takes every ounce of restraint in order to stop himself from bending you over the couch and stuffing you full of his cum, fucking it deeper and deeper inside you - permanently marking you as his.

his woman.

"of course you can doll, go right ahead" he leans further back into the couch, getting a full view of you perched cutely in his lap - your skirt riding up your thighs and your zip-up hoodie falling off one of your shoulders.

you slowly get off the mans lap, a prominent bulge showing in his jeans. your mouth waters at the sight, excitement flowing through your veins. as you sink to your knees, you maintain eyecontact with the man above you, your pussy clenching around nothing at his lustful gaze.

your hands work at his zipper, pulling his pants down past his ankles. the tent in his boxers grows exponentially bigger, and you can tell that he's fucking huge. you stop to stare at him, eyeballing the outline of his dick through his underwear.

on instinct, you reach a hand out in order to palm him through the flimsy fabric of his boxers - making sunghoon hiss from above you. your eyes don't look away from his length, not for a second as you jerk him off slightly. a prominent wet patch begins to form on the light color of his underwear, making a gasp leave your lips.

"did i... did i make you.. already..?" you gawk up at him, making a laugh bubble up from his chest. you tilt your head to the side in question, and sunghoon finds it so fucking adorable at the realization of how innocent you actually are.

"no baby... thats just precum, you really don't know anything huh? how can you be so smart yet naive at the same time?" he taunts jokingly, mimicking your actions and tilting his head to the side.

you deadpan at the man, an unentertained look spreading across your face. without looking away, you bring your fingers to the tip of his dick, wrapping your hands around his head and squeezing slightly, making more precum stain his boxers.

sunghoon hisses, letting out a string of loud curses at your actions. you smile to yourself slightly, finding it funny just how fast you can make him fall apart in your hands.

you gasp at the feeling of one of his hands in your hair, yanking your head back slightly in order to make your eyes meet with his. every ounce of playfulness leaves your body as the older man stares into your eyes , a threatening look lingering written on his face

"don't be a brat. understand?" you pout your lips, but nod your head anyways. sunghoon leans down in order to kiss the tip of your nose before letting you go gently.

"good girl" he compliments, making your cheeks flush for the nth time that evening. your hands reach up to the waistline of his boxers, slowly pulling them down his legs and past his ankles. sunghoons pretty cock springs free, shooting up to slap his abdomen, his bulbous tip hitting right at his belly button.

fat, pearly drops of precum leak from his tip and down his shaft, making your eyes widen. you were right; he is huge. you gawk at the length, making his ego swell.

"never seen a dick before, huh?" you shake your head no, at least not in person.. one of your hands reaching up in order to softly grab the base of his cock in your hands. sunghoon observes your actions intently, his eyes burning holes into your skull. your hand lightly wraps around his cock, squeezing his length slightly. it takes you a moment; but you begin to pump him. you watch as more pearly beads of precum leak out of his tip, finding the sight mesmerizing.

after pumping his dick for a little bit, you bring your lips closer to the tip of his shaft, sticking your tongue out slightly in order to kitten lick the slit of his head.

sunghoon has had his dick sucked many times before... but with the way you keep looking up at him through his eyelashes - searching for any sort of validation that you're doing a good job is making him feel like a virgin again.

only you could have this sort of effect on him. he could just about reach down his throat and rip his heart out and give it to you on a silver platter.

you kitten lick his tip over and over - getting used to the salty taste of his warm seed before you take the head of his dick into your mouth completely. the warmth that your velvety, wet mouth provides makes him shudder under your gaze, his eyes rolling back into his skull ever so slightly. you attempt to take his cock deeper into your mouth, but the odd taste of his salty precum makes you gag around his length - you quickly pull off of him and cough , not used to the feeling of him being in your throat in the slightest.

sunghoon finds your actions cute - his ego expanding ever so slightly.

"god... its so- its so much.." you say in heavy breaths, trying to compose yourself. sunghoon looks down at you, his eyes holding admiration.

"its okay baby, take your time okay? this is normal. you've never sucked anybody off before. its alright, go nice and slow.." his voice trails off as you take his head back into your mouth, attempting to get used to his taste even more. you hollow your cheeks, your tongue swirling around his tip as you begin to bob your head up and down slightly - almost as if you were sucking on the tip of a lolipop.

every time you pull yourself off of his dick, your tongue runs over the slit of his tip, gathering his precum on your tongue. you look up at sunghoon - your doe eyes making direct eye contact with his as you lick down his entire length, running your tongue down the underside of his cock.

"fuck just like that.." he moans at the feeling of your tongue and the sinful sight of your eyes and actions - he feels like he could bust right then and there all over your face and he would enjoy it to the fullest.

"s-so fucking good... good girl" you're making it hard to believe you've never done this, but it's the truth. you take his tip into your mouth once more, your head moving up and down as you begin to suck him off again. one of your hands moves towards the base of his dick, gripping it in your hand as you begin to jerk off the remaining length you haven't fit into your mouth yet.

you hear another moan sound from just above you, making your confidence sky rocket. your hand and mouth move around him, the combined slick of your saliva and his precum making the perfect lubricant in order to have him shaking in your hold.

"god fucking... fuck. just like that... doin' such a good job.." at the sound of his praise, you start to take his length deeper down your throat, your eyes watering at the weird feeling. you breathe in deeply through your nose, adjusting to the newfound feeling. you swallow around him, making sunghoon buck his hips into your face on accident. you gag around him, but decide to continue on. your head bobs faster up and down sunghoons cock, your hand that was previously jerking him off coming down to grip his balls in your hands - fondling and playing with them.

"oh my fucking god, takin' my cock so well.." he praises. the dampness in your eyes falls freely down your warm, flushed cheeks but you could care less. as you breathe in through your nose, you swallow around him again, making sure to keep your cheeks hollowed while your tongue runs along the vein that trails down on the underside of his cock.

one of sunghoons hands comes down to wrap itself in your hair, his fingers tugging on your colored locks. at first, he just keeps his hand in your hair - but as you keep using your pretty little mouth in all the ways that you do ; he begins to push your head up and down .

a hum leaves your throat, which in turn sends vibrations throughout sunghoons entire body.

"s-shit-" he curses, the grip in your hair tightening significantly before he forces you to take his dick deeper, his bulbous tip hitting the back of your throat. you attempt to cough around his length, your nose coming down to press snugly against his pelvis.

you swallow around him again, more tears escaping your eyes as you try your best not to disappoint him. sunghoon just about falls apart from under you; his hips sputtering against your face in a sloppy grinding rhythm that has you gripping his thighs to ground yourself.

after a moment, sunghoon loosens his hold on you, letting you come up for air.

but the way you keep bobbing your head up and down on his cock takes him by surprise.

"s-so warm.. god you're perfect" your mouth comes up to suck on his tip once more, and before you can even look up to see his reaction - you feel his cock twitch in your mouth

"im- im gonna cum fuck... where do you want me baby?" you've heard of girls swallowing their boyfriends cum before, so it cant be so bad right? you keep your glossy lips wrapped around his tip as you suck down a little rougher, your hand coming down to play with his balls once more. you hear a raspy 'fuck' before you feel his salty, warm cum shoot into your mouth.

you instantly regret your decision, the taste being unfamiliar and weird has you gagging and shaking your head - but your ego tells you to continue, so you do.

you take his load into your mouth before detaching from his head, his dick beginning to soften ever so slightly. sunghoon looks down at you before he raises his hand to grab your face lightly inbetween his fingers. your lips part slightly, making a couple drops of his cum drip down your chin.

"god you're perfect... you wanna spit it out love?" you ponder for a second, but ultimately decide on swallowing his load. your face contorts into a sour expression, showing your distaste. sunghoon coos at you, a soft laugh sounding from his mouth.

"you're so fucking adorable, you didn't have to swallow sweetheart..." he pouts, making you smile slightly.

"i wanted to, i thought that was normal..... it tasted- weird." you giggle, and sunghoon leans down to kiss your forehead as he cups your cheek.

"now... how about i show you something else too, huh?" you shoot him a questioning look before he lifts you up onto the cough, laying you down so your back is flush against the cushions of the couch. you look up at sunghoon and wrap your arms around his shoulders before he leans down to kiss you, taking your lips in his.

you feel his hands sneak down to your waist, pinning your body down against the couch. his lips move in a steady, perfect rhythm with his that has you quietly whimpering into his mouth. the man detaches from your lips only to start trailing wet kisses down the skin of your neck.

your eyes flutter closed at the feeling of him sucking deep purple hickeys into your skin, desperate moans filling the air around you.

"s-sung..." he hums at the sound of his name leaving your lips, acknowledging you quietly. the man then trails his kisses down your body tauntingly slow before he reaches the waistband of your little skirt.

sunghoon looks up at you through his eyebrows before kissing your pelvis bone through the fabric of your skirt. your chest heaves up and down in short, frantic breaths once you feel his cold hands slide up the sides of your thighs , trailing them upwards and under your skirt.

"can i take this off?" you rapidly blink, questioning his motives.

"hoon... w-wait i thought... you were- i thought..." he cocks his eyebrows up, making your wetness pool in your panties.

"will you let me show you what it feels like to have your pussy ate, my love? want hoonie to make you feel good?" you ponder for a second, hesitating on the thought.

"what if.. what if i taste bad or i can't finish,,, or-"

"baby, i don't care. let me taste this pretty pussy, yeah? wanna let sungie fuck you with his tongue? split you apart?" you whimper at his vulgar words, your eyes fluttering closed while you shake your head yes.

at the confirmation, he slides the fabric of your skirt down and passed your ankles, throwing it down on the ground to be forgotten. sunghoon refocuses his attention to the prominent wet patch littering the pink lacy underwear.

"god, you're so wet already and i haven't even touched you" he teases you through half lidded eyes, the cold pad of his finger coming in contact with your clothed clit. you whine at his actions, the butterflies in your stomach making your head cloud over with nothing but the dirty, vile thoughts of everything you want sunghoon to do to you.

the way he gently starts to massage shapes into your bundle of nerves has you quietly speaking his name, your hands coming down to bunch his hair inbetween your fingers.

sunghoon pushes your panties to the side, his fingers slipping through your wet folds. a hiss sounds from just below your hips, the feeling of your slick dripping through his fingers is indescribable.

"such a pretty pussy" he eyeballs you, making you feel shy underneath his lingering gaze.

your clit twitches repeatedly thanks to the gentle friction he creates, your back arching off the couch in order to help your hips grind into his hand.

after a moment, you feel sunghoon plunge a long finger into your pussy, your mouth slacking open in a perfect O shape as moans and whimpers dance off your tongue in a beautiful chant, all for sunghoon and sunghoon alone.

"how does it feel, angel face?" his breath fans your pussy as he speaks, and all coherent thoughts fall out of your brain as quickly as they come.

"s-s' good,,- feels s' good please" you squeak, your thighs spreading apart even further to grant him more access.

"so tight, perfect little virgin pussy all spread out just for me" his free hand comes down to peel your panties further to the side, his tongue darting out in order to lick a stripe up your wet slit, gathering your juices on his tongue.

"tastes so sweet, my sweetest girl" your face flushes at his words, but your hips grind up into his face once he wraps his lips around your clit in order to suck down on the bundle of nerves.

"oh my god" you squeal at the newfound feeling, your heart beating out of your chest so rapidly, you're convinced it could burst at any given moment.

"sucking in my finger so perfectly, i don't think you can take any more baby" you shake your head no, but the prominent pout on his lips taunts you into thinking you can take just a little more.

sunghoon adds another finger swiftly into your hole, stretching you even more with his his slender fingers. you hiss at the stretch, trying your hardest to adjust to the newfound sensation that radiates throughout your body in ripples. the way sunghoons tongue laps at your heat as if he were desperately searching for the last sip of water drives you insane - he cant help himself , you're just too fucking sweet.

"i feel weird, hoonie i- i cant , feels s' weird" your eyes squeeze shut as white-hot pleasure shoots through your veins . your fingers tug on his hair harsly and your hips buck up into his mouth, everything begins to feel hot and overstimulating, a thin layer of sweat forming on the skin of your forehead.

"let it happen sweet, you gonna cum for me?" he asks, even though he already has his answer the moment his fingers find the sweetspot that adorns your velvety, tight walls.

"please, please please please a-ah" his teeth biting down on your clit send you into overdrive - your abdomen tightens as the string in your tummy snaps - juices squirting all over the lower half of sunghoons face as your pussy squeezes his digits tightly.

"there you go, look so so pretty when you're makin' a mess all over me... my pretty little cum slut, hmm" his eyes widen as you cream around his fingers, white gooey slick oozing from your hole where his fingers fuck you apart sloppily.

"sun-sungie fuck" your hips and thighs jolt in his hold, and you can feel yourself come crashing down from your high at lightening speed. as your body relaxes into sunghoon, he pulls his fingers out of your fluttering hole.

"god you're absolutely perfect"

[fishnapple]

Things people secretly find attractive about you

This reading is about the hidden thoughts of people, about what they secretly find attractive about you. This is entirely subjective, some of these can seem questionable or hard to understand but the human psyche is complex, the root of attraction can lie in unexpected places.

This is a general reading meant for multiple people. Take only what resonates and leave out the rest.

Your feedback is much appreciated. If you find the reading resonated with you, leave a comment, I’d love to know 🎐

About me | Masterpost Book a reading with me - KO-FI (→ personal reading)

ONE

Some of the people who find you attractive might have a saviour mentality and a serious personality, they gravitate towards someone who they think is in trouble, sad about life or is a little impractical. I'm not saying that you have these traits, but those people seem to pick up some of your behaviours as signs of these traits.

Some people perceive you as outspoken, you have no trouble saying what's on your mind, your words are direct and to the point, they carry force in them. This can seem aggressive to them. But this is not the kind of being attracted to something strong but more like being attracted to the hidden weakness behind that strong exterior. They think that behind your assertive demeanour is someone insecure, someone who hasn't found their footing in the world yet. They are attracted to that thought, the thought that you're trying to put up a front, trying to be brave. This makes them curious and want to see the insecurities that you're hiding, and to do what? They would want to guide you, they think you need someone to act as a teacher to you, someone you can look up to, and they want to be that person.

Your voice is also attractive to some ears, your choice of words is extensive and have a poetic touch to it. Or you don't talk much and some people find that attractive, they feel that you leave space for others to talk and express and you're not judgmental about it. Some will like having deep philosophical discussions with you. You also have different and unique hobbies and whenever you talk about them, you seem so animated and excited, an intense passion can be felt, and that makes people gravitate towards you like moth to flame.

Some people also feel that you can be quite naive or impractical sometimes, they find this endearing, like seeing someone being protected from the harsh reality of this world. They might project a part of themselves on you. Some of them could have experienced a difficult childhood that didn't give much space for them to be carefree or feel protected. So they look at you and see these traits that remind them of a distant longing for a better childhood.

The idea of being in a relationship with you will seem easy and natural. It's easy to imagine themselves taking care of you and having your attention to themselves. Your attention and affection are elusive and people want to catch a hold of these. Some will want to quickly jump in a connection with you, it would get intense very fast and burn quickly, attraction at first sight is very likely, this is not just about romantic attraction but also includes platonic attraction.

TWO

I think people would immediately feel a sense of power coming from you, much like how our skin warming up when we are around a fire. This kind of powerful energy is dynamic, all-encompassing, intense, generous and bountiful. This attraction that people have towards you is not that secretive, some might feel reluctant to show it or talk about it openly because they feel respectful towards you, they can feel a little intimidated and will just silently watch you, occasionally drop a few compliments when they are feeling brave enough. You know how sometimes people see someone so amazing and awesome but keep their distance and not express appreciation for them, for fear of stating the obvious, they would think that this person probably gets a lot of compliments everyday already so they won't be bothered with them? Some people are like that towards you.

Some people will quietly admire your daring and sometimes reckless spirit, the word daredevil comes to mind, with it comes the attitude of an adventurer. You are so brave and explosive, always ready to explore new horizons, always know how to have fun. Timid and quiet people might secretly find these traits so attractive about you but also feel that you are a little dangerous or too forceful for them. It's not physical violence but it's the speed of you doing things, the energy you put in every action, they feel like they can't quite keep up with that. But it's sexy to them. It's intense and it can bring both order and chaos to wherever you go. This energy is like electricity, it can evoke wild reactions in people.

You smile and laugh a lot? People find your smile and the sound of your laughter attractive, it's warm and contagious. You don't just laugh a lot, you also make people laugh a lot, they like your humour, it's carefree, jovial, sometimes it comes as exaggerated boasting, sometimes it's ridiculous, sometimes it's so humble. It shows a healthy ego with enough boundaries and respect. They can see your humbleness as a sign of strength, you're so confident in yourself and so strong that you allow yourself to be soft and be a fool to elevate people's spirits.

Others will be secretly attracted to your intelligence and wisdom. You seem like someone whom they can look up to and learn from. Younger people really like you, they see you as a role model, someone who knows their own path and is dedicated to it. Some will assume you're really successful and have it all. They wonder if you have an inner calling, a spiritual belief that guides your life, because you seem to abide to a certain rules, some strict regimes and they're curious about it.

THREE

The word "wholesome" just immediately came to my mind. You have a very stable aura that makes people think you have your life all figured out. They might even think that your life is so different from them, so trouble-free, peaceful or exciting, anything but similar to theirs. But that doesn't alienate you from people, they actually like this about you. Like how cat videos restore faith in the world for some people. When they see your life, they get inspired to strive to do good with their life.

Your energy is both fast and slow, steady but active. You have no trouble standing your ground, putting down your foot. You can be very cautious and deliberate when investing in something, whether with your energy, your time, your resources, your emotions. But when you see the chance, the most effective path opening, you don't hesitate to take the action, almost like you have an angel or a wise counsellor behind your back who will give you encouragement to go forward. You are not a reckless gambler but a wise one.

Some people feel very safe and secure when they are around you, you feel like a teddy bear, a shelter to them. Because you are generous when you've decided that someone is worthy of your effort. You don't do things half-heartedly, your determination and devotion are very attractive in people's eyes. This can also mean that some people are quite dependent on you, emotionally, and they hate to admit it, I sense that some of them are quite proud and independent, so the notion that they're dependent on someone does not sit well with them.

You also have an amicable energy, people can sense that you won't get angry easily, you don't take out your ego and wave it at their faces. You talk only when it's necessary and don't demand attention. You seem like a humble person who doesn't complain when things get hard and just focus on solving the problem without expecting applause and praises. People who have a more dominant and fiery personality might find this attractive, as opposites attract. Some can view this as you can be ordered and are obedient, which boosts their ego a lot.

While some people wonder, if you truly are that humble or you're just good at hiding your desires and drives, they might think that you have something to hide, you're not comfortable showing your true self and just go along with what others deem good and nice. Would there be another person who is wild, ambitious and fierce behind your gentle image? Some might want to poke, to push you to see a more aggressive reaction from you. Another kind of people can view this energy as you being detached and aloof, like you don't have the time or energy to care. They secretly find this "unavailability" attractive, it shows you have standards and act accordingly to your own rules and set of beliefs. You seem to elicit a wide variety of opinions from people. If all of them were to have a meeting and voice their thoughts about you, it would make a long list. But they all will have to agree that you are unshakable from your resolution once you set your eyes on a goal.

FOUR

This group is a little similar to the previous group, both have strong earth energy with a hidden element. But your group is more youthful, the energy, at first glance, is softer and more playful. The similarity of the two groups is that people perceive you to be in alignment with your soul's desire. You seem to be living a full life. People look at you and feel the liveliness, the joy of living. Like a child beginning to step out to the world, who hasn't been disillusioned by the ugliness of reality yet. People secretly think you are naive and innocent, a little erratic or unpredictable, but you're not lost, you know where you are going, with a purpose, like a ship heading towards the lighthouse. You make people feel like they should act benevolent to you, because you deserve that treatment. To the people who already have children, you sometimes remind them of their own child, subconsciously. They would want to protect you and see you bloom and prosper.

You have an oblivious attitude towards worldly achievements that people secretly wish they can adopt it themselves. You focus on your self development but you don't put too much weight into being conventionally successful like having a good career, earning lots of money, being famous, almost like you're tired of that. Maybe you're well-known to a certainly extent in a community and some people can be a little envious of that, they may wonder how can you garner attention so easily like that, even when you don't do much, aren't active or just keep to yourself, but fame still finds you.

Your appearance shows that you're taking good care of yourself. You have a neat and simple style that people like. It suits your perceived manner, mild and stable. You notice little details and create a pleasant atmosphere and environment around you. Some people who work with you find these traits really attractive, they could develop a quiet crush for you.

You could have some small obsessions that people who are observant enough will notice. They intuitively sense that you are trying to establish a certain order in your life, a certain routine to balance out the inner emotional turmoil. It's like a storm is raging outside so you try to focus on organising the house to feel safe and distract yourself from the storm. This will attract people, some people are just really attracted to emotional depth and complexity. The more contradicting a person act, hinting a hidden landscape underneath, the more they are attracted.

You can be quite serious when it come to learning, this is where your determination shows itself the most. Teaching you is a delight, but can also come with heavy pressure, you don't want superficial knowledge, you want to go to the depth of things, analysing then committing the information into your memory. This, in turn, can also make you an excellent teacher, but you can be a little stern, surprisingly. You can seem young, but in some areas, you are so serious and committed, you seem like a wise old soul.

FIVE

I pulled only 3 Tarot cards for the previous groups, but your group demanded another one, apparently so many people have so many different opinions about you.

Your energy seems so red and fiery, like a burning fire. There are lots of moths flocking to your flame. They know they would "die", but they just can't help it. I can see that you have a lot of admirers, the majority of them are secret admirers though. There's something about your energy that makes people turn inward and become a lot more quiet and introverted than they normally are. They're contented to just keep a distance and admire you from a far. Have you ever see the process of an artist making their artwork? They are so focused in their own world, they emit an intense aura that keep the audience quiet and holding their breath, the people around them don't dare to disturb that creative process. Some people feel like that with you. You have a creative energy that can touch people, it's both very vulnerable but also strong, something that just is, without external shielding or masking.

People view you as someone who loves fearlessly, you have a reverence for love that borders on a religious feeling. It makes them question themselves, how can a human live so confidently like that, can they live like that too? is their life has a different meaning that they haven't thought of before? You are an inspiration to people, your flame is contagious, it spreads wherever it goes.

Those that are brave enough to approach you will like to talk and debate with you, you have a way to show your views clearly without eclipsing others. They admire your courage to defend your worldview and advocate for good courses. You might have a knack for rallying people, persuading people. People can easily be swept along your passionate energy.

Some believe that you have what it takes to be successful in this world. You have the talents, you have the will, and luck seems to follow you with each step you take. The phrase "Fortune favours the bold" can't be anymore apt than this. You have a balanced feminine and masculine energy that can attract people of different genders. To the world, when you need to accomplish something, you have no problem with exerting will power and strategies, to those close to you, you also hold a nurturing space for them. Some might perceive you as a good parental figure. Some will automatically assume that you're successful and rich, or you have someone backing you up. I will be honest, they're attracted to your abundance, the more lack they feel, the more attracted they are to you.

SIX

I wouldn't say you are shy or quiet, but you're reserved and just want to mind your own business. Your energy feels a little awkward and some people can notice that. Again, it's not exactly because of shyness, but more like a reluctance to come out of your own world. You might be a home-body or someone who prefer their private space a lot. If you can, you just want to stay in one place and live quietly, contentedly, but alas, you have to go out and interact with the world, and I do see some life circumstances that would force you to be out, to be more visible to the world. If you are a leader or someone with authority in the workplace, you will be a reluctant leader, but a good one nevertheless. This makes you seem more down to earth and relatable to many people.

You're resistant to disturbances and chaos. You want simple things, things that are essential for a good and tranquil life. A fresh meal, a walk on the beach, tea time with friends maybe enough to make you happy and feel fulfilled, also a heavy pocket full of money to prepare for rainy days. You're risk adverse, that's why you're always well prepared, stable and can shoulder lots of burdens. People can't help but feel peaceful and safe around you, they feel protected. That is, if they managed to get in your inner circle. You're selective of whom you interact and associate with. People like this pickiness of yours, it makes them feel privileged to be selected. You're picky but you're not stingy or haughty, everyone can still see that you're friendly and open enough.

As much as you always try to stay out of chaos, chaos seems to like you and follow you around. Some bizarre and unexpected events might happen that are totally out of your control. You life is somehow attached to invisible strings that pull and lead you to some pretty interesting experiences. Usually these experiences can bring positive changes into your life, if you're open to them. Those who witness these events will find them oddly fascinating. Magic seems to be real around you. You may have a strong manifesting power, whether you're conscious of them or not. You can literally create your reality through your power of imagination and words. So be mindful of what you are thinking and imagining.

[bosbas]

Chapter 1: I said, "dancin' is a dangerous game"

series masterlist previous part || next part

pairing: anthony bridgerton x fem!reader WC: 2.5k words

Warnings: period-typical gender roles, lowkey why do i ship daphne and y/n....

Summary: At her wit's end after Anthony's multiple attempts to scare away her suitors, Daphne employs her best friend's help to keep her brother distracted while she tries to find a husband. It's a foolproof plan, except it ends up working a little too well. (or, a Bridgerton version of The Taming of the Shrew/10 things I hate about you)

May 13, 1812 - You were in Hyde Park less than ten minutes before you saw Daphne Bridgerton's figure out of the corner of your eye. Delighted that she'd joined you earlier than expected, you waved her over.

"Hello, Daph," you greeted cheerfully, scooting over so your best friend could sit beside you on the bench. "I didn't think I'd see you for a few hours, given how many gentlemen asked you to dance last night. Did none of them call?"

Daphne groaned, a scowl set deep on her face, as she took a piece of bread from your basket and broke it into chunks to feed the ducks.

"Don't remind me. Most of them called, actually," she responded. "If only Anthony had let me have three seconds with them I might have been able to discern whether or not I was actually interested. He barged into the sunroom and promptly kicked everyone out. There was not a single suitor left in the room by the time he'd finished!"

You snorted. "Ah, so the overbearing eldest brother is once again to blame."

"Isn't he always?" she responded, too annoyed to match the lightness in your tone.

You just smiled to yourself and fed the ducks silently, knowing Daphne well enough to hide your smile from her, given that she was more than likely fuming at Anthony's constant meddling. You knew he meant well, but he was known to go a bit overboard at times. Well, most times. Especially when it came to Daphne's courtships.

"Anthony's the biggest rake in Mayfair, anyway. I don't know exactly what moral high ground he thinks he's standing on but it's certainly not as sturdy as he assumes," continued Daphne, still upset over that morning's happenings.

"Is it really that bad, Daph?" you said in an attempt to console her. "At least you're not getting hordes of unpleasant men at your doorstep every day. And you know the kinds of men that frequent the ton aren't always the kind you'd want to spend your afternoons with."

"I'm not getting any men at my doorstep! That's the problem!" exclaimed Daphne, exasperated. "I know you might not share the same desires as me, but I would eventually like to get married and have a family."

"I want to find a husband, too," you insisted, your tone bordering on defensive. "I just don't particularly feel bothered to look for one during my first season."

Daphne sobered immediately, coming out of her annoyance toward her brother as she could sense you were upset. "I didn't mean it like that, I swear," she insisted, placing a hand on your shoulder and looking into your eyes. "It was just-"

"I understand," you smiled at her, placing your hand over hers. "I just don't have the same urgency as you do, on account of my father having absolutely no stake in my marital status. No stake in anything about me at all, actually."

It would be a sad sentiment if you weren't used to it. You were an only child, and your mother had died after getting ill when you were only five years old. Your father, of course, was quite busy with the land he managed, and thus most of your upbringing had just been you and your governess. And the Bridgertons, of course.

You had met Daphne when she was eight and you were seven, and the two of you had gotten along splendidly since then. Since you had no real family of your own, bar your absent father, you spent copious amounts of time at the Bridgerton residence at Daphne's insistence. You now found yourself to be a semi-permanent fixture in their house, feeling just as home there as you did at your father's home.

This proximity to the Bridgertons had made you intimately familiar with Anthony's overprotective demeanor. Ever since you and Daphne were young, Anthony had gone out of his way to make sure that his siblings were cared for. Sometimes that included you, too. But unfortunately, he could take it too far sometimes.

"Did you like anyone last night, at least? Your dress was quite magnificent and I know I'm not the only one who noticed," you winked at Daphne.

She hummed thoughtfully. "I don't entirely know. I don't think one dance is enough to know whether I truly like someone," she responded, slumping down on the bench.

"Especially not when Anthony cuts the dance short halfway through," you laughed, recalling the eldest Bridgerton's attempts to thwart Daphne's search for a husband.

But your comment did nothing to lighten the mood. Instead, it seemed to make your friend even more irritated.

"It's my second year out in society! I still don't have a husband. Not even close to it, apparently," continued Daphne, aggressively tossing bits of bread into the pond.

"Well, you have to marry eventually. Anthony can't keep you away from every man for the rest of your life!" you argued.

But this did little to quell Daphne's annoyance. "He's certainly trying," she muttered.

"We can ship him off to the West Indies for the season," you joked. "Surely he won't be able to interrupt your suitors from halfway across the globe."

Suddenly, Daphne raised her eyebrows, looking at you with a devious smile.

"I was only joking! We can't actually ship him away," you laughed. "Besides, how would the ladies of the ton ever survive without the most desirable bachelor who is always just out of reach?"

Daphne snorted, amused at your dig at Anthony. "No, no, we don't have to ship him away," she said. "But you are correct in saying that I need time away from him to fully explore potential matches."

You hummed in agreement, imagining how much easier life would be for Daphne if her older brother simply... let her be. "Is he going on a hunting trip soon?" you said hopefully.

Your best friend shook her head, still smiling at you like she was plotting something.

"What is it?" you pressed, laughing at her expression.

"Can I ask you a favor?" she said, an expectant look in her eyes.

“Yes, I’ll kill Anthony for you. I’ve only been waiting for you to ask,” you joked.

“No,” Daphne laughed. “I’m serious.”

“Go on then,” you nodded.

“Could you ask him to dance at tomorrow’s ball?”

“Me? Ask him? Are you out of your mind?” you sputtered. You had never danced with Anthony at a ball, and you couldn't fathom the first time you did so being after you were the one to ask him.

“Y/N, please. I can’t just rely on forlorn glances across the ballroom to secure suitors. I need to actually speak with them, and I won’t be able to if Anthony keeps... hovering.”

Granted, hovering was a very generous word for what Anthony was really doing. But still, you looked at her, uncertainty in your eyes. You weren’t particularly keen on asking Anthony to dance, knowing he was famously opposed to marriage at this point in his life. Yes, you had grown up around him, but that didn’t mean he was interested in you at all, and you didn’t want to face that rejection if you could avoid it.

“Don’t give me that look! I promise it’ll work,” cried Daphne, desperate. “Just tell him you feel like dancing but don’t want to give another man the wrong impression since it’s only your first season and you’re still biding your time. Most of which is true.”

She made a good point. You didn’t want the hordes of men that seemed to flock to Daphne just yet. And would one dance really hurt that much?

---

The music in the ballroom pleasantly surrounded you as you stood next to Violet. Daphne had left to dance with Lord Wilson, a bachelor of very distinguished background who seemed to be hanging onto every word your best friend said.

Just as you turned to Violet to comment on how well-suited the pair looked, Anthony stormed over to where you were standing.

"It's unbelievable that she's even giving him the time of day," he said lowly, looking wholly unimpressed by the dance happening a few feet in front of him.

You could feel Anthony growing tense beside you as the seconds ticked by, and you bit the inside of your cheek to keep from laughing. Three seconds of his sister speaking with a man and he was ready to explode already? He was worse than you thought.

You saw Daphne lean back as she laughed at something the gentleman said, and you knew you had to act fast before Anthony intervened.

“Oh, the music is wonderful tonight! Anthony, would you care for a dance?”

He tore his gaze away from his sister and looked at you, perplexed.

“Are you asking me to dance?”

“I believe I am, Anthony,” you said.

He scoffed, not quite believing you. “That is not very proper of you, Lady L/N.”

“And you are a great authority on propriety, I presume?" you said, a playful edge to your voice. "Given your… adventures as a rake, surely you have a better idea of what is proper than I do.”

Anthony choked at your bold choice of words, not used to people calling him out so publicly. “Y/N! Why do you want to dance with me then, if I'm such a rake?”

You rolled your eyes. “I just enjoy the music and want to dance. And I don’t want to give any other men the wrong impression,” you recited exactly what Daphne had told you to say.

He nodded reluctantly and took your hand. “Very well. One dance, then. I don’t want anyone getting the wrong impression of me either.”

This was the last time you ever did anything for Daphne. God, how difficult could one man be?

But all of your annoyance faded away once he placed his hand on your hip and spun you around. This was rather nice, you found yourself thinking. You hadn't properly danced at a ball yet, and you couldn't help but think that you'd missed out on a rather enjoyable activity.

The dance was going along quite smoothly, and you and Anthony seemed to be melting together, no longer two individuals but instead moving more like one entity. You were especially enjoying whenever his grip shifted slightly and his hand ran across the small of your back. To be truthful, you were simply having fun.

That is until you felt Anthony shifting you across the dance floor so you could get nearer to Daphne and the gentleman she was dancing with. Feeling Anthony's shoulders tense underneath your gingerly placed hands, you looked up at him.

Looking into his eyes, you raised your eyebrows. "She's fine, you know. You don't have to watch over her every second of every ball."

Anthony rolled his eyes, dismissing your comment. "Of course I do. She's my sister! I have to take care of her. I would never forgive myself if anything happened to her or if she ended up betrothed to a dolt."

"Anthony," you softened your tone. "It's quite alright. It's not all up to you. You've got an entire family to keep her safe. And me, of course."

You could feel his muscles relax under your hands. "Thank you," he breathed out. "I know all of that to be true. I just worry about her. And about you! But luckily there aren't many suitors of yours to scare off."

"Oh," you said, your voice squeakier than you intended. "Thank you?" you questioned. You weren't quite sure how to take his comment.

"No!" he rushed out, immediately realizing what his words sounded like. "I didn't mean it like that. Daphne had just mentioned that you're not as interested in finding someone right now since it's your first season. And I hadn't really seen you dance with anyone at one of these balls before. And-"

"It's no trouble, Anthony," you smiled, giggling at how flustered he'd gotten. "I appreciate the concern nonetheless."

He shook his head, still not believing that he'd been so rude toward you. As much as you were a familiar face around his home, he couldn't quite tease you the way he did Daphne or any of his other sisters, and he was dreadfully embarrassed that he had made you upset, even if just for a moment.

"If you ever want to dance again, just come to me, understood?" he said, his voice turning serious. "I don't need another one of you to worry about."

You could barely contain your laughter as the music came to an end. "Yes, Anthony," you said dutifully, smiling at how silly he was being.

Looking over at Daphne, you were pleased to see that everything had gone to plan and she'd had the chance to talk to Lord Wilson the entire time you'd been with her brother. It was a relief that she'd finally gotten a normal courting experience.

Before Anthony could reach her and wrench her away from her suitor, Daphne rushed over to you, grabbing your arm excitedly.

"Shall we take a turn about the ballroom?" she suggested, leaving you no room to protest as she led you away from her mother and brother.

You laughed at her excitement, glad that your best friend was finally enjoying herself.

"Thank you so much, Y/N, truly," she gushed, squeezing your arm affectionately. "That was absolutely incredible. It's the longest time I've been able to spend with a potential match without Anthony hanging over my shoulder."

"I'm happy to do it," you said amusedly. "He was that lovely, then?"

"Oh, absolutely not," she shook her head. "Lord Wilson was dreadfully boring. But at least now I know! And I don't have to pine over him or wonder what he would be like. I know for certain I'm not interested, and I can focus on finding my true love match."

"That's wonderful, Daph," you laughed. You truly held so much affection for her. It was endearing to see her so excited over spending time with a man she didn't even like.

Suddenly, Daphne slowed her pace. Turning you around, she held both of your hands and took a deep breath. "Yes, it was. Which is why I must ask you to dance with Anthony tomorrow night as well."

"What do you mean? Ask him to dance again? I thought this was only for tonight," you sounded unconvinced. Asking her brother to dance one time had already been enough of a hassle, but having to pretend to need him to dance with you once more was looking like an insurmountable challenge.

"Please, Y/N," she begged. "It's the only way I'll find a husband that isn't someone like Nigel Berbrooke," she added, whispering the last part.

It was true, Anthony seemed to have impossibly high standards that only the most unpleasant bachelor in Mayfair seemed to be able to meet. If you could do anything to protect Daphne from that unpleasant fate, you would do it.

"I suppose I could try tomorrow night. Though I can't promise he'll want to dance with me again. Anthony seemed quite reluctant tonight," you conceded.

"Nonsense," said Daphne, rolling her eyes. "Anthony loves you dearly, I can't imagine he'd ever turn you down."

"Whatever you say," you responded, unconvinced but unwilling to dampen your best friend's chipper mood. Besides, you had a wonderful time with Anthony tonight. How could another dance possibly go wrong?

—

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You have dealt with situations not turning out the way you wanted them to despite heavily investing into them. These situations in fact, made you feel very naive and taken advantage of. Ugh I just heard “a woman’s loyalty is tested when the man has nothing and a man’s loyalty is tested when he has everything.” I also suddenly got a vision of a TikTok that I saw a while ago. The man in the video was saying that if a woman stays with him at the lowest point of his life, he’d leave her when he gets to a high point because she clearly doesn’t respect herself 💀. It doesn’t necessarily have to do with a man or boy but it could have been a similar situation. You invested a lot into someone or possibly even multiple people and you were incredibly generous. The value was being provided only one way i.e. only you were the one bringing ANYTHING into the connection but you were the one being treated as though you didn’t have any value, as though you didn’t bring anything valuable into the connection or this person’s life. It definitely could have been an experience with multiple people for some of you. I was earlier hearing ‘without me’ by Halsey in my head and now I’m hearing that song, I’m not sure about the title I’ve only heard it through reels and TikTok. It goes something like “It’s not your fault I ruin everything and it’s not your fault I can’t be what you need.” This is honestly very sad, this person or people used to rely on you when they were sad but when they were enjoying life and had happy moments, they didn’t really share those with you, they didn’t spend those with you. It’s like when they experienced really good and happy moments, they just disappeared, and despite everything that you were offering them, they wanted a ‘happily ever after’ with other people. They used to take what you had to offer and use your resources to their benefit but they didn’t want you, they didn’t offer you anything of value, they didn’t even truly appreciate your value and only used it.

There definitely was this feeling of insecurity because why didn’t they see your value and treat it as such despite you doing, and offering so much? It was just a really bad investment on your part because all you were doing was wasting your time and energy by depleting your time, energy, and resources on an ungrateful person. I really wanted to use the b-word just now but I stopped myself. I’m feeling angry on your behalf here. You did everything with a very pure and affectionate heart. When you were doing and giving anything at all, you were being genuine with it. It was a very innocent kind of love that you were extending yourself with. You were sensitive to their needs and almost psychically picked up on things in regard to them, and even if you didn’t, you actively tried to because that’s just how pure hearted you were and their stinginess… gosh. They didn’t even try to invest in you at all, did they? You seem to have questioned your value and worth back then. Due to how you were investing into the connection with a sense of innocence, you were wounded like a child is. Let me explain it to you, kids have not seen enough of the world so when they get scolded or punished by their parents, it’s easy for them to question themself and believe that they must’ve done something wrong. They also forgive the trespassers again and again because that’s just how pure kids tend to be but whatever kids experience during their childhood sticks with them on a very deep level and is inevitably going to affect them as adults. You experienced a similar experience back then. It hit your inner child quite heavily. “How long could we be a sad song, till we were too far gone to bring back to life. I gave you all my best me’s, my endless empathy and all I did was bleed as I tried to be the bravest soldier. Fighting in only your army, front lines don’t you ignore me. I’m the best thing in this party. You’re losing me and I wouldn’t marry me either, a pathological people pleaser who only wanted you to see her.”

That’s ‘you’re losing me’ by Taylor Swift. I keep on hearing the part that goes “my heart won’t start anymore, my heart won’t start anymore.” I feel like you genuinely cannot bring yourself to feel anything for this person or these people anymore because when you were, they were abusing it. While I was writing ‘abusing’, I mistakenly typed ‘anus’ and that describes them pretty well :D. Despite having experienced all of this, you haven’t hardened. In fact, you’ve softened more. The more pain that you had to experience, undergo and heal from, the more pure hearted, innocent, loving and childlike you’ve gotten. Somehow, your inner child has healed and feels more comfortable expressing themself after everything you’ve experienced. There’s also an acceptance of your own contradictions here. You’re quite misunderstood and have always been. I just heard “I was a mature child so now I’m a childish woman.” You’ve always been mature yet childish. Some of you are incredibly mature on the inside but might be very childlike in the way you live and express yourself externally while it may be the other way around for the rest of you. Also, you have likely embodied both of these sides at different points of your life. There could have been a point when you wanted people to take you seriously because you were very mature on the inside and another point when you wished you could express yourself in a lighter, softer, and more playful manner because you were very sensitive and soft on the inside but on the inside, you ended up expressing yourself as more serious. Having embodied both of these, you are aware that others will criticise and misunderstand you either way, and that you won’t be happy with yourself either if you don’t accept your own contradictions and aren’t comfortable with being misunderstood so now, you don’t really care about whether someone misunderstands you.

“Sometimes I can’t even understand those perceptions, it feels unfair at times but the misunderstandings that make up the countless versions of me. All of them are ‘me’ in the end.” I feel like most of you are perceived as childish and are in fact very pure at heart but having been taken advantage of has caused you to develop a cautious approach and not commit to situations recklessly, and that’s a strength of yours. You also do not really give too much importance to a happy ending anymore. You don’t seek belonging and joy from others anymore, and are fine keeping to yourself and are very careful with the situations, and people that you invest in. The thing is, you’re not exactly closed off. You’re still open, pure hearted, loving and affectionate but it’s just that you’re finally more impatient. You can now leave situations as easily as you entered them if the other person doesn’t seem as invested. You know that you deserve a pure, loving and affectionate connection that is innocent, playful and genuine where you’re always chosen, and can always choose them and share a lot of intimacy with the other person - friend, lover, whatever. So when you don’t see things going to that direction, you don’t mind putting an end to things. You’re not willing to settle for anything except the most genuine and pure form of love, and connection because you know that you can provide it. You want to be treated as softly as you treat people and have them stick with you through thick, and thin with proper investment and to adore you, and value you affectionately and genuinely. You are unwilling to accept anything less than that. Having experienced whatever you experienced, you’re aware that you have a lot to offer but that giving more does not equal to receiving more so you don’t try as hard anymore. You’re still the same, you still try to extend yourself generously and provide value to the other person wholeheartedly but even now, you notice one sidedness, and it doesn’t bother you because you choose to either leave entirely and not invest any further or just pull away, and are not committed to trying and investing anymore. You are fine with getting away from people now.

You are alright with people not seeing your value and missing the opportunity to be in your close circle. You just don’t invest heavily into situations for a long time anymore. You try initially because you’re naturally a giver and are incredibly generous but when you feel like you’re not receiving the same, you don’t even question your worth or think about “why?”, you just let them. Also, this generosity of yours is not a method of finding belonging. It kind of is but it is more about how you feel about yourself rather than how others see you. You want to be kind and generous because you just naturally are a giver, and you find a sense of comfort in how much you do for the world, how much value you provide and how much good you put out into the world even if you don’t have anywhere you find belonging, and joy, even if you don’t have those personal connections. Instead of chasing a ‘happily ever after’ and joy, and fulfilment through external sources and connections, you chase purity of spirit, genuineness and generosity. There’s this mantra coming through but I’m not sure how it will resonate. The following includes mention of the hindu god ‘Shiva’ but even if you’re christian or muslim, or any other religion. I need you to take the message and try to interpret it rather than shunning it completely just because you don’t believe in the god or religion. Let me give you a little piece of advice before we move onto the mantra, if you find anything from other religions or concepts that you don’t follow, believe in or understand but it’s something that resonates with you, could help you going forward and just help you lead a better life, take it. The mantra goes “om tryambakam yajaamahe, sugandhim pushti vardhanam, urvaarukamiva bandhanam, mrityur mukshiya mamritaat.” It translates to “om, we worship the three eyed one (lord shiva), who is fragrant, increasing the nourishment (spiritually). From these many bondages (of samsara aka worldly cycles) similar to cucumbers (tied to their creepers). May I be liberated from death (attachment to perishable things), so that I’m not separated from the perception of immortality.”

I feel like many of you have already reached a point in which you understand that attachments are illusionary. If you haven’t yet, you will. You care about your soul and the truth of it - the purity, essence and nourishment of it more than you care about worldly cycles, and things that are perishable i.e. attachments which is why when you aren’t receiving love, don’t have personal connections or are misunderstood, even if it bothers you, it doesn’t. Your soul is whole and immortal, and so is love and joy, and it’s also ever present as long as one can maintain their soul and its true essence so you are just focused on that. Religions and spirituality both put an emphasis on love, and purity and I don’t mean purity as in not being allowed to enter temples during your periods, etc. but instead that they put an emphasis on remaining loving, always leading with love and keeping the heart as light as a feather. You are doing that and you’re spiritually aligned. Obviously with the hurt that you’ve faced, you sometimes may feel heavy or have felt heavy in the past but you have a loving spirit that is still pure at its core and you maintain it with utmost reverence, and that’s your strength. I was earlier getting the quote “do you know how much anger it took to be this gentle?” And now, I’m getting the bridge of ‘solo’ by Jennie coming through. “After the relationship, romance and emotions there’s breakup, tears, regret, and longing. I like being alone because I should be true to myself. Like the flowing wind, like the stars above the clouds. I want to go faraway, I want to shine brightly.” That’s the energy that you seem to possess, you know what you offer and deserve now, and you let go of any attachments that make you feel less than. If you aren’t here yet, you can be. All the best 💞. You’re doing really well. When it comes to your wounds, you are a stubborn one. You’re really persistent and determined to make things work, and are so busy doing so that you don’t notice when the other person has already given up.

You put in work diligently from the start to the end with consistency which is why it hurts more when they give up because you put so much effort into it. You also have long term intentions or even if you don’t, you put in work as though you do because you naturally are long term oriented and you maintain loyalty consistently without a single slip on your part so when the other person gives up, you feel really betrayed and hurt. Lifelong connections are beautiful because they require work and both parties not wanting to give up. You are willing to make things work by putting your all into whatever it is that you want to succeed because of your long term oriented approach. You don’t just give up without trying, you don’t give up without a fight, you can’t because you just value it so much and want it in the long run so the awareness that when someone wants something in the long run, wants someone on the long run, they won’t just run away when things get hard and they have to put effort in is something that wounds you because people have been too easy to give up in the past. You seem to have dealt with a lack of loyalty from others too and what is upsetting is that you were loyal to them. What seems to have happened is that you met someone (possibly even multiple people for some of you) when they were going through a time of discontentment, stagnation, apathy, isolation, boredom, yearning, etc. and you were present for them consistently but when they got better, they left you behind while you were still putting in work and trying, and they didn’t explicitly tell you that they had given up right away. You fell victim to the classic method of being wounded until you couldn’t try anymore. The wounds could have come from their carelessness, negligence, lack of gratitude or acknowledgement of all that you had done and been for them, or well all of the above.

In fact, for some of you, they could have been wounding you actively by treating you as if you were a burden and talking to you in ways that scarred you. In many cases, it could have been both. Whether their approach was passive, active or both, it was equally bad and you didn’t deserve that. You simply just knew that love and connections were hard work, and were willing to put that in. You knew that things aren’t always easy but you still tried until you absolutely couldn’t anymore. Once you finally gave up, you had to consistently put in work into your own betterment in order to heal the wounds that were inflicted on you back then. You’re showing strength even when I’m trying to tap more into your wounds. Despite how wounded you were, you persisted with courage. You learned from your previous failure and wounds, and endured the pain and managed to get better eventually. I feel like at some point, you tried to maintain strong routines in order to get better and it worked wonders for you. You gained clarity on your past, present and future as well as a desire to be present, pleasant and proud. One thing is for sure, you started wanting to focus on the present moment and make the most out of it. You released your emotions and saw where change was needed, and created those changes. You left the past behind you and grew emotionally to the point of feeling almost enlightened. Now, you’re self aware, focused, content, grateful for what you already have, try to be present, accept yourself and situations as they are, and know your responsibilities and try to carry them out properly. Also, you reflect to learn but try to be and are present. The journey to get here wasn’t an easy one, the path was really rocky and rough with twists, and turns but you still made it. Pat yourself on the back, you’re doing so well. Thank you so much for reading. I hope that the reading resonated and that it provided you with the answers, and guidance that you wanted and needed. Much love and take care 💋.

⊹ ! ೀ Pile 2 ꒱

Your strength is that you’re a protector and provider, and your wound is that people either don’t see it, take it for granted or are intimidated by it. Also, a very interesting thing that was happening when I was shuffling for you was that I wanted to channel ‘strengths and wounds’ but I kept on messing up and saying ‘strengths and weaknesses’. I feel like it was because your wounds have caused you to feel really weak or have created a weakness within you in some way. Don’t worry, we’ll look into it properly so that you can heal these parts of you and reclaim your power. I just heard that audio “they gonna hate me regardless, that’s why I do what I do.” Also, you’re more of a man than most men are 😭. You’re naturally a protector and provider, and I’m picking up on a lot of passion from you including an emphasis on sexual intimacy. Currently if you’re single, this can simply manifest as feeling horny frequently or/and masturbating a lot (or well just craving that orgasm even if you’re unable to touch yourself) but you’re definitely very passionate in romantic relationships, likely physically affectionate in other ways outside of sexual intimacy as well. You’re friendly and charismatic, and approach others with a fairly soft yet a bold and almost flirty demeanour. I feel like you’re this way with your same sex friends more than anyone else. You have a strong aura and it is because you possess a lot of integrity. ‘Substance over form’ is the kind of person that you are and that’s your strength. You’re really solid on the inside possessing courage, generosity, principles, ethics, a sense of responsibility, maturity, passion, loyalty, so on and so forth. You have turned out to be a strong person with a well rounded and strongly grounded character despite everything that you’ve undergone instead of letting it turn you bitter, and resentful. I’m hearing ‘easy on me’ by Adele. “Go easy on me baby, I was still a child didn’t get the chance to feel the world around me. I had no time to choose what I chose to do. So go easy on me.”

“There ain’t no room for things to change when we are both so deeply stuck in our ways, you can’t deny how hard I’ve tried. I changed who I was to put you both first but now I give up.” Some of you could have childhood trauma - endless sacrifice for your parents while some of you didn’t have parents and did everything to please your guardian(s), and the rest of you dealt with bullying or aggression from others and the ones who don’t relate to any of the above could have lost someone (possibly multiple people) and they could have been acting very egotistically, making you feel weak but it was not exactly your loss even if it may have felt like it at the time. Some of you may have hit the lottery and dealt with all of the above 😍. You could have also lost someone who you sacrificed a lot for. I just got the word ‘everyone’ and earlier at the beginning of the reading I had received the word ‘burnt’. Did you at some point feel like you lost everything and were burnt by everyone? You may have also felt as though you sacrificed a lot, too much of yourself for others in the past. “So you can love me, hate me, you will never be, never be, never be me. Try me, I’ll break free, you will never be, never be, never be me.” The song is literally titled ‘rebel heart’, I feel like back then despite any feeling of weakness and despite surrendering for the sake of peace, and feeling as though you lost, you knew that you hadn’t. You were rebelling from within and not egoistically but by channelling all your inner strength. You’re really confident in yourself now. I’m trying to dig up your past but you’re showing me how great you are in the present. You know that no one can ever be you. “I’ve tasted being the bigger person, I’ve also tasted matching energy. I recommend no contact.” You value your peace more than anything. You are ethical, reliable, long term oriented and seek excitement, and passion in long term matters rather than by seeking fleeting thrill. In fact, the more safe, stable and grounded a connection is, the more passion, excitement and joy you experience.

You do not feel any desire to wander or be unfaithful, your passion is reserved for just your significant other and your significant only. Like, you don’t even get tempted 💀. For example, if you’ve been in a relationship with someone for years, you’d rather try to experience new sorts of passion and excitement with them rather than get connected with someone new, and ruin something beautiful that you already have going and even if that’s not possible in grand ways just the fact that they’re loyal, and that you share a stable, safe and grounded connection is enough for you to be able to find passion, joy and excitement in the littlest of moments. You don’t get tempted or attracted to others. Also, you watch your character because of who you are as a person and who you want to be rather than to impress anyone. You may be someone who tries to avoid wandering eyes even when you’re single and just really try to watch your character in every way that you can because you are, and want to be a certain way. You’re a really well rounded person - you seek peaceful resolution and if you don’t find that, you seek peace even if it is by yourself, you don’t mind compromising, and have in fact, sacrificed majorly in the past. You know how to make amends with situations by now and you also have a side within you that’s like “I am me, you are you. If you do me dirty, fuck you” but your ethical peace seeking side overrides this. You’re loyal and try to maintain a strong character for yourself rather than for impressions, and are passionate as well. Also, you’re very romantic and care deeply, and genuinely about your partner. You want teeth rottingly sweet romance i.e. the shoulder kisses, climbing up the fences to get into some forbidden property, candlelight dinner, watching fireworks together and you going “so pretty” while looking at the different designs in the sky while they look at you and repeat your words, basically the whole nine yards. You’re also highly capable of it. You’re willing to do anything and everything for your partner as long as it doesn’t go against your morals.

I wonder if many of you are elder daughters or something because there’s so much about sacrifice, maturity and provision. I don’t mean to be a misandrist but I don’t think that I’ve ever met a man this well rounded and with such a strong character. You could have always sacrificed and done so much for your family, provided so much to them, and just been so mature and responsible from such a young age that that’s just who you are now. I wouldn’t be surprised if you already are or will provide financially for your family in the future. “I knew you, leaving like a father, running like water.” It doesn’t mean that your father or any parent left you (though it could be) but that you didn’t feel safe and stable with them so you have become a stable, and reliable individual to feel safe within yourself and to find a partner who provides the same qualities to you. Looking at your wounds, you feel like people let you go too easily. They often chose other people too. Oh my god, I just started hearing ‘the other woman’ by Lana Del Rey. It seems to have been a pattern for you. You were in contact with them in a very consistent manner so it could have been a friend who was using you as a placeholder for a romantic relationship until they found someone to commit to 💀. You are very diligent and have basic human decency so when someone is in your life, even if it is not a situation with commitment involved, you do whatever you can for them and are very present so when you were not fully claimed but not fully let go of, and had them let you go after finding a romantic relationship, you felt really manipulated. By this point, you don’t really question your worth anymore but back then, you wondered if you were unworthy of being chosen and committed to. For those of you who do not resonate with this, when it was time for people to make choices, their loyalties seemed to lie elsewhere. Even the closest connections that you had didn’t live up to their potential and in fact, you felt deceived.

“How long could we be a sad song till we were too far gone to bring back to life I gave you all my best me’s, my endless empathy and all I did was bleed as I tried to be the bravest soldier. Fighting in only your army, front lines don’t you ignore me, I’m the best thing in this party (you’re losing me) and I wouldn’t marry me either, a pathological people pleaser who only wanted you to see her, and I’m fading thinking ‘do something babe, say something. Lose something babe, risk something. Choose something babe, I’ve got nothing to believe unless you’re choosing me.’” “I can’t find a pulse, my heart won’t start anymore for you cause you’re losing me.” “My heart won’t start anymore, my heart won’t start anymore.” You feel as though you’ve never been able to develop and share deep intimacy, and love with someone that is pure and whole, and where you choose each other again and again. I just heard “she has other friends that she likes better”, you’ve just felt as though everyone chose and enjoyed other peoples company more, and that you were let go of so easily as though you were worthless. “If you feel too abandoned by others, it’s because you’ve abandoned yourself” ofcourse, it’s okay to feel bad about being abandoned and used. ‘Enough for you’ by Olivia Rodrigo is coming through. “Stupid, emotional, obsessive little me. I knew from the start this is exactly how you’d leave. You found someone more exciting, the next second you were gone and you left me there crying, wondering what I did wrong and you always say I’m never satisfied but I don’t think that’s true cause all I ever wanted was to be enough. Don’t you think I loved you too much to be used and discarded? Don’t you think I loved you too much to think I deserve nothing? So don’t tell me you’re sorry boy, feel sorry for yourself cause someday I’ll be everything to somebody else and they’ll think that I’m so exciting, and you’ll be the one who’s crying. You always say I’m never satisfied but I don’t think that’s true, you say I’m never satisfied but that’s not me, it’s you cause all I ever wanted was to be enough and I don’t think anything could ever be enough for you. No, nothing’s enough for you.”

You felt as though you abandoned yourself and didn’t have any boundaries or standards just because you wanted to be chosen, and loved back then and you’ve forgiven yourself for that, and grown into your power immensely by strengthening your character and I’m so incredibly proud of you but the shame, guilt, regret, and pain that you experienced back then was on another level. You felt as though you failed to maintain loyalty to yourself and choose yourself. There was this sense of having lost yourself due to a desire to be chosen mixed with a feeling of inferiority. You felt inferior and powerless in the connection or well, connections but even after they ended, you felt inferior and powerless, in fact, now that you could see things more clearly, you felt more inferior, powerless and ashamed of yourself. You lacked direction back then and were misdirecting your energy into trying to receive love, and be chosen by acting inferior and slowly started believing it yourself because others treated you like such when you could have been improving yourself, your skills and your life instead. You felt like you betrayed yourself. The song ‘I’ll never fall in love again’ by Dionne Warwick is coming through. “What do you get when you fall in love? A guy with a pin to burst your bubble. That’s what you get for all your trouble. I’ll never fall in love again. I’ll never fall in love again. What do you get when you kiss a guy? You get enough germs to catch pneumonia, after you do, he’ll never phone ya. I’ll never fall in love again. Don’t you know that I’ll never fall in love again? Don’t tell me what it’s all about cause I’ve been there and I’m glad I’m out. Out of those chains, those chains that bind you. That is why I’m here to remind you. What do you get when you fall in love? You only get lies and pain and sorrow.”

You’re a deeply romantic person but due to how genuine you are, how much you offer and all the deception that you’ve faced. You are more focused on your daily routines, money, career, work and study. You might also have a wound regarding skills. You want to develop skills and you know you have it in you but you just haven’t been able to, you just aren’t being able to, you’re being told to keep going consistently. You’re probably rolling your eyes externally or internally at what I just wrote because it’s not like you haven’t tried to develop these skills consistently because you have but that no matter how much you have tried, you just haven’t been able to but you’re still being encouraged to keep going. Having experienced all that you’ve experienced, you’ve become very self and character focused. You care a lot about other people’s character as well as your own. You have high standards now and until you meet someone who matches them close to perfectly, you are not interested in any sort of romance. You really do want to find this person though because you have so much love to give and genuinely want to experience the soft mushy gushy romantic, and passionate kind of romance. You want to experience a soft romcom movie and ‘fifty shades of grey’ kind of romance at the same time with just one person for the rest of your life but it is very important for you to be able to respect, admire and rely on that person. Passion is very important to you in romance and life in general. Due to how you’ve had to take on really responsible roles throughout your life and always hold this sense of responsibility, and duty within you, and how sacrificing and resolution seeking you can be despite a very hot, and strong fire within you. You need a partner who’s more of a man than you are. Someone who is a good leader, passionate, charismatic, go getter, action oriented, loyal, grounded, ethical, responsible, reliable and romantic. Someone who lets you be bratty and express anger, and also doesn’t take advantage of your problem solving, peaceful and resolution seeking nature.

You tend to be fairly submissive on the outside despite the inner strength you possess so you need someone who is happy with themself and doesn’t feel the need to dominate, and belittle you in order to feel better about themself. I’m not going to lie, due to how passionate you are, you have a very competitive and resentful side to you but also you’re very peaceful, and forgiving. You truly are such a well rounded person. You might attract a lot of hostility and aggression due to this. People can pick up on your inner drive but you seem to harmless on the surface that they try to crush your spirit because they just feel a sense of competitiveness, hostility and aggression towards you without any real reason and you have a strong character on the inside so you don’t break externally but instead usually maintain peace so they don’t understand why and how you’re so unaffected 💀😭. You want a partner who can handle your angry and difficult sides, the ones that are deeply passionate. You cannot settle for just anyone because now that you’ve grown as a person, you’ve grown into your character and strength, you get really bad vibes from most people, and notice their faults and flaws quite easily. ‘CO2’ by Prateek Kuhad is the song that I’m getting here. “Maybe it’s the way that you can see what I’m missing what I can never be.” “Maybe it’s the man that you see in me.” Most people won’t be able to live up to your standards due to how high they are but they’re just normal to you because you can live up to them so you don’t need to lower them. You need to look at things differently now, you’re not unworthy, things are better now, life is brighter now. You are likely to intimidate people once they start seeing your character more clearly. The closer that they’ll get to you, the more that they might feel inferior or like they don’t live up to what you need them to be. You can be critical to some extent because of how high your standards are even for yourself but it’s coming as a strength of yours. Only accept those who are actively trying and being able to live up to what your standards are. If someone gives up or doesn’t try, trust me, you’re better off. Those who think that they’re not enough, they know themselves more than you know them because they experience consciousness from within themself, because they can hear their own thoughts and know about their own actions, and tendencies so believe them when they talk or act like they’re not enough. Right now, I’m getting that while you’re capable of romance, you’re focused on consistently bettering yourself, improving your lifestyle, your career, money, routines, work and studies. You are on the right path. It’s okay to want romance but don’t ever lower your standards by even just an inch or a millimetre because you can live up to your own and you deserve an equal. Thank you so much for reading. I hope that the reading resonated and that it provided you with the answers, and guidance that you wanted and needed. Much love and take care 💋.

⊹ ! ೀ Pile 3 ꒱

(TW: Mentions of abuse, sexual assault, etc.)

Some of you have daddy issues or some kind of issue caused by aggressive people but there’s a strong theme of boys and men here. There are so many scenarios coming through, you’re obviously not going to relate to all of them. For some of you, you’ve just dealt with aggression, threatening your sense of belonging while some of you have dealt with abandonment from either or both parents or just an absence of them, there are even mentions of abuse here for some of you if your parents were present. An angry father or parental figure? If not, you have had terrible experiences with the male gender. It could be something as simple as having boys make fun of you in middle school. These incidents have wounded you really deeply. I’m having a really hard time putting all the scenarios down. There’s definitely some sort of a deep wound when it comes to belonging - be it family, home, community, school or work. Also little incidents grew into real big ones that I’m hearing traumatised you. For example, you got with some guy, that changed the entire trajectory of your life. The thing is, you received a lot of intolerance from everyone for a major part of your life. It escalated close to abuse, violence and bullying at some point, and for many of you, it could have had something to do with a guy. Don’t get me wrong, it would have been a part of your life either way. People just have been so aggressive, unruly and intolerant towards you for no reason, you didn’t deserve that but I will explain how it could have had something to do with a guy for many of you. For example, you got into a relationship with some guy, you could have been heavily criticised by other people who also liked and wanted him considered you to be ‘not good enough’ for him just for this guy to break up with you in a disrespectful manner with no regard for you whatsoever, and after that, I’m getting that either the aggression and bullying from other people intensified or the effects of the previous unruly treatment started affecting you intensely.

Many of you have dealt with an abusive situation even if it’s just emotionally though it could have been physically for some of you (by parents, romantic partners, etc.) Do not invalidate your experiences ever because even if others might think that it was not abuse, it definitely was. It affected you so deeply, I’m not even being able to express it properly. I’m just crying right now. If you didn’t deal with any of the above situations. Though, I believe that many of you have dealt with all or at least majority of what I’m mentioning. Then, you dealt with guy friends who were using you for an ego boost and acted as though you wanted them so bad if you simply tried to keep the friendship going or tried to fix things instead of ending them. Guys have made you feel really preyed on. People in general have but guys especially. Some of you could have even dealt with men trying to assault you sexually. It could have been something as simple as someone forcefully kissing you as a child or making you watch porn. Something like this could have happened when you were a teen or an adult too but I just got that since kids are the most vulnerable, it likely happened to many of you as kids. Oh my god, no way. I just heard “he doesn’t like cougars, he likes little kids. He stopped liking me when I turned eighteen.” I feel like your life has always been this way. Having people walk all over you and treat you like shit but it got especially worst in your teen years. I’m not sure what happened at fourteen and seventeen specifically but seventeen was your last straw, and your experiences all the way from when you were fourteen contributed to finally realising the truth. In fact, your experiences before that contributed too but I’m picking up that mistreatment and aggression were/felt the most extremely during your teenage years. Any childhood abuse or mistreatment, or instability, you realised the truth of all of that through what you experienced during your teenage years. People genuinely just lacked compassion towards you and you had to deal with a lot of loneliness.

It is like anytime that you were not keeping to yourself and connecting with others, they were abusing, using and mistreating you. People used to treat you aggressively, make fun of you and mistreat you for their own sick sense of enjoyment, in order to boost their ego, and have fun. I’m so sorry, you didn’t deserve all that. Even when you were with people, you were very lonely and felt insecure, and lacking due to the way they used to treat you and once you finally got away, you felt incredibly insecure, unstable, and lacking but you chose that over mistreatment from others and that’s how you grew. “Don’t be afraid to stand alone. Don’t be afraid to stand outside your comfort zone. I know it’s hard away from home and it ain’t easy all alone.” You had a strong thirst for knowledge from since you were a kid but during this time of loneliness, it transformed into a need. You were seeking truth and clarity because you genuinely needed it to move forward but you have always possessed some sort of a divine knowledge. Which is why you were able to be so compassionate, still and passive at the face of such mistreatment, aggressiveness and lack of compassion. Divinity exists within all of us and you were aware of that. So you naturally acted like the bigger person until you couldn’t anymore but this breakdown caused you to get closer to your own truth. You started realising that while it’s good to learn through external sources, true knowledge and wisdom is something that we are just born with, and that anything else that comes through, it should come from within. For example, we are not born racists, as kids, all we want is to receive and give love, and we are active, and full of life, that’s the only knowledge that truly matters - the ability to be yourself in your highest, most divine and purest form. You also realised just how shitty the treatment that you received in the past was and how lonely, and insecure you were.

You may have felt at home with these people or shared a community with them but even so, you decided to act with integrity and do right by you even if it required loneliness or/and isolation. For some of you, after all of this had passed, you met someone who you felt really at home with but for some reason, you still had to logically act out of fairness and had to reward them with the consequences of their actions rather than with negotiation. The trajectory of your growth has been amazing. One of your strengths is your sense of hope and faith. You felt like you’d never get anything good in life and that your life was doomed, and that you’d be lonely and empty forever but you still kept going, and you managed to get better so now you have hope and faith regarding life. Back then, you just wanted to feel better, get better and now, you have so now you have a sense of direction, you’re focused on nourishing yourself. You are connected to your core essence and are comfortable with your vulnerability, and sense of nakedness i.e. your authenticity. You’re nourishing and loving yourself wholeheartedly in any, and every way possible though. Yes, there’s always room for improvement. Like, for example, you may do your skincare, workout and do your work diligently but you may not eat all three meals so you could work on that, etc. But definitely, you try to make sure to eat even if you’re busy because your nourishment means a lot to you. You might be unable to have all three meals but you try. You’re very intense in terms of romance and also really romantic. but you don’t try to put in time, energy, and effort into romance anymore unless the other person comes to you first and is consistently present, and shows promise of a solid future but you’re very content being alone. You in fact, really enjoy it. You are on a journey of self discovery and improvement, and understand yourself and love very deeply due to how much time you’ve spent alone, by yourself, in contemplation, and soul searching.

You’ve drawn out a lot of wisdom from within yourself. You’re spiritually enlightened and don’t mind being alone or different. Even if it is difficult, even if you’re considered to be difficult, you want to be yourself. “Share my life, take me for what I am cause I’ll never change all my colours for you. Take my love, I’ll never ask for too much, just all that you are and everything that you do.” You’re aware by now that it is nothing except self betrayal to try to earn love by changing yourself because even if you manage to receive love, they won’t be living ‘you’ and if you don’t win them over, you’d have lost yourself in the process, and would feel terrible about yourself so you’d rather be alone but yourself. That one bible story is coming through here. “Jacob agreed to work for seven years to marry Rachel, the woman he loved but was deceived by her father Laban and ended up marrying her older sister, Leah. Though he fulfilled his time and eventually married Rachel too, Jacob loved Rachel more than Leah. Seeing that Leah was unloved, god allowed her to bear children while Rachel remained barren. With each son she bore, Leah hoped that Jacob would finally love her - naming her first Reuben, saying, “now my husband will love me”, her second Simeon because “the lord has heard that I am hated”, and her third Levi, thinking, “now my husband will become attached to me.” However, Jacob’s heart did not change. When she bore her fourth son, Judah, Leah no longer pleaded for her husband’s affection but simply said, “this time I will praise the lord.” You seem to be aware of the fact that love that is not freely given can never be earned so you don’t even try. If you found the kind of love that you desire, if you found someone who loved and cherished you, you would be intensely passionate and romantic, honestly to an extreme but that’s because, that’s just who you are. You’d indulge in it very deeply. You’d experience the feeling of being ‘drunk in love’.

“With you, there’s silence in a crowd. There’s a little unconsciousness, with you, because of you.” You’d make an intense lover who loves incredibly deeply but you’re not interested in trying to earn anyone’s love in order to channel your romantic energy. You might in fact, have these sides of you pretty hidden. All of you have different kinds of personality but all of you have a very meek one. Some of you are more of the silent kind, some of you may be talkative when with others and might seem really social, and some of you might manage to do both but if you do have a talkative and social side, there’s this thing about you in which once you are out of that social situation, you struggle to stay in touch with others, isolate yourself and randomly disappear. Also, the more time that you spend in a social situation and with certain people, the more silent and internal that you tend to get. I’m loving all the messages that are coming through for your strengths. We don’t see through our eyes, we see through our minds. Our eyes are just a medium for us to perceive the external world and interact with it. There’s so much in the world about ‘finding god’ or ‘figuring out the meaning of life’, people just want to know where and how it all started, and where and how we will all end up after death so they seek god but do they really manage to find divinity? Most people don’t because god made it so simple yet so tricky to find them by choosing to reside where they’re currently residing i.e. within each person. Most people aren’t able to comprehend that divinity can reside within them because they think that figuring out the mysteries of life and receiving answers is much more complicated than that, and that’s okay but they’d easily find divinity, god, whatever they want to call it if they only turned their vision inside and looked within themselves. Most of you are aware of this truth so you try to keep yourself as clean, good and pure spirited as possible because divinity should not reside in a dirty place. It does not have to be conscious awareness or conscious trying but you’re just incredibly internal and have learned so much from going within yourself that you’ve found your guide there, your divinity itself and you’re well aligned with your life purpose. If you’re not quite there yet, you soon will be. Thank you so much for reading. I hope that the reading resonated and that it provided you with the answers, and guidance that you wanted and needed. Much love and take care 💋.

[wongyuseokie]

Theories & Heartstrings | k.m.g

Chapter 1: Love at First Collision

Summary: As a writer with a mildly cynical take on love, you’ve always believed people have a “type”—a pattern they never stray from when it comes to dating. And Kim Mingyu? He’s the textbook definition of someone who wouldn’t go for someone like you, nor would you go for him. But you test your theory when a fateful run-in with your charming neighbour sparks an unexpected attraction.

The plan? Go on dates with him and count how many it takes before your heart gets involved—if it ever does. But Mingyu is unpredictable, effortlessly breaking down your carefully constructed walls with every smile, every late-night conversation, every moment that feels too easy to be just an experiment.

The real problem? Secrets never stay secrets for long. And when Mingyu finds out the truth behind your so-called theory, will it prove you right, or that love doesn’t follow the rules you thought it did?

☆ 18+ minors dni |☀︎fluff | ☁︎ angst | ♕smut

Word Count: 18,732 words im sorry i couldnt stop yapping

Pairings: Neighbor! Mingyu x Journalist! Female Reader

Genre/Trope(s)/AU(s): Neighbours AU! Fake Dating AU! (but only one is fake dating. It’ll make sense when you read it, lol). Non-Idol AU!. 

Content Warnings:  mentions of blood (nothing graphic), wonwoo is also yn's housemate, but they have a mildly flirty relationship. joshua cares too much about plants. strong language and mentions of food and alcohol. Y/N is pretty confused, quite lost in general about her feelings, and very much in denial. quite a bit of arguing, no one here is good with their emotions. Y/N will be very annoying here. I apologise, but the girl has trust issues. they go back and forth, I’m very sorry. she’s feeling insecure, but nothing too intense (she got sad because of alcohol). Smut Warnings: protected sex (sadly this happens once in the first chapter, and that’s it lol), oral (m & f receiving) big dick! Mingyu, because duh! Sex toy usage (using it on y/n and it’s a vibrator, it’s red if that helps?), multiple orgasms, overstimulation. Lots of spicy moments with a ton of teasing. Shower sex. Author's Note 1: I'd be remiss if I didn't thank the lovely people who helped beta this monster of a story. thank you @lovetaroandtaemin @nebulousbrainsoup @strxwberry-skiess for your patience time and love thank you guys so much!! Author's Note 2: welp here it is guys my last fic, ever, but good news, this is only chapter 1! Series Masterlist

“I am not picking up your tree, Joshua.” You held the phone to your ear, exasperated, as your best friend whined like a child on the other end.

“Y/N, please. First of all, she’s a plant, not a tree! Second, that plant is my baby. She can keep everything else in the breakup, but she’s not getting Lydia!”

You blinked. “You named a tree?”

“She’s a bonsai,” Joshua sniffled, voice wobbling with heartbreak. “And my bitch of an ex left her out on the front step to die. Lydia’s gonna freeze, Y/N.”

You sighed. “You’ve really lost it.”

“Nope. I gave her a human name on purpose. So now you feel guilty abandoning her.”

You groaned. “You’re emotionally manipulating me with a bonsai.”

Joshua smirked through the phone. “And it’s working, isn’t it?”

“Fine,” you grumbled. “But I swear to God, if I have to hear about Julie one more time—”

“Nope! Just Lydia,” he said quickly. “Please rescue my plant baby. I love you, bye!”

The call ended before you could protest again. You let out another sigh, tossed your phone on the desk, and returned to your open document.

Writing had always been your dream—getting to pour your thoughts into something tangible, something that made people feel. You’d started at your company writing fluffy lifestyle pieces—“Make Your Apartment Your Sanctuary,” and “7 Houseplants That Won’t Die Instantly”—but lately, you'd taken control.

Now you led the Lifestyle and Well-Being column, tackling everything from relationship advice to self-love, and yes, even that viral review on the best adult toys on the market. The one that made your editor blush and your DMs explode.

You smiled faintly at the memory. You were making people feel seen—and that meant something.

“Done for the day?” Your boss asked, pausing by your desk.

“Yeah, you need me to stay late?”

“Nope. Just wanted to say—your latest article? Stellar.”

You beamed. “Thanks.” With a wave goodbye, you packed up and headed out—ready to play plant savior.

“Damn, she is cold,” you muttered, spotting the sad-looking bonsai on Julie’s icy doorstep. You scooped Lydia up like a wounded pet and drove her straight back to your apartment.

~~

“Shua?” you called as you stepped inside.

“Lydia!” he gasped dramatically, leaping from the couch. 

You blinked. “You greeted the plant before me?”

“And?” he said, completely unapologetic.

“I rescued it for you!”

“Can I water my girl first and hug you after?” he asked sweetly.

You laughed, tossing your bag onto the sofa. “Fine.” Ten minutes later, Joshua returned from the kitchen, Lydia perched happily on the windowsill and a bottle of wine in hand.

“She’s adjusting well to her new home,” he declared, pouring you both glasses. “And hydrated.”

“How nice,” you deadpanned. “Jealous of a plant now.”

“Oh, don’t pout. I’d hydrate you too, but unlike Lydia, the last time I sprayed you with the hose, you got mad.”

You snorted. “Why the hell is her name Lydia anyway?”

“She looked like one.”

You raised a brow. “Okay, then what do I look like?”

Joshua smirked. “Horny.”

You glared. “I will drown your bonsai in wine.”

He grinned. “C’mon, your last article must’ve left you a little pent up.”

“Shut up,” you said, throwing back your drink.

By the time the wine bottle was empty, you were curled into Joshua’s side on the couch, the warmth of alcohol and his comfort loosening your guard.

“Seriously though,” you murmured. “Why’d she dump you?”

He gave a bitter chuckle. “Said I was too nice.”

You blinked slowly. “Wait? How is that an issue?”

He smiled. “You’re drunk.”

“You always do that,” you muttered, suddenly pulling away.

“Do what?”

“Assume I’m just a drunken mess.”

“Well, right now you kind of are. And... you’re really close.”

You recoiled further. “Right. Wouldn’t want to make you uncomfortable.”

“Come on, I didn’t mean it like that,” he groaned.

You didn’t answer. You just grabbed your phone instead.

Joshua sighed. “Okay, I’m going to bed. See you in the morning.”

You poured yourself another glass—your third—just in time for Wonwoo, your other housemate, to walk through the door.

You were sprawled on the couch, one leg dangling over the edge, a half-empty wine glass resting when Wonwoo walked in, looking devastatingly handsome in his work attire.

He was wearing a crisp white shirt, sleeves rolled up to his elbows, showcasing his toned forearms, and a pair of perfectly tailored black trousers. His tie was slightly loosened, and his hair was slightly tousled like he’d run his fingers through it a few too many times. You couldn’t help but stare, your wine-hazed mind fixating on how effortlessly attractive he looked.

“Wow,” you murmured, not realising you’d said it out loud until Wonwoo’s eyes flickered over to you, a small, amused smile appearing on his lips.

“Did you just... wow me?” he asked, shutting the door behind him and shrugging off his coat.

You didn’t even have the decency to feel embarrassed. Instead, you just giggled and nodded, lifting your wine glass in a mock toast. “You look outstanding, Woo. Like, unfairly good.”

He arched a brow, walking into the living room and leaning against the arm of the couch, towering over you. “Have you been drinking alone?”

You waved your hand dismissively. “I started with Joshua, and then he got all snippy. But thankfully, you’re here now looking like a model from a GQ spread. Seriously, do you just walk around looking like that?”

Wonwoo chuckled, the sound low and almost too attractive for your mildly intoxicated state. “It’s called having a job, Y/N. You should try it sometime.”

You scoffed, pretending to be offended. “I have a job! I just... don’t have to wear a suit for it. Or look that good doing it.”

He gave you one of those half-smiles that made your heart thump. “You look pretty good right now. Maybe it’s just the wine talking.”

You narrowed your eyes at him, poking his arm lightly. “Are you flirting with me? Or just being nice because I’m a little tipsy?”

He glanced at your wine glass, then at you, eyes softening. “A little of both, maybe.”

That made you giggle again, and you scooted over, patting the empty spot next to you. “Sit. You’ve been working all day. You deserve to relax.”

Wonwoo hesitated, but eventually lowered himself onto the couch, his shoulder brushing yours as he leaned back. You could smell his cologne now, something warm and woodsy that made your stomach do a little flip.

“So,” he said gently, “what’s with the sad eyes? It’s Friday.”

“Joshua’s pissed at me, I think.”

Wonwoo nodded. “He’s not the best with drunk people.”

You pouted. “So you think I’m drunk too.”

“I think you’re not sober,” he teased, pulling you easily into his lap.

“You’re really pretty, you know,” you mumbled.

Wonwoo glanced at you, one brow raised, clearly fighting a smile. “You’re definitely drunk.”

“Am not,” you argued, sticking your tongue out. “I’m just being honest. You don’t get to be this attractive and not know it.”

He finally gave in to a full smile, one that made your heart flutter. “You really don’t hold back when you’re tipsy, do you?”

You shrugged, taking another sip. “Life’s too short to hold back. And you’re too pretty to not be told so.”

Wonwoo shook his head, but there was a fondness in his gaze that made you feel oddly comfortable. You let the silence fall between you, not awkward, just... nice.

He glanced down at your empty glass and gently took it from your hand, setting it on the coffee table. “Maybe that’s enough for tonight.”

You pouted but didn’t argue. Instead, you leaned against his shoulder, feeling the warmth of his body seep into yours. “You’re really comfy too,” you mumbled.

He chuckled softly, his hand coming up to rest on your shoulder, almost as if it was second nature. “You’re a lot clingier when you’ve had a few drinks.”

You hummed in agreement, not really caring to defend yourself. “It’s because you’re nice to cling to.”

You smiled. “So you’re back home early on a Friday night, what happened, no hot date?”

“Nah, my job and its demands make it difficult to date, what about you? You wrote a very spicy article, did that not get you at least a few contenders to try out the toys in your article?”

You sighed. “ Shut up, and plus, I crave intimacy, not just a one-night stand.”

He paused. “Interesting.”

“Shh, let me sleep,” you mumbled as you curled more into his chest. 

Wonwoo didn’t push you away, just let you rest against him, and you could have sworn you felt his thumb gently brush over your shoulder. Your heart beat a little faster, and you couldn’t help but smile, too comfortable to care about anything else at that moment.

As the show on TV changed to something else, Wonwoo sighed, seemingly more relaxed now that he’d settled in. “You’re lucky I don’t mind being your drunk pillow.”

You grinned, snuggling closer. “You secretly love it.”

He didn’t reply, but the soft chuckle that rumbled through his chest was answer enough.

You blinked. “Sure.”

~~ The next morning, you walked into a plant shop, hopeful that obnoxiously expensive and ornate plant would make up for the snippy exchange you and Joshua had last night. The bell above the door jingled as you approached the counter, pointing to a tiny bonsai in the window. “For a friend,” you said. “He likes plants?” The older man smiled. “He named his.” The man chuckled, gently wrapping the pot. “Plants are like people. They need the right love to thrive.” “Yeah,” you murmured. “Thanks.” ~~ You were returning back to the apartment, and you took a sudden turn–then froze. 

“Oh, shit—” you yelped as the tiny bonsai smashed into someone’s face.

“FUCK,” he yelled, hands flying to his nose.

“Oh my god, I—your face—your plant! I’m so sorry!”

The man looked up, wincing. “You could have broken my nose. And you’re worried about the plant?”

“Do you live here?” You asked, noticing how he was standing outside the apartment door opposite yours, ignoring the blood.

“What?”

“I mean—can I help? Do you have ice?”

He blinked. “Yeah. Come in.”

Inside, he handed you his keys, too dazed to care.

“You’re very trusting,” you muttered, digging through his freezer.

“You already injured me. What more could you do?”

You found an ice pack and vodka, held up both. “You want comfort or numbness?”

“I’ll take both,” he mumbled, sitting down.

You pressed the pack to his nose. “What’s your name?”

“Kim Mingyu.”

“I’m Y/N.”

He cracked a pained smile. “So this is how you meet people? Assault first, names later?”

You laughed. “Only when I’m feeling flirty.”

“Cute,” he said, gently taking the ice pack from your hand.

You stared at the barely bleeding gash. “You’ll survive.”

“See this scar?” he pointed to one above his brow. “My sister gave me that. I can handle one pot-wielding girl.”

The soft hum of the city buzzed faintly through the windows as you sat on Mingyu’s couch, nervously picking at a stray thread on your sweater. Mingyu plopped down next to you, a little too close, but you didn’t mind. His shoulder brushed against yours as he leaned back, stretching his long legs out.

“So,” Mingyu said, flashing you a charming smile. “Now that I’ve lured you into my lair, I guess I should actually get to know you.”

You snorted, rolling your eyes. “Yeah? You planning to interrogate me?”

He shrugged, eyes sparkling with mischief. “Maybe. Gotta make sure my neighbor isn’t secretly plotting my demise. Or maybe I’m just trying to figure out why you always look like you’re on a mission when you leave the building.”

You bit back a laugh, raising an eyebrow. “Oh, you mean when I’m rushing to meet deadlines and not running a secret spy operation?”

Mingyu grinned. “Exactly. So what’s with all the late-night typing sessions? What do you do?”

You hesitated for a moment. “I’m a writer. Lifestyle pieces mostly. A bit of everything — fashion, travel, relationships. It’s kind of like... whatever my editor thinks people are obsessed with that week.”

Mingyu raised his eyebrows, clearly impressed. “That sounds pretty cool. So you just... write about life?”

“Pretty much,” you said, relaxing into the couch. “Sometimes it’s advice columns, sometimes it’s think pieces. Occasionally, it’s lists of the top ten sex toys to spice up your love life.”

Mingyu choked on his drink, coughing as his cheeks flushed. “Wait... that was you?”

You frowned in confusion. “What?”

He cleared his throat, looking a little embarrassed but unable to hide his smirk. “I, uh... I might have read that article. Thought the writing was... bold.”

You couldn’t help but laugh. “Bold, huh? Didn’t think that piece would be your go-to read.”

Mingyu grinned sheepishly. “It wasn’t exactly on my list, but it popped up. It was one of those late-night ‘am I missing out on something’ moments.”

You couldn’t stop your cheeks from heating up. “I didn’t peg you as the type to read lifestyle blogs.”

“I didn’t peg myself as one either,” he admitted. “But the writing was clever. Funny. Made it sound... approachable. I should’ve known it was you.”

You snorted. “Should I take that as a compliment?”

“Absolutely,” he said, giving you a soft, lopsided smile. “You made it sound... less intimidating.”

You tucked a strand of hair behind your ear, trying to ignore the way your stomach flipped. “Well, I do aim to please.”

Mingyu hummed thoughtfully. “And here I thought I was the one trying to impress you.”

“Oh, really?” you teased, leaning closer. “How’s that working out for you?”

He chuckled, eyes flickering to your lips for just a moment. “Jury’s still out. But I’m definitely intrigued.”

Your pulse quickened at his words, but you tried to play it cool. “What about you? What’s your thing?”

Mingyu gestured casually to the wall behind you, where a few framed photographs hung. You turned around, realizing you hadn’t noticed them before.

“They’re yours?” You asked, genuinely surprised.

He nodded, a bit shy now. “Yeah. I’m a photographer. Mostly freelance, but I’ve done some shows and a few magazine spreads. I guess I’m always chasing light and moments... like that one.” He pointed to a picture of a bustling street at sunset, the sky bleeding shades of pink and orange over the cityscape.

“It’s beautiful,” you murmured, stepping closer to look. “You really captured the way the city feels alive.”

Mingyu’s lips curved into a soft smile. “That’s the goal. Sometimes it works, sometimes it doesn’t.”

You glanced back at him, raising a brow. “So, you just wander around looking for the perfect shot?”

He nodded, leaning back comfortably. “Pretty much. Sometimes it’s places. Sometimes it’s people. Anything that feels... real.”

You felt a little flutter in your chest at his words. “That’s kind of poetic.”

Mingyu smiled, a little bashful. “Didn’t mean to get all deep on you.”

You waved him off. “No, I like it. You’ve got this... thoughtful way of looking at things.”

He gave a little shrug, eyes twinkling with that familiar mischief. “Maybe I just know how to make things sound good. Photographer skills.”

You laughed. “And here I thought writers were the ones who spun stories.”

He leaned in just a bit, his voice low and playful. “Maybe we’re not so different after all.”

You met his gaze, your heart racing. “Guess we’ll have to see.”

Mingyu smirked, his fingers lightly brushing yours where they rested on the couch. “I’m looking forward to it.”

“So...” Mingyu leaned in, cocking his head. “If it’s not weird to ask, did you test all those toys out yourself or get reviews from others?” Your eyes widened. “A bit of both.”

“Interesting.”

“I guess you and your significant other can maybe test it out, and I can get more real-time feedback,” you suggested awkwardly, not knowing how to continue the conversation.

He laughed. “Y/N, if I had a significant other, I wouldn’t be sitting here, very turned on, icing my face.”

You swallowed and laughed awkwardly. 

An hour had passed, and you were still seated on Mingyu’s couch, the casual conversation flowing easily between you two. The warmth of his apartment wrapped around you, made cozier by the soft lighting that glowed from the corner lamp. Mingyu had moved closer at some point during your chat, and you couldn’t help but notice how his knee brushed against yours every now and then.

“So, let me get this straight,” Mingyu said, his smile widening as he leaned back, resting his arm along the back of the couch. 

“You’ve managed to convince an entire city that they need to buy seven different types of pillows just to sleep better?”

You laughed, shrugging. “What can I say? The perfect sleep experience is an art. Plus, people like to feel a bit pampered. Who doesn’t love the idea of sinking into a mountain of plush pillows?”

“Fair point,” he conceded, his eyes sparkling with amusement. “You make it sound so luxurious, I almost feel bad for my one sad, flat pillow.”

You raised a brow. “Oh, that’s unacceptable. I think I have a new mission: upgrade your pillow situation.”

Mingyu chuckled, his fingers brushing lightly against your shoulder as he reached for his drink on the coffee table. The simple touch sent a jolt of awareness through you, but you kept your expression calm.

“What about you?” You asked, trying to steer the focus away from how his touch made your skin tingle. “Aside from photography, what do you do when you’re not charming people with your art?”

Mingyu’s lips quirked up. “I cook. A lot. It’s therapeutic. Plus, I’m kind of a food snob.”

Your eyes lit up with intrigue. “You cook? Like, actual meals? Or are we talking ramen and scrambled eggs?”

He scoffed playfully. “Ramen? Please. I can make homemade pasta from scratch. You’d be impressed.”

“That’s a bold statement. I might have to hold you to it.”

He grinned, eyes glinting with a bit of challenge. “I’d love to prove it. But only if you promise to be an honest critic.”

You hummed, leaning in just slightly. “I’m always honest. Sometimes a little too honest.”

His eyes traced your features, lingering a little longer on your lips before darting back to your gaze. “I don’t mind honesty. It’s refreshing.”

A comfortable silence settled between you, and you couldn’t help but notice how Mingyu’s hand had inched closer, resting on the back of the couch just behind your shoulder. The proximity made your pulse quicken, and you weren’t sure if it was the way his voice dropped a little lower or the way his eyes softened when he looked at you.

“So,” he said softly, voice almost a murmur, “would you ever do a part two for that sex toy article? ”

You rolled your eyes, laughing softly. “Why, do you have any suggestions?”

Mingyu raised his hands in mock surrender, but there was a teasing glint in his eyes. “Maybe; would you listen to them?”

You smirked. “Maybe; I am a very open-minded person,”

His eyes flickered down to your lips, and this time, he didn’t look away. Mingyu leaned in just a fraction, testing the waters. “Oh? I think I’d like to get to know you better.”

Your breath caught at the implication, your heart thudding against your ribs. Mingyu’s hand moved from the back of the couch to gently brush your cheek, thumb tracing a light, comforting path along your jaw.

“Is this okay?” He whispered, his eyes searching yours for any sign of hesitation.

You nodded slowly, your voice just as soft. “Yeah... It’s okay.”

He smiled, his lips curving into something almost relieved, before he closed the small distance between you. The kiss was gentle at first, his lips brushing against yours in a tentative, careful way. When you responded, pressing closer, he deepened the kiss slightly, his other hand moving to your waist.

The world seemed to melt away, and all you could feel was the warmth of his touch, the way his lips moved with yours like he’d been waiting to do this for a long time.

When you finally pulled back, just enough to catch your breath, Mingyu rested his forehead against yours, his thumb still caressing your cheek.

“Worth the wait,” he murmured, his voice rough and sincere.

You couldn’t help but smile, feeling more at ease than you had in a long time. “Definitely.”

“I guess I’m happy you almost broke my nose,” he murmured, leaning in slightly.

You let out a soft gasp when he kissed you again, making you melt against him.

“I want to hear that sound again,” he whispered, making you giggle, and you grinned, and he took it as a sign to further things. 

He picked you up easily and carried you to his bedroom and onto his bed, settling you onto his lap like you belonged there. His lips never stopped moving against yours, each kiss more heated, more desperate.

When he finally pulled away, both of you were panting.

“Can I touch you?” He asked, voice lower, rougher now.

You nodded eagerly, lips parted, skin already flushed.

“Good girl,” he whispered.

A moan escaped before you could stop it.

Mingyu raised an eyebrow, that smug smirk creeping back. “Ooh. Praise kink. Duly noted.”

His hands slid up your sides, under your dress, fingertips skating along your skin like he was unwrapping a gift. 

“Can I?” He asked again, but this time, he was already tugging at the fabric.

“Please just do something,” you said, practically squirming in his lap, need pulsing through you like a heartbeat.

He laughed softly — a dark, delicious sound. “You’re adorable when you beg.”

Your dress slipped over your head and onto the floor in one swift motion.

“No bra?” He asked, amused.

“Didn’t feel like it matched the vibe,” you replied with a lazy shrug.

“Big fan of that choice,” he said, palming your breasts in his large hands, thumbs circling your nipples until they hardened under his touch. His mouth followed, warm and wet, kissing and sucking until you were arching into him.

Then his hand drifted lower.

“I don’t think you’ll be needing these either,” he muttered, fingers brushing over the damp heat between your legs.

You let out a soft gasp, legs parting instinctively. “Can I feel you?” He asked again, voice a low rumble against your throat.

“Please,” you breathed, nearly trembling with how badly you needed him.

He slipped your underwear down slowly, teasing you, drawing this out like he enjoyed how desperate you were.

“Been a while?” He murmured, fingers sliding between your folds, making you jolt.

“Way too long,” you confessed, barely managing to speak.

He groaned. “Fuck, I want to taste you so badly, but some beautiful disaster smashed me in the face with a plant tonight.”

“There’s always next time,” you managed to say, breath hitching as he continued to tease your entrance with maddening patience.

“Oh? There’s going to be a next time?” He asked, cocky now.

“Depends if this time’s good,” you teased back.

He grinned, eyes dark. “Oh, sweetheart... it’ll be better than good.”

He lifted you off his lap, laid you gently on the bed like you were something breakable. You watched him undress — slow, purposeful — revealing long lines of muscle and the kind of body that made your mouth water.

When his boxers hit the floor, you let out an involuntary, “Fuck.”

“You keep flattering me; I might forget we’re not in love yet,” he joked, grabbing a condom from the drawer and rolling it on.

“Mingyu,” you moaned, writhing on the sheets, “please, I just need to feel you inside me.”

He froze, eyes wide.

“Won’t it hurt if I don’t—”

“Dude,” you cut in, voice raw. “I’ve been in a dry spell so long I’m practically a desert. Just fuck me.”

He blinked. “Did you just ‘dude’ me while begging for dick?”

“Yes, and your boner better survive it,” you shot back.

He laughed — hard — but that laugh turned into a groan as he lined himself up and slowly pushed inside you.

Your body arched like a live wire had touched it.

“Fucking hell,” he gritted out. “You’re so tight.”

You gasped, fingers digging into the sheets as he bottomed out.

He started moving — slow, deep thrusts that had you babbling nonsense within seconds. One of his hands slid between you, fingers finding your clit and rubbing just the right way.

“I can’t... I’m gonna—” you whimpered, already spiraling.

“Let go. Come on, baby. I’ve got you,” he murmured.

And that was it.

You came hard, shaking, crying out as your body clenched around him. A few rough thrusts later, Mingyu groaned, burying himself deep as he spilled into the condom.

He collapsed on top of you, his face pressed to your chest, both of you struggling to catch your breath.

Eventually, he rolled to the side, pulling you with him.

“Wow,” you whispered.

“I know,” he said, still panting.

“You’re amazing. Thank you.”

He looked over at you, one brow raised. “Are you... thanking me for sex?”

“I mean, yeah? That was better than therapy.”

He laughed, brushing a strand of hair off your face. “I still owe you one. My hands and tongue haven’t even had their turn yet.”

Your eyes widened.

“Unless this was a one-time ‘itch to scratch’ situation?” He added, voice quiet now.

You smiled, slow and wicked. “I think we can definitely make it happen again.”

He kissed your shoulder. “Just... next time, maybe don’t lead with blunt force trauma.”

You grinned. And said,“No promises.”

“I should get going,” you murmured, reluctantly sitting up and scanning the room for your scattered dignity — aka your dress and underwear.

Mingyu nodded, leaning back on his elbows as he watched you move. “Yeah. I mean... this wasn’t exactly how I imagined meeting my neighbors, but I’m not complaining.”

You grinned as he tossed your underwear to you with a lazy smirk and handed you your dress like it was some ceremonial robe.

“How do I look?” You asked, smoothing your hair and tugging the dress into place.

“Stunning,” he said, eyes dragging over you with no shame. “But also, like you just got thoroughly fucked.”

You groaned, covering your face. “Great. Just the look I was going for.”

“Hey, it’s just a few steps across the hall. Embrace the walk of pride,” he teased.

You paused, glancing at the door. “Should I help you finish unpacking? You still have boxes everywhere.” He shook his head. “Nah. Go get rid of that plant for your housemates before you break another part of me.”

You gave him a soft smile. “Oh that’s a good idea, I have a weapon in my hand.”

Mingyu reached for your wrist and pulled you into a kiss — slow, sweet, and way too tender for a one-night stand. It left you blinking when he pulled away.

“What was that for?” You asked, voice barely above a whisper.

He shrugged, brushing your hair behind your ear. “You had that look — like you were overthinking everything. Just wanted to remind you I’m not a dick.”

You bit your lip, smiling. “No... just a guy with a really nice one.”

He laughed, low and raspy, and you forced yourself to peel away before you crawled right back into bed with him.

“See you,” you said, pausing at the door for just a second longer than necessary.

You slipped out, gathered your things with whatever grace you had left, and padded barefoot across the hall to your own apartment — slightly sore, definitely smug, and still tasting him on your lips.

“Oh my God, you’re alive!” Joshua gasped, immediately pulling you into a hug. Then he squinted, nose crinkling. “Wait—why are you sweaty?”

Wonwoo raised an eyebrow, lounging by the counter. “Your dress is on backwards.”

You groaned, tugging at the fabric. “Okay, you nosy bitches, can I at least shower first?”

Joshua tilted his head like a puppy. “So… who’d you fuck?”

You glared at him, cheeks heating. “Our new neighbor. And for the record, I accidentally smashed a bonsai into his face first.”

Joshua blinked. “Why did you have a bonsai?”

You shrugged. “Felt bad. Thought a peace plant might help.” His expression softened. “We’re good, really. But damn. You broke his face, and he broke your back? That’s some poetic symmetry.”

You groaned again, stalking toward the bathroom. “I need a shower. Don’t go anywhere—I’ll be back with way too many details.”

Both men nodded eagerly, already settling in like a live show was coming

~~ You were halfway into post-shower bliss, freshly changed and just barely reclaiming some dignity when there was a soft knock at your bedroom door.

“Can I come in?” You heard Wonwoo’s voice ask.

You glanced up and smiled. “Yeah, come in.” You patted the empty spot on the bed beside you. 

“Did I disturb you?” He asked, motioning toward your open laptop and mess of notes.

“Not really. Just I was brainstorming, earlier,”

Wonwoo settled beside you, his presence warm and familiar. “Maybe write about your latest hookup?” He teased with a slight edge in his voice.

You narrowed your eyes. “Okay, what’s with that tone?”

He shrugged. “I thought you’d want to maybe ask me instead? Weren’t we sort of flirting last night? I don’t just pull everyone onto my lap. But I guess the hot neighbour is who you prefer? What if he’d been a serial killer?”

Your lips twitched into a smile. “I literally knocked him out with a plant. Pretty sure he wasn’t in a position to hurt me.”

Wonwoo flopped back on your bed, arms spread wide. “So that’s it? He read your article, got turned on, and you jumped his bones?”

You snapped your laptop closed and sighed. “Why are you sounding so judgmental?”

He rolled his head toward you. “I was just worried, okay? What if he was a creep?”

You softened a little, scooting closer. “He’s not. He’s nice. Chill.”

Wonwoo nodded. “Okay. So... was he good?”

You laughed. “He's, um... big.”

One of Wonwoo’s eyebrows arched. “That’s not a skill, Y/N. Did he use his hands? Or, you know, go down on you?”

You gave him a pointed look. “His nose was still swollen from my plant assault. He was doing me a favor, not trying to win Olympic gold in oral.”

Wonwoo crossed his arms, unimpressed. “What, were his hands broken too?”

You huffed. “Look, I was desperate. Dry spell hell. He solved the problem. Can you stop interrogating me?”

Your eyes narrowed. “Besides, why do you care who I hook up with?”

Wonwoo sighed, running a hand through his hair. “Since it’s some random guy who lives next door, and you’re acting like you’ve known him forever. You can’t just trust people like that, Y/N.”

You scoffed. “He’s not a random guy. He’s a new neighbor. It’s not like I’m inviting a complete stranger into my life.”

“He kind of is a stranger,” Wonwoo argued, stepping closer. “You don’t know what he’s like, what his deal is. You’re smarter than this. You shouldn’t just let someone into your life because they’re charming or whatever.”

You crossed your arms defensively. “Why do you even care? It’s not like it affects you.”

His jaw clenched, and his eyes softened just a little. “Because I don’t want you to get hurt. You always rush into things, thinking it’s all fun and games. Not everyone’s going to be what they seem.”

You rolled your eyes. “You sound like a dad, Woo.”

Wonwoo’s face flushed slightly, and he exhaled sharply. “I’m serious. Just... be careful. I’m just looking out for you.”

You softened a bit at his concern, realizing he was only trying to protect you. “I appreciate it, really. But I can take care of myself. I’m not a kid.”

His expression was a mix of frustration and something else — something intense that you couldn’t quite place. Before you could think about it too much, he took a step closer, his hand lifting like he was going to cup your cheek, but he hesitated, fingers hovering near your jaw.

You felt your breath hitch, your eyes flicking from his hand to his eyes. “Wonwoo...”

His gaze dipped to your lips, and for a moment, the air between you grew thick with unspoken tension. It felt like everything slowed down, and your pulse raced at the thought of him closing the distance.

But just as he seemed to make up his mind, his phone rang, cutting through the charged atmosphere like a knife. Wonwoo cursed softly, stepping back and fishing his phone from his pocket.

“Yeah?” he answered, his voice suddenly tight. He glanced at you, eyes regretful. “I... I have to take this. Work.”

You swallowed hard, nodding, trying to act unaffected. “Right. Go ahead.”

He hesitated for a beat longer before nodding and walking out of the room to take the call. You stayed rooted to the spot, heart pounding, wondering just what would have happened if that phone hadn’t interrupted.

You flopped back on the bed, groaning into your pillow. Not only were you aroused, you were annoyed. You knew if you stayed here, you'd either break out one of your new toys or spiral into another pity party.

You grabbed your laptop, shoved it in your bag, and got dressed. A café. That was the move. Coffee, background chatter, and maybe a splash of wine. Anything to reset your brain. ~~ You were halfway through your first glass when a familiar voice cut through your concentration.

“This seat taken?”

You looked up. Mingyu. Those eyes.

“Uh... no,” you said, blinking. “I mean—yeah, sit. Please.”

He chuckled. “You can say no if it’s weird. I won’t cry. Promise.”

You shook your head. “It’s fine. Have a seat.”

He settled in beside you, pulling out his own laptop like it was the most casual thing in the world. You tried to focus. You really did. “Y/N?” He asked suddenly. “Hm?” “Do you hate your laptop?” You blinked. “No? Why?” He sipped his drink and gestured to your keyboard. “Because it sounds like you’re trying to kill it.” You stared at your fingers. “Seriously?” “I mean, you’re not typing—you’re committing keyboard homicide.” You sighed. “I’m just wound up.” “Want to talk about it?” You glanced at him, then nodded. “My housemate got nosy about us. Asked a bunch of judgmental questions. Then offered to do what you didn’t do, and right when he’s about to kiss me... boom. Call. He leaves. I’m left... frustrated.” Mingyu tilted his head. “What I didn’t do?” You swallowed. “Like... go down on me. Use your hands.” Mingyu leaned in slightly, voice dropping. “Ah. That.” “My nose was a mess that night,” he explained. “And if I’m going down on someone, I want to enjoy it. I don’t want to half-ass it through a sinus headache.” You nodded slowly. “It wasn’t a complaint. It just—he made it sound like you were reluctant.” “Well, he doesn’t know me; I am never reluctant. Just injured with a bonsai.” “Well then, let me get this straight.” You leaned back with a smirk. “You’re annoyed because you were offered ‘better’ sex, didn’t get it, and now you’re taking it out on your poor laptop?” Mingyu blinked at you, and then you gave a slow nod. “More or less.” You grinned, and he took a step closer. “Lucky for you, I don’t tend to get phone calls mid-orgasm. Want me to help… ease that frustration?” Your breath caught. “I’m still writing.” “How many words?” You pouted. “Five. Just the title.” “Exactly.” He flashed a grin. “You’re wound up. Let me help.” “Give me like 1 hour more. I’m sure I can write,” you insisted, making Mingyu grin as he leaned back on the chair and played on his phone, with a knowing smirk, almost as if he knew you would not be able to get any work done now, considering how tightly wound up you were.

~~ “You’re not writing anything, are you?” Mingyu tilted his head at your laptop screen, clearly unimpressed. “I’m trying,” you muttered, snapping the laptop shut. “But it’s like my brain’s been replaced with mashed potatoes.” “Then come with me.” “To where?” “We’re going pub crawling. It’ll help you unwind.” You blinked. “It’s three in the afternoon.” He shrugged. “Perfect time to study the science of types. Dating, attraction, weird flirting tactics—there’s no better place than a pub.” “So this is pure science?” “Exactly,” he said. You groaned but grabbed your bag anyway. “Fine. But if we get sloppy drunk, I’m blaming you.” Mingyu grinned and offered you his hand. “Deal.”

~~ “Okay, she’s definitely into him,” Mingyu whispered over the rim of his pint, leaning toward you at the crowded corner booth. You peeked over at the couple across the bar. “How can you tell?” “She’s playing with her straw. That’s peak first-flirt body language. But watch—he’s not making eye contact.” “He’s staring at her chest,” you confirmed, rolling your eyes. “Typical.” Mingyu chuckled. “He’s either nervous or an idiot.” “Or both.” You sipped your wine and leaned back against the leather seat, your shoulder brushing his. Neither of you moved away. The buzz in your veins wasn’t just from the alcohol—it was from him. “You’re good at this people-watching thing,” you said. “Like, weirdly good.” “I’m a photographer. I notice things.” “You should’ve warned me you were charming.”

“I did,” he said, nudging your thigh under the table. “You just didn’t believe me.” You fought a smile and looked away. “What else do you notice?” “Right now?” He murmured, his voice low and smooth. “You’re tipsy. And you’re wondering what happens next.” You turned to him slowly. “What does happen next?” Mingyu grinned. “We go back to mine. Pizza, movie... whatever else comes naturally.” You raised a brow. “Smooth.” “Just honest.” And somehow, you found yourself in a cab minutes later, curled up against his side, letting yourself lean in just a little too close. The city lights passed in blurs, and you weren’t sure if it was the wine or Mingyu’s hand on your thigh making you feel weightless. “Are you always this cuddly when you drink?” Mingyu's voice was soft against your ear as he helped you out of the cab. His hand stayed on your lower back, steady and warm as you made your way up the building steps. “I’m not drunk,” you mumbled, swaying just slightly. “You’re not not drunk,” he teased, nudging you playfully with his shoulder. “Shut up,” you said, but you were already laughing. “And for the record, I’m always this cuddly. Alcohol just makes me more velcro-like.” Mingyu smiled as he unlocked the door to his apartment, ushering you inside. “Welcome to my humble, semi-furnished, testosterone-fueled abode.” “I thought you said your roommates moved in?” “They did. You’ll meet them—eventually.” He kicked off his shoes and walked ahead of you toward the kitchen. You hovered awkwardly in the living room, suddenly very aware of how intimate this was. Mingyu in his home. You in his space. “Water?” He called from the kitchen. “Please.” You accepted the glass he handed you, your fingers brushing his. The contact sent a small spark down your spine. “So...” he said, settling onto the couch and patting the cushion next to him. “Wanna tell me how many words you wrote today?” You narrowed your eyes at him as you sat down. “Why are you like this?” “Charming? Helpful? Irresistible?” “Insufferable,” you corrected, even though a smile tugged at your lips. “Still better than mashed potatoes for brains.” “Low blow.” He nudged you again, and you nearly spilled your water from how close you were suddenly sitting. His thigh pressed into yours—and that’s when it hit you. His thigh. Solid. Warm. 

Unmoving. And then he flexed it. You choked slightly. Mingyu looked amused. “What?”

“Stop doing that,” you hissed. “Doing what?”

“That thing with your leg.”

“Oh?” He leaned in, grinning. “You mean this?”

He flexed again, and you tried not to squirm.

“You’re evil,” you muttered.

“You’re the one sitting on my thigh.”

Your mouth opened. Closed. “I’m not sitting—” “You are,” he said, eyes locked on yours. “And I think you like it.”

You swallowed hard, heat curling low in your stomach. “Shut up.”

“I could make you feel better, you know.”

You turned toward him slowly. “I didn’t say I was feeling bad.”

“Then let me make you feel even better.”

His hand moved gently to your hip.

“You sure?” he asked, gaze sincere, voice quieter now.

You nodded, breath catching.

Mingyu smiled, pulled you fully into his lap—and the rest of your thoughts disappeared.

“Besides, I want to taste you,” Mingyu murmured, his breath warm against your skin. “Say something?” You nodded, breath catching. “Yes.”

Mingyu smirked. “Good girl.”

You whimpered. “Oh no, praise kink. Dangerous game.” He grinned at you, full of teasing and promise, and led you back to his bedroom. You followed without question.

“Hey, nice,” you said, looking around his space. “You got the place set up.”

“Yeah,” Mingyu said, casually kicking off his shoes. “I had help from someone, but we ended up fucking, so—she wasn’t that helpful.”

You shot him a glare. “Charming.”

“Sit.”

You did. He peeled off his hoodie in one fluid motion, revealing his bare chest.

“You just walk around looking like that?”

“Problem?”

“None,” you said, blinking hard. “Just—wow.”

“Tell me what you like. Move my head, stop me if it’s too much, too fast—just say the word.”

You nodded as he leaned in and kissed you, slow and teasing. You pulled back.

“Wait.”

Mingyu raised a brow, but you stood and started undressing.

“Stop,” he said. “Let me.”

You sat back, breath uneven. He knelt in front of you, his fingers working the clasp of your bra. The straps fell like they were made to. He tossed the fabric aside before wrapping his lips around your nipple, warm tongue flicking against the sensitive skin. His other hand massaged your other breast in perfect sync. You whimpered as he switched sides, giving both equal attention, his lips dragging heat from your skin.

“Oh, I love those sounds,” he murmured against your chest, lips brushing your sternum.

He hooked his fingers into your panties and slid them down, tossing them somewhere across the room.

“If I can’t find those later, I’m blaming you. They were one of my favorites.”

“You’ll survive,” he said, just before he kissed your clit. 

Your hips bucked. 

“Right there?”

You nodded, breathless.

He smirked against you, arms wrapping around your thighs to hold you still. You weren’t going anywhere—not when he was just getting started.

He traced slow, deliberate circles over your clit with his tongue. Unwavering. Steady.

“You’re good at this,” you moaned.

“Also... was that my name in cursive on your clit?” You asked breathlessly. 

“Maybe.”

Mingyu didn’t let up—his tongue kept working you through every shaky gasp. You came hard, trembling in his grip. He didn’t stop. Not even when you cried out, not even when you begged. He sucked on your clit like it was oxygen. You came again, legs twitching, hand buried in his hair.

When he finally pulled back, you were wrecked—back slouched into the cushions, breathing heavy.

“So?”

“Amazing,” you whispered, blinking up at the ceiling.

You turned toward him, your fingers drifting to the button of his jeans. “You don’t have to,” he said.

“I know,” you replied. “I want to.”

He helped you slide them down, then hissed as you palmed his cock through his boxers.

“Don’t tease me,” he said, voice ragged. “Noted.”

You pulled him free and tried not to moan at the sight. He was thick, flushed, and already leaking. You licked his tip and smiled when his hips jerked forward.

“Fuck,” he muttered as you took him deeper. What you couldn’t fit, you made up for with your hand.

When you started massaging his balls, he gasped. “Shit. Shit. Baby, I’m gonna—”

You didn’t stop.

He groaned loudly, head falling back, fingers gripping the sofa as he spilled into your mouth. You swallowed every drop, letting your tongue tease his tip one last time.

Mingyu collapsed back into the cushions, chest heaving. “That was... wow.”

You smiled, cheeks flushed and body warm, still glowing from the attention he’d given you minutes ago. He looked at you, all awe and affection. “You know,” he said, voice still breathless, “I should’ve invited you over way sooner.”

You were laughing, but the second you finished laughing, suddenly the afterglow of your orgasm had dimmed, and you were painfully aware of how naked you were. 

“Hey… you okay?” Mingyu’s voice was quiet, and your eyes flicked to him as you instinctively grabbed the nearest pillow and hugged it to your bare chest. “I’m fine,” you said quickly, hoping your shyness wasn’t obvious. “Oh.” Mingyu stood, then paused. “Wait.” He turned the lights off, casting the room in soft shadows. “I can’t see much now, but I’ll just—”

He handed you his shirt blindly. “Here. You can use this.” “Thanks,” you murmured, slipping it on fast and clinging to the extra bit of coverage. The lights flicked back on, and Mingyu gave you a reassuring smile. “You can relax. I wasn’t trying to get you out of it again.” You gave a breathy laugh, still a little too self-conscious to meet his gaze.

“It was fun,” he added casually. “I mean... not that I’m saying we should do it again. Unless you want to. But not because I expect—shit, this is coming out wrong.”

You tilted your head at him. “You think?” “I’m just saying, I wasn’t expecting anything,” he backtracked. “You’re beautiful. And I’m not... trying to mess with your head or anything.” “Thanks for the orgasms,” you said dryly, tugging your jeans on. Mingyu flinched, clearly caught off guard. “Okay. That’s fair. I deserved that.” You bent down to grab your shirt and looked up at him with a narrowed stare. “Right. Because you’re so emotionally competent.” “I never claimed to be,” he said, his voice tight now. “Look, we barely know each other. It was just sex. You don’t have to get all weird about it.” You stood up, heart thudding now—not from embarrassment, but from frustration. “I’m not weird about it. But you are clearly trying to backpedal hard enough to twist your ankle.” “Okay, fine,” he snapped, raising his hands. “I’ll go. I’m sorry for bothering you.” He rolled his eyes as he walked out. You didn’t stop him. Not when you were that close to tearing up. You didn’t know why it suddenly affected you; you knew you had some slight issues with confidence and doubted yourself quite a bit; you just didn’t expect to get like that during a casual hook-up. ~~ You slammed the door behind him, then stormed into your own apartment. “Y/N?” Joshua looked up from the couch. “Not now,” you muttered, brushing past him and heading straight for your bedroom. You could still hear Mingyu’s voice echoing in your head. “It was just sex.” Fucking idiot. You paced for a moment before throwing yourself down on the bed. The knock at your door came less than five minutes later. You cracked it open to see Mingyu standing sheepishly, holding a paper bag. “I had to think of an excuse,” he said, offering it. “Your bra��s in here.” You sighed and took the bag from him. “You came back for my bra?” “I didn’t want to leave things like that, Bambi eyes let me in, I didn’t catch his name,” he admitted. “That’s Joshua; he let you in.” Mingyu glanced around. “Can I sit?” You pointed to the bed, and he eased down onto the edge. “Why did you come back?” “I’m shit at this. At saying things right. I always talk like an idiot when I’m... nervous.” You blinked. “You’re nervous?” Mingyu shrugged. “You make me nervous.” For a second, you just stared at him.  Then, you said, “Stay.” He looked up. “What?” You crossed your arms. “Stay. Talk. Don’t leave again acting like we both didn’t enjoy that and like we don’t enjoy spending time with each other.” He exhaled a long breath, then nodded. “For what it’s worth,” Mingyu said, voice suddenly softer, “you have nothing to be shy about.”

You held his gaze for a beat, then gave a small smile. “Look, we started this all in the wrong order. You wanted to be friends…”

“Friends,” Mingyu repeated, eyes flicking around the room before landing on a small red object.

“Is that what I think it is?”

You groaned. “Oh my god, can you not—”

“A vibrator?” he grinned, walking over to grab it. “In plain sight?”

“Give it back.”

“Or…” he smirked, turning it over in his hand. “I could show you how sorry I am?”

Your mouth went dry. “What happened to ‘just friends’?”

“We can start that tomorrow.”

That was all the warning you got before he was on you, kissing you like he meant it. You tugged him closer by his shirt, falling back onto the bed as he slipped his hand down and popped the button of your jeans. You kicked them off along with your panties. His knuckles grazed your slick folds.

“You’re still soaked,” he said against your lips, eyes flicking down your body like you were art.

He pulled your shirt over your head.

“Beautiful,” he murmured.

You smiled softly as he began kissing his way down, slow and reverent.

He turned the vibrator on and dragged it gently along your folds. “Shit,” you hissed, hips jerking as the cold metal touched your clit.

Without warning, he pushed two fingers inside you, curling just right as the vibrator buzzed against your swollen clit. The sensation was overwhelming—fast and dizzying, his fingers moving steadily, the toy pressed right where it needed to be.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” you whimpered, digging your nails into the sheets.

“Good girl,” Mingyu whispered. “You take my fingers so well.”

Your body trembled, your thighs starting to shake as the pleasure built.

You whimpered, eyes squeezing shut. “Please don’t stop.”

“Oh, I won’t,” Mingyu smirked, kissing the inside of your thigh as you fell apart on his hand.

He pulled his fingers out and raised them to his lips, sucking them clean with a satisfied hum.

“So… friends?”

You were still panting. “Yeah. Friends.” “Uh-huh.” He grinned. “Need help with that?” He nodded toward the very visible bulge in his pants.

You sat up slowly. “No thanks. That’s not what friends are for.”

“I’m saying no,” he said dramatically, “but it’s not my cock’s decision. He says yes.”

You giggled, giving his thigh a light slap.

Mingyu leaned in and kissed your forehead. “See you later, friend.”

You nodded, still dazed.

“Oh—by the way,” he added as he reached the door, “my housemates get back this weekend. We’re throwing a party. Chill night, drinks, people meeting people. Bring your housemates if you’re free?” You smiled, still trying to catch your breath.

“See you around, Gyu.”

He winked and closed the door behind him. ~~ Later that evening, you emerged from your bedroom to find Joshua smirking at you over a mug of tea. “What?” You asked, suspicious. He raised his eyebrows. “You moan loudly.” Your jaw dropped. “I was trying to keep it down!” “Yeah, no. Wonwoo thought you were a wounded animal at first.” You gasped, mortified. “I don’t moan that loudly.” Joshua gave you a pitying look. “You don’t think you do, but when you suppress it, it comes out like a dying banshee.” You groaned and dropped your head onto the counter. “Wait, did... Wonwoo hear?” Joshua nodded slowly, sipping his tea. “He might have been concerned for your well-being.” You rolled your eyes. “Great. Just great.” “So,” he said, voice light, “you and hot plant guy...?” “Friends,” you interrupted quickly. “We decided to just be friends.” Joshua arched a brow. “After that performance?” “It’s complicated. We don’t know each other well enough not to accidentally hurt each other.” Joshua tilted his head. “Wise.”

You sighed, pulling out your phone. “Still, I need to talk to Wonwoo.” “To apologise? You know you don’t owe him one; you do whatever you want and whoever you want.” “I don’t owe him an apology, but I could at least apologise for the noise,” you said. “But... yeah. Kinda feels like the decent thing to do.” You hovered outside Wonwoo’s door before knocking gently and peeking in. “Wonwoo?” He looked up from his book. “Yeah?” You gulped. He was in grey sweats and a white shirt, lounging like some kind of soft-focus fantasy. “You’re drooling,” he said with a smirk. You groaned and walked inside, flopping onto the bed beside him. “I came to say sorry.” He shut the book, raising an eyebrow. “For what? Your gorgeous moaning? If anything, I should apologize for interrupting it with my concern.” You hid your face behind your hands. “You’re unbearable.” “Relax. You don’t owe me an apology. We’re not dating.” “Still. It wasn’t to get back at you or anything. I was just... left very frustrated.” Wonwoo chuckled. “That was entirely my fault. Work called.” You tilted your head, your eyes softening. “Mingyu and I agreed to just be friends. No feelings. No strings. Which... honestly? Sounds like the safest plan.” He looked at you for a beat. “And what about me?” “I know you,” you said softly. “You wouldn’t hurt me.” Wonwoo didn’t respond. He just reached forward, tugging you until you were curled up against his chest.

“You left me horny,” you whispered, teasing. “I know. I’m sorry. You deserved better.” There was a long pause before he added, “So… you two are done?” You nodded. “Yeah.” “Then,” he said, his hand brushing lightly at the strap of your top, “What if I just, you know, carry on from what happened earlier? I did get rudely interrupted with a phone call, and I believe I owe you a kiss.” You laughed. “Oh, yes you do.” Wonwoo smirked. “Only if he can see how gorgeous you look right now.” You leaned in, your lips close to his. “Can you do something?” “Patience is a virtue,” he whispered. “It’s not one of mine.” He grinned. “Very true.” And then his lips were on yours—soft, slow, deliberate. When he finally pulled away, you were breathless. “I’ve got an article to finish,” you said reluctantly. “We’re good?” He asked. “We’re good.” You smiled, standing up. He smiled at you lazily, and you practically skipped back to your room.

~~  The next afternoon, you were in your local cafe, still stuck with the same five words you typed out yesterday on your laptop. However, you were laser-focused and attempting to write a new sentence about emotional risk versus reward when a voice interrupted you. “What is a ‘type,’ and why do we stick to it?” You nearly jumped out of your skin. “Mingyu! A warning would be nice!” He grinned as he slid into the seat across from you at the café table. “But you’re so jumpy—it’s adorable.” “Oh, please. Just sit, why don’t you.”

“I intend to,” he said, already making himself at home.

“So what brings you here? Stalking me?”

“I could ask you the same. Who sits in my usual spot with a laptop and sulks?”

“Writer’s block,” you admitted, closing your screen.

“Want to fix that?”

You narrowed your eyes. “How?”

Mingyu grinned. “We grab a drink and talk about our dumbest hook-ups.” ~~ The bar was buzzing with low chatter and clinking glasses as you and Mingyu sat across from each other in a cosy booth, the soft amber glow from the hanging lights making his eyes look even warmer. You were on your third cocktail of the afternoon, feeling just the right amount of tipsy to start leaning into the silly side of the conversation.

Mingyu was nursing a beer, his cheeks slightly flushed from the alcohol, or maybe it was just the comfortable atmosphere. You twirled your straw around in your glass before looking up at him with a playful grin.

“So, since we’re already a few drinks in,” you began, leaning forward conspiratorially, “I propose we play a game.”

Mingyu arched a brow, his lips twitching into a smile. “What kind of game?”

You took a sip of your drink before answering. “We trade stories. Dumb hookups, silly dates – basically all the weird romantic escapades that made us question humanity.”

Mingyu chuckled, taking a swig of his beer. “Alright, I’m game. But only if you go first.”

You mock-pouted. “Why me first?”

“Because you suggested it, and I’m curious,” he shot back, smirking.

Rolling your eyes, you thought back to your dating history, settling on one that still made you cringe. “Fine. So, there was this one guy I met on a dating app – let’s call him Jay. We went to this fancy rooftop bar, and I’m thinking, ‘Okay, this could be good.’ About thirty minutes in, he starts telling me about his extensive Funko Pop collection. Like, I mean... hundreds. And he insisted on showing me every single one through a photo album on his phone. At one point, he even teared up while talking about a limited edition Batman figure.”

Mingyu snorted into his beer, trying not to choke from laughing. “No way.”

“Yes way! And it got worse. At the end of the night, he asked me if I wanted to ‘meet them’ at his apartment. Like, not him – them.” You groaned, shaking your head at the memory. “I made some excuse about needing to water my plants and just bolted.”

Mingyu was practically wheezing at that point, wiping a tear from the corner of his eye. “You dated a Funko Pop guy. I’m never letting you live this down.”

You pointed at him. “Your turn, Mr. Judgy.”

He composed himself, taking a deep breath. “Alright. I went out with this girl from college once. Really pretty, seemed really cool. We went to a casual pizza place, and everything was great... until the food arrived. She took one bite, looked at me dead in the eyes, and said, ‘I think I might be a vampire.’”

You blinked, waiting for him to laugh, but he just stared at you, completely serious.

“Wait, what?” You finally said.

“Yeah,” Mingyu continued, leaning back against the booth. “She told me that eating anything but red meat made her feel sick, and she’s been craving ‘blood’ lately. She asked me if I’d ever wanted to bite someone, just to know what it tasted like.”

You couldn’t contain your laughter, practically folding over in the booth. “You’re lying.”

“I swear!” Mingyu said, holding up his hands defensively. “She kept making weird comments about how pale I was and how ‘good my veins looked.’ I never got out of a restaurant faster in my life.”

You wiped at your eyes, still giggling. “Okay, you win. That’s worse than the Funko Pop guy.”

Mingyu grinned, obviously pleased. “Yeah, I still get chills thinking about it.”

You leaned back, feeling a little more relaxed now that the conversation had taken a lighthearted turn. The music in the bar changed to something more upbeat, and you tapped your fingers against your glass.

“So, what about the serious ones?” Mingyu asked, his tone shifting slightly.

You paused, your smile faltering just a little. “You mean serious relationships?”

He nodded. “Yeah. You don’t have to answer if you don’t want to. Just... curious.”

You took a deep breath. “I was with someone for about a year and a half. Thought it was going somewhere real, you know? Turns out he was cheating on me for months. Found out through his phone – he was so careless; he didn’t even bother deleting the texts.”

Mingyu’s playful expression faded, his brows knitting together in concern. “That’s awful. I’m sorry.”

You shrugged, forcing a small smile. “It sucked at the time. Felt like my whole self-worth got thrown out the window. But I learned from it. Learned how to be a little more careful with my heart.”

He reached across the table, placing his hand over yours. The warmth of his touch grounded you, and you glanced up to see him giving you a small, reassuring smile.

“You didn’t deserve that. No one does,” he said softly.

You squeezed his hand back. “Thanks. I guess I’m still trying to figure out how to trust people again.”

Mingyu hesitated for a moment before speaking, “I guess I’ll have to be very careful then.”

You met his eyes, suddenly feeling a little exposed but in a good way, and giving him a soft smile not sure how to answer him. 

You took a second and then spoke. “And you? Any serious relationships?”

Mingyu hesitated, looking thoughtful. “There was one. A few years ago. We were together for almost two years, but we just... drifted apart. I guess I realized we were more comfortable than in love. It hurt, but it made me realize I don’t want to settle for just comfort. I want something real.”

You felt your heart soften at his honesty. “Yeah. I get that.”

The conversation hung between you, both of you wrapped in the honesty of the moment. The vulnerability, the ease of being real with each other – it made your stomach flip in a way you hadn’t felt in a long time.

Mingyu took a sip of his beer, his hand still holding yours, and you couldn’t help but think that maybe, just maybe, this could be the kind of real you both wanted. ~~ By the time you both left the bar, you were walking arm-in-arm. Your heels clicked against the pavement, your head light with wine and conversation. “Okay, I’ll admit,” you said, “this was fun.” “More than writing five words and calling it an article title?” You smacked his arm. “Rude but true.” “Come on,” he said, flagging down a cab. “My place. Pizza and Finding Nemo?” “Nemo?” “It’s a classic.” “Big baby.” “Don’t hate on soft men,” he said as the cab pulled up. “We cry, but we cuddle like champs.” You laughed all the way into the taxi. ~~ “Here you go,” Mingyu said, handing you a soft black shirt.

“Thanks.” You stood up to change without thinking, but froze mid-movement when you realized he was still watching you.

“Whoa—wow maybe warn a guy, I almost got blinded by your beauty?” His eyes were wide.

You paused, suddenly self-conscious. “Sorry, I just figured… I mean, you’ve seen everything before.”

“I’m not complaining,” he said, stepping toward you. “It’s a fantastic view.”

You smiled sheepishly as you peeled off your shirt. Mingyu took it gently from your hands and set it on the bed, his gaze still lingering but soft. When you moved to take off your jeans, he helped again—quiet, respectful, but definitely appreciating every second.

“Need another shirt?” He asked, catching your hesitation.

“No, I just… I’m wearing a very uncomfy bra.” “Then don’t,” he replied simply. You raised a brow at him. “Want to help me get it off?” His grin widened. “Weren’t we just trying this whole ‘friends’ thing?”

“Yeah,” you said, stepping closer, “and friends help each other.”

He didn’t need further convincing. His hands slid around your waist, pulling you into him. “That they do,” he murmured against your skin. His fingers moved up your back, undoing your bra clasp with practiced ease. The straps slipped from your shoulders like silk.

“Do you want me to fold this nicely with the rest of your clothes?” He teased, voice low and amused.

“Don’t push it,” you smirked.

“You’re cold,” he said, fingers grazing over your hardened nipples.

“Am not,” you muttered.

“Then are you turned on?”

You raised a brow. “And if I say no?”

“I’d find out anyway,” he murmured. “One finger, and I could prove it.”

You didn’t respond, just held his gaze.

Mingyu took that as permission. His hand slipped down your stomach, easing into your panties until a long finger slid inside you.

“You’re soaked,” he whispered.

You gasped as his finger curled just right. “Do you want to cum?”

You nodded quickly, eyes fluttering shut as his thumb found your clit.

He pulled his finger out with a sinful smirk. “Good. Then get on the bed.”

You climbed back onto his bed, legs slightly shaky. Mingyu knelt between your thighs and dragged your panties down in one smooth motion. His hands pressed your thighs open as he lowered his mouth to your core.

“Fuck,” you gasped when his tongue flicked your clit.

“Mingyu, wait—”

He immediately looked up, concern flashing in his eyes. “Too much?”

You shook your head, already lifting your leg to press against the hard line of his bulge. “No. I just—need you.”

His pupils darkened instantly. “You sure?”

You nodded. “Please fuck me.”

He made quick work of his belt and shirt, tossing them aside. “If I don’t eat you out, Wonwoo’s going to call me a selfish asshole.”

You groaned, laughing breathlessly. “Screw that. Just get in me.”

Mingyu climbed onto the bed, lined himself up with your entrance, and paused.

“Wait—condoms?”

“I have an implant.”

His eyes flicked to yours. “You sure?”

You nodded. “Mingyu. Please.”

“At least you said please,” he grinned, and then he pushed into you with a low groan.

You clung to his back, nails digging in slightly as he started thrusting. His rhythm was perfect—controlled, deep, toe-curling.

His fingers found your clit mid-thrust, rubbing in time with each snap of his hips. You clenched around him, moaning as your orgasm washed over you.

“Fuck,” he groaned, lowering himself to kiss you, forehead to forehead. “Can I—”

“Yes,” you breathed.

He groaned as he came, hips stuttering as he spilled into you. Your head lolled back, your entire body melting into the mattress.

“Amazing?” He asked softly.

“Stupid amazing,” you replied, still catching your breath.

“Get your pizza first! Your dick won’t fall off!”

You both froze at the shout. You blinked. “Who’s that?”

“One of my housemates, Seungcheol” Mingyu sighed. He quickly threw on his boxers and padded toward the door.

“Want to say hi?” “I’m naked.”

Mingyu grinned. “Well I’m half naked, just listen for the dramatics.”

You heard Seungcheol immediately yell, “Just boxers? Really? Why are you always half naked?”

You snorted, deciding to hop in the shower. After a quick rinse, you pulled on Mingyu’s shirt—it hung on you like a dress—and checked yourself in the mirror. Good enough.

You couldn’t stop smiling. “I’m going to grab some water, is that okay?” You asked Mingyu when he came back to his bedroom.

“Of course!” ~~ “Hi,” said a friendly voice as you padded into the hallway in Mingyu’s shirt.

You froze. A new stranger stood leaning against the kitchen counter, smiling at you. “You must be Y/N.”

You blinked. “I—uh. Hi.”

“I’m Seokmin,” he said, holding out his hand. “I’m one of three housemates here.”

You shook it, already feeling incredibly flustered. “Mingyu,” he called down the hallway, “have you heard of a shirt?” You groaned. Mingyu appeared behind you, still shirtless, holding two slices of pizza. “I have, but I’m sweaty.” “Fine, fine,” Seokmin waved him off. “Take care, kids. Use protection!” You turned around and buried your face in Mingyu’s chest. “Sorry about him,” he muttered.

“It’s fine,” you said, muffled. Back in his room, you both settled in with greasy pizza and fresh sheets. “I hope you don’t mind that I showered,” you said. “You smell like me,” he replied with a smirk. “I’m keeping the shirt.” “Figured.” A pause. “You’re beautiful,” he said, quieter this time. You looked over at him. “I mean it,” he added. “Not in a creepy way. Just... in case no one’s told you recently.” Your stomach fluttered. You smiled, leaning into his shoulder as the movie started to play. ~~ Sometime between the second pizza slice and the end credits of Nemo, you found yourself stretched out beside Mingyu, your body limp, skin still tingling from his touch. He propped himself up on one elbow, brushing damp hair from your cheek. “We okay?” You blinked up at him, surprised by the question. “Yeah. Why?” He sighed. “Just... you’re hard to read sometimes.” “You mean emotionally?” He nodded. “I’ve been told,” you said softly. “Hey, its not a bad thing, just means I got to work harder.” He leaned in and kissed your forehead, his action making you swoon. “Hey,” he said a moment later. “I meant it. About you being my type.” You scoffed. “You don’t even know me.” “I know enough to want to keep knowing you.” You swallowed. “Okay,” you said. He grinned, pulling you closer. “Movie round two? Or round two in a very different sense?” You smacked his chest, laughing. “Movie first.” But even as you said it, your fingers were already trailing lower.~~ When you woke up the next morning, Mingyu was already in the kitchen, humming along to a playlist and flipping pancakes. You walked in wearing nothing but his shirt. He looked up, spatula still in hand. “Hi, gorgeous.” You smiled sleepily. “Hi.” He pointed toward the coffee he’d already made. “Caffeine. And carbs.” You padded over and tiptoed to reach up and kiss his cheek. “Are you trying to spoil me?” “Nope,” he said, flipping another pancake. “Just bribing you to stay longer.” You took a sip of the coffee. “Bribery’s working.” He grinned. ~~ “New shirt?” Wonwoo’s voice made you jump as you stepped into the living room.

You turned slowly, adjusting the hem of your oversized shirt. “Yes?” He raised a brow. “Is it clean?” “It’s Mingyu’s.”

“Ah,” Wonwoo said, voice flat.

You squirmed a little under his stare.

“Didn’t realise you two were still...” he trailed off, but the tone said enough.

You sighed. “We’re not anything. Just... two adults with no self-control and shared pizza.”

He let out a breath, his arms crossed. “Right.” “You’re mad.” “I’m not.” “You are.” Wonwoo didn’t answer.

“Fine,” you said, heading toward the kitchen. “Be grumpy.”

“I’m not grumpy,” he said, following. “I just, whatever.”

“Wonwoo, don’t be like that.”

“I’m just saying, kissing me, and then sleeping with Mingyu, won’t that give both of us mixed signals?” You blinked. “Maybe, but he doesn’t know.” Silence. Wonwoo sighed. “Well, that can’t end well.” 

You dropped your arms to your sides. “This is exhausting, I don’t want to fight with you.”

“Then, don’t play both sides. Look, even if it’s early on, you and Mingyu have bonded quickly, and maybe it’s not such a bad thing. Besides, you want intimacy, and I’m not in a space in my life where I can give you exactly what you need to give you that.” The words hit like a slap, and your mouth opened, then shut. You turned away before he could see how much it stung.

~~ Later that evening, you sat on the rooftop of your apartment building, wrapped in Mingyu’s hoodie, a wine bottle tucked between your knees. The city sparkled in the distance, alive and unaware. “You okay?” Mingyu asked softly, stepping onto the rooftop. You nodded without turning around. “I’m great. Just airing out my emotional baggage.” He sat beside you, letting his thigh brush yours. “Want to talk about it?” “Nope.” “Want me to distract you?” You turned to face him. “You think distraction fixes everything?” “No,” Mingyu replied, smiling faintly. “But I’m really good at it.” You laughed. It was small, but it cracked through the ache in your chest. “I just got into an argument with Wonwoo,” you said quietly. “Why?” You sighed and began to speak.  “I guess just an overprotective roommate,” you said, not wanting to tell Mingyu everything just yet. Mingyu tilted his head, studying you. “Oh, maybe he’s just looking out for you but going about it in the wrong way.” Your chest tightened. “Yeah, I guess so.” “How’s this, anytime you feel blue, you can come over to mine, and talk? I can promise pancakes and zero judgment.” You smiled, leaning your head against his shoulder.

“Thank you, I really appreciate it.” Mingyu rested his chin on your hair. “Anytime.” ~~ A week passed. You wrote your article. He read three books. You shared meals, shared beds, shared soft smiles across busy rooms. But something was shifting. It wasn’t just about sex anymore; you two spent more time together, talked about more personal things, shared funny anecdotes, and sometimes you both would just cuddle, even if there was no sex. And that terrified you. ~~ “Y/N,” Wonwoo said one evening as you passed each other in the kitchen. “Can we talk?” You froze. “Now?” He nodded. “If you’re not too busy with Mingyu.” The words were laced with something—resentment? Pain? You leaned against the counter. “Uh..no I’m not. Look, I don’t want to keep fighting you on this. Besides, like you said, you can’t give me what I need, and all we did was just flirt and kiss once.” “I know, and believe me, I’m not mad at how we behaved with one another, but I’m worried. What if he hurts you?” “He won’t. I’ve been spending more time with him, and he’s just the sweetest.” Wonwoo met your eyes. “He better be. ” You swallowed. “He is.” A beat of silence. “Do you like him?” He asked. You blinked. “What? Of course I do, he’s such a sweet guy.” “No. Do you like him? In the sense that, do you have feelings for him?” You hesitated too long. “That’s what I thought,” he said quietly, walking away. You didn’t sleep that night. You kept thinking about the way Mingyu looked when he was reading in bed, or how he always remembered to bring you a drink without asking. The way he listened. The way he kissed you was like he was trying to memorise your soul. And the worst part? You were starting to fall for him. And that scared the life out of you. ~~ “You look like shit.” Joshua didn’t even glance up from his cereal when he said it. “Good morning to you, too,” you mumbled, grabbing a mug from the cupboard. He raised an eyebrow. “Rough night?” You poured coffee and took a long sip before answering. “Didn’t sleep much.” “Because of Mingyu? Or because of Wonwoo?” You froze, mug halfway to your lips. Joshua looked up now, spoon suspended midair. “You think I don’t notice things? Come on, Y/N. You’re not subtle.” You sighed. “It’s complicated.” He scoffed. “Love triangles usually are.” “It’s not a triangle.” “Sure. Just a very... emotionally charged V.” “Wonwoo and I spoke, and we cleared the air, okay?” You added, already tired from the conversation. Joshua grinned. “I know, I was eavesdropping when you guys were chatting.” You rolled your eyes at him. “Of course.”

“So what will you do about your very real feelings for Mingyu?” ~~ “Hey.” Mingyu’s voice was soft when he called you later that afternoon. “You okay?” You hesitated. “Yeah. Just tired.” There was silence on the other end, but you could hear the way he breathed—measured and patient, waiting for you to say more. “I had a weird talk with Wonwoo,” you said finally. “What kind of weird?” “He asked me if I liked you.” A pause. “What did you say?” “I didn’t.” Another pause. “Do you?” “I... don’t know.” You heard Mingyu let out a slow breath. “Okay.” “That’s all you’re going to say?” “I’m not going to force you into anything.” You swallowed. “But what if this—whatever this is—ruins things? Between all of us.” “Then let it,” he said quietly. “If we’re all pretending to be fine, nobody actually is.”

~~ Later that week, Seokmin knocked gently on your apartment door. “Hey, sorry, uh... weird question. Have you seen Mingyu?” You blinked. “No? Not today.” He nodded slowly. “He’s been... off.” You closed your laptop. “Off how?” Seokmin scratched the back of his neck. “Quiet. Moodier than usual. Like he’s trying to disappear.” Your chest tightened. “Thanks for telling me. I’m heading out later; maybe I’ll run into him where he usually hangs out?” Seokmin smiled, “Thank you. You really do know him quite well. I appreciate it.” You found him at the park. Curled up on a bench, camera in hand, lenses strewn beside him like offerings. He didn’t even look up when you approached. “You’ve gone full tortured artist,” you said, forcing a smile. Mingyu clicked the shutter. “It’s quieter out here.” You sat beside him. “You didn’t answer my texts.” “I didn’t know what to say.” You smiled softly at him, “Just be honest.” He glanced over. “I want you. But I don’t want to be the one holding you back from figuring things out.” “You’re not holding me back.” “But you’re still stuck.”

You exhaled. “Yeah. I am.”

“Then say that. Don’t kiss me and pretend everything’s fine.”

You looked away. “I’m scared, okay? This... feels like it could be something real. And if it ends, I don’t know how to walk away from that.”

Mingyu’s voice dropped. “Then don’t.”

You blinked at him.

“Don’t walk away.”

You stayed on that bench until the sun dipped below the skyline.

You talked about everything and nothing. About the time he dyed his hair orange in college. About your first heartbreak. About the stupid article you were writing on “types” and how maybe Mingyu didn’t fit yours but kept checking every box anyway.

By the time you got home, your fingers were intertwined with his, and neither of you wanted to let go.

“Y/N?” Wonwoo’s voice caught you at the door.

Wonwoo’s eyes dropped to your hands interlaced with Mingyu. “I see you two are fine?”

You opened your mouth. Closed it again.

“Interesting,” he said.

“Wonwoo, what are you—”

“Don’t worry,” he interrupted. Then, smiling, he said. “It’s fine, just be safe, you guys.”

You gave him a small smile, “Shut up.” ~~ That night, as you lay in Mingyu’s bed with your head on his chest, you couldn’t sleep. The silence between you was heavy, like it was holding its breath. “Mingyu?” “Hmm?” “If this ends badly... I don’t think I’ll survive it.” He kissed your forehead gently. “Then we make sure it doesn’t.”

~~ “You’re late.” Joshua said as you entered the apartment, arms crossed, eyes narrowed. “I didn’t realise I had a curfew,” you muttered, brushing past him into the apartment. “You said you were coming home after dinner.” You kicked off your shoes. “I changed my mind.” Joshua followed you into the kitchen. “So you spent the night at Mingyu’s again?” You grabbed a glass of water. “Can we not do this right now?” Joshua scoffed. “You said this was a casual thing.” “It was.” “And now?” You didn’t answer. He let out a bitter laugh. “So that’s a yes.” “Shua, I’m not asking for your permission—” “No,” he snapped, “but I am your friend. And watching you sleepwalk into something that’s going to rip you apart isn’t easy.” Your chest tightened. “You don’t know that.” “I know you. And I’ve seen how you get when you fall for someone.” You set your glass down a little too hard. “He’s not like the others.” “Maybe not. But you are someone who falls head over heels and more when you like someone, and I’m scared that one tiny misstep on his part will break you.” You didn’t text Mingyu that night. Or the next morning. Or the one after that. You needed space to think. To breathe. To figure out why everything felt like it was unravelling—when on the surface, things had never been more... perfect. So why did you feel so off?

~~ Three days later, Mingyu showed up at your door. “You avoiding me?” He asked, not bothering with hello. You stared at him. “I just needed time.” “Without telling me?” “I didn’t think I needed to give you a heads-up every time I took a breath.” Mingyu’s jaw flexed. “That’s not what this is about, and you know it.” You crossed your arms. “Then what is this about, Mingyu?” “You’re pulling away.” You stayed silent. Mingyu stepped closer. “You said this was real. That you wanted it.” “I did.” “And now?” You opened your mouth, then shut it because you didn’t know. Not really. Mingyu’s voice cracked. “You can’t keep doing this. Wanting me when it’s convenient. Pretending nothing’s changed.” “I’m scared, okay?” You snapped. “I don’t know how to do this. I don’t know how to be all-in without ruining everything.” His eyes softened for a moment. “So ruin it with me. Together.” You blinked, stunned. But before you could say anything, Wonwoo appeared behind you. “Hey, just checking—” He froze when he saw Mingyu. His expression shifted, cold and unreadable. “Oh. It’s you.” Mingyu’s eyes narrowed. “Nice to see you too.” You rubbed your temples. “Not now, please.” Wonwoo looked at you. “I’ll be in my room. Let me know if you want to talk. Or if you’re done letting him talk at you.” “Wow,” Mingyu muttered. “What’s his deal?” You turned on him. “Don’t.” “Don’t what? Point out the obvious?” “He’s trying to stand up for me.” “Right, and what am I doing? I’m just trying to get you to stand up for yourself, too.” You swallowed hard. “You should go.” Mingyu blinked. “What?” “I need space.” He didn’t move. Didn’t breathe. “Mingyu—” He stepped back, something shuttering in his face. “Right. Got it.” And just like that, he walked out. You shut the door and collapsed against it. Your chest ached in that specific, aching way that only happens when you push away something you want because you’re terrified you’ll destroy it. An hour later, your phone buzzed. Mingyu: I won’t chase you. But I’m not going anywhere either. You stared at the screen, heart thudding. Because that was the problem. He wasn’t going anywhere. And maybe that scared you more than anything. ~~ “You haven’t said anything in ten minutes,” Joshua pointed out, glancing at you from the other end of the couch.

“I’m thinking,” you replied, eyes fixed on the paused movie screen, not actually watching. He raised an eyebrow. “Dangerous territory.” You threw a popcorn kernel at him. “Ha-ha.” “Still no Mingyu?” “Nope.” “And that’s... good or bad?” You let out a long breath. “Confusing.” Joshua nodded slowly. “That tracks.” You finally looked at him. “Do you think I’m the problem?” He tilted his head. “Define ‘problem.’” “Do not make this worse.” He laughed under his breath. “Okay, look. You’ve had shit luck with relationships. You guard yourself. You get in your head. And yeah, sometimes you push people away before they can leave.” You blinked. “Damn. Don’t hold back.” “I’m just saying,” Joshua said, a little softer now. “Mingyu seems like the first guy who’s actually trying to stay. That scares the hell out of you, doesn’t it?” You didn’t answer. Later that night, you found yourself scrolling through photos. Pictures Mingyu had taken—blurry ones from the pub crawl, snapshots of street lights and half-smiles and candid moments. One of you laughing into a glass of wine. You hadn’t even known he’d taken that one. There was something about the way he saw the world. The way he saw you. Like he was already memorising you before he had the right to. Your heart ached.

~~ You couldn’t stop pacing. It had been a whole day since the fight, and your chest still felt tight. You hated fighting with Mingyu — it felt unnatural like the world was slightly off balance. You weren’t even sure how it had escalated so quickly. 

One moment you were just trying to be honest, saying you needed some space to process everything that had happened between you two. The next, Mingyu was snapping, clearly frustrated, saying it felt like every time you took a step forward, you took two steps back.

Now, you were standing in your living room, debating whether to go over and knock on his door. Joshua had already given you a pep talk, telling you to just be honest with Mingyu, but it still felt like walking into a lion’s den. You weren’t even sure what you’d say.

“Screw it,” you mumbled to yourself, throwing on an oversized hoodie and making your way to his door before you could second-guess yourself again.

You hesitated for a second before giving three firm knocks. You heard some rustling on the other side, and then the door opened, revealing a tired-looking Mingyu. His hair was tousled, and he was in a plain white tee and sweats, but his expression was guarded.

“What do you want?” He asked, his tone sharper than usual.

You swallowed hard, feeling your resolve falter. “Can I come in?”

He hesitated, eyes scanning your face, before he finally stepped aside and let you in. You walked to the living room, standing awkwardly by the couch while Mingyu stayed by the door, arms crossed over his chest. The silence stretched uncomfortably.

“Mingyu,” you started softly, twisting your fingers together. “I hate fighting with you.”

He huffed, looking away. “Yeah, well, I hate feeling like I’m being pushed away every time things start getting good.”

You bit your lip, gathering your thoughts. “That’s not what I was trying to do. I wasn’t trying to push you away.”

“Then what the hell was it?” He snapped, finally turning to look at you, his eyes a mixture of hurt and frustration. “You do all these things that make me feel like this could be something, then the next day you’re saying you need space? I don’t get it. Am I supposed to just keep guessing how you feel?”

You took a deep breath and moved closer, but kept a little distance. “I... I got overwhelmed. I thought that if I took a step back, I’d be able to figure out what I was feeling without dragging you into my mess.”

Mingyu looked at you incredulously. “You are such a hypocrite, you know that? You keep telling me to be honest with how I feel, to just say it when I’m upset or happy or whatever. And then you get overwhelmed and decide to push me away instead of telling me what’s going on in your head.”

The guilt gnawed at your stomach, and you looked down. “I know. You’re right. I’m... I’m scared.”

“Of what?” Mingyu’s voice softened, but he didn’t move closer.

“Of how much I like you. Of how much this means to me. Because if this goes wrong... it’s gonna hurt. A lot,” you whispered, tears stinging your eyes.

Mingyu sighed deeply, rubbing his face with one hand. “You’re not the only one who’s scared, you know. I’m terrified of screwing this up too. But you don’t see me trying to put distance between us every time things get intense.”

You sniffled, wiping at your eyes. “I’m sorry. I just... I didn’t know how to handle it. I never thought I’d care about someone this much again. I just panicked.”

Mingyu finally moved, taking a step toward you. “You can’t keep doing that. You can’t keep pulling back every time you get scared. I can’t take it. I’m all in with you, but I need you to meet me halfway. I can’t keep feeling like I’m chasing after you while you’re running in the opposite direction.”

You nodded, stepping closer until you were right in front of him. “You’re right. I know you are. I’m sorry I keep doing that. I just... I’m scared of losing you, so I keep pushing you away before you can leave on your own.”

Mingyu’s expression softened, and he uncrossed his arms, his hands hovering uncertainly before he cupped your face. “I’m not leaving. Okay? I’m not. You’re stuck with me.”

A small, shaky laugh escaped you, and you leaned into his touch. “I don’t want you to leave.”

He brushed his thumb over your cheek, wiping away a stray tear. “Then stop making it so hard to stay,” he whispered, his voice softer now, more tender.

You nodded, covering his hands with yours. “I’m sorry. I’ll do better. I promise.”

His lips quirked into a small smile, and without another word, he leaned down and pressed a gentle, almost hesitant kiss to your lips. You melted into it, your hands sliding up to his shoulders as his fingers curled into your hair. The kiss was slow, tender, like he was reassuring himself that you were really there, that you weren’t going anywhere.

When you pulled back, you couldn’t help but smile up at him, and Mingyu sighed, pressing his forehead to yours. “You’re really exhausting sometimes, you know that?”

You let out a soft laugh, nodding. “Yeah. But I’m worth it, right?”

He chuckled, finally wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling you close. “Yeah. You are. Just... stop running, okay?”

You buried your face in his chest, feeling his heartbeat under your cheek. “Okay. I’m done running.”

He pressed a kiss to the top of your head, his hold tightening around you. “Good. Because I’m not letting you go.”

You looked up at him, and this time you kissed him first, letting your lips linger on his, soft and unhurried. Mingyu hummed contentedly, his hands sliding up your back. The tension melted away, and for the first time in what felt like forever, everything felt right again.~~ 

The next morning, after showering at Mingyu’s apartment and changing, you kissed Mingyu several times, before you left his place, and walked across the hall into your apartment to find Joshua seated at the kitchen counter with a bowl of cereal and the look. “You smell like sex and regret,” he said, casually spooning cereal into his mouth. “Morning to you, too.” “Is that Mingyu’s shirt?” You ignored him, heading toward your room. “You know,” he called after you, “I’ve been holding off on the ‘told you so,’ but I’m getting real close to breaking.” You stuck your head out. “Don’t.” Joshua raised both hands. “Just don’t get in too deep if you’re not willing to commit to him. It’ll hurt you both if that happens.” You stared at him. “What if I already am?” He frowned, setting down his spoon. “Then I hope any potential heartache is worth it.” ~~ That afternoon, you curled up on the sofa with your laptop. Article deadline looming. Blank document open. Brain, fried. It wasn’t until Mingyu texted that something sparked: Mingyu: What’s your favourite love story? You stared at the screen. You: Fictional? Mingyu: No. Real. You: Mine hasn’t been written yet. Mingyu: What if we wrote it together? Your chest did that stupid fluttering thing again. Like your heart had gone off-script. You smiled. You: Bold of you to assume you’d make the final draft. Mingyu: You keep rewriting the intro, babe. I’m just trying to stay on the page. You bit your lip, closing the chat. And just like that, your fingers flew across the keyboard. Because suddenly, you had something to say. ~~ Two days later, you knocked on Mingyu’s door with with snacks in attempt to bribe him to edit your lastest draft. 

He opened it with sleepy eyes and messy hair, wearing a hoodie that had no business looking that good. “Morning beautiful,” he greeted with a warm smile. You smiled, and held up a USB. “I wrote a my final draft of my most recent article, do you want to help me edit?” Final draft. No red pen needed.”

“Is that why you have snacks?” He asked already smiling. You grinned “Maybe.” “Well in that case, get in here, Hemingway,” he teased, stepping aside to let you in. You watched him read it from across the room. He didn’t say anything for a long time. Just kept scrolling, eyes focused, mouth slightly parted.

When he finished, he looked up. “That last line… ‘a spark can form the most unusual of places and encounters’.” You tilted your head. “Too much?” He shook his head. “No. It’s perfect.” You smiled softly. “It’s about you.” “I figured,” he said, walking over, “but it still wrecked me.” You leaned against the counter. “Good. That’s what great writing does.” He stepped closer. “So, does this mean you’ll fight for us?” “I think so.” He grinned. “Good, that’s all I can ask for.” “I think you already are.” And as he kissed you—slow, deliberate, familiar in all the right ways—you let the weight fall from your shoulders. Because maybe this wasn’t the start of a love story. Maybe it was the chapter where things stopped being a fantasy… ...and finally started feeling real. ~~ “You’ve been quiet all evening.” You glanced up from your wine glass. Mingyu was stretched out on the other side of the couch, hoodie sleeves bunched around his forearms, watching you with careful eyes. “I’m thinking.” “That’s dangerous,” he teased, but his smile didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Want to talk about it?” “I don’t know how.” He nodded like he understood—but you could tell it still stung. You shifted in your seat. “What are we doing?” Mingyu blinked. “What do you mean?” “This thing. Us. It’s not just sex anymore.” “No, it’s not.” “And we’re not exactly friends either.” “I’m okay with not having a label,” he said. “Are you?” You looked down at your glass. “I want to be.” “But you’re not.” “I’m scared that if I name it, I’ll ruin it.” Mingyu sat up slowly. “You think love ruins things?” “I think people do.” That hit harder than you intended, and you both knew it. Later, when he kissed you, it was slow and sweet, like he was trying to remind you it didn’t have to be scary. You kissed him back with everything you had. And maybe that was the problem. Because giving someone everything? It meant they had the power to break you. ~~ The following day, the tension hadn’t left. You both pretended it had. You made breakfast. He teased you for burning the eggs. You laughed too loudly. He smiled too easily. But the silence between the sentences was deafening. When he finally left, the apartment felt too quiet. And when Joshua came home, he took one look at you and sighed. “Okay. Spill.” You sank onto the sofa. “I think I’m falling for him.” Joshua’s eyes widened; he never thought you’d admit it so quickly, but he didn’t interrupt. “And I don’t know if I’m ready.” He sat beside you, unusually serious. “Then don’t rush it. But don’t run from it either.” “I’m not running.” “You’re limping away at full speed.” You groaned. “God, you’re annoying when you’re right.” He smiled and bumped his shoulder against yours. “I only pull it out when necessary.” ~~ It was one of those quiet evenings, the kind where the city seemed to take a collective breath. You were on your way back from the grocery store, bags in hand, when you spotted Mingyu standing just outside your apartment building. At first, the sight of him made you smile – he was leaning against the railing, his broad shoulders relaxed, his profile illuminated by the soft glow of the street lamp.

But then you noticed he wasn’t alone.

A girl stood in front of him, long hair cascading over her shoulders, wearing a fitted leather jacket and heels that clicked against the pavement. She was laughing at something he said, her hand brushing his arm lightly. Your steps faltered, and you instinctively took a step back, ducking behind the edge of the building.

Your heart clenched, a weird mix of confusion and something dangerously close to jealousy settling in your chest. You couldn’t help but feel stupid – why did it bother you so much to see him with someone else? It wasn’t like you had a claim on him. But there was something about how effortlessly beautiful she looked, how easily she made him laugh, that made your stomach twist uncomfortably.

A million questions ran through your mind. Did he know her from work? Was she just a friend? Or worse, an ex? You couldn’t help but notice how naturally he smiled at her, the way he leaned down to hear her better, his hand brushing back his hair the way he did when he was feeling a little self-conscious. You felt like a complete idiot, rooted to the spot, irrationally annoyed at how close they seemed.

You peeked around the corner, just enough to see her lean in a bit closer, her hand lingering on his arm. Mingyu seemed a little uncomfortable, glancing down at her hand before giving her a polite smile. They exchanged a few more words that you couldn’t quite hear, and then she waved, heading off down the sidewalk.

You waited until she was out of sight before stepping back out, trying to act natural. You kept your gaze on the ground as you made your way to the entrance, but of course, Mingyu spotted you instantly.

“Hey!” He called out, jogging over to you.

You forced a smile, not quite meeting his eyes. “Hey.”

He seemed to hesitate, studying your face. “What’s up? You okay?”

“Yeah, just tired,” you mumbled, shifting the grocery bag to your other hand.

Mingyu frowned, stepping closer. “Are you sure? You seem... off.”

You forced yourself to meet his gaze, offering a small smile that felt too tight. “Yeah, just a long day.”

He didn’t look convinced. “Here, let me help.” Before you could protest, he took one of the bags from your hand, his fingers brushing yours. The familiar warmth made your heart ache, and you bit your lip to keep your expression neutral.

As you walked inside, you couldn’t help but feel silly for feeling so... possessive. You weren’t even sure why it hit you so hard. Sure, Mingyu had been flirty with you, and you had shared some intense moments, but did that really mean he wasn’t allowed to have other girls around? 

Your mind kept replaying the way the girl leaned into him, her bright, carefree laugh, and the way Mingyu didn’t immediately step away. You hated how insecure it made you feel, and even more so how your mood had completely flipped.

When you reached your apartment, Mingyu put the bags on the kitchen counter and turned to you, concern etched into his features. “You’re incredibly cute when you’re grumpy, but I must still ask, why did you storm off when I called your name?” Mingyu stood in your doorway, his tone curious.

“I didn’t think you’d notice.”

“Of course I noticed.”

You crossed your arms, heart thudding. “You seemed busy.”

Mingyu scoffed. “What does that mean?”

“You were laughing. With some girl.”

“Seokmin’s cousin?”

You looked away. “Does it matter?”

“It does when you weaponise jealousy against me.”

Silence stretched between you like a taut wire ready to snap.

“I wasn’t trying to hurt you,” you whispered.

“But you did.”

You met his eyes. “So did you.”

He sighed, stepping back. “We were supposed to be honest. About what we wanted. About how we felt.”

“You said we didn’t need labels.”

“I didn’t think that meant lying to ourselves.”

Your voice cracked. “I wasn’t lying.”

“No?” He said, eyes searching yours. “Then tell me you don’t care about me.”

You blinked.

Tell him.

Say it.

But you couldn’t.

Because it wasn’t true.

And silence was the loudest answer of all. ~~ You didn’t speak for a week. No texts. No knocks on the door. No laughter through the walls.

It was excruciating. Even Joshua stopped teasing you.

“You okay?” Joshua asked one night, quietly.

You nodded. He didn’t press.

You sat at your laptop, staring at the blinking cursor. You hadn’t written a single word since the argument with Mingyu. It was as if you had lost your muse.

Worse—you might’ve lost him too. ~~ Another three days passed. You were walking home, umbrella flipping inside out in the wind, when you saw it: A plant. Sitting on your doorstep. A bonsai.

With a tiny note taped to the pot.

“Joshua told me you don’t like when plants have human names, but Lydia 2.0 says she misses you. -M”

You stared at it. Then you cried. Not a pretty, cinematic cry. A real one. Messy. Gutting. Cathartic. Because it wasn’t about the plant. It was about the space he left—and how much of you still lived in it. You knocked on his door the next day. No answer. You knocked again. Then again.

Finally, the door opened. Mingyu stood there, in a hoodie and sweatpants, eyes tired, expression guarded. 

You held up the note. “You’re still annoying, you know that?”

“Glad to know I still have that effect.”

You exhaled. “Can we talk?”

He stepped aside. You both sat on the floor. No pretence. No distance. Just you two, knees touching.

“I miss you,” you admitted.

Mingyu nodded. “I missed you, too.”

“I panicked,” you confessed. “I didn’t know how to handle what I was feeling, and I ran. I always run.”

“And I push,” he said. “When I want something, I push hard for it.”

You looked at him. “This thing between us... it’s not just physical anymore.”

“No,” he said softly. “It’s not.”

You reached for his hand. “So what now?”

He didn’t hesitate. “Now, we start over. No rules. No games. Just us.”

You bit your lip. “And if I mess up again?”

“Then I’ll remind you why you chose me the first time.”

You laughed through your tears. “You’re really good at that, you know?”

Mingyu smiled, leaning forward until your foreheads touched.

“Let’s just take it slow,” you whispered.

He nodded. “Slow sounds perfect.”

And in the quiet of his apartment, with your hand in his and hope blooming in the wreckage. You realised this wasn’t a new chapter. This was the real beginning. ~~ “So, what’s the plan for the housewarming?”

Mingyu’s voice drifted through the doorway as you padded into his kitchen, still half-asleep in your oversized T-shirt, hair sticking up in odd angles. You squinted at him, blinking the sleep out of your eyes.

“What housewarming?” You mumbled, fumbling for your mug and the coffee pot.

Mingyu gave you a lopsided grin. “The one I said we should do this some time next weekend? Seokmin and Seungcheol hyung are finally settled in. So I was planning to invite some of our friends, it’d be a nice way for everyone to see the new place, and we can also invite your housemates too?”

You took a long sip of coffee, the caffeine finally beginning to wake you up. “Oh. Yeah, sounds good. Just drinks and stuff?”

“Yeah, keep it chill—drinks, music, maybe a game or two if Seokmin gets bored enough,” Mingyu replied, leaning back against the counter with that casual confidence of his.

You raised an eyebrow. “You know Seokmin’s going to demand karaoke. Are you prepared for that chaos?”

Mingyu snorted. “I’m mentally preparing. I’ll make sure we have enough soju to tolerate his high notes.”

You laughed, shaking your head. “Sounds like a solid plan. Who’s handling the drinks and snacks?”

He gave you a thoughtful look. “I’ll handle the drinks, you take care of the snacks? That way I don’t accidentally buy a bunch of instant ramen and call it party food.”

You chuckled, nudging him lightly with your elbow. “Yeah, that’s probably a good idea. I’ll make a list. You’ll just have to carry all the bags.”

Mingyu smirked. “That’s what I’m here for—manual labor and looking pretty.”

You rolled your eyes, but couldn’t help the fond smile tugging at your lips. “You do one of those things better than the other.”

He made a face. “Wow, that’s harsh. I’ll have you know, I can carry all the groceries in one trip.”

“Sure, Hercules,” you teased, pouring yourself another cup of coffee. “Are you inviting everyone from the building or just the usual crowd?”

“Just the usual. Maybe a few others from the floor if Seokmin gets carried away. You know how he is—an introverted social butterfly in a chaotic package,” Mingyu replied, shaking his head fondly.

You hummed in agreement. “I’ll handle the playlist then. Can’t trust you to not play EDM the whole night.”

Mingyu put a hand to his chest, feigning offense. “I have taste, okay? Just because I like a good bass drop doesn’t mean I can’t appreciate your acoustic love songs.”

You rolled your eyes. “I swear, if I hear one remix of a ballad, I’m kicking you out of your own party.”

He laughed, giving you a soft look. “Deal. I’ll keep it classy. Promise.”

As you both continued planning, Mingyu pulled out his phone, showing you a few decoration ideas. You couldn’t help but notice how excited he seemed about hosting—how he wanted everything to be perfect. It was endearing, really.

“So, we’ll get some fairy lights, right?” Mingyu asked, scrolling through a list of supplies.

You nodded. “Definitely. Maybe some cute string lights too, for the balcony. And I’ll put together a few cocktail recipes—something easy for people to mix themselves.”

Mingyu grinned. “You know, we make a pretty good team.”

You smiled, feeling a flutter in your chest. “Yeah, we do.”

He leaned closer, his eyes crinkling at the corners. “Just make sure you save a dance for me, alright? Even if Seokmin’s singing ‘I Want It That Way’ at the top of his lungs.”

You snorted. “I’ll consider it—if you promise to at least try not to drink every cocktail I make.”

Mingyu chuckled, brushing a stray strand of hair out of your face. “No promises. Your drinks are dangerously good.”

You gave him a soft smile, warmth spreading through you at his touch. As the two of you continued planning, you couldn’t help but think that this housewarming wasn’t just about the new place—it was about starting something new between the two of you, too.

~~ You were sitting on the living room couch, scrolling through your phone when you heard the front door open. Wonwoo stepped inside, holding a takeout bag, his shoulders looking a little less tense than usual after a long day at work. You looked up and gave him a small smile as he kicked off his shoes.

“Long day?” You asked, setting your phone down.

Wonwoo nodded, letting out a quiet sigh. “Yeah. Presentation ran over time, and then the client had about a thousand questions.”

You gestured for him to sit next to you, and he plopped down on the couch, stretching his legs out. “Well, I’ve got some news that might cheer you up,” you said, a hint of excitement in your voice.

Wonwoo raised an eyebrow, smirking. “What now? You won the lottery or something?”

“Better,” you grinned. “There’s a party this weekend. Mingyu and his roommates are hosting a housewarming.”

Wonwoo gave you a skeptical look. “A party? At Mingyu’s place?”

“Yep,” you confirmed. “Seokmin and Cheol are finally settled in, and Mingyu thought it’d be a good idea to invite everyone over. Drinks, music, probably some weird games if Seokmin has anything to say about it.”

Wonwoo snorted, shaking his head. “Sounds chaotic. But it could be fun.”

You nodded. “Exactly. Plus, it’s a good way to get to know everyone better. I already told Mingyu we’d be there.”

He gave you a sideways glance. “You sure about that? Joshua’s been swamped lately. Don’t know if he’ll be up for it.”

You mock pouted at him. “Come on Wonwoo, please?” “Fine, against my better judgement, fine.”

Wonwoo took a breathe and gave you scrutinising look. “So... what’s the deal with you and Mingyu?”

Your smile faltered slightly. “What do you mean?”

He crossed his arms, clearly not letting this go. “I mean, you’re now planning a party together? Isn’t that something incredibly couple like? Are you two a thing now or what?”

You hesitated, not sure how to put it into words. “We’re... figuring things out. It’s not really labeled or anything.”

Wonwoo’s eyes narrowed, clearly not satisfied with that answer. “You sure you’re not rushing into something? You haven’t really known him that long.”

You bristled slightly. “It’s not like that. We’re just spending time together, seeing where it goes.”

“Spending time, huh? You know that’s how people get feelings right?” Wonwoo said cautiously.

You frowned. “I’m not some lovesick idiot, you know. I know how to take care of myself.” Wonwoo raised his hands in surrender. “Hey, I’m just looking out for you. I’ve you get hurt and cry over idiots, I don’t want crying over yet another guy.”

Your stomach twisted at his words, a tiny seed of doubt planting itself despite your best efforts to ignore it. “Mingyu’s not like that, he’s kind, warm and compassionate.”

Wonwoo gave you a half-smile. “You sure not love sick?”

You didn’t know how to respond, so you just nodded. Wonwoo gave your shoulder a reassuring squeeze before heading to his room.

Left alone with your thoughts, frustration bubbled under your skin. You didn’t want to doubt Mingyu, but Wonwoo’s words kept bouncing around your head. To dispel the tension, you found yourself cleaning the living room with more force than necessary, wiping down the coffee table and fluffing the pillows like they’d personally offended you.

After vacuuming the floor and reorganizing the bookshelf twice, you stopped to catch your breath, realizing how ridiculous you were being. You were annoyed—not just with Wonwoo, but with yourself for letting his words get to you. You couldn’t help it. Mingyu made you feel safe, seen and cared for, and Wonwoo’s word sowed a seed of worry in your mind. 

The sound of a knock at the door pulled you out of your thoughts. You opened it, and there stood Mingyu, leaning against the frame with a casual smile.

“Hey, the apartment door was open,” he greeted, his voice soft.

“Hey,” you replied, trying to muster a smile.

Mingyu’s eyes roamed the room, noticing the freshly cleaned space. “Wow. Did you go on a cleaning spree?”

You shrugged. “Just needed to do something to clear my head.”

He gave you a curious look, his smile fading a bit. “Something on your mind?”

You bit your lip, debating whether to bring up what Wonwoo said. “Just... thinking about stuff.”

Mingyu stepped closer, his hand reaching out to tuck a loose strand of hair behind your ear. “If you need to talk, I’m here.”

Your heart squeezed at the simple, sincere gesture. You leaned into his touch, letting out a long breath. “It’s nothing, really. Just overthinking, I guess.”

He cupped your cheek gently, his thumb brushing your skin. “You sure? I don’t like seeing you stressed.”

You nodded, leaning into his touch. “I’m fine. Just... needed a distraction.”

Mingyu’s lips quirked up in a gentle smile. “I’m good at distractions.”

You couldn’t help but laugh, the tension easing from your shoulders. Mingyu’s presence had a way of making the chaos in your mind feel a little quieter.

“Stay?” You whispered.

He leaned in, his forehead resting against yours. “Always.”

You let out a small sigh of relief, and without thinking, you closed the distance between your lips, kissing him softly. Mingyu responded immediately, his hands slipping to your waist, pulling you closer. The kiss was slow, unhurried—like he was taking his time to reassure you that he wasn’t going anywhere.

When you finally pulled back, Mingyu gave you a soft smile, brushing his nose against yours. “Feel better?”

You smiled, your heart fluttering in your chest. “Yeah. A lot better.”

Mingyu pressed a lingering kiss to your forehead before pulling you into a warm hug. You closed your eyes, letting the comfort of his embrace push away the doubts that had threatened to take over.

[haologram]

pink stationery ❤️‍🩹 w.jh

synopsis: everything with junhui has been a step towards something, but neither of you are very clear on what when it comes to the other. genre: co-workers to lovers ; angst, fluff. pairing: office worker!wen junhui x fem!reader word count: 7.9k rating: 18+. minors do not interact. warnings: it's stupidly vague and i'm sorry for that. minimal swearing, i guess? mentions of eating and food. they're just stupid what to listen to: starstarstar - dosii ; take me - miso ; say yes - seventeen ; heart burn - sunmi ; i was made for lovin' you - kiss. author's note: i'm going to be honest, i've been having a really hard time with life and i just wanted to write something regardless of deadlines and expectations. i also don't care if it makes sense, i just wanna write. i love my collabs, though, and they will get done. i just want to be vague and mysterious and stupid for a moment in time and not worry. welcome our beloved junhui to the haologram blog <3 i've missed him so dearly. [star dividers] by @/saradika-graphics here on tumblr, and thank you to cam for the bar name! enjoy!

HE SMELLS LIKE LUMBER SOMETIMES.

He smells like the tree trunks he chops for firewood at his cabin on the weekends, and he picks up pinecones. He dusts them off and examines them, and the best one is always promptly delivered to your desk by lunchtime on Monday afternoons. 

That was the extent of your relationship with him, and really, any of your co-workers. He’d never spoken a word to you (not that you could remember, anyway) but has somehow figured out that you like pinecones. Particularly not ones that smell like cardboard boxes from the home section at Marshall’s. 

No one speaks to you unless they need something, and rarely does someone need something from you as a person. 

No invitations to drinks after work – you see them enough as it is. You hang up on remote meetings without saying much of anything, and you’re usually the first to leave the call without so much as a goodbye. Your emails and short and dry, signed off with only your name. You avoid the catered lunches provided by whatever restaurant your company paid out and stick to wedging yourself into the sixth-floor storage room with your package of fruit snacks and a sad turkey sandwich. There was a pink chair in the corner that you liked and tried multiple times to convince Mike (the janitor) to let you have but he refused. 

You do not make eye contact during breaks, and you don’t stop by the break room for coffee or complimentary muffins. You lied about why once, when you were asked by a coworker – and absently claimed a gluten allergy, only to be seen eating bread a few hours later. That coworker hasn’t spoken to you since, and you don’t think she plans to. 

But him? 

He started talking about two years ago, a year after you joined the company. He started talking too much, you could argue, but he would say it’s just enough. 

He’s too friendly, you thought. He dropped by your desk with a warm cup of tea every morning, if not your precious Monday morning pinecone. He slid a soft, lemon-blueberry muffin under your nose with a soft smile every once in a while. He asked you to lunch, to drinks, and he always sent you a separate follow-up email after remote meetings when he could very well just add your tasks to the bottom of the mass list he always sends in the group mail. 

He was just above you on the corporate ladder, but you felt no pressure to answer him in terms of social interaction. He didn’t make it a point, either – he just existed in your vicinity, and only came into your space when you allowed. Quite like a cat, you are. 

He told you about his life, quietly, calmly. He told you about how he learned wushu growing up, and how he played piano. He told you about how he got the cabin as a gift from a friend who was moving abroad, unlikely to return and much less spend time in the quiet woods surrounding your town. He told you about his late-night snacking habit, about his cat, Luna. He told you about his best friend, Minghao, and how he was the best man at his wedding a few years ago. 

But above all? 

He listened to you.  

He looked at you like every word from your mouth held weight, carefully nodding along to your mumbled stories of troubled childhood. He listened to you talk about your favorite dish, your favorite color, even your theories about how middle children suffer the most. He laughed at your wry jokes, the dry humor – though he would bite it back at the deadpan comments you’d make during department meetings. 

He always sat next to you in those department meetings. His knee was always just barely brushing yours, the soft material of his slacks making your skin prickle as it touched your bare thigh. He’d pass you doodled notes on his pink stationery with My Melody on the edges. He always adjusted the hem of your skirt down subtly when you stood up and pushed your chair in after you skirted around it. He waited until you’d gathered all your materials to leave, walking alongside you back to your desk even if his was across the office. 

And it made people wonder what about you had his attention so deeply. 

You’re not interesting to any of them, you never had been. You’re a liar (about a gluten allergy, of all things) and the kind of quiet that made them feel stupid if you looked at them for too long. They felt like you were judging them, when really – you were hoping they’d speed up their long-winded questions to end the painfully awkward social aspect of you fixing their problems. 

Sometimes, he’d send you home early to help you escape their judging eyes. 

He’d send you an email – the subject line usually only taken up by “🏠?” The body usually contained nothing more than a new picture of Luna, but you always appreciated it. 

He’d be looking over the edge of his monitor to watch you hear the dreaded Outlook ding, your eyes slightly lighting up at the sound before really brightening the moment you saw it was him. You’d look over the edge of your monitor, raising a brow that didn’t hide your shy smile as you sent him an email back before quietly packing your bag and slipping out of the office. 

It was always just a meme you’d found during your lunchtime Pinterest scroll – one you’re sure he’d seen you add to your shared board. 

Because, of all things, he’d chosen to first share his Pinterest with you. You saw his dream home, vintage cars, cool jewelry and the stupid memes he liked you send you in the middle of the night when he was thinking of you. 

You still reread that text, he sent it over a year ago. 

MESSAGE FROM: Wen Junhui ♡  [2:32AM] of course i think about you.  [2:33AM] i think about you all the time. after breakfast, when you try to sneak out of the office to hide in that storage room upstairs. even outside of work, sometimes i see things i think you’d like. but i mostly think about you now.  [2:34AM] i think it’s a comfort that you pass my mind before i go to bed. or maybe just an association i've made with the fact that i check our board every night to see if you’ve added anything.  [2:35AM] but...i prefer the former, honestly. goodnight, y/n. sleep well. ♡ 

You added the little heart to his contact name that same night. 

Granted, things between you and him never went further. He talked to you, he walked with you around the office, he gave you many ways to contact him outside of work even if you never texted him first. He shared moments of his day with you if you missed work or worked from home – which was rare and always worried him. He would send pictures of a lone pinecone sitting on your mousepad if you weren’t there when he delivered it, followed by whatever random emoji he felt fit the mood. Sometimes it was a hazelnut, sometimes it was a cat. 

Sometimes, it was the heart wrapped in a bandage. 

You tried not to overthink it. 

But it was hard not to notice the whispers about him. 

How a lot of your coworkers talked about him, and how cute he is. How sweet, smart, gentle. How he’s soft-spoken until he’s around his friends, even though you knew that his best friend was just as soft spoken. He worked two floors down, Xu Minghao. 

You met Minghao and his wife (and the rest of their shared friends) the first time you were ever invited out for drinks – and the first time you ever hesitated to say no. 

Junhui managed to get you right in the nick of time, too – right as the clock struck five. You hadn’t even gotten a chance to log out of your programs when he leaned over the wall of your cubicle with a twinkle in his eye that made your chest ache. 

“Have a drink with me. My friends are coming, too, but you know. I’ll be there.” 

And you had more than a drink – you had a good time. You had three blood orange margaritas and a sip of his beer, but it was like you were shining brighter than a million suns. You let yourself sink into the soft vinyl of the booth, surrounded by him and his scent and his friends. You let yourself talk, out loud and with gusto about everything. You were uninhibited, and you remember how they all warmly smiled as Junhui pushed your hair out of your eyes as you talked about how there was no way the megalodon shark was extinct. 

He walked you home that night, the two of you a little too tipsy to navigate the train or drive. He walked on the sidewalk closest to the street and held your pinchy heels in his fingers, letting you skip around and complain about the humidity. He only smiled, his hip bumping yours every once in a while, when you swayed a bit too far. 

When you got back to your apartment, he waited against the railing in front of your doorstep to watch you step inside. You remember hesitating before asking him if he wanted to come in for a nightcap. 

His eyes widened, and for a moment – he considered it. You saw how his eyes flickered to your lips, before he cleared his throat. 

“Maybe another night. Thank you for coming out with me tonight, I hope it wasn’t too overwhelming.” 

It hadn’t been, but his soft rejection was certainly disappointing. You shook your head then, staring at him for a split second more before speaking. 

“It was nice. I’d...I’d like to do it again, sometime. Just us.” 

You smiled softly, before giving him a curt nod and slipping into your apartment before he could respond. You leaned against the door, sliding down the cool wood before hearing him utter a soft goodnight. 

Since then, the two of you had gone for drinks over and over again – just the two of you, and with his friends. When it was just you, he’d talk about everything and anything under the sun. But when it was with his friends? 

They really liked you, enjoying the excitement that they never saw in the office. One of them, Kwon Soonyoung in finance, offhandedly mentioned that they hadn’t known you and Junhui were friends until he started mentioning you at random moments. Your face had felt hot as the rest of them giggled and agreed, with Minghao’s wife letting it slip that ‘random moments’ meant any time he could. 

“Yeah, he brings you up a lot. Oh, Y/N likes this. Y/N would love that. Y/N, Y/N, Y/N. It’s so cute.” 

You don’t remember Junhui refuting it, but you remember the flustered blush that settled in his cheeks after that. Things between you and him didn’t change, though.  

Until they did – one month, three days later, Junhui got a girlfriend. 

It was like he had vanished entirely – gone were the warm cups of tea on your desk, the muffins, the pinecones. No more invites to lunch or drinks with him or his friends. No longer did you receive emails asking if you wanted to go home early, no more pictures of Luna, no more separate follow-up emails outlining your tasks after remote meetings. 

None of it really bothered you, until you realized that your shared board hadn’t been updated by him in a while. Then, you noticed it, truly – he'd unfollowed you. Pinterest, Instagram, even Spotify. Spotify! 

He didn’t sit next to you at department meetings, either. No more passed notes, no more pushing your chair in. And he rushed out right after, not bothering to even speak to you. 

And people noticed. 

You hadn’t realized that by allowing yourself to associate with Junhui and his friends, you became more than a blip on people’s radar. People knew your name; they knew your face. The girls gossiped about what he could possibly see in you, unaware that you were reapplying deodorant in one of the stalls. Men speculated about your relationship status, wondering amongst themselves if you were open-minded – while they stood outside for a smoke, making you scrunch your nose in disgust at them for more reasons than one. 

People knew you – his friends, still said hello in the hallways. Minghao, gave you warm smiles and extended invites to drinks that you’d swiftly decline – with excuses of working late, of being tired, or whispering that time of the month. He always nodded, smiled...but you knew he didn’t believe you. 

Once you realized Junhui was avoiding you for what you believed was a girlfriend, it took you less than twelve hours to get back to your reserved demeanor. As long as you didn’t make noise in your cubicle, no one came around – and people realized then that your gaze wasn’t mean to intimidate or judge, but to time. You didn’t want to talk to anyone you didn’t have to, more than you needed to – and that was bothersome to most of them. 

Of course it was; in their minds, they’re great. 

They’re a catch, they’re fun to be around. 

But they’re not him. 

They’ve never cared to ask you a single thing about yourself beyond your relationship status and where you got your shoes. You always just stared until they left or mumbled something about the local DSW. 

Things with him never returned to the easy friendship you thought was starting to form, even as you rung in the new year at the company party. It made you sad. 

Maybe because you had a bit of a crush on him, actually. 

You thought a little too hard about the meanings behind his messages, the pictures of his weekend retreats to his cabin that he insisted you were always welcome at, especially if his friends were there. You missed the shared memes, the shared playlists, the way he’d sometimes find you inside the sixth-floor storage room, sitting on the dusty pink chair that always made him smile a little too fondly. 

You liked Junhui, more than just a cubicle crush that you could discuss with your girlfriends that you didn’t have. 

But he had one. One that meant more to him than you ever would, even with the way he opened his heart to you. 

You thought about what he shared with you – videos of him playing the piano at Minghao’s wedding for his first dance with his wife. He shared his presence and comfort, often walking you home and your hands always brushed. You felt like a schoolgirl every time you’d tuck your hand into your pocket. You once got caught in the rain together and stood under the bus stop before he fished his headphones out of his pocket and gave you one. 

He played starstarstar by Dosii as he pulled you out from under the safety of the bus stop, and the two of you walked to your apartment instead. Hand-in-hand, soaked to the bone, with the string of his headphones forcing even more proximity that made your cheeks heat. 

You don’t remember who interlaced your fingers. If it was you...you’re still happy. It means he was okay with it, maybe he wanted to. 

If it was him? 

He definitely wanted to. 

However, it’s all filed in your memories now – because you look over your monitor to see his brows fixed in concentration as he types across his keyboard, with you not even a blip on his radar. You watch carefully as he reads his own words over and over, before his eyes flicker up and meet yours. 

You’re not surprised when his shoulders sag for the umpteenth time, and he looks away. 

Like he wants to say something. Like he wants to talk to you, but the words get caught in his throat and he can’t seem to get them out. It’s been a year since you’ve spoken, and you would’ve forgotten the sound of his voice if he wasn’t your co-worker – but you never forget that night last spring, drenched in the rain. 

You would’ve kissed him; you could have kissed him. 

It’s spring, again. 

You walk to the train station after work in silence, with nothing playing in your headphones for the first time. You sit in between an elderly couple and a lone high school girl absently staring at a long thread of messages on her phone. They’re all left unanswered, and she repeatedly fills the text box with words before deleting them and starting over. 

You feel like that girl – except she’s brave enough to ask for answers and you’re gripping your purse in a claustrophobic panic. 

It’s a Wednesday in summer when you finally get tired of waiting for answers. Almost a year to the date when he first asked you to get drinks with him, you get an idea. 

Have a drink with me tonight. 

That's all it says. 

You stand over the copy machine, the sticky note you scribbled on moments earlier folded neatly in your hand. You wrote and rewrote it at your desk, your hands trembling and smearing the ink. You had to walk past his desk to submit the paperwork you were making copies of, and you planned to slip it onto his mousepad on the way back to your own. 

You don’t get a chance to do that, though. 

Your eyes are closed when you hear the copy room door open, but you don’t bother to look up as that same woodsy smell fills your nostrils. 

He doesn’t speak, but you know it’s him.  

You know, from the smell of lumber and the click of his shoes and the tension that makes you feel suffocated as you peer over your shoulder. He’s silent, thumbing at his own paperwork. He only glances up when he feels your eyes on him, but this time, you don’t look away. 

His jacket is gone, sleeves rolled up to his elbows and tie slightly loosened. You’d stare if it wasn’t against girl code to ogle someone else’s man. 

You turn, fully facing him as your last copy gets stapled by the machine and slides out. You gather them in your arms, before holding them to your chest and holding the sticky note out to him between two fingers. He glances at the hot pink paper, swallowing carefully before reaching for it. 

You give him a soft smile, before spinning on your heel and heading out of the room without a word. 

You’re moving at lightning speed to get out of the office before he can get a chance to catch up with you – shoving your copies into your manager’s hands with a rushed run-down of the day’s events and outages. You thank her with a bow, before beelining for your desk and yanking your purse out of the bottom drawer. 

You make it to the elevator without him noticing you, your eyes catching a flash of his white shirt and the hot pink paper unfolded in his hand. 

You feel your phone buzz in your hand as you reach the lobby. 

NEW! Message From: Wen Junhui (WORK)  [5:32PM] where? 

It’s nearing seven when he finally has the courage to get out of his car. 

He’s been sitting in front of the bar for ten minutes, hoping to see you walk by. If you’re late, you won’t notice that he is. 

Message From: Y/N ♡  [5:35PM] at dizzy’s  [5:35PM] 6:30? 

He waits another three minutes, watching the corner before his hand finally grabs the door handle and pulls. 

He sees you almost instantly, sitting quietly at a booth in the back. You’re not in your work clothes anymore, instead wearing a soft red dress and your hair is pinned back. You’re smiling at the waiter, who seems to be really interested in talking to you as he slides a margarita on the table. He holds the menu out, only for you to shake your head. 

He watches your glossed lips shape around the words: I’m waiting for someone. 

Him. He’s the someone. 

He wants to be the only one. Ever. 

He tongues his cheek as the waiter nods, patting the vinyl of the booth above your head. You lean your head back slightly, closing your eyes as your forefinger picks at your thumb’s cuticle. A nervous habit of yours, one he’d picked up on the first time he spoke to you. 

About pinecones, actually – but you don’t remember that at all. He doesn’t know what possessed him to bring them up – but he learned, through your hushed whisper in the elevator that morning – that you liked them. You like pinecones, because they are so diverse while all still being the same thing.  

He hadn’t understood it then, but he did now – albeit differently. 

He was like the pinecones, because he tried to show you that he liked you in so many ways...through the invites to drinks, the lunch, the shared memes. 

The pinecones. 

Sliding warm tea on your desk and lemon-blueberry muffins, to cracking jokes and passing notes to you on his pink My Melody stationery. To pulling your hair out and brushing your hair out of your face, to letting his friends embarrass him by practically outing his interest in you every time they got together with you and him for drinks at this very bar. 

To walking you home, even in the rain, just to spend a little more time with you.  

Only to realize that it was futile, because you didn’t see him that way. 

You didn’t see him as more than a friend, but he’s not brave enough to tell you why you should. 

“Hi.” 

Your voice is smooth as he finally slides into the booth opposite you, his skin warming at the sound of it. He clears his throat, giving you a curt nod as he adjusts himself in his seat. He shrugs off his jacket, tossing it to the side before feeling guilt begin to settle in his stomach. 

“Sorry. I was...” 

He gives up on coming up with an excuse, only running his hand through his hair as you nod. Your manicured fingers stir your straw in figure eights, the flash of an heirloom ring you never take off catching his eye. “I’m sorry.” 

“For?” Your eyes are curious, before tilting your head. “Being late? It happens.” 

He shakes his head like he doesn’t know, before clearing his throat again when the waiter swoops in to save the day. He internally thanks whatever God is out there as he asks for a beer, earning a scrunch of your nose as the waiter nods and leaves once more. 

You don’t say anything as he shifts, only stare. Maybe through him, maybe into him. 

He doesn’t mind the warmth of your gaze. He never has. 

“I didn’t know getting a girlfriend meant you’d treat me like I never existed.” You start softly, his eyes widening as you purse your lips. “I understand creating distance, because there is someone new. Someone who could perceive you and I as something more, when it’s not.” 

“I...I don’t know what to say.” He admits lamely, the shock of you thinking he has a girlfriend not yet settling into his bones. “Who told you I have a girlfriend?” 

You only shrug, taking a quick sip of your drink before shaking your head. 

“Does it matter?” 

He blinks, when the waiter slides the beer bottle on the table as he passes by. He touches it, the glass cold as he tongues his cheek. 

If this is a way to get over you, by getting you believe there is someone else when there isn’t -- he’ll take it. He’ll take it because then it means he never has to tell you how he feels, and he’ll never have to face the way you reject him so kindly. 

“I guess not.”  “Mmh.” 

You trace circles into the side of your glass with your thumb, before another smile graces your lips. 

“Are you happy?” 

How could you ask him that? 

Of course he’s not happy.  

He hasn’t had a proper conversation with you in an entire year, and he’s been too much of a coward to admit that he wants more. He wants to kiss you in the elevator, in the break room, in the storage room on the sixth floor during your lunch break. He wants to hold your hand on the way to department meetings, under the table at drinks with your friends, on the walk to your apartment before you pull him in for a good night kiss. He wants to come into your apartment for a fucking nightcap without knowing he’ll say too much and lose any chance of ever being more to you. 

So instead, he pulls away. 

He stops talking to you, he removes you off every social media platform he can think of, so he doesn’t have the urge to peek at your dream home board on Pinterest, or the way your dream wedding is so similar to his. So he doesn’t have to be subjected to the cute outfits you post on your Instagram story before you leave your apartment for work, even though he’ll just see it when you arrive and he’ll have to take a deep breath so he doesn’t scream about how nice you look.  

So he doesn’t have to know that you’re listening to the playlist he made for you to stay calm in the packed morning train on the way to work. 

On the way to him. 

“No.” 

Your eyes soften, your brows scrunching in that same worried way they do when you’re listening to someone explain their problems to you at work. You nod, that comforting look of understanding glazing over your eyes. 

“Can I ask why?” 

He doesn’t bother responding, his mind racing as he thinks about all the pinecones sitting in his car, the ones that he’s deemed perfect enough to place on your desk but hasn’t been able to. He thinks about the way you slip out of the office and how your heels sound as you sneak upstairs to the sixth floor during lunch. He thinks about when Mike caught him off-guard by coming down to his desk and saying that you liked a pink chair that was in the storage room and kept asking about it. 

A pink chair that used to belong to him, when he first got the company a few months before you did. 

He sighs, fishing his wallet out of his pocket and sliding two twenties on the table. 

“No. It’s better if you don’t.” 

He doesn’t allow himself to look at you as he slides out of the booth, his hand gripping his suit jacket much too tightly for it to go unnoticed. You don’t stand, only nod as you take another sip of your drink. 

“I hope it gets better. Have a good night, Junhui.” 

He fights back tears as he makes his way out of the bar, your understanding look stuck in his mind as he drives home. He doesn’t bother looking at the pinecones in his backseat or changing the playlist that blares through his speakers when he connects his phone – a playlist you made for him, for his long drive home from work. 

You’re in everything he holds dear to him. The music, the cabin – even if you’ve never been there. You know him, everything about him that is worth knowing in his eyes. 

Except the fact that he’s in love with you, and that he’s a liar. 

JUNHUI ISN'T AT HIS DESK ON THURSDAY. OR FRIDAY.

The whispering starts on Monday, with lots of wayward glances towards you and you almost want to go down to Minghao’s desk and ask if Junhui is okay.  

But you don’t -- you glue yourself to your chair until lunch time, only to see that the pink chair you loved is no longer in the storage room. Mike tells you that the original owner took it out on Wednesday night and offers a soft apology. You shake your head and say it’s okay, before turning around and going back to your desk. 

You arrive at your desk on Tuesday morning to your desk chair missing. There is a warm cup of tea on a coaster, and a cranberry orange muffin in front of your keyboard – but none of it distracts from the sudden pop of color next to your mousepad. 

A plastic pink storage box. 

You don’t bother to put your purse down as you crack the corner up, and your eyes widen as you realize it’s full of pinecones. There’s an envelope attached to the underside of the lid, and you pluck it off carefully before leaning against your desk. You peel it open gently, only to see the familiar pink My Melody stationery. 

Junhui. 

You ignore the urge to look up at his desk to see if he’s watching you over his monitor, feeling eyes from your co-workers trickling in as they spot the pink box. His handwriting is scrawled in purple ink across the stationery, and your heart sinks as you take in the slightly smudged words. 

My Y/N, 

I’m sorry about Wednesday. In fact, I’m sorry about the past year that I’ve gone without speaking to you. I have no excuse, only an explanation that probably won’t make things any better but will certainly give you some clarity. 

I pulled away because I knew things would get too much for me. I’ve got a weak heart, and I can’t take rejection well – so I figured I’d cut ties first. It never worked, cutting contact with you; I found myself constantly missing the sound of your voice. I wanted so badly for you to reach out first, but I should’ve known better than to expect that when I was the one who wedged my way into your life. Our friendship was fun, and I miss listening to playlists with you during the walks to your apartment, but it simply can’t be anymore. 

I like you so much, it’s painful to be around you and know you don’t feel the same. 

I wanted to kiss you that night last spring. The rain and everything, it felt like a movie. Maybe that’s corny, and maybe it’s too forward but it doesn’t matter anyway because nothing will come of this. I’m sorry, for being too much of a coward to ever explain this to you in person. And for telling you now, through a letter written on stationery.  

With this, I’ve got to admit something; finding out that you think I have a girlfriend when you’re all I’ve been able to think about since that first day we spoke is insane to me. Where do you get your gossip from? Is it a subscription? Unsubscribe effective immediately. 

Speaking of effective immediately, I’ve taken a new position at a new company. So not only am I a coward for confessing this way, but also because I’m running away from it all. I don’t think I could handle not going home to you, even after seeing you all day. I’m not equipped for the agony of a silent, one-sided office romance that you read about in books. 

I recommended you for my position. Don’t worry, people won’t talk to you nearly as much as they do now; but still...have fun, yeah? 

I hope you enjoy these pinecones, for whatever you might end up using them for – and the pink chair. Funny, it belonged to me when I first got to the company. That’s why Mike never gave it up, but he told me you liked it so I figured you should have it. 

Now it belongs to you! Quite like my heart. 

Have a good day, Y/N. I’ll miss you. 

Always and forever yours,  Junhui ♡ 

Your chest aches as you realize all the opportunities have slipped through your fingers. 

“Miss Y/N, Mr. Wen said he’d like for you to have this.” 

Mike startles you as you see the pink chair being rolled behind your desk, the fabric pristine and the small stain from spilled coffee at the edge is gone. Your fingers flit across the headrest, before you look at him with tears in your eyes. 

“Guess he changed his mind, huh?” 

He only smiles, nodding his head before turning on his heel and leaving. 

You look at the cup of tea. It’s still hot, so it must’ve been placed recently. You glance over at his desk; how vacant it looked. Almost like how your chest feels after having your heart ripped out. 

You don’t really notice that you’re moving until you’re in the elevator, nervously nibbling on your lip as you frantically press on Minghao’s floor number while balancing the box of pinecones on your hip. It feels like an eternity as the damn thing jostles, and you nearly trip as it finally opens on the third floor. You beeline for Minghao’s desk in the back, only to see him quietly arriving with his headphones slid over his ears and his wife’s lipstick still stamped on his cheek. 

He glances up as he feels your presence behind him, his eyes widening before a smile graces his lips. 

“Y/N! What brings you down here?” 

“Where is he?” You blurt, your hand still holding the note. He raises a brow, sliding his headphones off and onto the desk as he takes a seat in his desk chair. 

“Where is who, sweetheart?”  “Junhui.” 

His lips form an o-shape, making him nod before he shrugs. 

“Why should I tell you?” 

You gape at him, almost losing your grip on the box on your hip. 

“Because you obviously know, and if you care about me–”  “Tell me why I should tell you, Y/N.” 

You huff, your cheeks hot as you tap your foot. He tilts his head, an expectant look in his eyes before he speaks again. 

“I do have work to do, you know.” 

“Because I need to tell him that I...” You choke on your words, scoffing out a humorless laugh as you feel your eyes sting with tears. “Because I need to tell him that he’s an idiot.” 

“You can text him that, you know.”  “I’d rather die than text him how I feel.”  “So, you admit you feel some type of way about him.” 

He grins, slim fingers typing his password into his computer. You scowl. 

“I never said anything of the sort.” You argue, and Minghao gives you a look that says, really bitch? 

“You like him. It’s obvious to all of us, everyone in this office.” He reaches for his water bottle, his fingers aptly flicking the cap open. “So, admit it. Admit you have feelings for Wen Junhui, and I’ll give you the information you want.” 

You look at the crumpled stationery in your hand, your heart swelling slightly at his handwriting. 

My Y/N.  Always and forever yours,  Junhui ♡ 

“I love him.” You mumble softly as you stare at the paper, not catching how Minghao’s eyes widen. “I’m in love with him, Hao.” 

A single tear rolls down your cheek and you quickly wipe it away, before looking up to see Minghao looking at you with a soft glaze over his eyes. 

“I expect you and your boyfriend to get drinks with my wife and I this weekend in exchange for this.” His tone is warning as he reaches for a pen, his hand swiping a sticky note off the pad. You nod, ignoring the way your cheeks heat at the idea of Junhui being your boyfriend as he holds out the green paper. “Here, leave that. I’ll keep it safe, so you don’t have to lug it around.” 

He holds his hands out for the box, and you hesitate before carefully placing it down. You open the corner, taking one of the pinecones out with a wince as he raises a brow before you shove it in your purse. 

“I can explain.”  “Over drinks this weekend. I’ll work out your attendance with your department manager.” 

You smile gently, glancing down at the sticky note. It’s an address to an apartment building. 

“Thank you, Minghao.”  “Go, sweetheart. You’ll get caught in the rain if you stay any longer.” 

And you go. 

You don’t bother waiting for the elevator, practically flying down three flights of stairs. You sprint out of the lobby, nearly slamming into yet another of Junhui’s friends, Joshua, before yelling an apology over your shoulder. You make it outside, holding both pieces of paper in one of your shaking hands while the other fishes your phone out of your purse. 

A fat raindrop falls on the screen as you map out how far the address is, and you almost welcome the cool water falling onto your cheeks as you run to the train station. 

NEW! Message From: Hao  [8:02AM] day 1 of my best friend being a traitor. how is working from home, you bitch? 

Junhui snorts as the message comes in, settling carefully in his desk chair. He feels a bit alone as he texts back a simple, I’m sorry; the usual soft chatter of the office replaced by the sound of his aircon blasting. Everything feels too casual – his white t-shirt tucked into his blue jeans, the softness of his house slippers instead of his usual heavy dress shoes. He feels like he’s waiting for a lunch date with one of his friends, rather than signing into work for the day. 

He looks over the edge of his monitor, no longer seeing your warm eyes looking back at him; but a cat calendar flipped to July. He rolls his shoulders back, sighing inwardly when his phone buzzes incessantly on the desk.  

Your contact photo fills the screen. 

INCOMING CALL FROM: Y/N [PLEDIS] 

He feels the entire world stop. His breath is caught in his throat, and he suddenly can’t feel his limbs. He watches the phone ring until the call fails, nearly falling out of his chair as he stands up and grabs it. His hands are shaking too hard for him to press the missed call notification, only for you to call back again.  

His chest is tight as he shakily breathes out, his thumb swiping across the screen to answer it. 

“Hello?” 

“I wanted to kiss you that night, too. I have never once though back to that night and didn’t feel regret knowing I didn’t kiss you.” 

You sound slightly out of breath, and the sound of rain is loud in the background. He feels his stomach drop to his ass; feet rooted to his spot in his office.  

“Y/N, I–”  “You don’t have to say anything. Just come outside.” 

He blinks as the call ends, staring at his reflection in the dark screen.  

You’re outside. 

“Shit.”  

He nearly stumbles as he darts out of his office, beelining for his coat closet and shoving his feet into a pair of sneakers. He grabs the umbrella that leans against the frame of his front door, not bothering to grab his keys as he fumbles with the lock and throws the door open. A rumble of thunder startles him as he quickly shuts the door behind him, his fingers trying to fiddle with the umbrella when he hears your voice echo through the complex. 

“Junhui!” 

He glances over the railing, his eyes darting all over the courtyard before spotting you a few feet from the stairs. You’re wearing the black dress you wore the first time he’d spoken to you, and the attempt to wear open-toed shoes was ruined by the rain. 

“Wen Junhui! Get down here!” 

He feels laughter bubble up in his chest as he realizes you’re completely drenched, your hair is stuck to your face and your dress is practically dripping like the clouds above. 

“You come up! It’s pouring out here!”  “No, you have to come down here! I came all this way, it’s only fair!” 

He can’t really see your smile from where you are, but he can hear it. He can hear it and it’s like the rain doesn’t matter. It’s like this very moment proves he was an idiot not to overthink all those intimate moments between the two of you – the way your eyes would light up at his stupid emails, the way you’d let his hands linger on your neck or ears after brushing your hair out of your eyes. All the playlists, all the similarities down to the fact that you both want marigolds for your dream weddings. 

The way you interlaced your fingers that night last spring, and he’s so glad you did. 

“Junhui!” 

He shakes his head, dropping the umbrella on his doormat before sprinting to the staircase, hearing his heart pounding in his ears as he barrels down the stone steps.  

“What...what are you doing here? You’re going to get sick, I...” 

He trails off as he realizes you’re staring at him with a sparkle in your eye he can’t swallow. Your smile is all teeth, and he feels his chest ache as you shrug innocently. You take a step closer, tilting your head. 

“I thought you wanted to kiss me.” 

He feels his cheeks hot, and he absently runs a hand through his hair. 

“You’re drenched, Y/N.”  “I was that night, too. We both were.” 

You shrug again, before stepping out from under the stairwell back into the rain. You hold your hand out, the rain pelting it as he hesitates to take it. You wiggle your fingers, making him tongue his cheek as he takes it, letting you pull him out into the rain. You hand slides up his arm and cradles his jaw gently, and he fights himself not to lean into it but ultimately fails. 

“I told Minghao I’d tell you you’re an idiot.” 

He snorts, “Is that on his behalf or yours?” 

“Mostly mine, but I’m sure he has his own things to say about the matter. A year, Junhui? A whole year.” Your lip is jutted in a pout, and he sighs as the rain starts to soak in through his shirt. His hair is starting to stick on his forehead, and your hand swipes it back. 

“I’m sorry. I know that it’ll never be enough to say it, but I truly mean it.” He gently touches his forehead to yours, his heart warming at the way you peer up at him through wet lashes. “I don’t blame you if you don’t forgive me, either. It was a shitty thing to do.” 

He hates how your eyes soften, because he feels his knees grow weak as your other arm loops around his neck. He tentatively wraps his own around your waist, pulling you closer and he swears he sees your smile grow shy. 

“I wouldn’t have come all this way if I didn’t think hearing you out would be worth it.” You say softly, and a rumble of thunder makes you both flinch. A laugh escapes you, before your thumb strokes his cheek gently. 

“Is this still like last spring?” 

He smiles softly, “No.” 

“Did you ever think this would be the first time you get to kiss me? Like this?” 

He laughs, “No.” 

“Is it better, though?”  “Considering I’d hoped we would’ve gone on a date—”  “Say yes before I regret coming all this way.”  “Yes.” 

Neither of you move, but he feels it. He feels the same feeling of want he did that night, the same feeling of yearning that floated off you without a single word. You tilt your head up, your nose brushing his lightly . 

“I’m really cold.”  “I told you to come up.”  “This is more romantic.”  “I hope you know ‘romantic’ can also cost you three sick days at work.” 

“You’re worth all my sick days, Wen Junhui.” You mutter, pressing your lips to his. He can’t help but smile into it, his arm tightening around your waist as his other hand cups your face softly.  

All the warmth from your eyes, the bashfulness of your smiles, the kindness of your heart is too much for his heart to handle. He can’t believe you’re really here, in his arms...your lips so, so soft and eager against his. 

“We have to go inside. You’re going to get sick.” He forces himself to pull away, his heart melting at the way you chase his lips slightly. You frown, and he can’t help but press a chaste kiss to your pouted lip. “We can kiss all you want inside the apartment, I promise.” 

You don’t seem embarrassed at all as you smile at the mention of it, even if he feels his own cheeks grow hot as you nod. He feels his entire chest swell slightly as you interlace your fingers with his and pull him towards the stairwell, biting back his giddy smile. 

YOU SMELL LIKE LUMBER SOMETIMES.

You smell like the tree trunks he chops for firewood at his cabin on the weekends, and you roast his marshmallow for him – despite Minghao’s teasing.  

He still picks up pinecones. He dusts them off and examines them, and the best one is always promptly delivered to you at lunchtime as he drops by the company to whisk you away. The lunch invitations that once meant you’d be holed away in the storage room with a less-sad turkey sandwich from the deli down the block, now meant you’re getting bombarded with kisses before he finally lets you get out of his car with your to-go cup of iced tea. 

That wasn’t nearly the extent of your relationship with him. Now, he has a photo of you on his desk at home – and you have one of the two of you together on yours. Your pink chair is complimented often by your coworkers, and you’ve apologized to Diane for lying about a gluten allergy.  

Though you’re back to being under the radar, people notice the changes. They notice that Junhui, who no longer works alongside them, is still frequently in the lobby – but he’s picking you up. He’s kissing you; he’s spinning you around and calling you, my love.  

No one speaks to you unless they need something, and rarely does someone need something from you. 

But Junhui? 

He can’t help but need you every single day. He slips his pink stationery love letters into your purse before you leave his apartment on Sunday nights, even if he’s begged you to stay the night just one more time. He accepts invites to anything that means he can bring you with him -- drinks with Minghao, lunch with his mother, even a weekend trip that was meant to be strictly business, but he spent most of the time that he wasn’t presenting glued to you in the hotel room.  

Junhui doesn’t let you take the train anymore. Junhui takes your shy offers for a nightcap that usually end up with you kissing him breathless on your couch off two glasses of wine. Junhui, of all things, holds your hand on the table at drinks with his friends that are now yours, too.  

Junhui listens – to your complaints about work; to your theories about birthstones and how whoever chose them was clearly biased for September to have the sapphire; to your sweet whispers as you slip your hand down his shorts late at night, and the whiny moans of his name that slip from your throat when he’s pinned you against his mattress. 

But above all? 

Junhui loves you.  

Unabashedly, uninhibitedly and irrevocably. 

haologram © 2025 || no translations, reposting or modifications are allowed. do not claim as your own. viewer discretion is advised. your media consumption is your responsibility.

[spideyjimin]

what was i made for | jk

⏤ pairing: jungkook x female reader 

⏤ genre: strangers to lovers, fluff, and smut 

⏤ rating: 18+

⏤ warnings: a tiny bit of sad oc, alcohol consumption, oral sex (m receiving), swearing, some teasing, praising, penetrative sex, protected sex, rough sex, creampie, and multiple orgasms 

⏤ words: 8,833

⏤ summary: have you ever met someone with whom you instantly clicked? well yes, but never to the extent of how it happened with jungkook. in a matter of days, he made you feel like the prettiest and most special woman. right there and then, you understood what you were made for. 

 ⏤ author’s note: hi loves! here you have this fic! it was a pleasure to write it since it's been a while that i haven't written fluffy fics. i hope you enjoy it & it's always a pleasure to know what you think about it! have a wonderful day & week ahead!

MASTERLIST

Turning 30 wasn’t exactly how you pictured it to be. Since a very young age, you thought that by this stage you’d be in a long-term relationship and probably a mother. As years passed by, you simply hoped that you’d be in a relationship but all the dates you endured the past year made you realize that it would never be the case. 

Being single has never made you sad, you actually always enjoyed being on your own. Being independent is something you always sought to have, and you deeply treasure having it. However, this is quite a milestone in life and this time, being alone has a bit of a bittersweet taste. And it hurts. Although, in a way, you try to convince yourself that it’s better to be alone than in a bad relationship. 

As you’re looking at the people sitting at the table, most of them are engaged or married or living together, or having a child. Before, it used to not hurt you but today, it’s quite hard to look at them all with happiness. Nonetheless, the reason why you’re all gathered today truly makes you happy. Your best friend, Jin proposed to his girlfriend, Iseul and they reunited all their close friends to announce the fantastic news. You’re the only one aware of this because he asked for your advice for the proposal. 

The only other person aware of this is Jimin, Iseul’s brother. Jin prefers to have his approval since they are very close. He also asked for her father’s approval as the gentleman that he is. You got to meet Iseul’s brother quite a lot of times and he’s definitely a sweetheart. Jin and Iseul tried to set you up but between you, there’s only friendship, nothing more. 

While looking, your eyes land on a man who catches your attention. He’s honestly quite handsome, a kind of handsome you’ve never seen before. He looks innocent without looking innocent. It sort of doesn’t make sense but that’s how you’d describe him. Looking at his cute features makes him look quite innocent but then, his vibe definitely breathes ‘not innocent’. Maybe it’s caused by his short haircut. You’re not sure although that’s how you perceive him. 

For sure, you’re convinced that he’s probably already in a relationship. Guys like him are usually taken. They don’t stay single for a long time, they easily charm every person around them, and they can find their person quite fast. Your eyes meet and he offers you a little smile, one that you return. 

“Hey guys,” Jin says a little louder to get everybody’s attention. “Today, Iseul and I gathered you here to share some wonderful news.” 

A bright smile appears on your face. 

Iseul shows her left hand with her engagement ring and points it out. “We’re getting married,” she yells with evident joy. 

Everybody starts congratulating them for their engagement, and they all seem extremely happy with this announcement. It warms your heart to be a part of this big step in their lives. Getting married is quite something, and you’re deeply and truly happy for them. 

During the dinner, you find out that the hot guy’s name is Jungkook. He’s actually Iseul’s cousin. Him and Jimin are quite close. Jimin frequently mentions him and you’ve heard many stories about them. It’s great to finally put a face on a name. Especially since he’s a very good looking man. 

At some point, you realize that everybody is discussing in the living room, except for you, Jimin, and Jungkook. Throughout the evening, they slowly moved, leaving you alone with them. You’re having a very animated conversation about desserts. 

“Tiramisu is the best dessert ever,” you say. “There’s nothing you can say that will change my mind.”

They are trying to convince you that chocolate mousse or lemon cheesecake are much better than anything else. For sure, those are good desserts but not as good as a tiramisu. Nothing will ever beat a good old tiramisu. 

“Pff, you’re saying nonsense, yn,” Jimin replies. 

You roll your eyes which makes Jungkook laugh. Honestly, it’s been fantastic to interact with them. They are super funny, they have a very good dynamic. Through that, you get to see that Jungkook isn’t just pretty on the outside, he definitely seems to have a good heart. That convinces you even more that this man isn’t single at all. A man like him isn’t on the market anymore. A lucky girl must be waiting for him at home.      

“Every word that leaves my mouth is only the truth,” you say with a little smirk on your face. 

Both men laugh even more. They aren’t convinced at all that you only say the truth, they actually don’t agree with you that tiramisu is the best dessert ever. 

“You’re very funny, yn!” Jimin says.  

You roll your eyes once more but you’re simply happy to share this moment with them. They manage to make you forget how sad you’ve been feeling for the past month. It’s been hard but you’ve been trying to cheer yourself up because it’s a feeling that is not easy to deal with. 

“I quickly need to go to the bathroom,” Jimin adds. 

You and Jungkook simply nod before your friend leaves you alone. For a brief moment, there’s a little silence between you but it’s not an awkward one. Then, his eyes meet yours with a little smile on his face. 

“I’m happy to finally meet the girl Iseul tried to set Jimin up with,” he says. 

“Oh, you heard about that,” you reply with a smile appearing on your face. 

“Of course,” he responds. “Iseul talked so much about it, she really wanted you to be together.” 

She told you that a million times but you and Jimin weren’t meant to be together. At least that’s what you believe. There’s a lot of love and respect between you but it will never be more than that. He’s simply a close friend. A friend you’re more than grateful to have in your life.  

“She’s terrible!” you shake your head with a little smile on your face. “I don’t get why she had to tell everybody about it.” 

For sure, it annoys you a bit that she had to tell the world she wanted you to be with her little brother. But she’s one of your bestest friends, and you cherish her friendship more than anything else. It was such a sweet gesture to try to help you out with your love life.  

Then, right there, you see in his eyes the pity appearing. He doesn’t need to say anything else for you to understand what he’s going to say. They all give you that look when they’re about to say that you’re single. 

“She wants to help her dear friend to find someone,” he mumbles. 

Your eyes glance down at your hands. It’s better that he doesn’t see the sadness appearing all over your face. Even though it comes from a good intention, it makes you feel like a pathetic girl that isn’t able to find someone, especially when you’re talking about it with a handsome man. 

“She’s also been wanting to do it with me,” he adds. “She keeps saying that a soldier shouldn’t be single. It doesn’t make any sense to me but I guess she simply adores setting people together.” 

A smile appears on your face before you look up. In a way, you feel like he said that to cheer you up but it still feels nice that he tried to not make you feel alone. However, you’re a bit surprised to hear that he’s a soldier. You would have never imagined him serving in the military. 

“Probably,” you reply. “But in my case, it’s mostly out of pity because I’m 30 and still single. All our friends are in relationships, married or parents.” 

“I’m sure that’s not the reason,” you instantly say. “Iseul is like that, she loves to help.” 

You take a deep breath, he’s absolutely right but it’s becoming heavy to be the only single one out of all your friends. Every single friend of yours present here is in a relationship. Most of them are already married, and a couple of them are parents. It’s not easy to look around and see everybody succeeding on all those aspects in life. The only thing you can brag about is your career. 

And because of all that, sometimes you wonder what you are made for.

“I know she just wants to help because she’s aware of how heavy the pressure from society can be,” you tell him. “And it has been quite heavy since I turned 30. It’s hard to look around and see everybody getting married or buying their houses or announcing a pregnancy while I’m extremely far from achieving that.” 

Jungkook nods. You’re not convinced he can understand you, you’re not sure he’s even single as he’s claiming. Society treats men and women completely differently. For a man, it’s totally okay to not be married or to have a child by the age of 30. It’s even remarkable if they put their careers first. But you’re fully aware that everything isn’t rainbows and sunshines for men as well. 

Nonetheless, it is surprising how comfortable this man has made you feel. This morning, you weren’t even aware of his existence, and now, you’re talking about how you’ve been feeling. What you ignore is that it's a shared feeling.

“I’m sorry to be talking about my problems,” you say. 

“No, no,” he says. “Don’t worry at all about that!” 

You swiftly start discussing other topics. At some point, you find yourself wondering where Jimin is but he has discreetly joined the others in the living room, leaving you alone. He noticed the way you were deeply talking, and he didn’t want to disturb you. For sure, you appreciated the opportunity because you got to learn a bit more about Jungkook. 

After the engagement party of Iseul and Jin, you exchanged numbers with Jungkook and since then, you’ve been spending your days texting him. It has been making you extremely happy. He’s making you feel seen, a sensation that has been absent from your life for a while. Not all the men you dated elicited that feeling in you, but it’s also not something new. However, right now, you don’t want to think about the ex that provoked that feeling.  

What you truly appreciate about Jungkook is the fact that he always warns you when he will take some time to reply. He always tells you when he’s going to do a certain thing that will cause him to go to sleep at 4 am and that he won’t be able to reply. Nonetheless, he always texts you before going to sleep, no matter the time. 

“How are things going with my cousin?” Iseul asks while you’re walking to her car. 

It truly amazes you how this woman ends up discovering everything when it comes to the dating life of someone. 

“How do you know?” you inquire. 

A smirk appears on her face. 

“Well, at my engagement party, you were all over each other, which made me extremely happy, to be honest,” she explains. “Since then, you’ve been smiling like an idiot all the time, and your phone crazily buzzes. It’s not complicated to understand that you two are flirting.” 

The word ‘flirting’ violently hits you. You never considered that you were flirting but now that she’s saying it out loud, it definitely is the truth. 

“I should have thought about trying to set you up together,” she says. 

You roll your eyes while shaking your head. She’s always thinking about setting people together but that’s one of her charms. She’s always so considerate of people around her, she wants people to be happy. 

“Maybe if you had that idea, it would have never worked,” you reply. 

The thought of being set up with Jungkook is weird because you adore the way things started between you. You can’t imagine it any other way. Now, you’re simply grateful he’s part of your life. For the past month, he’s been contributing a lot to your happiness, and you only hope that it’ll be the case for a long time. 

“Probably,” she quickly replies, “but I’m glad you’re talking and discovering each other,” she adds. “You deserve more than anyone else to be happy.” 

She takes you in a heartfelt hug, one that warms your soul. She’d noticed how sad you’d been since you turned 30, and it shattered her heart to see you like that. She’s seen how hard it has been for you to not find your person even though you said the opposite. She could see the pain behind the smile you were always showing. 

She���s fully aware that being in a relationship doesn’t determine the person you are, but she knows how it can sometimes make you feel lonely. When it happens, it hurts, and not just a bit. Iseul admires you. You’re so independent, you don’t rely on anybody else. Most of the time, when she needs to go somewhere, she calls somebody to not be alone because she hates that feeling. 

She drops you out at your place, and you enjoy a bit of your time alone at home. After being out with Iseul, you need a few hours of rest. Honestly, she exhausted you. Thankfully, tomorrow is Sunday and you’re planning on staying at home the full day. But someone ruins your moment alone by ringing at the door. 

As you open the door, you’re graced with a man holding a massive bouquet of flowers. 

“Ms y/l/n?” the man raises as he takes the bouquet down. 

“Yes,” you reply and frown. 

“This is a delivery I have for you,” he hands you the bouquet. “Can you please sign here?”

“Let me just put the bouquet down, please,” the man nods while you place the bouquet on your table. 

You come back real quick and sign the receipt. The man leaves, you close the door, and go to the living room to take a proper look at the bouquet. It’s a very impressive one but it’s definitely a wonderful one. There’s a little card on it which intrigues you. Who could possibly send it? 

‘A wonderful bouquet for the most wonderful woman, Jungkook. Ps: sorry I couldn’t hand it myself to you.’ 

Your heart melts right there. This man is slowly but surely making you fall in love with him. The bouquet is so pretty, it’s actually the prettiest a man has ever given to you. It’s for sure a pity he couldn’t have given it himself, you would have wanted him to be here with you right now. Nevertheless, it’s still a magnificent gesture. One that you’ll cherish for a long moment.

Jungkook is on a special mission this weekend which prevents him from returning home. Usually, he only works during the week but there was an unexpected event this weekend. To be honest, it kind of broke your heart because you were eager to spend some time with him. Since he works and sleeps in the barracks during the week, the only time you get to see him is the weekend. 

Being away from you doesn’t prevent him from speaking with you and calling you every day, but it’s very different from being together. Nonetheless, you feel like it also helps to build a stronger connection. Once you get to see each other, you try to get the most out of it.  

You grab your phone and send him a message. Jungkook told you that his phone will remain at the quarters and that he wouldn’t be able to speak with you. So calling him will be useless, it’s best to leave a message that he’ll see when he’s back. 

That night, you fell asleep with the brightest smile. Jungkook has been making you feel so special since the moment you met him. There’s no doubt that you’ll try to keep him around as long as possible. 

The next Monday, after leaving work, you find Jungkook at the main entrance. After this intense and tough work day, it definitely makes your day a hundred times better. As soon as he sees you, he smiles and walks in your direction to meet you halfway. While getting closer to him, you notice that he’s wearing his military uniform. The first thought that crosses your mind is that he came straight after leaving the barrack. In a way, it warms your heart he did it, however, you can’t help but think of how tired he must be. 

Also, seeing him with the uniform makes you weak. It’s the first time you’re seeing him for real wearing it, and let’s just say that he’s more than fine. Without sounding too horny, you’d even say that you’d open your legs right now if he’d ask.  

“Hey, Jungkook,” you say once you’re right in front of him. “What are you doing here?” 

The man in front of you kisses your cheek, causing shivers all over your body. Your smile grows bigger. This part of your life is filled with so much happiness, something you wouldn’t have imagined a couple of months ago when you turned 30. It’s so surprising how life can completely change in a second. Meeting Jungkook has drastically changed your life but you wouldn’t have wanted it in any other way. 

“Hello, yn,” his eyes don’t leave yours. “Just wanted to see your pretty face since I couldn’t for the past week.” 

Your cheeks instantly turn red but you take the compliment. Your eyes are lost in his, people around you completely disappeared. It’s just you and him. For a brief moment, his eyes look down at your lips yet you don’t notice it otherwise you would have maybe kissed him. His right hand caresses your cheek causing your eyes to close for a split second. 

“There’s a nice bar/coffee place where I’d like to take you,” he breaks this intimate moment with his words. 

You nod. He takes your hand to guide you until the place he’s talking about. It’s actually not too far from your workplace. As you step inside, you can’t help but find it extremely cozy. There are quite a few people, not a lot but still. At the end, you notice there’s a photobooth. A couple is leaving it with a bright smile on their faces before they check out the pictures they took. As you see them, you desire nothing more than to try it with Jungkook. It’ll create great memories. 

“Could we take pictures in the photobooth?” you ask pouting to get what you want. 

The man holding your hand doesn’t resist so he nods. A broad smile spreads across your face, filling you with happiness that he accepted. Now, you’re the one guiding him to the end of the bar. He’s also smiling as it brings a lot of joy to him to be with you right now. It’s his only free day of the week, and all he wanted was to be with you. You’ve brightened his life the second you appeared. 

When you open the curtains to get inside the little cabin, you freeze as you realize that there’s only a small stool. But before you say anything, Jungkook gets inside, sits on the tool and places you on his lap. It definitely surprises you but it also warms your heart. You close the curtain before taking a look at the man that has been making your heart beat for the past month. 

“Since we’re here,” he starts. 

You notice a little bit of nervousness in his eyes, and for some unknown reason, it increases the pace of your heartbeat. 

“The reason I wanted to bring you here,” he’s clearly nervous, especially since you’re really close to him. “Because I wanted to ask you if you’d want to become my girlfriend.” 

Now, for sure, your heart is beating like crazy and at the same time melting at his words. It’s incredibly adorable that he actually raised the question, none of your exes did it previously. On top of it, he looks absolutely charming. This man owns your heart. Honestly, it means the world that he took the time to raise the question. At least, it will be official the second you say ‘yes’. 

Since he’s scared to be rejected, he starts to fill the void. “It’s my only day off and all I wanted was to see you to ask...” Before he can even finish his sentence, you gently press your lips on his while grabbing his face in your hands. It’s a simple smack but one that says a thousand words. One that finally happens after all those weeks of flirting. One that finally resumes how you’ve been feeling. Hopelessly in love. 

“Yes,” you reply when you break the kiss. 

The largest and most radiant smile lights up his face. His smile is quite contagious as you smile back at him. The two of you are simply and utterly filled with happiness. Jungkook presses his lips on yours for a passionate kiss. 

The kiss is sweet and tender, there’s no rush or anything else in it. This moment has been desired by the two of you for a little while already. His strong arms wrap tighter around you almost as if he’s scared you’ll disappear.  

His lips are so soft on yours, the tenderness of the kiss making your heart melt completely. Never a man has kissed you like that. Your heart is pounding extremely hard on your chest while the butterflies on your lower stomach are making you feel completely alive. 

Your little hands cup his face while you kiss him passionately. There’s absolutely no doubt that he’s a good kisser. This first kiss with him will for sure be a memorable one unless he gets even better at kissing with time. Out of breath, you break the kiss. 

“Maybe we should take those pictures before people throw us out of here,” you say. 

Jungkook nods before inserting a coin. In a matter of seconds, the little screen shows that you should press play, and he follows the instruction. You strike a first pose, you’re both looking at the camera with a gleaming smile. For the second pose, Jungkook presses a kiss on your cheek which makes you blush. For the third one, he kisses you tenderly. 

This will be without any doubt a memorable day. 

Once the kiss is over, you leave the little cabin. Two sets of pictures are printed. You grab them and hand one to Jungkook. Your eyes stare at the pictures, they are wonderful. For you, they clearly show the way you feel about each other. The way Jungkook makes you happy. The way you love him. 

For the past 3 months, you’ve been in a relationship with Jungkook. It’s a bit odd to be dating a soldier. Honestly, you always kind of had a bad image of them when it comes to relationships. Yes, they are brave, and it’s truly admirable that they sacrifice themselves for the nation. But you always believed they were womanizers, something that your boyfriend has been proving you wrong. He’s actually far from being a Don Juan. Iseul has also mentioned it a million times. 

As you noticed, even if he’s assertive when it comes to you, he’s actually quite reserved. Hence, he never had a lot of girlfriends. It’s difficult for him to approach women but he confessed that with you, it was easy. He felt that he could be himself without feeling judged. He felt that he didn’t need to hold back to impress. He felt that he could simply be Jungkook. Sometimes, you feel that his shyness and his job are simply contradictory. But for you, it’s what makes him special. 

Today, Jungkook gets to leave the barrack a bit earlier and he invites you to spend the night at his place. Quite frankly, you’re a bit nervous. Lately, your conversation almost always deviates in a way into sex, you’re grateful to have those conversations. However, you realize that one day, you’ll make love. You haven’t done anything so far, even oral sex. None of you has really made it happen even though it’s quite obvious that there’s a massive physical attraction. 

Having sex is making you nervous because it’s been a while since you last did it. Of course, it’s naturally something you crave but you’re scared to be bad at it. You’re scared that this first time together will be a disaster which you don’t want. You don’t want it to be perfect too. All you want it to be is pleasurable.  

When you’re at the door of the building complex, you ring the doorbell. He lets you in so you take the elevator to reach the 5th floor. Jungkook is living in a little building complex, it only has 5 floors so his apartment is on the last floor. Per floors, there aren’t many apartments which makes this little complex quite cozy. When you reach the 5th floor, you walk until the door of his apartment. The door is a tiny bit opened, you still knock at the door. 

“Come in,” Jungkook screams. 

You do as he says, but you make sure to close the door behind you. The apartment is plunged into darkness, except it is lit with candles a bit everywhere. There are petals indicating you the path to follow, this is incredibly romantic. As you reach the living room, you notice that a table was put in the middle with dinner already served. Next to the table, Jungkook is standing tall with a bright smile on his face. In his hand, he’s holding a bouquet. It’s a pretty massive one but a wonderful one.

He looks absolutely stunning. 

Even in the darkness of the room, you can see how handsome he looks, and honestly, as long as he’s smiling, he looks stunning to you. With Jungkook, it’s not only about the looks. Most of the time, you find him stunning on the inside. The way he brings you comfort, the way he takes care of you, the way he treats you makes him absolutely handsome. His extremely hot physique is only an extra.   

A smile instantly appears on your face as you walk in his direction. 

“This is your monthly bouquet,” he says while handing you the bouquet. 

You take it, while plunging your nose in it to smell the sweet fragrance of the flowers. The bouquets that he chooses always have the best perfume. Your apartment always smells like heaven, and the sweet fragrance of flowers is something that you now associate with Jungkook. 

“This time around you went out of your way to offer them,” you teasingly say. 

The smile on your boyfriend’s face grows bigger. He looks particularly glowy today, something special irradiates from him. He breaks the tiny little space between you, you move the bouquet to your right so Jungkook doesn’t smash it as he gets closer to you. His right hand rests on your back, drawing you nearer to him. You look up at him, your faces barely away from each other, and before you can even comprehend he crashes his lips on yours for a gentle kiss. 

“I’ll do everything to make my girlfriend happy,” he whispers against your lips. 

Those words free some little butterflies in your stomach, and you can’t help but smile at his words. Never before have you been this happy. You rest your head against his chest. Every day for the past months, you’ve been feeling extra lucky. Jungkook holds you tight in this heartfelt embrace. 

“I’m so lucky to have you,” you mutter. 

Even if you thought he didn’t listen to you, he did but said nothing. All he did was smile like an idiot and feel even more grateful to have met you. 

His entire life he thought he’d never manage to find someone because it’s been hard to find someone that looks beyond his body. Every girl that he meets simply wants to have sex with him. The combo of being in the military and having a buff body has attracted many girls, but they crave something that he doesn’t want. Plus, he’s also quite shy so he feels awkward every time he’s around a good-looking girl.  

But he fell hard for you. And every day, he falls even harder, something he never thought possible. 

He presses a gentle kiss on your head. “We should start eating before it gets too cold,” he informs you. You nod before breaking apart from him. 

He suggests putting the flowers on the little coffee table that he put in one corner. You look once more around you, it astonishes you how wonderful his place looks when being lit up by candles. Jungkook takes the time to admire his marvelous girlfriend, you. You’re wearing a light pastel orange dress, it’s a nice dress you found in Zara. A bit expensive but a pretty one for a date. 

The dinner goes quite well, but you both drink a lot of wine. To some extent, it was a way for you to relax a bit, you’re quite obviously a bit nervous. Your boyfriend notices it. However, he understands it. The sexual conversations have turned him on, and his girlfriend is extremely sexy. Every time he lays eyes on you, he can’t help but think that you’re the sexiest woman he has ever seen. Even his exes don’t even get close to how sexy you are. 

And that dress you’re wearing, uff… he can’t even think properly. 

Jungkook is aware that you haven’t shared an intimate moment with a man in a while so he perfectly understands your nervousness. His last intercourse happened like 8 months ago, it was with a girl Iseul was trying to set him up with. Needless to say, a couple of days later, it ended. 

As the gentleman that he is, he doesn’t try anything nor does he say anything sexual. His priority is to make you feel safe around him. He can wait, there are other ways to relieve himself while he patiently waits for you to be ready. On your side, you’re genuinely thankful he exhibits great patience with you.  

In the end, you ended up falling asleep in his bed with him. Both of you wanted to spend the night together. For sure, you’re aware that there are some chances that you end up making love but with the alcohol in your system, it kind of makes you less nervous about it. 

In the middle of the night, you’re both woken up by a strange noise. At first, it definitely seems weird but quickly, the noise is accompanied by moans. You blush as you realize that Jungkook’s neighbors are having sex. You hide yourself under the blanket, and it makes Jungkook chuckle. 

“It’s not funny,” you tell him. 

“It is,” he says as he joins you under the blanket. 

There’s barely any light so you can’t properly see him. 

“It’s so embarrassing to hear people making love.” 

“Why so?” he raises. 

“Because it’s supposed to be an intimate moment and knowing that neighbors can hear you destroys the intimacy of the moment,” you answer. 

A little smile appears on his face. He undoubtedly finds you extremely adorable, and it’s incredibly obvious that it’s been a while since your last intercourse. When it comes to sex, sometimes, he feels like he’s older than you due to the obvious fact that he has some more experience. In reality, you’re older than him but most of the time, it doesn’t feel like it.     

“They don’t even realize that,” he says.  

“How could they? I mean, they should know that they are being loud.” 

“They are enjoying the moment and not realizing that they are moaning a bit too loud,” he adds. “Don’t you remember the last time you made love?” he asks. “Normally, you’re so absorbed that you don’t even comprehend if you’re making too much noise or not.”   

For a minute, you think about it. He’s not wrong, when you’re in the moment, you only care about the pleasure, not about the noises nor how dirty sex can be. It’s just you and your partner. 

“They definitely sound like they’re having fun,” he teasingly adds. 

You know that he’s trying to lighten the mood but you’re still slightly embarrassed. You try to relax a bit, this is a natural thing. Couples make love, even strangers have sex for fun. In any case, it’s normal. There’s no need to be ashamed or embarrassed. 

“For sure,” you reply with a little smile. 

Jungkook is glad that you’re replying to his little tease. Your boyfriend gets a little closer to you, his hand caressing your arm. 

“Even under the blanket, we can perfectly hear them,” he retorts. 

You chuckle at his words. You’re grateful that he’s trying to make you feel comfortable. For you, it proves once more how beautiful on the inside he is. 

“But let me tell you that they are even louder during the day,” he tells you. “They make love a lot of time.” 

“Oh, so you’ve been listening to this quite a lot?” you ask. 

“Yep,” he simply says. “On a Friday evening, when I come back from the army, I get to hear them all night long to my greatest delight. And don’t be here on a Sunday…” 

Now, it’s a little laugh that escapes your lips. This sound is what warms your boyfriend’s heart. He loves to hear you laugh, and what he adores more is to see the way your face lights up. Right now, he can’t see your face well so he pictures it.   

“It mustn't be funny,” you say. “It also explains why we barely come here.”

“Eeeh, you finally get it,” he states. 

His hand moves higher to reach your cheek and he keeps doing some circles to shoote you. It certainly works. 

“They are always on fire so it’s better to avoid being here,” he adds. “Especially when I was single.” 

“So now that you’re not single, it’s easier?” you ask while raising an eyebrow. 

A smile appears on his face. Having you has made everything easier. And for sure, it’s less of a torture to hear his neighbors having sex because all he can think about is you.

“For sure, I can think of my wonderful girlfriend to distract myself from this torture.”   

Now, your hand moves to his cheek to caress it. Your boyfriend closes his eyes when your soft fingers touch him. 

“I still don’t get how such a wonderful man like you had trouble finding someone,” you express. 

His hand places a strand of hair behind your ear. 

“Nice men have trouble finding someone,” he informs you. “Girls usually prefer bad boys over a guy that treats them right. I was shy too so it definitely didn't help and being in the army only attracted women who wanted sex. I was never interesting enough.” 

You can hear his voice breaking at the end. It hurts to hear those words, especially coming from a man with a golden heart. In just over 3 months, he has made you feel so special like no other man has before. 

But he only states the truth. Most girls chase bad boys, almost as if they hope to change them into nice boys but it’s never the case. They always end up breaking their hearts. Nice men are not seen enough, and it breaks your heart, especially since now you’re dating one. 

“You are more than interesting, Jk,” you say. 

You press a soft kiss on his lips. 

“You’re the first girl that truly sees me for who I am.” 

This breaks your heart even more. Jungkook deserves the world, and he deserves more than anybody else to be happy. 

“And you’re the first man that truly sees me for who I am,” you instantly tell him. 

His neighbors are still making love but now you don’t hear them, you are simply absorbed by each other. There’s only you. The world around you completely disappeared. 

Now, it’s Jungkook who presses a gentle kiss on your lips. His lips are so soft on yours, the tenderness of the kiss making your heart melt completely. However, this gentle kiss slowly turns into a passionate and fervent one. A kiss that speaks a thousand words. A kiss that says that you love each other. A kiss that makes you both feel seen. It’s a kiss that you both craved for years.  

You’re deeply kissing each other, and by the looks of it, this kiss is for sure going to take a heated turn. A turn that both of you want. You’ve been obviously nervous about this but right now, there’s nothing more that you crave. Your only wish right now is to feel even more loved by this wonderful soldier. 

His impatient hands move down to your waist to bring you even closer to him. They run up and down your waist, making you more than happy to have his large tattooed hands on your body. Your hands, on the other side, go to his hair to softly run through it. 

“I’ve fallen so hard in love with you, yn,” he says as he breaks the kiss. 

As much as you can, you look at him with an idiot smile on your face. There are millions of fireworks inside you caused by what he just said. There’s no more doubt that you’re madly in love with this man. He owns your heart. 

“Maybe not as much as I did,” you add.       

Jungkook presses a peck on your lips before he kisses the corner of your lips down to the underside of your jaw, causing little moans to escape your mouth each time his lips touch your skin. Jungkook is making you feel alive and also driving you into complete euphoria. Even though you’re starting to get lost, you’re slowly realising what is about to happen. You’re going to make love with your boyfriend.  

In the end, there was no reason to feel nervous to share an intimate moment with your boyfriend. He loves you. And he will obviously do everything to help you feel good.  

He drops his head to your neck, kissing the base of your throat. You moan as he starts leaving a trail of kisses, the feeling of his mouth on your throat is divine. Everything he does exceeds all your expectations. Regardless of your nervousness, you of course dreamt of what it would be to have sex with him. So far, he’s undoubtedly surpassing all of your expectations.  

Your hands run through his hair, tugging at the roots. A moan escapes his pretty lips, his voice vibrating against your skin. This slowly starts to feel like heaven. His lips move up again to meet yours for another fervent kiss. 

“It’s getting too hot under this blanket,” he affirms. 

“Yep,” you manage to say. 

Jungkook removes the blanket from your bodies, and you can finally see him somewhat better. His short hair looks messy, causing a bright smile to appear on your face. Instantly, the urge to run your fingers through his hair comes across your mind. There’s no need to say that you did it, and that he loved feeling your fingers in his hair. 

“You’re breathtakingly beautiful,” he whispers while his eyes scan your face. 

“Thanks, Jk,” you smile at him. “And you’re the prettiest man I’ve ever laid eyes on.” 

The way you both make each other feel is so indescribable but you’re absolutely sure to have found the right person. You make each other feel special. 

“I want to make love to you, yn,” he lets you know. “I’m craving you so much.” 

You kiss him. You also crave him in an unimaginable way. His large hands caress your waist while you both look intensely at each other before you uncover your bodies frim the blanket. In a matter of seconds, you’re fully naked in front of each other. Your eyes glance down at his cock. In all honesty, it’s quite big.

“It’s massive,” you look up at him. “How have you been hiding it in your pants?” he giggles at your words.

“That’s something that I’ve been wondering every day for the past 3 months,” he says, clearly making you understand that he gets pretty hard around you every day. 

Without any warning, you wrap your hand around the base of his dick. This sudden move surprises him which causes him to whimper. Your eyes watch down at his impressive crotch. The head is red, precum running down his length and over that prominent vein that lines it. You rub your thumb over the tip before going down on his shaft, spreading his arousal all over him. A deep moan leaves his lips as your hands finally touch him, his head falling completely on the pillow.       

“Oh,” he growls. 

Slowly, you start pumping him, taking your time, your hand gliding up and down his length. A trail of groans leaves his lips while you pump him nice and slow, giving him a dreamy handjob. Every time your hand reaches the base, Jungkook shivers, loving deeply how you’re pleasing him.

Your boyfriend is a bit surprised by the fact that you’re doing this handjob quite amazingly. Sometimes, with your reactions when it comes to sex, he forgets that you had exes so for sure you have some experience. Maybe not a lot but it’s still something. And now, he’s realizing that you perfectly know how to do things.   

On your side, you want to give him more. You know your hand is just not enough, he needs more to come undone. So you dip down to kiss the head of his cock, his eyes instantly opening as this is unexpected. You lick his tip, his precum coating your wet muscle before you wrap your mouth entirely around his cock, sinking down fully on his length. 

“Damn, yn,” he groans, loving the warmth of your mouth around him. He swears that he’s about to fall apart, covering your mouth with his cum. 

Your eyes look up to meet with his. The moment they lock ⏤ both your eyes completely filled with lust ⏤ he looks away, too scared to burst right there. As much as he’d love to fill your pretty mouth with his seed, he doesn’t want to come right now. There’s still so much to be done. 

“Love,” he says while his hand moves down to your hair, grabbing it before pulling your head a little. “I don’t want to come right now.” 

Your lips leave his length, letting it slap against his lower abdomen before you crawl up his body to kiss him again languidly. Jungkook can taste his salty precum on your lips and he adores it. Damn, he loves everything about this moment with you. 

“Do you have a condom?” you whisper on his lips. 

“Of course, angel,” he replies. 

Well, he always has some condoms in his bedroom as well as in his wallet. He’s always prepared in case anything like this happens. Even if he adores you, there’s no way that he’s doing it without protection. Your health is more important than anything else and also, it’s way too soon to take the risk of having a baby. 

While he stands up to grab a condom in a drawer of the nightstand, you lay on your back, your eyes looking up at the ceiling. Strangely, you feel extremely happy that you’re taking this step in your relationship. It’s creating a deeper connection between you. A very intimate bond. When Jungkook gets back on the bed with his condom in his hand, he bites his bottom lip. 

“You’re so beautiful, love,” he whispers, scanning every part of your body. You’re even prettier than in his dream. 

The man doesn’t waste any time ripping the plastic and putting the condom on his length. Honestly, you ignore what to do so you simply watch him. On his knees, he gets closer to your body and he slowly and delicately spreads your legs. For a brief moment, he gazes at your core, causing him to bite his lower lip. While holding his cock, he brushes it against your pussy to get you wetter. He wants you to be as wet as possible to be ready for him. 

“Can I?” he asks. 

It melts your heart that this man asks for your consent before going any further. Rare are the men who did it before. Once again, it proves to you that you found the right person.   

When you nod, he slowly buries his thick cock inside your soaked core, stretching your velvety walls. His large hands find their way to your waist, caressing your soft skin while his doe eyes filled with lust look into yours. Both of you groan as he slowly pushes his long and thick cock inside you.  

“So good,” you mumble as your eyes roll back. 

You have to admit that it hurts a bit since it’s been a while since you last had sexual intercourse but the fact that he’s slowly filling you up to the brim helps. It gives time to your body to get used to this massive intrusion. But it feels so damn good to have him inside you. This is even better than in your wildest dreams. Jungkook leans closer, pushing his cock a bit deeper inside you and snatching a loud moan out of you. 

“It feels so good, love,” his deep voice groans in your ear. “Even better than in my dreams.” 

The fact that he has been dreaming about this too gets you wetter. In a way, it makes sense to you since you’ve had some heated exchanges. You kiss his shoulder before giving it a gentle bite. 

“Oh, looks like the prude yn hides a wild side of her,” he teasingly says while pulling back a bit. 

“Good girls are bad girls that haven’t been caught,” you sing, making reference to a band, 5 Seconds of Summer, that you love. 

“Couldn’t agree more with that sentence,” your boyfriend adds as he keeps pushing back to only leave the tip of his cock inside you. 

Brutally, he pushes his cock fully inside you, and a loud moan leaves your lips. For a little while, he doesn't move, hovering over you and watching you with delight. His eyes look down on your body. He’s surprised by how insanely perfect you are. Your body is for sure the prettiest one he has ever seen. 

Unlike what everyone thinks, he’s not fond of skinny bodies. He loves curves and imperfect bodies because they show life. They show that their owners eat to live, and your curves drive him crazy. He could come just by looking at your ass.  

His lips meet yours for a sloppy kiss before going down to your neck, leaving another trail of kisses on your skin. Needless to say, it makes you moan a bit more. Once he has tortured you enough, his eyes get lost in your body again, groaning as he watches himself buried deep inside you. 

“Uff, you’re driving me crazy, my love.”

You close your eyes, completely enjoying having him fully inside you. You’re completely euphoric at the feeling of him stretching your walls. Once he sees that you’re ready to take more, he pulls back brutally before slamming himself back into you. The bed under you squeaks, the headboard hitting the wall just behind you. The slick sound of your pussy soaking his cock as well as your moans quickly fill the room. 

“Jungkook,” you gasp while he thrusts into you.

This all causes sparks of pleasure to shoot throughout your body, your arousal dripping from your core and creaming his cock. Jungkook smirks as he notices the sticky mess you’re causing. You grip the sheets as hard as possible to steady yourself from Jungkook’s hard thrusts. 

Neither of you can believe that this is happening tonight. In some way, you’re grateful that his neighbors started having some nasty time. Without them, probably nothing would have happened. You can’t even believe you were so nervous and embarrassed minutes ago. And now, you’re making love with the man you love.  

“You’re so wet, love,” he hisses before biting his lower lip. His hands press harder into your skin when he feels your walls tighten around him. “And making such a mess on my cock.” 

Every time he pushes his hips back, he watches with delight the way his cock is completely covered with your arousal. Nothing drives him crazier than seeing this, it is as if your bodies were made for each other.  

Jungkook bends down, pressing a sloppy kiss on your lips while his thrusts slow down. A desperate whine gushes from you, a sound that he proudly swallows. His hands go up to your body, grabbing your breasts and squeezing them to make you moan with desire before his mouth goes down on your body to play with your nipples. 

“It feels so good,” you whine. 

His thrusts are slow and harsh again, and his teeth on your nipples are just too much for you. Gradually, Jungkook begins to thrust hard into you again, and you moan at the feeling of his brutal thrust. Your walls suck his cock as he slams his hips into you with more force. Everything that your boyfriend does pushes you closer and closer to the edge. 

His eyes look up at you, contorting with pleasure as it slowly builds within you. Little moans keep flooding out of your mouth, and Jungkook is adoring to hear you moan. His hands can feel the way your body quivers with each thrust. The way he’s torturing your body is only making you lose yourself further. He just knows how to pleasure you perfectly like he became a master of your body in just some minutes.   

“Your cunt is clenching so hard, love,” he says when he feels the warmth of your walls wrapping tighter around him

As you glance up at him, you can’t help but find him extremely attractive. His eyes stare down at you with passion and lust as his tongue licks his lower lips. He simply can’t believe that this is really happening. He can’t believe that he’s making love to the prettiest woman in the world. He leans forward once more to press another sloppy kiss on your lips. He loves to feel your lips on his, even if the kiss is a disaster. 

“Oh my god,” you barely manage to say while you have a first orgasm. Your body shakes crazily, and Jungkook is happier than ever to see you being overwhelmed by pleasure.   

The vision of you coming undone makes his cock twitch inside of you. However, he wants you to experience more orgasms. There’s no way that he’s going to end this moment without having you come more than once. One of his hands slowly goes down on your body, passing your stomach, and landing on your throbbing clit. His fingers start to rub your sensitive spot. 

To be honest, this action only makes your orgasm more intense and longer. Your arousal completely covers his cock and your walls squeeze him over and over again. This is heaven for him. He could stop right now and he’d be more than happy because he gave you a lot of pleasure. 

He speeds up the pace of his hips slamming into you. The coil in his lower stomach tightens inside of him, and it completely clouds his thoughts. His increase in pace causes you to have a second orgasm in a matter of seconds.  

Breathy whines escape his pretty lips as he looks down at the mess you’re making on his cock. A desperate moan leaves his mouth when his orgasm hits him hard. His eyes roll back with pleasure as his body tenses up and releases his load inside the condom. He collapses next to you, both of your bodies covered in sweat after this intense sex session. Your heavy breathing is now the only thing that can be heard in your bedroom. 

Jungkook throws the condom on the floor before laying again next to you on his bed. His eyes look at you with marvel. You’re so damn wonderful. 

“Uff, love! This was something,” he says as he presses a gentle kiss on your cheek. “Did you enjoy it?”

Even though you had 2 orgasms one after the other, he still wants to make sure that you loved this steamy session. 

“Of course!” you directly answer. 

Your lips find his for a little kiss. 

“I’m glad to hear that!” a bright smile appears on his face. 

As you look at your delighted boyfriend, you feel a wave of happiness wash over you. Yep, this is what you’ve been desiring for years. Being this in love and sharing such a wonderful intimate moment with the person you love is what you’ve been looking for. 

Right there and then, you comprehend what you were made for. You were made to fall in love with Jungkook.

[bbyg4rl]

sunday church

cw: JJ x kook!reader, no established relationship, smut ! angst, sad ending.

summary: JJ went to sunday church for one reason and one reason only, to have his way with the pastors daughter. MDNI

< exhibitionism, sort of revenge sex, praise and degradation, angst, size kink and innocence kink if u squint, cockdrunk!reader, little overstimulation and cockwarming, sex near/in church >

a/n: im sry ending is sad 😭 also if u are religious i doubt you would appreciate this plot so pls DNI !!!

it started as revenge. revenge against the pastor, your father, who called him a filthy pogue, your father, who had turned the whole congregation against John B, calling him a "killer" every chance he got. it made JJ's blood boil, he wanted to kill him.

"fucking kook bitch" he muttered under his breath as your father was giving a sermon, drawing his eyes away from your father to look at you, only to catch you already staring at him. nobody quite understood why JJ continued attending church even after the rest of the pogues stopped going to church. but you knew. oh you knew. to him, fucking you was revenge for your father's words against him and his friend. ruining the pastor's daughter was his perfect revenge.

you sat at the front, occasionally turning back to glance at the man who had you shaking and screaming moments before the sermon started. every time you turned back, he turned to look at you too, smirk plastered on his face. it was like he had a sixth sense. you quickly turned your attention back to your father and his sermon. you couldn't be caught staring at a pogue now, could you? all of this had become a part of your sunday morning routine for a few months now.

you couldn't even remember how it started but every sunday no matter what, JJ would meet you behind the church, where your father parked his car. you'd tell your father to head inside alone and that you were going to wait for your "friends". and every time, as soon as your father headed in, as if on cue, JJ would appear behind you, strong hands wrapping around your waist as he pulled your hips into his, leading you to the back of your father's car. he never had you inside the car. only against. it was as if he wanted someone to catch you both, fucking you out in the open like that.

every sunday he'd have your back against the car, begging, crying out, cumming, squirting, screaming and moaning. It was a wonder how nobody had caught you guys yet with how loud you guys were.

when you guys first started your routine JJ wouldn't even look at you, he'd say to you "shut up and don't make a fucking sound" turning you around to fuck you from behind. if you got too loud he'd shove your panties in your mouth. he squeezed and spanked your ass as his cock bottomed out in you repeatedly, he was so big. he knew you struggled to take him in fully but it only made him want you stuff you more. you couldn't think properly when his dick was pumping inside you. your eyes rolled back as your moans were subdued by the panties in your mouth. he always had you cumming on his cock multiple times, legs shaking and thighs contracting because of how overstimulated you were.

but all that was a thing of the past, it had been a few months since ur routine started, JJ eventually warmed up to you, he'd let you look at him now, let you say his name. at this point there was no need to keep going. John B was back, his name was cleared. the pastor had even apologized to the pogues. there was no reason for him to continue meeting you before church and to fuck your brains out. but he kept coming. why? because he was in love with your pussy, because he loved watching as your face contorted in pleasure mixed with pain as he sank into you, because he loved seeing your eyes roll back as you finished around him, because he loved watching you struggle to walk in church with a pussy filled with his cum and an ass bruised by his hand, and because as much as he'd like to ignore it, he was falling in love with you.

every time his name slipped out of your mouth his heart did a backflip. eventually, he'd started thinking about you apart from sunday church, he'd started noticing little things like how you touched your neck when you were nervous, how you bit your tongue when you were focused, how every time you looked at him there was warmth in your eyes, and a smile on your face. it made him smile, it made him feel safe. but it also broke his heart knowing you could never be his. afterall, you were a kook and he wasn't.

that's why he treasured what little he could have of you. if he could only see you on sunday mornings, then he'd make the most out of them. he'd look you in your eyes while telling you how good you make him feel, he'd call you beautiful as he had your legs on his shoulders, cock deep in your pussy and your back against dad's car. he'd gone from calling you a whore to calling you his whore.

he'd put you and your pleasure first, sometimes not even finishing himself off because he was too busy playing with your clit and making you cum while he was balls deep and unmoving in your pussy.

he never wanted to take you from behind anymore, he wanted to look at your pretty face and drown in your eyes as he fucked you slow and deep. rubbing circles against your clit as he moved, pushing you and himself closer and closer to the edge.

now, every fuck ended with him pushing your hair away from your face and giving you a slight peck on your cheek. he never told you he loved you but you could see it in his eyes, you only hoped he could see the same in your eyes. you loved him too. but you knew your parents would never approve. you were from two different worlds. you watched as he turned away from you and walked into the church, you'd enter after waiting for a few moments to stop any suspicion from raising. you wanted to tell him you loved him too but maybe some things are better left unsaid. maybe these stolen moments and fleeting glances were all you'll ever have.

check out my other works ! masterlist

[thegreenlynx]

Girlfriend Stealer

Description: Your company pairs you with one of your boyfriend’s band mates for a collab, specifically a dance performance and your boyfriend is not pleased.

Pairing: Lee Know x Reader

Genre: Slight Angst, Hurt/Comfort, idol au, fluff

Content Warnings: Idol Fem!reader insert, Jealousy, boobs, brief mentions of marriage, insecurities

Word Count: 4.1k

A/N: Ahahaha...ha...

Life as an idol was naturally chaotic. You had grown used to that chaos; the unpredictability, the strict schedules, the lack of time off, missing milestones with your loved ones, having to be careful of everything you do, and having your privacy invaded on multiple occasions. Despite this, somehow you'd managed to keep it together and had even made quite the name for yourself as a dancer and singer. And to make it even better, you've landed yourself a very loving and sweet boyfriend. One you wouldn't trade for the world. 

Lee Minho is an angel, most of the time. He cooks for you, comforts you when you are sad, treats your cats like his own, he's funny, and he even makes sure to always make time for you. No matter how busy his schedule gets he tries to find any opportunity he can to see you, and when he can't? Well then he's sending you cute selfies and voice notes, and even calling you before bed.

Your relationship is very healthy, in a way unlike anything you ever could of hoped for. Your past relationships had done little to prepare you for the sense of security and genuine affection you felt with him. It felt as though you were genuinely made for each other, as cliché as that may sound. 

However, Minho had one troubling flaw. One flaw that many would have been deterred by, yet for some reason it had never been enough to keep you from him. The flaw was that Minho was extremely possessive. Almost alarmingly so.

He hates it when anyone even looks at what's his for too long. And if someone's touching it? You can practically see the steam fuming out his ears as he glares daggers into whomever has committed the heinous act of disrespect(In his eyes at least). 

That is why it is almost laughable, the situation you've found yourself in now. And never in 100 years would you have seen it coming. 

Both you and your boyfriend's companies had decided they wanted you to do a collab stage. Which sounds wonderful and exciting at first mention. The catch? You aren't collaborating with your sweet bunny-like boyfriend, but instead his perfectly sculpted bandmate Hwang Hyunjin.

You weren't really sure how to react to that really. After all it is an extraordinary opportunity, but on the other hand you know Minho. Truthfully you were hesitant to even tell him. He never takes these things well. It's bad enough when it is a stranger but one of his best friends? He might actually lose his mind. And as much as you'd like to hope he would just trust you and Hyunjin enough to let it go and be happy for the two of you, you know he won't.

Because to him it's not about trust. He can trust the both of you more than anyone else, with his own life even. It won't matter because what he's worried about isn't you cheating. It's that you'll realize you are out of his league and go for someone more on your level, or that you'll simply lose interest and leave him. He knows very well how fickle people's feelings can be. He also believes he loves you far more than you could ever love him. The idea of you leaving him isn't particularly out there to him. There is nothing in the world that terrifies him more than the idea of losing you. 

Additionally there is the matter that he may be a bit obsessive. If it were up to him no one would ever get your attention but him and he would probably bury himself in it, if only he could. He thrives in your affection and withers when it's gone too long. He makes a prominent effort to be the only one you ever look at, the only one you'd ever want. 

But that doesn't bother you. You like that he wants you enough to keep working to keep you even when he already has you, and even use it as motivation to try and treat him the same way. 

This is shown in the way you love him. The gifts you get him, the tiny acts of service, the cuddles even when you're in a bad mood and would normally want to be left alone, the hours you sit and listen to him rant about everything because you know he doesn't really do that with anyone else.

In this situation however, you aren't really sure what to do. It's never really been a problem before. Typically if someone were hitting on you or a friend was getting too close you'd just put some distance or leave with Minho. You normally avoid doing anything that might upset him, and it doesn't bother you in the slightest. You're an introvert anyway so it's not a problem if you only have a few friends and don't go out much without him. You still have your own hobbies, your own lives, it's fine. 

Even when the company has made you do things before, it's been easy to reassure Minho. He gets jealous and sulky for a bit and then you cuddle him and remind him he's the only one you want and everything's fine. What do you do when it's his friend though? You can't really say 'It's just a job' or 'I'll never see him outside of work'. Neither of those would be true and it's not going to make him feel better anyway. 

Because this is Hyunjin. Sweet, kind, sensitive, beautiful Hyunjin. One of his best friends Hyunjin. Hyunjin the damn near perfect model. Hyunjin the excellent dancer. Hyunjin the member the company picked over Minho. 

In the end, after contemplating for a few hours what exactly would be the least problematic way of telling him, you decide to just spit it out. Which ultimately leads to your boyfriend inviting himself to your practice. Which can only go well, naturally.

It hasn't even been five minutes and you can already feel your angry boyfriend's glaring eyes drilling holes into not only Hyunjin but you as well. You don't let it shake you, you need to get this dance down so you can go home and make him feel better. You can only imagine the way his insecure mind is spiraling, completely absurd and unrealistic thoughts taking over his normally rational and understanding way of thinking. The faster you finish this the less pain he will be in. So for now you need to ignore him. For both your sakes you try to pretend he's not even there.

Hyunjin on the other hand seems to be having a harder time of it. The typically near flawless dancer seems anxious, keeps glancing towards the couch your boyfriend is tensely lounging on, and he keeps making the same mistakes over and over again. No matter how many minutes go by of practicing the same part, no matter how many times you try and direct him, it's obvious his mind is elsewhere and his performance is suffering. 

The longer it goes on the more you feel yourself grow frustrated. Your fuse has gotten short, and the typically soft and kind tone you use with the taller man has reduced to a more biting one. You've managed to get about half way through the song, arriving at a more sensual part when you finally snap. Hyunjin refuses to actually get close enough to you for it to even be mistaken as the correct choreo and it's driving you nuts. You want to go home.

"What the hell is wrong with you?" You turn towards your dance partner in obvious annoyance, running a hand through your long hair. 

He blushes a bashful red and quietly responds. "I'm sorry, it's just hard to dance with Minho glaring at me through the mirror. I can't focus and it's honestly kind of terrifying..." He trails off and nervously glances at the mirror before looking at the floor in defeat. 

You sigh and turn to the boyfriend you haven't looked at in nearly an hour. He doesn't look back at you. Sporting the most murderous look you have ever seen such a delicate pretty face make, he simply glares at Hyunjin's figure. 

Feeling a mixture of irritation and guilt you turn away from both of them and tug at your hair in frustration, a joyless laugh falling past your lips. 

"I'm sorry, I'll try to focus..." You hear Hyunjin's pitiful whisper behind you, the poor guy didn't even do anything to be put in this position yet here you all are. You ignore him in favor of turning back towards Minho, marching towards him with determined strides. 

When you finally reach him he makes no effort to look at you and only squeezes his hands into fists at his sides. However you aren't really in the mood, so you rest both hands on either side of his head and shift your body into his line of sight. You let out a small portion of your built up aggression in allowing your hands to grip the black leather of the couch while your eyes narrow at the man below you. 

He finally looks up at you, an almost comical mixture of angry tiger and kicked kitten. His brows are furrowed and his cheeks are reddened in frustration, the tension in his muscles prominent from his rather impressive amount of self control(for him, at least). Yet his eyes twinkle up at you miserably, longingly. And it's heartbreaking really. How his lips tremble slightly and his eyes waver shakily under your gaze. He's doing a good job of hiding it, but you can see through it. He's not just angry; he's fucking terrified. And he's hurting, and that hurts you. 

"What are you even jealous about? It's just Hyunjin." Despite your prominent glare, you manage to keep your voice soft and even. You know it's not his fault. You know he's trying to keep it together, trying so hard to just sit there and be good for you. But you can see how he wants to cry, and maybe even walk over and punch Hyunjin right in the face. For good measure.

He clicks his tongue and looks away from you momentarily. He goes to speak before opting to instead whine and kick his feet in anger. You feel bad for finding him cute in this moment. But the truth is, he always is. "Yeah, it's Hyunjin. I'd be mad about anyone but me getting to touch you, let alone Mr. Top-Model girlfriend stealer over there."  He shoots another glare Hyunjin's way and you hear the other male gasp offended in response.

"Hey-!" He tries to chime in, in an attempt to defend himself against the allegation. However, you interrupt him like he's not even there so as to not allow him to unintentionally provoke your boyfriend any further. You grab Minho's chin gently with your right hand to tilt his head to look back up at you.

"You have nothing to worry about. I picked you, not Hyunjin. And I will continue to pick you and only you for the rest of my life. I understand that you're upset, I would be too. I don't like this any more than you do, but we don't have a choice."

He just huffs and rolls his eyes at you, dipping his head slightly to glare back at Hyunjin through the mirror once more. "I could just break his legs, then he wouldn't be able to dance with you at all." You laugh and roll your eyes right back at him. 

"I'm not asking you to be happy about it. But if you behave and stop trying to kill Hyunjin with your eyes at least till the end of practice so we can get this over with, I promise I'll make it up to you later." You take a firmer grip of his chin to get his attention back on you, nails digging slightly into his skin to prevent him from moving as you tilt his head up again. 

He only stares defiantly back up at you, not convinced. So you lean down and kiss him softly, continuing in a whisper Hyunjin won't hear. "Just be good and I'll make it all worth it. You know I'll only ever belong to you. Get out of your head. You've got demons up there and they're liars, they only make you sad and nothing they say is ever true."

"...fine..." It comes out in a barely audible breath whilst he deflates at your words, seeming to have all of the energy left in him drained as he slumps into the couch in defeat.

And he stays true to his word, with great difficulty he manages to be good the rest of practice. He does this by laying face down into the sofa and periodically thrashing around in anger with a bizarre sound muffled into the cushions, but he isn't glaring at Hyunjin anymore and that is Minho being on his best behavior in your book. 

Because of this you are able to get the dance down fairly swiftly, with Hyunjin no longer distracted he's quick to pick up on the choreo and your chemistry is surprisingly good. You know it'll make a great performance, you also know that will royally piss Minho off. A problem for another day, however.

As soon as you and Hyunjin have got the dance down, you dart straight to your throw blanket-impersonating lover. You don't even wait for him to stand before you're dragging him off the couch by his hand. He scrambles to catch up to your pace without faceplanting, barely succeeds, and shuffle runs behind you as you speed walk towards the exit and then to your car.

You don't say anything during the walk, just tighten your hold on Minho's hand. He doesn't either, seemingly happy just to have you back for now. But, you can tell he's still a bit anxious. Perhaps he's worried you are mad at him now, or that you're just dragging him around so you can break his heart in private. In truth it's hard to predict where his mind will go in these situations. Which is exactly why you want to get home as soon as possible. So that it's less time where his demons can eat him alive. But you desperately need a shower, and you don't want to try to comfort him in the middle of a parking lot.

So waiting until you're home it is! The car ride is quiet too; you spend the whole car ride trying to think of what to say or do to make your boyfriend feel better, remind him that in your eyes there's only him and that you couldn't be happier with anyone else. He spends the entire car ride anxiously playing with your hand and glancing periodically at your face, a wounded expression taking over his own. Which goes entirely unnoticed by you, too busy trying to find a way to fix this to realize he just wants you to look at him. But he won't say anything until you do, too afraid of somehow saying the wrong thing or making it worse. Too afraid the demons are actually right. 

Thankfully the ride is fairly short, and you quickly get out of the car and open his door for him. Taking his hand gently into your own and guiding him to the front door of your house, kicking off your shoes and barely waiting for him to take his off before you continue dragging him. This time towards your bedroom, and with far more care than in the practice room. 

When you arrive in your room you softly push him to sit on the bed, which he happily flops onto with no resistance. "I need to shower quick, wait for me?" You press a soft kiss to his head as he nods, eager to be good for you. He makes himself comfy and watches you walk away with sparkles in his eyes, a stark contrast to the scowl he'd displayed earlier in the day. You can't help but smile in response, grabbing a change of clothes and heading to the bathroom. 

Your shower is quick, not wanting to leave him waiting too long. But, even so by the time you get back he's sulking again. Anxious hands playing with the blanket he's staring intensely at. You can almost see the gears turning rapidly in his head and have to bite back a sigh, wondering if there is some way you could have handled this better. Some way he wouldn't have had to spend so long doubting himself and fighting his demons all alone. You had never done that before, always had been so quick to try to alleviate any pain he had. But for some reason this time, while you had thought about it many times, you didn't really do a lot to make him feel better. Nothing that seemed to work anyway, every attempt you made didn't seem to come across right to him. 

It makes him wonder why this time had to be different, why you couldn't just comfort him the way you always had before. All he needed was a bit of affection, some reassuring words to know you really were his and you weren't going anywhere. That you really meant it and weren't just saying things in the practice room to get him to stop being a brat. Was it because it was your job? Because you were frustrated? Because of something Minho had done? Because of... Hyunjin? The last two didn't really make any sense though, but that never actually made a difference in his head.

It is only now that you really realize that you've both been running in circles. With you trying to be faster in order to get alone time with him, to comfort him. Only to end up hurting him more by ignoring him in the moments he needed you, even if your intentions were good. You had just wanted it to be over so you could give him your undivided attention, you didn't want anything to get in the way. 

And he kept trying to be good for you. Even when it was hard and he didn't succeed much, he tried to keep his thoughts and feelings to himself to not ruin this for you. To not make you hate him or resent him, or give you any reasons to fall out of love or leave him. He was trying so hard, being so careful. Being so patient. He wanted so desperately to be the best for you, to be worthy of your love and be the only one you wanted. Even while his head was tumbling into the darkest places and his heart felt like it had been wrapped in chains. Someone pulling them tighter every moment Hyunjin touched you, every moment you didn't look at him while he prayed and pleaded you would. 

He didn't voice his thoughts in fear of upsetting you, or putting you off. But they had been eating him alive the entire time. To the point where no matter how many times he'd told himself you loved him and wouldn't leave him he still felt like you were going to. That that was the only explanation for you pawning it off this long. For a moment when you'd gotten to the room he had finally started to feel better, the brief moments he had your attention felt like sunshine in his raging storm. When you went to shower he had wanted to be positive, to just wait patiently for your return, just be happy he'd gotten a kiss. But the second you left, his head went right back to the storm and you'd taken any comfort or solace to the bathroom with you. 

You didn't actually need a shower, you just wanted to get away from him. Maybe you were avoiding him so you didn't have to tell him you would rather be with Hyunjin. He'd probably treat you better anyway, wouldn't be nearly so pathetic and insecure. He tries to shut his thoughts off, but instead a tear falls and you rush over and pull him into your chest. Now he just feels stupid for crying in front of you like a child. 

And so he tries to pull away and wipe his tears, make some stupid excuse about a hair in his eye. You don't let him, pulling away first and laying down beside him. Before he can even hope to speak, he's pulled down on top of you. Head resting in his favorite spot, right between your breasts. He chokes down a sob as you card your fingers through his hair, a sigh escaping his lips when his body finally relaxes. 

You take this opportunity to speak. "I'm so sorry"

"...For what?" It's muffled by your shirt, and you feel him nuzzle further against your chest. Likely in embarrassment. 

"I've done this all wrong. I thought it'd be better for you if we just hurried home but I didn't realize you'd take it the way you obviously have and I feel terrible. I am not leaving you. I would never leave you. I want to marry you one day. I don't want Hyunjin. I love you, only you. I really just wanted to shower so I wouldn't stink when we cuddled. I didn't look at you in the car because I was so focused on getting home. I wanted to wait till we were home to talk. I wanted to give you my undivided attention. I wasn't thinking. I'm sorry." You kiss the top of his head between each of your sentences, hoping to be louder than the voices. Hoping to drown out any negative thoughts he could be having. 

"Oh..." He breaths, finally lifting his head to meet your eyes after a few seconds of processing your words. "M'sorry too. You shouldn't have to worry about reassuring me so much. I should be more confident, I just don't want to lose you." He sighs and plays with a strand of your hair, twirling it between his fingers. "Can we just cuddle?"

"Of course." You smile happily, glad he seems to be genuinely feeling better now that you have given him the proper reassurance he deserves, rather than some rushed words in the middle of a practice room. 

"You did great with the dance by the way..." He says bashfully as he nuzzles into your neck, tossing a leg over your own. 

"You actually saw that with your face in the cushions?" You look down at his red ears and pinch one softly between two fingers. 

He squeezes your hip in retaliation. "Meant before that. When Hyunjin was fumbling like a goon. All I could think is 'why the hell didn't they pick me?' You looked so perfect..."

"Thank you, I wish it had been. Hyunjin's great, but you're the only dancer for me." You reply in an attempt to flirt, accompanied by a playful boop to his nose.

"'Only dancer'? I am the only one for you. Period." He glares at you, pressing himself up on both arms to look down at your face. 

You laugh, looking up at the man now basically straddling your lap. "You're right, my bad. You're the only one for me, period." You lean up to kiss him fully this time, and he seems to lose himself in the kiss before pulling away a minute later, a sweet blissful smile on his face that could instantly brighten any room.

"Don't think I forgot that comment you made, by the way. I will be marrying you. I love you future Mrs. Lee Minho." He doesn't even let you reply before he's diving in for another kiss, a flurry of them really. He litters your face in the sweetest of kisses, ending it with one final passionate kiss on the lips. It only breaks when you laugh.

"Do I get a say in the matter?" 

"No." It's a firm response, and he seems to try to convince you further by leaning in to kiss you once more. This time slow, with the slightest tease of tongue, before he bites your lip and pulls back. Still straddling your legs, his ears suddenly flush again. "...You're gonna say yes though, right...?" You laugh at the drastic change in his attitude, but you love him no matter what.

"There's no other answer, of course I will Mr. Future Husband."

SKZ Works

[justlemmeadoreyou]

Trepidation^

Summary: (this ask) i was wondering if you could write one where harry feels a bit neglected when reader has an important meeting coming up or something, so she's missing date nights and stuff, a little angst if you please.

Word count: 2k

Pairing: boyfriend!harry x reader

Warnings: angst, fluff, swearing

masterlist | ask box

Harry sat alone in your dimly lit apartment, a heavy sadness weighing on his heart. He had been feeling neglected lately, as your demanding job had taken precedence over your relationship. It seemed as though each passing day brought more missed date nights and canceled plans, leaving him with a growing sense of loneliness and insecurity.

Tonight was supposed to be your special date night, a chance for you both to reconnect and forget about the outside world for a while. But once again, you had been called away for an important meeting, leaving Harry to face the emptiness of their once vibrant love life. Tears welled up in his eyes as he stared at the untouched dinner on the table, a painful reminder of what could have been.

Feeling a deep ache in his chest, Harry couldn't help but wonder if he was no longer enough for you. Thoughts of inadequacy and doubt filled his mind, tormenting him with the fear that he was being replaced by your demanding career. The anguished silence of the apartment only amplified his sorrow, as every passing second felt like a confirmation of his deepest fears.

His mind drifted to the countless nights you both had spent together, laughing, talking, and sharing their dreams. How you would hold your hands in his and you both would just lie in your shared bed, relishing in the comfortable silence and presence of each other. You had built a life together in the two years you had been with each other, promising to always prioritize each other's happiness. But now, it seemed as though those promises had been forgotten, lost in the chaos of your professional success.

He didn’t oppose your work, it was one of the things he respected the most about you. But, lately, it was all you cared about. You were about to get a promising position as a promotion in your job, and you were working day and night to make sure you got it. He supported you in that too. He started to stay home longer to take care of your dog, oreo. He even prepared meals for you throughout the day, making sure you got the proper nutrition for working so hard. He sent you multiple texts, checking in on you throughout the day.

But, completely prioritising your work might not have been the best idea. You had not been able to spend any time with your boyfriend, let alone sit and relax with him, in quite a while. It wasn’t your intention, but it had all gone south and you had to give all your time to your job. It was like Harry was the only one in the relationship now, and he felt like a one-sided lover.

The weight of his sadness grew unbearable, he questioned whether you still loved him or not. The ache in his heart was not just from the missed date nights, but from the sense of abandonment that had settled in your once warm and loving home, that shone with your love that lit it up.

Harry longed for the days when your presence brought him comfort and joy. He yearned for the laughter and the stolen moments of affection that had once defined their relationship. Now, all he felt was the sting of neglect and the bitter taste of unfulfilled promises.

He yearned for your presence, your touch, even a proper look at your pretty face.

As the night grew darker, Harry couldn't help but cry out silently, his tears blending with the shadows that engulfed him. He wanted nothing more than to be seen and cherished by you, to be loved by you, to feel the warmth of your love once again.

In the depths of his broken heart, Harry hoped that you would realize the pain you were causing and make a change. He yearned for the day when they could rediscover the love that had brought them together, and finally mend the broken pieces of your neglected relationship

Harry felt you slipping away, and he didn’t really know how to catch you.

With hot tears streaming down his face, he took off the jacket of the tuix he had worn for tonight. Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out the tiny box that held all of his feelings for you. Opening it, he revealed the shiny diamond ring that he had bought two months ago, before your relationship fell into a messy blunder.

A tear fell into the soft foam beneath the ring and he tried to wipe it off aggressively. He wanted to keep it safe and shiny and pretty, so he could give it to you when the time was right, and ask you to marry him. Now, he wasn’t even sure if you wanted that.

If he wanted that.

. . .

You came home quite late, and it was around 2 am on the clock. With a tote bag stuffed with bottles of alcohol and a smile that wouldn’t go away.

You had gotten the promotion.

“Harry?” you called around the house, as soon as you entered.

You reached the kitchen, where you found the table arranged, with plates and wine glasses.

Fuck.

You and Harry had a date.

How could you forget? You both had been planning this for so long, finally being able to make a plan and spend the night together. He had even gone shopping over the weekend to make you your favorite pasta, even though it was his holiday after a whole week of work.

How could you forget?

You reached the table and put the alcohol aside, looking at the casserole full of food.

He hadn’t eaten.

You felt heartbroken, all the happiness and glory you were carrying for the past few hours, fading away into a dull ache in your heart. He had put so much effort into making this night special and perfect. He bought the red wine you loved, made dinner for you, set up plates and was probably waiting for you for hours.

And you couldn’t even be bothered to text him.

A tear escaped your eyes, and you started to search for Harry throughout the house.

Entering the bedroom, you saw him there, sitting at the foot of the bed. He was wearing a suit.

A damn suit.

He had put so much effort, and all you had done was get drunk over a stupid promotion. You had completely ignored him, just caring about your job and the money you were going to get. All the while he cared about your relationship.

You did not deserve him.

You walked over to him, taking a look at his face. His cheeks were tear-stained, and he looked so broken and sad. In pain. That you had caused him.

He was crying, and had probably passed out on the floor, waiting for you.

Sitting down beside him, you pulled his hand into yours. You were drunk and sad, and he was asleep. You just decided to talk to him like that, so he wouldn't have to see your awful face.

"I'm so sorry, Harry. I’m so so sorry. And not just today. Everything. For every bit of pain that I have caused you, for every tear that rolled down your cheek because of me. I ignored you. I neglected you. I ignored our beautiful relationship. I ruined it."

Proper tears were flowing down your eyes now, clouding your vision enough to not realize that he had woken up and opened his eyes.

"I had it. I had you. I had fucking everything in my hands. And I ruined it. I just-I just can't keep good things when they come to me, can i? I just always have to go ahead and fuck everything up. Throw everything out for just a bunch of money? God, how pathetic is that? And you know-I wasn’t just doing it to earn some extra money. I did it because-because my working hours would be reduced and-and I would have to work less. Less work. More you. More Harry." you giggled at your sappiness, before continuing, "And I'm sorry, Harry. So fucking much. I really am. for ruining our relationship. For making you cry. For all the perfect efforts you did for us, and I-I just let it go down the drain. I'm so so sorry."

"And you know, I understand. I understand that you are angry with me, and don't ever want to talk to me ever again. For how bad i fucked up. And I" a few fresh tears flew down as you prepared yourself to say ``I-I would I would get it if you want to break up. Even I wouldn't want to be in a relationship with me."

"Hey! How could you say that!" you flinched, his raspy voice making you shiver.

"What-I thought you-you were asleep."

"I was. And thank god I woke up, because the one time you properly talk to me, is when you are drunk and I'm passed out."

You weren't sure if it was a joke, but it made your heart break even more.

"I'm really sorry…" you started to sob, and he quickly pulled you into his arms.

"Shh. Don't apologize. You've apologized enough. I get it. I really do. When I neglected our relationship-when I was releasing my new album or going on tour, you stayed strong throughout. You never made me feel like I was ruining our relationship. you helped and supported me, when I needed it the most. I wanted to do the same too, but I just-just kinda broke down today. It just all came crashing down on me."

Your face formed a pout, and he kissed you sweetly on your lips.

"It's alright. I understand. Don't think too much about all that stuff you just said. I mean-I was a bit sad, because I thought that I wasn't your priority anymore. I thought you loved your work more than me. And I do too, you know, sometimes. And I'm sorry if I made you feel like you aren't enough."

"So you won't break up with me?" you asked, another quiet sob escaping your lips.

"No, silly. Why would I break up with you? I want to support you even more now. Throughout your work till you get the promotion, I will be by your side. I won't let you feel less again. Ever."

You sat up straighter, wanting to give him the good news.

"About that. I-I uh, I got the-the promotion."

His face softened, and he looked so fucking happy.

"WHAT!?" He exclaimed, and pulled you in for a tight hug, that knocked out the breath from your lungs.

"Yeah. I got the promotion today. My project was finally approved and my interview was last week and I cleared it."

He was smiling so big, and there were tears flowing down his cheeks.

Not sad tears, happy ones.

Because of you.

"My sweet girl. I love you so much. And I'm so so proud of you. Gonna love on you so much tonight."

You smiled at his happiness, finally feeling the ache in your chest go away, into loads of butterflies from the way he was looking at you.

He held you tightly in his arms, his chest now swollen with pride for you. How much you have achieved. How much you worked hard, all the rough times you had to go through, but it was all worth it in the end.

After a few moments of holding each other, your stomach grumbled.

"You hungry?" he asked, swiping his thumb across the apple of your cheek.

"Yeah. You made pasta?"

"Mhm, your favorite. You are gonna love it."

"I know. I always do. And I love you, Harry."

"I love you too, sweet girl. Now go and clean yourself up. I'll put the food in the microwave and heat it. Hurry, I have lots of things I want to do tonight." he said, his left hand swiping across the ring box in his pocket.

. . .

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[avaf00rd]

Here with me

Leah Williamson x reader

Based off: HERE WITH ME - D4VD

Cried making this. It think it’s just the song anyways.

enjoy

————————————————————————

watch the sunrise along the coast

as we’re both getting old

I can’t describe what I’m feeling

You both sat up against a large rock, sitting on the sand. You somehow managed to get your girlfriend up at this ‘Godly hour’ to see the sunrise. You adored the sunrise and seeing it with your person made it 100 times better.

She rubbed circles and heart shapes on your thighs as she laid in your lap. The orange light already beaming onto her beautiful blonde and perfect features. “You look so beautiful I could cry” you said in an almost whisper to the girl in your lap.

“What?” She smiled, not quite getting what you muttered.

“I said you look so beautiful I could cry” you slightly giggled. It wasn’t a lie, just seeing her face gave you a sense of gratitude, the fact that someone just like her could love you somehow.

She gave you a sad smile. Not in a sad way. But in a way that, what you said got her in her feelings. “I tell you every flipping day but my girl I’ve never seen anyone like you” she said, quickly sitting up so she could peck your lips.

“I love you” you said for maybe the millionth time just since you got to the beach, deciding the quick peck on the lips given to you wasn’t enough, so you pulled her in for a longer kiss filled of love.

“I love you” she said once you had both pulled away. She settled herself to lay back down in your lap “can we just say here forever? Corny I know. But I never want to leave right here.” She said squeezing your hands she held close to her chest.

“Corny but, If I could have it my way I would stay here until we are old and grey”

“Ok Shakespeare” she giggled fidgeting with your fingers

“How is that Shakespeare?” You laughed at the blonde you held close

“You just have a good way with words” you smiled at her words.

“I could go on forever and ever about my love to you” you kissed the top of her head before you both fell into a comfortable silence, eyes fixated on the horizon.

So please don’t let me go

You both sat upright on a bench in the middle of the medical room at emirates stadium. You had just finished your match, that she was earlier pulled off from, when Leah was confirmed she had done her ACL, she knew the second she heard the pop and the pain that rushed thought her knee.

But hearing it straight up from a professional hurt. A lot. You held the girl tightly in your arms, she had completely collapsed into your chest once the medics said they would give you a second and shut the door behind them.

“Oh my girl. I’m with you every step. You’ve got me you’ve got me. Everything is going to be ok I promise you Leah” you reassured the crying girl balled up in your arms. You felt your voice start to crack with your words.

After 5-10 more minutes. Leah felt she had no more tears left to cry. “Baby what can I do for your right now” you asked quietly, kissing her forehead multiple times softly.

“Just don’t let go” she mumbled, you pulled her in even tighter as you held her.

“Never” you said, your chin resting on her head, as Leah sat there in thought.

I don’t care how long it takes

As long as I’m with you I’ve got a smile on my face

“I’m so excited to see you!” You exclaimed through your MacBook screen. You were currently in Australia for camp, Leah wasn’t at England camp as she was still in recovery after surgery.

“Don’t forget that little water bottle” Leah pointed to behind you though the screen, a spare water bottle of yours sitting high up on the window sill.

“Thank you honey” you chuckled after she pointed it out, you grabbing it. You would be heading downstairs to the lobby with almost of your luggage, heading back to London.

“You would not have seen that” she laughed

“Probably not” you said zipping up you carry on properly. “Okay baby I’ll call you on my plane, but I’ve gotta pack my computer and head down now” you said to the computer on the bench.

“No worries. And I’ll just contact you about picking you up. I think I’ve got the right time you’ll land”

“Yay” you smiled at her

“I’ll just wait at baggage and look for the brunette with the beaming smile. And the dark tan” she said motioning to the dark colour your skin developed while being back in your country.

“Love you” you blew a kiss at her through the FaceTime

“Love you more bye” she kissed back before hanging up.

All I know is your here with me

You held your girlfriend’s hand as you dragged her through the hall down to the right cinema. “Here, screen 3!” You said pointing to the large number outside the cinema door

Leah had already seen this movie multiple times, it was supposed to be scary. It was a rerun that they were playing in the movie theatre, you of course took at as the opportunity for a date night.

You held hands once you both get seated, Leah always slightly got annoyed at the large divider between seats at the theatre, which is why she preferred being able to cuddle you for hours in your apartment together whilst watching a movie.

Like most movies, you asked Leah multiple questions, most of them you knew the full answer to and what was going on. But you knew how much your girlfriend loved when you asked her questions in films, it made her happy explaining it to you and made her feel smart.

“Thanks for coming with me. I know you’ve seen it heaps. I just wouldn’t wanna see it with anyone but you” you whispered into her ear sweetly.

“Wouldn’t miss this, you’re the best person to see it with” she said into your ear, before quickly kissing below it.

Just after she pulled away, a jump scare on the large screen in front of you made your heart want to jump out of your skin. Leah quietly laughed at your antics and pulled you arm closer, bringing you head into the crook of her neck.

I wish I could live through every memory again

Just one more time before we float off in the wind

The day you married the love of your life and best friend was a million times better than any other day in your life you name ‘the best day of your life’. You truly could cry of happiness, and you already had, multiple times.

Your kept on having to hold your index finger to the bottom of your eyes as you read your vows, right hand in hand with hers, in front of all your favourite people in your life. But let those tears of happiness fall when she read her vows to you out loud.

You sat down at a table, long white dresses on both you and your newly wife, surrounded by your close families.

“Hey I’m Jacob, Leah’s brother and now y/n’s brother. Although it has always felt like you are a close sister to me since Leah introduced me to you” his words on the short stage made you heart melt. “Before I go on a long speech, not too long don’t panic, I just want to show two lovers a special video made by the people here tonight. We love you” he said slightly bring his champagne glass up towards you, before running to his computer connected to a cord on a projector.

He played a video on the large screen in front of everyone. The video had old vintage love songs as a background tune, as sweet videos of you Leah. Taken by you two and by others played. You immediately leaned into Leah as you both watched in awe. Just so happy. All your favourite memories with you and your wife played from when you first met at Arsenal at the age of 20, to now, as you were wiping tears away for the tenth time.

Then a series of videos played of people congratulating you on your marriage, like other high footballers and other special people in your life, as well as everyone at a table in the large room full of your loved ones.

You both went up and hugged him tightly, tears in your eyes, Leah told him over and over of how grateful for him she is.

Listening to your parents’ speeches and both your siblings of all the memories throughout your journey together made your life feel complete.

But today didn’t fill a piece of your life missing like most would, that last piece was placed in your life the moment Leah first ever said a word to you even years ago.

—————————

Short, but like always I must sleep now

Lyyy!!! Please send in requests🤍

[a-simple-imagine]

Tear apart the heart

synopsis: you just watched your girlfriend die right in front of you

pairing: victoria neuman x reader

words: 1k+

WARNINGS - themes of grief, blood, death, mention of body pieces

she promised you the world and instead, you got the most disgusting makeshift lab you ever had the displeasure of stepping inside. but it really didn't matter anymore.

that heavy feeling in your chest is brand spanking new. you search your brain for a comparison but it's like nothing you've ever felt before. it's almost suffocating. blocking off the one thing keeping you alive right now. air. gross, dingy air that was so polluted with chemicals and old take out, it almost knocked you sick but now a hint of copper joined this mix. an unwelcome change. a tickle against your cheek. you reach up to remove the tear. only it is red as it slips from the tip of your finger down your hand and to your wrist. you wanted to believe it was fake even as it trickled down your forearm. so desperate for none of this to be real. but deep down you know it is. it's blood. her blood. and maybe the droplets that adorn your skin should have been actually tears but they just never came. did that make youan evil person? undoubtedly. everyone cries when someone dies. it's like the first thing that's expected. but you just couldn't. what you felt inside wasn't sadness per se. or maybe it was. you couldn't tell. it didn't feel like when you were normally about to cry. this felt all-consuming. you felt rigid in this moment. unable to process anything. This wasn't ordinary. most people didn't watch the person they loved get ripped in two. weren’t drenched in tiny pieces of their girlfriend. it felt comical in a way. perhaps that was why you were having such a hard time acknowledging it. people don't just get ripped in half. this wasn't a comic book or some mid-budget horror film which gaineda startling cult following because they used practical effects instead of CGI for the gore but they didn't overdo it with the gore either. it was tasteful. no. this wasn't tasteful. you don't know what this is. you can hardly even look at her. you want to go back. dear god. you shouldn't have given in so easily.

"did you order the food?" you question, glancing up from her laptop that you had been playing on.

"What?" a brief blank expression that settles into a gentle smile. the kind of smile that doesn't quite reach her eyes. "no. sorry."

"Can I order something?" a silent nod puts you to work and decides what to have. "who were you talking to then- on the phone?"

"Hughie,"

the name alone forms a pit in your stomach. you used to think so fondly of him. you'd met him a great many times but that was before. "you can't be serious,"

"Just hear me out"

"no, Victoria- that man has tried to kill you multiple times," you express. "what could you possibly want from him?"

"out," a simple word. She cares not to elaborate as she walks closer to the kitchen aisle. taking her laptop, she spins it around to face her. "so what are we eating?"

"what do you mean out?"

she shrugs. "I want out. out of everything. I just- I can't do this anymore."

your heart beats a little faster. out of everything? out of this? that wouldn't explain the conversation with Hughie. although they used to be close friends. "what?"

"he's gonna help me get out of this mess," she expresses. "I think I wanted this for a while. like genuinely wanted it not just because of what was happening around me or stan or whatever. but now it's just not something that makes any sense."

"Vic,"

"It's pathetic really but I'm just never gonna be more than a puppet. and that's not what I want- I don't wanna be under anyone's control, y'know?"

"Sure," a lopsided smile with a hint of shrug. you didn't get it. felt like a few pieces of the puzzle were missing. a small sigh leaves her painted lips as she walks over to you. your eyes trail after her until you're staring into all too familiar eyes. usually so steely but today they possess a flicker of something different.

"Hughie is gonna help me get out. if I do this- if I help them bring down homelander then I just get to live my life away from all the bullshit. I realised all I want now is to be with Zoe. and with you too."

"Are we just skipping the part where he and his friends tried to murder you? how can we trust them?" you wonder what she can see in your eyes. the fear of what's to come. the joy of knowing she was willing to give up everything to be with you? That was a crazy thought. a crazy thing to admit. Victoria was gentle with you and loving but this felt like a different level of vulnerability. one you never saw from her.

"I'm not asking you to trust them," she holds your gaze, firm and pleading. "I'm asking you to trust me."

she had never steered you so wrong before. on shaky legs, you push yourself up off the dusty floor. brushing yourself off; little did it help. your heart races with your decision as 5 people - mostly strangers- surround you. you weren't a supe. you had no means to protect yourself here. they don't seem like they're gonna kill you as you turn around to find Hughie amongst them. he was covered in blood too. your girlfriend's blood. it was almost strange how fitting it was. That pit that once formed was now a silent rage as you stared at him. the man who Victoria trusted enough to come here. the man who promised her protection. the man who leads her to her death. he just stares back. a look of sympathy perhaps- no, pity. you take a deep breath and turn away in search of the other person you arrived with. zoe lies unconscious off to one side. at least you hope she's just unconscious. or maybe you didn't? what was a worse experience for her? you slowly make your way over to her. nobody stops you. nobody makes a move. you know you can't carry her so you just sit down beside her. a gentle hand on her side. you don't want her to be alone when she finds out her mother is dead.

[vanillahealer]

dear followers, this is NOT an agere post

it's a CRK post, so... if you dont want that, dont worry about it! /gen

beast yeast ep 9 spoilers!! also it has angst also this is a VERY LONG post. specifically, below the cut is 3,834 words and 21,377 characters.

cw/tw: cognitive and emotional dissonance, emotional abuse (from a leader and/or mother figure), brainwashing?, cult, the word "pill" and a large part of this revolves around a metaphorical/emotional illness/disease

So I have a lot of thoughts about this episode. Things that I haven't seen talked about yet so I wanted to bring it up for the more-into-crk-lore-than-I-am-people if they see this.

Most people have mentioned or are aware of the things going on with Pavlova Cookie, Sugarfly Cookie, and Eternal Sugar Cookie. I think most believe that Pavlova Cookie and Sugarfly Cookie are and have been being abused by Eternal Sugar Cookie in some way. Some may even think Eternal Sugar Cookie is a cult leader. I've heard that suggestion be tossed around. Some may view her as an abusive mother figure. And all of that, in this post, will be posited. This is the basis of this post.

First, I'd like to point out something that I noticed quite early on in this episode, after everyone got to the Garden. The Sugar Angels—the ones who help heal the other Cookies—didn't seem to ever hate their job. I'm in a line of thinking that Pavlova Cookie, Sugarfly Cookie, and the Sugar Angels are different types of Cookies. I have no idea if there's any evidence to this, but I just sort of get that vibe. Which could mean a bunch of things. We could be seeing a type of hierarchy. The Sugar Angels are the most common type of Cookie there. They could be the main population, for lack of a better term. Pavlova Cookie and Sugarfly Cookie seem to be more-directly-under Eternal Sugar Cookie's commands and orders. Which is... "weird," in a sense—At least, it seems weird. Raspberry Cookie's line of (paraphrased), "Wow, a Cookie from House Raspberry would never shirk off their duty to another Cookie!" comes to mind for Pavlova Cookie. If Pavlova Cookie is as close (in terms of order of command) to Eternal Sugar Cookie, why would he act childishly? Why does he not like his duty? Why isn't he more loyal, like Sugarfly Cookie?

I think it's complicated. I think he actually does like his job. His job is to give Happiness to all, and by proxy, lead everyone to the Garden. And with all that he talks about Love—and his fascination on Love—and it really seems genuine. He DOES want to help all Cookies. He does want to spread Love and Happiness to all. Who wouldn't? I mean, he's been told all his life that Love and Happiness is good. But something's interesting. "Pain and sorrow are not allowed in the Garden." This leads us to, again, multiple things... One, Pavlova Cookie likes pain and sorrow too. The first time we meet him, he talks about a love tragedy. And how that love tragedy is apparently deliciously interesting. It seems that a "normal" Cookie of the Garden (idk what else to call them,) would be crying and deeply hurt about a love tragedy. If Pavlova Cookie shared this news to everyone else, he would be the bringer of bad news. He would make everyone in that Garden sad. But then again, sadness is unacceptable. Pavlova Cookie, being (assumingly) one of—or the only—Cookie of the Garden who can go to the Outside World, is the only Cookie of the Garden who actually sees pain and sorrow. He resonates with it. He understands it—and he loves it because this is the only place where he is also understood. It's very unnatural—and rather impossible—for someone to be happy all the time. Even Eternal Sugar Cookie expresses more emotions than just happiness and bliss in her own Garden. But anything other than Happiness is bad. Any other emotion is bad. Is horrible. Is needed to be snuffed out like a candle's flame. In the Garden, you are not allowed to feel anything other than this one thing. But what causes Happiness? In the game, Eternal Sugar Cookie literally says that Happiness is going after what you want. And that doesn't sound bad at all.

...Except it is. And it is to her, as well. Why else would she get upset at Pavlova Cookie? When he wants Hollyberry and everyone else to stay, he is doing what he wants. In fact, he's doing his job. He fully believes that this is apart of his duty as a member of the Cookies of the Garden. He believes this is what Eternal Sugar Cookie wants of him. And he's right. He is to bring Happiness to all Cookies, which means they are to stay in Eternal Sugar Cookie's Garden. This is what she wants. However, despite doing exactly that, Pavlova Cookie gets scolded by Eternal Sugar Cookie. He is told that this is now wrong. Yet another thing is wrong——exactly what Eternal Sugar Cookie wants is wrong. Now, there was no reason for Eternal Sugar Cookie to get upset at him like how she did. I feel like diffusing the situation would've been nice, unless she did and I just don't remember. Anyway, he objectively did nothing wrong as per her orders. But she fixated her eyes on him, filled with cold, piercing daggers. She told him that she would re-educate him. She does not understand him, and he does not understand her, in a sense. ...Or we can say it's one or the other, simultaneously. She does understand him, and he doesn't. This can be the case because she knows he wants to help, but he doesn't know her plan. Simple as that. Now let's say she doesn't understand him, but he understands her. He knows what she wants. Obviously, for he's acting all of this out and he's doing what he thinks is best. She thinks he is "going against her" by doing this. He is in the way of her plans. Both of these are true. ...They both know that she is leading the Cookies straight to danger. They both know that "pain and sorrow is bad for all Cookies." (Pavlova Cookie can still not know about the plan here. Any Cookie going out of the Garden is bad enough——he knows that himself. Just an added layer onto this.) But somehow, "pain and sorrow" is being allowed by Eternal Sugar Cookie. ...The outsider cookies are free to feel pain. They are free to express how hurt they are. They are free to tell her, "I'm not feeling okay." They are allowed to leave the Garden, get hurt, and come back and be treated with kindness and healings and benevolence. Pavlova Cookie, Sugarfly Cookie, the Sugar Angels, and other Cookies/Desserts of the Garden do NOT have this freedom. To add onto this, the outsider Cookies—Hollyberry, Wildberry, and Raspberry Cookie—judge him too. They judge Pavlova Cookie. Hollyberry Cookie tells Eternal Sugar Cookie that he seems to only prioritize what he wants. (I hear Pavlova Cookie argue, "This is Happiness. This is Eternal Sugar Cookie's blessing! And in doing this, I am helping other Cookies get Happiness too!!") Wildberry Cookie and Raspberry Cookie mock him, telling him he shouldn't pawn off his duties to another. ("Stop it! No one understands! My mother figure tells me I'm wrong when I'm doing exactly what she wants! You outsider Cookies don't understand me either! The only one who understands is Sugarfly Cookie!" I hear Pavlova Cookie vent out his frustrations.) Sugarfly Cookie seems like a sibling to him. They are happy to take the jobs for Pavlova Cookie. They understand how emotionally hurt he is, for his job is to go to the Outside World and view how much pain and sadness is in it, only to be constantly denied his own pain and sadness. He is in the world where this should not happen. He is meeting the Cookies that can help him. He sees where they live, he knows the creatures of the land. He knows pain and sadness exist here, freely, without constraint. If there is one place where he could be understood, it is here.

And he isn't. And even so, he has a job to do. He is to spread Happiness to others. The Happiness that he doesn't fully know. The Happiness that confuses him. The one that he doesn't know if it's bad or good. He doesn't know why he feels sadness. Why he feels hurt. This is the place where pain and sadness does not exist. The Garden is where all Cookies are cared for. He should not feel this way. He, while feeling these emotions, is betraying Eternal Sugar Cookie herself. He can't admit it to others, let alone admit it to himself. But he still likes giving Happiness to outsider Cookies. Because who doesn't want to be happy? Happiness will be good. Forever. It is impossible for Happiness to be a bad thing. Happiness is good. Happiness is right. It is the way of the Garden, and it is the way of his mother figure. Its importance has been passed down and spread all across the Garden. He would be a fool to say Happiness is bad. Everyone would laugh. Maybe even Sugarfly Cookie. Sugarfly Cookie does not know the Outside World. It's debatable if they once knew it. But as of now, they do not. If they did, it's been far too long for it to mean anything to them anyway. Because they are Happy now. They are in the Garden of Delights, where nothing can hurt them. What Eternal Sugar Cookie does is not hurtful. It is not painful. Her actions cause no pain. Pavlova Cookie complains only because he visits the Outside World, where pain and sorrow reign and reside. He is affected by the outside influences. It is natural that he needs to come back to the Garden and rejuvenate himself.

("But he tells me he experiences Happiness there, too. He says pain and sorrow give him Happiness. He tells me that love tragedies are wonderful. That broken hearts cause his heart to fill," I hear Sugarfly Cookie try to reason with their confused thoughts. "He is sick. He needs help more than anyone. But he tells me—and I understand—why he cannot tell the Sugar Angels. Word will get to Mother. And Pavlova Cookie has tried so hard to keep all of this away from her for so long. However... I still don't know what it is that causes him this odd Happiness. I want to see it for myself. I want to understand him.") And they tell Pavlova Cookie they want to go with him one day. They trust him. They want to help him. They want to understand him. And so they go. They see it with their own eyes what grants Pavlova Cookie this odd Happiness. ...And this could go in so many different directions. The only thing we know for sure (at least this is assumed for this post,) is that Eternal Sugar Cookie found out. However... I think it to be like this. Sugarfly Cookie is terrified. Upon knowing the truth, Pavlova Cookie's situation is more dire than they expected. Crying creatures are granting him inner peace. Tears. Anger. Fits of frustration between lovers. Heartbreak. Violence. Emotions that are not allowed in the Garden is causing Pavlova Cookie "Happiness." This odd Happiness that he calls "Understanding." ("He tells me that he wants to do this. He wants to look like them. He wants to... cry. They are in pain. Their hearts are hurting. Pavlova Cookie... wants pain?" Sugarfly Cookie questions. "He is sick—He is very, very ill. I must tell Mother. I must tell her so she can heal him.") They tell Eternal Sugar Cookie about what transpired. Sugarfly Cookie is mortified of the Outside World. Eternal Sugar Cookie sees how hurt Sugarfly Cookie is—and promises to them that they will never again have to visit that place. They will be safe in the Garden. Forever. The new armor is wonderful. It's a bit heavy—Sugarfly Cookie can't exactly fly correctly, or fly at all. At most, they can hover, but that is alright. Being closer to the Garden is better. Having direct contact with the sweet clouds will surely help. No wonder it takes so long for Pavlova Cookie to heal. He can fly. But Mother did not give him new armor. In fact, she did not change anything about him at all, it seems. At best, she talked to him, and that was all. She told everyone she taught him a new lesson.

("But still, Pavlova Cookie is hurt. He still goes to the Outside World. But he has to. It is his job.... I feel bad for him. He is the only one who can go into the Outside World. He is the only one who can escort the outside Cookies to the Garden. He must witness the pain and sorrow from that world, and must go directly to Mother so she can help him. The Other World is cruel. But it must be this way. Pavlova Cookie is suffering. He mistook his Happiness. He wanted to cry not because he felt understood. He wants to cry because he is a Cookie of the Garden. And we are not to look upon or feel pain. And yet he does. He is the only one who does... While thinking about Pavlova Cookie, something happens to my heart. Something blooms within it. It is not Mother's Happiness. It feels like it droops lower than my wings with this new armor. This.... This is from the Outside World. This... is the disease that Pavlova Cookie is ill with. I contracted it, too, when I went to that sickly place. It... hurts. But in due time, because I am forever in the Garden, I will heal. Pavlova Cookie still has jobs to do. I will happily do anything he asks me to—I must help alleviate his pain. ...Oh, Mother has the same look upon her face when she taught him the new lesson. Pavlova Cookie will get too close to the Outside World—That is why he does not want to lead the outside Cookies back to their world. He does not want to get more sick. I understand. I will escort them for him while Mother reeducates him.")

...

"Pavlova Cookie? Come closer to me," says Eternal Sugar Cookie. "...Yes? You called for me?" responds Pavlova Cookie... ...with fear in his voice. He knows that he was wrong. Pain and sadness can be felt by Outsider Cookies. Of course they can. It originates from their world, of course. ("I hope 'Mother' will heal me this time. I hope it's not just telling me things I already know. That her plans are absolute, that her plans are very planned out. That she knows what she is doing. All I want is for 'Mother' to heal me like Sugarfly Cookie believes. But not like the sculptures... And don't restrict my flight.... And don't ban me from ever visiting the Outside World... No. No, that is impossible. I am useful. I am the only one who has this job. I am useful. I must be kept in this job. I must be doing well. Mother will pardon one mistake. She will keep me in this role. She will. She has to. It is..... healing me. It makes my heart full. Surely, she knows that. She understands me. ...

I keep thinking about Sugarfly Cookie and I's exchange before those outsider Cookies left. I asked if they remembered the pain that cannot be healed... They did, they do remember it. Because we both have it. We both have the disease that came from the Outside World. But... that's what Mother says. To me, I think it's not a disease at all. It helps... It... helps. And no one understands. No one but Sugarfly Cookie, and even they are on the fence about it...") There's a crazy amount of dissonance here. Of ambivalence. I hope you guys are getting what I'm putting down. It's sort of hard to explain to be honest. ...I want to talk about this.

[Image ID: A screenshot of Pavlova Cookie's dialogue from Cookie Run Kingdom. There are two sides of the image, left and right. Left side says the word "Victory." Right side says three quotes. In order, the first is: "Love always wins!" The second is: "Ahh, the power of love!" and the final one is "With love, Pavlova Cookie!" End image ID.]

I want to talk about that last one. "With love, Pavlova Cookie!" Who says their own name? Why would you do that? It's because he's quoting someone else. "With love, Pavlova Cookie!..." said Eternal Sugar Cookie, during one of the "reeducating sessions." It's like she's telling him, reinforcing into him that he is not doing any evil. He is not doing anything bad. Spreading Happiness can NOT be bad. Ever. Shooting arrows at others is not bad. Killing monsters is not bad. Winning, even if the "stubborn Cookies" resisted, is not bad. You won. You achieved victory. And you did it with love. I see a lot of posts talking about the statues/sculptures. I want to add to this.

[ Image ID: A screenshot of a decor from Cookie Run Kingdom. Name of decor: Tender Dream Raspberry Jam. Visual Description: A statue of a Sugar Angel ontop of a raspberry jam jar. Has a small amount of jam on its right wing and head. In-game Description: "May your slumbers be happy in the Garden of Delights! Eternal Sugar Cookie herself has crafted these intricate jars of jam to keep Cookie protected from pain and suffering for all eternity. It is said that this jam tastes like the warmest memory of your life. Those splatters of jam on the statue…? Don't you worry, sweetest!" End image ID.]

I want to focus on the end part. The splatters of jam. So... this is just pure confirmation that these transformations are painful. They bleed. They are in pain when these happen. Have another one.

[ Image ID: A screenshot of a decor from Cookie Run Kingdom. Name of Decor: Sweet Slumber Blueberry Jam. Visual Description: A statue of a Sugar Angel on-top of a jar of blueberry jam. A blue tear comes from its right eye. In-game Description: May your slumbers be happy in the Garden of Delights! Eternal Sugar Cookie herself has crafted these intricate jars of jam to keep Cookies protected from sorrow and suffering for all eternity. it is said that this jam tastes like the fondest memory of your life. Why does the statue look like it's crying…? Those are happy tears, sweetest!" End image ID. ]

The fact that there's two of them—different ones—with either jam or tears... insinuates that there's different types of "petrification"? One that gives physical pain and another that is emotional? That's just a theory though.

[ Image ID: A screenshot of a decor from Cookie Run Kingdom. Decor Name: Sugar Peacock. Visual Description: A purple peacock with seven tails. The peacock's eyes are closed, but eyes are on the ends of the tails. One eye per tail. In-game Description: These majestic birds with feathers of sleek, shiny candy walk gracefully around the Garden of Delights. With their eyes constantly closed, it may seem as though they are dreaming—but make no mistake: their real eyes are on the tips of their tail plumes. Day after day, these eyes witness happy faces. But… what happens if a face is not happy?" End image ID.]

"What happens if a face is not happy?" Another case of "any emotion except for Happiness is bad" in this place. And apparently, peacocks symbolize beauty, divinity, power, confidence... and "the beautiful things of life." Wow.

[ Image ID: A screenshot of a decor from Cookie Run Kingdom. Decor Name: Mashmallow Candy Pillars (Top). Visual Description: Two pink pillars hold up a small part of a pale white ceiling. The pink part looks soft. In-game Description: A soft marshmallow wraps around a sturdy candy pillar making it completely harmless in the event of a sudden collision. The sensation of its plushy embrace upon impact has some Cookies dreaming of turning this pill-ar into the pill-ow of their dreams… but will they ever succeed?" End image ID.]

Ohhh man. The "pill" part of those words are getting singled out. This inspired the whole "sickness/illness/disease" things above. Like, of course this society would have parallels to sicknesses. They literally heal others... but I didn't expect this in this description.

[ Image ID: A screenshot of a decor from Cookie Run Kingdom. Name of Decor: Winged Tree. Visual Description: A tree with purple angel wings as its leaves. In-game Description: "No one is ever busy in the Garden of Delights! Why soar in the sky when you can slumber in the shade of this tree? Legend has it that is how this tree gained its wings—the previous owner no longer needed them." End image ID.]

"The previous owner no longer needed them..." ...What does this mean. What does this mean??? Does Eternal Sugar Cookie just straight up... you know...? I mean, I guess it makes sense. You can hurt your people as much as you want because they are in the realm of healing and stuff. It won't matter how much pain you experience because you can just get all of that wiped away.

[ Image ID: A screenshot of a decor from Cookie Run Kingdom. Decor Name: Swimming Tooth Rock. Visual Description: A tooth that can…swim… Apparently these are creatures in this world. In-game Description: This Toothling has rotted from drinking too much grape juice flowing through the Garden of Delights. However, it still will not stop, despite the pain… Perhaps, it lives as a testament to the phrase, "All is good in moderation." End image ID.]

...So are we just going to say that everyone in the Garden is raised to be masochistic...? The phrase "All is good in moderation" and like there's no moderation? They genuinely think it's good for them? Is this what this means?

But, yeah, anyway. I think this is crazy. Not to mention the music. I find it absolutely fascinating that the boss battle theme is a remix of the like, main theme of the place, I think. I know that makes sense, but... something about the boss battle theme just seems so... conflicted. The good that you know suddenly becomes bad. Everything you've ever lived for twists itself into disparagement by Eternal Sugar Cookie in-front of your eyes. It feels like the truth is coming out, yet you have a vague idea of said truth... It feels like you don't know which one to believe in.

But anyway. Sorry for this whole very extremely long post. Maybe I'll come back to this again and/or start posting my other ideas about stuff. I didn't even talk about Hollyberry or Eternal Sugar's relationship. My thoughts on it are probably.... different than others. I'll just say I like Eternal Sugar more than Hollyberry. ...Which..... is interesting, given that I don't exactly *like* like Eternal Sugar. Anyone else think Pavlova Cookie and Sugarfly Cookie see each other as siblings btw? Anyway. I'll stop rambling. This has gotten long enough. EDIT: Here's a continuation of this analysis [link]. I reblogged this post with it, and there's also another link to another reblog that I did to an analysis done by a different user. Happy crk angst analyses, guys.

[lunshimmer]

dear joel

summary: ellie writes joel a letter on the one year anniversary of his passing

❀ fandom: the last of us

warnings: major character death

❀ a/n: hi!! i cried multiple times writing this and then cried again upon remembering that we won't get any more tlou until 2027 :( i also formatted this one a lil weird bc the letter is right aligned on my ao3.

❀ word count: 1,419

❀ divider by @firefly-graphics ❀

Meaningless guitar strums fill the air as Ellie fiddles with the strings. It's what Joel used to do-- sit for hours and play different strings with different chords and try to make something of it. She figured it calmed him down, grounded him in a world so unpredictable. Ellie finds that it does the same for her.

Her hands follow a familiar rhythm, finding known chords, though she can't quite place it yet.

She presses e, then f, then e again. E again, then d, then c, then g.

Ellie remembers.

A pang of sadness, maybe regret hits her square in the chest. She sighs, then plays the full melody.

"If I ever were to lose you, I'd surely lose myself."

Ellie chooses to stop after a single verse. It's too much. She stares at her pencil and notebook on her desk.

Gail told her about this thing, back in Jackson when Dina had JJ. She had written letters to Eugene after he passed to help herself cope with his passing. Ellie thought it was bullshit right off the bat. She was never one for public sentiment-- sure, she'd had thoughts about Joel come up in her mind often. She never would've expressed it on paper.

As she looks at the paper again, she reconsiders. Maybe it'll help. Maybe she should try.

Ellie carefully sets the guitar back in its case and picks up the pencil.

Dear Joel,

I'm not sure why I'm doing this. It's fucking stupid.

Gail said it might help. With the feelings and grieving and all that dumb shit. I don't think I trust her on this. Therapists are a scam.

Ellie stops for a second. She takes a deep breath. If this was going to help, she needed to believe in it and take it seriously. She continues again.

It's been hard for me this month. It's the anniversary. One year since it happened.

A lot of shit went down, and I found Abby. I didn't kill her.

She sees the picture in her mind; Jesse with a bullet in his head lying on the floor, and Dina pregnant and beat within an inch of her life. Ellie didn't want to focus on the negatives. She redirects, and thinks about Dina.

Dina had a baby. I hope Jesse knows, wherever he is, that he has a son. I think he does.

Ellie hopes Joel is still out there somewhere too.

I don't know where you are right now. Well, I know where you physically are. I don't know if you're still out there somewhere. Spiritually.

I don't know where I stand on the whole religion bullshit. I know you grew up Catholic. Tommy told me. When I asked him if he still believed in it he said that he didn't know. I hope it's real. I really want it to be real. I want to believe that you're not dead. Not entirely.

I went to church with Maria. She said it helps her to believe that her husband and kid are in a better place now after they're dead. When I asked her "how the fuck does that make sense?" she rolled her eyes and made a noise with her mouth and said "it just does.". I'm choosing to believe it too.

Ellie decides that Joel is still out there. Alive, not physically but spiritually. A ghost, maybe? Weren't ghosts supposed to be scary? She thinks Joel would suck at being a scary ghost. Haunting halls and possessing people and all the ghosty bullshit wasn't quite his style. She hopes he isn't stuck haunting a house or something. She twiddles the pencil in her shaking hands and presses it to the paper once more.

I hope you're with Sarah. I hope you told her about me. I wish I knew her.

I hope you're with Tess. I didn't know her as long as you did but I miss her.

I hope Jesse's there too. I miss him. I know Dina does too.

I hope you met Riley. She's the best. She was the best.

She thinks about Sarah, the faceless curly-headed free-spirited girl she never got to meet. She thinks about Tess when she pulls her hair half up to get it out of her face. She thinks about Jesse every time JJ smiles.

Ellie doesn't think about Riley all that much anymore. Memories of Riley creep in occasionally whenever she sees a firefly (the bug) or when she re-reads Savage Starlight.

I hope you got your sheep ranch on the moon and all the guitars and coffee you could ever dream of. I wish I was there.

Ellie smiles thinking about the shitty coffee that Joel loved so much. She backtracks on that last thought, clarifying:

Not that I wish I was dead or anything. I wish I was with you. You always said that wherever you went, I did too. I wish it was the same for this.

It was always Joel and Ellie. Not just Ellie. Not just Joel. They were a pair. A package deal. She misses that feeling.

Ellie thinks about the last conversation she had with Joel, the night of the dance.

I regret the way I left things with you. I was upset and I shouldn't have handled things the way I did. I shouldn't have blown up at you for defending me when Seth said that bullshit the night of the dance. I'm filled with all this regret and sadness and grief. I don't sleep a lot most nights. Every time I close my eyes I see your face.

She finds it hard to imagine Joel any other way than lifeless on the floor, eyes still open, unfocused. Staring at nothing. When she draws him, she doesn't find the will to draw his eyes. She can't.

She's pulled out of her thoughts by Dina's voice. She's singing softly, and Ellie can only imagine it's to JJ. Joel would've loved JJ.

She sighs, again pulling herself away from what happened between her and Joel. Ellie tells herself that she needs to stop dwelling on it, because it's in the past. Unless she were to find a way to time travel (which would be sick, by the way), she can't do anything about it.

She tells herself she needs to grow from this. Move on-- not completely, but a little bit. She has things in her life that mean the world to her.

Ellie loves Dina. She loves JJ. She loves expressing herself through art and telling bad jokes that Dina hates (or secretly loves, but won't admit), and she loves each and every stinky sheep they've got in the barn.

No more sad shit. I need to write about something else. Here's a drawing of JJ. He's easy to draw.

She doodles the baby's round, chubby cheeks and cherub nose. She draws his tiny lips and eyes and eyebrows and tops it off by giving him some hair on his head. She's a little generous on the amount of hair she draws JJ with. Doing you a favor, kid, she thinks.

I started painting. Dina likes it. She hung some of my stuff up on the walls in our house. Makes it feel like an art gallery.

She taps her pencil against the wood of the desk, searching her mind for topics and then remembers--

We have sheep! Lots of 'em. Some of their names are very punny. You'd like them. Ewe-gene is my favorite. Don't tell Daisy or Snowy.

She takes a second and quietly laughs about the names to herself. She's pulled out of her thoughts again when she hears Dina's voice call El, time for dinner!, and she replies with just a sec, babe!, and she realizes something--

Ellie realizes that she's fortunate. Yeah, shitty things have happened. They have. Who in this fucked up world that they live in hasn't had something bad happen to them? You could probably count them on one hand. Lucky bastards.

She wasn't sure if she believed in God or not, but if she did, Ellie would consider herself blessed.

Dina's calling me down for dinner, so I'm gonna wrap this up. I think this helped me.

Long story short: I hope you're happy. I hope you have everything your heart desires, wherever you are. I hope you check in on me sometimes. I know you do.

I miss you. I'll miss you 'till the cows come home.

Joel loved that phrase.

I love you too.

Love, Ellie

[vampireids]

harder to hide

spencer reid x elle greenaway summary: after dying in georgia, spencer revisits elle (angst, smut) warnings: oral sex (f receiving), penetrative sex, addiction, minor dubious consent as a result of addiction, suicidal ideation, generally sad spencer, this was supposed to be a porn without plot and then it spawned SO much plot word count: 8k written for @imagining-in-the-margins friends with benefits challenge (reupload)

He smells her before he sees her. Maybe it’s his imagination, conjuring some sense memory to prepare his mind for the shock he knows it’ll be to his system to see her again, but he could swear it’s true. The perfume she always wore, a vaguely masculine smell, like leather and vanilla. The air is thick with it, no scent noticeable but hers. 

And, sure enough, when he scans the bar, she’s there. Like she promised she’d be. Like he hadn’t believed she’d be. She doesn’t seem happy to see him, but he hadn’t expected she would. Still, his heart skips a beat at the sight of her. 

Maybe it’s the Dilaudid, creeping its way through his system, leaving him dizzy and euphoric. Maybe he just missed her.

He reaches where she’s crammed into the corner of a booth, two glasses of neat whiskey in front of her. She’s obviously been sipping hers, a little stain of her lipstick on the glass and the liquid inside half depleted.

“Elle.”

“Reid.” She’s frowning, but then her eyes soften, just a little. Just enough. “You look like shit.”

Something about it, her, makes him smile in a way he hasn’t since Georgia. Everyone has been walking on eggshells around him, scared to tell him the truth. But that’s not her. She doesn’t know about Hankel, and if she did, she wouldn’t treat him like a victim. She’s strong enough to believe everyone else can be too. So he takes a sip of his own drink once he sits down and murmurs, “Thanks.”

If she thinks there’s something strange about that, she doesn’t say it. Just stares at him hard and asks, “Why are we here?”

He doesn’t have a good answer, but he slides into the booth next to her anyway. “How have you been?” he says instead of answering her question. 

She doesn’t miss the evasion, he can tell, but she grants him the dignity of ignoring it. “I’ve been good. Better. That job… it would have killed me eventually. And it’ll kill you.”

“It already has,” Spencer mutters before thinking. She raises her manicured eyebrows at him, expectant, so he adds, “It’s- sorry, that wasn’t- I’m fine.”

She doesn’t say anything to him for a while, just watches him like she’ll be able to read his story in his face. If anyone was able to, it would be her. 

“What happened to you? I mean, you really look terrible.”

“Yeah, you look great too, Elle,” he snarks, before swallowing hard. It takes a moment to force the question he wants to ask past his lips. “Things have been- I just- how did you… cope with it? Dying, I mean.”

It’s not the most artfully posited question, but she seems to understand. 

“I didn’t. I quit the job.”

“But you moved on. You- you watched TV and visited your friends. I feel like I’m… stuck.” It’s more than he’s said about his feelings to anyone, his mother, his team, his Bureau mandated psychologist. But he knows she’ll understand. 

She looks at him hard. “What happened, Reid?”

“We had a serial murder case in Georgia where the unsub was calling the police from the home before committing the crime. Initially, because of the different voices on the phone, we assumed it was a group, but it wasn’t. It was one man with multiple personalities-” He stops and inhales deeply. He’d hoped reciting this like they were bland details of an everyday case would make it easier to say, but it doesn’t. He powers through the rest of the story quickly, in short, clipped sentences like that’ll hide the sharpness in his chest. “He abducted me. I spent three days there. One of the personalities killed me. Another revived me. And then I killed him.”

“I’m-”

“Don’t,” Spencer snaps, and sighs. “Don’t say you’re sorry. Everyone keeps saying they’re sorry.”

“You’re right. I’m not sorry. But you didn’t deserve that.”

Spencer laughs harshly. “I don’t think anyone deserves it.”

“No,” she agrees. “But especially not you.”

He doesn’t know what he came here wanting, but it’s not this. The same face of pity everyone else gives him transplanted onto her features. “I don’t want sympathy,” he says, and it’s colder than she deserves.

She raises her eyebrows. “Then what do you want? Why did you call me here? It wasn’t to give me your tragic backstory.”

He almost laughs, a pure, delighted laugh, at the Elle of it all. Never one to take shit from anyone, least of all him. Not even seconds after being told he died. It’s the exact attitude that brought him to her bed in the first place. “I wanted to apologise.”

“For what?”

“That night, in the hotel room. I didn’t understand. I do now, and I’m sorry.” Selfishly, he wishes he still didn’t understand. He could go his whole life without knowing what it was like to see the face of his killer every night in sleep, every time his eyes closed. Never learning that when you return from the dead, there’s a piece of you that stays there, calling sweetly, begging for your return. 

But he does know. And she knows. And he thinks, maybe if he’d known that night, she’d still be on the team. 

“You couldn’t have changed anything,” Elle says quietly, still a profiler without the name. “Once I died, my time with the BAU was over. I couldn’t trust anymore.”

He can relate, more than he wants to. He thinks of the hospital, Gideon apologising in a low tone for making Garcia stymie the spread of the video. Like silencing the man was more important than keeping Spencer alive. He thinks of days of hope, believing the team would find him before things got any worse, and that belief dying at the same time he did. He thinks of firing the killing shot, and the guilt he’ll have to live with forever, a guilt he could have avoided if the team had found him. 

It’s a pitiful bitterness, because he’s not her. He won’t do anything with the feeling. Nothing but lie awake at night, in the moments before the Dilaudid muffles his mind, and wonder if things could have been different. If his blind faith was misplaced, if he damned himself by trusting without caveat. He won’t leave, he won’t kill, he won’t cuss. He’ll just watch them when they aren’t watching him, and wonder if someone else would have saved him. If she might have. 

She sees something in his face, because she grabs his shoulder and opens her mouth to say something. He knows what it’ll be: she thinks he should quit. He speaks before she gets the chance. 

“Do you remember our first time?” he says softly. 

She snaps her mouth closed and looks at him hard. “Of course.”

He’d been sulking after Hotch beat the snot out of him under the watchful eye of Philip Dowd. Stuck in cyclical thought, wondering if Hotch was right and he was a kid who couldn’t shoot, if he was cumbersome and difficult. So she’d knocked on his door, told him he was being pathetic, and kissed him against the door. And that was Elle: rarely nice, always kind. 

“You’re the only one who’s never pitied me,” he whispers. “Even that night, when I was pitiful. You never thought of me as a kid.”

“Because you aren’t one,” she says, and her tone is harsh but her eyes are gentle.  

Something about the moment seems loaded in the way their conversations always do. Layered, laced with double meaning and possibility. It’s the body language, her body angled towards him, their knees brushing each other, her palm resting on the couch in the scant space between them. It’s her voice, dry and cold, but softening on the last syllable like she can’t bring herself to twist the knife. It’s the crushing weight of a shared history, nights spent sweating in hotels and kissing in shadowy corners of bars on nights out with the team. 

He’s not a kid, but he didn’t believe that until he had her.

“I miss you,” It’s a bitter confession.

She sighs. “I know.”

She doesn’t say she misses him, but he dares to hope the hand that comes up to trace his arm means she might. 

He doesn’t know if it’s her touch or the drugs that makes him cruel, but he murmurs, “I know why you had to leave the team, but why me?”

Her breath catches and his heart stammers with it. She takes a long time to formulate an answer, and he can almost see her brain working. “It hurt to see you.”

An unjustified flare of anger curls through him, a leakage of the vat of rage that seems to have simmered inside him since Georgia. It’s red and hot and mean, and he’s powerless to stem it once it boils. Before he can measure himself, he hisses, “Do you think it didn’t hurt to lose you?”

“If I kept seeing you, I never could have left,” she snaps, never one to give him the last word. “I would have stayed on the team until it killed me a second time, and I would have died with even more regrets.”

“I don’t want you to rejoin the team. I just want to see you. I want you in my life, is that too much to ask for?”

She seems fragile somehow, fragile like he’s never seen her be before, fragile like she’s not and he is. Like he could break her if he wanted to. As if the wrong words from him could grind her down into nothing.

She’s guilty, he realises with a terrible, selfish relief. Even more regrets.

“I shouldn’t have come tonight,” she says, voice barely audible over the din of the bar. “This was a mistake.”  

Spencer’s stomach drops with a violent lurch. “So that’s it, then? You run away?” he snaps, instead of asking her to say, instead of confessing he hasn’t slept a night through since Georgia and his thumb is always millimetres away from calling her once the clock strikes midnight. He wants her back, and it’s selfish and it’s cruel and he needs to let her go but he won’t. He can’t. 

“If that’s what you want to call it.” Her voice is frosty, no softness in her face or form. Only  a cold, bitter anger. He’s failed, again, to understand her. To give her what she needs. To stop her leaving. 

“I don’t-” he sighs. “There are- there are links between losing a friend and poor physical health. When you feel abandoned or lonely, there are certain changes in your immune cells, making them more prone to inflammation and less responsive to the body's natural anti-inflammatory signals. Lonely people tend to have stronger inflammatory responses to stress - a vaccine that triggers an immune response was found to increase inflammation more in people who felt lonely or were recently- recently abandoned.” 

“Reid-” she starts, but he’s started now and he’s not stopping. 

“I miss you, Elle,” he says, and he can’t stop the desperate tone from creeping into his voice. “I miss you so much. I want my friend back. I don’t care if we never sleep together again, I don’t want you to come back to the team, I just want- I want my friend back. Can’t you please at least just- call me? Once in a while?”

It’s selfish, it’s so selfish, he’s pulling her back to a life she lost everything to escape. But Dilaudid makes him honest and loneliness makes him cruel and she’s in front of him and this can’t be the last time he ever sees her. The only honest person he knows. 

Her eyes are shining and her mouth is a tight line. She’s fracturing. It’s his fault. He’s a monster, but he won’t back down. They’re both silent for a long time, no one willing to say something that will break this, break them. The sounds of the bar seem far away, like something on a television, voices from another world. The only thing that’s real is her. 

Finally, she breaks the silence with a ragged intake of breath. “I’ve missed you too,” she whispers. It’s everything he’s wanted to hear and the final twist of the knife. It takes a moment for him to talk, so fixated on the sound of it, on the way her lips had looked as she said the words.

He does what he shouldn’t.

He kisses her, cruel and reckless.

They haven’t kissed since before she killed and he died, but they fall back into it like breathing. The ambient sounds of the bar fade away to white noise in his ears as she grabs his collar tightly and forces him closer, not a second of hesitation in it. He gasps into her mouth at the tiny exertion of control from her, so familiar, like they’re the same people they were before she shot an unarmed man in the chest and he started injecting quiet into his veins. 

The kiss isn’t kind, and it isn’t loving. It never was with them. Everything they were was a kind of fatal attraction, two exquisitely lonely people fumbling in the dark to ward off the ghosts. They aren’t going to start being gentle with each other now, not when he’s cruel in his addiction and he can tell Elle hates him for making her come back. 

She bites down hard on his lip, a flaring point of pain in the haze he’s slipping into, and he has to hold back the keening sound it almost elicits. It’s enough to make him pull back and beg, “Please, Elle. Come back to my apartment.”

She stills, and for a moment he thinks she might slap him. But instead, she lifts her glass and finishes the rest of her whiskey, her throat bobbing as she downs it. She nods, a movement minute, and says, “Okay.”

His face must betray his relief. He picks up his own glass and downs the contents, the liquor burning a line of fire down his throat. “Let’s go.”

Part of him knows if they do this, he’s never going to see her again. But they never got to say goodbye, not really, not properly. She was there one day, gone the next, too brimming with fury and indignation for tearful farewells. She’d fucked him in a hotel room, killed a man the next day, and then quit and changed her number. He’d had to twist Garcia’s arm to track down her new number, and he’s certain it would never have been given to him if Garcia didn’t view him as unstable. 

So he leads her out of the bar, a hand grasped loosely around her wrist, and tries not to think about the inevitable consequences. She’s never been one to allow herself to be led, but she follows without argument or complaint. As soon as they’re on the sidewalk, he flags down a cab and opens the door for her, a tiny act of chivalry that does nothing to offset how much he knows he’s hurting her. 

He recites his address to the cabbie breathlessly, and as soon as they start driving, he kisses her again. It’s bolder, more uncouth, than he would ever usually let himself be. But it’s been almost two months of missing her, wanting her, and he’s not going to wait around now she’s beside him and willing. 

Her mouth on his is angry, and the kiss is more teeth and tongue than anything sweet or loving. It says what they refuse to: what they are is damaging and broken and toxic, and they will do it anyway. He’s barely conscious of the taxi driver in the front seat, hopes vainly he experiences things like this often enough that he’s not going to think they’re disgusting, knows he must anyway. When you strip away everything else, they’re two horny young people, lost kids in their mid 20s who can’t keep their hands off each other. Not killers. Not the undead. He wishes hopelessly that they could be that innocent.

Her hands move from the back of his neck and twist into his hair; his palm roves down her back and settles on her waist. The angle is awkward, both of them buckled into their seats and trying to stay close. He groans as she yanks hard on the strands, she pants into his mouth in response. It’s messy and dirty. His blood is racing so hard he’s dizzy. 

It takes him a moment to realise the car has stopped, another to remember what he’s supposed to do. He grabs his wallet and stuffs a wad of cash into the driver’s hand, pants out a breathless, “thank you,” and guides her out of the car behind him. 

They keep their hands off each other the whole way up the stairs. He has a horrifying vision of trying to kiss her while they walk and the both of them ending up tumbling down. But as soon as they push open his front door, his shaking hands requiring two attempts to unlock the thing, his mouth is on her. She kicks the door shut behind her as he pulls her in and once it’s shut, he backs her up against it.

She’s letting him have this modicum of control, they both know it. She’s always been able to give him any command and trust in entirety he would follow it. But the control while it’s his is overwhelming. She’s kind enough to grant him a few desperate, opened mouth kisses against the wall before she pushes him back gently and her hands begin working at his tie. 

He hadn’t asked to see her tonight wanting this. But as his tie is ripped unceremoniously away from his collar and her hands move to the buttons of his shirt, he stops knowing for sure if that’s true. They were never very good at heartfelt conversations, but this was natural. He’d known, deep down, they wouldn’t be able to stay in the sentimental for long. They’d tried before - after near death on a train in Texas or the night before she’d shot William Lee. But they always got sidetracked. Always left with should-have-saids. 

She jerks his arm to yank his shirt off of him and he returns the favour by helping her take off her own. She’s left in a black, lacy bra. The kind she would wear if she was expecting, maybe, for someone to see it. The thought makes his mouth dry. She’d come here wanting this too. 

As soon as they’re both stripped of their shirts, he reclaims her mouth desperately. He’s making up for lost time, making up for the radio silence they’ll return to after tonight. She makes a soft sound against him and he thinks a strong wind could knock him to his knees. Most of the time, he’s a creature of logic and reason. When he’s with her, he’s something else entirely. 

He’s almost too off-kilter to realise she’s pulling him, leading him in the direction of his bedroom. He stumbles after her like a lost puppy, devoted and trusting. As soon as they’re in the room, they’re back on each other again with wandering, hungry hands. They kiss each other like it’s the last time they ever will. It might be. He tries not to think about that as her hands drop to the button of his pants. He undoes hers in turn and they both kick the garments aside, clad in nothing but their undergarments. He takes a moment to drink in the sight of her - the dark hair ghosting her collarbones, the swell of her chest under her bra, her runner’s physique. And her face, her sharp cheekbones, the slight tiredness of her eyes, the hard line of her mouth. 

He can’t help but murmur, “You’re so beautiful.”

She seems spun, briefly unable to answer. After a silence that drags a moment too long, she pulls him back in for a fierce kiss. It’s not an answer, but in a way it is. Or perhaps that’s wishful thinking. 

They move back towards the bed as one ungraceful mass, their hands exploring voraciously, their mouths connected. The back of his legs hits the bed and he stumbles, landing on the bed with her in his lap. He’s stunned he gets to have this, have her, stunned he gets to see her like this. One of the most beautiful people he’s ever met, and she’s looking at him like she wants to devour him whole. 

He slides his hands up her back until he reaches the clasp of her bra, undoing it in a few fumbling attempts. Usually he’s more dextrous, but he’s high and he’s needy and his brain isn’t working as well as he wants it to. He has another fleeting anxiety - the Dilaudid sometimes clouds his memory. If this is going to be his last time with Elle, he won’t remember it as well as he wants to. 

There’s no time to dwell on that as he takes the bra off of her and she groans as the fabric trails across her chest. The noise goes straight to his cock and he bites back his own satisfied grunt, throwing the bra onto the floor and running his fingertips up her sides. She kisses his jaw, and then his neck, and he can’t hold back the groan it elicits as she bites down on the sensitive skin. 

“Fuck, Elle,” he pants, and he feels more than hears her little laugh against his throat. 

“Still sensitive,” she whispers as she pulls away, and he answers her with another fevered kiss, sucking gently on her tongue and revelling in the vibration of her ragged sigh. 

“Please, let me taste you. Missed it. Please, Elle.” He’s too turned on to be embarrassed by the pleading edge to his voice. She likes him like that, anyway, likes the power of having him wrapped around her finger and he’s all too happy to give it to her. 

Her breath hitches at the begging, and she meets his eyes with a nod. There’s a turbulence behind her eyes, but she doesn’t say anything, and he doesn’t ask. She crawls off his lap and moves to the middle of the bed, lying down and watching him from the pillow. 

He almost can’t breathe at the sight of her splayed out across his bed, and it’s autopilot that moves him in between her legs. He surveys her, the slightly heaving chest, the irises clouded with desire. She’s here and she’s his, she’s all his for tonight. He tries to believe tonight will be enough to satisfy him. 

She doesn’t blush or squirm at all under his gaze, just meets his eyes with a challenge in her own. He rises to it, guiding her panties down her legs slowly. They match her bra, black and lace, and his head spins with the idea she might have picked them out deliberately to see him. For him to see her wearing them. 

Once she’s bared, he leans down and blows gently on her clit. She shivers, a full body shiver, and makes a tiny little sound that makes blood rush in his ears. His need for her is something physical, tangible, it twists in his stomach and captures his extremities. 

He can’t help himself anymore, he flattens his tongue and guides it along her already slick arousal. He’d missed this, the taste of her, the feel of her under his tongue, the way her breath hitches as he finally gives her what she wants. He moves his head up slightly and sucks gently on her clit the way she likes, teasing it with his tongue. 

“Reid,” she gasps. He doesn’t know why the use of his last name bothers him so much suddenly. It’s what she’s always called him, they all call each other by last name, it’s the culture of the job. But it seems wrong here, now, when they’re so close to vulnerable. And besides - she’s been Elle to him from the start. 

“Don’t call me that,” he begs, and his voice comes out pathetic against the warmth of her. “Please. Not- not tonight.”

She’s silent for a moment before breathing, “Yes. Okay. Spencer.”

He makes a ragged noise against her sensitive flesh and it seems to travel through her in a shiver. It’s like he’s freezing to death and burning alive all at once, his body feverish and his mind hazy. He wonders if it’s the Dilaudid that’s making her seem like a dream, and redoubles his efforts to drown out the thoughts. 

She arches against his mouth in a way that sends all the blood in his body travelling south, and he can’t help the bitten off moan that escapes him. 

She pants, “Spencer, oh God,” and the sound of her saying his name like that, in that tone, laced with pleasure and desire and unadulterated heat almost makes him come untouched against the bedsheets. Her gasp is followed by a series of pitched moans, and he sucks harder around her clit to summon more of those sounds. 

He’s greedy, wants to touch as well as taste, hedonistic in his lust, and he brings his fingers up to just below where his tongue is exploring her. He slides one finger in, crooking it gently and she cries out, her hips jerking upwards in search of more. She’s warm and tight around him and he slides in a second, fingering her with the same methodical care as he might apply to a particularly riveting scientific experiment. He could spend his whole life learning exactly what makes her feel good, testing variables until he discovered the perfect formula to evoke those desperate sounds from her lips. 

Her thighs tighten almost imperceptibly either side of his head, and he knows she’s close. She curses as he swirls his tongue over the heated flesh and the curse turns to a wordless cry as he uses his fingers to push her closer to the edge. He wants to hear her come, wants to drink in the sounds she makes in the throes of pleasure, wants to be the reason her body shakes. Distantly, he thinks he could be content with just being hers and nothing else for the rest of his life, a prop to be used to bring her pleasure. It’s the kind of thought one only thinks in the midst of sex, but for the moment, he truly believes it. 

“Spencer, fuck, I’m-” she doesn’t get to finish her sentence before she’s arching up against him and clenching around his fingers. He’s dizzy with the sights and sounds of it, drunk on how beautiful she is when she lets go. He’s also so hard it’s almost painful, rutting against the coarse fabric of the bedsheets in a search for friction that would be embarrassing if he wasn’t close to mad with lust. He removes his fingers, but keeps his tongue moving against her gently as she jerks through the aftershocks until she pushes him off gently. 

He shifts until he’s on his knees between her legs, drinking in her flushed cheeks and liquid eyes and heaving chest. She’s so beautiful, she always is, but the way she looks after an orgasm makes his heart squeeze painfully.

He opens his mouth to say something, he doesn’t know what, but she sits up and yanks him into a heated kiss before he has the chance. Their new position makes his cock drag against the skin of her stomach and he gasps into the kiss as electricity sparks across his skin. She laughs at the strangled sound it rips from him and presses even closer, and his head spins at her skin against his. 

“Elle, please,” he groans. He doesn’t even know what he’s begging for, only that he’s desperate and weak against the crushing weight of his desire. He’s pathetic, undone, reduced to the most base and primal of his instincts, but he’s too far gone to care. He wants her, however she’ll let him have her. 

As tough as she is, no one could ever say Elle isn’t kind. She pushes gently on his shoulders, and he’ll go anywhere she wants him, so he falls back. It leaves her astride on his hips, straddling him with his legs nestled between hers. It’s an angle of her he doesn’t think he deserves and he’s overcome, briefly, by how beautiful she is. He’s the acolyte of a merciful God, blessed to be granted the privilege of worshipping her. It seems right for him to be below her looking up. 

He’s not selfish enough to call this love, but it feels damned close. 

“I really did miss you,” she says, and it’s quiet enough he almost convinces himself he’s imagining it. But he isn’t, she’s real and this is real and it’s like a punch straight to the solar plexus for all it winds him. He’s powerless to do anything except pull her down to kiss her again, vicious and needy and desperate. 

They’re playing with fire and he can already feel his skin blistering from the heat of it. For all they’ve claimed their relationship to be casual and meaningless, no matter how hard they’ve pretended it’s just company on cases and comfort when the job gets hard, somewhere along the way they crossed a line.  

She gasps against his lips and he thinks he wouldn’t care if he burned for this. 

He can’t take the waiting anymore, without his lips ever leaving hers he pants, “Elle, please, can-”

“Yes. Yes, fuck, yes,” she cuts him off, and raises herself up on her knees, and both of their hands go between them to guide him to where she’s ready and waiting for him. It’s clumsy, and he means to double check she’s still taking her birth control, but his mind seems to have suddenly slowed exponentially, and he can’t find the words to ask before he’s in. The sound he makes verges closer to animalistic than anything delicate or sensual. 

She doesn’t seem to fare any better, a sharp cry escaping her lips as gravity does its job and she sinks down until he’s buried inside her. He’s liquid, formless, the whole universe eclipsed except for the point where they connect. She’s tight around him, a warm vice that makes his eyes cross and his breath stutter. He wants to tell her how good this is, how it’s like he’s finally come home after months lost at sea, how he doesn’t think any other person could ever look as beautiful as she does right now, but all he can muster is a pathetic unh sound. 

There’s a moment of adjustment where neither of them move, scared to shatter whatever fragile bliss has overtaken them. After what could be seconds or hours, she groans out a, “Fuck, Spencer,” and begins to move. Something snaps in his brain, some feral instinct that makes his hands snap toward her waist and his hips buck up to meet hers. Their rhythm starts clumsy and unbalanced, both of them far past the point of grace and finesse. 

It’s like riding a bike, they fall back on instinct and procedural memory, and everything slips right into place. His eyes roll back as their pace levels out and they start to move in tandem, every upward thrust bringing with it a new, dizzying wave of pleasure. He’s not going to last very long, but he looks up at her face and hears the pitched gasps ripping from her throat and feels and the way she pulses around him and knows she won’t be far behind him. He wants to freeze the moment, stay forever in this time and place where everything is beautiful and pleasurable. But they’re only human and they’re constrained by the limits of their neuromuscular systems and he knows this is going to be something quick and dirty. 

“Elle,” he gasps, and he thinks he wants to finish that thought and tell her something, but all conscious thought is torn from his brain as she moans raggedly on top of him. All he’s capable of doing is letting his head fall back and responding with a groan of his own. 

“Forgot how good you feel,” she says, and her voice is thin, vacant, lost in their shared bliss. He feels the same. No matter how precise his memory may be, nothing compares to the reality of it. The way they slot together like puzzle pieces carved to click. 

He moans his agreement as she tightens around him and his vision goes momentarily white. “Perfect,” he gasps, and it’s only one word of the phrase he was meaning to say, but it seems to sum it up effectively. “Always feel perfect. Made for this.” 

His speech is neanderthalian, but he’s proud he managed to produce any words at all with how fogged his mind is. And she nods desperately above him as she bears down on him again, the slide dirty and erotic, so she doesn’t seem to mind his lacklustre sentence structure. 

“Not going to-” she starts, but the words evaporate into a long keen as his hips meet hers again roughly. 

“Me neither,” he says, and hopes they’re talking about the same thing.  

She stiffens suddenly, the muscles in her abdomen flexing and tightening as her spine arches and her head falls back. “Oh, God,” she pants and the grip she has around him is too much to handle. “Fuck, Spencer, fuck, oh.”

She’s coming, and it looks like an exorcism for how much it seems to overtake her body. It makes constrict around him, and his self-control is bad at the best of times, and how can he deny himself this now? He follows her right over the edge, his vision fading at the edges until she’s a vignette above him. He’s a man possessed, and the pleasure comes tumbling down on him in crashing waves that threaten to carry him away. He tries to open his mouth, to thank her, to scream, to tell her he loves her, but all that comes out is a low, ragged, desperate cry. It’s so much, he’s convinced he didn’t exist before this very minute and as soon as it passes, he will wink from reality again. Nothing is real but this. Nothing is real but her. 

She slides off of him and collapses at his side, and he whines mournfully at the loss. But her skin is warm against his, and she moves to be nestled at his side, resting between his torso and arm, and the intimacy of it sends him reeling.

They lie in silence for a while, pressed against each other, and it’s like he’s more naked than he’s ever been in his life. Her fingers trace over his skin and a shiver runs through him with the gentle touch. They run over the back of his hand, skim his wrist, little electrical shocks following everywhere her touch does. 

The fingertips move up more, running over his forearm in soothing, nonsensical patterns. Something in the core of him is dissolving with the serenity of it all, the sensation muted and dreamy. Until her fingers trail up further, reaching the crook of his arm and his heart stops. 

He can’t see where her fingers are touching, his arm obscured by her body, but he knows what it looks like. Tiny injection sites where he numbs his mind, the scars he’s earning for his cowardice. Elle isn’t stupid. She knows exactly what those marks are. 

He waits for her to say something, but she’s silent for a long time while his heart races, her fingers gracing the marred skin. Her face is tilted away from his and what he can see of it is unreadable. Eventually, she says, voice hardly above a whisper, “Have you taken anything tonight?”

For a second, he weighs the benefits of lying. But she’s smarter than that, and it’s a night for cruel truth, so he mutters, “Yes. A few hours ago.”

He feels more than sees her nod, the movement making her hair drag across the skin of his pectorals. “What are you on?”

Another long pause before he confesses, “Dilaudid.”  

She curses. “You seemed off, but I thought maybe you were drunk. Not…”

He can’t see her expression, but he can almost hear her mind working. Not heroin, but not much better. Addictive, sedative, criminal, impairing. He’s intoxicated, and she spent years working in the sex crimes division. She doesn’t say anything, so he whispers a pathetic, “I’m sorry.”

He doesn’t know exactly what he’s apologising for. Not telling her, perhaps. Or maybe telling her now. He thinks he might just be apologising for becoming this in the first place. For not being strong enough. 

Her profiler’s mind is clearly ticking over their interactions all night, trying to work out if she could have known. “You’ve been so forward all night. Kissing me at the bar, asking me to come back to yours. Even tracking my number down and organising this, I should have realised. It’s not like you.” He doesn’t know what to say to that, so he says nothing. She sighs softly, and asks, “When you were held hostage…?”

He doesn’t need her to finish the question. “He gave me Dilaudid. His was cut with a psychedelic, but I found some that was more pure.” 

“Do you take it at work?”

The question is very Elle. Focussed on logistics over feelings. But he can see the concern embedded under it. She’s trying to work out how far gone he is, so she can decide what to do next. 

“No,” he lies. He takes it with him on cases, and shoots up at night. It’s risky business, but it hasn’t backfired yet. He’s almost certain Gideon knows, but no one’s brought it up. He’s not naive enough to think it’ll stay that way. 

If she hears the lie in his voice, she doesn’t push it. Her fingers haven’t stopped their gentle tracing, and he clings onto that as a lifeline. She hasn’t pushed him away. 

“If you’re caught, they won’t be kind to you,” she says as if he doesn’t know. “They won’t care that it’s the job that caused it. You’ll be fired, maybe prosecuted.”

“I know,” he says. He’s thought about that. He’s not sure what he’ll do when it happens. He’ll get a professor job, hopefully, or become some kind of consultant. Or he’ll drive his car into a tree and get it over with. He hasn’t decided yet. “I’m sorry,” he repeats, and this time he’s apologising that she knows. His burden has become, temporarily, hers. Dragged back into the soap opera of the BAU, 

“I can’t tell you what to do,” she says, finally. “You know what I think.” 

He does. “What do you do now?” he asks, and it’s a weak deflection, but he’s curious. Garcia offered to update him on Elle’s life, but he didn’t want to find out through someone else. 

She hesitates before murmuring, “Early intervention. Identifying kids who are showing anti-social behaviour.”

It makes sense. Burned out by catching killers, she wants to find them before they even start. “Do you like it?”

“Yeah, I do,” she says quietly. “Pay is worse, and there’s a lot less excitement, but it… takes less. I feel like a person again.”

He can’t help the little ripple of jealousy that courses through him at the prospect. The hard shell the job has given him feels impossible to cast off sometimes, no matter how hard he tries to stay in touch with his own humanity. But it’s all he is anymore. He doesn’t think he’s capable of going back to a normal job. He’ll still see killers behind his eyelids. But he doesn’t want to say any of that. Instead, he whispers, “I’m glad.”

“I do… miss it,” she admits. “I miss Garcia and Morgan flirting in the middle of cases and Gideon’s pep talks and when I’d make a joke and Hotch would smile and I’d feel special because he never does. I miss your tangents and the way you always confuse the local cops. I miss the feeling of catching the unsub and knowing they’ll never hurt anyone again, and knowing I was the reason someone who would have died gets to live.” 

It’s a shocking amount of vulnerability from her, and he thinks for a moment he might be hallucinating. But he isn’t, and he feels gripped by a sudden need to make her understand how much he misses her, how much it hurt when she left. He swallows hard and says, “Before you joined, Gideon was on sabbatical, and it was just me, Hotch and Morgan. Sometimes, it was… lonely. A very alpha male environment. And then you joined, and you never acted like I was too weak to be there. You never wanted to keep me out of danger. You stood up for me. When I came back from visiting my mother during the Fisher King case, you said you didn’t want me to ever leave again. I never- I never told you how much that meant to me. And then you were gone. They filled your spot, and she’s smart and kind and a good agent, and it makes me so guilty that sometimes I hate her for not being you.”

Her breathing sharpens and becomes unsteady, and he thinks he’s said too much. But then she whispers, “I’m sorry I couldn’t stay. You were the hardest person to leave.”

The words are like a blade, and he hates himself for making her regret doing what she needed to do for herself to survive. “Don’t- I’m glad you’re happier now.”

“I am,” she says softly. After a moment, she adds, “The new agent - try to be her friend. When I started, you were so kind. It made it easier, having someone around who was always kind. Do that for her too. I’m sure she needs it. And you need it too.”

“I will,” he says hoarsely. These are parting words. But he’s not ready for this to end.

They return to silence, a million unsaids hovering over their heads. He tries to think of anything to make her stay, but he can’t do that to her. He’s selfish and cruel, but he can’t force her hand. Not when she’s granted him the boon of a farewell. Eventually, she moves to roll over and stand, and before he can stop himself, his hand is darting out to grab her, the skin of her shoulder soft under his fingers. “Please,” he says, and the desperation in his voice makes him sick. “Don’t go.”

She sighs and stills. His mouth is dry as they stay locked in place. After seconds that feel like hours, she turns back around to face him. “Spencer…”

“I’m not ready for you to go yet. Please.” He’s pathetic, but he can’t just lie there and watch her go. He has to, he has to set her free from him and from the FBI and from the memories that choke them like smoke, but he can’t. 

“I’ll call you,” she says softly. They both know she won’t. But it’s a hopeless cause. Once she’s set on something, heaven itself couldn’t change Elle Greenaway’s mind. She goes to move again, but stops. “I won’t tell you to quit, and I won’t tell them you’re using anything. If you quit, it needs to be something you choose to do for yourself. But if you ever do, call me, Spencer.”

It’s an olive branch, and it’s the best he’ll get from her. It’s not an ultimatum - she’s not asking him to pick between her or the job. She respects herself too much to ever let herself be an option. But the message is clear. As long as he works for the FBI, he won’t see her again. 

This time, when she moves to leave, he doesn’t stop her. He just watches her put her clothes back on and fix her hair. 

As soon as she’s dressed, she turns back to face him and breathes a horrible, shuddering breath. “This is my last week in DC. That’s why I agreed to see you. I owed you - us - that much.”

For all he’d known this was a goodbye, the words carve something deep in the hollow of his ribcage. It’s clear she had no intention of telling him. He wonders what made her change her mind. 

“Where-” his voice catches and he swallows hard. “Where are you moving to?”

“Illinois,” she says, voice faux casual. “Chicago.”

He nods stiffly. His head is a twisting maelstrom of things he wants to tell her, but his throat feels jammed and gummed shut. They won’t even share a city.  “I’ll miss you,” is all he manages. 

She looks like she might cry. He doesn’t know what he’d do if she did. “I’ll miss you too, Spencer.” After a pause, she adds, “I’m sorry I couldn’t stay.”

“It’s okay,” he lies. “I understand.”

It’s wrong, it’s all wrong. These are the parting words of cordial colleagues, not those of- whatever amorphous thing they are. There’s still so much to say, so much to confess.

She jerks her head, and turns away, slipping out the door without a goodbye. 

The emptiness of his room feels cavernous without her. It takes a long time for him to move, frozen with regret and grief. He wants to chase her, beg her to stay, promise to quit his job and follow her to Chicago and just be hers. But she wouldn’t want him to. And he’s lost too much for his job to leave it now. 

For a while, he lets himself slip into memories. The good ones. Scrabble on the floor of the bullpen after a case, walking her home after a team night out at the bar, hiding her in the closet when Hotch came by unexpectedly to discuss a case and laughing together so hard his ribs hurt when Hotch left. His phone is a hard lump in the pile his pants make on the floor and everything in him itches to pick it up and call her. 

But he’s been selfish for too long. 

So instead, he pulls the little box of needles and vials out from under the loose floorboard next to his bed. The movements are practised by now, securing a tie around his arm to bring out the vein, pulling the liquid Dilaudid into the syringe, releasing it into the vein. 

He’s a coward, but it’s better than cruel.

The Dilaudid fills his bones with a heady, thrumming bliss, drowning out the ache of loss. He thinks of her smile. He thinks of her hands. He thinks, finally, of nothing at all. 

He puts the box back under the floorboard with clumsy, leaden hands and lays down on the bed, tracing constellations in the popcorn ceiling with his eyes.

The emptiness becomes nothingness and he smiles at the quiet.