#and him having a lot of insecurity about that | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

mismatched-sockss · 2 days

Text

Follow my lead

» Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!Reader » Word count: 5,8k (help, i got a little carried away..) » Warnings: 18+ only, MDNI, squint and you'll miss the plot, established relationship, reader hasn't been able to orgasm from masturbation alone, mentions of using sex toys to cum (f), guided masturbation, masturbation (f and m), praising / praise kink, dirty talk, unintentional edging (f), voyerism, multiple orgasms, some begging, a lot of check ins, unprotected p in v, creampie, i think this already counts as (soft)dom!Spencer, pet names (good girl for reader, baby, love) » A/N: and here we have my first entry for the bingo! it's my first time participating in a bigger challenge, i can't tell you all how excited i am about this whole thing. don't ask me what happend here, i was shocked when i checked the word count... also, this is the first time writing smut again after years, so bare with me please. hope you enjoy!

⚶ bingo masterlist | masterlist ⚶

“Never?”

“Never. I don't know, it just doesn't do it for me.”

“But you are- I mean, when”, Spencer mumbled, waving his hands around and pointing at you then him, back and forth a couple of times. “When we-”, he trailed off, his cheeks blushing as he got shy and a bit insecure.

“Oh? No”, you started but when his eyes slightly widened you realized it came out wrong. You stepped closer to him and took his hands in yours, softly squeezing them as you looked up at him with a reassuring smile. “Yes, it works when we are sleeping with each other. You do make me cum.” He huffed out a small laugh and blushed a bit more, but the insecurity that had bubbled up was leaving him again.

You pulled him in to you and placed his hands on your waist, then leaned against him and rested your chin against his chest, looking up at him. Shrugging, you wrapped your arms around his mid. “I just can't finish from only touching myself. Not without using toys that require batteries at least.”

Spencer softly squeezed your waist and started drawing circles with his thumbs. He slightly squinted his eyes and nodded his head a couple of times in thought; you could practically hear the gears turning as an idea formed in his mind. You raised your chin. “What?”

“Show me.”

“Huh? Show you? You mean, you...”, you trailed off. Now it was your turn to get shy, the heat rising up in your body, creeping higher until your face grew hot. “You want to watch me.. masturbate?”

Spencer nodded, one side of his lips turned up in a teasing half smile. “Yes. You said I make you cum, so there must be something I'm doing right.” Both of you chuckled at that. “You could show me how you touch yourself and I could talk you through it. If you'd like to try, I mean.”

Subconsciously you pressed you thighs together, which Spencer didn't miss. You licked over your bottom lip, then pulled it between your teeth as you thought about what he was saying. Spencer's eyes followed the motion as he was studying your face, studying your reaction to his proposition.

The thought alone made your heart beat faster and it ignited a raging fire in you. The thought of his eyes watching closely as you lie before him, legs spread and with your hands between your thighs. His voice and words guiding and aiding your pleasure, telling you what to do and how to do it...

Your breath hitched and you swallowed hard. He raised one of his hands to cup your cheek, his thumb softly brushed over the corner of your mouth. “Is that a yes?”, he asked, his voice low. Spencer already knew the answer just by watching your reaction, but wanted you to say it out loud. His other hand sneaked under your shirt, his fingertips caressing your skin on their way higher and higher until he stopped at your ribs.

If he would give you a second, just one second without him touching or teasing you in some way, you would be able to form a sentence and answer with more than a nod. As if he had read your mind, Spencer slightly pulled back, giving you space to breathe and without his hands on you.

And even though this was what you had wanted a few seconds ago so you could properly answer him, you immediately missed his touch and a whine escaped you. He just chuckled and raised an eyebrow, encouraging you to speak, still waiting for an answer.

“Okay. Yes”, you breathed out and nodded, “wanna do it.” A desperate plea still on your tongue, he cupped your cheeks and pressed his lips to yours.

You sighed against his mouth, your lips parting. Spencer deepened the kiss and both of you moaned when your tongues met. A shiver ran down your spine when you felt his hands slide down over your neck and collarbones, over your chest where he was careful not to touch your nipples through the fabric and down to your sides, where he pushed them back under the hem of your shirt, slowly making his way up..

The kiss only broke for a moment when he pulled your shirt over your head, his lips instantly reattaching to yours and his hands back on you, now able to roam freely over your skin without any restrictions. You slid your own hands over his chest and started to unbutton his dress shirt. You just undid the last button when you gasped and bunched up the material in your hands; Spencer slowly slid one of his hands under the hem of your panties and groaned against your lips when he felt how wet you were.

His finger slid through your folds, teasing at your entrance before he drew slow and gentle circles on your clit. When your breath hitched and you began to grind your hips against his hand, he stopped and pulled his hand out of your pants

“Nuh-uh, the deal was for you to make yourself cum; with your own hands”, he taunted, as if he hadn't started this himself just now. He lifted your chin and pressed a kiss to your lips. When he leaned back you tried to chase his lips, whining when he left you hanging and took a step back, shrugging the shirt off his shoulders as he did so. Then he took another step. And another. “Take the rest of your clothes off.”

The buckle of his belt rattled as Spencer opened it, your eyes followed his hands. You watched him pull it out of the loops and drop it to the floor next to him before he unbuttoned his pants – but kept them on – and sat down in the armchair. His eyes never left you, following each of your moves. You hooked your thumbs into the hem of your pants and underwear and pulled them down, letting them pool around your ankles.

“Sit down, spread your legs and put your hands on your knees.”

You stepped out of the pile of fabric and kicked them to the side, right onto the rest of your discarded clothes, then you did as he told you and sat down across from him on the sofa, slowly opening your legs.

Being naked in front of Spencer was one thing, but this? It was a totally new feeling for you; a different – a special – kind of vulnerability you had never experienced before, not with him, not with anybody.

You felt like your skin was on fire, inch after inch getting ignited as Spencer's eyes wandered over your naked body, lingering here and there for a moment; on your bottom lip when you licked over it and pulled it between your teeth, the swell of your breasts and your hardening nipples, down over your soft stomach to your glistening pussy, already wet from his teasing, and your hands loosely resting on your knees.

“Like that. Good girl.”

This wasn't the first time he called you a 'good girl', but today... Fuck... A shiver ran down your back and you were barely able to hold back a whimper, the ache in your core getting stronger and you felt yourself clench around nothing. God, you wanted to feel him deep inside you; tongue, fingers, cock. What ever you could get. What ever he would give you. Your hands shook in anticipation and you felt yourself getting wetter and needier.

Spencer's eyes darkened when he saw your intense reaction to the praise and his jaw went slack for a moment before he fixed his gaze back on your face, trying to gain back some composure. His hands held a tight grip on the armrests, his knuckles almost white, as if he had to physically hold himself back from just getting up and ravaging you right then and there.

You loved the effect you had on him, that just seeing you drove him crazy. It made you feel powerful.

He took a deep breath in through his nose and slowly breathed out, calming himself down. His grip on the armrests loosened then and he leaned back. “I want you to start by moving your hands over your thighs”, he instructed, his voice low and raspy. “Slowly.”

Without having to think about it you followed his words and let your hands glide over your soft skin with a gentle pressure; from your knees over the outsides of your thighs until you reached your hips, then you moved them up to slide them back down to your knees again.

“You can touch your inner thighs as well, but don't touch your pussy yet.”

You nodded and took a shaky breath. The insides of your thighs were more sensitive and you shuddered as you got closer and closer to your core and a soft moan escaped your lips. Even though Spencer told you not to, you wanted nothing more than to play with your clit or slide two of your fingers inside, thrusting them in and out.

And when he moved his hand to his bulge, palming himself as he watched you, you thought that maybe, he would let you do it. He didn't give you permission and you didn't ask, but you didn't stop moving your hands further up. But when your fingertips got too close to your folds, he clicked his tongue disapprovingly.

“Sorry”, you mumbled breathless and pulled your hands back. You slid them back down, closer to your knees, and grabbed your thighs.

“'s okay, baby.” Then Spencer chuckled. “And you can sit more comfortably if you want, by the way. You don't have to sit up with a straight back.”

You pouted with a smile on your lips as you looked beside you and grabbed a pillow to put it behind your back. “I knew that.” You leaned back, testing if the pillow was in a good position and when you where satisfied with the placement you scooted back some more and fully rested your body against it.

“Anything you feel like doing right now?”, Spencer asked. You opened your mouth, but before you could say anything he added with a smirk: “Except for touching your pussy.”

You grinned at him. “What about for you to fuck me?” But he just shook his head, chuckling.

“Patience, love.”

Well, it was still worth a try. You held back the disappointed and needy whine that wanted to come out and for a moment you tried to think about it, you really did. But you made the mistake to look down his torso and Spencer's hand was just too damn distracting. He was still palming himself over his pants, softly squeezing from time to time. And while he was waiting for your answer, he lazily stroked his thumb back and forth over his clothed shaft.

The words came out choked and barely audible when you finally forced yourself to answer, your fingers digging hard in to your flesh. “Don't know...”

“First thing that comes to mind.” His voice was lazed with amusement; Spencer was enjoying this so much and he knew exactly what he was doing to you right now. His tongue darted out to lick over his lip and the softly bit down in the tip.

After a deep breath you made yourself look at his face and softened the grip you had on your thighs. “Maybe... touch my breasts? My nipples?”

He smiled softly. “No wrong answers here.” With a tilt of his head he raised his chin as confirmation. “Go ahead. Keep your hands on your body.”

With a tender touch your moved your hands up your body, softly caressing your skin, up to your tits and cupped them with your hands.

“Gently massage them, play with your nipples.”

You gasped when you followed his instructions and rolled your hard nipples between your fingers, the sensation shooting waves of pleasure down to your core. With every flick and twist you grew needier. Impatient.

"Feels good?", he asked breathy, his voice shaking a bit when he moved his hand faster and with more pressure over his cock.

"Not as good as when you do it”, you whined.

Spencer chuckled again; his tone teasing. "Want me to touch you?"

You nodded your head eagerly, your back slightly arching into your hands. "Mh-hm, please."

"Wanna see you make yourself cum first, okay? You can do it. I'll touch you as much as you want after."

If you wouldn't get some kind of release soon, you would go insane, completely feral. Closing your legs to press your thighs together for some friction wasn't an option and with the way you were sitting you couldn't exactly try and rub yourself against the sofa. And maybe it was written on your face in big, bold letters, because Spencer – finally – gave you the go.

“Slide your hands down your stomach, move your fingertips over your lips and tease yourself for a moment – yes, good, like that. When you are ready, go ahead and touch your clit. Soft circles.”

The first stoke of your fingers over your clit felt like heaven and ecstasy flooded through your whole body. Your head fell back and you moaned loudly; it felt so good to finally be able to feel your fingers where you so desperately had wanted them that your body started to tremble. A string of mashed together words fell from your lips, you didn't even realize you were saying them. ”Thankyouthankyouthankyou-”

You melted back into the pillow, gasping and moaning as the pleasure became more and more; your other hand found its way back to your tits on its own, groping at the soft flesh and teasing your nipple as your fingers between your legs moved in slow, tight circles.

The sound of clothes rustling made you lift your head; Spencer lifted his hips to slip off his pants, letting them pool around his ankles. He adjusted his position and leaned back, his knees slightly falling apart and he wrapped his hand around his hard cock.

The sight made you whimper, the need to taste him and feel him overtaking your whole being. But you knew, even if you would ask – beg – him to fuck you, he wouldn't do it, not now; you hadn't cum yet. So you did the next best thing and pushed two of your fingers into your leaking cunt.

A breathy laugh fell from Spencer's lips as he watched you start to thrust your fingers into yourself as soon as you had seen him. His grip on his cock tightened and he started to pump his fist faster, not holding back his own moans. He so desperately wanted to bury himself in your tight walls and it took everything in him to hold back. “God, you look so perfect right now... So fucking pretty.”

The both of you worked each other up, the pleasure getting more intense with every stroke; hands moving, touching and teasing with more and more want and desperation.

But somehow it still wasn't enough. “Can I go faster?”, you whimpered, your voice wavering.

“Of course, baby. Go as fast or as slow as you want.”

The room filled with both of your moans and panting, and the sounds of skin hitting on skin – Spencer's fist hitting his pelvis and the palm of your hand slapping against your slick cunt – as you gradually picked up the pace until you were franticly fucking yourself with your fingers.

After a while you slowed down your pace again, trying to catch your breath. You felt the familiar knot form in your belly as you pumped your fingers in and out of your heat, your walls fluttering around them.

“Think I'm getting close...”, you breathed out, followed by a high-pitched gasp when your palm rubbed over your clit.

A groan formed in the back of Spencer's throat. “Touch your clit again; you can go slow or fast, in circles or not, however it feels right.”

You pulled your fingers out and swirled them over your clit, your fingertips effortlessly sliding over it. The muscles in your stomach tightened as your orgasm built up. You fought against the urge to thrust your hips up, trying to keep your focus on rubbing your clit. You didn't want to get distracted, this was the closest you had ever gotten yourself and if you had to concentrate on moving your hips as well as your hand and fingers, you wouldn't be able to keep up with both movements.

Your breathing got quicker and heat was rising up in your body. Just when you felt like you would burst – it stopped; instead of falling over the edge your body refused to go further, keeping you right on the ledge. As if it was taunting you, the sensation became weaker, not even leaving you on the edge any more.

It was always like this when you tried to finish without a toy; your managed to make yourself feel good and when you got close – which also felt like it took forever to even get there – your body refused to give you the release you had been chasing.

A whine left your lips, you were borderline sobbing, as you squeezed your eyes shut. The need to cum and the frustration that it wasn't working, together with the unintentionally edging had you close to tears. You slowed your movements, but kept going nonetheless. “I can't. Told you it doesn't work for me.”

“Don't fight it, you almost had it. Let your body take control and let it guide you.”

You nodded eagerly and met his eyes. “Okay, I- I'll try.” You tried to hold his gaze and after a deep breath you slowly pick up the pace again. Spencer matched your pace, the slow lazy strokes getting faster as he pumped his cock with the same speed your fingers were circling your clit. Your eyelids fluttered as your gaze flickered between his face – all flushed, desire burning in his eyes and slack-jawed, with his lips slightly parted – and his hand stroking his erection.

This time when your hips jolted, you let it happen and shifted your focus to what you were feeling instead of what you were doing. It took you a moment or two to fully let go and give into the pleasure, your movements faltering a couple of times until your mind cleared and your hips and fingers synced up to work together in a delicious, steady rhythm.

“That's it, baby. Just like that. You are doing so well.” Spencer's voice was low and his tone had gotten so gravelly, he was almost growling.

You leaned back, your moans getting louder again as heat spread under your skin until your whole body was on fire , the knot in your stomach began to tighten again. It got tighter and tighter until –

“Oh fuck”, you screamed out in between your moans as your legs began to shake, and when the coil in your lower belly snapped your thighs clamped shut. Your hand stilled and your fingers stopped working your clit; instead your hips kept jolting, thrusting up into your fingers and prolonged your orgasm on their own accord. Your back arched off the sofa and you slapped your other hand on the cushion next to you, tightly gripping it in your fist.

When your body finally calmed down you gasped for air and through the foggy haze clouding your mind you vaguely registered moaning and a string of words – probably an array of curses, maybe even some praise about how well you did, how pretty you looked when you came, good girl – but the blood rushing through your ears was too loud, making it hard to make out any words.

As your muscles relaxed more, your body got limb and let yourself slide along the back of the couch until you were lying down; pulling one leg onto the couch, the other still hanging down. The more oxygen you got, the more you came back to. The shaking in your legs had almost stopped, instead your shoulders started to shake as you began to giggle. “Holy shit.”

A low laugh made you turn your head to the side and open your eyes. Your were met with Spencer's face right next to yours, a proud smile on his lips as he took in your blissed out state. He had just knelt down next to you, his hand found its way to your forehead and brushed away a few sweaty strands. “See? Knew you could do it, 'm so proud of you, baby.” He moved his hand to cup your cheeks, then further down to curl it around the back of your neck.

Your smile grew bigger and you took a shaky breath to say something, but before you could Spencer pulled you closer and kissed you desperately; the need to be near you, touch you, feel you, overpowering him. You kissed him back just as feverishly and buried your hands in his hair. Spencer let his hand wander from your neck down to your breasts, his fingers leaving your skin burning up and begging for more. He cupped one of them, gently massaging it and started playing with your nipple, rolling it between his fingertips and pinching it with just the right amount of pressure that made you tremble and arch your back into him.

You whimpered and softly tugged on the strands at the back of his head. He groaned into your mouth in return and you felt him shift his position as he got up, pulling his knee up to hold him self up so he could lean over you. His touch and his lips, finally feeling his hands on your body, made you feel dizzy and reignited the ache in your core, your clit throbbing, desperately waiting for his attention.

The sudden feeling of his hand between your thighs made you jump a little, you broke the kiss and gasped which quickly turned into a high-pitched moan when he slipped one of his fingers in between your slick folds, only grazing your entrance as he collected some of your arousal. You were still sensitive from your orgasm, but the rush of him finally touching you was stronger and you started to move your hips.

He didn't make you wait long and so after a few tight circles over your clit, he slid his fingers down to your entrance and sank two of them into you, filling you up so much better than your own had done and reaching that spot deep inside you that you couldn't quite reach yourself.

The both of you quickly fell in an easy rhythm with each other and he had you a moaning and blabbering mess in a matter of seconds; it would almost be embarrassing if you would care about it. It blew your mind every time – every god damn day – how much power Spencer held over you, both body and mind. And if he would be anybody else, it might even scare you.

“You looked so beautiful, love, you have no idea”, Spencer breathlessly cooed against your delicate skin, kissing and softly nibbling along your neck and throat. “Could watch you play with yourself all day.”

You wouldn't be able to say anything to him even if you wanted, your mind getting blank and fuzzy; all what left your lips where breathy moans and pleas. A whiny gasp left your throat when he curled his fingers, pressing his fingertips against the very spot that made you see stars.

Spencer kissed his way to the sensitive spot under your ear and when he spoke again, whispering into your ear, his lips grazed it. “Can feel how close you are, it's okay, baby. Come for me.”

He asked and your body complied.

With his name on your lips, repeating it over and over like a prayer, your orgasm washed over you. Your eyes rolled back and when your whole body tensed up, you tried to hold on to something to anchor yourself. You blindly reached for his wrist and held it in a tight grip, your other hand curled around his arm, clawing at his biceps. Spencer kept the pace he was circling your clit with his thumb with and pumping his fingers into you as you clenched around them, trying to suck him in deeper.

Your walls were still fluttering around his fingers when you released his wrist from your grip and moved your hand to the back of his head, pulling him even closer to you. The vibrations of him chuckling against your pulse tickled your skin and you whined quietly when he slowly pulled his fingers out of your cunt, leaving you empty. He slightly leaned back and looked at you, a crooked smirk stretched on his lips. “Still want more, huh?”

“Please, baby, need you, please.” You keened, not at all caring how needy you sounded.

He shook his head at you, not to say no, but in a affectionate you are something else kind of way. “Think you got enough strength left to hold yourself up a little?”

“Yes, think so.” You swallowed and breathed deeply, nodding your head as you held his gaze. ”I will.”

“That's my good girl.” Spencer closed the small space between you and kissed you, swallowing the whiny sound you made, his lips lingering on yours for a moment, then he helped you to sit up. You watched him reach for the other pillows that had scattered around the couch and bunch them up, piling them against the back of the seats, right next to you. “C'mere.”

His hands found your hips and you let him guide you in to the position he had wanted you in, right against the pillows. He guided you to sit – kneel really – in front of the piled up pillows, chest facing them and gently pushed your upper body with a hand between your shoulder blades down. You lay against the pile, letting it support your body and after adjusting it a bit, you crossed your arms on top and placed your head down; you were practically hugging the whole thing.

He nudged your leg with his knee to spread your legs more so he could kneel behind you. With a sigh you relaxed your muscles and enjoyed Spencers hands roaming over your back. He planted a couple of kisses on your neck and shoulder, then placed his hand on the backrest behind you to hold himself up and craned his neck to catch your eyes. You shifted the position of your head slightly so you could look at him better.

“Are you comfortable?”

You smiled at him and hummed, nodding your head. Spencer returned the smile and leaned closer, to capture your lips in a kiss. It was supposed to be a quick one, just a small peck, but his front was now flush against your back and his dick had fit so perfectly between you, with his shaft splitting your folds and pressed against your entrance that he couldn't hold back any more.

So instead, he moved his hand from the sofa to the back of your head, holding you close as he slid his tongue into your mouth and deepened the kiss. You moaned into each others mouths, desperately rocking your hips against each other. He pressed himself against you as close as possible, leaving no space between your bodies, as if he wanted to make up for the time he hadn't touched you all evening.

All it took was for him to pull back just a bit more and his cock slipped right into you, bottoming out at once. “Shit”, you hissed at the sudden stretch, directly followed by crying out his name in pleasure when he pulled out just an inch or two and slowly thrust back in, even deeper.

His forehead fell to your shoulder and Spencer let out a long, deep moan. He placed his left hand back on the backrest – closer to your front this time so his arm was circling around you, more like he was holding you in a hug – and his other took a tight hold on your hip. For a long moment neither of you moved, just basking in the feeling of each other and trying to catch your breaths.

Every time you exhaled, a soft whimpering sigh left your lips. You pulled your left arm out from under your body and reached for his hand on the backrest, slotting your fingers between his. He moved his fingers slightly so he could gently squeeze yours.

Spencer was the first to move. You felt him lift his head and press his lips to your shoulder, before he repeated the same slow and deep thrust from before, not moving his body away even an inch from yours. He kept rolling his hips into you in a slow pace, pushing in deep and hard rather than fast.

Your whole body was pushed hard against the pillows in front of you every time he rocked into you, every thrust eliciting a low moan from you. You let your head fall back against him, leaning the side of your face against his. “Fuck, feel so good around me”, he groaned right by your ear, his warm breath hitting your skin.

He kept the slow and hard pace for a while, only moving faster when you pushed back against him, needing to feel more of him. You gasped with every quickening breath, the ache in your stomach was growing again. “'m close”, you breathed out, your hand tightening the hold on his.

With his nose he gently nudged your cheek. “You know what to do”, he said breathless.

You shook your head quickly, whining desperately. “No, no, no, nonono, please, need you to touch me. Please.”

“Aw, but you did so well earlier.” He planted a kiss to your jaw, then moved his lips to your ear and pulled your earlobe between his teeth, gently nibbling on it.

“Promised...Ah... Said 'yd touch me.. all I want...” You got quieter with every word, your voice high-pitched and shaky with need.

Spencer chuckled and leaned his forehead against your temple. “Mmh, I did, didn't I?” All you could do was nod, not trusting your voice any more. But there were no more words needed. He sneaked his free hand between you and the pillows to give you what you wanted, needed.

You hadn't expected to be this sensitive, but when his fingertips slid over your clit you jolted forward, crying out his name. “Fuck...” His chest rumbled with a deep laugh against your back and he pushed your body against the pile of pillows with his own to hold you in place. In sync with the quick flicks of his fingers, he picked up the pace he was thrusting into your pussy, his hips snapping against you faster and faster.

You tried to hold yourself up, leaning your forearms against the backrest, but your arms had gotten too weak so all you could do was hold onto it with your hands in a tight grip, taking what Spencer gave you; your head hung low and nothing more then moans left your lips.

When he felt you clench hard around him, Spencer groaned and leaned his temple against yours, his mouth near your ear. “Such a good girl, taking me so well”, he panted and increased the pressure on your clit; the praise did exactly what he had intended and it sent you over the edge, with a choked out cry your back arched against him and you came, your whole body shaking. He had been close before, but it took him by surprise when you pussy clenched so hard around him that you pulled him right with you, his dick twitching and he spilled himself into you.

Both of you collapsed against the back of the sofa, breathing hard, and you let out an uff when Spencer's weight got too much. “Sorry”, he said breathlessly and immediately pulled back; you hissed when he pulled out in the same move. He moved his arm around your torso and helped you holding yourself up. You tiredly grabbed pillow after pillow and just threw it blindly to the side to let them fall to the floor. The last one was a bit difficult to get out from under you, but after you got it out you moved it to the end of the couch.

You let your body fall into the cushions, ringing for air and with your eyes closed. Next to you, Spencer got up. You reached out to him, alarmed when you heard him stumble; he luckily had regained his balance before he fell over his own feet, but his knees were still a bit wobbly. “Are you okay?”, you asked, your lips stretching into a worried smile. He huffed out a laugh and took the hand you had reached out into his, pressing a kiss to your knuckles.

“Yeah, I'm good. Just wanted to get us some water.” He gave your fingers a gentle squeeze before he let go and bend down to get his boxer shorts to put them back on before he slowly walked into the kitchen. Not even a minute later he came back and handed you a glass of cold water, his own already half empty.

When you had finished your water he took your glasses and put them down on the coffee table. You lifted your arms and reached for him, beckoning for him to come back and lay down on the couch with you.

“Five minutes”, you said softly, a wide smile on your lips; you already knew Spencer was about to shoo you up and into the shower.

He huffed, but took your hand and joined you. You made him some space and rested your head on his chest as he wrapped his arms around you. You hummed content, nuzzling your face deeper into the crook of his neck, closing your eyes. After a short moment you mumbled: “Maybe ten minutes...”

Spencer just laughed and pulled you closer.

#cmkinkbingo2024 #spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer x reader #spencer reid smut #spencer reid fanfiction #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfiction #ghosts can write #💜 s.r.#--- mismatched🧦

389 notes · View notes

miniseokminnies · 2 days

Text

rivers and roads —- c.hs

˚｡ pairing: chwe hansol x afab!reader ˚｡ genre: friends to lovers, idiots to lovers ˚｡ wc: 5.6k ˚｡ warnings: 18+ MDNI, drug mention (weed), alcohol mention, one uncomfortable situation with a stranger who is a man, lying to hotel staff, spit kink, oral [m. receiving], multiple orgasms, praise kink, slight dacryphilia, insecurity, anxiety, slight angst with a happy ending ˚｡ synopsis: having just graduated college and having some time before the real world starts two best friends decide to take a road trip that might change their friendship forever. ˚｡ playlist: rivers and roads

mood board by: @myhimbomingi

You smooth your hands over the rough polyester of your ugly blue graduation gown. Staring ahead and starting to fidget in line to walk across the stage you felt a hand slip into yours and give a supportive squeeze. Looking up your eyes met the deep brown of your best friend, Hansol’s.

“Nervous?” he asked softly, beginning to rub circles on the back of your hand with his thumb. Your eyes drifted back to the stage and you nodded,

“What if I trip?” you muttered as the two of you moved forward in the line, the monotonous announcer continuing to read through the names of your graduating classmates. Hansol chuckled, knowing that your concern is valid, but not anything you needed to worry about. Hansol and yourself have been friends since college orientation the summer before your freshman year. The two of you were in the same group and immediately clicked. Slowly the two of you expanded your group, mostly consisting of the two of you and some guys that lived on Hansol’s dorm floor freshman year.

“Chwe Hansol” the announcer boomed over the microphone. He smiled down at you and you felt his hand slip out of yours.

***

“So does anyone have any big plans before we join the workforce?” your friend Seokmin smiled at your group’s last weekly Saturday lunch before you all went your separate ways.

“Y/N and I are going on a road trip” Hansol said nonchalantly without looking up from his menu. Joshua and Jeonghan exchanged a quick glance,

“Oh? Where to?” the latter asked.

“Dunno” you shrugged, “just taking two weeks to see where we end up” Jeonghan nodded, glancing at Joshua again.

“Sounds boring” Junhui muttered, engrossed in his phone, “ow!” he yelped as Minghao shoved his elbow into his ribs.

***

Clutching onto the straps of your duffle bag you began to bounce on the balls of your feet. You saw Hansol’s red pick up truck pull into the parking lot of your apartment complex and you slung your backpack over your left shoulder and your duffle over your right and bounded out the door. Vernon laughed as he spotted you, so clearly excited. He wordlessly took your duffle and placed it in the back of the cab behind the passenger’s seat. You set your backpack on the floor of the passenger's seat and climbed into the truck.

“Ready?” Hansol asked as he got behind the wheel. You smiled widely at him and nodded. He gave you a single nod and started the truck.

Driving with Hansol was always something you enjoyed, the two of you spent a lot of time during college just driving around. He always had new music to play for you. He was always a comfort for you, and comfortable silence, apart from the music from the speakers, took over the drive quickly.

After a few hours of driving and intermittent conversation, you felt your eyelids getting heavy. You shifted in your seat, trying to get more comfortable.

“Close your eyes, nap” Hansol said softly without looking away from the road.

“Mmm, keeping you company” you mumbled, closing your eyes and leaning your cheek on your hand.

“I’m fine, Y/N” he chuckled. You nodded, slipping into sleep quickly. Hansol looked over at your sleeping form, and feeling an odd sensation in his chest, looked back to the road.

You felt a hand on your shoulder, shaking you awake, “Y/N” you heard Hansol, your eyes fluttered open, seeing him close to you.

“Hm?” you hummed, rubbing your eye and looking up at him.

“I found a motel, they have a room for us” he told you. You nodded and picked up your backpack from the floor. Hansol already had your duffle over his shoulder and his backpack on. Once you were settled he began leading you toward the room he rented.

“Where are we?” You called to Hansol from the bathroom and squeezed some of your cleanser into your hand.

“About six hours south of your apartment,” your friend appeared in the doorway to the bathroom, now in his pajamas, and leaned against the doorframe, “I don’t know the name of the town, or what’s here”

Once the two of you were ready for bed you settled in one of the two beds in the room.

“Good night, ‘Sol” you yawned. Hansol hummed in response and shut off the light.

***

You were up before Hansol the next morning. Letting him sleep you slipped into the shower, what felt comfortable in the car the previous day was now responsible for some stiffness. You let the warm water run over your body, getting lost in the feeling. You’re not sure how long you stood there enjoying the warmth loosening your tight muscles before you heard the bathroom door swing open.

“Y/N?” you heard the sleepy voice of Hansol call out, “I’m…I just need to piss”

“Go ahead,” you replied, trying to be less awkward than your friend and beginning the process of washing your hair.

“Breakfast?” you asked, sitting on the edge of Hansol’s bed after your shower. Looking up from his phone he nodded eagerly at you,

“Please, I’m starving.”

***

Hansol and yourself didn’t stay in that town long after the meal, it was small and there wasn’t much to see beyond the amazing local breakfast cafe and your motel. The two of you have been on the road for a few hours now.

“I love this song,” Hansol mumbled, a laugh escaped your lips, “What? I do!” he scoffed at your reaction,

“I know, Hansol,” you reach across the center console to take the partially smoked joint from behind his ear, “I was the one who played you this song, remember?” He watched you from the corner of his eye place his joint between your lips and bring his zippo to the end, lighting it up.

Hansol does remember hearing this song for the first time, the crackle of your old record player in your college apartment. You looked similar to how you do now, hair tied up haphazardly, baseball cap from the university bookstore you bought that orientation day on your head. Admittedly, the hat is much more worn now. You took your single puff of his joint before passing it to him to finish off that day too.

This may be his favorite you he ever gets to see. A single blow of smoke escaping your lips. You only ever want the one, and Hansol only ever smokes his half of the joint when you start it for him. Currently, he was trying to calm his racing heart, and trying to distract himself from the fact that the joint was between your lips a few moments ago.

“Of course I do,” he took the joint between his fingers, drumming the steering wheel, “Feels different now…” he trailed off listening to the words, a year from now, we'll all be gone, all our friends will move away. Absentmindedly, he thought about how different things might be after he drops you off at your apartment in two weeks.

You watched as he blew smoke toward the window, he got this far away look in his eyes, you knew he was thinking. You knew better than to ask, Hansol was a man of few words, and if he wanted to talk about it, he would. Eyeing him you turned up the volume on the radio, you saw the corner of his mouth quirk up ever so slightly, you knew he appreciated the gesture, one of not making him talk before he was ready.

The drive droned on like this for the majority of the day, eventually the smoke stopped curling towards the window as Hansol had smoked it all away, he would need to roll more before bed. Eventually, you saw Hansol blinking furiously, trying to stay awake.

“‘Sol” you reached out to touch his arm, “Maybe we should take a break” he jumped slightly at your touch, so focused on the road.

“Where…” he chuckled, once he had regained his calm demeanor, “we’re in the middle of nowhere” you only shrugged in response,

“Pull over, it doesn’t matter” and soon the impenetrable line of trees on the side of the road gave way to an open field. Hansol pulled his truck off the road matting down the grass in its wake, he drove close to the tree line, worried about getting in trouble if someone saw the car from the road. Once the truck was safely in park you watched Hansol reach to the back of the cab and tugged a few blankets toward you two. Wordlessly he opened his door and moved toward the bed of the truck.

Turning around you watched him spread the blankets in the bed through the back window. He poked his tongue through his teeth in concentration, when he was finished he hopped off the bed and moved toward your side of the truck. You scrambled to look nonchalant, and as if you totally were not watching him, a ghost of a smile playing at your lips.

“C’mon then” he opened up your door. Following him out to the back he helped you up. Laying on your back you felt the plush of the blankets and watched Hansol as he settled down next to you. Once he was comfortable you turned your eyes to the sky and covered your eyes with your forearm. The hand nearest to Hansol was left in its place, unbeknownst to you, his pinky inched closer, trying to build the confidence to take the plunge.

You woke up to a cool drop of water plopping directly onto your forehead. When did you fall asleep? Barely having the time to wonder before the skies open up and begin to drench Hansol and yourself.

“Hansol!” you sat up and shook his shoulders, “Hansol!” his eyes fluttered open slowly, somehow for a moment you forgot the rain was beating down on you as you watched his eyes soften from the confusion they held when he first woke. The softness he usually works so hard to shield you from was on full display, you wanted to stay in this fleeting moment forever, but you realized just as quickly as the gaze softened it turned panicked.

“Oh my God!” he sat up, almost bumping his head on your nose, “it’s pouring” he stated almost too simply. The two of you worked to heave the now soaking blankets out of the bed of the truck and into the back of the cab.

Hansol slams his door shut and throws his head back against the rest behind him. He pushes a hand through his now sopping wet hair. Turning to look toward him you catch his eyes taking in his appearance. After a few seconds of holding eye contact the two of you burst into a fit of laughter.

The drooping fan blades cut through the stale hot air on the ceiling of the motel about thirty miles from where you got caught in the storm. You were sprawled out on the bed looking up at the fan, finally feeling warm now that you were able to change out of your wet clothes.

Hansol was still down in the lobby, trying to talk the motel manager into letting him use their large driers for the blankets. Finally, you heard the door open and the squish of socks inside wet shoes approach you.

“One bed?” Hansol asked. You propped yourself up on your elbows, looking him up and down, stifling another bout of laughter at his state of disheveledness.

“That’s kind of what happens when you take a trip without a plan” you pointed out, letting yourself smile so he knew you were joking. Hansol rolled his eyes, a lazy smile tugging at his lips.

“I guess you’re right” the softness in his eyes returns for a moment, before he remembered he was dripping on the floor, “I’m gonna change…” you flopped back on the bed and resumed the exhilarating activity of watching the blades of the fan lazily cutting the air.

The bathroom door clicked closed and you heard Hansol’s muffled sigh. Imagining him hanging his wet clothes next to yours over the bar of the shower you tried to ignore the heat rising in your cheeks.

“I’ll sleep on the floor” Hansol stated, startling you, you were too deep in thought to notice him. You watched as he busied himself with taking out his phone charger.

“No” you sat up again, “there’s no need to do that, it’s not like we didn’t fall asleep next to each other earlier” you watched him turn to you, greedily taking in his form, his baggy sweats and his t-shirt, “plus this floor is more than likely disgusting”

“Good point” he smiled at you, moving toward what he decided is his side of the bed, the side closest to the door. The two of you settle under the covers and Hansol clicks off the lamp on his side, “Goodnight Y/N” he mutters

“Goodnight ‘Sol” your back was turned to him, but your eyes were stuck open, feeling the adrenaline of an invisible line being crossed.

***

“Do you think everyone in this town is this stupid?” Hansol asked incredulously as the car in front of you break checked him.

“Probably,” you kicked your feet up on his dashboard, “I bet they teach them all to do this at driver’s ed, to cut people off when they’re from out of town” Hansol laughed at your made up story,

“We need to find a city I think” he muttered, “I’m a little tired of motels and small towns” Nodding in agreement you reached for the joint behind his ear, freshly rolled before you left this morning, and tried to not think about the way that his tongue darts out to wet his lips. Hansol slowed at the red light and you felt his heavy gaze as you lit the joint. You had to all but hold yourself down so you didn’t squirm under the sudden attention, inhaling and blowing the smoke toward the window. Meeting his eyes you placed the joint between his lips as the light turned green.

***

“We have no rooms that will accommodate you” the snobby hotel clerk sneers at you from behind the desk. The two of you had found a city six hours west of where you started this morning, and the hotel you decided to try evidently had standards, ones that your leggings and Hansol’s basketball shorts didn’t meet. You opened your mouth to argue, but Hansol beat you to it,

“Look,” he started, surprising you, “it’s our honeymoon,” you had to stop yourself from staring at him like he had grown a second head, “the hotel we had reserved, they double booked us, it doesn’t need to be your best, just a room.” The clerk sighed and began typing furiously clicking through his computer, you took the opportunity to glance at Hansol, questions evident on your face. He merely shrugged with a lopsided smirk painting his face.

“We had a last minute cancellation…” the clerk muttered reluctantly, once again taking in the state of your apparel, “Names please?”

“Vernon and, “ he looked at you expectantly, after no less than a solid 15 seconds of panic you mustered up,

“Kate”

“Vernon and Kate Chwe” Hansol affirmed.

“Well congratulations Mr. and Mrs. Chwe” the man behind the desk offered as he held out a pair of room keys and you had to ignore the way your stomach flips at the sound of that.

The elevator dings and opens its doors to you. Quietly, you both get inside and as the doors close, and not a second sooner you are turning to your friend,

“What the Hell, Hansol?” you whisper urgently, “why—how did you lie like that?”

“You don’t spend as much time as I do with Yoon Jeonghan and not learn anything,” he shrugs, “it got us a room, didn’t it Kate?”

As soon as the door opened to your hotel room you dropped your bag on the floor and rushed to the window. The view overlooking the city was surely better in the other more expensive rooms but this was good enough for you. Hansol leaned against the wall behind you and watched as you perched yourself in the window sill.

The sun was just starting to set and you were determined to watch it disappear behind the skyscrapers. Hansol folded his arms over his chest, acutely aware that the two of you had already been on this trip for almost a week. He tries not to let the reality of life after college, after the trip hit him square in the chest, not now, not when you were so intently watching the slow descent of the sun from the window in the hotel room he lied his way into. Any of his friends would tell you that this was out of character, in any other situation Hansol is almost brutally honest, but if they knew it was for you, they wouldn’t bat an eye.

Hansol genuinely lost track of time just watching you get lost in your world, before he knew it the stars were twinkling overhead and the sun was long gone.

“I think we should go out” you announced without turning away from the window, Hansol’s heart jumped into his throat,

“What?!” he sputtered, trying to process what you just said to him.

“There are clubs here I’m sure,” you turned to him, “we should go out tonight” at your clarification Hansol let out a breath he didn’t even know he was holding.

***

Clubbing wasn’t really Hansol’s scene, and you knew that, but you were hoping to help him break out of whatever anxiety fueled funk he had been in for almost the entire trip. You saw the spark in his eyes a bit back at the hotel when he scored a room. However, almost as soon as the two of you arrived at the club, he parked himself in a secluded corner near the bar and has been nursing a whiskey for the better part of an hour. Currently, you could feel his gaze boring into the back of your head as you were talking to someone on the dance floor.

“I’ve never seen you around here,” he puts a hand on your arm and leans into your ear so you could hear him over the music, “I frequent this spot, what brings you in?” you repressed a scoff, there’s no way this guy memorizes everyone coming to this club in this huge city.

“Oh” you back up slightly, “I’m just on a road trip and passing through” he followed you as you tried to step away from him, trying to stay in close proximity with you.

“Let me show you a good time then,” he put his hand back on your arm and the other on your hip. Unbeknownst to you, behind you Hansol had downed the rest of his drink. You felt a pair of arms snake around your waist and move you out of the man’s grasp. Looking up you saw Hansol, his jaw squarely set.

“Can I help you?” He nearly spat. You saw the other man’s eyes take in Hansol and then moved to rake over your body, “Speak up” Hansol glared.

“I was talking with her,” the man crossed his arms.

“And now” Hansol started turning you toward the exit, “you’re not” you melted into Hansol’s side and tried to just leave.

“Who are you anyway?” the man called, catching Hansol’s arm, “You didn’t even ask her if she wanted to leave with you.” Hansol’s eyes drifted down to where the man had ahold of him,

“I’m her husband,” he went to shake himself out of his grip but he was holding on tight, “I suggest you let go” the man’s hand dropped, “Good choice” and Hansol was sweeping you out of the building.

The cool air of the summer night bloomed in your lungs as you breathed more easily out on the street. Hansol has not let go of your waist, and you weren’t entirely sure if you wanted him to, after the alcohol and the interaction you had moments ago. “Are you okay?” Hansol asked, taking a step back from you, planting his hands on your hips, his eyes searching yours in a panic.

“I’m okay” you breathed, “but….thank you for stepping in when you did” He smiled at you, breathing a sigh of relief.

“Let’s go” he slipped his hand in yours and intertwined your fingers, so no one could question him again.

The walk home was…strange, to say the least. Hansol had never kept his hand in yours longer than it took to give it a reassuring squeeze in the several years the two of you have been friends. In addition to this, you never once felt like you wanted him to let go. You never questioned his assertion that he is your husband back at the club, that’s what he told the hotel, so might as well continue that, right?

In the elevator up to your room things only got stranger, Hansol wrapped his arms around your waist again, pressed the button for your floor, and unwrapped himself from you and stood at the opposite side of the small room, staring at you.

Entering your hotel room you watched Hansol close the door behind you. He took a deep breath and moved toward you, you stayed still, wondering what was about to happen. He cupped your cheek in his hand, setting a swarm of butterflies loose in your stomach.

“I think” he whispered, “if it’s okay with you, while we’re here, we should play pretend” his eyes searched yours again as his thumb moved to rest on your chin. You nodded, however added,

“Hansol…we, we’re friends…” your breath hitched as he applied pressure on your chin with his thumb,

“Ah” he watched your mouth open at his request, “but we’re Vernon and Kate here, we just got married, babe” the pet name rolled off his tongue so easily as he got impossibly closer to you and spit into your now open mouth, you almost recoiled as his action, before realizing he was right. What was there to lose at this point? You closed your mouth and swallowed without him having to ask, which earned you a groan, “God, what a good girl, I didn’t even have to ask…” and then his mouth was on yours, falling into rhythm as if this was something that happened all the time.

Your arms wrapped around his shoulders and your fingers toyed with the hair at the nape of his neck. His tongue swiped your bottom lip, requesting access that you swiftly granted. His tongue explored your mouth with a fervor that if you were less distracted would make you wonder how long he has waited for this moment. There was no time for thoughts like that, he was backing you toward the bed. He sat you down on the edge with your legs dangling off, and broke the kiss. Settling on the floor between your knees he began to help you remove your shoes, and then your pants, and he began to work towards your shirt before you cut him off with a whine. He looked up at you quizzically.

“Not fair,” you stated, “you’re still fully clothed.”

“Earn it” he chuckled, and reached between your legs to lay the pads of his fingers on your clothed cunt, “shouldn’t be too hard, considering you’re so wet for me already,” which earned him the deepest blush he has ever seen gracing your cheeks. He began slow ruminations on your clit over your underwear, your hips bucking involuntarily at the stimulation, “that’s right” he nearly growled. What you’ve learned about Hansol over the last several years is that he is a patient man, he doesn’t need to rush, but you really wish he would right about now. Another whine escaped your lips trying to egg him on.

Evidently, it worked because he began to peel your ruined panties away from your dripping heat, “God babe, you’re beautiful, all ready for me” he lined himself up and gathered up his saliva and spit into your already wet cunt. He used the mixture of wetness between your legs to ease two fingers inside of you, moaning at the sensation of being filled, your eyes screwed shut. The pad of his thumb found your clit and he began to circle the bundle of nerves meticulously. “Remember what you’re working for” he reminded you, picking up his pace. You felt the coil in your stomach begin to tighten as you heard his fingers working in your pussy.

“I’m…” you cut yourself off with a moan as Hansol curled his fingers inside you to inch you closer to your approaching high.

“Let go” was all you needed for the coil to snap and white hot pleasure overtook your senses. “That’s it, you did so well for me” you heard Hansol’s soothing voice as you were coming down. Your eyes fluttered open as he was standing up from between your legs and pulling his shirt over his head.

“Here,” you sat up and reached for his belt, “I can help” you added, unhooking the belt and pulling his pants and his boxers down. You watched as his cock sprung free, hard and leaking already. Pulling him closer by his hips you watched his face intently, a mix of lust and anticipation. You took him in your hand and he let out a hiss, “You need it that badly?” At your comment he took a handful of your hair and pulled it so you were looking up at him and he gave you a warning look. You nodded in understanding and gave his cock a few pumps before leaning down. You took the tip into your mouth and swirled your tongue around his slit, taking in the precum that had already mixed with your saliva.

“Let me” he thrusted experimentally. You hollowed out your cheeks and sunk your lips further down, in a way letting him know he could use your mouth to get off. He grunted and thrusted into your mouth at a bit of a rushed pace, it was obvious that he was wound up tight. “Good girl, letting me use her, fuck” tears pricked at the corners of your eyes but you were determined. Hansol’s thrusts became sloppy as the tears began to stream down your cheeks, using the hand that was still in your hair he pulled you off his dick, “you have another one in you” he stated as he lay you down on the bed.

He hovered over you and wiped your tears with his thumb, “you okay?” he asked quietly, you nodded, not being able to form words at the moment. “Good” he smiled down at you, you felt him tease his cock head through your folds. You flinched from the sensitivity. Slowly, he eased into you. Simultaneously, you both moaned at the sensation, which made you smile at each other, like this was just another normal night in your friendship, even though that was so far from the truth.

After letting you adjust to his size he began to thrust slowly in and out of you. “I won’t last long, you did too well…” he choked out, your pussy clenching around him at the continued praise. His thrusts again became erratic and you knew he was close. Somehow, you were impossibly close as well, chasing a high that snuck up on you. You felt every delicious drag of his cock on your walls before you felt Hansol pull out and his white ropes shot into your stomach as your high crashed into you.

Hansol pushed his sweat drenched hair off his forehead. The two of you stared at each other for a few fleeting moments, realizing the gravity of what just happened, before silently agreeing that you will figure all of that out later. He climbed out of the bed and hurried to the bathroom and returned moments later with a warm towel and a glass of water.

“Are you okay?” he asked again as he was gently wiping himself off of your stomach.

“Yes,” you assured him, “I am surprisingly calm about what just happened” he smiled up at you before leaning down to kiss your now clean stomach.

***

Hansol and yourself didn’t talk about that night for the next several days, but nothing went back to normal either. He was holding your hand, he was giving you kisses, and right now he had his hand on your thigh as you left that city behind. Hansol insisted you stay there for a few more days than you had originally planned, you had a sneaking suspicion as to why but you decided not to push it. You weren’t one to complain, especially when you were getting pleased nearly every night.

“Take me to see the ocean” you piped up suddenly.

“What?” Hansol laughed looking over at you quickly before returning his eyes to the road.

“Sounds like a good way to end this little adventure” you shrugged. You felt Hansol freeze up for a moment before recovering.

“Right” he muttered, “Let’s get you to the ocean,” he said, squeezing your thigh.

***

You watched out the window as the ocean came into view on your side, you had been to the ocean once in your life, but it seemed important to see it now for some reason. Seeing something so grand felt like a great way to begin your new life in the next few days, you were nervous, but so excited. You watched as Hansol parked the truck in a public beach access parking lot and turned to you.

“Ready?” he smiled

“Ready” you smiled back. You walked hand in hand over the sand and the sea breeze catching your hair. It was early evening by the time you had found your way here so it was cooling down as the sun was setting.

Hansol spread one of the blankets from the truck over the sand, close enough to see the waves but not close enough that it would get soaked from a rogue wave. You sat down and Hansol slotted himself behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist.

You don’t know how long you sat, in quiet contemplation, neither one of you wanting to break whatever spell settled over you two over the last week or so. “Hansol-” you started,

“Vernon” he tried to correct.

“No,” you said firmly, “Hansol, what are we doing?”

“Two more days,” he sighed, “Just…give me two more days, I swear you’ll get back in time” he rested his chin on your shoulder, waiting for your response.

“Two more days, and I get to call you Hansol”

“Deal”

***

You left the beach headed for home two days later, as promised. Hansol drove quietly away from whatever the last few weeks were between you, his hands were firmly on the wheel, he hadn’t touched you at all today. It’s as if with your kiss goodnight the illusion was broken and you were back to reality. You weren’t sure which was better for you, living like Hansol was your boyfriend or having him as your best friend again. Then again, you weren’t sure why you couldn’t have both honestly.

About an hour into your drive Hansol took the joint out from behind his ear and tried to pass it to you wordlessly.

“Oh, I can’t” you told him, “I start my job next week and they told me I need to pass a drug test before my first day” Hansol dropped the joint, pulled over, and flung open his door, “Hansol?! What the fuck are you doing?” You followed him into the woods on the side of the road, “Hansol!” you caught his arm and pulled him so he was facing you, there were tears in his eyes.

“God I am so stupid” he wiped his eyes furiously with the back of his hand.

“Hansol what’s going on” your voice softened at the sight of his tears, you wanted so desperately to wipe them away, but thought better of it due to the nature of the situation.

“Y/N” this is the first time he has used your real name, not a pet name or Kate, in several days, it almost felt foreign to your ears, “this is it! Your gone after this, you’ll be working and busy, I’ll have lost you and everyone I care about” he threw his head back, looking at the sky, “I have no plans, no job, and no friends,” he looks back down at you, “and you can’t even smoke my weed”

“Hansol…I-” you tried.

“No it’s true, everyone is gone, Hell, some of the guys have moved across the country, I’ll be lucky if I ever see Seungkwan again” Hansol was crying now. “And I know this is a great opportunity for him, and for you, I’m so proud of all of you, but what about me, what am I supposed to do, Y/N?” he pressed the heels of his hands into his eyes, you could tell he felt stupid about crying and feeling sorry for himself.

“Move in with me” you blurted out, without really thinking, but it felt like a logical thing to say. You watched as he pulled his hands away from his eyes,

“What?”

“You heard me,” you moved closer to him and rubbed his arms with your hands, “move in with me”

“Like…as friends or-” “No” you cut him off, “absolutely not as friends,” it was his turn to cut you off, he closed the short distance between you and pressed his lips firmly to yours.

#chwe hansol x reader #chwe hansol fluff #chwe hansol smut #chwe vernon x reader #chwe vernon smut #vernon x reader #seventeen smut #seventeen vernon #seventeen imagines #svt smut #svt imagines #hansol x reader #hansol vernon chwe #seventeen scenarios #svt x reader #svt fluff #svt angst #bennie’s works

204 notes · View notes

kirain · 3 days

Note

I don't get people who say Gale just whines about Mystra all the time. Like do they not realize WHY? Do they not realize there's a perfectly understandable reason for it!?!

Yeah, I don't get it either. Every character "whines" about someone. Astarion whines about Cazador, especially during the second and third act. Lae'zel whines about pleasing Vlaakith, especially during the Crèche mission. Hell, she'll even betray you if you fail her persuasion checks. Shadowheart whines about Shar and snaps at you if you criticize her goddesses of darkness. Then, if you prove she's being used, she falls into a deep depression and still whines about Shar. Wyll whines about Mizora and she's a constant presence in his life, to the point that she'll park her abusive ass directly in your camp just to torment him. If you romance him, she sees everything. She watches you 👀. He has no privacy. I think Karlach might be the only companion who doesn't constantly whine about someone, but she does complain about her engine a lot.

But these aren't criticisms. They're absolutely, 100% justified. Astarion has every right to whine. Lae'zel has every right to whine. They all have every right to whine. I just want to emphasise the hypocrisy when it comes to how players judge Gale. Every character has a dark past looming over them, our chatty wizard included. If you get mad at him, it's only fair to keep the same energy for all the other companions, because they're in the exact same situation. They're trapped. They're victims. They're suffering. Of course it's going to be a major talking point, especially when there's a person/goddesses/devil responsible for that pain.

Honestly, I think the only people who get annoyed when Gale talks about Mystra are would-be romancers who get turned off when he doesn't immediately throw himself at their Tav's feet. Have you seen the somewhat viral video where a streamer drools over him, but goes full jealous mode when she sees him conjuring the image of Mystra in his palm? It's funny, but she acted like they were already a couple ... but at that point in the game Gale didn't even know she was interested! I'm certainly no expert, but isn't that how relationships work? It's pretty hard to find someone who doesn't have an ex, and he only talks about Mystra in a positive light before you express interest. He's insecure and he feels lost without her, but if you romance him it makes him realise how messed up their "relationship" was in the first place. It's a healing process, not a competition. He never compares you to Mystra in any way other than to say that you're better, and that's only if you ask.

Gale is also arguably the most romantic character out of the bunch, so I don't know why people get so upset. Mystra, much like Shar, Cazador, Mizora, etc., is a constant negative in Gale's life and the reason he's dying. She could remove the orb with ease but she won't, so of course he's going to "whine" about her. He feels guilty at first, then he feels used and angry, and by the end you can either convince him to become her Chosen again (which is entirely on you, though you remain his priority) or you can convince him to reject Mystra and leave the crown in the sea. The orb remains lodged in his chest, because Mystra's too petty to remove it, but it becomes completely inert. Either way, he's happy and he devotes himself entirely to you, not Mystra.

#bg3 #baldur's gate 3 #gale dekarios #gale of waterdeep #bg3 mystra #mystra #astarion #lae'zel #shadowheart #wyll ravengard #karlach #cazador szarr #mizora #shar #minthara

210 notes · View notes

i-yap · 2 days

Note

Literally loving ur writing so far Bestie 🥺💙would I be able to req how the batboy would react to a fwb/situationship vibe with reader? Like they have feelings but reader is scared of commitment

Thank youuu! Im gonna be really honest, I don't think a lot of the batboys would be okay with a situationship sort of deal.. and I don't write romantic damian( at least not yet) .

Batboys x reader- Situationship headcanons

Dick grayson-

I can see a teammate or someone he works close with as a detective turns into a night of passion and now both of them cant go back to normal situation .

He says he is okay with it, and prolly keeps up that act for 4-5 months?

I think you would end the situationship. Dick is a really sought-after guy and one night he Is just upset with you about something. So when another girl flirts with him rather than his usual " I'm sorry there's someone else I'm into" line he flirts back. You see red

you either walk away angry/upset or pull him away. He follows you to an alley or a secluded area of the party.

"why are you even upset, you are the one who doesn't want us to be official?" "well that's not because I don't want you, that's because I'm scared of intimacy"

He would be really understanding once you explain your issues and fear of commitment. You guys come up with a better set of guidelines for your arrangement and he sticks to it.

if you want an open relationship, he is down. if you want to be exclusive but not yet in a relationship relationship he would be okay.

But dick does want to get married someday and have kids. So this arrangement wont last for long. he will try his hardest to help you overcome that fear of commitment but if you cant then its gonna end someday. And he makes that clear to you from the start. all cards are on the table always and communication is key and he makes sure no one gets hurt( or at least tries avoiding it as much as he can)

Jason todd

wont do it

maybe a bestfriend turned situationship scenario

you are his sanctuary , his home a safe place to come back to. and after everything he has been through he struggles with so many insecurities and he deserves a domestic life.

the moment he sees you with another guy, even if it just flirting, he is out the door. He already believes no one loves him and now you don't even want to commit to him? is he not enough?

he gets that you have issues and no one understands issues better than him. But he is in so much pain already that its best for the both of you to not get together at all.

even the fact that you from the very start didn't want to commit makes him get all in his head and even if you get ready to commit later on , he wont be able to forget that fact and will keep thinking you'll leave him or he isn't the one

he also reads a lot of classic literature and romance in books is what he wants. the concept of a situationship doesn't make sense to him and he just needs some good old domestic loving.

Tim drake

best at it

you guys are young, he is so busy. he is totally cool with a teenage dirtbagy relationship

lets meet under the bridge , get high and makeout type of shit,

Partners in crime / bestfriends that hookup

he loves it, its perfect for him

there are no expectations no responsibilities, you guys are just what the other needs . no stupid anniversaries and big fancy dinners

tim gives very "eat the rich" vibes so this situationship is another way for him to be a little rebellious .

Very very teenage dirtbag- going to grocery shops at 2am and sitting on the dirty floor trying all 20 types of slushies

spray painting the really big asshole companies buildings, going to huge rallies without having any idea what you are rallying for.

stealing the batmobile and then crashing it

the adrenaline makes you hot and bothered and it leads to more. and once its over you go to a shady Chinese place and tip 200 on a 40 dollar meal.

he gets you, you get him and you don't need labels to show your love to each other. and who needs someone else when you have everything you could want within each other? and then someday when you're ready and if you are ready, you can always make it official. its all up to you two , fuck the labels

166 notes · View notes

sjyfave · 16 hours

Note

Hey could you do enha's reaction to fem!reader being insecure about how her vagina looks

enha reaction to you being self-conscious!

HEESEUNG would laugh a bit, his smile dropping once he notices just how insecure you are. “i never knew there was a look you were going for.” he’d comment, the playfulness would be on purpose to lighten the mood. “if it helps you feel better, i’d probably get hard seeing it.” he comments, moving his hand up your inner thigh, tapping your leg lightly in demand as you sit on his bed. “but i’d love to see.” he’d softly comment, physically pushing your thighs apart to open your legs. he’d intently look between your legs as you lean back, nervous. he’d pull your skin taunt a bit to really look at it, pulling it open a little. “i personally think you look good.” he’d comment, his hand coming up to push your chest lightly so you lean back. he’d move around to get a better look, spreading your legs with his hands on your inner thighs. “really good.” he’d comment lightly before softly biting his bottom lip absentmindedly.

JAY would definitely have a lot of supportive words. to me, he’s the most verbal out of the four of them when it comes to comforting words. especially as an earth sign (taurus). he’d probably comfort you enough to push you to show him, his hands running up your thighs until you’d actually let him see. “i think it looks perfect.” he’d comment, noticing how actually fearful you are about it so he wouldn’t play around. “i’m also positive there are a hundred different ways your vagina could look.” he’d scientifically comment, getting down at eye level with your vagina. “no matter how it looked, i’d like it.” he’d comment, running his middle and index finger up between your folds to your clit—admiring. “it looks so pretty y/n, trust me”

JAKE couldn’t even understand what you really meant when you first said it. you’d have to explain it to him, and he’d still be kind of confused. “can you show me first?” he’d ask, and you’d almost roll your eyes at the question. “if i saw what you were working with, maybe i’d be able to help you feel better about it.” so, you’d sit back on his bed to lightly spread your legs enough for a peak. “fuck you’re so hot.” he’d comment before you’d move to get up, jakes hands rushing to keep your legs separate. “wait! please.. i..” he’d get down at eye level with your vagina, quickly getting an erection. “i think it looks really cute! that counts, right?” he’d ask, bitting his bottom lip. “i’m honestly hard just looking at you.” he’d confess, making you blush. “if you don’t like it, i’ll like it for you.”

SUNGHOON wouldn’t get it at first, smiling. “what do you mean?” “hows it suppose to look?”. but once you really push that you’re uncomfortable—hiding—he’d be very apologetic. “sorry, i don’t mean to mock how you feel.” you’d confirm it isn’t him but instead you’re inner thoughts. he’d push your hands away looking between your legs against your pleas. “i don’t know why you’re so insecure, it’s honestly really pretty.” he’d playfully comment. he’d probably thumb your clit a little bit while saying it. “i’m not sure what you think it should look like, but i personally love how it looks.” he’d comment, using his middle finger to play between your folds a bit. “but it’d probably look better wet.”

i’ve never done one of these before i just hope this is what u wanted 😭 PLZ BE NICE!

#𓍯 sjyfave asks!#enhypen hard hours #enhypen smut #enhypen hard thoughts #heeseung hard hours #heeseung hard thoughts #enhypen jay hard hours #enhypen jay smut #enhypen jake smut #jake sim smut #enha jake smut #sunghoon hard thoughts #sunghoon hard hours #enha smut #jongseong smut #jongseong hard hours #sim jaeyun smut #jaeyun smut

158 notes · View notes

kurokens · 2 days

Text

In The Night I Miss You | Satosugu

anime/manga: jujutsu kaisen

character: gojo satoru & geto suguru

words: 1.5k

pronouns: they/them

request: none

notes: sorry for the wait!!! but part 2 of In The Middle, my first satosugu piece, is finally here! a little bit more angsty this time and from satosugu's pov

not proof read

song rec: The Night I Miss You - Lee Changsub

genre: hurt comfort, fluff, slowburn, a little bit angsty, poly?

warnings: satosugu are in a loving relationship, misunderstanding, pinning, a lot of pinning on satosugu's end, reader is so oblivious, insecure and self conscious reader

Satoru and Suguru were quite the pair, always together since they can remember, as if fate created them for each other. Two pieces of a puzzle fitting perfectly together. They knew that, hell, everyone around them and their mother knew that. And yet, they both felt like something was missing, they spent years happily loving each others, and they never stopped, but they couldn't help but feel some kind of longing for something more.

At first it drove them crazy, how could they feel like that when they already had everything they ever dreamed of? They're both each others soulmate, and yet it's not enough, not anymore, not since they met you. You came and wrecked their perfect little world. You and your stupid smile, you and your stupid laugh, you and your stupid kindness, you and your stupid gentleness, just you and your stupid self. It was such a hard time for them to accept these feelings, especially with the growing guilt towards each others, clueless about the other similar torment. Until one day, the cat got out of the bag. "Say sugu..." The white-haired man started softly, a gentle hum coming back from his lover. "Are you satisfied? I mean, with us? Our couple?"

"Why? Yes, of course. Is something the matter? Have I done anything to make you think otherwise?" Suguru exhaled through a trembling breath.

"No, god no. It's just, god, how do I say this without sounding selfish. Have you ever felt like something was missing?" Satoru breathed out, closing his eyes in shame.

"You mean, like someone?" The black-haired man whispered shakily causin Gojo to spring up from his previous position, biwildered eyes meeting the ones he was ashamed to look at earlier.

"I didn't, I didn't say that, I mean not exactly, but, but maybe? Do you?" He murmured, a glint of hope in his orbs.

"Do you?" Suguru asked, just as hopeful.

"Yes, god, yes. I'm so sorry Sugu, I love you, I do, I promise. Like I've never loved anyone, but lately I've felt this way and I don't know why, and I didn't know how to tell you. Please tell me you do too. I can see it in your eyes, you do too right?" Satoru begged, his hands now clamped on the sheets below him.

"Yes, I do. God I was so scared to tell you, I'm so glad you feel it too. Oh, I'm so glad." Geto let out, his breathing calming down as well as his nerves. "You're thinking about someone in particular are you not?" He continued, reaching out to take Gojo's hands in his, easing down his stress.

"Yes..." He answered, tightening his grip around Geto's hands. "Do you?" Only receiving a nod along with the brightest smile he's ever seen his lover give him. "It's them, right?" Another nod came his way, just as he was pulled into a hug. "I'm so glad you feel the same. I was so scared. I thought I would lose you if I said anything, I don't want to lose you." He sobbed, finally letting out all the repressed feelings he's been having for the past couple of days.

Suguru stayed quiet, nuzzling his head into his lover's neck, grateful for the conversation, but also for the fact that they both felt the same. Of course the universe wouldn't betray them like that. They were soulmates, and it was destiny for both of them to fall for you, and maybe it was how it was always meant to be, not just them, but the three of you. And Suguru was more than content with this idea, he wished nothing more but to be able to share this overwhelming love with you as well. But he knew it would take time, it's not something they could act on just like that. They needed to proceed slowly, they didn't want to scare you, let alone lose you. Hell, losing you would shatter them, they could handle rejection just fine, but not having you in their life anymore just wasn't possible.

That's why Suguru had to physically stop Satoru from screwing this up. It was quite hard for the white-haired man child to refrain himself from acting on his desire to confess to you, and make you theirs. Since you lived with them, seeing you everyday and not being able to love you like he truly did, was the worst hardship he ever had to face. He wasn't used to not getting what he wanted, so having to wait for you to be theirs was proper torture. Don't get him wrong, it was also very hard for Suguru, but he knew they had to do this properly, and one of them had to be strong, because Satoru sure wasn't going to be. And because of that they would regularly have the same conversation in their room late at night, or early in the morning because it's when they were yearning for you the most. In the comfort of their bed.

"I dont know for how much longer I can do this Sugu..." Satoru sighed, burying his head in his lover's chest, muffling his next words. "They're so pretty, and so nice, and so caring, I love them so much. I would give anything to crush them between us right now."

"Me neither love, but there is nothing much we can do about it.They live with us." His black haired lover replied, laughing at his antics.

"I know, ugh I know, but it's getting so much harder everyday. Seeing them is becoming unbearable. I can't stand it anymore, we need to do something." He went on, on the verge of throwing a tantrum because of how much he yearned for you.

"Shh, I know, I feel the same. But we can't just drop this on them all of the sudden and expect it to go well." The oldest reasoned. "We will get there, we just need to take things slow Toru, we can't rush them into something like that."

And he was right, Satoru knew he was right, but it's been weeks and nothing changed. They tried being more affectionate towards you, complimenting you, being a little bit touchier and clingier without crossing any boundaries. Hell, they were looking at you so lovingly you could compare them to teenage boys going through their first ever crush. And yet, nothing changed, you were so clueless, it was driving them insane, but at the same time it was so endearing how oblivious you were to their adoration.

Everyone around you three noticed it, but you. It was quite amusing for your friends, but it was proper torture to them. And Satoru was growing reckless, he could'nt look at you in the eyes anymore, scared he will do something on impulse and regret it later because it could jeopardise your relationship, and your potential future together. Suguru wasn't much better to be fair, he could still look at you, but it was getting harder, and he couldn't bring himself to say anything to you that wasn't a heartfelt confession about their undying love for you, and his need to make you part of their life. So they decided to ton it down a bit, grow some distance between you, just the time for them to get themselves together, and to elaborate the perfect plan to confess to you properly without forcing you into anything. Yes, that was a good plan, or so they thought. Not once have they ever imagined this plan of action could backfire. Because why would it? It was the perfect plan!! Just until it wasn't.

After some time of putting distance between you, (literally a single day, Satoru couldn't more), the couple deciding to put their plan back into action but with a bit more hints being thrown into it. But, unfortunately for them, when they came back from work, the house was oddly silent, not a trace of you to be seen. "Sweetcheek?" Satoru called, walking towards your room, only to be met by complete silence. "Hey gorgeous, you in there?" He knocked, but once again silence was his only answer. So he opened the door, to see if maybe you were sleeping, but you weren't. Your bed was made, but something was off. Your room was clean but it felt like something was missing.

"Sugu, come here real quick." He urged, and Suguru footsteps were quickly heard. "Something isn't right."

They both stood at the entrance of your room, analysing everything, trying to find what was amiss, this odd feeling growing stronger and stronger. And then they spot it, a letter neatly placed on your desk, which read:

'The walls are thins here you know. Anyway don't worry I'll be out of your space soon. Sorry about the stuff I've left there, it's just for the time it takes for me to look for a new place and then I will give you back your much needed space. Thank you for letting me stay this long, and sorry for the trouble I've caused.'

The couple grew livid. Their worst fear became reality, and they didn't know how to fix it, but they knew they had to. And the sooner, the better.

#saturn's writing #satosugu x reader #satosugu x you #satosugu poly #jjk x reader #gojo x reader #geto x reader #jjk x you #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen x you #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru x you #geto suguru x reader #geto suguru x you #gojo satoru x geto suguru x reader

99 notes · View notes

sansaorgana · 1 day

Note

Oh my God!!

"You talked in your sleep... do you really love me?"

With Buck Cleven X reader, please?? Maybe reader is his best friend and sometimes talks in her sleep? So, best friends to lovers?? Please you'd cure my depression 😭😍

Love you & thank you 💕

hiii I'm so sorry you had to wait so long 😭 does anyone even still remember me omg 😫 thank you for your request! I didn't use this exact quote but the situation is the same and The Reader is a nurse here 😷

my requests are currently closed 🙅🏻‍♀️

Working as a nurse and befriending some of these boys, you mostly dreaded the day when one of them would come to you in a state that was doomed. To stare at your dying friend in pain, knowing you can’t do anything about it… That was keeping you awake at night. It was already difficult enough already to witness the boys you didn’t know at all die like this and not be able to help. But a vision of one of your friends in this situation was impossible to handle at times.

The one you worried about the most was Major Gale Cleven, the one everyone kept calling Buck. But you were the only person who still was calling him Gale. He was your friend from the moment he showed up. Handsome, charming but in a quiet way, kind-hearted and very responsible. You admired the way he was with his boys; like an older brother they could look up to. And not long time had passed until you realised you were actually in love with him.

Of course you would never admit that. But it made you smile when the boys admitted you were their favourite nurse, when they were treating you like the female equivalent of Gale Cleven at the base. Almost as if you were playing house with him with a bunch of pilots who were like your sons.

But loving a pilot was a dangerous business for the heart. Not that love could have been prevented. You had no control over that. But at least it was unrequited – in other circumstances you would cry your heart out into your pillow at night for loving someone who didn’t reciprocate his feelings. But this time it was for the better.

Yet, when you found him in the med bay after one of the missions, your heart skipped a beat. Your friend was talking to him softly, his face was in blood. You approached them immediately, ignoring other patients waiting for your care and attention.

“What’s going on? What’s wrong?” You asked, trying to hide how nervous you were.

“His plane got hit,” your friend explained. “He managed to come back and land safely with a concussion, can you imagine?” The admiration in her voice made you feel jealous and you hated this side of you. She had every right to admire him for this sort of achievement. “I have to clean the wounds on his face. Poor lad, they’re gonna leave scars.”

“I’ll do it,” you dismissed her and moved past her, nearly pushing her away. She was surprised at your reaction but she didn’t have time to think about it or comment because other patients needed her.

So, she left you alone with Gale. His beautiful eyes were hazy from the concussion and probably a state of shock his body was in. He wouldn’t be able to fly a plane with a concussion if not for the adrenaline in his blood system.

“Hi,” you greeted him softly when you started to clean the wounds on his face gently. They were not very deep but they caused lots of bleeding and your friend was right; some of them would leave scars. Not that you minded, you only hoped he wouldn’t grow insecure because of them. “You’ve gained some scars, brave fly boy,” you chuckled nervously but he only looked at you like he didn’t recognise you. “It’s okay. You’ll sleep it off,” you caressed his hair gently.

He was confused and in pain but yet, you hated yourself for kind of liking this version of Gale Cleven. Not only was he even more adorable than usual but also you could allow yourself the gestures you would never do if he was acting like himself.

When his face was clean and you washed some of his hair, too – the parts that got stuck together with blood, you laid him down gently and smiled softly at his handsome face. He reached his hand out as if he wanted you to hold it. An unusual thing to do, which made your heart flutter in your chest, but you tried to remember that he was not acting sane at the moment. Still, you gently took his hand and sat on the edge of the bed. You decided to be with him until he’d wake up. Even if it would be the whole rest of the day and a night.

“Other boys need you,” the doctor approached you with a furrowed brow.

“He needs me the most,” you looked up.

“Cleven had a slight concussion, he will be absolutely fine,” the doctor insisted.

You knew that he was right and you didn’t want to act suspicious, so you sighed and squeezed Gale’s hand before leaving his side to go back to work. However, you worked as fast as you could, not even talking to the boys you were taking care of, just focusing purely on your job. And when you were finished, you went back to Gale’s bed and sat on the edge to watch over him. He looked so peaceful when he slept.

His wounds still kept bleeding a little here and there so you continued to clean them once in a while. And in his sleep, he sometimes moved, so you were putting your hand on his forehead, trying to calm him down and make sure he didn’t have a fever. Bucky checked on him in the meantime.

“Thanks for taking care of him,” he winked at you and you could feel your cheeks heating up. Did he know…? Were you that obvious?

“It’s nothing. He always takes care of all of you boys. I can see that and they always tell me that. Even today, the guys from his fort were asking me to take extra care of Major Cleven,” I answered with all honesty.

“Yeah, they look up to him. What he did today was… incredible,” Bucky nodded. “When they landed, he didn’t even recognise me but a few minutes earlier he had been flying the goddamn plane in this state.”

“It was shock and adrenaline,” you explained. “He could have forgotten us but not how to survive and fly,” you added with a smile. “Or he’s a natural. Maybe he was born and already knew how to fly.”

“Believe me, he didn’t,” Bucky chuckled and shook his head. “I remember our early days… He didn’t.”

“Okay,” you giggled and squeezed Gale’s hand tighter. You imagined what he had to be like in the early days of his training. He had to be adorable; a bit scared but also full of hope and optimism, that boyish excitement. “Thanks for checking up on him. When he wakes up, I’ll tell him you came.”

“If he recognises us,” Bucky made a joke and walked out of the med bay but it left you anxious now. He was right. The doctor had said it was a slight concussion but… What if Gale would wake up and not recognise any of you?

Lost in thoughts, you didn’t realise he was having a dream again. You only reacted when he started to mumble some incoherent things.

“Shh, Gale, shh, it’s fine,” you whispered softly when you leaned in to see his face better and put both of your hands on his wounded cheeks, delicately, avoiding to cause him any further pain.

“...Her…” He mumbled, his words suddenly making sense. You furrowed your brow. “I love her.”

You swallowed thickly at those words. It was only a dream, right? It didn’t mean anything. He couldn’t be in love with someone else…?

You shook it off. What were you even thinking of? What did it matter? You were not together and you would never be.

But then, Gale mumbled your name. Yours, not anyone else’s. You had to blink a few times and catch your breath all over again. And when you thought it had all been a mistake, he mumbled it out again and and again and then…

“I love her,” he repeated.

However, he seemed to be in a great torment because of whatever the dream was about. So, with a heavy heart, you shook his shoulders a little, forcing him to come back to reality.

“Hi,” you greeted him softly as his eyes widened. “Welcome back, soldier. Do you know where you are?”

“Wh-what happened?” He sat up rapidly, his hands immediately going to his face as if he wanted to check if everything was in its place.

“What’s the last thing you remember?” You asked, adjusting yourself on the edge of his bed to be closer to him.

“We got hit… Oh my God… We got hit!” He panicked but you shushed him. Other boys were asleep and you didn’t want them to wake up or be alarmed by his attack.

“It’s fine, hey, Gale, it’s okay. Everyone from your fort is fine and you know why…?” You asked with a gentle smile. He shook his head. “Because you safely took them home and landed that goddamn plane even though you had concussion and didn’t know your own name,” you tried to sound casual but the pride in your voice was more than obvious.

“I… I did that?” He asked. “No way.”

“Yeah, you did,” you laughed. “And I cleaned your face, it was all bloody. You’re gonna have some scars,” you explained. “Want a mirror?”

“I don’t think so,” Gale winced as his fingertips traced the wounds. He hissed out of pain so you grabbed his wrists and took the hands away from his face.

“Don’t. They’re still fresh. But not so bad, I’ve seen worse,” you tried to cheer him up. “In fact, I think, you’re gonna look amazing,” you winked and he sighed. “You remember me, right?”

“What? What are you talking about? Of course I do,” he furrowed his brows as his eyes looked worried.

“Yeah, but after you landed, you didn’t. You didn’t even know who Bucky was. He was here, you know. Checking on you. And all the boys from your fort were so worried about you. You’re a real leader,” you squeezed his hands but he didn’t say anything to these things. Praises were making him blush and he did now as well, looking away.

“Well, thanks for taking care of me,” he finally looked at you again.

“No problem. You wanted me to stay, reaching your hands out like a little boy,” you chuckled nervously. Perhaps it was a bad idea to bring this up.

“Yeah, well, I had to feel lonely when I couldn’t recognise anyone. Even when I can, I often feel lonely,” he admitted with a shrug of his arms. “We’re so far away from home, from our families. The boys are like family, too, but every day can be their last. And men… Well, we don’t really…” He tried to look for words.

“Hold each other’s hands?” You asked and he nodded. You squeezed his hands again. “You talked in your sleep,” you brought that up, encouraged by his last confession.

“Oh dear God…” Gale rolled his eyes, visibly embarrassed. “What about?”

“You were talking about some girl that you love,” you teased him, grinning and winking playfully, pretending to be a teasing friend and hiding the nervousness. “She happens to have the same name as me or something.”

You expected him to be defensive or laugh at you. You would push his shoulder gently and tell him that you had been joking. But he didn’t react like that at all. In fact, he took his hands away as if your touch burnt him and he cleared his throat nervously.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered. “Can we… Can we pretend you’ve never heard that?”

Your heart skipped a beat at his words. You kept staring at him in disbelief and bit on your lower lip.

“How?” You asked, feeling a sudden outburst of bravery in you. If Gale could have flown a plane with a concussion, you could say what you wanted to say. “How am I supposed to pretend I have never heard that? When that’s… That’s all I ever wanted to hear.”

Gale looked up at you as if he had to check with his own eyes if you weren’t joking. But you were dead serious.

“So don’t pretend,” he finally spoke up and reached out for your hand again. His fingers were cold and shaky. You intertwined them with yours. “But I didn’t want to do anything until… Well, I planned to ask you to dance with me at the party after my 25th mission. But I never wanted to let you know before that because if I died…”

“If you died, I would never know,” you looked up to meet his gaze with tears pricking your eyes. “And you think that’s fair? You think it would make it easier for me? It would not.”

“I’m sorry,” Gale swallowed thickly. “Are you angry with me?”

“For that? No. For nearly dying today? Yes,” you nodded and wiped your tears away with your free hand.

“Let’s make a deal,” he proposed, looking at you with pain in his eyes. He hated to see you so sad and crying… Especially when it was caused by him. “Let’s not… Let’s not do anything about it until I’ve done my missions, alright?”

“Alright,” you nodded through the tears. “But… What if you don’t finish them…?”

“Well, then, we’re both gonna die without ever kissing each other,” he lowered his voice even though all the other nurses were out of the med bay and other patients were asleep. “But… That doesn’t sound right to me.”

“That doesn’t sound right to me either,” you admitted.

“Then come here,” he encouraged you to get closer. “Just one kiss.”

“A promise of many more, I hope. Not the last one,” you said in a shaky voice but he only nodded his head because that was a promise he couldn’t make.

If it depended on him, he would. He would swear on everything. But it depended on things much bigger than you or him. On things he couldn’t control nor prevent.

He cupped your face delicately, as if it were you with the wounds on your cheeks, and he joined your lips in a sweet kiss, even though it tasted salty from all your tears.

“Just don’t die,” you breathed out when the kiss ended. “Just don’t die and the rest I can fix and endure.”

MASTERLIST || BUCK MASTERLIST

#sansaorgana: Answered #lovely anons #*buck #lilysfiction #austin butler x reader #gale cleven x reader

95 notes · View notes

hwaslayer · 1 day

Text

favorite things | pmylm drabble (jyh)

⇢ favorite things - drabble one // ft. the pmylm couple

summary: yunho's been having a rough time adjusting to the 'real world' and gets upset when he can't have the person he needs the most right away.

words: 2.8k

warnings: cussing/mature language, jealousy/insecurities, yuyu is upset and doesn't really know how to control his feelings rn cause he is just a tired boy 😭, a small lil fight, the awkward silent treatment, yuyu and yeo talk thru his feelings for a bit, kissing/making out, sorry if i missed anything i quickly whipped the rest of this in bed lol

a/n: whipped this baby up because i just felt the need to and i missed my babies!! (+ this lil IG inspo hehe) more drabbles to come 🫶🏼 love you in slow motion update this weekend annnnd i’m gonna have to push back the fallen angel hwa fic cause im all over the place 🥹 but we’ll do better!! lol stay tuned!!

Yunho has entered the real world and he is exhausted. When his mom used to joke about living and working in this so-called real world, he used to think it was just a thing to keep him on his toes, shake him up a little bit.

Nope, that shit was all real.

And he hates it.

He hates it because it's the one thing that brings another fight to the table for your relationship. Ultimately, Yunho knows all he has to do is adjust and he'll be fine in the long run. Both of you will be fine in the long run.

But today, that feels like a stretch and he is short of patience. Unusually short of patience than usual. He knows you don't mean any harm but for some odd reason, today he feels like the world is going to swallow him alive and everything is triggering.

The first thing is the fact that he has to stay a bit later than usual to finish up a project he had been working on. He was hoping to rush home and spend some time with you before you were off to practice for the evening, spending 2-3 hours with your friends and the group.

That didn't happen.

So, when he gets home and you've already texted him saying you've left with a sad, crying face, he's bummed. He gets himself comfortable anyway, heating up a cup of ramen since he's not too hungry. Maybe he'll get some food with you when you're out— it's one of his favorite things to do.

Now, the second thing that makes him a little more irked is the fact that 2-3 hours go by and you haven't texted. He knows practice can run long, but it's also a little unusual for you to not keep him updated. You finally do a bit past 8pm with a quick:

you: hi baby, sorry! practice was a bit busy, i was caught up during breaks. i'll be home soon then i'll come over after i shower, okay? wait for me (: we should go on a food run! hehe

yunho: sounds good, love. i'll be here.

It closes to 9pm and Yunho isn't hungry anymore. The cup of ramen will do since there seems to be a dim chance of getting food with you, especially when you tell him you'll be over in a quick second but you’re still nowhere to be found. Yunho charges to the door anyway and is hoping to greet you when he swings the door open. Instead, he's greeted with you laughing and giggling with Hyunjin downstairs in the lot as he hands you a bag of to-go food.

Let's set the record straight— Yunho loves your friends. He knows he can trust them, and he knows they're all genuinely good people. He's always been happy you had a good group of people around you.

It's just today, he really, really missed you. After a long ass day. And he knows you [and Hyunjin] mean no harm in your actions, but he can't help but feel a tad bit insecure [and slightly jealous] that you aren't rushing over to see him after not being with him all day. He knows he can blame this on the fact that he's exhausted and a little short on patience. God knows he really did try to keep it cool and brush it off.

He couldn't help it.

Yunho shuts the door again, leaving it unlocked for whenever you feel ready to come upstairs and hang out with him. He sits on his computer chair, irritated, and throws on a game to distract himself momentarily. Maybe it'll help ease whatever he's feeling,

But, nope.

It doesn't.

Because when you walk in, you're still yelling out to Hyunjin and whoever before you shut the door, place the food on the counter and walk into his room. You throw your arms around him from behind and Yunho lets out a small, audible sigh. That was already alarming enough for you, but you still dip your head to the side and try to grab his attention.

"Hi." You place a quick, chaste quick to his cheek, but Yunho doesn't move.

"Hey."

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing." Is all he says plainly. "I was just waiting for you."

"I know, but Hyunjin stopped by to give us food—"

"I thought we were gonna grab food together?"

"Oh." You frown because it completely slipped your mind, or else, you would've left the food at your own apartment to save it for tomorrow instead. "Fuck, I'm sorry. I didn't think he was gonna swing by with food. We all left each other earlier without any plans of—"

"It's okay." He taps your arms as a signal for you to let go of him. "You should go eat."

"We can share, there's more than enough—"

"All good." It's petty of Yunho, he knows. For him, it's the fact that you told him you wanted to go on a food run after practice. Another small, but meaningful thing you two did often. He doesn't blame Hyunjin for anything at all, no. There was no way of preventing that, and who the fuck was he to make you reject food from a friend?

He just wished he could take you to get food. Watch you order your favorites and do your happy dance in his passenger's seat. It's another one of his favorite things.

"Yunho." You slowly step aside and sit on his bed, your appetite all of a sudden gone from how distant your boyfriend is being. "I'm really sorry, I didn't mean to make you upset."

"It's fine."

"Is it really? Because something feels off and I wanna know what I did so I can fix it."

"It's nothing, Y/N." You almost flinch at the way he calls you your name instead of his cute endearing nicknames. It throws you off guard so much that you resort to a flimsy, broken:

"Okay." It's barely above a whisper. You stand to head back out to the kitchen, quietly eating a bit of Hyunjin's extra to-go thai food before setting some aside in a tupperware for Yunho and placing it in the fridge. The rest of the night goes.. like that.

In silence. With weird tension.

You hate it.

You wish you could just fix whatever you did wrong, or that Yunho would tell you no matter how 'silly' it may sound. He's always been so good with communicating, even during small disagreements, you weren't sure why he was avoiding it this time around.

You quietly get ready for bed, brushing your teeth and flossing before changing out of your sweats and hoodie to Yunho's shirt. You pad into the room, slipping yourself deep under the sheets and pull up some vlogs on Youtube that you need to catch up on.

"Tired?" Yunho asks from his computer chair, still playing his game.

"Mhm." You look at him, hoping he'd come over to kiss you, cuddle you. Shut off the computer and lay next to you, show you any kind of affection. He doesn't budge, though. You feel your bottom lip trembling, your heart slowly cracking in various places. You have to take a breath to prevent yourself from crying, and Yunho can feel it. He can feel your gaze on him, he can tell you're seconds away from crying. So, Yunho stands and shuts off his computer. But, he starts to head out to the living room and you're on the verge of breaking down. His way of avoiding the issue and getting more upset was to shut down. Deflect.

This wasn't like Yunho at all so you knew something was wrong; something was that bothersome to him.

"Baby." You call for him softly, and he just looks at you. You can tell he's conflicted between keeping this up and dropping it entirely, but it doesn't seem to be enough. It's not enough for him to drop it because his expression doesn't change. He still seems cold, distant. Tired. Unlike the Yunho you're so, so used to seeing and having.

"I'm just tired. Go to sleep."

"Where are you going?"

"The living room."

"Let me come with you."

"Y/N. Please go to sleep. I told you nothing was wrong." You watch the way his jaw slightly ticks before brushing you off completely and leaving the room, shutting the door behind him. A loud sigh escapes his lips as he treads to the couch and plops onto it, leaning his head back onto the edge. He shuts his eyes, giving himself some time to sort through his feelings because what the fuck, Jeong Yunho?

He knows this is much needed, though. He needed to step away for a second to regroup. He doesn't want to unintentionally hurt you by saying or doing things that he doesn't mean. He's tired, and he's acting like a fucking baby because he just wanted you at so many points today— yet, the universe just didn't let him have you. That wasn't your fault.

None of this was your fault.

He needed to do better. Just because he was exhausted, didn't mean he had to act this way towards you.

"Yo." Yeosang walks through the door, dropping his duffle bag to the floor as he steps out of his shoes. "You good?" He furrows his brows at the sight of Yunho just resting his head back with his eyes shut close.

"Mhm."

"Where's Y/N?"

"In the room." Odd, Yeosang thinks. It's not like you two to be separated like this. It's pretty obvious Yunho is bothered by something and that you've probably gotten into a small fight over it. Yeosang isn't one to meddle much, especially when it's not his business to. But, he is concerned seeing his roommate like this. It's probably one of the rare times he ever sees Yunho upset.

"You sure everything's okay? I'm not really used to seeing you sitting out in the living room in silence like this." Yunho lets out a tiny chuckle that's barely audible, but he finally turns to Yeosang and purses his lips.

"I guess. Just exhausted lately."

"I bet. You've been working your ass off." Yeosang looks into the fridge before stepping away with a cold water bottle and heading towards Yunho. "Y/N put some food in there for you, by the way."

"Did she?"

"Yeah. It has a little sticky note on top." Of course you did, why wouldn’t you? You always thought about Yunho no matter what.

"Fuck."

"What?"'

"I've been such a dick to her tonight."

"What'd you do?"

"It's so stupid." Yunho begins to explain how his day has just been all over the place— from work, to staying late and not being able to see you before practice, no updates until 3+ hours after practice, looking forward to a food run that didn't end up happening because of Hyunjin. All Yeosang can do is laugh a bit and shake his head.

"Dude, we all have bad days. It's inevitable. You're still adjusting so don't be so hard on yourself. It's hard going from a routine you were so used to, especially with Y/N. Then, having to switch it up and play tetris with your time. It's not easy. But also, I'm sure Y/N has been feeling the same way. She's just doing what she can to support you first and foremost. She'd never hurt you intentionally, and I know she'd always choose you in the end." Yunho's head drops as he leans onto his knees and sighs again.

"Fuck, you're right. I don't know why today was so difficult. I guess it all piled on for me and I didn't know how to sort through it."

"All good. Shit happens." Yeosang shrugs. "Anyway. I'm gonna head to bed. You should probably do the same. I know she's probably waiting for you."

"Thanks." Yeo gives him a little dap before he's off to get comfy and end his day. Yunho stays on the couch for a few more minutes before he brushes his teeth and washes up for bed. He stands in the bathroom for a few more seconds before gaining the courage to finally talk to you about everything that's been going on today. When he walks in, you're still bundled under the sheets, but your phone is against the wall and a video is playing. He can hear you sniffling through the video though, and he knows you've been crying.

God dammit, Yunho.

"Baby?" You hear Yunho softly call your name as he slips into bed and wraps his arms around you.

"Mhm?" You respond, still facing away from him.

"Can we talk?" You sigh and exit the video, locking your phone before turning towards Yunho and setting your phone onto the table.

"Don't force yourself if you aren't ready to."

"I am, and I'm sorry." He looks at you with those puppy dog eyes and it instantly feels like you have your loving, incredibly sweet and attentive boyfriend back.

"What happened?"

"I don't really know. To be honest, I don't have that great of an explanation. I was just tired and I was really looking forward to seeing you before practice. I couldn't see you then because of work, so I was even more excited to see you after practice and to go on our run together. But, you came later and the whole thing with Hyunjin—" He pauses and shakes his head. "It was so stupid and childish of me. I didn't need to act that way, and I'm so sorry I was such a dick to you over that." You cup his cheek and caress the surface with your thumb.

"You should've just told me, babe."

"It's so dumb, though?" He furrows his brows, mainly at himself.

"Nothing is dumb. Whatever hurts you, hurts me. We're in this together, remember? We're on the same team. I just need you to communicate and be honest, like you always tell me. Okay? I'll do anything to fix it and make it better. I'm your safe space like you are mine."

"I know." He leans into your touch before placing a soft kiss to your palm. "I'll do better."

"We have our bad days and that's okay. It won't make me love you any less. Tell me if you need space or if you need anything from me. I want you to be happy and comfortable."

"I know."

"Okay. And I'm sorry about the food run. I promise I'll keep my end of it next time."

"Wasn't your fault, baby. Nothing could have prevented that." You give him a tiny, toothless smile before kissing the tip of his nose.

"Are we okay?" He nods.

"I'm so sorry. I didn’t mean to make you feel that way.” He repeats before leaning in to peck you on the lips. He holds the kiss before parting and looking you in the eye, brushing the hair away from your face. He dips in for another kiss— this time, it's deeper. More passionate. His hand comes down to the small of your back as he presses against you, slipping his tongue in to fight for dominance against yours. The kiss is so full of love and neediness, but there's no push or pressure to make anything out of it.

So, Yunho continues to kiss you. Pushing up against you ever so slightly while parting from your lips to leave a trail across your jaw.

Your chin.

Your neck.

Back up to your lips.

He loves the way you softly sigh in content, listening to him repeatedly whisper 'I love you' against your lips. Into your neck. Across your jaw. He loves the way you gently bite onto his bottom lip as a way of asking for more. He loves the way your fingers tug on the ends of his hair, the way you press your lips against his cheek, forehead, nose. The way you caress his cheeks and never let him go.

It's amongst the many on his list of favorite things.

He continues to coo you and praise you in between kisses throughout the night, smiling while hearing your giggles and smothering you with more kisses until you find yourself getting sleepy. He holds you close and sings a soft lullaby, playing with your hair as you drift off to sleep with the cutest smile on your face. He can’t help but admire you, fighting the exhaustion that’s been hitting him all week for a little longer. He fights it until he can’t anymore but fuck it, it’s all worth it.

Because sitting at the very top of his favorites list is you.

⇢ permanent taglist: @asjkdk @bintificreads @interweab @svintsandghosts @cheolliehugs

#yunho fanfic #yunho series #jeong yunho series #jeong yunho fanfic #ateez series #ateez x reader #ateez #yunho #jeong yunho #yunho x reader #jeong yunho x reader #ateez imagines #kpop imagines #yunho fluff #jeong yunho fluff #hwaslayer: project make you love me

110 notes · View notes

luvknow · 2 days

Text

sanguine satellite | lee minho

Summary: The last time you saw Minho was five years ago when you rejected him to live out the rest of your twenties in the city. The next time you see him is on your birthday with another woman in his arms, and it sparked everything that was good, bad, and ugly. Now, after years of not being in each other’s lives, Minho tries to repair the friendship he broke while you fight your changing feelings. As you struggle navigating your friendship with him, you struggle more to navigate being single in this next stage of your life. Characters: Lee Minho x fem!Reader, feat. other idols Genre: friends-to-strangers-to-lovers, romance, angst, emotional hurt with comfort, happy ending, slice of life Additional warnings: cheating, alcohol consumption, food, aged up a bit and in turn age insecurity, a lot of mentions of a best friend with another idol WC: 18.1k

Today was a pivotal day in the office. Quarter two earnings were released to the public and other divisions of the company and, well, let’s just say with the increasing rise in inflation and the impending recession that everyone refuses to acknowledge, no one wants to buy anything. As a result, the earnings reported negative and stocks dipped, morale was low, and to top it off, it was only Monday.

In a way, this was a metaphor for your life; a tumbleweed of all things that could go wrong did go wrong and formed into an amalgamation of nothing to show for. Some people found value in the mundane, but this was supposed to be the peak of your career, your magnum opus, before progress plateaued and you couldn’t stand the idea of not feeling enriched. To wake up, leave, work, and go home was the reason you wanted to leave your home in the first place for something richer in the heart of the city. But you felt defeated after clocking out at 8:30 PM and slumped on the seat in an empty train cart.

The view of the lively apartment high rises and the warm light of slow brick-and-mortars made the late night train rides worth the twenty minutes. Work wasn’t always this draining, but after climbing the corporate ladder, more money meant more responsibilities and it quickly drained the light from your eyes as it did with many of your peers and friends. Youth was fleeting and today you felt like Ponce de Leon searching for the fountain to no avail, but at least the train would take you as close to it as it possibly could.

After packing up your life from home five years ago to move with your friends, the only plans twenty-something-year-olds ever had in place were reservations at 9:00 PM because you called the hottest spot the day-of and drinks at the bar next door after clocking out at 5:00 PM. You were young, excited, and hungry for life, barely sober most days and experiencing what it meant to be young; but what must be given, something must also be taken. Now, rent was rising, salary increases were few and far in between, and instead of deciding what martini you should be ordering, you were stuck wondering if being a worker bee individual contributor was worth the lull schedule or if taking the path to management and telling whiny subordinates what to do was worth the salary bump.

You and your friends once joked that stuff like this was what people in their thirties worry about. Today is your thirtieth birthday.

You didn’t have time for dinner and once again thanked the real estate Gods who put a restaurant so greasy at the corner of your block that you practically slid on a snail trail to the front door of your loft. So, here you were; eating under-salted french fries, chugging a crispy diet cola, with oil stains on your white button-up, ready to spend the rest of your birthday and probably the rest of your life alone on your overpriced and uncomfortable couch watching the latest drama you’d sob your eyes out to. All you needed now was a pet as your companion and you’d be the whole single-in-your-thirties package. Maybe you’d use that as leverage in your dating apps: looking for a partner, a pet, or both.

After fumbling with the keys, you sighed into your dark, cavernous home and dropped your bag at the door. When you turned on the lights, you saw the ghost of your soul leave your mouth in a loud gasp.

“Surprise!!”

You were greeted with streamers, glitter, balloons, and your closest friends wearing little party hats with their beautiful smiles. You never doubted they remembered, and most wished you happy birthday at midnight, but you should have sensed something was wrong when Chaeryoung asked for your door passcode because she ‘forgot her chapstick on your coffee table.’

She was the first to tackle you in a tight hug. “Happy birthday, mi amor!”

“Let the woman take her shoes off first, damn,” Jisung scolded.

“Wow, there’s certainly a lot of you,” you giggled after prying her off. “You guys shouldn’t have. Really! It’s Monday.”

“All the more to celebrate something worthwhile,” Chan grinned, handing you a glass of wine. “Welcome to the club.”

“Ugh, thanks.” Chaeryoung yanked away the oily bag of fries while you were distracted with the happy juice. “Hey, I’m hungry!”

“Don’t fret! We are having a dinner party because that’s what thirty-year-olds do.”

“Except we ate already because we thought you were coming home well before 9:00 PM,” Hyunjin grinned sheepishly.

“No, yeah, I love when my friends watch me stuff my face.”

The dining table was decorated with burgundy candle sticks, red roses, and black bows. It was definitely a step-up from your twenty-first bubblegum pink and pastel confetti birthday, but this almost seemed… meek? Romantic, sure, but a little dark for a birthday. As Chaeryoung scrambled to fill your plate with take-out and prepare the cake, everyone took their place back at the table. The lights dimmed and out came a jet black cake with a toy knife and red frosting that read, ‘Happy Deathday to Your 20s!’

“A bit dark, but accurate,” you mused.

“Make a wish-!” A knock came at the door. “Shit.”

Everyone looked at each other awkwardly. Chaeryoung, Chan, Hyunjin, Jisung, and their partners were present and those were the only people you regularly hung out with. Who could be left?

“Are people still coming?” you asked.

The boys collectively shot a look at a wide-eyed and frozen Chaeryoung, none of them willing to break the news or catch a stray. “Um…”

“What did you do?” you accused. “You didn’t invite that one guy I told you about last month, did you?”

“No, but I wish I had.” Another knock. “Coming!”

“It’s not a coworker, is it?”

“Worse,” Jisung mumbled. “For you, at least.”

“Minho!” Chaeryoung exclaimed happily. “You’re just in time!”

“What -” you hissed at the boys, “- the hell?!”

They all held their hands up in defense. Minho passed the threshold and your twenties flashed before your eyes. The once blondish short and styled middle part now hung loose in soft chocolate strands; eyes that once held the universe were dark and doe-like; and arms that once moved freely in his sleeves now tightened around them. He was a completely different man who you hadn’t seen in five years and here he was at a pivotal moment of your life, about to celebrate you and the life you’ve lived without him for the better half of the last decade. It took all your might to lift your sore legs to walk over to greet your guest and restrain from strangling your best friend. He wore clothes appropriate for a casual dinner party that didn’t spill into the blues of corporate-wear, clearly aware of this occasion, and a small gift bag. His appearance was intentional, not upon happenstance, which made this whole ordeal a lot weirder.

Following him in, hand-in-hand, was a woman. A stranger. Two strangers in your home.

He pulled away from Chaeryoung’s death grip and you locked eyes. It’s awkward, to put it politely; to put it rudely, it was horrifying. Your nervous system certainly felt nervous, firing fight-or-flight responses the way he drank you in like the first sip of a bitter negroni. How someone could evolve and change to the point of being unrecognizable should be studied by Darwin.

He’s the first to break with a small smile to ease the tension. “Hi.”

“Hi,” you breathed.

“Happy birthday, _____.”

The bag is small and neatly wrapped with care in your favorite colors. The woman behind him smiled sweetly. “Thank you. You really shouldn’t have. And thank you…?”

“Oh, right. This is Karina, my girlfriend of two years.”

“It’s nice to finally meet you,” she said. “I’ve heard a lot about you. And happy birthday!”

You brain buffered when she bowed. How awkward, because you haven’t heard anything about her other than her existence. You never thought he’d have someone so beautiful. Minho blocked you on social media a long time ago, so you wouldn’t have recognized her. Chaeryoung had to kick you back to life. “Ah, it’s nice to meet you, too! Welcome to my home.”

“There’s wax on the cake!” Jisung warned.

“Oh, hurry in! _____ was about to make a wish!” Chaeryoung pushed the three of you to the dining area.

There’s a bitter taste on your tongue watching him dap up the boys and watching her hug them so warmly. You never faulted them for being neutral. They were just as much as his friends as they were yours but having him here created a thick glass wall on your side of the table, like he was icing you out in your own home; that you paid with your own hard-earned money, mind you! This was as close to a defense mechanism you could build.

Nine people were watching you, all of whom were paired with another in the room except Chaeryoung, in your home. There’s a heavy shroud of dread that’s draped over your makeshift invisible box you struggled to keep upright. This was supposed to feel like a celebration of you, but it quickly turned rotten when you realized you were the only single person on your own side of the table, being made a spectacle as the couples moved closer and watched more intently. It was like they were watching a ghost of singles-past, feeling more appreciative of the life they procured together as you watched their hold on each other tighten ever so slightly.

“Make a wish,” Jisung sang.

You stared blankly at the three sparkling candles. What was there to wish for? You had a good career, a warm home, food on the table, and loved ones who kept you up on your feet. You supposed a better work-life balance would be feasible, but that was something within reach and in your control. To wish is to pray and to pray is to beg, and you weren’t one to beg for anything except for the pickles Chaeryoung picked out of her sandwiches. What was something that even you couldn’t control, something you had to ask some spirit dwelling in the ether for?

A flash of Minho’s eyes boring into yours made your face hot. Maybe you’d just let this wish go to waste instead.

You blew out the candles and applause erupted with Chan eager to cut into the cake. It was your favorite flavor from your favorite local baker whom you trusted every birthday and holiday to deliver the finest treats. At least this part of your birthday was perfect.

“So, what does thirty feel like?” Hyunjin asked. “Do you want the number of the senior home down the street from me?”

“Ha ha,” you drawled. “Aren’t you next, Hwang?”

“Actually, Minho’s next – ow!”

Chaeryong didn’t hide how she elbowed his ribs. She then gave a wide smile and her fingers danced. “Do you feel more mature?”

“As mature as a dry-age steak.”

“Well, you pair well with red wine, at least.” Chan raised his glass. “Here’s to you and to all of us, our priceless friendship!”

Most of us, you wanted to correct, but decided against being uncouth. “Cheers!”

When you were all in the younger halves of the twenties, conversations were about memes, pop culture, and the new hottest bar that just opened. Now, as you were ranting about quarter one earnings and the Windows 11 update, the others doubled down on the corporate jargon. Even Karina, who revealed she was a consultant in tech, participated in the conversations. Minho was the only one who remained quiet, but he was simply enjoying the company, leaning back in the chair with his arm around his woman. For someone who had never visited or even wished well on past birthdays, he was making himself quite at home.

Your birthday dinner lasted long enough to finish off three bottles of wine between everyone and for all the food to disappear, making clean-up much easier. As everyone scrambled around your home clouded in buzzed-up nonsense, Jisung was the one to tour your apartment with Minho and Karina, telling the tale of every picture you hung on a wall or framed on a credenza.

“This was when we went to London one summer after my graduation,” he said. “I’m the youngest, so I was the last one and we decided to make it a big celebration. I think this was the day Minho and _____ got lost and almost hopped on a train to Edinburgh by accident. This one was from Chaeryoung’s twenty-fourth birthday. I think Minho took this picture, actually.”

“Where are you in these pictures, Minho?” Karina wondered innocently.

There’s a breath of silence in the loft aside from you who didn’t pay any mind to his girlfriend’s ignorance. Not like you expect your fallout to be a topic of conversation over a candle-lit dinner date, anyway. You also didn’t expect that look on Minho’s face when he realized that to be true.

“He’s usually the one behind the camera!” Jisung answered, not exactly lying. “You’ve seen his Instagram and how he composes his cat pictures.”

Minho didn’t try to correct him, and they quickly moved on.

As it was the first day of the working week, Chan, Hyunjin, Jisung, and their partners were the first to leave. For whatever reason, Minho and Karina decided to stay back. Karina’s motive was unclear; either she was really bad at reading the room or the effort to be friends was genuine, but even when Minho asked if she wanted to leave with everyone, she decided against it.

“Let me help you take the garbage out,” she offered Chaeryoung.

“I can do it,” you and Minho said in unison.

“Nonsense! It’s your birthday and this one had a little too much to drink before coming here and when we got here.”

Chaeryoung gave you a sympathetic look as they carried several bags out to the ground floor. What a convenient day for the chute to be broken! They’d take the five-to-ten minutes of traveling to the ground floor out to the back where the bins were.

And then there were two, standing on opposite sides of the kitchen island, unable to look each other in the eyes after five years of abandonment.

“Hi,” he greeted again, lips flat-lined and unsure of how to move this conversation forward.

You beat around the bush. “What are you doing here?”

His tongue poked his cheek. “I ran into Chaeryoung last weekend at the bar I work at and asked what she was doing for your birthday.”

“Why would you ask that?” you asked coldly.

“I… just knew she'd be doing something for you. Maybe she took it as me asking to get invited, but that wasn’t my intention. I think she panicked, invited me anyway, and here I am.”

“You could’ve said no.”

“I could’ve,” he agreed, and there’s a mischievous twinkle in his eyes that asked, ‘but why would I?’

You looked away. “Isn’t this a far drive for you?”

“I live here now. Well, not here; on the other side, closer to downtown and near that bar.”

“Oh. How long have you been a city dweller?”

“About two years now.”

That lined up with his relationship status. It was a fact that it was easier to find partners in the metropolitan, yet somehow you were the only one to remain alone after being one of the first to move here. How was it that Minho managed that in under a month? And if he’s been here for two years, how have you not realized that?

You swallowed the rest of the wine in your glass. “How do you like it?”

“I love it.” He ran a hand through his tired head of hair, creating a split down the middle. The redness on his face had spread from his nose to his cheeks, as it always did when alcohol invaded his bloodstream. “I see why you wanted to move here.”

He, too, must have seen how time was of the essence, and with what little time you have in your young lives, the highest quality of life would be to live where your peers were thriving. If only he understood this years ago.

You nodded sourly, feeling the loneliness resurface after having to repress it for so long. “I’m happy for you.”

“Your mother once told us, ‘mean what you say and say what you mean.’ You don’t have to lie.”

“Don’t tell me what my mother says.”

Tension as thick as jell-o separated you from him. There’s a brief stare down after your threat, or what sounded like a threat, and you swear there’s hurt behind those big eyes of his, but he wouldn’t be the victim here; not when he was the one who left your life and blocked you out of his. He didn’t have the right to be offended by your unwelcoming attitude when he was never welcome to begin with. On your birthday, at that.

Chaeryoung saved the evening and rushed back inside, afraid of the damage you’d tell her later.

“Ready?” Karina asked, squeezing Minho’s bicep.

“Yeah,” he mumbled, being the first to break contact. You didn’t help him see his way out, but he said over his shoulder once more, “Happy birthday, _____.”

“Thank you for coming,” you called out sharply.

“It was nice meeting you!” Karina said cheerfully.

“You, too.”

Chaeryoung, the kind woman and hostess as she is, hugged them both and hastened to lock the door. She rushed back, clinging to you and holding your arms inside, likely afraid that you’d break something or chug the rest of the fourth bottle.

“I’m so~o sorry!”

“He told me how it happened. Tell me why I’m not surprised?”

“It was at the bar near your work that I told you about. You didn’t come because you had some reports to submit before midnight. And who do I see behind the bar? Minho, of all people! He was running that shit like the navy! It was hard to talk long over the music, but we said our hellos and he quickly brought up the fact you were turning thirty and asked what I was doing because he knows how much I love you and I’m the bestest friend ever – Anyway, I told him about the surprise, and he looked so damn sad! Jesus Christ, so you know me, an empath, I had to at least offer him an invite. I didn’t think he’d take it, nor did I think he’d ask to bring a plus one, like, yesterday!”

In the midst of her ramblings, you squirmed free from her grip and pulled the poor pouty girl into a tight hug. “I will not let him ruin what you’ve done for me. I love you and appreciate you.”

“It was so hard!” she whined. “The boys are so unreliable! I ask them to buy something for decorations, they don’t answer, and when I ask a few days later they’re like, ‘I got it a while ago,’ and I’m like, ‘why didn’t you say something?!’ and they’re like, ‘I didn’t think I’d need to as long as I brought it the day-of.’ Can you believe that?!”

“After over ten years of friendship, yes, yes I can.”

After cleaning up the remaining crumbs and dishes, Chaeryoung found the gift that Minho and Karina left on one of the chairs. “Did you open it?”

“No. What if it’s a bomb? Can you do it?”

She tossed out the tissue paper and peered inside fearlessly. “Oh!”

“What is it?”

“A gift card and a perfume bottle; a pricey one. Ooh, it smells good!”

The gift card was to a new bar that was opening on the same block as your office. Your boss was excited to finally have a happy hour location so close that you haven’t gone a day without hearing about it since its announcement. The name on the card said ‘DAHLIA’ and the amount it held was five hundred dollars.

“Huh,” Chaeryoung mused, “isn’t this address very close to where you work? And you like dahlias. Scary coincidence.”

“Do you think he’s stalking me?”

“Maybe it’s Karina.”

The perfume was in a sleek clear bottle with a white face and gold cap. It smelled of marshmallows, orange blossoms, and neroli. It would be the most expensive thing you’d own, cosmetics wise.

“They open on Friday,” she said giddily. “We should go!”

The projected menu on their social media did look really good… and they had variations of your favorite drink and ones you’ve never heard of.

“Think of it as a ‘celebration’ to the start of a new quarter! Since it’ll be slower now, right?”

“Yeah,” you nodded, accepting that poor-quality reasoning for a twenty dollar cocktail. “Ok, let’s go!”

Your best friend squealed happily and dug through your closet, plucking out the shortest skirt in your wardrobe.

On Thursday, Chaeryoung canceled on you to go on a third date with the guy she’s been seriously interested in. She was hoping to finally become an exclusive dating couple; not exactly boyfriend-and-girlfriend, but they’re not allowed to see other people since they’re exclusive, so it’s a label-without-the-label situation that you struggled too hard to grasp. If the majority of your peers thought that way about dating, maybe it was a good thing you remained single.

When you exited your office’s high-rise that day, on your way to the train, you passed by an alley in between the Italian place and the coffee shop you and your co-workers frequented. There was an inconspicuous red ‘OPEN’ light at the end above a black door that caught your attention. In a small serif font, the letters ‘DAHLIA’ was stamped on the door. Friday was supposed to be the official opening day according to their social media pages, but there was no mistake it was open as indicated by the bouncer standing guard.

You did have the gift card in your wallet, and you were craving that crispy green tea highball they had in one of their posts. It was only 6:00 PM, maybe they’d have some happy hour deals going on and you could report back to Chaeryoung with your findings.

You walked up to the doorman. “Hi, are you open –”

“I.D.”

Well, that answers that. He allowed you to pass into the low-lit glowing bar. It wasn’t busy like a Friday evening, but almost all of the tufted couches and chairs were filled, leaving a semi-vacant bar up for grabs. The aura of the bar is what one might describe as ‘vibey and chill’, as the low hum of the bass from the hip-hop song in the background vibrated your heart. This was as soft as a soft-opening could get.

On the menu, there was a special on the drink you were looking forward to and a snack pairing: rice paper and seaweed chips with a salt and togarashi seasoning. You knew all those words separately but couldn’t comprehend them together.

“I.D., please,” the bartender asked.

You fumbled for your wallet and mumbled, “Why bother carding at the door if you’re just –”

You dropped your wallet when you saw Minho at the other side of the bar in a white button-down that was buttoned barely half-way. His lips curled teasingly.

“Hi.”

“Hi,” you gasped, popping your head up after picking up your wallet. “What are you doing here?”

“Is that the only way you’ll greet me from now on?”

You felt your face burn even before any alcohol entered your system. “Chaeryoung mentioned you worked at the other bar nearby.”

“I own that one, too. This one I just opened.”

“Oh, well, that makes more sense. Wait, ‘own’?” He nodded sheepishly. “But that bar has been there forever. I thought that old guy owned it?”

“He was looking to retire, so I jumped the gun and bought it. Kept it mostly the same, added some things I thought would pick up a trend, and it did so well that I was able to open ‘DAHLIA’.”

“That’s incredible,” you congratulated. “I guess I shouldn’t feel so bad that the gift card is so expensive.”

He smiled, but it didn’t translate to his eyes. “Do you work nearby?”

“At the tall building down the street.”

He’s just as taken back as you are. Maybe he wasn’t stalking you. “Crazy coincidence. But it’s late already. Long day?”

You sighed. “Most days are this long.”

“Yikes. Can I get you a drink?”

“The green tea highball looks good.”

“Coming right up.”

Minho rolled up his sleeves to his elbows and did his witchcraft. In a highball glass, a ludicrously elongated ice cube was placed. Then, two shots of Japanese whiskey from the mid-shelf (never mind the overpour), an ounce of cold brew jasmine green tea, and what little space was left was topped with club soda. Using a long bar spoon, Minho mixed its contents and offered it to you with a stainless steel straw.

You hummed happily. “Whoa.”

“I agree.”

“Where was this on my twenty-first?”

“I dare you to Google the whiskey I used and see if you think we could have afforded that at twenty-one.”

“I see your point.”

There’s a long pause of waiting for the other to say what they mean and to mean what they say. You thought about how coldly you displayed yourself to Minho and it ate up your thoughts the whole week. Even when he was the one who wanted you out of his life, he was the one to find you and it seemed he was here to stay, to be next to where you worked, and to be a part of your everyday life as you’d think about him every time you passed this alley between the office and the train. Was this a gift or a curse?

The wound was still fresh, but he was not the only one to blame.

You cleared your throat. “Listen, I –”

“I think –”

You both paused again. After all these years, your wavelengths were still in sync.

“Go ahead,” you offered.

“I think…” …We shouldn’t talk when we see each other? I shouldn’t have given you a gift? We should unpack the trauma we gave each other over coffee some time? “You should try the snack pairing.”

Possibly the best words to leave his lips. “Please.”

“One sec,” he said before running to the kitchen.

Your palms were sweaty, but if anyone asked, you’d feign it was from the condensation on the glass. Your first real conversation with Minho in five years was more stressful than presenting to upper management. Any courage of apologizing had fizzled and the fear of being vulnerable was chilling. You hoped the rest of the drink would give you that push.

Minho came back slightly breathless with a bowl of curly seaweed and rice chips with red seasoning. He stared at the glass that was almost full just a second ago.

“Would you like another one?”

Your vision was already swirly. “No, thank you. But these look delicious.”

The crunch from the fried rice paper was loud enough to make some heads turn. It was salty and the seaweed flavor shined through. The punch from the togarashi made you wish you had taken up the offer on another drink.

You let out another happy hum, and your sinuses cleared. “Wasabi!”

“Really sobers you up, huh?”

“I can smell colors.”

He let out a genuine laugh and you got a glance of his little bunny teeth. You wondered if he’d still have them when he was sixty.

The shy bartender fiddled with the kitchen towel. “You were going to say something?”

“Right. I’m –”

“Excuse me!” a customer approached the bar. “Can I have an espresso martini?”

“Absolutely!” Minho said in his customer service voice.

Espresso martinis were all the craze these days, especially with the ladies. You understood why, they were delicious and reminded everyone of a sweet little treat before the work day. You watched as Minho threw in his Boston shaker ice, vodka, coffee liqueur, and cold brew, and shook with all his might. The muscles you noticed on your birthday shined through, as the veins on his forearms and biceps were put to work. Your eyes traveled shamefully to his open chest, focusing on the groove in between. He poured the creamy drink into a martini glass and added it to her tab.

You drank the complimentary ice-cold water before he returned.

“Sorry about that.”

“No, no, I’m the one interrupting your work.” Despite drinking a multitude of fluids, your throat was dry and sharp, like the words were scraping skin on their way out. Just say it, dammit! “I’m sorry how I treated you on Monday.”

He shook his head. “I shouldn’t have ambushed you like that after so long.”

“Yeah, you really shouldn’t have.”

“For that, I’m sorry. But I’m not sorry for attending.”

“You should have chosen another time to meet.”

“Your thirtieth birthday is important. It’s a huge milestone. I couldn’t dream of missing it.”

“I don’t think that’s for you to decide.”

He hung his head in a way that a puppy would when being punished. “I know.”

“You –” you choked. “I don’t know. I don’t know what or how to feel.”

“Maybe we could start over.”

“Start over?”

“Hi,” he held out his hand for you to shake. “I’m Minho, I’m a bartender and chef, and we met when we were nineteen.”

“Minho –”

“Would you like to get coffee next door some time?”

“You are ridiculous.”

The rush of after-work over timers hit the bar like a thirsty school of fish. Two other bartenders jumped in, but they needed Minho to keep up a good speed. From his navy pants pocket, he pulled out his business card and slid it over.

“My number’s on the card.”

It was different from the one you had saved on your phone and he knew that. “Wait, I need to close out my tab.”

“It’s on me. Let me make up for Monday.”

He didn’t allow you to get a word in before taking the next customer. His mannerisms made every customer smile or blush. ‘Come closer’ he’d gesture with his finger, leaning in to hear their order, and winking after handing off the final product; rinse and repeat.

You left a hefty tip under your glass and slipped away from the crowd. At home, you spent half an hour rubbing your cheeks, unaware of how sore they were after the train ride.

The business card hung on your fridge under a London magnet. Every day, you’d wake up, stare at it while filling your water bottle, leave for work, come home, and stare at it some more as you prepared dinner. In the same serif font in black ink, in the center of the card was his full name. Under it said ‘Restauranteur’, followed by ‘DAHLIA’, the Japanese flavors-inspired bar, and ‘RED LIGHT’, the one with American flavors. His phone number and email were in small print, all information embossed on an off-white business card. ‘Classy’ was the most appropriate description of such a card, while yours was so plain in comparison. Technology products didn’t need that kind of pizazz, to be fair.

The next time you saw Chaeryoung was for a girls’ night-in on a Wednesday to gush about her new exclusive not-boyfriend. She noticed the business card while putting the dishes in the sink and plucked it from the fridge, already aware of what transpired on Thursday before.

“‘Restauranteur’,” she scoffed. “Ok, Minho.”

“I know, right? Can you believe he bought out that sleazy old man?”

“I always wondered why the quality went up all of a sudden. I can’t believe he hid that from everyone else, too! We’ve all been meeting around that area for months! Why did he give you this, though?”

“I guess he changed his number.”

“What? He’s had this number for a while now.” You shot her a deadpanned look. “Oh, right. You wouldn’t have known whether he changed it or not. Did you hit him up?”

“No.”

“Why not?”

“Why would I? It feels… too soon.”

“Five years feels too soon?”

“No,” you sighed, unable to form the words in the right sentence. “We’re already on awkward footing after my birthday. And seeing and talking to him made my blood pressure spike to an unhealthy degree.”

“So, you’re nervous?”

Nervous wasn’t right. It felt much deeper than that. “Afraid.”

If anyone knew the degree of pain and confusion you held for Minho, it was Chaeryoung. She always did her best to understand, but there are some things one must experience to understand, and this was one of them. She held you firm by the shoulders and knitted her brows.

“Give me your phone.”

“What?”

The music streaming on your phone paused as your best friend moved swiftly to the couch, already propping her feet up on the chaise before you could register what happened. The clicking of your phone keyboard over the bluetooth speaker snapped you back and you ran to join her.

“Wait, don’t!” you warned.

“‘Hey, bro’,” she said as she typed, “Too casual?”

“I’m thirty. I don’t say ‘bro’.”

“All right, jeez. ‘Hello, Minho. I hope this text finds you well. Per our last meeting – ’”

“Now you’re just being a dick.”

“I’m kidding, relax! ‘Hi, it’s _____. It was nice seeing you on Thursday.’”

“I wouldn’t say it was a ‘nice’ meeting.”

“Oh, my God, shut up. ‘Good to see you on Thursday,’ happy? ‘Would you like to get coffee some time?’ And send. This is fun, it’s like when we used to project our dating app DMs on the TV! Oh, wow he’s typing already. Asshole, he never answers any of us in the group chats until the next day.”

Texting a boy and sweating, waiting for his response… Were you thirteen again? The notification ding made your heart jump.

Your brows furrowed, matching Chaeryoung’s. “‘Hey! Of course I would. Just tell me when.’ Um. Tell him sometime next week?”

“‘Tomorrow at 11:00AM?’”

“Chaer!”

“‘See you then.’ You’re welcome!” she cheered, tossing your phone on your lap.

“Now he’ll think I’m excited…”

“Whether you are nervous, excited, or afraid, shouldn’t that mean something? That maybe you still have him in your cold, dead heart somewhere?”

“It took years of therapy to heal what was wounded. I don’t know if this will feel like closure or if I’m opening up my stitches.”

“And I’ll be here to help suture if it comes to it; again and again!” she encouraged, leaning her head on your shoulder. “I just want our friend group back together, you know? This is a start, sort of.”

“I know. Don’t get your hopes up, though.”

“Too late.”

The day it happened, the clouds were grey, and they cried and cried, pouring down the heaviest rain of the year. It rattled Minho’s windows like bullets made from hail, drowning the silence and filling the room with nothing but sorrow.

Tonight, you were celebrating your new job and the big move. After the plates were emptied, the music that played over his speakers slowed, and filled with wine and tenderness, you two swayed to the rhythm in each other’s arms. First, he had your hand in his and lightly hovered over your waist, leading the waltz across the living room with ease. As the songs progressed, his hold on you tightened. He laced his fingers with yours, traveled his hand to your lower back, then placed the other there, too, after wrapping your arm around his neck. He pressed his forehead to yours, the tips of your noses touching and nuzzling so sweetly it made your heart soar.

He sighed happily, shoulders relaxing under your arms. “Should we be doing this?”

“Hm, I don’t know,” you replied light heartedly, “you are just a friend, after all.”

“Do friends do this? Should we ask Chaeryoung and Jisung?”

“Not if you want to hear them gagging all night.”

His breathy laughs hit your lips and his eyes fluttered closed. “I want to kiss you.”

You’ve wanted to kiss him for five years. “Then kiss me.”

“And I want you to stay.”

“Stay?” You took a step back, hating the cold air that replaced his space. “What do you mean ‘stay’?”

“Don’t leave,” he begged.

“Minho –”

“Stay here with me.”

“No,” you said firmly. “This is the biggest thing to happen to my career, and I’m not throwing away this grand opportunity. Won’t you come with me instead?”

“You know I can’t leave my family right now.”

“Then,” you sighed, “do I wait for you?”

“Wait? We have options; what about long distance?”

“You know how vigorous my career is. I work long days and long nights. I can’t call you or text you the way that other people do.”

“So what?” he argued, throwing his hands up in frustration.

This was the first time you were having this talk. Never before had either of you revealed the feelings that mingled in the air whenever you were in the same room together. For years, you repressed them, too scared to cross the thin line that separated friendship from lovers and unwilling to feel vulnerable and reveal the true feelings of your heart. Because truthfully, you wouldn’t have time. You wouldn’t have time to drain and pour your heart into something – someone – that wasn’t the projects that laid out on your office desk, and how was that fair to someone you loved so dearly? As much as you wanted to love and to give, you couldn’t.

“I can’t,” you repeated. “That’s not fair to either of us. We deserve one hundred percent of each other, not fifty, or even ninety.”

“You’re not even willing to try?” he mumbled.

Tears pricked at the corners of your eyes. “How could you spring this on me the weekend before I leave?”

“This was my only chance –”

“No, it wasn’t. You had five years. Five years! And you know how important my career is to me!”

“What about me? Aren’t I important to you, too?”

“Don’t,” you stuttered.

“No, it’s not that I’m not important, it’s that your career is more important. Is that it?” When you couldn’t answer, he nodded his head, accepting the poor answer. “All I wanted was for us to try.”

“I can’t give you one hundred percent of me.”

“Then I’ll give more! One hundred ten percent; one hundred fifty!”

“How long can you last like that when you don’t know when we’ll be together again?”

“I won’t know unless we try.”

“I don’t want to try. Trying means uncertainty. For five years, I have been certain about you. But I’m certain it won’t work when we are not present.”

“We’re going in circles.” Minho turned and ran a hand through his fluffy, light bronze hair. This color on him, you remembered, made him look so young.

“I can wait,” you whispered. “We can be friends still, and –”

“I don’t want to be friends.”

You couldn’t decide if your mouth should hang open or sew it shut forever. Still, you managed to slip out, “What?”

“It’s all or nothing for me, _____.” His eyes mirrored your glossy ones and the tip of his nose that was just on yours a second ago was reddening. “I don’t want friendship with you. I want love and passion, and I want you to tell me you want it, too. We aren’t friends; we never were really just friends, you know that, don’t you?”

“I know.”

He closed the gap and his hands found yours, squeezing so tightly it was almost painful. “Then show me that you know! Tell me you want this! Tell me you don’t want to be just friends! Tell me you want me, desire me, that you can’t go a day without having me, the way I would for you!”

You shook your head. Long distance relationships never worked. You witnessed it through your coworkers, through friends, and bosses, and even old classmates who had deleted every existence of their past love and left no digital footprint on their timeline. Every relationship you ever knew to be long distance had never worked out, and you knew this one wouldn’t be any different.

He let go and stepped away. “I wish you a fulfilling life in the city –”

“Don’t do this.”

“– and I’m sorry, but I can’t be friends with you –”

“Minho, please…”

“– I can’t be just friends with someone who has my heart and doesn’t know what to do with it.”

Instead of rescinding, instead of apologizing and taking the leap of faith, taking the risk that came with being vulnerable and open and raw so you could see what it meant to be loved and cherished by someone who wanted to love and cherish, you decided to lock your heart away and to never reveal it to anyone ever again.

That was the last time you saw Minho. On your thirtieth birthday, he broke every layer you built to protect yourself in a matter of seconds.

“Earth to _____!”

In between ‘DAHLIA’ and your office, there was a coffee shop with outside seating. As you waited at one of the tables, the record player in your head had recalled that night, and once it started, it wouldn’t stop until it finished. Just as you finished, Minho arrived and waved a hand in front of your face and you wondered how long it took for you to notice.

“Sorry! Daydreaming.”

“About work?”

Did he truly think your mind was entirely consumed about work? “Yeah. Work.”

“Well, you keep daydreaming, and I’ll get us coffee. What would you like?”

“No, it’s my turn to get you something!”

“Nonsense! You also tipped me way too much. You still order the usual?”

If you were one thing, you were consistent. “The usual.”

Minho would do this finger-gun thing when he was feeling awkward, and he did so as he walked to the counter. His outfit wasn’t as formal as the night you saw him at the bar. His jeans were black and his sweater a bright cobalt; a color that allowed him to be the center of attention when he wasn’t asking for it.

You were the one to ask him to meet - or rather Chaeryoung was - but you didn’t consider what you’d talk about.

He came back with your usual and his usual, which was an iced americano. At least he, too, was consistent, and that hadn’t changed.

“Busy at work?” he asked, clearly not sure what to talk about, either.

“Yeah. Always busy, sadly.”

“You weren’t kidding when you said your hours would be long.”

“No,” you confirmed, “I wasn’t. What about you? What’s your work day like as the city’s coolest restaurateur?”

“You flatter me. I work at ‘RED LIGHT’ during the day, and head to ‘DAHLIA’ at night.”

You tried to estimate his work hours in your head. “Back-to-back?”

“Yup.”

“Everyday?”

“Kind of. If it’s slow on like, a Monday or Tuesday, I’ll head out early and let the closers handle it. Otherwise, my day off is whenever I feel like it, but it’s not a real day-off. I use those days to answer emails and organize the budget or the inventory. Takes every waking moment to run a restaurant or bar, you know?”

“I don’t know. How do you balance everything?”

“Well, I love my job. It’s hard, but I don’t find it draining. I guess that helps. I don’t mind waking up at five in the morning, working, and going to sleep, at least not yet. I’m sure I’ll hit a wall someday, but I’m doing my best to not let that happen.”

You’re afraid to ask the next question. “How do you balance your relationship with Karina when you’re so busy?”

“Phone calls, Facetime, designated nights for dates, surprise visits, little gifts and flowers here and there,” he nodded, looking at the table. “It’s hard, but we’re trying. That’s what’s important.”

Your coffee’s bitter and you didn’t want to bother with it after a couple of sips, but you keep at it to keep your lips occupied and to hide the way your teeth grit at the underlying accusation. “That takes a lot of patience. Some people struggle with that.”

He caught your drift and it appeared he realized he deserved that. “And you? Seeing anyone?”

“No.”

“Not even casually?”

“No. Some dates here and there, but they never stick.”

“Why is that?”

“Either they’re boring, too intimidated by a strong female corporate supplicant, or I’m the problem.”

“Isn’t it -” he began but stopped himself. “Never mind.”

“Say what you mean,” you pushed light heartedly.

“Isn’t it lonely?”

It’s true that it seemed like Cupid made his way around your friend group and you were the last to get hit. When your friends came home at night, they’d be welcomed into open arms and warm bodies. You came home to snacks and warmth was in the form of a fuzzy blanket you kept on the couch. At the height of your career, you once believed that love could wait, that it would find you at the right time and you’d know right then you were ready. As Minho sat across from you picking your brain about the emptiness that came with climbing the corporate ladder, the fear of feeling incomplete was imminent.

You wouldn’t let him see that part of you.

“I like my alone time.”

“But you have so much love in your heart.” He cleared his throat, regretting the arrangement of those words when he saw how your face twisted. What would he know about what’s in your heart? “Who do you give your affections to?”

“Must it be romantic?” you retorted. “My love is given to those you saw on my birthday.”

“I guess not. You’ve always been a romantic, though.”

“Five years is more than enough time to change who I was the last time you saw me.”

“Is that change good?” he asked nervously.

‘Is the result of feeling loveless from rejection and isolation a good change? Are you an idiot?’ you wanted to ask. But that would put the blame on him and blaming him meant acknowledging how much he affected you after all these years.

“Is that change good,” you repeated thoughtfully. “Neutral.”

“Neutral?”

“I think the decision we made five years ago put us where we are today; we’re both successful young adults thriving in a beautiful city. But I lost you as a result. So, the good must come with some bad. That’s neutral, no?”

His lips formed a smile, but again, it did not travel to his eyes. “You know, I was scared to come here today.”

“I’m not that terrifying, am I?”

“At first I thought, ‘wow, Chaeryoung did not try hard to pretend to be you at all.’”

You giggled. “No; no, she didn’t.”

“And then I thought, ‘we’ll be in public. She won’t kill me in front of people, right?’”

“Kill you!”

“But I know that wouldn’t have stopped you either way,” he grinned. “You haven’t killed me yet. Is it crazy of me to think of this as a good sign?”

“A sign! Is there something you’re looking to gain out of this meeting?” you teased.

“Yes,” he admitted, “a friend.”

Your mouth hung open slightly, unsure of what to say, but your face twisted in a way that mimicked your thoughts. “A friend?”

“I know you and I have said and done some unkind things back then that we may not be able to forgive each other for, but after seeing you on your birthday, I couldn’t stop thinking of you. You may not believe me, but I miss you.”

Your head and your heart were in conflict. You had spent all this time trying not to miss him. Your mouth opened and closed like a fish out of water, unwilling to say the truth. “I… I’m sorry, I don’t know what to say.”

“Don’t be. I shouldn’t have sprung that on you all of a sudden. But… do you think it’s possible? That we could be friends again?”

How quickly would you lose him a second time? “I think we shouldn’t force it.”

“Friendships bloom naturally, of course.”

A flash of pink blurred your peripherals before it became the center of your attention. Karina held a finger to her lips as she approached Minho from behind, covering his eyes with her slender fingers. He took her hand and kissed it, leaning back to look at his glittering diamond with hearts in his eyes. They were a beautiful couple and it was as clear as day how much they adored each other. Witnessing love was supposed to be like looking at a garden of roses, but as you sat across in a front-row seat, you thought to yourself how much you disliked the smell of roses, anyway.

“Hi!” she greeted happily. “Sorry to interrupt, but we have lunch plans.”

You shook your head, dismissing the tightness in your gut. “No, please interrupt. I’m sorry for keeping him.”

“Would you like to join?”

You would rather jump off the roof of your fifty-floor office building. “Thank you, but I made plans with my co-workers already.”

“Then, we’ll have to get dinner some time!”

It pained you how much you disliked her. She didn’t deserve it. “Dinner some time sounds great.”

As Minho got up to leave, he leaned over the table and in a hushed tone said, “I just want you to know that you still cannot hide your feelings on your face.”

“My boss thinks it’s my killing charm.”

“That’s one way to put it.”

Minho’s wink was like a button that set off every alarm in your body. As he walked away, hand-in-hand with the love of his life, you tortured yourself watching them recede until they rounded the corner.

–

Unfortunately, it was common workplace etiquette to have drinks with your coworkers after hours now that your schedules had slowed down. How convenient it was that ‘DAHLIA’ was open and even more so that your coworkers were eager to go. Initially, you tried to wiggle out of going, but your close comrade Choi San wouldn’t allow it.

He slammed his veiny hand on your desk, and you jumped. “Jesus -”

“_____ _____,” he boomed, loudly announcing your government name.

“No.”

“Come on! You haven’t joined us in, like, forever!”

“Forever will continue.”

“And if I bribe you with free drinks?”

You paused typing. “I’m listening.”

“You, me, and the forty-fifth floor at ‘DAHLIA’ in ten minutes.”

“‘DAHLIA’?” you repeated. “Does it have to be that bar?”

“Mingi already called the place to reserve. Why, is it not good?”

“No, quite the opposite.”

“Then make haste, my lady!”

The whole way across the street, San had his arm around your shoulder in a tight grip, too afraid to let you slip at the slightest chance of hesitancy. The smooth skin of his forearms touched your neck and it was close enough to smell the cologne he dabbed just minutes before leaving the building, which you now realized to be on purpose.

Inside, a bunch of young corporate acolytes gathered all throughout the bar, all of whom you worked and were familiar with. Minho, though busy taking their orders, saw you and San come in. He did a double take, eyebrow twitching upwards at the arm suffocating your neck. Your lips formed the words, ‘kill me’, as San guided you forward to the line to order.

Small talk with San was never small when he easily filled you in on his latest interests and hobbies. The other women in the office who were nearby engaged with him enthusiastically. Admittedly, there were a multitude of reasons why San was popular around the office. He was intelligent, always willing to lend a helping hand, had a positive attitude even when days were long and tough, and most importantly, he was so hot that your boss had to jokingly warn him several times to tone it down. His argument was it wasn’t his fault that button-downs were tight on his back and arms.

Minho was the one to usher you forward with his index and middle fingers.

San wrapped his arm around your shoulder again for no apparent reason. “Hello!” he greeted enthusiastically.

“Hi. _____,” he addressed to you informally.

“‘Sup, Minho,” you sighed.

“You two know each other?” San inquired. “Is that why you didn’t want to come?”

San’s only flaw was that he talked too much. Your jaw ticked. “Old friends. And no, that’s not why.”

“Oh!”

“What can I get you two?” You thought you heard ice in Minho’s voice, but you must be mistaken.

You needed something strong. “A negroni, please.”

“Double that,” San said.

Minho neither confirmed nor denied hearing the order before starting on it. Finally, you’re able to breathe easier when the weight of San’s muscly arm lets you go, confident that you wouldn’t book it out the bar. He instead turned his body to you, creating a wall and making you feel like you were under a microscope.

“Your presentation to the team yesterday was, um, amazing,” he stuttered.

Calling a weekly work presentation amazing was odd; he’s heard you lead them probably a hundred times by now. “Yeah? Thanks.”

“And the way you were able to answer all of the questions Boss Man fired at you? It’s no wonder you’re his favorite.”

“I wouldn’t say I’m his favorite.”

“Well, you’re my favorite.” As soon as those words left his lips, he pursed them together and shut his eyes. “I-I mean the team’s favorite.”

You nearly snorted, though your smile was hard to hide. “That’s… certainly an honor -”

“Two negronis,” Minho interrupted as he pushed the glasses forward.

“I got it,” San reiterated.

“Thanks. I’ll get the next one. I’ll meet you over in a bit; gonna talk to my good ol’ friend here,” you forced a grin. Like an obedient dog, San joined the others at the reserved tables.

“Wow, he’s…” Minho trailed off. “A lot.”

“Mother always said not to say mean things.”

“That was me being nice. Don’t tell me that’s your type.”

“Minho! That would be highly inappropriate workplace behavior,” you teased, though he didn’t seem amused. “Besides, what do you know about my type?”

He smirked. “I think I would know better than anyone.”

The twinge in your chest was crushing. Had Cupid returned with sturdier arrows? “Remember, things can change.”

“Did they, though?”

Why did that matter? “I’ll see you later, Minho.”

The whole night, San hovered over you like a shadow, more than he ever had before. Maybe he saw Minho as competition after your coworkers prodded for the story behind you and the hot bartender. He wouldn’t have to worry, though, as he was highly mistaken about both Minho and having interest in someone you worked with.

You would thank San in the morning for dragging you out that night because he reminded you the importance of camaraderie. It was nice to be surrounded by people who shared the same professional struggles as you and it was freeing for everyone to let their walls down. Many of your co-workers were also single and struggling, filling the bar with chatter about failed dates and competing to see who had the worst one as of late. This was the first night in a long while that you had fun, and even though the man that haunted your thoughts was less than twenty feet away, you wouldn’t let him ruin this one night out of many.

But you felt it; that burn in the back of your head like twin cigarettes had bore themselves into your skull; the piercing eyes of an onlooker who couldn’t look away from you and the buff man next to you all night. Each time you tried to catch him in the act, he had anticipated it, busying himself with a customer or peeling orange twists, and when you looked away, you’d feel it again.

Like a worm eating its way through an apple, the fire in Minho’s eyes consumed you.

–

‘Wya?’

On a random weeknight, Minho texted you this just as you were leaving the office. You looked around outside looking for a sniper or an inconspicuous spy but did not see anything suspicious or sensed any danger. To that, you replied with, ‘Leaving the office. Why?’

‘Don’t move.’

If you weren’t panicking before, you were now. Then, from around the alley where ‘DAHLIA’ was, Minho popped up with a tote bag on his arm and an apron slung over his shoulder. He waved and flashed his feline smile, unaware of how cryptic his texts were.

“You didn’t literally have to not move,” he teased.

“Maybe you should normalize giving context.”

“Context is: do you have dinner plans tonight?”

Your plan was to pick up grocery store sushi and binge watch TV, if you’d call that a plan. “Not really. Why?”

He gestured to his tote bag. “I was going to my test kitchen. Do you want to be my guinea pig?”

You considered saying no, but free food was involved. Plus, this is what friends would do, right? “Where’s this test kitchen of yours?”

“In my townhome. ‘Test kitchen’ just sounds cooler.”

The train ride to Minho’s place was the same distance as yours, just in the opposite direction. There wasn’t a ‘nice’ or a ‘bad’ side of the city, but you definitely wouldn’t classify this as the ‘bad’ side. Rows and rows of townhomes occupied endless streets in this neighborhood and each one had its own charm. Minho’s was right in the middle and the reddest, brickiest one on the block while the others had conformed to a more modern grey stucco-style.

The inside was anything but traditional though, with touches of modern style and technology. The first floor was similar to your loft, with an open floor plan combining the kitchen and living room meant for a true host and entertainer. The kitchen, of course, was the most updated, with a fancy six-burner stove, a magnetic display of different knives, and a giant white-granite island.

Soonie, Doongie, and Dori greeted Minho first by rubbing up against his calves and then greeted you second, unaware of the time that passed and recognizing your scent like you were only gone on a short trip.

You gasped happily, scratching their little heads and ears. “My fat ‘n furry step-children!”

“Looks like they missed you,” Minho chuckled.

“Oh, I missed you, too!” you cooed. “Can I help with any prep?”

“Can you help wash the produce?”

“Yes, chef.”

You tried not to stare too long at Minho while he tied the apron around his waist and rolled up his sleeves. There were vegetables in his tote bag you’ve never seen before, like the bulbous onion-like thing that smelled of licorice and a variation of a mushroom that looked like it would turn you into a zombie.

“Everything’s a vegetable or a fruit,” you noted.

“I’m attempting some vegetarian and vegan options outside of a salad and some dessert. If it doesn’t work out, the Thai place down the street is really good.”

Minho instructed you to cut vegetables in ways that you didn’t even know had a name to the technique. You had to tell him to talk to you like a five-year-old because you were not someone who knew what it meant to julienne a carrot or prepare the mise en place.

The first dish was a seared cabbage wedge. Cut the head into wedges; sear on the pan; make a soy-sugar-rice-vinegar saucy thing; shave a potato and toast it like a breadcrumb; retrieve the soy-and-smoke-cured egg yolk and… shave it?

“What do you mean ‘shave it’?” you muttered, holding the hardened yellow orb of congealed something in one hand and a sharp sword-like thingamabob in the other. “Isn’t it going to burst?”

Minho, bless his heart, stood behind you and guided your hands together. His hands, despite going through hundreds of washes and touching all things hot and cold, were soft and warm on top of yours. He had you shave one quarter of the solid egg yolk over the dressed cabbage wedge.

“The yolk is cured, so it’s solid all the way through,” he said.

His breath tickled the shell of your ear and it turned hot. Was the oven set to a thousand degrees? “O-Oh! Wow, that’s cool. Is it done?”

It was only then that Minho released his hold. “Yup. Try it.”

Cooking was a hidden form of sorcery. It was one of the most complex and delicious dishes you’ve ever eaten. Salty from the potato breadcrumb, savory from the egg yolk, and sweet from the soy sauce, feeling different textures and flavors so good you had to stop yourself from moaning.

“Good?” he asked. All you could do was nod vigorously with eyes wide and glittering. He smiled genuinely and his eyes sparkled, too. He opened his mouth and said, “Ah~”

That was your cue to feed him a bite. You gathered the perfect amount of everything onto a fork for him. As he chewed, his brows knitted together thoughtfully and you’re unsure of what that expression meant. From his pocket, he took out a small field notes book and scribbled something quickly.

“You don’t like it?”

He shook his head. “No, I like it a lot.”

“Why is your face like that?”

“What’s wrong with my face?”

“You look so angry.”

“That’s just how my face looks.”

Next was a vegetarian bone marrow. Nothing about bones or marrows sounded remotely vegetarian, but Minho handed you two fat king oyster mushrooms to halve and remove the centers while he sautéed a medley of other mushrooms in salted butter, garlic, and thyme. There was a comfortable silence in the kitchen as you both worked. Nothing felt awkward, or forced, or as bitter as your last meetings were.

As you waited for Minho’s further instructions, you toured the living space and observed all the pictures. You were in about half of them. Most were of your entire friend group, but many were significant moments in your lives, like graduation, birthdays, talent shows, or candid solo pictures. After all these years, when you kept any evidence of him hidden in a shoe box in your closet, he displayed you loud and proud. You glossed over the number of pictures of Karina for your own sake but seeing her face that many times made you stop looking.

When you turned back, Minho was staring at you so intently, he forgot to pretend he wasn’t watching.

“What is it?” you asked.

“Nothing,” he cleared his throat. “Um, the next step is ready.”

Under an immersive blender (“Immersion blender, silly.”) was the sautéed medley and the guts of the king oyster mushroom, softened cream cheese, and olive oil. The paste was bagged and piped back into the charred and seasoned center of the cut-out king oyster mushroom. With a flame torch, Minho darkened the paste, creating a bruleed outer layer, and topped it off with pink peppercorns, pecorino, and chives. Triangles of buttered toast were the vehicle.

Minho took a spoon and scooped out the center. “A little bit of ‘marrow’ and voila. And the ‘bone’ is edible, too, obviously.”

Your eyes teared up at the fireworks of umami. “Will you cater for my next birthday?”

“For you, I will.”

After course upon course of seared and leafy bites of savory and salty goodness, you greenlit practically all of them to Minho’s dismay (“Guinea pig means to critique, not suck up to.”). Dessert was the final leg of courses. From preserved lemon sorbets to chocolatey bites of flourless cake, you would fall into a deep sleep tonight on a cloud of spun sugar.

“I’m drunk on life,” you sighed happily.

“I like you best that way.”

“Seriously, Minho, you have something really good here. I’m no expert, but I think –”

“Wait!” he interrupted. “Chocolate on your lip.”

“Huh? Here?” you licked once.

“Not even close.”

“Here?”

“No.”

“Where’s a napkin?”

“Hold still, will you?”

Minho held your chin between his thumb and index finger and tilted up. Like a surgeon, he meticulously wiped away all evidence of your inner chocolate-devouring goblin with his other thumb. For a moment, he lowered his hand to wipe it on his apron, but he caught you looking at his lips.

“Th-Thanks,” you whispered.

He took the chocolate-covered thumb and sucked it clean, maintaining his gaze before it lowered. “My pleasure.”

The kitchen felt hot and it was hard to breathe. The alarms in your head went off again; the longer you stayed, the faster you’d fall. “I-I should go.”

“Wait –”

“This was great by the way!” you called as you backed up towards the door. “S-So good! And thank you, I will pay you back for any groceries!”

“That’s not necessary, I invited you here.”

“Let me know what you decide to add to the menu, and I’ll-I’ll stop by some time, yeah?”

You didn’t give him the opportunity to answer before running out the door.

–

The following weeks after your inappropriately intimate tasting, you avoided Minho as long as you could. It hadn’t even been a month since you saw him for the first time and you already crossed the thin line that was never meant to be crossed. You couldn��t even be strong for that long before you fell back into the routine of desiring the one man you weren’t allowed to have.

This was the curse of Cupid. He had successfully shot and landed an arrow into every friend you loved, pairing them up with their person and the match-up was so right it was scary. Somehow, at the perfect time under the correct circumstances, your friends found the ones that completed their other half, or so they said, and you witnessed love in full bloom every time it happened and everyday since. When it was shoved in your face like that, how could you not think about what you were missing out on every single day of your life?

You used to think considering a couple as two halves was a disservice to humanity. Halves implied that part of you was missing; it suggested that one could never be whole alone, that they spend their whole lives finding someone who fit the two-piece puzzle. A two piece puzzle was supposed to be the easiest puzzle in the world, but in a box filled with over eight billion pieces, it would take forever for Cupid to pair the pieces. At twenty-five, after that stormy night, you once believed that you could survive as one single piece among the eight billion for the rest of your life at the bottom of the pieces pile, if it came to it; but now that you’re the last of the friend group to yet find your match - at thirty, at that - maybe Cupid had a point to the whole two halves make a whole argument.

Because admittedly, as much as you tried to convince yourself on your thirtieth birthday, you didn’t feel whole. Hell, you barely felt like half; and every time you saw Minho, bits of you were being chipped off to the point that you were scared of losing your half of the puzzle.

To distract yourself from thinking about Minho licking chocolate from your lips, you finally jumped the gun and downloaded dating apps for the first time. Well, Chaeryoung and Jisung did.

“Put on your bathing suit,” she ordered.

“Excuse you.”

“What? All your selfies are so normal!”

“Normal is a good thing, Chaer.”

“But it’s not,” Jisung piped in. “Dating is not what it used to be. Before, it was as simple as looking pretty, saying your favorite song or movie, and naming the restaurant you want your first date to be at. Now, you have to get personal. Name a niche hobby, what character from a TV show represents you the most, what childhood trauma affected your frontal lobe development -”

“Ok, I get it.”

Jisung and Chaeryoung sandwiched you tightly on the couch even though the view of the tablet was easily seen. Chaeryoung filled in all the prompts for you a little too enthusiastically while Jisung was there to judge through the lens of the male gaze and snacks.

The woman beside you cackled evilly. “This is so much fun! I can’t believe you’re finally doing this. Do you know how long I’ve been waiting for this moment?”

“Seriously. What man made you do this?” Jisung teased.

You yanked the tablet back. “No one.”

“Liar.”

“Who do you think, Han?” Chaeryoung stated bluntly. “Who else could have brought this blessing upon us?”

“Oh,” he mused, “duh.”

“Shut up, both of you! No one made me do this. Am I not worthy of finding love?”

“Of course you are. Just not this way.”

“Why not this way?”

“Just watch.”

The second someone completes their profile, it’s like the app forces it at the top of everyone’s algorithm. You received a lot of interest and private messages in the first five minutes, many of which were… bold…

“Men are so uncouth,” you groaned. “Is sex all you think about?”

“Yeah,” Jisung shrugged, pointing to his head and then his groin. “Two heads, two brains.”

“Ugh, gross.”

Chaeryoung swiped left at lightning speed. “Too young, too old, too short, too tall, too smart –”

“I like smart,” you pouted.

“The key to a healthy relationship is to be smarter than them.” Jisung didn’t argue, as he was happily committed to his intelligent partner (a mystery to all, as no one knew how he bagged a research fellow).

There’s a knock on your door. The three of you look at each other in confusion.

“You two need to stop secretly inviting strange men to my home,” you accused before getting up.

“I didn’t tell anyone,” Jisung defended, “did you?” Chaeryoung denied.

When you opened the door, a disheveled Minho stood there with an oily bag in his hands. He raised a brow. “Am I that strange?”

Just as you were trying to trust in the dating app algorithm, the Gods and Cupid said, ‘let there be chaos!’ “You, specifically? A little bit.”

“Ha ha,” he drawled. “Am I interrupting something?”

“Yeah!” Jisung called from the couch. “This is girl time, Min!”

“Shut up!” Chaeryoung pulled Jisung up from the couch and they both patted your head before rushing out the door. “We’ll see you later, _____!”

“Y-You don’t have to leave!” you practically begged.

“Honey, it’s past-nine on a weekday, yes we do!”

“I didn’t realize the time,” Minho frowned, looking at his watch. “I was nearby with Hyunjin and thought I’d stop by with some fries to make up for Chaeryoung tossing them out on your birthday.”

You don’t even remember that happening. “That’s so nice of you.”

“I can come back another time.”

“No!” you said an octave too high. “No, please come in!”

Minho’s outfit was more casual than ‘DAHLIA’s typical button down and tight slacks and you deduced he was working at ‘RED LIGHT’ today. There were multiple oil and/or beer stains on his shirt and his hair was parted and pointing in different directions, evidence of his hand having to go through it several dozen times out of stress.

“You look…”

“I know,” he sighed, plopping the bag on the table. “There was a work-lunch event today that turned into dinner for some corporate slugs. Then, Hyunjin was looking at a location for his coffee excursion and asked for my help. Four hours later, I’m starving and thought of you.”

He was thinking of you a lot lately, it seemed, and it was hard to deny that you reciprocated. “This is wonderful, thank you. I owe you two dinners now.”

“You don’t ‘owe’ me anything. Friends don’t owe; they treat.”

“My treat next time, then.”

“And the next,” he reminded with a smirk. “What were you girlies doing just now?”

“Um,” you hesitated, cheeks stuffed with potato. “Making me a dating profile.”

He raised a brow in the same way when he saw you walking in with San: questioning and dissatisfied. “You never had one before?”

“I was on-and-off when I first moved here, but I couldn’t stand to open the apps after a couple days of usage.”

He does the thing with his fingers when he gestures to come close. You noticed his hands were veinier now than when you were younger.

“Let me see.”

“Let you see my dating profile?” He nodded. “Absolutely not.”

“C’mon, I’ll give you an opinion through the male gaze.”

“Why do you think Jisung was here?”

“Certainly not that.”

Defeated, you handed him your phone with the app open. There’s a twinkle of curiosity wondering how he’d react, but you wanted to tame that fire quickly. He scrolled and swiped, then scrolled, and scrolled, and scrolled.

His face was stern when he said, “You already have a lot of admirers.”

“Isn’t that a good thing?”

He didn’t answer and continued to scroll. “What about that guy you work with?”

“San? What about him?”

“Nothing came of it?”

“Didn’t I tell you that would be inappropriate?”

“Is that the only reason stopping you?”

You squint your eyes at your all too curious friend who hadn’t looked up from your phone since taking it. He popped fries in his mouth rhythmically like a metronome until he caught the heat from your gaze. He looked up and did a double take.

“Hm?” he asked.

“Why are you so curious?”

“So, there’s another reason stopping you?”

“And if there is?”

“And if there is…” he repeated, fiddling with your phone charm. “Would you tell me?”

The inkling of assumption tickled annoyingly at the corners of your mind. Was he asking to let you know that he knew he was the reason for your desires? Or was he asking to tease you, to prove to you that if you had made the right decision all those years ago, you could have been in Karina’s position? That all this time you spent away from him, your journey for companionship started too late. And sure, your bank account was as filled as your stomach, but was it worth it when you had no one to share it with?

He waited patiently for your answer, but you heard his foot tapping rapidly on the wood. Your mouth opened, then closed, and you finally shook your head in shame, because your lips were cursed to speak the truth or nothing at all and you would rather deny than to admit.

He licked his lips, and that gesture alone sparked something in your core. Then he nodded in a way that expressed sourness, as if this confirmation was exactly what he expected but not what he was hoping in both the nonverbal response and the underlying tone that trailed behind it.

You broke the silence. “How’s Karina?”

“Good.” He was quick to shake his head. “Actually, I don’t know. I haven’t seen her since lunch a month ago.”

“Why’s that?”

“I’ve… been too busy.”

Shameful and embarrassed, was what you gathered from his response. As he should; to criticize your decision only to repeat the cycle when he found fulfillment in his career was so… Hypocritical was not a strong enough word. Betrayal, perhaps, was the most correct, but that didn’t satisfy you, either.

You wouldn’t get satisfaction from any angle, though. No matter how you viewed it, it was selfish to consider yourself relevant here. Minho was hurting; everything you feared about relationships had flowered before him and crushed the idea that perfection could be achieved as long as both people tried. But it seemed that although he tried, it wasn’t enough, and maybe his ideals were more out of the ordinary than he anticipated.

“It’s put a bit of a strain on our relationship. She wants to settle down and I… I thought I did, too, but… you know, my places have been growing so much, and…”

As he trailed off and off through a list of excuses, it took you all the way back to the night that it rained. You also spat excuses from your pockets and got nowhere. Now, Minho was on your side, but it didn’t feel great, either.

“What’s more important to you?” you asked.

That was the age-old dilemma, wasn’t it? What was most important to someone as an adult who spent most of their life getting educated and preparing for the professional world to milk money from consumers; the career they adored and earned or the love they found along the way? One could argue they could live without love, but could one live with themselves if they gave up their dream? How many rom-coms have you and Minho laughed at where the world that movie was set in was in a vacuum and the couple always chose each other? Though the plot was fake, the dilemma was real, and the choices they made in the movies were just not realistic.

“Important,” he chuckled, understanding what you were getting at. “Why can’t both be important to me?”

“They can, but it’s clear your efforts are imbalanced in one direction. Otherwise, we would not be having this conversation.”

The fries were long gone. Minho stood up and tossed the bag in the trash before grabbing the unfinished bottle of wine leftover from your birthday and two glasses. You supposed tonight would be the most appropriate night to finish it off. Plus, Minho needed it, apparently.

“I tried, you know,” he sighed, “I really did. I text every night; I send her flowers to her office; I cook for her, shower her with gifts, and tell her regularly that I-I…”

Minho didn’t complete his thought, but you knew what he meant to say. Why would he not, for your sake? “That you love her?”

“Yeah. That I loved her.” Your glasses raised in sync. “I get it. I’m not as present, and I get her love language is quality time, but when did the thought stop counting?”

“Have you considered you two aren’t compatible?”

“Anyone can be compatible, no? Where’s the effort?”

Now you were feeling annoyed. Were these digs subconsciously at you? “Effort can only go so far. You said her love language is quality time. You could do everything in between, but you’re not there to hold her, to kiss her, to tangle under the bed sheets as much as she wants, then guess what? She’s never going to feel the love that she wants and deserves.”

“What about me? What about what I want?”

“I don’t know what you want. Does she? Do you?”

Minho chugged the rest of the cabernet in his glass, nose wrinkling, before pouring in more with a heavy hand. You ignored how cute his nose looked. “I don’t know what I want.”

“Ok, so you can’t complain is what I’m hearing.”

A chuckle huffed through his nose, annoyed that someone who he confided in didn’t feed into his fantasy that his ideology was gospel.

“Ahh!” he groaned loudly to the ceiling. “Fucking hell. I thought this was supposed to get easier when we were older?”

“What? Love?” you scoffed. “Look at us; I’m stuck on the apps and you’re stuck in your ways. You think this gets easier just because we have more ‘life experience’?” Your air quotes were overly exaggerated. “No, dude. People are dumb at every age.”

“I’m not dumb,” he pouted.

“You’re a little dumb.”

He giggled a bit and it traveled down his belly to a full laugh. You couldn’t help but smile, too, which grew into your own fit of laughs, and the condo was filled with ugly laughs and tears of joy, pain, and all that was locked inside your’s and Minho’s souls since inception. These nights were the ones you once looked forward to.

When the giggles died down, he stared blankly at the swirling wine in the glass and asked, “Do you think we could have worked out?”

You felt your cheeks and nose flare brightly. “Worked out? Like if we tried?”

In some other tangential timeline, Minho moved to the city. Maybe he still bought out ‘RED LIGHT’, and you would visit him everyday after work and bring your coworkers in to show off your hot bartender boyfriend. Then, you’d take the train home together. You’d wind down on the couch watching a couple episodes of something light and crawl into bed in each other’s arms. Your lips would never leave his unless it was to come up for air, arms wrapped around his naked torso as he crawled on top, and mumbling praises and poems of how much you adored him.

Like an asteroid that orbits a planet, you revolve your life around him and his happiness. If you tried long distance or if you gave up your career, it would be a difficult feat, and happiness would not be found in that desert. Leaving for the city was for the best. He eventually found his oasis, and you were still on the long journey of finding yours in between the infinite dunes.

Before you realized, your nose burned some more and your vision blurred. “I think it still would have been really hard.”

“Would it have been worth it?”

“I think…” you hesitated, but the wine in your veins was overtaking, “it would only have been worth it if it was with you.”

“Then, why?” he begged. “What happened to ‘it’s better to have loved and lost’?”

“After all this time, you still can’t see what I see. I never want to risk something where I would lose you. So, I didn’t think I’d lose you if I said no.”

“This is… so stupid…”

“Don’t insult me in my home.”

“No, I… I…” he stuttered, and it’s just now you see his eyes were glossy, too. “I can’t stop thinking about you, and it’s so fucking stupid.”

It was stupid; you moved out to move on, and here he was at your door bringing you french fries and opening bars across from where you work, invading your life like a decade-old infectious disease with no ailment known to man-kind. It was stupid; he was taken, spitting out confessions of his failing love story to the one he ended, telling you he still thinks of you before he sleeps. It was very stupid, and it pained you not to fall for it.

You shook your head. “Don’t.”

“______ -”

“You can’t think of me.”

He reached out across the table to take your hands. You allowed it, because you were a weak, weak woman, starving for touch and hungry for him. His skin was rough and tired from the dehydrating soaps of the service industry, but they felt so right.

“Tell me you don’t think of me,” he demanded. “Tell me, and I’ll leave.”

“What does it mean for you to leave? You will leave my home, and then what? Will you try to be better for her? You’ll stay in my life and we can be friends? Or will you leave permanently and change the dynamic of our friend group forever for the second time?” By now, the tears were falling and words choked as they came out, but your grip on him betrayed you and you held on like he was hanging off a cliff.

“I… The… The former…”

“Then, no. No, I don’t think of you. I’m not tormented by you, I’m not in ruins when I see you, I don’t smell you on my clothes, I don’t see you when I close my eyes, or in stranger’s faces when they pass, I don’t dream of you, and I definitely don’t think of you every second of everyday!”

“You can’t even convince yourself anymore. Why won’t you be vulnerable with me?”

“Vulnerability is weakness, Minho! I have been strong for so long; without you, at that!” your voice was shrill and loud and you couldn't be bothered to sit. You were up from your chair, leaning over the table, and he winced as you kept going. “You come here, turn my life upside down, and ask me to be vulnerable? To lower my guard around you? After you abandoned me all because the circumstances weren’t right at that moment? Fuck you.”

He got up from the table to get to you and towered over you, torso much wider than you remembered. He was too close, and you could feel him feel you. Your body hadn’t turned to face him, too scared to face your biggest fear, so he forced it upon you by holding your shoulders. His eyes, so big and brown that it was easy to drown in them, dug deep into yours and pleaded with everything he had in his heart.

“Fine, don’t be vulnerable, but show yourself some mercy, for fuck’s sake.”

“Mercy? I want someone I can’t have. How does that merit mercy?”

He faltered a bit and you regretted the moment you invited him in. His eyebrows furrowed in what you thought was pity. Your head dropped in shame; that was the last thing you needed. His hands moved to hold your face as if he never wanted you to drop something so precious to him ever again.

“Don’t,” you repeated.

His forehead connected with yours and suddenly, you felt young again. It’s what you needed, what you wanted, but…

“I want to kiss you.”

The rush from five years ago hit you like a truck. “I want to kiss you, too.”

Every emotion, every desire, collided into the kiss. His hands swiftly moved to your waist and pulled you in until every millimeter of you touched some part of him and soon your hands were lost in his hair. His lips were soft, and you always imagined them to feel like petals of a tulip, but he was earnest and there was some pain in the amount of pressure he pressed into you. The pain felt good, the feeling of being wanted made your heart soar, and you two exchanged gasps and moans as your lips moved fervently, hungry for indulgence after being teased with temptation. But his tongue tasted sour, and bitter, and nothing like the coffee and chocolate you once dreamed of, because this circumstance was yet again not right. He tasted like rotting fruit because stolen fruit was never sweet.

You broke away, gasping and sniffling and it was so hard to breathe. “You’re not mine,” you cried.

“But you have always been mine,” he whispered, with his breath ghosting your lips.

You shook your head, over and over until you freed yourself from his grip, wishing you’d be free of him forever. You turned your back to him, unable to show your face as you said, “I think you should leave.”

Back then, you wished he fought for you as much as he wished you to do the same. You wished he’d followed you, or waited for you until the time was right, but of course time didn’t wait for anyone. Deep down, as you broke into pieces in your dining room, you hoped he’d fight for you then, too, and proclaim that his heart belonged to only you. You were fooled twice, and as the saying goes, shame on you.

The failure of reciprocity would weigh you down just as much. You never fought for him the way you wished he would for you for the simple fact that you weren’t allowed to. He was a taken man, a man who said not too long ago how he told her he loved her every single night, and it would destroy you how he’d go home later and still say those words.

You believed everyone was worthy of love, including you. The love you wanted wasn’t supposed to feel tainted or spoiled. No matter how much you wanted him, how much he claimed he wanted you from the very start, you wouldn’t be that kind of woman who stole someone’s man, and therefore you would not confess to anything else that lay hidden away in your heart.

Minho left quietly. The battle was over, and you broke down on the floor.

Heavy and loud sobs escaped your quivering lips in a poor attempt to dissipate the pain that expanded in your chest. Your cries echoed into the open loft until you couldn’t stand the sound of your voice and wasting tissues, but your body wouldn’t let up. So, you transferred yourself to the bathroom, running a hot shower and curling up on the tile until the water ran cold. Here, your cries were muffled by the artificial rain, just as you had cried into the storm that ugly night long ago.

You called in sick the following day.

–

For the next quarter, you were happy you were swamped with work, for once. That meant waking up early, taking the train when the sun had barely risen, and leaving when it had long gone to sleep. It was the same for most people in the office and you were blessed with not having to conjure up a lie to get away from San’s advances to get you to happy hour.

In sum, you hoped it meant you’d be too busy to think of him, but when you had only a single moment, a single second of freedom, he invaded every bit of you. He was a virus, a parasite, sucking the life out of you like he was reminding you what you desired that once was within arms reach was now lost forever. Like Icarus, you fell from the ether into despair, surrounded by darkness from the absence of the sun in your only moments outside of the office. On days when you were off, you had begged your boss to let you come in, to distract you with some enrichment of any stupid task even if it meant gluing together inadvertently shredded proprietary documents for sixteen hours, but HR would catch on too quickly, was what he said.

You hoped to fall hopelessly in this troposphere of purgatory forever, operating through the days on autopilot, but your heart had sunk to your gut and it ached to land on the earth to end the pain. Just as you were getting the hang of flowing with the wind, Minho called once. Then, he called twice. On the third, you almost answered, but when your eyes welled and you struggled to breathe, you figured it was your body’s reaction to falling faster and further beneath the clouds. You spent those nights he called curled up in some corner of your home under a multitude of blankets waiting for the headache and heartache to subside, but by then the night turned to dawn and time was limited.

Chaeryoung would call, too; she’d text; she’d send you food, coffee, and chocolates, and much of it went cold because any sight of food made you nauseous. Lately, you moved so slow that sustenance wasn’t a necessity anymore, nor was it a pleasure. She was always quite the worrywart, so you tried to answer as much and as vaguely as you could, but at one point it was too exhausting to keep up the lie and you gave up, leaving her with one-worded answers that didn’t satisfy either party.

And so you continued to fall; continued to cry, rot, and falter when all you had done was taste forbidden fruit.

His birthday approached faster than you could get over him.

For a while, no one seemed to mind your absence besides Chaeryoung and Minho, who had called to see if you were attending any of the last-minute get-togethers or planned reservations in the recent month. The one big one you regretted missing was Chan’s birthday, who was rightfully miffed, but you hoped the gift you shipped would make up for it. You kept up with social media, though, and liked all the pictures that came from those nights.

Each post, you’d look for him. You’d admire what he was wearing; you’d wonder what cologne he was wearing; you’d imagine the way his eyes lit up when Karina walked in the room. But she wasn’t in any of the photos.

You didn’t tell anyone what transpired the second time with Minho. It was too embarrassing to have fallen for him twice, which sent feminism back at least a decade. You were going to conjure up some work-related lie to get out of his birthday celebration, but Chaeryoung wouldn’t allow it and even went as far as messaging San for confirmation about your work schedule.

In a huff, she busted through to your home before you could reject her kindness. Normally, your girl was all smiles and full of expressions, but tonight she was strict and stern, which meant she was mad. Very mad.

“I need you to not message my coworkers, please,” you said as she filtered through your closet. “I don’t want a meeting with HR on Monday.”

She didn’t turn to face you when she snapped, “It felt like you were lying, so I had to double check.”

“I wasn’t lying. It was busy, but we just lightened up after the deadline yesterday.”

“So, why couldn’t you tell me that?”

“I needed an excuse to not go tonight.”

She shook her head, clearly frustrated with how insufferable you were being. She turned to you with glossy eyes and you regretted avoiding her lately. “Aren’t I your friend?”

Her having to ask really stung. “You’re my best friend.”

“Then can’t you tell me why you disappeared for three months?”

“I… it’s hard, Chaer…”

“For God’s sake, _____, you’re thirty. Act like it, and use your words!”

“I can’t,” your voice cracked, “I can’t see Minho.”

Her face softened, realizing maybe that night when she left you with someone you saw as a stranger was not what a best friend did. You watched her scan through your slumped posture and sunken eyes before she lunged and hugged you tightly. Tears burned, the feeling of gentle humanity fulfilling your highest hierarchy of needs overflowing all your emotions.

“What happened?” she whispered.

“We kissed,” you whispered back.

“And?”

“I kissed back.”

“But?”

“He’s not mine.”

She pushed you to arms length, eyes knitting sternly. “I think you should go tonight.”

“Chaer -”

“Trust me. You might regret it. It’s his thirtieth, after all.” She pushed away the hairs that cling to your forehead before running to grab some make up. “Let me do your make-up! It’ll be like your twenty-first all over again.”

She sat you down on your bed and began to dab away at the color-correcting pallet. A box of tissues lay next to her so she could catch the tears before they fell. She created a large pile in the end.

“Do you want him to be yours?” she asked after a long moment of silence.

You wanted to smell him on your clothes, adore him in your dreams, and wake up next to him. You want him to be yours, only yours, and to not have to share him with someone who he also chose. Under this sanguine circumstance, still, you smiled at this very thought, because of course the answer was, “Yes.”

And she, too smiled, her own tears forming while she dabbed yours with another fist full of tissues. “Then, go to him.”

“But -”

“_____,” she breathed sternly, sniffling a bit. “You stupid, stupid people-pleaser. Fight for yourself, for once.”

When you thought the battle was long over, little did you know you were still fighting all this time.

Despite trying not to think of him, as his birthday approached, the calendar terrorized you to get him a gift. Just in case, you know? It was a fancy Nakiri knife whose steel was decorated in waves. The Internet told you that a chef’s knife was similar to that of a samurai’s sword, so only the highest quality of Damascus steel was preferred. As you held the box in your hand at his front steps, your mind and heart kept battling with each other and debated whether or not getting a personal gift was too intimate versus a gift card to some generic restaurant to establish a boundary.

But wasn’t the boundary already too blurry, anyways?

Chaeryoung pushed you inside the already-unlocked door. All the boys and their partners and Chaeryoung’s now-official real man were already there surrounding the island. Minho, who just had a grin on, dropped it quickly upon seeing you come in and straightened his back. It’s like deja vu from your birthday.

Karina wasn't present.

Your body’s instinct was to turn and run out the door, but Chaeryoung anticipated your every move and was quick to block you. She squeezed your hand and tugged you further inside. You greeted the boys and their partners first, who all said a variation of, ‘long time, no see,’ before reaching Minho. His expression was still starstruck and confused. He didn’t appear angry. Perhaps it was a feeling worse than that, which could not be translated through his face.

With sweaty hands, you handed him the small rectangular box. “Happy birthday.”

He was hesitant to take it, as if to question the possibility of diffusion of poison through the skin. His hesitancy allowed you to get a whiff of his bourbon vanilla cologne. “Thank you.”

“Oh, so you’ll come for Minho’s birthday, but not mine?” Chan pouted.

“Some things are worth coming out for,” you retorted.

The night went on and you played your role as an onlooker in the background, hoping to blend in with the walls and remain unnoticed so as to not ruin the night. You watched him and the boys shove each other playfully and inhale any and all food Minho made. Who’s to say that thirty was old when the epitome of youth was in the souls of a group of hungry boys? Conversations and debates picked up from when they last saw each other. Some of them filled you in and others forced you to answer without knowing the majority opinion. Laughs and giggles filled the kitchen and even when it seemed that Minho didn’t want to whenever you answered, he couldn’t help himself from smiling at your ridiculous answers, though he stopped when he’d catch you watching him.

As the clock ticked forward, your anticipation for Karina to pop in at any moment dwindled. Maybe she was also having a rough quarter three and taking a late night at the office, but to miss her boyfriend’s thirtieth was… a choice, even if they were fighting or some other strange reason. But then four hours turned to six hours and then it was, ‘damn, it’s already 2:00 AM?’ and she never came.

“Are you ready to go?” Chaeryoung asked at the front door.

Minho was now alone in the kitchen and there were a lot of dishes left to wash. You should help him.

“No,” you said. “I’ll call you later.”

She had a hard time hiding her grin as she left.

You approached him slowly like how you’d approach an angry cat because he was scrubbing the dishes a little too furiously. He didn’t look up despite knowing what you were up to.

“Can I help?” you asked.

Still, he refused to look at you, but he handed you the sponge. Well, that was progress, right?

Dishes and clean up were completed in silence. No chit-chat, no music, just the sound of running water and dishes clinking in the cupboards. The task was finished in good time, and just before you decided that your stay was long overdue, he pulled another deja vu card.

“What are you doing here?” he mumbled to the floor.

“It’s your thirtieth birthday. Chaeryoung told me to come.”

“You could’ve said no.”

“I could’ve.”

A salty laugh - or perhaps a scoff - was uttered. He was tired, you were tired, and the air was cold and stale. The topics orbited like a satellite, coming ‘round for another turn for a different thirtieth celebration, if either of you would even call it that.

Minho let out a big sigh. “Only you can disappear for three months and come back into open arms.”

The words arranged sounded like a compliment, but it was clearly the opposite. “I don’t expect to be forgiven.”

“No, you shouldn’t. I tried calling you.”

“I know.”

“Texting. E-mailing. Fuck, even snail mailing!”

“I know…”

He threw his hands in the air, as he did whenever he was frustrated, and turned to take a breather from your nonchalance. You were supposed to be fighting for him, not letting him slip away like this, but why was this so hard when loving him came easily?

“I shouldn’t have come over that night,” he said after returning. “I was trying too hard to be friends again and I crossed a point where I couldn’t return from.”

“Isn’t that the story of our friendship?”

“Is that how you feel?”

“We were never really just friends, were we?” you teased.

“No,” he admitted softly, “we never were.”

Your eyes met for the first time that night. His were red and puffy, and he looked like he hadn’t slept in three months.

You swallowed the rock in your throat. “Where’s Karina?”

“I don’t know. I broke up with her a while ago.”

Your chest felt tight and your voice bubbled out a garbled, “Why?”

And his mirrored, to the point where he had to clear his throat. “I don’t love her anymore.”

“So, is it true? Is it better to have loved and lost?”

“I wouldn’t exchange my days with her for anything.”

It didn’t make sense; it just didn’t. When someone loved that deeply, how could they throw that person away so easily?

“I’m sorry,” was all you could say.

“I’m not.” He cleared his throat. “I loved her and she loved me. It was fulfilling, and now it’s not. It’s just how it is.”

“Isn’t that painful?”

“If it means I get to feel like I’m flying, I think I can handle it.”

The concept, the idea of that, was just too hard to grasp. It took your wax wings melting to realize that the journey upwards was worth the descent.

“Enough about my failures,” he said hoarsely, “What about you? How… how are you doing?”

How were you supposed to admit that tonight was the first night you had a proper meal? That sleep only came under the influence of some generic-brand silver liquor? That you plucked a fist full of grey hairs the day before? Would admitting to vulnerability prove that you were fighting for this? For him? Or would it make you look pathetic?

“I’ve been doing fine.”

The centers of his brows scrunched together and his lips pursed. He inhaled heavily, his sniffles echoing through his quiet home.

“Are you?” he stuttered, voice distorted and desperate. “Really?”

No, of course not, and that much was clear when you started to cry.

“Because,” he continued, “if you can’t tell, I’m… dying on the inside.”

“Because of me?” you whispered, feeling the weight of your actions collapsing.

“Because of you. It’s always because of you. Everyday for the past ten years. It’s always been you.”

“Why couldn’t you forget me? Why? When you were the one to throw me away?”

“How!” he cried out. “How could I forget about you, when all I wanted was you?”

“You wanted to change me! You wanted me to abandon my career.” “I wanted you to try!”

“And you were right!” Sobs choked in your chest. “You were right. If I loved you, I should have fought for you. I should have tried harder. And I really shouldn’t have admitted those feelings to you when you were not mine. For everything that I’ve done, I’m so, so sorry.”

“You should be. You are so mean,” he hissed, pointing harshly. “You torture me.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Even when I close my eyes, I see you.”

“I’m sorry -”

“I named my fucking bar after your favorite flower! And now you stand here in my home asking me to forget about you? How am I supposed to even begin doing that, hm? How, when everything around me reminds me of you?”

Your sobs were visceral and messy, and you buried your face in your hands. Maybe tears held the youth Ponce de Leon searched his whole life for the way yours could fill the fountain in minutes and how wiping them took away two decades of your life.

“I’m going to ask you once more,” he whispered. “One last time, and I’ll leave it be forever because I’m fucking tired. Do you think of me as often as I think of you?”

You caved in when all else went wrong and there was nothing else to hide. “Everyday.”

“Do you want me as much as I want you?”

“No,” you replied, “Because I need you. Now, let me ask you: do you want to kiss me as much as I want to kiss you?”

His lips quivered before he laughed and you do, too, because that was the cringiest thing you’ve ever said. He held your face, that precious face of yours that he adored so much, dabbing away your tears. His eyes fluttered to your lips, a habit he couldn’t shake off after all these years.

“I need you to kiss me,” he demanded.

He tasted like honey and his lips fit yours like the second half of a two-piece puzzle. This was slow and deliberate, no longer going at the crushing speed of fervent passion because you had all the time in the world together now, and Minho was always the type of man to take his time. You couldn’t stand to leave his lips even for air and they ghosted his only for a few seconds before you tip-toed and pressed yourself deeper against him. Your hands were occupied with gripping his shirt at his waist to keep him in place. When you felt his smile on your lips, you grinned back and held him by his beautiful face.

“I need you to stay,” he formed on your lips.

“All I need is you,” you answered.

Even while traveling to his bedroom, both of you refused to separate as you bumped into furniture.

“We should take this slow,” he mumbled, fidgeting with the hem of your shirt.

“Get acquainted with each other, or whatever,” you concurred after removing his belt.

“Maybe get coffee some time?” he asked into the crook of your neck.

“Or a drink? I know this really cute bar called ‘DAHLIA’.”

He threw you onto his bed. After removing his shirt, he crawled on top. “I think I’ve heard it.”

“Oh yeah?” You undid his pants zipper. “I know the bartender. A little narcissistic, though; he thinks he’s so hot.”

He trailed kisses down your lips, to your neck, to your sternum, to your stomach, until the top of your panties where his fingers hooked. “I know he is.”

You called Chaeryoung the next afternoon. At first, she scolded you for not texting her when you got home, but when she checked your location during the call, she screamed so loud that Minho dropped the spatula while making your breakfast.

The sanguine satellite would continue to orbit her world and revolve her life around his happiness; and he would continue to do the same.

#lee minho #lee minho imagines #skz #stray kids #stray kids fic #stray kids imagines #lee know fic #lee know x reader #romance #friends-to-strangers-to-lovers #angst #emotional hurt with comfort #a doozy................. my longest one yet me thinks #nawt to bring in one piece but the way i screamed TAKT looking at that minho pic yeah

99 notes · View notes

sweet1delusi0ns · 2 days

Text

Naruto boys insecurity’s

──☆*:・ﾟ

!Angst!

Characters: Naruto🦊,sasuke🗡️,Itachi🥀, kakashi🍃, kiba🐺, shikamaru🀄️,shino🪲,neji🎋,Lee🥋,choji🍥,gaara⏳,kankuro🪆

Naruto🦊-*

He’s grown up an outcast so he’s slightly insecure anyways (poor thing). He thinks he’s a bother to you sometimes and gets himself in a slump. You noticed how hes been rather quiet with you, not asking for anything, not begging for cuddles or kisses, you knew something must have been wrong. And it was confirmed when you over heard him talking to himself in the mirror, basically just insulting himself

“Why cant i just do better…” “why do I have to be so annoying…everyone thinks I’m annoying…probably even y/n. They could do so much better why m-” “NARUTO DONT YOU DARE FINISH THAT SENTENCE” you bust down the door causing naruto to quickly wipe his teary eyes “hey y/n! W-what do you mean?” “You know what I mean naruto.” You reach for his cheek to make sure he keeps his eyes on you “your not a bother naruto. And you deserve me as much as I deserve you! Why are you saying this?” He’s in full blown tears now, ugly crying and everything “e-everyone already thinks that way about me I-I thought you would think the same after a w-while” he sniffs “foxy…do I need..to show you how much you mean to me?” His eyes widen at the fact that he actually means something to you. For the rest of the night you never left him alone once, you spoiled him so much more that normal which made him feel so much better. He loves youuuuuu

Sasuke🗡️-*

Also was treated like an outcast but it didn’t affect him in the way it affected naruto. He doesn’t really think he’s a bother, if anything he’s scared that you think your the bother, since he’s so “cold” towards you sometimes he’s scared your going to leave or think he doesn’t love you anymore. Once it got so overwhelming for him he had teary eyes for hours just thinking about how he acts, he decided he needed to tell you. Once he found you he ran towards you and engulfed you in a big hug. You thought this was adorable or him being silly until you felt something wet on your shoulder followed by a broken breath

“S-sasuke? What’s wrong…Are you crying?” You could hear a sad whimper coming from him. “I love you. I-I love you so much y/n please don’t forget. No matter how I act I-” “I know. Baby I know. I love you too, what’s this about, your scaring me?” He didn’t dare remove his tear stained head from your shoulder “I know I’m…mean s-sometimes but-” it finally clicked for you why he was so upset all of a sudden “sasuke… your not mean! And I know you love me no matter how you act.” “I..just thought…no one understands how I truly feel. I just Need you to know…t-that I do love you” he pulls away from your shoulder to wipe his eyes before turning away from embarrassment. He felt you wrapping your arms around him causing him to jump. “I’m sorry y/n. I’m just over reacting” “no don’t. Don’t say that… I think we should lay down. You need to relax do you need me to help you? I know you feel…weak” he takes a deep breath “please y/n… yes” you both walk together to your bed. Trust me when I tell you he is going to feel a lot better after some comfort *wink*

Itachi🥀-*

He just feels… worthless sometimes. He just doesn’t feel worthy of good things that happen in his life, aka you. He doesn’t feel worthy of you. But he is very open with you unlike others, he tells you what’s wrong no matter what.

“Y/n. I have uhm… I have some feeling I would like to share.” “Of course Love, what’s up?” “I…” You gaze softens realizing he’s going to get upset “I don’t feel worthy.” “Oh…tachi… come here” you pat the spot next to you but instead he took your lap instead, he reaches in for a hug before speaking up again “tell me you love me. Please. And tell me I’m worthy…” “you are the love of my life. And you are worthy of that love. No matter what you think you deserve love.” That is all he needs to hear. Although he gets very upset you can always calm him down. It does happen more often but you do not care. Anything to make him feel better.

Kakashi🍃-*

We all know he’s very attractive but that doesn’t mean he thinks the same. He doesn’t like his scar, he doesn’t like the story it holds and he doesn’t like the look of it. He can hold back the insecurity in battle because he knows it’s not worth dying because he thinks it’s ugly, but he cant hold back the insecurity on a day to day basis with you, he gets extremely timid with you. You see him with the mask off all the time so it’s kinda funny that you rarely see him without something covering his eye. But you just thought he forgets it’s there so you didn’t think about insecurity, but when you walk in on him washing his face he almost instantly covered his eye with his palm you knew something was wrong

“Ay? Why you covering that cute face?!” “Aha thanks y/n” he chuckles trying to make you ignore it yet he still kept his hand up “serious what’s with your hand?” “Well..ah you know..” he points to his eye with his other hand “what your scar? Babe I don’t care” he smiles softly before replying “I care…” “take your hand away” “I’d rather not-” “kakashi.” Groans “yes y/n…” he drops his hand and you let out a content sigh “there’s my baby” you grab his face with both hands and kiss his scar softly “you don’t find it odd?” He looks away while blushing “no kakashi I don’t find it odd because I love you.” He flashes a smile before turning back to the mirror with a weird look still on his face, to lighten the mood you grabbed him my the cheeks to shake his head back and forth before giggling at him. “Cutiee” you comment before kissing his beauty mark then walking back out the door.

Kiba🐺-*

He’s sensitive, he may be a big joker but if someone else says the wrong thing he will not be happy, normally the only thing he doesn’t like being called is a mutt or a dog. It makes him feel ashamed of him family quirk. Just because he loves animals doesn’t mean he is one right? He started thinking maybe he is just a dog. A Dirty, annoying, unfunny mutt. He started to feel like foolish for loving a dog so much, but he can’t help it it’s the family he was born into.

He has been rather distant from akamaru, still taking him on mission but recently he hasn’t been letting his puppy in the house as much anymore and he gets upset when you let him in instead. “Why did you let him in the house y/n!” “His a good boy he won’t chew up furniture if anything you would!” You we’re just trying to lighten the mood but it didn’t help “akamaru outside now!” He commands “come on why don’t you want him inside??” “You don’t need two mutts in the house y/n” this confused you for obvious reasons “two mutts? Are you talking about yourself? Your not…your not a dog thought?” He crosses his arms in protest “tell that to my friends, Or anyone because for some reason they all think I am a dog stuck in human form and it’s getting old.” You chuckle nervously “your not? If your talking about your dog like features and fighting style it’s just your quirk? It’s not your fault you can’t choose” he lowers his head “even you think I’m a dog sometimes!” “No baby. I dont I think your a human just with some animal features but most of your family is like that?” “If you don’t think I’m an animal why do you call me names like puppy.” He’s stretching, he loves it when you call him that he’s just in a mood “I call you that because you love attention and can’t go a day without seeing your loved ones. Plus your as cute as a pup!” His shoulders relax finally realizing he shouldn’t be upset over this. “I just feel ashamed of who I am sometimes y/n I’m sorry.” “Don’t be sorry. I love who you are if that makes it better” he chuckles “yeah…it kind of does make it better honestly…can you kiss me..?” He smile at his sudden change of mood “of course!”

Shikamaru🀄️-*

He knows he’s good looking but he also knows he’s not the best, he also knows your absolutely stunning, so it gets to him sometimes without realizing is, he changes his look every now and then to see if it would make him feel better. Maybe make him more attractive to you he hopes

“Dear could you turn around please?” “Sure shika whats u-” you stop dead in your tracks with a shocked look on your face “your hair is down!!!” You exclaim, the only time you see his hair down is when he is sleeping, you’ve never seen it down when he’s awake “I know, I’m trying something, does it look good?” You giggle “You always look good darling, just not use to it that’s all” you walk over to grab a handful of his hair which was slicked back but not up in a ponytail anymore. “Well I think you look handsome no matter what” he groans “don’t lie to me does it make me look worse?” You give him a nasty look “worse? You say that as if you already look bad…?” “Well eh-” “well what? Your very attractive Shika do you think other wise?” He puts his hands in his pockets “uhm sometimes-” “oh come on!” You grab his face “your soooo handsome no matter what you do with your hairrrr” you tease. He continued to make eye contact with you while a smile grows on his face. “…can I put a little braid in your hair?” “No” “Aw man.”

Shino🪲-*

He’s ok with his looks and doesn’t feel like a burden on you, oddly enough the only thing he’s insecure about is his voice. He thinks he sounds funny sometimes and doesn’t like how raspy it is, that’s why sometimes he doesn’t talk to you that much. Sometimes all he responds with is either nodding his head or shaking it which makes you feel bad

“What do you feel for dinner love bug?” “…” you looked around because maybe he left the room but no, he just didn’t respond. “Uhm hello???” “…” “are you hungry?” He shakes his head yes “with words please?” He looks around before responding quietly “yes I’m hungry” you giggle not quiet knowing what’s up with him “why are you so timid right now?” He finally speaks up “do you think I sound funny y/n?” “Uh no? Why” “sometimes I feel like my voice isn’t that pleasing.” “It sound pleasing to me-” he lightened up at the compliment “really?” “Yes of course!” When he’s insecure he normally gets over it fast, he’s rational and knows when he’s just being silly

Neji🎋-*

He knows he can choose his own destiny, he just wish the preset plan for him was burned into his forehead. He hated it so much, he was disgusted by it and therefor disgusted with himself. Sometimes you find him crying in the mirror over the symbol plastered onto him. But you always let him know that it doesn’t define him

You could hear cries coming from the bathroom and you couldn’t take it anymore so you decide to knock “sweetheart…are you crying?” He knew there was no point in lying anymore “y-yes..” “may I come in?” You could hear a cracked “mhm…” coming from the other side or the door so you walk in, immediately pulling him into your chest. “What happened. Did Someone do this?” He pulls away from your chest just to look back to the mirror to cover his mark while his lip quivered. You finally realized what was happening. “Give me your hand please..” he obliged lowering his hand. You grabbed his cheek and gave a very long forehead kiss. “Your worth more than this mark Neji.” You mumble against his head. You decided the best thing to do is go to bed and give him more love so that’s just what you did

Lee🥋-*

He may seem strong so it was shocking to you when he confided in you about how he’s insecure about almost everything about him (poor thing) he try’s to stay strong but he can’t help but get vulnerable with you

All you were doing was giving him love but he just felt unworthy of it. “My handsome, strong, perfect boy!~” kiss “well I don’t know if those words are accurate but thank you my precious!” You huff at his self doubt “don’t say that, your all of those things?” He laughs nervously “I don’t think so heh” “you are! You don’t think your handsome or strong…?” You frown “well uhm y/n…It obvious I’m not the best looking, and yeah I’m strong but…I could always be stronger.” He looked down at his feet in shame “Lee…take it back.” “W-what” “take it back. No one is allowed to insult my baby like that, not even himself.” He thought you were just joking until he looked up into your eyes to see the seriousness that laid in them, he could see tears forming in your eyes. “Please Lee. Take it back.” “I-I…I take it back y/n I’m sorry” “please…don’t ever say things that that again”

Choji🍥-*

He’s always been bullied because of his weight so of course he will be extremely insecure about it and anxious when your trying to love up on him, you knew he was insecure about it and you always told him it did it matter but you never realized to much it really affects him until your further into the relationship and you started to be more physically affectionate, he loves the affection just hates the body that it receiving it. All you were trying to do was hold him after a long day but he seemed so scared of if and you had to ask why

“Cmon let me hug you!” “No y/n..” you pout “why not! I wanna hold my fluff ball!” He cups his hands together then proceeded to look at the floor “I don’t think holding me is even possible…” your pout turned into a confusion “uh what do you mean choj?” He pinched at his stomach to hint at what he was talking about since he was to shy to actually tell you “oh…Choji you don’t need to worry about that I don’t care!” “I care because it means I can’t do certain things! How are you supposed to hold me!” You scoff “I’m confident I could carry you like a baby if I needed too.” “Your just saying that to make me feel better…” he crosses his arms and puffs his cheeks up out of timidness “I’m being serious Choji! I could totally carry you! Your not as big as you think you are.” He closes his eyes so tears dont form “I’d like to see you try y/n, you won’t be able t-” since his eyes were closed he didn’t see you walk over to his side, he only realized when he felt your arm latch around his shoulders and your other cupping around his legs. He open his eyes right in time to realize you just picked him up bridal style. He gasps in reaction, he turns to your face to see not a single ounce of struggle on your face “I told you! Your not that heavy choj!” This Moment honestly cured almost all his insecurity on that subject for a very long time. And sometimes he thinks “maybe she’s just really REALLY strong” he still loves the thought behind your actions. “Heh uhm…I guess maybe I’m not. Thank you sweetie!” “Anytime bubs~” with that you place him back down on his feet and give him a very passionate kiss

Gaara⏳-*

Most of his life he was basically controlling by either others or his inner demon so he didn’t have time to worry about appearance. But ever since he finally felt in control of his own life he now worries about his appearance sadly. He doesn’t like the mark on his head, he doesn’t really like his hair either and feels like his facial features just look wrong on him. He’s very good at hiding things so you didn’t realize until you overheard a conversation with him and his brother, he figured since kankuro is considered attractive maybe he should ask him for advice!

You were wondering around trying to find Gaara to ask him god knows what until you finally hear his voice along with kankuros, you walked behind the door about to knock until gaara’s question caught your attention. “So is there anything that could make me more ‘attractive’ or something along the lines of that?” “I don’t know? Maybe try face paint chicks dig it” you could hear a sigh leaving Gaara “I don’t want to attract ‘chicks’ I just want to attract y/n.” “What makes you think she doesn’t already feel attracted to you?” “I don’t know, I just feel like if I find myself unattractive maybe she does too.” That’s enough, you have to stop this. You knock on the door making them both look at it, you swing the door open and immediately look at gaara which was all it took for kankuro to take the hint “I’m just gunna..goooo…” you and him exchange nods before he leaves. Once the door shut you look back at gaara “what was all that?” “Oh so you heard?” “Yes gaara I heard, why do you find yourself unattractive? And why are your going to your skanky brother for help?” He turns his head to continue speaking “I can’t explain why I feel that way about myself, but I went to my brother because I know he is considered attractive to others.” You sit next to gaara and grab his chin to make him look at you. You lean closely to speak “how could you not love this face~” you whisper almost seductively while you drag your thumb across his cheek bone. “What don’t you like…?” His breath hitched out of fear of spilling his insecurity’s. “I guess…I don’t like the mark on my head, and I don’t like my nose much either, I also don’t really care for my hair it makes me look like a clown sometimes.” He’s waiting for you to agree with him but instead you lean closer to kiss everything he listed, first his little nose, then his marking and then you drag your hand through his hair which made him flushed. “Well I like Everything about you…” he finally makes eye contact with you, with red cheek. He took a big deep breath to reply “ok…thank you y/n. That makes me feel a bit better” you reach in for a hug which he gladly accepted!

Kankuro🪆-*

Even though he seems so hot and confident he’s much like his brother, sometimes he doesn’t like his bare face. He has make up on almost all day se rarely do you see him without any on, and when you do see him bare faced he’s weirdly shy which isn’t like him.

You both were in bed after work and you were just having a conversation, mostly it was just you talking which was weird because he’s normally high maintenance. “I couldn’t believe she had the audacity to say something like that, what do you think babe did she have a good point?” “I don’t know” his head is slightly turned to the side opposite of you which made it almost impossible to see him, he just washed his face so he’s completely bare faced yet won’t even look at you. “Babe? Cmon atleast look at me when I’m talking” “UGHHHHHHHH fine.” He turns to You shyly avoiding eye contact before replying “she’s in the wrong for saying that honestly-” you laugh “that’s exactly what I’m saying!……” you stared at his cute bare face for a little to long which made him anxious “what are you looking at y/n!” “I’m looking at your cute facee *boop*” he pulled away from your finger just to cross his arms “whateverr” you didn’t know at the time he wasn’t feeling his best but later he did tell you. But he still loves the compliment you give no matter how insecure he is at the time. Only you can make him feel better tbh

127 notes · View notes

nerdlingmerchling · 2 days

Text

Jesper and Dima : a Wesper Essay

I feel like we, as a Fandom, don't speak enough about that scene. Perhaps, it's because we know that Wesper is end-game and we can't see Jesper with anyone else than Wylan. Also, we might think that the purpose of that scene is only to establish Jesper as a queer character, and as a "player" who lives in the moment and has a string of anonymous hookups. HOWEVER, I'll argue that this scene has, in fact, everything to do with Wesper and reveals a lot more about Jesper as a character, about his aspirations, than we might give it credit for.

First of all, for what's supposed to be the aftermath of a "meaningless" quickie between strangers, this scene is incredibly tender. Jesper is being so earnest and gentle; in the way he speaks ; the way he kisses Dima goodbye, the way he touches his face, like he wants to imprint it in his memory. There's real emotion there ; real care, however fleeting.

But the true impact of that scene is in the way Jesper looks at Dima (props to Kit's acting there. We love you, Kit). There is so much longing in Jesper's eyes: it's plain to see, and almost painful to watch. He's probably not longing for Dima himself ; they haven't known each other long enough, but he's longing for a meaningful connection, something of lasting substance ; for companionship...for love. Jesper knows and understands that this wasn't meant to be (he says so himself). And yet, there's grief in the way he watches Dima leave. Why? BECAUSE IT'S NOT THE FIRST TIME THIS HAPPENS TO HIM.

It's not the first time Jesper has a lover walk out on him. For him, watching Dima go is exactly like waking up alone after his first night with Wylan : it's the rejection and the sudden severing of a bond that barely had time to form. I'm going to quote my friend Ras :"Jesper is having war flashbacks" and yes, that's exactly what this is. Maybe he's not specifically thinking about Wylan in that instant, but that kind of hurt and disappointment is still a familiar feeling to him.

Yes, of course, Jesper is a flirt. Yes, of course he loves sex. And there's something enjoyable, exciting, and thrilling for him when he engages in impromptu sexual encounters with strangers, but Jesper is also someone who's deeply insecure and in constant need of validation. When his lovers walk out on him, he can't help but feel unlovable: good enough for a shag, but not good enough to keep around. What he truly wants is for someone to care about him: truly, deeply, meaningfully. But it's easier for his self-esteem to jump from one hook up to the next, because at the end of the day, he can tell himself he chose this lifestyle. When Wylan reminds him of his "reputation", saying "I thought someone like you wouldn't want anything more ", Jesper doesn't contradict him, but he's still stung by those words. Jesper is a player who doesn't really want to be one. At his core, this is not him. It's just a self-defense mechanism.

I feel like his brief time with Dima was sort of a tipping point for Jesper. He had no choice but to acknowledge the longing and the need for something more.

And then there's Wylan. To be able to reconnect with a past lover was an unexpected second chance for Jesper ; a wink from Lady Luck. He wasn't going to give up so easily this time.

In other words, Jesper/Dima walked so Jesper/Wylan could run. So I'm grateful for that scene in season one, which might seem inconsequential and gratuitous at first glance, but truly isn't.

Thanks for your attention.

#marie overanalyzes stuff #wesper #jesper fahey #dima the stablehand #wylan van eck #wylan x jesper #six of crows #shadow and bone

77 notes · View notes

yuri-is-online · 3 days

Note

Imagine that Yuu and the (father of Yutu of your choice) don’t get together at first.

Either is Yuu who doesn’t accept because of their circumstances (they don’t know they won’t go home yet) or the Twst guy is just not done processing all his emotions about them.

Let’s say their first confession is at a balcony, Yutu observes from afar but doesn’t linger, he is just “YES! Finally!”

And later he goes to Yuu and he just “Sooo I heard you and (his father) are a thing—“

“What? No, who the hell said that?”

Yutu:

Man is now desperate to know what the hell went wrong.

You know good and well Ace! Yutu watches this happen three separate times in the space of a week and he has a stroke each fucking time

I feel like this makes a lot of sense for Leona and Azul's Yutus. Leona obviously knows Yutu is his kid, so in this timeline he isn't so worried about the rejection now but he does wonder about how the o.g. timeline Leona took it. Yuu's worried about there being a chance for them to go home and leave him actually really touches his heart and further convinces him that he really does love them. They care enough about him to know what his insecurities are and want to be considerate of that. How cute... is what he wants to say but it does feel nice to be cared about like this for once. Leona! Yutu is super confused? Because he was sort of under the impression that his dad hated being rejected but he seems almost even more secure with Yuu's feelings? And Yuu is very flustered so maybe he's right???

Maybe it's the opposite with Azul where the twins "help" him by outing Yuu's feelings and they have a really tense conversation where Yuu reassures Azul they don't want anything from him in a contractual sense. They like him for who he is flaws and all, but if he doesn't like them then that's that. Azul feels sick to his stomach because that's... not what he was expecting? He was half wanting them to beg for his affections and fully expecting it to be a lie and now he's even more confused than before... Meanwhile his Yutu feels like he's learning more about Grim's relationship with Yuu than his dad's because he drags him to Sam's to get ice cream and tissues so they can sit with Yuu and help them feel better. It's cute.

#<3 asks #twisted wonderland x reader #twst x reader #future kid au #leona kingscholar x reader #azul ashengrotto x reader

74 notes · View notes

jeonginsleftcheek · 3 days

Text

Cupid's Shot🩷

pairing: lee felix x reader

genre: fluff, angst, slow burn

word count: 10.4k

description: what happens when Cupid breaks the rules and falls in love with a mortal?

warning/s: there are suggestive parts so mdni! not proofread!

a/n: here i go again with another felix fic and i'm really proud of it, except i feel like the ending is rushed but i had to write it twice cause i accidentally didn't save it the first time jddkdll

but anyways there will be a second part to this, with smut. it will be a continuation on this main fic but could also be read as its own thing.

please reblog if you like it!🩷

Their purpose is simple: bring two destined souls together by helping them get rid of their fears and insecurities, assist them to find the happiness they deserve, the love they would nurture with their soul mate.

Contrary to popular belief and the information in many books, there isn't only one Cupid, there is a whole nation of them, living in another realm, invisible to the eyes of the mortals, but they can see everything. Including the mortals auras, souls and their destined lovers.

The only rule they have to abide by is to not fall in love with a mortal. None of them really questioned it, they're just beings of light, existing to fulfill their purpose, until they disperse into little particles of shiny dust, disappearing into The Great Source Of Light.

They would get their assigned charges and do everything they can to cross them off the list after they manage to finally match them with their loved one.

Felix often wondered about a lot of things, like why was he born a Cupid, was he even born and where he actually came from if he wasn't. He wondered what The Great Source Of Light actually is and where it would take him after he fulfilled his duties. He wondered why wasn't he allowed to fall in love when love was so soft, warm and fuzzy. Wasn't love the ultimate goal? Was this some kind of punishment because of what he did in a past life; to be a mere messenger of love but never be able to experience it?

Ofcourse, he never dared to say anything like that out loud for the fear of what would happen if he did. He's never actually seen any punishments or violence happening in his little world, everything was cheerful and perfect, the Cupids worked and flew around with blushing cheeks and smiles painted on their faces; never complaining, never tiring. But he didn't want to risk it, or seem like he is defying the natural order of things, he is only curious.

Felix gets a scroll with names of his new charges, and he opens up the paper. Scanning over the names as they shine in a white-ish glow off the paper, something calls to him. His eyes flick around until they land on your name. Something inside him blooms, chimes and explodes in little fireworks. He chants your name in his head. It's time to find you. His eyes close and he focuses on your aura. Mixes of purples and blues swirl behind his closed eyelids and he can feel it closer, smell the sweet flowery scent with a hint of petrichor in it.

He opens his eyes and he's transported, his eyes meeting yours but ofcourse you don't see him. Your chin is resting on your palms, elbows perched on the table as you stare a hole into the computer screen in front of you. Felix quickly takes note of the surroundings, the clacking sounds, telephones ringing and chatter in the distance. He's in an office building, and you're sitting in your cubicle, your hair neatly tied and face devoid of any emotions. But he can see your aura, it's swirling and wilding around your frame, painting pretty designs around you. He thinks he's never seen something as beautiful as you are.

"Y/n!"- someone slams a stack of papers on your desk, startling both you and your Cupid, making him float back a little as he observes you.

"These papers need to be finished today."- the woman says, a malicious undertone in her voice.

"B-but it's almost six. I've worked overtime and-"

"It's not my fault you're slow. Next time work during lunch."- the woman turns around, leaving like it's none of her business.

Felix sees you immediately slump in your chair, the pretty blues and purples of your aura dimming down a little as you grip the papers and start going through them. Cupids weren't supposed to feel bad feelings like anger or envy or anything of that sort but Felix somehow felt annoyed at the woman, and moreover he felt bad for you. He wished he could help you get home faster somehow, but he knows he shouldn't meddle into anything except your soul mate.

Speaking of soul mates, as soon as Felix came down from his realm to yours, he couldn't feel another soul that's supposed to be binded to you. That was unusual but not impossible, sometimes charges had their hearts closed off and the Cupids had to try and open up their hearts first before actually connecting them with love.

He dismissed it for now and focused on you, trying to send you a lovely boost of energy so you don't feel too bad. You were tired and stressed, sick od being mistreated at work, seen as less than. There is a lump forming in your throat and tears threating to spill down your cheeks as you keep working. Suddenly, you feel relief, like someone untied the knot inside your chest and you take a deep breath in and somehow feel more energetic to keep working.

It's already past 9pm when you're done and you're beyond exhausted. All you want right now is a nice shower, a warm bowl of noodles and your bed. Felix observes as you tidy your desk and he follows you when you leave the building to your car. The walk through the empty dark parking lot is eerie and Felix can sense the fear creeping up inside you so he floats a little closer to you, his pink soft wings almost touching you. Not that you would feel it even if they did.

Your apartment is small, but it's cozy and clean and it smells like you, like your aura. It makes Felix's senses fuzzy, something he never experienced before. He looks around the living room full of plants you obviously love taking care of, pictures of you and your friends and family, little knick knacks you collect. He does a full turn and comes face to face with you, in your bra and he panics and scrambles away, almost flying into your lamp. The lamp swings ever so slightly and Felix is not sure how his wings have effect on anything physical in this world because they usually don't. He turns away from you giving you your privacy, waiting for you to leave to the bathroom.

When you do, he slowly flies back closer to the lamp and tries to touch it but his hand goes right through it. It was nothing, he sighs, relief washing over him. He keeps looking around, gathering information about his charge so he knows how to help you open up your heart and find love. Some kind of weird feeling washes over him shortly but he shakes it off. You come out of the bathroom, thankfully in your pjs which look adorable on you, Felix thinks as he smiles and watches you.

After your quiet dinner, you get ready for sleep and crawl into your bed, finally relieved to be in your safe space where no one can harm you. Felix ofcourse doesn't want to intrude and be around while you sleep, at least not yet, not when it's to early to enter your dreams. He turns around to fly out, back to his realm but a sniffle stops him. He stays still and listens, another sniffle coming from under your blanket.

A pang hits his chest when he realizes you're crying. He turns back to you and floats closer, the closer he gets, the more pain in his chest he feels. Why is it like this? Felix has always felt emotions of his charges to a certain degree but never this intense. It's almost unbearable to him and he struggles to come closer to you. He tries anyways, shining a little light he made inside his palms to look at you, but you're in the dark and can't see it. But he sees you and you look completely shattered as tears stream down your cheeks, eyes already red from crying. Your lips quiver, your aura fades more into gray and Felix feels what you feel.

He feels used and abandoned, ridiculed and lonely, unloveable. The feelings are so strong that they force him back away from you, tossing him into the wardrobe behind him, making the door rattle. You gasp and scramble into a sitting position, turning on the lamp beside your bed as fast as you can. You swallow in sudden fear as you look around but nothing's there. Felix is still, he's looking at you and he feels so bad that he scared you, especially while you were in a vunerable state. He still has no idea how he managed to make the door rattle or the lamp swing but that scares him too even though he didn't even feel any pain from the impact.

You shake your head and lay back down, turning the lamp off and wiping your tears away. Felix slowly floats towards the window, cautious not to touch or knock anything down. He looks at you one more time before he shimmers himself back into his realm.

"Have you ever moved a physical item in the earth realm?"- Felix whispers to his coworker and friend, Hyunjin, one of the Cupids he was close to.

"What?"- Hyunjin looks at him, his pink lips pouty and eyebrows furrowed in thought.

"Like... like have you ever accidentally made a lamp swing or a door rattle?"- he tries again and Hyunjin chuckles at his friend.

"Did you hit your head somewhere, Lix? We literally can't touch anything, we're not made from the same stuff earth beings and their things are made of."- Hyunjin says, closing his scroll and looking at Felix again.

"Yeah, yeah I know. It was just a stupid question."- Felix says quickly.

"Are you sure?"- Hyunjin squints his eyes at him.

"Yeah, positive. Don't worry about it."- Felix smiles in hopes to get the other Cupid to not ask any further questions since Cupids weren't really capable of lying.

"Eh, alright."- Hyunjin shrugs, opening up his scroll again and Felix sighs in relief. His friend was never one to pry information out of someone or ask incessant questions, which in this moment Felix is thankful for.

He's more than excited to see you again today, hoping you feel better than you did yesterday. He concentrates on your soul and aura, seeking you amongst the 8 billion souls on earth. As soon as he senses you he's transported into... the office bathroom? He's about to fly out because this is a breach of privacy but then he hears a familiar sniffle. There's no way you're crying in the office bathroom stall, is there? Felix slowly floats, looking for the source of the sound until he stops in front of the last door. He inhales and pushes himself through it, his eyes shut tightly. He slowly opens his eyes and squints, praying that you're not in some kind of compromising position.

You're not, you're just sitting on the closed toilet, your face in your hands and you're crying. Felix feels it again, the negative feelings drowning you in sorrow, one especially prominent. You feel excluded, invisible. Unimportant. Cupids don't really have a reason to cry usually, but Felix can feel your pain deeply with all of his being and his eyes water, golden sparkly tears sliding down his freckled cheeks. He reaches his hand towards you, trying to channel anything good through it, simultaneously fighting the bad feelings pushing him away. He knows he's not supposed to touch you or transfer any kind of light into you unless it's a dire soulmate situation but at this moment he doesn't care. He just doesn't want you to feel so sad and hurt so much. He places his palm on the top of your head, gently sliding it towards the back of your head and your head snaps up, your hand touching your hair where he just touched you.

Felix backs away immediately, pulling his hand to his chest as he panics, his big doe eyes wide as you look around in confusion. How did you feel that? You were only supposed to feel the light energy, but you actually felt his touch. Felix panics more when you reach towards him and he floats back out of the stall. Turns out you were just reaching for the door as you swung them open and hurried towards the sink.

Felix's heart beats hard in his chest, a strong fuzzy feeling shimmering in his insides, so dizzying to him that he doesn't even realize he floated right next to you. He gasps and looks at you but luckily you don't see him, you just splashed your face with water and you're looking at your reflection. He wonders what's happening to him, because a charge never made him feel like this nor did they feel him as you apparently did. He didn't even know who to ask about these things, and his friend Hyunjin seemed to know as much if not less than he does.

Felix throws that in the back of his mind for now, his main concern being; what or who made you cry at work? He follows you back to your cubicle and notices a few people gathered around another woman in the office, they're talking and throwing glances at you. Felix floats closer to listen in, even though he shouldn't really be doing that.

"Wow, Natasha, that ring really is beautiful."- one of the woman gushes as she speaks to the so called Natasha.

"I'm glad you're doing a bachelorette party."- one of them squeals.

"And I'm glad you didn't invite that weirdo. She seriously gives me the creeps."- another woman says, and Felix quickly realizes they're talking about you.

"Ugh, who cares about her. Let's talk about the party."- Natasha waves her hand and Felix feels something boiling in his blood, something he never felt before. Something that scares him and makes him wish he could do bad things to anyone who hurts you or makes you cry, but it quickly dissipates when he looks at your face. You look so dejected and he doesn't want you to think you're alone. He flies back to your cubicle and settles right next to you. And you're boiling. With sadness, anger and hurt, you're on the verge of exploding. Felix feels the push you're involuntarily making, pushing him and essentially pushing love away from you. Your aura is in the darker hues of blue and purple, swirling angrily. You stand up and as much as Felix wants you to stand up for yourself, he feels that you're not in the right state of mind and you might get yourself in trouble.

He quickly stands behind you, his hands hovering above your shoulders, scared now to actually touch you so you don't get spooked. He only hovers his hands above, as close to your skin as he can and sends some soothing light energy into your tense muscles. You relax visibly, the feelings of anger subsiding a little. You shake your head and sit down, deciding to ignore the bitches in your office because who really gives a damn about Natasha's wedding? You for sure don't so you go back to your work and Felix sighs behind you.

As you did yesterday, you continue working late into the night, leaving the building last again, crossing the creepy parking lot to your car and Felix follows closely like he did the day before. There's something different about your aura after that bout of anger you had in the office, something wilder brewing inside you. Felix can feel it and for some reason he doesn't recognize the feeling and he's left confused the whole way home as you drive, your hands gripping the wheel harshly.

You're calmer when you walk into your apartment and you do your nightly routine just like you did yesterday while Felix observes you patiently. You take a shower, he waits in the living room, he joins you for dinner and waits for you again in your room while you get ready for bed.

You lay down in your bed and the unfamiliar feeling that floated through you earlier is back. Felix struggles with it, he can't really comprehend the swirling he feels in his gut and he can't wrap his head around it being either a good or a bad feeling. He should leave but his curiosity gets the best of him, especially when you start making noises. Are you crying again?, Felix thinks and floats closer to you slowly only to realize in shock and horror that you're touching yourself.

He gasps, that feeling deep inside him stronger the closer he is to you and he feels like his insides are throbbing. Cupids don't exactly have a body they can touch but they know what sex is, after all that's part of relationships and love. And they also know they shouldn't be intruding on a private moment like this so Felix floats away towards the door, ignoring the fuzziness blurring his senses and vision. He tries to float through the door, the physical barriers never stopping him before, but his forehead collides hard with the door causing him to fall down on his butt, and he groans in pain. Pain? Since when do Cupids feel physical pain from impact like that?, he panics, his hand coming up to rub at his forehead.

"What the hell?"- he hears you say as you sit up and turn your lamp on, your eyes trained on the door. Felix guesses he made a lot of noise, again, and startled you, again.

"If there's a ghost in here now, you're sick!"- you yell out into the room and Felix looks up at you but luckily you don't seem to see him.

"Ugh, ghosts are scary."- he shivers, muttering to himself. You don't hear him, you sigh and lay back down, leaving the lamp on and opting to grab your phone. You open up Instagram, the mood you were in gone now.

Felix lifts up, dusting off the imaginary speckles of dust and glances at you again, feeling embarassed about this whole situation. He's confused about the door and how you managed to hear him smack into it. There's only one person he could ask about these happenings, and he's beyond nervous because of that.

"Hey Lix, how's it going?"- Changbin, one of the more experienced Cupids greets Felix as he makes his way to the Elders. Specifically, one he wants to talk to. Minho. For some reason, everyone is scared of him and there are rumours going around, rumours Felix doesn't even wanna think about because he gets scared easily.

"I- I need to talk to Minho."- Felix gulps and Changbin's smile falters.

"Oh? What for?"- he asks.

"It's personal. About my charge."- Felix answers.

"Ah, you got a tough one? Probably doesn't want to open their heart up for love, hm?"- Changbin wears a small smirk on his face as he plays around with the scroll he holds in his hands.

"Something like that, yeah."- Felix answers.

"You summoned me?"- there's a voice behind Felix and he shivers and turns around quickly, only to be greeted by a very pretty being, one that has sharp eyes and facial features but somehow there is softness underneath all that.

"Y-yes I did. I'm Felix."

"I know who you are. Tell me what you need."- the Elder called Minho talks calmly.

Felix turns to Changbin and he understands and shimmers away from them.

"Well, something weird is happening with my charge."- Felix says, clearing his throat.

"Weird how?"- Minho asks, the white light shining around him almost blinding Felix.

"I can feel her feelings, emotional and physical ones very strongly. So strongly that they managed to hurl me into her wardrobe and... and the door made noise. And then last night... I tried to float through her bedroom door and I banged my head into it."- Felix explains and he gets quieter and quieter as he talks, looking at Minho's face. The expressions Minho made during Felix's speech looked like he went through the five stages of grief in a few seconds.

"Has she heard you or seen you yet?"- Minho asks sternly and Felix is now scared for real.

"Yet? No, I mean no, she didn't. But she felt my touch. At least I think she did."- he mutters the last part.

Minho pinches the bridge of his nose, a long sigh coming out of his mouth.

"Someone screwed up. Again."- he says, annoyed.

"W-what do you mean?"- Felix feels like he's about to cry.

"Okay listen, just keep watching over your charge like you normally would. Create a link with her and infiltrate her dreams, fill them up with love. I'll talk to the others and we'll see what we can do. You just keep doing what you're doing. And don't be scared."- Minho places his hand on Felix's shoulder gently, in hopes of calming the young Cupid down. But nothing about Felix is calm in this moment.

It must be something big if Minho didn't tell him what's happening and he's asking to meet the other Elders. Something seriously bad is happening and Felix can't help but panic. In that moment of distress, he suddenly yearns to be by your side, the sweet scent of your aura, of you enveloping him and caressing him from the inside out. Felix opens his eyes and he's transported into your room. He didn't mean to do that and it startles him, he merely had a thought about you and he was suddenly there.

It's morning in the earth realm, way past your time to go to work but you're still in bed. It must be your day off or the weekend, Felix reckons. He hovers over your sleeping form and looks at you. Your aura is peaceful right now, the blues and purples leaning more to the pastel hues, and a slight silver shimmer between them swirling and dancing slowly. You must be having a good dream, Felix thinks as he smiles and reaches his hand towards you. He knows he shouldn't but he can't help himself. His palm rests on your cheek, and a buzzing feeling goes through him. A feeling he knows too well.

He gasps, retracting his hand as you stir in your sleep. Did you feel it too? His touch? The buzzing, the one that Felix always feels when a charges soulmate is near by. He couldn't believe it, he suddenly felt the other soul binded to you. But it was weird, like it's so close, almost like it's part of him. Something washes over him, a kind of melancholy and he doesn't know what to do with it. Sparkly tears brim at his eyes for a reason unknown to him and you're finally awake.

Your eyes flutter open and you stare straight at Felix, your sleep covered eyes boring into his wide ones. You freeze and he freezes too, his brain short-circuiting at the moment.

"What in the-" - you start and he shimmers away as fast as he can. There's no way. There's no freaking way you just saw him. He hopes he was fast enough so you'd think you were still dreaming. He shimmers back into his realm and accidentally bumps into Hyunjin hard, throwing him off balance.

"Woah! Felix?"- Hyunjin looks at him wide-eyed. "How did you do that?"- he asks.

"Do what?"- Felix's panic spreads wider inside him.

"You pushed me. How did you push me?"- Hyunjin looks confused.

"I- I don't know. I can't explain it right now, I just need to talk to Minho."

"You can't. The Elders are having a meeting. It's something serious by the look of it. Even The Great Source Of Light is attending the meeting. You know it's something bad when they're there."- his fellow Cupid explains.

"Oh my god!"- Felix cries, tears streaming down his cheeks and his friend gasps.

"Oh! You're crying! Why are you crying?"- Hyunjin flails both his arms and wings. He's never seen his fellow Cupids cry like this, especially not the always smiling Felix.

"I can't tell you. I need to go!"- Felix shuts his eyes tightly, concentrating on you again. He hears Hyunjin shouting his name, but it's too late, Felix is transported into your apartment again.

Only this time, it's the living room and you're sitting on the couch, talking to someone on the phone.

"I'm telling you it looked real. He was like some kind of angel. But like Barbie pink version."- you say and Felix accidentally chuckles. He covers his mouth fast but you didn't seem to hear him behind you. He slowly circles the couch to stand in front of you but you look through him.

"Well alright then my dreams are vivid as always. He was kinda cute tho."- you giggle and Felix feels warmness spreading in his face and chest.

"Sure, sure I need to get laid. According to you."- you laugh into the speaker, playing with the hem of your shirt, your legs tucked under one of the decorative pillows on your couch.

"Okay, let me know when you find a normal one."- you chuckle again. "I'll see you soon then. Bye!"

You hang up and shake your head, thinking to yourself that you've really gone mad if you started hallucinating like that. You get up and make your way to your room and Felix follows behind you silently, his senses buzzing again. You open up your closet and start sifting through your dresses. Felix heats up when he realizes you're about to undress. He turns around fast, closing his eyes, trying to be respectful even though there's a strong pull inside him telling him to just turn back around to face you. But he fights it and stays with his back turned to you.

When he's sure you're dressed he whips back around and his eyes land on you, dressed in a pretty dress and checking yourself in the mirror.

"Oh."- Felix gasps, his chest fluttering. He's never seen you dressed like that and his senses start buzzing even more. He's dizzy suddenly so he moves away from you, into the living room. He doesn't want to risk bumping into something or you seeing him again even though he has no idea what actually triggered that.

You finish getting ready and head out, Felix floating behind you. It's a beautiful sunny day and you walk to the park near your house, where your best friend waits for you.

"Y/n!"- Jisung waves at you, getting up from the bench he was sitting on and opening up his arms.

"Sungie!"- you yell back and close the distance, returning the hug.

Felix's lips fall open, and he feels something stirring inside him, something kind of uncomfortable at the sight of you hugging another man like that. You and Jisung part and start walking down the path together. Felix hurries up behind you, trying to put his hand on Jisung's shoulder so he can feel his soul. Jisung's aura is invisible to Felix, since he's not his charge but he can still 'read' his soul only if he manages to make the connection.

"So, how did your date go?"- you ask your friend.

"Which date? The one on Wednesday or the one last night?"- he smirks and you chuckle, smacking his arm and unkowingly startling your Cupid.

"Which ever one was better... or more eventful."- you wiggle your eyebrows.

"Honestly, they were both a snooze. This guy last night almost bored me to death. I'm beginning to think I'll never find my soulmate."- Jisung sighs. Felix's hand is almost on his shoulder.

"Aww, don't say that. I believe that you of all people will actually find your soulmate."- you say.

"I don't see it, unless Cupid personally comes down to earth and finds someone for me."- Jisung jokes and Felix freezes and retracts his hand.

Why did he say that? Did he actually believe in Cupid? Or was he just saying it?

You reach your favorite diner, and Felix manages to float through the door this time while following you. He stands behind your friend's chair as you chat and order, his hands hovering above Jisung's shoulder. He finally places them down, little lights forming from them as he tries to feel around for that familiar buzz and warmness.

But, nothing happens. Jisung doesn't flinch, you keep talking and laughing, and there is no buzz or warmness or love. At least not that kind, Felix can feel that Jisung cares about you as a friend but he isn't your soulmate and Felix feels relieved. Why is he relieved?! He's supposed to find your soulmate, that's his only purpose! He feels confused suddenly, thoughts swirling inside him and he decides - tonight will be the night he will try to infiltrate your dreams.

Felix waits for you to fall asleep instead of shimmering away this evening. When he's sure you're entering deeper into your dreams, he floats closer to you and hovers over you. He places his hands above your head and closes his eyes, concentrating on your energy. Little particles of light shine out of his hands onto your face, warming you up and creating the link your Cupid needs to basically transport himself into your mind.

You're dreaming, at least you think you are but it feels real. More real than any other dream you had before. You're in a field that seems to stretch forever, it's warm and sunny, you're surrounded by beautiful flowers but there's something different about them, different than flowers you see in real life. They're glowing, you realize. The light on their petals glimmers into million different colors, you've never seen anything like it.

"Pretty, isn't it?"- you hear a deep voice behind you and you whip around fast, but you're met with more flowers and grass.

"Who's there? Show yourself!"- you say.

"Not yet."- the voice says. "I don't want to spook you."

"Who are you?"- you ask.

"I'm... someone who's trying to help you open up your heart to love."- the voice reckons.

"Oh? I don't think my heart's closed though."

"Then why do you feel so lonely?"

"Ouch! That's none of your business!"- you feel slightly annoyed at the voice, but this is also just a dream so it must be your subconscious.

"Actually, that is exactly my business-"

"Honestly, I feel crazy talking to a void. Just come out from wherever you're hiding."- you hear a deep sigh and then you see a blinding light. Your arms come up to shield your eyes as you wait for the flickering to subside. When you put your arms down, you come face to face with a beautiful creature. You've never seen anyone as pretty as this creature is, they're practically glowing, their pretty pink wings shimmering and moving lightly as they hover over the ground.

"Hey, I know you!"- you say suddenly, pointing at him and waving your finger. "I saw you this morning when I opened my eyes. Oh my god, I am going crazy. I've conjured up some kind of pretty man in my dreams! You are a man, right?"

"Ugh, well, I'm not technically human. But for humans I am male presenting. I'm actually-" - Felix doesn't get to finish his sentence, he's suddenly forcefully thrown out of your mind.

The link is broken, why? Felix opens his eyes and you're awake. It's still night so why did you wake up? He floats away from you, giving you space as he sees you fumbling for your night lamp.

You turn the light on, your hand coming up to rest on your forehead. The connection must've been too much for you that it caused you a headache and that's why you woke up. Your Cupid feels bad that he caused you pain so he comes closer to you again, lifting his hands up over your hair to take the pain away. His light heals you and the pressure that was throbbing inside your head and behind your eyelids is suddenly gone. You go back to sleep feeling exhausted and confused about your dream even though you couldn't remember the details of it. Felix decides to stay next to you tonight.

It's been a few weeks, and the Elders haven't said a word about their meeting or Felix's 'situation' to him. He was still scared and panicky but he tried to stay calm for the sake of his charge - you, who he had to help find love. He tried to ignore the constant buzzing he felt whenever he got closer to you, but it was consuming him and making him feel weaker. Like his powers were harder to call upon, and he had no idea how you or the soul binded to you were doing that. Speaking of that soul, he had yet to find them and he tried to 'read' every single person interacting with you, but every time the reading came up blank.

Tonight, Felix decided to appear in your dreams again and try to make the dream longer so you could have a proper conversation.

You find yourself on the pretty field again, those wondrous flowers glowing beautifully around you.

"Hello?"- you say, looking around the now familiar place.

"I'm here."- the deep voice says and you turn around towards it.

"Indeed you are."- you chuckle. "I must be crazy."

"I assure you, you're not. Let me properly introduce myself. My name is Felix, and I am... well I'm your Cupid."- he says and you look at him in disbelief before you burst out into laughter, startling the poor creature.

"Okay, this is just a dream."- you shake your head.

"Yes, it is."

"At least I'm not hallucinating in real life."- you say.

"I've come to talk to you. I'm having some problems in finding the soul binded to you. I feel them close but I can't find them. It must mean that your heart is closed off to love."

"Is that like a soulmate?"- you play along this illusion you created in your head, when in fact you know you're just talking to yourself.

The glowing creature nods.

"What if I don't have one?"- you ask.

"Nonsense! Everyone has a soulmate."

"Even you?"

"I am just a messenger of love."- Felix shakes his head.

"Maybe I'm not meant for love. Maybe I'm an exception and I don't have a soulmate or whatever."- you sigh and Cupid floats closer to you.

"Is that how you feel? Undeserving of love?"

"Are you going all psychological on me?"- you chuckle, he's now closer to you and you feel warmth radiating from the light around him.

"Well, I need to know what's stopping you from finding love."

"I don't want to talk about this anymore."- you say, your mood sour suddenly and Felix feels it.

"Okay, we can talk about anything else."- he smiles at you.

"Don't you have somewhere else to be? Aren't you supposed to help people find love?"

"I am one of many."- Felix chuckles. "I'm supposed to be right here now. With you."

You're about to talk but your alarm blasts next to your ear and you realize you're waking up. The pretty field, flowers, sunshine and Cupid disappear into oblivion and you wake up in your room. The clock is showing 6:30am and you have to get ready for work. You have a warm feeling inside you and you feel like you just came from somewhere, some happy place and you're trying to grasp it again. You hate when you forget your dreams like that, but it must've been a good one because you're feeling more positive than you usually do.

Jisung calls you that evening, all excited about finding you the perfect date. He's been yapping about his coworker, Chan, for days, trying to get you to go out with him.

"Just take a risk. It's one date, what do you have to lose? If you don't like him just ghost him or something."

"Because that's very nice to do, Jisung."- you roll your eyes even though he can't see you over the phone and he laughs.

"Look, maybe it will just be some nice dick, but god knows you need that anyways."

"Oh my god!"- you laugh. "Alright then, I'll go out with him."

"Yes!"- you can imagine Jisung jumping up and down in excitement. "Wear that pretty black dress you have!"

And you do, you wear the dress, you put your heels on, you even put a little more makeup than you usually do and Felix watches.

He seethes in jelaousy, he recognizes it now, it's something Cupids aren't supposed to feel but he does. He wants you to make yourself this pretty for him, only for him. He knows it's the highest rule he's breaking but he can't help it, he's fallen in love with you.

You really don't have high expectations out of tonight, having been disappointed in people again and again. So you're surprised when Chan turns out not only handsome and funny but a real gentleman and someone you can actually have an intelligent conversation with. But you're cautious and don't want to jump to conclusions, or start anything serious.

That's why you decide to let go for the night, after a few encouraging drinks in your system, you invite Chan over to your place. You haven't been touched in so long, you forgot how good it feels to have someone kiss you as passionately as he does. You forgot how it feels to have gentle hands on your skin, worshipping you, laying you down on your bed.

Glowing golden tears slide down Felix's cheeks as he watches from the corner of the room. He knows Chan's not your soulmate, he linked to his soul back at the restaurant you had dinner at. And while he sensed that Chan was a good man, he still didn't want him anywhere near you. Felix still wants to give you privacy, but the buzzing and fuzziness clouding his senses don't let him move his wings or shimmer. He feels paralyzed and all he can do is turn his back to the bed, forced to listen to your pleasure, your strained moans, short breaths, your wetness caused by the man touching you and kissing you, the way you kept chanting his name.

Felix wishes to disappear, but at the same time his gut is stirring and he feels shame wash over him. He shuts his eyes tight, ignoring all the feelings brewing inside him, and suddenly he feels like he's being pulled up. He almost screams in fear but when he opens his eyes, he realizes he's back in his realm. Minho is glowing as he stands in front of him and Felix, still out of breath, slightly bows to his Elder.

"Felix."- Minho says and the Cupid gulps.

"Your powers are weakening fast, even as we speak."

"What's happening to me?"- Felix asks, fresh sparkly tears spilling out his eyes, lips quivering.

"You're losing your powers. You're becoming human, Felix."- Minho announces and Felix gasps.

"H-how is that possible?"- he's shivering now.

"I can't tell you yet. You need to find out on your own. Go back to your charge."

"B-but she's-"

"Go to her. Don't be afraid. Everything will be fine, Cupid."- Minho waves his hands towards Felix, little sparkly clouds coming out of them, soothing the Cupid's pain as much as he can.

"I can't shimmer."- Felix shakes his head, shaking a little.

"Just try to focus on your charge's energy and you'll be transported."- Minho says and Felix tries again, he senses you but he can't move.

"Hyunjin!"- Minho summons the other Cupid and he appears next to them. He takes in the state of his friend, shaking and tears still streaming down his cheeks. He's never seen him this weak or this sad.

"What's wrong?"- Hyunjin's brows furrow.

"He can't shimmer. Help him, just bring him to his charge, he'll show you the way."- Minho explains.

Hyunjin grabs Felix's hands gently and they both close their eyes, communicating with their minds, Felix sending his emotions and your soul's energy to Hyunjin. They manage to shimmer into your living room and Felix looks around. It's obviously the next day after that date, since time goes by differently in different realms.

"Hey, whatever happens, everything will be okay in the end, you know?"- Hyunjin smiles sympathetically at Felix, gently putting his hand on his friend's cheek.

"How do you know that?"- Felix's bottom lip quivers. "Do you know something I don't?"- he asks, vision blurry from tears. Hyunjin wipes them off.

"I don't. But I trust the Elders know what they're doing. And so does The Great Source Of Light. They would never harm us or anyone else for that matter."- Hyunjin reassures him.

"You really think that?"- Felix sniffles.

"I do. You'll be fine, my friend."- Hyunjin pats his head and shimmers away. Felix looks around again and you're not in the living room. He hears rummaging in your kitchen and he hopes and prays that Chan isn't still here. He wipes his tears away, trying to come to his senses, and you walk out of the kitchen towards your sofa.

You look up and freeze.

"What the fuck?!"- you squeal, grabbing the nearest object to you, which was just a decorative pillow in the shape of a flower and hurl it into the intruder standing next to your tv. Felix gasps, lifting his arms up to cover his face and the pillow flies right through him, a few particles of light dispersing around him as the pillow hits the wall with a thud.

"Okay, what the hell is this?!"- you say, obviously panicked and trying to pinch yourself so you wake up cause there's no way this is real.

"Don't hurt me!"- the 'intruder' speaks in a deep voice that's somehow familiar to you.

"What are you? What is happening?!"- you panic, half hiding behind your sofa. "Are you a ghost?"

"Ghosts are scary."- the creature shakes his head and comes closer. You squint your eyes, moving back a little, before realization dawns on you.

"I know you!"- you wave your finger at him and Felix feels a sense of deja vu. "You appear in my dreams. You talk to me. In some field with weird flowers."

"How do you remember that?"- he gasps. His powers must be really weakening.

"I remember a lot of my dreams. I don't remember what we talk about though. Am I going crazy and hallucinating right now? Talking to myself?"- you ask.

"No, I'm real."- the creature says.

You don't feel threatened for some reason so you come closer to him. Warmth radiates off of him and he looks ethereally beautiful up close. His hair is long and blonde, eyes dark but sparkles swim inside them, eyelashes long, freckles adorning his face, some of them in the shape of little hearts, even his upper lip is shaped like a heart. He glows, his pink shiny wings moving ever so slightly as he hovers above the ground just a little, before he plants his feet down on your carpet.

You reach your hand towards him, something pulling you closer to him and Felix stays completely still as he feels that buzzing again. His soul vibrates as your fingertips touch his ever so slightly and his eyes flutter. You gasp, only feeling electrifying warmness when you touch him, not actual skin like you would if you were touching a human.

"W-what are you?"- you whisper.

"I'm a Cupid. One of many. I was sent to help you find your soulmate."- he says and you laugh in disbelief, much like you did in your dream.

"I should call a doctor and get my head checked."- you sigh, sitting down on your sofa. Felix joins you reluctantly, almost shyly, and you eye him.

"I'm telling you, you're not crazy, this is real. It's just that you're not supposed to see me. But somehow you can."- he says.

"And why's that?"- you ask.

"I don't know. The Elders do. But they never told me anything, they said I should find out on my own."- the Cupid explains.

"The Elders?"- you play along to the madness.

"Yeah. Ugh, they're like beings of light like us, but like upper level. They take care of everything, keep the balance of Good in the world. All the positive feelings and such."- the Cupid explains.

"So is your name Cupid or?"- you say, trying to wrap your head around what's happening right now.

"No, my name's Felix."- he says.

"Okay then, Felix."- you emphasize his name and his chest flutters, some kind of vibrating wave washing over him. "How are you supposed to help me find my soulmate?"

"Well, I watched you and got to know you... and I'm supposed to feel the soul-"

"Wait, wait. You watch me? Isn't that kinda creepy?"- you stop him.

"N-no, it's literally what I'm supposed to do! Or it was, at least. I never intruded on your personal moments. I mean, not on purpose."- Felix says, looking away from you.

"What do you mean not on purpose?"

"I couldn't shimmer while you were here with your date last night. But I was summoned by the Elders anyways."

"Shimmer?"

"It's how Cupids transport through realms."- he explains, and you shake your head, your brows lifting up in disbelief.

"So you just watched me have sex?"

Felix cringes, the feelings stirring inside him last night threatening to resurface again.

"No, I didn't! I turned away. And just so you know, Chan is not your soulmate."

You scoff at him and grab your phone.

"Okay, I've had enough of this craziness. I'm gonna call the only person I trust, and if he can see you then you're real."- you nod to yourself.

"Jisung?"- Felix asks and you roll your eyes at him.

"You know eeeeverything about me, now do you?"- you say before Jisung picks up. You tell him it's an emergency and to come over asap.

And he does, just 10 minutes later, he's walking through your door.

"Come, I need to show you something."- you say grabbing his arm and pulling him into your living room.

"Where is the damn emergency?"- Jisung whines.

"There."- you point at Felix, who's standing next to the sofa now. "Do you see him?"

"You mean the pretty man with pink wings that's floating in your living room? Yeah I do and what the actual fuck?"- Jisung asks, his eyes widdened in shock.

"This is Cupid. One of many, as he says. His name is Felix and he's here to help me find love."- you sigh and Jisung laughs, shaking his head. "And since you can see him, either he's real or we're sharing a hallucination."

"I can't believe your ass was so lonely that you got your own personal Cupid to help you date."- Jisung jokes and you smack his head.

"Not funny!"- you say.

"Actually, you have your own personal Cupid too."- Felix chimes in.

"I do?"- Jisung's eyes widden again, his hand still rubbing where you smacked him.

"Everyone does."- Felix nods.

"So why can we see you?"- Jisung asks.

"I don't know. I don't know why any of this is happening. It all started when I accidentally swung the lamp and hit the wardrobe door-"

"That was you?"

"Yeah, and I'm not supposed to be able to influence physical stuff in the earth realm like that. I'm only made of light."- Felix explains.

"Okay then, you obviously need help. Since you can't shimmer or whatever, and people can see you, you have to stay here while I'm out. I mean people would probably be weirded out if they saw a guy with wings floating around me all day."- you chuckle and Felix nods, some kind of turmoil swirling in his chest.

"Shimmer?"- Jisung asks.

"Don't ask."- you say and Felix suddenly feels dizzy, he grabs at his chest, vibration going through his body.

"Felix?"- you tilt your head as you turn back to him.

He's buzzing even more now, little particles of light dispersing constantly around him.

"What's happening to him?!"- Jisung panics getting up and trying to get closer to the Cupid, only to be blinded by light.

Both of you lift your hands up to shield your eyes, and you hear some kind of little explosions like fireworks all around you.

The lights are so bright that you can see them under your closed eyelids.

You hear a thud and the lights disappear so you finally open your eyes. Felix is laying on the floor, seemingly unconscious and both you and Jisung rush to him.

You place your hand on Felix's shoulder and try to shake him only to realize you can actually feel him like he was made of flesh, not only the warmness and electricity that went through your palm earlier.

Felix is slowly waking up and he can hear Minho summoning him, at the same time he feels your hand on him, he feels the floor beneath him and he panics. He's pulled up suddenly, the action hurting him, his now human body screaming with pain.

"Felix."- he hears Minho's warm voice.

"What happened?"- Felix asks, slowly opening his eyes, all the light and swirling clouds that he was surrounded by every day of his existence suddenly making him naseous, intensifying the headache behind his eyelids.

"You're almost completely human. Have you realized why you're turning human?"- Minho asks and Felix shakes his head no.

Minho pinches the bridge of his nose, sighing in annoyance.

"Think about it. The buzzing you feel when you're close to your charge."

Felix thinks, despite the horrible aches going through his body, he tries hard to think about everything he knows. He gasps as realization dawns on him.

"I'm- I'm her soulmate?"- he says, his chest beating now and he clutches at it, realizing he now has a heart pumping blood through him.

"Finally!"- Minho chuckles.

"But how is that possible? Cupids aren't supposed to fall in love, especially not with mortals."- Felix recites the rule he learned the first day he opened his eyes.

"Well, someone screwed up. As you know, us Elders deal with good souls too, we help them reincarnate or pass on into different existences. Cupids souls are the souls of people who are done with their life on earthly realms, promoting them to a higher state of being. I mean, not only Cupids, but also Muses for inspiration, Sandman for dreams and many other light beings. The point is, your soul was supposed to be reincarnated as your charge's soulmate. But instead someone accidentally reincarnated you into a Cupid. Still, the pull of love is stronger than anything, travelling through realms and your soulmate ended up as your charge just so you can find love in each other. Weird how destiny works, but that is yours."- Minho explains and Felix just stares at him, the overwhelming amount of information seemingly suffocating him.

"Wh-what about my powers... My other charges..."

"Your charges have been divided between different Cupids, so don't worry about that. Your powers are actually what I wanted to talk to you about. They were one with you since the day you started existing, connected to your emotions so it will take some time for them to completely disappear. The transition will be hard but it will be worth it."

"B-but... what if she doesn't love me?"- Felix asks weakly.

"Oh, she already does. After all, she's your soulmate too."- Minho smiles, seemingly glowing even brighter than before.

"So what do I do now?"

"I will send you back to the earth realm. This is goodbye, former-Cupid. You did a great job helping people find love. It's your turn now to find yours."- Minho says beckoning Felix's friends to come closer. Hyunjin and Changbin float closer to Felix, both of them with golden tears sparkling in their eyes, threatening to spill out.

"You'll be fine, Felix. You deserve to feel love."- Hyunjin smiles at his friend and Changbin agrees.

Felix tries to hug them, but all he feels is the warmness of the light particles they're made of as they embrace him. It's enough for him to feel the love they hold.

"Shimmer him to his love."- is the last thing Felix hears before everything goes black.

It has been three weeks exactly since Felix disappeared and appeared again in your living room, without his wings, unconscious and running a high fever.

You and Jisung carried him to your bed when he appeared, unsure if you should call an ambulance or not. Jisung remembered that Chan's close to a doctor who's really good at what he does but you felt awkward since you never contacted him again after that night. He was still happy to help, holding no grudges against you and his doctor friend welcomes you to his ordination the same day.

You can't really explain the whole situation to the doctor lest he deems you crazy, but even with the little information you give to him, he takes care of Felix.

"Hm."- doctor Yang muses, staring at the papers in his hands. "He just has a fever, while all his other vitals are fine. It's just like he's burning up from the inside, like there's some kind of light or fire inside him."

Even after running all the possible tests, the doctor couldn't find the source of Felix's state, but you know it's gonna take more than any kind of human medicine to make him better.

And now it's been three weeks, Felix is falling in and out of consciousness, and you've tried everything and anything you could think of. Jisung's been helping you take care of him, and you've had time to think. Your heart ached for Felix, seeing him on the brink between life and death, holding on by a thread.

In the mean time, you decide to say fuck it and quit your job. It's not what you wanted to do originally anyways, you just had to pay bills like everyone else so you settled. But, after finding out about Cupids, Elders and whatnot, your earthly problems and concerns seemed kind of nonsensical. Life is so much greater than you thought it was, there is meaning in it, there is love and destiny and soulmates.

That's why you feel connected to Felix, in a way, he was excluded too, something you felt every single day of your life, especially at work. He was cut off from the only life he knew, he had no family or friends, no past on Earth, at least not in this life. You feel like you want to protect him in any way you can.

"Sungie, I'm worried. His breathing is really shallow."- you say, placing your hand on Felix's forehead.

Jisung is silent for a few moments, deep in thought.

"Jisung?"- you tilt your head at him.

"You know what I've been thinking? Since he is - well was Cupid, and he's made of light and love... wouldn't a true love's kiss make him better?"- Jisung suggests.

"Have you been reading fairytales?"- you chuckle.

"Cupid is kind of a fairytale though, isn't he? Or a myth, rather. I don't know, just think about it."

"That's so cliché though."- you shake your head in disbelief.

"Cliché or not, it could be the only way to help him."

That evening, you're alone with Felix and thinking about what your friend said earlier. It couldn't hurt to try, right? You got nothing to lose.

You get up from the couch that you've been sleeping on ever since Felix fell ill, and make your way to your room. He's laying on his back, his breathing fast and shallow, beads of sweat running down his forehead. You sit on the bed, nervousness suddenly washing over you and making your heart beat faster in your chest.

"Felix?"- you try like many times before, but to no avail. Your eyes water and you're afraid. If this doesn't work, he may not have much more time. The thought of that creates an empty hole in your stomach.

You lean in closer to his face and slowly press your lips on his. They're chapped but still soft and you feel something hit you, leaving you out of breath. Thousands of years of love, his soul that was binded to you since the beginning, stretching into forever, taking different shapes, nationalities, species. You may have even been two rocks on a shore when Earth first came into existence. You know him, you know his lips, you know his love.

You hear fireworks much like that day in the living room and you quickly pull back. Little lights are exploding around Felix and he opens his eyes.

"Y-y/n?"- he says weakly, his voice deep and raspy as he squints his eyes at you. The little lights from the fireworks disperse around you both.

"Felix?!"- you gasp. You can't believe it actually worked! Jisung is a damn genius, you think, smiling at Felix.

"W-what-"

"It's okay."- you touch his forehead and his fever seems to be subsiding quickly. "You have to drink some water."

Felix just nods, feeling completely confused and out of it. You grab a water bottle and help him drink.

"Oh, that's better."- he says. "What happened?"

"You were kind of unconscious for three weeks. Jisung and I took care of you. I thought you... I thought you wouldn't make it."- you say, your stomach swirling with many different emotions.

"How did you make me better then?"- he asks and your face warms up.

"I- ugh- I kissed you."- you declare and Felix's eyes widden, his cheeks rosy.

"Oh."- he looks away and awkwardness settles between you both as you have no idea what to do or say.

Felix's stomach suddenly grumbles making you chuckle as he gasps and grabs at it.

"I guess you're fully human now."- you say. "Let's go eat something."- you reach your hands towards him.

He grabs them, wobbling on his feet and you help him steady himself. After not using his legs for 3 weeks, he still feels weak and fuzzy even though your kiss basically healed him.

"My wings!"- he realizes suddenly. "They're gone!"

"Actually, they were gone as soon as you were brought back from your realm."- you tell him and he doesn't answer, seemingly deep in thought.

You decide not to pry with any questions as you both settle in the kitchen, he'll tell you what's on his mind when he's ready.

You whip up some instant noodles and bring two bowls to the table. Felix doesn't wait, he starts digging in with his chopsticks right away.

"Woah, woah, wait a little or you'll get burned."- you warn him, gently grabbing his hand.

His face flushes as he looks at you sheepishly.

"Sorry."- he mumbles.

"It's okay."- you smile at him. "You have lots of things to get used to."

When he does try the food, his eyes widden comically, lips falling open.

"Oh wow, this is so good! Must be food for gods."- he gasps.

"Thank you, but it's just instant noodles."- you chuckle. He smiles a little and continues eating as thoughts swirl around his head.

Now that he's completely human, everything he knew before and everyone he cared about was gone. Everything he ever was just evaporated, his powers, his wings, his duties. And even though he knows you're his soulmate, and you're bound to fall in love with him like he fell in love with you, he was still scared. If you didn't want him, he'd have nowhere to go.

"What's on your mind?"- you ask Felix after dinner, as you both sit on your couch.

"Well... I basically don't exist in this realm. I don't have a family, not even a last name. No one, but you I guess."- he sighs shyly.

"I know it's not the same, but I kind of of have no one except Jisung and well you either. I'm not really close to my family anymore."

"But the pictures-"

"Are old. They didn't agree with my choices and they didn't care for me when I was down. Jisung was there for me at my lowest so he's more like family to me than my actual one."- you say.

"I understand. It's just that... I'm scared."- Felix looks away from you.

"Of what?"

"I know we're soulmates but I'm afraid you wont see me the way I see you and then I'll truly have no one."- he says quietly. You chuckle, making him look up at you.

"You know what I felt when I kissed you?"- you ask and he shakes his head.

"I felt like I've known you for a thousand years. Like I loved you for a thousand years."- his lips tremble. "I've always been kind of a dreamer when it comes to love. But after being with wrong people I stopped believing. In soulmates, destiny, Cupids and whatnot. But kissing you tonight changed everything."

"Do you maybe want to try that again?"

Instead of answering verbally you start leaning in towards him slowly, your eyes travelling to his plump lips. Felix's heart starts beating hard against his chest as he leans in too. Your heart matches the beating of his as his breath hits your lips. He meets you halfway, your lips pressing together and you place your hands on his cheeks gently. You start moving your lips and he's stunned for a moment before he follows your lead. And suddenly, he feels all of it. All the precious moments of love you shared in your past lives. The purpose of his existence, he realizes as his soul buzzes is to love you. You smile into the kiss and he knows everything will be just fine.

#skz x reader #skz fluff #stray kids #stray kids x reader #lee felix x reader #lee felix fluff #skz angst #skz soft thoughts #skz soft hours #lee felix angst #lee felix #skz scenarios #stray kids scenarios #lee felix smut #skz smut #stray kids x you #lee felix scenarios

90 notes · View notes