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PAIRING : Sasuke Uchiha x GN!Reader

GENRE : hurt / comfort

WORD COUNT : 4.7k

SUMMARY : Since childhood, you were Sasuke’s quiet confidant—the one who never chased him, yet never left. When he chose revenge over the village, you were left with only memories and a lingering hope. Now, years later, fate has reunited you. As old wounds heal and emotions resurface, Sasuke is torn between the life he once wanted and the connection he can’t ignore. Will he finally let someone in, or is his heart too hardened by the past?

CONTENT / WARNINGS : emotional themes, grief trauma, abandonment issues, mild angst, slow-burn, heartfelt apologies, character growth, confession, no "y/n” mentioned

SONG : Sweater Weather - The Neighbourhood

Your friendship with Sasuke began in a way that was unspoken, almost inevitable. You both belonged to prominent families, but there was no pressure to “be close” or to constantly seek each other’s company. The bond felt natural—two kids who understood each other’s silence, especially after Sasuke’s life changed forever.

After the Uchiha massacre, Sasuke withdrew from almost everyone, but you kept your distance in a way that felt respectful. You didn’t try to force conversations with him the way others did, and he seemed to appreciate that. You’d sit beside him sometimes in the academy, both of you content to let the quiet settle around you. When you did speak, it was about small things, or questions that didn’t pressure him. Occasionally, you’d ask, “Are you doing okay?” or, “Anything on your mind?” He rarely answered with more than a nod or shrug, but there was a weight in his eyes, as if he wanted to say something he didn’t know how to.

Once in a while, after classes ended or during breaks, you’d train together. Sasuke’s determination was fierce, as if each session was a step toward avenging his clan. He hardly talked about his family, but you noticed the way his expression changed, focused and almost haunted. And when he sat beside you to catch his breath, you’d make an effort to bring some lightness, whether through a quiet observation or a small joke. Sometimes he’d respond with the faintest of smirks, a rare sight that only a handful of people had seen. You might not have broken down his walls, but he trusted you enough to let you be there. That, in itself, was something you cherished.

—

As time went on, and as other classmates like Sakura and Ino developed crushes on Sasuke, your bond with him stayed steady, untainted by infatuation. While others would compete for his attention, you shared a camaraderie that didn’t need grand gestures. It was in the small moments: the shared glances across the classroom, or the way he’d wait an extra second after a sparring match, silently making sure you were okay before nodding and walking away.

Sasuke, in his own way, came to cherish this friendship too, though he’d never say it. He appreciated that you didn’t press for answers, nor did you treat him like a prize. Instead, you were just there, steady and patient, giving him the respect he couldn’t find in others.

When he was placed in Team Seven, and you were assigned to another team, things changed. Yet, there was still that comfort in knowing you’d both be around the village, even if on separate missions. Occasionally, your teams would cross paths on joint assignments, and while he remained his usual reserved self, you noticed a small change in him when he spoke to you. Sasuke would look at you a bit longer, and his tone softened just slightly in a way that wasn’t there with Naruto or Sakura. He wouldn’t admit it, but your presence grounded him, giving him a fleeting sense of normalcy that no one else could provide.

On one particularly difficult mission, your teams had been caught in an ambush. You saw a rare flash of worry in his eyes when you were hit, even though he quickly masked it with his usual stoic demeanor. Later, as the teams rested and regrouped, he’d walked over to where you sat, silently offering a water canteen before looking out into the distance, as if pretending the exchange had never happened. But in that gesture, in that rare flicker of concern, you saw that he cared—even if he didn’t fully understand why.

The day he decided to leave, he sought you out—not under the cloak of night as he would with the others, but in broad daylight. Something about your friendship made him want to give you a proper farewell, even if he wasn’t sure what that farewell should look like. The two of you walked to a quiet part of the village, a place where you’d once trained together as kids.

There was a heaviness in the air, a feeling that you couldn’t quite place. Sasuke’s gaze was distant, but something in his expression seemed conflicted, almost vulnerable.

“Next time we see each other…if that ever happens…” he started, his voice trailing off. The words hung in the air, filling you with a sense of unease.

“What do you mean?” you asked, your heart sinking as you searched his face for answers.

He didn’t respond immediately. Instead, he looked down, an almost guilty expression crossing his face before he straightened, hiding it with a mask of determination. “You’ve always been…someone I trust,” he said, his voice almost inaudible, as if admitting it to himself for the first time.

Before you could ask him what he meant, he reached out, his hand lingering near yours for a moment. His fingers brushed against your wrist, a gesture so small yet filled with a weight you couldn’t understand. “Thank you,” he whispered, his voice softer than you’d ever heard it.

You opened your mouth to speak, to ask him to stay, but something stopped you. You knew that he had made up his mind. And so, instead, you simply nodded, swallowing the words you wanted to say. “Take care, Sasuke,” you replied, your voice barely holding steady.

He gave you one last look, something like regret flickering in his eyes, before he turned and walked away. You watched him go, realizing only after he’d disappeared from sight that this was his way of saying goodbye.

Later that night, as you replayed his words and his expression over and over, the truth sank in. Sasuke was leaving the village, leaving you—and it hurt. Yet, a small part of you felt honored to be the only one he’d said goodbye to. It was as if he’d left a piece of himself with you, a promise that, no matter how far he went, you’d always hold a place in his life.

You didn’t know how long it would take, or if he’d ever return, but you decided then and there that you’d wait. You’d wait for him, believing that, someday, he’d come back. And until that day, you’d carry his trust like a quiet vow, a reminder of the bond you shared that transcended words.

—

Three years had passed since that quiet farewell, and you’d held onto the memory of it. You didn’t know if you’d ever see him again, but a part of you had always kept hope alive, silently believing he’d return. Then, as fate would have it, during a mission with several of the Konoha 11 to locate Sasuke after his fight with Itachi, you saw him again.

It was a mere glimpse—Sasuke standing there, exhausted but resolute, his form silhouetted against the fading light. Your eyes locked, and time seemed to stop. There was no exchange of words, only a quiet, intense gaze that held unspoken emotions neither of you fully understood. The years of silence fell away, leaving only the remnants of an old, unbroken bond. Sasuke didn’t smile, didn’t offer any sign, but in that moment, something deep inside him stirred—a flicker of familiarity and comfort he hadn’t felt in years.

And as you met his gaze, you felt the same. You didn’t know why, but seeing him there, alive, felt like a missing piece of yourself had returned, even if only for a moment.

—

During the war, Sasuke had seen you again. And this time, he saw a different side of you. Where once you’d been quiet and patient, a steady presence in his life, you now carried a fierceness that impressed him deeply. He watched you fight with skill and determination, handling challenges with calm resilience that rivaled his own. There was something about your confidence, your unyielding spirit in the face of danger, that drew his attention more than he’d admit.

He’d thought of you as the person who’d always been there, waiting in silence, yet now he saw you as so much more. A subtle respect had grown within him, and while he’d never voice it aloud, a part of him admired your strength, your growth, and the way you’d found your own place in the world, even without him.

In his mind, he couldn’t help but acknowledge it: You’ve become incredible…in ways I never expected.

—

It was after the war, after everything had finally ended, that you saw him again. He’d just come from the hospital, signs of fatigue in his features, but his gaze was clearer than you’d ever seen it. The two of you met by chance outside, and there was a moment of silent recognition as he nodded toward the path beside you, a quiet invitation.

You walked together in the growing twilight, the orange hues of the sunset casting long shadows around you as the last light dipped below the horizon. It was a familiar quietness, like so many moments from years ago, but this time, the air was charged with something heavier, something unresolved.

Finally, Sasuke stopped, looking away as he took a slow, measured breath. “I…,” he began, his voice rough, uncertain. “I owe you an apology.” He looked down at his hands, almost as if searching for the right words, his expression unreadable but tense.

You stayed silent, letting him gather his thoughts. He was never one to speak easily, especially about matters so close to the heart, and you knew he needed the space to work through this on his own.

“I was…cold,” he continued after a moment. His voice softened slightly, as if the admission took him by surprise. “Back then, I never… I never tried to explain myself. To anyone. Especially not to you.”

There was a brief pause, and he looked away, frustration crossing his face. “I don’t know how to say this,” he muttered, more to himself than to you. Then, after a moment, he turned his gaze toward you, his expression uncharacteristically vulnerable. “But I knew you were different. I knew I could…count on you. And I still left.”

Your chest tightened, emotions flooding in at the sound of his words. “Sasuke,” you whispered, unsure if you wanted him to continue or stop altogether.

He held up a hand, his gaze intense as he looked at you fully. “Let me finish,” he said, his tone gentler but still firm. “I’ve been thinking…about all of it. About how much you put up with. All the times you tried to help me, tried to understand me, and I never gave you a real answer.”

You could see the faintest hint of guilt in his eyes, a weight he’d carried, even if he didn’t fully understand why. “When I left,” he continued slowly, “I told myself it was for revenge, that nothing else mattered. But that last day, when I saw you…” He trailed off, searching your face as if looking for understanding. “It felt…wrong. Leaving you behind. I couldn’t explain it, not then. But it bothered me.”

You swallowed, feeling the lump in your throat. “Then why did you leave without a real goodbye?” you asked softly, your voice wavering.

Sasuke’s gaze dropped, his expression unreadable. “I thought…if I said more, if I tried to explain myself, I’d be too weak to actually go,” he admitted, his voice barely audible. “And I thought I had to be strong, to cut all ties. But it wasn’t that simple. You were the only one I said goodbye to. And even then, it…haunted me.”

For a moment, the silence stretched between you, filled with years of unspoken words. You could see the conflict in his expression, the way he struggled to put his emotions into words. “I didn’t realize how much I’d hurt you by leaving,” he continued, his voice almost a whisper. “And now, I know…I can’t change what I did. But I needed to say I’m sorry.”

Your heart ached at the vulnerability in his words, at the raw honesty you’d never seen from him before. “I was hurt, yes,” you admitted, fighting back tears. “I didn’t understand why you had to go, or why you couldn’t trust me enough to tell me. But I knew you had reasons. And despite everything, I forgave you long ago.”

He looked at you, surprise flickering in his eyes. “You forgave me?”

You nodded, a small, bittersweet smile crossing your face. “I figured, if I kept holding onto the hurt, it would only make things worse. And…I believed in you, Sasuke. Even if you didn’t say it, I felt like you cared. That was enough.”

He seemed to struggle with your words, almost uncomfortable with the weight of your forgiveness. “You always were too understanding,” he murmured, a hint of self-deprecation in his tone.

“And you were always too stubborn,” you countered gently, a soft laugh breaking the tension. “But that’s who you are.”

A faint, almost reluctant smile tugged at his lips. He looked away, as if the emotions were too much to bear. “I never…expected you to wait. For me to come back,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper.

You stepped closer, looking up at him, catching the brief flicker of uncertainty in his gaze. “It’s alright. You’re here now.”

Sasuke let out a quiet breath, his gaze softening. “Thank you,” he said, the words simple yet filled with meaning. It was as if, in that small phrase, he was saying everything he couldn’t put into words—the regret, the gratitude, the unspoken connection that had kept you tied to each other all these years.

As Sasuke turned to leave, the weight of his promise lingered in the air. The sun dipped below the horizon, casting long shadows over the village. You felt a renewed sense of hope, knowing that the bond you shared was stronger than ever, despite the trials you had both faced. And with that, a new beginning opened between you—a chance to rebuild not just your friendship but the trust and bond that had endured through years of silence and separation.

—

As the sun rose over Konoha, you found yourself at the training grounds, practicing your techniques. The rhythmic sound of your feet hitting the ground echoed through the quiet morning. You focused, but your thoughts kept drifting back to Sasuke. The lingering memory of his apology had stirred something within you, a warmth that urged you to hope for more.

“Focus,” a familiar voice called out, snapping you from your reverie. You turned to see Sasuke approaching, his brow furrowed in concentration as he watched you. “Your stance is off.”

You grinned, feeling a rush of happiness at the sight of him. “Thanks for the tip, Sensei,” you teased lightly, adjusting your stance. He rolled his eyes, but a hint of a smile ghosted across his lips, reminding you of the boy you had known long ago.

As you trained together, the air buzzed with unspoken comfort. Occasionally, he would offer you pointers, his tone serious yet softening with every exchange. Each shared glance held unspoken understanding, a reminder of the bond you were slowly rebuilding.

—

One evening, you found a quiet spot near the river, the gentle sound of flowing water providing a calming backdrop. You both sat on the grass, enjoying the peace that surrounded you. The sunset cast a golden hue across the landscape, and you couldn’t help but feel content.

“Do you remember the first time we came here?” you asked, breaking the comfortable silence. Sasuke glanced at you, the corners of his mouth twitching upward in a faint smile.

“Yeah,” he replied, his voice thoughtful. “You fell in the water trying to catch a frog.”

You laughed, the memory bringing warmth to your chest. “I was determined! But you helped me out,” you reminded him.

“Because you wouldn’t stop whining,” he shot back, but there was a hint of fondness in his tone. The two of you reminisced about old memories, the laughter bridging the gaps between the past and the present.

—

After a long day of training, you decided to share a meal. You prepared a simple dinner, and when Sasuke arrived, you laid out the food on a small table outside. The night air was cool, and fireflies danced around you as you both dug in.

“This isn’t bad,” he remarked after taking a bite, surprising you with his praise. You raised an eyebrow, unable to suppress a smile.

“Just ‘not bad’? I thought I could impress you,” you teased, leaning back in your chair. Sasuke glanced at you, a flicker of amusement in his eyes.

“Impressing me isn’t easy,” he replied, but there was a lightness to his words now, a softness that made your heart race.

As you both enjoyed the meal, the atmosphere was filled with easy conversation, laughter, and the comfort of companionship. It felt natural, as if the years apart had only strengthened the connection between you.

—

One night, after a particularly exhausting day, you both lay on the grass outside the village, gazing up at the stars. The sky was clear, and you pointed out constellations, your excitement palpable.

“Look, that’s the Big Dipper!” you exclaimed, tracing its outline with your finger. Sasuke turned his head slightly, a glimmer of curiosity in his eyes.

“Do you really believe in that stuff?” he asked, a hint of skepticism in his voice.

“Why not? It’s nice to think there’s something bigger out there,” you replied, glancing at him. He was silent for a moment, contemplating your words.

“Maybe,” he finally said, his tone thoughtful. “But I think…what’s important is right here.” He motioned between the two of you, and the weight of his words settled warmly in your chest. It was a small moment, yet it held the promise of something deeper.

—

As the day approached for Sasuke to leave on his next mission, the mood between you grew heavier. You both knew it was part of his duty, part of who he was, but the thought of him being away again made your heart ache.

“Be careful,” you urged, your voice softer than usual as you stood at the village gate. He met your gaze, the intensity of his dark eyes making you feel like he was searching for something.

“I will,” he promised, and for a moment, you felt a sense of peace.

“Just…don’t take too long this time,” you added, trying to keep your tone light despite the lump in your throat. Sasuke paused, and in that moment, you saw the flicker of a smile.

“Next time we meet,” he said slowly, his voice steady, “I’ll make sure to have a better goodbye.” And with that, he left, and you knew that this time, you would be waiting.

With each encounter, the distance that once defined your relationship faded, replaced by a deepening connection that felt both familiar and new. As time passed, you both embraced the changes, finding solace in each other’s presence, which slowly turned from friendship into something more.

The journey had been long, marked by pain and loss, but now, as you walked alongside Sasuke once again, the path ahead felt promising. The bond you shared was evolving, hinting at the possibility of love, quietly waiting to be acknowledged.

—

As the weeks turned into months and the months quickly into a year, the bond between you and Sasuke continued to deepen. The unspoken tension between you lingered like an electric current, and every shared laugh, every moment spent in each other’s company seemed to ignite something new in your hearts. Yet, while the connection felt undeniable, neither of you had taken the leap to acknowledge the shift. Sasuke, in particular, struggled with the burgeoning feelings that swirled within him.

Sitting outside on a warm summer evening, you both watched the sun dip below the horizon, painting the sky in hues of orange and pink. The air was still, and for a moment, it felt as though time had stopped. You turned to look at Sasuke, who was staring intently at the sky, his face illuminated by the fading light.

“What are you thinking about?” you asked, breaking the silence. He shifted slightly, glancing at you with an expression that was both contemplative and guarded.

“Just… how everything has changed,” he replied, his voice low. “It feels different now.”

You nodded, your heart fluttering at the possibility of him meaning more than just the sunset. “Yeah, it really does. We’ve come a long way.”

He didn’t respond immediately, and you could sense that he was grappling with something deeper, something he wasn’t quite ready to voice. Sasuke had always been more comfortable with action than words, and you respected that, even as you wished he could share more of what was on his mind.

As the stars began to twinkle overhead, you lay back on the grass, watching the constellations appear one by one. “Do you remember the stories we used to tell each other about the stars?” you asked, your voice soft and reminiscent.

He chuckled softly, the sound warming your heart. “I remember you always had some elaborate story about them.”

“Of course! They were all very important,” you teased, sitting up to face him. “And you always pretended not to care, but I know you did.”

Sasuke looked at you, a faint smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. “Maybe I did,” he admitted, his gaze softening. “You just… have a way of making things seem more interesting.”

That comment made your heart skip. You smiled back, feeling a rush of warmth at the sincerity in his eyes. “Well, I’m glad I could entertain you.”

As the moments passed, you both fell into a comfortable silence. But the quiet between you was filled with an unspoken understanding, and that was when it struck Sasuke.

Days later, Sasuke found himself deep in thought as he trained alone in the woods outside Konoha. Each punch and kick felt more powerful, fueled by a growing sense of determination. But as the sweat dripped down his brow and he paused to catch his breath, it hit him like a jolt of electricity.

He loved you.

The realization was startling, yet it made perfect sense. You had always been there for him, through his darkness and his pain. You never pushed him to be someone he wasn’t; instead, you patiently allowed him to be himself, to feel the way he felt, and to heal at his own pace. While he had spent years isolating himself, you were the one person who saw through his walls and accepted him as he was.

And it wasn’t just about your patience; it was the way you challenged him. You made him think, you brought laughter into his life, and you shared your dreams and fears with him, fostering a connection that felt both intimate and genuine. You had never demanded anything from him, yet your presence was a light in the shadows that surrounded him.

As he stood there, a countless of emotions flooded him—fear, joy, and a fierce longing to express what he felt. But there was also anxiety; what if you didn’t feel the same way? The thought of losing the friendship that meant so much to him was almost unbearable.

A week passed since Sasuke’s revelation, and he knew he could no longer keep his feelings to himself. The next evening, he invited you to meet him by the river—the same spot where you had shared so many laughs and memories. He arrived early, his heart racing with anticipation and dread.

When you approached, the sun was beginning to set, casting a golden glow on the water’s surface. You smiled brightly at him, and for a moment, he forgot his nerves.

“Hey! You’re early!” you exclaimed, settling beside him on the bank.

“Yeah, I wanted to make sure I had some time to think,” he replied, his voice steady despite the whirlwind of emotions inside.

“Thinking about what?” you asked, tilting your head curiously.

He took a deep breath, preparing himself for what was to come. “About us,” he said, his tone serious.

Your eyes widened slightly, and he could see the intrigue mixed with concern in your expression. “Us?”

“Yes.” He hesitated for a moment, searching for the right words. “I’ve been doing a lot of thinking lately. About everything—about what we’ve been through and how much you mean to me.”

You shifted slightly closer, your heart racing at the intensity of his gaze. “Sasuke, what are you trying to say?”

He paused, gathering his thoughts, the weight of his feelings pressing down on him. “You’ve always been there for me. Even when I pushed everyone away, you never gave up on me. You let me be who I am, without judgment or expectation. And… I don’t think I ever truly expressed how much that means to me.”

His words hung in the air, and you watched him, your breath caught in your throat. The sincerity in his eyes was palpable, and you felt a warmth spread through your chest. “I… I appreciate that, Sasuke. I really do.”

He swallowed hard, his resolve strengthening as he continued. “But it’s more than that. Being with you, talking with you, training together—it’s brought me a sense of peace I didn’t know I needed. And I’ve realized… I love you.”

Silence fell between you, the weight of his confession settling like a blanket over the two of you. Your heart raced, and you felt a mixture of shock and elation.

“You love me?” you echoed, your voice barely above a whisper.

Sasuke nodded, his expression earnest. “I do. I’ve tried to ignore it, but it’s become impossible. I don’t want to hide how I feel anymore.”

Tears pricked your eyes, not out of sadness, but joy. “Sasuke, I love you too!” you exclaimed, unable to contain the happiness that bubbled inside you. “I’ve felt this way for so long, but I never knew if you felt the same.”

A rare smile broke across his face, and the tension that had been coiled in his shoulders eased. “You really do?”

“Of course!” You reached for his hand, intertwining your fingers with his. “You’re my best friend. I’ve always cared for you, but it’s grown into something deeper, something beautiful.”

The moment felt surreal as you both sat there, fingers laced together, hearts racing in synchrony. Sasuke’s grip tightened around your hand, a warmth radiating from his touch that sent shivers down your spine.

“Then let’s not waste any more time,” he said, his voice soft yet resolute. “I want to be with you—fully, completely.”

You nodded, a wide smile spreading across your face. “I want that too.”

He leaned closer, and you could see the uncertainty in his eyes, a vulnerability that was rare for him. “Can I… kiss you?” he asked, his voice almost a whisper.

“Yes,” you breathed, your heart racing as he leaned in. His lips brushed against yours, tentative at first, before deepening the kiss. It was sweet, filled with all the unspoken words and emotions that had built up between you over the years. Time seemed to stand still as you both melted into each other, the world around you fading away.

When you finally pulled apart, you felt breathless, a sense of joy flooding your heart. Sasuke smiled softly, and for the first time, you saw a glimpse of the warmth that lay beneath his typically stoic exterior.

“Wow,” he murmured, his cheeks slightly flushed. “That was… nice.”

You laughed, the sound light and full of happiness. “Nice? That’s all you’ve got?”

“I mean, it was more than nice,” he corrected himself, his gaze intense. “It was everything.”

As the sun dipped lower in the sky, painting the horizon in shades of purple and gold, you sat together, hands intertwined, feeling an overwhelming sense of contentment. The future felt bright, filled with possibilities and adventures yet to come.

Sasuke glanced at you, his expression softening. “I know I’m not great with words, but I want you to know I’m here for you. I’ll always protect you.”

You squeezed his hand, a smile dancing on your lips. “And I’ll be here for you too, no matter what. Together.”

The two of you shared another kiss, the warmth of your connection solidifying the bond that had been formed through trials and time. With every moment spent together, you knew you would navigate whatever came next, hand in hand.

note : If you liked it, I’d appreciate it if you could please leave a like and reblog. ᥫ᭡

ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ ꜱᴇᴠᴇɴ

CHAPTER SEVEN - KONOHA.

WORDS - 3,366.

RATING - G+.

SUMMARY - sarada and suiren sneak out to the hokage mansion.

feedback would be appreciated!

previous chapter - chapter six.

Sarada anxiously breathed through her nose, the older twin had wondered how deep asleep their mother had to be for them to successfully sneak out of their home, verily, Sarada and Suiren had numerous of attempts when they had attempted to creep out of their home just be met with an offended pink-haired woman standing in front of the entrance.

Sarada and Suiren had briefly spoke about how today’s shift must’ve been tiresome for their mother ere they proceeded with their trip towards the Hokage Mansion. As Sarada held herself unsure the girl had yet protectively stood in front of her sister as she had guided them towards the destination.

“I think within this time we can just walk in,” Suiren muttered and as Sarada had shifted her red frames up the bridge of her nose, she had let out a shaky breath.

“I wonder why I agreed to do this,” Sarada responded and quickly, Suiren had shot her sister a look.

“Because we’re sisters, twins specficially and the Water Stone is mine,” Suiren hastily answered and surprised, the short-haired girl had stopped in her tracks and as kickback, Suiren had walked into her.

Annoyed, Suiren had stood up straight as her look had effortlessly expressed her annoyance. “The Water Stone is yours?” Sarada slowly repeated and suspicious, Sarada had fully twisted her gaze towards her sister, arms crossed, curious with her younger sister’s intentions. “I thought the Water Stone belonged to the Land of Water.”

“And I’m the amplifier,” Suiren corrected. “If the Stone wasn’t mine---I’d have no connection to it.”

Easily defeated, Sarada had dropped her shoulders. “You’re right,” and in triumph, Suiren had bounced on her feet, her hands had fell against her sister’s shoulders ere she had pushed Sarada to resume their trip towards the Hokage Mansion.

The rest of walk had been quiet, with brief speeches being thrown between the two sisters, besides the fact that the night had been eerily dark and quiet, which had normally contrasted the scene that usually bustled in Konoha, Sarada had slowly gathered the enthusiasm to get the Stone with her sister, yet it wasn’t like Sarada would turn around and leave her sister to do it on her own. As much as she did not want to do it, she was just as curious and due to that, the older twin had reticently cursed herself for being so indecisive.

Plus, Suiren had been correct, mayhap security had a meeting, but to enter the Hokage Mansion was very easy for the two girls, though, if Suiren had been truthful, Konoha had a thing where it had been too trusting of its citizens.

“What do you want the Stone for?” Sarada questioned and with her presence now beside her older sister, Suiren briefly glanced in the direction of Sarada.

“It’ll help with my powers,” Suiren truthfully responded.

“Water Powers?” Sarada figured and intrigued, she had once more twisted her arms around each other. “What about the other Stones, do you think you’ll need them?”

“There’ll be a moment where I’ll need to get those as well, I don’t understand what the outcome will be,” Suiren said, “but I know it’ll help me with something.”

Comprehensive with Suiren’s claim, Sarada had remained silent and Suiren could feel the uneasy essence breeze from her sister, awkwardly, Suiren has scratched her elbow, a clumsy grin on her face. “Wow, I’m surprised how easy it is for us to freely walk down the mansion,” Suiren mentioned, it had been at least two minutes since the girls had walked down the dimly lit corridors, Suiren had occasionally forgotten how many doors they were in the building, it had reminded the long-haired girl of being in a train speeding past houses.

“Do not jinx it,” Sarada whispered and the second Sarada’s short sentence had left her lips, a tall figure had stood in front of them, a tall man that had carried shoulder-length hair, and had worn the standard join outfit, Suiren had recognised the appearance, the man that had worn his forehead protector like a bandana, chiefly with his trademark toothpick in his mouth with that usual calm look on his face.

Genma.

He was someone who usually worked for the Hokage two seats back, their Godmother, Lady Tsunade, Suiren had thought perhaps he had wanted to work for Lord Naruto now since he was known to be a man who was always on his feet. Though, currently, his calm exterior had been replaced with a hasty scowl.

“What are you two doing here?” Genma asked and caught red-handed, the two girls froze in their spots as the looming figure of the tall being had stalked over them.

Perplexed and stuck on how to explain themselves, Sarada and Suiren had quickly exchanged looks as they reticently debriefed on how to execute their reason.

Eventually confident, Suiren stood up straight as her face twisted into a close and rapacious demeanour. “We should be allowed here since Lord Hokage is like our uncle.”

Stupefied, Genma pulled himself back as he grumbled a few incomprehensible words that lowly expressed his surprise. “I-“

“I promise if you do not get out of my way, I will cause the biggest scene!” Suiren raised, “and I don’t know if you are aware, but I’m very persuasive, Genma, I’ll find way to knock you out of the position and have you forbidden from entering this place again!”

Shocked, both Sarada and Genma lingered in surprised silence---just as Suiren had delivered a dainty toothy smile. The only noise that had articulated was the light sounds that echoed from the clacks of Suiren’s heeled boots, as she swerved right past the older man’s body and resumed her trip to where the Water Stone resided in.

Gently humoured, Sarada quickly turned her face from the man and quickly followed her sister’s footsteps, suddenly at ease on how fun the little trip from their home had become.

⋆｡‧₊°꧁ ༺𓆩❦︎𓆪༻ ꧂‧₊˚.⋆

Careful, the two girls had snuck into the room the Water Stone had laid imprisoned in, the room had been dark thus Sarada had been able to observe the light flicker from the stone waved the second it had sensed Suiren’s arrival. Reticent, Sarada remained intrigued, satisfied by the beauty of the object.

“Katsuke was interested in the stone,” Suiren began, and as she had closed the door behind them, Sarada had examined the chakra box the orb had been in, and with curiosity, Sarada had raised her hand to touch the chakra box---to be responded with an effect of ripples, which had caused her hand had quickly bounce off the object.

Amazed, Sarada pressed her impacted hand against her chest. Intrigued with the security that had been placed for it, she had now turned her vision towards her sister. “How are you going to get it out?” Sarada questioned and eagerly, Suiren had walked towards the object.

“There’s so much that you don’t know that’s been going on,” Suiren muttered and interested, Sarada had resumed to listen to her sister’s ramble---as she had patiently anticipated to see what her sister would do, though, before Suiren had done anything, she had turned to look at her sister, her soft eyes now solid and stern. “Promise me Sarada, that whatever you see or hear happen will not be mentioned to anyone else.”

Hesitant with anxiety, Sarada nodded her head. “I promise, I won’t tell anyone else.”

Thus, Suiren had begun to tell Sarada her story that had included Sora. The elements of the story she had been told from Dragon Spirit had been repeated to Sarada who stared at her, eyes wide like a bulb, comprehensive of the burden her sister had currently carried.

“The Water Stone will help with my life source,” Suiren said, and just as Sarada had attempted to inquire Suiren on how she would take the Water Stone, the younger Uchiha had already raised her hand in direct level of the chakra box, eyes pierced with concentration as Suiren pushed herself to think what she had wanted to do. Thus, as reality had bent to her will, Suiren’s hand had slowly entered the chakra box without restriction.

In awe, Sarada’s eyes glistened with surprise and shock as she had observed the circumstance displayed right in front of her. The moment Suiren had fully pulled the orb out of the transparent box, the stone had laid innocently against both of her palms, and the hue and brightness of the item had zapped in luminosity.

Suiren had gasped at the wind-like feeling that had gushed passed her body and through her veins and in reaction to her contact with the stone, her hair began to slowly float along with the other objects in the room, gently, Suiren had been lifted off her feet and mildly, her body had floated in the room, Sarada’s head had shadowed Suiren’s movements and had watched how the glow of the Water Stone had mirrored in Suiren’s eyes.

Blue light had emitted in Suiren’s eyes and as kickback, the atmosphere began to shake, as impact, during the time the power of the stone had inserted inside of her; Sarada had found trouble keeping herself on her feet. The tumbling of the room had vibrated throughout the rest of the building as the ethereal episode had played through Suiren and the second the abilities had been transferred inside the girl’s body a certain blond man had entered the room, alarmed.

The girl had gently landed on her feet and in sync the stone had stopped glowing and the shaking of the building had come to a halt. Too infatuated with what happened the twins hadn’t recognised the tall being who had looked down at them with surprise---until the graceless soft cough had emitted from his mouth and quickly, their heads had snapped towards his direction.

Lord Hokage.

Who had always introduced himself as their uncle, thus in short silent speculation, the girls had wondered how in deep trouble they were in.

⋆｡‧₊°꧁ ༺𓆩❦︎𓆪༻ ꧂‧₊˚.⋆

“Entering the building at night without permission, threatening a member of the Hokage Palace, and attempt theft of a vital object---I can expect this from Suiren, but Sarada?” Naruto breathed, “how can you allow your sister to do this?”

Thus, in short remorse, Sarada had anxiously gulped down her anxiety as she puzzled the words she had wanted to use. Though, what she had wanted to say had been cut from the Hokage’s continuous complaint. “And you even allowed Suiren to take the powers from the Water Stone!”

“It’s not like I can give the power back,” Suiren said.

“God---I’m going to get in a lot of trouble with your mother---”

“You can just not tell her,” Suiren suggested and in a brief pause, Naruto shared a look with the long-haired girl who returned with a smile.

Hastily, the man sat up on his seat in deep thought, if he did play along with what Suiren had suggested, there could be many ways the outcome could manifest. “You were being irresponsible with the object,” Naruto said seriously and with how stern the man had sounded there was a quick whiplash of guilt the two girls quickly felt. “You have to tell your mother what you did and if you don’t, I’ll tell her myself.”

As kickback, the two girls gasped as they briskly shared a look with each other. “You’re being unfair!” Suiren cried out as she looked back at him, mild tears had fallen down her cheeks while Sarada placed a comforting hand against her sister’s back.

“I’m so sorry Hokage-Sama, as the older sister I should’ve been more wary,” Sarada apologised and in ponder, Naruto clasped his hands together.

“I won’t tell Sakura if Suiren makes up for it,” Naruto candidly implied and in that second, Suiren’s crocodile tears had come to a stop.

“Why do I have to be the only one to make up for it?” Suiren complained and with a knowing look, Naruto pulled himself to his feet.

“Because I know it was your idea,” he factually concluded and in a brief motion, Suiren folded her arms. “From now on, you have to babysit my daughter Himawari, starting tomorrow.”

It wasn’t like Suiren disliked Himawari, but with the gasp she had let out made it seem like she did; she had raised her hands up in defence and to influence her uncle to make another option but she was soon ushered out of the office as Lord Hokage commented that it was time for them to go back home to theiir mother.

⋆｡‧₊°꧁ ༺𓆩❦︎𓆪༻ ꧂‧₊˚.⋆

The moment the house door had been unlocked, it was revealed that a certain pink-haired woman had motioned herself to gather her coat and slippers to search for her twin daughters, yet the moment the creak of the front door had been echoed through the Uchiha home, the matriarch had set herself to be relieved that her two girls were safe.

As she dropped her keys into her coat, Sakura hastily hugged her two girls, more relieved than angry. “Where were you two?!” She exclaimed in sadness and the second Sakura had pulled away from them, hands still on both of their shoulders, green eyes had quickly examined Suiren and Sarada to check for any bruises.

“I caught them having a night-walk,” Naruto answered and as he closed the door behind him, he quickly dusted his sandals against the welcome mat. Verily, Naruto didn’t like lying to his team-mate, but he’d rather not get in trouble with the woman known for her shocking temper. “During her time off missions, Suiren is going to be baby-sitting Himawari.”

Surprised, Sakura pulled her sight to her daughter, her expression agreeable. “It’ll take her mind off it,” Sakura said as she put her coat back onto its hanger and the moment Sakura finished her quick task, she walked towards her blond team-mate while the two girls silently walked towards the sofa.

Within Sakura’s and Naruto’s brief conversation, Suiren gently nudged her elbow into Sarada’s rib, eyes glinted with mischief that had Sarada wonder if there would be an end to her play. “Look,” Suiren whispered as she forcibly made her hand glow blue, in short awe, Sarada quickly covered Suiren’s hands in attempt to make Suiren not catch the attention of their mother.

“Be less obvious,” Sarada hushed and in response Suiren blew a light raspberry.

“She’ll be starting tomorrow,” the girls heard Naruto said and quickly, Suiren peeked her head towards the two adults. “Himawari is a brilliant child, there’ll be no issues,” Naruto winked and as Suiren didn’t utter a word, Sakura gathered the moment to tell the two girls to go back to bed.

⋆｡‧₊°꧁ ༺𓆩❦︎𓆪༻ ꧂‧₊˚.⋆

It took Suiren less than five minutes to fall asleep and appear in the place she had dreamt nights before. She had observed that the place had still carried the gloomy redness she had first seen when she had first interacted with the area, but there had been a singular commodity that had changed.

It was warmer, Suiren had been grateful that she did not have to shiver and hug herself for heat thus she focused to look for the boy, as much as a hostile person he displayed himself to be, Suiren had still liked the presence he had given her, perhaps, it was because she knew there had been a more delicate personality that had been hidden under the steel-like shell. Suiren had not really been someone to continue conversing with people who had brought her nothing but rudeness. Though, as she had said before, her dreams had always had meanings and Suiren had been eager to decipher this one.

“Girl?”

Immediately, the girl had jumped, his arrival had been so airy that Suiren, the girl who had been known for her keen sensory hadn’t realised he was around till now. As she had turned to his direction, Suiren had sent him a look that displayed that she had disapproved of what he had just done. “I’m surprised to still see you here,” the boy said.

“It’s not like I wanted to be here,” Suiren replied and sassily, the girl had dropped her hand to her side as she had felt the offended look the boy had given her.

“Get out then.”

“Hmph,” Suiren rolled her eyes. “I just started dreaming, if I leave, I’ll wake up and I’m slumped.”

Silent, the boy had remained still as he had watched Suiren move closer to him, her features racy and undaunted with a hint of delicacy. “Why are you so hostile?” Suiren inquired and as much as her presence had made the boy feel nervous, he had still brought himself to furrow his eyebrows and throw a disdained look.

“Why are you so annoying?”

As a response, Suiren laughed. “The same can be asked to you,” she shrugged and offended he remained silent. His position still remained as before but his eyes shadowed every movement Suiren had made. “Where are you from?” Suiren asked, even though it was an attempt, there was a feeling that had underlined that the boy wouldn’t answer her question.

Annoyed, Suiren rolled her eyes as she strolled to where she had sat in the dream before, she had hugged herself as she pulled her legs against her chest. Quiet, the boy followed her, he still kept his distance but he had positioned himself closer than before. Patient, Suiren gently pressed the back of her head against the wall as she had waited for time to pass by.

“Are you going to sit there and wait for your energy to come back?” The boy asked and miffed, Suiren turned to look at the boy, irked.

“Well since you don’t want to have a normal conversation with me…” she trailed and annoyed, the boy pulled a face.

“We should focus on finding out why you’re here,” the boy countered and with a small tug on her lip, Suiren pulled her hands on top of her knees.

“Don’t you think answering questions about each other would help?” Suiren said, “I’ll go first, my name is Suiren.”

“That’s a pretty name,” he replied, “doesn’t it mean flint man?” He asked and the way his eyes glinted Suiren had understood that he had attempted to pull on her leg.

With a sour look on her face, Suiren turned to look away from him. “It also means lotus flower,” she said and humoured by his own comment, the boy had dryly chuckled at his own joke. “I’m also from Konoha.”

“I heard of that Village,” he commented, “I heard that the people there are known to be too nice.”

Suiren snorted in response, as she lowered her knees against her chest. “Well, I know that you’re hurt, scared and angry,” she listed as she returned her gaze to him and captured the furrowed gaze on his face. “I figured it out because this place symbolises your heart and your mind, it’s really dark and it lacks love here---”

“I’m not scared,” the boy spat and Suiren smiled.

“It’s okay to be scared,” Suiren said.

“I don’t fear anyone,” he continued.

“It’s okay to fear.”

“Who do you think you are?” The boy rudely asked. “Do you think you’re my saviour?!”

Surprised, Suiren threw her head back while a scoff had emerged from the back of her throat. “It wasn’t what I was planning to do---plus, isn’t the man supposed to be like that for the woman?”

Embarrassed, the boy turned his head away from her, unaware of the smirk that had been planted on her face. On the other hand, Suiren had then looked ahead of her. “I’ll be leaving now,” she said and as she pulled herself onto her feet, she prepared herself to leave, the boy peeled his lips separate from each other as he gathered the words to speak to her, but the girl had already left, leaving him alone in the dark abyss.

⋆｡‧₊°꧁ ༺𓆩❦︎𓆪༻ ꧂‧₊˚.⋆

♆

exactly he's perfect ₊˚⊹♡

Nct x Mila will be the death of me

𝕾𝗖𝗔𝗡𝗗𝗔𝗟𝗦, 𝓗𝗘𝗔𝗗𝗟𝗜𝗡𝗘𝗦 ❳ 𑁍 𓄹 𝙴𝙽

概括 › 𝘀𝘂𝗺𝗆𝖺𝗋𝗒 ﹕─┈ A friendly clip of MiLA and NCT DREAM go viral for not-so platonic reasons — and the ENHYPEN boys are not-so thrilled about it.

﹟ 𝘄𝖺𝗋𝗇𝗂𝗇𝗀𝘀 ፡ ፡ dating rumours, jealousy/possessiveness, not proofread, make out sessions between [ ˗ˏˋ ★ˎˊ˗ ] borders (you can skip if you feel uncomfortable)

✩ 𝗻𝗼𝗍𝖾𝗌 ᵕ̈ ིྀ ! 💍nonnie inspired me with this and this ask so shout out to you 😘 dont know how i feel about this chapter but wanted to post it in case anyone does enjoy it… might take it down later for editing but we’ll see how it goes 🤧

part i. | part ii.

MILA WAS NO STRANGER TO SCANDALS. She had been centre of a few since debut. There was the scandal about her supposedly bullying her members, the one about her apparently copying Kiara, and that one time people accused her mother of rigging the results of I-Land so that she could debut… No matter how hard she tried to be the model idol, things didn’t always work out. No one in the industry was safe.

One of Mila’s greatest accomplishments had been that she had yet to be involved in a dating scandal with another idol — a feat in this generation of Kpop, where netizens would speculate about romantic relationships between idols for simply exchanging eye contact for more than five seconds. And while she had the few ships here and there, nothing reached to a height as it did with, say, Karina and Heeseung.

But of course, there was a first time for everything.

“I’m getting ready to head off now, Oppa,” Mila called out. Pulling her satchel over body and picking another bag full of food off from the table, she prepared to leave the Enhypen dorms.

She was on her way to the SM Building for two reasons: the first was to have lunch with Aespa, and the second was to do with the bag of food she was carrying. The food in the bag that she was carrying was homemade Chinese cuisine she made for none other than her friends in NCT — Chenle and Renjun — who were part of the group’s China line, and whom she had asked to film a TikTok for ‘Sweet Venom’ together before she had lunch with the Aespa.

Mila got along well enough with the two of them at first. For a while, they weren’t really her friends as much as they were kind and gentle seniors. They looked out for her as elder artists and a shared kinship over their motherland; and she would greet them politely whenever they crossed paths at music shows or award ceremonies. Yet there wasn’t any sort of lasting bond between them.

It wasn’t until one day when Mila had offered to make some Chinese cuisine and drop it off for them — like she was doing today — and had unintentionally broken down the wall that was between them. All of a sudden, it was like she was pulled into their bubble and made one of their people. Like a baby bird taken under their wing.

“Are you sure you’re warm?” Jay asked.

Jay ran a hand through his tussled hair after giving Mila a gentle kiss on the forehead as a greeting. Since it was still early in the morning on a day off, the others were still asleep of groggy with sleep. And so, only Mila — who had to get ready and be presentable in time to leave — was fully awake.

Mila nodded. It tended to get chilly on the early hours of the morning, and Jay knew she was sensitive to colder weather. But Mila had opted to wear a warm turtleneck and a fluffy jacket over the top, so she didn’t need to worry. “Warm as a toastie.”

At that moment, Heeseung had stumbled out of his room, looking like he might topple over and fall asleep at any second now. He rubbed his eyes, pouting as he saw Mila standing in the kitchen with her bags, ready to go. “You’re leaving already?”

“Why did you get up? You should get some sleep,” Mila said.

“I wanted to see you off.” Heeseung wrapped his arms around her in a tight hug. He leant back and placed a chaste kiss to her cheek, a light smacking sound resonating as he parted. Patting her head, he smiled at her. “Have a good day, okay?”

Mila nodded with an eye-crinkling smile. “I will.”

Mila turned to Jay and wrapped her arms around his middle. “Say good morning to the others for me,” she said, as Jay stroked the top of her head and hummed in agreement. “Sorry I couldn’t help with breakfast this morning.”

Jay smiled softly. “No, it’s okay. You just have a good time out today. Don’t worry about anything else.” Jay held both her cheeks in his hand and pressed a soft kiss to her lips, sending a wave of butterflies off in her stomach. “I love you, Angel.”

“I love you more,” Mila replied instantly. She then reached out and tugged Heeseung closer so that she was hugging both Jay and him. “Love you both so much.”

Heeseung chuckled. “Love you too, baby.”

With that, the two elder members bid farewell to the girl as she skipped out of the door, before waving one last time, and following her manager to the car. Jay closed the door behind her as she left, and then the two went right back to sleep, to make the most out of this seemingly quiet day. Little did they know at the time about the buzz that would find its way to their quaint little dorm.

‿︵‿︵‿୨ ୧‿︵‿︵‿

MILA HAD A STRANGE relationship with SM Entertainment. Briefly, she remembered an encounter she had when she was at a dance competition back home in China, at the younger age of twelve. At the time, she met a beautiful woman there, who approached Mila’s mother and handed her a card with an all-too familiar logo. She claimed to be a scout from SM Entertainment, and said that Mila had the makings of an idol.

At the time, Mila had turned them down because of a lack of interest. And it wasn’t until later that Mila would learn that her dream was, in fact, to be the idol that scout saw her being.

When Mila thought about it, it seemed SM was the first to recognise her potential. And it was strange to think about the possibility of her debuting under SM in another world — especially when she had made so many friends there.

“Renjun-gē, I’m at the company now.” Mila shut the door of her van as she hopped out, her cellphone held up to her ear in one hand as the other carried the bag of food she prepared. From the other side of the line, there was a bunch of voices overlapping each other, causing Mila to tilt her head. “Are the others with you?”

While she had originally asked only Renjun and Chenle to do a TikTok with her, surprisingly enough their company suggested having the whole group film together with her — and her alone. Mila was confused but didn’t question it, seeing as Be:Lift gave permission for it. She didn’t know why, but she started to have an inkling that publicity through interactions was one of the reasons. Similar to the way Heeseung and Sunghoon had done a TikTok with Karina and Winter not too long ago.

However, Mila had yet to be on a familiar basis with the other NCT Dream members. Since they were in different generations — despite being close in age — and were her seniors in the industry by many years, they didn’t really have many reasons to become friends. But from what Renjun often said about them and what she saw of them in their content, they seemed like a fun group of people to be with. And Mila was nothing if not eager to form new connections.

“Yeah, we’re all in the practice room,” Renjun replied. He then suddenly told Mila to wait for a few seconds and yelled, “All of you be quiet! I can’t hear!” in Korean, before switching back to Chinese as he apologised to Mila. “Sorry. They’re being rowdy again.”

At that exact moment, Mila could hear Chenle’s distinctive voice yelling in the speaker, “Hi, Mila!” only to be followed by loud screams that reminded Mila of a distressed dolphin. Mila laughed. “It’s okay,” she told him while laughing, “Me and my manager are going to enter now. See you soon.”

With that, Mila entered the SM Building, and made her way to the practice room floors. And that was how Mila and her manager ended up at one of the dance practice rooms, filled with a rowdy bunch of males who didn’t realise she was there until she was almost hit in the face by a stray shoe.

Mila instinctively ducked and covered her head as the shoe hit the ceiling with a ‘thwack,’ before falling to the floor in front of her. Looking startled and confused, she uncovered her head looked up to see Lee Haechan in front of her with both hands over his mouth and wide eyes.

“Oh, sorry,” he said awkwardly.

At that moment someone in the background had stumbled out from the closet, which was originally being held closed by a startled-looking Na Jaemin. Mark Lee’s head was darting around everywhere as he struggled to find his balance.

“Where did my shoe—!” Mark stopped mid-sentence when Jeno cleared his throat, and the older male froze like a mannequin when he made eye contact with a sheepish Mila. “…Go…?”

Park Jisung scratched the back of his neck and awkwardly turned to Chenle, who was holding his stomach from laughing at the events that unfolded. Renjun face palmed in the background. Mila smiled hesitantly, before offering a polite bow.

“Hello, sunbaenims.”

‿︵‿︵‿୨ ୧‿︵‿︵‿

MILA WOULDN’T HAVE GUESSED from first impressions that NCT Dream were made up mostly of introverts. But somehow — as if abiding by the law of “opposites attract” — it had made things easier for Mila to get along with them, despite their initial awkwardness.

“Wah, this looks good!” Chenle said as finally looked inside the bag of dishes Mila prepared for them. (Once the Dream managers arrived at the practice room, a few minutes after Mila, they went straight into the professional business of today’s agenda, leaving little time for Mila and the Chinese boy to catch up. “Thanks a lot, Mila! You’re the best! The WayV hyungs will be so jealous.”

Mila shook her hands in denial and smiled as Chenle walked off to show off Mila’s gifts to Renjun. She smiled and turned to the three members standing with her: Jeno, Jaemin and Jisung.

Because there were so many people in the one TikTok, they would be doing several different groupings with Mila in a single take: starting with the maknae line (Chenle and Jisung), then Mila and the 00-line (Jeno, Jaemin, Renjun, and Haechan) and then her and Mark. There were bound to be some mistakes, so the TikTok didn’t end in just one attempt. But rather than feel annoyed, Mila quite enjoyed the chance she got to interact with the seniors.

“By the way, how old are you?” Jaemin asked suddenly. Mila hummed and lowered her drink bottle as she looked at the male, who reminded her somewhat of Sunghoon for reasons she couldn’t quite pin down. (Later she would realise it was because they were both handsome but very chaotic,l introverts, who seemed quiet at first, but were far from it.) “Is Jisung older than you?”

Mila nodded as she made eye contact with the youngest of the group. While it was true that he was older — and the same age as Enhypen’s 02z — Mila couldn’t help but see him in the same light as one might regard a baby chick. Something about him didn’t radiate the same air of maturity (or dare she say, sexiness?) that Jake, Jay and Sunghoon did.

“That’s right,” she replied, as if she herself had forgotten about that fact. “I’m a year younger. Born in 2003.”

“Wah.” Jisung had a shocked expression on his face, while his hyungs laughed at him. It was no secret that the once youngest idol to debut was awkward when meeting others younger than him. But this time in particular, he seemed even shyer than usual. “I can’t believe it…”

“Oh, so we’re all your oppas? You’re the youngest one here?” Jeno asked with a shocked expression. He had been maybe the easiest to get along with — not because the others were difficult, but simply for his smile, which reminded her of the warm eye-smile of Sunoo, and instantly made her feel comfortable. Mila smiled and nodded at his question. “What about in your group? Are you the maknae.”

“I’m the youngest girl, but there are three other members who are younger than me,” Mila explained. “Our maknae, Ni-Ki, was born in 2005. Our oldest, Heeseungie-oppa, is the same age as Chenle-oppa.”

“What about me?” As if on cue, Chenle walked into the frame. “Oh, by the way— I was just telling Renjun-hyung, and we think you’re the only ‘E’ type here.”

“Right!” Mila said, before clicking her fingers. “I was just thinking about how I heard from someone before that almost all of you are ‘I’.” She then gasped. “Wait, this is an important question: Are you guys ‘F’ or ‘T’?”

“I’m a ‘T’,” Jisung replied. Mila made an “oh” expression and nodded slowly, causing the others to laugh. Meanwhile, Jisung blinked in confusion. The first thing he thought of was Eunchae’s viral ‘Anti-T’ meme, and wondered if Mila was the same. “Why? Do you not like ‘T’?”

Mila shook her head vigorously. “No!” she denied vehemently. “I really like ‘T’!”

“Oh, that’s me.” Mark suddenly joined in with a raised his hand. He and the members of Dream — Haechan, Renjun, and Mark — walked over to join the smaller group after returning from their bathroom break. “I’m a ‘T’, too,” he clarified.

Mila turned and said, with an utmost serious expression, “Then I like you.”

Mark froze and opened his mouth. But no words came out, and he stood there like a gaping fish, unable to respond to Mila’s words — which suspiciously sounded like a confession, though they were anything but. It wasn’t that he felt she meant it in that way, or that he necessarily wished for her to, but that it was so sudden he was taken off guard. He couldn’t help but be flustered.

The other Dreamies laughed from around him, and his face turned a bright shade of pink. Coughing into his fist, Mark turned around to hide his blush.

Mila, on the other hand, paid no attention to it. She instantly made her way over to her manager when the older woman called her over to look at the last take they did of the TikTok. Slowly the others made their way over, and they all watched the footage on Mila’s manager’s phone.

“Wait,” Mila said as she squinted, “Do I really look like that?”

“Like what?” Haechan asked. “Do you mean the shape of your hair? Or your facial expression.”

Mila burst out laughing. “No, what I mean is— why does my face look a little puffy?” Mila squished her cheeks as she furrowed her eyebrows in concentration. “Or is it just me? Do I look like that?”

The boys loooed between the screen and Mila and shook their heads. Jaemin in particular — who was leaning down next to her — took a not-so discrete scan of her entire face, before smiling kindly at the girl. “No,” he reassured. “You look better in real life.”

Mila looked at him before laughing, half in shock and half because she didn’t know what a proper response was. For someone who received a lot of compliments, it was sure difficult to know how to respond to them. However, she was saved from the awkwardness as the others laughed along with her, creating a cheerful, friendly atmosphere.

Looking back, she might not have been as careless as she was if she knew what would happen later on. But she couldn’t have known that the entirety of their interactions together were caught on camera. Nor did she know they would be posted as Behind The Scenes shoots, for the rest of the world to see — and to speculate about.

‿︵‿︵‿୨ ୧‿︵‿︵‿

‘GOOD WORK TODAY.’

Mila smiled as she read the new message she received in her group chat with the NCT Dream members. Briefly, she considered the thought of introducing Kiara and the Dream members — and she smiled wickedly at the thought of giving the elder female’s boyfriend reason to be jealous. After all, Kiara was a big fan of Mark’s before she debuted…

Mila was cut off from her thoughts when she spotted Aespa heading towards her. After singing a quick ‘Thank you’ with an emoticon, Mila quickly shut off her phone and greeted the older girls with a smile and warm hugs. For the next few hours, Mila left her phone untouched and simple enjoyed the presence of the Aespa girls as they enjoyed their brunch and caught up on all the latest gossip.

Mila just didn’t realise she would be one of those topics.

“Oh—” NingNing paused mid-sip of her drink. She had pulled her phone out to bring up a TikTok to show Mila, only to be surprised by what she saw. NingNing turned to Mila with a surprised expression. “Mimi-yah, you and NCT Dream-sunbaenims are trending.”

Mila hummed calmly. She had expected this to happen after all. “I guess the TikTok got uploaded.”

Karina furrowed her eyebrows and leaned over, before her mouth parted in shock. “No, Mimi-yah… It’s not just the TikTok.”

Karina took the phone from NingNing, and held it up so Mila could see the screen. From either sides of her, Giselle and Winter leaned in closer to get a better look. Mila’s jaw dropped as she saw the one thing she didn’t expect to be uploaded — her interactions with the NCT Dream members. Specifically, the ones that were easy to twist and misunderstand.

“Then I like you, too.” Mila’s face in the clipped video on the TikTok NingNing found made her cringe at how easy it was to misinterpret out of context. That clip was then followed by the clip of Jaemina looking her up and down and telling her, “No. You look better in real life.”

Mila paled. It took a few seconds for adrenaline to kick in, and then all of a sudden, she was fumbling for her phone. The first thing she did was open her phone and check her group chat messages with the boys, and sighed heavily when she saw a bunch of spammed messages from them.

Mila was looking forward to this lunch for a long time. But as soon as Jay said ‘we need you,’ nothing else matter. She was halfway through reading the word ‘need’ before she was packing her bag and bidding farewell to Aespa, before sprinting her way to the lobby, where she had texted her manager to meet her.

The last thing Mila wanted was not to be there when her men needed her reassurance the most. She didn’t care if she had to drag her manager by the wrist like a scene in a Kdrama — all that mattered was getting back to them. (And preferably before Sunghoon got his hands on any of her plushies.)

‿︵‿︵‿୨ ୧‿︵‿︵‿

MILA WASN’T SURPRISED TO see Heeseung standing there at the car park, waiting for her. If she knew him well enough, she would say that he used his matthyung card to make the others stay inside while he quickly got some alone time with her before they inevitably started to bicker about the trending tag.

He had his arms crossed over his chest as he stood tall, stance wide. Mila quickly bid farewell to her manager — who decided to let Mila and Heeseung go off to the dorms alone — and ran up to Heeseung before throwing her arms around him in a tight hug.

“I’m sorry you had to see that, Oppa,” she said sincerely. “I didn’t mean for it to happen…”

Looking up at Heeseung, Mila frowned as she looked into his eyes, trying to find something. It wasn’t usual for him to be this quiet around her, so she worried that the clips got to him more than she expected. Now that she thought about it, he was unusually quiet on the group chat as well…

“Are you okay?”

Heeseung didn’t say anything, simply caressing her cheek, and then letting his hand fall to her wrist. “Let’s go,” he said softly. And without another word, he gently pulled her along behind him as he made his way to the elevator. She could feel the tension in his shoulders as if it were her own. And while she wasn’t intimidated by him in any way (he was Heeseung, after all), she couldn’t help but feel a little helpless seeing him this quiet.

As the elevator door opened, Heeseung placed a hand on her lower back, before gently ushering her in. He didn’t say a word to her, only pursing his lips as he nonchalantly pressed the button to the floor to their rooms. It was silent, save for the sound of the mechanisms of the lift in operation.

Mila bit her lip nervously. “Oppa—”

[ ˗ˏˋ ★ˎˊ˗ ]

Mila didn’t get a chance to finish before Heeseung had backed her up against the wall of the elevator, her lips colliding with hers. She gasped at the sudden contact, her fingers subconsciously reaching up to grasp his shoulders, while his arms came up to cage her in on both sides of her head. Yet, she didn’t feel trapped — only comforted by the closeness of his body to hers.

Yes, this was the Heeseung she came to know. The one who craved touch more than space; the one who would breathe in her kisses, even if it meant losing air. From the way his mouth fitted against hers — latching on like it was the bridge directly to her heart, mind and soul — to the way his hand reached up to cup her jaw, as if doing so meant holding the cusp of the world… All of it was so Heeseung, Mila didn’t know what to do without it.

He didn’t say a word, but she understood him anyway.

I love you, he said with his kisses. I’m yours, he admitted with a sigh. And you’re mine, screamed his touch.

She tugged on the strands of his hair, standing right up on her tip toes, and he hummed approvingly into her mouth, before pushing his body right up against hers. Her heart was erratic against his chest, and his grip was firm on her skin. Deep and passionate were his kisses, making her knees weak and her stomach flutter.

Then all too soon, it was over. He pulled away as if someone had been dragging him away by the collar. Hesitant. He sighed the moment his eyes met hers, before flickering down to her swollen lips. The flames in his dark orbs flickered out and he swiped a thumb against her bottom lip.

[ ˗ˏˋ ★ˎˊ˗ ]

“Sorry,” he said hoarsely. “I just… After I saw all that… I really needed you.”

“And you have me,” Mila said with a smile, reaching up to cup Heeseung’s face, before pressing a chaste kiss to his cheek. His eyes fluttered closed, melting instantly under her affectionate actions. “You always will. I’m right here.”

Heeseung smiled gently before turning to kiss the inside of her hand, just as the elevator door dinged. “I wanted to be selfish and steal you away for a little bit… But we should talk properly with the others.”

Mila laughed. “We definitely should.”

With that, the two walked into the dorms, hand in hand, where the others awaited them impatiently in the living room, as if they had a million things to say.

‿︵‿︵‿୨ ୧‿︵‿︵‿

“I’M HOME.”

Mila laughed helplessly as she was met with the sight of Riki side-eyeing her from where he sat on the couch, his expression set in stone. She bit back a smile at the endearing sight of him and the rest of her boyfriends sulking in the middle of the dorms.

“Did you have fun?” he asked deeply, his voice reverberating through the silent air of the living room. Unsurprisingly, there was a colourful range of reactions to the clips — but they all had the same undertone of envious green. “You and your friends were cute.”

Mila smiled and took off her shoes. Without a word, she walked over and sat beside the younger before hugging his arm, pulling his hand onto her lap. “You’re cuter.”

Riki huffed and turned away, but the way he laced his fingers through Mila’s was enough to tell her that she succeeded in lowering his guard. From beside Riki, Jake faced Mila with his enticing lips pulled into a frown. “Why are you only complimenting him? I’m a ‘T’, too.”

Mila smiled. She knew where he was going with the last statement, but letting him bait her anyway, to enable his sulking. If not to get it out of his system, then so she could spoil him later. “What’s that got to do with anything?”

“‘I really like ‘T’!” Sunoo imitated Mila’s voice, reciting her words from earlier. He then gasped dramatically and said, in the same high-pitched voice, “‘Oh, you’re ‘T’, too? Then I like you.’” Sunoo scoffed. “Seriously, why don’t you just confess your love to them while you’re at it.”

While he knew Mila’s words were taken out of context, he still felt slightly offended that she only mentioned liking ‘T’ types, when he himself was an ‘F’. So he thought he would give her minor grievance out of pettiness — though not in a way that would cause her to feel guilty.

Mila burst out laughing. She reached over and pulled Sunoo’s hand into her lap while he pouted, turning his head away in a similarly haughty manner to Riki. Mila smiled. “You know what I meant by that.”

“Still, there’s the, ‘You look better in real life,’” Jay said, a sneer on his face to show how strongly he felt while watching that particular scene. Sitting in his chair with his legs spread and his chin rested on his fist, he looked at Mila with an unreadable expression. “I don’t like the way he looked at you, Angel.”

“You were so pretty today, too,” Sunghoon added, his eyes trialing over her form head to toe. “And they got to compliment you and see you all dolled up before I did…”

Mila bit her lip. “Even if he looked at me in any way that wasn’t friendly, I wouldn’t care. I don’t really mind what others think about how I look,” she said. Then, with a slight blush, she added, “I mean— I’ve gotten used to be calling ‘pretty’… But I only get flustered when it’s from one of you.”

“Really?” Sunghoon was standing with his arms crossed against the wall, his biceps bulging against the material of his shirt in a way that momentarily stole Mila’s focus. He smirked slightly at the sight of her distracted gaze, before raising an eyebrow tauntingly. She pursed her lip as he regarded her with his intense gaze. “What else, Princess?”

Jungwon scoffed. “Can you not do foreplay in the middle of the living room? We’re right here, you know.”

“Whatever.” Jay threw his hands up in the air, before leaning back in his chair as if he were unbothered by everything around him. (He wasn’t.) “It’s not like you wanted for this to happen. All I know is that I’m not going anywhere near TikTok for the next month.“ Jay paused and then held up his arms towards Mila. “Come here. I want to hold my girl.”

Mila smiled. Riki and Sunoo, who were still giving her the silent treatment, let out little laughs of their own, their shoulders shaking as they tried their best not to break character. After giving last squeeze to both their hands, she kissed the both of them on the cheeks. Then Mila stood to walk over to Jay so she could comfort him — only to be pulled down into Jake’s lap as she passed by.

“There,” Jake said. “That’s much better.” He wrapped his arms around her waist, ignoring the glare from Jay. Jake then nuzzled his nose into Mila’s neck, humming contently as he inhaled the scent of her perfume. “Bet they didn’t get to hold you like this, huh?”

Mila shook her head vigorously. “Of course not.” She turned around and faced Jake with sincere eyes. “I don’t want to be held by anyone but you.”

Jake chuckled. “That’s right…” He closed his eyes as he placed a chaste kiss on her neck. When he spoke again, his voice came out muffled, as if he were drunk on her scent. “That’s our girl.”

Jungwon sighed from beside Jake. The young leader gave Jake an unimpressed glare. And though he whined, the same male relented and released his hold. Jungwon immediately pounced on the chance and pulled Mila towards him, nuzzling her the same way Jake did.

“It was so annoying,” he said. “People kept calling you guys cute together and everything… I wanted to hit them through the screen.” He frowned as he rested his chin on her shoulder, eyes lidded as they were trained on her lips. “You’re ours.”

Mila cooed as she cupped the younger’s cheek, pressing soft kisses to his dimple.

“That’s right,” she said. “I know it sucks, I get how it feels. But know that I’m not interested in anything anyone else has to say. You’re the only ones I want and ever will want. That hasn’t changed.”

She smiled as she looked around the room.

“The NCT Dream-sunbaenims will be good friends, but that’s all they are or will ever be. I’m younger than their maknae, who they treat as a baby — they probably see me as their younger sister, if anything. They’re far from falling in love with me. And as for me… Well, you know I love you.” She then recited one of her favourite quotes: “‘And if I loved you any less, I might be able to talk about it more.’”

There was a sweet pause on the sitting room, as the tension faded way. Heeseung smiled as he took a seat next to Jay, after having observed everything from the entry. It seemed Mila could take care of everything fine. Then again, that was to be expected.

“I’m really sorry that you had to see this go trending for that reason…” Mila frowned. “I didn’t know they would post those clips, considering how easy it would be for shippers to take it out of context.”

“No, don’t apologise,” Heeseung said softly. “We know it’s not your fault, and I still don’t know why the company let that be posted… But we love your smile, and how you make others smile too. Don’t lose that for anyone. Not even if you think it’s to protect our feelings.”

“If you’re ever scared about what we might think,” Jay added, “Then don’t be. Even if we get jealous, we just wanted you to be happy.”

“Hyung’s right,” Riki said with a smile, breaking his vow of silence against her. “I think it would be sadder if we saw you go viral for looking sad. I’d rather see you smiling, even if it’s not with us.”

Mila blinked, her chest feeling warm. She as just grateful that the boys didn’t blame her — but that they also didn’t expect her to change the way she interacted with other people for the sake of the public’s opinions. She giggled.

“Same goes for you,” she said. “Let me spoil you when you need it. Right now, just let me know what you need. This is about you and how you feel.”

“Well I still haven’t gotten to hold you,” Jay said, looking at Jungwon, who pretended not to hear him as he held onto Mila in a possessive grip, too busy placing chaste kisses on her neck to talk.

“And I still haven’t gotten my kiss.” Sunghoon pouted at Mila, and then suddenly turned to Jay. “Your plushie is going to be the first to go.”

Heeseung tried (in vain) to calm them down. “Okay, let’s leave the plushies out of this.”

Sunoo turned to Heeseung with suspicious eye. “By the way, Hyung, what did you talk about before you got back with Byeol? It was really unfair that you got to her first — I think we should cut down your cuddle time with her to make things even.”

“I dibs the extra hours!” Riki said, raising his hand.

“Why would you get them?” Jake asked incredulously. “No way in hell, man.”

Mila laughed. As she watched the the boys bicker, she started to plot mischievously about how to turn around the situation in their favour. She knew the company wouldn’t take any action against them, either, as long as there was a positive response from fans. So a little more ship moments wouldn’t hurt, right? What was a little teasing for fans?

(Just a few days later, NCT Dream and Mila’s interactions were blown out of the trending list by Mila and the boys’ most recent, incredibly cute, incredibly suspicious ship moments.)

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emergency contact | park sunghoon x reader

prompt: weeks after your breakup, sunghoon finds out that he’s still your emergency contact. pairing: non-idol sunghoon x implied female reader genre: angst with hopeful/happy? ending; second chance romance??; exes to lovers??? word count: 2800 note: i’ve had a cute fic idea that i wanted to write forever…but this is not it. the sad demons have visited me once again. hope y’all enjoy nevertheless and any feedback is much appreciated <3

sunghoon was miserable. 

it had been three weeks, five days, two hours, and thirty-two minutes since the two of you had gone no contact.

he wished he could say he was happy to be single, that he was no longer “locked down” and “whipped” as his friends had always called him. but the so-called “freedom” felt like hell since it meant losing you.

at first, he kept telling himself that time would heal the pain. “it’s natural,” he had repeated like a mantra, “she was your best friend and lover for years.” but no, this heartbreak was inhumane. his desire to see you, apologize endlessly, and spend days holding you until you could feel every ounce of his love was gnawing at his soul. if anything, it got worse by the minute.

he had tried so hard to balance work and the rest of his life, using the excuse several times that he was securing this future for your shared life with him. that one day, you’d be able to reap the rewards of his efforts and live comfortably together without stress.

but what was the use of all of that now? the future he had worked so hard to create was ripped out from his hands by no one other than himself. 

you had accused him of being too busy for you. dates canceled at the last minute, a birthday forgotten, and all the texts left on read had built up to the argument that ended it all. he was always good at fighting, a little too good. he had retorted that you weren’t being supportive, and he was never one to sugarcoat his words. his tongue was sharp, and he did nothing to dull its blade.

but there wasn’t too much yelling on your part, and he thought that that hurt more. he wanted you to fight back, to stand your ground because he knew deep down that he was being the asshole. his toxic thought was that by you fighting back, this meant that you were still fighting for your relationship. but instead, you just stared with silent tears and a blank expression. seeing the indifference in eyes that had previously held so much love was a sight that would stay with him forever. so, in fear of you leaving, he ran instead.

he was a coward, leaving your shared home to run back to the apartment he had still technically owned but hadn’t lived in for more than a year. he locked himself away for a few days, but the realization that you hadn’t attempted to contact him burned more than he could put into words. you were done with him. he had hurt you, had the audacity to be the one to run, and now he had lost you.

he had even run from his job. he couldn’t stand to walk into the same building he stayed in when he forgot dates with you. his coworkers wouldn’t stop asking what happened to him, why he looked so rough. he even found an empty container that had once held lunch you made for him. but his final straw was getting promoted. his first instinct was to call you, but he remembered the sad truth before he could dial. any ounce of pride was washed away with shame in that moment. that same day, he quit without notice.

so there he was: miserable, alone, and unemployed with nothing left to run from but memories. he had spent the last week going through his phone and saving your pictures together in a locked album. he wouldn’t dare delete them, but he couldn’t stomach looking at you either.

he wished he could get drunk and sleep away the pain. he had tried, he definitely did - but that night, he dreamt of you. you were smiling at first, eyes ever full of love. you were speaking, yet he couldn’t hear you. but he could see how your words started to gradually look sadder, and slowly, tears started to fall as your grin dropped. he woke up that next morning crying with the conclusion that he would have to face this heartbreak sober.

but another day of scrolling through albums had stopped abruptly when he saw the notification that changed everything.

SOS i called emergency services from this approximate location after my watch detected a hard fall. you are receiving this message because i have you listed as my emergency contact.

sunghoon had to remind himself to breathe.

he had purchased that watch for you as a “just because” present months ago. you had complained of bad sleep and he wanted you to use it as a way to track your slumber. he hated seeing you tired. he knew that the watch had a fall detection function, but it had never been used before.

his heart was in his stomach as he went to his favorite contacts page and selected your name for the first time in weeks.

“please,” he begged, all notion of running away from you leaving his brain, “pick up please.”

but you just weren’t answering. so he tried again and again and again.

for a moment while the line attempted to connect, he wondered if this was how he had made you feel for months - desperate for a sliver of attention from him. but instead, he was desperate for a sign of life.

finally, after about two minutes of trying to reach you, his body moved of its own accord. before he knew it, his car keys were in his hands and he was out the door.

the car ride there might have been the worst part. the speed at which he drove at almost defied the laws of physics. other drivers were cursing at him but he wasn’t registering anything except the thought of your safety. he just needed to get to you.

why did he run? why didn’t he try to talk it out? if he was so afraid of losing you, why did he do the one thing that would guarantee that? he should have been there like he promised to be from the beginning. you would have been safe with him.

when he pulled up to the house you had shared for so long, he suddenly felt the world slow down. why were emergency services there? you should’ve canceled them by now.

he had to double park as the ambulance was blocking the driveway. why were they here?

the emts and police had arrived at the same time as him, which both increased his anxiety and soothed him. for one, that meant he had been quick enough. but why did you need them?

“sir, do you know–” an officer had approached him as he stumbled to the front door. all he could understand was your name. why were they asking if he knew you? of course he knew you. you, the love of his life. you, his soulmate by every meaning of the word. you were you. and you were safe.

as if sensing his distress, he felt an emt worker pull him to the side as the same officer prepared to break down the door. seeing this, sunghoon finally returned to his senses.

“w-wait! sorry, i have a key.” sunghoon’s hands were shaking. the only way that door had unlocked was by pure muscle memory because he didn’t understand what he was doing at all.

as soon as the door opened, sunghoon tried to step in. finally, he was close to you. 

the officer, however, pulled him back.

“sir, you should wait here. we need to make an initial search before you can go in.”

“what, why? if she’s in there, i want to see–”

“sir, it’s just in case we find something we wouldn’t want you to see.”

all of sunghoon’s hesitation and fear went out the window at those words. his body flew automatically as he ran inside.

he screamed your name as he rushed in, ignoring the yells of the police officers who followed him in. as it had been for almost four weeks, his only thought was you. he just needed you.

he checked the ground floor first, eyes scanning the open space in less than a second as his body avoided an officer trying to grab him. sunghoon then moved to the staircase, long legs prepared to skip steps to reach you. then suddenly, he heard the voice his ears had been longing for,

“sunghoon?!”

his head shot up. there you were, finally. he saw the sadness, confusion, and fear all flash your face as you registered the emergency workers behind him. you looked exhausted and unruly, but he had never felt more in love.

he didn’t even remember climbing the steps, but suddenly he was at the top of the staircase and you were in his arms. 

you could feel him trembling as he held you. you took his face into your hands to look at him, “sunghoon? what’s wrong? why are you here? is it my parents? is someone hurt?” you watched as his mouth opened but no words came out. after a few seconds, one of the officers spoke from the bottom of the steps,

“ma’am, we received an alert from your device that a hard fall had occurred.”

suddenly, you understood everything. taking sunghoon’s hand gently, you led him down the stairs, afraid he’d fall from shock. he followed you silently, but his grip tightened seemingly with every step.

that’s when you noticed your shattered watch on the third step.

you let sunghoon go and you could hear his deep breath when you did. you picked up the watch and offered it up to the officer as an explanation, “i’m sorry officer, it looks like there’s been a misunderstanding…”

the officer nodded in understanding, and dismissed the emts, “got it, ma’am. we will still need a formal report for our records since this was registered as an emergency call.” he motioned to your couch as he took out a pen and paper.

you reached for sunghoon’s hand once more and led him to sit with you. in the moment, you knew he needed you more than you would ever understand. so, as you explained to the officer, you held his trembling hand, rubbing soothing circles with your thumb.

“i was doing laundry here downstairs and had taken off my watch to prevent it from getting wet,” you recounted, “i put it on top of the basket of clothes that i took upstairs. i remember tripping a little going up the stairs - i didn’t fall, but that must’ve been when the watch fell."

"what about your phone, where is it? i'm sure your boyfriend must've tried to call you."

sunghoon slowly nodded at that, turning to look at you. you smiled sheepishly, "i left it upstairs and it was on silent while i folded the clothes. i’m so sorry for the inconvenience.”

after finishing up your statement, the remaining officer prepared to leave. as he walked out the door, he gave a soft smile to the both of you,

“glad to see it was a false alarm, ma’am. you had this gentleman quite worried - ran so fast i couldn’t even grab him!” the officer laughed, “you two have a nice day now! sorry about your watch, though!”

after he shut your door, the silence enveloped your home. you closed your eyes and breathed deeply to prepare to speak to your ex-boyfriend. but as soon as you opened them, sunghoon started to cry softly.

he hugged you tighter than he ever had, and soon enough, his face was buried in your neck. his cries were silent, but you could feel his body shaking as his tears soaked your shirt.

“sunghoon…” you started, stroking his back, “i’m sorry i worried you, honey.”

you knew you shouldn’t be calling your ex pet names, especially an ex that had run from you without properly ending the relationship. but your heart still held so much love for him that it flowed out naturally. and you knew he was crying from more than just worry, so you doubt he minded at all in the moment.

his crying slowed down as his arms took to loosely wrapping around your waist instead. he pulled away from your neck to rest his forehead on yours. from this angle, you could see his swollen eyes and red nose - a sight so rare in all the years you had dated. he was never a crier after all.

but memories of several late-night conversations rushed your mind. he always said his number one fear was your death, and now you could see he had never lied about that.

he could see your mind go elsewhere so he called your name softly, “don’t say you’re sorry. i’m so happy, these are relieved tears. and i just really, really missed you.” he croaked out. you knew he had more to say, so you just nodded, letting him go on.

“and i’m sorry, baby. for everything. i shouldn’t have run, i shouldn’t have tried to egg you on to fight me back. i shouldn’t have even fought anything you said that night. you were right. i didn’t prioritize you. in my attempt to secure you for life, i let you go instead. i’m so sorry, i never wanted to break up.” he was rambling in earnest now, afraid that no words would make you take him back.

you listened quietly as he went on for a few minutes after that, hand continuing to rub his back, “i know honey, i know.”

“baby, you need to understand that i almost died thinking you almost died today,” you could’ve laughed at how dramatically he spoke, “i couldn’t breathe right thinking that our last conversation could’ve been an argument. that you wouldn't have ever known just how deeply i love you and need you. i have so much regret for how i treated you, but if you’d give me the chance, i have all the time in the world to make it up to you…let’s go on that vacation i promised you. we can leave tomorrow if you’d like.” he smiled hopefully at you.

“hoon,” his heart soared at the use of his beloved nickname, “what do you mean? don’t you have work? can you really leave with such short notice?”

“i quit my job.”

“excuse me?”

“no job that made me work that much is worth it. i’ll find one with better work-life balance…after our vacation. if that’s what you still want of course…” he spoke more quietly, as if afraid of rejection.

you sighed. you really should be realistic with this - you two had been broken up for a few weeks at that point. you knew the love was still there, but was this a good decision?

while there was still some hesitation on your part, you couldn't help but notice how gingerly he held you. his arms were still around your waist loosely, yet there was something desperate about their hold. you knew he was holding back from hurting you - you could tell how tightly he wanted to hug you.

he was so shaken up at the idea of you being hurt that he rushed over there despite the two of you not being on speaking terms. for someone who had trouble communicating how he felt sometimes, you knew his actions spoke louder than words. he always acted brave, but there was so much he feared. and you knew losing you was always at the top of this list.

you could also feel how he was simply soaking in the sight of your face. his eyes were shy, yet determined. he wasn't going to risk missing another second of staring at you. a part of you grew conscious, but you knew he was just taking in what he had missed for weeks.

“what about…” you started and almost giggled at how he perked up, “we take it slow - another two weeks or so to talk everything out and relax? to get us to a good place again before you hold me hostage in some foreign country?”

sunghoon smiled softly, kissing your forehead. you leaned in naturally to his warmth, to his touch that you missed so much. “that sounds like a great idea, love.” he spoke, “we’ll get you a new watch too. and i’ll do all the itinerary planning and packing whenever you’re ready, okay? i love you.”

“okay. and i love you too. can’t wait to enjoy your unemployment with you for now!”

one smile and nod from you had him taking you into his arms once more, relishing in your being. he was back where he belonged. he had experienced the scariest reminder ever that he needed you, and sunghoon was never letting you go now.

[JUNGWON] Happy Jjongday🔥🔥

I LOVED YOU FIRST PT3 | FC43

part one | part two |

an: this is the most requested part three. i fell asleep so many times writing this but i’m waiting for tate’s new song so it gave me something to do. not proof read.

wc: 8.3k

It was nearly dawn when Franco turned off the engine, but the silence felt hollow. He sat motionless in the cockpit of his car, his hands still gripping the wheel even though he had finished his lap over an hour ago. The empty track stretched before him, a stark grey line splitting the waking sky, and for a fleeting moment, he considered taking off down it one more time, just for the noise.

That had been the only reason he'd even bothered coming out this morning. Noise. Anything loud enough to cut through the thick numbness that had settled over his life the last two years. Even racing—his childhood dream, his only real thrill—felt distant, just another repetition in an endless loop of things he used to care about.

He let go of the wheel, his fingers stiff and aching, and slumped back into his seat. The inside of the car still smelled new, though he’d driven this car all season. But everything in his life felt new in the wrong way, like he was breaking in someone else's skin.

Franco closed his eyes, but there was no escape there either. As much as he tried to avoid it, the image still came easily: two years ago, his wedding day. The hushed gasp of the guests as he had walked back down the aisle alone, the weight of his father-in-law’s hand on his shoulder. And her eyes—his childhood best friend, his first love, his confession to her still raw in his throat. He'd bared his heart, thought he was finally doing the right thing, only to watch her turn him down, her gaze steady and unwavering.

It was strange how clearly he could remember it. She had moved on. He was too late.

And yet here he was, two years later, sitting in the emptiness his choices had carved out. His marriage was the result of the aftermath—inevitable, unstoppable, once her father had coerced him into making it right. He’d been a fool to think he could live with it, that he could somehow build a life out of that hollowed-out choice. But every day he woke up, and every day it was the same. A stranger beside him, a public charade. He was trapped in a marriage more binding than he had ever imagined, one that had closed off any other life he might have had.

A tap on the side of the car startled him out of his thoughts. His agent, Eddie, looked at him expectantly, his face creased with concern. Franco forced himself to meet his gaze, pulling on a blank expression he’d perfected over the last two years.

"You good, man?" Eddie's voice sounded so distant for some reason.

Franco forced a nod. “Just getting in some practice.”

Eddie raised an eyebrow. "You finished over an hour ago."

Franco shrugged, not offering any other excuse. What could he say? That he no longer felt the rush, that even the raw thrill of racing at 200 miles per hour left him feeling nothing? It would be admitting too much. He wasn’t sure he could handle what Eddie would say if he knew.

As he finally climbed out of the car, his gaze drifted toward the track, that endless stretch of asphalt, and for just a second, he felt a flicker of what it used to mean to him. Freedom, purpose, maybe even love. But that had been before her—before he had thrown it all away, thinking he could have her back. And now all he was left with was this: the shadow of a life he hadn’t chosen, the memory of a love that had been real once, and a future he couldn’t bring himself to face.

Franco shook his head, stuffing the thought away. "Let’s just get through today" he muttered to himself, the words a quiet vow.

Tomorrow, he’d put on the act again.

The house was silent when Franco walked in. He closed the door softly, slipping off his shoes out of habit rather than any real desire to keep the peace. She was there, sitting in the dimly lit living room, curled on one end of the couch with her legs tucked under her. A book lay open on her lap, though her eyes weren’t moving over the words.

They hadn’t spoken much in days, maybe even weeks, except for the occasional small-talk exchange over morning coffee or at some public event. When they were alone, it was as if they were two strangers who’d agreed on a routine. She looked up as he walked in, and he wondered if she was waiting for him to speak first.

But he didn’t. He simply nodded, moving past her as if it were just another evening in this quiet, loveless house. He heard her shift, a quick intake of breath, and he paused, feeling her eyes on his back.

“I cheated,” she said, her voice flat, almost as if it were a statement she’d practised a thousand times, something she needed to let out before it grew stale.

Franco slowly turned to face her, letting the words settle, though he didn’t feel anything sharp or raw. Instead, there was just the dull, familiar weight of something like resignation. He studied her face, waiting for the anger or betrayal to come, but there was nothing. Just the same emptiness that had been there for two years.

“Okay,” he said, his voice calm, resigned.

She blinked, her expression faltering. “Okay?” she repeated, as if she hadn’t expected that response. Her brow furrowed, and she set her book aside, sitting up straighter. “That’s it? Just… okay?”

He shrugged, slipping his hands into his pockets. “What do you want me to do about it? You’ve already done it.”

She searched his face, a flicker of frustration and hurt sparking in her eyes. “Why aren’t you angry, Franco?” Her voice was louder now, cracking slightly. “Why don’t you care? Why don’t you… love me? What did I do wrong?”

For the first time that evening, he felt something stir. Not anger, exactly, but a kind of distant ache. He looked at her—really looked at her—and saw the exhaustion in her face, the years of pretending, of building a life on a foundation that had never been real. And he knew, somehow, that she felt as trapped as he did.

“This isn’t about what you did wrong,” he said quietly. “I just… I don’t have it in me to love you, not in the way you want.”

She shook her head, her eyes brimming with frustration. “But we were supposed to be in this together. My father… Your team. The whole world expects it. I have tried, Franco. I’ve done everything I could to make this work. I just wanted you to see me, to try…”

He sighed, looking away. “We’ve been pretending for two years. It’s not that I haven’t seen you—I just don’t think we were ever meant to see each other this way.”

Her shoulders slumped, the fight draining out of her. She stared at her hands, twisted together in her lap. “So what now? We just keep living like this, sharing the same house, putting on a show for everyone?”

Franco didn’t have an answer for her. He didn’t know what they were supposed to do, what the next step would even look like. They were bound together by more than their vows—by the expectations, the pressure, the image of a life neither of them had chosen. He knew she deserved better than this emptiness, the hollow echo of what might have been.

After a moment, he sat down across from her, resting his elbows on his knees, his voice barely more than a whisper. “What do you want from me?”

She looked away, biting her lip, and for the first time he saw the loneliness in her eyes. "I don’t know," she murmured, her voice quiet. "I don’t know if I ever knew."

She looked down, fidgeting with the hem of her sweater, and then let out a long, quiet breath. "I’ll speak to my father," she said, her voice steady. “We’ll break it off. There’s… someone else. For me, I mean.”

Franco nodded, feeling only a strange sort of relief. “Okay.”

She gave a small, sad smile, as if she’d expected more—anger, maybe, or regret. “I’ll make sure he keeps the sponsors on your team,” she added, her voice softening. “It’s the least I can do.”

Franco shook his head. “He doesn’t have to. I don’t want you worrying about that.”

For a moment, she looked at him with something almost like sympathy. “Franco… it’s not your fault,” she said.

He frowned slightly, unsure what she meant. “What isn’t?”

She looked away, gathering her thoughts, and then back at him, her gaze unwavering. “It’s not your fault you still love her after all these years. Some things… they just don’t go away.”

His throat tightened, and he couldn’t find the words to respond. Her words hung between them, exposing something he’d tried to bury, something he hadn’t even admitted to himself. His silence was answer enough.

“She was a very lovely woman when I met her,” she continued, her voice softer, almost wistful. “I’m sure she hasn’t changed. I’m sure you two would be perfect together.”

He looked down, swallowing the ache in his chest. For all their distance, she’d seen more of him than he’d realised, even if they had never truly belonged to each other. Maybe she’d known all along. Maybe that’s why they’d been drifting from the beginning, like two people playing their parts, waiting for the script to finally run out.

He stood up, running a hand over the back of his neck, his voice low. “I’ll sleep in the guest room tonight.”

She nodded, her eyes full of an understanding that somehow made this harder. “Okay. Goodnight, Franco.”

He gave her a brief nod, then turned and headed down the hall, his footsteps soft against the hardwood. The walls of the house felt like a cage, closing in with every step, but he knew that maybe, for the first time, there was a way out—for both of them.

Franco closed the door to the guest room, feeling the weight of everything settling over him. He felt like a visitor in his own life, just as he had every day for the past two years. He slipped off his watch, set it on the nightstand, and reached for his phone to set an alarm.

Just as he did, his mother’s name lit up the screen. She called him every night, their routine barely wavering since he’d left home all those years ago to chase his dream. He answered, feeling a bit of the tension ease from his shoulders.

“Hey, Mama.”

“Oh, finally, you picked up! I thought I’d missed you tonight, hijo.” she said, her voice bright and warm, filling the room with a bit of comfort he hadn’t known he needed.

“Sorry. It’s been… a long day,” he replied, not sure where to start even if he’d wanted to.

“Oh, mi amor, I’m sorry to hear that,” she said, sympathy lacing her voice. She paused, her tone shifting to something lighter. “Well, you’ll never guess who I ran into today.”

He smiled slightly, settling back against the pillows. “Knowing you, mama, it could be anyone.”

“You flatter me,” she laughed. “But no, this one you’ll want to hear. I ran into your chiquita's mama at the market this morning.”

At the mention of his childhood best friend, Franco’s heart gave a small, involuntary jolt. He kept his voice casual, though he could feel his pulse quicken. “Oh yeah?”

“Guess who’s moving back home?” she said, her voice bright with excitement. “She’s coming back without that boyfriend of hers—what was his name, Angelo or something? Anyway, I don’t know what happened there, but her mama didn’t say much, just that she’ll be moving back in soon.”

Franco fell silent, her words sinking in. She was moving back. Back to the same town, back to where they’d both grown up. It was strange hearing it now, after all this time—especially tonight. He tried to imagine her there, close by, after years of being nothing more than a memory, a lingering ache. She hadn’t been in touch since his wedding. They hadn’t spoken, not really, since that day he’d confessed everything.

“Franco?” his mother asked, her voice pulling him back. “You still there?”

“Yeah,” he murmured. “Yeah, I’m here. Just… surprised, I guess.”

“Well, I thought you’d be pleased to know,” she said gently. “I don’t know why she’s moving back, and I suppose it’s none of my business, but I hope she’s doing alright. I always liked that girl.”

“Me too,” he said, his voice barely more than a whisper.

He wondered what could have happened to bring her back. She’d seemed happy, at least in the few times he’d seen her in the public eye over the last two years—smiling, vibrant, that spark still in her. Whatever had drawn her back, he doubted it was anything good.

“Anyway, I just thought I’d tell you,” his mother went on, a hint of cheer in her voice. “I’m sure you’ll see her around when she’s back. Goodness knows you two could catch up. I’ll let you get some sleep, though. You sound tired, love.”

“I am,” he said honestly. “Thanks, mama.”

“Goodnight, mi amor,” she said softly. “Try not to worry so much. Things have a way of working out.”

He hung up, setting the phone down on the nightstand, but his mind kept circling back to her, the unanswered questions piling up. Why was she moving home? Why now, after everything?

He lay back, staring at the ceiling, feeling the quiet gnaw at him. For the first time in a long while, he felt something stirring beneath the emptiness—something that he hadn’t let himself feel since that day two years ago. A flicker of hope, of curiosity. And maybe, just maybe, the faintest hint of longing.

Franco woke up to an unsettling silence the following morning. The kind that felt thick, heavy, and somehow different from the usual quiet he’d grown accustomed to in this house. He rubbed his eyes, groggy, his mind still tangled in the remnants of last night’s conversation with his mother. She was moving back home. The thought had settled somewhere deep, like a stone sinking to the bottom of his chest, and he hadn’t stopped wondering why she’d come back.

He rose slowly, crossing the hall toward the master bedroom to grab his things, but as he reached the door, he noticed it was open just a crack. There was an odd stillness inside, an emptiness. Pushing the door open fully, he froze.

The wardrobes were wide open, their shelves bare, nothing left but empty hangers. He scanned the room, taking in the strange absence of her things: the jewellery stand, her perfumes, even the photos from the dresser—all gone.

On the bed, her wedding band glinted in the morning light, sitting atop a folded sheet of paper. Heart pounding, Franco walked over and picked up the note, her familiar handwriting scrawled across the page in clean, deliberate strokes.

"Go live a life you’ll enjoy. Go get the girl."

He read the words over and over, the reality slowly sinking in. She had really left. It was over, finally—no more strained conversations, no more pretences, no more empty rooms they shared out of duty. She had made the choice for both of them, letting him go in a way neither of them had been able to until now.

He let out a slow, deep breath, feeling a strange mixture of relief and regret. She had given him a way out, but he felt a twinge of sadness for the life they’d tried and failed to build, and for the woman who’d known him well enough to let him go.

After a moment, he picked up his phone and scrolled to his agent’s number. It rang twice before Eddie answered, his voice thick with sleep.

“Franco? It’s barely morning. You okay?”

Franco ran a hand through his hair, still processing everything. “Yeah. Listen, Eddie, I need you to book me a flight.”

“A flight? Where are you going?”

“Home. To Argentina.” He paused, and for the first time in two years, the words felt right. “I just need to go home.”

Eddie hesitated on the other end. “You sure about this?”

“Yes. I’ll figure everything out when I get there,” Franco replied, feeling a resolve he hadn’t felt in years.

Eddie sighed, but there was something like approval in his voice. “Alright, I’ll get it sorted. You’ll be on a plane by tonight.”

“Thank you, Eddie.” Franco hung up, glancing around the room one last time. He pocketed her note, her words still echoing in his mind.

True to Eddie's word, Franco was on a flight six hours later. The journey was a blur of cramped seats, stale air, and the faint taste of regret that clung to the back of his throat. The turbulence was relentless, like some cosmic joke, as if the universe itself wanted to remind him that nothing had ever been easy. He tried to sleep, but the aching pull of everything he’d left behind in that house—his marriage, his choices, his dreams—kept him awake, staring out at the dark sky, thinking of all the roads that had led him here.

By the time he landed in Buenos Aires and caught a car for the long drive north to his family's old village, the exhaustion had crept under his skin, weighing him down like a thousand unspoken words. But the quiet beauty of the countryside—the sun setting over fields that stretched on forever—started to soothe him, even if just a little.

The car ride seemed endless, every minute dragging with the weight of his thoughts. But when the familiar sight of his family’s village finally came into view—cobblestone streets, thatched roofs, the scent of freshly baked bread hanging in the air—something inside Franco began to shift. The city felt miles away, the noise, the crowds, the weight of his past life all falling away as he crossed into the place that had always felt like home.

The moment he stepped through the door of his childhood house, all of that exhaustion seemed to vanish. The house was exactly as he remembered it—warm, full of life, and alive with the kind of energy he hadn't felt in so long. His mother’s soft humming from the kitchen filled the air, the scent of her cooking familiar and comforting in a way nothing else ever had been.

“Mama?” he called, stepping into the kitchen.

She looked up from the stove, a warm smile spreading across her face as she caught sight of him. It was like the years had slipped away in an instant, and before he could even move, she was across the room, enveloping him in her arms.

“Oh, hijo,” she said, pulling him in tight. “You’re home. You’re really home.”

Franco closed his eyes for a moment, inhaling the comforting smells of garlic and simmering stew. It was the same as it had always been. His mother’s embrace felt like a balm, her steady, familiar presence filling up the spaces in his chest that had been empty for so long. He let himself relax into the hug, feeling like he could finally breathe again.

“Yeah, mama,” he murmured, his voice thick with emotion. “I’m home.”

She pulled back, looking at him with concern now, her gaze soft but knowing. “You look like you’ve been through a storm. What happened, Franco?”

He shook his head, a slight smile tugging at his lips. “It’s… been a hot minute.”

She stepped back, eyes still lingering on him as she turned toward the counter, gesturing for him to sit. "Come, sit. You must be starving."

As he slid into the chair at the table, his mother’s eyes flickered to his left hand, where the ring had once sat. The absence of it didn’t go unnoticed.

"Franco," she said softly, her voice delicate but insistent, “Where’s your wedding ring?”

He froze, his fingers absentmindedly tracing the spot where the band had once been. The question hit him harder than he expected, like a weight on his chest.

He took a deep breath, his words coming out slow, almost reluctant. "I… I never loved her, Mama. Not like I should’ve. Not like I should’ve loved the person I married."

His mother didn’t flinch, didn’t offer a shocked look or try to comfort him with false reassurances. Instead, she simply nodded, as if she had known all along. The silence between them was calm, understanding.

"I knew," she said, her voice gentle but firm. "I knew from the start, Franco. I could see it. You were never... you were never right with her."

He exhaled, a small weight lifting from his chest. His mother didn’t judge him. She hadn’t expected him to make some fairy tale of a marriage. She had always known him better than anyone.

"Why didn’t you say something?" he asked, the question slipping out before he could stop it.

She smiled softly, her hand brushing his cheek. "You had to learn it on your own, cariño. I couldn’t take that from you."

He sat back in his chair, letting her words sink in. This was home. The quiet understanding, the unconditional love. The very things he had been running from for so long. And now, in this moment, he felt like he was finally allowed to come back to it.

His mother leaned in, brushing the hair from his forehead as if he were still that little boy who had left for the big city years ago. "You’ll be alright, Franco. I know you will. You always find your way back."

He smiled, his heart full, and reached across the table to squeeze her hand. "Thanks, Mama," he said, his voice thick with emotion. "I think I’m ready to find it now."

His mother studied him for a moment, as if weighing whether to say more. The comfortable silence stretched between them before she finally spoke, her voice casual, but with a slight undercurrent of something he couldn’t quite place.

“You know, she moved back this morning,” she said, a soft note of curiosity in her tone.

Franco looked up sharply, his stomach tightening at the mention of her. “She did?”

His mother nodded, stirring a pot on the stove. He shifted in his seat, trying to steady the flutter of emotions that were beginning to rise in his chest. She was back. The thought of her living just next door made his heart ache in ways he wasn’t prepared for, especially after everything that had happened. It felt like a sign, but it also felt like a question—one he didn’t know if he was ready to answer.

“I don’t know what’s happened,” he said, the words coming out quieter than he intended. “But I’m sure it’s for the best. She’s probably just trying to figure things out.”

His mother gave him a thoughtful look before turning back to the stove. "It’s not easy, you know. Coming back here after all those years. Maybe she just needs some time. Things haven't been easy for her, either."

Franco nodded absently, his mind already racing, a thousand thoughts flooding his mind. He’d always wondered what it would be like if they were close again—if the years between them could just vanish, and they could pick up where they left off. But that was before everything had changed.

Before he’d made a mess of everything.

“I’ll give her space,” he said after a long pause. “She clearly needs it if she’s come back home. I don’t want to crowd her, not like this.”

His mother looked at him for a long moment, her gaze soft and full of the kind of love only a mother could offer. She didn’t press, but Franco could tell she was seeing more in him than he was letting on. She always had that way of reading him, even when he didn’t want to be read.

“I think that’s wise, Franco,” she said quietly. “But don’t wait too long. Sometimes, the right things—people—can slip away if we don’t take the chance when we can.” She gave him a small smile, her eyes gentle but full of a mother’s wisdom. “Don’t make the same mistake twice.”

He swallowed hard, looking down at his hands. The right things... people. Was she talking about her?

He wasn’t sure. What he was sure of was that he had already lost so much—lost the girl he had once called his best friend. His true love. That much was clear.

But he couldn’t make the same mistake again. Not with her. Not now.

“Yeah,” he said, his voice hoarse. “I won’t. I’ll give her the time she needs… and then, I’ll figure out what comes next.” He forced a small smile, looking back up at her. “But first, I think I need to settle in here, Mama. Just for a bit.”

She smiled warmly at him, nodding as she moved to set the table. “Take your time, cariño. You’ve earned it.” Then she added softly, almost to herself, “And when you’re ready, you know where she is.”

Franco nodded, the weight of her words hanging in the air like a promise he wasn’t sure he was ready to make. He had to sort through the years of distance, the pain, the confusion, and the mess he had made before he could even think of approaching her again.

That night the house was quiet as Franco prepared for bed, the kind of quiet that settled deep into the bones. The weight of the day’s emotions, of the journey—of everything—pressed on him like a physical force, but he couldn’t quite shake the feeling that something was still missing.

He stood in front of the mirror, his eyes scanning the reflection—a man who hadn’t truly looked at himself in a long time. His face was a little more worn, the years of racing and the strain of the past two had carved lines into his features. And yet, there was a boy in those eyes too—the one who used to laugh freely, who used to dream of more than just what life had given him.

He sighed, running a hand through his hair, the quiet ache of the past two years swirling in his chest again. Where did it all go wrong? He’d asked himself this so many times, but the answer had never been clear. His life had seemed like it was on track, until it suddenly wasn’t. Until it all came crashing down, leaving him here, in his childhood home, looking at a version of himself he didn’t recognise.

Where did it all go to shit?

He turned away from the mirror, needing a moment of peace, a change of scenery. The night air felt crisp as he stepped out onto the balcony, the soft night breeze brushing against his skin. The village was quiet, the distant sound of crickets filling the silence. The stars above him were impossibly bright, as if they had been waiting for him to step out into this space to show themselves.

For a moment, he just stood there, taking it all in. The vast sky, the deep silence, the comfort of being home, of being away from all the chaos of the life he’d left behind. He closed his eyes for a beat, letting himself breathe.

Then, he froze.

From across the yard, on the roof of the house next door, a figure was sitting—her silhouette outlined by the soft glow of the stars.

Franco didn’t know how long she’d been sitting there. The sight of her—after all these years—was like a jolt to the chest, a flood of old memories and emotions crashing over him.

At first, he considered turning back into the house, pretending he hadn’t seen her, pretending the universe wasn’t trying to push him into a conversation he wasn’t ready for. But his feet stayed rooted to the ground, his eyes locked on her figure, so familiar, so her. He hadn’t expected to see her tonight, especially not like this. Not sitting on the roof, in the same place they used to sit together as kids, watching the stars and talking about everything and nothing.

He had no idea how to approach her.

Before he could make up his mind, she spoke, her voice drifting through the night air, quiet but unmistakable. “Staring’s rude, you know.”

Franco’s breath caught in his throat, his chest tightening at the sound of her voice. It had been so long since he’d heard it, and yet it felt like no time had passed at all.

He stayed where he was, still unsure, a little frozen by the way his heart was racing. “I didn’t think you’d notice,” he finally said, his voice coming out quieter than he intended.

She tilted her head slightly, but didn’t look directly at him. “I always notice,” she replied, a faint smile playing on her lips, though her tone was more playful than anything else.

He let out a small laugh, a bit surprised by her nonchalance. It was just like her to act so casual, even in the middle of something heavy.

“I wasn’t planning to interrupt,” he added, his hands shoved deep into his pockets. "Just thought I'd leave you to it."

She didn’t respond right away, but he could see the way her gaze flickered toward him, though she didn’t move. After a beat, she spoke again, her voice quieter now. “You came home.”

“I did,” he said, his heart racing as he stood there, not knowing where to go from here. “Took me a while, but I’m here.”

She nodded, the soft rustle of her hair catching the starlight. "Good. I didn’t think you would."

Franco swallowed, the weight of the unspoken words hanging thick between them. "I... didn’t think I would either."

There was another pause, but it wasn’t uncomfortable. Just... heavy, in a way that felt like they were both waiting for something. Waiting for the moment when they could go back to being what they once were. But Franco knew, deep down, that it wasn’t going to be that simple. Too much had happened between them, too many years spent apart.

Her voice broke the quiet, her words soft but inviting. “There’s space next to me. You should come up here.”

Franco hesitated for a second longer, unsure, but something in her tone, a subtle pull, urged him forward. He glanced around briefly before deciding to take a chance.

Carefully, he climbed over the small stone wall dividing their balconies, his fingers finding familiar purchase as he pulled himself over. The moment his feet hit the roof, the memories of their childhood came rushing back—sitting on the very same roof, talking about everything and nothing, watching the stars as if they were the only two people in the world.

It felt surreal, like no time had passed at all, even though everything between them had changed.

She was already sitting cross-legged, her back turned slightly toward him, but she patted the spot next to her, silently urging him to join her. He moved toward her, then sat down, the cool roof beneath him grounding him in a way he hadn’t expected.

When he finally reached the top, she shifted to make room, and before he even fully settled beside her, she was resting her head on his shoulder. It was as natural as breathing, a comfort he hadn’t realised he’d been starved for.

The night seemed to stretch on forever as they sat together, not speaking, just sharing the same space, the same memories that lingered between them like a soft, delicate thread. It was as though the silence held all the things they couldn’t say out loud.

Finally, it was her who broke the quiet, her voice low and tinged with regret. “Sorry I never replied to your letter.”

Franco’s heart stuttered in his chest at the mention of the letter. He hadn’t expected her to bring it up, not after everything that had happened. Slowly, he turned his head to look at her, his voice barely a whisper. “You... you received it?”

She nodded slowly, lifting her head from his shoulder but not fully pulling away. She stared up at the stars, her fingers absentmindedly tracing shapes in the air. “Four days ago,” she said, her voice soft and distant, as though the words were hard to say.

Four days ago.

The words hit him like a punch to the gut. The letter. The letter he’d written years ago, before everything spiralled out of control, before the wedding, before he called it all off. The letter where he had laid bare his feelings for her—telling her everything he’d never had the courage to say before. Telling her that he loved her. That he’d leave his fiancé for her. That he wanted to be with her.

The letter had been the final step, the desperate confession that he couldn’t hold inside any longer.

“I… I didn’t know,” Franco muttered, his throat tight. “I sent it because I thought you needed to know. I thought you needed to hear it.” He paused, looking down at his hands. “I didn’t expect you to just—ignore it.”

Her breath hitched slightly, and she looked over at him, her eyes meeting his with an intensity that made him ache. “I didn’t ignore it,” she said softly. “I didn’t know about it. Angelo hid it from me.”

Franco froze. Angelo. The same guy she’d been with all those years, the one who had kept the letter from her. The weight of it hit him hard, a cold knot in his stomach. “He hid it?” His voice barely came out above a whisper.

She nodded, her eyes not leaving his. “I only found it four days ago when I was packing.” She paused, as though weighing whether or not to say more, then sighed. “He kept it from me, Franco. Told me it was nothing, just some silly thing from the past. But it wasn’t nothing. It was you. It was everything you were trying to say. And I didn’t even know until hours before your wedding.”

Franco could feel his chest tighten, the words he had written, the words that had been locked inside of him for so long, echoing in the space between them. He had no idea she’d never received it. No idea she had been living in that oblivion, thinking that nothing had changed when, in reality, everything had been laid out for her years ago.

Franco closed his eyes, the weight of her words settling over him. His entire life had been built around the lies he’d told himself, and in the end, he had only hurt the one person who had always been there for him.

When he opened his eyes again, he was staring at the sky, the stars so far away. “I never stopped loving you,” he said quietly, the confession falling from his lips before he could stop it. “I never stopped thinking about you, even when I thought I should. Even when I tried to move on, I always... always thought about you. About Monza.”

Her voice was soft but steady, a quiet confession in the night air. “I shouldn’t have come to that wedding,” she said, her words hanging in the space between them like a breath held too long.

Franco blinked, his heart stuttering slightly in his chest as he turned to look at her. “Why?”

She sighed, her eyes focused on the distant horizon, her expression unreadable in the soft glow of the moon. “Because I thought I was over you, Franco. I really did. I thought that seeing you get married to someone else, someone who wasn’t me, would help me move on. But when I watched you declare your love for me in front of everyone... it hit me all at once. I felt like I was coasting through a lie with Angelo for two years.”

Franco’s chest tightened at the mention of Angelo again, but he didn’t interrupt. He knew this was something that had been simmering beneath the surface for a long time, something they had never really spoken about. She took a slow breath, her fingers playing with the hem of her shirt as she spoke again.

“I couldn’t give him all of me,” she continued, her voice wavering for the first time, just the slightest crack in her calm demeanour. “When you still had half my heart.”

Franco felt a lump form in his throat at her words. She still loved him. Despite everything, despite the time apart, despite the man she had been with, a part of her had never truly moved on.

He didn’t know what to say. He couldn’t find the right words to express the swirl of emotions inside him. The guilt, the confusion, the longing. All he could do was listen, his heart aching with each word she spoke.

“Amor…” His voice faltered, and he cleared his throat, trying to find his grounding. “She cheated on me. My wife.” He added as though she needed clarification.

Her head jerked up, her eyes wide with surprise, but she said nothing. She waited for him to continue, her breath catching in her throat.

Franco stared out at the stars, his voice barely more than a whisper. “I didn’t feel much at first. I think I expected it. In some way, I always did. I’d been living in a marriage where I wasn’t really present for a long time.” He paused, his eyes distant as he recalled the feeling of his world unravelling. “But... when I found out, I couldn’t feel anything. It was like I had already shut myself off from it all.”

She studied him, her gaze soft but piercing. “Really? You didn’t feel... anything?”

Franco’s heart twisted, “I felt guilty,” he admitted, his voice low. "I didn’t feel hurt or anger. I just felt... guilty."

She frowned, the confusion and concern evident in her eyes. “Guilty? Why? You didn’t cheat. You weren’t the one betraying her.”

Franco chuckled bitterly, a hollow sound that felt foreign to him. “No, I didn’t cheat. But I’ve been mentally cheating on her for years now.” His voice cracked slightly, the admission slipping out before he could stop it. “With you. I’ve been thinking about you. Wanting you. Wondering... what could have been.”

Her breath caught in her throat, and she stared at him for a long moment, the weight of his confession hanging between them like an invisible force. The air was thick, heavy with the things they hadn’t said, the things they had both buried for too long.

For a moment, neither of them spoke. The only sound was the distant rustle of the trees, the wind whispering through the leaves. Then, she shifted slightly, her fingers brushing against his, tentative, like she wasn’t sure if it was okay to reach out. But Franco didn’t pull away. He let her fingers weave through his, and for a moment, they were back to the way they used to be—close, without words, just a connection that had never truly faded.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered, her voice breaking the silence again. “I didn’t mean to make things more complicated for you. I never wanted you to feel guilty.”

Franco shook his head, his fingers tightening around hers. “You didn’t. It’s my fault. I should’ve been honest with myself. With you. With everyone.”

Her hand found his, her grip soft but reassuring. “We can’t undo the past, Franco. But maybe... maybe we can stop running from it.” She looked up at him, her eyes searching his face for something—maybe a sign that they were on the same page, that this wasn’t just a momentary lapse, but the beginning of something else.

Franco’s heart skipped a beat. The ache inside him—this pull, this longing—felt more real now than it ever had before. But he couldn’t let himself get lost in it. Not yet. Not before he figured out what came next.

“Maybe,” he whispered, his voice thick with emotion. “Maybe we can.”

But for now, they stayed there, hand in hand, watching the stars as the night stretched on—together, but not quite ready to bridge the distance between them. The future was uncertain, but in that moment, with her close to him again, it felt like the possibility of a new beginning was still there.

And maybe that was enough.

She shifted slightly, pulling her knees closer to her chest as she stared up at the night sky, the stars scattered above them like little pieces of a puzzle they couldn’t quite put together. Her voice broke the quiet again, this time more introspective, tinged with a kind of sadness that Franco couldn’t shake. “Why are we like this?” she asked softly, the question hanging in the air between them. “Why can’t we ever get it right? Why does it feel like we keep missing each other?”

Franco felt a lump form in his throat as he turned his head to look at her. He had no answer. No easy explanation for the years of missed opportunities, the broken promises, the things left unsaid. All he could do was let the silence stretch for a moment before he spoke, his voice thick with regret.

“I don’t deserve you,” he said, his words barely audible, but full of the weight of everything he had kept buried for so long.

Her hand tightened around his, her fingers warm and steady against his skin. She didn’t look at him immediately. She just stared at the stars, letting the night take them both in. But when she did speak, her voice was clear, almost a little too sharp, as if she were trying to distance herself from the ache inside.

“I know,” she said, her words simple, yet filled with the unspoken truth between them.

Franco exhaled slowly, his chest tight with the unrelenting guilt that seemed to follow him wherever he went. “I really don’t,” he added, his tone heavier this time, the words more raw, like they were scraping against his very soul.

She turned her head slightly, her eyes soft but steady as she met his gaze. “But you’ll always have me anyway,” she said, her voice gentle, almost a whisper, but strong in its promise. “All of me. Even if you think you don’t deserve it, even if you feel like you’ve lost me, I’m still here. I always will be.”

Franco closed his eyes, his heart pounding in his chest. He wanted to believe her. He wanted to reach out and pull her into him, to hold on to the promise she was offering, but he knew that he had to fix everything first. He had to prove to himself, to her, that he was worthy.

After a long moment, his mind shifted, a question bubbling up to the surface, something that had been nagging at him for a while now. “What happened to Angelo?” he asked, his voice quiet, but urgent with curiosity.

Her gaze flickered away, her expression becoming unreadable for a brief second. She didn’t speak at first, but then, she sighed, her voice small as she turned her head back toward the night sky.

“He proposed,” she said softly, her words hitting Franco like a punch to the gut. “He got down on one knee, right there in the middle of a restaurant, and asked me to marry him.”

Franco’s heart sank. He had imagined the two of them together, but hearing her speak those words, hearing the finality in her tone, made something inside him shift. His breath caught in his throat.

“And you didn’t say yes,” he whispered, the realisation washing over him slowly, painfully.

She shook her head, her fingers grazing the edge of her sleeve as she gathered her thoughts. “I couldn’t bring myself to say yes,” she murmured, her voice distant, like the memory still held weight over her. “I couldn’t lie to him, and I couldn’t lie to myself anymore. Not after everything. I just... I couldn’t. And when I looked at him, I knew something wasn’t right. I knew that the whole time, I had been lying to both of us, pretending that he was enough when I wasn’t even sure of myself.”

Franco felt his chest tighten, his heart aching with understanding. “I’m sorry,” he said, the words tumbling out before he could stop them. He wasn’t sure if he was apologising for Angelo, for her, or for himself, but it felt like the right thing to say. “I’m sorry for everything.”

She didn’t respond right away. She just sat there beside him, her head back on his shoulder, her fingers still twined with his. The night stretched on, both of them lost in their own thoughts, but there was something in the air that felt different now. It wasn’t just the weight of their shared history or the unsaid words that hovered between them. There was something else.

Something that, for the first time, felt like the beginning of something new.

After a while, she spoke again, her voice barely audible. “I never wanted to hurt him. But I couldn’t pretend anymore. Not when you’re still here, not when you’ve always been here, Franco.”

Franco closed his eyes, his fingers tracing the curve of her hand. “I understand,” he whispered, though he wasn’t sure if he did. He wasn’t sure of anything right now except that he needed to make it right—whatever that looked like.

They stayed like that for what felt like hours, the quiet stretching between them, neither of them in a rush to break the stillness. The night air was cool against their skin, and the stars above seemed to twinkle with the same quiet understanding that hung in the air. For the first time in years, it felt like they were both exactly where they were meant to be—together.

But slowly, the rhythm of her breathing changed, softening, slowing. Franco felt it before he saw it, the gentle shift in the weight on his shoulder. He glanced down, his heart softening at the sight of her—her lashes fluttering closed, her face serene and peaceful in sleep. She was completely relaxed, as if the weight of everything had been lifted, even if just for a moment.

He didn’t move, didn’t want to disturb the quiet that had settled between them. But as minutes ticked by, he knew it was time to move her. Carefully, he slipped his arm beneath her, lifting her gently, cradling her close. Her head rested on his chest as he stood, her body instinctively curling against him. She felt weightless in his arms, and for a second, he couldn’t believe how natural it all felt.

As he carried her through the door to her room, the familiar smell of her childhood home wrapped around him—the scent of lavender and old wood, a place both foreign and intimately familiar. The room was just as he remembered, simple and cosy, with little traces of her scattered throughout. He looked down at the floor he used to sleep on when they were young The soft, pale light of the moon filtered through the window, casting everything in a gentle glow.

He placed her gently in the bed, tucking the covers around her small frame. For a moment, he just stood there, watching her, his chest heavy with emotion. Everything about this felt so right, so painfully wrong at the same time. He should have been here years ago. He should have never let things get so far. But now, he was here. And he wasn’t going anywhere.

He leaned down, brushing a strand of hair away from her face before pressing a gentle kiss to her forehead. His lips lingered there for a second longer than he meant to, his heart aching with all the things he never said.

Just as he turned to leave, to head back to his own house, her voice stopped him.

“Don’t.”

Franco froze. His hand rested on the window frame , his heart stalling in his chest. He turned slowly, not sure if he had heard her correctly.

“What?” he asked, his voice quiet, almost unsure.

She looked up at him, her eyes still heavy with sleep, but there was something in her gaze—vulnerable, raw, but full of longing. “Don’t go,” she whispered, her voice thick with emotion. “I can’t watch you walk away again. Please don’t.”

For a moment, Franco stood there, his chest tight as he processed her words. Don’t go. It was all he needed to hear. She didn’t want him to leave. After everything that had happened, after all the distance between them, she still wanted him here.

He walked back toward the bed, his movements slow and deliberate. He didn’t need to say anything; the weight of the moment, the look in her eyes, said it all. He carefully slid under the covers, settling beside her, the warmth of her body so familiar yet so new.

Without a word, she shifted, curling into him, her head finding its place on his chest, her hand resting gently against his side. Franco wrapped his arm around her, pulling her close, and for the first time in a long time, he felt at peace. It wasn’t a perfect moment, but it was real. And it was theirs.

They stayed there, the rhythm of their breathing slowly syncing, the quiet of the night wrapping around them. No more words were needed. No more distance. Just the two of them, together, holding on to each other like they were afraid to let go.

And as they drifted off to sleep, tangled together beneath the covers, Franco realised that this moment—this feeling of being home—was everything he had been searching for.

Home.

Her.

It was all synonymous.

She was his home.

the end.

taglist: @sp1rl @yennasaurusrex @ellen3101 @firefirevampire @directioner5life @littlegrapejuice @obxstiles @scopeiguess @newlifeforus @justsisse @zestytimbit @taygrls @charlosvibesonly @sparkleofpizza

AITA for Not Telling My Girlfriend My Natural Hair Color?

Posted by u/blondinblacktie

I’m not entirely sure where to begin, but I’ll try to be as clear as possible.

I (20M) have been with my girlfriend (19F) for a little over two years. We met in high school. She’s the kindest person I know, and possibly the only person who’s ever made me feel genuinely understood. She's thoughtful, intelligent, funny, and—though this feels like an embarrassing word to use—ethereal. I consider myself extremely fortunate to be with her.

We both lean into a more goth aesthetic, though I don’t like calling it a “phase” or “a look.” It’s something I connected with on a level I couldn’t fully articulate at the time. It felt like finally dressing like how I’ve always felt inside. She wears black every day, sometimes does makeup, sometimes none at all. She's beautiful regardless.

Here’s the issue:

I’m naturally blond. Extremely blond. I mean platinum blond. The kind that borders on white. Think Scandinavian child raised in overcast conditions. I’ve been dyeing it black since I was 14. My hair has never once seen daylight in its natural color since then.

My girlfriend has never seen a photo of me from before that time, and I’ve never brought it up. She never asked, and I never lied. But I didn’t offer it either. And I think that omission is eating me alive.

A few days ago, we were having a quiet conversation—just the two of us—and she mentioned, offhandedly, how nice it would be if our future children inherited our black hair. I smiled. I nodded.

Another time(I remember now), she had said that she never found blond guys attractive. She said they always gave off the impression of being shallow or vain.

I haven’t slept properly since. I know it sounds ridiculous, but it’s been four days and I feel... off-balance. Like I’m walking around with a secret that’s slowly poisoning me.

I don’t want to lie to her. I don’t want to make this a bigger deal than it is. But I also don’t want to tell her and have her feel deceived. I’m scared she’ll see me differently. Not in the “she’ll leave me” sense—though yes, that fear is there—but in the way where someone you love tilts their head slightly and says, “Oh... I didn’t know that about you.” And suddenly you feel like a stranger in your own skin.

This feels stupid. I know it’s just hair. But it’s more than that. It’s identity. It’s vulnerability. It’s the person I used to be—the one I worked hard to change.

AITA for keeping this to myself?

⇧ 20k 🡇 💬8k ⮳Share

Top comments:

u/HairDyeIsMyTechnique:

bro. you’re not coming out as a war criminal. you’re blonde. just tell her. 💀

r/goth:

welcome to the Goth Guilt Club™. everyone here is secretly blonde or ginger and fighting for their life every root touch-up.

u/AskWomen:

I literally dye my hair black and my boyfriend is a natural redhead who goes full-black goth for me. If I found out he was hiding his red roots out of shame, I’d laugh and then kiss him. She probably will too.

u/GojosBlockedList:

“I’m scared she’ll look at me like a stranger in my own skin” — YOU DYED YOUR HAIR, NOT YOUR SOUL BRO 😭😭😭 just say "hey my natural hair color is actually blonde and I’ve been dyeing it for years." she’s not gonna exile you.

u/DomainOfDrama:

She: "I don't like blond guys."

You, with the most terminal case of guilt since Judas Iscariot: "I am a blond guy."

Buddy. Pal. King. She loves you.

u/urhairisvalid:

tell her before the guilt eats you alive and you start waking up at 3am whispering "I'm sorry... for being blonde." you're ok. you're still goth. and she's still gonna love you.

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UPDATE:

AITA for lying about my real hair color to my girlfriend? Posted by u/blondinblacktie 9 hours ago

First of all, THANK YOU to everyone who commented. You all roasted me to hell and back and it worked. So here’s the update. Yes, it is ridiculous. Yes, I am still dramatic. Yes, I have survived.

Last night, we went on a date. Nothing fancy—just the two of us in my car, late at night, eating fries and nuggets, listening to our playlist. It was a good vibe and she was in a good mood.

I wanted to tell her straight out. I really did. But every time I opened my mouth, I felt like I was about to confess to tax fraud.

So what did I do? I brought up the kid topic again like a coward. I asked her“What if our kid has light hair?”

She just shrugged and went,“I don’t care. I just want them cute.”

AND I PANICKED. SO I JUST BLURTED EVERYTHING OUT.

I went full monologue mode, Shakespearean tragedy-level delivery. I told her my whole blond origin story—how my mom thought it’d darken but it never did, how I started dyeing it black the second I turned 14 and never looked back, how I’ve been hiding it all this time like it was a cursed family secret. I even showed her a childhood photo—flash on, hair glowing like the surface of the sun. I looked like a Victorian porcelain doll someone left out in the snow. I wanted the ground to open.

AND SHE JUST STARED AT IT.

Then she started LAUGHING. Like not a cute giggle, I mean full-on wheezing. She said, “You’re lucky you’re pretty.” and then“You thought I’d leave you over being a Disney prince?”

She thinks it’s adorable. She said I looked like a cursed child from a horror movie, which she found “kinda iconic.” She even made it her lockscreen so yeah all is well.

She also said she kinda had a vague suspicion because my roots sometimes looked “too good to be true” but figured it wasn’t a big deal.

So yeah. She didn’t break up with me. She kissed me and told me to relax and that maybe we can grow our kid into a goth no matter what color their hair is.

⇧ 17k 🡇 💬6k ⮳Share

Top comments:

u/mychemicalreblondance:

you gave her a jump scare baby photo and she made it her lockscreen. if that’s not love idk what is. y’all are adorable.

u/HairDyeIsMyTechnique:

i’m crying this whole post is like “I’ve hidden who I really am… this is me… I’m blonde.” congrats king. you’re still goth. we forgive you. 🖤

u/SatoruOnMain:

This is the first time I’ve seen someone confess their natural hair color like it was a felony and come out more loved at the end. Good for you. Now go retouch your roots, drama king.

u/4EyedFeralPrince:

SHE MADE THE PHOTO HER LOCKSCREEN?? you’ve got a real one man. marry her and dye your future kid’s hair black at 3 months.

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AN: So I just got into American Horror Story and MY LORD??? Evan Peters??? Tate Langdon???? <bark bark>

Also… my first Nanami post?? Who would’ve thought???

CRAZYYYY

GOOD LUCK, BABE!

pairings: charles leclerc x reader (romantic/platonic).

summary: friendships don’t always survive, you and charles would know.

warnings: cheating towards the end. no smut but a makeout session. sorry alex 💔

author’s note: the brocedes au that me and anon wanted. i’m trying something new btw. let me know how u feel about it.

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you never imagined yourself in the same room as charles. not willingly anyways. yet, when you received the invitation with his handwritten note asking you to come. you knew you couldn’t say no. you had spent so much of your childhood discussing the future. he wanted a family. three kids, a dog and a gorgeous wife that loved him. you wanted a career. the glory, the accolades and the fans that loved you.

he made you promise one day that you’d be at his wedding. you were fifteen at the ice cream shop that he’d always drag you too. you had snuck out without arthur in order to have an extra scoop after charles’ dad had paid for the ice cream you’d had earlier. he looked over at you, eyes serious and asked you to be his best man — (“best woman, best girl. it doesn’t matter. i just want you next to me. i’m serious yn.” he took a lick of his ice cream and the seriousness melted away when he left a smudge on his nose.)

you didn’t break promises easily.

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however, when arthur came running up to you, asking you to follow him. when your relationship with charles disintegrated, you never lost touch with arthur. he was like a little brother to you. you would very rarely meet him for brunch in whatever city you happened to both be in. so when he asked you to follow him, you did willingly.

“where are we going?” you ask, as he pulls you along by your right hand. “usually, whenever you don’t give me context it means you’re doing something bad. is this something bad leclerc?”

“when am i ever doing something bad?” he looks over his shoulder and gives you a wink. you roll your eyes. he plants you in front of a room and nods at it. you stare at him blankly.

“okay? i’m not a mind reader arthur.”

“i need you to help me look for something.” he nods at the room. “in there.”

“you can do it yourself.” you turn to leave before he runs in front of you and stops you.

“listen. i don’t care if you had that weird breakup with my brother,” you start to protest that it wasn’t a breakup but he stops you. “but you didn’t need to cut me off too. you were a part of my life too. you abandoned me too.”

“i don’t ask you for anything yn but i need your help. i’m looking for my silver cufflinks. i need them.” he raised his cuffs to show you the distinct lack of cufflinks. “please. i’m begging you. i wouldn’t ask otherwise.”

you didn’t expect to come here to be blackmailed and guilt tripped but it was working. you avoided everything leclerc. even his family, especially his family if you were being honest. they went from being your second family to nothing at all.

“okay.” you nod. “i’ll get your cufflinks.”

arthur smiles and opens the door for you to walk in. it’s someone’s hotel room. either arthur’s or a friend’s. it’s messy and you sigh. it’ll be hard finding them in this mess but you start carding through clothes.

“yn?”

you know that voice anywhere. you turn around and it’s charles. he’s half dressed in his wedding suit, his crisp white shirt half unbuttoned. his hair is still messy as if he’s ran his hand through nervously multiple times. you smile with no teeth and move to open the door. it’s locked.

“arthur leclerc! open this fucking door!” you seethe. you bang against the door and hear his voice through the material.

“not until you fucking talk! i’ll be back in half an hour.” you hear his footsteps walk away. you turn to charles who smiles sheepishly at you.

“tea?”

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liked by messyass1, messyass2 and 1,737,883 others.

ham1ltonshaderoom: it seems all the rumours are true. sworn enemies f1 drivers charles leclerc and yn yln have seemed to call a truce to celebrate his wedding to art historian alexandra saint mleux. she was seen wearing a dark green vivienne westwood gown as she celebrated the couple’s nuptials.

what do we think about the rekindling of this flame, ham1ltons?

view all 679,498 comments

user1: CHARLESYN IN THE SAME ROOM NO ARGUING NO FIGHTS WE CHEERED!!

user2: i wish we had pictures of her. she always eats her outfits.

-> user3: wtf how does she digest them?

-> user2: figure of speech babe <3

user4: did she have a date??

-> user5: her longtime boyfriend!!

user6: they worked it out on the remix

-> user7: so FERRARI ❤️

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charles makes you the tea. he doesn’t finish buttoning his shirt as he pours it into a mug for you. he remembered how you liked it - two sugars and a splash of milk. you stay silent but nod gratefully.

it’s been so long since you’ve been alone with him. you’re not the same wide eyed kid but neither is he. he’s getting married and you’re giving him the silent treatment. he sits on the edge of his bed awkwardly. tapping his thigh with a single finger.

“thank you for coming,” he says. “i didn’t think you would.”

“the handwritten invitation was a nice choice,” you sip your tea. “personal. did everyone else like it?”

“only yours was,” he coughs into his elbow. “handwritten. i mean. only yours.”

that’s news to you but you don’t have time to ponder what that means before he speaks again.

“i’ve thought for the longest time on what i’d say to you if i got the chance. everything. how sorry i was, how sorry i am, how much i hated you and how much you meant to me. you were my best friend yn. my best friend. no one has even come close to what you were for me.” he chuckles as he presses his palms into his eyes. “who else could i talk to besides you?”

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(insert a tiktok edit of the two of you throughout your careers. the song playing over it is the song ‘chemtrails over the country club’ by lana del ray specifically the lyrics ‘nobody’s son/nobody’s daughter’. it gets 167k likes.)

────── ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ──────

“do you still hate me?” charles looks at you under his lashes.

“of course i do. you hurt me.”

“you hurt me. but i don’t hate you.” charles fidgets in his seat. he stretches his hands to place them on his knees. you sip your tea. “do you remember when i asked you to be my best woman?”

you nod.

“i didn’t mean that. i wanted you to be my wife.”

you would choke on your tea if you didn’t know that information but charles wasn’t subtle. yet it was a case of missed opportunities. you didn’t like him then and he didn’t like you now.

“i couldn’t hate you yn. god knows i tried. it hurts me knowing that you hate me as i could never hate you. i said all that shit because i was hurt and angry. you said i was a shitty driver. that is wouldn’t have won without ferrari’s strategies which we both know are shit-“

“i’m sorry, i didn’t know you still cared about my opinion.” you interrupt. your voice still has a defensive edge to it. he just shrugs.

“i’ll always care about your opinion.”

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CHARLESYNNIES TWITTER GC (est.2017)

user1: editing yn to l’amour de ma vie by billie eilish (extended version) rn 😋

user2: what part?

user1: listen from 2:15 till 2:56!!

user3: THATS GONNA EATT OMGGGG

user4: wish we could edit the wedding appearance of the two of them omggg.

user5: when i get off my lazy ass and finish my edit of them to ‘the girl so confusing’ remix

user6: do y’all think they’re talking at the wedding?

user7: babe do you know yn? she’s probably at the very corner of the reception right now. she’ll take a pic with every other leclerc besides charles and probably leave before dinner is served.

user8: you’re so real. yn would NEVER talk to charles let alone be alone with him. i hate it but it’s the truth.

user9: plus charles is probably busy with the wedding.

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you never considered yourself to be a bad person but making out with your ex best friend/teammate literally a few hours before he’s about to get married? that’s a bitch move.

you try to think about his fiancée. she’s probably getting ready excitedly with her family and friends. thinking about being the future mrs leclerc while you’re two minutes away from committing adultery on both of your partners.

you pull apart from charles. he looks at you with wide eyes.

“we can’t fucking do this. we’re awful people,” you sit up. “my fucking lipgloss is all over your mouth.”

“i look good in pink. it’ll be fine.” he wipes it off.

“you have a fiancée. you’re getting married.”

“tell me the word and i’ll call it off. just for you.” he looks at you. “i’m quitting f1 after this year anyways. i’m not attempting to go for the second championship. i don’t want it.”

“how do you not want it?”

“we have different priorities but i won’t be a f1 driver anymore. you always said you couldn’t date a driver. i’ve grown now. i’m fine being in your shadow. i love it. i want it.”

he looks at you as serious as he did when he asked you to be his best woman all those years ago.

“what do you want yn?”

you bite your lip, and think.

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CHARLESYNNIES TWITTER GC (est.2017)

user7: i’m hoping we get at least a picture. just one.

user4: i would DIE!!! imagine!!!

user3: charlesynnies suffer every day and everyone else wins.

user2: i think yn is right there with charles. maybe dancing.

user1: he always said she’d be at his wedding. he was right. i think there is still love there.

user5: FINISHED MY FUCK ASS EDIT PLEASE LIKE AND COMMENT ON TIKTOK BESTIES

user6: okay i wrote a little fic for ao3. it’s called ‘wait until you like me again’!! it’s domestic charlesyn as they are forced to work everything out. kinda angsty but really smutty.

user1: spamming u both charlesynnies are the best idc <3

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liked by ham1ltonshaderoom, landonorris and 1,827,983 others.

charles_leclerc: say hello to mr and mrs leclerc 💍

tagged: alexandrasaintmleux

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yourusername: happy for you 💕

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INTERVIEW WITH CHARLES LECLERC

interviewer — so is it true? you’re renewing your ferrari contract?

charles (laughing) — it is true. racing is my life. this is it for me. it’d take something big to take me away from it.

interviewer: you all heard it here first!

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— all works taglist: @luvsforme @yelenasloverrrrr @donttouchthegnote @chelle1306 @bloodyymaryy @aliciaablueprint @lennnooshh @km-23mr @stinkyjax @f1kenzzz @ctrlyomomma @theblueblub @marshmummy @23victoria @ourlifeforchaos @namgification @tallrock35 @avada-kedavra-bitch-187 @ariellovelynn @shhhchriss @lifeless-firefly @xylinasdiary @evie-119 @itseightbeats @tsireyasgf @landososcar @yongi-lee @maxlarens @velentine @m1892 @blushmimi @evans-dejong @nixisracing @lethalvenus @santanasaintmendes @idontknowlmaoo @sainzluvrr (charles specific tags will be added to the comments!)

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wrong person right time-L.HS

warnings: 18+ MDNI!!!!,angst(idk how much),sex,unprotected sex,name calling,mentions of cum

wc; 4.5k words

For; @heesquared

If you could count,it has been exactly 4 years,2 months,and a solid 3 days,ever since you last saw,or heard from him, got a last proper kiss from him, got to hold him in your arms,and its been way too long since you both ignored the random show going on the background and just focus on each other’s pleasure. You, for sure missed all of it. Every small details of when you were together came rushing down your mind. It was still fresh on your mind how it all ended. You downheartedly sat in the car,with Heeseung,who was appreciating the outside view,with his hands on his lap. You weren’t sure where to look at all. Your mind was screaming for you to go and just say hi,the first words you ever would’ve spoken to him that day,but you stayed quiet,the courage inside you slowly breaking down into uncountable pieces. But it all came to a halt when heeseung spoke up,”did you eat anything yet?”. You were hesitant to answer. What could you say?that you had been on an infinite diet,scratch the times where your friends forced some nutrients down your throat because you were in a spiral of depression?that you were a total wreck?that you didn’t have the heart to eat without him? Your silence was killing him from the inside. He couldn’t help but still worry about you. Your well being. If you ate or not. If you slept soundly or not. If you still…love him or not. You being quiet at his question,made him feel like he was overstepping the boundaries which were never there when it was all lively. He didn’t want to make you feel uncomfortable around him, this one last and first time being with you,he would rather get humiliated in a full setting rather than making you feel uneasy, He was that serious about you. So he just muttered a small ‘whatever’ and went back to sightseeing. The tears were really stinging your eye,threatening to fall.But you acted quick and grabbed a napkin from your purse,wiping the unnecessary droplets of water. The motion caught Heeseung's eyes. Oh how badly he wanted to make you sit on his lap and hold you close to his heart,knowing his heartbeat calms your cries down,and strokes your hair. However,it took all his willpower to not do that. He couldn’t do that anymore. But,it was just only going to last for an hour or two,so why not just….calm you down? Your hands were clutching onto the cloth’s material like it was the only thing you had at that moment,until,you felt a sudden warmth engulf your fisted hands.heeseung

Opting to move your hands,you couldn’t…like at all. It seems to have frozen both you,and the time around you and heeseung,who was now rubbing his thumb above your knuckles in a soothing manner. “Is this ok?” he asks,not patching his eyes up with your softened gaze yet. Of Course it is. It always has been. You can even tell me to sit on your lap and cry my heart out,I would do that. You know I would.

You just nod,and he acknowledges. You both fall into a pit of silence after that,not knowing what else to do anymore after. 

When you got out of the car,Heeseung wished he could at least kiss your forehead before the last hearings were announced. And that you both would officially part your ways as what once you both believed to be called eternal love. His breathing seemed ragged and unstable as he signed the papers. He couldn’t believe this day would be left to be ever imagined,let alone be witnessed. It was all like a hallucination when he saw you signing it too…with a tad bit more tears escaping your eyes. All this happened while haera was outside,playing with your mom in the car,who was just as equally as sad as you were about this decision. But she had to stay strong for both you and her granddaughter. She waited till you got back,and drove you both home. “Do you want to go to my place y/n?I cooked your favorite” your mother offers when she sees you sucked too much into your phone. And she could tell you were looking back on the memories your phone held. Knowing you won’t reply much,she just sighed and took the matter in her own hands. Haera had been asleep the whole ride,for which she’s very energetic when you all reached home. “Here you go” your mother’s voice chimes in as she sets a plate of your favorite dish and places a fork beside it. “So….” “Hmm?” you reply taking a bite of your dinner,in which you had zero interest in as of now,mind filling in the thoughts of certain someone. “What’s your plan on going back to your place? Have you and hee talked about it yet?” At the mention of his name,you stopped eating and kept the fork down and looked at her. “We both agreed on getting our own places earlier when the lawyer was contacted and yori said she would let me binge in for a bit before i could work again and get a room for myself” “Will that be good for you?i want to keep haera with me for a while as well..” she says as she looks over your shoulder,to the child who was know focused on her crayons and drawing stick figures. A part of you wanted to say yes. Because it would definitely be not ok,in a situation like this,for heeseung to come and visit his daughter while you’re around. It was already awkward between him and you,it was more than enough to not create such an environment for your daughter. You didn;t want to face heeseung for now,and not for a month or two..you needed to get back on your feet again,you had to put yourself and your daughter first this time. “It’s okay mama,i can manage it,yori even said she hadn’t met my daughter for a while,it will be fine” you assured her the best you could. At least,it would be less awkward when yori would be with you if heeseung strikes a visit… 

“And..what if he visits?” “Just tell him where i am beforehand of his arrival,it would be better” “Oh okay love”

After moving in with yori,you couldn’t stop thinking about him. If he were here,he would pick you up out of the blue,just to tell you he loved you alot. If he were here,he would not waste a single chance of stealing kisses from your lips…If he were here..he would never…hesitate to bury his cock all the way to your womb,filling you up till he was satisfied…

You still remember how faint his voice was on your years,moaning and whining,just by bottoming out in a hurry,his hips in a halt because of how tight your walls would squeeze him. He would chant your name over and over again as he would notice the bulge of his twitching length inside you. How fun it was for him to apply pressure down the place under your navel,seeing you squirm under him  and scream his name repeatedly. He would never stop his assaulting thrusts till you cream his cock good,only you could milk his cock the best.and he would- Mere thoughts like this were interrupted when you heard the doorbell ring. So you went to the door,opening it,only to reveal..your ex husband..yours and his child in his grip.

Your mind went blank at the sight of his appearance. You were not expecting a surprise at this hour of the day. But to your dismay,it was never meant for you as his eyes went directly went to his daughter who was hugging her dad,almost asleep because of the journey she had to get here,to you. You and Heeseung shared the duty of taking care of your child in turns.He would pick haera up for a week or two,given that the distance between you and him got a lot wider,and would drop her off to you at the end of his shifts when he could. You did the same. Your daughter couldn’t help but giggle when he started kissing all over her face playfully. The scene alone made the butterflies wilder in your stomach. He was always gentle and kind with kids. No wonder kids like him. No wonder kids want a dad like him. Your daughter was just as lucky as you were.. heeseung asks her“be good to mommy okay?i’ll take you to a playdate next time,only you and me okay cotton ball?” Your eyes were focused on his way,and your mind kept recalling the words that just came out of his mouth. He was just being nice. He was just being nice. He was just being nice.

She nods earnestly,and earns a head pat from the man,who just smiles at her answer. “Can you wait for me a bit?i have to talk to your mommy,you’re my angel girl,we’ll go to the slides right after okay?and we can get any ice cream you’d like” he says as he pinches her nose softly,not too hard at all.Her eyes instantly lit up at the offer,she looked so happy and agreed,going back to her plushies,playing with them. The breath you had been holding out for who knows how long,eventually escapes as you see him walking towards the door…Should you ask him to stay back for a bit long?Would that be too indecent?would it look selfish for you to hold him back..?what would he think about it? “Heeseung-” 

don’t say it… He turns on his heels after stopping midway,his eyes finally falling on your figure ever since he got here. It’s not like he was apparently disgusted by your presence,it was just that he didn’t have to break down right then and there,infront of you,believing that you wouldn’t be there to rub his cheeks and wipe his tears for him anymore… “Yes?” Don’t you dare….know where you are now “Would you mind if-umm..” Anything else but that…please “What is it?” Dammit he’s being all soft again..his voice…

“A k-kiss-” ………. “It’s okay if you don’t want it-i understand i was just spewing random shits-” “We can’t….it’s not like it used to be anymore…i’m sorry” Oh….if him ignoring you earlier didn’t break you,this kind of did…like..a major damage to your hopes. Your eyes started to sting alot and before you knew it,tears gushed out..And what happened to be the softest touch you could remember,it was just a tissue paper,with none other than heeseung holding it under your eyes for you…He was not the person who loved you anymore..He was trying to be different. “Please stop crying,haera might worry later and i would lose my dignity as a dad” he tried to joke it out,tried to be sure that you didn’t hear his voice breaking,and he might have succeeded but it didn’t help your tears at all. He wished he still could just at least hug you.His heart was begging for him to just go forth and engulf you into the world's tightest hug,whisper how much he missed your presence,the scent of you,your everything… You do the work for him when you finally shatter and clutch onto him,finally crying in his arms… his breathing just got shakier than ever as he just hesitantly moved his arms up,but not fully hugging you.His chin,now placed atop your head as he inhales a deep breathe,having to have gotten over a big pressure off his chest…all just for a hug he didn’t know he needed..ever since you both got divorced. When your cries seem to have calmed down,he carefully navigates his eyes down to look at you,not caring anymore if it affects him or not…he just needed to see any bits of you. He had to. Or else his heart would go crazy. The moment your red and puffy eyes went up to his face,you caught him staring right back at you. The air suddenly feels too thick to even move a muscle among the two of you. You’ve never felt this much warmth ever since he walked out of your life,leaving him to feel the exact same. But this all was wrong. “Even if you look at me like that,I cannot” he says while holding you firmly. “Just once,i promise i won’t ever bother you about it……please” Bother….it never had been any ounce of what you just claimed to be as a bother. He would kiss you in a heartbeat,you knew that too. But the weight on his heart felt a lot heavier. It was just a kiss…but was it like old times?not at all…he couldn’t see it like that at all. You’re existence and the recalling of the divorce was distracting him from everything he had. “Fine..but only once.okay?after that,i leave” “H-hmm,okay,thank you for consid-” He captures your lips in the most delicate and the softest way possible,still worried if he crossed any non-existent boundaries. But the way you can feel the heat of his body radiate to yours completely,you don’t know what to focus on anymore. His lips had always felt this moist and soft whenever you both shared a kiss. It would always end up with you being on his lap. Your hands,as if it was a reflex,worked their way up to the back of his neck,pulling him closer. Heeseung didn’t seem to care anymore,finally having your lips on his after a whole year,and he felt like he could kiss you forever,hold you close like this,rip the paper into pieces.

His hands started lifting up your cardigan,feeding his fingertips in to feel the bare skin underneath the layer of clothing,making you sigh as you felt his cold touch on your waist.

Somehow, he can’t help but ponder silently about all the times he had been craving nothing but your touch,only for you to not be there,crave how you would sit on his lap and paint his face all red with your newly bought lipsticks,telling him how much you loved him,adored him,and cherished him,only for you to leave all that and walk on a path of your own. And now,he has a stable life now,he knows how to balance his work life and spending time with his daughter,he was contended with how his pace was,he was recovering from everything……

Unfortunately for you, his mind quickly took charge of him as he abruptly pushed you away. He couldn’t be in here..with you anymore without getting carried away. He needed to be out of here as he started to feel the urge to completely turn into a putty for you. 

“I should go now,i’m sorry for getting carried away” he says as he turns to leave Please stay hee…I need you so much…

As if he had telepathic powers,his instincts told him to run back to you,and he did. “Fuck it” he hastily ushers as he basically runs to you and lightly picks you up while connecting your lips with his in a hungry kiss. He couldn’t take it anymore.His lips work wonders as he swiftly licks your lower lip making you gasp,easily earning access to slide his tongue in. He makes sure to devour every corner of your mouth,not caring about the way your teeth clash. He doesn’t give you enough time and backs you up to the nearest wall. 

Gently, he places you on your feet,your small frame now caged in by his broad one. His eyes looked down to where your thighs were rubbing together in anticipation. “Fuck look at you”

“We need to go somewhere more private” he says, not even bothering to guide you to the nearest bathroom he could find. He leans in and kisses you again,a bit harder this time,hands instantly moving down to grope your rear cheeks,caressing them. You moaned at the contact of his perverted touch against your skin but you craved this so much…. 

“Needed you so much too angel,been such a mess ever since…do you feel that way too?” “Yes hee,been wanting this for so long…couldn’t think of anything else but you” you confessed,your words earning a chuckle from the latter. 

“What was I doing to you in your mind,hmm?”he asks as hands are now under your cardigan again,snaking up to your chest. His hands molded perfectly with your breasts as he gave them a light squeeze. Moaning at how good it felt,heeseung looked pleased by your reaction. He wanted to do more,and he is going to do more before he starts regretting where he is right now. “Gonna fuck you so good” he says as he unbuckles his belt and ties your wrist with it,behind your back. The action sends your mind in a frenzy as you felt his tongue licking a fat strip on your neckline. He dragged it down to your collarbone,sucking onto the bone and showering the area with his love bites. “Tastes just like it used to– fuck can never get enough of this” the taste of your skin melts in his tongue as he completely lets himself go. His hands quickly drop down to grab your hips and turn you to face the mirror in front of you. The sight was oh so pleasant,your pussy gaping and clenching on nothing but air,waiting and begging to be filled,stuffed,abused,reddened. You would take anything from him. His fingers,his tongue. But nothing would satisfy you the way his cock does.

“Pretty girl tell me where should i put it?guide me” his voice got more raspy as he looks at the mirror,eyes totally enchanted by the way your face looks so wreckable. He could just stuff your mouth with his cock but that's not what you wanted now,he knew very well how to please you…how to have you begging for him to do more than just using your face to get off.he knew you better than yourself.. “A-ass,want it in my ass–” you whined out as you felt the tip of his length rubbing up and down from your butt hole and your leaking hole,teasing each one at a time,watching you hiss whenever he playfully pushed in the tip on either. “As my girl wishes”

Your eyes widened at the sudden intrusion in your very small and tight hole,his raging cock penetrating past the tightness and the heat hugging his meat deliciously. It was so much that he had to halt his hips,feeling like he would be pushed out before he could even bottom out properly. “Never been so tight,fuck– you’re gonna be the death of me i swear–loosen up a little” his lips purse as the pleasure of your walls smear over his senses. And when he finally pushes in more of his girth,he can’t help but moan when you suddenly open up for him,taking him to the brim. “That's it,open up for me–let me give you what you want”Your mind was all over the place as he started moving,grabbing a hold of your hips. He pulled you back into his length,your hole getting wider each time he thrusted up. It was something in you,you didn’t know,needed to be fucked like this,with the chances of being caught by anyone,yori or even your daughter. His hips jerked up to yours,on loop as he led his hands up,bending down on you to capture your nipples in his torturing hold. He flicks it over and over. You can’t help but moan louder each time he rams right into your spot,so fucking perfectly he could die for this to happen over and over again. You looked so beautiful like this. All blown out,so pretty just for him. His palms move to your thighs,feeling the soft skin as he uses them as a leverage to plough into you even more. In between your thighs,your slick coats his dick to the right amount as it slides back in and out with the urgency to feel you even more. Heeseung thought he was living in a dream. You were chanting his name like he was doing yours. He moves your bended figure to the closed door of the bathroom. Your palms now flat against the wood as he fucks up to you. His eyes watch you lovingly as you try to blur out the obscene sounds coming out of your mouth but he smiles when he realizes the sounds down there are never doing you justice. “Be fair baby,let those tiny gasps out,come on”he demands, issuing a harsh thrust which aims enough to form a small bulge in your stomach. He almost succeeds in making you moan out loud. Your eyes roll back as he does so,telling him to go faster. He turns you around and rakes your thighs up with a bruising grip around them,lifting your ass up a bit for him to shove it in more easily.  That for sure would leave a great noticeable mark. And you’d love that. Wrapping your legs around his torso,all while his dick still inside you,he wastes no time in repeating his motions again. But only this time,his lips are desperate to find yours. Biting any piece of flesh his lips find,he keeps licking and sucking your lips. Giving you the messiest and dirtiest makeout you could ever have. Strings of saliva connect you both as he takes a moment to breathe,mouth open,eyes bewildered by your appearance. He couldn’t stop sliding it in,he got meaner about his thrusts as each second passed by,making you moan uncontrollably as you just stay there,being held and fucked dumb by your ex-husband. He’s so good with his hips that you don’t even notice his fingers teasing your other hole. “Think you can take it?bet you can’t and i don’t care if you can or not”he whines as he forcefully pushes in two of his digits in your cum hole,the thumb being left out to rub the nub. He does it so effortlessly,fuck your ass and penetrate your pussy at the same time– it all was too good for you Your starts clenching on his fingers and his dick,was as equal with it’s pace,not slow at all. He was so close,he could feel it. Eyes in a trance as it only saw fuck her fuck her fuck her soo good she can’t stand for days. You cried out at how good he was being to you. Giving you his cock,abusing your cervix like he owns it,slapping your ass countless times…

“Baby i’m gonna cum–it’s too warm and tight f’me–shit y/n!” his whines got louder as he felt his high approaching. “Could fuck you like this every goddamn day if you’d let me–feels like heaven in here–fuck”

You could only moan at how precise he was with what he wanted,and he wanted you to shower his dick with your juices. He wanted you to lose your mind over how good he made you feel. He wanted you to cum so much that it would push his cock out of your hole itself. It was getting too addictive in there,he wanted you to make sure you were left all used,broken and only for him to fuck anytime and anywhere. After all you were his fucking woman. “Should i cum in your ass?your back?your mouth?your pussy?” “cum in my mouth please–” “C’mere” he quickly pulls out and brings your face down to his cock,forcing it in your mouth. Your jaw hung only loose at his demanding hands. He fists his cock,stroking it fast,the tip flush pink and ready to shoot his seeds right down your throat. “Take it take it-take all of it-fuuckkkk!” Hot spurts of cum get in your mouth,your face and your chest as he keeps jerking off to his hands,chest heaving up and down slowly as the post orgasm breath gets taken in by the both of you. His eyes look warily,of any signs of negativity in your face,noting that there’s none,he collects his pants and retrieves his belt from your wrists,eyes not surprised when he catches a slight bruise over there. He felt sorry for hurting you like that…or even when he mindlessly took you by your ass… But it all was a one time thing-you just wanted any type of solace,and he only gave you what he could. He prayed you won’t take the words he said prior to him finishing in your mouth,to heart. He would feel guilty if he was the reason your feelings resurfaced again,he couldn’t risk that to happen. His eyes watch you now,but there only a hint of sadness in them now,as he knew if he walked out,it would be only him again…But that’s what is the best for the both of you. Things like this happen hee,just walk out….it’s ok

Millions of words could have been said to each other if only he just cupped your cheeks and told you he loved you always and forever,if you replied with a kiss on his cheeks,letting him know you both would work it all out again. It would have even worked out if you both had cried it out to you heart’s content,being in each other’s arms..But he was scared..scared that it would end up happening again. One time was more than enough to shake him up completely as a man. 

Haera reminds me of you so much….it hurts,love The only words which made up to your ears before you watched him leaving you alone….again,was

“I-i will be back next week,y/n”