#(not to mention the fact everyone thinks i’m better just because i ‘look better’ which. was exactly what i said would happen

[mudandvodka]

i should be asleep but i’m too angry so instead i’m trying to calm myself by making monster versions of me on picrew

[1d1195]

Chances

~5k words

From Me: It's been about 2 minutes since my last love at first sight story so I figured that was long enough for another one. Just a silly little thing.

Warnings: A tiny bit of smut. Also she's shorter than Harry (only relevant for 20 seconds, max). Other than that, should be fluff fluff fluff.

Summary: Airports are gross, overpriced, and extremely anxiety-inducing. She hates being there.

But it's also where she sits with a really cute guy who makes her feel like she's flying from the moment she looks at him and before takeoff even begins.

What was it about airports that were so romantic? Everyone knew how gross they were. A petri dish of diseases on every surface. Overpriced food and drinks. Not to mention the exorbitant price of books and magazines. Almost everyone passing through was stressed with worry about missing their flight, losing their bag, losing their kid, or personal items. She was one of them. Even with an hour and half cushion she was worried it would take off or something while she was going to get a coffee.

Which was perhaps why she didn’t notice where she chose to sit at her gate. All that anxiety festering and building in her that only the relief of flopping into one of the seats near an outlet would release. She put her coffee in the little cup holder, tucked her bag beneath her feet and placed the overpriced book on her lap.

Someone called out for another person making her head tip up at the noise.

It was fate. Destiny. Whatever corny thing a romance writer would say it was. But there were only so many places her eyes could fall, and they happened to land on him.

What was it about making eye contact with a guy her age at the airport that made her feel like she was in a Hallmark movie? He gave her a polite smile. One that was downright pretty. Too pretty to be on a man's lips and one that made her heart skip a beat.

Hence why she was thinking about the romanticism of the airport in the first place.

She sincerely hoped she returned his kind smile because at the very least she didn’t want to be rude. But it was all a matter of seconds; this little romance novel scene she was playing out. Her cheeks felt warm with a rush of blood to her skin before she dropped her gaze back to her book. She had to. If she didn’t, she was going to do something crazy like profess how taken she was with him after meeting those stunning green eyes for half a second like the love at first sight she saw in movies.

But was that his gaze she felt heating up her skin? She refused to look up, but the words of her novel blurred together, and she could only think about how blue was one of her favorite colors growing up but green might have kicked that right out of the top spot in that moment.

*

Their flight was delayed which stressed her out beyond comprehension. It wasn’t even that long but if she didn’t have somewhere to be when she landed, she would have felt a lot better. She swore she was the last person to board the plane, and it only fueled her anxiety further.

But if it weren’t for the delay, her being last, or the fact that she was going to miss the rehearsal dinner for her friend’s wedding, the anxiety of seeing the hot guy from the gate was sitting next to her empty seat was surely going to give her a heart attack at the ripe age of her late twenties.

She felt her cheeks burning in recognition as he smiled again at her. “Hi.”

“Hi.”

That pretty face that was going to haunt her dreams for a lifetime. “Are you 12A?” He asked. The window seat, fortunately. His voice was warm and gentle.

“Yeah, sorry,” she bit her lip.

He chuckled standing in the aisle to get out of her way so she could get settled. “S’nothing t’apologize for.”

“I’m sure you thought you were going to have the row to yourself,” she sighed and placed her oversized purse on her seat so she could stow her carryon above her head.

“Allow me,” he offered and hoisted the bag to the storage space as if she hadn’t crammed a week’s worth of clothes and shoes inside it for only a long weekend. “S’okay. S’not a big plane. They said it was full.”

Stupid airports and their romantic goggles.

“Thank you,” she said gratefully and slipped into their row.

She noted all of his items were ready: a book tucked into the seat back compartment, a bottle of water stowed there as well, and his phone and headphones that he pulled from his pocket and placed on the tray once he was seated again. She fiddled with her bag, pulling out the items she wanted tucked into the spaces she had easy access to as well. Most importantly, she grabbed the travel package of disinfectant wipes to clean off her little home away from home for the next few hours.

“Oh, that’s a smart idea,” he smirked admiring her tidiness.

“I think Covid taught me that airplanes are one of the most disgusting places on the planet.”

He chuckled. “I suppose s’fair,” he nodded in agreement. “D’you have an extra one?” He asked. She nodded and held the little package out to her row-mate. He took two and repeated her routine to clean. The air vent, the tray table, the belt buckle and arm rest. He used the second to wipe down his headphones, phone, and book with a quick swipe. She held out a little sandwich bag she used for trash while on the plane. “Y’must fly a lot,” he smirked at her preparedness.

“Used to,” she took a deep breath. “I still get kind of nervous.”

“Honestly, would think y’were not human if y’didn’t get nervous.”

The announcements were being made and she focused on the flight attendants and their safety demonstration. Well, tried to. The man beside her was so handsome it was like he demanded to be stared at; it was hard not to comply to such a silent request. He looked effortlessly comfortable and so attractive it was unfair. But maybe it was those stupid airport goggles making her fall in love with someone relatively close to her age and perhaps he was only a little hot.

But as he reached for the air vent again, his sweatshirt sleeve slid down his wrist so that her eyes darted to his forearm and landed on the tattoo on the inside of his arm. It wasn’t even something she would qualify as a sexy tattoo, but it was there. As it appeared in her vision, all her dignity, self-respect, and thought of him being only a little hot, flew right out the window.

Stupid men.

The plane jolted a little as it started its take-off, making her gasp and she gripped the armrest tight. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath as it settled into its rhythm. The final announcement that the ascent was going to begin came through the speaker and the plane got quiet as it always did at that time. “Hey, love?”

It was pathetic she recognized his voice already. Pathetic that she was going to respond to the little pet name. They had barely spoken. But the two little words were soft and sexy. In a gentle kind of way. She peeked out of one eye to glance at him. She swallowed thickly around the nerves. “Uh... yeah?”

“I can hold your hand, if y’want. S’just a tight grip y’got on m’arm,” it was so gentle. He didn’t even sound annoyed or pained. She gasped again, released his arm from her goddamn death grip, and covered her mouth. How fucking embarrassing. She didn’t even notice.

“I’m so sorry,” she whispered.

“No, s’fine,” he assured her, his smile was so kind. Like she was a wounded bird that he found after it flew into the window. “Here,” he offered pulling her hand from her mouth and laced their fingers together. “M’not a fan of takeoff either,” he explained giving her hand a gentle squeeze.

Did he feel how perfectly their hands fit together? Or did she imagine it? These airplane goggles were thick as hell. She was fucked when she got off the plane and never saw him again. They were silent during the remainder of the ascent and once the bell signaled that they could unbuckle, the pilot announced they were at cruising altitude, Harry gave her hand a squeeze again before releasing it.

“Thank you,” the sincerity in his voice made her blush and she was glad it was dark on the plane and the flight would remain dark. Because if she had to see how pretty his face was for the whole flight, she wasn’t going to make it. It was unfair that someone so handsome was seated next to her and she would never see him again. Someone who was thanking her for holding her hand. After she tried to rip his arm hair out.

Did his hand feel cold? Her hand felt cold. It was so ridiculous she just wanted to scream.

She had the worst luck.

*

Harry had the best luck. The pretty girl from the gate was in the same row as him. He got to hold her hand. The flight was only five or so hours long and the thought of it being delayed was miserable. But there she was looking so unbelievably beautiful.

There’s a REALLY pretty girl at my gate. He texted Mitch the second he saw her.

You better not be creepy. Sarah says there’s NOTHING worse than a guy being creepy at the airport.

I’m not going to make my soulmate uncomfortable. I’m just going to ask her every question that pops into my head to get to know her, and then ask how many kids she wants to have with me.

...Best of luck to her.

I’m probably not even going to talk to her :( She looks busy and what are the chances she’ll be sitting next to me? There’s no way I have that kind of luck.

But Harry did have that luck it seemed. The pretty girl was tucked into their row against the window, her head resting against the side of the plane. She was clean, organized, and adorable. He liked how she spoke to the flight attendant. Like she was a hinderance by being a passenger. It was sweet and he admired her kindness and thoughtfulness. She was so grateful when Harry handed her the little bag of pretzels and the drink she got.

“Reading something good?” She asked quietly.

Harry smiled and held it out to her so she could read the back cover. “Something m’sister recommended.”

She intently read the words on the back and nodded. “I think I’m going to add it to my never-ending list.”

God, he wanted to say he could give it to her when he was finished. But he was never going to see her again. So maybe he didn’t have the luck he hoped he did. “How ‘bout you?”

“Um...” she smiled. “It’s nothing... intelligent. It’s a brain-rotting romance thing. I don’t know, I like to read trashy stuff on the plane. Take my mind off it and everything else.”

“I see,” he didn’t ask Gemma a lot of questions, but he knew that meant it was filled with spicy romantic scenes that he could only dream about with someone as pretty as her. But that would be what Sarah called creepy, so he pushed that thought away quickly. “M’not a huge e-book person.”

“They’re good for travel,” she smiled. “I love bookstores, and I think I could build a whole house out of the books I have or want to buy. But traveling... it’s nice to have something compact. But I bought a book at the convenience store before we left. Which is so dumb because the mark up is like an extra ten dollars and I could have gotten it for free on this thing but the Wi-Fi is a bit of a problem sometimes, like I can’t get my new book to—” She paused as Harry listened intently. It was so disarming listening to her talk about books and her e-reader. It was adorable. Her eyes, even in the faint glow from the emergency airplane lights, were lit with excitement. “I’m rambling, I’m sorry.”

“No!” He frowned, shaking his head hurriedly. He immediately missed the excitement in her eyes. “Y’weren’t. I never thought ‘bout how the traveling is easier with it. I had t’forgo a whole outfit t’get m’books in m’bag.”

She smiled and sipped her drink. “I always do that. Except I’m sure you felt how heavy my bag was, I didn’t do it this time. I told myself I wasn’t going to overpack and I just couldn’t do it.”

“M’sister has a hard time with it too.”

“It’s impossible, I think. Especially for an event, you know?”

Was Harry still smiling? He couldn’t stop smiling. She just had this air about her. The air between them was vibrating and it wasn’t because of turbulence. She had to feel it, right? Harry couldn’t be imagining this electric feeling that was pulsing between them. They were just sitting there, staring at each other.

“Can I say something crazy?” He asked.

“Crazy? Are you planning on murdering me?”

“No,” he chuckled. “I jus’...” he paused and scanned her face memorizing the moment wondering how on earth he could meet her again. Maybe he’d be lucky enough to have a plane ride back with her. But there couldn’t be that much good luck. “This is a bit...” he trailed off and he chuckled. His face was only inches from hers. She bit her lip.

“Yeah... it is.”

“S’crazy, right?”

She nodded. “It is,” she whispered back.

“Hi,” he said quietly, a smile growing on his face.

“Hi,” she giggled.

*

When the plane began its descent, he held her hand again and gave it a gentle squeeze. It made her stomach flutter. As they left their little row, her heart hammered in her chest. How unfair it was that she would never see him again. He grabbed her bag from the compartment above and he walked with her all the way to baggage claim. They chatted a little more. Smiling and giggling. She didn’t even realize he was still holding her hand.

At least the airport goggles were working both ways it seemed.

“You let me go on and on about overpacking and you checked a bag?” He smirked, grabbed her hand again and led her toward the rideshare pickup spot. “Can I say something crazy?”

“Are y’planning on murdering me?” He asked.

“You felt it right?”

“Felt what?” The smile melted off her face and she dropped his hand like it burned her. “Whoa, hey,” he laughed and snagged it quick into his again. “S’bad joke,” he brought her hand to his lips and kissed her knuckles softly. “Course I felt it.”

She looked at her feet. The seconds felt like hours as she looked for something to say. “I don’t know where to go from here,” she frowned looking back at him.

“Yeah...” He sighed. “It’s...” he sighed. There was so much he wanted to say. So much she wanted to tell him. They needed more time, more space.

She wanted to live on that plane.

Harry wanted to stay at that airport.

She pushed up onto her toes and kissed him. It was crazy. Outlandish. Ridiculous. She cupped his cheek, her thumb brushing his skin. He smiled on her mouth making her want to melt. His hand found her lower back, pulled her closer because in just sneakers she couldn’t reach his lips completely. With her firmly in his embrace, he nipped at her lower lip. It was so sinful she shivered.

The honking interrupted their moment, pulling each other apart. “I have to go,” she whispered looking at the Uber that matched the license plate listed on her phone.

“I know.”

“Hi,” she whispered with a quiet laugh.

“Hi.”

“It was... really nice meeting you,” her smile was so goddamn pretty it was going to make Harry cry.

“It was nice meeting you, love,” he answered. Safely tucked her into the back of the cab. She unrolled the window.

“I don’t even know your name.”

“Harry,” he said.

“Harry,” she repeated. “Nice meeting you, Harry.”

*

“You have outdone yourself,” she smiled as she turned. The woman before her had a stunning smile, her hair half pinned, her white silk pajamas shimmering in the light. “They’re stunning.”

“You’re one to talk, I’d give you a hug but I don’t want to mess anything up,” she wrinkled her nose. “You love them?” She asked.

“I love them. They might upstage me.”

“I sincerely doubt it. You look stunning already.”

“Do you hate me for not making you a bridesmaid?”

“God, no,” she shook her head. “I’m more of a behind the scenes kind of person anyway. If you need anything today, I’m your girl,” she promised. “I was too far away,” she shrugged.

“Don’t remind me,” she frowned. “These flowers are the things of dreams. You are the best,” she sighed dreamily. “Can I see my bouquet?” Her frown quickly turned into a smile again. “I’ve been dreaming about it.”

She went to the bucket that was at the edge of what would be the ceremony floor and pulled the bouquet from it. She felt so proud and happy with the arrangement she made for one of her long-time best friends. “Seph,” she smiled. “You look beautiful,” she reminded her.

Persephone grinned admiring the bouquet. “You’re incredible... How was your flight? Other than delayed?”

“It was...” she tried to think about anything but the color green. “Good.”

“Oh?” Seph’s perfectly plucked eyebrow arched suspiciously “How good? Did you join the mile high club?”

“Oh my God, Persephone, of course not.”

“Well, you don’t say good like that if he’s not cute.”

A slight pause as she looked at the ceiling and then back at her friend. “He was really cute.”

“You’re a walking Hallmark movie.”

“That’s literally how I felt.” They giggled then she sighed thinking about the kiss she shared with a stranger. It was so unlike her to get all in a twist about a guy she just met. This wasn’t normal. It was like she was still in the airport. There were so many things they didn’t talk about. So many things she didn’t know about him and never would. It was unfair and yet she couldn’t stop herself from feeling like she was still flying. Shaking her head, she turned to her friend once more. “Alright, I have to finish these flower arrangements. Not sure if you know this, but there’s a wedding happening here tonight.”

“Sorry about your airplane man, babe,” Seph squeezed her shoulder.

“Hey, no frowns. It’s your wedding day,” she turned back to the table she was working on before her friend’s interruption. “I think some moments are meant to just... exist in that moment.”

*

Harry had thought about only three things that day. Breathing, cake, and of course the beautiful girl he met on the plane.

You KISSED her?! Sarah asked.

I know... I’ve never met anyone like her.

That’s a real bummer, Harry, honestly. It was and Sarah was right. At first, he was joking, but now he was certain she was his soulmate, and he just let her go. But what choice did he have? Yes, there was the feeling of his heart beating faster. The excitement of making her laugh. But there was the calmness, the tranquility of being beside her. Holding her hand.

Maybe it was morbid, but Harry was certain he was looking for someone to hold his hand if the plane were to go down and maybe that’s what a soulmate really was.

It was easy. Easy to talk to her, make her laugh. It was easy to get to know her and he didn’t even know anything about her. He didn’t know where she was from, what she did, where she was going, but he just knew that she was his and he let her go. There were too many variables. Too many things he couldn’t control.

“Harry, you almost done?”

“Jus’ putting the finishing touches,” he mumbled.

“We’re going to be late!”

“They won’t start without us,” he rolled his eyes.

“If there is a speck of—”

“I’m clean, I’m clean,” he shook his head, coming to the other room and brushing his hands along his coat. “Let’s get married, yeah?”

*

The maid of honor talked about how lucky the pair of them were to find one another. How there were an infinite number of opportunities for them to not have met but there was this special moment destined for each other. Where Persephone would walk into the library to sit in her favorite study spot and if she wasn’t so superstitious she would have just found another table.

But instead, she walked right up to the table, told her future husband he was in her spot, and she was preparing for an exam, and she wouldn’t let him use her favorite seat.

The best man spoke about how he was actually destined to be with the groom for forever and ever which made the entire place laugh.

But talk of luck and destiny just made her feel miserable on the inside. If she asked for his number or where he lived, it would be hours from where she lived. She would be devastated. A kiss was a good ending to her little story. That would suffice.

Maybe he already had a girlfriend. That would work too. Something to make her feel like a horrible person and lessen the blow that her soulmate was somewhere out there never to be seen again. Harry was just a guy that held her hand on a plane and talked about books with her for hours so she wouldn’t be scared. Someone that split his snacks with her even though she didn’t know him.

No. She couldn’t think about him. She had to stop thinking about him. It wasn’t good for her brain or her heart.

It was a beautiful ceremony. That’s what she needed to focus on. Persephone was a gorgeous bride and the event was just... perfect. “I think I’ve given your name and number to just about every single woman here,” Seph said sliding into a seat beside her and kissed her cheek.

She laughed. “Well thank you,” she smiled. “Let me see,” she held her hand out for the one with her new jewelry and she admired the pretty diamond that glimmered alongside the new band of diamonds below it. “Everything is beautiful.”

“This place is beautiful because of you. Just like you said.”

“Oh... it was beautiful before. I just added to it.”

“I didn’t see it though. It’s a bargain if you can envision it like this. I seriously wouldn’t have picked it without you saying you’d do the flowers,” Seph explained. “You saw so much more than I did.”

She shrugged. “I don’t think there’s a place on earth that doesn’t benefit from flowers.”

“Well, thank you,” she squeezed her hand. “I wouldn’t be having a wonderful day without you. I know it was a lot to travel out here and—”

“No, no. Don’t even. I wouldn’t have missed this for the world. Flowers or no flowers.”

Persephone grinned. “Well... in other news... do you see anyone as cute as your airplane man? Lerone has a lot of single friends.”

She smirked and shook her head. “No offense, Seph, but there is no one that’s going to be as cute as my airplane guy.”

“No one?”

Her head snapped up to the voice that she had already planned on dreaming about for the rest of her life. Her eyes met the same green gaze she had the pleasure of looking at for five hours while chatting about books and whispering about nothing of importance (but it all seemed important at the time). There was no way. She didn’t have this kind of luck. If there was a squeaky carriage at the grocery store she was sure to pick it. There was no way that—

“Hi Harry!” Persephone smiled. “Do you two know each other?”

“Something like that,” Harry stuffed his hands in his pockets. “Hi,” Harry grinned at her.

She cleared her throat, adrenaline flowing through her body. “Hi,” she whispered breathlessly.

“Harry baked our cake. He went to school with Lerone.”

“Oh,” she swallowed.

“And I heard y’did all the work with these pretty flowers,” Harry smiled.

“She’s like the flower queen,” Persephone giggled.

“I see.”

There was a pause while they stared at each other. Harry grinning like a madman, he was sure. But she was stunning. A floral dress draped her body, her hair half pinned up. She was so pretty. Somehow even prettier than the way she looked on the airplane and Harry was certain she could never be prettier than the moment she sat next to him.

“Hi,” she laughed.

“Hi,” he chuckled.

“Of all the gin joints.”

Harry took a seat beside her. Persephone had moved onto the next table and yet, she hadn’t even noticed. “I haven’t stopped thinking ‘bout you, love,” he grabbed her hand. “Been thinking ‘bout the plane, y’e-reader, and that earth-shattering kiss.”

Her cheeks heated up and Harry reached out to brush his thumb on her cheek. “This is insane,” she whispered.

“I know,” he agreed.

“I don’t have luck like this,” she explained. “I’m the kind of person that has their luggage get lost. Or my coat will snag on the doorknob. If I didn’t want to be paired with someone in a group project in high school, I could guarantee I was going to be in their group.”

“Y’think it’s lucky you’re meeting me?” He practically wiggled his eyebrows. Trying to sound egotistical but all it did was make her fall harder for him.

Her heart skipped a beat. “Well...yeah,” she swallowed. “I mean... what else am I supposed to call it?”

“It doesn’t have t’be luck. Can jus’ be meeting you.”

“I don’t think it works that way for me.”

“Can I dance with you?” He asked.

“I’m not very good and I think there’s a good chance I’ll step on your toes and—”

Harry was already helping her stand and tugging her to the dance floor. She did step on his toes, not hard, but her quiet “sorry” was lost on Harry. It felt perfect to hold her in his arms. One hand in his, her other at the back of his neck, his free hand on the small of her back. They fit like puzzle pieces. “A florist, hmm?” He hummed right by her ear.

“A baker?” She replied.

He chuckled. “What are the chances?”

*

“D’you have any idea how good y’look?” He groaned. She was in just a T-shirt. Harry’s T-shirt. He propped his head in his hand as he looked at her laying in his bed. His finger skimming just below the hem of the shirt. It barely touched her thighs and the only thing that stood in his way was a scrap of fabric she called underwear.

She giggled. “Back at you.”

“This is insane,” he smiled and pressed his lips to hers.

“It is,” she whispered.

If all her bad luck had been to make this weekend happen, she was forever grateful. This was worth it. Harry was worth it. “When’s your flight?”

“Quarter of five. When’s yours?”

“The same, of course.”

She smiled and tucked her face into his chest. “How far away are you from my shop?”

“Only ‘bout a half hour drive,” he told her. “Why?”

“Just... wondering.”

“Jus’ want t’know how much time and distance is between you and a toe-curling orgasm?”

“Don’t be crass.”

“I wasn’t talking ‘bout you,” he peppered a line of kisses down the side of her face and along her neck, down the curve of her shoulder, even when the T-shirt got in the way. “You are so pretty,” he mumbled pulling at his shirt to touch her soft skin and curves. “I don’t think I’ve ever met someone so pretty.”

“I’m sure that’s not true.”

“No, I’d remember you,” he smiled pressing his lips to her collarbone. He pulled the shirt off her and he brushed his thumbs across her nipples softly. Making them perk up more than they already were with the cold air from the room and no barrier between her. “Definitely remember this,” he mumbled into her skin.

“I have to pack,” she whispered but her voice was air and her resolve wasn’t there.

“Put it in m’checked bag,” his lips were occupied by one of her nipples making it extremely difficult for her to concentrate. “Jus’ shove everything in there. Then s’a promise I’ll see y’after we land.”

Her heart fluttered. “You want to see me again?”

He popped his head up from licking at her like she was candy. The air was even chillier against the sensitive skin without Harry’s warm mouth wrapped around her. “M’sorry, was I not clear?”

She smirked. “I don’t know. I’ve been thinking about airport goggles.”

“Airport goggles?” He repeated.

“I have really bad luck, Harry. I just worry that the idea of me in an airport because I’m roughly your age... or like, you know airplane food is a real thing? Not just a joke? Something about the altitude messing with your tastebuds or something. So maybe this is all an illusion, is what I’m saying. Maybe I am really unlucky because when we get back to our real life we won’t have airport goggles and—”

“Kitten,” he chuckled and rubbed his thumb across her lip. “Shh,” he whispered and pressed a soft kiss on her mouth.

“I’m just saying—”

“I know,” he rolled his eyes. “I hear you. But m’telling you, there’s no such thing as airport goggles. Even if there are, m’never taking them off.”

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[marvelwitchergilmore]

Sweetheart

Summary: Tyler Owens x Fe!Reader -> Times when you told Tyler to not call you 'Sweetheart' and the one time you did.

Disclaimer: This had been a w-i-p over the last couple of days so if it feels patchy, I apologise. Best friends to lovers, mutual pining, completely oblivious and scared idiots. Two almost kisses, one actual kiss, long love confession, little angst, lots of fluff, one bed trope, fake dating (sorta), lots of uses of the nickname 'Sweetheart', getting caught in a tornado, cowboy romance books mentioned. Not Proof Read.

You could remember the first time you told Tyler to stop calling you ‘Sweetheart’. 

It had been when he had been fixing his truck outside the fifth motel of the season. 

You’d both been friends for years. Ever since college. In fact, you were the first friend he made there. You’d been sitting under a tree since every bench either had a couple or a massive group of friends at each one. That was when he joined you. 

“Hey, do you mind if I sit here? It looks like most places are taken.”

Moving your bag from the spare patch, you let him sit down. Then you noticed his text book. 

You both got to talking and you found out your classes shared a building, and with a similar timetable for classes and a shared fear of student society nights, you both stuck together. 

Tyler took you to a couple of rodeos, showing you round and explaining everything that went on behind the scenes. Which was also when you found out he was an ex-bull rider. 

You showed him around campus and the best place to study, and when neither of you were working, you’d show him around your home town. 

And the rest was history. 

You’d both been together ever since. 

However, it wasn’t until after you both experienced an EF-4 whilst ‘off duty’ that you found something out about yourself. 

You were in love with Tyler. 

Of course, you’d always loved him as a friend. He was your best-friend and had been for years. Except, until that moment, you didn’t realise how deeply. And you couldn’t remember when it had happened. Had it been right away and you just confused it with friendship love? Or was it long after you made friends with him? 

You had a thousand and one questions about it, but something you didn’t question was how Tyler felt about you. Of course, he loved you, too. You were one of his best friends. But that was how he loved you. As a friend. 

And you were happy with that. More so considering letting your new fact be known out-loud might not only cost you your job but also your long time friendship with someone who you considered family.

Except, as time went on, you picked up on more and more things. Like how you always leaned into him, or found yourself by his side at most times of the day. Or like how he threw his arm around you when everyone sat around the campfire, or how you’d fall asleep beside him only to wake up in your bed the next morning. 

Or like how he’d always called you ‘Sweetheart’. Like he just did, when he asked you to hand him the socket wrench. 

“You know, you gotta stop calling me that. People are gonna think we’re together.”

Tyler took the wrench from you with a small chuckle. “But I always call you that.”

“That’s my point. What if someone wants to chat you up but they think you’re with me?”

“But I am with you.” Tyler told you. 

You scoffed and kicked the sole of his boot lightly. “I’m being serious. What if you miss out on meeting your wife? The mother of your children because she thinks you’re with me?”

From under his truck, Tyler rolled out. “Is everything okay?”

“Everything’s fine. Why?”

Everything wasn’t fine, but the less he knew about it the better. 

“You’ve never had a problem with me calling you Sweetheart before.”

You shrugged, trying your best to remain casual about it. “I was just thinking about it, s’all.”

Tyler hummed in confusion before disappearing back beneath his truck. “Okay, I’ll try not to call you Sweetheart in public anymore.”

Though he couldn’t see, you gave a small nod to thank him. You didn’t want to let him know that it was killing you asking that of him. You loved when he called you different nicknames, because that was him. If nothing else was right in the world, you knew he was. 

But the more and more you became aware of who you were when you were with him, the more you started to think about how it would start to affect him, even if he didn’t realise it. 

Except, for as much as he tried, he still slipped up every now and again. 

But the second time you told him to stop calling you that, he’d fully done it with intent. 

Another week, another motel. Only, this time there weren’t enough rooms to go around, with the rodeo in town. So, whilst you stood and listened to everyone fight over who had to share, you searched for some sticks before shoving them into the middle of the group circle. 

“Lily, here. Whoever pulls the short straw shares. I need the bathroom.”

So, you disappeared. 

However, when you came back, you found most of your family disappearing into their own rooms whilst Tyler was still standing inside of the motel office. 

“I think he’s gonna need your help.” Lily told you as she grabbed her bag from her car. 

A little confused, you followed her advice and headed for the office. Only when you opened the door…

“Ty, Lily said-”

“Sweetheart! There you are. Thought you’d gotten lost.” You were about to correct him and tell him to stop calling you when suddenly, you found yourself being dragged to his side. “Molly, this is my girlfriend.”

“She’s not your wife?”

Tyler seemed to panic for a moment. 

What the hell was going on?

“Is everything-”

Tyler looked at you, but something in his eyes begged you not to ask. 

“Well, no. Not exactly.”

“Well,” the owner drawled. “How long have you two been together?”

“Just a little over ten years.”

She almost exploded. “Ten years?! And you still haven’t put a ring on it yet? Oh, honey, what are you two doing?”

Tyler chuckled a little all the while your body became fully aware of his arm around your waist and his hand at your hip. “See, that’s the thing. We wanted to get married but-”

“Your parents don’t approve?”

You practically gave yourself whiplash for how quickly you turned to look at her, an offended look on your face. Okay, maybe you didn’t look your best but you’d all been on the road for six hours and you hadn’t slept the night before. And it wasn’t your fault Tyler looked good at any time of the day. 

Tyler, a little shocked himself, shook his head. 

“Her parents don’t approve?”

“Well,” Tyler seemed to be making it up as he went along. “Her parents don’t believe in marriage.”

You came back to earth. Lying, right. 

You nodded your head. “I’d love to get married but I kinda want my folks to be there. But, we’re getting around them, aren’t we, honey?”

You tried your best to ignore how easily the pet name rolled off your tongue for Tyler. 

Tyler smiled and you could have sworn he blushed. “That’s right.”

The owner looked between you both. “Well, I suppose…that’s okay. Here’s your key. I hope you two have a nice stay.”

“We will, thank you.”

Taking the key, Tyler took hold of your hand before opening the door for you and leading you outside. Once more, your hand was in his all the way towards the car, only having him let go when he climbed into the bed of his truck to grab his luggage and your own. 

“Do you…” You looked to see if the owner was still watching. She wasn’t. “Do you wanna tell me what just happened?”

“She thinks we’re together.”

“That’s my point.” You told him. “Why?”

He hopped down from his truck. “Boone took the short straw and since you were in the bathroom, the others called their own rooms. But, since he’s eaten nothing but spicy tacos for the last three days, I offered to share with you.”

“What a gentleman.”

Tyler smiled. “You’re welcome.”

“That still doesn’t explain why she thinks we’re together.”

“Hey,” Tyler held his hands up. “I was gonna correct her but then she started talking about how nobody who wasn’t wed shouldn’t share a room. So, when you walked in, I just rolled with it. The next motel is an hour away, but the rodeo in town is probably booked up.”

And everyone was tired. Dragging everyone back on the road would just feel illegal. 

So, taking your bag from him, you followed him up to your shared room. With just one bed. 

Considering the owner didn’t like unmarried couples sharing a room, it shouldn’t have been as much of a shock as it was. 

“Want me to take the floor? You already offered to share, seems fair.”

Tyler shook his head. “That bed could fit me, you, and probably a herd of cattle.”

You rolled your eyes before walking inside and dumping your bag on the small bench by the window. 

“We can share.”

Remember; normal. 

You and Tyler had shared a bed a hundred times before. This was no different. Other than your self-aware feelings for him and the fact that you’d been trying to complete less of them ever since. 

“Okay.”

And like normal, you both took your registered sides. Tyler by the door, you by the window. 

Barely an hour later, both yourself and Tyler were lying in bed staring at the ceiling. 

“How many people do you think have lied about being married just to get a room here?”

You shrugged. “Considering there are like, a thousand romance books out there with the main couples doing that exact thing…I guess…a lot.”

Tyler turned to you with a shocked smile on his face. 

“What?”

“You read romance books?”

You furrowed your brows a little. If you had been talking to anyone else, or talking to Tyler before you found yourself harbouring such a big secret from not only him but also yourself, you would have owned it. 

But this was a man you had secretly been in love with for god only knows how long. 

“I read other stuff, too.” You managed to stutter out. 

“I’ve never once seen you read a book that isn’t a textbook.”

“And? Plenty of people read romance. That’s why it’s a genre.”

“So, what else happens in these romances of yours?”

“They’re not my romances.” You clarified. But nothing could wipe that shit-eating grin from his face. 

“Are they all as cheesy as they used to be?”

You found yourself stumped at that question. “Used to be? Wait, you’ve read a romance book?”

Tyler nodded. “Just after I got stomped on by my second bull, I was waiting with the medic. I got bored and she gave me a book to read.”

“And how was it?”

“Cheesy,” Tyler said. “But the cover did have a half naked man on the cover. The doc tried to pass it off as her friends, but since she went bright red in the face, I knew it was her. So, what are yours?”

Then he started listing off different characters, revelling in the embarrassment it was causing you to admit it to him. 

“A hot firefighter who saves kittens from trees? A…18th century Duke from London, England who just so happens to ‘hate’ his sister’s best friend? That was what the Doc’s book was. Oh my god, is it a Prince in disguise who falls in love with the local baker and they win a pie contest together?”

“You’re an asshole.” You told him before turning over. 

“Oh, come on.” Tyler laughed. “Just tell me. If you don’t, I can always ask Boone to go through your goodreads. Maybe I want to buy you one for your birthday, but I don’t know which one you’ve already-”

“It’s cowboys.” You felt like you were shouting. 

“What?” You could already hear the grin on his face, which made you only try and repress yours. But he heard it anyway. 

“It’s cowboys. Bull riders, ranch owners, cowboys. Those are the romances I, mainly, read.”

You managed to build up enough courage to turn onto your back, only to look over and see Tyler’s smile still on his face. 

“Go on, go ahead. Laugh at it.”

“Are any of them Tornado Wranglers?” 

With a laugh behind your voice, you threw a pillow at his head. “Shut up and go to sleep.”

From behind you, you heard him laugh as he fixed his pillow. “Whatever you say, Sweetheart.”

You turned the lamp off. “Go to sleep.”

He was still smiling as he turned his own off. “Night, Sweetheart.”

By the time you woke up in the morning, you were scrambling to find out where you were. 

In your head, you’d been in bed with Tyler. You’d all been sitting around the campfire, listening to Tyler finally agree to tell an actual spooky story. Of course, after scaring the crap out of you, Dexter told a nicer one which…you fell asleep to. Only, you’d woken to Tyler being in your bed. He’d carried you to bed. Again. But, just as you were laying in his arm, you felt the ground beneath you begin to shake before a cold draft came up the back of your neck. 

By the time you turned to look at the window, you saw…

Flying cows. 

Tuning back around, everything went from colourful to dim. Almost black and white. You could just about make Tyler out beneath the covers but each time you took a step, you found yourself unable to move. 

But when you finally did move, a pair of arms reached for you and held you back to the window. 

You woke up with a start, trying to figure out where you were. 

You were in bed. 

With a pair of arms around you. 

You sat up. 

You were in bed. 

In a motel. 

With Tyler. 

You were in bed with Tyler. 

For the second time in less than twenty four hours, you nearly gave yourself whiplash. The window was open a little. Tyler must have woken up in the night and opened it. But there were no flying cows. You made a mental note to not watch The Wizard of Oz, and have it be the last thing you watch, before bed.

Looking down at a sleeping Tyler, you noticed where his arms were around you. Around your back, and since you’d moved to sit up quickly, across your thighs with his hand closer to your hip. 

Trying your best, you tried to ignore how attractive he looked even when he was asleep. You’d seen the same image many a hundred times in the last ten years, and yet it never got old. Of course, at the time you weren’t trying to bury feelings. 

Slowly, you tried to peel yourself from him only to have him tighten his hold on you and pull you back towards him a little. 

“S’everything okay, Sweetheart?”

Sweetheart. Morning voice. Looking like that.

“Every…” You swallowed and forced yourself to look away before he caught the heat on your cheeks. “Everything…everything’s fine.”

Having most of his face buried into his pillow, he opened up one eye and looked at you. “You’re looking a little flushed there, Sweetheart.”

The nickname rolled so easily off his tongue, you knew he didn’t notice how casually he used it with you. 

If you weren’t awake before, you were when he spoke. 

Almost throwing yourself from him, you scooted out of bed and stood up. “I’m fine. Promise. I’m gonna get some coffee.” It almost sounded like a question as you looked around for your jeans. 

From behind you, you heard him shuffle around the bedsheets. When you looked back, you almost melted at the sight. Lay there in bed, watching you with that smile on his face that you could never quite pin a meaning to. One arm behind his head, the other out of the covers and by his side, white tee on, his pj pants that you’d gotten him almost seven christmases ago just visible from the flipped corner of the bed. 

“Yeah. Coffee. You want one?”

“You sure you’re okay? You never usually have this much energy in the morning.” Tyler said. “Sure you don’t wanna wait. Don’t think the diner’s even open.”

“That’s okay.” You grabbed a random shirt from the chair by the small dining table. 

Again, that smile was on Tyler’s face. 

“I’ll be back soon.”

From their own rooms, the others watched as you left your shared room with Tyler, dressed in his shirt, looking like you’d just rolled out of bed. 

Lily: Do you think something finally happened?

Dex: If something did, I don’t think she’d look so freaked. 

Dani: Or be leaving their bed so early in the morning…

By the time Tyler had actually gotten out of bed, showered and had changed, you still weren’t back from your freaked coffee run. 

“Hey, Boone!”

“Yeah, dude?”

“You seen Y/n?”

Boone shook his head. “No. Why?”

Tyler looked…sad. And confused. “Nothing. No reason.”

But rather than wait around, he went and looked for you. And it wasn’t long before he found you. Sat inside a mostly empty cafe-diner, you were waiting on another two coffee’s to go. 

“Hey.”

Tyler could have sworn you’d jumped out of your skin. 

“Oh, hey.”

“Was starting to get worried. Need some help.”

You looked at the two coffee holders. “Uh, sure.”

Tyler watched you. You couldn’t look him in the eye. And you still looked flushed. He was starting to get worried. For years, you’d both been attached at the hip. But in the last six months, you’d asked him to stop calling you ‘Sweetheart’, had stopped leaning into him or even standing by his side when in a group. You’d stopped fighting Boone for riding shotgun with him. You’d stopped falling asleep on his shoulder or even sitting beside him at night. And he was pretty sure if the owner of the motel didn’t make a point of the married couple sharing a room, you would have taken the flatbed of his truck over sharing a room with him. 

“Are we okay?”

That got you to look him in the eye. “What?”

“I just mean…Are you sure you’re okay? In all the years I’ve known you, you’ve never even been awake before a diner has opened unless you’ve had to be.”

You nodded and looked back at the drinks. “I just needed coffee, that’s all.”

“But if something was going on, you would tell me, right?”

You forced yourself to look at him, hoping he wouldn’t see through your lie. “Of course.”

Tyler nodded, but something in his gut told him you weren't telling him the full truth. 

Either way, he kept his eye on you for the rest of the day. And the days that followed. 

You’d always go to bed earlier than everyone else, or much later. He’d fall asleep watching you read over data and old textbooks but would wake up and catch a glimpse of you curled up either on the bench by the window or on the bed beside him reading a book he could only guess was a ‘Cowboy Romance’ considering a cowboy hat was just one of the small details designed into the cover. 

He’d smile and close his eyes again, listening to you turn the pages every now and again, gasp quietly or let out a soft laugh every now and again. 

Only, when the morning came round, if he woke up before you, he’d close his eyes, still holding you close because he knew the moment you woke up, you’d stay still for a moment but if he moved, you’d shoot right out of bed. 

It was getting harder and harder each day to pretend you didn’t worry him. And it was getting even harder to ignore the feeling in his chest he got each time he looked at you, or heard your voice or even thought about you. 

But all of that finally came to a head a few days after rolling into town when a tornado hit. 

All the data had shown no tornado was meant to come into town and what with the rodeo on, everyone headed down to it. Walking down there, Tyler could remember when he first brought you to one of the circuits he used to run on. He’d loved to have you there. To have you know of his life before he met you, because in a way, it put you there. Like, even if you hadn’t met til college, you had a place in all aspects of his life. 

And for the first time in months, you met his eye and smiled. Like you used to. Watching the bull riders, and the cowboys and him asking you if you remembered when you and him first attended a rodeo together. 

But just as he looked back at you, your gaze matched his for a second too long and…you looked away. Flushed, embarrassed, then…annoyed. 

Not at him. He knew that look off by heart. 

You were annoyed at yourself. 

But why?

Forcing himself to look back at the rodeo, he tried his best to not think too deeply into why you were annoyed with yourself. But it still worried him. 

But then something else worried him. 

Everyone’s alert on their phones. 

“We weren’t picking up cells this way.” 

One look shared between both yourself and Tyler let the other know what to do. People had to get to shelter there and then. And for the next fifteen minutes, everyone started running, staring up their engines to drive away or running to find shelter. 

You and the rest of the team helped who you could before finding shelter for yourselves. 

“Down here!”

Tyler pulled you closer and followed you down the steps inside the cramped underground shelter before you helped him shut the doors. Bolting it shut before the Tornado could whip them open again, you and him (like everyone else) huddled to the floor. 

With his arm across your back, you turned into him, gripping onto his shirt for dear life. And despite the rattling of the doors, people’s nervous screams and the battered weather outside, you eventually only heard one thing. 

“It’s okay. We’re okay.” 

Tyler’s voice in your ear provided soothing words that eventually started to slow your heartbeat. He pressed a kiss into your hair, his other hand coming around your front, before holding onto your hand that was gripping onto his shirt. 

“We’re okay. I promise. Just breathe, Sweetheart. Breathe with me.”

And you did. 

You didn’t know when the tornado had passed or when everyone felt like they could breathe again. But you did know you’d just fallen so deeply in love with Tyler at the thought of losing him, even if he’d been wrapped around you the entire time, that you were almost paralysed in those moments. 

Slowly, you looked back up and directly at him. Any closer and you both might have kissed. Tyler’s eyes were searching your face just as yours were searching his. He was okay. He wasn’t hurt. No scars. No bruises. 

Instinctively, he let his hand from round your back come to your face, pushing the hair from it all the while letting his finger trace your cheekbone and your cheek. 

If he didn’t fear losing you forever, he would have kissed you. 

“I love you,” he said in his head. 

“Tyler…”

He just nodded. “We’re okay.”

Leaning forward, you hugged him and he hugged you back. 

It was slow getting back to the motel. It wasn’t until early hours. You took turns getting cleaned up and for the first time in a long time, you didn’t scoot to the end of the bed only to make your way over to him in your sleep. 

As he climbed into bed, you turned towards him. 

“Come here.”

That night, you fell asleep in his embrace, listening to his heartbeat inside of his chest. Feeling his lips press a kiss to your temple twice before he locked you inside his hold, warming your entire body. 

And when a lighter morning rolled in, Tyler woke to his name being quietly called. 

You were having a nightmare. 

Holding you closer to his chest, he stroked the back of your head with one of his hands before his other hand took hold of yours. He pressed a kiss into your palm before pressing a similar one to your temple. 

“Shhh, it’s okay. You’re okay. I’m here, Sweetheart. I’m right here.”

You calmed after that. But you woke up not long after. However, before you could scoot away from him and launch yourself out of bed before your body was ready for it, he told you something.

“You were calling out for me. You were having a nightmare.”

Going off your previous track record, you were about to lie. Tell him you weren’t or that you weren’t even having a nightmare. That you’d been arguing with him or you’d been talking to him and the other Wranglers. 

But you didn’t. 

You told him the truth. 

“You were hurt.”

Tyler was a little taken aback. 

“You were hurt and I needed you to be okay.”

Tyler didn’t know what to do. He didn’t know if your nightmare had been frequent or if it was just a fluke after everything that had happened in the last twenty four hours. 

So all he could do was say…

“Sweetheart.” 

His voice soft, his touch even softer against your skin and yet secure in all the same aspects, he pulled you closer to him as he pressed a kiss to your head. 

“I’m okay. I promise I’m okay. I’m right here.”

He kissed your hand. “I’m right here.”

All you could do was just…look at him. 

The man you’d been best friends with for as long as you could remember, the man who’d shown and invited you into parts of his life, the man who had invited you to be apart for the rest of it, the man who you’d spent almost every single day with ever since, the man who you’d been and only fallen deeper in love with each day…was right by your side. 

He was right in front of you. 

He wasn’t a dream. 

He wasn’t a nightmare. 

There were no flying cows, there were no more tornadoes (for now at least), there were no elements of anything being fake. 

And the longer you looked at him, the more you realised…

You would always be in love with him. 

And there was nothing you could do about it. 

It wouldn't matter how much you avoided him, or pushed yourself or even pushed him to find someone. You would always love him. 

With his thumb caressing your cheek, Tyler watched you. 

“God, you’re beautiful.” 

He hadn’t meant to say it outloud. But he was glad he did. 

Your other hand came to his chest…but you didn’t push him away. And you didn’t push yourself away, either. 

“Tyler…”

All of a sudden, it was like the only thing either of you could hear was your heartbeats. Blood pumping faster and faster and you got closer and closer, if that was even possible. 

Finally, Tyler made a decision. 

Cupping your face, he moved until you were almost under him, placing the hand he kissed over his heart. 

Suddenly, he was nervous. 

He swallowed, gazing at you. 

“C…Can I…” He swallowed again. 

Except, just as he went to ask, and you would have replied, a booming knock came to the door making both of you jump out of your skin. 

Neither you or Tyler moved, but when it came a second time, you looked at each other quickly before bolting out of bed. You didn’t know what to do. Your mind was still trying to process the last ten minutes.

Whilst you stood on your side of the bed, Tyler took a final look back at you. And when he opened the door, Boone thought Tyler looked like he was guilty of sin. 

Boone had known Tyler long enough to know that look. Anybody who didn’t know him, well, they wouldn’t have noticed. But he did. 

“Boone, man. We were asleep.”

“Shoot. Sorry, dude.” Boone apologised. “Well, we were all gonna get some food before we hit the road to help. Want something?”

“Where’s your phone?”

“Dude! We tried. Tried Y/n, too. I’ve got a charger if you need one.”

Tyler sighed. Right. Dead phone. 

“No, that’s good. We’ll just…get us the usual?”

“And coffee!” You heard yourself add. 

Tyler smiled at the sound of your voice. “And coffee. Wait, here.”

Handing Boone a twenty dollar bill, he thanked him before shutting the door. 

“He’s gonna give someone a heart attack one day.” You said as Tyler finally shut the door. 

Tyler scratched the back of his head with a nervous chuckle. “Almost gave me one.”

Then the silence hit. 

“Well, I, uh…we better….bathroom. I’m just gonna…yep.”

In his heart, Tyler was elated at the thought of what almost happened. But in his gut, it was like a punch to his soul. 

You couldn’t even meet his eye when you spoke and ran towards the bathroom. And when you left and he entered, it had never been more awkward between you both. 

He could only hope he hadn’t lost you. 

He loved you. 

He was in love with you. 

But he didn’t want that to be the reason he lost you. 

For the rest of the day, he only felt worse. 

And so did you. 

You’d almost kissed him. Then Boone had knocked on. And suddenly him being the only other person in the room made you feel like the walls were closing in. No matter how much you wanted to go back to the bed and finish what had almost started…something inside you forced you away from it. 

Being on the verge of telling your best friend who you’d been in love with for years was suddenly a much higher cliff than you’d originally thought. 

Due to the wreckage of the tornado, you and the rest of the crew spent the day helping people, giving them food and water, making sure they were okay. 

However, just a little after two, you looked around for him. And, like usual, you found him instantly. 

By his truck, he was loading a toolbox back into the flatbed. And he turned. He’d seen you. 

He’d been looking over at you all day. And for the first time, you met his gaze. 

He would spend the rest of his life loving you. There wasn’t a single doubt in his mind or in his heart about that. And there never would be. 

He could only hope that what had almost happened that morning wouldn’t make you hate him. 

After a moment, you heard your name being called and you forced yourself to look away from Tyler. 

“I love you,” you told him, in your head. 

“I love you,” he told you, in his head. 

Hours passed and every five minutes, Tyler’s gaze would find yours again before being forced away. 

When he wasn’t looking at you, he was thinking about you. Thinking about the tornado, thinking about the rodeo, thinking about the motel room. And watching you from across the wreckage, he made a decision. 

He could only hope it was the right one. 

And getting back to the motel couldn’t come quick enough. 

By the time everyone did get back, it was long after the sun had gone down. And entering your motel room, Tyler tried to get you to talk to him. 

“We need some ice. I’ll go and get some.” 

“Y/n.”

“I’ll be back in five minutes. Promise.”

Only, you weren’t. And when Tyler heard a crash, he practically ran out of his room and down the stairs. 

“Y/n?”

Looking around, he saw you stood at the end of the building scooping ice into the bucket. 

“You okay?”

You looked up. “Yeah, why?”

Tyler looked around. “I thought I heard something.”

You were confused. “I didn’t hear anything.”

But as the ice stopped, you both heard it. Trash cans. 

“This way.”

“Tyler-”

Grabbing your hand, he pulled you round the corner. Neither of you were cast in the light from the motel but rather hid in the darkness beside it. You looked behind you and around the wall whilst Tyler stood in front of you. 

“What was that?”

“I don’t know.”

It happened again and then…

Laughing. 

You physically relaxed and turned back to Tyler with a relieved smile. 

“It’s just people coming back from the bar. We’re safe.”

Only then did you realise how closely you stood together, or how you could feel his weight slowly pressing against you. Or maybe you were pulling him forward. 

Softly, you pressed yourself into the wall as Tyler started towering over you, his hands slowly grazing over your hips as he looked at you. 

It was like what had happened that morning only…more. 

Slowly, your breath tangled with his, your heartbeat steadily rising as one of his hands ran up your body and pushed your hair from your face. 

“Tyler…”

“We should get back inside. Before you get cold.”

You were anything but that, in the moment. 

And when you both got back inside your room, having Tyler carefully take the ice bucket from you and place it on the table, only made you feel hotter. 

“We need to talk about this morning.”

“Tyler…”

“Sweetheart, I mean it.”

“Didn’t I tell you to stop calling me that? There’s nothing to talk about.”

“We almost kissed.”

You closed the bathroom door in his face before reaching for your toothbrush and paste. Only, you forgot to lock it. 

Opening it back up, Tyler stood by the door, one hand on his hip, the other on the handle. 

“Y/n, will you please listen to me?”

“Tyler, please. Please, just…just stop. Before either of us say something we can’t take back.”

He stood tall. “What if I don’t wanna take it back? What if I want to say it out loud so we can both finally be finished with this…this…this weird awkward…thing between us. In ten years never once has it been awkward.”

You sighed, dropping your toothbrush under the tap before rinsing out your mouth. “Well, whatever it is, you can say it to an empty room.”

Pushing past him, you grabbed your jacket and headed for the door. You weren’t going to stick around to hear him tell you your friendship with him was over. That your worst fear was about to become your reality. 

Only, as you reached for the handle and opened up the door, the next three words that came from Tyler’s mouth, as he stood, still in the opening of the bathroom, stopped you right in your tracks. 

“I love you.”

He’d told you he loved you a thousand times over the years, but it had always been quickly and in the same way and same tone as he told anybody else who he loved. But those three words. They were different. 

They meant something entirely different. 

You could hear him slowly taking a few steps forward. 

“I love you, Y/n. I’m in love with you.”

You physically couldn’t move. Everything inside of you wanted to do…something. Kiss him, tell him the same, tell him he was mistaken, that he didn’t love you, tell him to stop, tell him to keep going.

“And I think…” He took a breath. Not of fear, not of worry, but of relief. Like finally saying these words out loud was a weight off his chest. “I think you’re in love with me, too.”

You didn’t know what to say, so you just waited. 

“Now, you can run out of here. You can leave, if you want. But know that I want you to stay. I want to talk about this. All day, the only thing I’ve been able to think about is you. About the rodeo, about the other morning. About all the other times I’ve wanted to kiss you and to have you be the one I share a room with. Not because we’ve drawn straws but because you would want it, too. Again, if you want to leave, you can. The door’s open. But I’m hoping you’ll stay.”

Tyler couldn’t comprehend what was going on inside your head as he watched you. He could have swore he saw your body move a little. Maybe he was wrong. Maybe you were going to leave after all. Maybe all of it was just in his head. 

But then you let go of the handle. 

The door shut in front of you and suddenly the white noise from outside floated away. You’d made your choice. But you were still scared. 

“I…I don’t know what to do from here.”

“That’s okay.” Tyler moved closer to you until he was directly behind you. Carefully, he took your jacket from you and you let go of it willingly, allowing him to place it on the bed behind him. “We can figure it out together.”

Still behind you, Tyler’s hands lay gently by your sides. “Is this okay?”

“Yes.”

He took another step closer. You could already feel the heat from his body behind you, warming you from the cold draft that had wafted through when you’d opened the door. 

“I’ve loved you since before I can remember. But I know the day I met you, you were gonna be in my life forever.”

Feeling brave, you turned in his arms to look at him. For a moment, he looked scared. Like it would be the last time you’d ever look at him and he’d never see you again. Scared that you’d leave. 

But as your gaze landed on his, that smile came back. 

“What?” 

Still with that smile, he told you. “You look like you love me.”

“How can you tell?”

“Because you get this look in your eyes. Like something I’ve never seen before. And it’s new every time. Do you love me?”

You didn’t have to think about your answer, but the courage you had to build to tell him took a moment. “Yes. I-I don’t know when. But I think one day it just…clicked. But I was scared. I still am…scared. Tyler, what if…what if something goes wrong? What if we lose each other forever?”

“That’ll never happen.”

“How? How can you know that?”

“I just…do. It’s like a tornado. Part science; all the chemicals that go into loving someone. Part religion. I don’t have to physically see how something happens, but I like to believe it’s there. Maybe I don’t have all the answers, but I knew I had to listen to what my gut told me.”

“And what did your gut tell you?”

Tyler gave you that smile again. “It told me that; ‘that girl, right there, under that tree. You need to talk to her, because she is going to be the best part of your day for the rest of your life.’”

You felt the heat in your cheeks rise. 

“You have always been, and always will be, the best part of my day, Sweetheart. No matter how many tornados, no matter how many sleepless nights on the road or how much data we collect. The best part of my day is talking to you. Is looking over at you and having you look back. The best part of my day has forever been, and always will be, you.”

“So, trust me when I say that,” he continued. “Nothing bad will ever happen to us. Because I don’t plan on letting you go just because of fear. I’m in love with you, Sweetheart. And I want to be in your life, for the rest of your life.”

You smiled, “Say that again. The ‘I’m in love with you,’ part.”

Tyler was a little confused, but he would say it as many times as you wanted. 

“I’m in love with you, Sweetheart.”

Watching you blush and try and hide your smile made him realise why you’d asked him to say it again. 

“I knew you liked it when I called you that.”

You looked back up at him. “You know, you’re lucky I love you.”

Tyler smiled. “That’s the first time you’re saying that outloud.”

“Does that mean you’re gonna kiss me now? Or are you just gonna keep talking, Cowboy?”

“No, ma’am.”

Pulling you in closer, Tyler finally kissed you. 

And it was…

Everything. 

Every moment he’d dreamed of finally kissing you, every moment you’d wished he’d do so, every moment you’d both shared, harbouring those feelings, wishing for something more and being too scared to reach for it…

It was a lot to put into a first kiss. 

But it came out naturally. 

Having waited years, you both had some catching up to do. 

[reidswhre]

could you write something about this? rossi having a teenage daughter who is just as smart as spencer, and them meeting each other and discovering the similarity, is something different but i think it could be fun to read! 🫶🏻

spencer reid x fem!rossi!reader

warnings: nothing, pure fluff

a/n: this is so cute omg thx for sending it! btw i didn’t realize it said “teenage” until now i’m so sorry 😭☹️ i hope that doesn’t bother you too much, she’s spencer’s age!

Rossi had invited everyone to dinner at his house. It was something “simple.” In quotes because, come on, for Rossi nothing was simple.

“Come in, if you break something, I’ll tell Hotch to cut half of your salary.” He gave a fake smile as he let them in.

“Aww, you’re so kind.” Emily returned the fake smile, which made everyone laugh.

“Take a seat, how about some wine?” Rossi offered, and everyone graciously accepted.

Except Spencer. “No, thanks— I don’t drink alcohol.”

“Of course you don’t, kid.” Rossi rolled his eyes. “What would you like? Orange juice? Fruit puree?” Rossi teased him.

“I’m fine, thanks.” Spencer smiled a little.

“Dad, do you know where the library is—” You came down the stairs quickly before noticing the team in the living room. “Oh— Hello.” You lowered your voice, a bit shy.

“Hey you, I forgot to mention it.”

“You definitely did.” You said, shrinking into your spot.

“Look, this is my work team.” He pointed to each person as they greeted you. “And this is my daughter.” He introduced you by name to the team.

“Nice to meet you.” You tucked a strand of hair behind your ear. “I’m going to… head upstairs. Excuse me.”

“Are you kidding? Stay.” Your dad encouraged you.

“I don’t want to intrude.”

“Don’t say that, sweetie. You’d never be a bother.” Garcia spoke up.

“And if it does bother them, they can leave, it’s my house.” Rossi joked, and everyone laughed a bit.

“It’s fine, really,” Hotch said.

“Okay, thank you.” You finished coming down the stairs, a bit nervous.

Now, you weren’t thaaaat shy (just a little), but come on, it was your dad’s entire work team. How could you not be?

“I didn’t know you lived with your daughter.” Morgan smiled, taking a sip of his wine.

“I don’t, she’s visiting.” Rossi gave you a look to encourage some small talk.

“I live in England, I’m in university.”

“Oh, where?” Spencer asked, intrigued.

“Oxford.” You smiled shyly.

Morgan whistled. “That’s fancy.”

“It’s not as grand as it sounds.” You shook your head.

“Oxford, along with Cambridge, is the elite of education in England. One of the two always appears in the top rankings of the country, as well as the list of the ten best universities in the world.” Spencer looked at you. “I think it is as grand as it sounds.”

You narrowed your eyes a bit at his response.

Spencer, the genius of the BAU, you knew a little about him.

Your dad used to talk about him and said you two would probably get along, but he said that about everyone, so you didn’t pay it much attention.

“Cambridge is better than Oxford.”

“Depends on the field.” He replied.

“No, it doesn’t. In general statistics, it’s better.”

“You can’t rely on general statistics.”

“Said the profiler.”

Everyone chuckled at your little exchange, which made you smile a bit.

From then on, everyone started their own conversations, and you noticed Spencer sitting there, staring at his glass of water.

“Anyway, I chose Oxford for a reason, so you’re not completely wrong.” You sat next to him.

“You got into Cambridge?” He raised his eyebrows.

“Mhm.” You nodded. “Want me to be honest?”

“Of course.” He looked at you intently.

“Maybe the fact that Oxford looks like Hogwarts influenced my decision a bit.”

Spencer laughed. “That’s fair.”

“And you? Where did you go? I’ve heard you have several PhDs.”

“I went to the MIT.” He smiled nervously.

“That sounds amazing.”

“Not as amazing as yours.” He looked at you.

“Sure, yours wasn’t run by Dumbledore.” You joked.

“You really like it, huh?”

“Are you kidding? I love it! It’s my favorite series.” You got excited talking about Harry Potter.

“I’m more of a Star Wars fan.” You grimaced at that. “What’s wrong? You don’t like it?” He raised his eyebrows.

“I’ve never seen them,” you admitted.

Spencer’s eyes widened. “No way!”

“Seriously! They just don’t appeal to me, sorry.” You apologized through laughter.

“Well, what else do you like then?”

“Hmm.” You looked at the ceiling, thinking. “I like magic.”

“Really? I love magic.” Spencer smiled.

“Yeah? What can you do?” You playfully challenged him with a smile.

“Uhhh.” He looked around, searching for something to show you.

“Nothing?” You smiled.

“I guess not…” He shrugged. “Unless…” He made a small gesture for you to check behind your ear.

You gave him a confused look and reached behind your ear like he did. You pulled out a little piece of paper.

You gasped in surprise. “How did you do that?”

“I can’t tell you.”

“Come on! That’s amazing!”

“Nope, sorry.”

“Aww.” You pouted.

“Thank you all so much.” You heard someone behind you saying goodbye.

“Oh—I think I have to go.” Spencer stood up from his seat.

“Yes, of course—” You stood up as well to say goodbye to the others.

A little later, after everyone had left, you were helping your dad clean the kitchen while he was tidying up the living room.

“What’s this?” He asked, showing you the little piece of paper you had pulled from behind your ear earlier.

“Oh, I don’t know, it’s just a magic trick. You can throw it away.” You laughed while washing the glasses.

“Are you sure?” He said, walking over to you. “It has a number.”

“What!?” You dropped the glasses in the sink and quickly dried your hands. “Let me see!” You rushed over to your dad and snatched the paper from him.

“That kid was trying to hit on you?” He rolled his eyes while looking at you.

“Oh my God, yes!” You smiled, excited.

Then you remembered your dad worked with him, and your smile dropped.

“I mean— maybe, probably not— it doesn’t matter.” You shrugged and casually slipped the paper into the back pocket of your pants.

“Sure, it doesn’t.” He narrowed his eyes and started heading up the stairs. “Remind him you live 7,588 kilometers away!” He shouted from afar.

You smiled a little and gave a small jump of excitement in the quiet of your living room.

[sageryuri]

NEW YOU, JAKE SIM.

pairing jake sim + afab!reader.

genre fluff, angst, smut.

summary all hell breaks loose when you, the heir to the throne, decides to run away to begin a new life. luckily, you experience a surprise encounter with jake sim, which brings upon freeing adventures and sprouts a taboo relationship between a princess, and a poor criminal.

word count 10.7k (unedited).

warnings i’m sorry for the beomgyu slander 😔, jake refers to reader as princess as much as he can really, suicide mentions, family toxicity, NSFW MINORS DNI!!! (fingering fem!receiving, handjob, oral male!receiving, unprotected sex, light choking), death mentions.

an tis here!! took me awhile but i always prevail. ty for all the support <3

Royalty never lived up to the expectations that outsiders had anticipated. None of the money, gowns and experiences would live up to what those people would always have — complete freedom.

They could travel whenever they desired, do what activities they desired, be with who they desired; ultimately being who they wanted to be. You were stuck on the inside of a kingdom, and despite its tremendous size, it could never live up to the feeling of adventuring outside of the castle walls.

You had been unsure what you had done wrong to deserve something so terrible, but you had been enforced into a marriage that you would never agree to. In fact, they were so enthralled by this marriage, that you were not allowed to leave the premises so you couldn't meet anyone else until you had fallen in love.

Though, you don't think anyone could fall in love with Choi Beomgyu. He was idiotic, vain, rude and every other possible negative adjective you could think of. Even those who matched his asininity would barely be able to cope in his presence.

However, you sense you're the only one who doesn't fall for his 'charms' since everyone else seems to fawn over him whenever he appeared. Of course, you had to be the one who would in be betrothed to him in the end.

You had simply had enough.

As it was, you weren't a fan of your life before the marriage had been finalised. You weren't suited to the position of a queen nor did you want to follow that lifestyle. All that you wanted was the opportunity to be free.

What could be any better than making a plan to run away?

This was probably the fifth ball you had attended this month; you weren't sure why they had them so much, because they all had the same step-by-step procedure as if it was some form of experiment.

You would watch as your parents made their way around, greeting the same people, the same way, as if they hadn't seen each other a week ago. It was comedy-worthy how absolutely fake every single person here had been.

Within minutes of being there, you had already made your way over to the buffet table where your only friend, Julia, had been encouraged (practically scolded by your mother) to stand.

Her mother had been your babysitter as a child since it was rare your parents would find the time to actually spend any moments with you. Julia was the same age, so had grew up alongside you. It was interesting how opposite both of your lives had turned out to be despite being brought up by the same person, just with different blood.

"God, this is just as boring as I'd imagine it to be. Look at them all, it's like a food chain. I'm shocked nobody had cracked yet." You stand next to her, avoiding the gaze of everybody else in the room as you usually would.

"You shouldn't speak that way, you never know who is listening in." Julia had always been nervous when it came to your public conversation, considering she'd likely receive more of a punishment then you would, however, she leans into you more, "I would have to agree though. I could not point out a singular person who genuinely looks interested in their conversation."

"I mean, look at that herd of girls over there. They've been squawking with each other all evening, but I definitely saw Emily pointing fingers at Destiny last week." You nod your head towards the group that stood near the entrance, all chatting with one another as if they wouldn't talk behind each other's backs any other time of day.

Your eyes shift along, expecting to find another group of people to roll your eyes at, instead encountering quite a surprise. There's a servant that you don't quite recognise; brown shaggy hair, the same familiar white uniform that appears to be loose fitting, but seems to still look just right.

Surely, you think, you would have remembered someone like him.

"Julia, do you recognise him? I'm not quite sure he's ever been here before." You ask, she looks in your direction with furrowed brows as she takes in the man that you're looking at. She squints her eyes, thinking, then shakes her head.

He hadn't done anything to imply he was up to something suspicious, but you had a strange feeling about him. Feeling entranced by him, you try to think of a normal excuse so that you could speak with him — but your parents get to you first.

"Darling! Where have you been? We have been looking for you everywhere!" She beams at you, rather fabricated considering her eyes seem to be filled with annoyance since you had been staying distant from her the entire ball.

Unfortunately for you, Beomgyu slides into the conversation with his horrifically flirtatious smile that only forms disgust in your mind. He takes your hand, placing a kiss on it; Julia stifles a laugh when you side-eye her.

"It's nice to see you again, my love." He smirks at you, your mother almost clapping her hands in excitement as she watches, "Care to dance?"

Your mind searches for any excuse to refuse his offer, but your mother's fiery gaze barely gives you the option to think. You hate to be like everyone else in the room, but you give your best smile and place your hand into his.

Considering this would be your last time making your mother happy, you may as well allow it to happen.

The moment you reach your bedroom, you fall into your bed with a long groan. To be expected, the dress and makeup had taken at least an hour to remove, reaching almost one AM by the time you were in your chamber.

Minutes later, Julia wanders in her room for her 'nightly duties' — gossiping with you after a exhausting day. She conforms to you, jumping on your bed as you had.

"You look worn out- well, I'm not surprised after that." When she says that, you know she's referring to the excruciating dance that you had the dishonour (to yourself) of taking part in, "How was that enchanting dance?"

"I'm not sure if he was nervous or it was just natural, but his hands were incredibly sweaty! Normally I wouldn't judge, but surely you wouldn't hold someone's hand for that long when they're practically slipping off." Julia bursts into laughter at your response, tears spilling from her eyes.

You're going to miss Julia. In honesty, she was the only person that could keep you here and you wish you could take her with you. It would be too dangerous and risky, so you would have to give her the best.

"Julia... I was hoping you could help me with something." You take your bottom lip between your teeth and she looks at you expectingly, eyes boring into yours, "I'm really not sure how you will take this thought of mine, but it's truly what I think will be the best. I want to leave, and go far way."

Her mouth opens, no words to be spoken but it is clear she has many things to say.

"I know I should have mentioned my feelings to you earlier, and I am sorry for my selfishness. This is something I need, and I want your help, if you could." You look at her with hope, praying that there was something that she could do for you.

She sighs.

"I know a way that you'll be able to leave, quite easily." She states, she watches as your eyes light up and you become more absorbed in the conversation, "I know that they don't allow you to go into the basement of the castle. It's because there's a passageway through and door that leads through to the outside. It hasn't been used in many years."

In your mind, you recall every time someone had tensed up or began stuttering over their words whenever you got too close to that basement door. It was as if they knew that you had been planning to do something drastic, such as running away.

"How on earth would I get there if they're so cautious about me going in? It doesn't sound too wise." You sit up from your previous position, walking over to your wooden desk to take a seat. Allowing your head to fall into your hands, you question whether this was possible.

"Well... At particular times of the day, the guards leave their stations. Usually during your late dinners, actually- and around 4AM in the morning when they begin preparing for you to awake. If you can get out of the diner tonight, I'll show you." She whispers under her breath at you, just in case anyone had been deciding to listen in at the wrong time.

You have never hugged someone as tightly as you had with Julia. Within minutes, you had gone from having zero idea of how to get to your own paradise to having a knight in shining armour that so happened to be your best friend.

The dinners with your family were the worst part of being a royal; you had to spend an extended amount of time with them. Despite being your blood, they never felt like they were. Realistically, they likely didn't care for you that much, you were created for an alliance.

Even if it hadn't been explicitly stated, there was no doubts that it was the reality.

If you had to admit anything, the dining hall was gorgeous. The walls are as tall as can be, painted portraits and landscapes scattering every wall. Candles are sporadically placed around the room, as well as in the large hanging chandelier.

However, the gigantic table in the centre just made the dinners much more awkward.

"I see you talked with Prince Beomgyu at the last ball. I'm glad the two of you are getting along well." Your father speaks up for the first time during your dinner and to no surprise, it's involving mentions of your 'future' marriage partner.

"Barely..." You mumble under your breath, just loud enough for them to be able to hear, but low enough that they were unable to tell it was intentional.

You needed a reason to be able to leave, since they would never allow you to go to your room when you wanted to. On many occasions, you remember how whenever you argued or became upset, they would just let you to leave so they would't have to acknowledge the needed confrontation.

"Why can't you just be kind to him? He has done nothing but treat you right and you have hardly said one word to him." Your mother places her cutlery down and glares at you, as if you were someone she had become enemies with.

Just one more day.

"Me and all the other women he has been trying to court. I'm going to bed, I'm not hungry anymore." You retort back, standing up and storming your way out of the room. As expected, they don't follow you or say a word.

Quickly, you walk back to your room to see Julia already waiting inside for you, "We have to move fast. We have enough time but I'd rather we get in and out so we don't get caught, if all goes well, you could get out tonight." Julia grins with mixed emotion; ecstatic you're finally getting what you deserve, upset that she'll likely never see you again.

"I don't think I could ever thank you enough, I love you, Julia." You want to give her another tight hug, but there is not enough time in the day. Instead, she pulls you along to take you to the sacred basement floor.

Your heart thumps harshly in your chest as you stand in front of the door. Julia pushes it open slowly to avoid loud creaks and squeaks.

As slow as you can, you walk down the stone stairs that lead down to the basement. It is barely lit, just bright enough to be able to see where you are placing your feet on the stairs. Eventually, you reach a dingy room that is filled with miscellaneous items.

"I... don't see a door anywhere." Your eyebrows furrow as you walk around the room, squinting through the darkness in order to try and find this supposed door. In fact, you don't think you can see any other way out of the basement apart from the door you had entered from.

"It's hidden for a reason, look here." Julia remarks, you turn around to look at where she is standing. She taps her foot onto a particular area of the floor, which appears to sound more hollow than the rest of it.

The floor isn't easy to see, so you get onto your knees in order to touch around, feeling how the stone flooring feels like wood instead. With a large grin, you stand up and hug Julia one last time.

"You go back to your room now so that they don't see you down here, I can think of an excuse for myself if anything happens. It's already unlocked and goes straight out." She pulls back, her hand resting on your cheek, "If this is the last I see of you, I appreciate everything you've done for me. You're my closest friend and I hope I'll get to see you again in the future, much happier than you are now."

When your eyes begin to fill with water, you make your way back up the stairs and towards your bedroom and attempting to look as innocent as possible. Patiently, you watch the hours on the clock go by.

You begin to feel like the moment isn't real; not when it reaches 3AM and your hands are shaking against your door handle. The large door feels more intimidating than usual, as if it had started to grow along with your draining anxiety throughout the waiting process.

Hastily, you move through the many corridors without giving another thought because you may just second guess yourself and decide this was not your smartest idea.

As Julia has reassured you, you didn't bump into any of the royal guards — you realise they aren't the greatest, since they appeared to be nowhere in sight. You likely could have done this months ago when you began considering the idea.

This is the quietest you had ever heard the expanse of the castle to be, if it had been this way all the time, you would have liked it more. Instead, you were stuck with the family talking your ears off every second like nails on a chalk board.

You reach the basement, feeling around on the floor until you find the door again. A proud smile appears on your face when you feel the handle, though as you're pulling it up, someone or something on the other side seems to be opening it too.

"Huh?" You gasp out, almost flinging backwards when the door opens at lightening speed, revealing a very familiar face, "It's you!"

You remember him perfectly, his face was hard to forget. Opposed to his clean appearance when you had seen him at the ball, he looks muckier and he definitely wasn't wearing royal attire this time.

"Who the hell are you?" His expression displays confusion and his voice is almost aggressive, as if he isn't the one coming in from the outside; despite the tone, the thick accent that is diversely different from your own sticks out to you clearly. No one in the area sounded as he did.

"Me? Why on earth are you sneaking into the castle? Do you have a death wish?" You whisper-shout at him, mirroring his distress towards you. He doesn't respond, looking just as baffled as you are, "How long have you been doing this for? God, the security here is dreadful."

Suspecting you had been too loud because the man before you interrupted the original plan, as you had likely done to him, the sound of feet thundering above you caused your stomach to drop and your body to freeze up.

"Shit, shit, shit!" His eyes widen and he examines the room, biting his bottom lip when he can't think of anything. He sighs and puts his attention back on you, "Whatever you're doing, make your decision now or you're dead meat. You're lucky I'm in a good mood today."

He holds his hand out towards you, urging you to take it so he can help you down into the pathways below you. After a mere thought of going back and the sound of banging on the basement door, you close your eyes and take his hand into yours.

The path becomes a blur the faster he pulls you through, but you feel a weight lift of your shoulders the further you are away from that door. Finally, you feel the cold breeze of the outside, a simple experience that you had not truly felt in many months.

You don't think you could explain to another human how incredible you felt in the moment, and with the adrenaline pumping through your body you couldn't feel any better.

Eventually, your running comes to a halt when you're dragged into a run-down cottage hidden behind moss, grown out leaves and grass. It's nothing, minuscule, compared to your old home, but you like it.

Funnily, you had almost forgotten about the man who had saved your skin, now panting with his hands on his knees. He stands straight after a minute or so, looking you in your eyes that are as wide as a deers in front of headlights.

"This, uh, this isn't where I live. I just come here when I finish up my business, which you impolitely interrupted. You want to tell me what you were doing? You seemed pretty desperate to get out of there." He walks over to a desk next to the bed, which was on the verge of falling apart, and pulls out a handkerchief from the open draw.

Even though his own face was covered in dirt and sweat, he makes his way over to you and dabs away at whatever had made its way onto yours. Then, he shoves it into his back pocket before stepping back from you.

"I'd much rather know your name first. You know, you don't make yourself appear very trustworthy being so sneaky." You fold your arms over each other, giving him an accusatory look. In return, he just laughs and you look away so you wouldn't feel hypnotised by his smile.

"You're very feisty. I'm Jake, Jaeyun, whatever you want to call me. Now, you." Now knowing his name, you think that it fits him flawlessly; you wouldn't attach any other name to his pretty face.  There is a chair next to the desk which he pulls out to take a seat on, pointing his hand out towards the bed.

You noticed he had a habit of using gestures instead of his words.

"Well Jake, it's nice to meet you." The bed isn't comfy at all, but you know you should appreciate there is even one in front of you in the first place, "I needed to leave, my parents didn't really put me in the best situation, so I took it upon myself to get out of it before it was too late."

"Well, shit. You're the princess aren't you? You're worth a lot of money, you know." When you don't laugh, eyes somehow becoming even wider than they were previously, he shakes his head while he stands to place a hand on your shoulder, "I'm joking, don't look so terrified. The bed won't be up to your standards, but you're free to sleep and we'll figure something out for you in the morning."

"What about you? Mustn't you sleep?" You question, you still feel uncomfortable sitting on the bed, not wanting to attempt to sleep while he is wide awake near you. Not that you didn't trust him, but it only made you feel more awkward.

"I'll be okay. Don't worry, I'm not going to chuck you out while you're sleeping, you can breathe. And don't be so tense, you can trust me, princess." He grins at you, the light from the lantern made him look ethereal, though your heart still beats fast with conflicted feelings.

The conversation ends there, he turns the chair around the face the desk which was opposite the bed. You aren't sure what he is doing, but you feel better with him looking away. Hesitatingly, you find yourself falling into a light sleep, being awoken by the slightest noise.

You don't sleep very well that night.

The pain in your back is hard to ignore, you aren't so used to having such a springy and old bed. For a second, you expect to see Julia opening up the door to your chamber, but you are instead met with Jake walking back through the rusty door.

"Good morning, princess. I brought you some new clothing back, I imagine that cute nightgown of yours isn't so comfortable for the day." Jake holds up some clothing, what your parents would refer to as 'peasant attire'. You can feel your cheeks heat up since you had forgotten you had left wearing your nightgown in a rush.

"Thank you... for the- for the fresh clothing. I appreciate your kindness." Happily, you take the clothing from his hands. They're warm, as if they had been laid in front of a fireplace for a few hours. The new feeling of warmth after having to be used to the cruel, cold cottage brings you joy.

"No worries, sweetheart. I have a proposition for you when you're ready." You reply silently to him, with a nod of the head, then leave to go into what appears to be a bathroom.

In the mirror, you see what the last day had done to you. There's only specs of dirt left on your face, you imagine it had been significantly worse before Jake had cleared it away. Bags under your eyes show clear, causing you to let out a long sigh.

Having to get used to no longer being pampered and cared for anymore was looking harder than you anticipated. You had barely considered the cons of your actions. After a few moments of processing the past day and making yourself appear more presentable, you leave the bathroom to see Jake waiting for you, reading a book.

"I can take you somewhere that's alot safer than here. It's probably not what you want at the moment, but it's probably the best you're going to get for now." Jake places the book down and diverts his eyes to you. His eyes rack over your body, not in a sexual manner, just to examine the fitting of the clothing.

"Could you tell me what you meant by 'business'? I haven't associated myself with those people for a long time, so I won't get you into any trouble. I don't mean to intrude, but you practically know my story." Anxiously, your hands clasp in front of you and you can't bring yourself to look at him in the eyes yet.

"Well, I guess I'll trust you. Me and my family aren't very well off, if you couldn't tell. It's not east to get jobs, and even the boys who do have jobs barely get a penny." He sighs, you begin to feel bad for asking, "Surprisingly, assigned waiters and waitresses get paid enough for us to afford what we need and I'm nimble enough to get in there and fake the job. I wouldn't have done it without Julia."

Your brain short-circuits and your head shoots up to look at Jake. Confused, he looks between you and the wall at the sudden change in body language, waiting for you to speak.

"Julia? You know Julia? We were close and she never mentioned you, she even acted like she didn't know you when I asked. Did she not trust me?" Your eyebrows furrow as you start to question yourself, and everything that you had experienced.

Jake only grins at your concern and shakes his head in disagreement.

"She was always so cautious, I did tell her not to bring this up, I'm sure she was worried of others listening. She helped me- alot. Wouldn't have done any of this without her.” He reassures you, the two of you decide to end this particular conversation there.

Thinking back to his proposition, you collect whatever you have left of your belongings and place them into a straw bag which had been placed next to the bed. Jake nods towards the door with a barely noticeable smile.

The door opens and you wince at the sun burning into your eyes. It radiates through your skin when you take your first step outside. Your hands grip harder onto the bag as you follow behind Jake to your next stop in your journey.

Neither of you take it upon yourself to start conversations. You don't have a problem with him and he has no issues with you, but it's obvious that there was a silent agreement that you would try and help each other and part ways.

At least that was how you had taken the last few hours. This was a new, blooming path for you, and you couldn't allow anyone to hold you back. No matter how much you may start to enjoy Jake's company, he had a family he cared deeply for and you had places you wanted to go.

After an hour or two, stopping off for the occasional rest, you encounter another cottage. Larger than the last, and taken care of. Flowers grow all around in bright colours, the brick the cottage is made out of being painted a gorgeous beige and darkened smoke peering out of the chimney.

After being at awe at how beautiful you found the cottage to be, you then see two younger boys tending to a garden filled with various fruits and vegetables. They look up, confused by your presence, but their faces light up once they see Jake.

"Jae, You're back! We were starting to get a little worried about you." They both come running towards Jake, diving into his arms as he hugs them closely to his body. You can't help but smile at the love for each other that beams from them — you almost begin to feel jealous.

"I have a come back rate of 100%, I'm invincible at this point, Won." Jake places light kisses on the top of their heads, and then their attention lands on the elephant in the room, you, "Yeah, uh, this is a recent friend of mine."

Once you give your name to his brothers, they seem to put the puzzle pieces together. The taller ones jaw drops while the other's eyebrows fall into anger.

"Sim Jaeyun what the hell have you gotten yourself into! Heeseung is going to be furious!"

Heeseung was in fact furious.

The eldest had spent about twenty minutes stalking around the cottage's main room rebuking Jake for doing something so impulsive, like allowing the runaway princess to take refuge in their home without speaking with the rest of them.

You almost stood up to leave them alone due to feeling rude and awkward, but Jake and his brother’s Jongseong and Riki were adamant on letting you stay since you had nowhere else to go. Somehow, they convinced the rest of them.

Over the month you had been living with the seven boys, something in your mind had switched. In such a short amount of time, all of them had become prominent figures in your life and it felt like you had been there forever.

One thing that you couldn't push through was the different between how you felt about Jake compared to the rest of his brothers. The touches between you both always lingered longer and you would always notice the way he would watch you while Jungwon taught you how to correctly tend to the garden.

It was a quiet day, most of the boys were tired and taking the hours to rest, most of them sleeping apart from Sunoo who silently read a book at the dining table, and you who had been sowing away to a shirt Sunghoon had accidentally ripped.

The constant silence, apart from the sound of pages turning and the fire crackling, was broken by a loud yawn as Jake opens his bedroom door. Sunoo doesn't spare him a glance, but you look up from your needle and thread to give the man a sweet smile.

"Good morning- well, afternoon, princess." He beams, making his way over to you. Both of his hands lay on either side of your shoulders and it takes everything in you not to tense up at the sudden touch.

"What did I say about calling me princess, Jaeyun?" You murmur, still trying to concentrate on the shirt in front of you. Jake's head is now placed upon yours, and you wonder if he's trying to or is blissfully unaware that he's flustering you to the highest degree.

"That I should stop calling you princess- but it suits you so well! And I think you should keep calling me Jaeyun, I like it." He replies, you roll your eyes and give up with your task. Jake moves away from you, so you turn around in your chair to face him.

"I'll think about it." You smirk at him, he opts to sit next to you and lay his head onto the table as if he had still been tired, "I thought you would be sleeping all day."

"Well... I was wondering if you wanted to take a ride in our sailing boat. I could teach you how to use it. It's too warm for me to sleep." He responds, his head being hidden in his arms consequently leaves you unable to see the pink shade that spreads across his cheeks.

"That would be nice, I've always wanted go ride in a boat- my parents never let me do anything." Finishing up, you finally stand from the chair to stretch your legs, cracking your fingers due to the ache in them.

"You can do anything that you want now. They'll always be looking for you, but we can get you far enough that they won't be able to find you." Jake purses his lips, looking away from you before continuing, "Though you’re always welcome to stay here."

"You know that I can't." You hadn't meant to sound so cold.

Jake becomes more and more despondent every time you reject his offer of staying with him. The others boys had grown fond of you, just as he had, you were safe and free from the sickening hold of your biological family.

Alas, you wanted excitement over tranquility.

The lake behind the house could have been the most perfect sight. Somehow, the water had stayed as clean as it could be, you could see the bottom of the shallow areas. What you liked the most was the natural decoration of trees and flowers, moments like this could convince you to stay.

As expected, the boat is still attached to the pier. It was rare they ever used it, often just fishing from the pier itself, but the warm day warranted a little change.

You and Jake walk side by side in a comfortable silence, something the two of you had grew to enjoy. Over years, you had gotten used to constantly being surrounded by noise that the serenity of the cottage on rest days felt strange — you never got rest days.

At first, any kind of silence was uncomfortable, though you hardly realised it had become pleasant.

Jake gets into the boat, holding out his hand to carefully help you in. He leans over to reach for the oars, and you take a seat across from him, "How am I supposed to teach you from all the way over there?"

"Where else am I supposed to go?" You raise an eyebrow at him. He shows off a flirtatious smirk and pats the little area that is left in front of him.

Jake did a brilliant job at making you frantic; you'd never experienced a relationship such as this, apart from Beomgyu, who you would rather never hear of again.

Slowly, you take your seat in front of him, back pressed snugly against his warm chest.

"Hold tight, I'll hold my hands over yours and show you how to do it properly." The two of you seem to be holding hands a lot lately. He tries to hold your hands as daintily as he could to ensure his tight grip wouldn't hurt you, and begins to row, "You're a natural."

"I guess I'm simply just good at everything." You joke, and you finally let the stiffness in your body go, moving with your thoughts to distract yourself, "I wonder how Julia is doing... I feel awful for having to leave her."

You had worried for Julia every single day. There had been no news, at least not that the boys had heard of yet; by now, you expected a large-scale search where guards and soldier would be loitering around every corner, but not one had been seen in the area. You wondered if she was safe.

"You had no choice. I'll always wish her the best, she really did everything she could for me, for us. We had a real hard time last year." He replies, staring off into the distance as he continues to row the boat, you're barely putting in any effort.

"If you don't mind me asking, what happened? Whenever it seems to come in to conversation, everyone gets quiet and moves on." You ask, almost hesitantly.

Parts of you disliked that you allowed your curiosity to get the best of you. It wasn't your business, and a topic they had been evading conversation about since it happened. Though you cared about them, and want to take care of them.

"We were really struggling, the worst it had been. It was like everything that could go wrong, was going wrong. We had no food and we were freezing. There was a lot of pressure on all of us, and I guess Hoon just couldn't take it anymore. I had to jump in to pull him out of the water and I can still remember how hard he had sobbed in my arms."

"Oh Jake, I'm so sorry. None of you deserved that kind of life, you're all so loving and kind. I'm glad you all had each other, I can't imagine what you've been through." At some point, you had moved to turn your body around to face him. You had never been so close to his face before, yet it felt so familiar.

"Without Julia I'm not sure we'd still be here, so fucking up the system was our best choice. I guess I would never have met you either if I never went through with it- and I sure would have regretted that." He grins, and you can't help but return it.

"All of you are so strong, you're amazing, Jaeyun." You remind him, and hope this will be something he and his brothers will always know.

There are continuous shifts in the air whenever you are left together, as if every moment brings you so much closer, but formed a theory that there wasn't a moment where you hadn't known Jake Sim, like he was everlasting in your life.

It’s cut short when Riki comes running down from the cottage, almost tripping over his own feet. His face isn't entirely visible from the length away, but your stomach drops as you sense something is wrong. Just minutes ago, he was fast asleep.

As fast as possible, Jake rows himself back to the pier where Riki is stood, taking deep breaths. He appears bothered by something, and his concerned attention seems to be on you the whole time.

"You guys- you're going to end up in big trouble. Jesus, some guards just turned up at the door, pretty much just as you reached the pier. They didn't recognise you from so far away, we told them that you were going far out and couldn't come back, but they said they'll come back later to talk to you."

You are so, so scared; you can feel your body begin to shake as what you had been anticipating finally happens. It had been so long, that you had started to consider the idea that they swiftly moved on from you. Unfortunately, it could never be so easy.

It didn't take long for you to start sobbing, the original feeling of shock and fear subsiding into anxiety and sadness. Jay has you wrapped in his arms as you shake, everyone has seated themselves down apart from Jake, who aggressively wanders around the room.

"Jaeyun, stand still. You're just making her feel even worse shuffling around the room like that." Heeseung glares at his younger brother, standing up from his seat to walk towards him.

"Yeah? Well what else am I supposed to do? I don't know what the fuck to do!" Jake shouts, not so loud, yet it still makes you jump enough that Jay holds you ever so slightly tighter. Looking over, Jake and Heeseung are standing face to face.

"Stop shouting at me and get your goddamn act together, she needs us, she needs you. You want to help her? Then we need to talk and figure out where we go from here." Heeseung snarls at Jake, who lets out a frustrated groan and nods his head.

This was the first time you had seen them truly upset with each other. It's due to one of your own problems too, which makes you feel entirely responsible even if you hadn't intended to.

"I have to leave."

All of their eyes divert to your direction, even Jay draws back from you a little. They all share the same expression, one you can't quite read in detail, but they are shocked by your statement.

"What? No, no, where on earth would you go? We can figure this out. Don't go until you're ready to move on." Sunghoon states, his thick eyebrows beginning to furrow in concern.

"If I'm not gone by the time they get back, I'm not sure what they would do to you all if they knew I was here. I could never put you all at risky like that- and I would dread to think about the things they would do to me too."

"Are you sure?" Jungwon mumbles begrudgingly, frowning at the thought of you leaving them all. He had grown closest to you, other than Jake, and even though he would never admit it to anyone, he had grown rather attached to your presence.

Simply, you nod your head and hold your bottom lip between your teeth to attempt to avoid any more tears. Sunghoon was right to make a comment on you being ready, because you were far from so.

"I'll come with you." Jake's voice causes you to look at him again, eyes wide and lost. He appears so sure of himself, "I'll get you somewhere far enough that's safe. I can't stay with you, but I can offer as much help as possible. None of us want you out alone."

After a serious talk, heartbreaking goodbyes and reassurance that you will always have a place to be, you and Jake are on your way. He reminds you of another cottage not so long away that the two of you can stop at for the night, similarly to when you had first met.

Jake had been carrying a leather, worn-down rucksack that was filled with miscellaneous items that would keep you going and had been profusely refusing your offers to carry it for a little to give him a break.

There's a constant guilt riding through your body with every moment, and Jake is able to tell, he seems to know you well enough now. He spends his time telling you stories of his youth, his current years, his brothers; beautiful moments to tell you that this is momentary, and all will be well soon enough.

An hour or two walk leads you to the cottage, and it's far from pretty. In fact, you think some of the roof is missing and some of the windows are smashed up. Not the ideal place to stay, but it'll work for now.

"Here, take this, you're freezing." He offers up his jacket, more so forcing it into your hands. He's cold too, but he'd rather be the one to get sick.

"Why are there so many abandoned cottages around here? It's such a waste..." You question after sitting down at a wooden desk chair, your legs recovering from the long walk.

"People like to move around, they'll just up and leave, go to the next town or whatever it is they're doing. Their old homes just get forgotten about, I guess." He shrugs, he's used to them being around, while you were thinking about how lovely it would be to renovate.

It wasn't difficult for you to fall asleep, so exhausted that all it took was closing your eyes.

You never had nightmares; not until tonight.

Everyone you had come to know was there, complaining about how you were an awful friend, daughter, partner, princess. Hearing sharp words from your family was something you had become desensitised to, but Julia and Jake broke your heart.

Jake sees you shuffling in your sleep, making small noises, a concerned expression across your face. He pouts from where he sits, gathering that you were having a bad dream.

Quietly, he makes his way over to you and sits on the opposite side of the bed. He finds himself studying your sleepy face, you were always bright and ignoring a few minor occasions, he never really saw you upset.

He leans forward and pushes a strand of hair behind your ear, he ponders whether he should wake you up, but you're faster than him, shooting up as you frantically look around the room.

"Hey, woah! Breathe princess, you're okay, you're safe." Jake speaks so softly that the tension in your body dissipates immediately, your hand wraps around his for additional comfort and you look him in the eyes.

It feels right.

Jake's free hand moved upwards to rest on your cheek, you nuzzle into his hand happily and close your eyes. A few seconds pass, you decide to look back at Jake, who you hope is feeling just as you do.

When his thumb faintly rubs against your bottom lip, it was as if the subconscious block that had been holding you back snaps. Neither of you are sure who leaned in first, but it didn't matter.

His lips slot perfectly on yours; just like his hands, his arms, every fibre of his being. You feel slightly hesitant due to your lack in experience, though the softness of how Jake holds you tells you everything will be just fine.

He caresses your waist line as his tongue slips into your mouth, and you're sure you could kiss Jake's lips forever. In comparison, you’re gripping onto Jake for dear life, taking an awfully deep breath when you part from each other.

“I’m always going to keep you safe, you and the boys, you are my life. I’ll protect you even if it kills me.” He whispers against your lips, and a stray tear slips down your cheek as you both stay with each other, forgetting about your problems just for a moment.

You hadn't been to another town before since you were a small child, being isolated away from others for such a long time. It's so lively and full of happy people, it makes you think about how quiet it had been at your old home as everyone in town had generally kept to themselves.

"Anywhere you want to go?" Jake asks, his hand still gripping yours tightly. Neither of you decided to mention the previous night, but you both have refused to let go of each other since you fell asleep, and Jake was feeling nauseated at the thought of you getting lost.

You had to admit to being anxious; there was always the chance that someone would recognise you even if they hadn't seen you since you were much younger. Not everyone was a good person, you would end up back at square one.

"I think I'd like to go to the lake, the old lady in the bakery really sold it for me." You hold up the bag that was filled with bread and sweet treats (you had to convince Jake not to steal any of them because the lady was so kind and you had enough money), "It's getting a little late, so I wouldn't mind going to the lake for a little while and then going to the inn."

The sky is filled with vibrant variations of pinks, oranges and yellows as the sun begins to set. It shines beautifully onto the lake as you and Jake walk along the path, content as you both munch on bread and laugh with each other.

Time passes so fast that you don't even realise how long you have been wandering around for, the dark skies soon tiring you out. Your eyes feel heavy, so you suggest going to the inn.

"You are a lovely couple, how long have you been together?" The woman behind the counter asks, grinning at your closeness as she takes the money from Jake's hands.

"Our whole lives, miss." Jake says, as if it has been a normal everyday saying. Of course, you become embarrassed and hide behind Jake's arm and the elderly woman coos at you as she passes along the key.

The air feels strange once you and Jake are laid in the bed together. Even though you are so far apart from one another, it's like the heat of his body is still reflecting onto yours. Whatever you feel in your body, you know it is unfamiliar to you.

You bite your bottom lip in hesitance. Taking a deep breath, you turn around to face Jake. To your surprise, he had already been facing you with his eyes open, watching you.

"You can't sleep either?" He asks, his voice becoming raspy from the lack of speaking. Even though the room is so dark, he manages to look just as gorgeous as usual, even with such tired eyes.

"I'm thinking." You reply quietly, Jake nudges further so that he is closer to you.

"What are you thinking about?" He takes his hand, moving a stray hair behind your ear, hand now resting softly on your cheek.

When you don't answer, Jake's hand is quick to travel to the back of your head as he slams his own lips against yours. Your own hand makes its way into his hair, tugging lightly as your body shakes in anticipation when he lets out a low groan against you.

You clamber onto his lap, wanting to feel as close to him as was humanly possible. The emotions and hormones running through your body became so overwhelming that you could only let out whiny whimpers on his mouth.

His hand moves between your thighs, playing with your little clit in excitement, allowing you to grind against his veiny hand. He messes with you through your underwear, soon moving it to the side with a long groan. A long string of saliva links the two of you, Jake's jaw dropping as he looks at you.

"Didn't take you long to get so wet, you wanted me for that long, honey?" His voice drops octaves, his irises filled with a concept you could hardly comprehend; but you have never felt so much pleasure, "Can't believe I waited this long to see how pretty you look withering on top of me."

"Jake!" You grip at his arm, nails practically digging into his skin, hips moving faster and faster as you feel the intense butterflies in your stomach. Tears brim your eyes as you experience the new feeling, almost bursting as your slick covers Jake's hand.

He can barely take in the situation himself. He's hardly done anything and your eyes are already welling up and he just knows drool is going to start dripping from your swollen lips soon enough. Jake pulls his fingers out of you and licks them clean.

"Off, too hot. Yours too." You start to pull at Jake's shirt, he rips your nightgown from your body, leaving you with the thin material of your underwear. Before you could think, his arm wrapped around your back to pull you into him, taking your left breast into his mouth.

His other hand reaches to wrap perfectly around the other, harshly nipping to get a squeal out of you, he slots himself comfortably between your legs, pressing you against his hardening cock. The man underneath you bites his lip hard, lifting up his hips into your core.

"Fuck, fuck baby, just like that." His eyes and hands are still concentrated on your chest, completely hypnotised by their feel and appearance. Jake is absolutely enamoured, and you're already cock-drunk before he's even gotten inside of you.

But it still just isn't enough.

When you lift yourself up and reach down to palm his length through his pants, Jake is sure his eyes roll to the back of his head. He could feel

the fire emits from you, from inside you, from every touch you gifted to his body. You're so desperate, and he's ready to give you anything you desire.

"Can I..." You whimper out, reaching over to the low waistband of his pants. Looking at your face, Jake doesn't want to rip his eyes away. Your own eyes are blown out and your pretty skin is begin to sweat, your hair managing to fall flawlessly in place like you weren't jumping his bones.

"You can do anything you want to me, baby. I'm all yours." He whispers into your ear, nibbling slightly at the lobe. Swiftly, you finally pull at his pants and he lifts up so that you can remove them completely.

It stands tall, wet and red, you can't help but wrap your hands around it. However, not wanting to make a mistake, you give him your best doe eyes to ask for help.

"It's okay, princess. Just move your hand up and down, just like that- fuck." You move your hand up and down slowly, keeping eye contact with Jake, whose eyes are beginning to close from the building pleasure, "Such a good girl f’me.”

Suddenly, you're sliding yourself down his body, your face against his chest as your back arches deliciously. Your tongue lands directly on the slit of his tip, Jake moans loudly and grips onto your hair.

He tried his best not to buck his hips upwards, though he gets even more turned on at your inherent skill to take him in your mouth with ease, the tiny tears in your eyes only make him even more feral.

Your smaller hands are moving nicely on his cock along with your gummy mouth and just the sight of you has him on the edge; a lethal combination. Not wanting to let go just yet, he gently lifts you from him with a dazed smile at your sudden concerned face.

"It's okay, baby- you're doing so, so well for me. Just want us to be able to cum at the same time, hm?" He's quick to model you into the position he wants, you on your back facing him, legs over his shoulders so he can see your fucked out, cute face, “Tell me when you want me to move, okay?”

Then, he pushes himself into you.

You expected it to sting at first, your nails digging and scratching against Jake who just takes it. He waits, albeit the ache he feels in his stomach, until you give him the green light to start moving.

"Go, please." You squeak out, and he does as his lady requests. Still hurting ever so slightly, but with every move comes a larger wave of pleasure. He's almost sure he'll have to slap a hand over your mouth or kiss you so you don't get kicked out, "Oh my god!"

"So fucking tight. My pretty girl, all this for me." Jake stutters out against your neck, sucking at it while your hand rummage around his body, his hair, dragging your nails against his back as he ravages you.

Embarrassment fills you as Jake examines your face and body below him. You try to turn your head, but he immediately raises his hand to grab you by the chin and force you to look back, then his hand makes its way right around your throat in a light choke, "Look at me, honey."

It’s such an intimate moment, both of you finally together as one, only seeing each other and nothing else in the world. He’s holding your cheek while his other hand wraps around your throat and you’re all other the place.

You reach your peak, convulsing so hard and desperate. Jake’s eyebrows furrow harder, hips faltering as he climaxes too, you feel the spurts fill you to the brim, close to bringing another orgasm out of you.

Ears ringing, he lies on top of you though trying his best not to put all of his weight down on your current fragile body. He strokes the top of your head, and you ask him to stay inside of you until you fall asleep.

The alarm of the bright sun shining through the sheer white curtains has you waking up as soon as it hits your skin. You grab the sheets and hike them up your body, still naked after immediately passing out last night. However, it seems like Jake had cleaned you up before you awoke, no longer covered in sweat and cum.

Eyes closing again, you turn your body around and feel onto the other side of the bed for your lover, but only gripping onto empty sheets. You furrow your eyebrows and pout your lips, sitting up and looking around the room.

There is light sparkling from the gap under the bathroom door, you make the assumption he mist be in there, "Jaeyun? Are you in the bathroom?"

After a second or two, the door opens and there stands a half naked Jake, his lean torso and shoulders on full display for you. He grins as his eyes scan down your bare body, spending significantly more time on your tits.

"Now what a lovely sight this is first thing in the morning." He laughs, pressing soft kisses along the dark splotches on your neck. You roll your eyes with a smile, pushing him away a little so you could pick up your day clothing to get changed, "You could just stay like that for a few more hours, I'm not complaining."

"You're suddenly so perverted, have you been hiding this from me the whole time?" You ask jokingly, leaning against the doorway in all your naked glory. He looks at you like he has never seen anything as perfect, how he just can’t look away from you; the glint in them somehow tells you that it isn’t just lust in his eyes.

He doesn’t answer, shaking his head with a bite of his lip. Closing the bathroom door, you look at yourself in the mirror while you change, noticing the new glow in your skin — you’re sure there is a myriad of reasons why.

There’s a knock on the door to the room. strange, you think, but you imagine it may be someone complaining about the loud noises and squeaks throughout the night, so you finish putting your shirt on.

As your hand lands on the handle, Jake shouts.

“Get your fucking hands off me! She isn’t in here you, assholes! Who the fuck do you think you are?!” He’s angry at whoever was at the door, the mention of a she makes you shake and back away from the door.

You search for a window, anywhere that could get you out — but the thought of leaving Jake out there broke your heart and you would rather get hurt helping him than leaving all alone.

Before you can even come down to a decision between your two options, the bathroom door bursts open, wooden panels and metal flying around the room. You could recognise the clanky soldier attire of your family anywhere, them staring you down with violent glares.

Having nowhere to go, Jake nowhere in sight, your only option is to follow their instructions.

Standing before your parents, hands handcuffed behind your back, may have been the strangest occurrence you had the glory of experiencing in your life. Their angry faces dawned on you that you had royally fucked up and should have thought about being more sneaky instead of trying to live out your romance dreams.

"You are a disgrace to this family." Your mother spits at you, staring right into your eyes with pure disgust, no remorse for what she had done to you your whole life.

"I'm the disgrace? You tried to force your only daughter into a whole marriage with a man she couldn't stand to be around. You never cared about me, I'm only here to carry on your shitty legacy." You watch as your father's lips press into a thin line at your words, his hands rub at the bridge of his nose.

"You're completely delusional. The marriage will go on and that awful man you had stuck yourself to will be hanged for his crimes." His words are like poison venom, your knees bucking in shock.

Jake would be hanged because you had feelings for him, those were the crimes in your family's mind; their biggest fear as they locked you into a marriage destined to be because it was uncontaminated by a non-royal.

"What- no, no, no! Please, please let him go. I'll marry Beomgyu, I'll do anything, just please don't hurt him. He has a family, he did nothing wrong." You beg hard, almost wanting to drop to your knees with praying hands so they would listen to your requests just this singular time.

"We can't let a man of his kind go, they'll simply have to suffer." She dusts off her hands, standing up from her undeserved throne, "Don't think we forgot about how Julia betrayed us too."

"You're all fucking sick, you're sick in the head!" You scream at the top of your lungs, throat burning and your vision becoming unclear as you are dragged away back to your bedroom.

You spend your next few days with puffy eyes, overthinking every moment. It had been the day of your marriage, a day that you would remember forever but for the wrong reasons. Julia and Jake had still been alive since your torturous parents thought it would be a splendid idea for them to watch.

"You look gorgeous, I'm sorry that this day is not going as you desire, I wish this could be much different." Julia's mother had been the woman to adjust your dress. It was easy to see the sadness and distress in her eyes and you could barely imagine how she must be feeling in the moment.

"Thank you. I'm sorry about Julia." You wince as she tightens the corset.

"There isn't much I can do about that anymore. I tried my best, and it only seemed to make things worse." She comes around to your front, smiling so bittersweetly that it hurts you.

No matter how beautiful the reception is, it just appears revolting to you. Especially when you see Beomgyu waiting at the alter for you, everyone smiling at you like you should be happy and Jake and Julia sat right at the front, handcuffed up with guards on either side of them.

Your father holds on to your arm as you walk down the aisle and it makes you want to throw up on the expensive carpet. When you reach the front, you're practically pushed into Beomgyu's arms and the audience, since it's for show, laughs.

You look at Jake and Julia, them both sharing the same facial expression as you had. Seeing Jake in this light broke your heart and if you weren't in such an awful predicament, you would have ran to him.

"Any objections?" The priests asks before he begins and you have to peel your eyes away from Jake who looks like he hasn't slept in days and is on the verge of tears.

"I object!" Everyone's head turns in awe at the disturbance. You have to rub your eyes to make sure you're seeing things correctly because Riki is standing up on top of one of the further back pews, "I think this place has some decoration."

A sizzling sound is heard from the corner of the building; then the whole left side releases a large explosion that causes the building to begin to fall. With no thought, you start to run towards the exit, alerting Jake and Julia to join you, ripping your dress in the process.

Beomgyu latches onto your arm.

"Let go of me. They’re all I have left." You attempt to say sternly, but your voice trembles as you look between him and the exit. This was your last chance and he was trying to take it away from you. You’re struggling to drag yourself away from him- but he just releases you and turns to leave himself.

Jake, Julia and Riki, even Jay who seemed to have appeared out of nowhere, follow suit.

"What the fuck! Where the hell did you get explosives from you psychos!" Jake shouts with an energetic laugh, still running with his hands cuffed — you would have to figure out how to get him out of those once you were all safe.

"I don't know! Sunghoon said he knew some people!" Jay responds, chuckling back at his brother.

You're back at your real home in no time, but you know you'll have to do something about the corrupted royals at some point in time. They could have easily recognised Riki and come back for a less peaceful visit.

"How did you know what was happening?" Julia interrogates the boys, rubbing her wrists to relieve them of the pain from being locked in cuffs for so long.

"They have a weird habit of releasing all information to the public. Heeseung had a feeling that something was wrong and made a visit, luckily was the same day they announced you and had Jake hostage.” Sunoo shrugs, “Sunghoon came back with explosives and still won’t tell us where he got them from.”

"Well, what do we do now?" Jake asks, his arms still holding you protectively. Everyone stays silent, but you know you’ll figure it out together.

Years pass and they never bother you again and you would all laugh that Sunghoon’s mystery explosives must have really made them jump.

Most of the boys had moved on with their lives; Jake found Heeseung and Julia making out in the kitchen one day after a hidden relationship, then the two of them moved out into a new town a little while later to start a family. Jay and Sunghoon found well-paying jobs on travels and would come to visit every moment they could.

The three younger boys stayed back, while you and Jake built up the cottage where you revealed your love for one another to live your own lives.

You smile widely as you examine your growing belly with the new life growing inside of it, Jake watches you lovingly from his desk chair where he writes up his notes for work.

His baby, his pretty girl; you who once stood as royalty lived a simply happy life and Jake finding what he was looking for in the end.

I’d say that deserves a happily ever after.

taglist ; @slutforsjy @jaklvbub @whiskrv @mixtapejimin @zyvlxqht @saintriots @yohanabanana @jentlecoeur @belowbun @meujaeyun @capri-cuntz @greyminyoon1 @river-demon-slayer

[capslocked]

KINKVEMBER DAY: 6

[prompt: blowjob]

male reader x hyeju

12k words

“I mean, don’t you think,” Hyeju says, wagging a finger at you, “that when you suffer through a bad date, the world ought to owe you something?”

"Like what?" you ask.

"Better taste in women - maybe more orgasms; I dunno, a blowjob?" She shrugs. "The general idea is just that someone gets to cum."

You nearly choke on the air in front of you. "Jesus, Hyeju, warn a guy."

“What? I’m trying to commiserate with you,” Hyeju laughs. “Wouldn’t that be funny? Being able to kiss someone who actually, you know, might love you back, and at the same time. Imagine not hooking-up just to forget a shitty day. Sounds wild, right?"

"Utterly deranged."

"So wild."

-

The first time you hook up with your roommate, it’s because of genetics - though not in the weird, uncontrollable way your body gets rigid and sensitive to any pretty girl who wears nothing but a towel moving between her bedroom and the bathroom, or how her eyes might flick fast from your chest up to yours - or given that the absolute shape of her is a blessing from one god or another (benevolent, clearly). That's not why Hyeju and you find yourselves only a few months later grinding on each other after the clock ticked past midnight, making out on New Year's Eve.

No, it has to do with the fact that Hyeju's nearly failing the nine AM section of molecular genetics because she's spent every lecture doodling stars and planets and planets shaped like asscheeks and planet-ass constellations while everyone else writes notes or doom scrolls twitter or whatever and she is somehow simultaneously the only student who never slept with her face on the lab desk or missed an assigned reading and the only one who absolutely needs a tutor.

It's just cosmic odds that you'd be that one: her roommate, who shouldn't be talking so loudly in the library about sex (in a sort of non-sexy, Mendelian kind of way) or be thinking the kind of things you've started thinking when Hyeju wears one of her more sleepshirt-esque long sleeves, her voice getting lower as you rattle off, "fruit flies and thale cress, definitely, it's just an error of fate or chromosome splitting..." before trailing off into a question.

"This is the worst thing that has ever happened to me," she finally tells you. You listen to her sigh into the binding of her textbook, facedown. "I'm really going to bomb this exam."

You tap her hand twice with your highlighter across the desk. "Then you're pretty damn lucky, if you think about it."

She turns to you, smiles a bit. "Okay, point. The worst thing will be having to retake this stupid fucking class."

"Why didn't you ask for help or go to office hours if you knew you were... failing?"

"Maybe because doing anything more than the bare minimum to get through a class I don't care about is my definition of, failing," she mumbles. "Why didn't anyone tell me a single lab is worth half my grade? Or that the TA is this fucking unreliable? How is this the one thing, really, beyond the basics, that can't be taught by wikipedia, a wikihow article and a youtube video?"

You scoot your seat closer to her. "You really need to relax."

"Fucking tell me about it."

You turn it over in your mind a few times, capping the top of your highlighter.

"Want me to get you off?"

And it’s not like you really mean it, when you say it, which is the strangest thing: you wouldn't actually suggest it, normally, wouldn't mention it in passing and then leave yourself open to the follow up and cross examination; yet there it is, after three, four hours of cramming notes on heterochronicity and the sloshing of gametes - you actually did propose it.

Hyeju jerks up, surprised.

"Are you serious?" She looks around, nearly snorting. "In the library?"

The face you’re giving her makes her scoff.

“You’re absolutely nuts.”

You have character flaws; the inability to admit wrongdoing chief among them. Hell, maybe it's from your mother - or maybe all your brains are just scrambled by the fact that Hyeju's sitting there with her pen against her pretty lips, hair glossier than usual as she scans your face and makes your entire body feel like a reactor core in meltdown.

Maybe you can blame what comes next on that.

"I'm always serious. I'm asking a serious question," you whisper, closing the textbook and resting your elbows on top. You look around quickly, like you're sneaking something in instead of this perfectly reasonable exchange, the perfectly platonic - except maybe not so much - way for friends to help each other.

"And I'm wondering what you're asking." Her cheeks are definitely pinker, you think, or the way it fills out her face, from the bottom up, is just that easy to imagine.

“I’m saying you haven’t gotten laid in months.” Here, you realize, these blocks of mental logic that definitely weren’t there when you blurted it out start to coalesce into something solid as you go on.

And you hadn't been wrong when you thought no one had given Hyeju a helping hand in a long, long time: you've heard through the walls or the floorboards at odd hours of the morning that she spends far too long fingering herself to a mind-numbing, tear-worthy frustration that leaves her knuckle-deep but never, ever sated or satisfied.

"No one's around, you'll feel better. You said it yourself."

Not a work of your imagination here - her ears are fucking burning.

"Wait a minute." She pushes her chair back, away from you and your gleaming offer. It clatters on its back legs, and a librarian waves her finger in warning. You wave back, sheepishly, until she stops and Hyeju stands and moves away from the table to talk, hands crossed over her front.

She turns and asks in a hushed-down-voice, "how did you know - did you hear something last night?"

"You couldn't keep it down even if you wanted to, honestly."

Hyeju turns further and throws a glare at the library doors, because obviously her noisiness and their collective noisemanship, or whatever the hell the word is, is clearly the root of the whole goddamn problem.

"Look - if not, no big deal - but I'm just saying you'll probably get over it and at least think less about sex. Or at least the wrong kind of sex."

You expect her to turn, sigh, and ask if you've lost your mind. Expect her to gather her jacket from the back of her chair, take her books and stomp out the room. Or even burst out laughing at the insanity, before slapping your arm lightly, in playful retaliation - anything other than the serious look she gives you in return, tilting her head, pressing her lips.

She turns up at the ceiling for a moment, contemplating something. And it's cute. It's so very, very cute, how her mouth pouts as she considers the possibility, right up until she says, "okay, fine."

The moderate twist of surprise taking hold in your brow must be visible.

"Oh, don't tell me that was all talk. Get me thinking about the right kind of sex or whatever."

You laugh, which has the librarian staring at both of you - until the librarian stops staring and probably sees Hyeju sliding back into her chair, the full, pent-up weight of her concentration pointed your way, knees inching apart - you, and Hyeju waiting, your knee bumping into her inner thigh, leaning closer as the textbook hits the floor.

"Don't laugh."

"Not laughing, seriously. Not laughing," you stammer. “I just think you’re just full of surprises.”

She spreads her knees further and sits taller, looking right at you.

"So then, surprise me," and then presses her cheek to the crook of your elbow.

You slide your chair right into the space next to hers, nuzzling up into the space under her ear. “Keep studying, Hyeju, you’ve got shit to do.” And then you slide your hand beneath the waist of her sweats, knead the swell of her thigh until you find the seam where her leg meets her body, press your palm down on the place just next to her center, your thumb in the middle. All this perfect pressure.

"Fuck," Hyeju says under a shudder. She's breathing heavier when your hot, open-mouthed kisses start landing at her neck, and she probably tries to read her textbook for about forty-five seconds longer. But there's the clench of her jaw right as your middle finger begins tracing circles beneath the fabric of her panties, and her gaze is blurring until she can't tell the difference between an allele or your fucking name.

"Shh-shh," you quiet her, finger tapping harder, playing with the slick wetness beneath all those layers of thick cotton and pressing two fingers there until her knees part like they’re not interested in resisting at all. Your lips press a kiss to the shell of her ear and she tenses all at once, hand shooting up to cover her mouth.

She simply leans back, closes her eyes, and lets you take care of her.

“Okay, you’re right,” she says, shaky and uneven, “that really did take some of the edge off. Did we ever review - poly- uh, pol-polymers here?"

The sweatshirt sleeve falling off your shoulder is a hindrance to any actual reading; her shifting against the chair isn't helping either, but you manage to push down the thoughts of stripping her down completely and giving her your tongue as yet another distraction.

"What did the syllabus say? I don't know if we need to read too far on 'polymers'," you say, having going through an entire afternoon without considering this once, but as you curl your fingers and take an honest crack at cramming the remaining chapters into her head, the knowledge that no one else is getting her this wet - except for whoever she's got in her mind's eye at three AM - is enough to get you feeling a little dizzy.

-

It’s probably supposed to be weird, given that you’ve never gotten any of your other friends off spontaneously in the library, or there's the fact that you can't really avoid each other afterwards, how she shows up in a silk negligee when you're pouring coffee before sunrise to prep for another day and you have the opportunity to notice - yes, she has amazing taste in underwear, yes, you might not have really appreciated her chest and figure enough before - yes, fuck it. She catches you noticing that first time, after coming downstairs with nothing but one of her cropped t-shirts and her board shorts, and she smirks when she realizes you're still thinking about it that afternoon, when her foot grazes yours while you're both washing dishes, and she dries the plate in her hand with a slow swipe.

And it is weird, actually, to describe what’s going on between you in words. 

A few words, anyway, like a one-word label to describe what it was: friends or roommates-with-benefits, or - fuck buddies - god, it's even worse. Fuck buddies? Fuck friends? Something equally terrible and stupid that still makes sense, like something out of a shitty rom-com: it doesn't capture any of the rest of the myriad ways in which things can feel less or less friendly between two people.

So, friends was never, ever going to cut it. Roommates - although technically correct - is just this side of too clinical. And let's be clear: strangers don't wake up every morning together, walk to the same class, sit close together in the middle seats, secretly flick a strangers' skirt up in an empty lecture hall and get on their knees and work your mouth onto her pussy and watch the legs of the desks shake when her feet arch into the floor.

"The notes you've got are better than mine," is how Hyeju tries to put things, the next day and every time after that, standing in the doorframe, or at the foot of your bed and looking every bit the disheveled and hopeless mess you imagine she might spread out over the sheets of her own.

-

It gets complicated, which isn't really a surprise.

"You think your roommate is going to be home tonight?" is the question that comes up multiple times - from a revolving door of pretty names and faces. Hyeju has at least one opinion, if not more, on each of them.

"Tell Jinsoul I say hi," she says once, watching you get ready for a date, and you nearly bang your knee on the edge of the bathroom vanity. 

It's one of the more harmless comments she's offered.

Another, backhanded: "if you’re just looking for a blowjob everyday between lunch and our physics lab, let Hyunjin or Heejin or whatever-her-name-is know she's easily my favorite," Hyeju says on your way out one morning, still under her covers.

Or,

Hyeju's texted a simple "uh, Chuu? really??" when you mention, once, how much fun you've been having - and what kind, as you make a round of self-conscious and rambling phone calls the next day that land you with only one prospect for the night - but your roommate's also no longer being your roommate by the end of it, bouncing against your thighs in the bathtub and moaning something about please more and fuck or fucking make me cum; the details escape you a bit.

That's what friends are for, probably.

Still, in the same, bare-bones explanation, friends also aren't for falling asleep on you - or letting you hold her - or fucking you awake in the middle of the night. Friends aren't for pushing down your jeans when the early-morning dew settles on the back patio, or jerking you off in the seat beside yours with a sweatshirt over your lap when a group project is due later and you all should probably work on that and instead get yourselves off and leave the mess of what you're doing half-finished. Friends aren't, probably, for offering to watch you rub your palm up and down your cock the night before next semester's exams when you can barely sit in a single chair and you can't think about molecular biology or neurochemical transcriptions when your whole body aches to do the transcribing. (If you can catch that drift.)

The lists of who are and are not good enough for you goes on and on - the latter longer than the former.

So, there's Choerry, who according to Hyeju is 'straight up, a total slut'. Yeojin, who gets mistaken for your little sister enough times that Hyeju refuses to - in good faith - let you keep sleeping with her. Both Heejin and Gowon are apparently too pretty for you. "Kim-lip?" she asks, in the middle of peeling garlic, "is that one name or two?" And laughs into a bottle of beer, loud, while you're telling her to quit being nosey and watch her fingers with the damn knife.

"You have a problem."

"Why, because I asked a few simple questions? I think anyone would be a little curious with the -" she pauses to wave her fingers - "I'd be remiss to not be interested in the very drama that unfolds literally across the hall."

She waggles her eyebrows.

You look up at the ceiling. God save you, you think. "Hyeju."

("Seriously," Hyeju chimes in one evening, arms around you, and a mouthful of the dinner you'd cooked.

"You need better taste in girls. Don't waste time on anyone too dumb, or who drinks the milk straight from the carton, or doesn't wash her socks with the same load of laundry. Oh, and - no one who chews loudly. No one who can't tell you're going to cum. The worst is someone who doesn't know what you like, trust me on that. And remember the last rule: don't do anything with someone who eats at a really slow pace, it's incredibly depressing."

You rest your chin on her shoulder from the spot behind her. "Duly noted, oh Master of all Knowledge."

She sighs into your arm, but in the next moment, her voice gets a lot softer, her hips fidgeting slightly against you. "I just mean you're the kind of person people would want to sleep with again," she says, before turning to say your name and kiss you again and again as your bodies curl inward.

"I wonder what that means, Hyeju," you say.

"Fuck," Hyeju groans as you slide further into her, pushing her back into the sofa - hands on her shoulders, legs bent on her either side, "don't tease me like this.")

-

The first snowfall of the year is mild, a tiny dusting, nothing that sticks on the pavement in the alley or on the sidewalks - or the lintels - or in Hyeju's hair, but by evening, when the snow picks up and everything goes quiet, Hyeju has changed into flannels and wool socks in anticipation, curled up like a cat at one edge of the window ledge as the world begins to go white. It's enough that you even pull on a thicker sweatshirt, open up a book, and join her.

She turns toward you, quiet.

You've reached a point in the semester where this, the silence, doesn't unsettle you anymore. It's the space you fill up with time in-between, where you can see the contours of her body against the orange lamplight of the space heater, or watch her kick off the top half of the duvet at night as you fight over space in her bed and wonder about the bare skin peeking out from her shorts.

"Feeling bored?" She slides her foot a little closer to yours, almost imperceptibly. "Am I keeping you entertained enough?"

Her lips pull up at the corner. You chuckle.

"Oh, no."

She scoffs and puts her hands on her knees, pushes herself closer to the window sill and bumps her elbow into your shoulder. The bare skin of her neck and shoulders and face is getting a little redder as she cranes it forward. "Okay, if not, do you need someone to entertain you, maybe."

Your mouth twists, fighting a smile.

Hyeju is so close to you, you could kiss her really, really easily and not care how she'd feel about that. It's not a habit, not as often as it used to be, but every once and a while - she starts this game. Every once in a while, Hyeju just starts smiling like that, and leans into you like she's daring you to play along, hard round of chicken until it's clear what the two of you are doing with each other; the minutes pass by, one, then two, and then - maybe she pushes first, her leg on yours, or a kiss to your jaw or a palm on your back as she walks behind you - and then you'd turn and kiss her full on the mouth and pull at her clothes like nothing's holding you back.

She cocks a smile, and says, "why don't you go and call what's her name."

"Because."

You glance out at the cold, gray light outside. If you had a better understanding of any of the workings inside you, you could reach forward and tell her everything that's stopped you.

-

You're supposed to meet the girl-of-the-month at a New Year's party. Hyeju looks disgusted within the first ten seconds of the whole story.

"Heejin dumped you once, like, two months ago? For no reason."

"It wasn't a break-up. We talked about what we did wrong and we're doing better," you say, lifting one finger.

She glares, then, tilts her lips into this unamused purse that you can't take seriously at all when she starts walking back and forth across your living room, hands moving emphatically to the sides as she speaks, like she's in the process of unveiling a brilliant argument and is using both palms to guide your eyes toward the unquestionable logic. "God, you're the worst. You're just her easy fuck and you'll still answer her late night calls, really."

She leaves the rest unsaid - that she's just not that into you.

"I don't tell you which boys or girls you can call up," you try, putting on a boot. "If you'd like, I can. Name off the list, and make sure that the right name leaves my mouth this time."

Hyeju doesn't blush when you glance up, which is the surprising thing. No - her cheeks have grown a little more sullen, and she stares down at her socks in contemplation. You're in the middle of fastening up the lace and getting to your feet, waiting, wondering if Hyeju's going to continue this conversation, when Hyeju takes one small step forward.

And her hand goes out to touch your chin, thumb at your lip, fingers holding it in place - like you'll turn if she lets it go - the sharp shock of the sensation like a short circuit, before her knee comes between yours, and your body tingles, at the root and stem. "Hey," she says, eyes meeting yours. The edge of her nail flicking gently as she drags the curve of her thumb downward.

"Hyeju, please - I need to get going."

When you start walking toward your car, she calls out from the window. Something about how you better have the time of your life, fun for the two of you - it’s only fair.

(You feel, somewhere, a certain strange loss.)

"What, are you going to stay up and wait until I come back? Or am I interrupting your session for the night."

You can barely make it out, the smallest look passing over her face. "Maybe," she says, and then: "god, it's fucking cold."

-

New year's parties have this sort of quality of being simultaneously the most thrilling, exciting prospect on earth and the absolute worst fucking event in the history of the planet - depending on the venue, how egregious the racket is for a gin and tonic, the guests - oh, and the company.

Jinsoul and Choerry are both in attendance; in separate corners and in equal states of undress and intoxication, which seems fine by every present party, who are for the most part busy ogling one or the other in the full spirit of the New Year - as you would too, if the stars are aligned and Heejin hasn't already gone upstairs with half the guestlist, her arm wound with someone else's, as per her recent habit; if you haven't been tossed aside for any of the usual, less forgettable prospects and for something bigger, better and certainly much more enjoyable.

Which, if there were any way to track these things down with math, you'd already be reaching for your pen and notebook, as Hyeju would describe this sensation in a phrase she picked up from some podcast. Inevitable means necessary, or something.

"Good party," says Heejin, throwing back another drink.

"Yep. You said that," and you finish yours in one long draw, hissing through your teeth.

Heejin is a goddamn delight, of course, in all the simplest of ways. When she looks up at you - mouth pink, hair framing her face - she is so clearly and completely aware of what she is, and exactly what the world has in store for her, what it has set aside.

"Do you want to know what happened at the other New Year’s party we went to last year?"

"I - yeah. Hit me. Tell me all about (another date you were on) Heejin, that’s exactly what I’d love, let’s hear it."

She throws her head back and laughs, before starting into an overlong recount of her latest, greatest conquest, you on the outside. This is the thing - this is how a pretty face, with just a hint of a flirt, will make you feel for a beautiful, attractive, vivacious - absolutely shameless, raving sex-crazed lunatic of sorts who, apparently, loves to run around town and make a bunch of your closest friends fall in love and heartbroke-er, with every passing notion of her beauty, her charm - just the tilt of her chin, and some poor fucker is lost, absolutely lost.

 Even she knows it's a bad habit of hers. 

But who doesn't have a weakness? You've got plenty of your own - plenty, Heejin can admit - everyone does, in a way, and so Heejin, the other sloppy drunks milling about the party, and Choerry and Jinsoul all agree - someone like her just happens to have the best kind of weakness - so, so many of them, in fact:

"Can you believe how easily a few words get Jinsoul riled up? Or how it only takes a couple drinks for Choerry to pull up the hem of her skirt, not knowing the effect that'll have?"

And as for the last, and arguably worst kind -

"Hyeju, huh? What a great start to the New Year," is her final word. Heejin reaches across and downs your drink. Her expression turns just shy of grave, a pensive look. "Not your smartest idea, the living-together situation. Who in their right mind would put themselves in such a mess?"

"Thanks for the great advice." You wave her off, irritated.

There's another laugh before Heejin leans her face onto the table.

"Though maybe she's onto something, now that I think of it. Who needs anyone for the New Year?" and it's almost convincing the way her mouth, lined up with the rim of the glass, smirks when she drinks. "Mm. All a matter of taste."

-

The snow is halfway up your calves when you realize you need to find a cab at 11:30 PM on New Year's Eve. (Which, categorically, is the worst time to need to find a cab on New Year’s Eve.)

Or just:

11:36 PM and the nearest bus stop is too far away.

11:41 and the temperature feels like its dropped by fifteen degrees, like you should start wondering what hypothermia symptoms look like and what signs to look out for in yourself, your future wife and your children. You try not to think about why, but you get your phone out and immediately call Hyeju, so you're not sure what you think you're denying.

"No party?" she asks. Her voice is distant and sleep-ridden, but Hyeju's quick to pick up, like always.

"It sucked, I'm trying to find a way home early. Happy New Year."

"Happy New Year." There's a long pause, filled in by the squeak of snow beneath your boots. "Get a kiss?"

"Uh, not yet. In the market, I guess."

Hyeju's low hum isn't reassuring, either. "Well, you're kind of missing your window. Bad time to start looking."

"Says you, and here you are - still up for someone to spend the night with. Look at you," you respond, all this snark in your voice that she clearly hears. There's a long sigh.

"Actually," and Hyeju, much to the confusion of you and possibly the whole world, doesn't respond, and for a few seconds, the line goes completely silent, leaving you hanging.

She breathes once and comes out of her sleep with a yawn.

"I actually," she begins. There's a lot less preamble this time - this tone - and when she speaks again it comes through not nearly as sleepy, "was sorta wondering. Are you on your way home?"

"If I don't freeze to death, yeah."

"Yeah - no, yeah," and that's it. That's the sum total of what makes any difference between where you were a moment ago, and where you are right now, head spinning, fingers buzzing. Hyeju waits and there's the wind on the line, snow settling on your hat and in the corners of your face.

"I - sorry. I probably woke you up. Are you expecting someone else," you say, very small. Your foot drags behind the other. The cars whizz by you faster, passing.

"Hm. You're the only one, I guess," and after that - just static and the muffled sounds of her footsteps on creaky floorboards - or the tick of her ceiling fan? You can't make heads or tails of the rest of the background noise. All those words she said.

You bite your tongue to stop whatever curse words start pouring out from the jumble and cross streets, or the pedestrian underpass; snow gets stuck in your lashes and burns, but your chest is like a molten furnace. You consider telling her right there on the line, everything you're feeling - so hot, it feels like fire, Hyeju, I'm not used to getting heated and desperate and impatient - that even if you're not here now - just imagining your face - the sound of your breathing, it feels like I'm on the cusp.

"Yeah. Sure - good - okay, Hyeju."

"I guess, see you soon?"

"In a bit."

(It takes 33 minutes, trudging through cold and wet. It's all very dramatic, you think, and there's no one there to even watch you suffer for it, or - though you try not to think about that particular line - really, no one at all.)

-

You hear the way your key grinds in the lock - it's been like this, jammed since summer, when you pushed the front door in late at night a little too hard and something came undone and made a sound like a small stone tumbling down the world's deepest well. The hinge squeaks, and there's ice on the stoop, on the doormat, on every nook and corner you can see, all the way up your neck.

And your face, too. You shake off your hat, undo the buttons on your jacket, and pull off your boots before hanging them and all the layers to dry.

You can make out the outline of her profile at the edge of the door frame, right in the kitchen - barefoot, hip pressed against the island, pajamas - the dim lights illuminating the shadow of her head, hair over her face -

- but you don't pause. The next layer. There's nothing left to say. You're too cold for excuses, too smart to use the same ones you'd been taught, like: this is a normal, acceptable circumstance; everything, anything, will be perfectly normal if the two of us act as though that's the case; pretend we're both acting within the norms of reason, within our senses and logical thinking and I won't make myself go out in the cold a second more - won't stand for more than five minutes with your eyes looking like they're waiting.

So you move instead toward the kitchen, where the heating is better and she's already pouring coffee. There's a heat radiating out of the oven, and it smells sweet in there, like cinnamon and warm butter, and you wish you weren't still shaking, blood barely thawed, but there it is - her face, watching you - eyes gleaming as you wrap your hands around a mug, steam rising up - a shiver running up your arms; her knees skirting yours when she takes one step back and there's the cabinet door shut, then open again, and then a palm on your back.

Hyeju presses a cup of the fresh coffee, now warm enough to drink, to your chest, and says, softly. "What the fuck happened out there?"

She starts reaching out to wipe the frost and slush from your face. You let her hand hold you still, eyes wide.

"Oh you know," and her palm stays, even though it's obviously - suddenly - gotten warmer, and wetter too, and the longer she stands there and lets her fingers warm the pale bones of your cheeks, her wrist, the base of your forehead and ears, the more expectant the look on her face grows. "The usual."

Her eyes go as narrow as they ever can. For just a moment. "You're gonna die a slow, pathetic death someday, just for the record."

"Don't forget how this starts," you try, and feel your neck go warm, throat and breath tight. And not even when her shoulders shift, her mouth going smug - just looking at you.

“I mean, don’t you think,” Hyeju says, wagging a finger at you, “that when you suffer through a bad date, the world ought to owe you something?”

"Like what?" you ask.

"Better taste in women - maybe more orgasms; I dunno, a blowjob?" She shrugs. "The general idea is just that someone gets to cum."

You nearly choke on the air in front of you. "Jesus, Hyeju, warn a guy."

“What? I’m trying to commiserate with you,” Hyeju laughs. “Wouldn’t that be funny? Being able to kiss someone you actually, you know, might love you back, and at the same time. Imagine not hooking-up just to forget a shitty day. Sounds wild, right?"

"Utterly deranged."

"So wild."

When Hyeju sighs and gives a long, nonchalant hum, leaning her body closer, pressing up until her waist hits the cabinet top and you're pressed together chest-to-chest, she looks at you and her hips settle, the heel of her foot reaching around your calf.

There's that tingle. Again and again. You're not even trying to not think about what it might mean.

But then, you start, silently and unconsciously, trying to answer the question: why don't you, maybe. Why don't you, actually - Hyeju kisses you, pulls on the loop of your jeans and lets your lips brush the corners of hers and pulls away, suddenly, mumbling and head-turning. And just as abruptly, your nose buries in the space between her neck and her shoulder, where it's all warm. And when she puts her palms on your hips and squeezes and twists her knuckles into the fabric there, it seems she wants your hands up her shirt and under the small of her back.

And her hands - they're fidgety tonight, fingers curled up to keep their nails and the chill away, moving lower - one on your ass, while the other comes forward and begins rubbing circles, a handful of times - enough so you're letting a deep, low breath escape into the space just above her collar, your knee working its way between hers.

"That," Hyeju breathes, lips at your ear, hand reaching down to trace the hard curve of your cock pressing in the spot right between you, and there's that small rush again, familiar now, like you've caught a rhythm and she wants to feel it in its fullness: "is how you can make it up to me. For making me stay up. Worrying about you, god knows why. Waiting."

You're still half-frozen in a way, slowly thawing. "Hyeju, I've been trudging through the consequences of my actions this entire night. What am I about to suffer through now?"

"It's no consequence, honestly."

You squint.

"Just an idea, but," she breathes again; your bodies getting closer, and looking up at you, she grins and reaches down to touch the very root of you, her fingers drumming. You make a sound, and at that she says, her voice coming out thick, low:

"Want me to get you off?"

She squeezes again for good measure, just to be clear. Just a slight curl of fingers that's enough to send a flash of heat and the transient thought: why, why, why is she always wearing those fucking shorts, even in the winter?

Your blood thrums through the pulse at the end of your cock. You shake.

"Alright," is the response you let out.

And at that, Hyeju takes your wrist and leads you upstairs.

"There's that look. Don't worry. We'll find a way," is all she says as your feet walk forward, up step-by-step and higher and further up to her room. "After all, isn't that what we've always done?"

"It's usually whatever will make me stop talking."

Hyeju puts her chin on your shoulder. Her eyes follow the lines and shapes in the patterns of wallpaper as you turn onto her side of the apartment, and even through the wall and behind the doorway, her arm still around you, she pulls at your chin until your faces turn and you both can share each other's heat.

"Who, you and your awful habit of talking out-loud in your head while you work through equations?" and she brings her lips to yours, close and warm.

"Hey. Fuck you," and your voice breaks into an odd, low laughter when she kisses you harder.

"Yeah, I know," she whispers as her hand dives past the band of your boxers, palm sliding easily until she's gripping you fully and letting her fingers rub. She holds you there, in her room, her arm looped through yours, another arm resting at your belly.

And she stops there. She stays like that: holding your gaze.

"Look, Hyeju," you say, unable to not, though this can hardly count for anything; this, what you're about to admit, is nothing new. You swallow. "The thing is - you shouldn't."

"Don't want me to touch you?" she says, finger to your lips.

"Well, that's different. Maybe. Is there - maybe it's not the best thing to ask you right now."

Hyeju considers for a brief moment and tuts under her breath. "Can you at least do me the decency of waiting until I'm done wringing you dry before you say shit like that."

And she moves then, toward the bed.

So:

No. Yes. Maybe. Who knows, you tell yourself. Maybe, but only because you'll do anything if it makes you feel less sick, like a creature standing over its own skeleton - an abandoned shell; a relic, something to be feared and disgusted, as you let her go between your thighs, kneel beside the bed.

"I mean - since when - have you felt," is just as far as you're allowed to go before Hyeju presses her nose into you and pulls you out of the thin, cold fabric - palm, thumb, all those slender fingers swiping over your head - and now there's just the smell of her room and the shock, the buzz that runs down your spine and settles somewhere, somewhere inside the small and desperate movement of your hips and the tension building just below.

And god, fuck, Hyeju’s lips.

These soft, wet, pouty fucking things that could suck you straight off if you were feeling any less stupid or inexperienced or sentimental - if she wasn't solely intent on teasing it out of you first; a slow drag of the tongue up the underside; the tip of it poking, tracing the rim, like she's figured you out, just where to lead you. She's ready to smoke you out - always - until you're not taking in a breath every ten seconds but starting to close your eyes to the overwhelming, needling pleasure, too sharp, the way she knows you like best.

"Now you're finally - mm - starting to sound hot," and that smirk comes back to the corner of her mouth, teasing the sensitive belly of your cock and tracing her tongue everywhere. "With the voice and -"

You're losing track, her thumb and fingers circling the whole length of you - just, one after the other - mouth a hair-breadth away, her breath hovering like a promise.

"- that face."

"Don't, fucking tease me-"

The sound of your cock going in is like nothing else.

Wet and filthy in all the right ways.

Just the suction in her throat has your eyes nearly roll back into your head - Hyeju's gaze calmly watching the terrible sort of helplessness that washes over you like this: her lips wrapped around, bobbing - her hair falling into the wet mess of her mouth and sticking there. Hyeju likes being a little sloppy, likes feeling that spark run up the length of her tongue when she slides. It's the wet and the heat that gives everything away.

"I don't have much of a choice -" her jaw and chin is smudged when she pulls back off of your cock, mouth glossy and glistening, "and honestly, wouldn't it be a better use of our time, or my talents if I actually do that thing?"

“Which is?”

She looks up for a bit and sighs, the flush blooming pink to the tip of her ears and into the rounds of her cheeks and all across her neck. "Since, as far as I can see, what you really like - is, oh I'm just spit-balling here," and she stops just to bite her tongue and look into your eyes, "it's letting the girls take care of you? Isn't that right?"

You want to tell her, no, not always, that it's not as though you enjoy giving control completely - that that would be completely and unarguably, the opposite of true -

That most of the time you love it when the person you're with is a little bossy, a little crazy for you. You know some guys really get off on a strong woman and maybe, maybe if a girl's pretty and dressed up, and - sure - a little wet, but that's hardly -

“You know I’m right,” she says, a flicker of mischief skittering across her features. “These walls are paper thin.”

You want to tell her, perhaps remind her, that she likes someone in charge just as much as you do - to be taken care of, told what to do - to have a hand curled up around her throat and the other at her tits while a guy fucks her the right way and takes the reigns when she needs. So who are you, when it comes to knowing her better? And who, really, are you fooling?

But before you can get any words in: Hyeju dips, lips parting where the head of your cock throbs, and then disappears; and the hot wet warmth, enveloping all around your shaft and back; the curve of her throat contracting.

You moan - a lot, and louder this time - into the whole feeling. The way her fingers work the distance from the base, twisting and twisting and twisting into the pout of her lips; or how the sound is like nothing - a whimpering, messy sound - almost a whine and definitely not a slurp as your cock sinks further and further, until it's all one big, heavy throb.

And it's like Hyeju can read your thoughts, the visual you have of her lips screwed tight around your shaft - cum leaking from the corners, and her eyes scrunched up tight, as she looks up to watch your face unravel - this perfect image of her taking you, all of you, swallowing each drop as your hips start rutting up into her and - and - and.

Or else she gets impatient, because then Hyeju gives one long pull off the tip of your cock - saliva mixed in the precum there, and that shiny string of fluid hanging, caught in the middle between your bodies - a disgusting and irresistible sight. Her jaw slack, lips swollen and full, and her mouth gone wide open, wanting.

"Fuck - that's good. Don't stop," you start to whimper, desperate, at the sight, the smell. Her hot breath coming quick over the red wanting wetness left behind - then touched by the cold air - fuck -

She slaps your cock to the corner of her lips as she speaks.

"Can you believe what's going on down here?"

"God, can you -"

"And to think most guys wanna jump straight in. That or fuck a load out between my tits."

"Hyeju, shit, come on -"

She kisses the soft tip, right where it’s most sensitive, rolls it along her lip. Then, back down the length of your shaft where she's generous with her mouth inch after inch - lapping, licking, laving - and Hyeju begins working her way down and downward, nestling in at the edge of the bed and between your thighs.

Your eyes blow up the first time she dips low enough to put your balls in her mouth. 

“Mmhm,” she hums.

It’s killing you and she knows it; it’s killing you and she can feel the pre-cum leaking from your slit - the thumb she has moored there, keeping everything right where she wants it, running circles up the length with such little intention - she could bring you to the end just like this. 

"Am I supposed to believe it?” she asks out from beneath the shadow of your cock, looking up at you with her eyes all wide and brilliant - pupils dark as sin. “That not a single one of those girls ever did you proper?"

You curse under your breath. Hyeju seems amused, at least, like she can't help but love doing that to you, which is almost worse and honestly the sexiest thing a girl can be. You groan - wanton, raw and desperate and feeling exactly what she wants you to feel when her nails drag along the dip of your hip bones.

"Did they not leave you fucked-up the right way?"

Her wrist flicks out these twists and turns, making your spine bend to her control. Like even when you're sure to be bundling her hair in your fingers and fucking the whole length of your cock down her throat, all of this is the worst kind of power-trip for her - not the other way around.

Her tongue runs through the tangle of your balls, slowly, lasciviously, as though the plan is to memorize and map every detail. 

And the worst part is, how much it's making you desperate for the warmth of her mouth - where she'll run her tongue up and down and over and around and inside - before sucking you off nice and slow.

"Or maybe," she laughs; another flick to the top and then suddenly her hand goes faster and the fist pumping the rest of you tightens. "They left you so needy you're resorting to having the bestie suck you off so that you won't be desperate the next time you date. Oh my god-" 

Hyeju breaks into this fit of laughter, and you're nearly cross-eyed at the feeling of your entire existence - not just your cock - so wholly held within her mercy, and her pity, and you're breathing so shallow now you'd think this is the real reason people have died and will die - this exact moment where you're choking and stuttering at the edges, so very close to cumming and going absolutely bonkers with how good Hyeju is with her hands, her tongue, her mouth - everything - how much she's wrecking you, and your jaw drops, wide open, her name dripping like molasses off your lower lip.

"Are you going to cum?" she asks, curiously. All as if she can't see you nodding, collapsing under pressure, and then and there: "should we make it official?"

Her nose tickles the seam of your balls. And your toes begin to curl and uncurl - all this anticipatory, coiling pleasure burning from her throat, shooting from the pit of your stomach; the tightening spiral, twinging and stretching every nerve - as her lips enclose around the end of your cock, softly.

And oh, just excruciatingly slowly.

You watch the irresistible shape of her mouth travel down until her throat feels so incredibly, beautifully, and unbelievably tight, and then, just like that - Hyeju starts fucking herself onto you; pushing forward and down the full, rigid length of you, hard and fast - each time hitting deeper inside her - all that sticky, messy, wet squelching.

"Unh-unh, yeah. Unh. Mm-!" you say, or moan, or some animal version of that, maybe, it’s incoherent.

But regardless:

It's messy and your hands scramble for purchase in the sheets of her bed when you feel that snap, the tightening of a trigger; when your balls roll up and it builds, and builds, and it comes faster - harder and -

"Hyeju," you pant, and it sounds so, so filthy. "I'm gonna cum, if you - gonna cum-"

Hyeju pulls you free from her lips, quite possibly at the most final of final moments, to rub the base up and down, just right, between her fingers. Your cock is resting right on her cheek when it all happens. When she squeezes her fingers around your balls just enough to hear you wheeze and make a sound no sane man should have the right to. And fuck, you're cumming all over her face - or just one side of it - which is already just -

Okay, fuck.

She makes a startled sound and her fist closes tightly around your shaft when you pump another fresh load of white up onto her eyebrow.

"I'm, ah-shit," your mouth moves faster than the blood in your veins - and now the shame - oh god, the humiliation, it's pulsing right behind you. "Hyeju," you apologize.

Only, Hyeju has no interest in any of it. She doesn't seem offended or disappointed in proportion to how you're ruining her pretty face: "no, just do it, cum wherever you fucking like."

Which isn't what you're expecting at all, because Hyeju makes no effort to close her lips, let alone avoid any of it; nor is she making a fuss about the sticky mess in her hair, her mouth, nor as another stream of cum throbs from your cock, all tangled up in the long dark eyelashes that sweep down across her cheek.

It’s fucking filthy: you're cumming all over her and she's just kneeling there, telling you, "good boy."

See, she pushes through it, languidly - all those filthy sounds, and those watery little tears gathering at the edge of her eye and all of that, mixing up together until you're rolling your head back with your orgasm, shuddering, feeling weak - drained dry -

Except,

Hyeju's pushing a finger to your chest, kneeling up tall from the side of the bed. She turns her body toward the center of the bed and wipes a bit of the cum on her knuckles into the sheets. Here you feel like you've done something terrible or at least regrettable, like that last round at the bar when you have a test the next morning; a dick move, all of the sort that requires apology.

"You gotta give me a minute, if you're thinking about hopping on."

"Hmm. Sounds like a lot to ask."

"Wait," you grab her arm. Hyeju grins and there's nothing stopping the shake of your knees now, that weakness between your thighs: "let me get you a drink."

"Or."

"Or?"

Her tongue peeks out, running along her upper lip. Her eyes drop again, hands dipping below, beneath the hem of her shorts and oh. She slips a hand past her bra. The whole outline of it. And you -

"Mm, I could show you what that actually means." She lowers her chest, her breasts, and a lot of skin to the mattress while keeping your cock firmly in her hands. "That look tells me you wanna stick around a bit. Stay up past New Year’s, you know?"

You're almost unable to parse her words, there is so much to look at: the jutting curve of her chest, cleavage pressing into the mattress as her body settles between your knees. A soft chuckle; a sigh: "you are seriously the best lay, no-one else can get hard the minute after they just fucking exploded all over me-"

"Fuck, watch it," you hiss, because there's oversensitivity - and then there's Hyeju's mouth on the line of your cock, polishing you clean.

And it’s not that she isn’t trying to prove a point. Or that she's not trying to tease - that's an inherent quality of her character: a naturally dominant position with a high appetite for your lust. That much, Hyeju gets from you, whether you've got your head down between her thighs or the other way, too, so that her neck is arched around and her ass pushed up high in the air, legs open, and if she had any idea you would spend the next twenty minutes or more just going down on her, licking into her creaming cunt while two fingers work over her aching clit, then really, Hyeju would only encourage it - maybe get on top, force you to gag - and so you don't know where it comes from - how and why you want nothing more than to drive your fingers inside her and work her until she's a wet, squelching mess, not when this was always Hyeju's role of being the aggressor; and yes, sure, even the aggressed.

Surely not because you came so hard, still somewhat shivering with the remnants of a rather abrupt, painful, sudden and all-consuming orgasm.

"We're not doing anything else," she says, lips pulled up into a smirk right at the crown of your cockhead. But before you can respond she pushes a hot open kiss, and goes lower. She presses the flat of her tongue to the seam, just below the head. Licks a line right up to the tip and finishes with a tender flick that sends you fisting the bedspread in your fingers and leaning back as your mind begins to disintegrate -

"I'm not going to ride you yet, or going to get my hips in your hands so you can fuck my pussy real hard until I cry and pass out. Nothing of that sort is gonna happen." She licks one long drag of her tongue. Then, the other way. "I want to make this very clear: this isn't some huge favor - and if you want it - want it so bad, you can stay there and I'm going to do everything for you. We will get there - together," and with her voice shaking as she brings the wet, glistening skin of your cock just inside her mouth, she looks up. "We'll get each other off, just like this," and it's the deep, dark, throated moan that makes your thighs and all the nerves in between stiffen and buck when she swallows you again.

Hyeju's hands tug, pull her whole body closer still as it slowly bends, curves - her ass raised, her stomach lying on the bed. Her mouth takes you another few inches, until the tip of her nose is barely visible, but when she pauses to lick the cum still left over - the cum that's starting to leak out again - to breathe through it, then squeeze her palm and bob her mouth down, take another inch, until the sides are stuffed and emptying out again, that's when she finally has something to say: "got anything left? I'm a little starved."

"I. Christ, yes-" you whine, which doesn't help your case at all: the image, the image of you lying flat - back with Hyeju's head tucked between your knees, her hand pulling out your cock.

Sloppy, slimy-wet.

She presses an innocent, not-at-all-innocent kiss right to your tip, puckering - 

"You know what I did learn in that genetics class?" she muses, tongue flicking over her lips. Hyeju's about ready for a second helping - you're losing it. "When I first saw that DNA diagram - the double helix and all those little base pairs, and everything - it made me think of your cock. Your cock and me. Specifically our DNA. Did you know-"

She presses her palm over the head and rolls it - teases and strokes her palm - her knuckles - her fist - the whole nine. "When I hold your big fucking cock, mm, and just get it right - up in here, rubbing all along my walls - so deep, it gets me in my fucking ribs, makes me choke like I never been choked before, ah-mm," and it's this thought sliding toward the front of your mind, this perfect picture: Hyeju, getting fucked hard and open and stuffed full and stuffed good and stupid; you’ve got more than a few inches on her, can make her feel small and delicate; you know how to do her right.

But here you have Hyeju stroking the shaft - holding her hand tightly up near the head, rolling and twisting and sliding down and pushing her whole body right into the side of your legs: the soft, solid length, warm flesh and curves everywhere pressing into you.

You sit back, and just watch Hyeju with her eyes cool and composed, like half of her fucking face isn't streaked with your cum, mouth wrapped and looking fucking satisfied to be a total, gorgeous mess. She makes a dramatic display of kissing the tip again, just before telling you words you probably dreamt up at some point - either sleep deprived, or, during three AM jackoff, fantasizing. "Sometimes, just from riding your cock, I can't sit up straight."

"Fuck," and you feel your whole body run rigid, because apparently that's something you’ve been aching to hear.

You're covering her mouth again. White streaking onto her lips - where she's catching it in the well beneath her tongue and letting it spill out of the corner of her mouth. Into the crook of your thumb, which catches a drip here and there and rubs it down the length - down the curve - and pushes it back between Hyeju's pert little pout.

"Doesn't count, mister, just more pre-cum," she says, all with the audacity of a wink and smile; her words are a little garbled around the head of your cock between her teeth. And when you nod and realize just how painfully your jaw hurts, your throat becomes tight and raw, a knot pulling the underside from the center. Hyeju slides her lips lower, lower down, to the hilt and stays there, just like that - one hand holding down the flat of your belly to keep your hips still, her chin hanging - bobbing-as she feels every pulse, every twitching shift. You curl one hand around the side of her face, over the sharp edge of her jaw; rub a thumb into the delicate skin of her throat.

She shifts. You start to tell her what you like: how hot the rush comes when a girl puts her tongue against the slit at the very tip, and licks at the precum in nice, quick circles, soft and fluttering. And how her fingers shouldn't hesitate either, Hyeju's not even struggling to give it to you - god - just giving and -

She jerks her head up, swallowing down her next breath like it's one of her last. "I'm serious, if you're going to fuck a hole, start with my mouth - we can move onto everything else after."

"You're ridiculous -"

She meets her lips to your head, kissing once. Again. Kissing every inch, letting her mouth wrap around and then just - staying, just - staying like that and humming, with you, enjoying the fullness, the smell of you, the taste, the shape, just the weight and size and you.

There is spit fucking everywhere.

And if it's not clear what you're supposed to be doing - her fingers weave through yours, squeezing hard at the wrist and you can imagine: pulling her forward by her hair and holding her down while she chokes on your cock. "Fuck, Hyeju," you say, and your voice comes out way shakier than you'd like, "when, how did it get like this, huh? You always - always did, shit, always want your mouth filled."

"Never figured you to be someone who'd get turned on watching their friend sucking their cock like this."

"Doesn't everybody love the sight of their cock in a pretty girl's mouth?

"You were really convinced they weren't lining up behind you? Or anyone in the queue who can't keep their eyes off of this thing. Tell me, and try not to lie, try not to bullshit this one out: how many girls have you come home and fucked and creamed their brains out - then asked for the sloppiest, most -"

"Honestly."

"- Filthiest, nasty, ball-busting, gut-wrenching blowjob ever to make them think - to make them really start wondering what the hell it was you did - like it's gotta be something that leaves them so ruined, they can't ever not compare - can't ever not compare this moment, right here. Ever. When you give them the hardest fucking of their life, compared to any other guy - can't not, because no-one, literally no-one's cock can fuck like you do-"

"Fuck-"

"Any harder. Come on, seriously, tell me it isn't true. Come on."

Her voice - her fucking words, the tone she uses and how her words roll: honey-warm and soaking with sweet, thick degradation - she talks like sex, and that's exactly what gets you harder, like it’s something else; like it’s nothing, like it’s less, so much worse - you feel this guilty-dirty heat pool at your tailbone and push down the hard press of you throbbing all the way to her nose. And Hyeju smiles as much as she's capable around the fat, round stretch, humming around the warm taste of you, before opening wide and sinking her throat on it.

There's nothing like it.

You've got two fists in her hair; she's so tight and wet around every god-damn inch. Her cheeks flush - hot to the touch; her tongue laving in slow, long drags, slicking your shaft nice and warm until you're balls-deep and pushing her further: a small shift to the hips, a push here, a harder, faster pull, and Hyeju's feet behind her go curling like an angry cat, wanting the tug.

A long, satisfied breath slips from the hollows of her throat.

There are tears threatening, thickening her lashes, and though she doesn't choke - you're just afraid. Every sound that she pulls out, her eyes blinking up to you as if it's only natural to love getting used by her friend's cock, like the very premise of it - swallowing down the very shape of you, dragged over her tongue and brushing cum into the back of her throat - is something she can’t go without.

But this is nothing compared to the noises from where her lips are pressed tight around you, where you're hearing and even feeling:

That gluck, gluck - where her chest spasms just the slightest when her nose gets nuzzled right into your belly and you remember how much she likes to hear you talk dirty, how fucking wet it gets her. The heavy, deep breaths, gasps; the strangled moans when your hips just buck - the heat and the thrill, and this is better than every other time because there's just something in this moment -

"I'm not gonna come again, not like this. Not in your mouth. You can’t-"

But Hyeju refuses to hear a word; just pumps your shaft faster, feeling it's familiar hardness grow and throb and ache and retch, all her effort paying off: you're slick with precum and spit, hard and straining, the whole shaft begging for release - all because of her. And Hyeju won't stop, she pushes her cheek onto your thigh and then taps a hand there to pull your hips. The motion drives your cock further still inside her. Until it’s bathed in her spit, your cum, all this mess.

Until it's reaching, choking her, and the muffled sounds she's making are filthy and wet and so incredulously hot.

But god. Hyeju has something of a temper and a habit, too: with those big beautiful eyes and the perfect plump of her pouting lips, her tits swelling up around, when your grip slips on her shoulder, and her mouth goes tighter - how the pleasure begins to make you unbearably cruel and you push her away from you, only for a second -

She doesn't wait or seem to care; Hyeju follows the cock with her whole head and whimpers so hotly in her throat when it plops right back on her tongue. "That's more - more like - fuck, oh, there we go," her nose and fingers prodding.

You groan through a high, strangled whimper, a helpless shiver that turns into an uncontrollable roll of the hips - you can't believe it: she's already so thoroughly debauched and defaced; just fucking painted with it. Your cum dripping off her chin and rolling down her neck.

"Fuck - gonna make me - ah, Jesus -"

When Hyeju seems to have reached her fill, the feeling, you're cumming - pumping the length of your shaft. And the moment she feels you twitch and throb and that first hot spill lands in the bend of her mouth, it's as if she understands and holds herself tight - her legs going stock-still while your eyes blow up behind her, your cock spewing another and then another thick, milky load into her mouth, over her tongue: all along the topography of her throat - sticky cum landing in every ridge and valley -

Hyeju catches as much as she can. What little she can. You cum and pump and gush so much that when you're finally finished - done - every last drop spent and given - your cock throbs soft between her fingers; her chin is a complete and utter mess and her chest heaves with the sound of her catching her own breath. Hyeju groans softly and just swishes the load around in her mouth for a bit as if wanting to remember its feel and weight before lifting her eyes to look into yours. You can just barely see the color.

"Jesus, Hyeju-"

The entire bit of it, slick and shining-wet. With a small moan, a sound from the back of her throat: one swallow and the cum is gone, disappeared, vanished. She smiles like she didn't just ruin your entire goddamn life and, with her body limp and exhausted beside you - her gentle hand rubbing a flat stroke over your thigh before yours slips up to meet her chin.

"You," you curse and roll your eyes, catching the mess at the edge of her jaw, the very little left in the corners of her lips. You feed the cum over her bottom lip - her chin, her throat - watching your friend: Hyeju's throat, bobbing. "Really didn't have to," you start, but you realize just how useless a point it is to make.

She's smiling and biting and showing you what's left between the tips of her canines. "Do you always do this to the people who suck you off?"

"That's an awful habit. A pretty girl's lips aren't meant to get that messy," you reply.

"Oh." She frowns. "Well, I do a lot of things I shouldn't."

"God, seriously," and you think there's no greater hell, no sweeter pain than whatever's lingering in these little aftershocks - this fizzling and dying sort of pain, where the body is buzzed with all you're aching for. It's impossible to stop this train of thoughts, is the fucking feeling of her-

But just then, Hyeju rises to her knees, a new spark in her eyes, as she grabs ahold of your wrist and tugs you off the sheets, a few inches closer.

"And you," she purrs as she drags the palm of your hand across her neck and collarbone, collecting what remains and making the perfect image, "well - you are going to help clean me up, like you said before." She sits tall; the arch of her spine is pronounced - her back, so, very, slightly tapering, to where your hand slips right off the last of it: the wide flare of her hips. "Now isn't that the gentleman's thing to do?" she asks.

"Of course." You sigh, resigned and in desperate need of water. "Of course," you add and smirk a little and slip your hand lower, toward where her skin is getting hot, and her body, "let's get you clean."

"Mm." She's already grinning. "You know what wasn't in those textbooks?"

"Oh, I can only guess." You bite your cheek and start to lower yourself back. "Give it a try."

Hyeju drags you by the wrist toward the hall, the bathroom, ostensibly the shower -

"There's no way in hell you don't want to put a baby in me, like, right fucking now."

"Is that what we're doing?"

Hyeju makes a face like you're stupid - she might've grabbed a towel on the way out. She wipes her chin a little while walking - the corner of her mouth where, well - where it looks like a little dribble has somehow remained. "No. But you’re going to fuck me like it is."

-

(There's got so much on her mind. 

The door of the shower rattling in its frame as she struggles standing up against it. Getting fucked so fast and full, the feeling of both your hands cupped beneath the weight of her breasts. It's not the fact of where you are and your situation, per say - more about the immediate, the imperative nature. About fucking you. She was already feeling herself like, leaking the moment the door shut, so all that waiting, all that patience, really - and it's what drove her insane when you were, well: like that, after she put her mouth around your cock, made a right and proper mess of herself, and sucked you off.

Though there's less on her mind, clearly, when she cums all over your cock.

She's crying with her tits up onto the glass, your palm holding her ribs. Your cum-slick cock working itself hard again as it slips, back and forth, as you're fucking her open, spread apart. It's your finger in her asshole. That's what's on her mind then. How the press of your knuckle lights her entire fucking spine on fire - how the other hand finds her clit in all this, too, when you're no longer supporting the both of you but rather Hyeju is folding on her bent knee and trusting, on shaking and shivering, raw nerves, that you're not going to collapse.

"Fucking. God, please-"

There's the harsh slap of flesh - skin on wet skin, your palms against the sides of her ass and the curve of the breast. But otherwise - it's you, sighing - soft and gentle, like you can't get over the feel of her. "Hyeju, oh-fucking, god, fucking," is what you're saying, and it doesn't end up really mattering which one of you came last because she can feel you twitching, squelching in and out with how badly you're wanting to explode inside, but also you can feel her cunt absolutely begging, this fucking fluttering and clamping down on every thrust and the moment you manage to grind this angle she loses her ability to speak properly because you're not just, like - fucking her-

Just, absolutely, completely pounding her pussy, stretching her insides, dragging and sliding along the walls; each rough rub and thrust makes her knees quiver until her body is trembling and falling. But mostly her voice, the sharp gasp that shakes into her, how her nails are scraping the walls of the shower stall and she's saying - telling, crying and asking and wondering and pleading - just utterly astounded:

"Amazing," she huffs, breathes coming out cloudy and true onto the pane of glass, "you - it’s, fucking amazing.")

-

“And I am… Ironman.”

Your eyes flicker awake, hazy, as Tony Stark snaps his fingers, killing himself alongside Thanos’ army in the process.

The TV's long been running on background noise, though not as ambient. Its characters now bickering between the rubble and ruins and being picked up for the end credits. In the dark of the screen, you see Hyeju had nodded off and slumped over the side of your body. A new year means new beginning means resolutions and diets and gym routines -

Maybe no sooner than the sun can come up, apparently.

You lean over to grab your phone from the table: 4:14 A.M.

There's a lot of things you want to say, even more you want to hear, but your mind has begun to settle a bit - a lazy and dreamy thing that fills you with this sort of, tired kind of - not sad, or empty - no, of course not. That's hardly fitting; not after tonight. You want to wrap this in an idealistic sort of sentiment - maybe hold Hyeju close and let the hour carry you and the comfort be enough to forgive whatever there is to miss: like the fact, it's still really dark, so dark even outside. The moon reflecting off the sheet of snow on the street. And not even a distant dog barking, or car driving by or someone playing loud music in the early hours of the new year.

As the film drifts off into another set of commercials, you slip into an easy sleep that feels effortless. Your head drops, landing on the cushion by the arm of the couch, where Hyeju's hand begins to slip mindlessly across your belly, tickling your waist and causing you to slightly squirm - things are cooling down, but still a little agitated.

"Don't tell me you're waking me up, cause I just -"

She kisses the pulse at your throat and answers, mumbling half-words into the spot below your ear. "A kiss for a new year."

And maybe the world doesn't owe you anything at all.

Maybe it just gave you more than enough.

[simpxxstan]

lunch

pairing: elementary school teachers lee seokmin x f.reader

genre: fluff, fluff and some more fluff. a tiny pinch of angst.

summary: as a veteran at sebong elementary school, you don't let any of your juniors get too close to you. the new science teacher, lee seokmin, doesn't seem to get the note, though.

word count: 9.6k words

rating: pg 13 

warnings: use of a few profanities, mention of alcohol and illegal gambling. reader is a bit cold in the beginning. slight age gap.

a/n: SO MUCH FLUFF my body hurts but it was so nice to just write good guy dokyeom after all that angst for wonwoo. i'm sorry to any hyungwon fans who may be reading this though T_T

would love to hear feedback!! reblogs and comments are so so much appreciated <3

this is part of the boys over flowers series featuring booseoksoon + chan! this is the first instalment in that series.

It was a day of much ruckus and excitement. The teachers and students were all waiting eagerly to meet the four new teachers who were joining Sebong Elementary School that day. Children with bright cherub faces peeped from their classroom windows, some crowded in the corridors, and teachers whispered loudly, as they all waited to see the four faces of the new teachers emerge from the Principal’s office. And when they finally did, a loud, collective gasp was heard rippling through every room and corner of Sebong Elementary School. And then the bubble broke, as loud whispers and giggling overtook every other noise, as the four men smiled at the kids and adults gathered through the school. They shone brighter than the tubelights on the ceiling-

“Okay, I think you’re exaggerating, Sohee. I’m sure they don’t have 1000 watt smiles.”

“Oh, Y/N, but they do! Even an ice queen like you is going to melt when you see them. They just exude warmth, kindness, and handsomeness. They look like idols, really!” 

“Now you’re definitely exaggerating. Park carefully, and don’t daydream please. I’ve been nervous from the moment I let you drive my car.”

“It’s a third-hand car. I should, in fact, smash it, so that you can buy something better. The government’s just moments away from declaring it as junk.”

“This is all I can afford, Sohee.”

“Car loans exist!”

“Bankruptcy exists!”

Sohee huffs, and you meticulously check the rear view mirror to ensure she parks neatly. Once done, (read, once Sohee has finished touching up her lipstick and her mascara, and put a few cute hairclips in her long brown hair, cute by her metrics), you both step out of the car. The heat has become harsher, and you’re a little taken aback by the sting of sunlight on your skin. But it feels good to be out again after that stupid bout of fever which had kept you away from school, and consequently, your life. 

You meet several students getting out from the bus in front of the school, some smiling and already chattering with their friends, others shyly holding on to the fingers of their parents. Some of them wave hi to you, others loudly squeal their welcome backs. Your morning grumpiness is slowly wearing away, and you can feel energy bubbling in. It’s barely been the start of the year, and the little ones are very, very gradually warming up to the idea of being away from home for longer than three hours. It’s a trying time for their teachers, and you’re grateful that you don’t teach the youngest class. 

On the short walk from the parking area to the school, and it’s such a miracle that Sohee doesn’t start talking about the four new teachers, because you’re frankly tired of hearing about them. It feels like they don’t exist, and even if they do, they’re going to be massive letdowns compared to Sohee’s descriptions. Sohee does have the habit of hyperbole. 

But you fall headfirst into it as you slide open the door to the staffroom. Everyone stands up and greets you, as you’re one of the earliest members of the staff. You’d like to think that their greetings are out of affection, and not just respect, but you don’t mind. Majority of the staff is quite young, and people look up to you as the sunbae, and it’s a position of respect you crave and enjoy. It’s not like you’re great at showing how you love them either. You can just hope that they get to know about it from time to time, and don’t hate you for not being too affectionate.

As everyone stands up, you bow to the general crowd, and greet them back, but you’re also welcomed by four unknown faces. 

Oh. They must be the new teachers. 

Well, Sohee wasn’t really wrong-

Sohee immediately sparks up and begins talking about how you had really high fever, and every evening she found you lying inside your bed, covered in blankets like a burrito, messy in snot and sweat-

“Okay, that’s enough. Sohee, please spare them the details of my ugly illness.” You’re embarrassed and quite red all over, and out of the corner of your eye, you’re watching the reactions of the four new men. Sure, you may not care much about what other people think, but it’s your first impression after all. Everyone is quite vehemently cooing at you now, and the four men have confused, but concerned expressions on their faces. 

Minseo comes to the rescue, when she diverts the topic to introduce the new faces to you, and you’re grateful for the first time to hear about these new teachers. 

“This is our sunbae, Y/L/N Y/N! She’s one of the first teachers at Sebong Elementary School.” “Aaah, Minseo-yah! You make it sound like she’s old!” Sohee scolds, but you don’t mind. You sure feel old after the way that fever broke your immunity like a twig.

“Aah, sorry. And Y/N Unnie, these are our new joinees this year!” She gestures towards the men, and they bow. You bow in return, and take a full look at them, smiling back at them. 

“Hello! I’m Lee Chan, I’m a ‘99 liner! I’ll work hard and show my best side to you, sunbae!” “Good morning! I’m Boo Seungkwan. Nice to meet you!” “Oh, sunbae, hello! I’m Kwon Soonyoung, I’m also glad to meet you Y/N-ssi!” “And I’m Lee Seokmin! I’ll work hard, please take good care of me, sunbae!” They shake your hands like dominos, and your eyes linger a second too long on the last one, the tall one with the brightest smile. 1000 watt seems about right? “I’m happy to meet you too! Let’s work hard for a long time!” You smile back, and there’s a collective Fighting! through the room, before the school bell rings, and the cacophony of kids entering their classrooms breaks the silence of the school building. 

_

It’s lunchtime, and you’ve already forgotten their names. Sohee insists that you sit with them at the same table for lunch, but you’re not hungry enough to take lunch. It’s been a tiring day, and you just want to sip your iced americano and finish the pending work on your desk in the staffroom. Missing a week of school is as burdensome for teachers as it is for students. There are piles of things left to be done, and you assign yourself the task of finishing filling in the register with the names of the students for that lunch break. The staffroom is empty, and you’re happy to work in peace. 

You’re so focused on your work that you don’t even notice when a tall man walks into the staffroom sometime in the middle of the lunch break, peeps at you from his desk at the other corner of the room, and then leaves. 

_

It’s finally Friday, and that’s how you’ve spent the last four lunch breaks. You’re finally getting through the pile of work at a steady pace. On top of it all, the Principal has promoted you to the Head Teacher of Science Department, as the previous head’s tenure is over, and that means all the science teachers have to approve their lesson plans for this term through you and you’re also in charge of allotting field trips for scientific experiments. 

That’s why Lee Seokmin ambushes you when you’re about to leave at the end of the school day. “Sunbae, I was wondering if you could perhaps look at my lesson plan once? Maybe you could go over it during the weekend?”

You halt your actions of packing your bag, and carefully take the folder from the outstretched hand of the tall man towering over your desk. “Umm, I could look through it now.”

“No, I mean! I’m sorry I didn’t know how to approach you earlier, Sunbae. I’m sorry, I don’t want to keep you from heading home, I’m really sorry-”

“Please stop apologising, Seokmin-ssi. It’s not a big deal. It’s better for me to go through it now in your presence, rather than take it home. I’ll be able to discuss it more smoothly with you then, in case any changes are needed.” 

His puppy brown eyes become tiny slits as he smiles wide. You realise that his hair is draping over his forehead in black curls, and the white shirt he’s wearing reveals the column of his neck very elegantly. He does look good enough to be an idol, you think. 

“Seokmin-ssi, come take a seat here. I won’t bite, in spite of what you may have heard-”

“Oh no! The kids are all praise for you. I’m so thankful to be succeeding you in the classes, because you’ve set such a strong foundation for the students. You’ve made my job a cakewalk, truly.”

“I’m just thankful that you deal with the younger ones now. I enjoy teaching them, but sometimes they can…” You smile lopsidedly, and Seokmin grins. “I’ve heard that I have a lot of patience, sunbae…” “And you have a lot of fighting spirit that we tend to have when we’ve just joined the school. You’ll manage.”

And then the conversation halts. It flows in bits and pieces, as you flip through his lesson plan and discuss changes with him, speaking from experience of having taught these same classes six years more than him. His lesson plan book is very colourful, filled with stickers from cartoons, and brightly drawn smiley flowers. Something in you makes you think that maybe he’s not just doing this as a show for the kids, but also because he likes to do it. He’s very animated in every statement he makes, hand gestures all over his face, but he quietens down when he realises you’re no longer looking at his face, and would rather just get through the work quickly. You’re not annoyed at him, no. It’s just a little overwhelming to see all this energy being thrown at you, and it makes you tired, wondering how to reciprocate it. So you just silently finish your task, and bid him goodbye. He offers to drop you home, but then you say you have your own car, so he gives you another smile and with a natural ease, hops on to his electric bicycle and rides off into the road. 

_

Seokmin-ssi, you realise, doesn’t want reciprocation. He greets you cheerfully every morning, whenever you see him in the campus, whenever you’re making eye contact before leaving for the day, and whenever you both arrive at the same time at school. He doesn’t just say hello, but he also asks if you had a good weekend, if you had a good sleep, if you ate breakfast, if you’ve recovered fully from your cold, if you’re taking your vitamins. It makes you more uncomfortable than before, confusing you whether he’s just buttering you up as a sunbae or whether he’s genuinely this nice. It’s also a little worrying because it makes you feel like he’s trying too hard to be close and you don’t want to be a bother for him, so you hope he takes the hint. But he obviously doesn’t, because the next time you walk into the staffroom determined not to leave your desk, and instead enjoy the peaceful solitude of the staffroom to recharge your battery, you notice a very neat lunch tray sitting on your desk with a note attached on top, “Sunbae, please don’t skip your meals!” It takes you aback, and you stare at it for a good four minutes. Finally you realise you’re too flustered to eat it, and you just keep it aside and get back at your work. 

When Seokmin comes back from his lunch break, he makes the mistake of looking at your desk to see if you’ve eaten, and there. He makes eye contact with your razor sharp eyes looking at him from above your reading glasses. He walks up to your desk and says, “You didn’t eat, sunbae?”

“What do you think you’re doing?”

“I- I- just wanted to-”

“Firstly, Seokmin-ssi, I’m not skipping meals. Secondly, I don’t know if this is normal for you, but I’d appreciate it if we could be harmonious as colleagues. I don’t need you to be my mother for me and feed me. I’m an adult and I know when to eat.”

You can see him gulp and fumble, and for a second, you think you’ve been too harsh. You almost backtrack and apologise, scared that the little light in his eyes is going to go out, but he speaks faster, “I just don’t want you to fall sick again, sunbae. I’m sorry if I was too presumptuous. I’ll do better from now on.” And without another second, he turns and walks out of the room, leaving you speechless. The light in his eyes may not have gone out, but you sure were too mean. Afterall, he was just being nice to you, wasn’t he?”

_

So, the next week, when you’re finally on track and completed all your pending work, you walk into the cafeteria looking to take a lunch break. And you spot Seokmin sitting with Chan on one table on the teacher’s side of the cafeteria. Chan is a sweet boy, and you want to make amends with Seokmin, so you carefully walk across the room to their table and ask, “Can I have lunch with you?” You ask them both, and Chan instantly begins to clear space for you to sit down, but you’re distracted by how wide Seokmin smiles, and you know the ice has melted. He’s forgiven you, so you gently sit down next to him.

It’s a mistake. You hadn’t accounted for how broad he is, and how much he moves his body while speaking. His thighs inch closer to yours with every movement, although very much unconsciously. Even though you’re both sitting, he’s still taller than you, and it makes you shy.

You’re thankful when Soonyoung joins you across the table and you can distract yourself by speaking to him. “Sunbae, it’s so nice to see you in the cafeteria! We rarely ever see you outside the staffroom.” You smile as wide as you can, your mouth full of food. Chan joins in, “Yes, sunbae! Seokmin hyung’s been so-” “We’ve all been worried,” Seokmin interjects, and you’re hit by a pang of guilt. It is pretty natural for coworkers to care about each other. Especially since you’re their senior and they must be looking to make a good impression. 

“I’ve been a little busy with all pending work. The start of the year can be stressful for us senior teachers.”

“I hear Seungkwan hyung is being put in charge of the after-school creche duty?”

“You’ve heard right, Chan. He did apply for it, and given his congenial personality, I think he’d do well if he joined the creche roster.”

“A roster? That means he won’t have duty every day?” Soonyoung asks you.

“Yes, there will be two teachers alternating from Monday to Friday.”

“Oh! Someone lucky gets two days only!”

“We try to ensure even distribution through the month,” you say. “Plus, of course, there can be others volunteering from time to time. So for example, next month, there’s a storytelling week at the creche. Sohee and I will be volunteering for that week as storytellers- that way, the ones responsible for the creche can have a week’s leave from the extra duty.”

Soonyoung and Chan nod in understanding, but you’ve noticed Seokmin is extra quiet, uncharacteristically even. “Do you enjoy the cafeteria food, Seokmin-ssi?” you ask him, speaking softer so that Chan and Soonyoung can’t hear you. It must surprise him, because he looks up at you with wide, boba eyes, and he looks more like a puppy than ever. “I do! The variety is good.” “I’m glad. The caterers recently got changed. The previous ones were seriously falling behind on quality.” Seokmin smiles and eats a big bite of rice and soup, and you chuckle at the comical way his mouth fills up. 

_

You didn’t even think Seokmin would remember. In fact, you’d forgotten that you’d mentioned it yourself. 

But he does. He doesn’t just remember, but he also brings a bag full of old picture books.

You swear your heart stops the moment he enters the hall where the after-school creche is organized and hands you the bag. “These were books my mother had kept for ages even after I’d finished reading them a million times. Thought I’d use them somehow, instead of just letting them gather dust on shelves,” he says as he smiles that pretty, wide smile again. It’s been long enough into the new semester now for you to get used to both Seokmin’s smiles, so you can bask in it. The children bask in it too. Most of the tiny members of the creche know him from the class where he’s teaching about animals, and they squeal in excitement. “Aah, Seokmin-ah, you really didn’t have to. You could’ve gone home and rested for the weekend.” His smile drops, and you mentally slap yourself. You really should take care of your words better, so you rephrase it, “What I meant is… you don’t have to do this out of your way.” “I’m not… going out of my way. I just thought I’d come and watch you, sunbae. I want to learn how to handle little children even better.” 

So he sits in a corner of the hall, Byul and Jiwon sitting on his lap, while his eyes are fixed on you. You’ve taken the storytelling class two days this week, and this is your third day, so you really shouldn’t be so slippery, but something about how he’s looking at you so intently is making you stumble and fall over your words, and your pronunciation often comes out as jumbled as the three year olds sitting in front of you. You’re made even more aware of Seokmin’s presence when snack time arrives, and the kids are too distracted with the picture books to pay attention to their food and eat. Thankfully, Seokmin uses his charm and somehow gathers everyone to sit in a circle around the table. The children have incessant questions, some about the characters they met in the story, and some random questions too, like Are you married, Teacher Seokmin? It doesn’t matter that you pause in your movements to hear his response, a wide-eyed Minhyun looking confusedly at you, wondering why your hand holding his candy is stuck mid-air. It also doesn’t matter that your heart paces up when you see Seokmin glance in your direction before loudly proclaiming that he’s not married. 

The parents arrive soon after that, and then there’s only a crying Byul left, who’s wrapped in Seokmin’s arms as you three wait for her father to arrive. You wonder for a second, how did you ever handle kids, because when you see how Seokmin handles them, you think you’ve done it all wrong for years. He holds her two tiny hands in his own, places her in between his legs and quietly brushes her hair while whispering more imaginary stories about the elephant Byul saw earlier in the picture book. You feel unwanted in this perfect scene, Byul going perfectly silent as she listens to Seokmin talk. But then, honestly, who wouldn’t be in rapture of this beautiful young man?

Byul’s father arrives twenty minutes later, and Byul gives Seokmin a little peck on his cheek before she leaves his arms and goes off with her dad. 

“Sunbae, thank you for letting me be here! I had so much fun, and I also learnt so much from you.” You laugh, “I doubt, though. You’re such a natural with children.” He smiles, “That’s just because I have a lot of cousins. But it’s different handling kids at school. I always have to be extra-careful with them because I’m a complete stranger and not a relative.” “You’re right, and that shows in your care too, Seokmin-ah.” He blushes, and you smile as you lock up the hall and finally make your way to leave the campus. Your back hurts from sitting on the floor for so long and you’re surely glad to go home.

“Sunbae, did you bring your car?”

“Aah, no. Today was Sohee’s carpooling turn, she left early. I’ll just take the bus.”

“Let me drop you home, sunbae! It’s late already.”

You pause, and turn to look at him. His hopeful face, still radiant after the long day. And you feel that same overwhelming feeling take over you. Till now, Seokmin has only given and given, never expecting anything in return. He’s extended a helping hand without you asking for it, he’s reminded you for meals even when you’ve ignored him, he’s been nothing but kind to you. And if he’s doing this even after three whole months of him joining the school, then it can’t be just buttering tactics. 

“I don’t want to get you late, Seokmin-ah.”

“I won’t, sunbae. It’s not a worry, honestly.” He bites his lower lip, his eyebrows furrowed as he asks you again, “Please let me drop you, sunbae.”

It’s been years since a man has been this kind to you. Kind enough without coming off as a creep. A part of you is wary, but something in Seokmin’s eyes makes you feel guilty for ever mistrusting his intentions. 

“Alright, Seokmin-ah. Noona owes you one.” 

You can see the stutter in his eyes even before you hear it in his voice. 

“N-noona? Oh. Noona! I’ll drive you safely!”

And he does. Diligent, puppy-like, kind Seokmin drives you home quickly and safely. For the first time in years, you sleep with a smile on your face.

_

You enter the Principal’s office to find a very nervous-looking Seokmin standing next to the Principal. “Good Morning, Mr. Han. Is something wrong?” “Yes, good morning Y/N. I’ve just received a complaint from a parent, and as the head of science teachers, I’d like you to look into it once.” “Of course.”

Then you turn towards Seokmin, who is standing very upright, but you can see him nervously twitching his feet. “Seokmin-ssi, is the parent here in school, or have you received a written complaint?” Seokmin’s voice is barely audible the first time he speaks, so you take a couple of steps to be closer to him. “Don’t be so nervous. Please tell me everything so that I can help resolve this.” He looks at you, his eyes still wide, and the tension obvious in his face. But he takes a deep breath and says, “They’re here, in my science classroom.” “And can you tell me the gist of the matter?” “I… I… I had asked her daughter to not draw with crayons on the walls of the science classroom. And one time… I’d asked her daughter to bring more nutritious food to class instead of chips every single day.” He says softly, his eyes focused on the blue linoleum tiles on the floor. You take a deep breath. As you’ve grown more senior, you’ve eventually detached yourself from the classes of the youngest students, those below four years of age. So naturally, you’d not gotten into messes like this for a long time. But with your experience, you know just how to deal with such cases. 

So you excuse yourself from the office and walk down to Seokmin’s homeroom, gesturing him to enter as you both walk into the classroom. It is deserted, except for a very grim-looking gigantic woman standing next to a tiny girl with even tinier braids. “Good morning. I’m Y/L/N Y/N, Head of the Science Department.” “Yes, well, I’m hoping you’d be more competent about it all rather than Mr. Lee here.” 

You forcefully smile tightly and ask, “Please let me know the details of the matter.” “Where do I begin! Mr. Lee has been… very dictatorial with my daughter. First he forbids her from colouring, and then he forces her to starve herself! It’s absolutely ridiculous that a teacher can do such things!” Out of the corner of your eye, you see Seokmin shrink further away into the corner, his eyes wide. 

“Based on how well I know Mr. Lee, I can’t imagine him forcing a child to starve themselves. Correct me if I’m wrong, but did he ask her to bring a different set of food for lunch, rather than chips?” “Yes, but-” “And that was purely based on nutritional concerns, Ma’am. As teachers at Sebong Elementary School, we want to ensure our students receive proper nutrition at their growing age. And I can assure you that chips are not the most nutritious food your daughter can eat every day.” “I’m a working mother-” “I’m sure you can buy a fruit or toast a single slice of bread along with a slice of cheese along with the chips, if you’re so busy.” 

 The woman in front of you stands speechless for a second, before continuing in her boisterous tone, “But who are you to dictate what I feed my child?” “Nobody, truly. But Mr. Lee is a kindhearted man, who cares for every child in this school, and even his colleagues and peers like me. As a teacher, he has the best interest of his students in mind, you see.” “Certainly can’t be more than that of her mother.” “Of course, which is why I’d advise you too, as would any other paediatrician, that only chips is not the diet a four-year old child should be exposed to on a daily basis.” 

The woman takes a step back. Her grip on her daughter’s fingers loosen, and the child takes a step forward. “Miss, I really like the grapes Mr. Lee gave me the other day! That’s why I’ve stopped eating Eomma’s lunch!” She smiles at you, and you bend down on your knee to meet her at eye level. “Is that so? But darling, you should always eat what your mummy’s giving you. Good girls don’t skip meals, understood?” She nods her little head very seriously, so you pat her once on her head. Then you stand up again and look at her mother. “I see your daughter does enjoy eating grapes. Perhaps you could buy her some fruits for lunch.”

She tilts her head a little bit, looking fully like a kid who’s been punished for being too outspoken, and honestly you’re glad to have made that effect. Some people can be so entitled and so rude, and it leaves such a harsh impression on softer teachers like Seokmin. Which is exactly what you see when the parent does leave with her child a few minutes later, as the man, who hasn’t spoken a single word since entering the room, comes up to you gingerly. 

“Noona, thank you so much. I was so- so scared.” You smile at him as warmly as you can, “Please don’t be. It wasn’t your fault at all that some parents can misunderstand even the best intentions of teachers. It’s pretty common- as time goes on, people will just find more flaws, whether it be in your teaching skills or your child-handling skills. You just need to be less nervous when things like this happen. If you ever need help in these things, of course I’m always here… as are your other seniors. But it’s best if you learn to handle these things without taking them too much to your heart, unless you see there is genuine room for improvement for you.” He nods throughout, and his eyes have become round like a puppy’s eyes again. “I will introspect, Noona.” He laughs a bit, “This honestly isn’t the first time someone’s misunderstanding my intentions. But I will try harder to be more clear and not … not be presumptuous,” he says, looking deep into your eyes, before he bows and leaves the room.

As you stand there in the classroom, alone you realise that the situation oddly reminds you of a similar conversation you had with him at the beginning of the semester. When you’d asked him to keep his distance and not interfere … all while, he was just trying to be kind. Oh god. You’d been just as rude as the parent had been today, hadn’t you? Oh dear god. No wonder he’d looked so downcast and rejected after that.

_

Sohee’s thousand-day anniversary at the school is coming up so Minseo’s put on a surprise party at her house. It’s not a surprise to just Sohee, but also to you. “Oh, why didn’t you let me know earlier, Minseo-yah?” “We would, but you’ve just been so busy with the end of term reports and grades that we didn’t want to bother you.” “Well, that’s not something only I’m doing. I’m sure you all were busy too.” “But none of us are head of departments, you know?” She giggles, and you know it’s not a jibe. But it still feels bad to not be able to contribute when everyone is contributing in some way or the other. 

So you order a six-pound blueberry cheesecake for the party, knowing blueberry to be Sohee’s favourite flavour. And, as expected, it’s a party hit. It turns out to be the favourite flavour of a lot of people, even Seokmin, who helps himself to three slices, and you’re just glad to see them all enjoying it. There’s drinks, pizza and music playing in the background. And although the teacher community at Sebong Elementary School is not too big, you’re a lot of twenty-six people, and you’re thankful that Minseo comes from a rich family that has a big house. And yet, it feels cosy and familiar. You barely attend parties or social gatherings,  and unless it’s family occasions, having been out of the dating scene for years. But this type of party seems fun to you- perhaps it’s you growing old, perhaps it’s you no longer finding staying up late exciting, perhaps it’s you realising that getting wasted is not as interesting as you used to think it was in college. So you settle for being the woman who’s dressed in a sweater although it’s barely autumn, already mentally classified as a spinster for almost everyone you meet, thirty and with no life outside of work, and you’re happy. You’re happy right now, sipping a cocktail and eating the fried chicken Minseo’s airfrying and constantly supplying to the party, celebrating your closest friend, Sohee. You know that although Sohee’s a couple of months younger than you, and definitely has a more active love life, she’s just like you at heart, and she’s the sister you’ve never had. As she gets drunk (you can tell it’s the first time in a long time by the way she’s getting tipsy even faster than she usually does), she leans over to smooch you loudly on the cheek, and you laugh and give in to her. It creates a loud wave of cheers across the room, but it’s such a warm moment. She clinks her glass with yours and rests her head on your shoulder, while raising a toast to the teachers at Sebong Elementary School. There’s another round of cheers, and then your phone reminds you it’s ten pm, and you should be heading home because it’s a school day tomorrow. The buzz feels good, and you want to stay longer, but you’re not drunk enough to forget your responsibilities. And so the party gradually disperses. You hug Minseo and thank her for organising the wonderful party, and somehow Sohee manages to stand up on her feet steadily. Seungkwan takes the duty to drop Sohee home as he lives near her house, and before you can say anything, Seokmin takes on the responsibility of dropping you home. 

“I don’t want to impose-” “But I insist, Y/N Noona.” “Why do you always insist, Seokmin? I feel like I’m a burdensome sunbae, not a nice sunbae.” You try not to pout when he leads you to where his car is parked and opens the door for you. He giggles, his face red with the dopamine (and drinks) from the party. “You’re just fishing for compliments, Noona. You know I never think of taking care of you as a burden.” 

Perhaps drinking that third cocktail was a mistake. 

But you did drink it, so you lean over the centre console of the car and say, with a soft giggle, “If you say things like that, Seokmin-ah, people are going to misunderstand and think you like like me.”

“But I do like like you, Noona.” 

You almost miss his words while waving goodbye to the other teachers standing on the pavement in front of Minseo’s house, waiting for their rides. 

Almost. 

“What?” You spin your head so fast it gives you whiplash, and you feel like you’re instantly sober, the way you become alert instantly. Seokmin’s looking at the road as he drives into the main road, his eyes bright by reflecting the street lights. “I do, Noona.”

“No- no, you can’t. Are you serious, Seokmin-ah? Because if you are, you can’t.” 

“Why?” 

There’s a red light, and he’s looking at you, the street lights shining on his face and the gentle handsomeness of his features are glowing in their full glory. This isn’t the first time you’ve found him awe-strikingly beautiful, but right now, he looks positively angelic. His eyelashes form delicate shadows on his cheeks, and the way his hair gets swayed by the wind coming in from the open car windows makes him seem even prettier. 

“Because… you’re so… young. And fresh, and beautiful. And I’m thirty, I spend my days working and my nights reading romantic classics, and I’m so boring a-and you deserve better.”

His mouth twists bitterly, and he says, “But none of that is true, Noona.”

“It is, Seokmin-ah. You barely know me.”

“But I want to. I’m just asking for a chance.”

You stay silent for a long time. In the sparse traffic of the night, you’re reach your house quicker than you’d thought. 

“I don’t want you to make a mistake, Seokmin-ah. I shouldn’t be someone you like more than simply as a sunbae.”

He pauses, then replies, “If you don’t want to give me a chance, that’s okay Noona. I can make peace with it. But you can’t ask me to stop liking you, Noona. My feelings are mine.” 

You don’t say anything on the rest of the journey. You don’t have anything else to say. You can’t even be harsh to him because what he’s saying is logical. You cannot take away his right to like you, even if you don’t think it’s the right choice for him. You’re an adult, he’s an adult, you both have your own opinions and choices. 

It’s only when the car does reach your house that you attempt to say something. 

“I feel sorry for making you come all the way to my house to drop me. Do you want to come in to eat something? I had some dakgalbi made for tonight’s dinner before I got to know about the party.”

He looks at you for a long time. You can see the wheels turn in his head, before he says, “Okay.” 

_

Your flat is on the third floor, so you’re patiently climbing the stairs. Seokmin makes light conversation, breaking the ice, and you actively try to respond. You don’t want him to feel dejected, but you also don’t want to feel like you’re taking him to your house because you pity him after you outright rejected him. 

Your efforts go to waste when you see a figure sitting on the floor in front of the door to your apartment. 

“Hyungwon?” 

Seokmin pauses behind you, as you stand stunned on the last staircase before the landing, and the man you addressed looks up at the two of you. Even in the dim light of the single bulb lighting up the stairwell, you can see that he’s very wasted. “Y/N-ah! I- I’ve been waiting for you.”

“What are you doing here?”

“Oh, you haven’t changed, have you? Straight to the point. No hellos, no-”

“Yes, Hyungwon. What are you doing here?”

He sighs as he stands up. “I missed you.” 

Your head starts to spin. It’s like you’ve been transported back to 2022, when Hyungwon had confessed to you that he’d gambled away all your money, and that he’d been doing so for the last seven months, and that was where he was spending all his evenings at instead of the evening college you’d enrolled him into and whose fees you thought you’d been paying.

Your head spins again, and you’re stumbling back until someone catches you midway before you tumble down the stairs. 

“Noona!” that someone whispers in alarm in your ear, and you realise it’s Seokmin. 

Fuck. 

Fuck, fuck, fuck, not Seokmin. 

Why does Seokmin, out of all people, have to see this?

“Seokmin-ah, leave-”

“Ooh, who’s that?” Hyungwon takes a step closer, and takes a drink out of a soju bottle he’s holding in his left hand. “Boyfriend? You’re still into pretty boys, aren’t you?”

Seokmin pulls you closer to him, your back nearly touching his chest. “Who are you?”

“I’m Hyungwon, Y/N’s first love. You better get out of here, kid.”

“What do you want, Hyungwon? Don’t bullshit with me about missing me. No apology, no regrets, and now you’re suddenly at my doorstep?” You carefully break away from Seokmin’s gentle clasp, and walk towards your ex-boyfriend. “You want my money again.” The lanky man in front of you grins, that fucking lazy, pretty grin you’d fallen so hard for in college. 

“Y/N, where’s the love gone, jagi? Why are we talking about money?”

“Fuck off, Hyungwon. The love was gone long before I even broke up with you.”

He lifts his free hand and tries to reach out to you. “Jagiya-”

“I’m not your jagiya! Hyungwon, I’m not giving you anymore money, so you should just leave! And stop coming to me every time you want money, for god’s sake! We’re done, Hyungwon.” 

The man in front of you falls to his knees, “Please, I’m begging you, Y/N-ah! I’ll get into serious trouble if I don’t repay this debt by the end of this month! Y/N, for the sake of old times-”

“Hyungwon, please don’t! I’m not giving you any of my money, no matter how much you beg.”

His hand wraps around your leg, “Y/N-ah, please, just hear me out once! I am sorry for everything I did, and I’m so willing to amend my ways-”

“Please leave, Hyungwon-ssi, you’re making Noona uncomfortable.” Seokmin suddenly says from behind you, and you walk backward down the stairs until you’re again close enough to him that you can feel his body heat on your back. It makes you feel oddly safe.

“Who are you to say anything about Y/N, huh? You don’t even know her for long, I bet! Y/N and I dated for seven years!”

“It doesn’t matter how long I’ve known her, Hyungwon-ssi. What matters is that right now, she feels safe with me, and not around you. So please leave, Hyungwon-ssi.” You don’t even realise when his hands have come to wrap gently around you, not quite touching your body, but caging you away from the man who’s looking at you both with frantic and desperate eyes. You don’t know he knows that you’re feeling safe around him, but you’re so grateful. “If you don’t leave now, I’ll have to call the police, Hyungwon-ssi.”

The man in front of you gulps. “Fuck! I’ll be back, Y/N-ah. And then I’ll see where this boyfriend of yours will be!” And he storms down the stairs, cursing under his breath, and you’re still shaking in Seokmin’s grip. 

Five minutes pass before he asks you, gently whispering in your ear, “Are you okay?”

“Yes.” You slowly turn around and face him. You’re awfully close to him, and as you stand on the higher staircase, you’re eye-to-eye with him. “I’m so sorry you had to see that, Seokmin-ah.”

“No, Noona. I’m just upset thinking of what would happen if I hadn’t come up with you here tonight.”

“No, don’t be. He’s… harmless. He’s all talk and no action.”

“Has he been here before?”

You bite your lip. You don’t want to tell him things which will involve him deeper into this. He doesn’t know anything, he’s a complete stranger to it all, and yet, he is right, you do feel safe around him. But that doesn’t mean you burden him any further.

“Seokmin-ah, I don’t want you to get worried about this. I can take care of myself, it’s just Hyungwon. Like I said, he’s only bark and no bite.”

“Noona-”

“I’ll be fine, honestly! I’m sorry you had to see all this happen.” 

He opens his mouth to say something, but then he becomes silent again. 

“Do you want to come in-”

“No, Noona. I’ll just leave. I won’t take any more of your time. Have a good night, Noona.”

“Seokmin-ah, pl-”

“Goodnight, Noona. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

And then he walks away, and you’re left there, unarmed, uneasy and all alone, swimming in your own thoughts. You feel like you should run after him like in the movies, and stop him from leaving, but your legs feel like lead. There’s a sinking feeling in your heart and a sense of emergency, and it’s not because your ex-boyfriend came up to your door asking for money to waste again.

_

You don’t go to school the next day. The day after that is a Saturday, thankfully a holiday, and you can spend a day moping in regret, stuffing popcorn into your face and pretending like you’re not an adult anymore and you can live without worrying about responsibilities and keep time standing still. 

It doesn’t work. 

Sohee arrives to your door on Sunday morning, sunglasses perched on her head. “Where have you been, sweetie?” She doesn’t wait for you to respond and shoves herself into your flat. 

“Nowhere, Sohee.”

“You’re pouting, your bed isn’t made, and I can smell caramel popcorn. Something’s up. Tell me, baby.”

She sits down on the couch, pulling you down next to her, and taps twice on your shoulder prompting you to spill. So you do spill. 

You tell her every thought that has crossed your mind these last 48 hours. How Seokmin confessed that he likes you. How you’d turned him down instantly. How Hyungwon had turned up at your door and ruined the night after the party. How you’d practically shooed Seokmin away although he’d been nothing but protective and helpful to you. How you’d wallowed in regrets since then, having realised that you’re such a coward. 

“Yeah, you are a coward. In what right mind would you turn down Seokmin when you’re so down bad for him?”

“Huh?”

“Dummy. You can’t even realise your own feelings, and you act like you’re so mature. Age is truly just a number,” she sighs before digging into your bowl of popcorn. 

“I don’t… I don’t have feelings for Seokmin.”

“What makes you think so?”

“He’s… he’s just a hoobae.”

“So are Chan and Soonyoung and Seungkwan. Why do you always blush when you talk to Seokmin, even if it’s over something as mundane as lunch? Why do you so often go to his classroom and aid him in his lessons during your free periods, even though he doesn’t necessarily ask for it? Why do you talk more to him than to your other hoobaes?”

You stay silent for a second. 

“Y/N-ah, think carefully about this.”

“I shouldn’t think of him in this light… he’s so much younger.”

“You’re just three years older than him, Y/N! Stop acting like you’re so old!”

“But…”

“Oh fuck, this isn’t about age, is it? You feel like you’re going to be to him what Hyungwon became to you? Predatory?”

You’re left silent again. Sohee understands from your (lack of) actions, and jumps across the couch to hug you. “Oh, Y/N-ah. Stop beating yourself up for that. It’s been so, so long. Stop blaming yourself for something that’s not even your fault.” 

“But Seokmin deserves better, don’t you think?”

“And you deserve better than beating yourself over an ex like Hyungwon. You deserve a second chance at love too, baby.” She hugs you tightly, and you don’t know when tears have started rolling down your cheek.“I’m a coward, Sohee. I can’t get the courage to even accept my feelings.” “Then let Seokmin help you. Honestly, with the way he always looks at you like you spin his earth and you’re his god, I don’t think he’ll have any issues waiting for you to realise your feelings.” You blush and hide your face in her neck at her sly words. She’s too outspoken for her own good. 

“What if it’s just a crush for him, that’ll pass soon? There’s not much about me that will keep him interested in me after a few months.”

“You’ve got to stop being so pessimistic. Again, just because one guy was stupid and decided to rip off your hard-earned money and your blind trust in him, doesn’t mean another guy will! I’ll say it again, you deserve a second chance!”

The doorbell rings right then. You get up to open the door, to find a letter on the doormat. 

“It’s from the local police station.” You pick it up and show Sohee, who’s equally confounded as you are. “Well, open it, girl!” 

It’s a letter stating a level one restraining order has been requested for your protection against Chae Hyungwon, who has repeatedly disturbed you while drunk, and demanded money for illegal gambling purposes. 

And the request has been made from Lee Seokmin.

“So you just have to sign it and that’s it? Hyungwon out from your life forever?”

You nod, unable to reply, you’re still shocked by the letter. So is Sohee, it seems. Because all she can manage is, “Wow. Y/N, you’ve gotta marry him.”

“Who?!”

“Seokmin, of course. If this is his level of devotion-”

“You don’t think this was unnecessary?”

“Y/N, are you for real? He’s literally looking out for you and doing what you should’ve done ages back, and you think he’s overstepping boundaries? He’s one gem of a person seeing that he’s doing all this without even you prompting him and even after you literally rejected his confession.”

You take a deep breath. She’s right. She’s so right that your heart hurts and you want to bend down on your knees because your body feels limp. How much more does Seokmin have to give you for you to be able to start giving back to him? One voice in your head chastises you. Love isn’t quid pro quo! You fight back. Fair. But at least you’ve started admitting it is love. The voice laughs at you, leaving you vulnerable. 

“Well, he said yes.”

“What?” You spin your head to look at Sohee who’s holding your phone in her hand. 

“Seokmin. He said he’ll meet you at the park near school. In about an hour.”

“Did you just text him from my phone?”

“I did, for your own good. Because if it were up to you, you would have overthought yourself into a hole you’d dig for yourself and not made a move at all even when he’s literally played all his cards and proved his commitment.”

“Aishh, you’re so annoying,” you playfully shove her. 

“Your annoying friend just wants to see you happy,” she pouts cutely, and you laugh at the face she’s making. 

“Okay, now go get dressed. You have to finish this game now, Y/N. I’ll drop you to the park.”

_

When Sohee drops you a little far away from the park, kissing your forehead and wishing you fighting!, you find Seokmin already sitting on a bench on a relatively empty side of the park. He looks up at you as you get closer, and you wave at him. You feel so timid, so nervous, just walking up to him, his handsomeness hitting you with full force as you see him in more casual clothes than ever before, knowing that this man, this beautiful man likes you. And he wants you, and he’s proved how far he can go to care for you, even when you’ve rejected his care.

“Noona, how are you? We were worried after you called your day off on Friday.”

“I’m sorry… I wasn’t sick or anything.” You laugh awkwardly. “Just, taking some time to ponder over things myself.”

“Oh.” He sits down on the bench, the loose end of his checked shirt gently swaying in the breeze. 

“And I regret how I acted that night. I’m sorry for being so harsh-” he starts to say something, but you gently put a finger on his hand, and that makes him shush. “I’m not just talking about Thursday night. I’ve been harsh to you ever since the beginning of the year. You’ve been nothing but kind and generous to me. But… time has made me unnaturally wary and I find it so hard to accept attention or even kindness easily. Thus, time and again I’ve pushed you away, yet you’ve kept coming back. It’s true that I didn’t realise your intentions earlier, but I know, deep down in my heart, that I’ve liked you too for quite some time.”

His eyes are wide, and you move an inch closer to him on the bench.

“I thought it was silly, to have a crush on a man so obviously young like you. I’m thirty now, turning thirty-one in a few weeks. I’ll always be older than you, less energetic, more boring and to be honest, I think it’s not even age but just experience which has made me like this. And I denied myself your attention because I thought you deserved better. And I still do. You sent a restraining request to the police on my ex-boyfriend on my behalf. You… you’ve gone out of your way so many times, even when I’ve been so harsh with you. You’re the one who’s precious, you’re made out of stardust. I’m just a broccoli that’s stacked in the corner of the fridge because no one wanted to eat me when I was fresh and no one should eat me now because now I’m stale.”

“That’s a ridiculous comparison. Even Soonyoung comparing himself to a tiger is better than you comparing yourself to a broccoli.” He finally says, and you laugh before you realise it. 

“Stop calling yourself old, Noona. Three years of an age difference isn’t a big deal. If the reason you’re holding yourself back is Hyungwon-ssi…”

“It is, I won’t lie. Hyungwon and I started dating when we were in college. We were so good, for so long. Until the pandemic came and took his job. That’s when he started getting into these bad habits. He took to gambling, and to stop him, I enrolled him into an evening college, hoping he’d get more productive and use the time we were stuck at home to get himself more educated and get a better job soon. It turned out he was wasting all my money on gambling, again. Every fees I’d paid to him had actually gone down the drain at a local club. And he even had the audacity to refuse me when I told him I want to break up with him.”

“Well, but he eventually did. That didn’t stop him from coming to my doorstep ever three or four months, asking for cash. Sometimes I’d drive him away, sometimes I’d give in if I was too tired to argue with him and if he was sober and dangerous.”

“Would you have given him money that night… had I not been there?”

You look down at your hands in shame. “I may have. I don’t know.”

“Do you still have feelings for him, Noona? It’s okay if you do have feelings, you know.”

“God, no. I don’t have feelings for him. It’s just that… we were together for seven years. We’ve grown up together. Seeing him in a pitiful state like that makes me sad. And I hope each time, that this will be the last time he’s at my door asking for money.” You look away, too ashamed to look at Seokmin. But he uses a hand to gently grip your chin and turn your head towards him. 

“You’re too kind for your own good, Noona.” You blush at the proximity, and the gentle way he’s touching your face. “This is why I like you. Because you’re so human in a world where everyone is plastic. I don’t like you because you’re a sunbae I want to impress. I don’t like you because boys like me find older women hot. Well, I do find you hot-”

“Seokmin!” You haven’t heard someone call you hot in so long, and it makes your skin burn. 

He giggles, and slowly flattens his palm to cup your cheek. 

“I think the restraining order should do the trick, then. He’ll not harass you any longer.”

“Thank you. You’ve been brave when I’ve been a coward.”

“That’s what makes us a good team, Noona.” 

You finally make eye contact with him, gazing into his doe-like brown eyes which are crinkled at the edges with a hint of a smile and wide with hope. 

“Your eyes are so pretty, Seokmin-ah. Just like the rest of you. Especially your heart.”

“It’s pretty because it belongs to you, Noona.”

You blush harder, and turn your face away from him. “I’ll not like you any more if you’re cheesy like this.”

“But it feels good to make you blush like this. How dare you compare yourself to a broccoli, huh? You have no idea what you do to me- when you enter any room, you light it up with your aura, you make it so much warmer, so much brighter. And then a fucking broccoli?”

“Stop! I didn’t mean it to be so deep. It’s just what I ate for lunch because that’s all I had in my fridge.” He giggles again, and you giggle along with him. You realise you’ve both moved closer to each other on the bench, until your thighs are touching. 

“Then you’ve got to have lunch again. No one should exist by eating just broccoli.” 

“With you?”

“If you’d like that.” He cups your other cheek with another hand, and you can feel your skin on fire. His eyes are gently inching towards your lips so you slowly close your eyes. “If you’re going to kiss me, know that I don’t have much experience in that. I’ll be your hoobae in that regard, sunbae.” You hear a soft giggle, and the kiss doesn’t arrive, so you open your eyes again, just to see him blush all over. “God, you’re so pretty, Noona. I could look at you all day.”

“How about you tell me when you started liking me?”

“Umm, I think that time you came to eat lunch with us for the first time? I think it all started with me just trying to get you to eat meals on time. Good girls don’t skip meals, as I heard someone once say,” you playfully hit his chest lightly, and he laughs. “I don’t know, maybe it was before that. But that afternoon, I realised my crush on you was so serious. I was getting tingly all over every time our shoulders touched.”

“Oh! Well, thank goodness it wasn’t just me.”

“Really? From so long ago? Oh, Noona, if you’d just told me earlier…”

“Shh!” You giggle, “I didn’t even realise anything. I was just desperate to get you to forgive me.”

“But I was never angry at you. I could never be.”

You smile again, and he pulls you closer until your entire body is touching him. “So are you giving me a chance, Noona?” 

“Yes. I like you, Lee Seokmin, and I’m still shocked that you like me, after everything you’ve had to see.”

“Well, I do. I like you so much that I might be seeing stars over your head every time you come into my line of sight.”

You giggle again, your insides turning to mush. “Will you be my girlfriend, Y/N Noona?” His voice is, oh, so soft, like a melody. And his eyes so earnest, like an autumn leaf. “I’d be very honoured to, Seokmin-ah.” “May I kiss you?” You feel yourself getting red with anticipation as you quietly nod your consent. 

And so he kisses you. Like your very own Prince Charming, he kisses you, one hand on the back of your neck, and the other cupping onto your cheek, first gentle and slow, and then a little more passionate, as you pull him closer by holding on to his slender waist. “Fuck, Noona. You taste so sweet,” he says while taking a breath, and then attacks your face all over by placing tiny pecks all over your nose, cheeks and forehead. “I like you so much, I think I might die from it.” You laugh once again at his words, unable to say anything else because he’s effectively shut you up through his incessant kisses. When he finally moves his face away from yours, his 1000 watt signature smile bright on his face, you say to him, “Not before we have lunch together, though.”

a/n: read the stories of the other three boys here! lmk your thoughts <3

tagging: kokoiinuts

[iwoulddieforienzo]

Something I really appreciate about TOA that I don’t see get talked about much is that I never get the sense that Apollo finds Lester ugly.

For all that he complains about the body he’s stuck in, I never got the feeling that it came from a distaste for Lester himself. When he sees Lester’s traits reflected in others, like Meg being chunky, he is completely unaffected by it. Finds it charming, even. (In fact, the only times I can remember him having Opinions about how someone looks is when they’ve chosen something about their appearance that he either approves or disapproves of, like a tacky jacket/hair cut or when he finds someone attractive. The only time I can remember him calling anybody ugly was when he pointed out that Dionysus was choosing to look as ugly as possible to piss of Zeus, which is a statement of fact and doesn’t necessarily mean he thinks that Dionysus’ form is actually ugly. He makes no mention of finding it so before or after that line. It’s a statement of fact that Dionysus is choosing a form that either he or Zeus finds ugly to piss of their dad.)

The thing about Lester is that he is so devastatingly mortal. He has flab and acne and no upper body strength and his voice squeaks when he’s nervous and he sweats a lot and he has a silly name and messy, curly hair that’s impossible to tame. He is the Most Teenager To Ever. There is no godly blood running through his veins, no powers he can call upon. If Apollo were to run into him in the street, I don’t think he’d pay him much mind. He’d probably just think, “sweet kid”, and move on. If he got to know him, I think Apollo would adore him because that’s just who rrverse!Apollo is. He loves mortals despite himself, flaws and all. He’d argue against anything bad Lester had to say about his own appearance and mean every word.

The problem is that it’s Apollo in this body. Apollo, The Golden Child, the perfect son, a God. His distaste for this body is because Lester is so devastatingly mortal and imperfect. Apollo has to be perfect, he has to be shiny and pretty and strong because he has nothing else to offer otherwise.

And.. I dunno, there’s something about Apollo hating the things that draw him to others when it’s him. The flaws that he tears apart in himself he finds endlessly charming on others, or he thinks that they have better reasons for why they have them, or he thinks they have enough positive traits to counteract them. The positive things that he hides deep enough that even the reader can’t see right away, like his kindness and genuine desire to understand and connect with everyone around him, that he’s shocked to find directed at him in turn.

That Apollo accepting himself and reclaiming his personhood leads to him being comfortable with being Lester, imperfect and mortal as he is. That he takes that imperfection back with him to Olympus… I dunno man I’m Emotional. Also it’s just plain nice that Lester is never treated as ugly for looking like a normal ass teenager, even by the guy stuck in this body. That’s neat.

Or maybe I’m just rambling and this means nothing at all and I’m reading too far into Blorbo from my books.

[seeingivy]

daylight

eren x f!reader

**part of my method acting series

an: someone on ao3 requested so lowkey I had to do it again

--

“Hey? Are you going to wear the blue or the green?” 

Eren’s voice is distant, but out of extra precaution, you still slam the lid of the toilet shut, shaky hands pulling the lever as you push up off your knees. You close the door shut behind you, quick to spray the room with the closest perfume as Eren walks in, his hair still damp from his shower, the drops glistening on his bare neck. 

“Green, Eren. Why?” 

“I was going to iron it for you. Are you feeling any better, sweetheart?” Eren asks, as he sniffs the air. 

You shake your head, washing your hands in the sink as Eren loops his arms around your waist, leaning down as he rests his cheek against yours. You try to swallow down the disgusting taste of bile and give him a smile in the mirror, trying to focus on the sweet smell of his shampoo instead. 

“No.” you respond. 

“Are you trying to hide that fact that you threw up, again, by spraying a bunch of my perfume?” Eren asks. 

“I’ll buy you a new one.” you respond. 

Eren rolls his eyes. 

“I don’t know what I should be more offended about. That you feel like you can’t tell me you’re not feeling well or that you think I care more about the perfume than you.” Eren responds. 

You look at Eren in the mirror, turning to the side to press a kiss to his cheek. 

“I’m sorry. I just want to make sure that you go to the party and have fun. I don’t want you to worry about me.” you respond. 

You take a beat. 

“And I mean, Sukuna would take ten years off of my life if I didn’t come to Grace’s birthday party, so I’m going to go anyway. I know that she’s been looking forward to this.” you respond. 

It had been two weeks since Grace realized. And three since you saw her, because you were in New York attending Falco’s Madison Square Garden shows. 

Since Grace was born, she always had a penchant for theatrics. Doing little fashion shows for Sukuna and Lana, making choreographed dances with Teddy, and most of all – performing all of her favorite songs for everyone at dinner. 

And it was all well and good, because Grace had yet to realize that her Auntie Y/N was the same person as her favorite singer-songwriter Y/N L/N. She had only ever heard them all refer to you by your first name and she preferred all of your older songs – which let it basically slide under the radar, since those were so long ago. 

You all decided it would be for the best to let her figure it out on her own. Which she did, when she watched an old performance of you and Eren singing New Year’s Day and was able to recognize Eren right away. Almost every day for the past three weeks, you’d get three phone calls – two from Sukuna and one from Lana – begging you to come back as fast as you could, because she was getting antsy. 

“I mean, that’s true. She even prepared a little dance for you. But if you don’t feel well, I don’t want you to push through it just to go to the party. You can always see her when you’re feeling better.” Eren adds. 

“No, no. It’s fine.” 

Eren reaches for the bottom drawer, pulling out one of the boxes at the bottom, and places it in front of you. He’s quick with it – digging through the box for one of the white, lacy ribbons – and sets it out. 

It had been years since you even wore one. 

“Eren.” 

“You know she’s going to want to see you wear it.” he responds. 

You sigh, giving Eren a nod, as he gives you a smile. You turn around, Eren’s hands soft through the strands of your hair as he brushes through the knots. He laces the ribbon in through your hair, a well seasoned professional at this point, as you slide the stacks of rings on your fingers. 

“Can you believe Grace’s turning four?” Eren whispers. 

Eren gives your head a little tap, signaling for you to turn around, as you reach up and wrap your fingers together behind his neck. 

This would be the perfect time to mention it. The perfect segway into telling him that you’ve thrown up three times in a row, that you’re craving weird things, and that your period is two weeks late. 

“No. I can’t even believe that Teddy’s almost eleven. I feel like all the kids are growing up.” you respond. 

You choke. 

Eren gives you a bright smile, before leaning down and pressing a kiss to your cheek. 

“Doesn’t that make you nervous?” Eren asks. 

You pause. 

“Make me nervous?” 

“I mean, about Teddy. Being eleven. He’s obviously not our kid, but…” 

“He’s your godson. And you were there when he was growing up. You do know it’s fine if you feel that way right?” 

Eren sighs. 

“He’s going to go to middle school. Aren’t kids in middle school like…evil?” 

You glare at him. 

“You didn’t even go to middle school. How would you know?” you deadpan. 

Eren rolls his eyes. 

“But you did. And you hated it, so.” Eren responds. 

You shake your head, reaching forward to push through the ends of his hair. Eren was letting it get close to the longer side, for an upcoming role that he had. 

“I didn’t hate it. Sometimes, I get really nostalgic about all that stuff. Like the first day of school  was always exciting and eating breakfast with Falco and Colt every morning was fun. We used to take a picture with one of those corny chalkboards every year.” you murmur. 

Eren sighs. 

“I know, I’ve seen the pictures. But I guess it’s just weird to think about him getting older and…and all the stuff that comes with that. What if he gets a girlfriend? What if she breaks his heart or something?” Eren whispers. 

“You don’t have to be so cynical. They could just have a whole like twenty year love story or something. I don’t know, I think that type of stuff is cool.” you respond. 

Eren smiles. 

“Give me a second to iron and then you can get dressed. I’m just glad we don’t have to worry about that thing right now.” Eren responds, giving you one kiss on the cheek, before pacing out of the room. 

You reach for the closest drawer, pulling open the pack of your birth control, and counting backwards again, for the fifth time. 

You were still two weeks late. 

And that was something Eren’s glad he didn’t have to worry about. 

--

Grace’s birthday party is in full flesh by the time that the two of you arrive, with Sukuna very aggressively managing a pinata with a group of children around him, and Lana refilling drinks at the table. 

Though at the sight of the two of you, they both drop everything they’re doing, both stalking over to where the two of you are standing at the door. Eren squeezes your hand as they walk up, excited smiles on both of their faces. 

You already know what this is about. 

“Don’t look too excited, Sukuna. I might get confused and think you’re happy to see me.” you joke. 

Sukuna rolls his eyes, as Lana leans forward, giving you a kiss on the cheek. Her hands are soft on your cheeks, giving you a little pinch as she leans forward. 

“You’re like glowing. What gives?” 

“What?” 

“You look amazing. All full in the face, it’s adorable.” Lana responds. 

That’s what you thought about her when she was pregnant with Grace. Eren looks down, eyes almost curious, as you shake your head. 

“Oh. No, I’m actually like…like really nauseous. Super bloated. It’s kind of disgusting.” 

Lana frowns. 

“Oh, ew. Okay, well, are you feeling up to seeing Grace? She’s really excited.” Lana responds. 

“You can’t say no.” Sukuna adds. 

You smile. 

“I’ll always feel up to that. Where is she?” 

“She was just using the bathroom. I think she’s inside.” 

Lana and Eren walk in step in front of you, Sukuna trailing at your side, as you walk into the cold air conditioned room of the house. Sukuna gives you a nudge in the side, eyes narrowed as he looks at you. You shake him off as you speed up to Eren and Lana. 

You knew that Sukuna would one, be able to figure out that you were hiding something, and two, get it out of you. 

And he would want you to tell Eren right away, make up some whole long winded story about how you needed to be honest with him, that no one’s ever really ready for kids, that you had been married for so long and such. 

You catch sight of Grace immediately, pink hair sticking out of the crowd as she tries to reach lemonade out of her grasp on the counter. Eren beats her to it, lifting the glass off the ledge and crouching down to hand it to her, which almost distracts her completely. 

“Eren!” 

You watch as Grace all but jumps up into Eren’s arms, tiny little arms curled around his neck as he returns the gesture – one of the sweetest smiles you’ve ever seen on his face as he lifts her up. Lana’s quick to join his side, her head nestled on his shoulder, as she reaches forward and fixes Gracie’s almost matted bangs. 

“That’s Uncle Eren.” Lana deadpans. 

Eren shakes his head. 

“You can call me Eren. But it’ll be our secret, so don’t tell…” 

Lana turns to you, rolling her eyes, as you walk up to the two of them, an almost nervous warmth in your throat as you tap her on the shoulder and muster your best smile for her. 

“Hi Gracie. Happy birthday, pretty girl.” 

At the sight of you she seems to get a little shy you suppose, because her cheeks turn bright red and she hides her face in Eren’s shoulder. Eren looks at you, his face nearly melting at the gesture, as he leans down, whispering in her ear. 

“Gracie. Aren’t you so excited to see, Y/N? Isn’t she so pretty?” 

She doesn’t respond, instead nodding against his shoulder, as he fights the urge to laugh. 

“You know that Y/N has a surprise for you?��

“She does?”

It’s enough to pique Grace’s curiosity, and maybe more importantly, enough to temper her nervousness – despite the fact that you’ve seen her almost every Friday since she was born, that she’s slept in her bed next to you multiple times – as she peeks her head out, bright brown eyes staring at yours as she expectantly waits for an answer. 

“Two things. First, I have this for you.” you start. 

You take the little gift-wrapped box out of your purse and hand it to Grace, who wastes no time in handing it right back to Lana to open. Lana’s gentle with the box, pulling out the little set of purple ribbons, and holding them out to her. Sukuna gives you a smile, almost entirely thankful, as you shake your head at him. 

It’s nothing. 

“These were mine. But I’m going to give them to you, to keep safe for me, okay?” 

Lana hands the bows over to Grace, who almost excitedly holds them close to her chest, as you lean forward and pinch at her cheek. That earns you a kiss on the cheek from Eren, who gestures for you to give her the next one. 

“The second thing.” 

You pause. 

“I know you like to listen to my music and sing it sometimes, so I was wondering if you wanted to sing a song with me? We can pick any song that you like.” 

Grace’s eyes go wide. 

“Really?” 

“Yeah. Any song you want, okay?” 

Grace ponders the thought, taking almost a minute of silence before she comes up with an answer. 

“I want to sing Death of a Bachelor.” 

“What?” Eren asks. 

You feel your throat dry and watch Eren’s face drop, in instant irritation. 

Of course she wanted to sing the one song that you wrote about Ricky. Or fake wrote about Ricky. 

You look up at Eren, who’s already shooting bullets into your face with his eyes. 

You can’t sing that, he mouths. 

You glare at him. 

It’s her birthday, you mouth back. 

You turn back to Grace, her eyes expectant as she waits, and you give her a peachy smile. 

“Sure thing. Do you want to sing it on the piano, Gracie?” 

Gracie pauses, before lifting one of her hands and beckoning you to come closer. You give Eren a weird look but oblige, the three of your heads almost pressed together in a circle – intentionally leaving Lana and Sukuna out – as she whispers. 

“Daddy told me to suggest that in front of Eren. But can we sing something else instead? I don’t really like that song.” 

You watch Eren’s eye twitch, as he all but hands you Grace, and stalks over to Sukuna. You watch Eren shove him once – and Sukuna laughing very gleefully – as you roll your eyes and focus back on Grace. 

“Did you find that funny?” you ask. 

“No. But Daddy’s never really funny. Mommy told us we should all pretend to laugh so we don’t hurt his feelings.” 

You watch as Sukuna’s face drops – and maybe more importantly, that Eren smiles and shoves Sukuna again. You turn to Eren, giving him a wink, before Gracie taps on your shoulder, and whispers in your ear. 

You give her a nod, as Lana, Eren, and Sukuna turn to you, waiting for an answer. 

“What are you singing?” Lana asks. 

You turn to Gracie, who shrugs. 

“You have to wait till we perform it, Mommy. That’s a secret.” 

--

Almost three hours later – and one very weird craving for peanut butter and spicy popcorn – the party died down to the very last of you all. You can see them all lingering downstairs from the guest bedrooms upstairs, Connie and Grace having a very animated conversation near the fireplace as he braids her hair and Eren and Teddy eating the leftover candy from the pinata. 

You can see Lana all the way on the right, getting ready to surprise Grace with a new baby acoustic guitar, as you press your forehead against the glass. And it takes all but three seconds before you hear quiet footsteps behind you. 

“What’s your problem?” Sukuna asks. 

You groan. 

“I’ve been sick for a few days. I was just taking a breather before I have to sing my little song with Gracie.” 

Sukuna hums in response and you watch the slow smile spread across his face at your side as he eyes Connie and Grace, before turning back to you. 

“Right. But besides your weird stomach bug. What’s your problem?” Sukuna asks. 

“I don’t have a problem.” 

“You keep staring at both of my kids with weird bug eyes. And you’re starting to kind of freak Teddy out.” 

“Really?” 

“No, but stop looking at him like that. You’re weirding me out.” 

You sigh, before turning over to him, and placing your hands flat on his shoulders. You squeeze as hard as you can – which Sukuna seems irritated at – as you lean closer to him. 

He would be the right person to tell. Maybe the only person who would ever give it to you straight. 

“If I tell you, will you promise not to tell anyone?” 

Sukuna gives you a theatrical nod, irritated, as he gestures for you to continue. 

“I think I’m pregnant. And I don’t know what I’m going to do. I’ve been throwing up for three days, my period is two weeks late, and I just ate the Takis in your pantry with peanut butter.” you state. 

Sukuna frowns. 

“You ate my food?”

You smack him. 

“Be serious. What am I supposed to do, Sukuna?” you whisper. 

“Are you a dipshit? Have the baby?” 

“I mean, yeah. Obviously, I’d have the baby, but like…it’s a whole thing. I don’t think Eren wants it.” 

Sukuna pauses. 

“I know we always joke that we’re like brother and sister, but I really wish we actually were right now so I could slap you without feeling bad about it.” 

You glare. 

“You really think Eren doesn’t want a baby? That he doesn’t want to have a baby with you?” Sukuna asks. 

“I mean, obviously he does. I’m his wife and all but that doesn’t mean he wants one right now.”

Sukuna glares.

“Earlier today, we were talking about how old Gracie is getting and how Teddy’s going to middle school. And he was saying that he was all nervous that Teddy was going to middle school and getting his heart broken and he was just…glad that we don’t have to worry about that right now. Having kids and worrying about getting their feelings hurt. That we don’t have that responsibility.”  

Sukuna sighs. 

“That doesn’t mean he doesn’t want to have kids with you. Or that he won’t be excited when you tell him.” 

You frown. 

“Doesn’t it? He’s scared. He’s glad that Teddy isn’t his son, since he’s not responsible for all that. And…I just…” 

Sukuna leans forward, placing both of his hands on your cheeks, before he squeezes so hard that you can barely get a word out. 

It was something that he did often. Obstruct you from talking so he didn’t have to hear your nonsense, in his very succinct words. 

“Did it ever occur to you that you’re projecting onto one small thing that Eren said because you’re scared to have a baby? He may have said that today, but you’ve clearly been having suspicions for at least a week. There was obviously a reason that you didn’t tell him the first second you realized.” 

You swallow hard. 

“Did you even take a test?” 

“No.” 

“Is it because you’re scared that it’s going to be positive? That you’ll really have to consider what to do after that?” 

You don’t respond. And that's enough of an answer for Sukuna. 

“Are you that really scared that you’re going to be a bad mom?” Sukuna asks. 

You pause. And maybe it’s hearing your exact fear being said out loud – from someone you love so much – that it sends tears sprouting into your eyes, and has him pulling you close, his hands rubbing up and down your back. 

“Eren’s just so good with kids. They all fucking adore him and…and I know they love me too, but it’s not the same. He’s going to be a natural. Teddy doesn’t love him for no reason and…and Olivia literally calls Eren almost every night.”

“Kids love you too. You know you’re like…my daughter’s idol, right?” 

You frown. 

“That doesn’t mean I’ll be a good mom. That doesn’t mean that I’ll be able to keep up with Eren. That I won’t let him…and my kids down.” 

Sukuna takes a beat, almost like he’s thinking, before he responds. 

“There’s nothing I can say to you that’ll convince you that Eren’s on board with this thing.” 

You frown. 

“I know.” 

“But you know those letters that Eren used to write? To the Institute about the triple threat thing?” 

You pause. 

“Yeah?” 

“Look for one from New Year’s Eve, maybe your twenty-second or twenty-third birthday. It should be one of those.” 

“What?” 

“Your answer to your stupid questions will be there. There’s no one better to tell you what you need to hear than him. And luckily enough for you, your dumbass doesn’t even have to ask him.” 

You reach up, wiping the snot from your nose, before looking up at him. 

“Really?” 

“Really.” 

“How do you know?” 

Sukuna pauses. 

“Lana told me what he wrote once. When we were talking about how sad he was. How much he loved you. Your answer will be right there, trust me.” 

Sukuna pauses. 

“And we used to make fun of him after the fact for how serious all of those letters was. He was fully unloading all of his feelings onto some poor intern.” 

You laugh, as Sukuna reaches forward, wiping the last of the wetness away from your cheeks, as he gives you one last tap on the head. 

“Now tell me what song you’re singing with my daughter. You’re both pissing me off.” 

You smile. 

“She wants me to sing Daylight. It’s her favorite because she knows it’s about her Mommy and Daddy.” 

Sukuna glares. 

“You didn’t even write that song. Eren did.” 

You shrug. 

“What she doesn’t know won’t hurt her.” 

Sukuna sends you home with a gift in your purse – a box of pregnancy tests – and gives you a very unserious ultimatum to tell him by Friday. 

--

When you get home, you all but bolt to the closet, digging out the little box of the letters that Eren had written, as he slowly trails behind, distracted as he washes his face in the sink nearby. You almost topple over trying to get the box, which catches Eren’s attention, as you try to hide it in the dark of the closet. 

“What are you doing?” 

“Nothing, Eren. Just looking for…something.” 

Eren pauses. 

“You’re looking for something? What is it?” 

You bite your cheek, ignoring the question as you file quickly through the letters, counting backwards to your twenty-second birthday. You quickly open up the letter, pulling it out of it’s envelope, as you glance over Eren’s messy handwriting in the dim light. 

Dear The Institute,  (Please tell me the name of your intern.)  You guys know those stupid posts that you guys make on your Twitter? Wishing happy birthday to all the past triple threats?  You should already be making one for Y/N. You’re years behind at this point, because she’s well and enough proved herself time and time again.  See: happiness  See: Attack on Titan Seasons 1-3 See: New Year’s Day See: any song she’s ever written, any show she’s ever acted in, any dance that she’s ever done  fsalfjdsklajfldafdsfs Plus, it’ll be a cool marketing thing in the future, when one of her children in the future is a triple threat. It’ll be a whole generation of triple threats.  Anyways, it’s her birthday. You will hear from me again next year.  Best,  Eren Jaeger 

Eren switches the light of the closet on, hovering over you before he joins you on the carpeted floor, as you look over at him, and hold out the paper to him. 

“Why are you reading these?” Eren asks. 

“What’s the part that you crossed out?” 

“Huh?” Eren asks. 

“There’s a part that you crossed out. What was it?” 

That had to be what Sukuna was talking about, because the line following right after was about children. 

Eren takes the letter from your hands, hiking his knees close to his chest as he reads it, and nods. 

“Oh, yeah. I wrote the part underneath basically, but I wrote something like it’ll be cool when our child becomes a triple threat, since at that point, we were both already Institute affiliated actors. And the statement insinuates that you would be a triple threat, so our kid and you being a triple threat would be cool. Since it would be generational or whatever.” Eren responds, handing it back to you. 

You pause. 

This was your time to ask. But you still don’t. 

“I erased it. It’s insane to say that you’re going to have a kid with your ex-girlfriend who hates you, obviously.” 

You laugh. 

“You used to think about that? I mean…do you still?” you ask. 

“I mean, I doubt they’re ever going to give you a triple threat now since they blacklisted you, but you know, who gives a fuck? Our kids don’t need a stupid fucking trophy to know that they’ll be talented or make something worthwhile. They’ll be great on their own.” 

You swallow hard. 

“You think about kids? Like…our kids?” 

Eren looks over at you. 

The premise itself sends a two dimpled smile on Eren's face as he leans against the drawers, gesturing for you to scoot closer to him in the cramped closet. 

“Are you crazy? Of course, I do. All the time, sweetheart.” 

“So you want kids? Because I think we might be having one right now and well, I’m not sure, but I was scared that you didn’t want it because things were good and all that stuff, but I wasn’t really I was just projection because I thought I was going to be a bad mom so I just figured that…” 

Eren cuts you off. 

“You think we’re having one right now?” 

You shrug. 

“You think we’re having a baby? Right now?” Eren asks again, waiting for clarification. 

“I haven’t had my period in two weeks.” you whisper. 

Eren’s eyes widen. 

“Y/N.” 

“I have a test. Sukuna gave it to me, I just have to do it.” 

Eren shoots up, almost yanking you up off the ground, as you reach for your purse, pulling out the little pink box. Eren parrots the instructions to you and you follow dutifully – peeing on the stick, pulling open the plastic – and placing it face down on the counter when you’re done. 

“We have to wait two minutes.” Eren whispers. 

Eren sets a timer and you both stand there in silence – staring down at the stick. Eren seems almost more nervous than you, hands itching as he keeps readjusting the way it’s sitting on the counter. 

“We should both turn around.” you murmur. 

“Yeah, yeah. Okay.” 

You and Eren turn your backs to the counter, nearly teetering on your heels as you interlock your fingers together, the two of you both shaking on the side. 

Eren squeezes your hand three times. And you do it back. 

“Should we call my mom?” 

“No. We shouldn’t call, Carla. She’s going to be sad if it’s not real.” 

“Falco? Gabi? Connie?” 

You squeeze his hand. 

“Eren. Falco and Gabi are sleeping. And Connie’s probably tired, you know he’s not feeling well lately.” 

Eren pauses. 

“Should I kiss you?” Eren asks. 

“What?” 

“I don’t know! I feel like my entire life is about to change and…and yours is too and I just want to kiss you.” 

You laugh. 

“You’re so weird. If you want to kiss me, just kiss me.” 

Eren leans over, placing a very quick kiss to your forehead. You can’t help but turn over and glare. 

“That was anti-climactic.” 

“I kissed you!” 

“I was expecting some big life changing kiss. You’re over here just kissing me on the forehead.” 

Eren rolls his eyes. 

“Just kissing you on the forehead? You love that.” 

You turn over to him, leaning forward to kiss him on the cheek. 

“Okay, okay fine. I do love that. And I do love you, that’s….that’s my big climactic moment before we check.” 

Eren smiles. 

“You love me?” he asks. 

You shove him. 

“Obviously I love you.” 

Eren grins. 

“I love you too. Is it time?” Eren asks. 

“Ten seconds.” you respond. 

Eren’s impatient – so impatient that he doesn’t wait for the last ten as he picks up the stick – looking down at the result. And he’s just as fast, dropping it onto the floor, and cupping the sides of your face as he leans forward, nearly throwing you off your balance as he presses his lips to yours. 

That can only mean one thing. 

Eren pulls back, voice shaking as he whispers against your lips, reaching forward to press three kisses to your face. 

“I’m having a baby.” Eren whispers. 

You can’t help but laugh as he leans his forehead against yours, noting the glisten in his eyes as you reach up, and place both of your hands on his cheek. 

That was your more than anti-climactic kiss – the one that Eren had to be referencing. You lean back, reaching forward to brush your thumbs over his dimples. 

“You mean, I’m having a baby.” you respond. 

“Yes. You, me, we…we’re having a baby.” 

You laugh, leaning forward as you return his first gesture of pulling him close, before wrapping your arms around him, and nestling yourself into the sweet smell of his soap and cologne mixed together. And you stand that way for some time, as you think about it all. 

Baby clothes. Names. Telling everyone. Fixing up the room at the end of the hall. Actually being pregnant with a baby inside your stomach. 

A baby that was already there right now. You look down, pressing your hand to your stomach, and nearly shivering. 

“When you were rambling earlier, about…about the baby, you said that you thought you were going to be a bad mom. Was that pregnancy nervousness or do you mean it?” Eren whispers. 

You forgot you even said that. 

“Maybe both. I was just scared to tell you. Or anyone, because…I don’t know. It kind of came out of nowhere.” 

“But do you think that? That you were going to be a bad mom?” 

You lean back, looking up at Eren, as you sigh. 

“Be honest.” Eren warns. 

“You’re just so good with kids. You, like objectively, have nothing to worry about.” you whisper. 

Eren rolls his eyes. 

“You think I don’t worry about this type of stuff? You know I’m scared shitless for this too, right?” 

You glare. 

“You’re scared that your kids are going to adore you like every other child in our life adores you?” 

Eren sighs. 

“Not that. I’m just…” 

You note that Eren’s face almost falls. And you reach forward, trying to sooth the smile lines back into his face. 

“I’m scared our kids will come out all…anxious and sad. That they’ll be all weird and twisty because I was like that as a kid. I used to cry all the time and I…I hated going out. I had panic attacks before I even knew what that meant.” 

You lean forward, placing your hand on his cheek. 

You almost forgot about that. 

“First of all, that wouldn’t be your fault. If that happened. It’s normal. We’d help them. It’s not something you…you just give to people, Eren. And you’re being silly. They could get that from me too. We were both like that at one point and…and it’s just a part of us. Us alone. Not them.” 

Eren sighs. 

“You know I’d die happy if our kids were like you?” Eren whispers. 

You laugh. 

“What?” 

“Maybe they won’t get that from you. Or from me. The sad twisty thing? But I hope they get everything else from you.” 

You lean forward and kiss the side of his cheek. 

“Your hair, your pretty eyes. Your laugh, your smile. God, I can’t even tell you how excited I am that there’s going to be a little you running around. With your horrible sense of humor, bad cooking skills probably, and...” 

You shove him. And Eren reaches forward, grabbing your hands as he lifts them up and places a kiss on the inside of both of your wrists. 

“Can you be a little gentle? You’re pregnant, you know?” 

“Gentle with what?” 

“Your wrists. You just pushed me and that was kind of hard.” 

You roll your eyes. 

“And what does that have to do with the baby? Or being pregnant?” 

Eren shrugs. 

“I don’t know. Take it easy. You could hurt her.” 

You pause. 

“Her?” 

“It’s a girl.” Eren responds. 

You roll your eyes. 

“Is not. It’s going to be a boy.” 

“You’ve been pregnant for three seconds. How do you even know?” Eren asks. 

You shove him again. Eren shoots you a warning glance, fingers soft on your wrists, as you fight from smiling at him fully. 

“I’m carrying our baby. Have been for a while now. I would know. It’s a boy.” 

Eren rolls his eyes. 

“Don’t insult Maya by calling her a boy.” 

You smile, remembering the names you and Eren had picked out almost ages ago, as Eren lifts your wrists and presses a kiss to them again. 

“Don’t insult Marco by calling her a girl.” you parrot back. 

“Stop shoving, sweetheart. That could have felt like an earthquake to her or something.” 

“Are you crazy? He probably isn’t even that big, right now. Or sentient, Eren.” you deadpan. 

Eren lifts his hand up, signaling for you to wait, as he reaches for his phone. You try to peer over but Eren leans it closer to his chest, giving you an antagonizing glare. 

“If your period is two weeks late, that means your last one was like…what…five weeks ago? Six? That means you're six weeks pregnant. And if you’re six weeks pregnant, that means the baby is as big as a pea.” 

“So?” 

“So our little sweet pea Maya could have felt that. You should take it easy. Let’s go lie down in bed. Do you want a massage?” 

You laugh as Eren all but places his hands on your waist, almost dragging you over to the bed. 

“Our little sweet pea?” 

“Y’know, like peas in a pod?” Eren asks. 

You roll your eyes. 

“Pea in a pod, Eren. It’s one baby, not two.” 

The statement ended up being insanely ironic when you looked back on it. And maybe a little sweet – because you and Eren both ended up being right. 

Marco and Maya were there with you the entire time.

--

an: anyways shits and giggles. eren totally calls maya his sweet pea btw. and calls marco and maya two peas in a pod. eren also writes never grow up about maya anyways..

taglist: @k0z3me @sugu-love @yihona-san06  @bsenpai @sweetenertea @mykyoon @violetmatcha  @rebeccawinters @cutiejg @bokutosthings @bookwrmm @mblrrr @wheredidmycrowngo @somethinginyoureyes7 @chilichopsticks @okaystopwhore @you-always-made-me-blush @itzmeme @firelordazulaaaa @whoami-72 @g-ghostly @intimacywithceline @erensmoodygf @cocomellxn @princess-ackerman @jaegerfiles @cacapeepee @rui-0836 @moonmalice @invisible-mori @sofiasber @bbybeeb @timetobegone @tee4str @ttokki2 @leave-rae-alone @ec3lipsy @officialsimpp @gojojang @yookayyo @lordbugs @multiplefandomthings @iobeyfandoms @ilo-uwu @justanotherkpopstanlol @mel-star636 @fvckingeetar r @ttalgi @najaemism @ilovekimchi123 @youraggedybitch @xoyumiqls @leafguitar @dreamy-carat @spiidergirlsworld @luvs4kim @levin4nami @florichun @hoonmyluv

[emchante]

heavily thinking about divorced dad!Daniel and his little daughter coming up to him and asking "daddy, can I color in your tattoos?" and this man happily rolls up his sleeve and lets his little girl get to work <33

~🫠

🫠 NONNIE!! every idea you deliver to me i love, fluff, smut or angst— you’re always on a roll. this is actually the cutest thing ever??

drabble below as per! <3

often times when you were over at daniel’s house, you weren’t really there for him. or well— just him. you went around to look after his kids a lot in the beginning, but as your relationship built with daniel, it built with his kids too. they wanted to see you more, spend more time with you and didn’t view you as just ‘the neighbour’ anymore. you were becoming something more to them, and everyone loved it.

that’s how you ended up where you currently were. sat at the dining table with daniel’s daughter, both with a colouring book in front of you and pens scattered around.

she was colouring in a lion currently, because it ‘reminded her of uncle maxy!’ who you had heard a little about. it was cute nonetheless, that she associated animals with her favourite people.

you were colouring in a tiger in your own book. her brother loved tigers, so you wanted to do a little something for him, seeing as you were already spending lots of time with his sister in creating it. you tried your best to be equal with them.

the atmosphere was cozy, the natural light shining through the thin curtains and onto the table, as if showcasing your colouring to the world. daniel’s daughter was talking away to you, going from topic to topic within minutes. like father like daughter, you supposed.

speaking of the devil, daniel appears behind you both and leans over the table. his daughter only notices him when a big shadow overtakes her on the table, causing her to gasp and turn around. upon seeing it was daniel, she squealed with excitement and made grabby hands to daniel.

daniel obliged, lifting her up and blowing a raspberry into her neck, which made giggles erupt from her little figure. “hello honey, what’re you doing?” he asked her, placing a soft kiss on her cheek.

she explained that you and her were colouring in, having some ‘girl time’, as she called it. you and daniel both laughed at it, before daniel asked what she was colouring.

“is it.. a giraffe?” “don’t be silly, daddy! it’s a lion.. like uncle maxy!!” she exclaimed, and you watched daniel’s face light up at the mention of uncle maxy.

“it sure is! i’m sure he’d love to see this next time he visits,” daniel nodded, before placing her back down on her seat. he peers over to your book, making a face.

“hmm.. i’ve seen better,” he shrugs with closed eyes, before opening one to peek and see your reaction. you don’t give him much, whacking his waist gently as he yelped, causing his daughter to giggle.

daniel had pulled a chair out from next to you, and moved it so he was now in the middle of you both. “perfect, between my girls,” was his reasoning, and you felt the blush coating your cheeks at it.

you and daniel were chatting away with one another when you were interrupted by a sudden gasp. you both turn to his daughter, worry etched into your expressions incase something had happened.

“what’s up, honey?” daniel asks, pulling her closer into him and placing a soft kiss on her forehead. the genuine worry and glint of fear in his eyes warms your heart a little. yes— maybe not at the best of times— but the fact he’s evidently so caring about his kids. it was one of his most attractive qualities.

“daddy, your tattoos!” she shouted, making daniel raise a brow and tilt his head to the side, beckoning her to continue. “they’re like pictures, like my book! can i.. can i colour them in?” she continues, suddenly turning a little shyer towards the end when she had to ask the question.

your eyes trail to daniel, and you watch as his signature grin makes it’s way onto his face, eyes crinkling as the crow’s feet appeared. “of course you can! how about.. this one?” daniel offers, moving so his astronaut tattoo was in eye-view of her. she squealed with excitement, clapping her hands before she picked up her pens and got to colouring.

you watched on fondly as she scribbled into daniel’s arm, doing her best to stay within the lines of the tattoo. her little tongue was stuck out in concentration, and you tried not to laugh when she had a serious thinking expression as she decided which colours to use.

you continued to chat with daniel, both of you checking in on her newest work of art as you spoke. you were once again interrupted by her gasp, but this time you both knew it wasn’t anything bad, and just a sudden thought that popped into her mind.

“you should colour one too!” she squealed, pointing to you before pointing back to daniel, a huge smile on her little face. how could you ever deny that offer?

“okay okay, i’ll join you,” you smile, and she giggles with excitement which makes your heart melt at the sound. “but,” you start, causing her to stop and stare at you with ‘o’ shaped lips, “which tattoo do i colour?”

once again returned the thinking face, but daniel was quicker than her— surprisingly. “actually, i have an idea,” he spoke up, making you both look at him with curiosity.

he spread his right leg out, his tattoo being revealed as his slutty shorts rode further up his thigh. the tattoo was magnificent, truly a work of art with how many pieces were in it. but, you knew what daniel was doing.

“now these might be partially coloured, but i would love for you to finish them off with your own little touch,” he started, batting those long eyelashes and staring at you with those big doe eyes. “maybe.. sit on the floor for it though? wouldn’t want you hurting your back, sweetheart.”

you almost called out his teasing behaviour, but his innocent daughter shouted “yeah!!” and oh.. how could you deny her..

so, here you were. sitting on the ground, colouring in parts of daniel’s intricate thigh tattoo, as his daughter coloured in the next tattoo on daniel’s arm— skull baby.

you couldn’t even be mad, it was a domestic moment between you all and you’d give anything in the world to have it happen more often.

NONNIEEE i loved writing this so much, it was the cutest thing ever!! hope you guys enjoy your fix of fluffy divorced dad! daniel<3<3

[spiderhanzzz]

"I'M FUCKING SPIDERMAN, BABY" — han jisung.

who would've guessed that the guy you've been texting on tinder is spiderman?

word count: 2.7k

pairings: spiderman!han x journalist intern!reader

genres: humor, fluff, slight angst, comfort, kind of fake dating???

warnings: swearing, drinking, han is referred to as peter, reader and han are both uni students, mentions of vomit and violence, mild injuries, lowkey blackmailing if u squint, no use of y/n & gender neutral reader, han calls reader "pretty" once, usage of "baby" and "sweetie" too

playlist: les childish gambino, dare gorillaz, novacane frank ocean, i bet you look good on the dancefloor arctic monkeys, making the bed olivia rodrigo

a/n: my first fic raaahh!!! >:3 so so excited for u 2 read all these crazy ideas swirling inside my head

“...whoever provides the information on Spider-Man’s real identity will receive a cash prize of $1,000 US dollars…”

Your gaze bores to the glow of your old crappy TV. You haven’t had the time nor funds to purchase a new one, given that your only employment at the moment is a journalistic internship. It’s a good agency, the same one reporting on screen right now, and you acknowledge how hard you had worked to get the position. Nevertheless, you wish you prioritized financial gain over prestige, because now you’re stuck in your run-down apartment in New York, investigating the biggest issues for no money at all.

So you guess it’s not that big of a deal that you have no leads on who the hell Spider-Man is. If any higher-ups scold you, you could just hit them with those snarky remarks you’ve kept in the back of your mind all this time. How do you expect incentive from me if you’re not even paying me? I’m writing all your scripts because everyone else is a damn deadbeat! Maybe then they’ll start appreciating you.

You released a heavy sigh. All this nonsense is giving you a permanent headache, and it doesn’t help that you spend most of your free time scrolling mindlessly on your phone, which lights up with a new text notification the moment you start thinking about it. Perhaps you’ve spent so much time on your phone it’s becoming a part of your brain?

Peter Han: hahah tbh im pretty busy this week, but i’ll let u know for sure :)

A light shade of embarrassment tints your face when you catch yourself smiling at the text message. Usually Peter— the cute guy you’ve been texting on Tinder— never uses any emoticons. In fact, he’s been acting pretty uninterested and dry with you, which wouldn’t bother you as much if it weren’t for the fact that you desperately need a date to your friend’s birthday party next week.

Despite your humiliatingly destitute lifestyle, you pride yourself for your unmatched abilities to blend into any crowd. So like any other New Yorker, you decided to surround yourself with upper class Manhattan socialites. They like you; they don’t need to know about your financial status.

But with great power comes great responsibility, and with great social life comes great expectations. Last week it was a certain Kate Spade wallet with the intentions to match with the whole group of girls, and the week before it was table manners at a European restaurant (how in the hell were you supposed to know which fork to use for a crème brûlée?) This week, though, they gave you the most impossible task of all: get a date.

And you would. Truly, you would. It’s not like you’re particularly unattractive or unlikeable or anything like that. It’s just that you haven’t dipped your toes into the dating pool since university started, and you’re too far gone now. Your peers are fluent in these unspoken rules of dating and you don’t even really know what a situationship is.

Thus why you’re acting a little bit too desperate with Peter.

As you draft a response to him— is it better to use two or three y’s in hey?— your train of thoughts are interrupted by a loud thud on your balcony, followed by a shadow of vibrant colours. Your couch is situated safely so you can see right out the window, but angled in a way that someone outside wouldn’t be able to see you inside. You found this hack on social media on a particularly paranoid rush of nerves and thanked whoever that person was every single night.

Hesitating for a minute, you consider your options: a) attempt to fight off whoever is in your building, b) run out and alert security, or b) pretend like you didn’t hear anything and pray you don’t see your own face on TV tomorrow instead of Spider-Man’s.

If you were acting rational you would have chosen the last option. After all, it’s New York— if there’s anything prevalent here, it’s crime. But you are just so fucking bored. 

So you grab a baseball bat and swing open the window. 

“Get the hell off my balcony, dude!”

To your surprise, you stand face to face with a pair of dangling Converse All-Stars (really dirty ones, too). In your spur of confusion you come to the conclusion that whoever is sitting above your flat has the ugliest red socks you’ve ever seen in your life.

“What the fuck, man?” The person exclaims. “You bruised my knee!”

“That sounds about right for messing with my place, no?” You say, stepping out onto the balcony to get a good look at the stranger.

Just when you think you couldn’t get more disoriented, you realize the man you’re looking up to is not a stranger at all. It’s none other than Peter Han, in a full on Spider-Man suit.

“Peter…?”

The stranger, AKA Peter, breathes out a nervous laugh, raking his hand through his messy hair. Cute, you think.

“I think you mistook me for someone else. I’m not Peter.”

“Okay…” You say dubiously. “Why are you wearing a Spider-Man suit then?”

“I’m a… uh… cosplayer?”

When his eyes meet yours, the truth sings: he’s been caught. Peter Han is Spider-Man.

He’s terrified, you can tell. You don’t blame him— you would be too in his position. But it’s not just the fact that you know now; it’s also the mischievous glint twinkling in your eyes. Just what the hell are you thinking about that could be so amusing right now?

“W-what’s that look for?”

You can’t hold it in anymore. Maniacal laughter bursts out of you like you’ve been possessed by the spirit of a circus clown, and you have to hold on to the balcony railing to stop yourself from falling over. “Oh, Peter, you naive little fool.”

Peter’s brows furrow in confusion. You mentally curse yourself for admiring how handsome he looks when he doesn’t know what’s going on.

“Didn’t I tell you? I’m on the case to find out Spider-Man’s identity. Well, your identity, I guess.”

“You did not tell me that.”

“Yes, I did.” You cross your arms over your chest, shooting him a judgemental look. “You’d know that if you paid any attention to what I have to say.”

“Look, listen…” Peter braces his lean arms on the side of the window to lower himself on your balcony. Standing face to face, you note that he’s not as tall as you thought. “I know I haven’t been the warmest person to you, but I would literally get on my knees and beg for you to please not tell anyone about this.”

You hum in amusement, taking a step closer to him and raising your chin with undoubted sanguine. Like this, you’re almost the same height as him. “As tempting as that sounds, I’d rather have you doing something else for me.”

Peter chuckles in disbelief, eyes wandering to the sky as if to ask God what have I done to deserve this absolute nonsense? His palms rest upon your shoulders when he looks you dead in the eye and says, “You are not blackmailing me, sweetie.”

“That’s a lot of confidence for someone who has very blackmail-able secrets.”

“That’s not even a word!”

“Whatever.” You peel away his hands from your shoulders, straightening your posture and pulling your shoulders back. Peter faces you with a puzzled gaze as you offer him your hand, clearing your throat and stating, “Peter Han, I would like to make a deal with you.”

He doesn’t move. “And that is…?”

“Date me.” Seeing his face contort into an even deeper state of befuddlement, you follow up with elaboration. “One date to a party next week, and just a few meet-ups and texts to prove that our relationship is going strong. In return, I’ll pretend this whole exchange never happened.”

You’re both silent for what feels like hours, eyes fighting a silent mental battle, until Peter’s rough palms finally envelop your own. You’re aware of how crazy and delusional you sound, but you swear he pulls you in just a little bit closer.

“Deal.”

It’s your third year in the city, and you’re still not fully familiarized with the parties. Contrary to your expectations of drunk sweaty bodies dancing up on each other, your friends’ definition of parties consists of low warm lighting embracing their glittered luxury brand dresses as they swirl their fancy little martinis and cosmopolitans. You appreciate it, really, since you don’t have to use up your voice every other night just to shout over the deafening electronic music. However it’s much harder to appreciate the pressure it puts on you to behave a certain way— dance like nobody’s watching, but be aware that they are.

As you slowly walk to approach your friends (rule #32: no running in public spaces, you’ll look like an idiot) you feel a large hand brush softly against your waist. You turn to face your date for the night, warmth creeping up your cheeks as you take in his appearance. The only suit he’s wearing now is an all-black tuxedo with no tie, the first three buttons of his shirt opened. His black hair is brushed down smoothly, pieces of it falling just right to frame his glowing face.

“You clean up well,” you remark, circling your arm in his as you guide him towards the bar where your friends are sitting.

“I could say the same to you, pretty.” With the sleek black shoes he’s wearing, he’s a few inches taller. Slightly looking down on you, he gives you a subtle wink.

God, he’s such a heartthrob.

Your friends round up to give you hugs and kisses to welcome your presence, ever so politely. One of them acknowledges Peter’s companionship. “You must be the date.”

“That I am.” Peter returns the approach, showing off his adorably heart-shaped smile. “Peter Han, pleasure to meet you.”

The rest of the night runs as it does in your dreams the night before. By the time you had arrived, your friends were already buzzed enough to pay no mind to the way the leather is peeling off your only pair of formal shoes nor to the typo on your fake branded bag. Just the way it’s supposed to be.

Peter doesn’t leave your side the entire night, only lifting his arm around your waist to grab more drinks for the both of you. Occasionally you catch him absentmindedly rubbing your back, and occasionally you catch yourself wondering how someone who spends so much of his life fighting can be this gentle.

During a small bathroom break, one of your friends pulls you aside and whispers, “He looks at you like you hung the stars, you know.”

If you weren’t so swept up in the feeling of finally belonging under the subtle incandescence of a high-end bar in Manhattan, you would have noticed the way Peter’s eyes darken when he read a notification off his phone, or the way his lips press into a tight line when he gazes at you, laughing your heart away amongst your friends.

So you’re nothing short of confounded when he wraps his arms around your waist and leans down to mumble, “Baby, I have to go, there’s a work emergency. I’ll catch you later, alright?”

Your friends bid him farewell and you press a chaste kiss to his cheek, immediately turning away when you feel his body tense. When he walks out the door, you keep your eyes focused on how his soft hair loses its shimmer as he walks out into the night.

And you try to enjoy the warm liquid pouring down your throat for the fifth time tonight, savoring the way you can almost taste a bit of yourself pull away from reality each time, knowing at least one of the people around you will walk away tonight asking, “don’t you think that Peter is a bit cold?”

You sit on the edge of your balcony, something you never do unless you’re going through an existential crisis or drunk off your ass. Tonight it’s both. As usual, the distant sirens and exclamations of curses wrap a tight band around your head. You’re dizzy; either from the alcohol or situation or both.

The ocean of fluorescent lights from the streets of Queens drift your mind to recall just how you ended up here. Three years ago, you were a fresh high school graduate with a million opportunities in front of you. Now you’re broke and rely too much on the validation of your non-broke friends to fulfill the void inside you. The thought of eventually having nobody but yourself after you graduate makes you wanna vomit on a passerby’s head.

“Hey, baby.” A particularly resonant voice startles you out of your thoughts. Peter is swinging from your balcony railing, a pair of gray sweatpants and zip-up jacket slung over his Spider-Man suit. “Sorry for ditching early. I got pizza and flowers to make it up to you, though.”

He swings himself to sit down next to you, placing the box of pizza and bouquet in front of your crossed legs. When he pulls his mask over his head to remove it, your eyes glance over his cuts and bruises. They definitely weren’t there earlier.

“What happened?” You unconsciously bring a hand up to his face, brushing your knuckles tenderly over the sensitive areas. It’s only when he winces that you drop your hand back down to your lap.

“Some guy tried to rob a bank.” Peter shrugged, refusing to meet your gaze. “Turns out he brought a bunch of other guys to back him up.”

“Did you win, at least?”

Though his face is turned down, you can see Peter’s eyes crinkle into a smile underneath his tousled hair. “Yeah, ‘course I did. Who do you think I am, a loser? I’m fucking Spider-Man, baby.”

Ten minutes later you’re seated face to face, still on your balcony, with you dabbing a cotton pad onto his injuries. No words were exchanged; you just went in and out to grab your emergency medical kit and grabbed him by the chin. The pizza box is left unattended, but neither of you care much about the hunger puncturing your insides.

“Why do you look so down?” Peter inquires as you place a Hello Kitty bandaid on his cheekbone, giggling breathlessly as you do so.

“Do I?”

“Yeah.” He brings his own hand up to your face, brushing away the strands of your hair on your forehead. “I mean, you’re smiling now, but your eyes have this sadness to them. So, what’s wrong? Talk to me.”

What the actual fuck? It literally takes you every nerve in your body to fight the urge to propose to this man right then and there.

“Hey, come on,” he urges, delicately pulling your face an inch closer to his. His thumbs run down your flushed cheeks, and it takes you a while to notice he’s brushing away your tears. “I said talk to me.”

“Well, you’ve probably already noticed that I’m different from my friends.” You wrap your fingers around his wrists. “I guess I thought I could pull off the whole socialite act, but I’m starting to feel so…”

When you can’t find the words, Peter finds them for you. “Lost?”

He presses his forehead to yours as you nod softly. “This might not be the best time, but I think you’re a star.”

“Meaning?”

“Meaning you shine the brightest amongst everyone else’s shadow. And your friends probably see you that way too. Also that I really, really want to take you out on a real date.”

“You were right, it’s terrible timing.” You fake pout, pretending as if your heart didn’t skip a beat at his words.

“Sorry, sorry!” Peter laughs, setting distance between the two of you once again. There is no inclination to pull him back, though; the space devoid of someone else finally feels comfortable.

“My answer is yes, by the way, you can take me out on a real date. Unfortunately no blackmail this time, though, I think I'm gonna quit that dumb internship.”

Both of you share a fit of affectionate laughter. The temperate scent of food merges with that of the flowers and caresses your senses as Peter opens the box of pizza. “If they ever make fun of you for not being rich, we can always stage one of them as Spider-Man. We'll even get $1,000 from it, then you'll actually be rich."

“I’ll take you up on that offer, Spidey.”

[coolestzed]

Alright, I’ve been holding this inside for years but I’m finally gonna say it.

Misako haters are actually fucking annoying at this point.

They always were to me, but now, they’re just OBJECTIVELY an annoyance. And they need to STOP.

They take literally ANY chance to slander her, even when it’s completely unwarranted. Like, I’d just look at a picture of her on Pinterest, and there’d be multiple comments going "the world’s worst mother". Or I’d see content about Koko and there’d always be comments comparing her and Misako and going like "Koko way better fuck Misako".

I’d even see a fucking meme and people would slander Misako. Like they couldn’t resist.

And that’s not even mentioning his people constantly make her seem way worse than she actually is. Im not gonna quote everything, but basically they act like she never does good things for Lloyd. That she doesn’t care about him at all! And it’s just- so WILDY out of character!! And it’s the same vice versa! I saw a funny Ninjago video the other day with a "your mom" joke and someone in the comments was like "jokes on you, Lloyd would never call Misako mom". I’m just?????? Yes he DOES????? ALL THE TIME???

People just act like their relationship is nonexistent! Like they don’t care about each other, or that Misako doesn’t care about Lloyd! Which is OBVIOUSLY not true!

People claim that she disappears every other season but the only seasons she was absent in are 12 and 13. Also, she has a job. She goes on expeditions. Obviously she’s not there 100% of the time. And she and Lloyd clearly spend time together off screen.

People don’t even acknowledge the reason why she left in the first place. They act like she dropped him off at a boarding school and dipped to take a vaycay. She was literally trying to stop her husband and son from having to fight to the death. You ever think about that? You ever think about how SHE felt in the situation? With her husband being consumed by evil and later being banished, and learning that he and their son would have to fight each other? She was HORRIFIED and GRIEVING! Ultimately she did it to save her family. It doesn’t make leaving Lloyd right but it’s understandable.

But apparently not to almost all of the fandom.

Most of y’all, completely ignore that, and everything else that came after season 2.

Misako constantly being worried about Lloyd in Tournament of Elements and Possession.

Both of them spending Day of the Departed together.

Her getting/building the Destiny’s Shadow as a birthday gift for Lloyd.

How she supported, fought beside, and risked her life for Lloyd in Hunted.

How she wanted to stay and fight with him during MoTO but only went inside because Lloyd urged her to protect the civilians.

Not to mention just their general interactions. THEY’RE ALWAYS HAPPY TO SEE EACH OTHER!!! Do you know how many times they hug?!

And this dialogue here:

"Aren’t you going to kiss your mother goodbye?"

"Mooom, we've-we've talked about this-"

WHAT MORE PROOF DO YOU NEED?!

Lloyd and Misako have a good, healthy and loving relationship. Misako has long since made up for her mistake and they’ve moved on.

Yet THE FANDOM REFUSES TO!!!

EVERYONE, TO THIS DAY, STILL TREATS HER LIKE THE FUCKING DEVIL!!!

I CAN’T EVEN COUNT THE NUMBER OF TIMES PEOPLE HAVE HAD OVERDRAMATIC TANTRUMS FROM HER JUST EXISTING.

IT MAKES ME SO UNREASONABLY ANGRY.

AND THE FACT THAT I’VE SOMEHOW BEEN SEEING EVEN MORE MISAKO HATE DURING AND AFTER MOTHERS DAY IS ACTUALLY APPALLING.

NOT EVEN FUCKING ENDEAVOR FROM MHA GETS THIS MUCH HATE AND HE’S DONE MUCH WORSE TO HIS FAMILY.

IT. HAS. BEEN. OVER. 16. SEASONS. AND. A. MOVIE.

GET. OVER. IT.

*deep breath*

Look, she’s not perfect. Obviously. She fucked up. But who in this series hasn’t? She came back, and she’s made sure to be a better mother to Lloyd. He forgave her, and they have a good relationship now. They’re close.

She wouldn’t be as hated if the writers didn’t do her dirty. Her introduction wasn’t handled the best, and having her and Lloyd have a more in depth discussion would’ve made the reunion and forgiveness feel less rushed and forced. That love triangle with Wu and Garmadon certainly didn’t do her any favors either. 😑

Regardless, her character’s gotten better over the seasons. Again, she and Lloyd and close and have a good relationship.

But hardly anyone acknowledges that, almost everyone in the fandom hyper fixates on that one mistake from years ago. They don’t pay attention to anything else. Like how she’s a better mother, or how she’s just a generally good person.

You aren’t supposed to judge characters or irl people solely on their past mistakes. Especially when they’ve already made up for them. Thats why the "Misako’s a horrible mother" statement is always bullshit to me.

Seriously, Misako’s been a part of Lloyd’s life longer than she’s been absent from it at this point.

The amount of passionate, unforgiving hate she gets is so undeserved and over the top. Too many people are projecting their own issues onto her. Or just being plain hateful. It’s not fair to define her entire character on a single mistake that she’s long made up for.

And it’s definitely not fair to people that actually like Misako. Often times on the few positive posts about her, there’d be Misako haters in the notes or reblogs complaining about her or insulting her, or just stating they hate her but love the content. And that is completely uncool and rude. It’s so unnecessary. You don’t do that, that’s so shitty. The again Misako haters have a habit of spouting unnecessary hate. Like it’s a terminal condition they have.

So, please, for the love of god, COOL IT. Stop and think, try to ACTUALLY look at her character without the veil of blind hatred.

If you still dislike or hate her, fine! But if you’re gonna detest her, at least hate her as she is and don’t make her worse than she actually is to justify hating her more.

And PLEASE stop bashing her at every turn, it’s annoying, upsetting, unwarranted, unnecessary, and just not good.

Thank you for coming to my Ted Talk.

[box-of-roses]

.⋅ ۵♡۵ ⋅. I hear you .⋅ ۵♡۵ ⋅.

♡ Synopsis: You can hear the thoughts of your soulmate; What happens when Sakusa finds out you’re his soulmate and tries to plan the perfect way to tell you

♡ Characters: Sakusa, Y/N

♡ Possible Warnings: Mentions of tests and failing, good old fashioned teasing

♡ Words: 2.3K

Pt. 2 | Pt. 3 | Series Masterlist

From the moment you’re born you are able to communicate with your soulmate. No one is exactly sure how it works but their thoughts become yours and vice versa. A lot of the time what you hear is nonsense. Since everyone grows up with it constantly in their brain it’s easy to filter out the nonsense from actual conversations. Let’s start from the beginning though shall we?

Y/N is born. Maybe not quite that early, let’s skip ahead to the first coherent conversation you remember with your soulmate. It was just after you had failed a test, which was shocking because you believed you had done well on it.

‘Hey, I don’t know what’s going on over there but will you stop panicking?’ Hearing a voice in the midst of your stupor made you jerk your head up and look around. Seeing nothing on the horizon your brows furrowed and your lips contorted into a frown. ‘Did your parents or teachers not talk to you guys about soulmates? We communicate in our heads.’

That made much more sense as to why you could hear someone talking to you but couldn’t see anyone. ‘Thank you.’

‘Don’t thank me, your panicking made it hard to focus.’ You rolled your eyes at that and stood back up. ‘Just go ask to retake the test if you’re so worried about it.’ That was actually a good idea now that you had thought about it.

And thus the first interaction with your soulmate. Even if they were a bit blunt. You didn’t have many conversations in the early years of your lives. As you approached High School though the conversations came much easier.

‘What high school are you going to?’ You looked down at the three papers in front of you.

‘I’m not telling you that. You might be my soulmate but that doesn’t mean you aren’t a creep.’

‘You’ve literally known me your whole life and can hear what I’m think.’ You rolled your eyes. It was a bit of a habit when dealing with your soulmate. ‘I’m stuck between a couple. We can meet generically if you want or we can go to school together.’

‘Itachiyama.’ What?

‘That’s where I’ll be going to school.’ You felt a smile growing on your face at the news. You pulled out your laptop and began filling out the entrance form.

‘There’s no guarantee that I’ll get in but I’d like to meet you. Talking to you is nice.’

‘I enjoy talking with you too. Now go to sleep, we’re on the same time and I don’t want to listen to you complain about not getting enough sleep.’ It was little things like that. They reminded you that this was in fact your soulmate. Not just a friend that comes and goes. Someone you're with for life, for better or worse.

‘Goodnight K’

‘Goodnight N/N’

You had gotten into the school. Yet you still hadn’t met your soulmate. Well, that’s not entirely true but you didn’t know that you had met your soulmate. The universe works in mysterious ways.

‘I can’t believe it’s been months and I still haven’t met you.’

‘Maybe you have and don’t know it. It is a possibility. It’s a big school and we’re bound to cross paths at some point.’ With a laugh you finished off your notes.

‘I don’t want to force too much. I think it’s a bad idea to figure out a time or place to meet, I have faith in the universe that we’ll meet at some point.’ Tempting the universe too much was never a good idea. Enough movies and shows have taught you that much. Although, it was tempting. Why would it let you get into the same school? Be in the same vicinity but never meet. Not truly at least. Questions for once you found him.

You at least knew that much. Your soulmate was a him, his friends teased him relentlessly for smiling if you said something funny. That he played a sport, and that you two were at the very least friends. You had details but they were still vague enough that it made it difficult to find him.

Day in and day out you would look at people in your classes and wonder if he could be one of them. He of course laughed at you when he heard the thoughts run rampant in your head. If he was in your class you didn’t know, what you did know though was that he was happy you were looking for him. ‘I’m glad you’re looking for me.’

‘Wow? I never expected such a statement from the reserved K’ You smile as you scribble on your paper. Hearts, lines, letters. ‘My mom wants me to join a club.’

‘Which club do you want to join?’

‘Aren’t you in a club?’

‘Yes.’ He wouldn’t tell you which one no matter how many times you asked. “It’d be too easy if we narrowed it down.” He would say. That’s the point. Years of having this voice in your head and no face to go along with it. It was a little frustrating. Your eyes scanned your classroom, many of your classmates had found their soulmates. Purposely going to the same school and meeting each other. The difference between you and them was that they pushed the universe.

You and K had a delicately practiced dance. You would push and he would pull, sometimes he would push and you would pull. Memories of the high school conversation passed in your head. It had been so easy to get that information from him. Why was this so hard? Shaking your head you packed up and went to the bulletin board to see which clubs needed help. What caught your eye immediately was volleyball. You enjoyed the sport well enough. The team was looking for a manager.

‘I think I’m going to apply to be a manager of a sports team.’

‘Maybe it will be mine.’

‘I hate when you do that.’

‘Do what?’

‘I say something and you tease me for being hopeful.’

‘Maybe I was giving you hope.’ You hadn’t thought of it like that. You had always thought of it as him shutting down your attempts. Maybe he was giving you hope, he told you what high school he was going to. He told you he was on a sports team. So now here you stand looking at the sports section of the board and the first thing your eyes landed on was a almost hidden away post.

‘Did you hang up a post?’

‘If I did you wouldn’t know. If I didn’t you still found one that caught your eye and are trying for it. Take a jump. I’ll try to catch you if you fall.’

‘That was cheesy, even for me. But, thank you.’ With newfound courage you walked to the gym, it wasn’t loud since it was before practice. The team would be away on lunch at the moment. You quickly found the coach though. “Hello, I’m here to apply for the manager position for the volleyball team.” You smiled and held out your hand after approaching the man. He looked at you and nodded. He shook your hand and gave a run down on the things you would be expected to do.

“If that’s not too hard you’re welcome to the position. Show up here Tuesdays, Wednesdays, and Fridays. Thursdays as well but that will mostly be a quick stop to let me know if you see anything that I don’t catch and their grades and such.” You nodded along to the information with a wide smile on your face. From what you heard of the team they were really good. And there was a silent hope that you would meet K here.

“Alright, see you after school then coach!” You left the gym and went to lunch yourself. ‘K! I got the position!’

‘That’s nice, why are you yelling though?’

‘Because I’m excited.’ You huffed and sat down at your table. ‘I hope I’m not disturbing your lunch.’

‘We literally talk the whole lunch period everyday. Why are you so worried about it? Did someone say something?’ You smiled at his thoughtfulness. The more you two talked the more thoughtful and caring he appeared.

‘No, I’m just nervous for my first day on the job.’ You knew he was rolling his eyes at that.

‘No need to be nervous. You’ll probably be doing easy stuff and getting introduced to everyone.’ You knew he was right and it was silly to be nervous. You were still nervous though. What if you meet him and he doesn’t like you? ‘Stop. I can hear what you’re thinking, remember?’ Oh. Yeah. That.

‘If we meet I’m sure I’ll like you.’

‘You can’t know that for sure! What if you find me annoying?’

‘You’re not. Lunch is almost over, go to your last classes and then we’ll see if you picked my team.’ You were still nervous but he worked at reassuring you. Even though it didn’t calm you completely it was still nice.

One last skip for now. No one wants to sit in their thoughts. Or at least it’s not healthy to. Let’s see how you’re doing as a manager shall we?

Once you arrived in the gym again you began setting things up. It seemed you were early. Oh well, the coach said that it would be helpful to set up on days you got there before everyone else. Once the net got set up you went searching for the volleyballs. They’ve got to be around here somewhere.

“I would check in the storage closet.” A sudden voice shocked you and you jumped. You turned around and came face to face with one of your classmates.

“Komori right?” He nodded.

“I’ll check with you, the others should be getting here soon. Sorry you had to set it up by yourself.” He seemed nice, you had very minimal interactions in class but you always knew him as kind.

“It’s no problem, I’m your new manager so it was the least I could do.” He smiled at you as he showed you the cart of volleyballs.

“You’ll be meeting my cousin today. Don’t mind him, he can be a little off-putting when you first meet him.” Okay, well that was worrying. ‘K, I met one of the team members and he’s already told me to be careful of someone.’

‘You’ve got this, I wish I could talk but I’m about to start practice and I don’t think either of us wants me to get hurt.’

‘I don’t know, you’ll have more time to talk to me that way.’ You smiled and of course Komori noticed. “Soulmate?” You kind of forgot he was there but nodded.

“Yeah, apparently he’s about to start practice and made a joke.” Komori nodded and helped you push the carts out into the gym. The team had arrived by the time you guys had gotten back. One of them caught your eyes though. The tall dark haired boy. Sakusa. A lot of girls in your grade talked about him and how they wished he was their soulmate. Your cheeks heated up when you remembered you had a soulmate. Now was not the time to be gawking at boys.

‘Who are you gawking at?’

‘No one!’

‘Mhm, like I literally didn’t just hear you tell yourself to stop looking at someone.’

‘It’s nothing, one of the people on the team is just cute that’s all.’ You rolled your eyes and put on a smile before introducing yourself to everyone. “Hello, I’m L/N F/N. I’ll be your manager starting today. It’s lovely meeting everyone.” You stood back up and gave them all a smile. You noticed one of the players stiffened at the interaction. Maybe that’s what Komori said when he said his cousin could be a little off-putting.

You let them get to practice after that though, not wanting to hold them up any longer. Your eyes didn’t leave Sakusa though. He was mesmerizing to watch play. He looked like he enjoyed it. A stark contrast to him looking disinterested a moment ago. Get it together Y/N.

You had been spacing out for so long that it was time to pack up when you finally returned to reality. Komori said he would help you clean up but surprisingly Sakusa also agreed to help. Doesn’t he hate new people though?

‘You have that effect on people. No one ever hates you.’ Your cheeks heated up and you almost dropped the volleyball you were holding.

‘SINCE WHEN WERE YOU SUCH A FLIRT??????’ You placed the ball in the cart and looked around to see if there were anymore as you tried to calm yourself down.

‘I don’t know. I didn’t feel very good listening to you gawk over a guy for my entire practice.’

‘MAYBE IT WAS YOU???? EVER THINK ABOUT THAT???’ Not seeing anymore you turned back around to push the carts back to the storage room.

“Hey L/N, why do you look so flustered?” Komori being ever so helpful to point it out made you even more flustered.

“Because my soulmate decided to be unhelpful and flirt with me.”

“They don’t usually?” It was Sakusa’s turn to chime in now.

“No. Or at least not so obviously.” The boys helped you put the carts back. ‘Thank you so much for that. Now you’ve got people questioning why I’m acting the way I am.’

‘You’re welcome. Get home soon, it’s getting late.’

“Well, it was nice to meet you guys but I need to head home now.”

“See you later L/N”

“Yeah, see you.” With that you left the gym excited that you made more friends.

And with that chapter one is complete. I’m going to write the first chapter for all the installments of the series before continuing with a specific one. So, stay tuned for those! My askbox is open if you would like to request something and love you guys! Hope you enjoyed!

Likes, reblogs, and comments are always appreciated

Taglist:

Masterlist

[dark-fics-4-you]

I have a request!! Rafe whining about reader breaking up with him so when he got to her to sleep with him, he traps her by impregnating her 🤭

Desperate Measures

Warnings: dubcon, smut, toxic relationship, intoxication, drugs, forced pregnancy, unprotected sex

Dark!Rafe Cameron x Reader

Everyone had told you that he was bad news, but it took him threatening to slash all of your tires for simply talking to a male friend for you to finally come to terms with the fact that that relationship just was not going to work.

Rafe Cameron had given you the world, in the beginning. Spoiling you with gifts and expensive dates was the norm. He was a man obsessed, taking up all of your free time. At first, you thought it was cute, after all it was nice to feel fawned over, especially by someone as handsome as Rafe.

You loved the way he would look at you, like he was holding himself back from pulling off all of your clothes, even when you were in public. The clench of his jaw and the way his eyes would darken when you looked up at him from under your lashes excited you.

The honeymoon phase only lasted so long before Rafe’s true colors began to show. He was incredibly jealous and controlling to the point that you had felt suffocated. Not to mention the drug use.

In the beginning, you really had fooled yourself into thinking that he would change for you. That lasted for about 2 days, before it was back to lies and you knowing what the glazed look in his eyes meant, even though Rafe denied it and called you crazy.

It was hard to accept that he would always love drugs more than you. You really didn’t want to believe it, but time and time again, he proved to you that you would always be his second priority.

The break up went about as well as you expected it to, which was awful.

Rafe argued back at every reason you gave, but you both knew that you were in the right.

Rafe’s lip curled, cold eyes narrowing as he hurled insults at you, words that at that point were not unfamiliar to you. ‘Bitch!’ ‘Slut!’ ‘Cunt!’ You were so used to those words coming from him that they no longer had power over you. Still, you couldn’t get out of there fast enough, eventually just standing and turning to leave, cutting him off mid sentence.

You gasped when you felt his fingers digging into your forearm, jerking you back against him.

“Y/N, don’t fucking walk away from me when I’m talking to you, alright?” Rafe snarled in anger, and you snapped your gaze from where he was gripping you to his eyes, fear emanating from your panicked expression.

“Rafe,” you began shakily, “let go. Just let me go.”

He didn’t say anything, just glaring at you and breathing heavy. Slowly, he released his hold on your arm, never breaking eye contact. His stare was blank, but you could see his upper lip twitching slightly in anger.

“You’re going to regret this, Y/N. You don’t even know how much you’re going to regret this.” His even tone gave you chills, and you quickly rushed out of the Cameron house, nervously glancing behind yourself to make sure he wasn’t following.

You drove a good distance away from his house before you pulled over to the side of the road to cry. You thought that breaking up with Rafe might have gotten him to leave you alone, but you should have known better.

Rafe was not the type to give up easily, and he was used to getting everything he wanted.

You just knew that you needed to stay away from him, because you really didn’t have any idea what he was capable of.

__________________

Rafe was fucking pissed.

He had been furious the last five days. That was how long it had been since you had told him you couldn’t be with him anymore.

He knew that he had made mistakes, but doesn’t everyone? Rafe had only tried to make you his only priority, and that made him the asshole?

No goddamn way.

Topper nodded along as Rafe rambled in a coked out haze. You had come up in every conversation he had had since the breakup. Topper was starting to get tired of it already.

“You know what you should do, Rafe?”

“What?” Rafe, surprised to hear Topper’s response, looked at his friend with an eyebrow cocked in curiosity.

“You should remind her how good she had it when you were together,” Topper said with a sly smirk and a snicker. “That’s what I do when Sarah starts getting snippy with me.”

“I don’t even know how or when I’m going to see Y/N next, how the fuck am I going to pull that off?” Rafe rolled his eyes before he leaned over the table to snort another line.

“I mean, she’s still friends with Sarah, right?” Topper looked at Rafe with a raised eyebrow. “She might be going to her birthday party.”

“Birthday?” Rafe asked, perking up.

“Dude, how do you not know Sarah’s birthday? She’s probably throwing the party at your house.” This jogged Rafe’s memory and he recalled Sarah had set up plans to have Ward and Rose out of Tannyhill all weekend.

He gave a mindless response, but his thoughts were racing. Rafe was supposed to be going to that party with you. But instead you’d be by Sarah’s side, or maybe even, unthinkably, on the arm of some other guy. The very thought made him seethe with rage. Rafe knew there was no way he would be able to hold himself back from punching anyone who tried to get in between you and him.

But how could he make you realize that you belonged with him? Rafe couldn’t imagine that you would willingly stay with him, you had made that clear when you ran away from him after breaking his heart.

Rafe was sure you weren’t thinking straight. You didn’t give him the chance to prove to you that he could change. He wasn’t allowed to show you how much better he could be.

There had to be some way he could prove to you that he was all in.

_______________

You swayed your hips in time with the music, somehow capturing Rafe’s attention in a sea of moving bodies. He could tell you were a few drinks in, the flush in your cheeks was obvious to him.

Rafe’s tongue darted out to wet his lips at the sight of your low cut top and short skirt. You looked so good, and Rafe couldn’t help but think about the last time he had seen you wearing that skirt, and how quickly he had gotten you out of it.

The blond leaned over the crowded countertop in front of him, bringing a rolled up dollar bill to his nose before snorting the neat line of coke in front of him.

Even though it was Sarah’s party, it was a Kooks only event, and Rafe made sure of that. He would throw out anyone who didn’t belong.

You had spent most of the night with Sarah and your other mutual friends. Rafe had been silently watching you, just to make sure no guys came up to you. He considered himself lucky for that, because he didn’t really want to cause a scene by breaking someone’s nose at his sister’s birthday party, although he definitely would have if he needed to.

Rafe couldn’t understand why you didn’t see how much he cared for you, how much he could give you.

Eyeing the way the fabric of your outfit clung to your skin, which was now glistening with a thin layer of sweat and various sparkles that had rubbed off on you from people’s clothes, Rafe couldn’t stop himself from wandering how it would feel to kiss your neck and smell your perfume. The almost sheer fabric covering your chest was perfectly accentuating your figure, and the memory of your tits bouncing as Rafe fucked you hard into the mattress flashed through his mind.

It was too much to handle, and Rafe pulled his gaze away from you, taking a large swig of the drink in his hand.

He couldn’t lose you to someone else. He wouldn’t let that happen.

_____________

Despite what you had said to reassure Sarah that you would be fine, you couldn’t lie to yourself and say that being in the Cameron house again wasn’t weird as hell to you.

You had spent many nights just upstairs, usually in Rafe’s room. Being back in the lavish mansion had brought up a lot of memories and feeling in you.

As much as you tried to just lose yourself in the music and have fun, it wasn’t working that way. So you decided the best solution to this would be to get drunk.

Topper had kept your cup full all night, popping back in and out to check on you and Sarah, refilling your drink even when you insisted you wanted to slow down. The fruity drinks Sarah had made proved to be much more alcoholic than you thought they were.

You knew that you could only hold off your bladder for so long, eventually yelling into Sarah’s ear that you were going to go to one of the upstairs bathrooms, knowing you could get a little bit of quiet up there too.

You pushed your way through the large crowd, unknowingly catching the eye of your ex-boyfriend. As you slipped around the corner to get to the double staircase, Rafe pulled away from the countertop he was leering over to quietly follow you up the stairs.

You pulled the bathroom door shut, clicking the lock behind you before you used the restroom. You washed your hands, looking into the mirror, and noticing how glazed your eyes looked and how unsteady on your feet you felt. You hadn’t seen Rafe all night, which you were very happy about, but his absence was still weighing heavily on you.

You didn’t like not knowing where he was. It made you nervous.

You dried your hands off with a towel and opened the door to come face to face with Rafe.

Startled, you shrunk away from him instinctively, your shock at seeing him had you unable to speak.

He stared down at you, eyes revealing nothing as he drank you in. Rafe was thrilled to be so close to you again. Close enough he could see the rising and falling of your chest as you anxiously looked down the hall past him.

His voice was barely audible, whispering, “I miss you.”

Your heart stung, the feelings still deep in your heart stirring again. You knew that he had hurt you so much, you knew that nothing good ever came from being with him.

You met his eyes, and you knew in the pit of your gut that you were going to end up in his arms that night.

This didn’t stop you from letting him put his hands all over you, pulling you from the doorway into his room and pushing your back towards the bed.

You sighed into his mouth as he climbed on top of you, tugging at your shirt and lightly pulling your hair.

Rafe breathed in your scent, never wanting you to leave his arms again. He kissed you hard, tilting your head back to deepen it when you allowed his tongue to probe into your mouth.

Your legs were wrapped around his waist, slowly rolling your hips against him, the layers of clothes covering you both frustratingly getting in the way. You felt him getting harder as you pressed to him, and you felt nervously excited to be with Rafe again, the familiar spark in between your thighs reminded you of how much your body missed him.

Rafe removed his shirt, and yours was close to follow, along with your bra. He peppered kisses all over your tits, cupping them and looking into your eyes as his tongue flicked against a hardened bud. You felt like you were melting into his touch. He traced his fingers to your hips, curling one finger around the material covering you before he pulled your panties down, tossing them somewhere in his room.

Rafe pulled away to pull off his shorts and boxers, making himself bare to you. The strong blond pinned your wrists down with one hand and bringing the other to your entrance.

You hissed out a breath when you felt Rafe push one finger into you, arching your back and rolling your hips against his touch.

Rafe groaned at the sight, barely able to hold himself back from just fucking you already. But he needed to stretch you out first.

You whined as Rafe added a second finger, his thumb also now drawing circles on your clit, making your brain short circuit. You bit your lip to quiet yourself, hooded eyes meeting Rafe’s for a moment before his gaze turned back to watching himself fuck you slowly with his fingers. You were so wet, clinging to him and making a mess on his fingers.

Rafe knew how much he needed you. He didn’t think there was any other way to prove how much he needed you.

Your gasps and moans were pushing Rafe on. He knew that what was coming next was going to be so worth it, on every level. He was going to feel you clenching on every single inch of his cock, squeezing him in a way you never had before.

“Rafe, please,” you begged breathlessly. “Please just fuck me. I need it.”

Rafe was more than happy to oblige, pressing his mouth to yours as he pulled his fingers out of you to stroke his cock.

You gasped loudly against his mouth when he pushed the tip into you. Rafe pulled one of your legs to rest on his shoulder as he sunk into you slowly. Your head lolled back against the pillow when he bottomed out, and you tried to catch your breath before he began to slowly rock his hips.

His eyes never left yours, relishing the way they rolled back when he thrust into you harder, or how you looked at him with surprise when his cock brushed a spot that had you seeing stars.

You had never thought you would find yourself in this position again, but there you were, drunk off your ass and in bed with the ex you knew would never change. And the worst thing was that you loved it. You loved the way he fucked you, how he made you feel when he whispered how good you felt, the way he could make you cum around his cock even when you were pissed off at him.

Rafe couldn’t believe how tight you felt around him, fucking you raw was so addictive he was afraid he would never be able to stop. One of his hands found your throat, and when you looked up at him from under your lashes, he squeezed harder, and the moan that left your lips had Rafe almost ready to marry you on the spot.

You were so overstimulated and you couldn’t hold yourself back from being flung over the edge, closing your eyes and whining as Rafe fucked you through your orgasm. You were milking his cock, walls pulsing around him as he spilled his seed deep in you.

You were breathing heavy, and the overstimulation of him continuing to slowly snap his hips against yours made you come a second time. He could feel you clenching harder around him.

“Fuuuck, Y/N. Just keep taking my cum, pretty girl. You look so hot with it leaking out of you.”

You lazily blinked your eyes, his words not registering at first as you met his gaze with a questioning look.

“Rafe..?”

He was still between your legs, his hard cock buried deep in you.

“R-Rafe?” You suddenly remembered the unused condom in your purse, and a wave of terror and nausea washed over you.

Rafe smirked at the panicked look on your face, “shhh, don’t worry, Y/N. I’ve planned it all out.”

“What do you mea-”

He pressed a kiss to your lips, holding you down as you struggled against him. His cock twitched inside you as you fought back, and he pushed you back down by your shoulders and held you in place.

“Don’t you get it?” You hated how Rafe sounded so pleased with himself, thrilled that his plan worked. “We get to pick up right where we left off. And this time, there’s no way I’m letting you go.”

[ljaylmaoo]

Unexpected

Hook x fem!la bouff!reader

UNEDITED

request: hello! i rarely do any requests but i was wondering if you could write a hook x fem reader where reader is charlotte la bouff's daughter (or if you want to make the timelines match up then charlottes sister) and she's rich and her and hook are secretly dating. thx!! 💕

summary: you and Hook have been secretly dating for the past six months but what happens when your sister Charlotte and best friend Bridget set you up on a date with someone who isn't him?

genre: fluff, a bit of angst?, and more fluff

warnings: mature in terms of language, mention of sex (not much), making out, kisses, argument, dirty joke made by Hook, i think that's it

a/n: sorry it took so long to get this out anon! life can sometimes be a pain in the butt lol, I fixed up a few things in this because i didn't like the way it was going but haven't actually read through it so if there's any errors i apologize. i may fix this up later when i have the time because i feel I could’ve done better but right now i'm just trying to finish the requests i got over the time of writing this. i hope you all enjoy :)

word count: 4.7k

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“I’m sorry, you two did what?”

You stared at the two bubbly girls who stood in front of you who buzzed with excitement, an almost horrified expression plastered across your face, "we set you up on a blind date for tomorrow during lunch!" Your sister Charlotte repeated proudly as Bridget squealed from excitement beside her. Charlotte has always been obsessed with the idea of love and fairytales. Everything about it she has always adored since you were kids, 'The Frog Prince' being her favourite story growing up which had sparked her dream of finding her true love, preferably a prince, and marrying them one day and wanting the same for you. She was in love with love. Bridget was similar but really only wanted what was best for her loved ones. It wasn't just about love for her, she wanted everyone to succeed in any aspect of life, and as of right now for you, it was love.

Now the reason why the two decided to set you up themselves is because you never showed any interest in love and made it known that you didn't really care for it. Every time the topic came up with the two, you would simply go quiet or try to change the subject if it was directed to you as it always seemed to make you uncomfortable. You "despised" it. Or so they thought.

You gave them a disgusted look, "what! Why?" Bridget giggled, "well, we thought we would help you out. We know you're not the biggest fan of relationships and love.." she trailed off, "but maybe if this goes well, you'll see that it isn't as bad as much as you think!" She said with a hopeful tone, Charlotte nodding in agreement. You rolled your eyes and raised your voice a little, "no way!" making Bridgets smile falter slightly. You felt bad for your rude attitude towards them as you knew they only did this out of the goodness of their hearts and you knew where they were coming from.

You didn't actually "hate" love as much as you made it seem. In fact, you were already in a loving relationship of six months with none other than the James Hook, the pretty brunette pirate who was also a VK. But they didn't know that. No one knew about you and James. They couldn't. You and James established that in the very beginning of your relationship, reason being that James was a VK and you and your sister had a bit of a reputation for being rich and your father being well known for being the "most powerful" man of New Orleans. His friends would also give him a hard time if they found out he went for a "good kid" and one of Bridget's friends of all people.

"Come on, y/n! It's just one little lunch date!" Bridget begged you, her energetic voice going up an octave as she pleaded while the two trailed behind you down the corridor of the dormitory, their pleading eyes piercing through the back of your head, "yeah Y/n! What's the worst that could happen? I mean who knows? Maybe you'll enjoy it!" You scoffed, not daring to look at them, "and if I don't?" Your sister grabbed your arm and turned you to face them, stopping you from entering your dorm, "well, I guess you won't know unless you give it a chance." She said softly, "Please y/n.. we just want to show you that it isn't as bad as you think and that there's nothing to be scared of. Love is a beautiful thing that everyone should be able to experience at least once in their life. It's okay to be afraid, but it's not okay to let that fear get in the way of you having the chance to experience that for yourself. I get that you may not be ready for the whole seriousness of it but please at least give it a try just this once? Who knows, maybe you'll find your happily ever after. And if it doesn't work out then we will never bother you again about the topic. Promise." She swore while delicately placing her hand over her heart.

You stared into your sister's eyes taking in every word she said. You felt bad that you had been lying to them about hating love. You did in fact know the way it felt and yes, it truly was an amazing feeling. You just couldn't let them know your truth on why you've been so opposed to their sweet intentions of doing this for you. It's just lunch, right? They don't expect you to be anything special with this unknown person they've set you up with? After giving it a bit of thought, you decided to agree to their request.

You sighed, "fine. I'll do it." The two girls jumped in excitement, clapping their hands together, "but I'm only doing it so you'll stop bothering me about it." The two girls giggled, "I knew we could convince her!" Bridget beamed, Charlotte picking her up and spinning her around as she squealed, "I know! Now come on, we have some more planning to do! See ya tomorrow, sis!" She yelled as she and Bridget ran hand in hand back down the hall giggling as you watched. You shook your head and couldn't help but smile, letting out a small laugh, you loved making your friends happy.

You opened the door and proceeded inside your dorm, "a date, huh?" You stopped in your tracks and jumped as you heard the voice of your boyfriend and quickly glanced up to see James sitting up on the edge of your bed, "Jesus! How long have you been in here? School literally just ended" he laughed, "I had a free period" he replied, a vicious smirk growing, "Merlin had to deal with an emergency and cancelled class." You sighed, "oh no, what did you do this time?" You crossed your arms giving him a disapproving look, he stood up and strutted over to you, "oh don't worry love, it wasn't me this time." He caressed your face, "Morgs and Hades casted a levitation spell on the books in the library." He chuckled as he recalled, you shook your head and sighed, "and then..?" You waited for him to continue earning a confused look from him, "what?" You walked past him and over to your desk beside your bed, "I find it hard to believe that's all you guys did." You stated while placing your homework on your desk as he waited for you to continue, "it was obviously just a distraction." You finished

Hook cautiously wandered up to you with a slow pace, "okay, so maybe Mali and Uli might've also sprinkled something in the cookie batter for tomorrows dessert.." you raised your eyebrows, "I suggest you don't eat any.." he nervously laughed while sitting on your bed beside you, "but me personally no, I didn't do anything this time darling, promise." He took your hand and pulled you down to sit on the bed with him, "now, tell me about this date your sister and friend set up for you." He said in an almost disgusted tone. He always had trouble with hiding his judgmental facial expressions and tone of voice. You sighed, "James, it's just lunch."

"Yeah, but with another guy? Absolutely not." He declared while rolling his eyes at the thought of you being with anyone other than him. You turned to face him fully, "look I know how it sounds, but I only said yes to it because I knew they wouldn't stop begging me until I said yes." He shook his head, "nope, I'm sorry but I cannot let you go out with a boring goody good twat." You raised your eyebrows at his choice of words, and at the fact that he thinks he had the right to control you, it made you upset. "What gives you the right to be able to control what I do?" You sat up straighter on the bed as you stared at him in confusion, anger visible on your now furrowed brows "I'm sorry but I have no choice, James. They don't know that I'm already in a relationship with you and they can't. No one can. We both know that."

James was now upset, jealousy turning to anger as it pulsed through his veins, "yes I know that, obviously." He retorted in a rude tone, "I just don't understand why you still decided to agree to go on this date when you're already in a relationship. What? Just so you can make your annoying little friend and bratty sister happy?" You took a deep breath in anger and stood up, "okay, woah! First of all, you do not get to call Bridget and Charlotte names." You crossed your arms, "I know your hot headed and rather cruel friend group have a very strong disliking towards my friends because they aren't as miserable as them and actually enjoy life. But you do not get to call Bridget annoying or Charlotte a brat just because you're jealous at the fact that I have to go to lunch with someone I don't know and frankly, I don't even want to go on in the first place." James scoffed, "jealous? Me? Oh darling, never." He laughed. Obviously he was jealous, but he had a tendency to hide his insecurities with believable arrogance that even sometimes he started to believe himself.

You groaned in frustration, "yes, Hook! Jealous." You snapped back, "sometimes, actually no, most times you can be so arrogant and full of yourself it gets to be quite annoying." He stood up, your eyes following his figure as he proceeded to yell at you for "having the audacity to shit talk his friends". Your argument went back and forth for a good few minutes. Both taking shots at each other's friends and personalities until finally Hook stopped you when you got in his face about to drag on the argument, his hands rested on your arms as he sighed, "love" he started, the nickname instantly and involuntarily calming you down, your face resting as you waited for him to continue, "lets stop arguing shall we?" He took your hands in his, "this isn't healthy for us. Letting someone we both don't even know get in between us." You looked up into his brown doe eyes before getting pulled into a hug by him, "I'm sorry for getting angry at you. I just don't like the thought of you being with someone else." You eased into his arms, relaxing your tensed body, "I know, I don't like the thought of it either, but I'm doing it for my sister and B." The two of you made up, talking everything out that then lead to a heated make out session with you straddling his lap, hands tangled in his swept back hair as he held the small of your back with his hook and his hand up your shirt.

You both came to a halt at the sound of a knock at your door, fear in your eyes as you heard the sound of Charlotte and Bridget's voices from the other side calling your name, James instantly took his hand out from under your shirt and you jumped off his lap pulling him to hide behind the door. You quickly fixed yourself up before opening the door, "hey, what's up?" You said trying your best to sound as casual as possible, exhaling heavily. Charlotte eyed you with suspicion, "uh, why did you take so long to open the door?" You tilted your head, "yeah, and why are you so out of breath?" Bridget added, you quickly glanced at Hook who was trying his best to stay quiet, "I was in the middle cleaning my room." You lied, "ookay, well we just wanted to ask you about dessert because someone here decided to use all of her flour for the cupcake batches she made last night." Charlotte explained while glaring at Bridget, "hey! I'm sorry! I was working on a new recipe!" She turned to you who was simply staring at them, "it includes flamingo feathers" she explained, you only nodding in faux interest. "It doesn't mean you had to go and use up a whole bag of flour!" Charlotte replied. You sighed, looking over at James who was just as bored as you, listening to them bicker back and forth which was keeping you two from your previous activities. You rolled your eyes, "guys, guys, okay, guys.." You repeated, trying but failing to interrupt their argument, "you guys!" You finally raised your voice, gaining their attention, "what was it that you wanted to ask? I would love to get back to cleaning my room preferably sometime this week." you said sarcastically, the two girls snapping out of it, "oh, right. We were wondering if you were alright with the cookies from the cafeteria for dessert." You looked over at Hook who rapidly shook his head and mouthed the word 'no' reminding you about what they had done to the batter.

"Y/n?" You looked back over at them in panic, "uh, I don't like the cookies from there." You said, "too dry." Hook silently sighed in relief, "you're right. What about brownies then?" You shrugged, "yeah I'm fine with that." They smiled, "okay brownies it is then" You smiled back at them, "okay well now that that's settled, I need to get back to cleaning, I'll see you guys tomorrow?" They nodded and turned, "okay, bye Y/n/n!" You waved and closed your door exhaling. "god I thought they'd never leave" Hook admitted, fixing his hair. You turned to him letting out a small laugh, "sorry about that" coming closer to him, his hands finding their way back to your waist. The two of you enjoyed the thrill of sneaking around, finding the risk of people finding out about your relationship almost exhilarating. You cupped his face and continued kissing him.

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The next morning you were doing your make up before school when James swiftly snuck into your dorm, slamming the door shut behind him. You looked over at him, a look of distress evident on his face as he had his back rested up against the door. "You okay, love?" You questioned, "no!" He cried, you got up and walked closer to him, "why? Whats wrong?" You asked genuinely concerned. He ran up to you and pulled you into his arms, squeezing you tightly as he buried his head into the crook of your neck, "the thought that you have a date with someone else today has been killing me!" He whined. You couldn't help but giggle at his clinginess and jealousy, it was  rare for him not to mask it, there has been times like this before but it has never gotten this severe as you've never had to go on a date with someone other than him. You hugged him just as tight, "oh James, it's okay" you smiled, "how about tonight after curfew we can go to the garden and have a date of our own? A real one." You suggested. He slowly lifted his head off your shoulder and looked at you, "but what if he treats you better? What if you actually do end up falling in love with him and you'd want to be with him instead of me?" He rambled on, speaking the thoughts that had been invading his head all night and morning aloud. "Hey, hey, that's not gonna happen. I promise! No one can or will ever replace you my love." You kissed him softly, "plus no one's as handsome or attractive as you." He grinned, "yeah, I know" You playfully rolled your eyes, "exactly, I don't even have to tell you that cause you already know it's true." He continued smiling, "you don't, but I just like hearing it come out of that pretty mouth of yours." You scoffed and shook your head, "and yet I question why your ego's so big." You pulled away and went to sit back down at your vanity with him following behind, "well I'd probably say it's because the way you scream my name in bed like you did last ni-" you smacked his chest chest, "oh my god, shut up James." You scolded before sitting down on the chair, he only shrugged, "I'm just saying that I'd be surprised if everyone on your floor still don't know we're together after that." You glared at him and picked up your blush and brush and began applying it to your face with light strokes.

He watched you in admiration with a soft smile, "god you're gorgeous darling" he quietly his thoughts out loud again this time in a whisper. You looked up at him in the mirror and met his gaze, a shy smile creeping up, "you're so sweet" he gently cupped the side of your face and placed a kiss on your forehead from above, "I'll see you after school, yeah?" You nodded and gave him one more peck on the lips, "of course." He walked back to the door, "okay, I love you." You smiled, "I love you too."

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You were on your way to class with Bridget and Charlotte, the two telling you about how much they think you'd enjoy the date and that you had nothing to be afraid of when Uliana had come up to you guys, purposely bumping into Bridget as she harshly shoved her causing her to fall, "oops, sorry! Didn't see you there." She giggled evilly. "Hey watch it inky!" You immediately stood up for your pink haired friend while Charlotte helped her up. The VK's all stopped and turned back to you, you looked over at your boyfriend who had a dreaded look on his face, "excuse me?" Uliana stepped closer, Bridget and Charlotte taking a step back behind you in fear, you sighed in annoyance, "I said to watch where you're going." Bridget hiding closer behind you with a squeak while peaking over your shoulder. Uliana glanced at her friends and let out a laugh, "I'm sorry, princess. It's not my fault she's so invisible." She stated, Morgie, Maleficent and Hades looking at you with the same hatred in their eyes as her while Hook was simply watching in silence. "Says the one who has to wear platform boots to not look like a seven year old that I personally find to be a bit tacky." Hook and Charlotte stifled a laugh from escaping their mouths at the insult as you continued, "If you would like some fashion advice, I'd be happy to help" you smiled a painfully fake smile, Uliana stepped closer stopping just inches from your face, the rest of them following, "you keep talking and you'll regret it, so I suggest you watch your mouth and get to class." She hissed, you crossed your arms and stood up straighter, "oh yeah? And what if I don't?" There was a worried look on Hooks face as he was ready to intervene but as Uliana was about to reply she was cut off by the bell causing him and your friends to sigh in relief. You gave her and the group one last smile, "maybe next time. See ya" you shrugged before pushing Bridget and Charlotte away from the group who were still standing in the same spot watching as you strolled down the hall untouched, winking at your boyfriend before turning around.

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Lunch had finally come around and you were on your way to the courtyard where your date was going to be when you were pulled into a dark, empty classroom causing you to squeal. Your mouth was then covered when you were placed up against the wall out of sight. It was Hook who had an unreadable expression on his face, he slowly took his hand off your mouth and you instantly started talking, "what are you doing?!" You whisper yelled, he shushed you as he peeked around the door waiting for the last bit of people to disappear into the cafeteria. You crossed your arms impatiently as he finally turned to you, "why did you have to go and choose a fight with Uli?!" He began, you let out a breathless scoff, "what the hell do you mean by "choose a fight"? She was the one who started it! I was only standing up for B." He sighed, "yeah? Well now she's been non stop talking about you about how she wants to quite literally kill you." You raised your eyebrows, "her words, not mine." He corrected. You shrugged unbothered, "if it means she's gonna stop bothering Bridget, I'm fine with that." He shook his head, "love, I just want you to be careful. You know how much of a bitch she can be, and she has no limits whatsoever. So please, I'm just looking out for you." You took in his words, sighing and nodding and stopped when you heard Bridget and Charlotte talking in the hallway, "where is she? She said she'd be here." You made eye contact with him while you listened to their conversation, "do you think she bailed?" The other sighed, "I wouldn't put it past her." After hearing that, without thinking, you instantly walked out of the classroom and into the hall, you saw the worried expressions wash away as they relaxed, "oh thank goodness you're here. Uh, what were you doing with him?" You tilted your head in confusion and turned to see Hook who seemed to have walked out right after you, you looked back at them, "was he picking on you?" Bridget asked, the worried expression found its way back to her face. You nodded, "yeah, it was just a bunch of empty threats though. I'm fine." You said simply, "y/n, you should be more carefu-" she cut herself off, "you know what never mind, you have a date to get to!" The two started pulling you towards the courtyard, "it's all set up, you're gonna love it!" They explained.

When you entered the courtyard, you saw people scattered around the area, talking and going about their daily lives as always. You then spotted a table with a little cloth over it and a picnic basket and candle on top. You found it cute that your friends did all this just for you. You then looked at the guy sitting there and instantly recognized him as one of the defenders on the tourney team. You took a deep shaky breath, all the guys on the team were assholes and tools. But you decided to trust their better judgement and walked over to him. He looked up at you and stood up, "hey, I'm Daniel." He stuck his hand out to greet you, you smiled, "y/n. Nice to meet you." The two of you sat down, "so how'd B and Charlotte convince you to do this?" You laughed, he smiled, "they didn't have to, they just told me there would be free food and I couldn't turn that down." You both laughed. So far so good.

Hook observed from afar, leaning up against a tree, jealousy and anger bubbled within as he watched as you forced a laugh out while the guy talked. He didn't like how the guy didn't let you talk or how obnoxious he was. Though it wasn't a real date, or so you claimed, he still hated to see someone treat you so poorly. He could see the forced smile on your face, trying your best to act interested in what he was saying. Hook knew you better than anyone, including your own sister, so he knew you were bored and wanted to get out of there as soon as possible. "Hey J, whatcha up to?" Morgie came up from behind him causing him to jump a little, Morgie followed his eye line and smiled, "nothing, just observing.." he said with a disgusted tone which was thankfully perceived as being disgusted by you and not jealousy. Morgie simply nodded, "well, Uli told me to come find you, she has a plan she wanted to share." Hook nodded, not taking his eyes off you, "okay, I'll..." he trailed off when he saw the guy stand up and gave you his hand to take and watched intently as he leaned in with you slowly backing away, "fuck that." he instantly ran up to you, yanking you away and pulling you into a kiss instead causing you to gasp. You pulled away, "what are you-" you stared into his eyes and immediately kissed him again laying your hands on his chest. His soft lips on yours as he pulled you closer, deepening the kiss. You heard audible gasps from Bridget and Charlotte and some whispering from others, Daniel was about to protest but understood what was happening and walked off. You broke the kiss and stared into his eyes, "I love you." You whispered while brushing his hair back that covered his face, he smiled, "I love you too."

"Y/n!" You jumped at the sound of Charlotte's angered voice and looked to the two, her face filled with confused frustration and Bridget beside her with a surprised look, "uh, yeah..?" You said nervously, "I can't believe this." You sighed, ready for the long rant on how it was unacceptable for you to be with a VK. "Look, I'm sorry but.." Charlotte shook her head, "I can't believe you didn't tell us!" Bridget's face lit up, "yeah! Oh my gosh! Y/n, I'm so proud of you!" She enveloped you in a strong warm hug as she spun you around. “How long have you been together?” You chuckled nervously, “uh, about six months” the two girls jaws dropped in shock. After a few moments Bridget spoke up, "now that I think of it, it was so obvious I'm surprised we never put the pieces together!" You frowned, "what do you mean, obvious?" She crossed her arms with a grin, "well, he never picked on you like ever. He only ever listened to you when you would tell them to stop picking on us and today, he had a cute concerned look on his face when you stood up for me!" She thought about it and she lowered her voice, "oh my gosh... were you guys... in the classroom?!" You both shook your heads violently, "no, no, no. We weren't. I swear!" You defended. She looked over at Hook and back over at you, "okay, but does he treat you, you know? Good?" You smiled and looked over at him, "yes, he's a sweetheart actually" Bridget tilted her head in adoration of you two. "really? He's a sweetheart?" Charlotte spoke up in a surprised tone while pointing and looking him up and down, him returning the look to her, "yes, I know. Shocking." You snorted causing him to roll his eyes and the girls giggle. You looked behind the girls and met eyes with Morgie who was with the rest of the VKs who were looking at you with a glare, then the thought hit you. You turned to James, "oh... what about your friends?" He followed to where you were looking and sighed, "I'll deal with them later. I'm just happy we can finally stop hiding." You both smiled at each other lovingly and he gave you a light kiss on the forehead. "Me too."

Charlotte and Bridget being able to see you be in love made them feel like proud parents, ecstatic about the fact that their sister and best friend had possibly found her happily ever after.

[verdemoun]

Fun fact, Kieran may have been originally supposed to live longer, at least judging by his many unused voice lines (found on YouTube) and a longer hairstyle which I actually think looks better for him (found on rdr wiki of cut content). Maybe he was supposed to go to Guarma? The voice lines to me suggested going on hunting missions with him but I’m not too sure.

spoilers. obviously

fun fact i have listened to the 2+ hours of Kieran's cut voice lines so many times even my housemates know it and groan when they walk in and i'm listening to it. Did you know one of his cut voice lines for a near miss in a shootout is 'whoo, nearly took my head off!' to foreshadow his eventual demise? And he has several variations of lines telling Arthur to rest with the gentlest tone suggesting he would have been one of the few characters to show concern for Arthur's illness in later chapters? And slightly less relevant but there is a cut interaction in where he asks Jack to sneak him some food only for Arthur to threaten to kill him BUT CALLING HIMSELF UNCLE KIERAN???

screenshots by cad5150

About Guarma, all but confirmed. Here is one of his cut outfits, which I think very obviously suits the vibe of what most of the gang wore in Guarma like compare it to Micah's Guarma outfit in particular. Additionally he has this hood as an outfit accessory: some people think it was intended that when he rides into camp Horsemen Apocalypse there's a moment of the hood being taken off and then the characters having a much more visceral reaction to his eyes being gauged out but personally I think it makes way more sense that he was meant to be in Banking, the Old American Art 'replacing' Sean as an extra gun. Which would have been really cool because I would have loved a conversation where they bring up they're a gun short and it spiral into more reflection on how they're not just a gun short, they're a man down, they lost the 'joy in their lives' Sean Macguire and they were still hurting instead of just NEVER MENTIONING HIM AGAIN other than a few rare character lines.

Side tangent also his scarf is different in his guarma outfit which is it's own essay because if you're going off the blue high honor red low honor theory this so strong implies we could have seen some really cool character development. looking at what the gang were wearing in banking and then in guarma there's no obvious explanation as to where he got it. how cute would it have been if we got a scene where mary-beth gifted him a scarf?? but the also terrifying implication that we might see kieran become less high honour good boy blorbo to someone a bit more morally ambiguous?

I think the question really is how he would have fit in in Guarma, which of course we will never know and considering how much cut content there is about Guarma. Like everyone else in Guarma makes sense: Dutch's descent into immorality being so clear even Arthur questions it, Bill being the one trusted to look after Javier following his rescue, supporting their friendship in rdr1, Micah reaffirming his position as an actual piece of shit in his lines responding to Hosea and Lenny's deaths and complete lack of empathy. Maybe a kieran who is slightly more ruthless and active in shootouts in guarma but also shows compassion for arthur as arthur gets sick? Maybe the attack on Hanging Dog Ranch was meant to be more a revenge for Kieran's death assuming he was taken and killed similarly to his death in chapter 4 (given how much much foreshadowing there is for his death), but just another misery in chapter 6 that hits harder because we have more time to grow attached and see him develop?

Except. Except then we get to cut outfit kieran.

first. hellooooo sailor. but who is this man. who is this man who looks older. and wears a very, very low honour red scarf. and is obviously dressed still as an outlaw, and didn't go live a happy life with mary-beth. is it. is it possible. kieran was not always meant to be doomed by the narrative??

is it possible we would have seen kieran become more loyal to dutch and micah, true to his army abandoning, gang jumping, choosing to ride with the o'driscolls rather than die, immediately 'loyal' to the vdls despite torture because being alone meant certain death, coward nature? or would he have just been a character john could encounter in the epilogue? perhaps shaken by knowing arthur, as one of his very, very few friends, died trying to be a better person and abandoned any effort to be more than an outlaw?

but. but kieran. shirt all buttoned up. scarf on. thick coat. hair slightly feral and wild. why does it looked like you're all dressed up for the cold, buddy? like- like you might have been hiding out up mount hagen.