#I’m patting your face gently in between my hands!!!

[all4aoki]

  ⊹ 𝓜IXED 𝓤P 𝓛EAVE 𝓜E 𝓐LONE ⠀Ꮺ ָ࣪ ۰ ִ

it takes time for people to change . . . enha x f!reader (yjw focused), poly!enha, enha8thmember

wc . . . 18.2k , warnings! my poor attempts of writing angst, YN’s a little insensitive with the concept of a poly relationship but it’s new to her so it’s fine, she also cries a lot, alcohol, daddy issues & mommy issues, familial struggles in general, her dad makes a rude comment to Won, rushed writing, me guessing stuff about being an idol, not proofread

DISCLAIMER! I’m not assuming anything about Jungwon’s family. They’re barely mentioned and are soley used as a way for him & reader to connect

when speaking in … korean, english, japanese

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©all4aoki, 2024

     You had always dreaded your birthday month. 

There was never a specific reason, apart from the intense emotions that would never fail to arrive with April. When you lived in New Zealand, it was because of the first term of your school year ending. When you were studying in Paris, your life had been stressful during every waking moment due to the competitive environment of young girls vying to stay in the program. The hopes of becoming a dancer at the company outweighing anything else that might have once been important. Not to mention the intense living environment. And then, as a trainee, you were so focused on evaluations and working for your spot as an idol that you almost forgot to keep track of the days. 

Long story short, you were never able to enjoy your birthday. At some point, you had concluded that the day came with so much stress and anxiety, that you would never be able to bask in the fact that those hours were supposed to be all about you, spent celebrating your existence. 

This year, though, was a completely different scenario. 

Enhypen had been spending the days working towards their second comeback, and you could already tell it would be one of significance. You were all finally establishing your style of music and to say the least, it was a genre that you thoroughly enjoyed. It was just a plus that the other members liked everything about it as well. The recording process was finally something you were beginning to truly understand, and the dancing–well, the dancing had always been easy for you. One of the only things that you felt confident in and had maintained a passion for despite the challenges you’d endured. 

When April 7th came the year of your seventeenth birthday (eighteen by Korean standards), you’d found yourself in the practice room. Once again with the routine for Border: Carnival’s title track.

Sweat was beginning to perspire on the sides of your neck and the skin beneath your tank top and sweatpants was warm. You pushed stringy pieces of your hair out of your face, huffing out a breath of air as you got into position for the second verse yet again. Of course, you’d forgotten a hair tie. 

Thankfully, though, Jay hadn’t. As you passed him to get to your spot behind Riki, he gently wrapped his arms around your shoulders, spinning you back towards him. 

“Is a low pony okay?”

The grin on your face probably made you look like an idiot as your boyfriend began sweeping your hair, which was getting maybe a bit too long, off your skin. 

“Be careful, it’s kind of knotty right now,” you said softly as Jay smoothed some of the bumps that had formed as he pulled your hair back for you. Giddiness spiraled through your heart as he secured the hair tie that he’d been beginning to keep on his wrist at all times in your hair. His hands patted your shoulders gently as he steered you back to your place in the formation just as the choreographer finished talking with Riki. 

“There you go, birthday girl.” As you glanced over your shoulder at Jay, the subtle shade of red on his ears almost made you giggle. You could tell he wanted to do more than touch your hair, but with the circumstances, you knew he wouldn’t. 

Whatever throuple had been formed between Jay, Sunghoon, and you had quickly become the light of your life. Of course, it wasn’t without its struggles, but slowly, you were all starting to fall into a pattern that worked. A way where you could show your love for them equally while they expressed their love for you as well without the other getting too jealous. It was early in your relationship with Jay still, and for that reason, the three of you had yet to share the fact that you were practically being shared with the others.

It was moments like these where you wished that it wouldn’t be like this much longer. Where you wouldn’t have to hide your affection for both of your boyfriends in front of your other loved ones. Where you could dote on them like the loving girlfriend you strived to be because they both deserved that and more.

“Let’s walk through the counts for Riki’s part one more time,” the choreographer announced. You shifted your body weight into the balls of your feet as you spread your legs apart, preparing to move through the moves slower than what should’ve been humanly possible. 

Cleaning was always the most tedious part of any routine. Especially when it came to comebacks. One more time became two became three and then every time you closed your eyes all you could think of was the minuscule details that had been instructed upon your group. 

You wondered how long it would take for you to get tired of performing this song. Every day you would have a different opinion of how you felt about the melody you were moving to. Nine times out of ten, you adored every part of your job. But there were fleeting moments where you never wanted to hear the lyrics again. 

And unfortunately, despite only being a few hours into the dance rehearsal, you’d reached that point with Drunk-Dazed. It was probably only going to last for the rest of the day, but as you exited the marking stage of cleaning the second verse, you were growing tired. Maybe that feeling of this birthday being different was something your intuition had gotten wrong because that exhaustion you’d gotten so used to was finally showing its face. 

Your knees met the hardwood floor again as you dropped down between Jungwon and Heeseung, and you could only hope that the hits you were performing were sharper than they felt. Exhaustion blooming in your muscles, you pushed yourself back to your feet, bending your legs and folding at the waist, letting the beat control your tempo and trusting your body to deliver despite being on auto-pilot. 

Snap back up. Feet out. Twist right heel. Left arm out–

Pain snapped up through your nose as Jungwon’s hand collided with your face. Instantly, your right hand shot to the throbbing exuding from your nose, but your feet continued moving. 

The music didn’t stop. The only notice you got was the choreographer yelling at you to move a step back when it came to that formation. 

Only when Jake slid into the center as the pre-chorus began did the room finally go silent. 

“Your guys’ heads are all different angles right now,” the choreographer said as she moved to stand facing the mirror so you all could see her. “Top left-hand corner. Heeseung, your head is too far back…”

You didn’t hear the rest of what she said, opting to focus on the marks of red on the back of the hand that you pulled away from your nose. It was difficult not to groan in annoyance, and when your face reflected your emotions, more discomfort came from your nose as it scrunched up. 

“YN-ie’s bleeding,” Jungwon said, voice loud enough for the choreographer to hear. As well as everyone else. Including your two boyfriends, who quickly jerked in your direction, but the staff in charge swiftly stopped them.

“Jungwon go help her. YN, your part’s next so try to make it as quick as possible.”

Your fingers found the spot beneath the nostril that was bleeding, “Okay!” Following her instructions, you hastily moved across the practice room to your bags as Jungwon grabbed some tissues before heading over to the spot you were standing in. 

One of his hands found the back of your head, fingers disrupting the position of some of your hair and causing some flyaways. “Tilt your head back… There you go,” he murmured as you did what your leader asked. “Keep pinching your nose bridge,” Jungwon added as he held some of the tissues under your nostrils.

You weren’t particularly fond of this position. Or how soft his voice was. Unsure of what to say as he tended to your injury, you cleared your throat, “You could grab a tampon from my bag. We can just stick it up my nose and call it quits.”

Jungwon scoffed out a chuckle, rearranging the tissues so a clean part continued soaking up the blood. 

“Then all the blood would go to your brain and you would move even slower than you are right now.”

You pretended to pout, “I’m not slow. And that’s probably the most inaccurate thing that I’ve heard all day.”

“Really?” Jungwon laughed at the joke in his head before he even said it. “You spend the majority of your time with Sunghoon but that’s the most inaccurate thing you’ve heard?”

Side-eyeing him, you push away the hand that was holding the tissues under your nose. “Don’t be mean,” you laugh, trying to take the soft papers from his hand. Jungwon tries to avoid your grasp.

“Let me help you,” Jungwon says as he slaps your hand away, placing the tissues back beneath your nose. “It’s your birthday after all.”

You sigh, “One birthday where I don’t have to do anything is all I’ve ever wanted, but no–” The pressure on your nose shoots up through your nerves again and you let out a small, ‘Ow’. Jungwon instantly pulls away, muttering lots of small “Sorry’s”. You smile at him gently, fighting the remaining soreness of your nose as you do so, “It’s okay, Oppa.”

“If it makes you feel better,” he says softly, “I know how you feel.”

You take a moment, swallowing harshly as your ears distantly pick up the sounds of the choreographer working with the other members. “Nobody knows exactly how you feel,” you say, trying to keep your voice low. Jungwon smiles a little at your words, and as you look at his eyes, you can see how they’re trained on your nose and the work he’s doing to stop the bleeding. 

“Okay…” he huffs, the small smile still tilting the corners of his lips up, “Can I say I’ve been in the same situation before?”

You shrug, trying not to laugh, “You can say whatever you want.”

Jungwon shoots you a look as he fixes the tissues under your nose again. It was easy to forget that Jungwon was older than you, even if it only was by two months, and that you needed to treat him with the same respect the older members expected from you too. The way he looked at you, the way he spoke to you, it was just so effortless to let sarcasm and teasing slip into your conversations, causing your words that would probably give Heeseung a heart attack if you ever said them to him. 

“My family…” Jungwon starts quietly, and you can see the way the light behind his warm eyes dims a bit. “They expected a lot from me no matter the circumstances, or the day, or whatever–” he cuts himself off, and you can tell that he’s frustrated at the fact he can’t find the right words. 

“Take your time,” you offer gently. Jungwon nods, unable to meet your eyes.

Eventually, he pulls the tissues away from your nose, and you lower your chin again. No more blood slips from your nostrils, and you figure you should probably rejoin the group. But a larger part of you wants to continue this conversation with Jungwon. Your feet stay glued to the same spot as you hear the choreographer call your guys’ names. The boy in front of you instantly drops the vulnerable look on his face, offering a smile that is clearly fake to the staff as he nods. And then you’re turning around to head back into the formation, leaving the topic back in the corner of the room.

Your eyes meet Sangmi’s, and your best friend raises her eyebrows at the dazed expression you’re sporting. All you can manage is a small shake of your head, wordlessly telling her to drop it. With the way her mouth presses into a thin line, you conclude she’s suppressing a laugh and you resist the urge to go over and smack her upside the head.

“YN-ssi,” the sharp voice of the choreographer cuts through your thoughts, and your head snaps to look over at her. She gestures for you to get into your spot and you nod once, following the directions.

“Yes, yes. Sorry.” As you begin working through your moves in the pre-chorus, the once bothersome sound of the beat served as the perfect thing to distract you from overthinking Jungwon’s words. 

Sunghoon and Jay are quick to attach themselves to your sides the moment those three and a half hours finish, Sunghoon being able to wrap his arm around your waist while Jay keeps an appropriate distance from you. 

“I’m fine, Hoon,” you mutter as your boyfriend takes hold of your chin to try and tilt your head up.

Sunghoon looks down at you and you puff out a small breath, “We need to wrap you in bubble wrap or something, I swear you’re always getting hurt.”

You push away his hand as it tries to touch your nose. 

“Stop.”

Jay chuckles as he leans down to collect your bag along with his, enjoying the sight of you playfully scolding Sunghoon. 

“Sunghoon-ah, Jungwon-ie took care of her. You touching her nose would probably make it worse.” Sunghoon’s lips turn down into a frown and you feel your heart melt a little at the cute sight. Halfheartedly, you reach up to ruffle Sunghoon’s hair, the strands damp with perspiration. 

“Thank you for being concerned, Hoon, but I really am okay.” 

The younger’s dark eyes dart over to Jay before they settle back on you as he sighs deeply, wrapping both of his arms around you in a small hug.

“Some birthday you’re having.” You laugh at his words as he presses his chin onto your shoulder.

Your line of vision turns to Jay, “Some birthday I’ll be having when I’m home, back in bed and cuddling with you both.” Jay reaches out to hold onto your arm as you begin to move away from Sunghoon, jerking towards the direction of the door. 

Jay glances around the room for a moment, and you realize that Jungwon, Sunoo, and Heeseung have already left. “Just– wait here for one more second,” Jay says quietly as you grip onto Sunghoon’s forearms that are still wrapped around you. 

“Why? People have already started leaving–” 

The majority of the lights in the room turn off as the door pushes open, a cluster of flames held by Jungwon being the only light source as the boy, along with the rest of your members approach you. When you set your eyes on the cake, their singing meeting your ears as a sort of fondness fills your heart. You don’t remember the last time someone sang to you like this on your birthday. Cake and all.

Your eyes dart around to each of their faces, taking in the way the glow of the fire makes their features shine in a golden light. The shadow of Heeseung’s lashes, the fondness of Jay’s smile, the way Jake’s eyes turn up slightly as he grins, Sunghoon’s hair falling in front of his eyes, the soft flush growing on Sunoo’s cheeks like rosebuds, and Riki’s plump lips forming over the words of the song. Sangmi’s little claps to the uneven beat and… the way Jungwon’s looking at you. 

His eyes are shining. You always thought that when people described eyes like that, it never made sense, but the gleam in his pupils proves you wrong. Something jerks in your chest, but before you can think about it for too long, your members have finished the song. All of them stare at you as they wait for you to blow out the candles. 

“Make a wish,” Jungwon whispers, your eyes flicking back to his to still see the sparkle evident. Clutching your hands together in front of your chest, you lean forward, thinking for a moment before gently blowing the flames out. The rest of the group claps as you stand up straight to smile at them, the lights in the practice room flicking back on. 

As Jungwon hands the cake off to one of the staff, Jay reaches to wrap an arm around your middle before the younger speaks up again. “What’d you wish for?” You can’t tell him. Not because of the whole saying that wishes wouldn’t come true if you said them aloud, but because you just–couldn’t. “Now why would I tell you that?” At least you could still make him laugh.

When you get back to the dorm, there’s an hour left of your birthday. And you’re exhausted. 

The group enters the small house, voices still loud despite the long day of training and preparation as you all kick off your shoes and remove your coats. Sunghoon’s following you so closely as you enter the dorm that his scent is the only thing you can smell and you turn around to look at him.

“Tired?” You nod and he repeats the action back to you. “Wanna go to bed?”

You glance down at your phone screen and the sight that meets you has a sudden rush of sadness overwhelming you. 

“I think I want to sleep alone tonight…” As you trail off, Sunghoon furrows his thick brows a little.

“Is something wrong? Thought you wanted to cuddle?”

You smile weakly, trying to play off the tightness that’s growing quickly and suddenly in your chest. “Nope. Just don’t wanna have to share with a bed-hog tonight.” Your boyfriend smiles at you, hand reaching out to rub your arm softly. 

“I don’t hog the bed, but if that’s what you want, then of course…” he pauses for a moment, hand still brushing over the skin of your bicep and sending little sensations through you. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

You’re nodding before you can even process it. “If I wasn’t I would tell you. Or Jay.”

Sunghoon might still be a little suspicious, you can’t tell, but he hides it well. His lips form a firm line as he wraps his arms around you in a weak hug, chin resting on your hair as you both still stand in the entrance of the dorm, all of the other members already spreading out throughout the home. Your mind drifts to Jay for a moment, before Sunghoon places a soft kiss on your head.

“Wait for a second, Jay’s getting your present from us.”

“Can we save it for tomorrow?” you say after a beat of silence and you regret it right away. Sunghoon pulls back a bit, expression reading concern again as you rush to cover your words. “I’m just really tired–”

“What’s wrong?” Jay approaches the two of you, a small and poorly wrapped box in his hands. 

You shake your head and force a smile for what feels like the hundredth time as you shift in Sunghoon’s arms. “Nothing. Did you guys wrap that yourselves?”

They both chuckle. “Is it that obvious?” Sunghoon asks.

“Unfortunately,” you tease them, taking the gift from Jay while uttering a small ‘Thanks’. 

Jay tilts his head to the side as your eyes stay down, refusing to meet his own. “You gonna go to bed?” A soft hum of agreement leaves your throat and Jay’s head moves in an understanding nod. Sunghoon lets go of you as you move to hug your boyfriend. 

“I’ll open this tomorrow morning with you guys. Try to make my birthday last as long as possible.”

Jay smiles before kissing you softly. The touch of his lips helps to soothe the dull feeling of pain in your heart. He pulls away, thumb running gently over your cheek as Sunghoon watches you both. 

“You’re so loved, do you know that?”

How did they see through you so effortlessly? How did they just always know? It didn’t feel fair sometimes and you have to swallow thickly to push down your tears. “I know,” you confirm quietly and Jay smiles a little again as Sunghoon kisses your cheek. 

“Good. Because we love you so much,” Jay continues and you hope your face shows him how much you truly appreciate his words. 

“I love you both too. So much.”

They both give you one more quick kiss before releasing you from their grips. You stand still for another moment, just taking in the sight of them both and letting yourself soak in their love. Sometimes, you don’t know what you did to deserve it, but you have to always promise yourself to appreciate it more than anything else you have in your life. 

“Good night.”

“Good night. Happy birthday, princess,” Sunghoon says and you smile watery at them both before turning to walk down the hallway to your room. 

As you enter the space, closing the door behind you, you don’t bother to turn the lights on. That dreaded feeling that you can only describe as heavy, and scary, weighing on you as you place the birthday present on your desk before going to sit on your bed. 

11:46 P.M. You unlock your phone slowly, going to contacts and pressing on the one you’re looking for. The line rings twice before you hear your sister pick up the call.

“HAPPY BIRTHDAY!” she cheers from the other side and you laugh at the sound of her voice. From the way her words are rough, you can tell she's just woken up. “You’re an adult now… Oh my god, you’re getting old.”

“At least I’m not 24. You’re almost halfway to thirty.” 

Your sister shushes you, “You’re lucky it’s your birthday, otherwise I wouldn’t let that slide.” You laugh. Hearing her talk takes you back to a time when you were younger. The familiarity of her accent makes you think about New Zealand, about your home, and how easy things were when you were growing up. Nostalgia and sadness are a dangerous combination, and you push them away from your heart to the best of your ability. 

“I sent you a card. I don’t think it’ll get to Korea anytime soon, but it’s on the way,” she continues and you’re thankful for the way she keeps talking. “Did you have a good day?”

“Mhm,” you hum. “It was busy, but it was good.”

“That’s good,” she says before she’s quiet for a moment. “Have mum and dad said anything?” 

That’s what you had been waiting for–the other shoe to drop. You try to not start crying instantly. 

“Um… not yet,” you offer pathetically. She kisses her teeth on the other side of the phone. Then she mutters something under her breath. You don’t bother trying to catch it, you know she’s probably insulting them. “But you know, there’s still time.”

Nine minutes.

“Don’t worry about it, Sissy.” She says as you reach up to rub at your eyes. 

“I know I shouldn’t. It just sucks.” You suck in a deep breath. “I thought… I thought that they would at least wish me a happy birthday, you know?” Your voice grows shaky, and the first tear falls. You wipe it away before it gets even halfway down your cheek. 

“I know,” your sister tries to comfort you. “They’ll come around eventually, YN. They’re shitty parents, but you’re their daughter. They can’t stay mad at you for following your dreams forever.” 

More tears escape your eyes, “I hope not.” And you really do. No matter how much you want to hate them for the way they’ve treated you since you joined I-Land, you can’t. Maybe you’re too forgiving, or maybe it’s the fact that they’re just the people who are supposed to love you no matter what. “I’m, um… I’m gonna go.”

“Okay,” your sister doesn’t protest, knowing that you probably want to be alone right now. “I love you.”

Her words make you smile a little, “I love you too.” And then you hang up the call. 

You don’t want to dwell on it, you’ve already done that enough for probably the rest of your life. You feel embarrassed as you sit on the edge of the bed, staring blankly at your phone screen, watching as the clock ticks closer to the next day and waiting for even just the smallest message from your parents. It never comes.

Time passes quickly after that. You want to throw your phone, want to smash it into pieces as that sadness from being neglected turns into anger. It was a cycle you were used to, and you still hadn’t learned how to cope with it. When Sangmi comes into your shared room, you finally get up to change out of your clothes and into your pajamas. Usually, you both would talk a little before bed, but it seems like she’s even more tired than you, because as soon as her head hits the pillows, the sound of her soft snores fills the silence. 

You try to fall asleep, tossing and turning and trying to think of anything else, but it’s no use. Your emotions are too heavy and it feels like nothing will make you feel better. Not even Jay or Sunghoon. Eventually, you peel back the covers of your bed, slipping out of your room quietly as you go to the kitchen to try and find any melatonin that you might’ve left in the cabinets. 

The dorm is dark as you slip through the hallways, everyone else is asleep or at least tucked away in their rooms as you enter the kitchen. The tile is cool on your feet as you quietly pad over to the cabinets above the stove, the different temperature helping to ground you a bit. You stand on your toes as you open the first one. Nothing. The next. Nothing. The next. Nothing–

“What’re you doing?” You let out a small yelp, jumping slightly as you startle, hand releasing the cabinet door and causing it to slam shut. Both you and Jungwon flinch at the loud slam. Neither of you speak, listening to hear if the sound woke anyone up. It’s almost eerie how quiet the dorm is. 

You clear your throat, turning around fully to face the boy standing on the other side of the kitchen island. “I couldn’t sleep,” you admit, crossing your arms over your chest. “I was gonna get some melatonin, but I couldn’t find any…”

Jungwon doesn’t say anything for a moment. “...We keep all of the medications and medicine in the bathrooms.”

“Oh,” you laugh weakly. “You’re right. I must’ve been thinking about… What we did at home.” Your bottom lip trembles at the realization. God, you missed being at home so badly. You missed being with your family so badly. “Sorry,” you mumble as you feel the water slip down your face, “Sorry, I don’t know why I keep crying.”

Jungwon is rushing around the kitchen island as you lift your hands to your face, trying to hide the way your features scrunch together as you begin crying. He pulls you into his arms, shushing you softly as his hands squeeze you tightly. Distantly, you remember something about how pressure can help calm anxiety and stress, but the front of your mind is focused on how everything hurts. 

“I don’t know what I did, Wonnie, I don’t know why they won’t talk to me,” you say through small breaths, soaking the fabric of his shirt. 

He tries to look down at your face, but you’re pressed too tightly against his body. “Who? Who isn’t talking to you?”

“My parents,” you say and you miss the flicker of heartbreak on Jungwon’s face. 

Jungwon sucks in a deep breath, “Can you breathe with me for a second?” 

“Okay,” you agree weakly. His chest rises against yours as he takes a breath and you count to four as he holds it before letting it out. You let your thoughts slip away from you as you listen to the steadiness of his heartbeat and follow along with his breathing. A few minutes pass, but your crying slowly comes to a stop. Jungwon glances down at you.

“Let’s go get you back to bed,” he says softly. As you stare blankly in front of you, eyes tracing over the wet spot your eyes have left on his t-shirt over and over, circles and circles, his hands run over your arms again. “YN?”

Your eyes flutter a little, breaking out of the way you’d been spacing out, “Yeah… yeah, okay.” Maybe Jungwon doesn’t want to let go of you as you move to walk past him, but one of his hands pathetically tries to grab at your sleeve. You let it fall. And you ignore the pang of guilt you feel for the small action. Distantly, his footsteps follow you to the bathroom he shares with Heeseung, Sunghoon, and Riki. They’re not as loud as yours and you can tell he’s wearing socks. 

Crazy, you think to yourself lamely, how can someone sleep with socks on?

He waits until you’re both inside the bathroom, door swinging shut before he flicks the light on–the blaring, white flashes through the space, making both of you flinch from how bright it is. A gentle hand on your shoulder guides you to sit on the closed toilet as Jungwon moves to one of the drawers. Trying to provide yourself some comfort, you cross your arms over your stomach, hiding your hands in the long sleeves of the crewneck. 

“Here,” Jungwon whispers, crouching down in front of you as he offers you two of the dark purple gummies. You don’t meet his eyes as you take them, popping one in your mouth at a time and chewing slowly before swallowing. It takes thirty minutes for them to work. You don’t want to stay awake for thirty more minutes.

Jungwon sits on the tile of the bathroom floor, shoulder practically brushing your knee as he folds his own up to his chest.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

You shake your head.

“Do you want me to stay?”

You nod. 

From the way he falls silent, you know he’s struggling with what to say. Whether it’s for the sake of simply breaking the silence or for trying to comfort you, you don’t care. You just want to hear his voice. Something that’s familiar, something that you can trust, and that you know will make you feel better. Because that’s always the way it’d been with Jungwon: easy. And not a lot of things felt easy anymore, so maybe you clung onto that and held him to that expectation a little too much, but you couldn’t help it. It was annoying, feeling useless in these scenarios. 

“Earlier,” Jungwon finally speaks up. Neither one of you looks at the other when he utters the small word, but you don’t have to. You know what he’s going to talk about and you don’t need to see the expression on his face as you hear the emotions in his voice. 

“What I was going to say was, I know what it’s like to have high expectations set for you. And I know how much it can destroy you when you don’t meet those expectations.” He sucks in a deep breath, but as he keeps talking, you hear the vulnerability slowly disappear. He was entering leader mode. This wasn’t the same Jungwon that was talking to you earlier, this Jungwon was trying to teach you something.

“Not for yourself, but for the people you wanted to meet those expectations for.”

You finally look at him. He’s staring at the wall and you count to ten before he blinks slowly. He looks tired and suddenly, you feel bad for having him stay with you like this. “I’m the one that’s hardest on myself. I do everything for myself.”

When Jungwon makes eye contact with you, you watch as walls begin to break down again. And you feel your own reservations fading as well.

“No, you don’t.” 

You hate that he’s right. “I’ve been trying to figure it out since I met you… You make sacrifices for everyone, YN-ie, sometimes I feel like you make more than I do. And I’m the leader.”

“I care about you guys–”

“You think that the only way you can make us like you is if you do everything for us. If you act the way you think we want you to act.”

Okay.

It was too late at night to be analyzed like this and the day was too full of emotions and Jungwon’s words just make you angry. “You don’t know what you’re talking about–”

“You know how I grew up,” he continued. “With my grandma, because my parents were always busy. I know they loved me. I know they love me, but there were and are times when I’ve felt like I was never doing enough to be worthy of their love.”

“Jungwon, seriously–” 

“I don’t want you to feel like you have to hide anything around me anymore,” he pushes, voice soft. You hate the way that it almost seems like he’s being so careful with words all of a sudden after dropping everything on you like that. “Anything from us– we love you YN and we want you to trust us…”

“It’s not that simple…” 

This conversation isn’t going to progress anywhere else, that much you can tell. The melatonin may not fully be in effect yet, but you can feel the symptoms slowly start and you welcome the drowsiness wholeheartedly. With the way Jungwon looks at you, you know he’s thinking the same thing, and your eyes stay on his face as he pushes himself up from the ground.

“I’m sorry,” he says and you wish you could tell him it’s okay. “I didn’t mean to– I didn’t mean to be so… intense.”

When he offers you a hand, you take it, and he gently pulls you into another hug. It feels nice being held like this now that the onslaught of emotions from the previous couple of hours has passed through you. 

“I just. I just wish you could see what I see.” His voice is soft, and you nod against his chest, eyelids finally drooping. “D’you want to walk?”

Your voice is strained, “No.”

You don’t have to ask him to carry you, Jungwon’s already lifting you into his arms and turning off the bathroom light before exiting back out into the hallway. The silence is welcomed by you as he walks you back to your room, his arms strong around you, and you wonder when he’d grown up so much without you noticing. You feel your mind begin to drift, eyes falling shut as he carefully pushes your room’s door open, doing his best not to wake Sangmi. 

The warm and comforting touch of your bed causes you to melt into the sheets instantly as Jungwon lays you down. Subconsciously, you feel him lift your hair off your neck, knowing you hate the feeling of it rubbing against your skin while you sleep, and sense your covers being pulled up to your chin, another thing of comfort. 

You’re practically asleep when you feel his lips ghost over your forehead, the sensation is barely there, but you still feel it. 

“Please don’t be mad at me.”

You fall unconscious before you hear him say anything else.

Things between you and Jungwon don’t change in the slightest. In fact, neither of you bother to acknowledge what had happened a few nights ago. You don’t need to see his thoughts to know that the conversation is playing on a loop in his mind as well. There's the tiniest bit of tension like he’s walking on eggshells around you and is scared to say the wrong thing. It’s clear he feels bad for everything he’d said that night too, with how he’s begun focusing more and more of his attention on you–not letting you lift a finger to do anything. You were going to just let things fizzle out on their own, hopefully working up enough courage to talk to him about things, but Jay pushes things into motion before you can process it anymore. 

“I’m worried about Jungwon.”

You look up at him from your spot on his chest, resting your chin on him as you furrow your eyebrows. “What do you mean?” Jay brushes his thumb over your cheekbone as he looks at you. Awkwardly, you laugh a little, “What?”

“He seems like he’s throwing himself into things too much,” he explains.

You purse your lips a little, eyes flicking around his face while trying to tell what he’s thinking. “Elaborate.”

Jay huffs out a laugh. “I know he’s still getting used to being our leader, and he’s doing an amazing job but I think that he’s too focused on making sure everyone else is happy–”

“And not taking care of himself,” you finish, nodding slightly as you understand where your boyfriend’s coming from. Looking back over the past week, you can’t believe that you hadn’t noticed that yourself. Your observation skills were something you were extremely proud of, and the little signs of Jungwon coming back to the dorms later than the rest of the members, politely refusing to join the group’s activities because he was busy planning better ways to lead practice, and receiving hours upon hours of talks with your manager was something you should’ve put together sooner. 

You shift slightly to lay your head back down, and Jay’s arms wrap back around your middle. “I think you’re one of the only people he’ll listen to.”

“Oppa–”

“I’m being serious. I don’t know if it’s because you guys are closer in age or what, but he connects with you really well.” You weren’t really sure either, but you knew Jay was right. “Could you please talk to him? Not for me, but for him?”

His caring for the younger boy made your heart soften. It was one of the things you loved most about Jay–how attentive he was even if he didn’t always want to show it. Turning your head a little, you smile softly and nod, causing Jay to smile as well. 

“Of course.” He kisses you gently.

There’s no point in wasting time. Partly because you don’t know when you’re going to get a day off again and because you now have a growing concern for Jungwon. Later that day, your mind drifts back to that night where you’d both sat in the bathroom together as you stand in the kitchen, filling up your water bottle as you wait for Jungwon to show his face in the dorms again. How could he ask you to not hide anything from him when he was hiding things from you? Well, not necessarily hiding, but neglecting. 

Sure, Jungwon and you still had a ways to go in terms of opening up to one another, but Jay was right in the sense that you guys connected on a level that you hadn’t with any of the others. Even Sunghoon and Jay. Cold water splashes over your hand as your water bottle overflows and instantly, you’re pulling away and mentally scolding yourself for getting distracted. 

Distantly though, you hear the familiar timber of your fellow 04-liner’s voice, followed by Jake’s accent. Leaving your water bottle on the counter, you exit the kitchen, going into the living room where they’re both standing together, huddled around Jungwon’s phone. 

“Hey,” you say and they both look up at you, their wide eyes making your heart stutter pathetically in your chest. “What’re you guys doing?”

Jungwon clears his throat, “Just… looking over schedules for tomorrow.” 

Oh, he’s definitely lying.

You raise the corners of your lips, doing your best to put on a charming smile as you move closer to them. “Jungwon-oppa are you doing anything else today?”

“Well–” 

“Perfect, can we go get coffee?” You don’t let him finish, and Jake laughs at the expression on Jungwon’s face. Jungwon’s eyes flick over to Jake and the elder immediately stifles his laugh, pressing his lips together in a way that you can tell he’s trying to hold back another bout of laughter. When Jungwon looks back at you, you can see the hesitance in his eyes. “Please? I wanted to talk to you about something,” you ask, trying to lay the pleading on thick to get him to agree. 

You can see the way your words and begging eyes begin to work on his mind, and it isn’t long before he’s nodding, muttering something about calling your manager. Jake’s arm wraps around your shoulders, pulling you into a half hug as you smirk a little in satisfaction. Halfheartedly, you squeeze your arms around Jake, causing him to let out a small grunt before you move away from him, reaching to grab Jungwon’s arm.

“Let’s go, I haven’t had any caffeine all day and I’m starting to get a headache.”

Jungwon grumbles a little as you pull him along, shouting a small goodbye to Jake as you both begin to put your shoes and coats on. “That’s a sign of addiction. You���re having withdrawals.”

“Coffee is one of the safest things you could be addicted to.”

“Well–”

“Actually–”

“Stop cutting me off,” Jungwon laughs as he finishes zipping up his jacket, grabbing his wallet as well as a bucket hat and a black mask. 

You reach for the front door, opening it as you chuckle. “Sorry, Oppa.” Jungwon shakes his head, but his smile gives it away. You know it’s hard for him to even pretend to be mad at you. Because you feel the same way. He jokes with you as you get into the car, and during the drive to the coffee shop that you both frequent together, you’re the one who does most of the talking. It’s not like you, but you don’t really mind because you can tell Jungwon’s thinking about something. 

One of the staff trails along behind you and Jungwon as you enter the café, a subtle sense of protection as you stay close to the boy making you only have to worry about this upcoming conversation. The two of you order and wait off to the side for your drinks. Catching glimpses of Jungwon while the whirring of espresso machines and chatter resound throughout the room, you feel that mixture of worry and concern. It was only recently that you had experienced the same issue of ignoring your needs for others, so you had a feeling of what Jungwon was going through. That being said, only if Jay was actually right about what he’d been seeing with the younger man. 

With the icy feeling of your cold brew in hand, you loop your arm through one of Jungwon’s as you both exit the café, opting to go on a small walk before heading back to the dorms. For a moment, you take the chance to breathe, trying to deduct what to say before he ultimately beats you to it. 

“Why did you ask me to come with you?”

You look up at him, the ice in your drink rattling against the cup with each of your steps. As convincingly as you can make it, you smile, “What? D’you not think I want to spend time with you?” He tilts his head a little, tufts of black hair peeking out from under his beanie.

“Not that, but Jake was right there too.”

“How observant of you.”

“Seriously, YN-ie.” His serious tone makes you awkwardly laugh, head turning straight forward again as you sip at your drink. Jungwon pauses for a moment before speaking up again, “Is this about what happened last week?”

You do your best to choose your words carefully. “Kind of. Figured we would have to talk about it eventually.”

Jungwon hums, “So we’re ripping off the bandaid?”

“Yes, we are,” you agree. Tightening your grip on his arm a little, you feel his phone buzz in the pocket of his coat. 

“I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable,” Jungwon starts in a hushed voice, probably trying to keep the words between you and him and away from the prying ears of other people walking by the two of you. Thank goodness for face masks. “I think… I just think that I don’t really know how to comfort you yet.”

You shrug, “I wasn’t uncomfortable. It was weird that you knew those things so easily, that’s all.”

Jungwon chuckles, “You’re not as mysterious as you think you are.”

“I never said I was mysterious.” You laugh along with him before the sound dies away. “Having people that see me so effortlessly, that understand me so quickly, it’s not something I’m used to.”

You can tell Jungwon is listening intently to you by the way his body is ever so slightly tilted toward yours. When you glance at his eyes, it’s clear he’s thinking deeply about something, maybe trying to piece your words together. Suddenly, you’re thankful for the fresh air as you take a deep breath.

“When I was growing up, I was moving around a lot–you know… New Zealand and France and Japan and I never really got to make super strong connections,” you say, eyes traveling over the trees that line one side of the sidewalk. “And I’m thankful for all of the experiences I’ve had, but I know that I’m shy and that I don’t really open up to people, but I think it’s because I’ve always felt like an outsider wherever I went.”

Cat-like eyes are on you, and you feel a wave of comfort as you lock your irises with him. 

“Anyways, what I’m trying to say is that I’ve learned how to trust you faster than most people.”

Jungwon doesn’t say anything for a few steps and you sniffle awkwardly. “Don’t feel too special,” you push and his eyes crinkle at the corners, signaling a smile.

“I trust you too,” Jungwon says directly. His words help soothe you a bit. 

You clear your throat, “And you would tell me if you’re struggling, right?”

With the way Jungwon hesitates, you know he wouldn’t, and it’s hard for the thought to not make you a little sad.

“Maybe after I got past it,” he offers. “I know I tell you to tell me everything, but part of that is because you’re supposed to.” Your heart clenches in your chest. “I’m supposed to worry about you, take care of you. Not the other way around.”

This time, he looks away from you. “You know I care about you, Jungwon-oppa. Let me show it.” You pause before continuing, seeing how your words are affecting him and how the defensiveness in his body language slowly begins to melt away. “Talk to me.”

“Everything with this life is… a lot. I knew being an idol would be demanding but,” he pauses and you nod for him to keep going. “We haven’t even had our first comeback yet and I feel like I’m struggling more than normal.”

You squeeze his arm in a comforting manner. “Don’t be afraid to lean on us, Jungwon-oppa. We’re here to help you, you don’t need to be so strong all of the time.”

The sight of his wide eyes as he looks down at you has your heart soften in your chest. “But I’m not supposed to need your help. I was picked for this position despite my age and I have to show that I can do it–”

“I understand that your responsibilities are stressful and that you just want to help us but, Jungwon, someone needs to put you first if you’re not going to do that for yourself.”

Both of your steps have slowed, and you realize that you’re subconsciously trying to prolong this conversation before the pair of you make it back to the car. Condensation from your barely-touched drink collects on your palm, and the plastic feels slippery.

“I can be that someone for you, Junwong-oppa.”

He’s avoiding eye contact with you now. You don’t think the pink on his cheeks and ears is from the chilly air anymore. 

“Yes, our lives would’ve been different if we hadn’t decided to pursue this path–” you say, voice growing in volume as a kind of passion takes over you for him to listen to you. For Jungwon to understand. “My parents wouldn’t be so mad at me and you wouldn’t have so many responsibilities at such a young age, but we have to work through these struggles together…” 

Now, your steps have come to a halt and you pull on Jungwon’s arm for him to fully face you. “We can help each other, Oppa. Neither of us should have to fight these things on our own.” He looks hesitant, like he’s fighting between two different ideas. Desperate, you reach up, holding his cheek to get him to meet your eyes.

“Please.”

That single word is what breaks through his resistance, and you can’t help but let out a breath of relief as he slowly nods.

The date for the comeback was drawing closer at a greater speed than your debut. Which was weird. Sure, both were major milestones, but you thought that there would be more of a rush for Border: Day One. Considering the short turnaround after I-Land and all. Or maybe it was because of everything that’d been happening with your personal life. Honestly, you didn’t know anymore–much less care. 

There was nothing normal about your life, as much as you liked to pretend there was, nothing was normal. Not the fact that you had the blessing of being able to love two men at the same time, not your career, not the responsibilities you had at such a young age. But there were glimpses of a normal life at times, certain things that made you slip into the fantasy. Like Jungwon. 

When you were with each other, you’d agreed to let each other believe that you were just normal high school students. Was it healthy? Probably not, but it was a way you were helping each other cope, and that was all you could ask for with all of the pressure you both faced. There was no idol talk allowed. It was just YN and Jungwon. Even if you had to go to most places with a bodyguard. Although, those instances were becoming less and less. Because you both were getting really good at sneaking out. 

“Mmm… okay. If you were a kind of silverware, what would you be?” you ask him, taking another bite of your coconut ice cream and letting it melt on your tongue. It was becoming harder to come up with questions for each other, hence the ‘What if?’ game you’d been playing for the expanse of the night. 

The two of you continue walking along the mostly empty sidewalk. It was late at night, not many people were out and about and the moon was high in the sky, casting a silver glow over Jungwon as you look over at him.

“Knife.”

You furrow your eyebrows and laugh a little at his answer. “Why?”

“Because I’m skinny and dangerous–”

“No, no, absolutely not,” you laugh loudly, leaning into his side at his words.

There’s a look of surprise on his face, his black face mask pulled down around his chin as he eats his vanilla ice cream. “What? I thought there were no wrong answers.”

“Well, that was a wrong answer–” Jungwon cuts you off as he bumps your shoulder with his, causing you to stumble away from him a bit. You watch as he bites back a laugh. “You think you’re sooo funny.”

Jungwon takes another bite of his dessert, “I am funny.”

You pout a little, falling back into his side. “Sometimes,” you mumble, stirring your ice cream around absentmindedly, “Not when you’re making fun of me though. Or shoving me.”

“Oh, please, I barely touched you.”

“Yeah, well, you’re gonna be in trouble with Hoonie when he sees the giant bruise on my shoulder.” Jungwon lets out a scoff. When he looks over at you, you feel your heart leap at the cute smile on his face, his dimples prominent. 

“You’re being dramatic.”

You shrug, “Maybe you don’t know your own strength.”

Jungwon laughs, head falling forwards a little and some of his hair flops over his eyes. You picture yourself pushing it away, but you stop yourself. 

“I know Sunghoon-hyung’s strength. And Jay-hyung’s strength, and I wouldn’t be a match for either of them.”

Looking back down at your melting ice cream, you speak up again, “I think you might actually have a chance against Jay-oppa– Wait.” You stop walking, looking at Jungwon in surprise. 

Did he know about you and Jay?

How? You’d never told him. You weren’t planning on telling any of them for a while, considering how the relationship was still something you were getting used to. Sunghoon and Jay as well. But Jungwon just glances back at you like it’s the most casual thing in the world, not a hint of judgment in his brown eyes and you don’t know if you should be relieved or concerned.

“You know?”

Jungwon sighs softly, linking one of his arms with yours as he pulls you to start walking in the direction of the dorm again. You still gap at him, wide-eyed at how normal he seems. 

“I’ve been spending pretty much every day with you for like, two weeks. I would’ve been an idiot to not notice it.”

“And?”

He doesn’t meet your eyes, and for a moment, he almost looks sad. “And you love them. And they love you and I think that that’s the only thing that should matter.”

A wave of reassurance washes over you and suddenly, your chest feels much lighter. Your throat is less tight. “We were gonna tell you all eventually, I swear.”

Jungwon shakes his head. “It’s okay, YN-ie, really. We aren’t obligated to know everything about you.

“But you– But we aren’t supposed to have any more secrets from each other,” you counter. You aren’t exactly sure what you’re trying to do. If you actually want him to be upset at you or not. After all, the guilt of lying to your members about your relationship had been building to a point where you were ready to burst. As you thought about it, it felt nice for someone else to know. Especially because that someone was Jungwon. 

His adam's-apple bobs as he swallows another spoonful of ice cream. “We both know that’s just wishful thinking.”

You roll your eyes playfully, “Hey…”

“What I want you to know is that you deserve all of the love in the world. You’re a special girl, YN, after everything you’ve been through you should accept the love they have for you. And I support it.”

A smile grows on your lips and you rest your head on his shoulder. “Thank you, Wonnie.” And you really do mean it. Thankfully, the conversation drifts to other topics as you continue making your way back to the dorm. There’s a sense of relief in your heart. Happiness and… some kind of sadness whose source you aren’t aware of. More like it’s a source you’re not ready to confront yet. Instead, you let yourself enjoy Jungwon’s company. Listening to his laugh and the way he speaks, you notice that he sounds happier. Sounds more like himself and you let yourself believe that the time you’ve been spending with him has helped. 

Because it’s at least helped you.

The dorm is silent when you both come back, going through the steps of your sneaking-in/out routine without alerting any of the other members or manager. It’s hard though as you try not to laugh at the ridiculousness of the scenario and you find yourself not wanting to say goodnight to him. 

But you both take off your shoes and your coats and your hats and masks, and you both throw away your now empty ice cream cups. And then Jungwon says goodnight and you find it in yourself to mutter a small “Goodnight” back. 

When you make your way through the hallway and peek into your room, Sunghoon is still asleep in your bed, and Sangmi in hers. The giddy feeling in your heart only grows. Maybe Jungwon was right, you conclude as you gently shut the door behind you, heading towards your bathroom. Maybe you did deserve the love the world was finally beginning to offer you. 

You feel like you’re floating as you get ready for bed, a stupid smile on your face as you massage serums into your skin and brush your teeth hastily. The taste of coconut ice cream fights through the taste of mint and Jungwon’s face still bullies itself to the front of your mind and– Your phone buzzes in your pocket.

Confused, you let your toothbrush hang in your mouth as you reach for your phone in your back pocket. When the screen lights up, you do a double-take at the contact that reads at the bottom of the device. 

Your first instinct is to throw your phone at the wall (funny, how that’s been your go-to move for the past couple of weeks), but then, you decide against it. Anger is a powerful emotion, and you find yourself rushing out of your bathroom in a fashion that was probably a little too loud to be considered careful. The walls and other familiar surroundings of the place you now call home blur past you as you practically run to Jungwon’s room. Trying to calm yourself down, you nudge the door open and peek your head into the room. Each of the boys are in their beds, but as your eyes find Jungwon, you can tell that he’s moving around too much to truly be asleep.

“Wonnie,” you whisper harshly. Nothing. So you whisper his name again, and again. Thankfully, on the third try, he lifts his head to look over at the door. His eyebrows furrow and the corner of his mouth lifts as a sign of confusion. Doing your best to stay quiet, you push the door open enough to wave him over. You think he grumbles something as he gets out of his bed and makes his way over to you, but you don’t really care.

You hand your phone over to him in an instant.

His eyes widen as he reads the contact. Mum.

“I can’t believe you’re actually doing this.” 

You don’t look over at him as the car continues moving down the street. “Me either.”

Your parents were in South Korea. To see you. They hadn’t been in contact since you told them you were joining I-Land. 

The turnaround from that text message and how long they were actually staying in the country was so short that you barely had any time to think about what you wanted to do. Part of you hated them, but the other part was unsure if you would ever get this opportunity again. 

Desperate for advice, two nights ago you and Jungwon had sat in the living room and talked things over until only a few hours were left in the night. You had wanted to involve Sunghoon and Jay as well, but it all just happened so fast. And Jungwon was the only one who knew about your issues with your family. Of course you would fill your boyfriends in with all of the details once this dreaded dinner was over, but for now, you were grateful that Jungwon was there with you.

He had been there for you for weeks, ever since your birthday. Even though you said you would be the one to help him, he was the one who’d actually helped. You wish you could put your gratitude for him into words, but you’d never been the best at explaining things. So you were letting him come with you. 

Your head was a mess and the anxiety in your stomach was even worse. You’d felt nervous over things before, but right now, you just felt sick. A woman’s intuition was never wrong, and yours was screaming at you to ask the staff to turn the car around and take you back home where you could have dinner with your real family. But you were an emotional person, and right now, your longing for approval and the memories from your childhood were trumping that tiny voice in your head that was telling you this was a mistake as the car parks in front of the restaurant. 

You sit there for a moment, silent. 

“Do you want me to come inside with you?” You still don’t look at him. You think you would burst into tears if you did. But your parents were waiting inside and you needed to give him an answer.

“Um. Sure.”

You can feel his eyes on you, the way he’s watching your hand tremble as you reach to open the car door. 

Trying to focus on your five senses instead of the thoughts in your head, you get out of the vehicle: the feeling of the spring night air, the sound of the bustling city, the taste of the blood in your mouth from chewing on your cheek too hard, the smell of the food wafting from the open door, the sight of Jungwon. He looked so strong, so sure as he stood next to you. You wish you could take a page from his book. But that’s what set the two of you apart–his ability to push his emotions down while yours led you to do things that probably wouldn’t help you in the long run.

He looks over at you and when your eyes meet, your heart stops and you feel strangely calm for a moment. You snap out of the daze just as quickly, though. Awkwardly, you clear your throat and tilt your head towards the restaurant, signaling him to follow you. And then your feet are moving towards the entrance. 

The place would be cute if you could actually focus on the design of the interior. You’d never been to this restaurant before, which didn’t surprise you, you couldn’t even begin to guess the number of places to eat in Seoul. But your parents had recommended this place. Probably because they’d eaten here before. Probably because it made them feel more comfortable. You couldn’t feel more out of place though, even as Jungwon reaches down to hold your hand. 

The sight of them sitting at a table knocks the air right out of your lungs, and you have to remind yourself to breathe. 

You watch as they look up and as the sight of recognition takes over their features. Swallowing harshly, you force a small smile as they both grin and rush over to you. Your mum doesn’t hesitate to pull you into a hug, breaking your hold on Jungwon which makes you panic a little.

“Oh, my baby! I missed you so much!” She pulls back and you can’t help but want to believe her as you take in the sight of her face. She’s barely aged, but you’re significantly taller than her now. The smile on your face feels painful.

“Hi, mama.” Her eyes don’t change as you speak–they’re still crinkled in the corners as she takes in the sight of your face after only seeing it through screens for months. Behind you, Jungwon clears his throat, an effective form of breaking you out of your daze. 

“Oh,” you say softly, moving away from her and reaching for Jungwon. Gently ushering him towards your mother, you watch as he also forces a small smile. “This is Jungwon.”

Your mother’s face hardens at the sight of your group member. “Jungwon-ssi… Nice to meet you,” she says in broken Korean.

“You too, Mrs Aoki.” He’s so polite. The epitome of control despite the way you can see his fists clench as he greets her with a bow. Your mother nods in approval, but you can see the questions behind her eyes. The primary one being: ‘Why is he here?’ Her speculation makes anger simmer in you and to stop yourself from saying something you’d regret, you begin to move towards the table.

“Let’s sit.” The four of you take your spots at the table, drinks already sitting on the surface and you watch as one of the workers comes over to take your orders for what foods you all would want for the grill. Jungwon does a majority of the ordering, you too focused on trying to process everything that’s happening and your parents aren’t exactly fluent in the language you’d begun to use on a daily basis. 

You look over to your father, who’s already sipping on a beer which isn’t a surprise to you. Alcohol tended to put him in a better mood. Which would be especially helpful during heavy conversations just like this upcoming one. “Hi, dad.”

You may take after your mother, but you can see your eyes in his own as he makes eye contact with you, expression unchanged. Then over at Jungwon, then back at you. “What is he doing here?”

“I invited him,” you state the obvious, reaching for your water to try and swallow the lump in your throat. “Thought it might make things a little less awkward.” Jungwon looks at you as you speak, dark brown eyes reading confusion and you try to offer him what’s hopefully a comforting smile. 

“He cannot speak English. Cannot contribute to the conversation.”

“Dad–”

Your mother thankfully intervenes before your father can critique your decision any further, “Chiharu, I thought we agreed that this would be a dinner without conflict.” It was a bit surprising that she was trying to keep the peace. Clearly she had gotten used to standing up to your father during the years you’d been gone. The elder man looks over at Jungwon again before begrudgingly jerking his head in a sharp nod. You let out a breath of relief. Maybe he wasn’t happy that Jungwon was here, but at least now he wasn’t going to throw a fit about it.

Under the table, your hand scrambles to hold onto Jungwon’s, desperate for some kind of comfort despite only having been in your parent’s presence for a minimum of ten minutes. Trying to keep yourself calm, you take a deep breath and focus on the feeling of Jungwon’s larger hand surrounding your own. “Speaking of conversations, what’s the point of this sudden meet-up anyway?”

It was unsettling how that smile had yet to falter on your mother’s face.

“We were just in the country and we thought we’d reach out. It’s been so long since we’ve seen you, after all.” The frustration in your chest was so overwhelming that you thought you might start crying. How could they come to you like nothing had happened? Like nothing was wrong?

“You were just… in Korea?” You furrow your eyebrows as you look at your mum. Out of the corner of your eye, your dad finishes his drink. “You live in New Zealand. That’s like a 15-hour flight away.” Subconsciously, your grip on Jungwon’s hand tightens as your other elbow comes to rest on the table and you lean closer to them. 

The sound of your father’s glass being set on the wood is harsh. “Why can we not come see the country you seem to be so taken with?”

You fight the urge to let out a loud sigh, already on edge from the way your father had treated Jungwon. Not to mention the way they’d treated you and now were acting like nothing had happened. Starting an argument with them was pointless, especially when (as much as you hated to admit it) you’d missed them dearly and they had finally made an effort to reach out to you. 

“Never said you couldn’t, but Dad, it’s not like you to want to travel anywhere other than Napier… Since you and grandma seem to think that everywhere else is dangerous.” The look sent your way from the man is a warning, so you go quiet again as the food is finally brought to the table. Jungwon drops your hand, getting to work on turning on the grill and watching the surface as it begins to heat up. 

“How’s it going?” he whispers to you as you both help the server to place the several dishes of vegetables and meat on the table. 

Your appetite seems to be gone though. What a waste. “Not great,” you mumble back as your mum speaks up again.

“So. YN, tell us how the past few years have been treating you.”

Clenching your jaw, you force a smile, “I can’t say that it’s been easy starting a new life for myself here, but I don’t think I would’ve wanted things any other way–”

“I don’t know why you have to see this music thing through,” she sighs softly, a look of pity in her eyes. “You’re so young. You should come back to New Zealand.”

This. This is what you didn’t miss. 

How they tried to keep you so sheltered from the world and from pursuing what you truly wanted. How they only deemed what they saw fit for you as okay. How they only thought that Napier was the place for you. 

“Can’t do that mum.”

“Oh, sure you can…”

It was getting harder and harder to not speak harshly with her. Sometimes that seemed to be the only way to get things through her head–by being stern with her. It felt like she was the kid, not you sometimes. “No, I can’t. I signed a contract. I’m in a group now.”

“Then terminate the contract.”

“Mum–”

“You should listen to your mother, YN,” your father says, in clear agreement with his wife. “You know, I was reading in the news the other day–”

“Do you both understand that I have a life here now?” The tone of your voice finally has that sting that you’d been holding back, tired of them only thinking of themselves. “That I have people that I love here. And a job. And a home?” They both look at you with curious eyes as Jungwon begins cooking some of the food. 

“You’re seventeen. You know we’re just trying to do what we think is best for you and honestly, YN, you know this music thing won’t work out–”

“God, do you even know me anymore?” You say sharply. You were stupid to think that meeting with them would change anything. They were still too stuck in the past and unwilling to see your point of view to try and make any effort to understand you. “Have you bothered to see what my group has been doing? Because I hate to break it to you because this ‘music thing’ seems to be working out just fine.”

“Of course we know you, YN–” your father starts and that seems to be the final thing to force you over the edge.

“Then where was my birthday message?” Your bottom lip wobbles a little and you realize how loud your voice had gotten. Looking around at the few other customers in the restaurant, you sink back in your seat, lowering your voice to a soft, almost whisper. “My birthday,” you have to take another deep breath to keep your emotions from boiling over even more. “My birthday, and not even then can you guys acknowledge me. Why? Because you don’t like that I’m following my dreams?”

“You know that we do not approve of this decision and we thought that we’d give you another chance to consider things–”

“You don’t approve of it, or he doesn’t approve of it?” Your eyes snap over to your mother, nose crinkling a little like it usually does when you’re angry.

“Don’t speak to your mother like that,” your father states, the anger that’s so similar to yours in his own voice. You’re used to the feeling of the tears welling up in your eyes as you’re left in silence again. 

Sniffling softly, you avert your eyes from them. “I don’t want to speak to either of you again unless you actually are ready to listen to me,” you mumble. 

Poor Jungwon has been cooking the food this entire time, maybe taking a few bites now and then as he listened to you and your parents argue. You feel your heart soften as you see the sight of him looking so out of place. You’re sure you look the same. Tangling your fingers through your hair in an attempt to brush it out, you stand. 

“I’m ready to go, Oppa.”

Jungwon looks up at you and when his eyes meet yours, he nods in understanding. Without another word, he’s standing next to you. As you both begin walking away from the table, your parents don’t bother to try and call out to you, which only finalizes it for you. 

You don’t want this. You don’t want a life with them in it right now. Maybe, in a few more years from now, they’d be able to accept you and you wouldn’t be stubborn enough to completely ignore their words, but that time wasn’t now. All you knew was that everything you needed, you already had. That much was clear as you and Jungwon make it back to the car and as he holds you while you sob your heart out for the rest of the way home.

When you arrive back at the dorms you practically run to find Sunghoon and Jay to explain everything that had been happening concerning your family for the past few weeks–the missed birthday, the feeling of homesickness, the failed dinner, and they listen. Held between the two of them in Sunghoon’s bed you’ve never felt safer. And they don’t get angry at you for not telling them or for confiding in Jungwon, they simply show you the love that you need. They accept you for who you are, which is all you’ve ever wanted.

You fall asleep that night being held by them, exhausted from the emotional trainwreck that was your family.

The lights in your room are off as you do your best to put away laundry. 

The sun had barely begun to set outside, but you were still doing your best to try and get ready for bed considering you would have to be up and moving at a little after midnight for the beginning of the pre-recordings for the Drunk-Dazed comeback the next day. Tasks like these helped to calm your mind. They were repetitive and you could control what you were doing. Plus, there was something satisfying about getting things done. It made you feel good to be productive. 

It was like you always had to be moving nowadays anyway. If you sat still or didn’t have anything to keep your hands moving, you would have to start to think about things you didn’t want to think about. Like your parents. Like being an idol. Having doubts was scary and hearing those uncertainties from your parents only made things worse for you. Because now, you were beginning to second guess if this was the right path for you. If you were making a mistake. 

In the glow of a single bedside table salt lamp, you hang up the last of your sweaters. It would be warming up soon outside. You wouldn’t get to wear them as often which kind of upset you–

“Hey.” The familiar timbre of the voice makes your heart race as you look over your shoulder to the door. Jungwon’s standing at the entrance of your bedroom, clad in gray sweatpants and a crew neck with some kind of teddy bear on it. You offer him a closed-lip smile before you go back to finishing up with your laundry. 

“Hi.”

He takes that as a sign to come into the room, shuffling over to your bed before practically throwing himself onto the duvet. One of your Cinnamoroll plushies falls onto the floor and you send him a teasing warning glance. He only chuckles. 

“Pick him back up, please.” The boy on your bed groans, but he complies with your request, reaching for the plushie before setting it next to him against the pillows. 

“I see you’re in cleaning mode.”

You huff softly and close your closet. “It’s relaxing–”

“You’re crazy for saying that,” he pauses as you approach your bed. “Wanna clean my room next?”

Taking one of your pillows, you smack it over his head and he lets out a loud laugh, wrestling the pillow away from you. It’s hard to pretend to be annoyed with him when big eyes are looking up at you, making your heart soften in a way that comes with an emotion you’re too familiar with. One that you still aren’t ready to confront yet.

“You can’t call me crazy and then ask me to clean your room,” you mumble. Jungwon tilts his head a little, the corner of his mouth raising as you continue to grip the pillow. When he tugs it again, you’re falling on the bed next to him, laughing loudly. 

“What if I use my leader voice?”

“Then I’m not going to step in your room for the rest of the year.”

The smile on his face makes a rush of warmth go through you. “Don’t lie.”

“I’m not lying.”

“Jay-hyung shares that room with me so–”

You smack his chest gently, “Okay, enough.” The two of you laugh quietly again before the room falls into silence. Jungwon’s weight settles onto the bed next to you, moving gently and cautiously as if he’s afraid. Your eyes stay on the ceiling. He lies on his back, his body just inches away from your own, and you feel an almost electric sensation run through you. The heat of his being is so close, the scent of his skin filling your nose, and you can’t help but let out a slow, shaky breath, trying desperately to control your racing thoughts and emotions. 

He hesitates before speaking, “How are you doing?”

The feeling of being at a loss for words around him is one you’re not accustomed to. “You’re gonna have to be a little more specific than that, Oppa.” It’s like you can almost hear him roll his eyes. When you look over at him, one side of his mouth is lifted into a smirk before it drops down as soon as it appeared.

“With… you know your parents.”

“I feel…” You look back up at the ceiling. “Is it bad that it felt good to yell at them?”

Jungwon sucks in a small breath. “No. I didn’t understand much, but you should’ve done more than just yell at them.”

“Like what? Flip the table?” He laughs.

“No, I mean, not give the time of day to begin with.”

You know he’s probably right, but it was more complicated than that. Your freshly washed bedding is still a little warm under your body. “But you understand why I did.”

“Of course I do.” The weight of his eyes on you is a heavy one, but it’s one that you don’t reject. Just one that you chose to ignore. “I understand you more than you think.”

Your heart feels like it’s beginning to beat out of your chest as you swallow thickly. “Thank you for being there for me,” you pause to try to calm the swirling hurricane that is your mind. “I know you kind of have to be, but–”

“I don’t have to do anything for you,” he whispers. “I have to do things for the benefit of everyone else, but I did this for me. Because I wanted to.”

The air in your throat hitches. You don’t look over at him–you can’t. If you did, things would forever be different between the two of you.

Without words, you can tell Jungwon’s thoughts are locked on whether this is right or not: two friends lying in the same bed because yours are too. You’re in a committed relationship with two other men, two other of your bandmates, but the urge to turn and wrap your arms around him is overwhelming. Your knuckles are practically brushing against his as you restrain yourself, and you can feel him clenching and unclenching his hands at his sides with the effort to keep still. The feeling of him looking at you leaves with the sound of his head moving against one of your pillows. So you take the chance to glance at him, your eyes tracing his features, taking in the sight of his resting face just next to you in the low light.

As you both lie there in silence, the urge to touch him becomes nearly unbearable. Jungwon’s hand twitches slightly, and your fingers itch to reach out and touch his skin, but you hold back, knowing you shouldn’t. Knowing that this has already gone too far. You hear him let out a slow, shaky breath of his own, unaware of the way he’s trying to calm the storm of emotions and memories raging inside him. 

You can feel the heat of Jungwon’s skin so close to yours, and with every second it becomes harder and harder to resist the urge to touch him. Your eyes scan his face, taking in every feature, every soft detail, every little imperfection that you find beautiful. It feels like an eternity passes of just you both lying there, listening to each other’s breaths in the quiet of your room before Jungwon finally gives in. Slowly, his hand moves to lace his fingers with yours. 

These hesitances wouldn’t exist if there wasn’t something more than friendship between the two of you.

It’s without saying, you both understand each other. More than you ever had before.

And he stays with you as the sun completely sets, the room falling into darkness. You don’t remember falling asleep next to him, but when you wake up to your alarm later in the night, he’s nowhere to be found.

-

The process of a comeback show is just as (if not more) busy than Enhypen’s debut. Sleep is fought out of your mind by excitement, nervousness, and anticipation, and you can’t find the energy to feel tired. Dark coffee helps, buzzing your neurons back to life, but it also makes your jitters worse, and as you sit in the makeup chair, you have to sit on your hands to stop them from shaking. 

Your members move hastily around you in the process of getting ready as well, staff bustling with a variety of objects. You were thankful for the distraction of the makeup brush on your face. And for Sunghoon’s voice. It was rare for him to talk so freely, even to you, but he must’ve sensed your troubled emotions. You wondered if he would still act like this with you if he knew the things you were contemplating. 

Final touches of glitter are scattered under your eyes before you’re given the go-ahead to relax or do whatever you needed to before you were all needed for the pre-recording. So you stay with Sunghoon.

“I feel greedy,” you mumble quietly as you shuffle over to the couch he’s sitting on and falling into the space next to him. His face shows little emotion as he helps you place your legs over his lap.

“Is this your way of telling me you feel bad for eating the rest of my ice cream?”

“That wasn’t me and you know it.” One of his hands squeezes your thigh in a comforting manner when he doesn’t see you crack a smile at his words. 

“Then what’s going on?”

You purse your lips a little as you try to think of how to word this. “Do you think that I take up too much of everyone’s time?” His eyebrows furrow as you look over at him. “I mean like– sometimes I feel like people drop everything because I’m too dramatic.”

“You’re not dramatic,” Sunghoon pauses and his eyes never leave yours. The sight of his warm brown irises has your heart melting in your chest and you can’t fight the small smile that grows on your face. “Well. Maybe sometimes. But in a cute way, don’t worry I’m not put off by it.”

You laugh softly, smacking his shoulder gently. “I’m serious, Hoon. You would tell me if I was bothering you right?”

He grabs your hand and intertwines your fingers with his, bringing your hand closer to his face to kiss the back of your hand in a comforting manner. “I’m serious too. I help you because I love you. We don’t owe each other anything, it’s just… me–and Jay–taking care of you because we want to.” He kisses your hand again. “That’s it.”

Sunghoon’s words manage to soothe some of your worries, but like always, once those little voices in the back of your head start, it’s difficult to get rid of them. Trying to push some of the stress away for the sake of the comeback (and everyone else), you nod. 

“So no pick-me scandals?”

When Sunghoon smiles, his head tilts back a little and you get a clear view of his cute fangs. “I don’t know about that–”

“YN-ssi?” The staff that calls your name from the doorway has little emotion in her voice. All business. Just the way it should be. Resisting the urge to groan from your time with Sunghoon being interrupted, you quickly kiss him before getting up from the couch to look over at her. She’s focused on a clipboard in her hands, scanning the papers thoroughly and she speaks without even glancing at you as you approach her. 

“Do you know a Denise Aoki?”

Your eyebrows furrow as your steps falter. Confusion overpowers anything else you’d been feeling in the past few minutes. “Yes… that’s my mum.” But she wouldn’t be here, you think to yourself, standing awkwardly in the doorway. The staff doesn’t give you any sort of reaction as she looks up at you from her clipboard.

“There’s a woman here with her name requesting to see you.”

You aren’t sure what to say. Part of you doesn’t believe it. Why would your mum come to a comeback show for your group when she’d expressed her dislike for your career so recently? You were too busy to speak with her anyway. At least, that’s what you try to tell yourself as you stare blankly at the woman. 

You’re both silent for a moment before the staff member speaks up, “Do you want me to bring you to her? There’s only about an hour and a half left before you’re due on stage.”

Anxiety rushes through your bloodstream as you debate on what to do. Your family had been kept a secret from fans even with their insane stalking skills, so it wouldn’t be possible for one of them to pretend to be your mother. But why was she here then? It was something you needed to find out for yourself, so in all honesty, it wasn’t even a debate. You nod a little. 

“Just for a moment, if that’s allowed.”

The staff gives you a curt nod of her own before gesturing you to follow her. “I’ll stay with you while you both are visiting for your safety.”

“Thank you,” you say softly as you continue through the hallways of backstage M Countdown. You’re guided into a small meeting room that’s a bit out of the way from the dressing rooms and sure enough, through the door is your mother. She’s not sitting in one of the many chairs surrounding the table in the center of the room, instead, she’s standing there. Knowing your mum, she’d most likely been pacing, hands clutching onto her purse as she waited. You weren’t even sure how she could be back here–security and all. 

You eye her carefully as the staff steps into the room behind you, closing the door. “What’re you doing here?” It’s like she doesn’t know why she’s shown up either, with the way she opens her mouth and then closes it. An exasperated sigh leaves you, “Nothing to say. Can’t even make your own decisions without Dad.”

“YN,” she says weakly. A part of you doesn’t want to hear it, not after she didn’t bother sticking up for you against your father. For the past year, sure, but especially after that dinner. You knew you deserved better than that, but why did it feel like you were glued to your spot? “I’m here because I don’t agree with your father.” Surely you heard her wrong.

“What?”

“You were right,” she says so quietly that you could barely hear her. “At dinner. Everything you said. We don’t know who you are anymore and I hate myself for it.”

No way this was happening. Not now. You had more important things to do than worry about your non-existent relationship with your parents. Like the comeback stage that you were probably supposed to be prepping for right about now. “Don’t say that. Not now. It’s not fair.”

You watch as her face morphs into a pained expression. 

“Mum, you’ve had so many opportunities to try with me and you haven’t!” the cry slips from your mouth before you can stop it. “I’m done giving you chances!”

“YN, this is me trying!” This was too much. Too much to process on a day that was already stressful for different reasons. Too much with all of the other thoughts already spiraling in your head that had to do with the comeback, and the pre-stage nerves, and how Jungwon had looked at you the previous night. Tears prick at the corners of your eyes and you have to blink harshly to stop them from falling. “I’m here! I’m here, and I’m talking to you and I want to watch you perform–”

“Don’t,” you cut her off. “Not today.” She falls silent and it takes you a moment to realize that she’s actually listening to you. You clear your throat in an attempt to make the lump in it disappear. “If you really want to be a part of my life again, it can’t be today, I have too much– going on.” Your mum nods, a flicker of relief passing over her face. “You can start by calling me instead of showing up out of the blue.”

“Calling you. Okay, I can call you,” she whispers mostly to herself. 

“But this doesn’t mean that you’re forgiven, mum.”

The hope in her eyes dims a little and for a second, you notice how much your eyes have started to look like hers. Maybe not physically, but in the way you expressed emotions. “I know…” The two of you stand there silently for a moment, and you remember that there’s a staff member in the room with you. Not that it made anything more awkward than it already was. She sucks in a small breath before speaking up again, “Can I hug you?”

If you tried to talk, you would probably start crying, so you offer her a small nod. Her arms are around you before you can process it. God, was she this short the last time you hugged her? Your eyes water again at the familiar feeling of being held by her and you sniffle weakly. “Thank you for trying, Mama.”

“I’m sorry it took me so long to,” she says and a few tears escape your eyes. Her hands run over your back one more time and her arms tighten before she reluctantly lets you go. With watery eyes, you watch as she glances at the staff waiting by the door. “You should probably get going. I’ve wasted enough of your time.”

You shake your head as you dab at your eyes with the heel of your hand. A lame attempt to avoid ruining your makeup. It was probably already ruined anyway. 

“This wasn’t a waste of my time.” The staff member approaches you, carefully reaching out to take your arm.

“They need you for final touch-ups.”

You nod in acknowledgment and take one final look at your mum. Love you, she mouths softly and you needed to get out of that room before you broke down in tears. Thankfully, the staff is quick to lead you back out into the hallway. Thankfully, the space is mostly empty, with only a few stray workers bustling up and down the corridors, too focused on their tasks to pay attention to you. 

By the time you return to Enhypen’s green room, you’ve been able to pull yourself together in terms of crying. The sadness and frustration in your heart had morphed into a sour mood, and with everything moving around you at a fast pace, it didn’t take long for you to become overwhelmed with all of the sounds and bright lights and all of the hands that just wouldn’t stop touching you.

Someone was adjusting your mic pack, another was fixing your eye makeup, and there was another staff fluffing your hair. The feelings were just too much. Instantly, your eyes search for Sunghoon and Jay, but they’re occupied too. Sangmi’s going over the choreography with Sunoo and the lack of comfort you were receiving made your eyes tear up again. It’s not like you were searching for attention, but after everything that's happened with your family and your other relationships this month, you were beginning to regret not sharing your worries and struggles with more people. 

Then you would’ve had a better chance at being able to talk to someone about the unexpected appearance of your mum. Here. At your group’s comeback showcase. 

Jungwon. You needed Jungwon. 

The lace fabric of the tights you were wearing suddenly felt too itchy, the rings on your fingers too tight, the air in your lungs not enough to breathe. Shakily, you push the pair of hands adjusting your mic pack away from you. You didn’t want to be touched, it felt like too much. “Don’t touch me,” you snap. One of the staff’s eyes widens at your sudden comment, drawing her hands away to her sides. Guilt immediately consumes your stomach, but the apology gets caught in your throat as the other two workers remove their hands from you too. 

Next to you, you feel Jake’s eyes catch on you. “You okay, YN-ie?”

No, you were not okay. There were too many people in this room and there were too many thoughts and emotions in your head. 

“I can’t breathe,” you pant softly and Jake’s face enters your vision, his brown eyes filled with concern. His pink lips part and you can tell he’s trying to figure out what to say. 

“YN, what’s wrong?” He asks, hands moving to try and hold your shoulders to stop your trembling. In a panicked fashion, you push him away.

“Don’t touch me!” That came out louder than expected. 

At least some of the loud noises stop as you feel several pairs of eyes turn to you. Being the center of attention only increases your agitation. Fresh air was the only thing that could at least fix your anxiety right now. Then you would try to fix everything else. That was the only thought that helped as you rushed back into the hallway, the door slamming shut behind you. 

You don’t process the sound of the door opening again and footsteps rushing to follow you until there are hands on your arms. Your first instinct is to push the person away, but then your back meets the wall behind you, the front of a body being pressed against yours and surprisingly, the close contact isn’t overwhelming. 

“Close your eyes.” Jake’s grip on you is borderline painful, but the compression is surprisingly relaxing. Like there’s less room for something else to touch you, your anxieties suffocating as he holds you. Quickly, you close your eyes, knowing it’s probably to shield you from any bright lights.

One of his hands takes yours, pressing it against his chest. His heartbeat erupts against your palm, the rate a bit faster than normal, but the steadiness gives you something to focus on. Slowly, the panic and irritation you were feeling begin to seep away into a more relieved state. The air was coming into your lungs easily now. 

“Good. Good job,” he says softly, accent soothing to your ears. “Breathe with me for a second.” Jake’s lungs expand under your hand and you copy the action, sucking in a deep breath. He holds it for a moment before deliberately releasing it. You do the same, through your mouth, and the fogginess in your brain begins to dissipate. You take another breath along with him, eyes fluttering open to find his face close to yours. 

You can’t find it in yourself to care that your noses are almost brushing as the last of your stress calms. Silence grips you for another moment before you nod as a little signal that you’re okay.

“What’re you guys doing?” Jungwon. You’d never heard him this angry before. Hesitantly, you turn your head to look over at him. He’s followed by your manager. God, you hope he wasn’t getting in trouble with the way you’d reacted just moments ago. “The entire show is being held up because of you, YN!”

Jake’s hands tighten on your arms as he stands a little straighter, putting some distance between the two of you. “Jungwon–”

“I was gone for like two seconds,” you grumble, which probably wasn’t the best decision, but you didn’t feel like being scolded now. Especially since you’d just calmed down. “I needed air.”

Jungwon stops in front of you and Jake, and you watch as his eyes size up the way the older boy is holding onto you. His eyes harden a little, but he doesn’t say anything about how you’re practically pinned against the wall now. Jungwon’s eyes look back at you.

“The world doesn’t revolve around you, YN-ah.” Your eyebrows raise a little at his comment. Gently, you push Jake away by turning to face Jungwon, crossing your arms over your chest. “You can’t expect everyone to drop everything for you just because you’re feeling a little overwhelmed.”

You don’t miss the way his eyes flick over to Jake as he speaks. Your irritation returns tenfold. How could he say that after he’d practically spent this entire month helping you through things with your parents? After you’d trusted him over your own boyfriends to comfort you through such a personal problem?

“You didn’t have a problem dropping everything for me last night?”

“Okay–” Jake starts, only for Jungwon to cut him off.

“Because it’s like you need someone to think for you all of the time!–” A few staff passing by glance at the scene you’re putting on, but you don’t care. Your manager does though, considering the way he moves to stand between you and Jungwon.

“YN-ssi, you need to go back and apologize to the staff as soon as possible,” your manager says firmly. He’s disappointed in you. Your irritation lessens slightly, but you’re still fuming from Jungwon’s words. 

Swallowing harshly, you nod. “Fine.”

“Should stop acting so ungrateful too,” Jungwon murmurs and your head snaps over to him. 

“Jungwon-ssi–”

“No, Jungwon, go ahead,” you scoff, sidestepping your manager to look at the boy. There’s a flicker of something you can’t quite identify in his eyes. He sucks in a deep breath. 

“You’re going to Jake-hyung for comfort now, too?”

A rush of hurt goes through you. “What’s that supposed to mean?” Jungwon doesn’t say anything, lowering his eyes to the floor. A mix between a laugh and a scoff escapes you. “This isn’t even about me being ‘rude’ to the staff, it’s about me and Jake.”

Jungwon’s head snaps up to look at you. He opens his mouth to say something, only for your group to be called to the stage.

So. You might’ve had a problem with running away when things got to be upsetting for you. You just liked to blame it on the fact that you lived with eight other people and it was rare for you to get your much-needed alone time. As you’ve already established. Along with the fact that you had been doing better. You really had been getting everything back together and then the world just decided to turn against you again. 

Maybe you were just being dramatic. Or maybe, everything Jungwon said about you being ungrateful was right. 

Thankfully, the performances had gone smoothly. You’d apologized to the staff after the recordings had finished and they’d forgiven you easily, being understanding of how you were still new to the industry and therefore having hands constantly on you without warning. Everything had been patched up thanks to your manager. Except for your fight with Jungwon. Talking with Sunghoon and Jay about your mother’s unexpected visit had helped, they’d given you the comfort and love you had needed but you still felt bad about everything said between you and the leader of your group. You were mad at yourself for picking the fight with him in the first place and hurt by the things he’d said.

Being outside and by yourself helped, though. Jake had been able to sneak you out without your manager noticing. He’d claimed it was just because he was there and willing, but you knew it was because he felt guilty about what had happened between you and Jungwon. He was the only one who knew where you were, so he was the only person who could’ve told said leader about how you were taking a walk along the Han River. 

Said leader who was running towards you now. 

Letting out a small huff, you continue your pace, not that Jungwon had any trouble catching up to you. “I don’t want to talk to you.”

Jungwon pants softly. “YN please–”

“Did Jake make you come find me or did you ask him.” You refused to look at him. You’d forgone a jacket tonight, the late April air was more humid than usual which probably meant that it was going to rain soon. 

Your steps fall in time with his like it’s second nature. Out of pettiness, you slow your walk, only for Jungwon to copy the action. “I asked him,” Jungwon says. “Please, YN-ie, I feel horrible–”

“Did you actually mean the things you said earlier?” A couple walking their dog passes by you both. “Those comments weren’t just out of the blue, those were specific things. Like you’d already been thinking about them.” Jungwon doesn’t say anything as you look up at him. That’s all the answer you need. You scoff softly, “Right.”

“I was angry,” Jungwon says slowly like he’s choosing his words carefully. And he should. You felt like slapping him. “It was wrong of me to say those things and I’m sorry.”

The streetlamps lining the path shine brightly in the night, making your eyes water. Or maybe you were just going to start crying again. That’s all it felt like you did these days, cry. You were tired of it. 

“You were acting ungrateful today, but you had your reasons.” He takes a deep breath, “I don’t think you’re an ungrateful person and I’m sorry I didn’t see that you were upset.” That was a little better of an apology. “I just– I was jealous that Jake was the one comforting you.”

“I was looking for you,” you admit quietly. Another beat of silence as you both continue walking at a normal pace now. “You were the one I’d wanted in that moment. I was so overwhelmed and I couldn’t breathe, and I wanted you, but you weren’t there.”

Jungwon’s eyes meet yours and he lets out a small sigh when he sees how yours are watering. He reaches out, wrapping an arm around your shoulders and pulling you into his side. You let him. “I’m sorry I wasn’t there. I’ll always be there from now on. Okay?” 

You nod, pressing your cheek against the warmth of his body. “Okay.” Sniffling softly, you speak up again. “And you have no right to be jealous. We’re not dating or anything.” His body stiffens for a split second before he relaxes again. He probably doesn’t think you notice it, but you do.

“I know.” A small raindrop lands on your cheek, but you don’t bother to wipe it away. 

“The reason I was upset was because my mum showed up at the music show.” Jungwon stiffens as he looks down at you.

“That’s allowed?” 

You smile weakly, “I guess so. But I talked to her and she said that she actually wanted to try. Unlike my dad.”

“And you’re going to let her?” You nod. Another raindrop falls. Then another. It was probably going to start pouring soon, but you didn’t mind. You didn’t want to leave this moment. Just you and Jungwon and the river.

“I don’t remember the last time I saw her make such a big decision by herself. It’s always been her following my dad.” A weak chuckle leaves your lips. “I think she really means it this time.”

The sprinkle of rain increases to a drizzle and Jungwon’s arm tightens around you, like he’s trying to shield you from the water. “I’m proud of you, YN-ie. For how you’ve dealt with them and how you’re not forgiving them just like that.”

“They don’t deserve that. Not yet,” you agree. 

Jungwon hums softly. “You can always talk to me about it. You can talk to me about anything.” The rain has steadily increased now, and Jungwon pauses in his tracks, stopping you with him. “Here,” he mumbles, pulling off his jacket and draping it over your head like your hair’s not already wet. Both of you are soaked. Your sweater and his long-sleeved shirt are sopping wet with rainwater, his hair falling over his forehead in dark brown strands. 

You stand there, chest to chest with him as you look into his eyes. They’re so pretty, the dark brown color and the sharp lines that crinkle when he smiles and laughs. “Thank you,” you whisper, leaning in closer to him and wrapping your arms around him to hug him. 

“Are we… okay?” He asks, pulling back a little to look down at you, his arms still tight around your waist and you ignore the way it makes your heart race and your skin tingle. 

The corners of your lips turn up in a tiny smile, “I forgive you, Wonnie.”

When the next morning comes, you wake up alone. Which is strange, considering you fell asleep in your bed, cuddled close with Sunghoon and Jay. 

You don’t bother pondering on it for too long, though. This is the best you’ve felt waking up in a long time. A special kind of lightness flutters in your chest. One made up of love and relief. Your relationship with Sunghoon and Jay was thriving, you’d made up with Jungwon, your mum was making an effort to be back in your life, and Enhypen’s first comeback show was successful. Today was going to be a mostly free day too, only a scheduled live and the usual practices. 

Sitting up in your bed, you stretch your arms above your head, cracking your back to get the rest of the sleep out of your spine. Going through your morning routine as usual, you slip out of bed and go straight to your bathroom. Throughout your skincare, and all of the other self-care rituals you were so fond of in the mornings, the good feeling doesn’t go away and you decide to stay in your pajamas for breakfast. 

You exit your bathroom, humming softly to yourself as you hope that everyone stayed away from the cinnamon rolls you’d bought a few days ago. Or at least, that one was left for you to have–

The sight of all eight of your members sitting in the living room startles you slightly. It’s common for the nine of you to spend the majority of your time together but it wasn’t common for them to look so serious.

Furrowing your eyebrows in confusion, you enter the living room. “Everything okay?” Heeseung shoots a glare at Jungwon, who grimaces slightly. Then, the eldest motions for you to come sit down too. “You guys are acting weird–”

“Someone saw you and Jungwon last night,” Jay says sharply, his tone harsh. “Pictures are practically everywhere you look.”

Your good mood is gone instantly, all happiness draining from your body and being replaced with a kind of jitteriness that can only be described as nervousness. Were they mad? God, of course they were mad. Sunghoon and Jay– They couldn’t be happy about this. Something like this coming out so soon after a comeback? You were going to be in so much trouble. And Jungwon. The company was going to tear you both apart for this. 

Guilt gnaws at your heart as Jake offers you a weak smile. “A dating scandal, huh,” you realize lamely. 

You were so fucked.

✉️ omg a mari post? it's been like a year, my babies, I've missed you so xx sorry if this is bad, but I'm pretty happy with it. didn't intend for it to be this long, but o well. hope you guys enjoy and I love you <3

[amnevitahwritesstuff]

The Pretty Woman AU no one asked for.

Fandom: A Court of Thorns and Roses

Pairing: Feyre/Rhysand

Rating: Explicit

Triggers: Prostitution, Older Man/Younger Woman

Chapters: 1, 2, 3, 5 (WIP)

AO3 Link

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Chapter Four

In My Dreams I Have a Plan

Rhys drew her a bath when they returned to the hotel. One with steam that fogged the mirrors and bubbles piled so high they nearly spilled over the lip of the tub. 

He helped her slide her dress from her shoulders and tried not to feel self conscious. Even after having his face in a place few people had ever even seen, it felt strangely…intimate to bare herself to him like this. Rhys didn’t seem interested in ogling her though, only took her gently by the hand and helped her into the steaming water. 

“There we go,” he said in that soothing murmur of his as he rolled up his sleeves. “Is it too hot?”

“No,” Feyre moaned, her skin already flushed from the heat as she sank below the veritable mountain of bubbles. Truly, there was nothing quite like a hot bubble bath to melt all one’s troubles away. 

Or maybe that was the beautiful man now massaging shampoo into her hair?

She felt herself slip deeper down, muscles melting into laxness and pleasure. Out of the corner of her eye she saw Rhys kneel onto the hard tile, clothes still confusingly on. Wait…was he not going to join her?

Feyre eyed him curiously. 

“What about you?” She asked sleepily, tipping her head back to look at his face. 

“What about me?”

“Shouldn’t this bath be for you? You’re the one paying after all. Shouldn’t you be getting something out of this?”

He smiled, eyes shining with something Feyre didn’t quite understand. 

“Who’s to say I’m not?” 

She squinted at him. 

“Is this like…your kink or something?”

His smile turned into a grin. “Something like that.” 

“Oh, do you usually pick up random women on the side of the road and give them whatever they want?” 

“No,” he said, amused. “Just you.”

Feyre wasn’t entirely sure how to respond to that. 

She spent the rest of the bath mulling over his words. Letting him rinse her hair and scrub her skin until it was pink and then pull her out of the tub so he could wrap her up in a fluffy white towel. 

“So,” she finally said as he patted her hair dry. “I’m all clean now.”

He gave her a fond look. 

“Yes, you certainly are.”

“And doesn’t that make you wanna…make me dirty?” Feyre said, cringing at how awkward and young she sounded. She was a grown woman god damn it! She should be able to ask for sex without sounding like a toddler!

Rhys smiled at her, clearly more amused and charmed by her seduction attempt than turned on. 

“Oh? Is my sweet girl all worked up again?” 

As soon as he said those words she felt all the blood in her body rush south. She didn’t understand the hold this man had over her. How something so condescending and…fatherly could make her as wet and willing as a…well, a whore. 

Maybe she really did have daddy issues. 

“It’s just…we haven’t done…it.”

Rhys grinned like a shark.

“It?” 

She flushed. 

God, he was going to make her say it. 

Feyre glowered at him. 

“Sex,” she gritted out, annoyed. 

His grin only widened. 

“We already had sex. Don’t you remember? In the car, when I licked your sweet cunt.”

His words sent shivers down her spine and left a hot, pulsing heat throbbing away between her legs. 

“I mean,” she swallowed. “I mean…”

He loomed over her and she suddenly became aware of just how close he was. “Yes? What do you mean sweetheart?”

Oh he was enjoying this. 

Bastard. 

“I want…”

“What do you want?” His breath gusted across her face, still smelling of the champagne they had drunk at the gala. 

“Your…cock.” The last word was a whisper, barely audible as she stared up at him with wide eyes before glancing away quickly. 

Rhys seemed delighted. 

“And what do you want to do with my cock hmm?” 

Feyre couldn’t get any more words out, flustered and flushed by the heat and the fingers she could feel sliding up her arm. 

“Would you like to touch it? Kiss it?” He asked lowly, sweetly. The Devil promising the world to some poor sorry soul. “Or shall I put it inside of you until I get you to make those sweet little noises again?” 

Yes, she thought. All of the above. 

“Or maybe,” he continued conversationally as he brushed his nose along the sensitive skin behind her ear. “You’d like an encore of earlier? You seemed to enjoy me on my knees.” 

Feyre shivered and rubbed her thighs together as her traitorous clitoris pulsed away like a war drum. 

As if to prove his point, he slid down to his knees on the cold, hard tiles and nosed against her belly. She sucked in a breath as he gazed up at her from underneath eyelashes that were far too long and pretty to belong to a man. It was unfair really. 

“Will you sing those pretty little sounds for me again? Would you like that sweetheart?” 

With a steady, slow hand, he unhooked the knot holding her towel around her body so it could fall and pool on the floor around their feet. 

She heard him make an approving noise as he once more took in her bare breasts and belly and wet, pulsing cunt. 

“Look at you,” he said, pleased. “So pretty.”

He had backed her against the wall and she leaned on it now as those devilish hands crept up her thighs and brushed against the heated flesh hidden between. He peeled apart the lips of her cunt with a possessive sort of delight. As if this were far more for him than it was for her. 

The first swipe of his tongue was just as good as it had been in the car. Wet and warm and precise enough to pull several of those noises he liked so much straight out of her throat. 

“That’s it sweetheart,” he said encouragingly when he stopped to press a wet kiss to the inside of one thigh. “Let me hear you. Sing for me pretty girl.”

And damn him, she did. 

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Later, lying in bed the next morning, she remembers exactly what she had been after before becoming distracted (again). 

They still hadn’t fucked. 

Hell, she hadn’t even seen his cock yet and they were now three whole days—going on four!—into this arrangement. What on earth was he even getting out of this?

And why did he have absolutely no interest in letting her reciprocate? 

Was he disfigured?

Was it…small?

No, she thought, discarding that image immediately. He certainly hadn’t felt small when he had pulled her into his lap that first time. 

So what was the problem? 

That was the million dollar question now wasn’t it? Or rather…the twenty thousand dollar question. 

It was just so…weird. 

Men didn’t act like this. Not in her experience anyway. Every guy Feyre had ever met, no matter how nice and vocally feminist, was always—in the end— a taker. They took what they wanted, whether that was company, affection, or pleasure and—if a woman was lucky—they reciprocated. Men didn’t just give out orgasms and stacks of hundred dollar bills and designer clothes without expecting something in return. 

So what the fuck did he want?

And why was she so bothered by this? She had possibly the easiest job ever, where an attractive rich man clothed and fed her and licked her cunt until she screamed. What did she have to complain about? Why was she even complaining at all?

I must really want to see his dick, she thought ruefully. 

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She didn’t have to wait long for another opportunity to present itself. 

That afternoon—as she wandered out into the living area—she caught him on a business call, lounging on the couch while dictating the details of some boring business venture. Something about a merger? Not that any of that mattered. No, what really mattered was the fact that he was preoccupied and stationary. 

And wouldn’t be able to stop her via surprise cunnilingus again. 

(Not that she was particularly opposed to that usually.)

Like a cat clearly up to no good, Feyre sauntered over and sank to her knees on the plush carpet in front of him. 

He cocked his head and raised a distracted eyebrow. 

She smiled at him. 

“No, I don’t see how that would work,” he said into the phone, eyeing her curiously and threading warm fingers into her hair. She leaned into the touch. 

And then, while he was distracted, ducked her head down to press a kiss to his clothed knee. 

She saw the gears in that pretty head of his turn and knew exactly when he realized what it was she had planned when she heard a sudden inhale and felt the fingers in her hair curl into a fist. Gleefully, she dragged her lips higher, reveling in her genius when he was forced to simply sit there silently and let her do as she pleased. 

He made no protest when her fingers reached for his zipper. Nor when she pulled it down and reached her hand inside to wrap her fingers around his cock. All that earned her was a quiet inhale and his other hand tightening over his phone. 

“Yes,” he said a little breathlessly, still speaking to whoever was on the other end of the call. “I doubt he’ll go down without a fight.” 

His eyes burned into hers as he watched Feyre grin a cheshire’s smile at him. Feral and delighted. 

Then she bent down and licked a long stripe up his cock. 

This time he was far more obvious in his reaction. A shuddering breath. Head tipped back. Eyes fluttering. It was enough to make her shiver with glee. Drunk on her own power when she’d hardly done anything at all. 

Was this how he felt when he’d gone down on her in the car? No wonder he was always so pleased with himself. Every shiver and shudder pulled from him with just the tip of her tongue had her feeling like something divine. Like she was taming a tiger. 

It was delicious. 

I want this, she thought with surprise and no small amount of pleasure. It wasn’t that she particularly disliked blowjobs. She’d done it a few times during her previous short-lived relationships but it had always been…expected. Not a gift to be bestowed upon a lover but an obligation demanded of her whenever she asked for so much as the barest scrap of affection. 

But this felt different. Rhys hadn’t asked anything like this of her. Had, in fact, pulled an Uno Reverse on her when she’d tried to force the issue. And now here she was, on her knees before him because she wanted to be. She liked the way she made him twitch. The way she made him shiver and moan. She had never felt much in control with those other boys. But here, with Rhys? He was at her mercy. 

And it was electric. 

Fun. 

She heard a voice on the other end of the call say something like ‘Are you alright?’

She grinned, shark-like, as Rhys attempted to do damage control. 

“It’s nothing. Just feeling a little under the weather today.” 

Feyre smoothed her fingers along his pretty, pretty cock and suppressed a giggle. Underneath that thin skin she could feel the hot thud of his heartbeat against her fingers. Strong and fast. 

Maliciously, she squeezed. 

Rhys made a sound like he’d been punched in the gut. 

Another garbled line came through the phone, too quiet for her to hear, but she saw the way Rhys tried to even his breathing and play it cool. 

She didn’t let him reply. 

With a sly grin, Feyre looked him straight in the eye before swallowing his cock whole. 

She felt his body jerk. Hips rising from the couch cushion in surprised pleasure, cock hitting the back of her throat as she blinked back tears. 

“Yes, we’ll finish this later,” Rhys gritted out in a rush and then was throwing his phone to the other end of the couch and threading his fingers through Feyre’s hair, cupping her skull with reverent, desperate fingers. 

“You’re a menace,” he gasped. “A pretty little menace.” 

She blinked up at him innocently, all tear-stained cheeks and fluttering eyelashes but Rhys wasn’t fooled. 

“Where have you been hiding all this time hmm? Where did my sweet girl go?” 

Feyre’s only answer was to increase suction. 

He groaned. “Fuck!”

It felt like…a game. Where every action, every move she made, resulted in some delightful reaction from Rhys. Curious fingers under his shirt and over his nipples resulted in a shuddering breath and a tightened fist in her hair. A tongue along the vein underneath his cock earned her a whole series of groaned expletives. 

She wondered if…

Feyre brushed her fingers over his testicles, rubbing one gently, cupping it in her palm. He kept them impeccably groomed—so unlike the other boys she was used to—trimmed and soft. They felt delicate. Vulnerable. Curiously, she gripped them softly, not too hard, but just enough to tug them and—

That was what did it. 

She had never seen him come before. He had always been so focused on turning her into a boneless, mindless heap of endorphins that he never seemed all that concerned with his own pleasure. 

But not now. 

He looked, for all intents and purposes, like he were having a seizure. 

His fingers clawed at her—her hair, her shoulders, her breasts—like he needed an anchor, his breath coming in short, shuddering gasps. She tasted cum, hot and salty, at the back of her throat and swallowed reflexively…but that only seemed to make him shiver and groan even more. 

She couldn’t take her eyes off of him. 

Even after she let his cock slip from her mouth and he pulled her up into his lap she marveled over his new, unguarded demeanor. 

“You didn’t need to do that.” 

Feyre sighed, still high off of the power she’d wrestled so easily from him.

“I know,” she said dreamily, so very pleased with herself. “I wanted to.” 

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Elsewhere in the suite, Feyre’s phone buzzed with a new text. 

Nesta

3:27 pm

Just got home. Where are you?

Also have you seen my dress?

[mymelodyisme]

Hello again hon it's me the christmas anon, I hope your doing well and your feeling okay, I saw your gum and tooth post and hope that's not anything serious you know? As for me I'm doing alright....theses last two days has been heavy on my mind but I think sooner or later I'll be okay.

*leans over and kisses your head*

Better be taking good care of yourself too lol

-❄️☕️

Hey hon!!!! 🥳 I’m doing as well as I usually do. I 🥺 have a blister or something on the gum that connects the teeth to the chin. You know that little spot directly at the front center of your mouth that feels like a thin web yeah it’s tucked there and eating is a nightmare 😭 if it doesn’t go away soon I mean I’m not gonna do anything special I have to just wait till my dental appointment. So boooooo but at least I’ll be okay eventually, as will you!!! Life is like a tooth infection, you ache, and you feel it everywhere, but then you consume a nice little pill and it’ll make you feel better. 🤔 hmm that’s a horrible analogy.

But no, actually I do hope you’re okay 🥺♥️🩷 life can suuuuuuck and days can be awful and heck even a week or more can be stressful a time but what’s cool about being alive is that??? It doesn’t have to be so bad! You can be nice to yourself! You can surround yourself with people who are nice to you!!! And you can just say fuck it!!!! And walks outside and make it different. Running away to disappear into the woods dropping all socials and becoming some towns local cryptid is a perfectly viable option. I think I’d like to live in the woods as a witch but I’m 😭 a BIG baby when it comes to bugs. I wouldn’t survive in the wilderness for even an hour. I’m a delicate plastic flower. But no really, I say for the third time, you’ll be okay eventually. When I think about life I think back to how when I was little girl playing games like Homer Simpson Hit and Run. I always wanted to walk around the map and enter every building. And I knew that wasn’t possible. There’s nothing in them because why would the developers make that when they don’t have to? Well we’re real!!!

We can enter any building, go to any location, dig into the very ground we stand on and I think that’s kind of cool. There’s so much to life that we don’t think about and maybe sometimes we should be a bit more curious about what’s inside 🥳 treat yourself like a video game building. What can you find inside of yourself that makes you excited to take a peek. Idk!!! I hope that made sense!!!! It’s so happy to see you ♥️🩷

[ripcupid]

━━━ ★ something special . . . !

୨୧ literally just sevika fucking u in silco’s office, what’s the something special? SHIMMER STRAP OFC

୨୧ word count: 2.2k

( I’m ovulating so don’t mind 2 fics in 1 day)

୨୧ shimmer strap fanart if you’ve never seen it

“Just such a pretty girl, aren’t ya?” Sevika praises softly, making you nod as you rest your head on her muscular thigh, looking up at her with your pretty eyes as her mechanical hand comes down to gently stroking your hair. “Yeah, you were such a good girl tonight, didn’t complain not once. I think you deserve something special, don’t ya think?”

“Yes, please, Sevika,” you whine, lifting your head as you eagerly anticipate her “something special”. Sevika smirks at your eagerness as she reaches down, slowly unzipping her pants to let her shimmer strap string out. Your eyes go big at the sight of the glowing purple toy, chewing on your bottom lip as you stare at the size of it.

“This what you wanted, baby?” She asks, wrapping her hand around the base, already knowing the answer by the way you never take your eyes off it as it stands proudly between her legs. She lifts your chin, tearing your eyes away from the toy to make eye contact. “I asked you a question.”

“I want it so bad, Sevika, been waiting all night,” you whine with furrowed brows, your voice filled with desperation and need, whimpering when she squishes your cheeks together.

“You know what you gotta do first though,” Sevika chuckles lightly, guiding your awaiting lips closer to her cock, “give it a kiss, baby.” You comply eagerly, pressing a sweet soft kiss to the tip of her cock, looking up at Sevika with pleading eyes.

You kiss down the length of her cock, your tongue peeking out to trace the ridges. Sevika's grip tightens in your hair as you continue to worship her cock, a low laugh escaping her lips. "You like my cock, don't you?" she teases, spreading her legs wider as you eagerly nod in response.

"It's so pretty," you murmur, sitting back to trace along ridges, feeling how the shimmer gives the toy a slight buzz under your fingertips. You lick up the bit of shimmer that drips down the tip before taking it into your mouth. Sevika brushes back your hair from your face, balling it up into her fist, a smug smile playing on her lips as she guides you down her cock.

"Look at you, baby," she purrs, her hips bucking slightly just to hear you gag around her length. Your eyes water as you struggle to take her all in, but Sevika encourages you with a soft moan as if she could actually feel you. "You're okay, keep going," she whispers, gently pushing your head further down.

You feel a surge of arousal at her words, closing your eyes to focus on pleasing the woman above you. As you settle at the base of her cock, Sevika holds you there for a moment before slowly pulling you off with a soft tug on your hair.

She admires the flushed look on your face and the strings of saliva connecting your lips to her length, a satisfied smile playing on her lips as you pant softly. She strokes your cheeks, brushing her mechanical thumb across your lips making you kiss the cold metal finger. "C'mon," she says, moving back to give you room, "Get up here," Sevika commands, patting the desk in front of her.

You quickly scramble to your feet, sitting down in front of her as she leans back in her chair, a mischievous glint in her eyes. You can't help but press your thighs together as she stares at you, shying away as she scots closer, her hands resting on your knees.

"Gimme a kiss," she whispers. You lean down, closing the short gap between you as you meet her lips in a sweet kiss. She holds your hips as you hold her face, your lips moving in sync with hers. Her hands find their way to your shirt, pushing it over your chest to reveal your bare tits.

Her hands caress your bare back, sending shivers down your body as she traces your spine with her cool metal fingers. You moan against her lips as her hands find their way to your tits, kneading them gently as she deepens the kiss.

"Lean back for me," she whispers against your lips. You obey, leaning back on your elbows as she spreads your legs apart. You shiver as the cool metal of her hand holds your thighs open, exposing your damp panties to her hungry gaze.

"Fuck, baby, you're this wet already?" she chuckles, "just from sucking my cock and a few kisses?" You bite your lip, your face burning up with embarrassment as her human hand flips up your skirt. Your breath hitches as Sevika presses her thumb against your clothed clit, feeling the bud twitch under her touch.

"I can't help it, Sev," you gasp as she starts to slowly rubs circles around your clit through your panties, "You just make me so fucking wet."

"I can tell, baby," she smirks, dragging her thumb over your folds, feeling your wetness seep through the fabric. You can't help but whine softly as Sevika removes her hand from between your legs, pouting when she leaves you aching and desperate. "Calm down," she chuckles, pulling you to the edge of the desk.

You squirm against the desk as Sevika's tongue suddenly presses against your aching core, sending shivers down your spine as she soaks your panties. You let out a choked moan as she pulls back slightly to blow cool air against your wetness, making you gasp and your hips buck towards her face.

Sevika places soft kisses to the ruined fabric clinging to your cunt before pulling them down your legs, spreading your legs wider to get a better look at your drooling cunt. "You got such a pretty pussy," she murmurs, spreading your folds with her human fingers before licking a wide stripe from your entrance to your clit, causing you to moan loudly and arch your back off the desk in pleasure.

"Tastes so sweet too," Sevika adds before easily slipping two fingers inside you, curling them just right to hit your g-spot and make you cry out. "That easy, huh?" she teases, removing her finger before popping them in her mouth, savoring your taste before leaning in to suck your clit into her mouth, holding you in place with a firm grip around your thighs to stop you from trying to get away.

You fall back on the desk, your hands instinctively reaching for her hair, tangling your fingers in the short dark locs as you use her face for your own pleasure. As you fuck yourself on her tongue and grip her hair, Sevika moans in response, the vibrations against your clit making your thighs tremble and close around her head.

You feel the familiar tension starting to build in your belly, the feeling dissipates as soon as Sevika pulls back with an obscene pop. "No, no please, Sevy," you whine, sitting back up on your elbows as she smirks up at you, teasingly licking her lips before standing from her seat. "Shh, no whining, baby," she says, pushing your legs up to your chest, "Just tell me what you want… with your words."

"I wanna cum, please, Sevy," you beg, the desperation evident in your voice as you look up at her with pleading eyes. Sevika grins, leaning down to press a soft kiss to your pouty lips, "Where though, my fingers?" she teases, dragging her fingers down your stomach, "or my tongue, or I know, how about my cock?"

You nod eagerly, your cunt aching just at the thought, "Your cock, please," you whimper. Sevika chuckles, a mischievous glint in her eyes as she pulls your ass flush against her, "Good choice, baby," she grins, positioning herself between your legs, comparing the size of her cock to your body. "You think you can take it?" You nod eagerly again, reaching down to try and guide her inside you.

She chuckles softly, pushing aside your hands and teasingly tracing the tip of her cock along your slick folds, making you gasp with anticipation. Sevika watches the bit of shimmer that dribbles out of her cock with a smirk, enjoying the way it glistens against your cunt.

"If my girl thinks she can handle it, who am I to argue?" Sevika shrugs, holding your legs wide open as she slowly pushes into you. You moan loudly in response to the delicious stretch and fullness as she fills you completely.

"Wait, wait," you pant as Sevika settles all the way inside you, reaching for her hips to try and stop her as she pulls out, "I need a moment, please."

Sevika grins down at you, stopping her movements, "I thought you could take it?"

"I can, I swear," you assure her, "It's just so big and you're so deep." Sevika chuckles softly, leaning down to kiss you softly. You can feel her smirk against your lips as you wrap your legs and arms around her, kissing her back with equal fervor. "Don't worry," she whispers, "I'll be gentle with you, baby." Sevika stands back up, holding your hips firmly, "Ya ready?"

You nod eagerly, a long moan leaving your lips as Sevika slowly begins to move again, easing in and out of you with a steady rhythm. You grip onto her forearms, your nails digging into her skin and metal as she stretches you out on her cock. "Oh god, Sevika," you gasp, your jaw dropping as she picks up the pace, feeling each ridge and bump of her cock inside you with every thrust.

"I know, baby," Sevika grunts, her own breath becoming ragged as the harness presses against her neglected clit, sending jolts of pleasure straight to her cunt. "You feel me here?" she taunts, pressing down on your stomach as she continues to slowly thrust into you.

You cry out when she does, placing your hand on top of hers, "Yes, oh you're so deep," you moan, grabbing onto her hand. Sevika places your legs on her shoulders, her thrusts now deeper and hitting that sweet spot inside you that makes your eyes roll back. Silco's former office fills with the sound of skin slapping against skin and your moans mixing with hers, creating a sight that would leave anyone who walked in speechless.

Sevika leans down, folding her body over yours, pressing her forehead against yours as she grunts, "Love this pussy so fucking much, she takes my cock so well," she grips your cheeks in her human hand, catching your lips in a searing kiss before she pulls back slightly, locking eyes with you as she groans, "You feel so good, baby, swear I can feel you 'round me."

You cling onto Sevika, feeling the tension building once again in your core as she continues to fuck you with an pace that leaves you breathless.You stare into her eyes, holding her face in your hand as you whimper, "You feel so good, Sevy, please don't stop," your voice trembling with desire.

Sevika feels herself getting close to coming in her pants from the pressure of the harness against her aching and throbbing clit and your breathless pleas, dropping her head against yours again. She whispers, "I won't, baby, need you to come for me," her breath hot against your skin.

Her head nuzzles in your neck to plant soft kisses on your heated skin, her hand groping your tits as she continues to thrust into you with a relentless pace, driving you both closer to the edge. You arch your back, your clit bumping against Sevika's abs with every movement. Sevika leans in to capture your lips in a passionate kiss, swallowing your moans as you teetering on the edge.

"I'm gonna cum," you whisper breathlessly, your eyes fluttering shut as you clinging onto Sevika. With one final deep thrust, Sevika sends you over the edge, your legs shaking by her head with every thrust as you ride out your high.

Once you start to come down, Sevika slowly pulls out, watching the shimmer drip out from your quivering cunt as she slides off the harness. She pulls you to sit up, pressing gentle kisses along your neck and face as you catch your breath.

"You wanna make cum now, baby?" Sevika whispers in your ear, holding you close as you nod, a dazed smile spreading across your face. Your hands find their way between Sevika's legs, feeling her how she bucks towards you once you start to circle her neglected clit.

"Oh fuck, that's perfect, baby, " Sevika moans, her lips finding yours in a passionate kiss as she guides your fingers with a tight grip on your wrist. You grin as she twitches and shakes against you, your own desire growing with each curse word and moan that escapes her lips.

As she quickly reaches her peak, you feel a surge of satisfaction knowing you were able to return the pleasure she had given you. With a final gasp, Sevika collapses against you, her body still trembling from her release. You wrap your arms around her neck as she holds your hips.

"We should probably clean up," Sevika pants, pulling away from you slightly. "But that was so good, baby," she adds with a smile, planting a soft kiss on your lips before grabbing discrated clothes

"Thanks, Sevy," you smile as she hands you your shirt before she fixes herself.

-send request if you have any ��

[autumnmatt]

𝘨𝘰 𝘣𝘢𝘤𝘬 𝘵𝘰 𝘴𝘭𝘦𝘦𝘱 𝘣𝘢𝘣𝘺.

summary: matt is playing fornite with his two brothers and he gets to loud when he keeps losing, causing his girlfriend to wake up from her slumber.

classification: fluff

warnings: kissing, pet names, suggestive language, use of y/n

it was about 3 in the morning and you were fast asleep in yours and matts bed, snuggled up in a blanket with matts stuffed pug mr. wrinkleton tucked under your arm.

matt on the other hand was in the middle of a very intense fornite match with his brothers nick and chris. there were about 10 people left in that match and your boyfriend was very determined to win.

all was going good during the game play until him and his brothers came across this very sweaty team. “on me on me!! these kids are good I need backup quickkk” matt yelled to nick and chris through his headset.

he then faced one of the opposing teammates but of course he lost the battle between them and got knocked. “FUCKKKKK” he screamed out of frustration. nick also got killed a little while after matt did by the same person.

y/n wasn’t that much of a heavy sleeper so when he started to yell out, she shifted in bed a little opening up her eyes to see what the yelling was coming from.

she looked up and saw the bright screen in front of her with fornite being played along with her boyfriend sitting in his gaming chair banging on the desk from just getting killed. she puts the blanket over her head and closes her eyes in an attempt to fall back asleep.

“CHRIS DUDE YOURE SO BAD THOSE KIDS WERE ASS” matt yells, slamming his controller on the desk making a very loud sound that could be heard throughout the room.

y/n tossed and turned once more slowly losing the battle of getting back to sleep. so she got up, yanked the covers off of her body, and started sleepily walking over towards matt, dragging her feet with every step she took.

once she made it over to the chair where he sat she stood there, waiting for matt to realize she was standing here. and once he did he could see the pout forming on her lips, instantly feeling guilt for being so loud so late at night.

“oh baby I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you.” he frowned, muting his mic and taking his headset off then holding his arms out to her and patting his lap, inviting her to come sit down.

she straddled him and rested her head on his shoulder, enjoying the comfort of his warm body and taking in his familiar scent, the scent she loved most.

“go back to sleep baby, I promise I’ll keep it down”. he said and kissed the top of her head, wrapping his arms around her so that he could still have access to the controller also slowly rubbing up and down on her lower back.

“come to bed with me.” she groaned into his shoulder. she was already strarting to fall back asleep.

“of course I will baby.” he smiled taking his hands off the controller putting the headset on one last time to tells his brothers his was going to sleep. he shut of his computer, put his headset and controller up and gently picked her up to bring to the bed.

you wrapped your arms around his neck to prevent yourself from falling out of his arms. your face now buried into his chest.

he set you down on your side of the bed before walking over to his pulling the blanket over the both of you and situating the pillows so they were at a comfortable position under your heads.

you faced him for a few seconds to say your goodnights. you kissed his lips lazily before speaking. “goodnight I love you.” you spoke up, resting your head onto his chest and wrapping your arms around him.

“goodnight I love you too baby”. he said before wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling you into him. he kissed your forehead before you slowly drifted off to sleep in each others arms.

a/n: AHHHH I think this is so cute. my 2nd story on here, thank you so much for the love on my first story and definitely send me some requests. hope you enjoyed this fic, love you all!!!

taglist: @stayingstromboli @conspiracy-ash

respond to this post to be apart of my taglist!

[rafecameronssl4t]

dad!rafe request where in mabel has a phase where she's clingy to her mama instead of being usually clingy to rafe

Mama’s Girl || Rafe Cameron x fem!reader

A/n: Miss Mabes is what I call my puppy sometimes so I had to include Rafe saying it 🥲

Warnings: noneeee

Word count: 860

MASTERLIST (dad!rafe au masterlist)

The soft light of early morning filtered through the sheer curtains of your bedroom, casting a golden glow over the space. You were barely awake, caught in that blissful haze between sleep and consciousness, when you felt a tiny hand patting your face. “Mama?”

You opened your eyes slowly, finding Mabel’s wide, curious blue eyes staring back at you. Her unruly bedhead made her look even more adorable. “Mama,” she repeated insistently, her voice a little louder this time. Rafe stirred beside you, groaning softly as he rolled over and draped an arm over your waist, pulling you and Mabel closer.

“Miss Mabes, it’s too early for this,” he mumbled, his voice thick with sleep. But Mabel wasn’t having it. “Mama!” she declared, wriggling her way into your arms and snuggling against your chest. You chuckled softly, running your fingers through her soft hair. “What’s up, baby?”

“Stay with Mama,” she murmured, her little arms wrapping around you tightly. It had been like this for the past week—Mabel clinging to you like a koala, refusing to let you out of her sight. Normally, she was Rafe’s shadow, following him around the house, insisting on helping him with everything from mowing the lawn to fixing her toys.

But now, she wanted nothing but her mama. Rafe, still half-asleep, cracked one eye open and gave Mabel a mock-offended look. “What happened to Daddy’s girl, huh? You ditching me?” Mabel buried her face in your chest, mumbling something unintelligible. “Oh, I see how it is,” Rafe teased, propping himself up on one elbow. “You’re leaving me for Mama. After everything we’ve been through?”

You laughed, gently stroking Mabel’s back. “Don’t take it personally, Rafe. She’s just going through a phase.” “A phase where I’m chopped liver,” he muttered, though the amused glint in his eyes betrayed his faux-pout. Mabel peeked up at him then, her expression softening. “No, Daddy,” she said, reaching out a hand to pat his cheek. “I still love you.”

Rafe melted instantly, his signature grin spreading across his face. “That’s more like it,” he said, leaning over to kiss her forehead. “But don’t forget, you were my girl first.” The rest of the day followed the same pattern. Mabel insisted on staying glued to your side, whether you were cooking breakfast, folding laundry, or simply sitting on the couch.

She held your hand tightly, looked up at you with those big blue eyes, and said, “Don’t go, Mama,” every time you tried to step away. By the time evening rolled around, you were feeling the weight of her newfound clinginess. Rafe, ever the doting husband and father, noticed your exhaustion and decided to step in.

“Alright, Mabel,” he announced, scooping her up as you cleaned up the remnants of dinner. “Daddy’s turn. Let Mama have a break.” “No!” Mabel protested, wriggling in his arms. “Mama stays!” Rafe raised an eyebrow, clearly amused. “Mama needs to rest, sweetheart. Come on, let’s go read your favourite book. I’ll even do the funny voices.”

Mabel hesitated, her little brow furrowed in thought. Finally, she nodded, albeit reluctantly. “Thank you,” you mouthed to Rafe as he carried her off to the living room. An hour later, you found them snuggled together on the couch, Mabel fast asleep against Rafe’s chest. He looked up as you approached, a soft smile playing on his lips.

“See? She can’t resist Daddy forever,” he whispered, his hand gently stroking her back. You sat down beside him, resting your head on his shoulder. “You’re both pretty irresistible,” you admitted, your voice tinged with affection. Rafe kissed the top of your head, his voice low and warm. “You know, I don’t mind her being clingy with you. She gets it from me, after all.”

You laughed softly, your heart swelling with love for the two of them. As you sat there, the quiet hum of the evening surrounding you, you realised that no matter whose phase it was—Mama’s or Daddy’s girl—your little family was your greatest joy. And in that moment, with Mabel nestled against Rafe and his arm wrapped around you, everything felt perfect.

[affableramen]

when they finish earlier than you

mature content including sexual themes; established relationships

Wriothesley, Tartaglia, Neuvillette, Pantalone, Ayato, Capitano, Dottore, Alhaitham, Dainsleif, Baizhu

Wriothesley

He groans with emotion but it’s only a few seconds after he realises that you’re still beneath him, still haven't come. Wriothesley looks at your widened, surprised eyes and agape mouth. 

“Bloody hell—”, he spits with a shaky voice. “I’m so sorry, we haven't seen each other for a while and I—”

Wriothesley gently caresses your hip, while chuckling and looking at you half-blushing. “Shit, I must have missed you too much.”

It’s not a problem for him to bring you to the peak with his mouth or hands. 

Tartaglia

He squirts his release with a loud moan, pressing you close to his chest, his face buried into your neck. Those little bites shall leave radiant marks.

“Oh my god…” Ajax moans into your neck. “Oh f-fuck—I—”, he pats your back, “Fuck, I have never come so fast before. It’s not my fault, peanut, you’re too gorgeous for your own good.” He jokingly says, hiding his blush into your neck so you have no idea of it. Ajax is incredibly embarrassed and frustrated with his manhood that got too sensitive too soon.

Neuvillette

Neuvillette feels embarrassed and upset over losing his composure so quickly. He usually lasts long, and finding himself in such predicament gives way to the feeling of guilt and frustration.

“Darling, we can go one more round to get you satisfied. Please forgive me, my love.”

“No need to, Neuvillette, the both of us are tired. We can do it anytime during the week.”

“But I feel so guilty for coming first and not giving you the release you deserved. Let me at least satisfy you with my hands.”

“I don’t mind that, but please don't stress yourself out too much. It’s just sex, we can do many times better later. Nothing changes between us if you simply came early.”

Neuvillette caresses your face softly and speaks with emotion.

“You know that I usually last. I feel so defeated right now.”

To comfort your husband you place a kiss on the centre of his palm.

“Cumming early doesn't make my love to you fade, Neuvillette. In all honesty, I’m glad if I make you so excited that you can barely hold it together.” You give one other awkward but loving smiles. 

Pantalone

“I—I apologise. I did not foresee that, darling”, with a perplexed, disoriented look Pantalone pulls away. He gets purchase on the clean towel and covers his body in shame. A terrific sight, so rare for the Ninth Harbinger who is usually unabashed, especially in intimacy. 

“Oh my—how pathetic!”

You try to comfort him, saying that he must have been both too excited and tired after work, which ended up in premature peak, but Pantalone seems too distressed and angry at his inability to control himself as he quickly vanishes from the bedroom. 

Ayato

With a stiffled moan Ayato finishes, but somehow it feels so wrong - releasing much earlier than you, when his significant other’s orgasm is in question. 

Ayato grabs the towel and wipes himself clean, while looking down at you, your legs still thrown on his shoulders. 

“Oh my goodness”, he laughs at himself, but the laugh is nervous, not cocky or proud as it usually is. The man’s ego seems to die out ridiculously soon, as quickly as he finishes this time.

“We’ll have to go one more round after that…” he hisses, his member still very sensitive. “Once I get ready again.”

Capitano

“Hngghh—” 

Capitano pulls out with a well-heard grunt and pulls you closer to his chest. You are lying on top of him, your bodies are slightly wet when he makes a remark:

“I apologise, wife. It seems my stamina betrayed me tonight”, he gives a smooch to your cheek, brief but filled with devoted emotion. “Maybe if you stay a while like this, I can satisfy you longer. What do you think?” He delivers yet another kiss, this time to your neck. His voice sounds much quieter and he gently runs his hand through your hair.

“We should really stay together tonight. I feel like I need you more than ever. And not a word about this to anyone.”

Dottore

“Dottore, get out of the bathroom, immediately.”

“No!” A grunt and a curse escape from the inside of the bathroom. “I must learn what caused the fail in performance.”

“Dottore, I’m happy either way. Besides you looked quite funny.”

“FUNNY—she thinks I’m funny”, he utters to himself under his breath. “I’m going to check this little idiot for ruining our bedtime.”

Your amused laugh can be heard from the bedroom, as Dottore’s anger at his own manhood looks funny.

Alhaitham

“Oh, Y/N—f-fuck!” Alhaitham certainly does not expect himself to cum prematurely. His face looks red and his expression radiates emotion. You swear you have never seen a face sexier than this. You didn't know that he could ever be able to cum so hard (and so soon). 

Alhaitham scowls, looking at you. “What? You think this is funny? It’s just a one time occurrence.” Another moan escapes his mouth and he covers his face with his hand. “You shouldn't see me like this—”

Dainsleif

Dainsleif falls onto the bed, utterly defeated and pulls you with him. You notice how heavily he is breathing and judging by the perplexed look on his face, never he did expect rushing his own release. He was shocked, to say in the least.

“Don’t look at me like that. You think you’ve defeated me?” Dainsleif groans when you move to his chest. “I will make you finish twice next time, and believe me—much earlier than me.”

Baizhu

Baizhu lets out a moan he did not expect coming and immediately covers his mouth. His face is red and silly when he looks down at you. He is blushing extraordinarily, and the buds of sweat roll over his chest as he towers over you. 

“Let’s pretend this did not happen, my dear”, he runs his hand down your lips and onto your neck. “Oh my goodness, how embarrassing.”

Yet you just give him a sincere laugh. “Baizhu, it’s alright. I enjoyed it immensely.”

[jackmanwife]

Professor!Logan has always been professional, but you can’t ignore the way he looks at you during his lectures anymore. It’s subtle— a look that lingers on for far too long when you raise your hand or a small smile when you answer a question correctly— but it’s enough to make your cheeks grow hot. He leaves you little notes on the papers he turns back to you, too, and you save every last one of them. Study material. “You're smarter than most of my other students,” he praises, but you just giggle out a small "Thank you."

Professor!Logan is starting to catch on. Sitting in the front row, you're doing all sorts of things to catch his attention. Twirling your hair around your finger a little, biting the tip of your pen, crossing and uncrossing your legs. When he looks your way, you make sure to hold his stare, letting your eyes drop to his lips before flashing a small smile. After class, he orders you to stay behind, but you know this isn’t about the paper you turned in. “You’re not just interested in the material, are you, sweetheart?” When he walks around his desk, he doesn’t sit. Instead, he stands in front of you, towering, and you look up at him, keeping your eyes on his. “You’ve been distractin’ me for a while,” He steps closer, and your back presses against his desk, “You want me to show you what happens when I stop holdin’ back, darlin’?” His hand slides up your thigh, fingers brushing against the hem of your skirt, teasingly close to where you’ve been needing him all this time.

Professor!Logan knows you're back for more. He’s got his reading glasses perched on his nose, running his hands through the stack of papers in front of him, “This couldn’t wait until office hours?” he asks, not looking up as he marks a paper and flips to the next one. You take a slow step forward, shrugging, “No, I…” He looks up now, leaning back in his chair, folding his arms across his chest. “I wanted some extra help.” Logan’s eyes narrow slightly. You swallowed, “I just need to understand the material you taught today better,” you said, hoping he wouldn’t notice the way your voice wavered. Logan chuckles softly, lips curling into a smirk, “Is that so, darlin’? Because from where I’m sitting, it seems like you’ve got a…” His eyes take you in, looking you up and down, “different kind of help in mind.”

Professor!Logan is usually calling you back to his office after a long lecture. You’re sitting on his desk, legs dangling over the edge as he stands between them, his hands running up your thighs. “You sure you understood everything, sweets?” His lips brush against your ear before he presses a kiss onto it. One of his large hands slips around your waist, his fingers pressed firmly on your back, pulling you closer to him. You nod, leaning into his touch. “That’s good,” his thumb brushes gently over your cheek as he tilts your face up to his, “Been thinking about you all day, you know that?” He murmurs. You nod again, barely able to find your voice as his thumb brushes over your lip, and the look in his eyes tells you he’s just started.

Professor!Logan likes to keep you around now. You walk down the hallway to his office, a hot cup of coffee in your hand. You noticed the light still on under his door and couldn’t help but think about him working alone, grading papers into the early hours. Knocking softly, you step inside when you hear his short “Come in.” When you do, Logan looks up from his laptop, brows raised in surprise before they rest as he smiles. “What’re you doin’ here this late, darlin’?” He sounded so tired. You hold out the cup, and he takes it from you, his hand lingering on yours. “Thought you could use this,” you murmur, watching as he takes a sip, his eyes never leaving yours. He sets the cup down on his desk and shakes his head, “Always lookin’ out for me, huh? Come here,” he pats his open lap, “Keep me company for a while.”

[cloudwisp]

Jealous Sylus unknowingly sets himself up when he takes you to a 9-course kaiseki experience for a quiet and intimate dinner date. You’re both seated at the chef’s counter and the charming man preparing the food and serving you tonight was on the younger and attractive side. You can tell the chef pours his heart and soul into each beautiful small plate so you savor each bite with blissful appreciation and praise him for making such delicious food so skillfully with ease.

Sylus wouldn't dream of spoiling your night just because something is preventing him from sharing your enjoyment, but when you kindly ask the talented chef for his name it leaves a bitter taste in his mouth. He drags your seat closer to him, laying a soft kiss on your shoulder while maintaining a possessive grip around your waist. You’re infuriatingly oblivious to his display of jealousy as you keep your cute smiles about you and gently pat his cheek feeding him another bite.

After the lovely dinner experience, you and Sylus take a moonlit stroll basking in the cool night air. His thumbs are tucked inside his front pockets so you loop your arm through his to hold and lean some of your weight against him, exhaling that you didn’t know such simple and unique ingredients could make for such a tasty meal and you’d love to revisit the place again. You feel Sylus stiffen under your touch at that and his unimpressed response makes you realize his unusual behavior of keeping mostly quiet this entire outing. You pull him to an abrupt stop and with a tilt of your head and slight furrow to your brows you ask him what’s wrong.

Sylus takes a moment to collect his thoughts, glancing at the lamplight filtered road ahead of him then back at your concerned face and resigns with a small sigh. There’s an edge in his voice when he downplays the situation but the more he recalls your fangirl worthy attention toward the chef it slowly gnaws at him from within. “Nothing’s wrong. You just seemed to enjoy that food a little too much. And that chef a little too much.”

“Sylus, you brought me there so I’m not really understanding...? Of course, I enjoyed seeing the food be prepared right in front of us and the— Oohh, I think I see now.” You really should've tried harder to suppress the fond smile as your mind works to make perfect sense of the unwarranted tension between you and him. But it was truly adorable to think that even the fearsome Onychinus leader was jealous over something so silly and you reach up to playfully pinch his cheek. “Were you jealous? Is that why you were acting so strange?”

“Jealous, huh?” He laughs softly, but it sounds more like a scoff as his fingers curl around your wrist and he brings your hand back down to his side while brushing his thumb over your knuckles. “I wouldn’t say jealous, just… observant. You were practically gushing over the chef when I was right there.”

“Okay, I understand where you’re coming from. It seems I should be more interested in reminding my husband how much I love and adore him.” You encircle your arms around his neck and his expression softens with each tender kiss you trail across his face and meet his waiting lips for an achingly sweet kiss. His hands rest on your hips and tug you closer to him and he resists the urge to deepen the kiss like he’s a man obsessed and can’t get enough of his darling wife.

“I appreciate the reminder, kitten. But I might need another one when we’re back home for good measure.”

[luveline]

if it’s at all possible, i’m requesting the fluffiest, giggliest fic with poly!marauders where reader is just sad and teary so they get in a big cuddle pile and tickle her and kiss her until she’s a giggly mess and all cheered up 🥹 thank you lovely jade!! <3

ty for requesting angel! fem, 1.1k

You watch yourself in the mirror. At your vanity, a cotton pad soaked in toner in hand. You wash down your face gently, your eyes hot and heavy and waiting to fill with tears. 

Maybe it’s because it’s Sirius who’s sitting on your bed that you end up crying. It’s hard to explain why it makes a difference, why he’s the one out of everyone who you can’t hide from when you’re sad. It’s not as though James or Remus are any less understanding than he is. James is the most generous person you’ve ever met, he’d let you cry into his arms for days on end without complaint, and Remus understands better than most what it is to be in pain, but Sirius won’t make you talk about it. When you’re feeling better, you’ll realise that it’s the complete lack of pressure to confront your feelings that brings them to the surface. Sirius won’t ask you to explain yourself. 

The tears fall down in discordant waves. One from the left, two from the right. Your nose grows hot, an uncomfortable wetness gathering at the back of your throat. 

You put your cotton pad aside, sniffling. 

“You okay, my angel?” Sirius asks, turning another page of his novel. 

You take a shaky breath. “Yeah,” you say, voice thick with tears. 

“You don’t sound okay.” You watch in the mirror as he puts his book down. He stands up quickly, and you’re presented with how good looking he is. Even through tears, he looks pretty. “What’s wrong?” 

You bend in on yourself, pressing your fingers to your eyes. “It’s nothing.” 

His hand falls against your shoulder, warm, the other not far behind. He leans on your back. “Come on, sweet girl,” he whispers, “don’t cry by yourself. Come to bed with me.” 

He doesn’t push you. You knew he wouldn’t. 

You let him usher you into the bed, where he sits with crossed legs and you fall into his chest. Your shoulders ache with your crying, shaking as the tears turn to sobs. You think about everything too much. And, despite the best intentions, Sirius’ gentle patting and hugging makes you cry harder. 

It’s a quiet house. The sound of your breakdown attracts another boy. He climbs into bed in front of you both. You know it’s Remus because James’ would’ve exclaimed in fear at the door, his hand tentative on your thigh. “Is everything alright?” he asks softly. 

“She’s okay, just a rough day,” Sirius says. 

It isn’t a lie. You wrap your arms around his waist like a clamp and lay there, face slipping down against his stomach, all bent and hurting as tears soak his dark t-shirt. 

“Really rough, it must’ve been,” Remus says. He rubs your thigh. “It’ll be okay. We’re here.” 

That makes you cry worse, too, but eventually the sentiment is driven home. No matter how bad the day is, or what happens to you, you’ll always have people to come home to who love you, and who want to rub your back for you when you can’t calm down. 

Remus pats your leg in a rhythm. Sirius stays very still. They both, somehow, know what you need. 

A little later, you lay with your face pressed to Sirius’ chest just shy of his armpit, Remus’ patting turned to light tickling, his voice a low constant. “You’re just so beautiful it intimidates people, that’s your problem, dovey, you’re scary because you’re that pretty. You think I’m blowing smoke, but I’m serious, and Sirius agrees with me, and James would get down on his knees right here and now and testify to that same thing.” His hand slides between the soft upper insides of your thighs to squeeze one reverently. “Everyone is jealous of you.” 

“Stop it,” you mumble. 

“She’s smiling,” Sirius says, drawing a loop behind your ear. 

“Stop.” 

“Everyone is jealous of me,” Remus furthers, “at Books and Coco, whenever you come with me, the boy behind the counter always gives me that stupid chauvinistic look like I’ve done some great service to men-kind in landing you.” Remus leans down to kiss your leg. “And it’s silly that he gives me that look, but his sentiment isn’t wrong. I can’t say I landed you, but I am lucky.” 

“Stop,” you say again, laughing as his breath further tickles your leg. 

The door to the bedroom clatters open. You jump, having not heard the front door, but Sirius rubs your arm and you quickly calm. After all, it’s James coming in. He’s far from scary. 

“Hello,” he says, a little breathless, “you guys wouldn’t believe the photo I just took at the pond. The sun was setting and there were all these colours coming through the trees and over the water.” He gives you a funny look. “Have you been crying?” 

“Just a bit,” Sirius says gently, hugging you a half inch closer, “she’s alright now.” 

James frowns. “I’m sorry I wasn’t here.” 

“It’s okay,” Sirius answers for you. To some, his speaking for you might irk them, but right now it’s exactly what you need. It’s less embarrassing to have him talk for you. “Remus has praised her half to death, and he keeps tickling us both.” 

“Oh, you’re tickling him too?” you ask. 

Remus squints at you. “Well, just a little bit.” 

You put upon a forlorn sigh. “I’m not as special as I thought.” 

“Sweetheart, you are the most special,” James says, climbing into the bed, making you the centre of their flower, “you’re gorgeous. Let’s have a kiss.” 

“That’s what I said,” Remus says, laughing as you lean away from James’ kiss, even as big hands find your cheeks to hold your face. 

“Come on, lovely girl, just give me a kiss so I know you’re alright,” James says. 

You evade to tease him. You can’t help laughing as you turn your head one way and then the other, quick to dodge him, his lips pressing half kisses against whatever bit of skin he can as you move. 

“This is harassment!” you laugh. 

“Just one kiss…” He holds your face steady, and he looks at you long and hard. When you move your chin up to kiss him, he moves away. “You’re okay?” he asks softly. 

“I’m fine,” you laugh, kissing him quickly. 

James collapses atop you, all his weight and smells. “Thank god for that.” 

“Well, thank Sirius,” Remus says, “he did all the back-rubbing.” 

Sirius groans and tries to get out from under you. “You’re all very heavy.” 

“James? Can I see your photo?” you ask. 

He squeezes you half to death in answer. 

[emmyrosee]

“Do I have a cute butt?”

“Excuse me?” Osamu asks at your question, popping an eye open as he chuckles. You giggle at your matched silliness, gently patting his chest.

“You know.... like, is my butt cute?” You ask again, traveling your eyes to look. Your leg is hooked over his waist, his large hand running along your thigh sweetly.

Osamu sighs sleepily, “is this one of those scenarios where if I answer, you’ll hit me?”

You giggle at him, “depends on your answer.”

“Then I think you have, single handedly, the cutest butt in the world, sweet love.” His large hand travels down and gives your ass a gentle pat, almost like you were a baby.

Well, you are his baby, as he always assures.

Your heart flutters wildly at his words, they always have an effect on you, and you can’t help but nuzzle into his chest further to hide your face.

“Awww,” he teases. “Did I make my angel girl all shy?”

“Shut up,” you mutter, shoving him lightly. He chuckles lowly before shoving his hand under your hip and pushing you up, guiding you to straddle his waist. He gently caresses your sides and thighs, dopey, loving smile on his pink lips.

“I think every part of you is the cutest, my love,” Osamu whispers, making you roll your eyes.

“Oh yeah?” You challenge. “Like what?” He raises his own brows, “everything.” He gently takes your hand in his, “I love these small, sexy hands of yours.” He plants a kiss to each of your fingers before closing them, placing a final kiss to your knuckles. You bite your lip, brushing the fallen locks of hair out of his eyes.

“They’re not small,” you protest. “Yours are just massive.”

“Either way,” he continues. “I love these hips, and these legs that everyone stares at when you wear shorts,” he gently digs his fingers in your thighs slightly, leaving lightened prints before transforming back to your original skin tone.

You avert his gaze, “they stare because my hips come up to your thighs. Tall freak.”

“They stare because you’re hot,” he says, putting extra emphasis on the ‘T’ and grinning like the Cheshire Cat. “They stare because somehow, your stunning ass got stuck with me."

“I love being stuck with you!"

“I love it too,” he assures, smiling as you laugh. “That’s another thing,” he says. “That sweet laugh of yours.”

“Oh, you mean the dolphin mating call?” You scoff, crossing your arms.

Osamu shakes his head, “no, you brat. I’m talking about your laugh. Your sweet giggles. Your scoffs. The way it goes silent when you laugh really hard. It the fucking best.”

“No it’s not,” you groan. “You’re the only person on planet earth who could find a walrus being assaulted with a crowbar cute.”

“There’s nothing wrong with finding your little giggles endearing.”

“Yeah, right.”

“But you know what I love most about you?” He asks, cupping your ass and hips in his massive hands.

You quirk your brow, “what’s that, oh Prince Charming of mine.”

“My absolute biggest weakness about you, dollface, is...” he squeezed harder. “Messing with you.”

You can barely process what he said before he bucks his hips up against you, bouncing you up and down. You scream out in laughter, planting your hands to his chest. His own laughter mixes with yours, his thighs continuing to bounce you like you’re a rider on a horse.

“Okay, okay!” You manage between giggles. “I get it!”

“Don’t,” bounce “think,” bounce “you,” bounce “do.” He grins as he stops bouncing, sitting up to wrap his arms around you, pulling you flush to his chest as you both flop back down.

“You’re so bad,” you giggle, running your hands over his chest. Osamu chuckles, planting a kiss to your head.

“What can I say,” he sighs dreamily. “I'm a man of poetic genius.”

"If that's what you want to call it."

Immediately, hands dart under your arms to tickle you viciously, smirking as you shriek and clamp your hands to your sides and laughter pours out of your lips.

It truly was his favorite sound.

[wyniepooh]

Closer

you thought that you were already close with patrick and art; turns out, you could get even closer.

Boardingschool!patrick & boardingschool!art x boardingschool!reader.

it’s no secret that the three of you were close.

Everyone at school acknowledges it by joking that you’re practically their manager, because you’re on the bleachers at every practice, seated front row at every match, and the second the match finishes, the first person they go running to is you.

in fact, you're all so close that you've developed a habit to follow them into the locker room after every practice. if anyone ever questioned your entry into the room, they’d both chime at the same time: “she’s ours.”

neither of them bat an eye when you sit down on the bench between the metal lockers and watch them get changed because it’s you, their little manager, and they didn’t ever hide anything from you.

You’d read them the daily school news, explain the daily school gossip, and update them on any homework they missed in the name of tennis practice. they’d thank you in their typical ways by ruffling your hair and throwing their sweaty shirts on you before sandwiching you in a suffocating hug.

You shriek and laugh and say, ‘stop it!’ but really, you’re too focused on the feel of their bare chests against you— slippery from sweat and hot from the heat— to care about anything else.

There’s always a brief moment after all the amusement when the laughter dissipates and you’re all just staring at each other. Your smile fades, and suddenly you’re painfully aware of their rapid breaths rising against you on either side, and the heat of it all fills the silent air with something else other than just audible breaths.

Today it’s patrick who looks over to art first, who returns his stare with pressed lips. you catch a flicker of something in their eyes, but they looked away before you could decipher it. However, it was clear that a silent agreement had been reached right in front of you. you suspect that for the first time since you transferred to the school, they were hiding something from you.

patrick breaks the silence first, turning slightly away from you to gently close his locker as he murmurs, “you know, there have been a lot of rumours on campus lately.”

You scoffed, stuffing your agenda into your bag before smoothing a hand over your hair. “Really? What kind of rumours?”

Patrick shrugged. He pulled a shirt over his shoulders, nodding his head towards art. “Rumours about us, mostly. Tell her, art.”

art purses his lips multiple rimes before speaking. “It’s just trash talk,” he pauses. patrick glances over to him one more time, flashing him a subtle glare before art finally continues, “there's talk about how the three of us are suspiciously close, or whatever.”

“I guess it’s not so much a rumour as it is true,” you responded. You tilted your head towards them both, eyes squinting with humour as you questioned, “you guys do consider us close, right? I mean, after all I do for you guys, I’m honestly glad that people are speculating and starting to appreciate my efforts.”

“It’s just,” Patrick turns back around, shuffling his feet to sit down across from you on the bench with legs on either side of the wooden plank. His hands are gathered in the middle, fingers attempting to itch closer and closer to your own without you seeing.

“We could be a lot closer, you know.”

You raised an eyebrow at Patrick’s sneaky hands, a slight smile still intact on your face as you asked, “How close can we get, pat? There’s a limit to everything. Even the sky.”

“he’s right.”

You almost jump at the sudden voice you hear in your ear. you cleared your throat as he slid closer towards your back. Art mirrored Patrick’s movements with legs on either side of the bench, but his hands fiddled with the edge of your hoodie as he rested his chin on your shoulder.

“We could be a lot closer.”

You observed the way art pressed his lips together, snuggling his face into the side of your neck as Patrick’s thumb rubbed circles on your hand. you hadn’t even registered that patrick was now grinning, guilding your unsuspecting hand towards his dark curls.

You instinctively wrap your fingers around his wet hair, and you almost gasp when you hear patrick whimper. He pants heavily against your wrist, lips tickling the tender skin as he breathes, “why don’t you come over to our dorm after class?”

You shake your head, dropping your hand from his head. “I don’t think-“

“Please,” art whispers against your neck.

You close your eyes, sucking on the inside of your cheek as you sighed deeply. For a beat, you simply listen to the sound of their synced breathing, taking in the familiar smell of the locker room, and the familiar smell of them. When you open your eyes again, Patrick and art are both eagerly staring at you, pleading with silence.

You suddenly laugh, smiling uncontrollably as you lean back against art and pull patrick closer by the hand that is still wrapped around yours. patrick gladly scooches closer until his nose is practically rubbing against yours, and he returns your laughter with a chuckle of his own.

“Okay,” you mutter while glancing back at art, whose mouth was agape with something adjacent to shock.

“so let’s get closer.”

-

a/n: “why don’t u come over to our-“ bags r packed.

[kazuhaiku]

love story

summary: kinich makes a surprise visit to fontaine and wants to spend the entire day with you, no excuses.

warnings: gender neutral reader, fluff, might be ooc kinich (it's just my interpretation on his personality as of now).

notes: silly little kinich fic as my first post >< reblogs and comments are greatly appreciated :)

“kinich!” you exclaim from the hunters’ guild, a huge smile on your face as you see him walking towards you, a nonchalant look on his face as usual. “hey! i didn’t know you were visiting fontaine. you should have told me!”

“it wouldn’t be a surprise if i tell now would it?” kinich replies, ajaw beside him nodding in agreement. “what are you doing in the hunters’ guild? did you receive a new commission?”

“mhm,” you hum in reply. “lumine and paimon are taking a day off so i’m taking over their commissions for today!” you hand him the list of commissions that are currently available to do and you swear you can see a faint glint of disappointment in his eyes when he sees how many commissions there are to do. “i’m-”

“let me help.” kinich abruptly cuts you off. “you’ll get this finished faster when i’m helping. i’m allowed to help, right?” his eyes flicker over to katheryne who is smiling amusingly. 

“yes of course, if that’s okay with y/n?” katheryne eyes you knowingly. despite katheryne being a robot, she has a clear understanding of the tension between you and kinich (a little too well, if you must say).

you clear your throat. “oh um- yeah of course you can help!” kinich smiles at your answer. he keeps the piece of paper containing the commission details inside his pocket.

“come on, no time to waste. we have lots of things to do today.” kinich exclaims almost excitedly, and you can’t help but wonder what plans he’s got for you today (because why else would he come all the way from natlan to fontaine?).

kinich indeed wasted no time because as soon as there was a fight, he jumped straight into it, killing the enemies almost instantly. before you know it, the commissions are all done hours before your predicted finish time.

kinich wipes the sweat away from his forehead, acting as if he didn’t just do all the commission for you. he turns around and gives you a big smile. “we’re done now, yeah? you’re finished with work?”

“um, yeah…” you stare at kinich as if he just ate a spider.

kinich tilts his head to the side. “what? why are you staring at me like that?”

“no it’s just,” you let out a small laugh, suddenly finding kinich’s actions a bit funny. “aren’t you acting a bit too… desperate?”

“d-desperate?” kinich stutters, a red hue filling his cheeks. “i don’t- i don’t know what you’re talking about.”

you raise your eyebrows. “really? so you did all my commissions in under ten minutes, used every single teleport waypoint instead of exploring the land like you always do, and made me watch you do the commissions instead of letting me help?”

kinich’s cheeks turn darker as you speak, and he immediately covers his face, as if his plan has been busted. “okay, you’re right. i’m… desperate.” he removes his hand from his face, pulling you into a tight hug. “i missed you so much, okay? my work lasted much longer than i had expected, and there was no time for me to write a letter to you.”

you can practically hear the pout in his voice. you gently pat his back, consoling him. “i missed you even more, kinich. how long has it been since we last met?”

“four weeks.” kinich says almost instantly.

you hum. kinich lets go of you, however, one of his hands is still holding one of yours tightly. he doesn’t say anything, and only focuses on caressing your hands, as if you are going to disappear when he lets go.

“kinich,” you call out, and his head whips up. “i’m not going anywhere.”

“i know, i’m sorry,” kinich sighs. “i had so many plans for us today but now i can’t even think of what we should do first.”

“well, considering i- we finish the list of commissions earlier than i had expected… why don’t we start from the top of the list?” you suggest. kinich’s eyes lit up, however, there is a glint of confusion behind it. “of course i know about the list. we’ve been dating for, what, four months now? i know you keep a list whenever we go out.”

kinich makes a sound of surprise and he lowers his head, slowly grabbing the piece of paper from his pocket. he hands it to you silently. “you know me too well, y/n.”

you smile, opening the paper. there aren’t many things on the paper, considering that he listed only five things; explore the court of fontaine, stop by the cafe there and have a nice little coffee date with y/n :), ride the aquabus (seems like fun), visit the opera epiclese, visit the chioriya boutique and gift y/n an outfit!

“wow…” you gasp in awe. “chioriya boutique? how’d you know i like her outfits?”

“remember the letter we last sent out to each other?” kinich asks and you nod. “well, you briefly mentioned her. how you love the outfits she makes and you made a little note on the side saying how you really want an outfit from her but you don’t have enough mora to buy one.”

“that- kinich that letter was probably sent a month ago! how do you still remember that?” you ask, surprised that he remembers the small detail.

kinich only smiles in response. “well, no time to explain. come on, let’s ride the aquabus! i’ve been dying to ride them ever since i got here.”

he pulls you and starts running, almost making you tumble. well, since he’s really excited, you can’t really complain. a happy kinich is a sight to behold.

[pucksandpower]

Favoritest People

Charles Leclerc x Reader x platonic!Max Verstappen

Summary: drunk you tends to get quite a bit emotional and clingy … even with your boyfriend’s rival-turned-friend

The bass thumps through your body as you sway on the dance floor, cocktail in hand. Monaco’s most exclusive club is packed tonight with beautiful people laughing, drinking, and dancing. The flashing lights cast colorful shadows across gleaming skin and expensive clothes.

You grin dopily at Charles, reaching out to straighten his shirt collar. “You look so handsome tonight, babe.”

He chuckles, taking your hand and spinning you into his arms. “And you look gorgeous, as always.” His voice is low in your ear, sending pleasant shivers down your spine.

Giggling, you loop your arms around his neck as you sway together to the rhythm. “I’m having such a good time. This is so much fun!”

“Good, I’m glad.” Charles presses a kiss to your forehead, his thumb stroking along your jaw. “But maybe take it easy on the drinks, yeah? Don’t want you getting too sloppy.”

You roll your eyes dramatically. “I’m finnnne. Don’t be such a worrywart!” Sticking out your tongue, you spin away from him and do a clumsy shimmy, nearly sloshing your drink all over the both of you.

Charles just shakes his head fondly, steadying you with a hand on your waist. You catch Max’s eye from across the dance floor and wave enthusiastically. He lifts his glass to you with a lopsided grin.

Abandoning Charles for the moment, you weave through the crowd toward Max, stumbling a bit in your high heels. By the time you reach him, you’re slightly out of breath but beaming. “Maxieeee!”

He raises an eyebrow at your drunken exuberance. “Having a good night, I see.”

“The best!” You throw your arms around him for a tight hug, getting some of your drink on his expensive shirt in the process. “I just love you so much, you know that?”

Max laughs, patting your back. “Yeah, yeah, I love you too.”

Pulling back, you grab his face between your palms so he has to look you in the eyes. “No, like, I really really love you. You’re the sweetest guy ever and those stupid fans who boo you are so messed up. If I ever hear anyone booing you again, I’m gonna fight them! With my bare hands! I’ll claw their eyes out!”

Your earnest defense of him only makes Max laugh harder, lines crinkling around his eyes. “Wow, my very own bodyguard. I feel so safe now.” He shoots an amused look over your shoulder at where Charles is hovering uncertainly.

“I’m serious!” You insist, giving his cheeks a shake. Tears are starting to prick at your eyes, a side effect of how emotionally open you become when intoxicated. “You’re just … you’re the best, Maxie. The absolute best. Those people don’t deserve you. You deserve the world.”

Max’s gaze softens as your alcohol-tinged words slur together. “Hey now, no need to get all weepy on me.” He uses his thumbs to wipe at the dampness on your cheeks. “I’m good, I promise. More than used to a few boos by now.”

You hiccup, arms tightening around his neck as you bury your face against his chest. “Still shouldn’t happen. You’re too precious for this world.”

A warm hand settles on your back. “Alright, alright, I think someone’s had enough fun for one night.” Charles gently tries to extricate you from Max’s embrace.

“Nooo!” You cling stubbornly to your friend. “I’m not done telling Maxie how much I love and appreciate him! Don’t take me away!”

Max snorts, wrapping one arm around your waist to keep you from toppling over. “It’s okay, Charles. She’s not bothering me at all. I think it’s sweet.”

“That may be, but we both know how much of a sloppy drunk she can be.” Charles glances pointedly at the damp spot on Max’s shirt. “I don’t want her embarrassing you or getting sick all over the place.”

You finally lift your head to pout at your boyfriend. “I would never! You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

As if to prove your point, you sway unsteadily on your feet, having to clutch at Max’s biceps to stay upright. Both men eye you skeptically.

“Sure, ma belle. Just let me get you home before you really make a scene, okay?” Charles reaches for you again, more insistently this time.

Evading his grasp, you stumble back a step, shaking your head adamantly. “No! I don’t wanna go home yet! The night is still so young!”

You spread your arms out, twirling in a wobbly circle that has both Charles and Max tensing like they expect you to topple over at any second. When you come to a halt, Max’s chest is suddenly right in front of you.

Stretching up on your tiptoes, you throw your arms around his neck and plant a smacking kiss on his cheek, leaving a ruby imprint of your lipstick behind. “I love you, Maxie!”

“Whoa, okay!” Max goes cross-eyed for a second at your proximity, hands fluttering uncertainly by his sides. “I, uh, I love you too, but — Charles? A little help here, mate?”

Charles is at your side in an instant, trying to unwrap your limbs from around Max with minimal grabbing or yanking. “Come on, mon cœur, let’s go. You’ve had more than enough fun tormenting poor Max for one night.”

“M’not tormenting!” You protest, slurring. You pat clumsily at Max’s face, smearing more lipstick in the process. “Just telling the truth! My favoritest person!”

“We both know that’s not true,” Charles says with a squeeze of his eyes, finally managing to dislodge you from Max. He sweeps you into his arms bridal style. “Say goodnight to Max, chérie.”

“Nooo! Put me down!” You kick your feet halfheartedly, craning your neck to mouth “love you” at Max one more time over Charles’ shoulder.

Max just waves, that amused grin still playing around his lips as Charles carts you away. You pout, collapsing back against your boyfriend’s chest with a grumpy huff of, “You’re the worst.”

“So you keep telling me.” Charles presses a kiss to your slack mouth, not seeming bothered in the slightest by your drunken ire. “But you’ll thank me for this tomorrow when you don’t have a raging hangover.”

Since Charles is clearly intent on removing you from the club no matter how much you protest, you decide to bask in the warmth and closeness of being carried. Nuzzling into the curve of his neck, you mumble, “I really do love Max so so so much though.”

“I know you do.” Charles’ thumb strokes over your cheek, touch unbearably tender. “In your own weird and oddly endearing way.”

You whine, squeezing your eyes shut against the harsh lights of the club’s entrance as Charles carries you outside. “M’not weird! Just honest when I’m drunk!”

“I wouldn’t have it any other way,” he says, amused.

The sounds of thumping bass and crowd chatter fade as he deposits you carefully in the backseat of the waiting car. You immediately curl onto your side, blinking up at him owlishly from the leather seat.

Charles brushes the hair back from your face with a soft smile. “I really do adore you, you know? Even when you’re sloppy drunk and mauling Max with affection.”

Biting your lip, you grab his hand and turn your face to press a kiss against his palm. “I adore you too, Charlie. The mostest.”

His dimples appear and he leans down to catch your lips in a sweet, lingering kiss. When he pulls away, he looks almost dazed for a moment before giving himself a shake. “Get some rest, mon ange. I’ll get us home safe and sound.”

You hum agreeably, already feeling sleep start to tug at your eyelids. Just before you drift off, you slur one last thing.

“Y’know you’re still my favoritest person though, right? Always an’ forever, baby.”

Charles ducks back into the car to place one more tender kiss on your forehead. “I know. Always and forever.”

[allbark-no-bite]

good boy.

art donaldson x reader (wc: 2.9k)

summary: as Art’s personal physical therapist, it’s your job to fix what Tashi has torn apart, by whatever means necessary. or in which Art just needs some TLC

warnings: 18+ smut, it could be worse tbh, mentions of disordered eating

author’s note: i’m back ig?? im out of uni for the summer and challengers has me in a chokehold. Art Donaldson the man that you are

————————————————————————

You're standing just within earshot of the doorway, passing a sanitary wipe over one of the tables in the athlete treatment room when you hear the door abruptly open. Tashi storms in with a purpose and Art trails meekly behind her. Even if you had been clueless to how the match had gone rather than on the sidelines beside Tashi not even twenty minutes ago, you could have guessed by the hard line of her mouth that Art was in for it. Not that her displeased scowl was much different from her usual scowl, but you'd been around long enough to know the difference.

She stops abruptly, and Art heels obediently as Tashi turns around to face him. "I need you to tell me when you're going to fucking get it together so that I can stop wasting my time."

Weary and sweat soaked, Art just stares at her with that pitiful look on his face and says nothing in reply. His blue eyes solemnly take in her harsh disappointment as though beyond used to it. At this point it's not all that foreign to you either.

"You may as well be fucking asleep out there," she snaps.

This time his mouth opens. "I- I'm just tired-" he begins, although there's hardly any argue to his voice at all.

"No, I'm tired, Art," Tashi interjects. "Do you have any idea how much fucking work I've put into getting you back onto the court this past year?! I've done everything! The least you could do go out there and try to act like I've done anything for you at all!"

Art swallows, the slight frown on his face deepening. "I am. I just- I don't-"

Before he can even finish his sentence. The open palm of Tashi's hand connects with his cheek as she pops the left side of his face. Art closes his mouth. You pretend to concentrate on wiping down the table. It's not the first time you've witnessed one of these conversations but it still feels private, like you shouldn't be here. You keep wiping the table.

Understanding that anything else he says is only going to make Tashi angrier, Art resigns to once again watching her in silence. His blue eyes are sad. The usually fair skin of his cheek is tinted pink where she popped him. Although it wasn't very hard, you're sure it still hurt him all the same.

"Quit wasting my time," is all she says before she finally turns and leaves, walking right past you and out the other door. You hold your breath as she passes you. Art watches her go but makes no move to follow. You release an audible sigh. It's been a frustrating day for everyone. As Art's personal trainer, physical therapist, and close friend, you felt every loss, every ache and pain, every bad play. And there seemed to be a lot of those lately.

Art is still standing there, watching the closed door that Tashi left though.

Not knowing how to break the silence, you finally pat the freshly sanitized treatment table. "C'mon," you call gently, as though beckoning to a wounded dog.

It takes a moment for him to budge, but eventually he does, his disheartened spirit apparent in the way he walks over. Used to the usual routine, he tugs his damp shirt off over his head as he takes a seat, the lean muscles of his torso flexing as he does so. You allow yourself to ogle at him, only for a brief moment before stepping in between the bracket of his knees. Gently, you cradle his chin, tipping his head back to look up at you as your thumb smooths over the redness of his cheek. His blue eyes blink up at you, sad and dog-like.

"It wasn't terrible," you reassure him. "You had surgery six months ago. You're still getting your feet back underneath you. Most people wouldn't have come back." You're right. The still-pink scars on his shoulder are still fresh on your mind. The stitches weren't even out before Tashi had him in physical therapy. Even though his medical team had released him, it was still a bit early to start doing rehab so soon after surgery, Art's comfort being your biggest concern. But when Tashi wants something, she gets it.

Wordlessly, Art sighs, the weight of his head settling into your palm as he finally lets go of the tension he'd been carrying. It was always like this. You fixing what Tashi had torn apart. You understood where Tashi was coming from. Art needed a firm voice in his training, and you had a lot of respect for the way she put her foot down and never let up, not even once. But there was only so many times you could kick a dog while he was down.

So if Art needed someone to coddle him, you would coddle him.

He trusts you. He needs you, is what Tashi had told you when she asked you to stay on as his trainer full time. The three of you had been in the same year at Stanford all those years ago, Tashi and Art on the tennis team and you helping out as a student trainer as part of a class requirement. Three peas in a pod, the trio of you were. Of course then they both graduated, leaving you to finish up your schooling, meanwhile Art set off to go pro.

A few years later, once Tashi officially took on the position as Art's coach, she began building his team, and that's where you came in. You were hesitant at first.

'I already lost to you once, Tashi. I won't come in second to you again.'

She had paused on the other end of the line. Back in your Stanford days, it was obvious to anyone with eyes that you were head over heels in love with the blonde tennis player. But loving Art was like accepting the participation ribbon for a game you knew you weren't going to win in the first place. It was like standing next to the podium, just lucky enough to be included in the picture while Tashi and tennis took first and second place. And so you let him go.

'I'm not asking you to. This is different.'

Your hand slips from his face, and he forces his eyes open.

“Have you eaten?" you ask, stepping away in order to put some distance between the two of you and look for the granola bars that you keep especially for him. The gels were good sources of quick fuel in between sets, but they were hardly enough to even begin to make up for the calories he burned while playing.

Slowly, Art shakes his head, but he makes no move to take the snack from your hand when you offer it to him. Ever since his injury, nutrition became all the more important. So much to the point that every single thing that he consumed was mapped out to the exact calorie. Although he would never admit it, any sort of change in this routine made him incredibly anxious. Some days it was better not to cause him the anxiety than to force him.

Today, you insistently hold out the bar until he begrudgingly takes it from your hand. You don't move until you've seen him tear open the package and take a bite.

"Were you still feeling tight?" you ask as you walk around the table, stopping at the slouch of his turned back. You reach out to grasp at the joint of his neck and shoulder, your thumb smoothing over the kinesiology tape that's peeling away at the base of his neck.

He half turns his head to glance back at you. "You watched the match. You tell me."

His response is meant to be snippy, but it comes out more defeated than anything. To be fair, you've been his trainer long enough to know that if something was bothering him physically, you would have picked up on it.

"I want to hear it from you."

"I felt fine."

Your left hand follows suit on the other side of his neck, and you use both of your thumbs to apply pressure to what you assume will be a tense spot along the upper part of his traps. Predictably, Art groans at the attention. The muscles of his back contract as he fights the urge to shake you off. Relaxing the muscle hurts as much as it feels good. Besides his obvious discomfort, the rest of his body has gone lax under your touch. His shoulders have dropped at least an inch, and his chin has fallen to rest against his chest.

"Finish your granola bar," you reprimand him, your firm fingers working across his back until you find another spot that nearly has him jerking away. He releases a whine but obediently takes another bite of the bar. This time he finishes it before you have to remind him again.

You spend a few more minutes torturing him before you're satisfied that a majority of the tension has left his shoulders.

"Okay, good boy," you murmur, leaning forward so that your chest is close enough to brush against his back. One of your hands trails up to squeeze the back of his neck reassuringly.

You're close enough to hear him swallow at the name. The skin on the nape of his neck shivers despite how hot he still is from the match.

"Was I?" he asks timidly. "Good today?"

'I can be his coach. Or I can be the person he cries to after a bad day. But I can't be both. That's why he needs you."

Without removing your hand from his neck, you walk around the table so you're standing in front of him. Art widens the spread of his legs so that you can stand between them. His chin is still pressed to his chest, blue eyes focused on the ground.

"Art," is all you say, shifting your grip on his neck to tug lightly at his golden blonde hair. At your voice, he lifts his head just enough to look up at you through the pale wisps of his eyelashes. The irises of his blue eyes shine are wet with uncertainty.

Your fingers loosen their grip to allow your nails to scratch at his scalp. "You're good, Art. You'll always be good."

Art twists his head to nuzzle his cheek along the inside of  your outstretched arm. His lips kiss the crook of your elbow. He swallows again. "Even if I don't play tennis?"

You can tell the question's been bothering him, eating at his nerves, and messing up his game. You know him well enough to know that retirement isn't what he wants, not really. At least not right now. What he wants is the reassurance that it's going to be okay if he can't swing the comeback.

"Look at me."

He lingers a moment longer with his lips pressed lovingly against your skin before he reluctantly shifts his gaze up to you. His look is anticipatory but reserved, as if to preemptively conceal his disappointment should you choose to crush his heart with your answer.

His fear is understandable. Art's relationship with Tashi has always been entirely built off of his tennis career. By being the driving force behind his success, Tashi has vicariously lived out the life she would have had had her injury never happened. Without tennis, Art has nothing left to offer her. He knows that if he gives up tennis, he loses Tashi.

Your relationship with Art was a little less conditional. Hell, you'd been in love with him since the first time you'd laid eyes on him at Stanford. You can still picture him standing there on the court, barely nineteen, scrawny, nervous smile, backwards cap over his strawberry blonde hair. Before he was the Art Donaldson. But when Tashi had stepped into the picture, you figured that was where your fairytale ended.

"I don't love you because of tennis. I love you because you're kind, and thoughtful, and you're passionate about what you do." You smile a bit before adding, "And you're my good boy."

The name turns him bashful again, and he's quick to turn and hide his smiling face against your arm, only the flushed tips of his ears visible. "[Y/n]," he mumbles, likely meaning to be threatening, but it doesn't come out that way.

Art Donaldson lived to be praised.

You laugh, pulling him closer so that his face is held against your chest. The hand that you don't have threaded through his hair trails up the muscle of his defined quad. "You're my good boy. Aren't you, baby?"

Art whines, squirming when your hand reaches the apex of his thigh and hovers over the forming bugle of his shorts. He's not quite there yet, his dick only half chubbed up in interest, but given the day that he's had, you won't make him wait.

"Please?" he mumbles, his face still buried into your collarbone, as if attempting to curling into you, like a small child needing their parent to hold them for comfort.

You rake your nails lightly up the inside of his thigh. "What, baby?"

Not only did Art liked to be praised, but he was masochist even on his worst days.

"Want you to touch me," he mumbles, his voice muffled by your shirt. "Please."

Your hand still scratching through his hair, you press a kiss to the side of his head, unable to suppress your smile at his timid politeness and how it never seems to fail him. The only time he ever resembled anything remotely voracious was on the court.

Palm finding his tented shorts, you cup him through the fabric. Art responds immediately to your touch, his hips shifting further into your grasp. You continue to pet him through his shorts, appreciating the way you can feel him actively responding to your touch.

His nails dig into the padding of the treatment table when you give his now fully hard dick a less than sympathetic squeeze. His breath is hot as he pants against your collarbone, alternating between laving open mouthed kisses to your skin and whining when you pause fondling him just to feel his hips rut up into your palm.

Art was so in control on the tennis court, that often after a match, putting the control into someone else's hands was just what he needed.

When his hips start to stutter, you ease up but continue to stroke him through his shorts. The front of his shorts are damp with the musk of residual sweat and precum.

His breath is shallow—anticipatory.

"Gunna come?" you ask softly, speaking into the blonde mess of his hair, cradling him. He right there, you can tell by the lackluster buck of his hips, his building fatigue, and the change in his breathing.

"Can I? —Please?" Art asks breathily. He hiccups out the last part, his voice catching.

"You know you don't have to ask."

There's a brief pause, as if coming to the realization, before he meekly murmurs, "I know.

It should be sad really, his unwavering obedience, but there are two sides to Art, two polar extremes. On the court, every match, every set, every debilitating second is up to him. No one else can help him out there, and up until about a year ago, he played like it. That was the side of Art Donaldson that Tashi wanted. After the match is a different story. In private, Art needed someone to do the thinking for him, to pull him into a reality where he could believe that it didn't matter whether he won or lost. Tashi had not the sympathy nor the patience for that kind of fragility.

Art comes with a brief cry into your chest, his body arching into yours. Your hand palms at his pulsing dick until he's oversensitive and pulling away. When you relent, the front of his shorts are sticky and wet.

Finally, Art lifts his face from the safety of your chest. His blue eyes are glossed over, but it's an improvement from the detached look they held ten minutes ago. His cheeks are flushed, a mixture of his own embarrassment and satisfaction. 

You can't help the soft smile that creeps onto your face at the look of him, and immediately Art is abashedly trying to hide his face again, his own smile starting to appear. Before he can, you bring your hands back up to cradle his face, thumbs wiping away the wetness from under his eyes. This time he lets you.

His eyes study your face for a second, admiring you, appreciating the love he has for you.

“I don’t want to play tennis anymore.”

You can’t tell if it’s more of a statement or a confession. Either way, you know he’s telling you the absolute truth.

“Okay,” you reply softly, not hint of judgement in your voice. Maybe some disappointment, but that was understandable.

Retirement would be a kindness. Art would finally put back on some healthy weight, start smiling again, put on a real, actual smile. You could already see it, a nice house for the two of you to settle down in, with a picket fence and a dog in the backyard, the kind of things the two of you would have never had time for on tour.

Tennis had brought the two of you together, but it wouldn’t end you.

[zvdvdlvr]

coffee shop meet cute + Spencer Reid

     “Hi! What can I get for you today?” You ask, not looking up from your tablet.

     “Uh…”

     You look up, a smile on your face. Your shift had just started and you had an astronomical amount of patience- you felt like it would be a good day the moment you woke up. When you looked up, your eyes widened. In front of you stood one of the finest, tallest, and smartest looking beanpoles that had ever came by your great aunt’s quaint coffee shop.

     His bottom lip was caught between his astonishingly bright teeth as he scoured the paper in his hand. “Sorry, I’d like a… I’m sorry, can I just give this to you? My friends sent me to get them coffee and I…” he looked up. The man’s voice trailed off: his eyebrows relaxing on his face as his mouth dropped open in a little ‘o’.

     Tilting your head slightly, you smiled. This guy was somehow smoking hot and adorable at the same time. “And you…?” you prompted.

     He blinked. “I’m- I’m so sorry! Uh, ca-can I just give this to you?” A hot pink Sticky-Note was offered to you that you excepted.

     Selfishly, you were happy there were no other clients in the café- you wanted to interact with this guy as long as possible. “I can definitely do that for you,” you inform the man, typing in the order for a few of your usuals. “Your total is… $18.57.”

     “Here,” he tells you, handing you a twenty. You hand him his change and start working on the orders. Swiftly and methodically, you complete the four orders like clockwork.

     When you finally set down the coffees on the table, you are not surprised to see the hot guy still standing awkwardly near the till. “Would you like a carrier?” You ask.

     “Please,” he answers with a nod. He takes the cardboard carrier and fits the cups snugly in the cupholders. “Thank you…” he reads the nametag on your apron, “y/n.”

     “You’re welcome…?”

     “Dr. Reid. Spencer- Spencer Reid,” he answers with a nod.

     “You’re very welcome Dr. Spencer Red,” you tell Spencer with a sweet smile.

     It would be a lie if you said you weren’t disappointed when Spencer gave you one last endearingly adorable smile and bid you goodbye. You watched his long legs carry him out of the building and busied yourself cleaning equipment until the bell rang and another customer came in and the world moved on.

     The bell rang- signaling a customer- and you frantically dried off your hands to tend to them.

     Words died on your tongue as the Dr. Spencer Reid strode up to the till while brushing his hair back. “I- Sorry if this is too forward- is there any way I can get your phone number? I’d love to get dinner with you sometime- or coffee or lunch or whatever you want- and get to know you more? If not, I can- I can just leave, it’s no problem-“

     “Spencer,” you interrupted him gently. Red bloomed all over his face an ears as he visibly deflated as he waited for your reply. “I’d love to have dinner with you. I can write down my number for you.” You patted down your apron pockets for the pad of paper you kept for special orders.

     Spencer watched you with bright eyes. Your kind smile, voice, and demeanor had struck him breathless. You wrote down your name and phone number with a little heart and smiley face beside the last digit. You handed the slip of paper to him with a bashful smile. “Thank you,” Spencer told you.

    You replied “you’re welcome” with the same sly smile as moments before.

     “I- I need to go to work,” Spencer stuttered out to you after checking his watch. “I’ll text you, y/n!”

     “I’ll be waiting, Spencer!” You called out to him as he scrambled out the door. 

      You were, in fact, right about today being good.

Bonus:

     ‘xxx-xxx-xxxx’: It’s Spencer from the coffee shop. I’m in town if you want to get dinner tonight. :)

     ‘You’: Hi Spencer! Can i call you spence? I’d love to get dinner tonight!

     ‘Dr. Spencer Reid :)’: Call me anything you want. Does Italian sound good? I can pick you up or we can meet there.

     ‘Dr. Spencer Reid :)’: Anything you’re comfortable with!

     ‘You’: I’d love Italian :D

     ‘You’: Send me the address and time and I will be there!

     Morgan loomed over Spencer’s shoulder during the entire conversation. Deep down, Derek felt honored Spencer cared enough to ask him how to respond to you charismatically and that was proud his ‘little brother’ was putting the moves on the ladies.