#and i don’t wanna work. so my brain is wandering

[an-ivy-covered-summer]

hey. seriously. would it be too unhinged to set the vibes for a buddie fic from the lyric “lightning strikes every time she moves”? akshdjdkfjdndhdhdjdnk

[val-made-a-mistake]

Currently imagining a scenario where you and Eddie have some sort of split custody arrangement for Venom, and you have some sort of NSFW dream about Eddie, and Venom sees the whole thing because of brain link or whatever, and then shares this exciting development with Eddie the next time he's bonded to Venom

venom is definitely not one to keep a secret, for sure 😭 thank you so much for your request, i hope you enjoy. :) smut-wise, it's a bit more focused on eddie than my previous fics where it was either symbiote-focused or an even split, hope that's okay. this was SO much fun to write!

warnings: brief smut, mentions of oral f receiving, mentions of "striking" the reader but it's totally a misunderstanding, loneliness, mentions of eating people/murder

word count: 3.3k

//////

It had been six days since Eddie had left for Seattle, and honestly, you hadn’t been expecting to fall into this loneliness so quickly. Venom might have been keeping you company by providing you with an endless stream of commentary in your inner conscience, and the chickens were constantly squawking and squabbling and wandering the length of the apartment as per usual, so it wasn’t like the space was totally silent, but still, Eddie’s absence was more saddening than you thought it would be. Over the course of the six days, you struggled to busy yourself. Of course you preferred Eddie having a job as to being without one, but one thing you particularly hated was how vague investigative jobs were, so as a result, you had no idea when he would come back or how long the work would take to be done.

For the time being, it looked like you were stuck here.

Before he’d left, Eddie had asked you to babysit Venom and his apartment, and now that you’d been here for an extended amount of time, you felt horribly restless.

Feeling the weight of the quiet apartment settling in, you cast a glance around the room. The hum of the refrigerator seemed to amplify in the sort-of silence, and you found yourself drawn to staring at Eddie's belongings scattered around.

Your gaze fell on a framed photograph on the shelf – Eddie with a carefree grin, arm slung around your shoulders. The memories flooded back, and a bittersweet smile touched your lips.

As if sensing your thoughts, Venom's voice rumbled in your mind.

EDDIE IS DEFINITELY MISSING OUT WITHOUT US AROUND.

The symbiote's attempt at comfort was appreciated, but it only deepened your sense of solitude.

Sighing you folded yourself into a ball on the couch, tucking your chin into your knees. The TV in front of you was off, and you had no intention to turn it on. For now, it was okay to mull in the quiet.

You mumbled into your knees, “What do you think he's up to in Seattle?" 

CATCHING BAD GUYS. KICKING BUTT. EATING SEATTLE FOOD. ZOOMING AROUND. ACTING PATHETIC WITHOUT US THERE.

“V, you and I don’t know anything about investigative journalism,” you put in gently.

Venom was, of course, offended.

I KNOW A LOT ABOUT EATING BAD GUYS!

“Yeah, but Eddie won’t let you eat bad guys in Seattle any more than he does here.”

It was at that moment that Venom popped out from your shoulder blade, miniature head scowling.

HE SHOULD!

“Wanna go get a bite to eat?” you interjected, effectively ending the conversation. “I’ll even let you drive, if you want.”

Venom grinned much too wide for his intentions to be anything but nefarious, so you quickly added, “No eating people.”

You turned fast and pointed to the pizza box sign in the kitchen. “Eddie might not be here, but that rule’s definitely still active while you’re in my body, okay?”

Venom, for lack of a better word with his gaping mouth full of super-sized fangs, pouted.

YOU ARE NO FUN!

I just don’t want to be involved in any murder, you wanted to say, but slimy, black, glittering goo was already wrapping and contorting around your middle. Venom was enveloping you, taking over.

It was a bit of an unpleasant sensation as Venom’s monstrous gooey head locked into place over where yours used to be, and rows of impressive fangs unfolded in your suddenly super-sized mouth. It felt like somebody had cracked an egg over your head and the yolk was dripping down your body. You weren’t sure if you’d ever get used to it. You had no idea how Eddie put up with it.

For how quickly his annoyance started, Venom seemed to get over it pretty quickly. He grinned and licked his lips.

I WOULD LIKE TO GO TO MCDONALDS.

//////

The room was shrouded in the quiet stillness of the night. The dim glow of a bedside lamp cast a warm pool of light on the walls, creating a cozy haven within the four corners of Eddie’s bedroom. You were in bed. Venom, for the first time that day, was quiet.

Under the soft blanket, your eyelids were growing heavy with the weight of the day's endeavours. You still missed Eddie, a lot, so much that your nightly FaceTime call almost wasn’t enough. Seeing his face on your laptop screen was just a further reminder of how far two states away felt, and how binded you felt to him since you met him — he pulled at you without even realizing it, like you’d been sewn together with invisible thread.

Hopefully he wouldn’t be in Seattle for too much longer.

The rhythmic ticking of the clock on the wall seemed to synchronize with the slowing pace of your breath. As the minutes ticked away, you found yourself on the threshold of the dream world, caught between wakefulness and the gentle pull of slumber. Not even the distant murmur of passing cars was enough to distract you now.

Closing your eyes, you surrendered to the sensation of falling asleep, gently gliding down into the abyss of dreams. Eddie’s bedroom, once familiar and defined, now blurred at the edges, transforming into a surreal landscape of colours and shapes.

As you drifted further into the realms of slumber, a sensation of weightlessness enveloped you. It was as if you were floating on a sea of tranquility, carried away by the ebb and flow of your own breath. The boundaries between reality and imagination began to dissolve, and the world outside melted.

//////

Sometime between now and then, you’d ended up bent over in Eddie’s lap, on a couch that felt just like his couch, but was ambiguous enough that it could’ve been anywhere. Things were slightly blurry around the edges, surreal enough to have you breathless, but real enough that you weren’t questioning your surroundings.

“Holy shit,” Eddie breathed as he tilted his head, carefully examining the swelling ass on his lap. Your pussy was dripping, there was a dribble of arousal forming, but in all honesty, he was a little scared to touch you, he didn’t want to hurt you. “I don’t think I’m getting a finger in there, girl. Wow.”

“Luckily, I’m not that fragile,” you responded playfully as you arched your back for him. Eddie bit his lip as this only accentuated the curve of your ass.

“God,” he whispered as he ran a hand up your thigh: he was able to break them apart easily, and he pulled one leg over his lap, wedging you firmly between his legs.

Even though you were already soaking wet, Eddie’s fingers ran over your dripping slit for a moment, as if he were admiring the way your pussy fluttered at his touch in front of him.

God, you could just feel how wet you were, and you bit your lip, anticipating for Eddie to lean forward, and—

Y/N!!!

In an instant you’d jumped awake: you’d sprang to attention without really realizing how you’d done it, scrambling for the lamp. “What’s going on?”

Venom was protruding from your shoulderblade again, bouncing even more than normal, very clearly in extreme distress.

SWEET GIRL. WE ARE RECEIVING VISIONS.

You stifled your yawn with your hand. “V, do you mean, like - like a dream?”

WE ARE RECEIVING VISIONS! RECEIVING VISIONS OF EDDIE EATING YOU! THIS IS VERY SERIOUS! WE NEED TO KEEP YOU SAFE!

Your cheeks instantly warmed, and you froze, scrambling for something to say. “Oh - oh, shit, Venom - that - I’m so sorry, but I really don’t think that was what you think it was.”

HE WAS STRIKING YOU! Venom snapped.

Oh my god. He really saw all of that.

You reached for the water bottle on your nightstand. “V, you seriously don’t need to worry about this. It wasn’t real. It was a dream. Nothing bad will come from it."

Venom was, of course, still hysterical.

IT WAS A PROPHECY! THIS IS BAD!

I wouldn’t mind if it was a prophecy, you thought selfishly before you could stop yourself, but you shoved it down. “Everything’s alright, Venom. Okay? Everything's fine. Let’s just go back to bed.”

I WILL NOT APOLOGIZE FOR CARING ABOUT YOU, Y/N.

You were already sliding back under the blanket. “I’m not asking you to, V. I appreciate it.”

You hesitated.

“Just, uh, next time you’re bonded to Eddie, please don’t tell him about this, okay? It could make him - I don't know, uncomfortable. You know, I - I don’t know how he’d react to the prophecy of him supposedly hurting me, that’s all. I don’t want to worry him.”

(You were hoping wildly that he would accept, and you and Venom would never talk about this again.)

In a move you’d never seen before, Venom raised one gloopy, black tentacle towards you, and recognizing the movement, you extended your pinky towards him. Your pinky and the black goo linked together for a moment, signifying your trust.

Venom grinned, now bouncing significantly less.

I NEVER BREAK A PINKY PROMISE, SWEET GIRL.

You raised your eyebrow.

I TRY NOT TO.

You were much too tired for any of this, you simply turned over to switch off the lamp and finally return to whatever remnants of that dream was left. “Okay then. Goodnight, V.”

//////

It was satisfying to have everything fall back into the natural order once Eddie returned home from Seattle. You returned to your own apartment on the opposite side of town, but of course visited frequently, and Eddie was grateful to be back in a low-stakes environment once more, with a snarky symbiote that would terrify anyone who would try to harm him. Seattle had been thrilling, and he'd recounted the adventure to you several times, but now he was back to something familiar.

The job was done. He was covered for the time being. Freelancing was difficult, but for now, everything would be okay.

In the intervening time, Venom talked about you, a lot. Ever since he met you, he’d taken to mentioning you. But ever since you’d agreed to split custody of the symbiote, and especially since Eddie had disappeared for Seattle, he was talking about you even more.

I AM WORRIED ABOUT Y/N, he said one day.

Eddie was idly clicking through TV channels, watching everything from the news to a police drama to a basketball game zoom past, finding none of them interesting. “Why?”

I DO NOT WANT ANY BAD OMENS TO BE FOLLOWING HER. WE NEED TO KEEP HER SAFE.

“What makes you say that?” he asked, a bit confused.

Venom suddenly popped out of his shoulder, howling.

SHE - SHE HAS -

Before Venom could get any actual words out, Eddie was lifted from the couch as the symbiote rose and slammed his head into the ceiling, denting it severely and sending bits of drywall raining down from the heavens like it was a form of self-punishment.

As quickly as it started, Eddie had been dropped on the couch, red in the face and gasping for air.

Venom hardly noticed: he seemed to be in extreme distress.

I WAS NOT SUPPOSED TO TELL!

Eddie put a hand to his throat, still sweaty and gasping, forcing an inhale. “V - what?”

Venom was beside himself, now.

Y/N IS RECEIVING VISIONS! VISIONS OF YOU!

"Visions? What do you mean, visions of me?" Eddie asked, his concern deepening. Suddenly, he wasn’t feeling half-strangled anymore. His mind was racing, his thoughts a jumble of confusion and worry. "What kind of visions? Is she in danger?" 

He couldn't fathom what could be causing you to have distressing dreams about him.

Right after Seattle? Right after he thought the work was finished?

I DO NOT KNOW. BUT WE MUST PROTECT HER.

Without waiting for further response, Venom oozed off Eddie's shoulder and began slithering around the room, agitated.

Eddie remained on the couch, trying to process this information. "If something's going on, then we need to talk to her, right? Figure out what's happening."

I AGREE. SHE IS PART OF US, AND WE WILL NOT LET ANY HARM BEFALL HER.

He paused, awkwardly.

BUT PLEASE LET HER KNOW I AM SORRY. I WAS NOT SUPPOSED TO SHARE THIS WITH YOU, EDDIE. SHE SAYS SHE DOES NOT WANT TO WORRY YOU. SHE DOES NOT SHARE THE SAME CONCERN I HAVE.

It didn’t matter: Eddie was already grabbing his phone and dialling your number, fingers tapping nervously against his screen.

After a few tense rings, you picked up.

“Hey, Eddie!”

"Hey, we need to talk," Eddie said urgently, glancing at Venom, who was now wrapping himself around the coffee table, sticky and pulsating, in deep despair.

Concern filled your voice. "Is everything okay?"

“Oh, I mean, yeah, right now it is,” he responded wildly, vaguely aiming for nonchalant. “I was just talking to V, you know, and he said something, and - I just kinda wanted to call, y’know, see if you were alright-”

“Oh, I'm fine,” you confirmed, but you still sounded confused. “I don’t have anything going on today, so I’m just spending some time to myself. What did V tell you?”

Across from Eddie, Venom moaned in despair, a mere gooey black glob of depression on his sitting room floor.

SWEET GIRL, I AM SORRY!

“He said you were getting some disturbing visions, and not gonna lie, it kinda freaked me out a bit,” Eddie said sheepishly, hoping you hadn’t heard that. “I just wanted to call and see if you were okay, that’s all. I know this is random. Sorry. Just, with the nature of the last case, y’know, up in Seattle-”

It didn’t take long before he realized he was rambling again about the Seattle case, so he stopped. “Sorry.”

"No, it's okay."

There was a pause on the other end of the line, then a sigh.

Of course this was happening.

“Eddie, there’s been a misunderstanding,” you said. “Just, look - do you mind coming over? I’ll explain everything to you once you’re here. This might be better in person.”

Eddie was on his feet in an instant. “Sure, yeah.”

//////

Eddie rushed through the city streets, a mixture of worry and curiosity gnawing at him. Venom was bonded to him again, because he’d rather not think about the consequences of a depressed Venom lingering around the apartment while he was out, and the symbiote seemed to writhe within him with impatience. Or maybe that was just the motorbike rumbling underneath him. Whichever it was, he felt nauseous.

The symbiote had a tendency to jump to conclusions, but Eddie definitely couldn't shake the unease that settled in his gut.

Upon arriving at your apartment, Eddie knocked hastily.

To his surprise, you opened the door with a small smile.

"Hey," you greeted, ushering him inside. "Thanks for coming over."

Eddie nodded, glancing around your living room as if expecting something unusual. Venom, still on edge, clung within him like a sentient black backpack.

He didn’t want to come off as too eager, or too worried, so he just shoved his hands in the pockets of his leather jacket and hoped he looked casual despite the storm of questions brewing inside of him.

“So - what’s the deal?”

Deep inside of him, Venom was quivering with fright. As his gooey molecular form had to be closely intertwined with several of his most important organs right now, it was very hard not to notice the sensation.

You winced. “He’s just freaking out about nothing. There’s no bad omens or visions. I just had a dream, and you were in it. Simple stuff. Nothing to worry about.”

“It wasn’t a bad dream?” Eddie said, cautious.

You were definitely closer, now. “Actually, I’d say it was a pretty damn good dream.”

Eddie’s breath was caught in his throat. Out of everything that could’ve happened tonight, he definitely hadn’t been expecting…this.

He was a little confused, honestly. What was going on? The hairs on the back of his neck were raised, but he didn't feel as though he was in danger. On the contrary, he felt quite warm.

“Let me show you?” you offered.

"Okay," he bit out before he was conscious of making the decision, and you were stepping in front of him, and realizing, he closed his eyes on instinct--

The kiss that followed was absolutely dizzying.

There was something so particularly desperate about this: you were kissing, gasping against his mouth and pulling at his jacket, which made the two of you blindly scramble backwards into the apartment, messy and needy. The kiss quickly turned into a battle of control, with Eddie being the one to guide you forward, his hands on your hips. You bit his bottom lip in response, forcing him to open up and then the kiss was all about tongues, wet and sensitive.

You were on the couch when you finally broke apart, gasping.

"Baby," Eddie wheezed, his eyes darting across your face in disbelief, "I - what was that?"

"Is V with you?" you asked, instead of answering the question.

He was apprehensive now. "Yeah?"

"He needs to know I'm not in danger," you whispered, and you leaned forward to kiss him again.

It was much too chaste, and after you pulled away, Eddie was in mute astonishment for a moment.

His voice was scratchy when he spoke. "Disturbing visions, huh?"

You just smiled. "In my dream, we were on a couch, like this."

Eddie still couldn't believe this was happening. The anxiety in his gut on the way over had been completely forgotten now, blurring out of his memory, the future was an impossible thing, there was just this. This was all he had; this was all he wanted. "Were we, now?"

He didn't know what to do, but that didn't seem to matter, you were leading.

You nodded. "It was kinda hot."

"Kinda?" Eddie repeated dumbly, breathless. His voice sounded like a stranger's.

Before he could embarrass himself, Venom's voice rumbled within him, frustrated.

EDDIE, STOP BEING A PUSSY!

Wondering vaguely if this had been a trap all along, Eddie grabbed the nape of your neck and pulled you in for a kiss. Your mouths roved together, and he took the opportunity to pull you over, closer to him. The curve of your bare spine was warm from under your sweater. He kept his hand there, roaming carelessly, drifting up to the clasp of your bra.

You seemed to get what he was going for, and then suddenly you were straddling him, and with you on top of him, he could no longer ignore how interested his dick was in the proceedings.

Slightly, just slightly, you rolled your hips against his clothed crotch, and Eddie choked out a moan.

Oh, fuck. He could feel the sweat materializing and running down his back. This was better than good.

(Venom was definitely going to tease him about this later.)

"What happened next?" Eddie mumbled, looking up at you, his eyes blown black.

You smiled, then crossed your arms and peeled off your sweater. Eddie shifted his grip, holding you by the hips again, and you tossed your sweater elsewhere.

Venom was going absolutely insane from inside him: it felt like he was rumbling somewhere around his large intestine.

DO NOT MESS THIS UP, EDDIE!

Meanwhile, you were, of course, oblivious to the commentary in Eddie's mind.

"I mean," you said, and your voice wasn't smoky like it had been before. It was just curious, with a note of teasing, like this was an everyday conversation. "You ate me out."

He pressed a light kiss to your throat. "Then flip over, baby."

Inside his head, Venom seemed to be having some kind of meltdown. Maybe he had just realized what the dream was. Maybe he was jealous. Either way, he was rambling in Eddie's mind.

SWEET GIRL - SO FRAGILE - SO SWEET - SO DELICIOUS - I NEED TO TASTE -

[laiiaaa]

THANK YOU VERY MUCH — CARMEN BERZATTO

summary You pay Carmen a visit after a busy night to give your thanks...with a little extra love.

length 3.1k

contents MINORS DNI, smut, lots of kissing, some heavy petting, oral sex (m!receiving), semi-public sex sorry Richie, soooooo much praise, teasing, a glimpse of subby Carm make brain go brrrrrr, fluffy ending bc he’s a cutie pie, imma be fr...he splooges in your mouth…in his office…after hours…don’t look at me ik it’s FILTHY!!!…apologies to the church it’s not my fault he’s a SLUT

Carmen’s sitting hunched over his desk in a mess of paperwork when Richie barges in.

“Your girl’s here,” he almost sighs, holding the door open as you walk in, all smiles and a Thanks, Richie slipping past your lips before he nods, shooting Carmen a look emphasized with a pointed finger: “No funny business back here, alright? ‘Cause I’ll fuckin’ know.”

When he walks away, you shut the door and lock it. Stupid fuckin’ lock, Carmen thinks, knowing that it’s mostly for show. He can’t remember the last time it actually worked. But he smiles back at you, turning his chair around when you peek over your shoulder after the fact anyway, his skin tingling with anticipation of feeling you in his arms again.

You carefully drop your bag on the floor and leave your jacket on the desk as you walk over to him, standing between his spread legs as he sits up. Your fingers tangle in his hair, voice syrupy sweet when his hands wrap around your thighs just below the hem of your skirt. “Hi, Bear.”

He looks up at you with his chin resting below your navel. An after hours haze comes over him, muscles sore and eyes heavy, and he swears you’re the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen. “Hey, baby,” he drawls, letting you play with his hair a moment longer before bringing one hand to gently lift your top just a few inches, pressing gentle kisses to the exposed skin, trailing right to your waistband to leave heated butterflies frenzied in your stomach. “Missed you a lot today…”

“Yeah?” You tug at his strands to get his attention again and lower yourself to straddle his hips. “Stressful day?”

His palms slide from your waist to your hips, pawing at your ass while he presses kisses to your jaw. “Yeah, just busy…‘n T was in a mood, so…” He trails off, too occupied with soaking in your perfume, your heavy breaths when he drags his teeth against your pulse.

“Carm?” you start, massaging his shoulders and moving to squeeze at his biceps—fuck, his arms, you just wanna…mm. You pry a groan from his throat and it only makes you want him more. “Lemme help you unwind, hm?…” 

One hand urges him to lift his gaze before you take his lips in a kiss, his hands making their way beneath the fabric of your shirt to feel skin to skin. It’s sweet, and it’s sultry, the way you kiss him, like you want him to unravel between your fingertips as you thumb at the knots in his shoulders. He’s not so sure he’d mind, what with the way you’re already turning his brain to mush with just a few cants of your hips against his. 

“Baby,” he breathes, “You don’t—you don’t have to…”

“I want to, though…” You’re nearly whining into his mouth. “You do so much for me, Carmy…”

“I, uh—” he laughs sheepishly, neck and face flushed and breath turning shallow— “I dunno ‘bout that—”

“C’mon, Bear—” you quiet your voice, leaning down close by his ear while a hand cups the opposite side of his face— “You cook for me all the time…” His fingers tease at the hem of your top again, and you peck his jaw. “You never let me lift a finger, and you always hold me…”

He sighs when your nails scratch at the tuft of hair behind his ear, head lolling into the back of the chair, eyes shut as his hands wander up your shirt dangerously close to your breasts. 

“And you make me feel so—” you drag your teeth along the shell of his ear, and put more weight against his hips, and he’s barely keeping himself calm— “so good—”

“Shhhhit—” he squeezes you tight to keep you from grinding against him again— “Richie’s just outside, baby, gotta be careful…”

“I don’t care…” Putting him in a trance, you carefully remove your top and let it fall to the floor, a pleased breath escaping when he grabs at you. “I’ve been missing you all day, y’know?”

“Yeah?” His chest is already heaving in anticipation, and it’s like he’s a virgin, cock half hard and throbbing just at the sight of bare skin he craves to kiss. “Me too, baby…”

You snake a hand down his stomach to palm him through his jeans while smiling like a minx. “And I miss your cock, Carmy—”

“Shhhhit—” he plants his hand on your mouth, and it’s painfully hard to ignore how he just twitched in his jeans— “The fuck’re you doin’?” 

You pout when he hesitantly uncovers your mouth. Feeling up his arms again, biting at your lip, you sigh. “Just showin’ my appreciation…”

He huffs, runs a hand through his hair with his eyes closed. “O-Okay, fuck…” 

How is he supposed to say no when you’re sat all pretty and topless in his lap? That wouldn’t be fair, now, would it? 

“Fuck, okay—” he looks you in the eye, brows furrowed and desperate for you like you always know he is— “We gotta be quiet, though, baby, alright?” A sweet kiss, slow and with his hands holding your face. “Gotta be quiet.”

You giggle into one last smooch. “Fine by me.” You shrug and shuffle out of his lap, sat on your heels in front of spread knees, mouth watering and eyes blown with lust as you brush your hands along his thighs.

He watches you carefully as you undress him: unbuttoning his jeans, opening his fly, looking up at him all sweet when you need him to lift his hips. By the time the denim pools around his ankles his cock is weeping pre and soaking through his briefs. 

“Oh, Carm,” you coo, kissing up and along his inner thighs past a tattoo of your name, leaving him reeling, “Why didn’t you tell me you’re so worked up?” You trail your fingers beneath the hem while lending hot kisses over the fabric, and he groans a little too loud for someone who was just worried about being caught. “I would’ve helped you.”

“F-Fuck you,” he laughs, leaning back into the chair with an arm cast over his forehead to try and calm himself the best he can when you’re breathing on his cock and peeling sticky briefs down his legs.

His dick is throbbing by the time you free it, threatening to stain his white tee, and you’re practically drooling into his lap as you wrap your hand around the base of it. It’s thick, it has your thighs pressing together and tongue going slick, and you can hardly connect your middle finger and thumb.

A breath hisses through his teeth and you hum to yourself. “Mmmm, you’re so big, Carmy.” But you notice he’s not looking at you, and you pause. “C’mon, you gotta watch.”

He squeezes his eyes shut and sighs. 

“If you want me to suck it—” wet, slobbery kisses trail from his base up toward his cherry red tip as you pump him slowww, spreading pre down his shaft— “You could at least open your eyes a little, hm?”

And oh, what a sight he is when he obliges: cheeks flushed, brows drawn tight together, golden brown curls made a mess, bottom lip barred behind teeth, preening over the look of your lips glossy with spit. He thinks he could come in record time. 

You smile up at him sweetly. “There he is…” And before he can blink you’re taking him into your mouth, down far enough to touch your lips to your hand, down far enough to have him groaning. 

“Holy shit, baby—” he moans, a sound that makes you dizzy, “Oh, fuck…” His head lolls back again, exposing a bobbing Adam’s apple as he gulps down a breath, a hand of his brushing low and past dark thick curls before squeezing the fabric of his tee and revealing his happy trail. 

You pull your mouth up on his cock and swirl your tongue around his tip to hear him whimper—whimper, all drawn out and whiny like he can’t get enough—before you let go completely, holding him by the base and watching a trail of spit and pre connect his slit to your tongue. 

“Jesus fuck—…” He bites into his fist, a pained look on his face but with lust-blown eyes. What’d he do to deserve you? “So fuckin’ sexy, baby…”

You smile and kiss his tip. “ ‘Cause I love having you in my mouth…”

A heady breath accompanies another rush of blood beneath your hands. “Yeah?”

“Mmmmm ‘f course, Carmy…” You drag your lips back down to his base and flatten your tongue to lick a stripe to the top, prodding his tip past your plush lips before smooching it again. “You have the prettiest cock…” You gather a glob of spit and Carmen can’t peel his eyes off of it as it drips…down from your glossy lips…down onto the beating head…before the words “Thank you for letting me suck it…” fall breathlessly off your tongue.

That makes his hips buck up and a moan slip past stifled by a hand over his mouth. “Fuck, baby, you’re gonna make me come—”

You squeeze the soaked base of him, taunting with a feigned frown. “But I just got started…”

“Y-Yeah,” he heaves, “That’s the problem…”

You pump his cock slow with a tight fist how he likes it, grinning as your free hand snakes up his thigh; his breath hitches, and he starts to think he’s dreaming when you grab for the hand by his navel and bring it atop your head. He smooths it over your hair a few times as he releases choppy breaths, makes a face to ask Are you sure? He doesn’t expect you to hum against his tip, sending a vibration down his cock to make him choke on nothing before you murmur, “Do whatever you want…” kissing and licking along his shaft as your hand twists around his tip, “Wanna make you feel good…”

“You are, baby…” He tugs gently on your hair and guides your mouth back to where he needs you. “Like a—” you wrap your lips around him again, and even with his hands in your hair his head rears back— “Fuck, yeah, just like that—like a fuckin’ angel—”

It’s filthy, and it’s messy and wet and dirty, the way you let him fuck into your mouth, his feet planted on the ground and pushing the back of the chair against the desk, your hands pressing into the sinew of his thighs to keep steady. “God, you’re so fuckin’ good—so fuckin’ good for me, baby—”

And you’re practically dripping in your panties, doing as best you can to relieve some of that pulse between your thighs by grinding your cunt into your heels, too caught up in Carmen’s moans to think too much about the fact you’re in his office choking on his dick because it feels so good, and he looks beautifully euphoric, eyes squeezing shut every few seconds, neck flushed crimson above a gasping chest. 

You hollow your cheeks around him and he thrusts only halfway, the added suction too much to take all the way down to your throat. “Shhhit, suckin’ me so nice—so fuckin’ gorgeous—makin’ me wanna—” but you push away from his dick, drool-smeared lips curling into a smile. He wets his lips as his chest rises and falls at the loss of release. He thinks you’re the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen like this, all messy and covered in spit and pre with tears marring the makeup around your eyes. “Fuck me,” he groans, exasperated as he leans back into the chair and brings his hands up to his forehead. 

You sit up a bit and put more weight into your knees. You keep one hand languidly stroking his cock while the other grips his tee and pulls him forward, crashing into your lips so he can taste himself. His hands quickly take up your jaw, holding you firm against his lips to let him dip his tongue into your mouth and deepen the kiss. Your neck is craned, and his back is hunched over, but with the way you keep your hand away from his throbbing tip has him groaning for more. 

“You gotta be quiet, Carm,” you murmur before he just kisses you again anyway. 

“Can’t—” you squeeze his dick when you near his head at that— “hah, fuck—can’t be quiet when your mouth ‘s on me like that—”

You push against his sternum to send him leaning back into the chair, and his head starts spinning with want. “Figure it out then—” another kiss to his weeping cock, just as sexy as the last ten times as you thumb at his slit— “or I’m not gonna fuck you when we get home.”

“Shit,” he hisses to himself, lifting his hips to move them closer to your mouth. He likes this side of you, knowing what you want and a little demanding, a smirk poking at the corners of your mouth when you command things of him you’ll make sure he can’t fulfill. Maybe he should fuck you in the office more often. 

He doesn’t get to ponder it too long, though, because you’ve already taken him into your mouth again, both hands now gripping at the base while your tongue laps at his slit like you’re begging for him to spill into your mouth. His knuckles turn white as he grips the arm rests of the chair, and he bites down hard into his bottom lip to stifle a moan loud enough to be heard all the way at the front door. 

“I needa come, baby—” you leave your hands on his thighs as you take him all the way in, his tip prodding at the back of your throat— “Fuck—!” He thrusts up into your mouth and realizes too late how fucking loud he is—how loud all of it is, what with you gagging and moaning as you try to get some sense of release while milking his dick for all he’s worth, the sighs of pleasure that slip off his tongue no matter how hard he tries, the wet sounds from your mouth every time he bucks his hips out of the chair. 

“Fuckfuckfuckfuckfuck,” he groans, a hand coming to the top of your head again to slow you so as not to let him finish too quick. “Baby—ah, fuckmmmmfuck baby, please—” He feels it churning in his gut all the way to his cock: that band stretching and stretching and threatening to snap, growing tighter and tighter every time your lips smooth over his head and your tongue laps at the frenulum. “Baby lemme—shit, lemme come down your throat please, baby—”

As soon as he begs it of you you’re moaning an affirmation, locking eyes with him for a split second before they shut again with ecstasy. He snaps with a stuttered thrust into your mouth, palms pressed hard into the arm rests as he chokes out your name as hushed as he can manage. “Fuck, pretty—” his release, bitter and salty, shoots into your mouth with a groan so guttural you feel it in your cunt.

The shift of his hips slows from a thrust to a meager cant, overstimulation crawling up his spine as you continue milking him. “Shit,” he huffs, arms going limp and jaw going slack. “Slow down, baby…needa—needa calm down…f-fffuck…” He watches as you slowly drag your lips up to the tip of his cock to clean him of his cum, another groan easing by at the sight. “Jesus fuckin’ Christ, baby—” You’re giggling and pressing soft kisses to his thighs, and all he can do is tilt his head back and shut his eyes to try and recover. 

You wait less than a minute before you’re hounding on him again, thrumming with success and the thought of him fucking you when he brings you home. “How was it?” You ask the question sheepishly, smiling up at him and wiping spit from your lips like you don’t know how much you’ve just wrecked him.

He wills himself to sit back up again. “How was it?” He smiles back, heart warm. “Baby—” he cups your face all sweet how he is after sex, muscles pliant and brain dizzy with aftershocks of pleasure— “You’re fuckin’ incredible, y’know that right?”

You shrug despite your daze. “Obviously. You came in my mouth like a virgin.”

“Shut up,” he sighs, lips perking up into a reluctant smile. His thumbs brush along your cheekbones with adoration. “Your fault for bein’ so sexy.”

A precious kiss to your forehead, one that has your eyes slipping closed before his nose nudges past yours and he seizes your mouth in a searing kiss, one that’s built on passion and lust and appreciation and awe. Your palms sit beneath his elbows and he smiles into it, flushing when he tastes himself on your tongue but kissing you that much deeper when he does. 

There’s one last sweet peck before he says, “You’re perfect. Thank you.” Another between your brows and to each cheek before he grabs your shirt, crumpled beside the chair, and hands it to you. He lets you dress yourself while he fits his half-hard dick back into his briefs and stands to pull his jeans over his hips, wiping tacky hands down on the denim. It’ll do. 

He helps you get back up and ease your sore knees back into working condition before the door knob rattles. Both of you freeze. 

“Cousin!” A hand bangs hard on the door.

You and Carmen lock eyes. “Shit,” he hisses, looking down and fumbling with his fly. You panic only half-heartedly, the other half laughing at Carmen’s struggle. 

“Cousin!” Richie calls again, shaking the door, “You fuckers better not’ve been doin’ what—” 

Just like Carmen should’ve seen coming, the lock stops working and the door swings open as he’s buttoning his pants. 

Richie catches him and his expression drops. “Oh, you son ‘f a—” he seems to catch your smudged mascara and lip gloss— “Oh, God—” He grimaces and steps away from the doorway with his hands on his head. “In the fuckin’ office, Cousin? Are you kiddin’ me?”

Carmen figures you don’t care enough to bother with the complaints, because you’re shooting him a smile and tugging on his arm to lead him right past Richie. And he’s more than happy to follow behind, a stupidly lovedrunk smile on his face. What he’s got in mind for you when you get home—perhaps a polite thank you of his own—will be worth the headache tomorrow morning.

[princessbrunette]

dbf!rafe thought he was doing a pretty good job at pretending he didn’t care too much about you. but it was coming to the late afternoon, and he’d driven past you wandering around town on your own wearing one of those stupid little mini skirts you’re crazy about and he had to do his duty and command you come with him. for your safety of course. he’d hate if some sick older guy got his hands on you.

“get in. c’mon.” he’s already acting irritable with you and it only spurs you on to act mischievous.

“why so glum, hm?” you pout, letting a small giggle slip through as you fasten your belt — the friend of your fathers glancing around the area briefly to see if anyone had seen his bosses daughter climb into his car before zipping off.

“what’d i tell you last time i saw you just— just walking around asking for trouble?” he berates and he’s not even sure why he’s so wound up. you just got him so pent up and touchy that he always found himself being this way with you.

“asking for trouble? mr cameron i was just hanging out.” you laugh, stretching your legs and going to rest your feet on his dashboard. he shoves your legs off, sending you a scalding glare.

“in that little skirt? yeah i wasn’t born yesterday, alright— you were probably off meeting guys.” he grumbles and you turn your head to him, heart fluttering at the jealous tone he had failed to conceal.

“oh no, not hanging out with guys my own age… that would be the most awful thing in the world, right?” you sark, and he resents the way he can hear the pretty smile in your voice without even turning his attention away from the road. he huffs out a scoff, shaking his head as he pulls up to the traffic light.

“told your old man i’d look out for you, right so — so i am just telling you that you shouldn’t be wandering around meeting guys dressed like a hooker. i know how guys brains work, okay — i am a guy. s’why i’m taking your ass home where you can’t get into any of that shit.” he rants, and before you can complain about him calling you a hooker your attention is caught by his promise to bring you home and you shoot up in your seat.

“no, please. just— anywhere else. not home.” you suddenly sound serious, and he nearly misses the stoplight turning green to glance at you in confusion.

“and why the hell not?” he drawls and suddenly you’re a lot more quiet. he raises his eyebrows waiting for a response.

“i’m fighting with my parents. i just… i don’t want to see them yet.” you sigh, staring at your manicure in your lap. as much as he wanted to teach you a lesson and drag you back into the house to your father, he knew what it was like to have a rocky relationship with his parents. because of this he sighs after his slight hesitation and turns in the direction away from your house.

“ah… shit, alright fine. the fuck do you wanna go then? gotta drop you somewhere, alright?” he relents and you beam.

“really? thanks mr cameron.” your elated expression calms itself into a pur as you lean across the gear stick and press a kiss to his cheek. he clenches his jaw.

“watch it.”

to this you respond with a giggle and he relaxes a little, knowing he had a little more time with you.

“where do you wanna go then? haven’t got all day, kid m’not a fuckin’ taxi.”

“hmm, your place?” you’re quick with your answer, almost like you had it planned. he’d given in a few times, let you have your way with him even though he knew it put his career on the line — and he told himself and you that this could go on no longer.

he huffs out a laugh, scratching at his cheek and shaking his head, choosing to ignore the suggestion. your bottom lip curls over at this, frowning a little.

“raaafe.” you whine and he resists an eye roll.

“what you’re — you’re serious about that shit?”

“mhm… i missed you…” you coo, and he feels your warm body lean across the centre console again, a clawed hand finding his thigh as you speak into his ear. “c’mon dad.” you groan and he feels a hot rush of blood fly through him at the nickname. god you were sick.

“don’t fuckin’ call me that.” he turns into his driveway at tannyhill, parking up infront of the house haphazardly before turning off the car and not making any move to get out.

“just wanna play a little bit.” you complain, kissing down his white shirt leaving lipgloss prints that he’d soon complain about down the expensive material as he watches you with parted lips, feeling your hot breath fan over his hardening crotch.

“well if you’re gonna suck me off just fuckin’ do it alright. don’t wanna hear that shrill ass little voice unless you’re tellin’ me how good that shit tastes. c’mon.”

you couldn’t help but obey.

[verstappen-cult]

Max and Charles taking care of you during a night out, when you’ve drink a little too much.

You look around, trying to find your boys but they are nowhere to be seen, which leaves you wandering around until you find two of their friends, Daniel and Carlos, sitting on a couch talking.

“Hey, boys!” You say, happily, flopping down onto the couch right in the middle of them. You’ve interrupted their conversation but you don’t notice. They exchange looks, which you don’t notice either, and Carlos is up in a second, excusing himself.

“Hey, stranger.” Daniel says, moving closer. “‘What are you drinking?” He tries to take a look at your cup, but you take it to your lips.

"You wanna try it?" You ask him, words slurred.

"Yeah, let me just—" He goes to take the cup from your hands at the same time that you bring it closer to him, causing it to fall on Daniel's lap. "Shit!"

"I'm so sorry, Dani!" You look for something to clean the big stain on Daniel's blue jeans and, with you fuzzy brain, you decide that the only thing that could do the work is your dress. So, you take the hem of your dress, moving even closer to Dani – almost on his lap – not caring about your dress getting dirty.

“It’s okay.” He laughs. If he’s pissed he doesn’t show it, that’s how it always is with Dani. “Y/N, it’s okay!” Daniel tries to move away but you are decided to clean the spilled drink, even if it’s impossible by now.

“What’s happening?” Max’s voice cuts through the air. You lift your head up, eyes glazed over.

“I spilled my drink,” You sniff, looking between your boyfriend and the stain on the boy’s leg. “but Dani won’t let me help him.”

“I don’t think there’s anything you can do, princess.” Charles sits by your side, hands immediately pulling your dress down. “Dani will take care of it, yes?”

Daniel nods. “It’s nothing, really. I have like a dozen of these same jeans.” His big, warm smile makes you feel better. Just a little, you still feel like a fool. “I’ll borrow something from Carlos.” He winks at you before standing up and getting lost.

Max sighs, crossing his arms and staring you down.

“What did we say about mixing different drinks?”

“I was just having fun with Lando.” You pout, looking at your stained dress.

Charles grins and presses a kiss to the corner of your mouth. “What did you drink?”

“Just a few shots of tequila.” You shrug, snuggling closer to Charles. “Oh, did you know he makes this delicious vodka with cranberry juice?”

Max sighs, shaking his head in disapproval. “What else?”

“Your favorite drink.” You look at him beneath your eyelashes.

“Don’t look at me like that.” Max frowns and closes his mouth. “We talked about this.”

“Relax, Max.” Charles chimes in, working his arm around your waist. “She learned her lesson, right?”

You nod enthusiastically, which is a bad idea because it makes you feel dizzy. Max is immediately moving closer, kneeling in front of you.

“Easy there, baby. We don’t want you throwing up in the middle of the living room.” Max strokes your hair and you can’t help but lean into his touch, relaxed.

“Should we go home?” Charles asks him.

“But I don’t wanna go!” You know you always – well, most of the time – get what you want if you pout, so, that’s exactly what you do.

“What? You wanna go back to drink with Lando?”

“Well, no, but I don’t wanna ruin your night.”

“Oh, baby, you’re not ruining our night. We’d rather be with you at home.” Charles kisses your cheek and you giggle, feeling warm.

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah, let’s get you home, pretty girl.”

Max helps you stand up, his arm around your waist to help you walk. Not that you need it, you’re just a little tipsy. But you like it when they act all protective over you. Charles makes sure to let their friends know they are leaving before joining you and Max outside.

You lean against the car, pouting for what feels like the hundredth time in the night. “Can we go to McDonald’s?”

[macfrog]

the sweetest con cowboy like me chapter fifteen

well. this is it. we made it, kids. thank you so, so much for reading for all this time. for all your patience, and kindness, and loyalty. i will carry this pair, their story, and all of your love for them with me forever. love you guys. xx

pairing: dbf!joel miller x fem!reader

summary: every cowboy deserves his ride off into the sunset.

warnings: age gap (reader is 23, joel is 48), lotsa guilt from reader, dreamy love sequence & mention of unprotected piv/creampie, more greys anatomy spoilers, reader's dad is either Bald or has a Receding Hairline (you choose), more sex - this time reader and joel sixty-nine, face sitting, oral (f and m receiving), more (inferred) unprotected piv, making dirty, hot love ALLAT, cursing, a little smut n a lotta fluff n a droplet of angst at the end

word count: 10.8k

series masterlist | main masterlist | playlist | follow @macfroglets w notifs on to be the first to hear when i post 🧡

“How the fuck did this take you three minutes? Three?”

“I’m telling you. I’m a genius.”

You snort. “Shut up. You only passed Math ‘cause you were fooling around with that nerd – Thomas? Was it Thomas?”

“Timothy. And you don’t need math to do a sudoku puzzle, loser. You just need brains. Logic.” Anna taps two fingers against her temple, tilting her head.

“Logic,” you murmur, shaking your head.

Sal’s is quiet today. He’s out of town for his father-in-law’s funeral and made the genius decision to leave the two of you in charge. Since opening at nine, you’ve had four customers. The to-do list left for you was completed by ten, and since then, you’ve been hunched over your phone at the cash register, messing around on some puzzle app Anna made you download.

It's a Wednesday. Nothing exciting ever happens on Wednesdays.

Anna’s behind you, tearing apart and flattening the cardboard boxes you spent all morning emptying. “That level,” she clicks her chewing gum wetly between her teeth, scent of mint over your shoulder, “that ain’t even the hardest one. Ooh, no, babe. Three goes –”

“Shh!” You bat her arm away, curving your hand over your phone screen. She snorts and wanders off through the back, wad of cardboard under her arm.

Anna wasn’t your closest friend in high school, and you sure didn’t stay much in touch past the odd Facebook post update when you left. But working with her, and her dad being your dad’s buddy – she’s sort of become one of those people you just can’t shake.

Like a stray puppy. Or…an annoying hangnail.

She’s nice enough – talks a lot of crap sometimes, but she cares for you. You’d go as far as saying you two have grown pretty close since you came home. Still, the acidic sting of resentment sits on your tongue, anytime you think of her involvement in the unravelling of your little lie. Think of your dad calling hers, Hank asking her where you were.

Think of the fact that, if she hadn’t been honest with him – I don’t know where she is, Dad – nothing would’ve gone wrong.

That’s not fair. If you’d never touched Joel in the first place, nothing would’ve gone wrong.

It’s just – she had a hand in pushing the first domino.

The bell above the door jingles and you lift your eyes from tiny numbers and blank squares to meet a familiar pair of hazel. An Alanis Morissette T-shirt under a denim jacket. She tucks her thick, soft hair behind her ears and smiles, then skips around the counter and links her hands at your tummy; her ear flat against the nape of your neck.

“Why so clingy?” you ask, and Sarah straightens up.

“Just excited to spend some time with my favorite person. That allowed?”

Your eyes scan her up and down as she leans against the counter, stealing a gummy from a jar beside the register. “Been staying with you for nearly three weeks now, you ain’t sick of me yet?”

She shakes her head, jaw chewing, cheeks swollen with a grin. “Are you done yet? I wanna make sure we get good seats.”

“We will,” you assure her. “It’s only, like, three p.m.”

“But it’s Barbie,” she says, “and I wanna get some snacks before we head in.” She holds the decapitated gummy worm up, eyebrows high, before pulling it between her teeth until it snaps. She drags the withered red tail over her tongue.

“That thing you just mauled,” you gesture to the masticated shape in her fingers, “candy. Snacks. Just take some of that.”

“You won’t even buy your date movie theater candy? Damn. Mom’s a cheapskate. Wish I could say my dad’s a lucky guy.”

You shove her off, disguising your laugh with a shake of your head. “You are on thin ice, I’m not even kidding.”

Sarah’s laughing, reaching for another worm. “You know what that sounds like?”

“Hm?”

“What you just said.”

“What’s it sound like, Sarah Miller?”

“Something a mom would say.”

“Alright,” you stand, “get out. Get outta my store.”

The door opens when you point to it, Texan heat sweeping in to swarm the one rickety fan you have in here. The brass bell trembles, and beneath it, a man in a tucked shirt and jeans, glum face and tired eyes.

You blink at him and he blinks back, and no words are spoken between you, but your dad understands to move, to keep walking – and you understand to let him.

“Shoot,” Sarah whispers, twisting her gummy around her finger. “That was awkward.”

Three weeks of staying with them – Sarah and Joel – also means three weeks of zero contact with your dad. The most you’ve heard from – or, rather, about him is that, last week, Joel bumped into Hank at the gas station, and the old man mentioned that he and your dad had grabbed a beer the night before.

What’d he say? you asked Joel, dragging a dish towel around the rim of a glass.

He shrugged, flicking his hands dry over the sink. Said the Rangers aren’t doin’ too good. I said, Yeah, that’s cause a’ –

No, Joel. What did he say about me ‘n my dad?

He waited a second to let the offense of your interruption soak in. Took the towel from your hand, replaced the glass on the draining board. Nothing, he said, I don’t think he knows.

It sat with you the entire night. The three of you watched a movie, occupying either side of Joel’s couch, though you’re sure you don’t remember a word of it. The image of him sat center-stage in your mind until you pulled yourself against Joel’s body in bed that night. Sat in his recliner, flicking through TV channels, the only sounds in the house that of Ice Road Truckers, the ticking of the kitchen clock, and his own fucking breathing.

Alone. Not even Hank to talk to about – well.

You’ve done your best not to think about him. And it works, most days, when you’re with Joel. Helps to go do stuff: ride shotgun while he picks up supplies for work or grabs groceries. Helps to play pretend like his house is yours, too. Tidying when he’s not home, lighting candles and sinking into a bubble bath for him to find you in when he finishes. Helps to be at Sal’s, with Anna. Sudoku and her fucking Tinder account to keep you both occupied.

Most days, you forget to consider the lonely shape of your dad at all – but that seems to hurt all the more. Like forgetting to tend to an open wound; instead, letting the infection blister and bubble so that, when you do bump it again, the pain feels sharper. Hissing at you, poison seeping from flesh.

His showing up, waltzing straight into the store – feels less like a bump, and more like a pair of hands diving straight into the gash, tearing it wide open again. Blood and poison gushing all over the checkered floor.

Anna materializes between two aisles, hands on her hips when she stands behind you. “Y’all still not really talkin’?” she asks.

You and Sarah shake your heads. The three of you watch the shape of your dad’s skull over the shelves, bobbing from bay to bay. Door hinges to fence paint. He painted the fence last summer. He doesn’t need fucking fence paint.

“Nope,” you reply. “’s been, what, two and a half weeks now?”

“Yeah,” Anna mutters, the slope of sympathy in her voice. “My dad’s been talkin’ to him about it. They’ve spoken, like, almost every night on the phone.”

“Oh, fuck,” you hiss, head falling into your hands. “Are you serious?”

“Not about you and Joel. Just about the fight.”

Your jaw slowly slackens, eyes thinning as your gaze slides over to your friend, a saddened expression on her face.

Sarah nods, like an accessory sat on the dash of a car. Bobbing bobbing bobbing, until her brows drop and she turns to you, finally realizing. “Wait, what?”

Anna blinks between the two of you. “What?” she asks, lips pressing together.

“You know?” Sarah asks, glaring at her.

Anna snorts. Neither of you break. She quickly quietens and clears her throat, bending to stuff more cardboard under her arm. “Well…” She sucks in a deep breath. “At rodeo night, when you left your phone on the table, me ‘n Kara wanted to leave a bunch of selfies for you to find later. But when I went to grab your phone, you had a text from him. Joel. Something about someone winning you over like he did, or something. I can’t remember. But that was the first thing.”

Sarah’s face sours at the mention of her dad’s flirty text, scoffing as she swipes another gummy from the jar. “Real fuckin’ subtle, Dad,” she murmurs.

You sharpen your gaze at Anna, blurring the brown curls and low brows from your peripheral. “Uhuh…?”

“Then, there was the lying to your dad about where you were. That Monday – you said you were at mine. You weren’t. Your dad called my dad to ask, ‘n my dad asked me why the hell you’d lie. I figured, What a weird coincidence, right?”

You slip off your stool, legs feeling more liquid than bone. “Oh, Jesus…”

“But then…then, I saw how you were when he called on the way to Frank’s. In the car. You were…fucking weird. And then Joel punched that dude – that basically confirmed it. I don’t think either of your dads would do that for me. It felt…it felt personal. He took your hand ‘n dragged you outta there, and it felt like…somethin’ else.”

You’re leaning against the counter, head in your hands. Struggling to even listen to her piece it all together. Were you this fucking obvious, the whole time?

Anna answers for you. “Yeah,” she says, nodding, “I didn’t catch two fucking boyfriends cheating on me, and not pick up some detective skills, babe.”

You stand straight, composure slowly building over shame. “And your dad doesn’t know? My –” you flick your head across the store, lowering your voice, “– my dad hasn’t told him?”

A laugh spurts from somewhere deep in her chest. “Hell, no. Are you tryna give him a second heart attack? No. He just thinks you were somewhere you didn’t want your dad to know – a boy’s or something. Which – well, I guess you were.”

You nod, half-appreciation, half-resignation. Alright. Now shut up about it, would you?

“But listen,” Anna says, apparently not as good at mindreading as she is at secret-revealing, “y’all gotta work on being sneaky. You’re, like, really bad at it.”

“Yeah,” you sniff, “thanks, Anna.”

You grip the edge of the counter and try to draw your eye away from your dad; a little angry that he’s here, and yet, a little more thankful that you’ve had at least a tiny glimpse of him. Desperate for him to come over, to acknowledge your mutual existence in the same room, and yet – petrified that he does.

He keeps his back to you, though you notice him turning every so often, looking at you from his peripheral. Nope – your black shirt and blue jeans are still behind the counter. He turns back to the shelf.

“Hi, sweetie.” A woman in a pink blouse approaches the counter. She lays down a couple pairs of plyers and you ring her up, asking if she found everything okay. Choking a little when you inhale the scent of her perfume.

“Beautiful day for you to be in here workin’, huh?” Her rosy cheeks fill as she hands you the cash.

Oh, yeah. It’s a beautiful day to be stuck selling plyers to pink women in pink blouses smelling of pink perfume, while my dad – still reeling from the revelation that I’ve been sleeping with his best friend, by the way – pretends to peruse the store.

“I’m almost done,” you reply, blunt enough to deflate her expression only a little, sliding the paper bag stamped Sal’s back across the counter.

She nods in thanks and slinks off, suffocating aroma following her. And like a magician, when she disappears off to the side, your dad stands in her wake. A few feet from you, keeping his distance, watching carefully before he dares to move. Waiting for your go-ahead.

When you lift your chin, beckoning him forward, Anna takes Sarah’s arm and yanks her away, shoving some shredded boxes into her arms. “You wanna help me?” she asks the nosy Miller, tossing something of an alarmed glance back at you and your dad.

There’s a funny feeling behind your eyes when he steps up, empty hand resting hesitantly on the counter. “She coverin’ up the smell of a dead body or som’?” he asks.

The air pushes from your lungs, a laugh barreling with it. Your hands clasp on the surface opposite his. A scorch of white heat at the nape of your neck. “Very vibrant, huh?”

“Very.” He clears his throat, shakes his head a little, and takes a deep breath. “I figured this might be as good a place as any to find you. I didn’t want you to think I was…cornering you, or anything, if I showed up at Joel’s.”

“I wouldn’t – I mean, maybe. But, y’know…this is fine.” Your arms cross defensively, the baggy material of Joel’s shirt wrapping snug around you.

Your dad seems to know. Evidence being that it’s you, in a shirt all too big – a shirt he’d likely see his best friend in, too. It forces your arms tighter, sucking in the scent of Joel to combat the dizzying feeling of nerves.

“I’m glad to see you’re alright,” he says eventually, fingers drumming awkwardly. “I just wanted to know you were fine.”

“I am fine. I promise. Just – working a lot.”

He nods, looking down to his feet. Twists the toe of his boot into the linoleum.

“I’m glad to see you’re alright, too,” you offer, the words fluid and spilling from one to the next – something forceful in their nature.

Your dad’s eyes lift at the same time that his cheeks do. Relief. “Thanks, kiddo. I actually – I was hopin’ that maybe we could talk. If you’re free. I don’t know what time you get off today.”

“I finish in ten minutes,” you say, and hope seems to paint across his face – washing away instantly when you add, “but I’m going to the movies with Sarah.”

He’s nodding again, eyes fixed back on his boots. “Right, right.”

“…But maybe once we’re done I can swing by?”

“Oh, well – I’m workin’ late again. I’ll be out by the time…Yeah. Sorry, hon.”

“That’s okay.”

“Late one again tonight.”

“This, uh – what’s his name again? Kel–?”

“Kelman, yeah. Yeah. How ‘bout I call you tomorrow ‘n we can work somethin’ out? You and Sarah, you enjoy your night.”

You lean back from the counter, slowly more confident in your ability to hold yourself upright. “Yeah. Okay. Thanks, Dad.”

His lips press together in a flat attempt at a smile. “I’ll leave you to it. You mind if I…give you a hug?”

And then you’re the one awkwardly, forcedly smiling. Your teeth gritting behind taut lips. “Not at all,” you whisper, and wander carefully around the counter to where he stands.

He opens his arms and pulls you against his chest, your head tilting to rest your ear on his shoulder. You hook your arms under his, feeling his wrists crossing at your spine. Like two statues, two figures of stone fixing their crumbling bodies in an embrace, suddenly disjointed and ill-fitting. Your heart hurts beneath layers of rock, swelling in attempt to reach for his, shrinking back crestfallen when he feels too far.

He kisses the side of your head, pulls away, and taps your cheek once. “You know,” he says, letting you withdraw from his grasp, “I really miss you.”

You nod. “Miss you, too.”

“Let’s talk soon, alright?”

“Yeah.”

And then he’s leaving, drifting back out into the summer sun, rock disintegrating as the light catches him again. More human, less monster-under-your-bed. He’s just your dad again, just that swaying, bumbling man who used to sprinkle rainbow flakes over your ice cream and double-knot your laces.

The shadows of Sarah and Anna appear at your elbows, the three of you watching your dad sink into his car. You still feel made of rock, splitting somewhere down the middle as you stare at his figure.

“Well?” Sarah asks.

He turns right out of the parking lot, disappears behind a hedgerow.

“Yeah,” you reply, turning in a daze. “We’re gonna…gonna talk.”

“That’s good, right? That sounds…promising.”

You shrug. “I guess.”

Sarah places a gentle hand on your arm, drawing your attention to her kind eyes and infectious smile. “We should probably get goin’,” she says, and you agree.

“What movie are you seeing?” Anna asks, filling your spot behind the counter as you turn, making for the back of the store.

“Barbie,” Sarah tells her.

“Nice. She paying?”

“Obviously. Mom duties.”

You kick the door closed on their giggles.

Two days pass without a word from your dad. No text, no call, no visit to Sal’s when you’re on shift the following day. By Monday, you’ve convinced yourself that the entire thing was a dream, a hallucination conjured up by your imagination in attempt to rid you of some of the guilt still chewing at your heart. Bat it out of your brain, like swatting the rear end of a wild animal let loose indoors.

Guilt which is only remedied, only soothed by Joel. By the feeling which overcomes your chest when you look at him – lungs faltering, heart leaping. The peace of falling asleep in his safe embrace, the heat from his body enough to keep you comfortable all night, and then waking up tangled in his sheets – the smell of bacon and eggs twirling through the house, the distant sound of his humming drawing you downstairs to his side.

Late nights on the porch, watching the sun bleed heavily into the sky. Your ankles in his lap, a guitar over his thigh. Thumb gentle on the strings, soft timbre of song lulling you to some place far from reality: the same rosy, dreamlike state you’ve mostly occupied since he dragged you through his front door, kicked your shoes and all of your worries to the side, and made you forget that anything bad had ever happened.

The most comfortable you’ve ever felt in your life, the most loved – a world where your every word is heard and weighed, rolling around Joel’s palms and slotting carefully into his back pocket. A world where his lips on your neck as you make dinner, where the crook of his arm catching you as you pass by, is all normal. Where I love you and I love you, too become the last words your sleepy ears hear at night, right before you sink into a shared sleep.

All of it becoming as natural as the pale moon switching for her golden sister at dawn. As instinctive as breathing.

“Have you ever made love to anyone?” you ask him one night, the aftershock of an orgasm still soaking into your skin.

Joel pauses, hips slowing between yours. “Yeah,” after a couple beats, “sure.”

“What’s it feel like?” you ask, honestly. Combing his dark hair through your fingers. “I’ve never…No one’s ever…”

“Baby,” he says. “We’ve done it. I’ve done it to you.”

Your body tenses and then melts around him. One blink and suddenly the world softens, seems to bow into the background – the only sharp object Joel, the twinkle in his eye piercing through the haze like blinking white stars in thick, dark clouds.

You whisper, “Can you do it again? So I can feel what it’s like?”

He pushes himself up, one elbow planted by your ear, the other hand lifting your thigh. Hooking it over his waist, lowering his arm again to cage you under his body. He nudges your chin with his nose, lifting it to line your lips with his, hold every part of your body as close to his as he can.

Deeper, in every sense of the word. Slow, hard. Eyes on you the entire time, watching the way your face contorts and your jaw slackens, holding the shape of your head in his hands, swallowing his own moans and grunts to make space between you for yours.

“Look at me, baby, eyes on me,” he says, and by instinct, your eyes roll forward, focusing or half-focusing on the slick hair at his forehead, the red flush climbing his neck, seeping into the skin under his beard. “You feel it? Feel where I’m goin’?”

And yeah, you whine, you do feel it. Feel him dragging you further away from this world and into the next – somewhere a plain away, somewhere new and different to anything you’ve ever known before. Where physicality is a language, a fluid conversation between the melding of his body and yours; where there are a million words swirling around his pupils, hypnotizing and entrancing and drawing you in until you’re tumbling headfirst into the inky pools.

Where I love you sounds like the groan Joel can’t hold back, feels like the pulsing flood as he snaps between your legs. Where making love is as simple as the squeeze of his hand around yours; the shove of his plate over the kitchen table, offering you the last bite of grilled cheese or simply admitting that it was yours before he’d even taken the first. That addictive laugh of his when you stall the fucking truck for the fifth time: You asked me to teach you, baby, I’m tryna teach you. Foot on the gas, c’mon. You got it. That’s it – now, slow. Slower. Try to feel it. No, really feel it.

Feel it. Really, try to feel it. Can you feel it? Do you know the difference yet? The difference between everyone who was before, and the one who is now? Do you finally get it?

“I feel it,” you cry out, and his frame holds yours together as you fall apart.

It feels like – you.

How did I ever know anything before I knew you?

“That one’s nice,” Joel says, his voice jumping the short distance between his lips and your ear.

You tilt your head, body moving with his when he lifts his hand to swipe through some more of the images. The spacious living room, newly refurbed kitchen, the view of downtown Los Angeles.

He adjusts the blanket draped over your legs. “Washer dryer, walk-in closet,” and then, leaning in closer, whispers, “a balcony. That’s cool.”

“Hm,” you turn to face him, your body shelled by his in the corner of his couch, “I bet you like the balcony, cowboy.”

He smiles plainly in response, squeezing your nose between two knuckles. Yeah. Lots you can do with a balcony.

A sharp gasp from across the room pierces the sweet moment. You and Joel turn in its direction, its owner wide-eyed and blinking at the TV.

“Wait a second,” Sarah yelps. “George is the John Doe?” She gasps again when Meredith announces the same news to her friends onscreen. “Shut – the fuck – up!”

“Language,” Joel clips, chest rumbling between your shoulder blades.

“Oh, like you didn’t have the exact same reaction. George is the…Oh, that sucks. Are you kidding me?” She fishes her phone from the waves of blanket surrounding her, thumbs rapidly typing, eyes shooting from screen to screen.

You snort, turning back to your own phone in your hand, when a text appears at the top of the screen.

Dad: Hey kiddo. Sorry to keep you waiting, work been hectic. Off the rest of today if you’re free to come over.

Your thumb latches onto the message, holding it for Joel to read, too, before letting it disappear off into your notifications.

He tightens his hold on you, burying his nose into the cotton of his own hoodie over your shoulders. His breath pushes heavy and thoughtful across the material. “Still seems as calm as the other day.”

“Too calm,” you admit, “it’s freaking me out.”

“What can he do, you know? You’re here, he’s there. Your dad ain’t an idiot, baby. He knows stayin’ angry about it’s only gonna push you further away.”

“Sure made ‘im feel like an idiot…”

Joel catches the comment and pockets it before it gathers enough weight to bruise. “Well,” he clears his throat, “it’s up to you. I ain’t letting you do anything you’re not comfortable with.”

“Mhm,” you reply, and wait for more words to fall to your tongue. An answer, a response. A decision that you know you don’t feel equipped or even rightful to make.

“Do you want to go talk to him?” Joel asks.

“I…I want to make things right. I wanna fix it.”

“Okay. And will talking to him do that?”

You turn to face him, frowning. “I don’t fucking know,” you mutter. “Will it?”

He smiles sympathetically. “Wish I knew, darlin’. Would it help if I came? Sat outside in the truck, waited for you? It gets too much, you decide you wanna leave – we leave.”

“You ain’t scared to be near him again?”

He gulps back a laugh, Adam’s apple bobbing awkwardly before he allows himself to answer. “Only thing scary about your dad is the sunlight reflectin’ off his damn head. No, I ain’t scared.”

You study him a minute longer, eyes roaming from the lips you could sketch every score of from memory, the beard you’re sure has forever altered your prints from the number of times you’ve run your fingers over the bristles. The eyes which know every secret, every whisper, every thought behind your own.

You sigh, smiling dumbly as he wraps his arms tighter around you. “Fine. Let’s go.”

Joel pulls up by the curb, parking politely at the end of your driveway rather than alongside your dad’s car, like he usually would. Like he used to.

You crane your head, looking past the shape of him to survey the unassuming house. Quiet, still. No sign of hurricane or earthquake, no tremors of rage or words like rocks raining down on the truck roof. Your thumb plunges into the buckle of your seatbelt, the webbing whipping over your shoulder.

“Sure you’re okay?” Joel asks, watching your fingers lift to the door handle.

“Mhm,” you reply, distant. “’s just my dad, right? What’s the worst that could happen?”

His eyebrows lift, agreeing. He takes your hand in his and holds it to his lips. “Whatever it is,” he mumbles into your fingers, “if it happens, you come straight back out here, you hear? I ain’t moving.”

The urge to stay exactly where you are and let him carry you off back to his place overwhelms you for a brief second. To stay in the safety of the truck cabin, stay within touching distance of Joel. And as quickly as it’s there, it’s gone. Overcome by the memory of that stony hug in Sal’s, the vacant, lonely eyes boring into late-night TV.

A sharp chap over your shoulder shocks you back to life. You twist in your seat, looking down at a face wrinkled by curiosity and wisdom, sheen of lipstick curved in a mischievous grin. You roll the window down, mirroring her smile.

“Joel Miller,” Rita calls, lowering her ring-adorned fist and pointing over to her car. “Help me with these groceries.”

“Afternoon to you, too, Rita,” he calls back, and she raises two thin, penciled eyebrows. His sigh trickles into a chuckle as he snaps the door open, leaning into you. “I ain’t moving,” he mutters, swinging out of the truck.

“Sure looks like you’re movin’,” you call back, letting Rita pull on your door to let you out.

“How are you, darlin’?” she asks. “Haven’t seen you around in a while.”

You hop down beside her, helping her tug the shawl around her arms back over her shoulders. “Yeah, I’ve, uh…I’ve been busy.”

She nods, and then her eyes drift to somewhere behind you. “They go in the kitchen, son.” She points to her house. “I’ll come help you unpack ‘em.”

Joel’s face twists, eyes wide, hands outstretched. You swallow back a laugh when he looks to you, an almost teenage expression which asks, You seein’ this? as he turns back to the Nissan.

“I better go,” Rita says then, giving your arms one last squeeze. “You take care, now. Tell your dad I’m askin’ after ‘im.”

“I will, Rita.” You turn on your heel and saunter around Joel’s truck, giving him one last twirl as he hoists two bags under his muscled arms, rolling his eyes as you spin.

You pull the weight of yourself up your drive, passing past versions of yourself as you near the front door. She’s stumbling towards her dad’s car, a bucket of soapy water sloshing around between her knees. She’s sat on the curb, waiting for Joel’s truck to roll up, praying she never hears another Marty Robbins song again.

She’s naïve, still. Knows no better, knows no worse. Chasing a high, chasing the thrill of being caught and the thrill of nobody ever knowing. A relationship built entirely on lies and deceit. A love woven with dark threads of shame and anger, a tattered mess in one corner where the edges fray and loosen.

And you think: you’ve never felt more jealous of anybody your whole life.

The front door clicks open easily, like the building welcomes you home with a relieved sigh. You follow sunlight into the hallway, feeling it easier to walk through than before – less dense, less suffocating. Less guilty. An honest thief, back to return the bleeding heart she dragged out the door with her.

Secrets like shards of broken glass on the floor, debris from that day. And as if he hears the crunch of your footsteps, your dad appears at the bottom of the hall.

“Hi, hon.”

Eyes wide with a misplaced shock, you say, “Hey.”

“You okay?”

“’m good.”

“Good. Come in, come through.” He beckons you forward, a smile only half-forced on his lips. “You want a drink or anything?”

You follow him into the kitchen, politely accepting a glass of water when he offers it.

He turns with two steady palms on the island, watching as you drag a chair free and sit at the table. “How’s Joel?” he asks, swallowing roughly.

The words come delayed, your open mouth lying in wait. Your body selfishly trying to hoard the information, protective the second the image of that six-foot, two-hundred-pound man crosses your mind. “He’s fine. He’s out front.”

It sounds like a warning, though you don’t mean for it to. Just conversation. He’s helping Rita with her groceries. She’s asking after you, by the way. But your dad seems to sense the natural amber tone of it – the sparking of a flame, daring to catch. He’s waiting for this to go south.

He nods, accepting the fact of it. His own failed attempt to separate the two of you only drove you closer together. Only made you want Joel more.

But then he’s nearing you again, pulling out the chair opposite yours. “I’m glad you’re here,” he says, settling with a sigh. “Glad we’re…we’re talkin’ again, at least.”

Your head angles. “Are we?”

His body jerks, flinching from the sting of the question. “Well,” his head wobbles, jowls quivering, “I sure hope so. I was takin’ it as a good sign that you’re here.”

“I’m here,” you repeat, “but that doesn’t mean I’m staying.”

“No, I know. I know. Joel’s out front, ‘n all that.” He looks down at his hands, clasped in his lap. Holds his tongue behind his front teeth, waiting for the next turn of conversation.

You lean forward, elbows on the table, softening your voice. “Dad?” you say, and he looks up. “This whole entire thing – I think…I think we oughta try and understand each other, a little better. Hear each other out.”

“I am tryin’, hon. I’m really tryin’. You dealt me an awful lot to hear out ‘n understand.”

You rock back, sinking against the hard chair. Tracing the wood grains in the table, nails digging between. Shame coiling like a snake beneath your tongue, taking up too much space in your mouth. Its venom dripping between your teeth, acrid and sour; tendons in your neck jumping with the bitterness of your dad’s tone.

He sighs. “Be honest with me a second.”

“Huh?”

He waits a beat, watching you carefully. Opens his mouth, pauses, and then speaks. “Who instigated it?”

Your finger pushes harder into the surface. Digging new divots. “Um…kinda both of us. Was sort of a two-way thing from the get-go.”

His lips twist, almost imperceptible. He looks behind you to the patio outside. You can’t read what’s in his eyes. It makes you say more, say things you reckon you’ll regret later – but something to fill the silence between you. Something to let him sink his teeth into.

“There was flirting. Lotta flirting. And then it…it just sort of snowballed.”

“Snowballed.” He looks uncomfortable, lifting his hands to cup over his face. “I just didn’t take him as the type,” he says, muffled into his palms.

“As what type?”

He drops his hands, hitting his thighs with a slap, and looks you dead in the eye. Sad, almost. “Arthur Kennedy type.”

“He’s not.”

You say it instinctively. Your ears hear it at the same time your dad does. He looks at you blankly.

“He’s not,” you repeat, a little looser. Less hasty. “Look,” you sigh, “I know it’s not what you want to hear, but…everything that we ever did, I wanted to do. I already told you. There ain’t nothing we did that I didn’t ask him to. I swear to you.”

You think back to the cookout, how angry Joel was at the thought of Arthur Kennedy hanging over you. How pissed he’d be, hearing your dad line him up against that old leather boot of a man. Comparing, contrasting. Here’s how you measure up, son. How much of a phantom Arthur Kennedy has been, your whole life, and how much of a sanctuary Joel is in comparison.

Your stomach twists at the thought. A tight knot, wound by a desperation to clear the name of a man whose worst offense was doing exactly what your dad would’ve told him to: leave.

“This whole thing,” you go on, “it’s a mess, alright? It’s – totally fucked. And we shouldn’t’ve lied, shouldn’t’ve been keeping things from you, but then…what did you expect?”

Your dad cuts in like a bullet: “I expect the two of you not to do what you were doin’.”

“No, I know that. But we did it, right? It’s done now. I meant, did you really want us to sit you down in the living room ‘n say, Hey, Dad – guess what?”

He grimaces at the thought.

“Didn’t think so. We didn’t even know what it was. We had no idea what it’d turn into. But you gotta hear me out: it wasn’t just…some fling, or whatever you’re thinkin’. I swear, Dad, it wasn’t.”

He still doesn’t say anything. Doesn’t lift his stare from the table. You feel like a little kid, desperate to make him love you again. Desperate to make him listen. The space between you fills with the bored tick tick tick of the kitchen clock. Each second hurting a little more than the last.

“I’m sorry,” you whisper. “I’m sorry that I hurt you. I’m sorry I let you down, but…I’m not sorry that I did it. If I could go back, knowing everything I know – I’d do it all over again.”

The words roll across the table to him like billiards. You lean back again, watching them as they rattle from his side to yours – your sentence delivered back into your ears. You nod, a sure thought in your mind.

I’d do it all over again. All the covering, all the hiding. The aching, the wishing and wanting. Staring at Joel’s empty hand, dying to slot yours into it. Dying to put any part of yourself near him; your head under his chin, your arms linked around his waist. Knowing you two would feel, knowing everyone else would see, just how perfectly you fit together.

The chasing your own tails: Did you lie well enough? Do they suspect anything? Did we leave any evidence? Disturbed sheets, a collar still upturned. Can they hear us? Have they noticed we’re missing? We’re always fucking missing.

You’d do it all over again. You know what it cost, now, sat directly opposite the price. His polite smiles like veneers over rotten teeth. The tremble in his lip when he opens his mouth to speak.

And it was worth it. Joel. He was worth it all, in the end.

All over again.

“Do you know that every time I look at you, there are…probably four versions that I see?”

You frown. Did he hear what you just said? All ov–? “What?”

Your dad laughs to himself. “When you walk outta that door, I see a little pink backpack over your shoulders. Gym bag in your hand, maybe. I see missin’ front teeth, I see those little clip-on earrings you used to love so much.

“And – and when you’re mad at me, when we fight, I see you at fourteen. Growing pains, y’know? I still remember you slamming your bedroom door in my face, all ‘cause I wouldn’t let you go to that girl Molly’s birthday party.” He looks up, smiling at your perplexed expression.

“I don’t even…remember that, hardly.”

“Long time ago now. My point is,” he continues, “you’re twenty-three. You’re grown. And I just can’t figure out how to make those other versions…grow with you. You still feel like my kid. Still that little girl with the pink backpack.”

“But,” you clear your throat, trying to swipe her from your own memory, “I’m not. I’m not her anymore, Dad. And I think maybe you gotta give me the space to be someone different, now.”

He pinches the bridge of his nose, nodding. “I know, I know. I just didn’t think this new version of you would…y’know. Be with Joel, ‘n all. That is something I did not see comin’.”

“You think I did?” You spit a laugh. “If you told me when I came home that this is what was waiting for me…that I was gonna fall…”

Your teeth close around the sentence, dropping your dad’s eye. But it’s too late.

He stares back at you like the sun. “…Fall in love with ‘im?”

And you cower. You wince, almost. The last secret. The last thing he doesn’t know. “I don’t…I don’t know, I –”

“You love him. You do, don’t you?”

Your thumbs run circles around one another, fingers locking until your knuckles hurt. “I don’t know,” you mumble, wishing for the tenth time since you sat down that Joel was beside you, in front of you, around you.

“’s what Anna seems to reckon.”

Your eyes flit up. “Anna?”

He hums. “She is her father’s daughter. A damn meddler. She called here, last night.”

“Oh, Jesus,” you groan, head falling into your hands. “Ignore her, please. Ignore all of it. She doesn’t –”

He holds a palm up. “Now, hold on. You don’t even know what it was she said.”

You huff a sigh, twisting your hand in the air. Go on.

“She reckons you do love him. Reckons he loves you back. More, if that’s even possible, she said. Told me all about the way he stepped in front a’ that boy at Frank’s. About your face when he picked you up from rodeo night, how ecstatic you were. The difference she sees in you.”

“Difference,” you scoff, glancing out to the backyard. “What difference?”

“Same difference I see, probably. Same difference Bill said he saw, too: you’re happier. Even I can’t deny it, hon. It’s damn hard – you never make nothin’ easy on your old man – but…but I am willing to try.”

The hurt begins to slowly fizzle away. Cooling, washing from your skin like foamy waves. Curiosity left to shine through.

“You may not understand this ‘til you have kids of your own – if you have kids of your own – but there ain’t a thing in this world that I love more than I love you. And when you love somethin’ that much, you’ll do anything to stop it from getting hurt. Anything. That’s all I want you to know.”

A silence falls between you, thoughtful and waiting. The clock’s ticking grows sharper again. It seems to consider the same as you: there should be more to this. More to be said, to be convinced. More yelling, even.

But you arrive at the same conclusion, at near enough the same time: there is nothing more. Cards flat on the table, eyes pouring all over them. To question it, to second-guess any of it, would be to tempt fate.

“Anyway,” your dad sits forward, clasping his hands on the table, “tell me what’s goin’ on. What’s been happening in your world?”

You shrug. A little, shy thing. “Work. Been hanging with Sarah a lot. And I, uh, I had a job interview last week.”

“Oh, yeah? Where?”

You shift awkwardly in your chair. “For, uh…that one in LA. They called to offer it a couple days ago.”

A smile pulls across his lips. Growing, growing, growing until he’s grinning back at you. Pride, little bit of surprise. Whole lot of amusement and joy. “You take it?” he asks, figuring he knows the answer already.

“Not yet,” you reply. “Think I’m going to, though. ‘s too good to say no.”

He lifts his eyebrows in agreement, looking down at his hands. Shoulders lurch some under the weight of your news. “There goes that little backpack,” he mutters to himself, and you smirk.

“Can’t hold her back forever.”

“I never had a hold on her in the first place. You were walkin’ on outta that door the minute you found your own two feet.”

You snort. “Good! Good for me. Let me go out into the big ol’ world; let me go fuck it all up ‘n come home for dinner once I’m done.”

“I intend to,” your dad says, nodding along to every passionate word you say. And then he asks, “How’s Joel feelin’ about it all? About LA?”

Your shoulder jerks in a half-shrug. “He’s fine, I guess. Says he’ll miss me, but then – we haven’t exactly had the most typical relationship up until now. Survived a lot I reckon would break any normal couple…”

It’s the first time you think you’ve ever said it. Couple. You’ve thought of it – flicked through the words you might use to describe him. Your boyfriend, your partner. None of them seem to fit exactly who he is to you. None of them strong enough to carry the weight of what’s shared between you. He’s Joel. He’s your Joel. Nothing will ever come close.

Your dad hears it, too. The newness of it. The crisp shape of the word, not yet thawed to this new world. Your tongue still learning how to pronounce it, how to pair it with the image of Joel.

“Guess he can fly out ‘n visit whenever, right?”

“Yeah,” you swallow, “and I’ll be back here, too. Christmas ‘n all.”

Your dad smiles. Relieved, assured. Light slowly returning to his eyes.

“We’ll be fine,” your chest swells, “so Joel says. I trust ‘im.”

You both quieten, sitting back in your chairs. What once felt like a room ablaze, flames tearing the skin from your body as you dragged your heels through it – now feels like a gentle warmth. Waves wrought with enough power and force to destroy you, now seeping off with the change of the tide. Bumps on the horizon.

“Speaking of,” you say, making to stand, “I should probably get goin’.”

“Yeah. Yeah, hon.” Your dad follows, arm on your shoulder as he walks you down the hall.

The sun intrudes, tosses herself into your arms as you pull the front door open. In her golden-rayed wake sits that dark truck, same as always. The same dark tee, the same dark-speckled-gray hair. Arms folded, stood against the body, waiting. Eyes on the house, on your figure as you step down onto the doormat. Joel straightens when your dad follows you out, chest sucking in a ragged breath.

They look at one another, and that’s about it. Something of a nod from Joel – not quite returned by your dad. You figure that might take some time to come back around. And that’s okay. You can make peace with it.

You turn back. Your dad’s looking down at you, hand over his eyes to shield them from the sun.

“You know,” you take a deep breath, “the only times he’s ever hurt me, are the times he’s left. The times I haven’t had him around.”

And then you step back, the magnet in your chest telling you it’s time to return to its partner.

In high school, your English teacher tasked the class with writing a short story. Any genre you wanted, any word count up to two thousand. The boys mostly dicked around, wrote action-packed, blood-and-guts garbage. One girl wrote something you’re sure you’d seen in a Hallmark movie before.

But you – you spent two weeks straight, writing. Awake until all hours of the night, hunched over your laptop, sunbathing in the blue hue of an open document. Fingers hammering rapidly into your keyboard.

A man and a woman meet in Central Park. She – hair the color of rust, spilling down her shoulders and lifting at the ends, twisting around the fingers of the blustery wind. A red glow around her third finger where gold once lived. Sat on a bench, alone. Hiding, perhaps. And he – sharp suit and tie, clean-shaven, a steel-blue gaze that might cut glass. Missing the city traffic by taking a walk through the park on his way home. Fleeing, perhaps.

He notices her trench coat first. Bright red, a poppy swaying in the breeze. A little hopeless, a solemn wilt to it. The quickly dampening fire of her hair in the rain, the opaque sheen of polish chipping from her nails. And he thinks he recognizes the constellation of freckles painted across her cheeks. Thinks he might’ve mapped them, once, in some kind of past-life.

She looks up and realizes she recognizes the cut of his gaze. Piercing through her, splitting her in two. Thinks she might’ve felt it before, the opening of her soul to someone who looked just like him – a little more baby-faced, a little more spirited. In some kind of past-life, too.

She stands, and he slows, and they meet somewhere in the middle. Words exchanged; body heat transferred through hugs. Is that really you? You look so different. It’s been years. He doesn’t ask about the lack of jewelry on her third finger. She doesn’t ask about the gray circles beneath his eyes. Just, You wanna grab a coffee? and, Yeah. Yeah, I do.

They sit at the window, watch the yellow taxis and the black umbrellas and the trembling traffic lights. They talk about life then, life now, and silently agree to forget about the part in the middle. They look at each other the same way they must have before they lost one another, before life and love and everything else got between them.

They agree to meet again in a week. They swear that they will not fall back in love.

They know as well as each other that they’re really promising to do just that.

Love – twisted and turned over and over, until it’s a different shape altogether. We started as one thing, and we watched it shift into something completely different. Clay in the potter’s hands. Didn’t you think it might fall apart? There was a moment I thought the heat of the kiln might break us. I’m glad it didn’t. I’m glad we’re made of tough stuff.

I’m glad I found you again, in that park. The pissing rain and the wind so strong I felt it lifting the sense from my mind. In that hardware store, in that bar filled with weed and bad intentions. I’m glad you split me open, glad you could see the good that was still inside. I thought I’d lost her for a minute. Thought she’d forgotten her way home.

Let’s go get a coffee. Let’s pretend it’s always been this way.

Let’s fall in love. The rest will take care of itself.

It takes three weeks in total to properly pack up your things. Two days after you accepted the job, you bought boxes and tape, and began to dismantle the identity you’d spent twenty-three years creating for yourself, a little bit at a time. Taking apart the pink-walled museum of your life, artefact by artefact.

Joel has helped as much as you’ve let him. Laid back on your bed when you’ve dismissed him one too many times, raised his eyebrows and laughed with you whenever you come across some old, forgotten piece of memorabilia. Something ceremonial to it, something innocent and fun. Like a little graduation for all the parts of yourself.

Soon, as the last of the summer sun dampens outside, your room lies vacant. Empty of any real evidence of your being here. Bedsheets and pillows folded, packed away; framed photos and posters unpinned from the wall and wrapped up safely. Drawers and closets barren, left with a selection of your less-loved, less-worn clothes. A wardrobe built from stuff you’ll only ever wear when you come back home to visit, if even then.

Joel’s sat on the bare mattress, looking around your room. You’re stood opposite, leaning against your half-empty dresser. The sun filters feebly through your turned shades, averting her eyes.

You look over at him. Golden, like the sunlight outside. Warm, like the breeze through the trees. Yours. Yours yours yours.

“What?” Joel asks, his eyes having finally found their way back to you. He smiles at your focused expression.

“Nothing. I don’t know. Just…”

“Talk to me. Tell me.”

“You are – this is…” You sigh. “This is good. I think it’s good. Not just all the stuff we did. But you.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah,” you tell him. “You’re good for me.” You grip the wooden lip tighter, swaying nervously when you add, “But I think it was always gonna go this way, wasn’t it?”

He sniffs. Shoulders jerk in a weak shrug. “Yeah, I think so, baby.”

Your eyelashes flutter, soothing the prickling feeling of tears forming. “I don’t – I don’t know if I want it to.”

“Yeah,” Joel says through a groan, pushing himself up, “you do.”

You shake your head as he approaches, and his hands cup your cheeks.

“Hey,” he whispers, pulling your body tight against his. Your face buries in his chest; your tears wet on his shirt. He shushes you, rocks you gently back and forth with a hand on the back of your head. “Listen to me.”

“Joel –”

“Listen to me.” He pulls you back, swipes the tears from your cheeks as quickly as they fall. “We’re fine. We are going to be fine.”

“I don’t want to leave you –”

“I know, I know. But you want to go do this. And that’s okay. Both of ‘em, at once.”

Your head shakes again. Like an instinctive reaction to the thought of being separated from him.

Joel smiles softly. “I am going to miss you like hell. You got no idea. But,” he pulls your head back to face his, tucks your hair behind your ear, “I want you to go. You gotta go after this. Right?”

“I know,” you whisper, lungs lurching for breath. “I just – wish it didn’t mean leavin’ you.”

“Darlin’…” Joel coos, pulling you in again. “You know how much I love you? What do I keep tellin’ you? We’ll be alright. It’s you ‘n me, right?”

You nod, salty tears slipping between your lips onto your tongue. When you look up, you notice the same expression on Joel’s face. He blinks his own away before they fall.

“’s you ‘n me,” you repeat, and he pulls your lips together.

You roll your tongue onto his, letting him taste you – all of you. Your mouth, and your thoughts, and your tears, and your pain. You let him take it all, let him hold it for this moment as you breathe him in, let his body fill yours in every way.

Your hands are in his hair, your chest pressed against his; he’s every thought on your mind and every beat in your heart. He’s the blood thrumming through your veins, he’s the oxygen filling your lungs; he’s the words between your teeth and the flesh around your bones.

And he pulls you, and you follow, his shirt in your fist, over to the bed where he lays you gently and falls on top.

“When’s he get back?” he asks, taking your bottom lip between his teeth.

“Later,” you mumble, your fingers picking at the hem of his shirt.

He pushes back, letting you tug it up up up over his shoulders at the same rate he peels your tee from yours, both tossing each other’s clothes to somewhere else in the room. Jeans undone, shorts dragged from your hips, underwear discarded until you’re naked under him, and he’s naked over you, and there’s nothing and no one between.

Joel cradles you, holds you close as he presses a palm roughly against the underside of your thigh, opening your body to him in a way only he’s mastered. In a way you only would, for him.

His hand cups your sex, fingers nudging between your folds, pushing in when your jaw slackens and a wanton moan echoes from your throat across Joel’s tongue.

“Yeah,” he coos, wrist jacking between your legs, “’s my girl. Gotta get you warmed up, huh? Get you nice ‘n wet.”

Your back arches, arms linking around his neck to pull him closer, pull him deeper. Hold him tight enough to you that your bodies feel one, feel connected at the meeting of Joel’s hand and the most intimate part of you; the meeting of your tongues between teeth.

And you gasp, the nudging of his fingers against the deepest part of your body, the messy circles of his thumb on your clit. The shape of him, solid and warm against the seam of your thigh.

You reach down for him, wrapping your fingers around his cock, and his breath hitches. Teeth bump into yours. You’re fucking irresistible to him.

“Darlin’,” his voice is low, daring you to keep going, “you wanna cut this short ‘fore we’re even started?”

You breathe a laugh into his jaw, hot and needy. “You get to play with me,” you whine, “I wanna play with you, too.”

Joel growls, seizing his movements, leaning back in what you take as him granting full access to his body. But then he says, “Turn around,” in a strict voice you’ve come to know as meaning one thing, and you pause.

You peel your eyes from his dick to blink up at him. “Turn –?”

“– around, now.” He takes your waist, hoisting you up until you’re straddling him, holding you inches above his body. “Turn.”

“What the fuck are you –?”

“Many times do I gotta tell you? You said you wanted to play.” He twists your waist until you follow his movements, swinging one leg over the other. He grabs your hips, tugging you back towards his face. “So, play,” he mutters, lowering your cunt down to his lips.

You gasp, falling forward and hitting the mattress between his legs. “J– fuck me. Are you s-serious?” You moan, hips rocking against the feeling of his bearded chin at your clit. “You’re like – a fucking – horny teenager. Oh, fuck.”

Your head falls forward, hands splaying out over his thighs, before your eyes refocus and you notice the hardened shape of him, tip oozing precome all over the hair-spattered plain of his groin. Your hand lifts, shakily taking hold of him again, and you lean down.

Elbows hooked over his thighs, you bring his tip to your lips, letting a thick bead of saliva fall and drip down the length of him, meeting your closed fist to be dragged up and down.

Joel’s hips almost buck. He holds it, manages to catch it, but you spot it. You’ve done this too many fucking times not to notice the reaction you draw from him.

“’s good,” you whisper, circling your hips on his face, tongue slipping across his cherry-red tip. “Feels so good.”

He responds in the form of a deep groan, rattling from his chest through your clit, shocking like lightning up your spine until the very same noise is thrown from your lips. You push down, tongue molding around every vein and the slow curve of his cock until your lips meet the thick brush of hair at his base, his tip kissing the very back of your throat.

Your throat which jumps, jolts at the feeling of something intruding – before you’re retreating again, pulling him from your body, warm, wet spit linking the two of you when you come up for air. And then you sink back down, head moving up down up down up down as his stomach tenses beneath your chest.

Joel’s palms keep a heavy hold on your ass, his tongue lapping between your folds like they’re the sweetest thing he’s ever tasted – like he might die if he doesn’t get his fix of you. And you think, they are, and he might, as your cheeks hollow and you bow down over him again.

You establish a rhythm, two waves swirling between one another: your hips rocking, Joel’s lifting ever so slightly as you suckle on one another. Your hand fisting the parts of him you can’t quite reach, not without choking; Joel holding you fixed to his jaw, letting the tip of his tongue hook around your swollen clit, then dragging it down until he’s letting you ride the wet muscle.

The approach of your first orgasm, a tiny spark catching to life in the pit of your belly, incites you with a need to open up further for him. Your throat taking more of him, your thighs slackening as you drive your cunt harder against his mouth.

“’m so close,” you whimper, lips curving around his cock. “So – fucking – ah, keep doin’ that. Right th-there.”

His hands hook around your thighs, tongue darting across your clit. His nose nudges somewhere between your folds, quickly becoming coated in the slick you’re leaking all over him.

“Joel,” you say, fists pumping his cock. Your voice a warning: it’s coming. You’re gonna – Fuck, you’re gonna come.

His voice is looser, more of a shrug of the shoulders when he pulls away from you. He inserts two fingers, curls them like before, like he knows drives you fucking insane. “Let go, babygirl,” he murmurs, lips immediately returning to position. And then, muffled and rough: “Come all over me.”

“Fuckfuckfuck,” you pant, hands squeezing around his cock, feeling that same spark ignite into flame, your entire body bursting with heat.

Your high rips through you, battering through each vein in your system, each nerve electrified. You collapse between his legs, his rough pubic hair sticking to the sweat on your chest, hips rutting wildly against the sharp cut of his jaw.

The mattress absorbs most of the desperate moan which streaks across your tongue, nails digging hard into the flesh of Joel’s thighs. And you hear the deep sound of his voice, the thud thud thud of a chuckle against your clit: the cocky fucker laughing to himself as he unravels you for what feels like the thousandth time.

“Alright,” Joel says, more to himself than to the fucked-out shape of you between his legs. He sits up and shifts you carefully down the bed, settling you face-down on the mattress and lifting your ass to meet his hips. “Okay?” he asks, kneeling behind you.

You feel his tip between your legs, slotting happily somewhere in your opening. Waiting for your response. A response you don’t feel able to give, as much as you’d like to; your lips puffy and confused, words jumbling behind them in a tangle of bliss and love.

“Baby,” Joel says, hand slinking down your back, pressing gentle circles into the nape of your neck. “You okay?”

Your head lifts, glancing over your shoulder to see his hairy torso, his thick arms caging over you. He lifts your chin with two fingers, cranes your neck up until you’re looking into his eyes, heavy lids blinking dumbly.

“Just fuck me,” you whisper, and Joel slips his tongue into your mouth.

You used to dream of coming back home. A few years away, doing whatever you wanted, wherever you wanted. Dreaming things up and then chasing them until they happened. Tiring yourself out, lungs gasping for breath and eyes always searching, always looking for a new target to pin up. But always coming back.

Austin, Texas. Its jagged skyline, the streets lined with a vibrant glow and star-spangled bunting. The river like a silver-bellied snake slithering through. Home.

You dreamt of living out your days here, once your blood had slowed and your mind settled. A quiet life in the country, a big wooden house with a wraparound porch. Two little rocking chairs, so you and whoever your husband turned out to be could sit and watch the sky fade from red into orange into white and then dull gray into deep blue.

Breeze kissing your cheek, his lips kissing your knuckles.

Joel.

Home.

You tell him, and he smirks. “That so?” he asks, wrapping his arms a little tighter around your naked body.

You nuzzle your cheek into the palm of his hand, breathing in the sweet scent of sweat and sex sitting in the air. “Mhm. You could play guitar until the stars come out.”

He hums in agreement. “Sounds like a pretty good dream. Tell you what: you go to LA, do what you gotta do. By the time you come back, there’ll be a big ol’ farmhouse, wraparound porch, rollin’ fields for the dogs. Coffee ‘n sunsets. How’s that sound?”

“And you’ll be there?”

He smiles. Scoops you in one arm and rolls you onto your front, chest to chest with him. His fingers ghost down the curve of your shoulder. “Baby,” he whispers, “I built the damn thing.”

It forces a laugh from your chest, something you’ve gotten used to by now. Joel and his ability to steal a giggle from you, the dumbest moments seeming the funniest. “You’re gonna build me a damn house?” you ask, chin resting between his pecs.

“That what you want?”

Your head rocks left to right, considering. “I just want you. That’s all.”

“Then you got me. I’m all yours.”

In his hazel eyes lives every moment you’ve ever shared. Every conversation, every kiss, every fight. Every minute he’s spent looking for you or at you, every minute you’ve spent looking back at him. It’s all in there. You see it like a movie reel, frame by frame.

It lands like a slot machine on that first night. Cleaning up after pizza. Shoulder to shoulder by your kitchen sink. You wish you’d just kissed him. Even with your dad right there. Wish you’d lifted your heels and put your lips on his, just for the fucking hell of it. Just to condense all of it, every second of longing and hurt and pain into one fleeting moment.

Wish you’d pulled him into you, against you, the weight of his body like an old friend. Welcomed it with open arms, like you’d spent your entire life missing it, waiting for it to come back to you. Let yourself feel your own heart, peeling between the cage of your ribs, reaching out for his. Always reaching for him.

Wish you’d looked him in the eye, tears softening the tufts of graying hair, vignetting the smirk only you can tell is there. Looked at him in that knowing way, that language only you two know; the glint in your eyes translating a thousand messy words into three. Just three – the simplest, lightest words you’ve ever known.

I love you. Let’s skip to the good part.

[v1si0n]

ch. 21: hyucks personal issue

It’s two in the morning as Donghyuck thrashes in his bed, pulling and tossing his sheets around to find some form of comfort that would help him sleep. His mind is plagued with thoughts of you and even at this ungodly hour the butterflies in his stomach refuse to settle.

Jisung’s arm draping across his chest snaps him out of his thoughts and he grimaces. He shoves the younger boy aside and slips out of the bed, tip toeing towards the bedroom door before quietly exiting. He walks through the living room and pulls at the sliding doors that lead him to the ocean view balcony.

The sounds of the waves crashing against the shore did little to ease the racing of Donghyuck’s mind. He was in what he could only describe as complete agony, his own thoughts eating at his brain as he stared off into the inky sky.

His mind wanders back to high school, specifically to the time when you had confessed to him and he chuckles to himself. He remembers the glow of your rosy cheeks and the way you nervously tugged at the hem of your knitted sweater. He remembers his heart beating out of his chest and his words being stuck in his throat as you told him you liked him. He winces when he recalls the way your eyes filled with tears when he stood there dumbfounded and unable to speak. He leans against the balcony railing and runs his hands through his hair.

“Is there room for me out here?”

Donghyuck turns his head when he hears your voice behind him, a smile etching itself onto his features when he sees a large blanket swaddling your body. He gestures to the spot next to him and you waddle over. Your eyes glisten as they look out at the view, and his own twinkle with adoration.

“Why are you up?” He asks quietly.

“I don’t know. I’ve been having a hard time sleeping since the whole campus intruder thing,” You confess.

“You should have told me! I could have kept you company,” He frowns.

“I wouldn’t wanna bother you, Hyuck,” You laugh to yourself.

“You wouldn’t be a bother,” He furrows his brows.

You meet his eyes and send him a small smile. A comfortable silence blankets the two of you as you both look out at the ocean, a slight breeze causing Donghyuck to shiver.

“Here,” You open your blanket towards him and he smiles before moving closer to you and wrapping the blanket around himself.

Your arms brush against each other as he adjusts himself and you internally sigh in relief that the dark of the night hides the rose tint on your cheeks.

“Why are you up?” You break the silence.

“Thinking about a lot of things,” He exhales.

“Like what?”

You swear you see the ghost of a smirk on his face and you quirk a brow.

“Feelings, the past, you,” he replies calmly and you tense up beside him.

“Care to elaborate?” You look at him in anticipation.

He lets out a breath as his eyes follow the way the water rolls onto the sand.

“I think,” he pauses and laughs, “I think I might have always had feelings for you.”

You stare at the side of his face, your features twisting in disbelief as he continues to stare out at the ocean.

"Why did you never tell me?"

"It was a personal issue,” he shrugs.

“You having feelings for me kind of also involves me."

He laughs at your statement and you stare at him incredulously, waiting for a response.

“It’s funny, I wasn’t able to tell you back then because I think I just couldn’t…believe it? This sounds so stupid but I just felt—feel…I still feel that it’d be impossible for someone like you to like someone like me,” he looks down and picks at his fingers.

“You say that as if you’re so bad.”

“Come on Y/N. Do you know anyone else who would use “heyyy queen” in a professional setting?”

You both laugh at the memory of his message to Doyoung. The laughter trails off and you both look ahead.

“I also don’t know anyone else who would bring me coffee every morning because they know I don’t sleep well. Or anyone else who would ask their manager to work overtime so I’m not alone during my night shifts.”

He gawks at you, unaware that you had noticed his acts of service that he tried to brush off as coincidences.

“Hyuck.”

“Y/N.”

“You said you think you’ve always had feelings for me right?”

“Correct,” he raises his brow.

“Well,” you sigh, bracing yourself, “I know I’ve always had feelings for you.”

His eyes bulge out of his head and it reminds you of your first encounter with him at the convenience store. You start laughing quietly to yourself at first, but the longer he stayed silent the louder you became.

“Is this…a prank?” He speaks up after what felt like decades of silence.

“What? No. I’m laughing because this is the second time I’ve confessed to you. You’re the only person I’ve confessed to in my entire lifetime,” You manage to breathe out between fits of laughter, and he stares at you with nothing but confusion.

“So you currently like me?” He points at himself as he speaks.

“Yeah, that’s what I said.”

“You-“

“Yep.”

“Like-“

“Mhm.”

“Me?” His eyebrows are drawn together as he points between you two.

“Yep, that’s about right,” you answer calmly.

“What about Jaehyun? Do you know how much journaling Jaemin made me do just so I could come to terms with the fact that you like him?” He sputters.

“Hyuck, one of the first things Jaehyun knew about me was that I’ve liked you since high school. We got closer because he was trying to help me with you.”

His expression is unreadable for a moment, before his features soften and he seems to melt in relief. He pulls you into his arms and your heart jumps at the sudden contact.

“Thank you,” he mumbles into your hair.

“For?”

“Liking me. Waiting for me. All of it,” he confesses as he gently sways you both back and forth.

You both stay like this for a while, neither of you wanting to leave the warmth of the other. It isn’t until your phone buzzes in your pocket do you reluctantly pull away.

“It’s Karina. She’s asking where I am,” You speak quietly as you read the message on your phone.

“You should head back inside then,” he frowns, removing the blanket from his shoulders and wrapping it around you.

“Don’t stay up too late,” you point your finger at him and he nods. “We’ll talk more tomorrow?”

He smiles at you with a nod of reassurance, and you slide the glass door open to leave.

“Oh, and Hyuck?” You turn to him one more time and he raises his eyebrows, prompting you to continue.

You raise yourself onto your tippy toes and plant a kiss on his cheek.

“Goodnight,” you smile sweetly at his frozen form before walking back into the living room and sliding the door shut.

As you get ready to turn the corner towards your shared room with Karina, you peek over at the balcony one last time to see Donghyuck pumping his fists in the air before clasping them together and staring up at the sky as if talking to God.

You wonder if it would have ever been possible for you to stop liking him.

wc: a little over 1.2k my bad😓

ch. 22: y/nhyuckism

masterlist（＾＿＾）☆

notes: not proofread but i looooove this chapter sm !!! i hope u love it as much as i do my dears

taglist: @dojaejunging @nosungluv @snflwrhaerecs4u @foxy-kitsune @haecnh @jising-jisang-jisung @soobunsbun @bath1lda @haechansbbg @hamjwis @hancafe @wonbin-truther @beomgyusonlywife @sehunniepot @jaeyunluvbot @multifandomania @https-yeonjun @swee7dream @woshixinqgiu @defzcl @heheheeral @meowtella @grassbutneo @beommii @jinostooth

[seoulmatez]

— 𝓂𝓎 𝑔𝒾𝓇𝓁 ౨ৎ

boothill x f!reader. 1.9k wc. ﾉ sfw ﾉ  fluff ﾉ non-canon compliant ﾉ farmhand!boothill ﾉ reader is intoxicated ﾉ pet names ( little lady, darlin’, sweetheart ) ﾉ jealous boothill :3

a/n: this is an extra to my farmhand boothill series but can be read as a standalone :)

“woah, you might wanna slow down, little lady.” boothill’s voice sounds in your ear, louder than the cacophony of music and competing voices in the cramped bar. the vibration sends a chill down your spine and you giggle as you lean away from him—though the task proves to be a bit difficult with his arm wrapped around you. you should be glad he’s holding onto you, otherwise you would have ended up on the sticky floor trying to create some distance.

it’s been a while since you’ve been out to a bar, since you’ve had alcohol at all, really. that much is abundantly clear to boothill as he watches you from your side. your head is beginning to loll to the side, your eyelashes lazily kiss the tops of your cheeks with every flutter of your drooping eyelids, and there’s a lazy smile pulling at your lips. the man would be lying if he said the sight wasn’t endearing, but his plan for tonight hadn’t been for you to get drunk.

work has been stressful for you the past week, he’s noticed, so his intention for the night was simply to loosen you up and maybe teach you how to shoot pool to get your mind off the demands of the job, but it seems that boothill severely overestimated your alcohol tolerance. there’s no way he’ll be able to teach you the game without you tipping over and he certainly doesn’t trust you to hold a pool cue in this state.

“i think we’ve had enough fun here tonight,” boothill tells you, sitting you up with one arm and waving down the bartender with another. he asks the woman behind the bar for a glass of water and a personal request—that she keep an eye on you for a short moment. she fulfills both of his asks, sliding a glass sweating with condensation in front of you and telling boothill to go take care of his business. “drink this and don’t get up from this seat, alright? i’ll be right back, darlin’.”

“where are you going?” you ask, dipping your head down to take the straw between your lips. you glance up at him with curiosity swimming in your eyes as you take slow sips of the cold water.

“bathroom.” he sets a heavy hand on your head, smoothing your hair down. “i’ll be quick, promise.”

“mkay,” you hum. your focus turns to the cup in front of you, eyes following the way the water level lessens with each of your sips. boothill snorts—it doesn’t look like you’ll be getting into any trouble in the few minutes he’ll be gone.

you’re only able to tell he’s left when the weight on your head disappears.

without his voice and touch to ground you, your mind wanders. a song you haven’t heard before but you’re sure boothill has fills the room. balls from the pool table clank together and thud when they drop into the pockets. and the voices—there are much too many to really focus on any. a group of girls drunker than you belt along to the song, though, the lyrics they sing are partially delayed. a man swears while another hoots in celebration signaling the end of a game at one of the green tables.

“are you here by yourself, pretty girl?” the voice is far closer than any others you hear and despite it not being one you’re familiar with, you spin the stool you’re seated on in its direction at one of the many names boothill has settled on calling you. long white hair that grows darker at the tips doesn’t greet you, however, a man has filled the seat to your right.

it takes his consistent stare for you to register that his question was directed at you.

“no.” you shake your head and it feels like your brain wobbles with it. you speak loud enough so that you can hear yourself, so that you don’t stumble over your words. “my boyfriend is with me.”

the man makes a show of looking over your shoulder to the empty seat behind you. “this boyfriend of yours isn’t imaginary, is he?”

you cover your mouth with a hand to hide a laugh. what a ridiculous thought, you think. boothill might just be the realest thing you know. there’s no way you could think up his charm, his compassion, his humor—none of it. he’s so unapologetically him that it would be impossible for him to be merely a result of your imagination.

“he’s very real,” you assure the man with a definite nod. “he just went to the bathroom.”

at least, that’s what you think he said.

“well, i can’t imagine leaving a girl as pretty as you all by her lonesome.” the man shoots you a smile but it doesn’t make your heart flip like when boothill does. you have a hard time believing anyone besides him could have that effect on you. still, because you’re polite and happy, you offer the man a small smile, one that doesn’t meet your eyes. “how about i keep you company while your boyfriend is away?”

your head is light and maybe you aren’t in the best state of mind due to the alcohol, but you’re sober enough to know that it isn’t the best idea to spend time with this unknown man. you prepare to tell him that boothill will be back any minute and that you’re confident that you can fend for yourself until then but the moment you part your lips to do so, that familiar weight is back on your head.

“no need, buddy.” there’s an audible difference in the voice you’ve come to know—it’s deeper, not laced with its usual lighthearted kindness. the stray from his norm is enough to make you look up to meet his eye. his irises are darker, like storm clouds a second away from raging. despite the severity of his gaze, his lips are curled up in a grin, one directed at the man. “my girl doesn’t need your company.”

you try to fight the smile that threatens your lips at the title—my girl.

the man doesn’t share your sentiment. in fact, the smile he had painted on for you all but drops at boothill’s arrival. “i think the lady can speak for herself.”

you can hear boothill’s tongue click in annoyance from above you. his hand has fallen from your head to rest protectively on the small of your back. even without looking at him, you’re sure that the grin he put on simply as a courtesy has disappeared. you wouldn’t be surprised to peer up and find a scowl in its place.

you’ve never seen the nasty side of boothill—never given him a reason to show you. but you don’t doubt that this guy implying that you’d rather stay with him than your boyfriend might be all it takes to turn the gentlemanly farmhand into a problematic patron. the tension between the two is growing with every second so, in an effort to stop boothill from escalating the situation, you hop down from your stool and take a tight hold of his arm.

“we’re gonna go!” you shout over the music, perhaps a little louder than necessary. you tug on boothill’s arm as you start toward the one door of the establishment. he doesn’t resist—he’d much rather leave with you than waste any more time on that asshat.

a rush of evening air hits the both of you as you push the door open, causing goosebumps to break out over your arms almost immediately. the drastic change is welcome, though—you much prefer this over the stuffy warmth of the bar. and something tells you boothill could use the opportunity to cool off.

it doesn’t take you long to reach his truck but the walk is a quiet one. if you weren’t holding onto him, you might not even know he was there. the silence is uncharacteristic but he’s sure to open your door for you like always. he helps you up to your seat but, instead of sitting down properly, you take a seat with your legs dangling out the door. boothill raises a questioning eyebrow.

“are you mad?” you can’t help but pout as you ask him. you didn’t think talking to that guy would be such a big deal but clearly the exchange left a bad taste in boothill’s mouth. you can understand why he had no desire to smile at that man but don’t you deserve his smiles? “i was gonna tell him to go away.”

“i’m not mad, sweetheart.” he places a hand on your knee and gives it a comforting squeeze. the streetlight casts a shadow over his face, hiding a tiny smile that he wears for your sake.

his answer should be satisfying enough but alcohol makes you curious and this curious variant of yours wants to know what’s going on in boothill’s head.

“then… you’re jealous?” you propose. the suggestion draws a chuckle from boothill’s chest. he doesn’t confirm nor deny the silly thought so you continue. “you thought that guy would just swoop in and sweep your darlin’ off her feet?”

boothill knows you’re kidding around but that had been exactly what he thought when he returned to the counter to find someone talking you up. he can’t blame the guy for trying—of course people are drawn to you. he had been the first time he listened to your grandpa speak so fondly of you, even more so when he first laid eyes on you. all that considered, he was still beyond pissed to see someone hitting on you so boldly.

he wished everyone knew you were his.

jealousy… he can’t say he’s ever experienced the feeling. perhaps it calls for a little self-reflection but as far as boothill is concerned, that can wait. he steps closer to you, until there’s barely any space between your knees and his body. a hand comes up to cradle your face, calloused thumb caressing your cheekbone. his next words are meant to be a joke but he finds that he’s hanging on to your answer before he’s even able to ask. “did he? sweep you off your feet?”

“not a chance,” you tell him, the pout from earlier returning to your lips. how absurd, you think, that he would ever entertain such a thought. you’re tempted to flick him, hoping the little gesture will knock some sense into the man, but you don’t. instead, you reach up and around his neck, fingers tangling in the hair at his nape, and pull him close. forehead to forehead, you whisper, “i wouldn’t pick anyone over you.”

the smile you’ve been waiting for—a genuine one, the kind that stretches wide and showcases the imperfections of his teeth—finally takes over boothill’s face. warm breath fans over your face with his hushed laugh. “‘s that so?”

“mhm,” you hum, closing the short distance between you to press a kiss to his lips. he holds you there a bit longer than you intended but you let him, relishing the feeling of his soft lips against yours. he pulls away a moment later, though neither of you makes a move to separate from the other.

“you’re the only one i want, boothill.”

thanks for reading! if u enjoyed, please consider reblogging or commenting ❤︎

[worksby-d]

Your Age is Showing

Pairing: Andy Barber x fem!Reader

Summary: Your Halloween costume makes Andy's old man brain short circuit, but he’ll get over it.

Warnings: Age gap

Word count: ~400

Ghost kitty divider by @youngadulhood 🤭

Making your way downstairs, you grab your sweatshirt off the railing, the one that Andy always jokingly threatens to throw away if you don’t start hanging it up. 

Laughing to yourself, you take the last few steps toward where he’s sitting at the kitchen island, working as always. 

“You’re sure you don’t wanna come with?” You ask, draping your arms over his shoulders to lean down and kiss his cheek. 

You know what his answer will be, but you like teasing him. A Halloween party definitely isn’t his scene, and you’re completely fine with that. When you brought it up to him a month ago, he told you he wanted you to go and have enough fun for the both of you. 

“I’m sure,” he chuckles. He brings a hand up to rest over yours on his chest. “Too late to get a costume now anyway. Which, speaking of…”

He hasn’t seen your costume yet.

Turning around in his barstool, his eyes widen instantly seeing how skimpy your outfit is. He doesn’t know what he expected, but it certainly wasn’t the short denim shorts and tied-up plaid top that’s barely keeping your boobs in place. 

“Cowgirl,” you wink, tipping your cowboy hat at him.

“That’s your costume?” His eyes wander to your exposed midriff. “Where’s the rest of it?”

You can’t help but laugh, putting your fingers underneath his jaw to force his mouth closed. 

“Your age is showing, babe.”

“There’s a lot more than my age showing right now,” he scoffs and you playfully hit him.

You pout, pretending to care about the stunned look on his face. “You really don’t like it?”

“Won’t you be cold?” 

The smirk that he’s trying to suppress tells you that he’s fucking with you now and you shoot him a glare. 

His gaze softens, and he reaches out to pull you closer, resting his hands on your ass as you lean down to kiss him. 

“Easy, partner,” you giggle, pulling away from him when you feel him deepening the kiss, warning him with a fake southern accent.

“I’m teasing,” he says softly, dropping his hands from your backside to hold yours. “I’d rather nobody else look at you the way I am right now, but…” He shrugs. “I know who you’re coming home to later, so that’s all that matters.”

“You’re sure?” 

“Of course.”

“Good,” you smile. “I didn’t want to take it off. That’s your job when I get back in a couple hours.” You bat your eyelashes at him and quickly escape his hold before he can trap you in place. “Bye, baby!”

Tag list: @patzammit @denisemarieangelina @thummbelina @pppsssyyyccchhhiiiccc @astheskycries @chris-evans-indian-fanfic @la-cey @turtoix @katiew1973 @harrysthiccthighss @tvckerlance @rocketrhap3000 @mrspeacem1nusone @murdcox @geminievans1 @doozywoozy @americasass91 @dwights-new-plague @wwwmarissa92 @redhairedfeistynerd @whxre4cevans @aubreeskailynn @white-wolf1940 @melchills-j @xoxabs88xox @before-we-get-started @chrissquares @christowhore @ice-dtae @mariestark @justile @rogersbarber @dilfbarber @livstilinski @payperhearts @vintagestarlight @gitasor @chaeycunty @miss-ariella @bemysugarbean @t-stark35 @seitmai @reginaphalange2403 @raelorns21 @mrsgweasley @pandaxnienke @brandycranby

[reizoudesu]

day two - dancing in the rain / chilling under the covers

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ context: it’s raining today; you and your lover had nothing else to do; nothing could satiate your boredom!

until an idea hits you— go outside and play, or stay hidden in the sheets. will you risk yourself (and your partner) catching a cold, or remain safely in the comfort of their embrace, inside your homely paradise?

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ fandom/s: genshin impact

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ character/s: aether, venti, kazuha, heizou, xiao, wanderer

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ genre/s: fluffily fluff 

notes: i’m back with self-made prompt. our internet at home was being a meanie six (or more) days ago (we literally lost signal for THAT long), so apologies for the lack of response TT

heads-up/warnings: not proofread, (y/n) is a stubborn ahh in other scenarios, lowercase letters (except in one particular part in heizou's, it had caps on ;) ), long paragraphs, wanderer is named “kuni,” kuni wants cuddles (he’s greedy af), affectionate nicknames (aether - love; venti - little windblume, dear; kazuha - love, baby; heizou - darling; wanderer/kuni - dork, babe)

©reizoudesu

do not copy, steal, mark as your own work (but feel free to repost <3)

-ˏ͛⑅　‧̥̥͙‧̥̥ ̥ ̮ ̥ ⊹ ‧̫‧ ⊹ ̥ ̮ ̥ ‧̥̥‧̥̥͙　⑅ˏ͛-

“are you sure? it’s pouring quite hard out there…” aether - cautious, but eventually gives up and goes with you

you peer out the open window of the living room, the soft pitter-patter of rain falls upon the roof down to the ground, coupled with the occasional clanking of the plates across the room, you just ate, yet you were getting impatient, but for what reason? you were probably bored…

“love, are you okay?” asked the blonde as he looked at you, eyes of topaz and that sweet smile on his lips. you smile back and let him embrace you, fully enveloped in his arms. “bored…” you mutter dully, gazing at the dreary weather. “yeah, it’s gotten so cold lately,” aether added with a frown, a soft hum as he caressed your hair. until… your eyes met his, an idea formed inside that imaginative brain of yours.

“…ah, don’t give me that look,” he sighs, and you giggle in response. “i wanna go out and play in the rain,” and as expected, he gazes at you with eyebrows furrowed, “are you sure? it’s pouring quite hard out there…”

but the rain looks so pretty… “i can’t wait here any longer, and besides, it’s only a drizzle!” you try to convince him, but he only gave you a shake of his head, a gentle smile of concern still plastered.

“(y/n), you might catch a cold,” aether limply replies, “that won’t convince me from having fun with my boyfriend!” you were a stubborn one, that’s for sure. it’s obvious your lover finds your personality endearing yet frustrating at the same time. eventually, after half a minute of persuading did aether finally give up trying to argue with you, and ran off to another room. confused, you follow him, until he brings out a pair of raincoats with a grin.

“wouldn’t want you to get wet, would we? c’mon love, let’s head out.”

he wasn’t sure why, but this wasn’t just your persuasion that draws him in. he recalled having his twin sister lumine asking the same request when they were kids. seeing you happy�� prancing about in the rain in your adorable transparent raincoat glistening in the rain— was the same warmth he felt when he took lumine out of the open the same way he did.

suddenly, a loud crash of thunder scared the living daylights out of you, and you ran back to aether for fortress. he got scared as well, and you two huddle together.

"did you hear that?!" "y-yeah, i did..."

for some reason, you didn't want to let go of your boyfriend, and you were crumbling like fine powder in the midst of a storm. aether was about to laugh at this yet he refrained, seeing your shocked figure tremoring like a maraca in his grip. putting a hand under your chin to lift your head towards him, he beamed warmly, and now, you were looking at a bright sunshine of a smile he's wearing.

"don't worry. i'm not going anywhere."

he’ll cherish this moment forever, hold it inside his heart as if his memories made themselves home within it.

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“who cares when we get drenched? let’s keep playing!” venti - energetic and thrilled, a sunshine in the rain

ah, the ever-radiant venti, who finds the positives in all the negatives, the rays of light in complete darkness. how did he even deserve your love? basically, the weather is gloomy, and you two had the same frequencies of ennui, which means, you two are very, very bored.

right now, you two are at home, lying next to each other on the couch like two lazy dogs, with him frequently twirling at his braids of teal while you skim through the book you’ve read twice. you cast your gaze at the window, the grey clouds drearily casting a shadow over Mondstadt. it’s merely a light drizzle, but it’s still enough to make one shiver to the bone.

“oh wait! i have an idea,” you blurt out, abandoning the book onto the coffee table, and your cheerful boyfriend perks up at your voice filled with excitement once again. “ah, little windblume! what’s your idea?”

“what if… we go outside in the rain?” you ask him, and his dark eyes lit up with joy, as always. “i have a better one! we can even go out in our raincoats and stomp in the puddles! haha, i like that, my dear (y/n)~”

and so, you did. you went out with your matching raincoats, with you holding the parasol that could cover two people at most. you two were practically children playing outside a stormy weather, jumping in puddles, without a single care in their lives. 

you were starting to worry when the wind suddenly blew away your parasol, and in an instinct, you chased after it, only for the wind to carry it upwards, far, far from the hands could reach until it nested neatly on the roof of the angel’s share. “i lost my umbrella! we might get sick at this rate!” 

despite this, venti was a little surprised but still grins at you. at this point, you can’t tell if it’s just the wind or was it all your lover’s doing. you shot a glare at his mischief, and he laughs. as always, it should be him. but he managed to apologize a second later “sorry, it’s just that you’re holding back from having so much fun.” 

this caught you completely off guard, but he steps closer and told you this:

“who cares when we get drenched? let’s keep playing!” venti cheerfully declares, putting up his hood and putting his hands in yours. they were damp, but warmer that you thought.

yes, nothing is more enjoyable than reliving a happy memory in a perceived sad scene with your beloved boyfriend.

(you two got really sick right after and jean came to nurse you ‘till full health)

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“nothing is better than a downpour after a moment of a sunny adventure.” kazuha - doesn’t mind one bit, also concerned for your safety, but likes a moment of adventure with you

despite having rented yourselves a home, you two wanted to roam around Inazuma, taking breaks by seeking shelter under trees, canopies of restaurants and houses, or abandoned camps set by treasure hoarders. though you initially thought this is dangerous, he always assured that you both have the blades in your hands for protection. until one day, kazuha tugs at your hand with a warning, right when you hear the faint fore-coming of a storm; “rain is coming… let’s go find shelter.”

kazuha has a knack for predicting the weather by the wind picking up its pace, the few drops of rain from afar, the faintest rumbling of thunder that declares the glory of the Almighty Shogun, the dark monochrome clouds enveloping the once-blue skies. that’s just how perceptive your boyfriend. you’ll have to thank him for that later.

unfortunately, luck is not on your side today, because you were settling right under a tree as you two found nothing. the only shade that served you well was the branches of the old oak tree covered completely in green leaves. he eventually picks up on your shivering; you forgot to bring your raincoat— but he wrapped an arm around your shoulder and waist, and in an instant, your blush deepens; not from the cold, but from kazuha’s warmth.

“you’re shivering, baby,” kazuha whispers, his kind smile and his scarlet eyes making your heart melt. how could a ronin like him be so gentle with you as his partner? he’s no fighter, he is a lover. like always, he enjoys a moment of solace with you in the chaos. he even composed a few haikus to the rhythm of the rain, waiting in intervals to let a few drops fall to the ground with a small splash.

despite the shivering, you were okay, at least warmer than before. you couldn’t come up with conversational topics, but one thought occurred to you.

“kazu, what if… we just have to go in the rain and search for more shelter?” that question made him raise his eyebrows in thought and concern, “hm? are you sure, (y/n)? we can’t have you catching a cold, not in this state.”

“well, it’s not pouring that hard," you tell him with a smile. that fire of determination in your eyes was hard to extinguish, and kazuha was pretty much drawn to it in a way as if he was a moth to her flame. "pretty please?"

kazuha gazes back at you, and immediately concluded that he was done. he sighed and gave only a defeated beam; "alright, just stay close to me and i'll keep you covered, okay love?"

you and your lover took the risk as you ran deep into the storm, the cold air hitting your faces along with the pouring rain. the ground was slippery, and you found yourself slipping while kazuha ended up almost tumbling over you, your screams echoing each other as you fell right upon a puddle of the concrete floor.

for a moment, your eyes meet into a matching emotion of shock, your frame hovering over his own as he lay drenched in the puddle, before you began to snort. kazuha brushed his bangs away from his face and grinned in amusement.

"what's so funny?" "nothing, i think i like the view from up here."

that remark made him flush in a slight red, and he laughed louder. the happiness was utterly contagious, so contagious you could shed tears.

“nothing is better than a downpour after a moment of a sunny adventure.”

maybe he's right. even beauty lies within a mess of life's storm.

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵︵‿︵‿︵‿︵︵‿︵‿︵‿︵︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

“c’mon, let’s head over there, i think i know a good spot around here.” heizou - yes, absolutely yes. a mundane day turned perfect because of one main ingredient: you

"why hello there, darling," the detective greeted, and you nod with a smile, "hi, heizou!" you just came back from finishing a commission when it started pouring, along with a few thundering that rang in your ears.

"i reckon you just finished a commission? from tsurumi island, i presume?" heizou asked, noticing your troubled look. yes, indeed, the anguish you wore tells the tale that you hated doing that request ever again.

"yeah," you weakly told him, wiping away the rainwater from your hair before heizou hands you a towel and sits next to you. "actually, you're in for a treat! i was just about to head to ritou to investigate... and i could use a pair of hands..."

as always, you like a little adventure with your beloved detective, so you pushed yourself to go. "sure, two heads are better than one." you say, a smile playing on your lips.

but there's one problem... the rain.

"hang on, with this weather, you certainly aren't planning to get us both drenched, right?" you ask skeptically, and he eyed you with a gleam. ah, that look on his face again.

"man alive, you don't trust me that easily, huh? too bad i brought your favorite raincoat.," he unfolds the garment with a feigned sigh, "oh well, guess we'll just have to tuck it away again-"

"actually-! i can keep that," you stopped him, yanking it off from his hands before he could go inside and return it to your room.

you two ventured out into the woods, with your lover going on a small tangent about the case he solved. sneaking past the guards and bumping into gorou, you listened through the whole thing, even if all of it was going nowhere. besides, he just can't help it when you two were basically attached by the hip.

with little time, the rain poured harder, and you were hanging onto the last of your raincoat hoodie, until he looks at the spot nearby. “c’mon, let’s head over there, i think i know a good spot around here.”

and there it is, the harbor. the wood that makes the port where the shore meets the ocean. you look around, not noticing heizou lagging behind you, there's nothing but empty houses, fallen leaves, and the empty area that surrounds the island, "i don't see anything," you say, confused, until he tugs at your arm with a cheeky smile.

"shh, quickly now," he shushes you, and right on the exact fourth beat-

CRASH!!

a lightning hit the surface of the ocean, and a sudden thrill creeps up your spine from the flash. he eventually held you tightly, arms framing your waist like a protective shield, hidden behind a cold concrete wall where your heads can only be seen.

"...you brought me here just to traumatize me, do you?" "oh come on, the look on your face says otherwise."

it's irritating that you're a little more amazed than scared. you were scared, but heizou's embrace took that uneasiness away from you. there was no case, just a little bonding together with your boyfriend.

"i still don't forgive you for lying. but just don't move an inch and we're good. okay?"

"i won't. anything for you."

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“…are you serious? you might catch a cold.” xiao - he won’t let you get sick; not once, not ever

it's true that demons don't stop for the rain, as xiao told you not too long ago. but the idea of going right into a commotion of a storm confused him. you suggested the idea as he was just about to leave the wangshu inn to have a moment of solitude.

"you mortals sure have the audacity to do such activities," he commented with a furrowed gaze, "why did you even suggest that?"

"ever heard of relaxation and fun?" you asked rather stubbornly, yet xiao only gave you a grunt in response, not believing you.

"playing in the rain doesn't even spark any joy in me," he flatly declined, yet you gave him a look; here comes the begging again, "come onnn! at this rate, you even have to point out all the good things you can get from playing in the rain.

"people can stomp around in puddles, take a small shower, anything of that sort! love, come on, just give it a chance!"

"...are you serious? you might catch a cold," xiao stares bewildered at you, and he's also irritated by the idea of you being so reckless and getting into danger. defeated, you slump in your seat, the couch carrying your pouty stature. he looks away, a little guilty for having to put up with you all the time, but he really doesn't want you to go.

"listen," he began, uncrossing his arms as he gazes at you with a grim look, "i don't want you to get in trouble. not after what happened."

so he remembered, you did get sick after scouting the harbor with beidou on a rainy afternoon. it's a silly thought, but you remained frowning at him. "fiiine..."

sighing, you lie on the couch, and the yaksha looks at you shortly before heading outside, not without an order, "stay here, i'll be back."

you wondered what your lover would do, it's raining, yet he wanted you to stay. despite this, you were getting bored to death, so you decided to sleep a wink this afternoon.

you couldn't remember the last time you slept this long, and your sense of smell picked up on xiao's presence beside you. before even realizing it, he had lifted your head and put your head against a pillow, and you heard him place a platter on the coffee table before his parting footsteps.

thinking he was gone, you rose and stretched from the couch, and you smelled... almond tofu. there was a note attached, written in fancy handwriting.

"enjoy your lunch, (y/n)" - xiao

your heart fluttered and you hastily took the hot bowl of the meal and ate with soft, savory bites as the food melted in your tongue. in the distance, xiao is watching, leaning against the wall of the room, his face heating up in red hue as a ghost of a smile make its way on his face.

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“hmph, how childish. just stay inside, you don't want to get sick, do you?” kuni - thinks it’s too childish, but he’s just feeling cranky and greedy; he doesn’t want you to leave

"kuni, just once!" you wailed in protest, on your knees, clutching the pillow in front of you just to act cute, but kuni was not buying it. he growled in annoyance, "i said no."

you tried everything. coax him with tea, nothing; getting him to leave the bed (either pulling, pushing, or dragging), nothing; threatening by ignoring him, nothing; giving him an embrace, he hesitantly complies with another hug, but still nothing. making him get out of bed from the storm is closest to impossible.

you slumped behind the leg of the bed and groaned in defeat. that little dastard... your boyfriend being like this as always.

he knew you so much that he could memorize your antics, much to your disappointment.

"kuniii! get out of bed!!" you scream with a frustrated groan, and kuni replied with an exasperated tone, "just why did you want to make me leave the bed?"

it's stupid, but you had to try, "i like the rain, okay? it's stupid, but i wanna go out and play!" that made him stop, but he clicked his tongue and crossed his arms.

"hmph, how childish," you hear him say. finally, you gave up trying. he's not leaving anytime soon, so you grumpily plop on the bed next to him.

"you're such a killjoy." "..."

you heard him sigh, and then a sudden force drags you back up to bed, a surprised gasp escaping you as he put his head on your shoulder, a small groan.

"playing in the rain won't get you anywhere, you'll only get yourself sick," he grumbled, as if he's chiding you. you know that, but what significance does it even hold? you're getting so bored.

he picks up on your boredom and turned you around, his violet eyes meeting yours, and you blushed as crimson as a rose in full bloom. it always spurred a reaction out of him, a small grin tugging at his lips, but going serious once more.

"just stay inside, you don't want to get sick, do you?" he requested, forming a small tint of pink in his cheeks as he held you closer for comfort. the only thing you could think right now is probably:

"archons, kuni, what's gotten into you?"

despite this, you comply to his request and just bury your head into his shoulder, arms wrapped around his frame as the two of you remained cuddling in the bed.

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©reizoudesu

[asoiafsworld]

BELONG TO YOU - one

pairing; ellie williams x fem!reader

summary; you're new on campus and ellie notices you. despite your shyness and struggles of being anti social, you can't help but fall in love with her.

warnings and tags; modern!au, college!au, dealer!ellie, reader is shy, anxiety, depression, fluff, angst, eventual smut, touch starvation, ellie has a dick in this, reader is also pretty innocent, might make a kink out of it, drug abuse, obsessiveness, love at first sight kinda thing

author's note; i folded. im finally writing for my lovely ellie and feel like this is the worst thing i have ever written lmao. i was going to write all of this in like a very long one chapter thing but i literally can't so here's what u get. not even sure if i wanna continue this but if u guys like it i might. thanks for reading, pls tell me what u think of it <3

two

You feel lost.

You’re new to this place, new to this city, new to these people. You never expected to get away from your past, awful life and you’re still not sure if you have. Because you look around and observe the people at campus, see everyone with their friend groups or romantic partners and feel so utterly alone. You always have been, always too shy to talk to someone and too awkward to hold a conversation… or a friendship. Not that anyone ever thought you were worth being friends with.

It’s always been suffocating, this loneliness, this darkness that overtakes your mind when it’s quiet and you’re alone. You get that feeling when you sit under a tree in the park on campus and watch and observe the people around you. It’s not like you’re being ignored, you would have to be acknowledged first to be ignored. But people walking past you and not giving a single fuck about your existence is somewhat hurtful. One guy even stepped on your book earlier and didn’t even apologize to you. It was closed, thankfully, but it made you keep your things closer to you, making your little bubble smaller than it already is. You take a deep breath and look away from the crowded park and back down on your notes, distracting yourself from your self deprecating thoughts.

The moment that you look down, she looks up. Ellie’s gaze only wanders over you for a split second and she was going to let her gaze go over the park and the many people that she knows and sells to. But her brain works a second later than her eyes do so she looks back to the lone figure sitting under the tree, hair spilling down as your eyes sharply go over the notebook in your hands. Ellie is mesmerized for some reason, unable to look away from you and your pretty face and your legs enveloped in bright blue jeans and your fingers tracing the words on your book and your breasts pushing up as you breath-

“Earth to Ellie? Hello? You having a stroke or something?” Her eyes break away forcefully from you to look at her friend, Dina, who is looking at her with a questioning but amused glint in her eyes. Her mouth is working faster than her brain so the question doesn’t fully register until she says it.

“Do you know who that is? The girl under the tree? Never seen her before.” Dina’s eyebrows raise at the question and she turns around to look at where Ellie’s eyes have strayed to once more. She watches you take out your pen from your bag and scribble something down on your notebook, your lips puckering as you’re writing. It’s as if you don’t realize how pretty your lips look like this, how Ellie has to restrain her mind from thinking of something totally inappropriate. She doesn’t even know you, not even your name but the way you sit there all alone and almost helplessly lonely makes something in her stir. You shouldn’t be alone when she knows how many disgusting boys are at this college, even if it’s at a park with so many people out on a sunny day.

“Yeah, she’s new, moved into the empty room at the end of our hall. Pretty sure she’s next to your room.” Dina has turned her head back around and can’t hide the little smirk that forms on her face when she sees Ellie staring. She takes another second to let her eyes linger on you, on how gorgeous you look when the sun shines down on you before she stands up. She walks towards you with confidence and determination, not even entirely sure why. You just look so pretty to her, the way you sit there and study whilst everyone else is doing anything but studying. Something in her gut and in her chest stirs when she sees you sitting alone and looking seemingly sad. She doesn't think that anyone else notices but she sees that you look a little helpless, like a lost puppy not knowing where to go.

For some reason, she wants you to go to her.

You don’t realize that someone stands in front of you until a shadow is cast over you and your book, making it difficult to see your notes. When you look up, you see a tall girl in a crew neck shirt and an unbuttoned denim work shirt over it. She’s wearing faded blue jeans and blue converse, her brown, shoulder length hair partially tied to keep it out of her face. Her eyes are pale green and piercing as she looks down on you, the gaze in her eyes so intense but looking at you with all the ease in the world. Your heart races at this, so unused to someone looking at you or approaching you. You grip your book tightly to keep yourself from getting up and running away and hope she says something before you have to.

“Hi. Mind if I sit next to you?” Her voice sounds clear as she speaks, no hesitation or doubt in the way she speaks and even stands in front of you. You’re taken aback by her question and desperately suppress the urge to ask why she wants to be next to you. You don’t know her, only remember that she lives in the room next to yours and that there’s always people coming and going out of her room. You’ve seen her recieve money at her door sometimes in exchange for… god knows what she is giving other people, you wouldn’t know. You nod slowly and try not to look overly confused at her as she sits down right next to you, the body heat she radiates so close to you that it almost throws you off. You don’t know the last time someone sat this close to you and don’t want to think further about the feeling you often feel when you watch other people hug or kiss each other or hold hands. Touch starving, that’s what the internet called it when you googled it. You know that it’s true because you do not remember the last time you hugged someone or felt physical touch in any form. You feel so embarrassed when you accidentally brush against someone in the hallways because most of the time, your body craves more of that touch.

You are unsure of what to do now with someone sitting next to you, your breath held in carefully as if the world would shatter if you breathed out. Why is she sitting next to you? Did you do something wrong? You stare down at the book in your lap but can’t really think when there’s someone, a very pretty girl actually, sitting right next to you. There’s a slight breeze that hits you from the side and it carries the girl's scent with it, earthy and lemony from something that you can’t place. You like the smell, it suits her. You turn your head slightly and see that she’s been looking at you this entire time, the gaze in her eyes studying you and a small smile formed on her lips. God, she’s so gorgeous, it truly takes your breath away. She proceeds to hold a hand out to you and you look down to it before looking back up.

“I’m Ellie.” She says and and you smile slightly at how sweet she seems, introducing herself to a complete stranger. You briefly wonder how lonely you must have looked for Ellie to approach you and try not to think about it for too long. You tell her your name, your voice a little too shaky and too unsure, as if you just came up with your own name. You put your hand into hers and dig your finger into your palm on your other hand because this much body contact is not something you are used to. Your hand is smaller than hers and it looks tiny in her bigger, warmer hand. You almost don’t want to let go because her warmth and touch make something stir in your gut, something comforting and wholesome that you don’t know if you’ve ever felt before. It takes a lot of willpower for you to break your hand away from hers, willing to let it stay in hers for as long as she would let you but you shouldn’t scare her off right away.

“So, you’re pretty new here. What’s your major?” Ellie is captivated by the girl in front of her. You are even prettier up close and Ellie has a hard time not looking at your lips constantly or your tiny hand that fits into hers twice over. You look confused and helpless, even if you try to hide it and it makes Ellie’s heart hurt a little. Why do you seem so scared of even talking to anyone? And why is Ellie so interested in you? She doesn’t know why she even came over here but the moment she saw you, every nerve in her brain only had one goal: to talk to you. You look at her with an unreadable look in our eyes and nervously brush your hair behind your ear.

“Uhm, M-marine Biology.” You feel heat rise to your cheeks at your stutter and hope she doesn’t notice it. She seems perceptive enough that she probably does but also tactful enough to not comment on it. Her eyebrows raise a little at your answer and you hope she doesn’t think it’s lame. You don’t know why you don’t want her to think you’re lame.

“Marine biology… That’s pretty cool.” Your heart does a little flip at the way she draws her words out and you can hear a slight accent in her voice. It sounds southern but it’s not that noticeable. “So, you like fish?”

The question is so silly that it takes you aback and you do something that you never do in front of other people; you giggle. You hope it doesn’t sound stupid to her because it certainly does to you and you quickly bite your lip to stop yourself. You look at her again and now have a small smile on your lips that seems to make her smile in return. She’s so incredibly attractive, the way she sits with her knees drawn up and her hair tied back and her eyes looking at you in a certain way that you can’t describe.

“Yeah, I guess I do. What’s your major?” You mentally give yourself a pat on the back for your progress on socializing but talking to someone like this is still unknown territory for you. You’re still incredibly nervous next to her and hope you don’t say something stupid.

“Fine arts. Was always interested in it, I draw a lot and I guess I’m pretty good at it… or something.” The way Ellie bashfully scratches the back of her head and blushes at the last part makes your chest feel warm, for whatever reason. She seems like an artistic kind of person, the tattoos on her arms catching your attention and wondering if she drew them herself. She must be talented, you think to yourself. How couldn’t she be with hands like hers.

You are distracted by the sound of her name being called and look towards a girl with dark hair and sharp, memorable features. She’s pretty, very pretty and looks at Ellie impatiently. You wonder if that’s her girlfriend, certain of Ellie being gay with the way she carries herself and… sits. And wears converse. Your heart hurts at that thought and you feel incredibly stupid for it. Ellie sighs next to you and gets up, looking back down at you with an apologetic smile.

“I’m sorry, I promised my friend Dina to drive her downtown. But… Maybe you would like to see my drawings? Or just, hang out. We’re neighbors after all.” You can’t pretend that hearing her call the girl her friend doesn’t make you relieved and the small smile is on your face again as you feel better at the revelation. You don’t know if you should let news like this affect you the way they do but how could you not cling onto every detail when someone talks to you like a friend… for maybe the first time since you were a child. You nod as you stare and memorize her face, her pretty freckles captivating you.

“Yeah, I would like that.” Your voice is soft as you speak and you play with your fingers to distract yourself, swallowing as you see the way she stares down at you. Her hand reaches towards you and gently, so softly, she brushes a strand of hair behind your ear. Her finger brushes over your cheek so delicately that your stomach twists at the touch and you genuinely don’t know how to keep yourself sane. Your lashes flutter softly at her touch but your eyes remain locked on hers, desperate to hear her say something else or let her touch your however she wants to.

“I’ll see you then.” Ellie pulls her finger away gently and turns around, walking towards her friend. You watch as Ellie moves further and further away from your point of view until she is not even visible but you have barely come back to your senses by then. You exhale the breath you held in and softly close your eyes, touching the cheek that she had touched so softly. The moment keeps replaying in your mind, her intense gaze not faltering for once as she looks down at you like she can do whatever she wants, like… like she owns you.

You’re embarrassed by how much you like that thought. All your life, you have been alone, your family estranged and abusive, no friends to keep you sane, your mentality and shyness not allowing you to make friends. And here comes this girl, this gorgeous, pretty, intimidating girl that just sits next to you and touches you like she’s never done anything different. She seems like the kind of person that makes you feel safe, that protects you and takes care of you. The kind of person that you belong to.

She’s a stranger. You barely know her and yet, you can’t help your thoughts. You want to belong to her.

[aaron-m-geist-ff]

Hi, I hope your day is going well! 🫶🏻Omg the zodiac ask is such a cute idea!! If it's still open can I do one? 🥹 tiny 5'2 libra, she/her, love Halloween, just waiting for a man to toss me around like a ragdoll and not be afraid I'll break in the process tbh lol

Omg hello!! I also love Halloween ;) it’s my favorite holiday 🕷️🎃 and these asks started out with just a zodiac sign and a pronoun, now everyone has been sending me their hobbies and kinks and I LOVE IT SO SO MUCH LMAO.

You want to be treated like a ragdoll?? Sounds like you already know who you’re getting, Libra 😅 holy shit you’re gonna eat this up, I already know 🔮

_______________________________________________

Toji Fushiguro takes you to Spirit Halloween (smut)

You got…🥁🥁🥁

Toji Fushiguro!

“I don’t even think that Spirit Halloween is open yet. It’s September,” Toji said flatly. He was busy eating some dumplings as you rambled on and on about preparing for Halloween.

“Oh, trust me. They’re open. We have to go now, Toji!! Come on!” You weren’t above begging. You knew that Toji was weak for you and would give you whatever you wanted if you begged for it. He seemed like such a rough man, and maybe he was, but he had a soft spot for you.

The two of you did end up taking your little shopping trip to Spirit Halloween. Toji followed you down the aisles aimlessly. He clearly didn’t know where to go so he just allowed you to take the lead. He totally wasn’t doing that just to stare at your cute ass 👀

He did pull a slutty nurse costume off the rack once, smirking as he handed it to you.

“Wanna take this one home?” He asked. You ended up swatting at his arm as you rolled your eyes.

Toji would definitely try a few of the animatronics, but he would just stand there with his hands shoved into his pockets. Completely unfazed by the jumpscares.

“What’s wrong, Toji? Aren’t you scared of those?” You questioned sweetly.

Your boyfriend scoffed.

“I’m scarier.”

…That was probably true. You had no idea what Toji did for work, but he did tell you that it was a dangerous job. That was kinda hot though. Jesus, you’re fucked up for liking that 😅

Eventually, the two of you would wander into the mask aisle. Toji jokingly put on a Michael Myers mask. He did it to be funny. But once he saw the insane blush on your cheeks, he started to catch on. His tiny girlfriend wasn’t just interested in Halloween for innocent reasons. She had a goddamn mask kink.

_______

You stared up at the Michael Myers mask, panting desperately as Toji’s cock drilled into your tight pussy. Your legs were spread impossibly wide to make room for him.

Toji’s waist was huge compared to your own, his chiseled abs glistening with sweat. He was breathing heavily as he fucked you good. But the panting sounds only reminded you of Myers even more. You could see your boyfriend’s sharp gaze peering down at you through the mask.

“Fuck, you’re such a whore,” Toji growled. “Thought you were innocent. Guess I was wrong.”

He held your waist firmly with his large hands. You wouldn’t be able to push him away if you wanted to stop. The thought of that made your brain turn to mush.

“Y-yes! I’m a whore for you, Toji…P-please don’t stop!” You begged even more. Your voice sounded so shrill and weak. You gasped with every sharp thrust.

Toji moaned lowly from the feeling of your tight pussy wrapped around his shaft. He was slamming right into your G-spot with every movement. It made you arch your back from the sensations.

“Shit…Can’t even fit all of me inside, huh? Such a pathetic little girl. I could break you, y’know.”

Toji knew how much you liked the size difference. He always brought attention to it whenever you had sex. It was difficult for him to achieve an orgasm with you due to your small pussy. Therefore he could last a lot longer, which you never complained about. You loved feeling him inside. And…That Myers mask was insanely hot.

“Y’er so fuckin’ wet from this mask,” Toji hissed. He grabbed your breast roughly and squeezed it with his powerful hand. You keened, whimpering and yelping as he picked up the pace.

“Ya like gettin’ fucked by a murderer, huh?”

You nodded your head enthusiastically, unable to form words any longer.

Toji smirked behind the mask. Little did you know, you actually got fucked by a murderer every night. ;)

Read more Toji here

[thehistoriccemetery]

hiii ... idk if you do requests exactly but if u wanted id love to hear about the companions w/ a werewolf reader ? maybe its a full moon and reader has kept it a secret until now . but instead of being in a mindless violent rampage they are just kinda ... dog brained

thank u in advance ... take ur time or dont bother if u dont wanna :)

BG3 Ladies x Werewolf!Reader

I finally got a day off yesterday and I used it to write for like 8 hours so enjoy your second day of content in a row.

A lot of people have asked for companions react to Bhaal smiting the dark urge and I’m working on it, but unfortunately I’m only on act 2 of my durge run. So that one will be a while.

In better news my Minthara folks can expect a very spicy piece at some point this week!

Shadowheart

As soon as Shadowheart sees you in your wolf form, she is terrified and runs away from you as fast as she can.

It’s only when you cautiously approach camp that her mother actually points out you’re a lycanthrope. She picks up on it pretty easily given her husband shares the same affliction.

“They don’t seem to be aggressive, though” she observes, slightly confused. She tentatively taps her legs, beckoning you to come.

When you happily pad over to her, she scratches you behind the ears and you give a satisfied smile.

She sits down on the ground and continues to pet your head.

Shadowheart is still curled up on the bed, unwilling to take part in any of this.

“Oh come on Shads, you must admit, it’s kinda cute.” Her mom says as your tongue lulls from your mouth.

The closest she gets to comfortable with you that first night is a brief game of fetch. She’ll throw the ball as long as she doesn’t have to wrestle it from your maw.

The game is over though when the ball gets too slimy for her liking.

It’ll take a little while, but perhaps it’ll grow on her eventually.

Lae’zel

Lae’zel doesn’t really know much about wolves or dogs, but she’s not particularly fond of the one that’s following her around camp.

She tries to pawn you off to Karlach, but you want her so she has very little luck with that.

When it starts to get really late, she starts to worry. Where have you gone? You’ve never been out this late.

She eventually puts two and two together and realizes you are the dog that keeps pestering her.

Once she figures it out, she just tries to treat you like your normal self, which is immensely confusing to your little dog brain.

Lae’zel gets very frustrated very quickly. It takes Halsin to calm her down and teach her how to interact with you appropriately.

Every time you do something new she looks at Halsin to tell her how to react.

You flip onto your back. “Can I just keep petting them here?” Halsin nods.

In the morning, she requires quite a hefty apology and explanation as to why you wouldn’t tell her about this.

Karlach

Karlach is almost too welcoming to stray wolf that wants to wander into camp. But it’s certainly not the oddest thing that’s come into camp.

She treats you like a normal dog at first, but after persistent whining and leading her to your bed multiple times, she finally catches on.

“You didn’t tell me you were a werewolf! That’s so cool!” She exclaims, but then her faces starts to grow concerned. “Wait, you’re not gonna flip out on anyone tonight, are you? Do I need to lock you in a cage or something?”

You whine and lay down on the floor.

“Aww, you’re not gonna hurt nobody are you, sweet puppy?” She sits on the floor next to you and rubs your shoulders.

She spends the rest of the night playing with you like she would any other dog, chasing you around camp, wrestling, and petting you.

That night she snuggles up next to you, cuddling you in her arms as you lay on your side.

You wake up just as you do any other morning, in her arms, fully humanoid again.

Minthara

Minthara is unsure what to do with this dog that keeps following her around.

You do your best to actually follow her commands to keep from pissing her off, but you’re really trying to get her to understand it’s you.

You wind up going to your tent and picking up something of yours. One of your shoes should work.

When you approach Minthara with the shoe hanging from your mouth, she grows increasingly agitated with you. “Put that down! That’s not yours!”

You whine and set the shoe down, putting your paw in the shoe to indicate it’s yours.

“Are you… a werewolf?” She asked, confused. You bark in affirmation.

She spends the night allowing you to follow her around, and, as long as you follow instructions, she’s actually quite fond of your dog form.

Most of the night she spends reading a book while occasionally throwing a ball for you to go fetch.

She doesn’t see the point of the game, but you seem to enjoying yourself and it’s only mildly inconveniencing her.

At the end of the night, you move to climb up onto her bed, but she stops you with an “absolutely not” and motions for you to lay on the floor beside her.

Jaheira

As a Druid, Jaheira can speak with you even in dog form.

Once you explain the situation to her, she rolls her eyes but smiles. She should’ve known you were a werewolf.

She doesn’t worry too much about you going fully into beast mode, as you show no signs of aggression or agitation.

But you do stink. And she tells you as much. She’s gonna give you a bath.

Your dog mind causes you to protest. You don’t want a bath. There’s no way she’s getting you in a tub.

It takes a little deception and some meat from the camp supplies to get you in the bath in under 5 minutes.

She cleans you off despite your constant whining and by the end you’re actually surprised you feel better. Less itchy.

She dries you off with a towel and you give yourself a couple good shakes.

Once you’re all clean and dried, she wild shapes into a wolf so you two can spend the night curled up around each other.

[hypnos333]

Love on the brain

Claudia X Reader

Synopsis: You are Claudia’s lover and Lestat has you and Louis right under his thumb and Claudia doesn’t like her lover seeing being so close to her enemy

All your life you lived with authority in your life I guess that’s why you can say Lestat and Louis always considered you a legit child. When you met Claudia it was so very random.

You were just eating from the cookie jar till they entered with her.

“Sunshine meet Claudia she’s a new addition to the family” Louis greeted making you look at claudia with your light brown eyes.

“Why does she have different eyes?” Is she a vampire too? Oh you look so beautiful too!” Claudia rambled making you nervously chuckle as she got close to your face.

“Thanks” You said before rushing to your cookie jar then back to your casket

“Oh yes little miss sunshine, she’s differently a joyful but nervous around strangers. Don’t worry my lil milkweed she’ll get used to you do time” Lestat said as Louis sigh leading Claudia around.

“Be aware of a snake also” Louis warned making Claudia gulp down her spit. “Is it poisonous?” She asked.

“His name is Faust and no he is not poisonous so don’t worry your little pretty head” Lestat answered as they showed her the basics of being a Vampire

And do time You did get used to Claudia and you introduced her to Faust who was always being lazy in your room. Even after Charlie, Claudia fell in love with you. You seemed to always smile and laugh. You though seem to love Claudia but you noticed her humanity is off after Charlie.

After Louis and Lestat read her Diary, you distance yourself from her. And she left.

Secretly she been following you. and the mess of your family but mostly you. And then the fight between Louis and Lestat until Lestat left.

3 years. A lot changed in 3 years for instance Claudia begged you to go on a date. You said yes of course. You would always sneak in her coffin with just a bra and sweats before sneakily kiss her with het hands on your waist and your arms around her neck in the small space.

Her hands would wander up your skin to under your sports bra playing with your breast as you moan quietly. Until she’ll slip her hands out before putting her hands on your ass.

“You tease” You pouted as she kissed your neck as you close your eyes and enjoy her touch.

“Goodnight my love” She mumbled in your ear “Good night” You sigh

When you were alone walking to feast you saw Lestat, someone you haven’t seen in years shows up with a small gift in his hands.

“Hello my sunshine” he greeted her with a mysterious smirk. “Hello Lestat, May I help you with something?” You asked with a ick in your voice.

“Oh just wanna drop off a gift for you I was gonna give it to you earlier but it seems like Claudia have her plans” Lestat said handing her the gift. You opened it to see these most beautiful pink ring one standing out as you noticed it matched one ring he was wearing.

“I know how much you love rings especially matching ones” he smirked already winning her heard once more.

“I-I thought you hated matching Wha-“With you my little sunshine its an exception” He said gently to her.

You rushed and gave him a bone crushing hug before repeating the same works “Thank you” over again. You came home happy and smiling and both Louis and Claudia looked worried at that.

So they read her mind and Claudia was fuming with rage as her lover forgave him and I don’t think she was gonna tell Claudia anytime soon until Louis forgave him and he did.

She stormed out making You follow her in a rush leaving Louis thinking about forgiving the same man.

“HOW COULD YOU?!?” Claudia yelled baring her teeth out making you slightly flinch at the noise.

“Lestat is like a father figure to me, Claudia and I knew him longer then you so back off” You hissed before rushing away from her.

You sat on the roof for hours drinking blood bags and eating croissants. Until Louis came checking on her, he sat next to her before taking her blood bag drinking the rest of it making her give him an irritated look.

“Was that necessary Louis?” You asked him making him chuckled.

“Listen Sunshine I know how you’re feeling” he said ignoring the question. You already know where this conversation is going as you rolled your eyes.

“Hey! Don’t you eyes at me, I know you love Lestat as Family but- “He hides to many secrets… he hides to much I mean” You interrupt him making him nod as sigh.

“I know what you mean and I’m scared to be alone. What if I loose you or Claudia? I’ll be alone with no one” You shared your thoughts.

“Oh Darling i’m forever gonna be with you, me and Claudia aren’t leaving you ever” Louis reassured making her hug him tightly.

“Thank you Louis” You mumbled making hum in content.

Days past as they forgave Lestat Except Claudia.

“Louis, and My love I have a plan” Claudia said in they’re head

Louis and You worriedly look at each other as Claudia and Lestat continued to play chess.

“My love as much as you see him as a father figure we’re gonna kill him” She continued

“We’re gonna kill Lestat”

[sxtvrns]

the firsts i’ve never felt

🎶 now playing: clementine - grentperez

P: Kim Jongseob x Fem!Reader

S: You find yourself wandering the headquarters after being left unattended. He finds himself unreasonably intrigued by you.

C: meet cute, fluff, puppy love, inaccuracy, a bit sloppy, mentions of bullying, kinda rushed?

N: i’ve transformed my entire feed and started a bunch of masterlists and stuff! this fic is part of one of them that i need to design and stuff but i hope you’re loving the organization because i certainly am. i really wanna write but my brain is running out of scenarios i can work off of so if you dont hear from me for a while you know why. if i don't get a hair colour right sue me i can't memorize everything | all ages listed are korean, not international!

view the rest of the conversations ☆彡

please interact if you enjoy!

“Hey, honey, do you wanna come and visit my new job today? They’re showing me around, and you’re planning to work in the entertainment industry behind the scenes, aren’t you?”

…sounds like a super unprofessional thing for your mom to say on her first day of the job. However, the staff gave her leeway somehow after saying you were an aspiring makeup artist with a growing following. She said you could join in a few years, if you’d like. You still had time to think about it.

“So, how old is your daughter?” The employee asks.

“16.”

“What kind of makeup does she do?”

“She has a rather… broad spectrum. I could go into specifics but that would require me showing you examples and taking up your time.”

“Oh, go ahead! Besides, I could use a break from the work.”

The door to the elevator opens with a ding, both adults behind you not seeming to pay attention. You quickly but stealthy walk off the elevator, their attention still focused on your mom’s phone. As the doors close, they still don’t seem to notice, instead they continue going up, and you’re left alone in the quiet, empty hallway.

Somewhat quiet, actually. There was loud music coming from some of the rooms you could hear from outside as you walked by. Your phone buzzed in your hand, though you aren’t bothered to check it until another staff member sees you in the hall. She goes on her phone, types rapidly on the screen, and starts walking towards you.

You walk away from her at a quickened pace, turning the corner and beginning to run. You turn the corner again, briefly glancing at the rooms as you pass by, all of them with people inside and the lights on. Except for one.

The sound of steps sounded like it grew withe presence of multiple people, so you had no time to check and instead opened the door, and to your relief, no one was inside. You shut it quietly, hiding against the wall in hopes that the crowd passes by.

The buzzing from your phone earlier was frantic texts from your mom, asking where you went and specifying that the staff was now looking for you. You replied calmly that you ‘took yourself on your own tour’ and ‘got off as a joke in hopes she would notice’. You could practically hear her sigh at her phone as she responds with ‘i’ll keep you updated’ before leaving you on read.

You slide down against the wall, sitting and observing the environment around you. This was a dance studio, one of many that looked the same as some of the others. You didn’t want to get caught, so you stayed there for a bit on your phone, caught off guard at the sound of someone opening the door.

At first you panic, thinking someone from staff found you, but it was just some guy adorned in all black with a beanie and a mask, taking both of them off and somehow not noticing you.

You spoke too soon.

the first meet.

His eyes widened at the sight of you, the door he held open by a sliver. You hear something from outside.

“Jongseob, there’s some new hire’s daughter on the loose and she was last seen on this floor, have you seen her?” A staff member asks, the boy’s head peeking back in to look at you. You frantically shake your head and gesture for him to keep his mouth shut as he peeks out the door right after.

“I haven’t seen her, sorry.”

He fully closes the door this time, a sigh of relief escaping you as your eyes stayed glued on the boy that was nice enough to not snitch. “What are you doing here?” He asks, a reasonable question since you were in the studio for a reason other than dancing. “My mom works here. She’s starting today. And… I may or may not have gotten off the elevator too early.” You try to sum it up.

“Why?”

“Um, they were distracted. And I didn’t think the door would close right after I got off.”

“How did they even let you in?”

“I might work someplace like this as a makeup artist. When I’m older. My mom brought me along for her tour, and… that’s how I ended up here. I was running away from staff. If you want, I can leave.”

“I didn’t lie just for you to get out and defeat the whole purpose of it. It’s okay, you can stay as long as you need to.”

“Really? I’m not intruding?”

“My members won’t be here for the next little while, if you’re overwhelmed by the presence of multiple men.”

His joke makes you laugh, and you inch out of the corner you’re hiding in more, seeing him walk towards you and open the laptop on the desk. “How old are you now?” He suddenly asks, a question you find odd at first.

“16.” (international age = 14, turned 15 after a few weeks)

“Really? Me too.”

“You looked a little young. Are you a trainee?”

“I actually debuted a few weeks ago. We’re doing some promotional stuff and we have practice today.”

“Do you want me to leave when they arrive?”

“You can stay for now. It’s up to the leader if he wants you in or not. I guess if you aren’t distracting, you could watch. But I gotta wait for him.”

“I’ll check you guys out sometime. All the groups are listed in the lobby, so…”

“P1Harmony. You’ll find us easily.”

Quiet clicks come from the mousepad, as you merely stare up at him, who seems to be so focused on the screen in front of him. He looks up, then looks down at you, and your observing gaze fixed on his face. He ponders, before holding his hand out. “Nice to meet you. I’m–“

“Jongseob. You’re Jongseob.”

You finish his sentence for him, leaving him visibly surprised as you shake his hand.

“Um, I heard them say your name from the hall.” You explain, him nodding. “I’m Y/N.”

“That’s a pretty name.”

You find yourself blushing. “Thank you… um, also for not snitching. I texted my mom that I was okay, so everything should be fine now.”

“That’s good. Maybe don’t get off the elevator while she’s distracted next time.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.”

Music starts playing from the speakers, Jongseob walking away to the center of the room to warm up. Your eyes are on him the entire time, since there was nothing else you could focus on. Even if you tried going on your phone, the music would draw your attention away from it.

You had a short attention span.

But watching Jongseob merely warm up seemed to prove otherwise. Your eyes were glued to his movements and small yet precise spotting, how precise he was when he matched every beat and transition. You stared at his reflection and his back the whole time, gaze moving to his face.

He caught you staring, looking back at you through the reflection of the mirror with a subtle smirk before going back to dancing.

He comes back to pause the music while you space out staring at the floor, as he takes off his beanie and runs his hand through his hair. “How’d I do? Seemed like I caught your attention.”

You clear your throat. “Good. Really good.”

He believes you have another reason you aren’t telling him, still deciding to sit down beside you despite doing so. “What are you doing?” You ask, looking at him. “Sitting with you. Why, does this bother you?”

“No. Just… I thought you’d be warming up more. That seemed short.”

“It seemed short because you were watching me. I was dancing for, what, a little over 10 minutes? I think I’ve warmed up enough.”

“Right.” You say, kind of understanding what he’s saying. “I like your hair. The colour is very pretty.” A light purple that could be described as lavender was what it was. It painted him as docile, gentle. He seemed to be so, given he was sitting with you like this along the side of the room.

“Thank you.” He smiles, sounding genuine. So genuine, in fact, that he smiles at you for the first time with his teeth showing, his hand covering his mouth right after. You take a mental note of that habit. “When did you start training?” You ask.

“When I was 12.” (international age = 10, turned 11 later that year due to late birthday)

“That young?! When I was 12 I was still scared of the concept of paragraphs…”

“I’ve always wanted to be a singer. Perform for others. There was a chance, so I took it.”

“I admire you for that. Taking risks that benefited you later in the future.”

“You took a risk today.”

“I did?”

“You stepped off the elevator and outran a bunch of staff successfully.”

“And I benefited from it how?”

“You met me.”

You’re unsure if he’s flirting with you, but your face heats up regardless. “Yet I’ll never see you again. But… I enjoy your company. And I appreciate your kindness.” When you look up from the ground, he’s handing you his phone, the keypad open.

“Let’s keep in touch.”

At first, you’re a little stunned at his boldness. But you accept his offer, typing in your phone number and letting him do the same with your phone right after. “I’ll try to text you back when I can. I’m pretty busy.”

“And I’ll try to not keep my phone on silent. I’ve missed so many interviews because of it…”

“For part-time jobs?” You nod. “I later learned they weren’t paying what they should be, so I guess I dodged a bullet.”

“Do you have a job now?”

“I work at a convenience store for income. My mom’s always saying I never needed to take a part-time job claiming we’re somewhat rich, but I wanted a bit of independence for myself. And I get free food and snacks sometimes, so that’s a bonus.”

“If I come visit, will I get free food?”

“Convenience store snacks are cheap enough already. Maybe I’ll give you ₩489 off.”

(₩489 = 0.50 cents)

He laughs at your offer. “I’ll take it.”

The door suddenly opens, five other men coming in all at once, stopping once they notice the two of you sitting together against the wall.

“Hello.” Jongseob greets, getting up. “Who’s that?” One of them asks, looking at you. “A… friend.” He responds.

“How did she get in here?”

“Long story.”

Their stares are reasonable, yet they make you feel uncomfortable as you feel out of place cooped up against the wall. Jongseob seemed to notice, shooting you a quick question. “Are you okay?”

The sound of his has your head turned to face him as you nod, acting like you weren’t spaced out prior. “I’m fine. This is the rest of your group?”

“Yeah. You can stay for practice if you’d like. I’ll ask Keeho.”

Surely they wouldn’t mind, you were just afraid you’d misinterpret their gazes for glares that would scare you off. “I would, but I should go. I already texted my mom earlier that I’d be leaving while she was still working. But I’ll leave. I don’t want to be… distracting.”

“You aren’t distracting at all.” He attempts to reassure you.

“Says the one who was looking at me through the mirror’s reflection.”

“Jongseob, should we warm up?” One of the boys asks, taking off their hoodie and beanie while they all simultaneously look at the two of you. That was an indirect invitation saying that they were about to start, him getting up his spot and lending you a hand to do the same.

“Thank you, Jongseob. I’ll text you.” He nods with a smile as you leave the room, your fast paced steps almost being heard from the inside of the room.

“Who was that, Jongseob?” Theo asks as the youngest walks over. “A new friend. She kinda abandoned her mom unintentionally and hid in here from the staff.”

“Oh, her. The people downstairs were talking about it.” Intak adds.

“In a good way or a bad way?”

“Mixed. How come her mom brought her here?”

“Y/N’s planning to work in the industry as a makeup artist, and her mom wanted to show her a potential place for hiring since she’s already working here.”

“She said she’d text you.” ‘What does that mean?’ Keeho meant to ask.

“I gave her my number.”

They’re all surprised, wide eyed and everything. “Really?”

“I wanna talk to her more. I think you guys scared her off.”

“We don’t look scary.” Intak looks at himself, then everybody else. Jongseob’s eyes dart over all five of them briefly. “You guys look terrifying.”

“As if you weren’t wearing the same thing when you left the apartment.” Theo sneers, looking at him weirdly. “Hey, she liked my hair and I saved her from a bunch of staff. I’m a pretty approachable person even with the coverups.”

“You approached her.” Theo retorts.

“And?”

Intak, very obviously antsy, whines. “Can we just start, please? We’ll talk about this later.” He groans in distress, convincing the rest of the boys to move on. Keeho speaks up first from the sea of silent stares.

“Let’s go, then.”

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

On the way home from school, you usually take the shift right after at the convenience store you worked at. It was close to home but not far from school, you managed to be on time for majority of your shifts.

Your coworker seemed to be eye candy for the girls your age that came in, but you saw him more as an older brother figure. He was super nice and always filled in for when you weren’t feeling well, and frankly, you thought it was a bit strange girls your age were pining over a man in his late 20s.

You had your fair share of attraction to more famous people that were older than you, but the fact you knew your coworker long enough to know things about him kind of made some situations awkward. Sure, he was cute, but come on. He’s practically looking for an actual job already and the fact he’s stuck with you is because he actually enjoys his part-time and you two were always only available for the same time slot every day.

You weren’t working today. You knew he was. So you assumed that it would just be a straight shot walk home.

Until you remembered you were a victim of verbal harassment.

You never did anything wrong, you were just laughed at and picked on by a specific group of girls for a reason you didn’t know. You always believed it was because you were prettier than them, given that their crushes ended up all mutually pining over you rather than them.

It’s a joke that you laugh at with them at times, yet the girls still don’t seem to like you.

At least they weren’t cutting your hair or anything. You could take words but you couldn’t take a pencil being dug into your hand.

So when you saw those girls turn the corner, you ran, fingers crossed they didn’t see you.

“Y/N, come back! We have something to tell you!”

They saw you.

With your backpack almost falling off, and the sound of rapid footsteps that sounded like they were getting closer, you spot the convenience store you worked at and run in, your coworker behind the desk and watching you hide behind the shelf closest to the wall.

At first, you’re panting, out of breath and coughing as you try to get it back.

“Y/N?”

You look up.

Jongseob is standing there, fridge door held open by his hand with a drink in the other, small clouds of steam coming from the cool air hitting the heated room. “Hi.”

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I’m fine.” You would’ve told him the truth if the story was so long. You peek up from the shelf, fully standing up when you see no one there. “Are you hiding from someone?” He asks, obviously and reasonably clueless as he lets the door close. You merely nod, seeing the girls out of the corner of your eye through the glass and ducking down again, dragging Jongseob along with you.

The bell above the door rings as shuffling can be heard going towards the counter.

“Shin-Il! We saw Y/N come in here, did you see her?” One of the girls’ ear piercing voices rings in your ears, their attempt at acting cute and desperate simply making you cringe. Luckily you told your coworker about your complicated situation with these girls. “No, sorry. She isn’t working today.”

While you’re mentally pleading that they don’t care enough to check around the store, Jongseob’s eyes stay on you and dart around just in case, being able to hear the brief conversation as he stares.

“We’re looking for her! Are you sure she isn’t in the bathroom or something?”

“She isn’t here. Maybe she went somewhere else.”

They all whine, leaving the store as you let out a sigh of relief. You look up to see Jongseob offering you a hand, which you accept, helping you up as you lean against the fridge door, in disbelief that those girls were so clueless.

“Why were they looking for you?”

“They hate me, that’s why.”

“Why would they hate you?”

“Because I’m prettier than them. Long story.”

“The boys they liked all ended up liking Y/N collectively. Friendly with the boys, tormented by the girls.” Shin-Il suddenly appears out of nowhere, handing you a small bottle of water. “Who’s this, Y/N?”

“My friend.”

“How do you two know each other?” Jongseob asks.

“We work together part-time. We always end up picking the same shifts, and I make sure she doesn’t get killed by her fellow classmates when they come to visit.”

“Are these girls really bullying you, Y/N? Have you brought it up with anyone?” Jongseob asks, the worry noticeable in his tone. “They haven’t physically harmed me. When you consider all the details, they’re just jealous.”

“I don’t know any of the details, and that’s why I’m concerned.”

“I’m fine, Jongseob, really. I think I just… need to stay in here for a while. Just in case they’re in any of the other stores.”

“I can walk home with you, if you’d like.” He starts. “Um, just in case they show up or something, I can like, cover you–“

“I’d like that.”

You cut him off with your straightforward answer, and he seemed to be content as he sends you a closed lip smile. “Are you ready to go? Do you want anything?” He asks, looking out the window just in case. “I haven’t eaten lunch today, but I don’t have enough money on me.”

“I can pay for you. Get whatever.”

“Really? But I don’t know when I’ll pay you back.”

“You don’t have to if you can’t.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes, I’m sure.”

“Jongseob–“

“Y/N, please. It’s okay, really. If you want to stay here and eat, you can do that too. I’ll wait.”

You feel a bit guilty as you get yourself dosirak and a small container of banana milk, seated at the window seat as Jongseob pays for your food. He sits down beside you, looking at the window and staring at you through your reflection in it. “Is it okay if you can tell me why those girls don’t like you?”

You swallow. “It’s really not a big deal, Jongseob.”

“Yes, it is. I know we’ve only ever talked a few times through text, but I’m… it sounds concerning that they’re willing to chase you for a few insults.” You sigh, taking a sip of your banana milk before trying to rack together all the pieces of the story.

“Well, Shin-Il kind of explained it to you already. Those girls have a crush on some guys, and those guys, at one point, ended up liking me. Now I just make fun of them for it as an inside joke, so I’m friendly with them. They don’t like me in that way anymore. Those girls dislike me because the guys liked me instead of them. Does that make sense?”

“Yeah. That’s… stupid.”

“It is. They’re too ignorant to see that there’s really nothing there anymore. Otherwise, I feel we could be good friends. But I’m patient enough to wait until they realize their harassment was for a reason thats existence already faded away.” You continue to wolf down on your food, as hungry as you were, Jongseob merely keeping watch outside and of you. To make sure you weren’t choking, of course.

As you leave the store and your walk home begins, so does the empty feeling in the air.

“Are you sure the walk home isn’t far?” You ask. “No, I’ll be okay. It won’t be dark for a bit.”

“And… I promise I’ll pay you back, okay?”

“You really don’t have to…”

“Yes, I do. I know you’re an idol and all that, but you’re still a human with morals.”

“If you insist. But if you can’t, you don’t have to.”

“I will.”

Jongseob’s beanie hides his vibrant purple hair, and as much as you are disappointed you aren’t able to see it, you understand that it would be a dead giveaway that he was in the entertainment industry.

“I watched your show the other day.”

“Really? How did I do?”

“You were awesome! I think it’s cool that there’s an idol out there my age, and I’m friends with you, no less. You looked really good, too.”

“Thank you…” He wasn’t expecting to get so flustered over your compliments. Lucky he had no choice but to wear his mask. Jongseob watches as you bring your phone to your ear as you send a greeting over to the person on the other side of the line.

“I’m coming, I’m on my way home.”

“Yes, I’m okay. I’m with a friend right now.”

“He’s walking home after me, he’ll be okay.”

“Look, can you not be go crazy over this right now? I’ll talk to you later.”

“What do you mean ‘you want to meet him’?! You never want to meet anyone!”

“Okay, okay, fine, just stop screaming in my ear. Bye.” You end the call and let out a frustrated growl as you tighten your grip on your phone. “Everything okay?” Jongseob asks hesitantly.

“Just because I said I’m walking home with a ‘he’ my mom’s freaking out over it and now she wants to meet you.”

“I think I’ve run into your mom while at headquarters. She acknowledges me but is usually in a rush.”

“She’s usually late, that’s why. But she always gets one step ahead of her work, so she always gets excused. But seriously, is it just because you’re a guy that she wants to meet you? She didn’t ask to meet my other female friends and they just met her voluntarily while walking with me.”

“What about your dad?”

“Overseas for work. He’s coming back in a few weeks. He’s much more laid back. I think my mom is a bit… overprotective. I can understand that, but she could’ve asked me to introduce you without screaming at me…”

“Is she… abusing you?”

“God, no! It’s just one of those days, y’know? Maybe she got pissed off she stubbed her toe or something. And just because she always wants to keep watch over me, I feel like retaliating.”

“Is that why you stepped off the elevator?”

“Not really. Maybe.”

He can’t help but smile after uncovering your true motive.

As you approach the door, you have no choice but to knock given that your keys were probably buried somewhere deep in your backpack. Your mom opens the door with a relieved sigh as she opens her arms for a hug, which you reluctantly accept in front of Jongseob. “I’m so sorry for yelling at you, honey, I… I was having a bad day and I took it out on you and I was worried that–“

“Mom. It’s okay, I get it.” She smiles softly, any grudge you held against her melting away instantly. It was surprising how she was able to manipulate you so quickly. “You’re friends with Jongseob?” She asks.

“You know his name?”

“Of course I know his name, your mom works at FNC too.” She says, referring to herself in the third person. “Are you sure you can walk home alone? Isn’t it a bit far by foot?”

“I’ll be okay, ma’am.”

“I can give you a ride, it’ll be much faster.”

“My dorm isn’t too far from here and it won’t be dark for a while. Thank you for the offer.”

“Get home safe, okay?”

“I will. Bye Y/N.” He says his goodbyes as he walks away from the premises of your house, your mom letting you in and closing the door fully. “You didn’t tell me you were friends with Jongseob. I would’ve started bringing you to work after school so you don’t have to stay home alone. I could get you a pass to come in.”

“Isn’t that an abuse of your position?”

“I care about my daughter, what kind of abuse is that?”

You sigh followed by a smile as you begin to head up the stairs.

“You should’ve gotten his phone number before he left!” She yells before you disappear into your room.

“I already have it!” You yell back.

“Since when?”

You freeze, unable to think of an answer.

“Long story!”

“I have time!”

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

“Shin-Il!”

“Shin-Il, I got this for you!”

“I’ll see you tomorrow, Shin-Il!”

You roll your eyes as the countless crowds of girls just keep coming into the store. As much as it was annoying, you were glad you basically hogged all the free time since Shin-Il just had to be at the counter to tend to the flock.

“You could be doing better things right now.” He says, turning back to look at you. “Like what?” You rhetorically ask, looking up from your phone. “Restocking the shelves, cleaning the floors, doing your homework.”

“I am a very diligent student, thank you very much.”

“You don't even go to cram school. What about your fans?”

“I already posted last week. They know how intricate the process can be.” He begins to leave when you stop talking. “Gonna use the bathroom. The minute you stand up, you’re on register duty for the rest of the shift.”

“Then I’m not gonna stand up.”

He snatches the phone out of your hand, dangling it above his head. “Hey!” You jump up, struggling to reach your phone. Curse men for being so tall. “Give it back!” He hands the phone back to you, putting a hand on your shoulder and whispering into your ear.

“Your shift begins now.”

Jerk.

“That wasn’t even fair!” Shin-Il ignores you as you hear a door from a distance shut and lock. You sigh, annoyed, shoving your phone in your pocket before briefly scanning whatever was in view in case it needed restocking.

You don’t seem to be paying attention, because by the time you blink, a person is waiting at the counter.

“I’m so sorry, I’ll take those.” You apologize, embarrassed, scanning the person’s items and bagging them for him. You’re struggling to make eye contact as the person pays you, insisting you keep the change as they walk off. “Next.” You call, the person in line putting his things on the counter.

“Did you find everything you–“ You look up to see Jongseob, an innocent, toothy smile on his face. You noticed his fang, something you couldn’t help but find charming. “Hi.”

“Hi. Slow today?”

“All the customers came for Shin-Il and that’s it. You’re the second person I’ve served today.”

“I’m honored.”

“I don’t even know where he is and why he’s taking so long in the stupid bathroom. Anyways, how come you came here? Isn’t there a place closer to your dorm?”

“I just happened to be in the area. I also wanted to see you.”

Your heart flutters at the thought, but you shove those feelings down before it can reach your head. “Really? You could’ve just went someplace closer.”

“I figured I’d come say hi. I feel like this is the only time we can see each other like this.”

“Like what?”

“Like normal teenagers with normal lives.”

He pays for his items, leaving a container of banana milk out of his grasp. “You forgot–“

“It’s for you. Take it.”

“Jongseob, how am I gonna pay you back?”

“Don’t.”

“But–“

“Shhh.” He leans in, sliding the container towards you. “Let me be nice to you, okay?” He pulls away, acting as if he wasn’t so bold a few seconds ago. “Do you want me to walk you home again? I’ll ask the guys to come find me so I won’t have to walk home alone.”

“I don’t– um... I’ll be off a bit late.”

“Which gives me more of a reason to walk with you. It’s dark and you’ll be alone.”

“You know I don’t live far.”

“And you know that this is a safer decision and you’re ultimately denying it for the sake of my safety and convenience.”

“Jongseob, your safety matters way more than mine. You’re a freaking idol, for God’s sake. And I thought you came alone, what do you mean the guys can find you?”

“We decided to go out together. We ended up splitting up to explore and look around by ourselves. I think I’m the only person that went alone."

"I can tell. Did you ask them if they wanted anything?"

"Theo and Jiung are grabbing food for later." He pauses. "My offer still stands." He reminds, persistent. You look at him, appreciating his kindness but unsure if he was willing to wait. "I don't get off until 8."

"I'll walk around after I eat. You can call me when you're done."

Though you feel a bit guilty, it really seemed like he wasn't backing down. "Sure. Thanks. You're also holding up the line." He smiles before taking his items with him as he finds a seat, you taking the banana milk and sliding it closer to you and to the side. Shin-Il finally comes back after taking who knows how long in the bathroom, eyes landing on your friend.

"He's here again. You two must be close."

"Eh... lucky circumstance. What were you even doing in the bathroom, you weirdo?"

"What else would I be doing besides use it for its intended purpose?"

"No one pisses for 5 minutes, Il. You aren't fooling anyone. Is it that girl you're talking to?"

"I am not talking to anyone."

"When those girls find out they are gonna freak."

"I was buying tickets for a thing."

"I thought all public events were closed. You aren't that slick."

"Okay, maybe it is about that girl, but we're just going somewhere, that's all. But I was buying tickets for an exhibition, she loves art."

"Aw, how cute. So when's the wedding?" You take a sip from the small container of banana milk Jongseob bought for you, noticing he isn't in his seat anymore. How did he eat so fast? "Y/N, can you do restocks? We'll make more sales if I'm at the counter."

"You aren't that handsome. The schoolgirl rush is over, no one's gonna come in."

You were wrong.

Many people came in, just not his usual audience, but at least they weren't all up on him. You could hear the compliments from the fridge, but nothing seemed to bother you or him one bit.

As you take an empty box to the back, you go to grab another one until Shin-Il stops you. "I'll take it from here. Mun-Hee clocked in early. And you have a visitor." He pats your back as you get up, seeing Jongseob waving at you with a smile, taking his phone out and showing you the screen.

"It's 8 o'clock."

At first, you're shocked by his dedication, but frantically hurry to the back to clean up and grab your things in order to not keep him waiting. When you get back, you see him talking with your coworker, and you interrupt in order to stop Shin-Il from potentially saying anything embarrassing.

"All ready? Let's go."

You both say your goodbyes as you walk out the store, Mun-Hee nudging Shin-Il in the side. "Kid's got a boyfriend now?" She asks, only receiving a shrug in return. She's content with the answer, going back to your unfinished restocking job.

"You really did mean it when you said you'd wait."

"Of course I did. Why wouldn't I?"

"Sometimes people change their minds or things happen out of their control that they just can't make it."

"I just walked around the park nearby and stuff. And– oh, I just remembered something." He stops, taking his beanie off and putting it on your head, revealing the alluring lavender that coloured his hair, something you secretly found appealing. You don't even have time to process that you were wearing the hat that covered his beautiful colour. "Jongseob, your hair. People might recognize you."

"Brought an extra. It's a bit late, so I doubt I'll get asked for a photo."

"So you planned this?"

"Whenever you send me selfie updates, you're never wearing a hat. You aren't even wearing a scarf, are you not freezing?"

"I am. I didn't think it'd get this cold, so I didn't bring one since it was warmer this morning."

"It'll always be colder at night, Y/N. You need to remember that, especially since you're working late."

"Did you even wash this?"

"Five times through the cycle. You seem to like it when we see each other, and conveniently, colder weather is approaching so I thought you should have it. You don’t have any hats at home?”

“I forgot to bring one. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome. No need to pay me back, by the way.”

By the time you look back at him, his hair is covered again with another beanie, his stealthiness making you stifle a chuckle. “What?”

“I like your hair. I sometimes wish you didn’t have to hide it.”

“Well, I don’t necessarily hide it, I usually just wear hats because it’s more comfortable for me. A lot of people are dyeing their hair now, so I don’t think I’ll get recognized if I didn’t wear one.”

“How many people have you seen with purple hair in public?”

“Quite a few people, actually. So do you want me to take it off?”

“Huh? Why? Aren’t you cold?”

“At least I have a scarf. And you said you wished I didn’t have to hide it.”

“Weren’t you the one who said we shouldn’t risk anything when asking to walk me home?”

“Fair. But that’s a completely different scenario. I took a risk going down the path I’m still on today.”

“That is irrelevant.”

“Worth a shot.”

He walks with you to your door again, ringing the doorbell as you waited an unusually long time for your mom to answer.

“My mom said she could get me a card for FNC so I could stay there instead of alone at home after school. I tell her once and I’m already being pampered.” You laugh, Jongseob’s face lighting up. “Really? You should text me when you arrive! I’ll come find you, and I won’t bother if you have homework to do!”

“She hasn’t gotten it for me yet, I’m still thinking about it.”

“You should say yes so we can see each other in person more often! As long as your school isn’t far from headquarters, though.”

“We see each other when we call.”

“Seeing you like this is often just my luck. Otherwise I’m busy practicing or resting in the dorms. I like being able to talk to you in person.”

And as he smiles, that same one always on his face whenever you two seem to be together, you remember that he’s still just a kid. He’s the same age as you and he’s already in the spotlight, under the watchful eyes of so many fans through their screens.

You get to see him beyond that screen. You’ve been able to see him, meet him, know him beyond his idol persona. And he’s comfortable enough to share who he really is with you. You feel grateful for that.

The front door opens, your mom welcoming you in and noticing your friend by the door as well. “Jongseob, what a nice surprise! Such a coincidence you two ran into each other again. Thank you for walking with Y/N.”

“You’re welcome, Mrs. L/N.”

“Do you need a ride back?”

“Jongseob!” Someone calls, a group of five guys crowded outside your house, which you then identify as his group. “Let’s go, dude! Food’s gonna get cold.” Another one adds.

“I should get going. See you tomorrow, hopefully?” He asks, almost promising.

“Yeah. See you tomorrow.”

You both stand there for a moment, looking at each other as if you were anticipating something as your mom goes ahead inside, the door still open. He suddenly steps forward and wraps his arms around you, one of his hands resting on top of your head.

You’re surprised, but return the hug carefully before he pulls away, sending you a small wave as he goes to join his group in departing.

Jongseob feels an elephant in the room as he walks with them, Theo carrying on a conversation that didn’t seem to make the vibe go away. It doesn’t seem to until they all got back to the dorm, when they started eating.

“That’s a different hat. What happened to the other one?” Intak asks rhetorically. “Y/N had it.” Soul answers nonchalantly, not seeming to understand the sarcasm behind it. “I gave it to her. She was cold.”

“Is she borrowing it?” Jiung asks. “I gave it to her. It’s hers now.” Jongseob reiterates, his point clarified.

“How does Soul know her name and we don’t?” Keeho asks, mouth full. “I talk to her all the time, do you not hear?” Everyone but Soul shakes their head. “She’s nice.” Soul adds.

“Hopefully she can come after school tomorrow. Her mom is trying to get her admission in so she doesn’t have to stay at home.”

“You met her mom?” Intak asks, Jongseob nodding. “I run into her in the halls, sometimes in the elevator.”

“What was the hug for? I swore she looked like she could’ve fallen asleep in your arms.” Theo asks, pointing out something that had Jongseob questioning.

“I… I don’t know.”

his first crush.

“I was feeling nice, I guess. It was cold. She looked cold.”

Jongseob didn’t really have a reason. He couldn’t think of why he left you off with a hug that night. The question kept him up all night.

Along with the speed of his racing heart.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

seob

seobie

jongseob

hi sorry

whats up?

my mom is looking for you what dance room are you in

why is she looking for me?

has to give you something? idk she told me to ask

okay im in 205

thanks

Jongseob puts his phone down and goes back to warming up, taking off his hat and focusing on himself. More specifically, his hair.

‘I really like your hair. I sometimes wish you didn’t have to hide it.’

Why couldn’t he get that out of his head?

As the song begins to end, he hears a knock on the door, finishing off and pausing the music before answering. He opens the door to reveal you, still in your school uniform.

“Hi!” You greet. At first, he’s stunned. You’re really here, and you’re really visiting him. “I got a card from the front desk.” He’s still standing there, jaw slack, staring at you in disbelief. All of a sudden, he’s hugging you, hiding your face in his shoulder as he looks up to check the halls, guiding you in and closing the door.

“Don’t want them to see you. But hi.” He mutters, clearing his throat after pulling away.

“They know I’m here. Have you warmed up yet? Are the rest of them coming?”

“Not for a while. I think I’ll take a break–“

“You dyed your hair!”

He freezes as your hand goes up to touch it. His color changed from lavender to a deep, light red. “Yeah. Do you like it?”

“It looks really good on you.”

“Do you prefer this or the purple?”

“Honestly, you look good with any color.” You sit down on the ground, opening your backpack but pausing before going any further. “Can I do my homework? I have one question left and it’s super easy.”

“Go ahead.”

Jongseob can’t help but focus on you the whole time, when you take your papers and pencils out, when you read through the worksheet, when you begin to write, so concentrated in the moment. He finds himself staring, and you do too.

“All done.” You look up to see him returning your gaze, something there when your eyes meet. “What was so interesting about me and my schoolwork?”

“Huh?”

“You were staring at me.”

He flushes, shaking his head and denying immediately. “No! I wasn’t!”

“Come on, you can admit it. You think I’m pretty.”

“I–“

“I think you’re pretty.”

You cut him off, answering with no shame and an innocent smile on your face. He can’t help but think you mean more than you really do. “You do?”

“Oh, I do. Your hair, your face, your style. It all compliments so well. Take it from me, I’m an artist.”

He thinks to himself as you await his answer. “I think you’re pretty too.”

“Really?”

“Really pretty.”

You both have the same kind of war going on in your head. You wish the other really meant it, but something was holding you back from believing they did. To outsiders, you looked like two people in love. In your head, you were hoping he really meant what he was saying.

“I, um, hope you don’t mind if I stay in for practice. And I do want to talk to you before your members get here.” You try to divert the conversation with the atmosphere telling you closure was needed. “Yeah, we’re working on our comeback actually, so…” He holds out his pinkie.

“You have to promise not to tell anyone. Not a peep.”

You lock your own with his. “Promise.” You both giggle at the gesture as your fingers pull away. “I know this is gonna sound like a really stupid, cheesy question, but do you mean it?”

The way you start off catches his attention. “Do I mean what?”

“When you said I was pretty.”

He’s stunned, stuck in place as he stares at you while forgetting to answer. “I know we’re still young, but I’ve had my heart toyed with before. And all he did was laugh.” You scooted closer to him. “So what I’m asking is, ‘seob, do you really think I’m pretty? Or are you just being nice?”

“What answer are you hoping to hear?”

“That you do. That you mean everything you’ve ever said to me.”

He’s frozen, all he can do is stare into your eyes as you await a response. “Yes.”

“Yes?”

“Yes, I do mean it. You, Y/N, are one very pretty girl.”

“How many pretty girls do you see while out for work?”

“Many. None of them are as pretty as you.”

her first crush.

You know you’re the one that instigated this conversation, but still, you can’t help but blush at his response. “You’re all red.” He points out. “Do my words really mean that much to you?”

“All I wanted was closure.”

The door opens, Jongseob patting your head and joining the rest of the guys as if he didn’t just have you melting a few seconds ago.

You sat in the corner of the practice room, your face still hot, and your eyes focused on Jongseob the entire time.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

i want you to come visit but my mom isnt letting any visitors in the house

how come?

apparently we’re having a dinner party here in a few days or something? idk shes trying to keep it clean beforehand cuz my dad is finally coming back from his trip

he’s been overseas for how long??

a few months now, some promotion that he got resulted in him staying longer

oh wow

well you could come over to my dorm

actually?

i gotta ask the guys first

oh if u have to ask then its okay maybe next time

they said yes

i hear them cleaning up

what

are you coming or not

omw

You knock on their door, and when no one responds, you call Jongseob, and it suddenly opens to reveal sight of him holding the phone up to his ear.

“You have… a lot of stuff.” He points out, eyeing the large bag you’re carrying. “Are you sleeping over or something?”

“I actually… if it’s okay with you… wanted to do your makeup. I know you’ve been saying how much you want to try it and stuff and I figured we could do it if I saw you today but I forgot to ask–“

“Absolutely. Yes, please, come in, no one’s in my room. ‘Cause… I share a room, and, Jiung’s out and the rest are watching a movie.”

“I get it. I get your whole rooming thing. Am I gonna be in trouble for being here?”

“Not if you don’t get caught.”

“How mischievous of you. If you were to ever get into a scandal with me, would you care?”

“Oh, I wouldn’t mind that at all.”

You laugh it off as if your face wasn’t on fire, closing the door to his shared room.

“Ew, are they gonna make out in there?” Intak says in disgust with fake repulsion. “Just because Jongseob can get a girlfriend and you can’t is not a valid reason to be petty.” Keeho holds back his laugh. “Theo– you can’t say that! That is not funny!”

“Then why are you laughing?”

“…watch the movie.”

Meanwhile, in Jongseob’s room, you finish off his base, tapping brushes against palettes before gently stroking the pigments against his face. His eyes, specifically. The medium shade brought out the orange in his hair, but really, you’ve been wanting to try out a specific look for a while.

“Keep your eyes closed.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Don’t call me that.”

“Why?”

“Makes me feel old.”

“You’re older than me.”

“I’m the same age as you. Now hush.”

He blows a raspberry as you do his eyeliner, a miracle it didn’t smudge or that you didn’t mess up in any way. It was almost adorable how eagerly he nodded when you showed him your container of extra rhinestones.

You hand him a mirror, putting your extra equipment away before finding a tube of lipstick. “Wow.” is all he says until he puts the mirror down and sees you putting on said lipstick. “Oh, you were actually gonna… do that part?”

“Oh, no. I was just swatching. It’s a pretty shade, don’t you think?” Your lips are painted with a vibrant shade of red, bold and eye-catching as you turned to face your friend who’s struggling to keep his jaw from hanging. “Yeah. Really… bright.”

“Well, you know my style. Bold and bright. I decided to… take a break for a change. And I took it out on you.”

“You call this a break? I look fabulous.”

“It’s the rhinestone effect. But yes, this is a break since I only do my face most of the time. And the colours are neutral, but defined. Makeup therapy for me is a total stress reliever, but obviously my face can’t handle powders daily. And… I really needed this, especially after this week.”

“Exams?”

“I took them already.”

“This early?”

“I’m taking AP classes since I don’t do cram school. My school is aware, and honestly, surprised at my career choice. Peer pressure is getting to me more than it should.”

“I hope you don’t feel guilty about this in any way. You’re so talented.”

“My only talent is this. Maybe I’ll work behind the scenes in the entertainment industry all my life. And… there’s something else I need to tell you.”

“What is it?”

You exhale. “I got the job.”

“The job?”

“I’m your travelling makeup artist. I’ll be going with you for future tours and everything.”

He can’t stop his jaw from dropping now. “No way. You’re serious?” He asks, watching you nod eagerly as a big smile grows on his face, going in for a hug which you tightly return. “Y/N– that’s amazing! Does this mean I’ll get to see you every day?”

You nod. “It’s why I’m taking AP. Maybe I’ll switch next year, but I’m exempt from classes because of my success.”

“Wow, so privileged.”

“I’m just good at my job.”

You hear him chuckle, his eyes focused on you and that damn red lip. “I’m proud of you. I’m so proud of you.”

“Thank you.” You stifle a laugh. “I’m sorry, it’s just hard to take you seriously with the makeup.”

“You’re the one that did it!”

“You’re never in my style, and it’s over the top!”

The door opens and you immediately pull away from Jongseob, taking out cleansing products after sorting everything else in your bag. Theo stands there, still, staring at your friend all glammed up.

“How do I look?” Jongseob asks with dramatic poses to show off his makeup, Theo taking out his phone and taking pictures of him silently. “You did this?” He asks you, pointing at the boy that had your heart racing. “Did I do good?”

“He looks great. You should come out and show the guys.”

“I don’t wanna watch the movie out there though.”

“You can go back in here and continue making out with Y/N or whatever it is that you were doing in here in the first place.”

“I was not– hey!” Theo’s dragging Jongseob out of the room by his wrist, unable to keep his grip on the doorframe as you hear him groan. You can all hear the guys gushing over Jongseob’s face from the room, poking jokes at him and teasing him.

“Is that lipstick? Did she kiss you?!”

“No, no, nothing like that! She was swatching and it must’ve smudged on me…”

“I thought you two were kissing when I walked in.”

“We hugged.”

“Sure.” One of them snarkily replies.

“I’m gonna tell you who dies if you don’t stop talking.” You hear Jongseob threaten, referring to the movie that was currently on pause in the living room.

“No!”

He silently comes back to the room, seeing you sitting there, cleansers still out as he shuts the door. “Is there really lipstick on me?” He asks, turning his head so you could see all angles of his face. “Oh, right there. How did I not notice that?” You get up with a makeup wipe, swiping it gently against the mark until is goes away.

It was only until you moved away that you noticed how close you were, and that he notice something missing. “You wiped off your lipstick already?”

“I told you I was swatching. I took photos.” ‘And I could see the way you looked at me.’ You thought. “I’d like to post them, but you’re an idol and all, so…”

“A shame, really. Do you wanna eat? Jiung got some takeout, and I don’t wanna take off your hard work for a little while.”

“Sure, but don’t expect me to take you seriously while you’re all glammed up.”

“You did this to me!”

“We are not having this conversation again.”

his first love, where he can’t imagine being with anybody else but you.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Jongseob’s met a lot of pretty girls. As an idol, it’s only natural he has to work with them, be in the same premise as them. Yet he can never see anything more to them because they aren’t like you.

Your snarky replies, your teasing, your genuine questions and need for reassurance, your automatic response to rely on him, contact him whenever you’re feeling overwhelmed. Maybe it was because he’s spent so much time with you that he built this connection, but he learned that no one else could replicate this feeling he was so comfortable with.

This feeling that he only felt with you.

His members teased him mercilessly, especially on your first day on the job. You were assigned to him and specifically him (according to a colleague, he requested you), and every time anyone of his fellow group saw you working so close with him, they’d start laughing.

Jiung and Intak would take Jongseob’s phone from him if they were to ever find him on call with you. Keeho would give him those looks whenever he saw him smiling at his screen, and on his screen was you. Theo and Soul… they left him alone for the most part. They’d say hello and you guys would chat, but of course, Theo with his natural older brother energy, would occasionally tease him about it, usually through complaints.

“Jongseob, can you stop talking to your girlfriend and go to sleep? We have practice tomorrow.”

“Geez, you wanted her to swatch on you, didn’t you?”

“Watch where you’re going with that! I know you’re practically in love with her, but you should still pay attention to your surroundings!”

Soul simply encouraged the idea of you two together.

“She really likes you, I can tell.”

“Will you be out of the dorm more often when you two start dating?”

“You got her a ring? When is the wedding?”

And all Jongseob really wanted was to figure out if you really did like him or not. Because he felt like he could never experience such euphoria with anyone other than you.

He was only 18, why did he seem so sure about this? His mind was certainly older.

The door to the studio opens, and you enter, dropping your school bag onto the floor and looking absolutely spent.

“Are you okay?” He asks as you walk over, head in his chest. “Not even a hello?” You joke, looking up at him. “Tired. Long day. School’s a real pain in the ass when you have things to do outside of it. You’re lucky you’re busy enough that you don’t have to go.”

“Sometimes I wish I could. I’d enroll at your school and take all the classes with you so I’m not alone. Speaking of school, what happened to those girls who chased you?”

“Oh, them?” You laugh. “We’re cool now. One of them apologized to me. The rest followed. It took one longer than the rest to muster up the courage. They thought I hated them which is why they couldn’t talk about it in the first place, which is understandable.”

“Did you forgive them?”

“Not right away. I accepted their apology, but I’ll talk to tomorrow. It’s a little bit scary leaving work in fear of being chased and they kinda ignited that in me. I could never hate them, though. Maybe that’s a lie, but I guess when I thought I hated them, I was just afraid.”

“You’re so insightful it’s honestly attractive.” You look at him, amused. “Are you flirting with me, Jongseob?”

“Oh, I’m just being honest.”

“Sure. Your birthday just passed and your ego is suddenly through the roof.”

“Well, I am Kim Jongseob, so maybe my ego should’ve been through the roof a while ago.”

“Now you’re just sounding arrogant.”

“I’m just better.” You roll your eyes, looking at the computer in the corner of the room on the counter. “Can I change the music?” You ask, watching him walk over and open the right tab for you. You change the keyboard language to English, searching up a name so fast he doesn’t comprehend that the music already started. You walk away as he stays and reads the name off the screen.

Clementine – grentperez

He looks at you, who happened to already be waiting for him in the center of the room. He walks over, spinning you around and catching you, visibly surprised when the singing begins. “It’s in English?”

“Mhm.”

“Can you understand it?”

“A little bit. Otherwise, I like how it sounds. Can you understand it?”

“I’ve been getting better… at least I try to. It sounds good.”

“I should send you more of his works. I think you’d like those too.” You feel his arms wrap around your waist, pulling you close enough into a hug. “Is this okay?” He feels you nod against his chest, your arms wrapping up and around his neck as the two of you simply sway to the music that filled the room.

To be in Jongseob’s arms, your best friend’s arms, like this was something you didn’t know you wanted to experience for as long as you could. This felt intimate, feeling closer with him like this more than any other hug you’ve shared.

You two probably looked like idiots to anyone that would walk in, but it was just the two of you, and all you could think about was how comfortable it was in each other’s arms.

There’s a spark. A spark that turns into a growing flame when your eyes meet. A flame that you wanted to keep ablaze but was on the edge of extinguishing. “You… you look really pretty.” He suddenly stutters, the flame growing a little bit more. “Thank you.”

“I really want to kiss you. Really, really bad.”

His abruptness catches you off guard, and it’s almost funny how the song began to near its climax.

“I’m sorry, was that too forward? Forget I said–“

“No one’s stopping you.”

It’s so cliche how the song reached its peak when his lips are on yours. You both were young, yet your minds were older. To kiss someone at such a moment for the first time in your life only made you fall in love with him even more, and really, you never thought you’d experience it so soon. With an idol, no less.

“Kim Jongseob!”

The sound of his name makes both of you pull away and look at the door, Intak, Jiung, and Theo standing there like they’ve seen a ghost. “What the hell are you doing?!” Intak exclaims, probably more aggressive than he meant to.

You both stand there, dumbfounded, and it wasn’t until you were back in your head that you both decide to separate from each other instantly. They looked angry. They probably didn’t feel that way, but in the moment, you felt humiliated. One second later, your face is hidden in his chest again, feeling his other hand on your back.

“I’m sorry.” You mutter against him, his hand patting your back reassuringly. “No, there’s nothing for you to be sorry about.”

“Don’t you feel the slightest bit embarrassed? Your friends just walked in on us kissing.”

“Oh, I do, absolutely. They’ll never let me hear the end of it.” You look up at him, and he’s smiling. “Then why don’t you seem that way?”

“Because I was kissing you.” Your heart beats faster than it ever has before when you’re with him. “You’re the only girl they’d want to see me kiss in the first place. Lucky for you, you’re the only girl I’ll ever wanna kiss in my whole life.”

“Since when did you get so romantic?”

“Since the day I met you in this very studio.”

Your worries suddenly melt away at his words, further assured he feels the same way you do.

“I really don’t mean to interrupt this very sentimental moment, but we have practice, so can you guys hurry it up a little bit?” Intak speaks up, appearing behind Jongseob out of nowhere. You pull away, going to get your things in the corner of the room, realizing he was following you. “You’re not gonna stay?” He asks, holding onto your hand.

“I have schoolwork to do, ‘Seob. And I need to talk to my coworkers at my part-time.” He pouts. “I know there’s so much more we need to talk about, but I’m eating into your practice time right now. I’ll call you, okay? We see each other tomorrow. Promise.” You squeeze his hand, feeling his other hand on top of yours.

“I thought you already quit that job.”

“They’re still my friends. I check in with them from time to time.” He sighs. “Goodnight, Y/N.” He kisses your forehead before letting you go.

Once you’re out of sight of the doorway, you can’t help but giggle and jump around out of pure excitement. You catch sight of Keeho and Soul in the hallway, greeting them briefly. “What’s got you so excited?” Keeho asks.

“He kissed me.” You watch his expression change to match yours, jumping around with you in the middle of the hallway. “No way! Are you serious?”

“The rest of them walked in on us…”

“I’ve literally been waiting for months for him to make a move and the one time I decide to leave later– ugh, I’m so happy for both of you!”

“And then he…” You point to your forehead. “He…” Keeho puckers his lips while you nod, the both of you proceeding to squeal almost too loud in the hallway. “Girl, please, you two are literally so freaking cute, you need to tell me more!”

“I really need to leave, I’m sorry!”

“It’s okay, we’ll see you tomorrow!”

You’re on your way to the convenience store, relieved to see both Mun-Hee and Shin-Il behind the counter, both of them equally shocked to see you there. “Y/N! I thought you were working.” Shin-Il says.

“I need to tell you guys something. Can I still come back here?”

“No. But you used to work here, so whatever.” An indirect invitation to come behind the counter given by Mun-Hee. “Judging from the look on your face, you either made progress with Jongseob or made out with Jongseob.” She adds.

“I kissed him, thank you very much.”

“Oh, shit.” She curses. “And he did it first?” You nod. “Damn, girl! He’s really down bad for you!”

“Is he your boyfriend now? He should be.” Shin-Il asks. “We didn’t have time to talk about it… he’s in a dance practice right now and I promised I’d call him.”

“Honey, no. This is the kind of thing you talk about in person. If he’s really dedicated and really loves you, he’d tell you. But with the amount of times you’ve breached health protocols with something to say about him, I think he really does love you in that way. But still, call him later. You promised.”

“You give all this advice as if you’ve ever been in an actual relationship.” Shin-Il jokes, resulting in a death glare from the most helpful former coworker in the moment. “Listen to her, not me.”

“Obviously.”

The welcoming bell chimes as someone enters, coming to the counter as quick as they came in. Mun-Hee looks in awe at the person as he stops at the counter, face lighting up. “We still on for tonight?” He hands her two 5000 won bills.

“Mhm.” She says in the most obvious lovesick tone, sliding the man’s items back towards him as she gives him his change. “I’ll see you later, Mun.”

You hold back a laugh at the nickname, glancing between her and the man as he leaves the store.“Who even is that guy?”

“They’ve been hooking up but then they actually started liking each other for more than the sex. Total K-drama material.”

“She did not need to know that!”

“If she can tell us about her love life, I can tell her about yours.”

“This is something entirely different! And what about you? Does she know that your little girlfriend calls you Shinnie now?”

You can’t hold back your laughter. “Pfft– Shinnie!? You guys are so corny!”

“Don’t you call your boyfriend ‘Seob’?” Shin-Il retorts. “Okay, but that’s just his name shortened. At least she didn’t add or double anything to it.” Mun-Hee reasons, receiving an eye roll from her coworker.

“I can’t believe we’re all in relationships now.” She adds. “I can’t believe you’re in a relationship! You’re so grouchy all the time, it’s hard to believe anyone would love that. You too, Y/N! You’re only 18 and you already kissed someone.”

“You still haven’t kissed anyone at your old age?!” You exclaim.

Mun-Hee sighs. “Can you tell it’s been rough without you here?”

“Definitely.”

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

“So does my dad approve?”

You ask as Jongseob enters your bedroom, shutting the door gently before sitting across from you on your bed. “Of course he approved, I’m Kim Jongseob.”

Your dad had to go on another trip, which was prolonged, right after his first one due to a promotion offer that was promised if he continued to work efficiently overseas for a little longer. He got the promotion. He didn’t come back until mid-2021, and you didn’t tell him about your little relationship until today.

“I bet he’s pissed at me. I swore I meant to tell him, I just forgot.”

“He isn’t. He’s just… very surprised.”

“Understandable. I may or may not have rambled to him about you.”

“Did you say anything embarrassing?”

“No.”

“Then what did you say?”

“He asked me what I loved about you. It’s a long list.”

“We have time.”

He chuckles. “Okay, well, I said I love that you’re such a hard worker, and how devoted you are to anything that you do, how you never settle for less. How there’s a sparkle in your eye only I’m able to see when you get excited. How beautiful you are when you’re at your happiest, when you’re doing something that brings you comfort. Should I keep going?”

You’re too flustered to answer his question. “What did he say?”

“‘When’s the wedding?’”

You hit him playfully, hiding your face in the side of his arm, embarrassed that your face was so warm from something so simple. “You really noticed all of those little things?”

“Of course I did, you’re my girlfriend.”

You wanted to kiss him so bad in that moment, being interrupted by your mom barging in the room. She simply stares at both of you. “You’re nearly 19, I expect you to know what we don’t wanna hear in this house.” She closes the door, Jongseob getting up to lock it this time.

“My mom’s gonna get so suspicious next time she tries to open the door.”

“Valid. But we know our boundaries, don’t we?”

You fulfill what you imagined in your head, kissing him briefly and pulling away when you feel his hand tuck a strand of your hair behind your ear.

“Wanna know something?” He mutters.

“What?”

“I don’t think I could ever love someone else the same way I love you.”

“Is that so?”

“Honey, I admire you. You’re amazing.”

“Speak for yourself, mister. So talented and famous for it. I think we’ve been keeping these words bottled up for years when we were just friends.”

“Mhm. There’s so much more I wanna say.”

“We have time.”

“It’ll take all week.”

“I have all the time in the world when I’m with you.”

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

🐺: guys where is jongseob

🐶: is he not at y/n’s house??

🐺: we have a shoot tomorrow why is he at y/n’s house

🐿️: the shoot is next week are u dumb

🐺: damn bro mb

☀️: they’re gonna get married someday i just know it

🍟: he wanted her ring size (о´∀`о)

🐺: why is he there anyway??

☀️: he went to meet her dad

🐿️: OKAY JONGSEOB I SEE U MEETING THE FAMILY

🐯: are you guys talking bad about me

🐶: nah we’re just thinking about what kind of ring ur gonna get her

🐯: im still 18 calm down 💀 y/n’s dad said the same thing

☀️: even mr. l/n agrees

🍟: how is y/n?

🐯: she’s good, i actually might stay over tonight

🐺: WHAT

🐶: on a weekday is crazy

☀️: why arent u coming home?

🐯: she fell asleep on me i dont wanna wake her up

🐿️: do you have clothes?

🐯: 👍

🐶: bro is prepared he predicted this

🍟: say hi to her for me!!!!

🐯: alr goodnight guys im lowkey tired

🐺: jongseob sleeping early? thats new

🐯: i hope you have nightmares

and if you’re fadin’, then honey i’ll be fadin’ too. darling, i don’t even know who i am without you. 🎧

[chqnverse]

SUBBY CHAN!! subby chan pretty please. with maybe a bit of face riding 🤭

and you're writing is actually really good. so good. might have binge-read your works teehee

- 🫧 anon

𖥻 Reward

♡┊ 𝐂𝐇𝐐𝐍𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐒𝐄 ; bangchan x fem!reader

𝐒𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬 :: you asked your boyfriend to ride his pretty face :)

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠 :: smut ( 18+ ), switch!reader, switch!chan, face riding, reader has bigger thighs, they are whipped for each other, unprotected sex ( don’t do that !!! ), slight aftercare, I was in a mood while writing but oh well 🤷‍♀️

𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞 :: I turned your ask into a tiny drabble my lovely 🫧 anon I hope you like it tho ✨ I’m glad you enjoy my work so much bubs💕

You knew your boyfriend was handsome but the outfit he was wearing today did something with your brain…his hair looking ever so soft and the almost sheer top and the pretty necklace he was wearing was just beautiful. You’re so proud of Chan and the way his eyes sparkled when they won another award made your heart speed up. So you decided to treat your amazing boyfriend…when you both got home that day chan went to take a shower after giving you a passionate kiss. The way his lips feel against you made you feel butterflies in your stomach. So as soon as you hear the shower running and Chan’s soft humming you quickly change, pulling out your boyfriends favourite lingerie of yours a fully black set almost see through with tiny black bows on the straps of the bra and panties it was barely covering anything and it made you feel confident and pretty. You’re so focused on yourself in the mirror that you didn’t notice chan leaving the bathroom and walking over to you with a towel wrapped around his waist.

Chan swore his breathing stopped for a moment when he saw you standing there in front of your bedroom mirror. Chan loved when you felt good about yourself. He slowly walks up to you putting his hands around your waist. “To what do I owe the pleasure of this” Chan’s one hand pulling at the strap on the side of your underwear, you could feel his hot breath on your neck making you shiver. You slowly turn at to face Chan putting ur arms around his neck one hand playing with his soft hair. Chan hums in enjoyment at the front of your body pressed against his and your hand in his hair, his own hands started to wander around your body “wanted to give you a reward on your own baby” you whisper against his lips “so tell me Channie what do you want I will give you anything” you started kissing his neck, chan making room for you taking a few seconds to enjoy the feeling of your lips on him. “Anything Darling?” Chan asks when you look up at him with those pretty eyes of yours.

The movement of your hips was controlled by your boyfriend while you couldn’t even focus on anything that wasn’t his plush lips on your cunt, you already came twice on his face and each time chan hummed in delight when he tasted your sweet high on his tongue. His warm tongue moving inside you and his nose was pressed against your clit making you see stars. “God darling you taste like fucking heaven” chan said making you whine. Chan swears he was in heaven with your plush thighs wrapped around his face and the way your breast where moving together with the sounds that left your mouth made his dick impossibly harder “Channie please wanna fell you inside me” you whine hands gripping on this hair like they are your lifeline. Chan couldn’t resist the need longer, longing to be inside your pretty cunt. Chan’s pushes you downward to his hard length. “Do it pretty girl ride me” you didn’t need to be told twice and quickly sink down on him making Chan’s eyes roll back, the way you feel around him send him even closer to his orgasm.

The way he was hitting your sweet spot makes you clench even tighter around him. You could feel your orgasm on the tip of your tongue chan knew your body like the back of his hand “come for me pretty girl” he whispered before kissing you passionately. You couldn’t hold back anymore and let go feeling your sweet relief wash over you. Chan quickly falling over the edge with you keeping his length as deep as he could go inside your warmth. You’re slowly coming down from your shared high your arms wrapped tightly around Chan “are you okay darling?” He whispered not wanting to disturb your bliss. You nod slowly kissing his lips once more. “I’m so proud of you Channie” you whispered, making Chan smile and tighten his hold onto you.