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chaithetics · 2 days ago

Note

(3) Also, Logan knows that she’s pregnant and in that scene where they’re all together and start to give names to who’ll be sacrificed, someone mentions her and Logan immediately shuts them off “oh, that’s nice, throw the baby who’s pregnant and was never involved in the company as the sacrificial lamb!” but in a colorful, Logan Roy vocabulary. You’re a gem and I adore you!

Porcelain and the Shark: The Sleeping Lamb

Pairing: Stewy Hosseini x Porce (f) Roy Reader Word count: 3.1K Prompt: Combined with above and L to the OG's other prompt "Ken and Logan see Stewy at the end of S2. Porce is sleeping and he dismisses them, he's fuming as neither ask how she is." Warnings: Established relationship, children, anxious reader, reader is sick but pregnancy isn't confirmed, cursing, canon Succession family dynamics and angst. Roys being Roys! Some fluff. No descriptions of reader - you can imagine her as adopted, affair baby, different mother etc. A/N: We're so back... Happy Succession Sunday! L to the OG anon I hope you're still here! I'm so sorry how late this is, I promise the L to the OG request will be dropping shortly 👀 I can't believe this is the first Porce and the Shark fic of the year! I'll drop more I promise! I hope everyone enjoys this! Comments and reblogs are appreciated 🫶

The warm sun was meant to help, all the fresh air out of the concrete jungle gym should be doing more for you but you were laying in bed at the glamorous hotel with the doors wide open and a large glass filled with water and electrolytes. You’d felt ill for a couple of days now. Migraine, nausea - all of it.

Jonathan was next to you colouring in and singing some song from the children’s film he’d watched last night and Tillie was fortunately napping. You’d hated feeling faint but it’s how you felt so you curled up more and watched Jonathan, your eyelids starting to feel heavy.

“Here, honey.” Stewy says as he walks over with a cold compress and gently places it on your forehead.

“Thanks.” You whisper and squeeze his warm hand.

Stewy leans down and kisses your cheek, despite feeling ill your lips quirk up with a smile at the feeling of his facial hair brushing against your skin. It’s a guaranteed, natural response now.

Anxiety normally simmered throughout your body and fogged up your mind but feeling nauseous and had clouded over that for once. It also helped that you’d changed your anxiety medication a few months ago and that seemed to be helping but being away from your family as they were on some overpriced boat that some pod of orcas had their eye on helped. But you still couldn’t help but worry about Roman, that stress definitely wasn’t helping the nausea flipping around in your stomach.

Under other circumstances you’d cross firing lines to text him and make a joke about the orca pod watching them, he’d have found that that funny. If you’d sent it in the cursed Roy sibling group chat, Kendall would take the joke too far and Shiv’s white woman neoliberalism would be offended at being lumped in with those rich people. She was different of course.

Connor had called her when they knew Roman was safe and was coming with them, something you were deeply grateful for. You’d texted Roman, the youngest of your older brothers, and just been met with a thumbs up emoji and then two minutes later a middle finger emoji.

“Heard anything from Romey?” Stewy asks as he sits down on the bed next to you, he caresses your arm gently, the touch of his fingers so soft against your skin. He still makes your cheeks heat up and skin tingle.

“No.” You whisper as you shake your head slightly against the pillow. “Just the emojis.” You sigh and as your head shifts so does the compress, Stewy gently fixes it and just nods. He looks out the window.

He leans back slightly, laying on the bed. Stewy tilts his head back to watch you and smiles. He rubs your leg gently as he watches you.

“Draw a chicken, mommy, please!” Jonathan says after a moment holding the paper out for you and a red pencil.

You smile at him and Stewy smiles and scoffs. “Come on, mommy’s not feeling so great, can I draw a chickie for you?” Stewy asks, looking at Jonathan, the little boy, a younger mirror to his own face.

Jonathan giggles and shakes his head, his dark curls bouncing as his small face screws up in cheeky delight.

“No! Mommy’s chickens are better!” Jonathan says and giggles, and blows a raspberry at his father. Stewy chuckles and blows a raspberry back and then looks at you.

“You don’t need to draw, love.” Stewy says gently as you take the piece of paper.

“It’s fine…” You say smiling at Stewy and then giving your biggest smile to Jonathan who raises his shoulders up and smiles back.

You chuckle and quickly sketch a chicken and some other animals for Jonathan to colour in, it’s been one of his newest hobbies. Requesting you and Stewy to draw things for him to then replicate and sketch in.

“Thanks, mommy.” Jonathan says as he presses his face near yours as he watches you draw, his eyes widening in excitement as you finish up his chicken. He loves it and as he’s made clear, you’re more artistically inclined than Stewy.

Jonathan starts to colour in the chicken, his tongue is stuck out as he does his best to stay in the lines. It’s a cute sight to see. Stewy watches too, he chuckles and ruffles Jonathan’s curls as he then looks at his phone.

It’s a text that Kendall and Logan want a meeting, his eyes scan over each word, gaging how fucked Kendall is. Your tired eyes flick over to Stewy, noticing how quiet he’s gotten. “Everything okay?” You whisper softly, reaching your hand out to Stewy’s, he fully accepts the gesture and you intertwine your fingers together.

“Yeah, uh, Ken and your dad. They’re apparently coming out, want to meet.” He says, looking away from his screen to your face, giving you a small smile.

“Oh? Oh…” You answer. He rubs his thumb over your hand and you give him a smile that doesn’t quite reach your eyes as you take that in. It seemed like a red flag, a major red flag being waved off of a boat. You weren’t sure what to make of it all.

“Don’t worry, I can tell them to leave. To not even bother, babe.” Stewy says, giving you a reassuring smile, he loves you, he can notice any sign of anxiety coming out and he can see your brow starting to slightly furrow.

“No-no- it’s… it’s fine. Just, peace yeah? Olive branches, all that stuff… And, see how Ken is?” You ask softly, blinking frantically as your mind travels all over the things to worry about and think about.

“You sure? You’ll be okay?” “Yeah, we’ll just nap, sleep. All the fun stuff for bonding.” You smile.

The proxy battle had been an adjustment, one that had made the already tense and unstable Roy dynamics a million times more complex.

Stewy blinks for a second and then nods. “Yeah, yeah sure.” He leans over and kisses your lips softly, he doesn’t care if this nausea is from some bug you’re going to pass to him. If so, he hopes it somehow reaches Kendall and your father. “You’ll be good?” He asks and you nod.

It was a beautiful day, sunny and warm and this was not how Stewy wanted to be spending it.

“Thanks for meeting man.” Kendall puts a hand out as if everything is water under the bridge.

“Please. Please, please, please.” Stewy immediately goes into the hospitable host mode he was raised to be second nature. “Come, come, come. How are you, Sir?” He puts his hand out for his cold father-in-law. “Please take a seat.”

“You guys need anything?”

“Yeah, don’t wait for us or anything.” Stewy laughs and Kendall laughs for a brief moment too.

“I waited, but I was really hungry, so I ate with my family. Precious, precious moments.” Stewy tilts his head, giving them a smile that feels smug but never reaches his eyes. His brown pupils that you adore burn with proud frustration.

His words are pointed. All three of them are fathers but the words don’t really register for Kendall who is just looking for a lifeline but they ring loud in old Logan’s ears. And they piss him off.

“You guys good? You need anything?” He says as he blinks and shifts back into a generous host for the Roys and toes the fine line between this shit show.

“Uh maybe in a minute.” Kendall says.

Logan doesn’t say anything and looks unhappy to be there. Kendall gives his father a look and jumps right into business. “Well uh look,” Kendall flicks his hand, Stewy flicks his tongue, his face focusing on Kendall and the good humour gone. It’s serious now, nobody thought this would be a friendly visit after all. It never is with the Roys.

“We both know it’s a- it’s a knife edge. You may have it, we may have it. Our proxy advisors tell us we probably have it.”

“Mm-hm.” Stewy hums as he nods and picks his wine glass up. Neither Ken or Logan have reached for their glasses.

“And, um…” Kendall looks at his father and smacks his lips, Logan’s completely unresponsive, acting oblivious to the whole thing. “Dad?”

“You look a little sweaty, dude.” The subtle indicators of a smirk slowly start to form as Stewy says it to Kendall. He wipes it as he turns to face Logan and sips from his wine glass.

“Okay. Okay. So I’ve come to make a deal. This isn’t a negotiation. It’s a one-bang final-deal offer and it’s generous. So don’t insult me with a counter.” Stewy listens to Logan speak with an almost blank expression on his face while he places the glass down and picks up a piece of lavender from the arrangement on the table and lifts it to his nose.

Jonathan had been doing that earlier, it had been pretty cute when Jonathan noticed the smell and then he had to wave them around and press it to everyone’s nose. Stewy doesn’t let the joy of that memory come through, but it’s so much nicer to think about than this. “I say this, we eat some octopi, we shake hands. Okay?”

“Okay, I love that. I really do.” Stewy says as he puts the lavender stem down and drops it in front of his plate and pushes it forward a tad, he has no intention of sharing a meal with Logan and Kendall. Why do such a thing when the past exists?

“Three board seats, including Ken’s.” Stewy shares a very loud knowing look with Ken who is silent. “You get a codified say in the appointment of our next CEO. We remove our poison Bill, conduct a strategic review on terms co-set with you, dismiss all our litigation on the proxy battle. Spin off cruises, okay?” Stewy’s looking less impressed now, even less so than how he felt when the message for this conversation made it into his inbox. He pauses and looks over his shoulder as if thinking, as if he was ever going to say anything different. “No, I don’t think that works.”

“The fuck do you mean?” Kendall immediately blurts out.

“Bullshit. Are you fucking stupid?” Logan takes his sunglasses off and looks pissed. “You have to consider that. You have to ask Sandy. That is a good fucking deal.”

“It does not work for us, Sir.” He uses sir to still be respectful, even with this vile monster of a man. But he enunciates and pauses between each word to let them all sink in like rocks being thrown into water.

“Dude, I mean, are-are you fucking for real? I mean you-you need to fucking make it work. Okay? Or I will personally fucking destroy you. I will come to you at night-” “Ken, it does not work.” He enunciates each word again to really hit Kendall in the face with it.

“With a fucking razor blade and I will cut your fucking dick off.” “Fucking dick off.” Stewy says at the same time to finish Kendall’s sentence.

“And I will feed it-” “And then push it up your cunt until poo poo pops out of my nose hole” Stewy shakes his head a little to give it a dramatic flourish. “Dude it doesn’t matter, it doesn’t mean anything. You can threaten to stuff a million severed dicks into my ball bag but the actual fact is we’re persuading more and more shareholders every day that we offer them just a slightly better chance for them to make a little bit more money on their fucking dollar. And that’s all that this is.”

Logan’s silent with his elbows at the table, staring at his son-in-law. Stewy’s fuming internally but he doesn’t let it show, he’s not impulsive like the Roy children but it’s rude. It’s terrible manners to have your elbows on the table like that and Stewy can’t help but imagine a younger you getting scolded for something like that.

He chews on the inside of his cheek and he can’t help but add it. They haven’t once asked about you, the daughter, the sister. Nothing, no concern, not even fake bullshit niceties. It’s an offence that they can’t even pretend to care for a second. Especially when he knows for a fact that Connor would’ve made some comment about you feeling ill, the nausea, the terrible headache and vomiting.

Even if you weren’t ill, they still should’ve asked. It’s the bare minimum. Stewy’s eyes flick down to the table for a second and he picks the lavender stem back up. It smells peaceful, the opposite of this. He’s sure that when you go back home you and Jonathan will want to have lavender planted on the balcony and holiday home.

“Really sweet of you both to come out and you know check on your family.” Stewy says as he twirls the lavender in his hand almost absentmindedly. He thinks about picking it apart, biting it. “She’s - your sister and your daughter - she’s doing just great. Nauseous and fatigued beyond your imagination, which I’m sure you’re both worried about. But Jonathan and Tillie are well, thank you for asking.” He stops twirling the lavender and tilts his head, he looks at Kendall for a moment, what a shadow of a man. “The Roys really know how to mix business and pleasure, right?”

It was a stupid suggestion. Something unsurprising from cousin Greg but still mind boggling, he’d really outdone himself this time. When all the Roys and evil henchmen had sat around the cursed table of fate, Greg had panicked more than usual when Roman had suggested adding ‘Greg sprinkles’ to the Waystar Royco ™ guillotine.

Greg had fumbled over his words and messily brought you up as a suggestion to be the sacrificial lamb. He weakly argued that you were a traitor for being Stewy’s wife and that was motive enough. None of it was plausible and before Greg could even string a full, coherent sentence together it had already brought a hyena laugh out of Roman, Kendall had just looked down and shook his head.

“Fucking great! Hats off to that, have you seen her? Throw my own weakling daughter off - who’s probably fucking pregnant again - the only one who has actually given me some fucking grandchildren!” He spits out with venom.

It’s a pointed shot at all of them, not a single Roy is truly in Logan’s good books. Tom stays silent but side eyes Shiv but she keeps her composure. She will not let them reduce her to a mother, it’s a pigeon hole she’ll avoid at all costs to keep the seat she’s only just clawed out for herself at the table. Kendall looks down because the blow hits him the most. Roman stops laughing and watches his siblings.

“But oh willy-nilly-” Logan waves his hands, mocking them all. “Lets throw her, my fragile fucking blood that’s never been involved with the company as the sacrificial lamb on the rock. I’m not some fucking Abraham.” Logan’s eyes are wide and brimming with anger, he smashes his fist onto the table and glares at them all. All of the Roy children are looking down like they’ve been scolded, even though it was Greg.

“Porce did have an internship in the publishing press during college, didn’t she?” Frank asks, thinking he’s somewhat more untouchable than Roy blood.

“Gerri,” Logan’s tone is icy. “How does Frank look? What’s the angle there?”

“How did it go?” You ask Stewy, sitting up and sipping some more water, starting to feel more and more human as the day went on but still nauseous.

“Yeah, super! It was great, got to hear a lot of bad words from uncle Ken we can’t let his little ears hear.” Stewy says as he playfully puts his hands over Jonathan’s ears. You sigh and playfully roll your eyes.

Jonathan giggles and squirms to move away from his father’s hands but Stewy just chuckles and starts to tickle Jonathan.

It isn’t long after this that your phone starts to vibrate with notifications. Shiv has texted you asking what the fuck is going on, that Ken and your father won’t tell her what happened after visiting Stewy and she only found out from Roman that they saw Stewy. She’s scared about Tom. Then there’s a call from Connor. You answer him before thinking about replying to Shiv. You don’t want to be petty but your peace is worth protecting, it’s the first text from her in 6 weeks.

Connor relays the sacrificial lamb conversation back to you. You’re kind of surprised that your father defended you but you’re not surprised that it was nasty and took shots at your siblings. Especially when the subject of Kendall’s fertility and children is a tense and sensitive one that’s weaponised often and feels heavy even in the subtle moments.

Jonathan’s napping when this happens, you have the phone on speaker. Stewy’s listening quietly, gently rubbing your thigh as he concentrates. It’s easier to hear as Connor is whispering, he isn’t even sure if he’s really meant to be talking about this with you but it can’t wait for next Tuesday’s brunch and he’s also giving you whiplash by occasionally interjecting with his anxieties over Willa’s Broadway debut.

You tell him it can’t be that bad and that you and Stewy will see it when you’re back in New York. You try to reassure him and after a while you rub your forehead and hang up. You turn to look at Stewy and sigh.

He scrolls through his phone and then looks at you with raised eyebrows, a bemused expression.

“It can’t be that bad, Willa’s not terrible.” You say, tilting your head and snuggling into his side. Stewy raises his eyebrows at you and smirks.

“Wanna bet that for a smooch?” He teases and smiles more, his eyes are clearly saying it’s terrible.

“No… It can’t be…” You quickly take his phone to go through the review and you swear you’ve just gone through most of the phases of grief and several other emotions reading that. You look up at Stewy and then chuckle. “Shit…”

“Yeah…” He says and then lifts your arm up to his lips. Stewy starts to kiss from the tip of your index finger to your hand and then along your wrist and up your arm. You smile, feeling your cheeks heat up as he presses tender kisses up your arm.

“I’m just cashing in on that little bet as much as I can.” He teases.

Lovingly tagging people who have interacted in the past (if you want to be removed lmk :)) : @ateliefloresdaprimavera @nadja-antipaxos @thegildedblogger @peachhiz @coocoolahh

@inknopewetrust @mittos @616wilsons @jolie989 @biblichorr

@foreverasleep717 @punisherinthealps

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witchqueen · 5 months ago

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Does anyone have any tips to help stop yourself from comparing your artwork to others, or equating your value as an artist with likes and reblogs?

I've struggled with this for a while and it's getting old, I don't know how to just shrug it off. Any genuine advice would be nice

#its just bygging me bc i know rationally they dont matter i knoe they dont #but i still feel it in my bones that im not good enough because my work doesnt circulate on platforms #i paint for fun and then i post and i get these feelings and theyre so goddamn annoying #i know to just keep posting anyway and try to enjoy the ride but my Depression Brain is such an asshole #i wish it would be quiet #i never used to feel this way either until likes and reposts/reblogs became so integral to social media #on top of needing commissions to get by while looking for work and attending school soon #idk maybe this is just a vent and ik no one can Fix it that simply #i guess im just speaking 2 the void rn and maybe others feel the same #*bugging #and i really am so grateful just to know anyone likes it or comments on it and reading feedback really really means so much #but i feel like unless im pumping out specific fandom stuff that doesnt really happen #but the negative thoughts and feelings can b rly strong sometimes and im just tired #im sure this is a depression thing too #hoping i can get into therapy thru school but it depends on finances as everything else in this world does 🫠#ill keep going tho #and please if you are someone who does comment or reblog and say something about the work please do not ever stop #it means so much to me and others im positive it does #i see you and i appreciate you so so much #thank you and thank you to anyone who reads or comments some ideas

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bunnys-kisses · 2 months ago

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some women don't want the bear

john 'soap' mactavish

cw: smut/pwp, predator/prey, cnc, roleplay/fantasy, forest sex, messy sex, unprotected sex, after care, gunplay, degrading language, dirty talk, (partially) clothed sex, pussy slapping, filth (!!!)

bunny says! reblogs, tags & comments feed the rabbit!

you never really thought about scotland having forests. you always imagined the rolling plains and large cows. not dense forests as you hastily ran pass trees and tried not to trip over roots.

your heart was racing, your breathing ragged. you needed to get away from the man in the woods. he had found you cabin for the week and had tried to get his way inside. the only way for you was out the door and into the forests before he could harm you.

"shit, shit, shit." you panted as you tried to get further into the forest, only getting more lost. you felt panic all of as you ended up in a clearing.

you wanted to scream for help, but no one would hear you. you were a lost little thing, all alone in the woods with a big scary man. a man who wanted to take you apart.

your knees felt weak as you looked around, the afternoon light shined through the thick foliage of the trees. you eventually crumbled to your knees like a dying deer when you heard the snap of a twig nearby. you quivered and whimpered when the heavy footsteps came closer.

you felt yourself be yanked by the hair and forced to look up at the man in front of you. you bottom lip wobbled, "please don't kill me, sir."

he chuckled and tapped his pistol to your nose, "cute. i don't like 'em dead, bonnie. i like 'em when they struggle." then pressed the gun to your lips, "c'mon. be a good little whore and suck. or i'll find another way to get this thing wet." his eyes cast down to your lap.

you carefully licked the gun and the intruders eyes were on you. his blue eyes gleamed like sapphires, full of danger. you never got his name as you continued to suck off his gun.

you prayed it wasn't loaded.

"pretty girl for me." he said, "bet you're popular with the boys at uni." he laughed before he used his other hand to comb his fingers through your hair, "don't worry about that. once i get my seed planted in ya, you'll be too tired to think about other boys while you're chasin' my boys around." he pinched your cheek, "hard to finish school when you're nursing one babe and pregnant with another." he chuckled.

you hated how hot it felt. it flooded your core and made your face hot all over. your heart raced as you continued to lick the weapon.

his words kept coming, "you, me and our little mission to repopulate that big cabin you were staying in. you were tempting me with that, one woman doesn't need that many rooms. you were hoping i'd come and give you an excuse to fill 'em up. better i come and seed that little cunt of yours before a big bear or something comes and does it instead.' he laughed at the improbability of that.

you looked up at him, your eyes gleamed in the afternoon light and it made the intruder's cock twitch in his pants. he patted your cheek a little harder than you liked before he wanted you to have the real thing.

he tossed the weapon to the side and pushed you down onto your back. he got on top of you and he could feel the heat of your core through those thin tights. he didn't give it much time before he ripped the cheap fabric at the crotch, followed by your panties ending up in tatters too at the seam.

"good hold you got there, bonnie." he purred, "a nice tight little cunt that i'm gonna enjoy ruining." he chuckled as he sank two thick fingers into your sweet puffy hole. he sank in like a hot knife cut butter, "oh, someone's a little whore, huh? do you let all the big scary men of the forest fuck you? or am i just special." he smiled with all teeth and you felt wetness grow between your legs.

he crowded your space, his weight on top of you kept your pinned. you weren't as strong or as big as him. he was muscular with a mohawk and a tattoo. you could already feel his length pressing against you through his jeans.

he was going to split you in half with that thing!

"ya want it, bonnie? do you want me to fuck you raw. ruin you for any other man so much so that another man could even breed you. get that pretty cunt addicted to my cum." he patted your pussy before he sank his fingers back into you, now using his thumb to play with your clit.

you sent electricity through you, you tried to find some support from the forest floor to get yourself out from under him. but there was no escaping him. you were going to be bred by this monster.

you wanted to hit him, but he was a bulk of solid muscle. you would break your hands before you made any dent in him. you laid there and kicked out your legs but you were pinned under him.

he took his fingers out of your slick pussy and licked your wetness off of them letting out a soft moan, you tasted so good. he said, "a wife's gotta taste good, even when heavy with bairn." then placed a broad hand on your stomach as he got his cock out of his blue jeans.

the birds chirped and the sun beamed down on you as you laid in the mess of leaves and twigs. you could feel the man's heavy gaze on you. you swallowed at the sight of his cock, it was thick. you swore his balls were heavy, ready for breeding.

he kept his hand on you as he guided his cock into your sweet, slick pussy. he groaned a little bit as he pushed into you. your pussy felt so good enough his cock.

he chuckled, "where have you been all my life?" his pace skipped pleasantries and soon he was bullying it deep into your womb, "a pretty little thing to breed and keep. you, me and a bunch of babies." he was so large compared to you, you couldn't fight him off. he looked like a military man, even if you could get out from under him, he would stalk you through the forest. he groaned, "you're so good for me, lettin' me use that sweet cunt of yours. i'll keep this little cunt." he patted it before he gave it a firm slap.

you panted and squirmed under him, a fruitless attempt as he fucked you with a fury that you couldn't find words for. his cock felt like it was in the back of your throat.

the harshness of his thrusts made your head spin as you gripped onto him and tried to get him off of you. but he wasn't going anywhere, he was too busy having his cock into you. he wasn't going anywhere until he was finished with you.

you were his now.

regardless the pleasure coursed through you and the pace made you hot all over. the feeling was overwhelming and you knew you wouldn't last long. you panted and moaned, your entire body was burning from the intense pleasure.

"please." you whimpered.

"what?" he asked, curious what you had to say.

"please don't kill me." you whimpered.

"no, no.. shh, shh. no way." he said, his voice overly sweet, "i would never. now c'mon, bonnie. cum for your husband." as he continued to thrust up against you cunt.

you then gripped onto the forest floor as best as you could and arched your back. you then climaxed. you felt your body betray you as your pussy clenched around him as you it all became too much. you felt like an animal being bred in the forest. "fuck." you gasped.

"so good. fuck, i'm gonna ruin that little pussy. don't worry, bonnie.

he spurted inside of you with a heavy grunt before he slowed to a stop. his heart hammered in his chest as he admired the sight of you. he gave you pussy a firm slap before he pulled out.

"good girl." and after that, the little roleplay ended. and the man you loved came back. he got you in his arms as he kissed at your face, you were still in a state of bliss as your orgasm still came through you.

johnny then picked the twigs out of your hair, he got his jacket around your shoulders. he may have gone a little over kill with ripping your leggings and panties. but you were safe with him now.

"did you like that?" he asked as he rubbed your shoulders before he helped you onto your shaky legs. he'd carry you if he had to, that what was what a husband did for his wife.

even if she wanted to have crazy, kinky forest sex during their honeymoon. but he'd have to admit, it did excite him too. using those skills of his to good use. so before he picked you up and brought you back to the cabin for some nice tea and food, he waited to give him a response.

you looked up at him, as if your cheek was scraped from the debris on the forest floor. your eyes gleamed, almost excitingly as you said, "can we do that again sometime?" <3

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peachysunrize · 3 months ago

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[ TANGERINE DREAMS ]

Summary: being stood up on his wedding day, Aemond’s life takes a turn for the worse. Heartbroken and humiliated, he finds unexpected help in Helaena’s childhood friend, who helps him move back into his family mansion. Summer cocktail parties and a long stay at the Targaryen residency, Aemond might let the girl who’s always been in his life make a home in his heart.

Tangerines, in general, symbolize prosperity, good luck and happiness. So if these delicious fruits appear in your dreams - whole or in the form of juice - it is usually very positive. A dream with tangerines expresses the desire and the possibility of progress and prosperity

Word count: 5.1k+

Warnings: tensionnnnnn, alcohol consumption (just wine) & fluff! English isn’t my first language <3

A/n: ‘m not gonna say anything more than just that ITS THE BEGINNING OF SOMETHING NEW!! Reblog & comments are most appreciated🍊🧡

Taglist: if you’d like to be tagged in the future chapters, please fill this form with your username!

Updates: every Saturday!!

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Chapter 3: The beginning of something new

He leans back on the chair, his book abandoned next to him on the desk as he carves a line on the wooden pallet, his glasses on the bridge of his nose, the sound of wood getting cut echoing in the old workshop.

He’s been here since early morning, all of his thoughts are consumed by you and your talk a few days ago. There’s still a part of him that is immensely guilty for how he treated you, especially after you told him about that Lannister boy.

He is heard and understood, maybe not by someone he expected, but the sweetness and calmness in this revelation makes it more special. You’ve been in the background image of his life for so long, someone always present yet too far and out of reach. But now, you’ve turned into someone important, someone he can rely on and trust wholeheartedly.

He sighs, letting the chisels fall from his hand on the table as he stretches his arms, groaning as he cracks his back and slowly lumps in the chair, glancing at Vhagar who does the same and slowly walks towards him, jumping on him to cuddle — the chair is so little to have them both sitting on it together, so Aemond has to hold Vhagar to his chest with a hand under her belly while she rests her head on his forearm as the other hand rubs slowly circle on her back.

Vhagar barks suddenly, jumping down to go near the door, alerting Aemond that someone is coming. He also stands up, grabs his abandoned book from the table, and walks towards Vhagar who is clawing at the door before he opens it and lets her out, locking the door workshop’s door behind him.

He follows her, watching as she bolts through the bushes and trees to reach whoever is approaching them. He hears your voice, melodically and softly when you start talking to Vhagar, giggling and letting her probably lick your face.

“Morning!” You say as soon as you spot him, strengthening your back before you stand up, holding two cups of coffee in your hands, “I couldn’t find you in the library, so I thought you’re probably taking a walk with your old lady.”

“Yeah,” he chuckles, “we had an early morning, and she gets restless and impatient when she doesn’t set foot outside.”

“Here’s your coffee, little nerd,” you hand him his cup, stepping closer to him until you’re only mere inches away from him, looking up at him through your lashes.

Aemond’s break is stuck in his throat as he looks down at you, he gulps when he sees you reach for his face, pushing his glasses up so he sees better. Your touch is warm against his skin, but your smile is warmer, more welcoming than anything he’s ever seen.

Get a grip, he thinks to himself as he thanks you quietly, clearing his throat before he wraps his long fingers around the hot mug.

“Let’s take a walk, shall we?” He asks, glancing back at the workshop door quickly.

“What’s that?” You turn around and follow his gaze, pointing at the door hiding behind the trees.

“Oh, um, that…” he rubs the back of his neck nervously, “nothing, just an abandoned storeroom,” Aemond shrugs, the book in his hands falling to the ground as his palm grows clammy.

“Shit—“

“It’s okay, I’ve got it,” you crouch down to grab the book, smiling softly when you look up and find Aemond turning red with embarrassment, especially when you glance at the book in your hand, “No way.”

“Give me that, please—“ he tries to snatch it out of your hand, but you hold it behind your back, biting your lip to stop yourself from grinning, taking a sip from your coffee to hide your smile, “tell me why you are reading Maester Orwyle’s book of Philosophy!”

“To kill some time, now please—“ he sighs, gesturing to you to give him the book by his hand while the ghost of a smirk finds its way to his face, “Don’t be ridiculous and give me the book so we can both go back to the house.”

“Nope,” you take a step away from him and he matches your huge grin as he extends his hand again, “if you want it, you should come get it.”

“Come on,” Aemond groans, “I’m not the five-year-old kid who used to chase you around the house to steal one of your books!”

“I’m not saying you should chase me, but maybe say please a few more times then I’ll agree—no!” You squeal when he leans over and snatches the book out of your hands, his tall and lean frame making it impossible for you to hold it back anymore, “You’re no fun!”

“Someone has to be the adult of this friendship,” he says, securing the book under his arm as he walks ahead of you, turning around to look at you, pointing at the path in front of you with his head, “Come on.”

“Fine, fine!” You laugh, following him towards the path leading to the backyard and the Weirwood tree.

The sound of friendship left a bittersweet taste in his mouth, something he only felt when Alys would give him backhanded compliments, but he knows you, maybe even much better than he ever knew his ex-fiance, and with the talk you had a few days ago, he is left confused. Not by your actions no, but by your words; it is hard to find someone who’s had the same experience, especially with someone so understanding and willing to share them.

“Don’t sulk now, Little nerd,” you bump your shoulder to him, watching him take a long sip of his coffee, “tell me about the book, it mustn’t be the first time you’re reading it.”

“Of course not,” he sighs and continues, “he was a friend of my grandfather, no one knows what happened to their friendship after this book was written, but apparently all the answers are in this—“

“You can’t be reading this giant hard-to-swallow book just because you wanna know about your grandpa's failed friendship,” you wiggle your eyebrows at him, “come on, tell me the truth!”

“No,” he gives you a pointed look, “this is the truth.”

“Alright,” you smile at him, not wanting to pressure him if he truly doesn’t wish to explain it, walking side by side with him until the trees are behind you except the Weirwood tree that looks so beautiful under the morning sunlight.

“The coffee is perfect…” he hums in delight as he glances at you, holding the mug in one hand with his arm keeping the book rightly against his body while he puts his right hand on the small of your back, walking slowly to your right side to be able to look at you more comfortably.

“My goodness, Aemond, I’m so sorry I didn’t realize—“ you try to apologize but he cuts you off with a slow shake of his head.

“It’s okay, don’t fret about it,” he rubs circles on your waist as you walk towards the house, the sunshine casting a glow on your face, and he fights off a smile when he sees how your eyes shine, “how did you find out I like my coffee with three sugars?”

“You’re not too hard to read,” you chuckle a little leaning to his side as he keeps his palm secured on your waist, “I observe people, mostly my friends and I wanted to make sure you were alright after everything, so I kept a close eye on you. Turns out you have a horrible sweet tooth!”

“You haven’t seen the worst of it yet,” he teases you, finishing his coffee in a sip, “Hel and I used to bake together, a silly hobby she took when Viserys and Mum separated. It was only simple cakes and bread but you know me, I can’t settle for less than perfection.”

“So you started to get better and better.”

“Yeah, it turns out Hel & I would make an excellent team, many of the birthday cakes were on us,” he explains, handing you the book so you’d hold it for him so he can open the door for you when you reach the building, “if you’re lucky, you’ll get a special birthday cake from me one day.”

“Stop being so talented—oh, fuck—“ you yell in shock when Vhagar runs past the two of you, knocking to your legs, making you lose your grip on your coffee and having it spill on Aemond’s book.

“I’m so sorry, fuck, I should have finished it first…” your voice grows quieter as you open the drenched book, reading the first page’s note, “Is this…?”

“Yeah,” he nods, rubbing the back of his neck bashfully, “it’s yours.”

“No wonder I was looking for it when I got back home after another vacation spent here,” you laugh, tracing your finger over the blue note, “I caught you reading it in your old stable. Why would you go there to read?” It was full of horseshit, yet you seemed to like it.”

“Well, it was the only place no one seemed to want to spend any time there. Best place to read the book I stole from you,” he follows you inside the building to the kitchen to leave your cups there, “besides, you’d find me and discuss the book anyway, maybe I wanted you to find me.”

“You seem to enjoy that, don’t you? Me always finding you?” You ask him after you put the book on the kitchen island, turning around to look at him.

It seems like he has caged you with his body, he is standing close, probably closer than he should but not too much to deem it inappropriate for friends, and when you look up at him, he is sure the distance between the two of you has decreased considerably — physically and mentally.

“I like the idea,” he whispers, his good eye never leaving your face as you stare at each other before he clears his throat and pulls away a bit, giving you an awkward smile, “I think Hel and others are in the TV room.”

You nod hesitantly, moving past him towards the other room, leaving him alone in the kitchen. He sighs shakily, swallowing the lump in his throat before he decides to join you after he puts his cup away.

When he enters the room he finds you leaning on the back of the coach and Helaena is curled up on your side with Dreamfyre resting her head on Hel’s calves. His brothers are playing yet another round of Mortal Kombat — which he is sure Aegon insisted on. He looks around for Vhagar, and when he can’t find her, he assumes she must be in the library, taking her morning nap.

“Morning.”

“Hey, Aemy!” Aegon greets him, “We thought you were kidnapped when you didn’t join us for breakfast.” “Fuck off, I don’t have the patience to deal with you today,” Aemond grumbles, throwing his head back, and closing his eye before he is hit by a cushion, followed by a loud snort and soft giggles from you and Helaena, “What the fuck was the for?”

“You need to have patience! This is our summer, we will be annoying you until you give up this crappy attitude and enjoy your time with us here! Who knows when we’ll gather together like this again! You live here now with Daeron and Mum, I live in Oldtown, She,” Helaena points at you, “lives in Rosby, and Aegon… well he floats around the country.”

“I have a home, you little bitch—” “Doesn’t seem like it when you constantly show up at our places,” you say, earning a loud gasp from Aegon before he pouts and rolls his eyes at you, turning around towards Daeron with a glare when he laughs at him before he says ‘I’m gonna kick your ass’ and they start playing again.

“You know what we should do this week?” Helaena asks suddenly, sitting up with glee, “Aegon should throw one of his infamous parties! That way not only our dear brother will get better and forget about everything even for a few hours, but we get to have some fucking fun!”

“I thought you didn’t like parties,” Daeron pauses the game, turning around to give his sister a pointed look. Aemond does the same, but instead, he glances at you and finds you already looking at him, giving him a tight-lipped awkward smile before the two of you look away from each other and focus on Helaena.

“I do! But that doesn’t mean I loathe them, besides, Aegon’s parties are fun, they are not like Mum’s when we have to sit in awfully formal clothes, sipping on champagne like high-class ladies.”

“I hate to break it to you, babe, but you are a high-class lady,” you say, earning a nod from everyone in the room.

“That’s not my point,” she groans, chuckling when you side-eye her, “I just wanna have fun, and Aegon is fun—” “Did you hear that, pirate?” Aegon points at Aemond, laughing when he is met with a glare from his younger brother, “She thinks I’m fun, not you, me!”

“Don’t make her change her mind,” Aemond sighs, sneering at his older brother. “Aemond is fun, mind you,” you defend him, giving Aegon a pointed look which makes Daeron laugh out loud, “You are just too chaotic to understand him.” “And you do?” Aegon scoffs, and Aemond senses something is going to happen, that his brother can’t simply keep his large mouth shut, “his fiance didn’t find him fun—” “Jeez, Aegon!” Daeron yells, face twisted in disbelief.

“What is your fucking problem?” you ask him, scoffing at Aegon’s scared look, “You are always mean to him.” “I am not!” “Shut the fuck up I’m talking,” Aemond looks at you, surprised by your outburst, “he needs your support more than ever, his face and his life are now all over the fucking internet! Have you considered how hurt he must be? Of course, you haven’t because you don’t think. He doesn’t need to be reminded of what happened constantly when he is trying his best to move on!”

“I—” Aegon can’t say anything as he looks at you like you have grown another head.

Aemond is as equally shocked as others, he fights off a huge smile as he watches you defend him, his lips parted in surprise, jaw on the floor while you talk and put Aegon in his place.

“Morning my loves,” Alicent comes to the rescue, looking around the room to find Helaena and Aemond looking at you with a pleased smile while Aegon shrinks under your gaze and Daeron nearly falls on the floor with how hard he’s laughing, “What’s going on here?” “I thought maybe I could throw a party!” Aegon speaks, avoiding your gaze as he looks at his mum, “A month has passed from summer and I have yet to throw one of my infamous spontaneous parties!” “Alright, but you know—” “I know, I know! In the guest wing, no drugs, no strippers—” “You brought strippers to your parties?” Aemond asks, giving Aegon a disapproving look who in return only smirks and wiggles his eyebrows at him.

“Did you forget your insanely cool bachelor party? Did you think I brought random girls to give you a lap dance—” “Okay enough!” Alicent laughs awkwardly, “There are better times to discuss these matters! I have more important things to tell you.” “Like what?” Daeron asks.

“New Gossip Girls season dropped?” Aegon looks at you shrugging when you snort at his question.

“Be serious for a fucking second please,” Aemond warns his brother before he looks at Alicent softly, “What’s wrong?” “Nothing, nothing! In fact, I kind of have a surprise for all of you. Not a huge surprise but I wanted to take you somewhere,” she explains, stroking her neck in nervousness.

“Where do you wanna take us, Mum? Hopefully nowhere near Father,” Hel says, making everyone sigh in relief when Alicent shakes his head.

“No, of course not!” she scoffs as if even the idea of seeing her ex-husband disgusted her — and it did — she continued, “Do you remember when I told you I had put the winery under a reconstruction? And specifically told you to not go there?”

“No?” Daeron answers, confused as he tries to remember when Alicent told them to not go there, “I doubt you did, Mum.”

“You have a winery?” you ask, a joyful smile comes on your face when Hel nods excitedly.

“Not just a winery but a vineyard!” “Oh, wow! I had no idea!” “Well, it’s your lucky day because now it’s useable again!” Alicent matches your enthusiasm, “Also, this is not just to show you the vineyard, but…” she looks at Aemond, “It’s Aemond’s birthday too!” “It’s not,” he replies, glancing at you quickly, “It’s in a few weeks.”

“Well it doesn’t matter because I am going to throw a party for you, and for that, we need to have a winetasting session and choose a few bottles for that occasion!”

“Mum, there is no need—” “Do shut up, asshole,” Aegon teases him, “what do you mean there is no need? Those are gonna be for your birthday, and also, I don’t have to drink in secret!” “I’m afraid I agree with Aegon,” Hel says, you and Daeron nod in encouragement, and Aemond has no choice but to also agree and surrounder, but it’ll be worth it, he thinks, because the way your eyes light up at the idea of visiting their vineyard makes his heart beat faster.

“Alright then” Alicent claps, shooing you all out of the TV room, “Wear something cool, I don’t want you to get sick under this god-awful heat.”

••••••••••

You and Hel put on your sundresses and you help her apply sunscreen on the back of her neck, covering her pale skin so she won’t burn under the awfully hot sun. The weather is exceptionally warm today and you regret agreeing to go to the vineyard without cars as soon as you step outside.

Aemond and Aegon are already there, smoking together as they wait for you and Hel to reach them. Aemond sends an endearing smile your way when he spots you, taking in the sight of you; you look beautiful, with your smile and the baby blue sundress you are wearing.

“Alright, ladies! Choose your gentleman— hey! At least let me finish,” Aegon whines when you loop your arm with Aemond, making a gagging sound when Aemond rests his palm on top of yours, “Ew, get a fucking room. Come on, Hel, we’re cooler than them.”

You chuckle when Aegon throws his arm around Helaena’s shoulders, taking the lead towards the vineyard not before he gives you a middle finger.

“Asshole,” you mutter, leaning your head on Aemond’s arm as you walk side by side, “since when did you guys have a vineyard? I’ve been Helaena’s friend for years and not once did she mention anything about it.”

“It was Viserys’ vineyard, everything belonged to him, but after Mum filed for divorce and the evidence she had against him, he gave it all away,” he explains, his thumb caressing your knuckles, “I’m glad though, Mum deserves this. I mean we weren’t in need of a huge house in King’s Landing, Old Town was enough for us anyway, but after what he put her through, she really deserved it.”

“Alicent is strong, I’m not sure if I could handle such a mind wrecking thing,” you sigh, squeezing his arm as you smile at the memories you wish to tell him, “I remember when your parents were getting divorced, Helaena would spend days with me at my Grandparents’ country house, she’d bring Dreamfyre too. It felt like an eternity when we were together.”

“Hel has that effect, time doesn’t pass with her,” He agrees, both of you waving when Helaena looks back and blows you a kiss, “I feel like that with you too, maybe because we have shared interests.”

“You’re lucky,” you reply softly, bumping your shoulder to his, “because I feel the same. Every talk we have had since we were kids till now is a core memory of mine. Yeah, Hel will always be my favorite, my best friend, but you are different from everyone I’ve met, you mean so much to me.”

“You’re a dear friend or at least a dear friend to my sister,” he laughs a little, “I remember those days though, it was just me and Daeron in this huge house. Aegon was somewhere probably fucking and drinking and doing drugs while I had to take care of Daeron. He was too young to understand anything.”

“I wish things were different…”

“I don’t,” you look at him, confused and intrigued, “Maybe my eye, yes, but… I’m glad he is no longer a part of our lives, I could care less if he drops dead tomorrow, I’m happy he is no longer here to pester us about Rhaenyra or anyone.”

As soon as you try to answer him, a huge truck goes past you at a fast pace, and in an instant, Aemond wraps his arm around your waist and pulls you to his side, keeping you close to his body as he steps between you and the road.

You pant, hands fisting the front of his shirt in terror as you try to regain your breathing. Aemond looks down at you, his fingers keeping you tightly against him as his other hand reaches to caress your cheek.

“Are you alright?”

“Yeah,” you nod, resting your forehead on his chest as he embraces you, “Yeah, I think I am.”

“We’re here, come on,” he finds Aegon and Hel already waiting for you, and gestures for you to follow them inside, “are you sure you’re okay?”

“Yes, Little nerd, I’m fine,” you reach and squeeze his hand, holding it as you walk through the entrance of the winery, finding Alicent, Daeron, and Cole already there.

“We’ll start with the winery!” Alicent announces, walking ahead of everyone with Criston on her side, “I’ve asked Qoren Martell to send us a very professional wine taster from Dorne to help us choose, and… here he is!”

“A pleasure to finally meet you, Ms. Hightower,” the old man nods at Alicent, shaking her hand gracefully, “I’ve been told you produce different wines here.”

You let go of Aemond and meet Helaena midway as she takes your hand and walks with you behind her Mum and Cole, pointing at different parts of the winery. At first, you see the huge Grape-filled bowls getting crushed, the noises are loud but the fruits look so juicy and sweet.

“This is incredible!” You tell Hel as the group walks toward the next room, watching in awe how huge these oak barrels are. There are probably hundreds of them, with one glass under each so if someone wants to taste the wine straight from the barrels would have easy access.

Helaena pulls you to the next room, not just you but the Targaryen siblings are shocked as well.

“You genius,” Aegon calls his mother, “This is insane!” “I have to agree,” Aemond looks around with his hands in the pocket of his shorts as he walks toward you and Helaena, “Our previous wine cellar was so little it barely fit two people in it. This is…” “Gorgeous,” you finish his sentence and take a good look at the wine cellar; the room is rounded, the walls are curved and the temperature is low to keep the bottles cold. The shelves start from the ground to the ceiling, all of them filled to the brim with different wines in each specific section,

“It’s amazing, right?” Alicent asks, looking at her handiwork excitedly.

“You’re amazing…” It came out as a really really hushed whisper, but you and Aemond heard it correctly, Cole did say that.

You press your lips to contain your laugh when your eyes meet Aemond’s, finding him shaking his head as he reaches to rub over the huge round dining table in the middle of the room, smoothing his palm over the surface of the wood.

“Shall we start?” Alicent asks, and when you all say yes, she tells the older man to bring the bottles one by one.

You take a seat with Hel and Aemond on your sides at the table, waiting for the old Dornish man to bring the bottles. You see two other men bring a few plates filled with different cheeses and bread rolls.

“When will we see the vineyard?” You ask the siblings, pouting when Aemond chuckles at you, “Hey! Not everyone grew up with tons of money.”

“I’m not making fun of you if that’s what you’re thinking,” he replies, reaching to play with the rim of his glass, his white shirt stretching against his biceps, “your eagerness is cute.”

“Oh, fuck off!” You hide your face in your hands, laughing when Hel reaches to stroke your back, “Fine, but you need to take me there as soon as we’re done here.”

“Whatever you want,” he says, and all of you watch as Cole and the old man bring four bottles; Cabernet Sauvignon, Dornish Red, Rosè, and Chardonnay.

“Bring it on, old man,” Aegon whistles, plopping down on the chair next to the head of the table, bowing his head dramatically when Alicent sits.

You start with the Dornish Red and observe all of the siblings closely; Helaena sips gently and takes a piece of cheese immediately, Daeron and Alicent go on the exact same pace while humming at the same time, Aegon chugs the entire liquid and doesn’t let interest even for a second but Aemond… well you have only seen this move in social media but to see his slim and elegant fingers wrapped around the thin glass as he first looks at the color of the wine then swirls the liquid around before taking a whiff of the smell and after that a sip that follows with a deep rumbling from his chest.

You look away as soon as you sense he might turn around and catch you red-handed, taking a long sip of your glass before coughing at the too-sour taste of it.

“Not your favorite, huh?” Hel asks, handing you a piece of bread.

“Absolutely not,” you clear your throat before shooting Aemond a glare when he chuckles at you, “What?”

“Nothing,” he shrugs, “Come on, let's taste the next one.”

The next one is the white wine, it tastes much better than the Dornish Red, less sour but the bitterness of it is intolerable — you are by no means new to drinking alcohol, but wine has always been a tricky drink for you. You go through the third bottle as well, but again, it doesn’t taste excellent, until Aemond opens the Rosè, his arm bulging as he pulls up the corkscrew, making a delicious sound of ‘pop’.

“Here you go!” Alicent says as she brings a huge plate of lime and Tangerines to the table to cleanse your pallets before you have the next drink.

“How did you find Tangerines in the summer?” You ask excitedly, side eyeing Aemond as he pours the wine in your glasses before he sits down and grabs the Tangerine from you.

“Not easy to find, but you can trust Criston with these things,” she looks at Cole who’s standing in the door frame with a glass of Dornish Red. How typical.

“What are you doing?” You ask Aemond before you take a sip from your drink, humming in joy as you finally taste the most delicious Rosè you could have ever had.

“What does it look like? I’m peeling it for you,” he answers as if you have asked the most stupid question ever.

“Oh, okay, thank you,” you smile at him, completely dumbfounded by the amount of consideration he’s shown towards you today. You must look so bashful as you avert your eyes from him and stare into your glass, trying to stop the thoughts from flowing in your mind.

“Here,” he hands you the peeled Tangerine before he rises up from his seat and extends his hand to you, “come on, I promised you a tour and the vineyard looks so beautiful now.”

“Alright,” you put your hand in his, letting him pull you on your feet effortlessly, keeping you straight when you wobble a bit. You thank him shyly, reaching to grab your glass as well and leave the wine cellar.

“Why did the previous cellar not have enough room for all of you?” You ask suddenly, eating a piece of the Tangerine and offering him one as he leads you towards the staircase that reaches the vineyard.

“It was Viserys’, not ours,” he shrugs, “besides, Daeron and I were underage, we couldn’t drink—“

“This is… beautiful,” you exclaim the moment you step on the grass-covered path, the rows of Grenache trees have made a breathtaking sight, “how can you visit here so little? This is out of this world!”

“I’m glad you like it here,” Aemond smiles softly at you, watching as you slowly walk through the path, finishing your fruit before you reach and take one of the leaves between your fingers, slowly caressing it before taking a sip of your wine.

“It’s so dreamy, why didn’t you hold your wedding here?” You facepalm yourself, giving him an apologetic smile, “Sorry…”

“Sometimes people just… forget, and I think that’s what I want too, but… the wound is still fresh, I think about her more than I should,” he steps next to you, one hand in his pocket while the other swirls the rose wine in his glass, “besides, this place is too beautiful to waste it on someone like Alys, yeah, I loved her but…I was blinded by her sweet words.”

“I know, it’ll take a little while to get there, you know. Sometimes you feel unworthy, so ugly and bruised by everything but… it’ll get better.”

“It will, this place helps a bit, and I’m sure Aegon’s massive parties will be very helpful as well,” he grins at you.

“Yeah? Well, it definitely feels like a new beginning, right?” You ask him, taking a step away from him, biting your lip while smiling, keeping your eyes on him as he scoffs, “Which one will you choose for your birthday party, sir?”

“Which one did you like?” He asks and takes a step forward, finishing his glass. He hears his Mum calling you to go for lunch, but before you go, you answer him.

“The Rosè.”

#aemond targaryen #ewan mitchell #house of the dragon #aemond one eye #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen fluff #aemond x you #aemond x reader #aemond targaryen x you #hotd aemond #prince aemond #🍊dreams

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moonchild1 · 9 months ago

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park jimin fic rec list (Ⅲ)

woah it really has been a long time since i posted but i am so glad to be back and to get back into reading i saw so many of my favourite authors have updated and i am beyond excited to start this journey again but in the mean time here's jimin rec list as promised it was so exciting finishing this list cause i got so nostalgic making it and reading all the old fics i had on my reading list ughhh i just loved it so much and it got me back into the swing of things and i cant wait to make more lists, i do have another jjk list ready and i will post it the day after tomorrow so i hope you enjoy this one and don't forget to show all the love and support in the world to these amazing authors they work so hard to create these fics for us and they deserve endless praise and love for the commitment and generosity they have so please do leave them a comment, heart or reblog a small comment can go a long way here and can make someone smile even bigger so dont don't shy away from making someone happy... as usual you guys know this fics i recommend contain smut so minors don't interact you will be blocked... i really do love hearing from you guys so if you do have a little fic you are super into right now and you just want to rant about how amazing it is feel free to send me an ask 😊🖤

a- angst s- smut f- fluff

series

plot twist by @xpeachesncream f s a

↳ jimin isn’t interested in fake dating, but he’s definitely interested in getting to know someone the right way. after all, he feels like he’s ready to put himself out there and give it all he’s got. so, he takes a risk in trying something completely out of his comfort zone and hops on the new, popular dating app - only to come across and get to know someone he didn’t expect to meet.

a remedy for mondays by @dovechim s

↳ all you wanted was just one day off work. but for that to happen, you need to invent a plausible reason. and then somehow, somewhere along the way, things get out of hand, and now people think you’re having a baby with your co-worker Park Jimin after a one-night stand. confused? join the club.

it’s okay, that’s love by @/dovechim f s a deals with deep subjects

↳ People are constantly making some kind of connection with each other- be it friendship or romance. But human bonds always lead to messy complications; commitment, sharing, driving people to the airport, letting them get up close and personal with the darkest parts of ourselves. And sure- it’s scary as hell to watch them cross those boundaries you’ve so meticulously drawn, but it’s okay, because that’s love.

so it goes by @/dovechim f s

↳ Park Jimin knows a lot about humans. of course he does, he studies them for a living. he knows that they say hello by holding hands, and when they say goodbye, they put their arms around each other. but this particular human, he notes, is unlike the rest- stuck in a slump, going about your day praying for the Universe to stage an intervention in the form of an alien abduction. when he decides to finally fulfil your wishes, he finds that you have a little something to teach him about what it means to live life on Earth the way you do: ugly crying, underwear and all. in return, he shows you the possibilities that abound if you simply adopted their mantra: everything is beautiful, and nothing hurts.

love again by @taestefully-in-luv f s a

↳ A friend of yours is eager to introduce you to her new man but what happens when Park Jimin, the man who broke your heart 5 years ago walks in through the door?

the other woman: the seduction and the illusion by @namjooningelsewhere f s a

↳ No one told you being the other woman would never be easy, No one told you that his love would be two sides to a same coin. No one told you he came to you because you were his escape to his demons. No one told you he would always call you his, but he would never be yours. And most importantly no one told you, He never loved you because you dont destroy the people you love.

FUTURE HEARTS by @jungblue f s a ft. jjk

↳ It was everything, from his tattoos, to his touches, to the way sweat rolled down his neck as he strummed into his guitar on stage; everything about him completely enthralled you. So why are you now, two and a half years later, on a train to Seoul, telling a complete stranger the recollection of how you became fated to forever have scars on all of your future hearts due to the happiness, but most of all the pain, that came along with falling in love with Jeon Jungkook.

after the applause by @foxymoxynoona

↳ Jimin doesn't know how he would have made it this far after the shattering of his world without the support of his thoughtful, generous, helpful neighbor. Hanbyul has lived next to hottie Jimin and his adorable daughter for years now, long enough to remember the wife he was so devoted to and lost far too young. With each safely ensconced on their side of the brick wall of the Parks' grief, it will take an enterprising little scientist to set the stage for a second chance at love.

saved by @to-star-lake s a

rockstar au deep subjects read warnings

midnight memories by @hobipaint f s a

↳ there's drunk habits, and then there's drunk mistakes. What do you call meeting your friend - no, ‘former friend’ - at a bar, getting drunk with him and sleeping- 'accidentally' - with him? especially when everyone already knows that you stay away from him as much as the day does from night?

Easy. You forget about it.

heartbreak chronicles by @sugaxjpg s

↳ Park Jimin had it all — good grades, a place as the soccer team’s captain and, more than that, the broken hearts of at least half the campus’ population. Though, one thing he did not have was someone willing to break his heart and, after you were dragged inside a miraculous plan to play that part, the last thing counted on was the preposterous idea that, perhaps, you could fall for him as well.

drifting by@hongcherry f a

↳ After being assigned different partners for your midterm routine, your and Jimin’s relationship starts to deteriorate when you both begin spending more time away from each other and with your assigned partners instead.

growing pains by @taleasnewastime f s a

↳ Growing up the daughter of the boss of a gang is never easy, but normally the problems are around being given too many responsibilities, or the risk of being connected to a gang leader, or wanting to escape but not being able to. But you’ve got a different problem, you want more responsibility, want to be like your brother who’s been named heir, want a role in the family gang. Your whole life you’ve been denied what you want, being born a female seemingly your main issue; perceived as weak, naïve, trying to step above your station. But as unsupportive and dismissive as your family is, there is always the bright light that is Jimin; the boy you love but can never have.

tuqburni by @solastia f s a ft.myg

↳ You’ve spent two years building a life with Yoongi who you loved more than anything in the world. Now, his ex-boyfriend Jimin is back in the picture, and Yoongi begs you not to make him choose between the two of you, offering the choice of a polyamorous relationship. Though your heart is shattered, you agree.

stardust by @venusjeon f a

↳ struck by your beauty, Jimin begs to paint you naked behind the world's back so as not to stain your influential family—his patrons—with scandal.

drift by @snackhobi f s

↳ You used to think that there was nothing better than the sensation of coming first place. However, your rival- the talented, gorgeous, dangerous Park Jimin- is more than happy to prove you wrong.

the deli diaries by @jimlingss f

↳ Working at a grocery store deli is absolutely unbearable (and you’re also perfectly aware of how dramatic you are). But it seems like something, or rather, someone might make the job a bit more manageable.

best of me by @xotoosweet f a

↳ when he tells the story of how he met you in a few years, he'll claim that it was meant to be. you'll laugh and call it a coincidence. it was a coincidence that on the first day of summer semester, he decided to go on a run (though he claimed he always ran in the mornings). it was a coincidence that he chose a less traveled path in the university arboretum that morning. and it was definitely a coincidence that you were there, sitting on the rail of the river bridge.

the ten days of ex-mas by @kpopfanfictrash f s a

↳ Three months following the worst break-up of your life, you finally feel ready to start moving on. The world, it seems, has other ideas when you pick up the phone and find your ex-boyfriend calling.

strip by @yoonia f s a

↳ Summary | Everything you have done has always been about surviving life and raising your child on your own. Having someone else caring about you was the last thing you had expected. Especially when that someone is the same man you have watched performing every night on stage and secretly admired. But will he run the moment he finds out about your little secret waiting at home?

falling by @/yoonia s a

↳ For Park Jimin, you are everything he will ever need—his assistant, his housekeeper, his task runner, his fairy godmother. For you, he is more than everything. You have dedicated your life for him and, before you even realised it, your heart belongs to him alone. The only problem is that he is never yours, and you are living in a world that your love for him is nothing more than a fairytale ending. As you are suddenly given a chance to wake up and face the real world, will you be ready to embrace it? Will he be ready to deal with the world without you in it?

wrapped around by @jjkfire ft. kth f s a

↳ Freshman year was a mess and sophomore year doesn’t seem to be looking too good either. You know boys like them are no good for you but maybe they’re just your kind of type

baby, baby by @hobiwonder f s a

↳ When you’ve run out of savings to continue on to the last semester of your Bachelors - you take an unorthodox route. Helping a desperate couple have a child and getting paid for it? Heck yeah. But what do you know - it wasn’t as easy as it sounds.

love at first touch by bagelswrites (ao3)

↳ The first time you meet your soulmate, it leaves a bruise on both of you at the point of contact. From then on, your body begins rejecting any sustenance other than the touch of your soulmate. The trick is, the bruises take a few hours to appear, so you have to figure out who you've touched and find them before you starve to death. But once you do, all you ever need is them. So what happens if you're an idol and you meet your soulmate at a fan event?

our little family by @nightbts f a

↳ you were living a simple life filled with simple dreams; combining your two most loved things in life, children and teaching, you were starting out your career as a teacher at the local pre-school. but little did you know, how one child and her very special father, would change your simple life into something extraordinary

one-shot 35

brand new eyes by @missgeniality s

↳ Jimin’s eyes had potential to ruin you, and tonight you test the damage.

waves by @shina913 s

↳ It's Valentine's Day and your boyfriend decides to spice things up with a little surprise for you.

failure to communicate by @gukslut s

↳ Enemies to Lovers/ College AU

physical by @ppersonna f s

↳ you cant seem to escape the sexy fitness instructor that seemingly is everywhere you turn. it’s enough to make you irrational.

good for you by @candlewaxandp0lar0ids s

↳ Jimin can’t help the way he drowns himself in you. Why should he anyway?

ho-ho-home by @jjungkookislife s a

↳ Golden neighbor extraordinaire, Park Jimin, is (unintentionally) stealing your spotlight this holiday season. Despite your one sided rivalry with him, all Jimin wants is for you to remember him, to remember your past and hopefully create a future with you.

100km/hour by @chateautae s

↳ what exactly happens when you and your friends have to pile into one car for the ride home after an insane halloween party, and you find yourself sitting in park jimin’s lap? especially when he’s dressed as an angel, and you’re in the sluttiest devil costume ever?

what it's like by @jimilter s

↳ You’ve always heard great tales about how good the infamous fuckboy on campus, Park Jimin, is in bed, and wondered if there could be any truth behind these claims when the guy looks like an angel with his cheruby cheeks and precious smiles. So when a new gossip starts to circulate about how ‘hard he hits’, you have had enough of the suspense and decide to finally sample him yourself.

feel your touch by @/jimilter f s a

↳ You have always known yourself to be a sexual switch in bed, flipping between exercising and submitting control according to different situations and partners. And this camboy you are addicted to, one that seems to kinda reciprocate your interest, submits so beautifully that you just want to command him. But when things progress to levels you never anticipated, you end up discovering pleasant surprises that might just change your life.

the prince’s cinderella syndrome by @/jimilter f s a ft jjk

↳ He shows up at Halloween, every year, dressed the same, and leaves at midnight like some Cinderella. You would think he was a prankster if his eyes didn't look like they contained all the sadness in the world. You don't know him - no one on campus does. You don't know why he appears only once a year. You don't know why he never smiles. But you can't help falling in love with him. Even if he breaks your heart when he abandons you at midnight, again.

scream your panties by @opaljm s a

↳ As your midterms have ended and Halloween has arrived, you are looking forward to a pleasant time relaxing and enjoying the festivities at your sorority and Jimin’s frat houses. Luck is not in your favor, though, because things keep going wrong like a trail of dominoes falling – the only upside to your slowly deteriorating day being that you get to end it with your boyfriend’s delicious self between your legs.

first snow, last kiss by @taeshobipop f s a

↳ He broke your heart four years ago; the old loving memories of your time together now tainted by pure betrayal. Yet in the haze of new snow, after returning home for the first time, the moments you had once convinced yourself were nothing but a lie, reveal themselves to be otherwise.

antifreeze by @winetae s

↳ Jimin participates in the school’s adaption of The Nutcracker for extra credit but doesn’t expect his new dance partner to a) be this bad at dancing and b) be this fucking cute

what she likes by @untaemedqueen f s

idol au husband au marriage au

only you by @personasintro f s a

↳ you’ve been always there for your best friend, even when he became a single dad

sucker by @/personasintro s a

↳ You wish you'd pay more attention to Jimin. Like, how his eyes kept changing color. How cold his skin was, too unrealistically to be natural. Or one second, he flashed you with his sharp canines and the next one he didn't have any. How much he craved for you, but not the way you thought he was.

please, lie to me by @ressjeon s a

↳ "centuries of loyalty vs. only months of fucking, how could you miscalculate?"

summer synchrony by @seokkgenie f s a

↳ childhood friends to lovers

neon seoul @readyplayerhobi f s a

↳ It the city of New Seoul, another homicide isn’t newsworthy but instead just a statistic. But when the son of the mayor is murdered in an alley in a shady part of the city? Then it’s important. You and your partner, Detective Park Jimin, are given the honour of investigating the crime. Will you find out who killed him? Or will you fail?

serendipity by @btsracket s a ao3

↳ It's serendipitous. Jimin braces for darkness but finds his light instead.

the boyfriend concept by @/kpopfanfictrash s

↳ Win a Date with a Porn Star! You saw the sign when you walked in, of course, but you had no idea your friend dropped your name into the raffle. Fast-forward to later that day, when you actually win. You are horrified, of course, with no intention of accepting and setting yourself up for embarrassment. But then you meet Jimin, and decide this might be worth a shot.

Lovely Demons by @/kpopfanfictrash s a

↳ As penance for a crime committed long, long ago, the Witch Council banished you to the feared Tholoss forest. Your sentence was one hundred thousand days of solitude – or death, whichever came first. Your only hope of salvation comes from the demon names routinely sent your way; creatures who escape the inner circles of Hell and pose a threat to the mortal realms. For each demon you kill, days are removed from your sentence. For years you’ve existed, biding your time, until one morning you receive a name which throws your entire world into chaos: the name of Park Jimin, High Prince of Hell himself.

blue blood by @joonbird s a

↳ “Prince Jimin was born with blue blood. His coronation is rapidly approaching, but there are two requirements he must fulfil before becoming a king. He must have the skills to fight in battle, and he must have a Queen with blood as blue as his. You, a member of the royal guard, are assigned to teach Jimin the ins and outs of combat. You are not scared of death, of blood, or of battle. What you are scared of however, is falling in love with Jimin, the one man your blood decrees you can never have.”

i want to be with you by @oddinary4bts f s a

↳ moving to Seoul has always seemed like a good idea, until the bubble bursts when you realize your new neighbor is Park Jimin, and he's not the sweet angel you've always imagined him to be. Will the reality of Park Jimin forever be a nightmare, or will he turn into a sweet dream?

locked in love by @parkmuse f s a

↳ Getting locked in the mall on Christmas eve isn’t ideal, but getting locked in the mall with your brothers best friend that you haven’t seen in a while? Well, it might have been alright if you didn’t have feelings for him.

peaches and cream by @snackhobi s

↳ you wouldn’t mind your cute neighbour being such a shameless fuckboy if a) the walls weren’t so thin and b) he didn’t seem intent on adding you as another notch in his bedpost.

reset by @/dovechim s

↳ We are made of the pieces of what we remember, and we hold in ourselves the hopes and fears of those who love us. As long as there are memories to call our own, there can be no true loss. But Park Jimin has no such privilege.

the dark side of the moon by @/dovechim s

↳ falling in love at first sight is cliche, not until it happens to you on a dark night in a lonely alley. but you’re only human, while Park Jimin is Alpha of his pack; it could never work out. so you resort to pining for him like a wolf howling at the moon, but when Jimin goes feral, that’s when everything changes.

Unconditionally by @kstopping s a

↳ Jimin constantly torments you. But you love it.

Instinct by @evangelene f a

↳ A lost child appears into your life only to bring you closer Jimin–a man that you’d thought you’d hated once upon a time. Now all you want is to be there for the child, and maybe his father–but only if his mother gets the hell out of the way.

eternal sunlight by @kidguk f s a

↳ “college and soulmate au where the first words your soulmate will say to you are tattooed on your wrist. jimin thinks he met his soulmate exactly four months after he met and fell in love with you. you can’t explain your attraction or your feelings toward him, even though technically you’re meant to be with other people. taehyung and jungkook helpfully suggest that the universe might be glitching.”

foul play by @kimvtae f s a

↳ Everyone loves a good rivalry, and the students at your university are no exception. Unluckily for you, the rivalry of the decade is between yourself and a furiously irritating Park Jimin. A top gymnast and a basketball star shouldn’t cross paths, but Jimin makes his way into your heart before you can put a stop to it.

lost and found by @/kimvtae s a

↳ The only thing bigger than Park Jimin’s ass is his ego. After one too many scandals, after one too many mornings stumbling back to the dorms drunk or ruining the reputations of other idols, Jimin is given an ultimatum: complete a rehabilitation program in America or leave Bangtan.

if we were a movie by @/kimvtae f s a

↳ Friends with benefits never worked in the movies, but you and Jimin had been friends for so long, it was bound to work for you. Until, of course, Jimin gets a girlfriend, and you fear you may lose your friendship with him for good.

the pull of the tides by @goldenscript f s

↳ The expanse of the deep blue sea has always drawn you in. Each ebb and flow of the tides never ceasing to take your breath away. And now, a boy with hair as light as the morning sun and a smile just as bright does too.

hard to say by @floralseokjin f s a

↳you've had feelings for your best friend Jimin for as long as you can remember, but you always thought they were unreciprocated. What if it turned out they weren’t...?

↬looking for pjm library or the other members check out my library

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00-jammy-00 · 8 months ago

Note

Helloo!!^_^

Could I request a yan who everyone likes? Like nobody would suspect yan!

I guess golden retriever!yan? Maybe darling tries to say something but nobody believes them because they think darling is trying to ruin yan’s reputation ? :33

Btw could I be 🍯 anon?

Yan!GoldenBoy HC’s

Yan!GoldenBoy x GN! Reader

Content warning - Yandere themes, obsession, murder, nsfw mentions, possessiveness, stalking, yan has mood swings, he’s a little bitch.

—————————————————————————————————

Yan!GoldenBoy who was good looking. He could get anything he wanted with a hand through his hair and a flash of his charming pearly whites. He knew he was handsome, he knew people trusted him, he knew all this and he knew it would only make it easier to get you.

Yan!GoldenBoy Who has been obsessed with you for months! He was playing basketball for his school when he saw you for the first time. You were just sitting on the benches, none of that cringe ‘they were reading a book instead of paying attention.’ you were simply watching the game but you looked so radiant while doing it, he couldn’t help but rush over when the game finished.

Yan!GoldenBoy Who tripped over his own feet to chase you down near the exit, he put an arm around your shoulders and flashed that charming smile. He talked to you for a few minutes, making sure to totally not brag about the fact he was the captain of the basketball team, he was really humble you know?

Yan!GoldenBoy Who offered you a car ride home with those gorgeous honey coloured eyes yet was completely shocked when you said no. You said…no? What the fuck does no mean? Who the fuck do you think you are?! You’re lucky he doesn’t fucking kill you!

Yan!GoldenBoy Who just gives you a sweet smile and insists only to clench his jaw when you refuse again. God you’re making this so fucking hard, you’re gorgeous, you’re everything, which means you’re meant to be his for fucks sake.

Yan!GoldenBoy Who vows he’ll never leave you alone. You’re destined to be his, you’re perfect, he’s perfect, so you have to be together, you’re soulmates! He uses a few favours to find out everything about you. Your address, who your family is, where you work, your favourite brand, what your favourite scent is, your zodiac sign, blood type, what hospital you were born at, what cemetery you might want to get buried at. You know, the usual stuff.

Yan!GoldenBoy Who is practically drooling as he jerks himself off to your underwear which he had…borrowed…from your house on his last so called visit. He had cum so much he was having dry orgasms babe! Why do you still not want him?! He could be so good for you!

Yan!GoldenBoy Who sits in his nice car with a pair of binoculars to make sure nothing strange is happening in your room. He’s just keeping you safe, what if someone comes around and tries to steal you?! Don’t worry, your boyfriend is here for you, he’ll protect you. Your boyfriend…god just the idea of being your boyfriend makes him hard all over again.

Yan!GoldenBoy Who doesn’t care if he has to beat the shit out of some people. Your classmate was found with a ripped open chest and a missing heart? That’s terrible babe, but he can be your lab partner now! That one annoying bitch in your class had a bullet between her eyes and her heart missing just like your classmate? How tragic! Don’t worry, you’re safe with him.

Yan!GoldenBoy Who delivers special presents to your door every time a little rat decides to try and ruin his plans. Maybe if he gifts you the hearts from his victims, you’ll let him into yours <3

——————————————————————————————————

Likes, reblogs and comments are greatly appreciated, requests are open <3

please do not copy, repost or translate any of my works on other platforms without my permission.

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being-worthy · 1 month ago

Text

Venom & Eddie Brock headcanons

I started this a while back and wanted to have it finished before the third movie, Venom: The Last Dance, would come out. Yet, it got sooo long that I decided to split the first headcanon into several parts (not quite sure how many there'll be).

I might consider doing another one after watching the third movie which would be about their life together during and after Venom 3.

I’m doing a little goal over on my Ko-fi to get some help with unexpected health bills! ✨Any help is super appreciated! 💖

Moodboard credits: Picture found on Pinterest. If someone knows who the creator is, please let me know as there was no name.

Here's the 1st headcanon part set during and after Venom 1 & 2:

To say that Eddie was surprised by your reaction when you saw them in their Venom form for the first time, would be the understatement of the century.

That said, they saved you from a mugger, although V had other reasons, too. He was intrigued by your sweet smell (it had something chocolaty to him, his words).

You were a bit afraid to be honest, after all, Venom is huge and broad, very broad and muscly, and don’t forget the shark-similar teeth. 😬

However, your fascination with V was bigger; wondering what his skin would feel like if you touched it, would it feel more like touching a snake or slimy like a frog? Also, how would it feel to be hugged by him? Does he radiate warmth when hugging?

You mustered all your courage together and asked them if you could touch their face. V squinted his eyes upon hearing your question and wouldn’t quite know what to think of you at first, it was a mix of ‘brave little morsel’ and ‘naïve little morsel’. Eddie was at a loss at hearing your request.

V indulged you and let you touch their face. Eddie just got along with it, not that he’s got much of a choice when V’s in charge, especially when someone else shows interest in him instead of running away screaming. You took the chance to explore his face with your hands thoroughly.

You were fascinated by him. His skin wasn’t slimy or like a snake’s; it was smooth and had a cool feeling on your hands at first, but it radiated warmth to your hands. afterwards.

You thanked them for saving you pulling on V’s arm quietly asking them to bend down a bit further. They did as you asked bending as much as possible to your height, once they were within reach, you lightly placed a small peck on V’s cheek and gave them a faint “thank you”, like this 👇

V’s milky eyes turned into two big saucers at the surprising gesture. They were so happy that you didn’t scream and run off like many before have done and even gave them a soft and warm kiss.

Eddie was also amazed by your reaction. He wasn’t sure if you were a bit crazy or the real deal.

V tried to convince Eddie to take you home with them, but Eddie reminded him that they can’t just “take” you or people in general with them. V annoys Eddie for the whole night for that.

They ensured you made it home safely as they insisted on being your bodyguard for the night and escorting you home.

After that night, they’d regularly bump into you claiming they were just in the neighbourhood, and so not making sure nothing bad happened to you, nor were they keeping an eye on you. This was the start of a beautiful and peculiar friendship.

To be continued...

Comments and reblogs are always appreciated! Do not copy or translate my work plz!

💫 My Ko-fi page

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inkedinshadows · 26 days ago

Text

Never Hold Back

Day 31: Squirting — Lucien x f!reader

Warnings: oral (f receiving), fingering, insecure reader

Word count: 1.099

A/N: we've finally got to the end of Kinktober! This was so much fun, but it was also exhausting ngl. I'm working on new fics and I'm so glad it's not smut bc I seriously need a break from it. I didn't think I'd be able to write a fic for each day when I decided to do this and I have to say I'm quite of myself for making it. Thank you so much to everyone who read/commented/reblogged my silly smutty blurbs and if you've stuck around to read them all, I love you pls let's get married.

based on this suggestion

You didn’t have much experience with sex. Or rather, you did, but the people you had been with could be counted on one hand. And if there was one thing you learned after your first time, it was how to fake an orgasm just before the real one hit you. That way, your partner would relent, sparing you the embarrassment.

But Lucien wasn’t like your previous lovers. He was your mate.

When you arched off the bed and moaned louder than before, he pulled his mouth away from you and watched you with a furrowed brow.

“Why do you do that?”

At first, you didn’t understand what he was talking about, and your insecurities took over. What had you done? Did you have an actual orgasm? No, you would have felt that, and Lucien would have looked more grossed out than concerned.

“Do what?” you asked, trying to keep the tremor from your voice.

Lucien sat up straight and you immediately felt the absence of his head between your thighs. His eyes found yours and the uneasiness etched on his face made you brace yourself for what might be coming.

He was silent for a moment before he said quietly, “If you don’t enjoy what I’m doing, please just tell me.”

Eyes wide, you sat up too. “Why would you think that? Of course I enjoy it, Lu!”

“Then why did you just fake an orgasm?”

“I didn’t—”

“You did it last time too.”

Your breath caught, heat rising to your cheeks until you were sure you looked like a tomato. Unsure how to respond, you looked down at your fidgeting hands.

You always thought you were good at faking, that it looked real enough to not raise suspicions. None of the males you’d been with before had ever noticed. And now that your mate had realized it, you wished the ground would open and swallow you whole.

“Sunshine,” he called softly.

A slender finger hooked under your chin, and then you were looking into his eyes. He didn’t seem upset, which spurred you to finally say something.

“I’m sorry,” you stuttered, and words began pouring out in an incoherent stream. “It’s just… my body. When I come, it does— it’s really gross, so I just… I thought you—”

You stopped abruptly when his thumb moved to cover your lips. He searched your face, his brows still furrowed, before he asked, “What do you mean ‘gross’?”

You shook your head, resisting the urge to look away again, but his gaze was piercing, and his golden eye seemed to see right through you, so eventually you answered, voice just above a whisper.

“I… I tend to squirt.”

You expected disgust, judgment, maybe even rejection—the same reactions you had gotten the few times it happened, the reasons you had started faking.

Instead, Lucien smiled broadly. “You do?”

He sounded so excited that you frowned as you gave him a single nod. His hands traveled down your body, caressing your sides until they rested on your waist. You were still waiting for a rejection, and he probably read it on your face because he gently squeezed you.

“Y/N… did someone tell you it’s gross?” he questioned. “Is that why you say that?”

You blinked. “You don’t think it is?”

As soon as the words left your mouth, Lucien’s posture changed. His back went a bit rigid, and his jaw clenched as he let you go. “Lay back down,” he said, or rather ordered. No soft tone was left in his voice, in his expression.

“Lucien…” you tried, but he cut you off.

“Lay down. I’m going to make you come.”

You did as he asked, though with a touch of hesitation. Lucien was quick to settle between your legs again. When you opened your mouth to try and talk him out of it one last time, he beat you to it.

“I am going to make you come,” he repeated, even more firmly than the first time. And then he was licking a stripe up your folds, his hands holding you open for him to feast on.

You decided to just enjoy it, then. What else were you supposed to do when he flicked his tongue over your clit and gently rolled it between his lips? Your hand shot out to tangle in his fiery hair, and you sucked in a breath, feeling his low chuckle reverberate against your cunt.

He probed your entrance with a finger, and when you squirmed, he pushed it in and curled it, hitting that sweet spot that drew a groan from deep in your throat. And then you lost all sense of time and space as the fingers became two and his mouth latched onto your clit.

The pleasure was rising fast—faster than ever, now that you weren’t worrying about waiting for the perfect moment to fake your orgasm. Yet as you felt it approaching, the thought that maybe you should stop before it was too late lingered at the back of your mind.

“Lucien, I’m… I’m close,” you warned, your voice a breathless murmur.

“Then come for me, sunshine.” He looked up at you through his lashes, and his next words were a low, commanding growl. “Don’t you dare hold it back.”

When he thrust his fingers in deeper and curled them once more, you didn’t hold it back, and after so long without such an intense feeling, you were utterly overwhelmed by it. A loud cry broke free from you as your whole body shook while you squirted all over Lucien’s fingers and chin. He held you firm, still working you until you went limp, spent and panting. Only then did he pull back, and you blushed at the sight of his face covered in your release.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered.

Lucien only smiled. “Don’t be. Don’t ever apologize for it.”

He climbed up your body, and you wrapped your arms around his neck out of instinct. As he kissed you, you could taste yourself on his lips and tongue. You weren’t sure how you felt about it.

“It was amazing, sunshine,” he murmured against your lips. “Hot, even.”

His words warmed your heart and a bit of the shame you had grown accustomed to began to melt away. If Lucien, your mate, found it hot… then maybe it wasn’t actually that bad after all.

“And to think that you've denied yourself so many orgasms because of it…” he went on. A smirk blossomed on his lips and a mischievous glint sparked in his russet eye. “Let me remedy that.”

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fangirl-dot-com · 10 months ago

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Chapter 18 - All For You

Guys, I fear this one may be worse than the last angsty one I wrote. Am I getting better or worse? – I have no clue…I’m just in a super angsty mood rn

Also, I know that it “Born to Break Records” I said that Max didn’t know about reader’s godfather passing. What I meant to say was that he didn’t know at the time when he gave reader the trophy after she won her debut f2 race. But, because reader has a special helmet for Imola since Lorenzo was Italian, she’d have to tell him about the helmet.

TW: EMOTIONAL ABUSE, HARSH LANGUAGE, SHITTY PARENTS, AND PHYSICAL ABUSE

I am prepared for the therapy bills…

How does someone write “and they swapped spit” in a romantic way?? Asking for a friend

Like always comments, questions, concerns, reblogs, and likes are always appreciated!

TAG LIST IS CLOSED

It couldn’t be them.

You blinked and stared in the direction that you had been previously looking. Your eyes narrowed as you gazed at the small crack of the garage and where the gate was. You quickly placed your special helmet down on a table and dodged mechanics as you stepped out. Mitch barely glanced at your leaving as you often went to visit other drivers before the race if you had time. And today, the parade was a bit earlier, so most of the drivers used this time to destress a bit more than usual.

As you got closer, two familiar people stood out to you. Right now, they were arguing with one of the Red Bull security guards. Your face grimaced as you could hear the shouting multiple feet away.

As you got closer, your blood ran colder. You knew it was a bad idea to come out here, but it was like a moth to a flame or even a lamb to a slaughter. You couldn’t stop your feet until you were just a few steps away.

“Mom? Dad?”

The group of three’s heads swerved toward yours. The security guard, who you recognized to be Frederik, looked at you with a questioning face. The other two looked relieved but also angry at you.

Your father rolled his eyes and pointed toward you before yelling at Fred. “See, I told you that we were her parents, now let us in,” he demanded.

Your heart dropped a bit at the statement. You were never one to stand up to your father, especially when he was already angry.

Your hear barely nodded, almost as if you were trying to even convince yourself that you were fine with them invading your life.

Fred looked over with concern.

“It’s ok Fred.”

“Are you sure kid?”

Your mother huffed. “She said it was fine. Now let us through.”

Fred sure took his sweet time to unlock the gate, something that you could find some thankfulness for.

Your mother came close to you first and wrapped you in an awkward hug: one that you did not return as it was too quick to reciprocate. Your father just stood there, with the same disappointing stare he always had.

You put your hands to the side. “What are you two doing here? Last I knew is that you wanted nothing to do with me.”

Your father rolled his eyes and your mother let out a squawk. “Is that what you’ve been telling your friends? Goodness gracious child, going around speaking lies.”

You winced at her demeaning tone.

Your father spoke next. “You make it into Formula 1 and forget everything that we did for you? How fucking pathetic.” He all but spit out the last word.

“Kid!”

Your head whipped around at lightning speed. Mitch was waving at you from the garage, a curious look on your face.

You tried to give her a smile, but it didn’t quite reach your face. “Coming!” You turned toward your parents. “You can follow me, but please do not touch anything and just stand in the corner.”

That earned another round of scoffs and groans.

“Someone has gotten bratty I see,” you mother seethed.

You paid no attention and walked back to the garage. You only knew that they followed you because you had memorized their footprints long ago when you were too scared to even get out of your room on multiple occasions. There was a difference between their normal strides, angry strides, and sneaky strides that they used when they tried to “catch” you doing something you shouldn’t have been doing – like getting an extra snack because they “forgot” to make you dinner.

You had hoped that Max, Christian, Vito, or even Mitch would be right there when you walked in, but the universe definitely hated you today. The said four were standing in a little circle, probably going over some last minute data. You had stopped in the entrance and watched them, scared that they would ask questions.

While you were watching, a rough shove was directed toward your back, sending you to the floor and making a noise. Your knees were definitely bruised now and your hands were scraped on the concrete. Max, Christian, Mitch, and Vito all turned toward the noise. You had just gotten back up and continued walking, parents behind you.

Some of the engineers had watched your father push you and were starting to question as to who he thought he was, pushing you around like that.

“Oops, didn’t see you there,” your father said.

Vito’s back straightened in defense when his eyes looked at your parents. You shot him a sorry look as he made eye contact with you.

“Ah there you are kid. We were just going over some last minute notes. Who might this be?” Christian asked, walking toward you. Right now, he was thinking that they might be some older couple that you might have known from your childhood.

Boy, was he wrong.

Your eyes glanced back at your parents and sent Christian a look, trying to communicate to him that you really didn’t want these two in the garage.

“Uh, Christian, these are my parents.” Your hands lightly raised in the air, as if to show them off.

Christian’s eyes darkened as he looked at the couple. Max behind him was mentally killing them both. Mitch was just wondering about how she could get you out of this uncomfortable situation.

“Y/n didn’t tell me that we’d be having personal guests today,” Christian said, folding his arms in a defensive pose.

You prayed that your father wouldn’t roll his eyes at your boss.

Your father only stared at the slightly taller Brit before looking at you, annoyance evident on his face. Your mother, once again, scoffed.

“Wow,” your mother let off a very fake giggle, “our own daughter didn’t tell you that we were coming? Shows you how much appreciation kids have these days.” Another fake laugh followed.

Max winced at the sight of your crest-fallen face. You looked absolutely miserable.

“Hmmm, doesn’t sound like our kid.” Christian tried to back you up.

Your mother had walked over to where you special Imola helmet was laying. She picked it up and twirled it around.

It was a beautiful piece of work. The colors of the Italian flag blended beautifully. On the side you had Lorenzo’s crest with his birthdate and death-date underneath as a tribute to him. You watched as her lip curled in disgust. But, you also saw as one of the mechanics came up and took it directly from her, telling her that no one but you or authorized personelle should be touching it.

Christian spoke up again, “Well, we are very busy right now and I need to speak to my drivers.”

But before Christian could get you away, Max stepped forward, a false smile on his lips and a hand stretched out.

“Max Verstappen, three time World Champion.’

You knew this shpeel very well. Max only said the whole title when he was over someone’s bullshit, or he knew that they were just using him for his fame.

Your father had some type of dumbstruck look as he took Max’s hand. The fuming Dutchman used this opportunity to tightly squeeze his hand, tighter than a normal handshake should have been. It made him happy to see your father wince at the grip.

Your father’s hand then came and rested on your shoulder. You tensed as his grip got much harder and harder, probably leaving yet another bruise. “My daughter has a lot to accomplish if you’re her teammate. Good thing she doesn’t have the talent to outshine you.”

You hated it when your father belittled you. He had done this multiple times in front of old friends. He was a manipulator and a narcissist. Your breath, that had been a bunch of harsh inhales and exhales, started to hitch. Clear signs of a panic attack were just around the corner. And your team could tell that you were about to possibly have a meltdown if you didn’t get out now.

Mitch finally spoke up. “We have a race in just under 30 minutes and I need to privately go over something with my drivers. Max and Y/n, please follow me. Christian, I need you as well and Vito you know what to do, we’ll be in the main driver’s room (Max’s driver room).”

Your manager gave your parents one last glare before rushing out of the Red Bull garage.

Mitch was totally bullshitting them because it was actually closer to 45 full minutes rather than less than 30.

Max held your shoulders, much lighter than your father had. He noticed your breathing had started to pick up. He sent a worried glance at the Team Principal who was currently clearing the way.

To you, it felt like your head was underwater. Everything was blurry as you looked at the world through tears, and your head felt as though it was stuffed with cotton. Your skin felt tingly and it pricked where Max’s hands were now gently holding your elbows as he guided you to the room. You could barely hear them trying to get you to calm down.

Once in the room, you had sunk to the floor and wrapped your arms around yourself, as a means of protection. Hands waved in front of your face, trying to get your attention as you stared numbly forward. Each wave shook a flinch out of your body.

A sudden inhale brought on ugly sobs as you tried to breath out apologies for things you didn’t know.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I won’t do it again. Please, please don’t hurt…me.”

Your speech was broken, along with the hearts of Max, Mitch, and Christian who watched their strong girl break down because of someone who should have loved you. Quick knocks on the door alerted the room of someone else.

You suddenly froze, not breathing, as you were thinking that your parents were about to invade yet another safe space. Yet, your vision was filled with red and familiar cologne.

Your body acted on autopilot as your arms wrapped around the familiar figure of your boyfriend.

His voice was still fuzzy as he started to rock you back and forth.

Arthur looked around at the pained faces of your teammate, race engineer, manager, and team principal as they all looked down at you.

Christian kneeled down next to the younger Monegasque. “Is there anything we can do?”

He thought for a moment. You were curled sideways in his lap. Your legs were scrunched in fetal position, arms wrapped around his bicep as you clung to him. Your head rested against his chest with your eyes still closed.

“Her blood sugar gets low after an attack, can someone find some juice?” Vito and Christian all but bolted out the door.

“Mitch can you turn off the light? And Max, please rub her back. I’d do it, but her arms are wrapped around mine.”

The lights suddenly dimmed behind your eyelids and a hand gently touched your bad, trying to see if you’d flinch. When your back didn’t tense, Max continued to apply gentle pressure and his hand moved in small circles.

A big sigh escaped your lips as you came down from your sobs. Your lungs burned with each ragged breath, but they were thankful for new oxygen.

Your eyes remained closed as you took a minute to get your bearings in order. You tried to count down in your head starting from 100, which normally helped you calm down faster. You finally cracked your eyes open and sat up a bit straighter. The hand that was soothing on your back lifted away. A whine almost escaped your lips, but you reeled it in.

Arthur took notice of your open eyes and pressed a kiss to your forehead. “How are you doing? You were out of it for a while. Much longer than usual.”

You hummed. “I’m ok. A bit…”

“Thirsty?” The voice of your manager sounded as he walked in with multiple juice boxes in his arms, Christian behind him with even more juice boxes, and a certain Monegasque driver carried a variety of snacks in his arms.

Your eyes widened with excitement as your hand reached up to grab an apple juice from Vito. Arthur quickly took it from you and pressed the straw in and held it to your lips.

“Small sips,” he reminded you. You wanted to roll your eyes, but you knew he was right.

After a couple of sips, you asked, “How long was it this time.”

Your legs finally stretched out from their crunched position.

“Almost twenty minutes,” Mitch told you, handing you an icepack to put on your head. She guessed that you may be prone to migraines after panic attacks and got you one just in case. Mitch was glad to see you take it and put it on your head immediately.

The room was silent for a moment, before Max spoke.

“Kid, what were they doing here?”

You sighed. “I thought I saw them and I went to go check it out. Turns out it was them, and I really can’t speak up against my dad when he’s angry.”

Arthur concluded, “So he bullied you into getting what he wanted?”

You winced at the word, but nodded just the same.

Christian spoke up. “I couldn’t get them kicked out of the grand prix since they had tickets, but they aren’t going to be in the garage. Do you feel all right to race today?”

“You don’t have to kid if you aren’t feeling well,” Mitch also added on.

You shook your head. “No, I want to race.”

The room knew what this weekend meant for you. When you had happily shown them your new helmet, their eyes had welled with tears as you talked about the man who loved you more than life itself.

Max, who hadn’t known until Wednesday, had given you the biggest hug when it was a good moment. You didn’t know who was comforting who at that moment, but the hug would go down in your list of top 5 hugs ever.

Arthur sensed that you wanted to stand by the way you were wiggling. He slowly helped you to his feet as he pressed another juice box into your hands. Charles quickly opened a bag of Cheetos as you stared at the orange bag.

“I ran to Logan,” he simply stated. He knew that the American was the one who always had your favorite snacks on hand. One, because it was a big American brand, and two, the blond had a soft spot for you and always kept them stocked.

You took the orange twist and happily munched on the snack. The digital clock on Max’s desk showed that there was about 10 minutes left until you needed to get into the car. You quickly finished the small bag and chugged the rest of the juice.

Christian had to step out and start heading to the pit wall. Mitch followed the older Brit so that she could get to her spot inside the garage. Max and Charles left because Max needed to go over some things with GP, while Charles had to run back to Ferrari to get into his own car.

Vito stayed behind to check on you for just a few more moments. He knew first-hand how scared your dad and mom made you feel.

Then it was just you and Arthur for a couple of minutes. Your forehead pressed against his.

“Thank you, for coming to help.”

Arthur chuckled. “You really need to stop scaring me. No flipping today, ok?”

You nodded before he pressed a gentle kiss to your lips this time. He tried his best not to smile into the kiss, but he couldn’t help it.

You gently punched his chest. “Thur, you do that every single time.”

Arthur brought you back closer. “It’s just because you make me so happy chéri.”

You gave him another peck, before you led him out of the room. He helped you put your helmet on, and did his ritual “forehead kiss” to the top of it. With your handshake also done, you climbed into your car. The mechanics who had seen you with your parents made sure that you were all right. They were met with a bright smile and a thumbs up from you.

For this race, you qualified rather high. Max had pouted because today had been a Ferrari front-row lock out. You had to remind him that he had beaten Charles before from starting father back. It seemed to pacify the Dutchman.

Starting Grid

Charles Leclerc

Carlos Sainz

Max Verstappen

Lando Norris

Y/n L/n

George Russell

Lewis Hamilton

Daniel Ricciardo

Logan Sargeant

Alex Albon

Oscar Piastri

Lance Stroll

Fernando Alonso

Yuki Tsunoda

Nico Hulkenberg

Pierre Gasly

Esteban Ocon

Valtteri Bottas

Zhou Guanyu

Kevin Magnussen

To say this would be one of your worst races (and you'd DNF-ed before), would be an understatement. Your migraine had come back and your water was completely out by the last quarter of the race. You hadn’t been able to keep Charles off for long for Max to catch up, which made Charles take the lead in the second half.

Max had also been confused as you had dropped behind him as well when you should have been your strongest.

You loved racing, but today you hated it. Your brain felt as though it was pounding with a sledge hammer against your skull.

“For the first time in almost two years, Charles Leclerc has grabbed a victory. Charles Leclerc is the winner of the 2024 Imola Grand Prix. Max Verstappen clinches second with his rookie teammate Y/n L/n right behind him to make it a 2-3 for Red Bull. They are followed by Lando Norris and Lewis Hamilton…”

Race Results

Charles Leclerc – 25 points

Max Verstappen – 18 points

Y/n L/n – 15 points

Lando Norris – 12 points

Lewis Hamilton – 11 points

Oscar Piastri – 8 points

Alex Albon – 6 points

George Russell – 4 points

Logan Sargeant – 2 points

Carlos Sainz – 1 point

Fernando Alonso

Yuki Tsunoda

Pierre Gasly

Kevin Magnussen

Nico Hulkenberg

Zhou Guanyu

Valtteri Bottas

Esteban Ocon

Lance Stroll

Daniel Ricciardo

Standings After Imola

Max Verstappen – 168 points

Charles Leclerc – 120 points

Y/n L/n – 80 points

Lando Norris – 73 points

Lewis Hamilton – 60 points

Oscar Piastri – 53 points

George Russell – 35 points

Carlos Sainz – 34 points

Alex Albon – 26 points

Fernando Alonso – 23 points

Daniel Ricciardo – 21 points

Logan Sargeant – 19 points

Lance Stroll

Pierre Galsy

Yuki Tsunoda

Zhou Guanyu

Kevin Magnussen

Nico Hulkenberg

Valtteri Bottas

Esteban Ocon

Constructors Standings

Red Bull – 248 points

Ferrari – 153 points

McLaren – 126 points

Mercedes – 95 points

Williams – 45 points

Aston Martin – 23 points

Racing Bulls – 21 points

Alpha Romeo

Haas

Alpine

When you pulled into Parc Ferme, you barely had the strength to get out of the car. You only found out that you needed to get out was when Max lightly tapped your helmet and held out a hand. You gratefully grabbed it and Max hauled you out.

“Are you ok?” he asked, with concern storming in his blue eyes. A nod of your head pacified him for now.

Your headache only got worse when you spotted your parents standing at the wall. You tried to send the team apologetic looks when you walked right past them, something you never did even if you didn’t even podium for a race. You always ran to their open arms.

You’d send them lots of coffee and gifts for their families to make up for it.

You kept your helmet on for as long as you could. It helped to damper all the loud noise of the paddock.

Max and Charles both recognized that you wanted little to no noise if possible, so they kept quiet or spoke in soft whispers if they did speak. You immediately sat down in a corner, trying to cool off and will your migraine away.

You only opened your eyes once again when you were called to the podium. You were thankful that you didn’t feel any panic as you walked out and stood on the lowest step. You watched as Max walked out and stood on the second place step before watching Charles almost skip to the top step. You giggled as you watched the Ferrari driver subtly stick his tongue out at Max. For a moment, you were scared at the repercussions but Max only smiled and rolled his eyes.

You took off your cap for the Monegasque anthem along with the Italian one. When you were handed your trophy, you gently kissed it (even though it didn’t light up) and held it to the sky while also pointing. The two older drivers watched as you looked so happy. Deep down, they wanted you to be on the top step, but your time was coming.

Max was then handed his trophy. His lips were a bit tight, but he’d get over it.

Charles was quite the opposite. You guessed that he was finally happy that his dry spell was over. A sixth career win and first in almost two years. You clapped as the red-clad driver held his trophy proudly.

Your head was still pounding, but the migraine was slowly going away. You didn’t have much strength to do your usual champagne cannon, but you still sprayed Charles as much as you could. When there wasn’t anything else to spray, you poured the rest on your teammate.

You had a giant smile on your face as you looked down at the crowd. Yet, it slowly disappeared as your eyes found your parents, looking up at you with distain clearly written on their faces. You turned to Max, who was already looking down as well.

He pointed down, though, right next to them where Christian and Geri were both standing, proud smiles on their faces as they looked up at you.

Geri was trying to communicate for you and Max to stand closer and to smile for her camera. You quickly put your hand around his waist to bring him in closer. With trophies raised and bright smiles, she held a thumbs up when she took the picture. Christian just continued to look at the two of you as though you had just won him every single race possible.

You were then assured off the podium and back to the garage.

“I promise, I’ll find you after. You know how much I hate wearing my clothes after they get sticky,” you told Max as you walked toward your drivers room.

You had barely just gotten you shirt on when your door opened and closed.

Your rolled your eyes. “You couldn’t have just waited?”

You turned, expecting either Max or your boyfriend. Yet, you were met with a slap across the face. Your cheek stung as you shakily raised a hand to touch it. A hiss left your lips when your fingers glazed your reddening cheek.

You barely had time to get try to get away, before another hand hit the side of your head, making your migraine slowly creep up again.

This time, a sob slipped through your lips as you looked at your parents, who were fuming.

“What did I do?” you tried to get out, voice cracking.

“After everything we did for you, you can only get a shitty third place?” your mother spit.

“Seriously, how fucking pathetic do you have to be. Offering up the trophy to someone who is dead?” your father questioned.

It was your turn to suddenly seethe. You pointed a finger at your dad. “He loved me. He taught me everything I know.” You knew you were pressing his buttons, and you were about to press the big red one that says Do Not Press. “He was the man that you’d never be.”

Another hit to the face had your head swinging. You knew that there would be a big bruise in the morning. But you were proud for finally standing up to him.

Your mother’s hand hit the other side of your face, sending you staggering back to your dad. You braced yourself for another hit, but it didn’t come. Your eyes opened and widened at the sight of your teammate with murder in his eyes.

Christian was behind him, on the phone, with your manager to the right, boyfriend and his brother on the left.

“You touch her one more time and you’re fucking dead,” Max spoke, scarily calm. Your father jerked to hit him, and that was game over.

Security came quickly after Max had some more colorful words and quite possibly a hit to his face so that your father’s matched yours.

Arthur had come to wrap his arms around you, as a protective barrier.

As you watched your mother and father be led out by cuffs, the news coming that they had been banned for life from any Formula 1 activity, and that Vito had now gotten you a restraining order (something he said that he should have done years ago just in case) – you knew that you had finally found the family that you had always wanted.

The family that you had always needed.

And you’d keep racing and winning, because 4 years ago, you made a promise.

To keep going and to keep fighting.

As you walked out of the garage, with a third place trophy and your helmet, you gently pressed your own kiss to the top of it.

“You’d be proud of me,” you whispered, “and it’s all for you. Because you were everything that I needed.”

y/n.89 has posted

y/n.89 Imola was an experience. Glad I could podium in my late godfather's country to make him proud. I wish he could have been standing there to watch me today, but I have three other men who are enough for me. To Christian, Max, and Vito - I love you three, thanks for always watching my back. Oh, and my boyfriend is pretty great too, he's just shy. Thank you for an amazing experience, I'll be back next year to win (Charlie move over)

tagged: christianhorner, maxverstappen1, and vito_official

liked by christianhorner, maxverstappen1, vito_official, and 94,294 others

y/n_nation I'm not sobbing, you're sobbing

kid_y/n geri and christian both smiling like proud parents killed me

maxverstappen1 why would you do this?

y/n.89 ?? charles_leclerc he's crying right now y/n.89 oh, sorry not sorry?? maxverstappen1 you will be

christianhorner I know I can't speak for him, but he'd be so proud of you kid

gerihalliwellhorner we love you sweetie! can't wait for the next family dinner! maxverstappen1 family dinner? sebastianvettel you didn't get the invite?? y/n.89 oh no christianhorner uhhhhhh charles_leclerc he's crying again

mad_max the way that in every picture, they're looking at y/n

y/n_updates aahhhh the boyfriend has been mentioned!!!

y/n.89 I can't believe we're going to the track that THEE lightning mcqueen drove on

arthur_leclerc you mean...the Monaco Grand Prix....where you live...my hometown...Charles's home race... liamlawson she said what she said - lightning mcqueen's race charles_leclerc I'm done y/n.89 LIGHTNING MCQUEEN RESPONDED TO ME???? LIAM LOOK AT THIS liamlawson I'M LOOKING charles_leclerc goodbye y/n.89 DON'T GO

f1 see you all in Monaco!

author can everyone forgive me now?

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idksmtms · 10 months ago

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Golden Globes (Cillian Murphy x reader)

Summary: Written from the perspective of press and viewers of the golden globes; how cute are Cillian Murphy and his girlfriend Y/n L/n?! From the red carpet to his acceptance speech, look at what a mesmerising couple these two make!

Word count: 2,250

Trigger Warnings: she/her pronouns, AFAB reader, very slight profanity, mostly just fluff (please let me know if I missed any)

Disclaimer: This is written purely for fictional purposes and for the sake of writing. No disrespect is intended to the real people portrayed/concerned in this scenario.

AN: Inspired by Yvonne and Cillian actually being the cutest couple ever at the Golden Globes. Also, if you catch the sneaky Succession reference: mwah! Edit: Just watched an interview clip where he says everyone calls him Cill as his nickname and I will be gratuitously using that from now on.

Always appreciate comments, likes, and reblogs :)

Part 1: Red Carpet

“And next to arrive onto the red carpet is Cillian Murphy! He’s a favourite to win the Golden Globe for Best Actor in a Drama Motion Picture, and I mean, rightly so, he killed it in Oppenheimer!”

“Right?! And I have to say, whoever styled him tonight knew what they were doing, because mmm chef’s kiss right there.”

“For real, but knowing him he probably grabbed an old suit out of his closet and put it on, hahahah.”

“I bet he wishes, but Y/n would never let him, and there she is! Oh look how stunning she looks! For all our viewers who are unaware, that’s Y/n L/n, Cillian Murphy’s girlfriend and the other half of our favourite couple!”

“Is that a vintage Schiaparelli?! Um, someone did not come to play. Aw, look how cute they are, he refuses to let go of her hand. I want a man like that.”

“The way he smiles at her?! You can really tell they love each other, and awwww she’s blushing!!! You guyssssss, I can’t handle this.”

“Hahahah, she’s forcing him to go out and strut his stuff, how sweet. That’s the definition of a supportive partner right there, always wanting you to have your moment to shine.”

“Honestly, and like, I know we’re supposed to be watching Cillian but guys look how SHE watches him. That’s true love right there, and no one can convince me otherwise.”

“D’you remember that interview where he talked about the little gifts she gets him at the end of each of his movies?”

“Oh my god yeah, that was adorable, she makes him something small to remember each of his movies, like she knits or crochets or crafts something for him right?”

“Yeah, exactly, well apparently, since this was his sixth movie with Nolan, she made the little tokens for all the producers and like the lead team. I was in TEARS when I heard, because who is that sweet? Like who is THAT sweet to their partner’s whole team?”

“I didn’t know that, oh my god, I love her even more. No wonder Cillian loves her, I get it, I fully support it.”

“Ok, seems like Cillian’s done getting his pictures taken and- aw! He’s looking for her! Cillian, bestie, she’s right there, ok ok ok, they found each other. Look at that hug!”

“A man who adjusts the train of your dress like that to help you walk easier??? That is a man worth having, and Cillian Murphy is clearly the best man. Gosh look at the way she leans into him when they walk, and he’s just rubbing her back all soft and sweet, aaaaa I think I’m gonna melt.”

“Oo! Ok, they’re going for interviews and the next person to come up is…”

Part 1.2: Interview

“Hi Cillian! How are you feeling tonight?”

“I’m doing well thank you, a little nervous I guess, how are you?”

“I’m great! Having a lot of fun here at the Golden Globes! How did you enjoy the red carpet? Any chance to meet others yet?”

“Yeah, it’s grand, very… opulent, heh, and no! Unfortunately I haven’t had a chance to properly greet anyone yet, but I’m sure when we get inside I’ll have plenty of time for that.”

“Alright, let’s talk about your movie for a bit, how does it feel to see all the recognition it’s getting?”

“It feels deserved, you know? Everyone worked so hard on that film and put in a hundred and ten percent and it feels like people have really noticed it and seen not only the talent but the effort the team put in.”

“Were you expecting such resounding fame for the movie?”

“I mean, I definitely knew at least some people would watch it because Chris made it, hahaha, and people have recognised how amazing he is, but I guess you never really know how popular a movie is going to be until it comes out. But it’s truly amazing to see how it resonated with audiences.”

“You’ve spoken in past interviews about the importance of a strong and accepting support system for people in this line of work, how did such an intense movie fit into your life?”

“I mean, I treated it like I treat all my roles - it is a job at the end of the day - but it’s always great to have my family willing to put up with odd schedules and having to be away from home for long periods of time. My girlfriend, heh, she’s actually really great with this stuff. She always makes sure to call me while I’m away, she comes to visit as often as she can, and she just has this way of making anywhere feel like home, you know? Regardless of where I am, or what I’m doing, I can count on her, and that’s probably the best part of my life. It’s a really bad habit of hers but she stays up late with me if I have an oddly timed call or interview or whatever, just to be there with me.”

“Aw, that’s so sweet! It’s amazing the way you talk about her, she sounds like a great person!”

“She really really is. I mean, there’s some people out there who are just blessed with the biggest hearts and even just their presence can make life better, you know? And that’s her. I don’t know where I would be without her in my life to be honest with you.”

“Oh how cute! Well, we’ll let you go, tell your girlfriend how much we love her, and good luck with your award tonight!”

“Thank you.”

Part 2: The Main Event

“And the Golden Globe goes to… Cillian Murphy!” You let out a rather unholy shriek that you were sure would be caught on camera and posted all over, but you were too excited to care. You jumped up, grabbing Cillian by his shoulders and pressing your lips to his mouth and face, over and over until there were lipstick smudges across his nose.

“You did it Cill! You did it,” you whispered, rubbing at his face to try and wipe away the lipstick. He had the lightest red splotches across his nose and cheek but they mixed into the flush on his skin so you let him be after a moment. Your face hurt from smiling, your whole body buzzing because finally, finally, he had gotten the recognition he had long deserved.

“Oh boy, my first question, do I have lipstick all over my nose? Ah, I’m just gonna leave it. Um, I-I knew the first time that I walked on Chris Nolan’s set that it was different. I could tell by the level of rigour, the level of focus, the level of dedication, the complete lack of any seating options for actors, heheh, that it was-that I was in the hands of a visionary director and master. I wanna thank Chris, and Emma, for having the faith in me for-for twenty years, and six feckin pictures! So, thanks so much. Um, one of the most beautiful and vulnerable things about being an actor is that you can’t do it on your own, really, and we had the most incredible ensemble cast in this movie, it was magic, and some of them are here today. Emily Blunt, Robert Downey Jr, Matt Damon, Gary Oldman, thank you for carrying me and holding me through this movie. Um, thank you to- thank you! Uh, thank you to Dara Langley, and everyone at Universal for believing in this movie from the very beginning. Uh, oh! To all my fellow nominees - if you’re Irish or not - you’re all legends, stunning work guys, I salute you. Um, to all my reps, all my team, uh thank you so much you’re the best. To my girlfriend, you are the light of my life, the love I couldn’t live without, thank you for always being there. To my family, I’m the luckiest man, I love you, thanks so much guys!”

Part 3: Top Ten

“Hello everyone and welcome back to the ATN News youtube channel! Today we are looking at our top ten favourite Cillian Murphy moments from the Golden Globes and spoiler alert: they all have something to do with his girlfriend because, let’s face it guys, they’re our favourite unproblematic power couple! Just a reminder that we did similar videos for some other celebrities so you can check them out on our channel but let’s get started!

Number 1: When they were walking into the hall and he held her purse for her! This is a personal favourite because I love someone who notices the little things, and the fact that he just kinda slipped it from her hands?? Cuteness overload.

Number 2: This one is my personal favourite. During the break, the camera was just kinda moseying around and it caught them whispering to each other and just laughing. Look at how lovey dovey they are, leaning against each other, just whispering in each other’s ears. I really wanna know what they’re saying because I’m sure they are the most hilarious people on earth, but it’s also so intimate that I don’t wanna disturb them, you know? And she’s holding his hand in her lap aaaa! I have to move on otherwise I’m just gonna sit here and watch this all day.

Number 3: Ok, at number three we have the couple’s red carpet glam moment! After getting some solo pictures taken, Cillian had Y/n walk the carpet with him and they slayed. I mean they slayyyyyed. Their outfits were amazing, their chemistry was amazing, their poses were amazing just- amazing. The fact that she did the little heel kick in one of the pictures?? Iconic. Cillian, Y/n, if you guys are looking for recommendations I would frame the picture where Y/n’s kissing the air just before Cillian’s cheek, it’s funny and it’s cute.

Number 4: This is a moment from an interview he gave where they asked him about life with Y/n, take a listen.

“You know she’s just the best. We both have our own strengths at home and I think they fit together so well and it just works perfectly. Like, I’m terrible at D.I.Y. Just absolutely hopeless, and good or not, she’s tenacious. If she starts a project for the house, no matter how hard, she will learn what to do and she will finish it. It’s inspiring honestly. Just every little thing she does inspires me.”

Number 5: Halfway through and this might also be my personal favourite (agh I can’t choose!). When Y/n fed Cillian something from her plate?? Guys, when I saw that, I kid you not I almost melted. She just gently taps his shoulder, lifts her fork to his mouth, and feeds him. Was he too nervous to eat?? Did she notice and make sure he ate something?? Or is that just something they do? Like if you walked into their house at a random dinner time she might just randomly feed him something?? Either way, it was cute and I bet they make everyone sick with their love and I’m here for it.

Number 6: Another simple one, but when he sat back with his arm over her chair? He just kinda leaned to the side and put his arm on the back of her chair and she just kinda shifted closer into his side- and they didn’t even stop their conversations with other people! They just did it! Being that intune with someone is just nghdhm. I have no words.

Number 7: Alright, so some fan pics came out after the event of the couple leaving the venue, and look at this, he’s carrying her shoes for her!!! The pictures are a little grainy, but you can clearly see him holding the heels that she was wearing during the event while they walk to the car. She’s even carrying his award for him, what a bunch of cutiepies!

Number 8: Another one from the fan pics - and another personal favourite (leave me alone) - is those cuties dancing on the street! I think it’s near their house and the pictures capture him twirling her, and they’re both laughing so much and then they’re hugging and Cillian’s just swaying her (all while holding that Golden Globe mind you) and they just look so happy and in love. Brb, I need something to tackle this overdose of cute.

Number 9: Our second last moment is when Y/n kissed Cillian right before he went up to accept his award! Just, the scream, the kiss, the lipstick on his face, all of it is so perfect. And the fact that he left it on his face while giving his speech? Our king, have no shame, proudly show her love!

Number 10: And of course, the final favourite has to be Cillian’s speech. He was funny, he was gracious, and honestly? It was perfect. If my boyfriend called me the light of his life in a room full of famous people, on a live broadcast that like millions of people are watching, I would probably just start proposing to him at that moment. Like he really said “the love I couldn’t live without” can you imagine that kind of devotion?! I want that.

Anyway! Thanks for watching our top ten Cillian Murphy moments. Don’t forget to like and subscribe!”

AN: Yes, I did transcribe his whole acceptance speech. No further questions.

Taglist: @4ria790

#cillian murphy imagine #cillian murphy fanfiction #cillian x reader #cillian murphy #cillian x fem!reader #cillian x y/n #cillianmurphy #cillian #cillian fic #cillian murphy x y/n #cillian murphy x reader #oppenheimer #christopher nolan

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concretecultist · 4 months ago

Text

Sunshine (muscle memory pt. 2)

summary: "true love never leaves, sometimes it just gets lost temporarily. lost in pride and ego, lost in confusion and misunderstanding. but love being lost is never the end; sometimes love needs to breathe before it finds home again."

word count: 17.6k

pairing: reader x noah sebastian

warnings: angst, talks of mental health, feelings of guilt, mentions of marijuana usage, crying, dad!noah, FLUFF

THIS IS PURE FICTION AND IS FOR ENTERTAINMENT PURPOSES ONLY!!!

A/N: yeah so idk how to write short stories really 😭 so this is a long one!! Please make sure to comment and reblog as it helps us writers out immensely!! Much love!

~Berry🫐

“You’re so full of shit!,”

Matt had come back into town, rushing to tell Noah and the guys what had happened while he was out. Noah, Nicholas and Jolly were playing a video game on the big screen when Matt rushed in, Folio nodding in and out of sleep with a bag of chips in his hands after facing a whole blunt by himself.

“Bro, I know what I fucking saw,” Matt was seething, does Noah really think he would lie about something like this? “This wasn’t some Y/N doppelgänger, it was Y/N and she had a baby, a little girl.. who looks just like you might I add. It’s weird!,”

Noah felt like his stomach fell out of his ass. Matt has to be bullshitting. Maybe you were babysitting? There’s no way you had a baby. There’s no way he had a baby.

“It’s hard to tell who babies look like when they’re still that young. Maybe the guy who told you to go away was her new boyfriend,” Jolly tried to justify.

Matt frowned at Jolly’s disposition. Everyone in this room knew you like the palm of their hands. It took you a while to open up to Noah and become his girlfriend and even longer to open up to them to consider them playfully-annoying brothers.

“She’s not like that,” Nicholas clicked away at his controller, brows furrowing as he soaks in the conversation.

Matt clapped his hands and pointed to Nicholas as if to say that the point he made was based, and it was.

Nicholas continued speaking while keeping his eyes trained on the screen, absolutely obliterating the characters within the game, “I mean think about it. If what Matt is saying is true-,”

“And it is!,” Matt interjected but all Nicholas did was roll his eyes and continue speaking,

“-Then the time between Noah and Y/N breaking up versus now, would not be enough time for her to get pregnant by someone else,”

“One night stand after they broke up?,” Folio answered absentmindedly.

“You know damn well that’s not how Y/N is,” Matt just wanted to pull his hair out, “If you saw that baby then you guys would see I’m not lying,”

Noah felt like he might be sick. Even if you two broke up, you would tell him that you were pregnant… right?

But then again, the last few months of your relationship, he wasn’t there, emotionally nor physically so he can’t blame you if you didn’t. It doesn’t hurt any less though and he doesn’t know what to believe.

“Where the hell did you even see her? I figured she jumped ship,” Noah shrugged, “And even if this is the case, Matt. She blocked all of us on… o-on everything so how do you expect me to go about this?,”

The silence from the blond was enough of an answer for Noah but Matt’s silence didn’t mean he didn’t have one.

“Why are you so adamant on denying this?,”

“I’m not!,” Noah let his character go idle long enough for Nicholas to say fuck it and actually pause the entire game, “I just don’t know what to do! I mean, if she acted like she didn’t want to see you then what makes you think she’ll want to see me?,”

The guys knew Noah had a point, but he should still try.

“It’s Sunday. Every other Sunday she goes to the markets and you should know that because you would always be at the studio with Jolly so she would take me with her,” Matt stood there with his arms crossed, he watched the gears turn in Noah’s head but he knew the brunet still wasn’t getting it.

“Okay?,” Noah was stumped.

“Which means she still has her routines, dork!,” he tapped his fingers to his temple as if to tell Noah to ‘fucking think’

“Meaning on Wednesday, she’ll be at the actual grocery store getting what she couldn’t at the market,” Nicholas answered for Matt.

“Are we sure any of this is a good idea?,” Jolly probed, “If you guys ended mutually then one, why would she not tell you, two, why would she block all of us, and three, why would she act like that when seeing Matt?,”

Jolly, Matt and Nicholas had their suspicions about the breakup. Noah had told them it was pretty cut and dry but they could never get your side as you pretty much went off the grid.

“I don’t know!,” Noah held his hands up in frustration, “I don’t know why you guys are acting like I’m not blindsided here,”

“There’s only one grocery store within the town I saw her near. Don’t be on any stalker shit but I’ll bet you my fucking mixing equipment she’ll be there on a Wednesday at 4:45 before the after work rush comes,” Matt refuted.

It felt strange to Noah that all of his friends seemed to read you like a book, but when he thinks about you, you seem like a mystery. Maybe it’s because you had no choice but to become one after a while. It’s his fault you closed yourself off. You tried until you couldn’t yet Noah made your efforts seem pointless. Noah had neglected you, he became a stranger who wasn’t involved in your routines anymore and he’s had more than enough time to realize that after you left.

When you left it felt like his world had stopped. How did he fuck up so bad? Letting the voices in his head get to him, pushing you away with the idea that you’ll someday be with someone who deserves you. The demons in his head convinced him that he wasn’t that someone.

He let the weight of the world crush him. He let the brain fog cloud his vision, his judgment and now here he is, doing his best to get better. Now has the news that he may or may not be a father. He’s spooked by the idea. If he couldn’t be a good partner how does he expect you to let him in for a chance to be a good father… if he can find you that is? He’s petrified.

Except he knows damn well it doesn’t outweigh the panic you felt when he pushed you away, forcing you to go through it all alone.

It had been about two and a half weeks or so since your run in with Matt and it has done nothing but prompted you to stay inside more than you already have been. Reid agreed to drop off your needed items and even stuck around to help around the house. He’s even brought Ms. Ernie by as she’s missed you.

You wanted to get out though. You missed going on walks around the woods, missed stepping foot on the outskirts of the city. You couldn’t hide away forever and you really couldn’t do that to Noelle, she needed to see the outside world.

That’s how you found yourself in the supermarket in town with Ms. Ernie as she asked you what you wanted for dinner.

“I think some mashed potatoes and steamed broccoli will be good sides,” you suggested.

“Want gravy?,”

“No, I’m more of a butter and pepper kinda gal,” you lightly nudged her, patting Noelle’s bottom as she laid quietly in her baby wrap against your chest.

“You kids don’t appreciate good gravy anymore,” she playfully rolled her eyes.

This is something you really needed. Was this a friendship you expected to have? Absolutely not, still it helps you feel normal. You share your eggs from your chickens and she makes you milk and yogurt, she always invites you over for Wednesday dinner, you invite her over for a nice cool lunch while she’s on break from the truck.

“What do we want for dessert?,” you ask, looking at the array of fresh baked goods.

“Pick whatever you want, sweetie. I’ll be right back, I’m gonna go look at the teas, I’m running low and I think they’re on sale!” she waved, taking the cart to go get her favorite brand of iced tea.

“What are we feeling, Sunshine?,” you lightly bounce, her hand reaching up to feel your cheek, “Do we want carrot cake, red velvet? Ouuu that caramel crumble apple pie sounds gooooood,”

You look at her, heart swelling while she just squeals and smiles at you. You never expected yourself to be a parent, a single parent at that- but smiling down at this face, with the cutest, chubbiest cheeks and big, animated eyes, you wouldn’t trade this for anything.

“I know, I think we should get all of them too,” you rub your nose against hers just to hear her babble again. You would never get tired of that sound, it became your favorite song.

“But!-” you open the cooler door and begin reaching, “-Mama is really craving the red velvet,”

Unfortunately for you though, it was on the top shelf and you just weren’t tall enough. You hear yourself grunt as you reach and honestly it’s rather embarrassing. You try again and see no one nearby to ask for help and you feel defeated. All you wanted was a nice piece of cake. Deciding to give up, you slap your hand down against your thigh and look to Noelle to pout at her, “I guess it wasn’t meant to be”

While you were looking at her, you were in your own world. Everything just seemed to stop when you peered into those eyes. Noelle nuzzled her cheek against the back of your finger as you caressed it. All you wanted was a nice dinner followed by eating cake while she slept on your chest, a nice night with you and Ms. Ernie competing against each other while watching a game show.

You were so caught up in adoring your daughter that you didn’t see the large hand that reached over your head to grab the cake you desired.

“Here you go,” a hopeful drone made its way into your ears.

You were so set on having a good night except when you looked up, your smile immediately fell and you were frozen. Your eyes seemed to deceive you because there was no way this was real. You had to be dreaming. There’s no way he’s standing in front of you.

Your body betrayed you. Everyone speaks of fight or flight and a part of you always believed that if you were in a situation where you had to choose, that you’d choose flight, not being the fighting type and opting to always run and hide. But… Now that you’re in a situation like this, there’s a third option many don’t acknowledge.

Freeze.

There’s fight.

There’s flight..

and then there’s freeze…

And you froze.

Your mind and body let you down. Your feet should be carrying your body as far away from his as possible but you just can’t move. You’re trying but they won’t budge.

That smile he shines isn’t helping either. It's an expression you want to wipe off his face but for some reason you can’t help but continue to stare because it’s a smile that you never expected to see again. It clicks that your mind is betraying you again because why are you finding comfort in it?

His eyes were tired but still so beautiful. You notice they hold hope as well as hesitation.

“You always did like red velvet,” he snickered but you didn’t find anything funny. What kind of sick joke is this?

“Get away from me,” you whisper. It sounded more confident in your head, you didn’t want to sound weak. Another bodily betrayal.

“I’m not here to scare you or hurt you. I just want to talk,” he caught a glimpse of the gorgeous baby in your wrap and his breath was taken away.

Matt was right and not just about the baby. But your routines. You never strayed far from your habits, so to see you walking in the store with your baby to your chest made this much more real than Noah could process at once. The poor guy doesn’t know if he’s relieved or scared shitless.

“There’s nothing to talk about. She’s not even yours,” your eyes flit as the tears fall down your cheeks. It felt like you were suffocating now. You know Matt spilled and really, you couldn’t blame him because if you were in Noah’s position, you’d want to be told as well. But then again.. you wouldn’t be in this position if you were him because you would’ve tried to save your relationship.

Being found so easily wasn’t something you planned and now you’re battling the feelings of wanting to slap him or run in his arms because while he hurt you- Noah was it for you. He was endgame. Seeing him stirred all these feelings inside that were now giving you vertigo, causing your stomach to swirl and a lump to form in your throat.

“Y/N, she looks just like me. There’s a lot to talk about,”

He tried to get another glimpse but you shielded her in the wrap. No, no way in hell. Taking a giant step back, you hold her closer, “I won’t let you take her away from me. She’s all I have, Noah. I won’t let you,”

Noah took a step forward and could only brandish defeat when you took yet another step back.

“I’m not trying to take her from you,” Noah knows he has no right to be offended. Like, let’s think- you two broke up and his best friend bumped into you, now Noah knows about his child and he found you in a random supermarket after you fought tooth and nail to stay away from him. It would make sense why you think he’d take her from you, but that’s far from what Noah wants. It’s a long shot but he wants to make this right.

Noah understands that he fucked up in the past but he wouldn’t do that to you, “That’s why I want to talk. I want a chance to be there,”

A scoff from you echoes in the empty aisle. How rich.

“You weren’t even there for me and you expect me to believe you’ll be there for her?,” You grit through your teeth, “She is too precious to be let down by you, Noah. Do it to me all you want but not when it comes to my daughter,”

A frown etched its way onto Noah’s face, waving his hands as if to say ‘wait, hold up’. He knows he hasn’t been there but he’s not about to be some deadbeat.

“Our… daughter,” he corrected, “You didn’t even give me a chance to know so I could be there,”

“You’ve got some fucking nerve!,” your voice had gone shrill and you were thankful that there was little to no people in the store. You wished he would have approached you outside, then you really wouldn’t have to worry about keeping your voice down.

“ ‘Our’ daughter, Noah? Really?! If you weren’t there before I was pregnant-,”

“I told you I just needed time,” he interjected, still holding onto that sentiment.

“I gave you four years!,” you spat, “Four years of me, Noah. I gave you four years to learn how to love me. To learn how to communicate even up until the end,”

Who knows how much time he would have needed. Who knows if he’d have even gotten his shit together by the time you found out you were with child and gave birth. Having Noelle now, you know for certain you couldn’t have just sat with idle hands.

“Y/N please,” he begged, still holding the cake in his hands, “I love you and I fucked up. It’s been killing me since the day you left and how I never had to chance to make it right, then Matt told me-”

“Matt is wrong. Matt doesn’t know what he’s talking about!,” you really weren’t trying to make a scene here and you were still trying to convince Noah that Noelle wasn’t his.

“She has my eyes, Y/N. She’s a perfect mix of you and me. Please, just, can we talk about this over coffee. I know you don’t owe me anything but can we meet for lunch or something?,”

Before you could answer with a fat ass denial, Ms. Ernie is coming up with her noisy cart, scooting along with a small frown on her face.

“They done moved my tea, I had to ask for help,” she frowned. She was never the type to like asking for help in stores, she liked it when things were easy to find.

She moves to stand beside you, waiting for your response but then she notices the look of shock you’re wearing and meets Noah’s eyes. It took her a second before she gawked, looking to Noelle and back to Noah.

“That’s that baby’s daddy!,” she looks over her glasses and you loudly sigh at her statement. She didn’t always read the room well.

“Ms. Ernie!,”

“Sorry, honey but it’s undeniable,” she shrugs, looking back to Noah, “You gonna put that cake in my cart or just stand there looking pretty,”

Noah stammered before rushing to set the cake down in the cart and turning to you. Words seem to catch in his throat, not exactly sure what to say.

“I know you blocked us all on everything so just… reach out when you’re ready. I really would like to talk about all of this,”

“I gotta go” Looking to Ms. Ernie so that she would get the hint to start walking. You knew you were in for a long night of her lectures, no matter how insightful they always were, you weren’t ready.

You had a feeling for how the night would go now. This feeling had your stomach queasy as if you’re on a boat, feeling the waves rock you to and fro. It was hard to face the music but she was going to make you. That’s just how Ms. Ernie was, you just weren’t ready for her to be right about it all.

“Give him a chance, sweetie,”

Noelle was fast asleep while you leaned on Ms. Ernie’s shoulder, eating your cake and watching Wheel of Fortune. You wanted your night to go just like this but it wasn’t enjoyable, not with all that was plaguing your mind.

“I can’t let him back in,” you think about it, recalling how bad it hurt you the first time around, “Now that Noey is involved, I can’t let my guard down. I’m a mom now, I have to protect her,”

“I’m not saying throw your whole hand in,” she sipped her tea, “Have a drink with him. I can call Reid to help me with our cute lil plum,”

It wasn’t a secret to how badly you were emotionally wounded when you and Noah parted ways, but it also wasn’t a secret to Ms. Ernie just how bad you love him. From the day you met her, she claimed you and Noah would find your way back to each other. You always told her it was a fat chance. Even now, your heart was playing tug of war.

Do you stay away? Leaving him to wallow in his bad decisions? or do you lean into the possibility of mending things?

“I never stopped loving him, that’s why I’m scared,” you sit up to look at her, she looked so noble when looking at you over her glasses like that, “I watched him love me less and less until our love just became an empty shell. I watched him pick his job over me and I can’t put her through that,”

Ms. Ernie reached over to wipe your tears when she caught sight of your trembling chin. It was comforting, like a grandma tending to her grandchild while they experienced a melancholic mood.

“Take it slow. Take time to get to know the new him and he can take the time to get to know the new you,”

“Does he deserve that though?,”

“Mmm,” she shrugged, “Sometimes a lot of good can come out of a second chance. What if you and him were meant to part ways, only so you two could find each other again?”

“Love shouldn’t come to that, no?,” a twinge of confusion worming its way into your tone

“Oh honey. You’ve got a lot to learn about love,” she lightly swatted your leg, “No amount of time and space can separate you from those that are meant to be in your life. This is a second chance to create a new story,”

You called it. You knew she was gonna get all philosophical on you and be right about all of this.

“Don’t rush into it but…” she sighed, “Give it a shot,”

You don’t even know if you were strong enough to lift the metaphorical gun to give it a shot. Pondering her words each bite at a time while you finish your treat, how do you go about this without immediately falling in love with him again? He was so easy to love even when you didn’t want to, even in his faults. One look at him and it felt like the first day you met him.

You were standing at the bus stop one day, sighing at having to take public transportation as your anxiety has been in overdrive since your car was in the shop. Public transportation meant a lot of people in close quarters and you just couldn’t handle that right now.

In the midst of your mind being in a flurry, a group of rowdy men are approaching. You’re too caught up in trying to reduce your apprehension to notice them getting closer until a nameless man bumps into you, knocking your token out of your hand.

Watching it fly from your hand, floating in mid air, all you can do is try to catch it but it just wasn’t your day. Your token falls down the street drain and your gasp causes the rowdy group to stop.

“No! No, no, no, no noooo!,” you fall to your knees and look down the drain to see the token shining up from the bottom. It was mocking you.

“Dang it!,” your head falls in your hands, wallowing in embarrassment. The token station was 9 blocks away, there was no way you’d make it there and back in time. Of course the transit app wasn’t working on your phone either, you’d been telling yourself to get a new phone carrier for months now, now look at you.

“I’m… so sorry!,”

Removing your head from your hands, your eyes move in the direction in which the voice came. Your breath is instantly taken away once again but for a whole other reason.

“I can pay for another token,” he offers, helping you up, his large hands grasping your biceps to get you up right.

“No it’s okay I can-,”

“Please. It’s the least I can do,” the tall brunet insisted. Your words are caught in your throat, eyes trying to drink in his beauty before he becomes only a memory.

“Nice going, Noah!,” a tall blond wearing a hat pushes him.

“Watch where you’re going, asshole,” another chuckled, he was also decked out in tattoos, gorgeous black hair and glittering eyes.

But your eyes were on the inked man in front of you, the one who made your day even more of a rollercoaster than it already has been. While his friends make fun of him, your eyes are tracing over his tattoos, you’d never seen so many on one body in person before.

“Is… is that a Garden of Eden reference?,” you point to his neck.

He touches his throat and chuckles, a noise that you weren’t aware would change your life.

“Yeah, yeah it is,”

“It’s nice,” you mutter, afraid to speak above a certain octave. You don’t talk to people much, you were only a lonely librarian who went to work, staying in the basement all day to organize books and then go home.

“Thanks…?” he trails off but points to you ask if to ask you a question

“Y/N,” you spill out, “M-my name is Y/N,” you anxiously stick out your hand for him to take and shake, “I think he just called you Noah?,”

“Yeah that’s me,” his smile… my God his smile was hypnotizing. His smile could cure all sadness

“You owe me a bus pass,” you point out, “A-and… and I can pay you back over a cup of tea and some fresh scones at my favorite bakery downtown,”

Your confidence not only caught him off guard, but you as well. You’d never suggest something like that to someone and now you’re overthinking the fact that you’ve made such a fool of yourself.

“Sorry that was… that was abrasive and demanding. That was so rude. Y-you were just being nice and I just… you’re just so pretty and oh my God… Y/N shut up-,”

“Hey,” he softly talked over you, wanting to calm you down without scaring you.

“We’ll stick around until the bus comes so I can pay for your pass and we can trade numbers to set up a date for those scones,”

A date… a DATE?! You’ve only ever been on a handful of dates before and they all went terribly. Surely he didn’t mean like… a date-date, right? Like, you’re sure he just meant a little meetup so you could actually pay him back.

“O-okay!,” wide eyed, you nod your head and look around to his friends that are smiling and laughing and you don’t know if they’re laughing at you. It’s okay if they are, you’re used to it.

“Don’t mind them. They’re assholes,”

“We are not!,” a shorter man punches his arm, “I’m Nick by the way, but you can call me Folio. That’s Jolly, Nicholas, Matt, Davis and Bryan!,”

You nod to them all, making a note of their names.

“Y/N,” you sputter, “I’m Y/N,”

“We heard,” Jolly smiled.

“Right,” you give a bashful smile and turn from them to sit on the bench, “The buses are running 20 minutes late today so you really don’t have to wait,” you set your book in your lap.

“I insist. If these jerks are in a rush, they can go without me,” Noah throws a hand back at them. He’s not surprised that that’s exactly what they did.

They left Noah there, giving you two the chance to talk about the most random things, like your favorite book genres to read, things on your bucket list, aliens, paranormal shit. Just fun things. This is the most you’ve talked to any stranger you’ve ever met, you don’t even talk to your co workers like this.

Noah let you yap about your interests, he admired the way you animated your speech with your hands. He was absolutely enamored with the way you bounced in your seat when he brought up a topic that excited you and he made a mental bookmark so he could memorize the way your eyes close when you laugh.

Noah didn’t believe in love at first sight but this felt like it.

While discussing your favorite twilight characters, the noise of the approaching bus pulled you from your conversation, Noah can see how your face dropped. Your conversation went by too quickly.

“We can have more conversations like this,” Noah shows you his screen, displaying his number and you curse to yourself, knowing he can see you shaking while you hurry to type it into your phone. Your heart was beating out of your chest, he is so sweet and so fricken cute and his tattoos are so cool and he just sat here to talk to YOU?! No one ever just talks to you.

He’s even nice enough to help you onto the bus and get you seated before saying his saddened farewells to leave you. His demeanor gave off reluctance and you felt like you were in a rom-com when he stood outside the bus, waving as it began rolling away.

Your face was hotter than hell, there’s no way any of that just happened. Your phone felt heavy in your hands, demanding to be opened. Gnawing at your lip, your fingers dance on your screen, trying to figure out what to say.

You went with a simple text, something quirky. Something that you hope he’ll answer to and not ghost you after the way you opened up to him so easily.

“So… about those scones?”

All those memories flood back and you can feel the dampness of your face. Where did that Noah go?

How did your once grey world that become so colorful so quickly with his presence, fade into grey once more with his absence in the blink of an eye?

What happened to him that he became so detached? What was lying beneath the surface that he let fester until he let it impact your relationship?

You feel Ms. Ernie takes the plate away from you and rests her hand on your cheek, pulling you out of the pit you were digging with your overactive questioning.

“I got the spare bedroom ready for ya, go get some rest,”

Taking her advice, Noelle snuggled into you as you carried her to the spare room where Ms. Ernie had set up a spare bassinet. You had tucked her in, making sure she was safe and secure before plopping down on the bed with a large sigh, heels of your palms pressing into your eyes to subdue your flowing tears. Now that you were alone, the weight of everything came down.

Tired of feeling so scatterbrained, you grabbed your phone, tapping away at the screen to have your thumb hovering over his name. Was this a good idea? Do you give in this easily? Would this be healthy for your mental state right now? Maybe Matt was right, this wasn’t about you, this was about Noelle, she deserved her dad, right?

But what about protecting her? You didn’t want to introduce him into her life just for him to turn around and jump ship when things got too hard.

Here goes the vicious cycle of overthinking and all the possibilities that made themselves known with the heaviness, giving you no other choice but to feel it filling up your chest. How soon did you want to do this? Did you even want to do this at all?

You’ve been blaming yourself since that day at the market. Had you gone earlier like you always do, you wouldn’t have bumped into Matt, or if you had paid attention, you could have avoided him. There were so many outcomes the universe shuffled in its hand and yet the card you were dealt was the situation you were facing right now.

Finally having enough of your own inner dialogue, a deep breath escapes you when clicking on his contact, closing your eyes when hitting Unblock Caller

Just like the day you met him, you’re faced with the challenge of what to say, except this time there was nothing cute or quirky to say. It was simple and serious.

Tomorrow 12pm at the bakery downtown.

That’s all you could come up with before pressing send. It’s almost like he was waiting by his phone, waiting for you to reach out and it makes you kick yourself. What if this is a set up and you’re falling into his plan.

Wait, no.

Noah has messed up but, He wouldn’t do that… would he? He wouldn’t hurt you any further. You hope you’re right because now this is happening.

I’ll be there.

Sleep fought you all night. In and out of sleep to either tend to Noelle or simply because your mind wouldn’t power down for the night. When you were finally able to get some shut-eye, it was like it was already time for the sun to rise.

Ms. Ernie had breakfast ready for you after you fed Noelle, scooting around her quaint kitchen humming the tune of a classic she grew up listening to. Your nerves were bad as you thought of the day ahead.

“So, what are your plans today?,” she questions.

Slowly chewing your food, your eyes avert down to the table. Why do you feel so embarrassed to admit that you’re meeting him today despite her calling it?

“I uhm, I was going to ask if-,”

“Yes. Reid is already on his way,” the elderly woman delivered a smug expression, she’s been on Earth long enough to know how young love works.

You chuckle at her and shake your head, “You don’t even know what I was going to ask,”

“Baby, I can read you like a book. You’re gonna go see him. I could tell before you went to bed last night. We’ve spent enough time together for me to know you’re not over him,”

Knowing this fact made you feel an ounce of shame. You should be over him. He showed his ass last year yet you’re not sure if the alarm bells that are going off in your head are due to actual warning or if they’re sounding off because you can’t seem to do anything other than overthink. It’s a terrible habit and an even more terrible predicament to be in.

“Am I jumping into this?,” you rub Noelle’s back absentmindedly, enjoying the weight of her in your arms to ground you. Maybe you should have given it a couple days. Did it seem desperate to message him so soon? You were supposed to hate his guts

“It was going to have to happen at some point, dear,” she shrugs while cleaning the kitchen, “You’ve left some bricks of milk in the freezer, you’ve left some spare bottles, diapers, all that. With Reid here to help me she’s in good hands times 2,”

Almost as if she had summoned him, Reid knocks and enters through her front door, a bright smile on his face that you’ve come to learn really helps calm you down. You were thankful for the connections you’ve made since being on your own.

These people were your village and you were in good hands, meaning Noelle was too.

“Gooooooood morning!!,” he claps, hugging Ms. Ernie before moving to you to steal a piece of bacon off your plate. Reid hugs you as well, taking Noelle from your arms.

“I can’t forget you, sunshine!,” he holds her up in the air and she screams in excitement, dropping her head on his chest when he pulls her in.

Ms. Ernie could tell your nerves were getting the best of you, it’s happened enough times to know that spaced out look on your eyes.

“Finish eating and get ready. You can take my car,” she scoots around the kitchen to set her keys on the counter.

“I can call an Uber” not wanting to impose

“Nonsense!,” she waves her hand with a frown, “Your car is back at the cabin, my car doesn’t get much use cause I always take my truck. It’s not a problem,”

Reid sits beside you and rubs your back as a means of comfort, it’s written all over your face that you’re distraught, you never did master your poker face.

“Hey, you got this,”

You drop your head on the table and can feel the tears welling once more.

“Am I stupid for letting him in so easily?,” the familiar knot was forming in your throat, warning that tears would soon begin to fall if you didn’t pull yourself together, “He literally told me he didn’t love me like he used to, then last night says he never stopped. It’s hurting my head. I went about year without him and now I’m going to meet him and I’m terrified,”

“Y/N,” Reid began, “How do eat an elephant?,”

You turn to him and frown at his question. But this is Reid, you know he’s about to say something corny.

“How?,”

“One bite at a time,” he comforts, “It’s okay to feel nervous. It’s okay to overthink all of this and it’s okay to think about the cons. But what if this turns into something good?,”

“It was supposed to be something good the first time,” you hiccup. It’s just tearing you apart all over again to think about what could have been if he’d tried harder back then. You could have been a happy family instead of going through this.

“But then I guess I wouldn’t have met you guys,”

“Exactly. Everything happens for a reason,” Ms. Ernie interjects, “But if you get back with him, you better not forget us,”

Her words were jaw dropping, you know she was saying it as a joke but there was a twinge of truth in them. You all have gotten so close and it would crush her if you left and never looked back.

“I would never dream of it,”

You arrived at the bakery an hour early. Your thoughts wouldn’t slow down unless you did and your nerves were on fire the closer it got.

Maybe this was a bad idea. No… this definitely was a bad idea, right? This bakery brought so many memories. What kind of self torture is it to recommend meeting at the place you two had your first date?

It’s 12 now and he’s still not here. Your chest starts to ache and you don’t know if stress is the cause or if it’s because you knew this was too good to be true.

The reality of having a baby scared him off. He wasn’t ready to be a parent. He’s a big shot rock star, sitting here with the realization made it click that he’s not ready to give that up. He loved his job too much.

It was now 12:06 and there was still no sign of him. You weren’t going to text him, he shouldn’t need a reminder, especially because he never followed up today.

Exhaling mournfully, you gather your belongings, standing up to leave when you hear the bell to the front door and heavy, pattering feet-

“I’m here!!,” panting, hands on his knees as he gets to the table, “I’m here! Accident blocked off the highway- had to take a detour- sped here, no parking. Had to park 2 blocks away so I ran,” he slid into the booth, running a hand through his hair to calm down.

His face was cherry red, chest rising and falling quickly, he looked beat. You don’t say a word, you just slip him your water and he whispers his gratitude just as he chugs it, taking a napkin to wipe his mouth.

“I don’t have her here with me,” a monotonous tone leaves you.

He nods, taking a second to compose himself, trying to get his heart rate down so that he could have a calm conversation.

“I expected that,” leaning back in his seat, his eyes settle in on you and you start to feel self conscious, “You’re still as beautiful as the day I met you,”

“Noah,”

“No, I know I fucked up, Y/N. Trust me, no one knows more than me,” he leans his elbows on the table, dipping his head to catch your eyes that way you can see he was being honest, “I’ve kicked myself in the ass ever since then,”

“I can’t just let you back in, Noah,”

“And I don’t expect you to,” his hand comes to his lips, pressing on them as he thinks, “Everyday I thought about you and what I could have done better. I have therapy now, I learned better coping mechanisms. I know that’s something I should have done before I got that bad, but I didn’t just do it for you I did it for me because I wasn’t treating myself the nicest either,”

Maybe you should have taken a page out of his book and gotten help, but with being a single parent, you didn’t really have time for that.

“I loved you and I still do. You said that you probably weren’t the one for me but you’ve got it so wrong,”

His words reverberate off the walls of your ear canal. This is why all of this is confusing. If he was going through something mentally, why wasn’t he honest instead of shattering you to pieces?

“You’re just saying that because there’s a baby in the picture,” you accuse.

“Ask Matt… ask Nicholas even. This has been going on since the day you left. Finding out about our daughter only solidified it even more that I want a life with you,”

There’s no way this is genuine.

“Noah, I can’t just trust y-,”

“I know. You set the pace, I will respect that,”

There.

Those words started to chip away at the walls that you’d built up. They must not have been very thick, or very strong. Or maybe Noah just had that ability.

“Do you… can I see pictures of her at least?,” He asks as if he’s nervous almost, “I get it if you don’t want to I just-,”

A part of you wanted to tell him no. You didn’t want to reveal her to him just yet. He should work a little harder to prove that he’s legitimate in his stance. A few words shouldn’t grant him this opportunity. Nevertheless, your iced out attitude began melting at his expression, showing him a couple pictures wouldn’t hurt.

“No I can,” you open your phone to your camera roll, having a whole album of her. You’ve taken pictures of her since the day you had her. She’s a beautiful baby and you suppose he could see pictures of his own child, he’s missed out on enough, hasn’t he?

“This is when she was born. I did a water birth,” you show him a picture of you holding her, umbilical cord still attached, “My medical staff was great,”

Then you slid through the album showing him other pictures absolutely adoring your daughter and how cute she is

“This is the first time she smiled at me,” you look at him and you can see the sparkle in his eyes as he stares at the screen. There was a gentle smile on his lips, registering in his mind that this little human was a piece of him.

“She’s a sweet baby. Doesn’t really cry, she’s a squealer when she laughs,”

You play videos of her giggling and babbling and he is instantly in love, seeing this look on his face stirs a guilt inside of you that you never felt before. Maybe he should have known. Things could have been resolved by now had you not been selfish.

But there’s that nagging little voice telling you that you deserved to be selfish at least once in your life. It felt like your mind was in a blender.

“What’s her name?,” he looks to you hopefully. Were you ready to give him that information? It’s silly but the more he knows, the easier it will be for him to tear down the walls you built around yourself. It’ll make it easier for him to weasel his way into the picture again and you weren’t sure yet if you wanted to keep this a co-parenting arrangement or what.

“You don’t have to tell me right now,” he sees the hesitation on your face.

“Noelle,” you answer softly, “Her name is Noelle. I named her after you. But we also call her Sunshine, Plum or Noey, that one’s new,”

He broke out in the brightest smile you’d ever seen. You missed that smile, those beautiful lips framing his beautiful teeth. It was a smile that once brought you peace that is now bringing confusion.

“That’s…,” he gives a breathy chuckle, using his fingers to press into his eyes to keep the tears at bay, “That’s lovely,”

“Yeah, look at who her mom is,” you flip your hair as a joke and suddenly the tension isn’t as heavy. You’re supposed to be icy right now but the hopeless romantic within you is fighting the broken-hearted girl. One could only guess who is winning.

“Yeah, exactly,” Noah is seen getting nervous as the conversation progresses, he doesn’t know what questions are off limits, “So what are you up to these days? You’re not at the library anymore,”

“You looked for me at the library?,” you frown. You left that place a long time ago.

“I sat out on the bench everyday for at least three months before we had to leave for tour,”

Why couldn’t he give you that energy before? Where he used to meet you outside on the bench after you got off, sometimes with a bouquet of your favorite flowers, and sometimes with your favorite take out and you’d have little date nights on the library bench. Why did that flame have to die?

Was life about to present you with new, better tools? Improved ways to bring it back? To make it a raging forest fire that can’t be put out? A lover like you can only hope.

“I work from home. With finding out about Noelle I needed something relaxed, I’m still in the field of library science. I work as an analyst,”

His eyebrows perked up, just like the first time you two ever met when you told him what you did for a living. His interest now was a big 180 from last year.

“Y/N that’s.. that’s amazing,” he leans forward, prompting you to talk about it more. You go on and on about your job, about how cool it is to you and he sat there and listened. Not once did he break eye contact, he interacted with the conversation and it felt like things were how they used to be.

“How’s the Bad Omens life?,” you ask, finally getting winded from talking about yourself.

Noah plasters a look of pride on his face. You wanted so badly to keep up with them but that would do you a disservice while trying to mend what was hurting you.

“It’s great! We’re blowing up, so many more places we can tour now, merch sales are off the hook. We have a new one dropping soon and I uh… I designed one for Noelle, I’ll just need her size,”

His words caught you off guard. How does he have something planned for her already?

“Noah,” he’s got you swooning so easily. This was your Noah.

Snap out of it, Y/N!

If he’s serious, make him work for it.

“I think it’s pretty cute! Nicholas and I brainstormed on it together, it’s a Bad Omens x Noelle exclusive,”

The laughter that escaped you was a melody Noah thought he’d never hear again. When it dies down, his mouth begins to itch with a question he’s been wondering for a long time now.

“Are you,” he clears his throat, “Are you seeing anyone?,”

Your eyes flicker at his question, adjusting in your seat. Snatching the cup of water that was on the table, looking him in his eyes when you set it down after a sip.

“I told you,” tongue in cheek, playing with your fingers to ease your mind, “I wouldn’t be able to fall in love with anyone else. You were it for me,”

You search his eyes, wanting to cry for the sole basis that you never thought you’d see them again. They were the eyes you looked to whenever you were desolate, excited, or livid. No matter what you were feeling you could simply look at him and he was always there, until he wasn’t.

“I meant it when I said I loved you and you fucking sat there and told me that you didn’t love me like you used to,”

“I don’t know why I said that-,”

“It gutted me,” anguish covers your face like a mask, trying to keep yourself from crying while that night replays in your mind like a movie, “You just sat there like it didn’t even hurt you,”

“It hurt me like you wouldn’t believe,” he persisted

“So why didn’t you try?,” your lip hurts from biting it so hard, if you don’t stop it’ll bleed soon enough, “I gave you so much of me, even up until I couldn’t, when I had nothing left and you just… sat there!,”

“I was an idiot,” he admitted, “I fucked up when I decided to love my career more than anything. I messed up when I let it weigh me down,”

“I don’t care that you loved your career, Noah. I cared whether you showed up for us or not. You did until you became complacent,”

“I know I didn’t,” he answers, “I know I didn’t try hard enough. I know I gave up too quickly and those decisions have been haunting me every fucking day. I know I made this bed but I don’t wanna lie in it anymore,”

Taking a napkin from the table to wipe your eyes, you look around to make sure no one is looking at you. You thought in your mind that you’d be stronger but deep down, you expected the tears even though it’s embarrassing to be this emotional in public.

“Were you even honest with everyone or did you make me the villain?,”

“I told them it was mutual,” he confesses in shame.

Choking on your sobs, you shake your head and just look out the window, “So you made them think I just skipped town? That’s so fucked up, Noah. I would have never done that to you,”

“I will tell them the truth,” He panicked, “I don’t know why I lied to them I just… I knew they’d make the guilt worse and I figured the damage was done. I knew if they knew the truth they’d make me reach out but after that I didn’t have the right to reach out to fix it,”

There’s a silence that floats between you two after his words. The culpability of hurting you ate at him while the heartache gnawed away at you.

Both were parasites feeding on their hosts. Ruining their lives, doing their best to reduce them to nothing.

The parasitism ends here though.

“If-” you hiccup, gathering your things, “If you want even a sliver of a chance of being in Noelle’s life… of us getting back together, of us being a family… then you’ll start with being honest with our friends,”

Noah was so anxious that he just might throw up. He wanted you back and he didn’t want to miss out on having a family. He’s missed out on enough due to his own transgressions.

It took Noah a few days to muster up the strength to tell everyone. Every time he tried, he stumbled over his words and gave up. He had to do this though, it wasn’t fair to lie on your name to save his face.

Noah found himself with the guys, all gathered for game night. Snacks spread out all over the table, Folio was high, laughing while throwing a squid at Matt on the course, fucking up Matt’s winning streak. All of them were having a good time but Noah couldn’t focus on having fun, what he was about to confess wasn’t fun by any means. After a few rounds of Mario Kart, he paused the game and sighed, many groans of dismay being heard around the living room.

“What’s your problem?,” Jolly questioned, “I was about to whoop your ass on the Bone-Dry Dunes!,”

Noah felt his breathing pick up. It was now or never.

“It wasn’t mutual,” he blurts out, heart racing in his chest, he can hear his blood rushing in his ears.

“The fuck are you talking about?,” Folio burps obnoxiously loud and Bryan kicks him for being gross about it.

“Y/N and I, the break up wasn’t mutual,” he finds his switch controller a lot more interesting than the feeling of their eyes burning holes into his skin.

“Again, that begs the question… what the fuck are you talking about?,” Matt’s voice sounds strained, like he knows and is getting irritated with the suspense.

“Before she left. I told her that I didn’t love her like I used to. I got overwhelmed with the band. I was… I got deep in my head and started to self sabotage. I neglected her and I fucked up,”

A stillness dresses the air, Noah can feel the tension. He can’t bring himself to look up and see their expressions, he’s ashamed, he should be. How did he go so long with this secret? How did he go about his life knowing he broke the trust of one of the sweetest souls that walked this Earth?

“Woah…,” Davis muttered in a daze. His single word response was enough to have all hell breaking loose.

“I’m going to kick your fucking ass!,” Nicholas threw his controller at Noah, heat from his frustration reddening his cheeks, “Are you fucking kidding me, Noah? Is that why she ran off?,”

“That’s exactly why,” he nodded, cursing at himself. He feels so embarrassed to say it out loud. This is the first he’s ever admitted this outside of therapy. These are people that mattered, people whose opinions mattered the most.

Matt sat up like he’d seen a ghost, a light bulb moment happening for him, “That’s why she didn’t tell you about the baby,”

“BABY?!,” Folio screeched, “where the fuck was I?!,” Hands stuck out as if to gesture “wtf” Folio was always ten steps behind everyone else, even when he was in the room at the time of conversations.

“You were super high, you passed out,” Jolly waved at him to shut up, turning to Noah, “You’re our brother which means I have to be honest. That is a dick ass move, Noah. She was nothing but patient with you. She loved you, supported you even when it was hard because you were gone all the time. What the fuck?,”

“She was always there no matter what you needed,” Bryan added, while it took a while for you to open up to everyone, when you did, they became your little family, “She was always there for you, always there for us,”

“I miss when she packed our lunches for the studio,” Folio sighed like he was daydreaming. Once again finding it hard to read the room.

“Not the time!,” Nicholas gritted through his teeth

“I’m just saying!,” Folio defended, “She took care of all of us,”

Nicholas stuck out his hand to shut Folio up. If there was anyone up in arms about this, it was him. They all became your family and it hurt them when you left without a word. Now that he knows the full story, it makes him livid to know it was Noah who pushed you away. This could have been avoided.

“We were worried sick about her, Noah!,” Nicholas was more upset than any of them, and that’s saying a lot, the others were quite upset, “That girl who stuttered over her words the first time she met you still stuttered after years of being with you because she loved you, because you still made her nervous! After years of being with you she was still smitten and because of the stress.. you… y-you say that shit to her?,”

Noah really had no rebuttal. He knew Nicholas was right. There were no words for him to defend himself with. It almost brought him to tears, unsettled by his own behavior and now that other people know… now that the people closest to him know- it changes everything and forces him to reflect even more.

“Instead of talking to her, talking to us to keep you from doing something so stupid- instead of doing.. anything! You pull a coward ass move!,”

Nicholas viewed you as if you were a younger sibling, taking you under his wing, understanding your reclusive personality. He was the first person you connected to outside of Noah. He had a feeling when he only ever got vague answers when asking about the break up.

“It was time I was honest. I want to make this right with her. I want a chance to see my daughter and be a dad but it starts with honesty.” Noah mumbled, “I just want her back and I want a second chance whether I deserve it or not. I want to be there for Y/N like I always should have been. I want to be there for Noelle. I’m sorry it took so long to come clean.”

“Yeah?,” Matt’s jaw clenches as he ponders what has been said. He has his own thoughts regarding the matter but Nicholas seemed to cover them all for the most part, “I hope she makes you work like hell for it!,”

All Noah can really do is agree, they’re right. He was a coward, he did take the easy way out instead of facing his own problems and insecurities, and you should make him work like hell to get you back, to earn his place in Noelle’s life.

“Noelle,” Folio trails off, giggling to himself as he says the name, “Noeeeellee,”

“Dude, shut the fuck up!,” Jolly shouted with a bit of laughter layered underneath, Folio is such an airhead, it’s hard to have serious conversations like this around him. At least it eases some tension.

“It’s a cute name!!,”

“She’s an adorable baby,” Matt confirmed, “I only got a glimpse of her but she looks just like Noah,”

“Nah,” Noah shook his head, “She has my eyes but she has the curl of Y/N’s lashes. She has my lips but she has her mama’s chin. She has my dimples but Y/N’s cheeks. She’s both Y/N and me. She’s beautiful,”

Davis scoffs, raising his eyes, “Well you better get your shit together,”

“Yeah! I’m ready to be one kick ass uncle!,”

“Shut up, Folio!,”

You had taken it upon yourself to unblock everyone, figuring that if Noah told them the truth that they’d want to reach out, which they did.

It was scary at first, Noah had been a coward but you had your cowardly moments as well. Running off and not saying a word to people who cared about you- it wasn’t the nicest thing to do. Going through this with Noah had you realizing there are some things you would have done differently. This is a time of self reflection for everyone.

Although you’d been talking with them over the last week or so, you didn’t let the conversation stray too far from how you were doing. You weren’t ready to introduce them to Noelle or the idea of her just yet, you’re sure Noah has talked about her a bunch but you didn’t want to get too close to everyone again as of right now.

Ms. Ernie and Reid have been watching Noelle while you and Noah rebuild yourselves.

Dates that you made sure to let him know weren’t ‘actual dates’, walks at the park that turned into introspective discussions. It was all a work in progress and it made Ms. Ernie’s words hit even harder, there’s a lot to learn about love and that sometimes second chances are worth it.

You made him work like hell, but he was doing pretty well. He had different plans each day you guys hung out. He was attentive. He was gentle, he even told you about what he and his therapist talked about after each session.

In reality, you could tell he was doing better. You still had some reservations and there was still a long way to go but ultimately he was making a true effort. You could see the change he was making. Granted, it was a change that should have happened a long time ago but things happen the way they’re supposed to and when they’re supposed to.

That sentiment itself was a hard pill to swallow.

Today he took you on a picnic in the park, packed your favorite foods and drinks. He was really laying it on thick, others might find it cringe but it was making your heart flutter.

“I never did thank you, for telling them the truth,” popping a grape in your mouth, “I know it wasn’t easy,”

“It needed to happen. I knew better and I shouldn’t have lied to them but most importantly, I shouldn’t have lied on you. I was a coward and that’s not who I want to be to you… or Noey,”

A pleasant hum emitted from your chest, brows raising at the nickname that left his mouth.

“That one seemed to stick, huh?,”

“Noey is different… and it’s super close to Noah,”

“Noelle is already close to Noah!,” you bicker, both of you in high spirits while you go back and forth

“Noah has four letters and so does Noey,”

“Oh you’re such a kiss ass!,” you push him and he falls over dramatically.

“Help! Someone help!,” he shouted, feigning like he was injured

“Oh my God, Noah, stop! Someone is gonna think you’re serious!,” you reach over him to cover his mouth but he licks it and you squeal

“EEUUUGHHH!! You’re so gross!!,” you yank your hand back, he’s laughing like a hyena. Eyes wrinkling, hand in his chest and head thrown back.

“You used to do that to me all the time!” Justifying his action, you stick your tongue out at him while wiping your wet palm on his cheek

“Which means you can’t steal my move!,”

It was tense the first couple of meet ups and each one gets you closer to bringing Noelle around. These past couple of times had broken the ice and it started to feel like time hadn’t passed.

“Hey uhm, are you?- do you still live at the house?”

Noah settles down, feeling the energy shift to something a little more serious.

“Yeah. Didn’t have the guts to move. Why?,”

You twist grapeless vine in your hands, afraid to say the words now that you’re feeling comfortable to bring it up. It’s about 2 months of this and Noelle is a little over 6 months now.

“I’d like to bring Noelle by,”

Noah struggled for air, coughing up his drink and you can’t help but snicker at the liquid dripping off his chin.

“What?,” his eyes are as big as saucers

“Unless you’re not ready. I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have assumed,”

“No! No, I.. Y/N you have no idea how much I would love that,”

If you weren’t mistaken, you swear you see tears welling in his eyes

“I’d love to meet my daughter,”

This was a big step for you and an even bigger one for Noah. Both of you were scared beyond your wits.

“I’d like for it to just be us and then we can work up to getting the guys to meet her? And then you can meet Ms. Ernie, Reid and his husband, Morgan,”

You had to make sure to set some ground rules, Noah responded without any issues knowing that at the end of the day- you call the shots and he has to abide by them if he wants this to work. Yet despite feeling good about all of this, there’s still a smidge of uncertainty.

“What’s on your mind?,” even after all the time spent apart, reading you was like muscle memory.

“I still feel resentful,” you look to him to see his shoulders sagging, “I know you’re tired of it,”

“I don’t expect you to get over any of this anytime soon. In a way, you’re grieving and I can’t police how long you mourn. I can only help ease it,”

You didn’t really think of what you were going through as mourning but you guess you can see the similarities. What you two had was long gone and even in the face of starting over, albeit with the same person, you were still allowed to miss how things were and feel a bit out of sorts about what happened.

“It’s just,” you watch his hands as he picks at his palms, a nervous tick he’s always had. You’re once again feeling a sort of guilt making him feel like this but it’s a price he has to pay, right? You didn’t ask to be hurt to begin with.

“Resentment is so weird. I want to forgive you, Noah. So fucking bad I want to forgive you because I can’t keep doing this with you, I wish I could forget so I could just… hug you, kiss you, hold your hand like we used to,”

“You set the pace, Y/N. I told you no matter what, I respect it. I wish I could take it all back. God, I wish there was a way for me to go back so I didn’t fuck up and hurt you,”

“And my mind is struggling to comprehend why the fuck you would do that to me,” anger bleeds into your tone.

Noah is seen blubbering like a fish out of water as he tries to find his words. You can see the cogs turning in his mind, recalling the very night he ruined what you two had.

“There’s no explanation,” he declared, there was nothing good enough to excuse why he did what he did.

“No excuse, no reasoning that will ever be good enough for what I said to you. For how I treated you. It was unacceptable and there are no words to describe how apologetic I am. All I can say is, is that I’m so thankful you’re here, even giving me this chance,”

“You were all I could think about,” turning your body to him, he needed to know the turmoil you endured, “You hadn’t touched me in almost 3 months by the night I left. I was so consumed with the stress I didn’t realize I missed my period. I went to the doctor and that’s when I heard our little girl’s heartbeat,”

It didn’t get past him that you finally said our daughter and not just “my”. At this point, he has turned to look at you, listening closely, making sure you knew he was paying attention.

“I moved to the countryside and that’s where I met Ms. Ernie and Reid. They were my people while I was managing heartbreak. Keeping myself physically and mentally healthy so I could bring Noelle into this world. You… you should have been there Noah, you could’ve been there,”

“I know,” he blinks, tears falling down his cheeks just like yours were, “I missed out on so much because I couldn’t get my own shit together,”

“I took that pain and restructured it to fuel me so I could be the best parent I could be. I never thought I’d be sitting here in front of you. I never expected to see you again. Ever. But despite all the alarm bells, I am so fucking glad I am because I missed you, Noah. But I hate you so much at the same time,”

His face fashioned that of anguish at your last few words. It was hurting him but he didn’t look away from you, he didn’t hide his eyes, he’s now feeling what you felt that night and then some.

The anxiety. The fear, the fucking aching that burned from his gut all the way up into his throat. The pounding in his head, the heat that blanketed his skin. He can’t believe he did this to you. He can’t believe he sat across from you at the table that night, watching you fall apart and still said what he said.

“I don’t know how you expect us to rebuild anything,” your voice flows into his ears and he can feel his chest tightening, finding it harder to keep his breathing at a normal pace.

“Hell, I don’t even know how I expect us to rebuild anything but I’m going to try because that’s what you should have done!,”

“I-I know. Fuck, I.. I’m aware,” taking a deep breath to try to swallow his cries.

“I’m going to do what you couldn’t do,” a wild fire burns behind your eyes and he realizes this is a new you. The soft spoken Y/N is still there but this version of you takes no shit. You have a daughter now, you had to build tough skin

“I’m going to prove to you that fighting for what you want isn’t a lost fucking cause. I’m going to show you that no matter what is going on in your head, no matter what the voices are telling you- that I am here and I will be here until we are dust returned to the universe, Noah,”

You hated to see the way he dug his fingernails into his palms and you wanted nothing more than to grab his hands to massage the tension and cramps away.

“I know this is eating at you,” you whisper, “For the longest time I wanted it to. But not anymore,”

A great tremor overtook him, flexing his jaw to ease the ache from clenching it so hard. He had to break eye contact just this once to look up at the sky to will the tears away.

“Just take a page out of my book and take what you’re feeling to change and be better. No more apologies. Don’t be sorry, be better,”

“You sure you got everything?,” Reid packed your diaper bag into the front while you buckled Noelle into her carseat.

“Yeah I got my cooler for the bricks. My pump, extra clothes, extra wipes-,” you continue to list other items and at this point you’re not listing them to Reid, you’re listing them because you’re scared.

“You got this,” Ms. Ernie kisses your cheek and you look at her with worry, “Don’t look at me like that. You both are going to be okay. He’s been groveling for weeks on end, he’s been respectful, if you want to back out I’m sure he’d understand?,”

“No! No. I think I’m ready. She’s already 6 months old now, he deserves this much,” It’s crazy to think that you’ve been at this with Noah for about a few months now.

You’re wrapped in an embrace of them both, Reid whispering words of reassurance as he pulls away, helping you settle in the car.

“Let us know when you get there, okay?,” Ms. Ernie waves from her front step.

You assure her that you’ll do just that. A lively wave is sent their way as you pull out of the driveway to make it to a house that you once called home, a house that could have been a home for Noelle.

You didn’t need a GPS, you’d never forget the way there even if you tried. You could drive there blindfolded. The drive really wasn’t that long and a part of you wishes it was because when you pull up your stomach is full of butterflies.

He’s probably nervous too. Don’t stress about it. As if he was waiting by the door, he’s out on the porch, wiping his hands on a paper towel when you exit your vehicle.

“Need help with anything?,” a nervous smirk across his face, he looks like he’s going to throw up at any second.

“Wanna grab the diaper bag and cooler?,”

He didn’t give a verbal answer. He was already down the steps and to your car before you finished asking. You grabbed Noelle’s carrier and waited for him to get the other items. Seeing him with the lavender diaper bag on his shoulder stirred a feeling inside of you. He looked like a dad, he looked good. A yearn made itself present in your body, you just wanted to be a family.

“Follow me,”

You could tell he was excited, excited but tense. He didn’t want to fuck this up.

Once you’re settled in the house, he heads upstairs, mumbling that he’ll be right back. When taking your jacket off to hang it on the second hook on the back of the door, you realize the hook still has your name on it. He never took it off, this was your hook, everyone knew not to hang their things on it. And beside yours, you see one for Noelle. Noah, Y/N and Noelle. Your fingers brush against the names and a smile creeps on your face.

“I know she probably already has one but I figured it would be nice if she had one here. She’ll probably end up falling asleep depending on how long you stay,”

You turn around to see a lavender playpen with her name on the side.

“In a lot of the videos and pictures you showed me, she’s wearing lavender so..,”

“Noah,” you coo, stepping over to him, “That’s so sweet,”

You turn to Noelle in her carrier and unbuckle her, “If you wanna go wash your hands, you can hold her,”

“Yeah?,” his eyes lit up like a little kid on Christmas. He didn’t even wait for you to answer before he’s jogging into the kitchen to scrub his hands clean. About a good minute later he’s rushing back in but he seems hesitant.

“Don’t worry,” you assure him, “I show her pictures just like I show you pictures. She knows you. She won’t really be fussy”

You cradle her while handing her over to him.

“She likes to be held like this, just support her neck,”

Noah takes her from you softly, his large hands make her seem so small, even at six months. He stares at her in awe and sits down gently. Noelle babbles at him, waving her hands and smiling.

“Hiii, baby girl,”

You can hear the tears as he speaks to her and you take a seat beside him, not bothered by how close you were.

“I’m your papa,” he chokes on his words, caressing her cheek with the back of his finger, “You’re so beautiful just like your mama,”

There weren’t many words said as Noah soaked in this moment with you watching. His breath is silently hitching from his tears but he only cries harder when Noelle reaches out and touches his cheek, seemingly wiping a tear away.

Noah sits back on the sofa, setting his feet flat on the cushion so he could lay Noelle on his thighs so that she was sitting up.

“You’re so sweet,” he kisses her hand, causing her to squeal and giggle. He looks to you with wide eyes and a bright smile

“You were right!,”

“I told you!!,” you lean closer and watch the way Noelle is taking in the moment as well. She stares at Noah with a look of bewilderment, she’s never been around him physically yet relaxes into him like she’s known him since day one. She knows that’s her papa.

“Thank you,” he says simply, “I’m far from deserving but thank you so much, Y/N,”

“You deserve to be a dad, Noah. And she deserves one,”

“I won’t fuck this up,”

“You better not,” you poke his cheek, “Because she needs you… we both do,”

You let Noah record videos of him and her, letting him make up for lost time. He carefully danced around the living room with her while playing happy baby songs.

“I heard songs like this make them happy!,” he insisted. Each time she squealed he hugged her tighter, absolutely adoring the sound of his baby laughing with him. You couldn’t help but record some videos of your own, wanting to look back at this moment.

The foundation still needed some work but what is life without the effort? What’s love without effort? He said he wouldn’t screw it up this time and you’re holding him to his word.

“She’s down for bed,” Noah comes down the stairs, heading to the kitchen to return with two mugs

“She’s never fallen asleep that fast,” taking a mug from him, you smell your favorite tea in the way he used to make it.

“Does she wake you up throughout the night? I can be on baby duty so you can rest. U-unless you planned on going home tonight. I can drive you home, I don’t want you driving while you’re tired,” he offered.

“Can we stay?,” circling the rim of your cup, finding the heat from your tea comforting.

“You two always have a place here,” he sets the baby monitor on the table and takes a sip of his coffee. He was always a late night coffee drinker, at least it was decaf, he just liked the taste.

There was a comfortable lull that fell over you two and sitting on this very couch in this living room felt like home, like you belonged here. You made a home out of the cabin in the countryside but *this… this is where you felt like you were meant to be. Drinking your warm beverages on the couch while your child slept, simply enjoying each other’s company.

Noah randomly stands up and turns the tv on. He’s getting a game console, plugging it up and connecting the remotes. You’re watching in confusion while he does this all as if he’s on a mission.

Once he gets everything connected he pulls out a game case.

Michael Jackson: The Experience

“Nooaaaaaah,” you say suspiciously, “What are you doing?,” setting your cup on the side table, you watch with a questioning frown when he moves the coffee table

“Stand up,” insisting with a wide grin, he takes your hand despite your wariness

“What are we doing, Sebastian?”

“We’re putting all those nights practicing with the music videos to use. I scored these at a yard sale and figured we could dance to some good ole Michael like we used to,”

He hands you a Wii remote and the butterflies erupt again, spotting the same broken lampshade that he still hasn’t gotten rid of.

“You think you still got it?,” you tease, wrapping the band around your wrist.

He scoffs loudly, rolling his eyes, “You wish I lost it,”

“Put your money where your mouth is,”

He side eyes you with a little smirk, choosing the song he wanted to dance to. You expected Thriller, hell maybe even Ghosts. But he surprised you when he chose Do You Remember the Time

“If I win. I get to take you out on a romantic date,” he sighs triumphantly, he knows since you two started to rebuild something new, you didn’t want to get too romantic just yet.

“Okay,” you nod confidently, much to his surprise, “But if I win… you’re on baby duty for a night. That means getting up to feed her, change her diaper, cuddle-,”

“All I’m seeing is a win-win situation here,” turning back to the screen he hits play, “Bring your A game. I’ve been practicing for this very moment,”

He says it as if he’s joking but he was serious. This was a song you two spent many nights listening to, belting it at the top of your lungs during late night drives, to dancing in the kitchen to it after date night.

This little gesture may seem like just a night of dancing to a game to you but it was much more to him. So when the gold room appeared on the screen after picking your characters, he became timorous.

The beat begins and you feel a little silly following the movements at first. You hadn’t danced with Noah in ages but he probably feels just as goofy. You notice him missing a few beats and peak to see him adoring you, the way your nose crinkles when you smile, the way your eyes move across the screen, trying to focus.

“You’re not gonna win if you keep staring at me, Sebastian!,”

“Fuck!,”

~Do you remember when we fell in love? We were young and innocent then~

You trip over your feet as the dance begins to incorporate footwork, glaring at Noah when you hear him laughing at you.

~Do you remember, back in the fall? We’d be together all day long~

You bend your knees and shimmy your feet along the carpet while Noah stands tall and moves in the opposite direction over you. Feeling him this close, despite just playing a game, had your heart palpitating.

You never thought you’d have nights like this again. With anyone, let alone Noah.

You hear Noah singing to himself while he follows the dance moves to a T, seeing his score get higher than yours had you ready to wreck his streak.

“Do you remember the time when weeee first met, girl?” He sang obnoxiously while looking at you, purposely singing off key. You snicker at his expressions, missing a move but you can’t bring yourself to care.

Noah seemed so carefree and comfortable in this moment that it started to overshadow what had once hurt you, somewhat putting it on the back burner.

~Those sweet memories, will always be dear to me~

You and Noah are now face to face, chest to chest, you two seemed to forget the game. Both of you breathing heavily from laughing and going all out on the dance moves.

“You’re gonna lose,” you pipe up, turning around to focus back on the game. You knew that if you stood there any longer you’d have kissed him.

Noah seemed to snap out of his daze, immediately hopping back into where he was. You have to squat in front of him for the next move and it seems to last forever, feeling the burn like you’re in the gym.

“Oh my God!,” groaning in relief when you’re finally able to move from your position but the relief doesn’t last long when you’re made to go back, moving your arms up and feeling his hands touch yours.

It sounds dramatic but you swear you feel a little tingle when he touches you. Maybe it was static or maybe it was the fact you missed his touch. A sensation that you felt so safe in, so comfortable and loved.

You two slide away from each other, swinging your arms back and forth. You’re still following the screen but Noah decides to freestyle. Falling to his knees to sing the song to you, you’d worry about waking Noelle up but she was a deep sleeper.

“Do you remember girl?,” he holds his fists up, singing passionately, “On the phone! You and me!! Till dawn, 2 or 3. What about us, GIRL!!,”

You can’t help but throw your head back in entertainment at his dramatics. He was a performer for sure.

“Do ya, do ya, do ya, do ya- in the park, on the beach! You and me, in Spain! What about, what about- rrrap tap tap, rrrap tap tap!,”

His ad libs bounce off the walls and you’re losing it.

“You look insane!,” you say over his off-key singing.

He continues to sing despite your judgment, standing up and grabbing you by the shoulders, shaking you playfully

“Yeah! Yeah! Wooo!!,”

The game is now complete and you fall back on the couch to catch your breath.

“I freestyled and I STILL won!,” he claps and points at you, “Pick out your prettiest dress, doll face because we’re going on a DATE!,”

He stands in front of you, hands on his hips in victory and all you can do is cherish the view.

“Come here,” you stand before him, hearing your heart pound in your ears as he steps forward until his chest is level with your eyes, his famous chain glinting in the light on the room.

“What’s up?,” the confidence he just displayed was now replaced with diffidence.

“You better not hurt me again,” it was strange being this close to him, “If you hurt me you’ll not only lose me but Sunshine as well and I don’t want that for her. So if this is going to happen- you talk to me when your insecurities set in. You talk to me before you self sabotage. You talk to me no matter what so that you continue to show up for our little girl. Do you understand me?,”

Noah nods his head so quickly that you think it just might fall off and roll away.

“I understand. I won’t make the same mistake twice. I love you and I love our baby. I was a fool to fuck up the first time. I won’t be that again,”

“Good,” you nod, stepping away before patting his cheek with a sly grin.

“Because you’re on baby duty tonight,”

His jaw drops at your antics, he doesn’t mind really. He’s starting to feel like an actual father now.

“But I won!!,”

You wake up abruptly to Noelle screeching, a type of cry you’ve never heard before and you turn to see Noah’s spot empty. Scrambling to get out of bed, you rush downstairs to see him panicking, tears in his eyes and red in the face

“I’m sorry,” he muttered to her, frantically trying to calm her

“What happened??,” you kept your composure, not wanting to stress him out anymore than he already is. He hands you Noelle and he pulls at his roots, absolutely distraught and upset with himself.

“She was hungry and I… I heated up her milk for too long. Fuck, Y/N I’m sorry I didn’t mean to-,”

“Noah,” a soft hand on his chest, “It happens. She’s okay,”

“I made her cry,”

“She’s okay,” you reassure, “See,” you wipe her tears and she’s just left whimpering now.

You take his hand to sit him down at the table and give Noelle back to him despite his fear

“Don’t tense up. She’ll feel it and become fussy. Relax,”

He took heed to your words, relaxing so that Noelle could follow suit.

“I should have put a brick in the fridge to thaw,” you mention, “I usually do if I know I’ll be too tired to breastfeed but I was exhausted so it slipped my mind. A brick will usually thaw in the fridge overnight and when it’s time, just set it in a cup of warm water for a few minutes and you’ll be good to go,”

You take her bottle and run it under some cool water, testing it on your wrist, deeming it cool yet warm enough for her to drink. You sit beside Noah and hand him the bottle.

“Here, you’re all set. 45 degree angle while she drinks,” you instruct. He follows your words and Noelle hums around the bottle, cuddling into Noah’s shirtless chest, “She likes skin to skin contact while feeding. Now she’ll really know you’re her papa,”

You realize this is the same table he broke your heart at, tracing the pattern of the mahogany wood. You wouldn’t let that night haunt you anymore. Here’s to new memories. Now, this table will be remembered as the table that he fed your daughter for the first time, a learning experience for him.

“I’m so sorry for hurting you, honey,” he whispered to her, kissing her forehead while her eyes fluttered sleepily, “I’m still learning but it won’t happen again,”

You know his words were directed to you as well, finding solace in the reassurance.

Once you teach him to burp her, the three of you make your way upstairs and back to bed.

“You can put her in the crib,” climbing into the bed that was once yours to claim. He took the time to build her crib and didn’t even wanna put her in it.

“I will once I’m ready to sleep, I just want to spend time with her is all,”

Despite the infant sleeping, he wasn’t ready to put her down. His hair was thrown all over his head, his eyes here heavy but he was willing to fight sleep just to hold her in his arms for as long as he could.

“I missed out on enough, I just wanna hold her,”

“Okay,” you nod, sitting up and scooting closer to rest your head on his shoulder, “Sing, you are my sunshine, to her. It’s her favorite song and I think she would like to hear it from you,”

“You are my sunshine, my only sunshine,” he begins with ease, “You make me happy, when skies are grey. You’ll never know, dear, how much I love you. Please don’t take my sunshine away,”

“You are my star shine,” you add in, “My only star shine,”

You reach over to hold her small hand, resting your hand on his chest,

“I love you so much, each night and day,”

Noah leans his head on yours, finding comfort in the words you sing.

“You’ll never know, dear, how much I love you. Please don’t take my star shine away,”

You look up to Noah, refusing to move your head off his shoulder so he rears back to look at you, your face being illuminated by the little nightlight you had plugged in for Noelle.

“You are my love shine, my only love shine,” he sings lowly, surprising you that he even knows the third verse of the nursery rhyme, “I miss you so much when you’re away,”

The smile that appeared on your face was one he’ll never forget, especially when you begin to harmonize with him quietly, watching the way Noelle snuggles into his chest as if she can’t get close enough to him.

“You’ll never know, dear, how much I love you,” you two sing together, curling into him even more when he plants a kiss on the crown of your head.

“Please don’t take my love shine awaaaay,”

Days had passed since that night. You and Noah alternate every couple of nights of whose place to stay at. He finally got the pleasure of meeting Ms. Ernie and Reid officially, offering his gratitude to the people who kept you and Noelle safe when he fell short. Despite his own shortcomings, they welcomed him with open arms.

Reid currently had Noelle in the living room, both of them watching some cartoon movie while Ms. Ernie helped you with your hair, preparing for the night Noah had planned for you.

“Do I look like I’m trying too hard?,” you turn to her, concern painted all over your face.

“You look like a beautiful youngin who is about to steal the heart of the love of their life,”

“You flatter me,”

“Well it’s true,” she boops your nose and tucks your hair behind your ear, “You’re going to have fun!,”

Noah wouldn’t exactly tell you what he had planned. He just said to dress in something comfortable and cute, so you stepped out of your comfort zone, going with a light floral dress, styling your hair to your comfort and a light face of makeup.

When you heard the doorbell to your cabin go off, your stomach sank.

“Oh goodness!!,” turning to the smiling woman above you, “He’s here!! He’s 10 minutes early!,”

A light rumble comes from her, shaking her head and standing you up, “You would have still freaked out even if he showed up on time. Head up there!,”

You didn’t have time to respond due to the doorbell ringing again. A nervous Noah stood on the other side, worried that maybe you changed your mind. When the door swung open, both of you were speechless.

You stood there, radiant as ever with Noelle in your arms. A nervous grin framed your teeth and Noah watched as you rubbed Noelle’s back, not for her comfort but for yours. You were antsy. Just as beautiful as the first day he met you when he knocked your bus token out of your hand.

Noah stood there in a plain, white shirt tucked into a pair of sleek black joggers. You noticed he cut his hair, cutting the sides short and keeping the top longer. He recreated the outfit he wore when you two first bumped into each other.

“Hi,” your throat tight around the simple word.

“H-hi,” he had a hand behind his back and stuck the other out, “Nice to meet you, my name is Noah,”

You frown at his words until you realize this is a reintroduction.

“Hi, Noah. My name is Y/N and it’s wonderful to meet you,”

Both of you are similar to giddy teenagers falling in love for the first time. He handed you a bouquet of your favorite flowers and you were quick to gasp. You loved flowers, you loved it even more when he gifted them to you.

Inviting him in, Noelle was quick to reach for him and he spun her around while you retrieved the glass milk bottle you received from Ms. Ernie to use as a vase.

“Looking gooooood!,” the elderly woman entered the room and pinched Noah’s cheek lightly.

“I can clean up nice!,”

Reid entered the space and gave his compliments to the both of you and caught sight of the flowers, nudging Noah.

“Nice choice,” he whispered.

Once both of you give Noelle a ton of kisses, Noah takes your hand and guides you out to the car so you all could get your evening started.

“You gonna tell me what you have planned yet?,” hounding him as he begins to drive.

“Dinner,” he answers, a smirk on his face to tell you that it wasn’t just dinner.

“Why so cryptic?” you poke him

“Relaaaaax,” he reaches over to grab your hand and squeeze. The two of you missing this simple gesture, feeling safe like this, like all will be okay, it will- but you’ll never get tired of the warm feeling of security.

Noah took you out to your favorite restaurant, a nice night of expensive wine and taking bites of the other’s food. A bunch of blushing, a bunch of butterflies, laughter and unspoken I love yous.

Now you find yourself with your hand in his, strolling downtown, him insisting that the night isn’t over. When you stop walking, you peer up to him and see an uncertain smirk on his face. Looking up to the sign on the building, you see what he had planned.

“Kiln of Sunshine,” you read aloud, “Couple’s pottery?”

All he does is laugh at your surprise and leads you inside. There aren’t many couples but it’s a nice intimate place. Dim lights strung up on the ceiling, custom printed aprons with your names on it, which he helps you put on and tie.

When you’re directed to your designated spots, he sits behind you while you sit in front of the wheel.

“Welcome to the Kiln of Sunshine! We are a couple of potters who met through our love of art,” a young woman stands in front of the class, it’s hard to listen when Noah is so close like this. He still makes you so damn nervous.

“We created this abode to help other couples not only find a new hobby, but also grow together by means of communication and teamwork through making art!” The woman’s husband added with excitement.

You look over your shoulder to see Noah already looking at you

“You look so beautiful,” he whispers. You have to tuck your chin into your shoulder to hide the fact your face was burning up at his compliment.

The couple teaching gives you all step by step instructions to begin and then it’s just you and Noah left to your own devices. They gave you the guidelines but now it’s up to you and Noah to decide what you two create.

Much like a relationship.

“Here, let’s try this,” Noah’s large, clay covered hands form to yours, his chin resting on your shoulder, “Pinch here,”

“Maybe we should coil instead,” suggesting lightly.

“Okay, yeah,” he nods, taking in your point of view, “I think it’ll turn out better that way,”

Noah hands you the wet sponge, watching the way your tongue sticks out from your lips as you concentrate.

“I brought us here because I came to a lot of conclusions during our time apart,” his body frames yours like a puzzle piece, after a while, instead of you taking the lead, you let his hands guide yours now.

“Yeah?,”

“Pottery teaches us a lot about accepting faults- appreciating the imperfections and flaws that can turn into something beautiful,” he moves your hands to pinch the clay in certain spots and watch your piece come to life.

“Furthermore, we have patience and persistence- pottery, like relationships, demands patience at every turn. To keep going in the face of difficulties, even if you don’t see the results right away. It takes time to mold something beautiful”

Noah kept going and you’d be lying if his words weren’t tear jerking. While you two were rekindling, you had some introspective moments of your own. Realizing that there are some things you could have done differently yourself. Especially since finding out about the mental battles he was facing during the last few months of your relationship, which caused him to break it off.

You were so caught up in your own mind that you didn’t realize Noah’s actions were due to the fact that it wasn’t Noah- he pulled back from you because he was trying to figure his own labyrinthine mind out, that’s why he kept asking for time, he just felt ashamed to say it out loud.

Both of you got time, even if it wasn’t in the most ideal form.

“I’m still learning and growing and I know I have a long way to go for you to fully trust me because of those faults, but I’m patient and I’m not going anywhere,”

You felt him kiss your shoulder, causing goosebumps to flourish on your skin.

“Well… maybe we won’t need the water bowl to wet the sponge anymore since you’ve got me crying over here!,”

The laughter that erupts from the two of you is boisterous, providing comedic relief in the midst of him expressing his emotions.

“You two are doing great over here!!,” the instructor complimented the piece the two of you were crafting.

You felt the swell of pride in your chest because whether she was talking about your pottery piece or not, you and Noah are doing great.

The night progressed beautifully. You had to leave your piece at the place overnight so it could get fired and glazed before you took it home to decorate yourselves. So, Noah took you on a stroll, your hand in his, taking in the view of the pretty lights set up downtown. Finding yourselves in front of the big fountain in the center, you stick your hand out to him

“C’mon, big money. Hand over a quarter,”

He quickly digs in his pocket and hands you a shiny coin in which you hold up to your mouth, whispering to it before throwing it in the fountain. The light plopping sound it made was satisfying to you.

“What did you wish for?,”

You notice him taking his shoes and socks off, rolling up his pant legs and you feel suspicion rising in your belly.

“That would beat the purpose of a wish!,”

“Take your shoes off,”

“No! I know what you’re about to do and I spent too much time on my hair and make up!,”

Noah sat you down on the edge of the fountain, removing your shoes for you

“You know that you don’t need your makeup and hair all done up for me to find you absolutely breathtaking… right?,”

He gives you no time to reply before he’s standing you up and bringing you into the fountain, twirling you around under the raining streams.

“Noah we’re gonna get in trouble!!,” squealing in his arms, trying to get out of them. He sets you down but before you can scold him, his wet hands are framing your face to pull you in for the long awaited kiss that he’s been wanting to give you since the day you left.

You felt like you were in a movie. The hopeless romantic that lived within you was thriving. You were stuck in your spot for a second, realizing that since starting over, this is your first kiss and he made it so damn romantic. Pulling him in by his shirt, your lips follow his, flowing with the same desire and unspoken words.

I’m sorry.

I forgive you.

We’re going to be okay.

I don’t hate you

I love you.

I always will.

Damning your own instinctive need to breathe, you pull away from him, pressing your fingertips to your lips, still completely shocked by it all.

“I’m sorry I just… I couldn’t fight it anymore,” he looked so ethereal, wet hair sticking to his face, droplets on his cheeks and big, brown eyes staring back at you with blown pupils.

“Until the day we are returned to dust to the universe, I will love you and cherish you. I will be what I should have always been. And even then… even after we are just dust- I will find you in another timeline and continue to be that and more”

Life is a beautiful thing now. It was no longer grey and neither of you felt like you were just getting by, you were finally living.

You didn’t want to give up your cabin, so despite all the memories the house back in the city had, you two decided to make more memories out here.

Your house was full now, filled with friends you missed dearly, all of them soaking up time with Noelle, getting used to being uncles.

“Nuh uh!,” Noah shouts, “Folio, wash your hands before holding her,”

“What the hell! I just did!!,” he defended, arms halfway out, ready to reach for his niece.

“Not long enough! Sing happy birthday twice if you have to- and don’t swear around my daughter!,”

Noah fit the dad role real well. He was proud to be the father of your child. He doted on Noelle, always took pictures with her, sang to her (a lot better than you ever did) and though Noah had a love for the city, he loved being out here with you two, taking her on daily walks around the countryside while you tended to the chickens and garden.

You thought he’d put up a bigger fight due to his career but- things were simple out here and being out here made him feel normal and domestic. This is what life was always supposed to feel like and it’s what the two of you had always envisioned.

“Everyone get ready, dinner’s almost finished!,” Ms. Ernie hollered. She loved the guys, it didn't take long for her to warm up to people and just like she took you under her wing, she did the same for them. She even listens to their music now, she says Hedonist is her favorite.

Folio doesn’t care to make his plate now that he has Noelle, making her squeal and laugh at his silly faces.

Matt bumps you as he moves past you to get a drink out of your fridge, “I told you he wouldn’t take her from you,”

“You only get one ‘I told you so’ in our friendship and you used it well. Thanks, Matty,”

During the time you and Noah were reconnecting, you had to rebuild your friendships with the guys as well. You and Matt now have your farmer’s market dates back. You, Jolly, Davis and Folio have your bowling on Thursday nights while you and Bryan go to the movies every Tuesday because they’re half off. And Nicholas- the one who truly is like a brother, both of you had your chess game that you abandoned but he kept the board set in hopes that one day you’ll come back.

He taught you how to play ages ago and when you finally got the hang of it, you two matched all the time, some matches going for days, this match being the longest ever due to a hiatus.

He had the board with him, setting it up on the counter, both of you moving your pieces throughout the day.

“I know how to beat you,” staring at the board, he comes to stand beside you.

“Yeah?,” grinning as if he wasn’t about to lose.

“You have nowhere to go, Nicky,” you pick your Queen up, moving her to h5, threatening his f7. You watch him frown at your movements and you have to hide the smirk on your face. If you win, you’ll no longer be tied.

You move your Queen to take his f7 and you check his king.

“No!,”

“Checkmate!,” clapping in victory, you jump up and down, “I still got it!!,”

“You got lucky!,”

Despite him losing, he was always a good sport. He did teach you after all.

After dinner, Reid provided dessert, topped with a delicious honey glaze he made from his bees. Matt started a fire pit outside which left only you, Noah and Noelle in the kitchen as you two arranged to put her down for bed. He had her wrapped up against his chest while you prepared his coffee and your tea.

Noelle cooed against his chest, eyes fluttering and trying to fight sleep.

“I love you,” he searched your face, feeling blessed that he can say the words to you again. Your eyes sparkle in the warm light of the kitchen, feeling blessed to hear those words once again. You’ll never get tired of hearing it, especially because it’s all different now. It’s healthier, happier.

“And I love you,” of course you do- it was muscle memory.

After lightly clinking your mugs together, your eyes catch sight of the fruit bowl you and Noah made in your pottery class. Your painted hand print on one side, his on the other and Noelle’s in the middle with 4 simple words written across it.

You are my Sunshine.

Stepping closer to him, his arm wrapped around your shoulder, the two of you stood in silence just enjoying each other’s presence. Finding joy in the laughter of your loved ones outside.

All is well and always will be. Ms. Ernie was right. Sometimes second chances are worth it.

“Thanks for adding to the sunshine instead of taking it away,”

Noah could hear the relief in your voice that things turned out for the better. He’d never give this up. Home isn’t a place, home is this moment right here and every moment after.

“Until we are dust returned to the universe.”

First and foremost i wanted to thank everyone for their patience while i worked on this!! this story means so much to me and i am grateful for the love i received on part one and hope you all enjoy this part even if it’s a little long!!!

Please be sure to reblog and comment as it helps us writers out a lot!!!

much love!

~Berry 🫐

tags: @dravenskye @babs-96 @tech-depression-inventory @magnificentstrawberryomen @mrscevans @tinyfairies @mxddymay @themorticians-world @rainy-darling @lma1986 @darknightstarryeyes @thisbicc @lilhobgobbler @lovethe-void @cind6547 @flowery-mess @widowsofchaos @abiomens @amelia-acero @collapsedglasshouses @poppy-in-the-woods @rostoken @dkxxm @collisionofyourkissmakesitsohard @fadingintothegrey @blairboo

#noah sebastian one shot #noah sebastian fic #noah sebastian x reader #noah sebastian fanfiction #noah sebastian imagine #noah sebastian angst #bad omens one shot #bad omens angst #bad omens fanfiction #bad omens fic #bad omens imagine

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shinysobi · 2 months ago

Text

pretty u

summary: when joshua, your best friend gets engaged, you can't help but feel as though you're missing out on something important. jihoon, your other best friend, kindly offers to set you up with one of his many friends. chaos ensues, seungkwan is an observer who knows everything, and unfortunately, mingyu is a hapless victim.

pairing: woozi x fem!reader

genre: crack, fluff, angst

word count: 10k~ish

warnings: alcohol consumption, general warnings apply

a/n: this time we're bringing the trauma folks, im not sorry at all hehe >.< also this is dedicated to vaish and gigi, truly my biggest cheerleaders.

a/n 2: reblogs and comments are much appreciated! please tell me if you're liking this lmao

chapter 1 | chapter 2 | chapter 3

Chapter 2

Someone yells as soon as I enter the restaurant, and I almost turn back on my heels and walk out of there. The culture desk is huddled around a large table, and judging from the empty bottles, half of them were well on their way to drunkenness already. I can spot Seungkwan at the end of the table, being the newbie, he must have been plied with alcohol by the rest of us. His entire face is slowly going red, and if I hadn’t been consumed with hatred over Jihoon being a weirdo, I would feel sorry for him too. But, he’s Jihoon’s friend, and any friend of Jihoon is an enemy of mine.

“The Associate Editor is here!” someone shouts, and I look on, horrified, as my editor, the boring, staid old man who wears the same style of suits five days in a row, waves and giggles at me, holding up a new glass of soju, “my, I thought you would never arrive. We’re all having a party without you!”

“Yes, I can see that,” I accept the offered glass, “sorry, the interview went on for much longer than I expected it to be, and the bus was stuck in traffic for a long time.”

“Just say that you didn’t want to come hang out with us,” the Assistant Editor, a woman in her forties, giggles, “we missed you so much!”

My breath is almost knocked out by the way she hugs me right after that statement, “no, I can assure you I wanted to come here. If not nothing, then just to congratulate the maknae on joining.”

“Huh?” the Editor blinks around, “oh yes, there’s Seungkwan!”

“Haven’t you given him too much to drink?” I ask, standing up to pour Seungkwan another glass, “Seungkwan, have fun in this department, okay?”

Seungkwan, drunk as he is, only mumbles something unintelligible, by way of a reply. Still, he accepts the drink and knocks it back, while the person next to him, Haewon, smiles drunkenly at me, “sunbae,” she says, “won’t you give me a drink?”

Haewon, unfortunately, has the habit of getting cutesy when she drinks, so I wordlessly extend the bottle to pour her another one. The Editor and the Assistant Editor are boisterous, singing a drinking song off-key.

“Can I get another bottle of soju here?” I call, and the surly-looking part-timer slams a bottle. He doesn’t even offer me a smile. Jerk.

“Drink up, drink up,” the Editor smiles happily, addressing the whole table, “did you know, she’s the only one who Mr Hong does an interview with?”

“Really?” Seungkwan perks up at that, “isn’t he famous for not giving any interviews?”

“He is, but she’s the only person who can get an interview with him.”

“Whoa, sunbae,” Seungkwan is all starry-eyed, which means he is definitely drunk, “I’ve always heard praises about you from the hyungs, but it’s all true! You’re legit.” And to drive home the point of my legitimacy, he hugs me, planting a huge, wet kiss on my cheek, “you’re my inspiration, sunbae.”

“Seungkwan, maybe the inspiration is a bit too much,” I reply, pouring myself a tall glass, “but I’ll accept it either way.”

“Wait, wait,” the Editor is suddenly interested in whatever Seungkwan is saying, “who are these people you’re talking about?”

“Oh, the hyungs?” Seungkwan is talkative even when he is not drunk, but alcohol has made him into one of the most loose-lipped people I’ve ever seen, “Jihoon-hyung, and Joshua-hyung. They’ve been friends since university, you know. They still hang out together.”

“Really?” Haewon looks interested, “are any of them the person you had lunch with this afternoon?”

“You had lunch with Joshua-hyung?”

“No, it was Jihoon,” I correct Seungkwan even though I don’t really need to, but it’s the alcohol, “Joshua doesn’t like the same things that I do.”

“Oh, is he your boyfriend?” Haewon giggles, and I sputter, “was that why he walked you to the company door?”

“No, Haewon, he isn’t my boyfriend, please drink some water.”

“No, no, I’m interested,” it’s a testament to how jobless we all are at the culture desk, because the Editor suddenly turns to Seungkwan with barely hidden glee in his eyes, “Jihoon, that’s his name?”

“Yes,” Seungkwan, who normally is the most tight-lipped out of all my acquaintances, is surprisingly talkative when drunk, “yes, Lee Jihoon. He’s the closest with her, out of all his friends. They even hang out all the time.”

I pour out some soju in a shot glass, then rethink it, drinking the rest of the bottle in one go. If this dinner goes on for any moment longer, they’re going to start speculating on my dating life. And based on what I’ve seen from the diner owner this afternoon, they’re going to assume that Jihoon and I are dating.

“Ah, so he’s the man you used to skip company dinners for,” the Associate editor says, “bring him around sometime! We’d all have fun!”

I’d rather stick my head in a vat of boiling acid than bring Jihoon to any place even remotely associated with my work, so I just nod and smile. Seungkwan, however, perks right up at this, saying, “do you want to see a picture of them?”

Enthusiastic cheers follow, from everyone at the table. I drink another half-bottle of soju.

“There you go!” does Seungkwan have all these pictures at the ready, or was he planning to make my life hell before participating in this dinner? Because the photo he’s pulled up is from the final year of university, when Jihoon and I were working on both our senior theses, and we’d spend a fair amount of that time huddled in between the stacks at the library, or over at each other’s apartments. The picture Seungkwan is brandishing around is from one of those days, and I would die before I admitted it to Jihoon, but I had a printout of it stuck on my wall. It’s a simple picture: Jihoon and I have our arms around each other, wide smiles on our faces, something that comes only after successfully finishing a gruelling paper, or from consuming too many snacks. Our cheeks are touching, and my free hand is thrown up in a victory sign.

“Ah, so you guys dated,” Haewon nods sagely, “that’s not a picture one takes with their friend.”

“No, this is—this is a very friendly picture,” I sputter, drinking more alcohol in an effort to dull the embarrassment that’s running through my veins, “we’re just friends.”

“I’ve seen couples who have less skinship than this.” The Assistant Editor says, “you both look very cute, I must say.”

On and on it goes, until both my ears have gone red, and still they go on, fuelled entirely by Seungkwan, who’s apparently a savant when it comes to remembering embarrassing incidents from university. Seungkwan. I’m gripped by a desire to commit murder, and it plainly shows on my face, but he goes on, unfazed by the looks I’m giving him, “they used to be practically inseparable during their university days! You could never see her without Jihoon-hyung, and if she wasn’t around, he would be irritable and angry all the time.”

“He’s still irritable and angry,” I murmur, senses highly dulled by the copious amounts of alcohol I’ve consumed. What’s my limit? One? Two bottles? I’ve drunk far more than that. My vision is swimming in front of my eyes, and everyone else’s words are coming slowly to my ears, as though filtered through sand. Is this how it feels to hear underwater? “he’s never—he’s never once been nice to me, you know that?”

“Really? He always takes care of you, though.” Seungkwan isn’t one to back down from an argument when its beginning, “I’ve always seen hyung take such good care of you.”

“Well, he doesn’t anymore!” I say, waving for another bottle, “He’s a little shit nowadays, have I told you that?”

“No, you haven’t. you don’t talk a lot.”

“That’s true.”

The third bottle (or is this the fourth) goes down far easier than the rest, and before I know, I’m stumbling out of the restaurant with the others, bundling the Editor into his car and the Assistant Editor into a taxi.

“Do all of you have money to go back home?” I ask the rest of them, but they’re already making plans to go on to the next spot. My watch says its midnight, but for people younger than me, it must be easier.

“Sunbae, do you want me to call you a taxi?” Seungkwan asks, but he’s tottering on unsteady feet, and I can see the longing looks he’s throwing the group of people who’ve started to move on without him.

“Go on, Seungkwan, I’m going to be fine by myself.” I wave a hand across my face, “it takes me ten minutes to walk back home, I’ll manage.”

“You sure?”

“Positive.”

Seungkwan doesn’t need much convincing, and trots off to his colleagues. I sit there on the sidewalk for a long while, as the night sky swirls around me. I want to ask myself, why do I have to put myself through these situations? Why couldn’t I, like every other person, be normal about finding love and romance and relationships, and have a perfectly average life?

I dial the first number that comes on my screen, and a few moments later, Jihoon’s scratchy voice comes through, “you’re calling awfully late.”

“I’m bored.” I say, settling back onto the sidewalk, “Seungkwan and the others went for round two of the company dinner.”

“And they left you all alone?” Jihoon sounds irritated, “shit, he should have at least called you a cab.”

“I’m old enough to get home on my own, Lee Jihoon, and besides, I’m also sensible enough to not come in between the affairs of my juniors.”

“You’re slurring, I bet you can’t even stand up properly.” Jihoon says, “hey, give me your address.”

“I can stand up!” I protest, “why would I give you, my address?”

“So that, I can go pick you up.”

“Why are you suddenly doing this? It isn’t as though I’ve never gone home drunk from a dinner before.”

“Yes, but you’ve also never called me before, so, I’m going to pick you up.” I can hear other people talking in the background, “hey, wait there, I got the location from Seungkwan. I’m coming to pick you up.”

“Seriously, Jihoon, you don’t have to.”

“Well, thank goodness I don’t listen to you very much.”

And he’s gone. All at once, I feel terribly alone. Why didn’t I go along with Seungkwan and the others? Why did I have to be a good senior and leave the youngsters alone? All that I can do now, is to sit alone, and contemplate.

When I was in school, and studying for the college entrance exams, all I could think about was how to get into university. When I got into university, all I could think about was how to get a job. Now that I have a job, all I can think about are the banal, everyday details of my everyday life, what to eat for dinner, what clothes to wear, whether I’m getting a promotion or not.

“You look like a drowned cat.”

I look up. Jihoon is dressed for the studio, wearing a comfortable jacket over comfortable pants and plush slippers on his feet. Its evident he’s rushed over here from the company. I want to feel sorry for him, but all I can think about is how much he looks like a steamed dumpling, all cozied up in his studio clothes.

“I look nice.” I say feebly, looking at my clothes. I’m wearing a shirt and trousers, and a coat that I haphazardly threw on before leaving my home; he’s right.

“Get up.”

“No.”

Jihoon doesn’t waste any time, he leans down, forcing me to stand. “The car is right there,” he says, hauling me towards the direction of his new car, “if you vomit, I’m seriously going to kill you.”

“I don’t vomit after I drink. That’s on you.”

“That was once,” he sighs, as though he’s some long-suffering saint, “please wear your seatbelt. I’m not about to get a ticket because of you.”

“Hey, Jihoon?”

“Hmm?”

“Can we have a sleepover?”

He stares at me, halfway through fixing my seatbelt. Its funny, how pretty his features are. If I could extend my fingers just a little bit, I could touch him, feel exactly how many lashes he has, see if his skin is as smooth as it seems to be. My hands remain firmly at my sides. “What do you mean a sleepover?”

“I don’t want to bring you to my house,” I reply, settling into the seat, “it’s a mess.”

“Because you can’t keep a house.”

“No, I’m moving.”

“I thought you had time?”

“I’m being evicted, Jihoon,” I yawn, “Kim’s hiked the rent again.”

Jihoon sighs, before getting into the driver’s seat, “I’ll get you some of my clothes.”

“Hey, Jihoon,” I ask, as soon as the car begins to run, “why are we stuck?”

“Stuck?” he seems confused, “I thought I was the one who was stuck, not you.”

“I’m stuck too, just that I haven’t told anyone.”

“You’re not making any sense, you know.”

I sigh, “I’ve been running my entire life, you know. When I was younger, I’d constantly worry about what kind of university I would get into, what course I’d get to study. I was so busy with my studies that I didn’t notice that my school life was slipping past me.”

“When I came to university in Seoul, I thought I had achieved something, but everything I did, my sister had already done it before me; for my parents, I was just following the footsteps of my sister. In university, I thought so much about my grades and how to get a good job right out of university, that I forgot to enjoy the fleeting moments of my youth. Even now, even when I’m worrying about how to get ahead in life and how to get ahead in my workplace, I don’t think I’ve ever stopped for a single moment to think, am I doing this correctly? Is this how I want to live my life?”

“Did you waste your youth? Is that how you think about it?” Jihoon asks, “really, truly, is that how you think you spent your university life?”

“I worried about grades, I worried about how to pay my university fees, I worried about so many things. I just didn’t tell anyone.”

“Is that why you didn’t join the others?”

“I’m jealous.” I admit. Its easier now, when one has said the words that have been bothering them, “I’m jealous of their youth. No, I’m jealous of how carefree they are.”

“Everything I do, I think twice, thrice, and four times, before I settle on it, and even then, something always goes wrong.”

“What if you could do it all over again?” Jihoon asks, and I’ve never seen him this serious outside of the studio, “what if you could do it all over again. High school, university, meeting us. Would you have done it differently?”

I shake my head, “Its not that I’ve never thought about it, everyone has. But honestly? If I could do it all over again, I’d do the same. Perhaps a little more honestly, but I’d still be the same person I was in university. I’d still like to meet you and Joshua and the others, even if I can’t get as close to them as they want me to.”

“They’re very respectful of the face that you’re an introvert, just by the way.” Jihoon parks his car, “I think Jeonghan-hyung would commit some serious crimes if you asked him to.”

“He’d commit them either way. He likes the chaos.”

Jihoon’s apartment building is far larger than mine, and he holds my hand to stabilise me as we walk to the elevator. I’ve been here before, it’s a building populated entirely by old people who like to take walks at six in the morning, and young married couples who like to stroll with their children at night. His hand is warm, perhaps from the car.

The elevator is empty as we walk in, and Jihoon punches in the number for his floor, “do you need anything? A hangover cure?”

“I’m fine.”

His apartment is much bigger than mine, with a separate room for his recording equipment, and I’ve been here many times before. I know the couch has a spot where the spring digs into your skin, I know the perfect spot from where the television hurts less on your eyes, I’ve spent hours in here divvying up the banchan his mother had sent from Busan, arguing with him about what movies we would watch. Everything is the same, and at the same time, different.

Jihoon is standing in the middle of the kitchen, looking in his refrigerator for something to eat. I make myself comfortable in one of the chairs, looking at him work. Jihoon looks strange in this light, a change that I can’t put my finger on. He’s dressed in a white shirt, and from here, he looks lonely. Lonely like someone who has lost all sense of their being, like someone who’s barely hanging on. Do I look the same, from behind? I want to ask him, how I look when I walk away.

“Would you really not change anything? If you went back?”

“What do you mean?”

He pauses, still with his back turned to me, then continues, “I guess we were all immature in our university days. If I could go back, I would change some things at least.”

“Not take that sociology class?”

“No,” he shakes his head, “I’d still take it; even though it gave you an irrational fear of surveyors, I’d still take it. for me, that sociology class was one of the brightest moments of my university life.”

He turns to me, and under the bright lights of the kitchen, he looks strange, as though he has been restraining himself from doing something, “would you have changed anything?”

“I’d still take the sociology class,” I admit, “I met you and Joshua in that class after all.”

“And?”

“And it’s one of the brightest moments of my youth,” I say, “that class, it was the brightest spot in my university life.”

“Because of me, or because of Joshua?”

I scoff, “that’s a weird question, Lee Jihoon.”

“Answer the question.”

“I can’t choose.”

Jihoon sighs, before holding out a glass of water. “Its lemon water, drink up,” he says, “you can’t drink honey water.”

“You remembered?”

“I remember everything about you, you idiot,” Jihoon points towards the bedroom, “you’re going to hurt your back if you sleep on the couch, so take the bed.”

The bedroom seems inviting. So’s the bed, if I’m being honest. White sheets with an embarrassingly high thread count, with Jihoon’s books all arranged neatly in a bookshelf. There are pictures too, of us, hung up on a corkboard, half of them from university when we were too out of it to remember anything.

“This one is my favourite,” I say, pointing to a polaroid shot of the two of us, in one of Seungkwan’s birthday parties, me with my arms around Jihoon and Jihoon pulling a face, as though the last thing he wanted to do was take a picture with me, “we look so cute.”

“You and your ideas about cuteness.” Jihoon scoffs, throwing a pile of clothes onto the bed, “get changed. Or don’t, I’m going to be washing these sheets anyway.”

“You didn’t tell me which one’s your favourite,” I say, taking off my shirt and putting on Jihoon’s, “where do you even buy these shirts from? They’re so comfortable.”

“What do you mean?” Jihoon, who had been walking out of the door into the living room, walks back, “What the fuck! Don’t change your clothes anywhere, you idiot?”

I frown, “I’m changing in front of you because I trust you enough to not take advantage of me, is that not obvious? And besides, don’t act as though we haven’t changed in front of each other before.”

“There were circumstances, not you stripping in the middle of the bedroom like this.”

“Excuses,” I say, slipping on a pair of his shorts. They’re at least two sizes too big for me, “you still didn’t tell me which picture is your favourite.”

“You’re going to get killed one day, mark my words,” Jihoon mutters, pointing to a picture on the corkboard, “there, that’s my favourite picture of us. Happy?”

I lean forward, observing the picture. It’s a printout of a picture taken on the Jihoon went to the military, his head hidden under a flat cap that I had gifted after watching Peaky Blinders, and although Jihoon had hated it, he wore it all the same. It’s a simple picture, him with a bored expression on his face, and me, beside him, putting on a smile for the world to see.

“This was on the day of your entrance ceremony, right?”

“Hmm. You were the first to come. The others almost couldn’t make it.”

I look at Jihoon out of the corner of my eye. He has a strange, wistful expression on his face. I’ve never seen this expression on his face. Jihoon seems smaller than he is, vulnerable. The military wasn’t a great experience for him, I know that, but perhaps talking about it is too much.

“Hey, do you have any other pictures from university around?” I ask, looking at the corkboard, “or have you put up some of our new pictures?”

“I was happy in there, you know.”

I look at him. Jihoon’s serious, “I mean, it was difficult, but I got through it. I had my friends, and I had you.”

“Pfft. I wasn’t even in the military.”

“You used to come visit me every month or something.”

“And I remember you used to get annoyed by me.”

“I lied.”

“What?” now its my turn to be surprised, because all I remember is Jihoon getting angry with me over jajangmyeon, “You used to get pissed off all the time!”

“I lied,” he says, leaning against the doorframe, “truth be told, those visits were one of the bright sports in my military service. You and I, fighting over food, like we were back in university again. It made me feel, ah, I can tolerate this. I can get over this.”

I open my mouth, but nothing comes out. Is this what they say ‘lost for words?’ Jihoon shakes his head, “hey, go to bed. Its late enough that you’ll need to take a leave of absence tomorrow. I’ll sleep on the couch.”

“Hey, Jihoon?” I call behind him.

“What now?”

Maybe it’s the alcohol. I’m not as drunk as I was before, but I’m still drunk, right? Or maybe it’s the way Jihoon looks from behind, sad and lonely, someone struggling to hold onto his sanity, in a world that continually squeezes every last drop of humanity from us. Or maybe its both.

“Do you want to sleep here with me?”

Jihoon stares at me for a moment. “You’re still drunk.”

“I’m not! The couch is very uncomfortable, and I’d hate for you to sleep badly because of me.”

“Dude, I’m used to this.”

“Is it because ‘you’re a guy’? Jihoon, you have thousand-count Egyptian cotton sheets. You’re clearly going to be more uncomfortable.”

Jihoon sighs, then climbs into the bed, “don’t try anything funny.”

I laugh, “shouldn’t I be saying that to you?”

“I don’t trust you.”

I laugh, before climbing into bed beside Jihoon. Its awkward, but that’s simply because we haven’t done this in so long. Jihoon is warm beside me, his body heat permeating the thin fabric of the bedsheets. This is why I should not make decisions when blind drunk.

“Don’t think too much about it.”

“Hm?” I turn my head to see Jihoon, his eyes closed, “you’re thinking about it too hard. Don’t think so much. This is fine. We’re friends. Friends can do this once in a while.”

I nod my head. We’re friends, right. Friends do these kind of things, friends come over to each other’s homes, friends comfort each other when drunk. Its what friends do.

“Hey, have I told you something?”

“I’m trying to sleep here,” Jihoon groans, “go on.”

“Have I ever told you that my dream was to be a writer?”

“Not really. It was?”

“Yes. When I was a child, I’d write stories all the time, and I’d read them out to my parents. They were really encouraging when I was younger, but as I grew older, I had other things to think about, and I suppose I lost that dream somewhere along the way.”

Jihoon says nothing, so I continue, “it makes me jealous sometimes, when I see people following their dreams. I keep thinking to myself, ah, if only I had more courage, if only I could stick to my dreams, I would have been able to fulfil them; and then I look at my parents, the people who have stuck beside me and supported me, and I think to myself, would I have been able to support them as well as I do now, if I had followed my dreams?”

“Even me?”

I pause, “Especially you.”

Jihoon sighs, and for five minutes, all I can hear is his breathing, steady and slow. Did he fall asleep? I want to ask him what he thinks, but before I can open my mouth, he begins, “You still have that dream, you know.”

I look at him. Jihoon’s eyes are closed, but he’s speaking, softly, as though he’s scared that if he raises his voice, all this would disappear, “you can take a break. Its okay to take a break. But your dream is your own. It’ll always be there for you.”

“And what if I decide to give up?”

“Then that’s okay too. Just because you gave up on it doesn’t mean it didn’t give you happiness for a time.”

I fall silent, because really, what else is there for me to say after this? In the dark room, the moonlight filters in through the curtains, and Jihoon is there, beside me, his presence solid as a rock. In between us, my dreams lie, scattered and broken, a space that neither of us can cross. We’d always be on opposite sides of the river, me and Jihoon, despite how close we are. I’ll always resent him for being brave enough to follow his dreams, and he’ll always fail to understand who I am. Its better this way. Better to be far apart and resentful than be close and drift apart anyway. I’ll take this emotional distance over a physical one.

—

I wake up in the morning to find Jihoon gone, and a cooked breakfast waiting for me on the table with an attached note: don’t think too much about it.

“He’s the one who needs to think less,” I mutter, settling down to finish the omurice he’s made, (the onions were raw and the egg was rubbery) but it has been a long time since I’ve had anyone make me a meal, and I finish the entire dish, washing up in return. It’s fine if he doesn’t want to see me, its fine if he doesn’t even want to talk to me after I said that I was jealous of him; its common nature to avoid the other person if they are jealous of you, or if they are envious of you. “Still, he could have said good morning.” I murmur, putting on my shoes.

For all Jihoon’s posturing about how much he loves his private space and how much he hates the chaos the rest of the boys bring, he still lives in the same building as Mingyu, whose door I tiptoe past on the way to the elevator. Wait, why am I ashamed? I’ve spent a lot of time in Jihoon’s apartment, and he’s spent an equal amount of time in mine. Then why am I treating this as a walk of shame?

I press the button to the elevator, and Mingyu’s door opens. Oh shit, now he’s going to see me—wait, I thought we were going to be normal about this? Before I can hide in the stairs, Mingyu’s walking over to the elevator, dressed for the day, his face lighting up when he sees me, “hi, noona. Crashed at Jihoon-hyung’s house?”

“Ah. Ah, yes, yes, I did. I simply slept over. Nothing else.” I manage to say, stumbling through my words. Great, now he’s going to think Jihoon and I had sex.

Fortunately for me, Mingyu doesn’t seem like the sort of person to take things to heart. “I didn’t imply anything else,” he says equally brightly, showing no signs of being awkward, “Seungkwan told me you all got wasted on a Monday night. Do you want me to give you a lift?”

“Yeah, that would be really nice, thank you. Also, blame our editor and assistant editor,” I reply, “they seem to have no sense of how to host company dinners. At least this time I didn’t have to pay out of my own pocket.”

“You had to pay out of your own pocket?” Mingyu looks aghast, as though my loss of funds is a personal slight, “that would never fly in my company.”

“Yeah, that tracks. Minghao always hated large get-togethers.”

“No, he didn’t.”

I roll my eyes, “he didn’t hate them when it was you guys. He absolutely hated them when he was forced together with a group of people he didn’t like.”

“Oh, you’re talking about that. He’s much better now, I can assure you.” Mingyu says, as the elevator dings to a stop, “noona, did you get the new clothes from the autumn collection? I sent you the women’s collection. I didn’t know what size you were, so I asked Jihoon-hyung for help. Did they fit well?”

“Kim Mingyu, if you give me new clothes from every collection, then how the hell are you going to make any profit?” I ask, and he just laughs, “you’ve been sending me all these clothes when I don’t even post on Instagram! Minghao would have your head if he knew about this.”

“That’s his idea,” Mingyu replies, walking ahead of me to the parking lot, “you spent so much on us during university, then when M.M launched, you wrote a good review of us too.”

“I’m going to be accused of biased reporting, you jerk, I only said the truth. And besides, I left the job at the fashion magazine.”

“Still, you helped us a lot. And besides,” he opens the door to his car for me, “step in.”

“And besides?” I ask, putting on the seatbelt.

“Besides,” Mingyu gets into the car, “I like you a lot, noona.”

I smack him on the back of his head.

—

The office is empty when I walk in, which means I get to have five minutes of peace before the Editor walks in and demands all the articles of the week laid out in front of him, because of course, who else would take on all the jobs of the culture desk if its not for me, the Associate editor, the one who’s supposed to be happy to be included? Every week, the culture desk does a special feature, and usually, the assistant editor is in charge of it, unless, they decided to tack it onto my ever-growing list of things that need to be done.

“Sunbae,” I swivel around my chair to find a haggard-looking Seungkwan, “you’re here already?”

“Yes, I am, Seungkwan,” I tease, “are you feeling better?”

“Ugh, my brain feels as though it’s about to leak out of my ears.” Seungkwan mutters, sliding into his desk, “and we have the weekly meeting too, unless the editor isn’t feeling well enough to come in.”

“He’s got an iron stomach,” I wave, “he once came in after being blackout drunk, this isn’t even a big deal.”

Seungkwan groans, then opens his mouth to say something, stopping abruptly at the sight of my clothes. “Sunbae,” he says, “did you borrow those clothes from Jihoon-hyung?”

“What? I’m wearing my own clothes—” I look down at my shirt. Sure enough, its Jihoon’s shirt, the one he made to give as presents to give out to famous people who visited his studio. I can’t even lie and say that it’s from a former boyfriend. Fuck. “Yes, I crashed at Jihoon’s place last night. Was too drunk to take a cab, and he let me stay over at his place.”

“That makes a lot of sense.”

“Yes, yes it does. wait, why am I even explaining it to you? You were the one who ditched me to go for a second round at the karaoke bar.”

At the mention of the karaoke bar, Seungkwan presses two fingers to his temple, “don’t even start me on that. The people here drink so much, its sickening.”

“Who drinks a lot?” it’s the editor, with a pained smile on his face, “remind me never to host company dinners on Monday evenings.”

“I could have told you this before, sir, except you didn’t really listen to me.”

He shakes a finger, “then remind me to listen to you on matters of company dinners. God, my head hurts so much.”

Soon enough, people start filtering into the office; Haewon comes in with dark circles underneath her eyes that are barely hidden by makeup, the assistant editor walks in soon after that, nursing a bottle of hangover cure. The seven of us pile into the meeting room, where the editor looks as though he wants to be anywhere but here.

“The bosses have asked me to start a new column,” he says, after the larger part of the meeting is over, “just a general column, but new ideas will be appreciated.”

“A column on new books?” Haneul asks, “we could have a dedicated column on books.”

“We review every new book when it comes out, there’s no need to have a dedicated column for book releases.”

“Relationship advice?” Changmin raises his hand, “we could have readers send in their concerns, and one of us could write about them.”

“This isn’t Sex and The City, Changmin,” Haewon says, “stop trying to be Carrie Bradshaw.”

Changmin deflates, looking exactly like the stock photo of a blobfish, and Seungkwan decides to step in, “what if we did a comparative study of cultures across Korea? We could talk about provinces that aren’t really explored in media.”

An excellent idea, I think to myself, but too research-heavy for Seungkwan to do it himself. And sure enough, the editor shoots it down, saying, “we can’t spare two people going around Korea to find out about traditional villages. We don’t have the money, nor the manpower for it.”

Everyone sighs, and the editor looks at me, “any ideas?”

[Here we take a small break from our regular programming to tell readers that the following stunts were performed by a professional, under medical supervision, and must not be replicated in real-life situations.]

“What about—dreams?” I say, scrunching up my face and hoping the editor doesn’t notice my lack of preparation for this meeting, “what if, we had a weekly column where we talked about our dreams. Whether we have managed to achieve them, or whether we have only gone further away from it; like a confessional. One of us could write it, or we could have readers send in their entries. Like Hong Seung-Hee’s Suicide Diaries.”

The editor ponders over it for a minute, then looks to the assistant editor, who nods appreciatively. Great, I think, I’ve managed to save my ass. If there was anyone being reprimanded at this meeting it would not be me.

“You do it.” the editor says.

“Huh?”

“The column on dreams, you do it, since its your idea.” The assistant editor smiles encouragingly at me, “I think it’ll be something really good.”

“No, but,” I sputter, even as the rest of them shuffle out of the meeting room, “Editor! Why can’t you just take credit for my work like the rest of bosses?”

The editor looks at me, “why would you want me to do that?”

“I don’t know, it’s what others do!”

“Look,” the editor says, voice gentle, as though he’s speaking to a fragile toddler, which I can’t even blame him for, “if the workload is getting too much, you can always offload some of it onto us.”

“No, I can do it.”

Back at my desk, I groan, before almost smacking my head open on it. Seungkwan offers me a smile, before setting down a coffee. Bless that boy. I knew pulling something out of my ass would get me into trouble. If I hadn’t spoken up, they would still be considering Seungkwan’s idea of going around the countryside. At least that would mean a vacation on office time and office money, this just means I have to work twice as hard.

And why the fuck did I talk about dreams? I could have talked about esoteric theatrical performances, or trends in trot music, or even the different kinds of marinated crabs they sell around the company building (there are seven different restaurants that offer it), why, why, did I have to go and open my mouth to talk about dreams? Out of all the people here, I’m perhaps the least qualified to talk about my dreams, given how spectacularly I’ve managed to fail at following them, and the deadline is in three days.

“What are you thinking about, sunbae?” Haewon asks, depositing another can of coffee on my desk around lunchtime, “you’ve been working like a maniac all morning, aren’t you going to take lunch?”

“Can’t, Haewon, still have to put finishing edits on the three articles that are supposed to release this afternoon. Then I have to start working on the column, because I know its going to take me a long time to finish it.”

“Wow, you sure work hard,” Haewon grimaces, “well, if you need me to pick up something for you at the convenience store, make sure to text me.”

“Hey, Haewon,” I call after her retreating back, “where’s the article on the new movie?”

“Its in your inbox, I just sent it to you,” she calls out, “should I get you a lunch set?”

“Thanks!”

My eyes are itching. Perhaps from having stared at the computer screen for too long, but I take out my contacts in the washroom, instead of putting in lubricating drops. While on the toilet seat, I make a mental note of all the things I’m supposed to do, just in this week. Edit articles as they come by. Write a review of the play I went to. Write a new column, get it approved by the editor. Make amends with Jihoon. Look for a new apartment that doesn’t bleed me dry.

I moan as I press my hands to my temples, “there’s no way I can get this done in a week.”

My phone pings, and it is embarrassing how quickly I reach for it, hoping it to be a text from Jihoon. Its not. Instead, its Mingyu, texting me about my health.

Gyu: noona, you didn’t seem well in the morning. Should I get some medicine for your hangover?

I crack a smile. Having Kim Mingyu show up on the doorstep of my company would imply him being accosted by thirty people at least, and have his photo taken without his consent. It’s bad enough I took his car to come to the office this morning.

big dick (canon): no, Mingyu, please don’t put yourself in harm’s way by bringing me medicine.

Gyu: Minghao can do it too

Gyu: he hasn’t seen you in a while so he said he was missing you

Gyu: should I send him?

big dick (canon): no, I’m fine, Seungkwan brought me a hangover drink from the convenience store.

This is a lie, but I figure Seungkwan doesn’t really have anything to lose by featuring as the Good Samaritan in my story.

Gyu: tell me if there’s something I can do for you

Gyu: you know that we’re all there for you, right?

Ah, this cursed statement, ‘being there for you’. In my experience, people who say this, are rarely there for others. Everyone says it with such sincerity, but when it comes to the actual thing, they are rarely anywhere to be found.

big dick (canon): thanks for the offer, but I’m fine. Just a bit frazzled from all the apartment-hunting I’ve been doing over the weekends.

Gyu: no luck yet? I heard from Joshua-hyung that your lease was up

big dick (canon): he’s told all of you?

Gyu: no, just the guys

big dick (canon): so, everyone.

Gyu: well, unfortunately, everyone’s aware. Sorry, noona.

big dick (canon): well, what else can I do about it.

Gyu: I can ask the other guys to not ask you about it

big dick (canon): no, no, if they can help, I’m going to be grateful

gyu: so, do you want me to help?

big dick (canon): yeah, what the fuck, it's not as though I'm going to lose something by asking for help.

Gyu: I'll ask my contacts if they have an affordable apartment around

big dick (canon): While this is a blow to my pride, I’d still be grateful if I can manage to get a good place that doesn't cost me an arm and a leg

gyu: on it, noona.

Back at my desk, I trawl through the columns submitted by the reporters, adding edits to them to be published. One of the few perks of my job is the freedom I get while editing articles, because the editor and the assistant editor are both busy with administrative works to be bothered about the day-to-day works of the desk. To be fair, the new column should have been one of their duties, but now that it's my work, I need to do my best. Or at least, not fuck up in a way that ends up with me being fired.

Haewon, the absolute angel, has brought a lunch set for me from the convenience store, with fried chicken and green salad. The chicken is rubbery, and the salad is stale, but to my groaning stomach, it's all delicious. I pull up the word file sent by Seungkwan, and I'm not even two minutes into editing it, when my phone pings again. I check it, hoping for a text from Mingyu, but instead, it's a text from Jihoon, who is apparently not ignoring me any longer.

hoon: are you asking Mingyu of all people for help with your apartment search?

big dick (canon): he offered to help me, and I am not going to turn down help offered by anyone

hoon: you could have just asked me

big dick (canon): you left abruptly this morning, so I thought you were ignoring me. Hence, I didn't want to bother you

hoon: get this concept clearly, okay?

big dick (canon): what concept

hoon: you're my friend. Friends are allowed to help each other, even if the other person is a weirdo

hoon: how long do you have on the lease?

big dick (canon): not much, but I can’t find an apartment that fits my needs. They are either out of the way, or too expensive, or just straight up bad

big dick (canon): I don’t want to spend an hour on my commute that’s going to eat into my free time

big dick (canon): and I don’t want to spend too much on a flat when I’m clearly going to be renting

big dick (canon): you know, usual demands

hoon: the flat next to mine is empty

big dick (canon): doesn’t someone live there?

hoon: you’re in luck, no one does

big dick (canon): keep feeling like there’s a catch that I’m missing

hoon: about that, well

hoon: the reason why its empty and people don’t get it is because an old lady died in there

hoon: so, you might be haunted by ghosts

big dick (canon): that’s an extremely stupid reasoning

big dick (canon): do you know the realtor

hoon: I don’t, since she’s new, but

hoon: I’ll call her and say that you want to see the apartment

big dick (canon): you’d do that omg thank u

hoon: in return

hoon: please cook for me

big dick (canon):KNEW THERE WAS A CATCH

hoon: I’m lazy and I don’t like to cook

hoon: too much prep too much clutter

hoon: I could use that time to make music instead

big dick (canon):ah yes, the great Woozi makes his appearance

big dick (canon): can I see the apartment this week

hoon: yeah, I’m done with this song, so I have a bit of free time before preparation for Soonyoung’s new album begins

big dick (canon): Hoshi is coming out with an album omg this is INSIDER SCOOP

hoon: are you for real? The company announced it in the beginning of the financial year

big dick (canon): right, I keep forgetting

big dick (canon): I totally remembered btw

hoon: I’ll pick you up at 5 if that’s okay

big dick (canon): yeah, that works

—

The realtor is a fifty-year old woman with an extravagant puff on her head, who glosses over the supposed ghosts living in the apartment and goes entirely too hard on trying to sell me the apartment. And she didn’t even need to, because I would have taken it anyway. It’s less of an apartment meant for a singular person and more for newlyweds, with two rooms, a large enough living room, and on top of it all, a kitchen with plenty enough light for me to grow my own plants. The bedroom faces south, and there’s enough space in the living room for me to host my friends (two of them) when they come over. I can just tell Mr Kim I’m leaving the apartment tomorrow. He’s probably been itching to find another naïve university student to fleece.

“This is great,” I say, after the tour is over, “I’ll take it.”

“Great! This will be just perfect for the two of you.” The old woman titters, “I love selling newlywed houses!”

What?

I look at Jihoon, who seems just as surprised as I am, “uh, ma’am, we aren’t married.”

Now its her turn to look surprised, “what do you mean you’re not married? You guys look exactly like a married couple!”

“No, ma’am,” Jihoon says, “she’s my best friend. I’m only helping her get an apartment at a good price.”

“Ah yes, friends, is it?” there’s a twinkle in the old woman’s eye that I can’t quite place, “we’ll see about that, eh?”

“Uh, no, no one is seeing anything about it, because we aren’t dating, nor are we married.”

—

“There is only one perk to living in a hovel like a broke university student for six years after university, and that is the amount of money one saves in their bank account.” I say, taking a sip out of the shared kimchi jjigae pot, “I don’t even have to get a big loan out of the bank to pay for the deposit.”

“Are you that happy?” Jihoon asks, “you’ve been smiling non-stop since signing the agreement. You know, you could have seen more apartments, right?”

“No, this one is the best,” I say, “the kitchen has space for plants, there’s a veranda, the bedrooms are big, but not too big, you know? Just the perfect size.”

“The perfect size?”

“Yes, you know, the perfect size, not too small that it feels suffocating, not too big that it feels depressing. Just the right amount of cozy.”

“You’re crazy.” Jihoon says, “that’s some crazy-person logic right there.”

“I’m not!” I protest, but there’s no real spite in Jihoon’s words, and its almost as though he’s bickering with me to continue to keep things normal, or at least, as normal as they come.

“About the other night,” he begins, “you don’t have to feel envious of me that way.”

“I’m sorry about the other night. Admittedly, I was drunk.”

Jihoon stares at me. “Really? Are you going to pull the ‘I was so drunk I forgot’ trick? On me?”

“Uh, obviously, no.”

“So, you were.”

I grimace, and Jihoon sighs, “look, if you want to forget about this, you can, and I’ll pretend as though nothing happened that night, and you said nothing, we’ll move past it as we always do. but envy, jealousy, these are all important emotions, and I think you should at least try to talk to someone about it.”

“I’m talking to you.”

“Not me, I mean an impartial party.”

“Like a therapist?” I narrow my eyes, “Are you calling me insane?”

“What? No! I’m not saying that you’re crazy, I’m just saying that you might need to talk to someone outside of me and Joshua once in a while.”

“I talk to Eunseo. And Seungkwan. And the people at the newsdesk.”

“None of these people are impartial listeners, and besides, you don’t even go out much!”

“I’m out with you right now!”

Jihoon sighs, “yeah, I get it, going to therapy sounds difficult. But I really think you need to—”

“And since when are you the arbiter of my needs and wants?” my voice comes out sharper than I intended, and Jihoon just stares at me with a mix of shock and awe and something I can’t quite explain, “you can come and sit here and tell me that you think I should go to therapy, but have you ever paused to take a moment to understand what I need? I don’t need someone to tell me what I need to do, I already know that! I just need someone to be there for me, even when I sound stupid and petty and foolish.”

“Do you always need to take things this far?”

“This far? Why is it always me taking things ‘this far’ with you, Jihoon? Why can’t you stop for a moment, and try to look at things from my perspective for once?” I pause for a moment, chest heaving, “this won’t do, I can’t bear to sit down and eat a meal with you right now.”

With this, I storm out of the restaurant, Jihoon running behind me, “hey, look, we can just talk it—”

“I don’t want to talk things out with you!” there are people staring at me, but I just cannot bring myself to care right now, “you’ve kept pushing the idea of me sleeping with people ever since you found out about my feelings. Have you ever stopped to ask if that’s something I really want?”

“Then tell me!” Jihoon’s yelling too, the two of us on a busy street in a late autumn evening, screaming at each other, “you never tell anyone anything! I’ve been friends with you for six years, and I still don’t know anything about you! What is it that you actually want? Why won’t you let me help you?”

“Because I’m scared!”

Jihoon stops, stunned. Terrified. There’s no other way to explain the expression on his face. I continue, “because I’m terrified that I’ll do something wrong. All my life, I’ve lived in the fear of doing something wrong, of letting people down. What happens when I take a step forward? Will it be the right decision? Will I do something wrong again? I’ve always thought that, and now, when you keep telling me to take a step, I’m terrified, Jihoon. There’s nothing I can do about it.”

There. Now I’ve said it. “I think we should stop talking to each other for a while, Jihoon,” I say, walking away from him, “with you, I’ll always think of the ‘what if’s’ and I’ll be stuck anyway, but this time, I’ll be terrified, and I’ll fail. I don’t want that for myself, and you deserve better than a friend who’s like me.”

—

What are dreams? Are they something that your inner child holds on to, in the hopes of a better future, or are they something that the adult of now, works toward? I’ve always thought about what dreams meant to me, and I’ve always come up short.

The psychoanalyst Sigmund Freud interpreted dreams as the manifestation of our subconscious mind, a look into our unfulfilled wishes. But this is the scientific interpretation. what does it actually mean, to be able to dream?

When I was younger, I dreamt of a happier existence. An existence where I was fulfilled, or better yet, my desires were fulfilled. I kept dreaming, and dreaming, and dreaming, until one day I woke up and felt myself in a foreign land where dreams held little meaning.

In truth, that is our reality. A foreign land where we are forced to give up on our childhood dreams, and become grown-up adults. The definition of a dream changes too, from the manifestation of our inner desires, to mere scientific fact, neurological phenomenon whereby we can ascertain the quality of our sleep. Is this what we are doomed to become? To go on with our lives from day to day, doomed to repeat the cycle until we die one day?

When I was young, I dreamt of being a writer. I wanted to weave worlds with my words, perfect the craft of storytelling until my words brought comfort to people. I wanted to be someone whose words could be someone’s comfort, someone’s pillar to lean on when distressed. But that was when I was a child. As I grew up, I realised, ah, this is the real world, a place where my words of comfort held no meaning for anyone. I struggled against it, because I could not accept my reality. I failed. The world was too big, too cruel for me to hold on to the foolish dreams of a five-year old, and I woke up to my reality. Now, my words bring no comfort to anyone, because they are no longer my own. My words don’t belong to me, and neither does my dream. It is something I’ve kept locked in a box, hidden amidst my childhood belongings.

I am an adult. I envy people, I get jealous of people, I hold petty grudges. It’s who I am. I envy people who have achieved their dream, I envy people who are working towards their dream, because it reminds me of a five-year old child, whose dreams I allowed the world to crush. And they didn’t deserve that. None of us do.

So, for all of you who are working towards your dreams, may they be fulfilled someday. And for those who have given up on our dreams. It will be okay. Even if we gave up on it, even if it is distant from us now, it doesn’t mean we weren’t happy once.

—

“That’s the last of it,” Joshua pants as he hauls up a flowerpot into my kitchen, “why do you have so many plants?”

“So that I can save on groceries.”

“Wow, noona, you’re really sensible,” Mingyu says, “should I keep a plant in my home as well?”

“You can barely keep a rock alive, Mingyu, and that’s me being nice.” Joshua mutters, laid out on the sofa, “this is not how I imagined my day off to be going.”

“I enjoyed today,” Mingyu jumps up form his seat on the floor, “do you want jajangmyeon?”

“I just ordered it,” I say, settling down in a chair, “wow, this is nice.”

The flat is piled high with furniture, but the majority of it had been done by movers the previous day. My landlord, who hated the sight of me, even patted me on the back and said he was sorry to see me go. Weird. But, now that I’m in my own room, with enough sunlight and air and a new place to start over again, I can feel myself growing happier. Is it something related to places? Can they really affect mental statuses? “I should host a housewarming party later on, when I’m all settled in?”

“Really?” Mingyu perks up at the idea of a party, “you’ll invite all the others too?”

“Yes, I’ll invite everyone.”

“Great!” he’s already on his phone, “Jeonghan-hyung will be so happy to see you again.”

“I haven’t seen him in months,” I muse, “god, I don’t think I’ve seen all thirteen of you together in months, now. Or has it been a year?”

“Probably a year,” Joshua groans, “the last time we met up was at Chan’s welcome back party. Ugh, my back is killing me.”

“Old man,” Mingyu laughs, “shouldn’t you be at home with your fiancée?”

“Eunseo asked me to help out since she couldn’t come.” Joshua clarifies, “she was the one who was asked initially.”

“Makes sense.” Mingyu nods sagely, then jumps up at the sound of the doorbell, “food’s here!”

This is how it should be. Life. Surrounded by friends, surrounded by people who make you laugh. If this is how I can live here, then I’ll be happy, I think. But happiness is a difficult construct, and an ephemeral state of being for me, always slipping out of my grasp.

“Noona, where is Jihoon—” Mingyu gets a swift kick to the ass for that sentence from Joshua, and my smile dies away on my face.

True, no one has commented on it, not at the office, nor between friends, but I can practically feel Seungkwan’s curiosity burning every time I take lunch by myself, or I go out to meet people out of office, and come back alone. I haven’t been attending Sunday morning brunch with Joshua and Jihoon either, and both Joshua and Eunseo have kept quiet about it, but sooner or later, someone would have to speak up. Its unusual, having Jihoon away from me, without his voice being a constant presence in my life. Now, even with him living next door to me, I can’t reach out. The metaphorical rift has now become real.

“He’s busy,” I say, trying to change the subject, “I think he’s busy with Hoshi’s new project.”

That gets Mingyu’s attention, and he starts talking about how his and Minghao’s company is the one who’s dressing Soonyoung for his comeback, and how Soonyoung keeps wanting custom tiger-print stuff, until I can comfortably lean back and just laugh along at his words, trying not to think too much about Jihoon.

Later that night, as I’m climbing into bed, exhausted, the doorbell rings again. I’m dressed in pyjamas, with a pair of fluffy slippers on my feet, and the sound of the bell makes me wary. Who could it be, at—eleven at night? All of a sudden, I’m gripped with all the things I’ve heard on true crime podcasts, about the perils of single women living alone.

Wait, you’re thinking too much. It’s probably Mingyu, dropping something off. Right, that’s it. it could be Mingyu.

I open the door a little, “Mingyu, could you come back in the morning? I’m tired—”

“Do I look like Mingyu to you?”

In my shock, the door swings wide open. Its Jihoon, dressed like he’s come home running from work, the tip of his nose pink. He’s dressed casually again, in a white jacket over a black t-shirt. In comparison, I look and feel horribly underdressed.

“Look,” Jihoon begins, “am I too late?”

“For?”

“Is there nothing I can do to repair this friendship? Am I too late?” he grabs my hands, “I’m sorry, I’ll apologise a thousand times if you want. I stayed away from you because you wanted me to, but I can’t. I can’t give you up as a friend. I need you in my life.”

“Jihoon,” I open my mouth to say something, but my heart starts beating erratically. Is this normal? I look at Jihoon again, wide-eyed, evidence of tears on his cheeks, and I can’t do anything but nod my head.

Fuck. I’m screwed.

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sabh0 · 2 months ago

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Little rant and probably a controversial opinion, please don't burn me at the stake for that If i asked you to guess how many dazai anon accounts have i blocked here till now, what number would u think of? Bc i just checked - i currently have 9 of their accounts blocked. 2 from this week alone. And it's not like i go around hunting for them. I just randomly open tumblr to check what silly things did ppl say about my art, and then i see 50 different reblogs, comments or asks from dazai anon alone, being no longer only mean to Chuuya or skk, but bashing my art or telling me to off myself!!! Yay!! And u know, it wasn't a problem in the beginning. The stuff they write is comedic with how stupid it is. I could also interact with em smh (ngl, they left me for a good while after i drew them and chuuya making out that one time). And as i said, before they didn't attack me personally. But then i started getting comments that i shouldn't interact with dazai anon bc something something they're mentally unstable? Like im sorry, but how is this my problem. They come to me and regularly tell me to hurt myself, but i can't even reply to them bc "sab, it's no use, they're sick smth smth smth, just block them"?? Like bruh aight, it's just that sitting silently actually starts to affect me. Bc no matter how many accounts i block, they come back with a new one the moment they realize they're blocked. And the whole carousel of "block, dont interact" starts again. I just think it's not really alright to tell ppl that they can't in any way stand up for themselves? Why do i have to care about personal wellbeing or a sad backstory of someone who doesn't respect mine? Why should i even know about their problems? They're a complete stranger to me and i don't really go around reading random people's biographies on the internet. Like aughhh it's seriously starting to annoy me now,,,, i'm not saying ppl ACCEPT what dazai anon does, but using the excuse that they're not okay mentally just doesn't sit right with me, idk. Mental health problems should never be an excuse for hurting others, imo.

#sab yapping #this became longer than i intended #idk what im even talking about bc it's not like it's gonna change anything #ppl tell u that someone who harasses u is just mentally unstable so it's alright for em to just go around saying all that stuff #you as an artist shouldn't rile them up yada yada it's gonna help #spoiler: it doesn't bc yall just dont see the mess that r my notifs when they make a new acc each week #and like im currently on hiatus for a lot of reasons #mental health being one of em #i have my problems too but i dont go around being mean to ppl bc i disagree with em about some fictional characters oh god #sorry for the rant but im angy

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tkwrites · 4 months ago

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It Doesn't Matter - Part II - Nico Hischier x ofc

Gif from offside-the-lines

Title: It Doesn’t Matter - Part II

Author: Tory / @tkwrites

Relationship: Beginning: Nico Hischier x Original female character

Summary: When Nico agreed to pose for Lena as her nude model, he never expected how difficult it would be or where the night would take them.

Warnings: Slow burn, talk of lots of anxiety, being naked for the sake of art, smut at the end (18+): handjob (f on m) fingering (m on f)

Word count: 12,200

Comments: This fic has taken on a bit of a mind of its own. It’s much, much longer than I originally envisioned, but I couldn’t bear to cut any of it down. I hope you like it as much as I do and enjoy Nico and Lena finally sharing their feelings for each other.

If you enjoyed this, please let me know by commenting, reblogging, or sending in an ask. Your encouragement and comments truly inspire me to keep writing.

It Doesn’t Matter - Part II

“I feel like I shouldn’t eat before,” Nico said, looking down at the spread of sushi that had just been delivered to the apartment.

“Why not?”

“So I’m not…” he patted his stomach affectionately. Not only would he be immortalized in her art, he didn’t want the first time she saw him naked to include being bloated from eating too much rice.

Lena flipped her hand and shook her head, “the whole point of a nude study is to see a human figure as it is, not as someone who's prepped for three days or something.”

He looked unconvinced.

“Do whatever you feel comfortable with, but don’t get hangry on me,” she warned, pointing her chopsticks at him.

Holding up his hands in surrender, he laughed.

He ate but stopped as soon as he felt the mildest hint of fullness. He could eat more when they were done.

“So, do I just get naked?” he joked, sliding the plastic takeout containers into the fridge.

She snorted, but the tips of her ears flared pink.

“I…kind of hoped…” her voice trailed off. She wasn’t sure if she could just come out and ask for what she wanted. If he were a hired model, she would have asked him to come in a specific outfit, but this was Nico, and he was doing this as a favor.

“What?” he asked, unsure why she was being so hesitant. He was doing this for her. Didn't she know he would do just about anything for her? “Do you want me to wear something specific?”

Well, if he was offering. “Can you put on some dark suit pants with a belt?”

That wasn’t so bad. “Anything else?”

“No socks.” She knew he didn’t love to be barefoot, but for this, they would go against the picture and story she was building in her mind.

“Does it matter what color boxers?” he asked instead of protesting. He couldn’t remember what color he’d put on that morning.

Just thinking about seeing him in his boxers made her blush. Which was so stupid. She’d walked into the kitchen just the week before, only to find him walking around in nothing more than a tiny pair of black boxer briefs. They’d hugged his ass so tightly that she could see the muscles shift every time he moved.

Finally managing to shake her head and desperate to change the subject, she blurted, “I’m going to go set up in the living room.”

Nico smiled at how flustered she was as he went to change. Maybe Nina was right. At the very least, she might not be totally wrong.

“Maybe I’m just reading too much into it,” Nina had said when he had called his siblings in a panic the day before, trying to figure out how exactly he was going to get through this. “But I think you should give it a try. At least tell her how you feel. You don’t see the way she looks at you.”

He did see the way she looked at him. The same way she always had. Friendly and open and kind. But that was it. It never went beyond that.

“And what if I tell her and she turns me down? Or what if I tell her, and she says she doesn’t feel that way? I can’t just go back to how it was before. I can’t just take it back.”

“Isn’t it killing you to not tell her?” Luca asked. He didn’t understand it as well as Nina did, and had both feet firmly in camp ‘grow a pair and tell her,’ like Jack.

He gave a non-committal shrug. It was killing him. No, that was too dramatic. It wasn’t killing him, but it was making him a little crazy to feel so much intense emotion without having anywhere to put it.

Nina was tired of having this same discussion with him, which had only increased in frequency when Lena moved in. If she knew for a fact Lena wouldn’t turn him down, she wouldn’t hesitate to bully her little brother into spilling his guts. But as it was, she couldn’t guarantee anything.

“I’m going to make an ass of myself,” Nico moaned.

“You are not,” Nina admonished at the same time Luca said, “so what if you do?”

Luca continued before either of them could jump in, “you make an ass out of yourself every day you don’t tell her the truth.”

Nico had glared, and Nina had rolled her eyes.

In any case, knowing Lena was also nervous took some of his nerves down, too. At least he wasn’t alone in that.

Pulling out her art supplies, Lena felt like she might throw up. She was nervous and excited, and also so worried she wouldn’t be able to capture him. The last thing she wanted was to make Nico look flat.

Although landscapes were her specialty, the Institute insisted every artist get a full education, crossing over as many mediums and styles as possible. Even if it wasn’t the students' specialty, lots of things could be learned from going outside your own box.

She was scraping by in the class mostly because Professor Brown took pity on her. She told Lena over and over again that she had the talent but needed to feel the art. It was a criticism she only partially understood. Lena always felt her art, but figure drawing was indeed harder for her to connect with. She wasn't even sure why it was so difficult. Perhaps because a person was always moving, unlike a mountain that stayed steady and steadfast no matter what was happening around it. Capturing a facial expression was definitely harder than it was to find the divots and crags of a landscape.

This was another reason she wanted to sketch him. She knew him so well and knew she wouldn’t be able to turn off the part of her brain that was freaking out about seeing him naked. She would have to pay attention to his humanity and try to translate it onto the page.

Nerves ate at her stomach. Not only with the idea of not being able to capture his lovely figure, but also… Nico was her friend. Sometimes a little more than that if either of them needed a date to an event, but they’d never taken it beyond their usual, comfortable banter that often flirted with the idea of more. It was one of the things that made moving on from him so hard. He never made solid moves, but he never cut it off, either. He flashed his dimples and made her weak in the knees, but never went so far as to kiss her or really ask her on a date.

Seeing him naked without being in a relationship felt like a step too far. At the same time, it felt like the only option. There wasn’t another man she’d be comfortable sketching, despite her bluff about Jes.

Now she wished she hadn’t eaten.

At the very least, she would have the barrier of her art and easel between them. Maybe this really would force her into feeling her art. It already felt like she was fighting through her anxiety, and he wasn’t even there yet.

When he came into the living room, Nico found the furniture rearranged. She’d shoved the coffee table out of the way and set two of the dining room chairs in its place. She was unpacking her supplies, leaning a large sketching pad on her easel and lining several graphite pencils up on the side table, along with a sharpener.

“No paints?” he asked.

She jumped, and her heart did a little skid to the side. “These pieces are all supposed to be done in one color. I feel most comfortable with graphite, so I’m doing that instead of colored pencils,” she rambled before managing to cut herself off.

Turning to look at him, she breathed, “good heavens, you look hot,” before she could stop herself. She knew he would be, but she still felt like she’d just been socked in the stomach.

It was a bit selfish of her to request this particular outfit. She always liked the way his suit pants fit, and seeing his toned chest rising above the clean, sharp line of his black belt made her fingers itch to hold a pencil. His muscles were sculpted for practical use - not too bulky, but not too lean. Chiseled enough to show ridges and valleys, but not so much that he looked like a hulked out action hero.

He was desire personified. He was… he was an Adonis.

A cheeky smile lit his face, “good to know.”

She made herself laugh to break the tension.

“Where do you want me?” he asked, waggling his eyebrows. It felt too intimate, too much like something he fantasized about if he didn’t force himself to joke about it.

A triumphant smile lit her face. This she could do. She was used to directing models into shapes where the light would highlight the most interesting part of their features. She asked him to stand in the middle of the room and turned him a few times, trying to get the lighting right.

Nico tried not to flex or stand too stiffly when her hands were grasping his forearms to turn him this way and that. She stepped back to study him, then came forward to begin the process again.

Eventually, she shoved the couch out of the way and asked him to lean against the wall.

He stayed rigidly in the position she left him in as she brought another lamp into the room, angling the shade to get the shadows she was looking for.

“Just lean against the wall with your hands in your pockets.”

He did, and laughter burst out of her chest, “you can relax.”

“I don’t know what to do,” he admitted, looking up without changing his posture. He felt stiff and on display. In his mind, this was going to be much sexier than the reality was turning out to be. He didn’t know what to do with his hands or his eyes. Or his mouth. Was he supposed to be doing something with his mouth? Should he be smiling?

“Just stand like you would if you were waiting for something.”

"What am I waiting for?"

“Like you’re waiting for…me?”

“Where?”

“I don’t know, Nico,” she caught the exasperation in her voice and cut it off. He wasn’t a professional model. He wasn’t used to coming up with scenarios on the fly like this. “I’m sorry,” she said, shaking her head, “like you’re waiting for me to…” she trailed off. “It doesn’t really matter why.”

If it was up to him, he’d be waiting to take her to bed. She was wearing the same pink shirt she’d worn that day he walked in on her in the kitchen, and it brought up vivid memories of her wearing it without a bra. He wondered if she was wearing the matching underwear. The thought made him blush and cast his eyes down.

His hair flopped over one of his eyes in that cartoon prince way it always did.

“Stay there,” she practically yelled, her hands itching to capture the angles of his face.

The sound of her pencil brushing her paper took over his thoughts, and he tried not to twitch as his hair tickled his eyelid.

“Can you relax your shoulders?” she asked.

He rolled his shoulders back and did his best to relax, “better?”

“Don’t move,” she chastised.

He smiled a little before trying to settle his face back into the expression he had before.

Just as his neck was beginning to ache, she ripped the page from her pad and asked him to sit down.

He looked at her for direction and smiled at her intensity. He wondered if she always looked at people like this when she was drawing them. He was a little disappointed that in the six years he'd known her, this was the first time this kind of intensity was being turned on him.

“Just get comfortable.”

Nico extended one leg and slouched into the chair, letting the other knee fall to the side so his legs were spread.

“Can you,” Lena stopped herself mid request, biting her lip. In her mind, she was forming an art story of him slowly undressing. She wondered if this was just her lust talking and if that was okay.

“Can I?”

She decided she didn't care if it was her lust driving. It would be a good, easy to follow series.

Her cheeks were aflame, glowing bright in the lamp light. “Can you undo your pants?”

His eyes widened momentarily, and she saw his Adams apple bob in his throat.

Forcing his fingers into action, he worked at the button and zipper, well aware of her watching his movements.

“I want to sketch your hands,” she said, voice reverent.

Nico stilled immediately and looked at her, holding his zipper pull. That wasn’t a reaction he’d expected.

“Oh, God,” she covered her face, pencil still in her fingers so the point angled down at her wrist. “I didn’t mean to say that out loud.”

He couldn’t stop the cocky grin that spread over his face. This was more like what he’d imagined posing for her would be like. “You can sketch my hands anytime you want, hase,” he said, adding on the pet name before he thought better of it.

Her blush got brighter. She hated when he called her that. Bunny. It was a term of endearment that Nina assured her was well known and used by friends and lovers alike, but it brought up all sorts of wishing on her part that they were the latter.

“Where do you want my hands?” he asked because he knew it would make her more flustered.

She had to clear her throat and duck behind her easel. “Wherever,” she squeaked out, trying to calm her racing heart.

Laughing, he thought about photos of underwear models and tried to get his body into a position like that. He hooked his right thumb into his waistband, exposing more of his red boxer briefs. The other hand fell off to the side, relaxed.

Peeking around her easel, Lena lost her breath. She had never seen him so sexy. He radiated confidence and comfort with his body — something she never quite managed to feel about herself.

This was going to be impossible.

“Look at me.” She really didn’t want him to look at her. She felt like she might set fire to her sketch pad if he did, but it would make the most impactful portrait.

Nico’s eyes met hers, and her stomach jolted. The teasing, flirtatious energy radiating from him hit her in waves. The rumble of desire she'd been feeling in her low belly purred to a higher gear, and she had to consciously stop herself from clenching her thighs together. Flirty and intense, his eyes were focused on her with purpose. Wanting, she realized with a jolt. That’s what this expression was. The kind of wanting where you want the person you’re looking at to know you want them.

She’d imagined getting this look of open desire from him so many times that having it turned on her now nearly knocked the breath out of her.

Forcing her hands into action, she’d never been happier to find muscle memory taking over – drawing the basic shape of his body when her mind was still running around screaming about how outrageously, unfairly attractive he was.

Eventually, her creative mind took over, and she relaxed into the art, strokes lengthening and easing.

When it came time to detail, she started with his face, trying to capture his relaxed, intense stare. In any other circumstance, she was certain her panties would catch fire or dissolve right off her body if he gave her this look. In all the years she’d known him, she’d never seen this expression. He would never be so forward with her in real life.

Despite her heart beating so hard she felt it in her throat and her wrists, her pencil stayed steady.

The exercise wasn't lost on her. Even the first drawing felt different. This looked different from her usual work, too - more real in a way she couldn’t really describe. Almost as if he might just walk off the page and kiss the viewer.

Wanting to get this expression just right, she paused to take a photo so she could reference it later.

“Can we turn on some music?” he asked after a minute or two.

“Sure. What do you want?”

“Whatever, just something.”

Flipping on the TV, she pulled up his music subscription service and selected a slow playlist. Something he wouldn’t be tempted to bop his head to before going back to her easel to finish.

Pushing aside the longing to be on the receiving end of this wanting in a situation where he wasn’t acting, she continued on.

He stayed in this position the longest. He found it the most comfortable, and apparently, the way he was watching her, the concentration in her mouth, and the way it narrowed her eyes just slightly was fine for her. It was a relief to not have to school the wanting off of his face for once.

After getting to a place where she felt like she could pick back up in a day or two, she had him remove his pants and sit backward.

Almost immediately, he leaned back, one hand gripping the chair for balance while the other ran into his hair. She yelped at him to still.

He went rigid. The position forced him to engage his core, and the arm lifted to push back his hair started to cramp from halting mid-movement.

This sketch ended up being her favorite, though she knew people would like the one before better. This one was really a study of his body — how his muscles flexed and bulged. She even somehow managed to capture the feeling of movement in his bicep. She’d only been able to do that with trees before. Plus, the whole thing was such a Nico gesture, it felt more like him, too.

A page ripped from her sketch pad, and finally, letting his arm down and shaking it out, he watched her settle it, face down, onto the pile,

“Okay,” she came out from behind her easel, her hands clasped in front of her, “I’m gonna go… get some water if you want to undress and sit back like this?”

He nodded, feeling his cheeks heat to match hers. This was all fun, games and teasing until he had to be naked in front of her. And she wouldn’t even be touching him. She’d be standing three feet away, looking at him the way she looked at one of her paintings.

He’d daydreamed about being on the receiving end of that intense gaze so many times, but getting it in this situation felt like a poor consolation prize.

He was on his own here, with no one to share the vulnerability of being naked with.

“Do you need anything?” she asked from the kitchen as he was stripping off his boxers.

“Water?” he asked, setting them on top of his folded pants.

Walking back into the living room, two bottles in her hand, Lena stopped short.

She had seen many nude models and taught herself to get over the shock quickly. Training her mind to see the person as a sculpture, not a living being, she focused on the beauty of the human body and not the person living in it. And Nico’s body was beautiful. Smooth golden skin, dotted with freckles and moles, that stretched over living, moving muscles.

Except, he wasn’t a marble statue. He was a living, breathing, beautiful man, and she knew him. She knew how he acted and what he loved, and she knew how much she loved him. And how much it meant to her that he was willing to put himself in such an uncomfortable position for her. She loved him so much, her heart ached with it. How could she possibly translate that into a two dimensional piece of art?

She knew from experience how awkward it was to be a model, let alone a nude model, and that was with people she barely knew. For Nico to be naked in front of her, willing to let her sketch his strong legs and expressive eyes was something totally different. Now, besides seeing his body, which really was so beautiful, it nearly made her lose her breath. She could also see the anxiety in the set of his thigh and the curve of his spine.

Quite suddenly, gratitude and love for him swelled within her chest in a way she had never experienced. It felt hard to breathe.

A small noise escaped her throat.

Looking over his shoulder, Nico asked, “okay?”

She nodded. Her feet finally moved, and she handed him the water. “You’re so beautiful, Nico,” she said, that reverent tone back in her voice as her eyes wandered down his body.

He felt a blush creep down his neck. “I don’t…” he cleared his throat, “I mean, you’re…”

His brain wasn’t working right. She was watching him with this wonderment in her face, like she’d just found the answer to the universe. He wanted to tell her she was the beautiful one, not him, but he couldn’t seem to find the right words when she was looking at him like that.

“Thanks,” he finally managed to say. "What do you want me to do?”

Now that they were here, she had no idea. She just wanted to watch him for the rest of the night.

The embarrassment she’d expected never came.

She adjusted her easel, so she was looking at him, just off to the side. She could see three-quarters of his face, but his thick thigh hid his penis from her view. “Just try to get comfortable,” she said.

Her voice was so kind and gentle that it relaxed Nico a little, but mostly, he still felt coiled tight and out of sync. “I don’t know that I can,” he said truthfully.

“That’s fine. I know I’m asking you to be comfortable in a really awkward situation. If you feel like you can’t look at me, that’s fine.”

The truth was that he always wanted to look at her, but seeing her this way, looking at him with holiness in her face, made him ache for her in a way he’d never felt with anyone else. It felt nothing like any of the dreams or daydreams he’d had that involved him being naked in her presence before.

She started with his legs first, so he didn’t have to find a way to position his head right then. “Can you flex your right thigh?” she asked.

He did, and she giggled. He glanced over to find her in the same spot, shaking her head, “sorry, the other thigh? Your left. My right.”

Nico tried his best and heard a breath rush from her.

“Good grief, your legs are so sexy,” Lena said before she could stop herself.

His breath lodged in his chest. “My legs?” he repeated, his voice one step off from croaking. Had she really just said that?

“Yes,” she said, her tone serious, pencil still working. “Men’s legs are severely underrated.”

When he glanced at her, he found her concentrating again, but her mouth was set in a new expression, lips soft and parted slightly, like she was waiting to be kissed. At this point, it was nothing short of torture.

Pulling his eyes from her, he folded his arms around the chair back and set his chin on his hands. He watched the album cover bouncing around the TV screen. Mens legs were underrated. How many men did she think about like that?

“That’s really nice, Nico, if you can just stay like that.”

Cookie wandered in then and flopped onto the carpet previously covered by the coffee table. He watched Nico with slow blinking eyes, and he tried not to feel so observed.

After four more songs of listening to her pencil and eraser working, she said, “Okay.”

He sat up.

“Wait! I have to take a picture.”

He winced, feeling the muscles in his back knot up. “Those aren’t getting turned in, are they?”

“Nope, they’re just for me,” she winked.

His eyes widened, and she laughed.

“No, they’re for reference so I can finish the drawings. I’ll delete them later.”

Forcing a laugh, Nico couldn’t quite decide which was worse - her taking the pictures or telling him she'd delete them so casually.

“Okay, so for the last two sketches, I was thinking one with you standing, and one with you supine.”

“Supine?” he repeated. He’d never even heard that word before.

“Laying on your back.”

Well fuck. Of all the times he imagined himself on his back with her, this was just another one that would crush the daydreams he clung to on long, lonely nights. Pushing that thought away, he asked, “what’s first?”

“Whatever’s easiest for you.”

“Standing full frontal?” he asked.

“I don’t know,” she said truthfully. “None of my figure drawings have included genitals. I could cut you off at the pelvis or sketch from behind. Which would you prefer?”

He shrugged, feeling too spent to make a decision, especially one like this. Then, quite suddenly, he realized: If he was standing in front of her, he’d have to watch her looking at his dick the whole time. “Behind,” he blurted, too quick, too loud.

After following her instruction, he found himself standing, facing the large window, where the curtains were mercifully drawn. One of his feet was up on a rung of the coffee table, forcing him to keep balance with the other.

“I think you need to hold something,” she said, standing and walking out of the room.

Upon coming back, she handed him the chain he wore most of the time. He’d left it on his bathroom counter, unsure if she wanted him to wear it. The fact that she seemed to know where he’d left it without asking wasn’t lost on him. He wondered if she assumed that’s where he’d left it or if she’d somehow seen him put it there.

“You can fiddle with that,” she said.

It was cool and solid in his hands, and he allowed it to slip through his fingers, feeling the ridges and links of the metal, before his fingers slid over the cross. His breathing centered, and he felt some anxiety unknot between his shoulder blades.

After a quick outline, she filled in some details that wouldn’t come through in a photo and asked him to lie down. She knew he was losing steam. It was a lot to ask to pose for six different portraits. Not only did it require a certain amount of stillness on his part, but it was also a night full of being watched. She could fill in the details later.

“Let me get you a blanket to lay on,” she said.

He breathed a sigh of relief. At least he wouldn’t have to lay buck naked on the floor.

She fetched the cozy blanket she kept on her bed. It was soft and comforting and smelled like her, like the sweet, citrusy scent of her perfume. It was all at once comforting and disconcerting. He had so many memories with this scent. There was even a time his dick would twitch every time he smelled it. It was around too much, now, for that reaction, but it still called up a sharp longing in his gut.

Wrapping it around himself, he sat on the floor, then lay down.

She fetched him a pillow, and once he was comfortable, began directing. “Can you bend your knee closest to me?”

He was slow to move but did it anyway.

Sensing his fatigue, she told him, “I know, we’re nearly done.”

He sighed, relieved he didn’t have to ask.

“I was hoping this one would be sort of satisfied.” she said, settling herself onto the floor facing him, her easel collapsed to be shorter.

He arched one of his eyebrows.

“I don’t know,” she answered, “I mean like, content, I guess.”

“I don’t think I can do that right now,” he said, hearing a wearied annoyance come into his voice. He was too tired to school it back. He was feeling spent up. Too much vulnerability with too little reciprocation.

Lena bit her lip. “Can I do anything to make it better?”

A sigh shifted his chest into a new position, “I just feel really…” he wasn’t sure what the words he needed were.

She waited patiently for him to finish. He liked that she never rushed his thinking.

Finally, he threw the other half of the blanket over his lap and sat up to face her. “I feel like I’m all exposed.”

She nodded.

“And you’re not.”

She hmm’d and pulled her bottom lip into her mouth, thinking. It was such a Lena gesture that it made him smile.

“Do you want me to get undressed?” she asked, then immediately regretted it. It seemed like the reciprocal thing to offer, but upon hearing the words out loud, she realized exactly how much she didn’t want to do it. Then they both would be anxious and awkward, and she wouldn’t be able to concentrate on her art, and that would be a loose loose for everyone.

“No.” Yes, of course he did. But if that were to happen, he wanted to earn it. He didn’t want it to be because he couldn’t sit through modeling for some portraits. Plus, then he would be completely distracted by her.

She scooted a little closer to him, questioning in her eyes.

“I feel,” he hesitated, searching for the right thing to say. A long pause passed where she didn’t get fidgety or impatient, just waited for him to continue. The phrasing came in SwissGerman first, or course, and then he had to figure out how to best say it in English. “I feel like I’m doing this for nothing.”

“For nothing?” she repeated, a mildly panicked look crossing her face.

“I’m doing it for you, but for what? So you do well on your project?” He was happy to help, but it felt like too much. Too much given without any reciprocation. Perhaps his fatigue was talking.

Her mouth pursed, “I can see where you’re coming from, but it’s a little more than a grade at this point. With you, I've finally been able to sketch the body the way I've been trying to for so long. And the fact that you’re willing to do something so uncomfortable, so vulnerable for me makes me just…I don’t even know how to say it.” She wanted to tell him that it made her love him. She’d told him she loved him before. She’d told him that many times: “love you, see you later,” but this felt different, deeper and truer somehow, and she wasn’t sure she was willing to admit those feelings.

Instead, she asked, “do you want to see the sketches so far?” feeling they may be the best explanation she had.

He perked up. She rarely showed anyone her art until it had been worked on more. A rough sketch was something she held close to her chest, wanting to keep it private until she deemed it good enough to display. He nodded, and Lena stood to retrieve them.

Given a moment to think, he assessed his body, finding what was lacking with a quick scan. “I think I need to eat,” he said.

His metabolism was so high, spiked higher by so much physical exercise all the time that hunger often came on swiftly, affecting his mood more than he’d like to admit. His teammates teased him to the point that he always had a snack with him. How long had they been at this drawing thing? He hadn’t eaten enough to begin with, and now they were however many hours in, and he was hungry.

That would also explain it. She hadn’t been joking when she told him not to get hangry on her. Setting the sketches in front of him, she went to grab the sushi from the fridge.

The drawings were farther along than he expected. She worked faster than he knew.

It was a strange thing to see himself in her delicate, penciled outlines.

Flipping over to the second sketch, he blinked a few times. He was himself, but not. The man on this paper was confident, relaxed, and flirtatious in a way he always wanted to be, especially with Lena.

“Is this how you see me?” he asked when she came back into the room.

“That’s how you are, Nico.”

It was like looking in a weird, funhouse mirror. Was this how she saw him all the time?

The third sketch was all in the details: the peek of the tattoo on his bicep, the flex of his abs, and the swell in his boxers.

He flipped to the first nude sketch. She perfectly captured how he felt. Anxious, unsure, and alone. It even looked like he was bouncing his leg. Yet, the portrait didn’t seem to feel anxious. It somehow felt like acceptance. She wasn’t fighting against his feelings to make them prettier, never asking him to feel anything different. She took him as he was and translated him onto a page in a way he’d never seen or expected to see.

How could he possibly be these two things just an hour apart?

“It’s weird to see your own facets turned back on you, isn’t it? I felt that way when I had to sit for class portraits.” They had all taken turns modeling for their classmates so they could understand better the perspective of the model, and it had been strange to see sixteen different versions of herself at the end of the class - each of them skewed a little based on the artist.

In the last drawing, he looked more relaxed. He was so glad when she’d handed him his cross to hold. Not only was it something comforting and familiar, but she’d also given him something to do with his hands, which felt important.

This was the drawing that most made him look like a hockey player, he thought. He could clearly see how his butt and thighs were thicker than the rest of him. He’d long ago gotten used to the size of his legs, but it was still strange to see the disproportion of them in comparison with the rest of his body laid bare so thoroughly.

She dipped her head to capture his line of vision, “I meant what I said before, Nico,” she said, handing him the to-go container. “You really are beautiful.” She flipped back to him tense and unsure. “Even here. Maybe even most here.”

His eyes shot to hers.

“This,” she tapped the drawn version of him on the back, “represents a huge sacrifice you're making for me. Putting yourself in a very uncomfortable position to help me get better at my art. To help me really understand the human form for the first time. I look at this, and I see how much you care for me.”

When he’d finished with the rest of the sushi, feeling sated and comfortable, he looked at her. She’d placed her sketch pad on the floor and put the last drawing on top of it. Hunched over, she was filling in detail.

He always appreciated this about Lena, that if he needed some time to himself, she would find a way to keep herself busy. He didn’t feel like he had to entertain her all the time, like he did with a lot of the women in his life. It was a refreshing change of pace.

He watched her work for a while, fascinated with the way she braced her hand with just the knuckle of her pinky finger so she wouldn’t smudge the charcoal already on the page.

Clearing his throat, he set the empty container to the side.

Looking up, Lena could see how much better he felt. His shoulders were more relaxed, and his hands were loose in his lap.

“Do you want to keep going?” she asked, moving the drawing back to the pile.

He nodded.

“We can pick up again on Sunday if you’d rather.”

He wasn’t sure he could convince himself into doing this again. “No, I feel better,” which was a partial truth, “let's finish now.”

She scooted back to her easel. When she got settled and looked around it, she found he had changed positions. Still on his back, his other knee was slightly bent, the blanket draped around his far hip to cover himself. His hand was up, resting under his head, showing off the smooth underside of his bicep and the tattoo of his families zodiac signs.

“Is this okay?” he asked.

"Yeah. Could you adjust the blanket?” she asked. “So it’s not so folded?”

He nodded and pulled himself into a half crunch to see and adjust the fabric. His abs contracted, and Lena looked at the ceiling before she could be overwhelmed with attraction.

“Like this?” he asked.

When she looked again, it was better, but still looked too placed, not like it’d been hastily thrown over him.

Her lips pressed together, an he sighed, knowing what that meant. “Can you just adjust it?”

“You’re sure you’re okay with that?”

Pulling in a fortifying breath, he nodded.

As she crawled over to him, Nico felt his heartbeat quicken.

Her hands softly gathered the blanket, pulling out the folds. If he were wearing something underneath, she’d just toss it up and let it fall, but she couldn’t do that.

Her fingers brushed the inside of his thigh as she tucked more of it between his legs, and the muscle fluttered all the way up to his groin. Biting his cheek, he stifled the groan of frustration that crawled up his throat.

“Sorry,” she said, holding her hands up in surrender. “I’m sorry.”

He shook his head, eyes still closed. Maybe he hadn’t been as successful as he thought. If he looked at her now, he knew he wouldn’t be able to stop the semi he was sporting from popping into a full boner and he just couldn't take that embarrassment. “it’s okay. Just, no more.”

Nodding, she scooted back to her easel.

Keeping his eyes closed, Nico thought about swimming in the cold, glacial lake near home until his body relaxed.

“Nico,” Lena asked, her hand on his shoulder.

His eyes fluttered open.

Above him, her expression was soft and full of that same wonderment from before. “I’m done if you want to get dressed.”

He nodded, and she left the room.

Before going to join her in the kitchen, he pulled his boxers and trousers back on.

“Sorry I fell asleep,” he said, rubbing a hand over his face.

“Nothing to be sorry for. I’m glad you felt comfortable.”

He hugged her then, bringing her body closer to his. He'd been thinking about it for too long.

“Thank you for doing this for me,” she said, voice intimate, dim and quiet.

“You know I'd do anything for you,” he said.

Did she know that? She figured she did. “Still, I know it wasn’t easy, so thank you.”

Nico stilled when she tucked her face into his neck. She’d done this before when he’d comforted her after a breakup. Then, he’d wanted to show her he could be the better man for her, but he’d been unwilling to cross that line. He still was. Maybe Jack and Luca were right. Maybe he did just need to grow a pair and ask her out. But what if she didn’t want him and didn’t want to deal with the repercussions of that discussion and wanted to move out? He would feel horrible. She’d have to find a place that would let her keep Cookie or take him back to her parents.

“Are you okay?” she asked, running her hands over his back. His skin was warm and surprisingly soft. Along with the scent of his soap and the mild undertone of sweat, there was a faintly cedar-y smell clinging to his skin. She’d never been able to tell where it came from. It was too faint to be cologne.

His muscles trembled. “Yeah,” he said into her hair, trying to calm his racing heart.

Her phone trilled from her back pocket. Lena was the only person he knew who didn’t keep her phone on vibrate.

She pulled back so she could look at it.

Nico reluctantly let his hands fall to his sides. “Your mom?” he asked. It seemed she was the only one who ever really called Lena. At least when he was around.

“No, it’s Milo,” she said, silencing the ringer and setting the phone face down on the counter. “He’s probably drunk and wants to get laid.”

Nico’s heart began to race with worry, jealousy, and fear. “Does he do that a lot?” Thank god his voice didn’t squeak over the words.

“Once a month or so, I guess.”

He knew he shouldn’t ask this question. He knew it was none of his business, but he was tired and emotionally empty, and his filter was thinner than usual because of it. “Do you take him up on it?”

Her eyebrows raised, a sarcastic look taking over her pretty features, “are you serious, Nico? Of course not. He’s just drunk dialing through his contacts list.”

“I always hated that guy. He’s such a tool.”

Hearing that phrase come out of Nico’s mouth, in his strong accent, made her laugh out loud. “What?”

“That’s not the right word?” he asked. “Like he’s selfish and just does things to be cool?”

“It’s the right word,” she confirmed, this teasing smile on her lips that would liquify his bones if he let it. “I know you never liked him. I just didn’t realize you felt so…strongly about it.”

His nose scrunched as he blew out a frustrated breath. “He wasn’t good enough for you.”

“Well, he couldn’t measure up anyway.”

“Measure up to what?”

“To this guy I’ve liked for a really long time,” she said, not quite brave enough to spit out the truth.

“So why don’t you date him?” Nico asked instead of demanding to know who this man was.

“I can’t ever tell if he’s into me.”

“He’d be a fool to not be into you.”

“Would he?” she asked, looking into his face, wondering what he meant by that.

“Yeah. You’re kind and fun and smart,” he said.

Part of her swooned when he didn’t lead off with the fact that she was pretty. The other part of her was a little disappointed he didn’t seem to notice.

“Any man would be lucky to have you,” he added on quietly as his eyes dropped to his feet. He couldn’t possibly look at her while telling her another man would be lucky to have her. It would happen one day, he knew, but he kind of hoped he’d somehow be out of the picture when it did.

Lena studied him as he looked at his bare feet.

His curiosity got the better of him, “who is this guy anyway?”

Well, shit. She’d really talked herself into a corner this time. What was she supposed to say now?

“Do I know him?”

She nodded.

“Does he play?” he asked hesitantly.

She nodded again.

“I thought…” The knowledge sliced through him: if it wasn’t about hockey, it was about him. “I thought you didn’t like hockey players,” he said, fighting against the ache in his chest.

Her eyebrows knitted together in confusion. “What gave you that idea?”

“I overheard you talking to Jessica at the rink once about how you wouldn’t date me because I was a hockey player.”

“You’re sure I was talking about you?”

“You said ‘I don’t date hockey players,’ and then Jessica asked, ‘what about Nico?’”

Understanding sparked her memory. “Did you stick around to hear my answer?” She hadn’t even known he was listening in on that conversation. She’d been sitting on the refreshments counter while Jessica baked the soft pretzels. He must have been around the corner, heading into the locker room.

“You said ‘it doesn’t matter.’ I couldn’t listen anymore, so I walked away.”

A small smile lit up her face. “If you had stayed, you would have heard me say, ‘it doesn’t matter, Nico’s not like the other guys. He’s sweet and respectful.’”

“Oh,” he said because he didn’t know what else to say. “I thought you didn’t date hockey players,” he said again, lamely.

“I don’t. I mean, not the average ones,” she added on when his expression fell. “I told people that because they’d wonder why I was around the team all the time, but not shacking up with any of them. Those boys I grew up with were all such dogs, but you never made me feel less than for being a woman or like I needed to put out to be accepted.”

His nose wrinkled.

“See, that?” she asked, noting his disgust. “That’s why I like you, Nico. You’re sweet and kind and so respectful of women.”

“Why wouldn’t I be?”

“You see it in locker rooms all the time. I’m sure you see it in yours currently.”

The conversation paused as he thought.

“You’re different than other players,” she said. “Jessica was asking me that because she knew you’re a hockey player that I liked.”

“You liked me?” he asked, his mind running in circles trying to process all the information coming at him.

“Yeah, Nico,” she said. Well, she was already here, she may as well spill the whole pot. “I still do.”

Half of his mouth lifted just enough to dimple his cheek.

“Ugh, don’t flash your dimples at me! I can barely keep my hands to myself as it is,” she said, shoving his shoulder.

That was new. “What if I don’t want you to keep your hands to yourself?”

Her breath hitched in her throat. “Don’t tease Nico. It’s rude.”

“Who said anything about teasing?”

“I —” she was having a hard time articulating her words, “but you —”

He patiently waited for her to finish, attempting to school the grin off his face.

“But you don’t even like me like that,” she finished, lamely.

He couldn’t help it, laughter burst out of his chest, “what?”

“You’ve never made a move,” she said, feeling outrageously embarrassed. It was one thing to admit her feelings, but then to have them thrown back in her face was something she just couldn’t handle.

“You know what Jack tells me every time he sees us together?”

She was so taken off guard by the question that it jolted Lena out of her spiraling thoughts. “What?”

“He tells me to make it happen.”

Her eyebrows shot up.

“All the guys know I’m in love with you.”

Her breathing hitched, and she gripped the counter behind her to keep from falling over.

“In fact, everyone knows I’m in love with you. Nina says I look so lovesick no one can miss it.” He took a step in so they were nearly chest to chest. “But somehow, you don’t ever see it,” he added quietly.

He was so close, she was certain he could hear her heart hammering. Her mind was still caught on, ‘all the guys know I’m in love with you.’ It was like she couldn’t process the words. “You’re in love with me?” she asked.

A deep, frustrated sound, like a groan, filtered up his throat. The thought of pulling that sound out of him in any other circumstance made her knees feel weak. It sent heat racing between her thighs.

“I’ve been in love with you since I left Halifax,” he said, relief he didn’t have to keep anything under wraps flooding through him. “That’s why I broke up with Viv when I left. I couldn’t stop thinking about you, and it wasn’t fair to her or to me.”

Her wide eyes snapped to his, and Nico took a steadying breath. She really hadn’t known. All this time, he thought she must have, but held to her principles enough to turn away from it.

“I’ve been in love with you since you left Halifax, too, Nico.”

It was his turn for his breathing to hitch. “What?”

“I thought you didn’t like me like that.”

How was this possible? Nico felt like his knees were slowly turning to jelly. “How could you think that?” he croaked.

“You never made a move,” she repeated.

“You said you don’t date hockey players,” he defended.

Hands fluttering up to cover her face, Lena shook her head. “I can’t believe this,” she said, a small laugh escaping.

Reaching up, Nico gently encircled her wrists and pulled her hands away. She let them fall by her sides.

His heart was galloping in his chest. “Can I kiss you?” he asked, surprised to find his voice quieter than he meant it to be.

Lena nodded, a feeling as though she were about to jump out of a plane surging through her body. Something grand and beautiful waited for her if she could just put her faith in the parachute and step into the unknown. Well, partially unknown. She knew Nico, and she wasn’t afraid.

One of his hands drifted up to her face. Cupping her jaw, he stroked her cheek with his thumb. “You’re so beautiful, Lena,” he said, glad to find his voice had evened out.

For the first time, she recognized that look he was always giving her. That wide open, soft gaze. Love, she realized with a shock of understanding. It was love. It had been love this whole time. She really had been blind.

Her eyes darted away as her cheeks flushed pink. “Thank you.” She wouldn’t lie, hearing it eased some of the anxiety in her chest.

He waited for her eyes to come back to his before leaning down. Heart hammering with six years of anticipation, their lips finally met.

When her head tipped slightly to the side and her mouth opened to him, a shock raced down his spine while a sigh filtered up his throat. The kiss was better than any fantasy his mind had concocted through the years.

His tongue tentatively slipped into her mouth, and Lena felt a flash flood of right, this is right, this is the most right thing that’s ever been right in my life, sweep through her.

Her hands fluttered up to his shoulders, and she felt his, heavy on her waist, squeeze when her tongue slipped past his lips.

God, Nico was in paradise. This was the softest, most heavenly, love-filled kiss he’d ever experienced. How did people even find words for this? Sudden understanding sparked in the back of his mind. This was why people wrote sonnets and songs and books. He wanted to drown in this feeling.

Eager to see his face again, she eased back.

“This is okay?” he asked, eyes snapping to hers, worried she was having regrets.

Nodding, she leaned forward and slid her mouth over his.

This kiss was slower, more passionate. When her teeth grazed his bottom lip, Nico felt electricity zing through him.

His fingers ran into her hair to cradle the back of her head.

There was no stopping the moan that filtered up her throat when he sucked on her tongue gently.

Fuck, he loved that noise more than anything he’d ever heard. He wanted to hear it again, and again and again in every possible position and every possible circumstance.

All at once, the kiss was electric, the initial softness giving way to the chemistry and sexual tension that had been brewing between them for more than half a decade. Lena had never felt anything like it. It was exhilarating and somehow grounding in a way she’d never experienced, as if they were rooted together by their passion.

She wanted more of him. Her hands dove into his hair, noting the groan he let out when she pulled it lightly.

Nico lifted her onto the counter. He wanted her closer than their standing position allowed. She wrapped her legs around his waist. It was exactly what he’d been hoping for.

He broke away and trailed his mouth to her jaw, eager to taste her skin.

“Nico,” her voice was a breathy little moan.

He was a fool for not telling her sooner. God, he was such a fool.

Her hand found his jaw and pulled his mouth back to hers with a simple, “more,” that nearly drove him out of his mind with the need to obey.

Their teeth clicked, and she gigged.

He loved this, too - getting her in all the ways, even the awkward ones. A laugh fell into her mouth, and it brought him back to himself. He wanted to savor this. There was no need to rush. She wasn’t going anywhere.

Nico felt himself pout when she proved him wrong, and her lips broke from his. She stripped off her shirt, and before he could get his eyes on her, he felt her mouth connect to that soft spot under his jaw. How did she know?

“Lena,” he breathed. Her hands slid down his front, and the shock of her touch sent his skin to trembling. “Oh my God, Lena.”

She’d always loved the way he said her name, but this was something else. This was a song she would never get tired of, one she wanted to listen to again, and again, and again.

Her mouth explored his throat, sucking his pulse point. His dedication to go slow dissolved a little with every brush of her tongue, every graze of her nose ring across his skin.

His hands were suddenly everywhere. All over her back, cupping her butt to pull her to the edge of the counter so their hips could touch.

Feeling the rigid length of him pressing between her legs turned Lena feral. She’d done this to him. She was doing this to him. Tightening her legs around him, she wanted to do so much more to him.

Their hips ground together as his hands slipped to unhook her bra. “Okay?”

“Yeah.”

He fumbled with the clasps briefly before they gave way.

Taking the garment at the center gore, she pulled it away from her body. A brief moment of chaos ensued as their arms tangled in the effort to get it away from her. Finally, she flung it over his shoulder and giggled when the metal bits clinked against the tile floor.

Laughter split his face into the adorable, dimpled smile she loved so much before his gaze turned back to her. Even as the corners of his mouth remained turned up, his jaw slackened as his eyes blew wide.

Dreams and reality crashed into each other, and Nico felt his breath rush from his lungs. He’d never seen anything so beautiful in his life.

“Hase,” he said, because he couldn’t think of anything else to say. It was a bit of a cutesy pet name, but his brain was too busy trying to soak in every detail of her he’d been so starved for to think of a new one.

He murmured something under his breath in German, and Lena felt heat race to her core. She slid her hands into his hair in an attempt to pull him into a kiss, but he resisted, eyes still glued to her chest.

“You’re so fucking beautiful,” he breathed, voice husky.

“Thank you,” she said, feeling a blush overtake her cheeks.

He reached out, then paused, hands stopped in mid-air. “Can I?”

When his eyes flicked up to meet hers again, she lost her own breath. She was so used to seeing Nico’s expressive eyes wide with (what she knew now was) love, sparkling with mirth or drooped with disappointment. This…lust, different even from when he was posing with his pants undone, was new. Heat mixed with love and wonder. She’d never felt so desired.

She nodded, finding her voice wasn’t where she left it.

Nico was already throbbing against the zipper of his trousers, and cupping her breasts in his palms only made it worse. When she arched into his touch with a moan, it became damn near unbearable.

Unable to wait any longer, he crashed his lips to hers as their hips surged together again.

If he wasn’t careful, he was going to blow his load in his pants before he even got to feel her touch. Forcing himself to slow down, he concentrated on the weight of her breasts in his hands and the taste of her tongue in his mouth.

She was the one who took it further, one of her hands slipping down his stomach to cup him over his fabric prison.

Now would be a horrible time to faint, he told himself, even as he felt his eyes rolling back and his hips pushing forward into her hand. He groaned against her lips.

His mouth slid to her neck, and she shivered, feeling her nipples tighten more as his teeth scraped over her sensitive throat.

He was hard and so hot, even through the fabric of his trousers. It suddenly wasn’t enough. Removing her other hand from his hair, she fumbled with the belt buckle. Finally managing to get it open, she asked, “this is okay?”

“God, yes,” he moaned, hips restlessly moving against her hands.

As she was tearing the zipper down, one of his hands slid toward the fastening of her own jeans. “Okay?”

“Uh-hu.”

It was only after he flicked the button open and managed to pull the zipper that she realized she didn’t want to do this here. Not where, if she leaned back, her head would hit the cabinets, and not so close to where they prepared their food.

“Can we move to the couch?” she asked, breath in his ear.

Could they move to the couch? He would move them to the moon if she asked.

Lightning fast, his hands were suddenly cradling her bum, hauling her off the counter so he could cary her to the living room. A surprised yelp escaped her at the sudden show of strength.

He had to wrench his eyes open so he wouldn’t dump them on the floor as she licked his jaw up to the lobe of his ear, which she nibbled gently.

When they made it there, he tried to sit down still holding her, but only half managed it before he was falling the rest of the way. He didn’t mind her crashing on top of him. Feeling her chest pressed to his was a lifelong dream coming to fruition.

She was moving so restlessly on top of him, hips grinding, it made him whimper. Her hands snaked between them again, this time to shove his pants down.

They both pushed and tugged, and finally, he was free.

She broke away to look at him, and he had a sudden, terrible worry she would be disappointed. He wasn’t the biggest guy, but he wasn’t too small — at least no one had told him so.

“Oh, Nico,” Lena murmured, finally getting her hands on him. He was perfect. Thick and hard and searingly hot against her palm.

“Lena,” he moaned, head tipping back against the couch cushions. Finally feeling her touch was incredible. Now really would be a terrible time to faint.

She pulled her hand away briefly to spit into her palm, and he almost lost it, feeling like he could have come from the sight alone.

As soon as she began to stroke him, he was done for. There was no coming back from this — though he couldn’t think of a reason why they would need to.

His mouth dropped open, and his eyelids fluttered, attempting to keep looking into her face. The pleasure she was pulling out of him won out, and his eyes closed.

“Feels so good,” he groaned, his accent thickening as he spoke. He was going to lose his English next.

It happened, and he started babbling in German.

His voice was lower in his native tongue - it always had been. Lena felt her core flutter in anticipation.

He repeated the same word several times like it was a question, but she didn't know what it meant.

Nico opened his eyes and came back to himself enough to realize she didn't understand, and therefore couldn't do what he was begging her to.

“Kiss,” he managed in English, unable to pull out the correct grammar. “Please, kiss.”

Oh, that's what kush meant. In hindsight, it did sound a lot like kiss.

When she caught his lips, Nico couldn't hold back a moan as her tongue licked into his mouth. He had imagined this so many times, but those fantasies didn't prepare him for the actual feel of her hands on him, or the sweet, warm taste of her mouth, as if she'd just eaten one of those cinnamon sweets she liked so much.

Pleasure sparked and fizzed across his skin.

Jesus, this was better than anything he’d ever felt. Was this what six years of longing and anticipation did? Deciding it didn’t matter, he pushed the thought aside and let his whole mind be consumed by her soft hand, her incredible tongue, and the knowledge that this was actually happening. This was happening for real. He wasn’t going to jolt awake in a few minutes with a boner so hard it hurt.

“Lena,” he groaned into her mouth.

She pulled away just enough to whisper against his lips, “what do you need?”

Everything. He needed everything. “You,” he said instead.

“I’m here,” she said, pulling at his length with a little more fervor.

His hips pumped up into her hand, desperate for release.

“Lena, I’m…” he couldn’t even get the words out before he was exploding.

She moaned along with him, drinking in the pleasure that washed over his face - his fluttering lashes and panting mouth.

Closing his eyes, Nico tried to compose himself. The sight of his release splattered over her breasts might actually make him faint.

She kept going with slower, gentler strokes until he winced, then gently pulled her hand away.

“Fuck,” he groaned, voice deep and satisfied.

She giggled.

God, he couldn’t even move. Her mouth was back at his neck, and he breathed out a curse in German.

“Is that good or bad?” she asked into his skin.

“So good.” He needed to teach her so he wouldn’t have to explain. “Wanna make you feel good, too,” he said instead of launching into a lesson in German swearing.

Lifting her mouth from his neck, she looked down at him.

God, he was the most beautiful thing she’d ever seen. “You’re so handsome, Nico,” she whispered, tracing a thumb over one of his bushy eyebrows.

He flushed.

“I’ve thought about what you look like when you’re coming so many times,” she said, tracing over his cheekbone this time.

“You have?” he squeaked.

She nodded. “And it was so beautiful.”

“I have too,” he admitted, slowly sliding his hand up her thigh. “Can I see it?”

Biting her lip, she nodded.

Even as he was working his hand into her underwear, his other was coming up to her face and gently thumbing her bottom lip out from under her teeth.

“Show me how to make you come,” he said, eyes boring into hers.

Shit, she might just fall apart from that look alone.

Rising onto her knees, she shoved her pants and underwear down to give them easier access. His fingers slipped between her lips, and she moaned, pressing toward them.

“I don’t really get off from penetration,” she said, “I like it, but it won’t make me orgasm, so it’s all about the clit for me.”

Sliding his fingers back from her entrance, he searched for that little nub. “Here?” he asked when he thought he’d found it.

Reaching down, she moved him where she needed him, so the pads of his fingers were making direct contact. “Here,” she breathed, guiding him to circle over and around her pearl.

Her eyes fluttered closed, and he devoured the pleasure that flowed over her face.

“I like this, too,” she said, moving his fingers into a V so they traced on either side.

He started a pattern from her instructions — circling and stroking, then splitting as he pulled back.

“You can press harder,” she moaned softly.

He did, and her hips stuttered into his touch.

“Can you…” she trailed off, feeling suddenly shy. She’d never asked a man for this before. Then again, this was Nico. He’d taken every other instruction to heart and was touching her exactly the way she wanted. She knew he would at least try.

“Anything,” he rasped, “tell me.”

Hips seeking, she moaned and loved that he was so willing to please her. She could see it in the way he was watching her — this eager, desperate look in his eyes, full of wonder and desire and so much need.

“Can you suck my nipples?” she finally whispered.

Growling something affirmative, he leaned in and drew one of the tender buds between his lips.

Her voice keened, and her hand flew into his hair to cradle him to her chest, “use your tongue,” she instructed, then moaned, “yes, Nico,” when he laved over the sensitive peak.

He was so turned on by her. By her confidence in knowing what she wanted and that she trusted him enough to tell him. Not to mention the way his name was panting out of her mouth.

Her back arched, pushing her hips into his hand and her breast into his mouth.

If Nico had known pleasing a woman could come with instructions like this, it would have changed his whole life.

He moved to the other breast, almost suckling at the tender bud.

“Fuck, Nico,” she moaned, “feels so good.”

“Show me how to take you there.”

“Put your fingers inside me.”

He obeyed even though he didn’t know how he’d stroke her clit now. Just as he was getting ready to detach his other hand from her breast, she guided his wrist so the heel of his hand pressed into her.

“Nico,” she moaned as pleasure flooded her system. Her hips ground into his hand. He felt incredible. God, was this what she’d been missing every time a man asked what she wanted and then did what they wanted anyway?

Her next words fell apart just as she did, turning as nonsensical as her rhythm.

Even watching the pleasure roll over her face didn’t prepare him for the feeling of her coming. He'd never felt anything like it. Her muscles clenched in quick succession, fluttering around his fingers. Fuck. If she did this around his cock? He might die.

All at once, the pleasure surging through her snapped, and she collapsed against him.

Nico eased his fingers from her and eased them up to his mouth, eyes rolling back at the first taste of her. He couldn’t wait to get his mouth on her.

Before he could suggest they move to the bedroom, she was curling against him and tucking her face into his neck. Her breathing slowed. It was late - well past her usual bedtime, and Nico knew how a good orgasm could relax his body right to sleep if he was already tired.

“I love you,” she whispered into his neck.

A thrill zinged through him. “I love you, too,” he said, stroking a hand up her spine.

Upon waking, the first thing Lena noticed was that her breasts were bare, nipples puckered so tightly in the chilly morning air that they ached. Somehow, though, the rest of her wasn’t cold.

Trying to roll over, she ran into a solid body behind her.

The night before came crashing back. Nico posing for her before admitting he loved her. He loved her! Part of her still couldn’t believe it. She smiled, remembering the incredible way he looked falling apart beneath her before he teased the most incredible orgasm she’d ever had from her body. So incredible, she’d fallen asleep right in his lap. He must have moved them into this spooning position on the couch rather than moving her into her own bed.

Her phone trilled again. That’s what had woken her. Where was it? It sounded nearby.

Nico mumbled something and tightened his arms around her when she tried to get up.

When it rang for the third time, she realized it wasn’t ringing at all - it was her alarm. She needed to get up. As much as she wanted to just stay here and recreate the night before again and again and again, something Nico wouldn’t have minded if his hot length currently pressing into her back was any indication, she couldn’t. She had to show Professor Brown her sketches, and she had a painting to turn in in her post modernism class.

“Nico, I have to get up,” she said, lifting his arm from around her waist. Her chest was itchy from where his cum had dried on her skin.

“Nonig,” he mumbled, pulling her back into him.

“Yes.”

Finally managing to extract herself, she immediately fell off the couch.

“Are you okay?” he asked, voice still thick with sleep.

God, he was adorable waking up. Mussed hair and heavy lidded eyes.

Nico didn’t want this moment to end. It couldn’t. It was too good. He watched, amused, as she tripped over her pants before tearing them down her legs and kicking them them off before she stumbled into the kitchen.

She finally found her phone — she’d left it on the counter — and cursed when she saw the time. She didn’t even have time to shower.

He groaned a pleasant curse in his native tongue and rolled onto his back, stretching his arms over his head. Sleeping on the couch was definitely not going to help him in the game tonight.

He sat up abruptly. “What time?” he called.

“It’s 9:05. I have to go to class.” she said, debating if she should just pull her jeans on and go. No, if she couldn’t shower, she at least needed to change.

He cursed again, jumping to his feet. This was not how he wanted the morning after to go. He wanted to make her breakfast in bed and ravish her again before he had to leave. Now, he had to rush. Practice started in 30 minutes, and it would take him 20 to get to the rink.

He ran to his bedroom and stopped short. There was a suitcase next to his dresser. He’d forgotten he was heading out on a road trip.

Running his hands into his hair, he wondered how this could have happened. He would have to be at the arena before she got home from class, and then they would leave from there to catch their flight to Florida. He finally got her, and he had to leave. This was the worst morning after he could have imagined.

Attempting to run down the hall and pull on her chucks at the same time probably wasn’t the best plan, but Lena needed to see him before he left. She wouldn’t see him again for six whole days. Stumbling, she crashed through his doorway just in time to watch him pulling on a new pair of underwear. She finally got her other shoe on before she stood up, pushing her hair out of her face.

He turned to her, and she lost her breath. She’d seen him naked, and he still did this to her.

“I’m sorry, I have to go,” she said quietly.

He didn’t hesitate to stride to her, take her face in his hands, and kiss her deeply, like he’d wanted to for so many years. He was never giving up the opportunity again.

Gathering her against him, he broke the kiss in favor of burying his face in her hair. “I wish this morning was different.”

“I know, I do, too. But I’ll be here when you get back,” she assured, running her hands down his back. At the tail end of her stroke, she let her fingers curve in so her nails traced over his skin.

He pulled back to look into her eyes, cheeks dimpling.

A smile spread over her face, and she leaned up to brush her lips over his, “I’ll see you on Thursday.”

He nodded.

“Good luck,” she said, kissing him again, “I love you.”

Maybe this morning wasn’t so bad after all. “I love you, too.”

The smile she gave him made him want to move mountains.

“Thank you again,” she said, leaning in to kiss him one more time.

“For what?” he called after her as she ran down the hall.

“For everything,” she called back. “For all of it.”

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